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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years

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Deadbeat Pt. 7

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

I’m sorry for this chapter being shorter than normal, but it is more of a transitional chapter to set up some new stuff! I’m trying a new writing style in this chapter and this is why the word count is shorter. I’m nervous about posting this chapter honestly, since I tried something different. The following chapters will be back up to 3.5-4k as usual! This story is not over!

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful.

Address mentioned is completely made up.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six

Lee never stopped telling you how much he loved you. At first, you had thought it was a spur of the moment exclamation but you were mistaken. When you realized he meant it, you reciprocated telling him you loved him too, making him the happiest man in the world. It all happened so fast, and your relationship was evolving quickly.

Maybe living together played a factor in how quickly the relationship progressed. It’s hard to just be dating someone you already live with and can’t take out on proper dates. It made everything else happen faster. He wished he could spoil you and take you to restaurants and walk into a room with you on his arm, but he couldn’t yet.

But from that moment on, he never stopped telling you. He said the phrase probably every moment he could manage. Every time he called from his office; he wouldn’t hang up without muttering the phrase. He’d tell you that he loved you before he left the house, or he’d just announce it unprompted when you both were home together, like it was some epiphany or declaration. He’d love to whisper it to you, especially at night with you pulled tightly to his chest.

He made sure he’d tell you in nonverbal ways as well, always letting you know he was thinking about you. Somehow, you’d end up with flowers on your desk at work at least once a week as well, never with a card. He’d cook, and on his days off, he’d spend them with you or he would surprise you by fixing things on the house. Never in a million years had you ever expected Lee Bodecker to be such a romantic, and when you’d joke about it, he’d say,

“You give me a reason to be, doll.”

It was thrilling, having someone to love and to have those feelings reciprocated. The ability to just be able to give and receive love was something he was never able to manage, perhaps it was just never the right person, or perhaps he had always been too selfish.

Now for the first time in a very long time, he wasn’t thinking about himself.

You gave him purpose and something worth fighting for.

“When this whole thing is over and we’re out of this town, I’m gonna marry you,” he said rubbing your arm as you lay in bed cuddled up to his side. You lay your arm across his tummy and rest your head on his chest. You hum in agreement, resting your eyes, both of you waking up earlier than you needed and you were enjoying the peaceful moment of the morning together.

“I hate seeing you with that Russel kid,” he’ll mutter, possessively pulling you closer, you could feel the vulnerability in his voice.

The past weeks have been really hard on Lee. It bothered him more and more each day, knowing Arvin was the one who got to drive you home from work and just being out and about with you. He knew you were his, and he never didn’t trust you. But you were so blind to the boy’s obvious feelings for you. It was something that would eat at him at night.

He couldn’t even blame you, if Arvin was able to sweep you away from him. Arvin was a good kid- took care of his family, worked a decent job, went to Church, and he was your age. He was much better looking in the traditional sense than Lee as well. Plus, you had a history. The boy was your first love and no one forgets their first love.

He knew you didn’t look at Arvin the same way Arvin looked at you, but he was always worried that a shift could come. If that damned reporter wouldn’t leave town and the more time you spent with Arvin, the more you’d see how much you’d actually want to be with him instead. You always told Lee he was the one you wanted and he believed you, but he worried that you would change your mind. He was so insecure, and he felt guilt, and he knew that he didn’t deserve to be happy, that he didn’t deserve your affection.

Sometimes he couldn’t let himself relax. Scenarios of all the different reasons you could leave him for polluted his mind and he hated how it took him out of being in the moments he just wanted to enjoy. He’d see you in his mind, happy with Arvin, marrying him instead and creating all those experiences with Arvin instead of him.

“He’s just my friend,” you reiterate, probably now for the millionth time. You were patient, and it never seemed to bother you, that the two of you ending up having this same conversation over and over. He needed the constant reassurance, and he hated the fact that he did.

“I want you, Lee,” you’ll mumble affectionately, trying to shower him with compliments and praise, to lift him up when he got down like this. “I don’t want any other man,” you’d affirm.

“This town is poison,” Lee mutters, looking out the window, the blinds pulled back as the sun is steadily rising. “Everything feels like it’s tainted,” he observes.

“Except us,” you correct him. He nods, but he knows his statement especially applies to him.

“Except you,” he sighs, his fingertips tracing circles on your bare shoulder.

“You don’t think you’ve ruined me, Sheriff?” you tease, making him smile, gradually pulling him out of his state. You’d lean up and kiss him, and the sensation would help his thoughts fade away for a few minutes. The feeling of your lips and soft skin against his own just putting his mind at ease, using his other senses to just keep his mind at bay.

He’s not sure if you realize how much he means it when he talks about escaping away from the town and marrying you. He thought about it all the time and it was what he was working toward. He knew even if he managed to go straight, if when Curtis left town, if the case around your mom was resolved, the town would still eat you up. The image of you both would be sullied. Reputation was crucial for survival in a town like this. You’d already been subjected to it before your relationship started.

He knew the solution was simple. He needed to take you away from Ross County, move to a new town where no one knew you both. It would just be a Sheriff and his new bride looking for a place to settle down. No rumors, or peeping eyes, or reporters, or exes, no corruption- just the two of you. Get a house, maybe start a family if you wanted that too.

He hoped you did. He’d be content either way, but he wanted a big family. His growing up was much less than ideal and it was just him and his sister. He loved the idea of a bigger family. He loved the image of having a house that was loud in a different way than what he grew up in. He often worried if he’d be a good father, but he never once doubted how excellent of a mother you would be if you wanted.

The only thing he wanted in his future was you, and everything else would be a blissful bonus of things he also doesn’t deserve. But to him you deserved the world and he simultaneously wanted to give you everything but then at the same time he felt like he would hold you back. You were young and had so many good years ahead of you. He couldn’t imagine you’d want to waste the rest of your life or even the rest of your twenties with him.

You could get a job doing anything you wanted and he could run for Sheriff in the new town maybe, or he could do something else. It didn’t matter to him anymore really. The time he’s been with you has really helped him see what is actually important. It was the only thing he wanted. He wanted to be able to give you that because he knew that you deserved it and more than he’d ever be able to give you.

Laying in bed with you on this lazy morning, reminded him of the last time he was there when you were still bartending. It was the first time that pesky day dream of his started. It was something a lot bigger now than it was then. He loved you, and he was relieved he could say it to you now, and he wanted to settle down. This backwards way the two of you got together was a mess but it was yours. He wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he knew he needed to make things right.

He had been so blind, for so long, and he finally started to feel like he could be someone he actually wanted to be.

All he needed was time and he could set it all straight.

***

Arrest of Pimp in Knockemstiff, Ohio Reveals Corruption of Town Sheriff

By: Henry Curtis

Sheriff of Ross County, Lee Bodecker, has been allegedly involved in the coverup of a local brothel, run by Leroy Brown. Brown and several of his associates were arrested on Wednesday night by local police for drug possession and possession of illegal firearms. As the group resisted arrest, there was a shoot out at a small bar in Meade, which was revealed to serve as a front for their operation. Seven men, including Brown, were arrested Wednesday night for questioning by the local police.

While giving his statement, Brown confessed to the charges and in hopes of a lesser sentence, cooperated with police and provided names of all involved in the underground prostitution ring. He provided the police with twelve names, including that of the local Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his sister Sandy Henderson, who has since also been apprehended by the local authorities.

Sandy Henderson was apprehended on Thursday morning, and made bail for $500 that Saturday. Henderson and her husband, both denied an opportunity to provide a statement. The pair only stated they will be promptly returning home and want to put this behind them.

Although there has been no release of his official statement as of yet regarding this alleged involvement, Bodecker was taken into custody the next morning, apprehended by his deputies from his home. Deputy Bill Thomas has since announced that the Sheriff will be subject to a trial in the near future, and for now faces an indefinite suspension from his post until his innocence has been proven. Deputy Thomas has also said that regardless of the outcome of the trial, Bodecker will be unable to run for reelection next term.

With this new development, it is also worth noting that the Sheriff is a tenant of (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the daughter of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker who is currently wanted by law enforcement for embezzling thousands from her husband Harvey Tucker’s company, Tucker Brokerage, and then fleeing with her sixteen-year-old son. When police arrived at her home Thursday morning to apprehend the Sheriff, deputies on scene took an official statement from (Y/L/N), where she denied knowledge of the Sheriff’s involvement in any of the alleged criminal activities nor any knowledge regarding her mother or brother’s whereabouts.

Woman Wanted for Embezzling Funds from Tucker Brokerage Arrested in Indiana

By: Henry Curtis

Former resident of Knockemstiff, Ohio, Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker was arrested in South Bend, Indiana yesterday morning before dawn. Being able to identify her as a wanted person, Este and Harold Turner, owners of the Sunnyside Motel where (Y/L/N)-Tucker had been staying for about three days prior to the arrest, notified the local authorities she was staying in one of their rooms. She also was accompanied by her sixteen-year-old son.

The boy’s older sister has now become the boy’s sole guardian and he has since returned to his hometown. According to the police, the boy was completely cooperative and they believe he had no knowledge of his mother’s crimes. In a statement given the night of the arrest, the boy told police he believed they were running from his step-father, as his mother insinuated, she had been a victim of domestic abuse. There is no evidence yet as to whether her statement is true, but there will be an investigation of husband, Harvey Tucker, to discover if this claim is true.

Both children of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker have not agreed to speak about their mother or the situation to anyone except police. Daughter, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), said when she arrived in Indiana to pick up her brother, seemed to only care about getting her brother home safely. Locals report she never asked to see her mother, and only focused on her brother.

As of now, (Y/L/N)-Tucker will remain in the custody of the South Bend Police until they are ready to transport her to Columbus, Ohio where she will face jail time and then eventually a trial.

Corruption in Knockemstiff High School Staff, Principal Arrested for Illegal Distilling- Sheriff Involved in Cover Up

By: Henry Curtis

Principal of local high school, Mark Cunningham, was arrested today after local police discover an illegal distillery on his residence. Police had retrieved a warrant to search Cunningham’s land after receiving an anonymous tip from a source close to the Principal.

Following his arrest, Cunningham admitted to the felony, but also claimed Ross County’s previous Sherriff, Lee Bodecker, had prior knowledge of the still, and in exchange for his silence, he demanded Cunningham offer a secretarial job at the high school to his landlord, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), who is the daughter of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker, who recently was tried for embezzlement.

The vice-principal of the high school, Meredith Lively, has stepped forth as interim principal until the position can be filled, and ensured the press (Y/L/N) had been fired effective immediately, despite her claims of being unaware any such deal had conspired. Police have found no evidence to contradict (Y/L/N)’s statement, and in an official statement taken from Bodecker, he confirmed that it was part of the deal she not be made aware of the circumstances.

New Sheriff Elected to Ross County

By: Henry Curtis

Former Deputy Bill Thomas has been elected Sheriff of Ross County. Following the trial of former Sheriff Lee Bodecker, who had been found guilty of all charges, Bodecker was barred from office, and given a five-year sentence.

Deputy Thomas in an acceptance speech during a recent town hall meeting, ensured residents of Knockemstiff that “one bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch” and the Sheriff’s department under new control will keep the town safe, and clean of crime and corruption. When asked by reporters how he felt about Bodecker, Thomas only described his situation as “unfortunate.”

There has been no other evidence of corruption within Ross County Sheriff’s Department although the investigation is still ongoing. When asked during his trial if he received any corroboration from any other law officials, Bodecker stated he never involved other members of the force with his wrongdoings.

REAL ESTATE

Room Available for Rent in Knockemstiff, Ohio

$50 monthly rent (utilities included)

1 Bedroom (250 sq. ft.), furnished

Private bathroom with shower

4 Birch Street

Knockemstiff, Ohio

Please call the following number with serious offers. Price negotiable.

PART EIGHT

Taglist

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky @lilacmeadows @mollygetssherlockcoffee

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superhero--imagines · 4 years

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Part 12

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here!

* You stare at the blank ceiling, the smooth unblemished surface like freshly fallen snow

* you should really put some nudie posters up there or something to lighten the mood a little.

* Light notes from the piano float around your room

* You sigh, so these are the facts as you know them:

* Edward is your best friend who has occasional bouts of brooding and flirtatious behavior.

* Bella is not albino, she has a lovely peach undertone, and a lovely grilled peach scent

* The entire coven has treated your attraction to this young lady’s blood like you got caught masturbating or wetting the bed or something

* “You don’t need to be embarrassed it’s a perfectly natural feeling.” Esme tells you while rubbing your shoulders

* “We’ve all been there” Rosalie reassures

* “Totally not a big deal, it happens to me everyday!” Jasper chimes in

* You wish sunlight hurt you so you could combust into flames on the spot

* The piano notes get louder, and you feel your mouth pinch into a frown.

* “Oh my god Edward! Read the room, I want brooding music!”

* Edward stops, up until then he had been playing a pretty cheerful Mozart piece

* You can tell he wants to ask why, you’ve been radiating joy non-stop since biology. But he decides against it

* “You really shouldn’t eat lying down.” He says as you sip blood while lying flat on your bed.

* “Okay dad.” You snort

* Edward starts to imagine what it would be like if you called him ‘daddy’

* All needy on top of him, your hands curled in fists against his chest, the breathy “daddy please” that leaves your mouth

* All of a sudden he’s ugly turned on

* “Ugh you’re no fun, I’m going to hang out with Rosalie”

* You leave the room and Edward has a total meltdown, is this what a kink is? Is he discovering a kink?!? At 100 years of age?!?!?!?

* Edward.exe is broken

* You don’t even make it to Rosalie’s room, you can smell them a mile away

* Broccoli, sugar and fat, and axe body spray. No peaches you realize with a sigh.

* They’ve only just barely rung the door bell when you open the door

* “Hey what are you guys doing here?”

* Jessica’s standing in front, looking pretty at ease, while Mike and Angela look equally uncomfortable.

* Makes sense, Jessica’s here all the time now either for homework or to watch TV.

* Mike and Angela haven’t been back since your sweet sixteen

* “How did you get down here so fast?”

* “I saw your car from upstairs” you say with a sheepish smile.

* You wish Alice would have given you a heads up, you weren’t planning on pretending to be human right now. Still you probably look raggedy enough right now in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt

* You can probably pull this sick thing off

* “We just wanted to check up on you, I heard from Mike and Angela you got sick during class.” And then in a more annoyed tone Jessica adds “And I guess you’re too sick to respond to all my texts and calls”

* Oh crap, where is your phone.

* You pat your pockets, and think when you saw it last

* “I left it in my locker” you smack your head. You told Edward to go grab your bag from class but you forgot your phone.

* “Hey don’t worry about it, I can get it for you tomorrow if you want.” Jessica rushes to your side and pats your arm. You shake your head

* “No I can get it myself, I’m fine I just ate something bad.” You mumble.

* You’re not missing school tomorrow. You would literally risk murder to smell Bella again.

* It’s not insatiable thirst like described in the books, more like a craving, like someone might have for nachos.

* It itches at you for a while, but if you just distract yourself long enough you can move on

* “Would you like to come in? I think Esme just baked cookies or scones or something.”

* Esme likes to bake for the smell and donate the food to the local shelter. That, or take it for her employees at her architectural firm in town.

* Firm is a loose word, she has maybe four employees, and they get one job a month, but it seems to make her happy.

* Angela and Mike give each other looks but Jessica perks up

* “Is she making those delicious earl grey scones again?” You sniff the air

* “I think she made some of that orange zest butter too”

* “Omg I am so happy you left your phone at school” Jessica giggles walking inside past you, you hear her greet Esme with a squeal

* “They really are good.” You tell them and your remaining human friends enter the house carefully

* “Soooo where is everyone?” Mike asks taking a look around your living room.

* “Ummm Rosalie’s in the garage, Alice is probably meditating on the roof, Emmett’s at swim practice, and Jasper’s probably at the barn.”

* “What about Edward?” Angela asks before Mike can ask about the barn

* Last you saw him he was playing the piano in your room, but it’s been a while since then

* “He’s probably in his room monologuing about the degradation of the American dream or something.”

* You lead them into the kitchen where Esme and Jessica are already deep in conversation about the wonder of her baking

* “-side is so light and fluffy, how do you get the tea flavor though”

* “Witchcraft.” Esme jokes, giving a full smile before putting another tray in the oven. Only Jessica laughs, the other two are too nervous to even sit down

* “Why don’t I teach you how when you come over next week.”

* Yeah you’re pretty sure Jessica is really only a fan of the “eating” and not of the “baking”

* You’re half surprised when she seems happy at the invitation.

* “Oh that sounds great, I can’t wait for it!” Jessica’s practically beaming

* Where’s Edward when you need him? You wonder what her motivations are.

* Jasper is not going to like this. He’s already irritated enough that he’s kicked out of his own house every Friday when Jessica comes over to watch arrested development

* Before you can say anything to Esme the conversation moves forward

* “Did you guys hear about that security guard that died in Mason county?”

* She’s just making small talk, you know that. But you and Esme instantly tense at the mention

* Carlisle had mentioned he thought there was a nomad wandering through, they were still far enough not to cause the coven immediate trouble, but anything that brought more attention to them was a disadvantage

* “My Dad says he heard from Chief Swan it was probably a wild animal attack” Mike mumbles over a bite of scone, you figured he would be the easiest to win over with food

* You hide a smile behind your hand, he really is like a golden retriever

* “What kind of a wild animal climbs stairs into a building” Jessica mumbles over another bite of scone. And maybe to fit in, or maybe because she’s always been a nervous eater, Angela takes a bite too.

* “Oh wow, these are really good” she murmurs

* Esme Cullen ladies and gentleman, winning the hearts of teenagers with baked goods since 19XX

* “Well you kids stay safe, stay together if you can.” She pats your head and you nod.

* You don’t know the details of the attack, you get the feeling Carlisle still see’s you as a kid and he doesn’t want to burden you.

* But assuming the small changes that have happened have nothing to do with the large changes, that means Laurent, James and Victoria will be passing through soon.

* Maybe it’s for the best Bella doesn’t get involved with Edward until later.

* You’d really like to not get all mixed up in the whole “James Thing” if you can help it.

* “Are you staying for dinner? I’m thinking of whipping up some pasta, maybe a chicken?” Esme looks to you, yeah you have no idea how she’s going to manage that. Besides the baking basics there’s no actually food in this kitchen. And the one upstairs is just for your blood bags.

* “(Y/N), do you think...Carlisle would mind if we used one of... his chickens?”

* His chickens? The only chickens in the house-

* “No Esme! My chickens are only for love and chicken snuggles” and their blood which tastes very leans yet rich. “Not to eat!”

* “It would just be one-we’ll eat your least favorite!”

* You’re really hoping this is her way of chasing the humans out because she doesn’t want to cook.

* “No- oh my god- we’re going to the diner come on!” You say tugging Jessica and Angela to stand.

* “It was great seeing you again Mrs. Cullen, see you next week!” Jessica shouts as the three of them follow you out.

* “Going out? Is that such a good idea it’s late and a school night.” Edward says as he descends down the stairs

* “Oh my god, yes Dad I’ll be home before my curfew.” You say before leaving, cue Edward crumbling onto the stairs as he imagines you calling him “daddy” again

* “I’m going to hell, I’m definitely going to hell.” He mumbles, his face in his hand.

* It’s a really short drive to the diner, also known as the only place to eat in Forks in the mid 2000’s.

*There’s not even a McDonald’s. It’s almost sad

* And when you get there, while everyone moves ahead to the table you see a familiar face.

* “Oh, Hey Bella”

* Your eyes met and you figured it would be rude not to say anything. It looks like she’s here having dinner with her Dad.

*She really does look like her dad, same eyes, same cheekbones.

* “Nice to see you again Chief Swan”

* “Nice to see you too, how’s Carlisle doing? Heard it’s been busy at the hospital.”

* “Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t sleep anymore.” You grin at your own joke.

* “Are you feeling alright now?” Bella asks, she looks genuinely concerned

* “Yeah, I um, made some questionable food choices at lunch.”

* There’s an awkward moment of silence. You get the impression that Chief Swan and his daughter are both the “strong silent” types.

* It looks like they’ve both finished eating already

* If you had known she was going to be here you would have made Edward come with you.

* “Oh hey, do you want to join us for dinner?” It just seems like the friendly thing to do for the new girl, something on-brand with human character

* Definitely not because if you get on her good side now, maybe she won’t kick you out once her and Edward get married.

*Father and daughter exchange a glance and the familiar connection they have makes you nervous.

*“Of course you don’t have to, I know you’re here with your dad so-“

* “I’m sure Bella would love to join-“ Charlie says at the same time Bella says:

* “Wouldn’t it be kind of weird since I already ate.”

* Ah, so they’re not as in sync as you thought.

* You give your best “Golden Girl - You can totally trust me with your daughter” smile.

* “I’m actually not eating either,” you place a hand over your stomach like a human might. “The uh, Clam Linguine is still haunting me, so I’m sticking to broth and sprite.”

* Why did you say Clam? You don’t even eat meat, it’s how you’ve been getting away with eating so little at lunch.

* “not a lot of vegetarian choices” You say to your human friends who nod solemnly.

* Father and Daughter exchange another look likening telepathic communication and they both move to stand

* “I’m going to finish up some paperwork at the precinct, don’t stay out to late.” Charlie says, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead

* You watch with warm eyes and a small smile twitching onto your lips

* Bella is so loved.

* You can’t believe she’s willing to break her dad’s heart just so she can be 19 forever.

* Which, as you are 19 forever, you can fairly say is overrated

* “Hey guys Bella’s joining us.”

* Your female friends offer her a polite smile, you see Angela gaze flick from the menu to Bella’s face. Silently calculating the worth of this opportunity

* Any intel on this new girl would be pretty valuable

* Same old Angela

* Mike sits up straight so fast that he actually knocks his silverware off the table.

* “H-hey Bella, Hi, w-what, what are you doing here?”

* “Eating.” Bella says it so bluntly that you can’t help but laugh.

* Mike flushes bright red and Jessica and Angela exchange a look before giggling.

* “I thought it would be cool if she came over since I didn’t get to talk to her much.” You take a seat next to Jessica and Bella follows by taking the last seat between you and Mike.

* You still catch whiffs of her scent her and there, especially when she’s sitting so close to you.

* But it’s not so bad, the peachy smell is making you a little lightheaded, but you can handle it.

* At least you’re not fantascizing about killing her and everyone in this room like a certain dork you know.

* “Do you guys want to do that promotion where we get the basket of fries for the table?” Jessica asks

* “I don’t like sharing fries with Mike he eats them all.” Angela mumbles

* Yeah you remember last time when after a football game the three of them actually sat down and divided the plate in three equal portions

* They even measured out each fry dividing up the extra long ones

* “Says the person who basically eats ketchup with a spoon.” Mike retorts and Angela scoffs

* “It’s America’s best condiment for a reason Mike.” Angela snaps back

* “I think we’re getting off track, I say Mike buys us all french fries to make up for all the times he hogged the joint basket” Jessica’s teasing but Mike takes it seriously

* “What so I’m a French fry monster now?”

* “Yes” Both Angela and Jessica respond in unison without looking up from their menu cards

* “What do you think Bella?” You’re surprised that Jessica’s the one asking. You get the feeling she’s not very happy about Mike’s crush on Bella.

* “I think Mike should buy everyone their own basket since he has such a bad history with sharing.”

* “You traitor!” Mike mocks hurt and you all laugh.

* You look at Bella through the corner of your eye, maybe it’s just the lighting but she looks pinker when she’s laughing.

* She looks happy as she starts contributing to the conversation.

* “I will say the pie here is really good, I wouldn’t share even if someone paid me to.”

* “Omg yes, the cheery icebox pie is out of this world” Jessica responds

* “I’m partial to chess pie” Mike pipes in and Angela laughs

* “You guys are crazy, the fruit custard they make is the best”

* You grin as your four new friends argue about the superior dessert, watching Bella laugh beside you.

* Welcome to team human Bella

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #twilight reader insert #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward and bella #bella swan x reader #Bella x reader #bella swan #Jessica Stanley x reader #mike newton #angela weber #midnight sun #superhero--imagines

612 notes · View notes

admiral-alby · 3 years

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bob fic recs galore

here’s the fruits of my labour. a working fic rec master-post containing multiple bob ships and many, many amazing fics. the writers in this fandom are absolutely incredible and their talent astounds me every time I read a new fic. all the kudos to y’all. keep on keeping on!

this is a long post. recs and some general notes are under the cut :)

(04/13/21) I’ll do my best to keep this list updated... or I’ll make a part 2 depending on length. if anyone has any recs that are not already listed in this post, please please message me! this is no way an exhaustive list and I’m sure I missed some fantastic fics out there - to get started I mostly just plucked from my bookmarks. I’d be happy to add on new fics for ANY pairing, rare-pairs included. I don’t really have much for rare-pairs in this rec because I haven’t read much yet but that will change soon when I have some more time on my hands to get into them :)

if you are an author on this list and you would like your work removed from it, please just message me. no explanation necessary I will take it off asap.

I’ll make the disclaimer that while I tried to include some general information about each fic, I did not include tags/warnings. so if you choose a fic, read the tags and proceed at your own discretion.

@capsparkyspeirs you’re a lovely human being and this is probably not what you were imagining when I said I’d be happy to rec some fics for you. I admit it got a little out of hand but there’s so many great fics out there I couldn’t stand to choose just a couple to send your way... so you get them all! you inspired me to do this, so this is for you and anyone else who wants to read some great fics but doesn’t know where to start <3

WINNIX (RICHARD WINTERS/LEWIS NIXON)

Long Ago and Far Away (Canon Winnix) by churchkey (Series) Rated T-E / Canon Era / 18013 Words (Total) / 4 Parts / Not Complete

Summary: “A few scenes exploring how Dick and Lew became the timeless cosmic lovers they were born to be.“

*Each part can be read as a stand-alone!

It Happened One Night by raquelelpillo Rated M / Groundhog Day AU / 7704 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Nixon gets the chance to do the day before the big jump over and over and over (or, Every Fandom Needs Groundhog's Day Fic).”

Finding Our Way in the Dark by rilla Rated E / Canon Era / Soulmate AU / 8477 Words / Complete

Summary: “After Dick and Lew share their first kiss in Austria, they open their eyes to find a golden thread binding their wrists together.“

Mutual by miss_grey Rated G / Canon Era / 2105 Words / Complete

Summary: “Dick couldn’t help wondering to himself when exactly Nix had decided that Dick’s personal space had become their mutual space.“

Let Me Be Close by armyofbees Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 8679 Words / Complete

Summary: “Five things Nix loves about Dick, and one thing Dick loves about Nix.Or,The thing about Nix, Dick is beginning to learn, is that he doesn’t love in halves. Nix loves with everything in him, and sometimes that means moving to the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania for Dick. Sometimes it means making spaghetti with him because Dick came to New Jersey and planted tomatoes, of all things. Sometimes it means telling without saying.”

Let’s Start the New Year Right by slightlytookish Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 10523 Words / Complete

Summary: “Nix had always been able to pick Dick out of a crowd, even when he was lying on his belly in the dirt two hundred yards away, squinting through binoculars at an entire company of men wearing identical uniforms. It was easier to spot him in the crush of people inside Penn Station, even out of the familiar uniform: the same tall figure, the same bright hair, the same way he always seemed to find Nix just as easily and turn towards him, like an arrow on a compass.”

Lancaster County by raquelelpillo Rated T / AU / 31500 Words / 17 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Nix is born later. Dick is there. (AU). Set in the summer of 1942 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

**It is part of a series with the other works being small ‘extras’ set through the story. This is the main work. It ends a bit ambiguously.

SPEIRTON (RONALD SPEIRS/CARWOOD LIPTON)

The Desolate House by Howling_Harpy Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 26672 Words / Complete

Summary: “It's been fifteen years since Carwood has last seen or spoken to Speirs when they reunite suddenly at an Easy Company reunion and have both recently relocated back to the US. Carwood has promised to his mother to finish packing and cleaning the family's boarding house that's about to be put up for sale, and on a whim invites Speirs to help him. He didn't expect him to actually show up.”

and you on my mind by seabright Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 11081 Words / Complete

Summary: “’You say that you don’t want any of Easy to know that you’re in Boston but you give me your address.’ Following a relationship through the end of the war and beyond.”

Of Soldiers and Secrets by nanuk_dain Rated E / Canon Era / 62988 Words / 26 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “A series of moments in the life of the Easy men, from Foy until after the war, focussing on the development of the relationship of Carwood Lipton and Ronald Speirs.”

Erasure by Howling_Harpy Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 15255 Words / Complete

Summary: “Carwood takes time off from work to visit his mother to get away from his lonely life in Boston. Ron is deployed to Korea and has been for a long while, and after spending a year alone and even longer lying to everyone, Carwood is not sure he wants to live like this anymore.”

Fluences by masongirl (Series) Rated T-M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 12818 Words (Total) / 5 Works / Complete

Summary: “ Soulmate AU in which soulmates can sense each other's emotions if they are close enough.”

**Mainly Speirton centric. Part 2 is Winnix & Part 3 is Shifty/Tab.

A Thousand Kisses by Arwen88 Rated T / Canon Era / 1993 Words / Complete

Summary: “ A late night in Hardigny brings Carwood to the room where Ron is dealing with paperwork, but even with a comfortable bed, he can’t find his peace. Late night chats have Ron showing a side of himself that Carwood had not expected.”

stop the world by languageofthebirds Rated T / Canon Era / 3001 Words / Complete

Summary: “The way his hair fell in mussed waves over his forehead made Carwood want to reach out and run his fingers through it. He was sin personified, in that moment.”

**Did I throw in a shameless self promo? Sure did.

WEBGOTT (JOSEPH LIEBGOTT/DAVID WEBSTER)

rivers always reach the sea by bitchbutter (Series) Rated E / Canon Era / 40790 Words (Total) / 2 Works / Not Complete / Last Updated March 17, 2021

Part 1 Summary: “Joe breaks things off with Web in Austria. Of course, nothing with them is ever that simple.“

Part 2 Summary: “The end of the war could be the end of a lot of things. If Joe could let it be.“

if i know you at all, i know you’ve gone too far by starblessed Rated T / Canon Era / 2654 Words / Complete

Summary: “How many stars d’you think there are, Web?” Joe asks after a moment.David has no damned clue. “A lot,” he answers confidently. “Millions.”“Millions,” echoes Joe. The glittering stars are reflected in his eyes, like black pits sending each beam of light back outward. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way they flicker. If he stares too long, David knows he will get lost in them... and that doesn't seem like the worst way to go.”

Teller of Tales; Song of Songs by thedastardly Rated E / Canon Era (Post War) / 8352 Words / Complete

Summary: “He hopes that he dreams about the mountaintop tonight. He isn’t in the mood to dream of the water, the shore, the everything after, again.”

the only noise beating out is ours by lakehymn Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 3470 Words / Complete

Summary: “Over the next couple weeks, Webster realizes that Liebgott has effortlessly invaded every corner of his life. Even on the days when he barely sees Liebgott at all, he can always find comic books or packs of cigarettes lying around somewhere. It’s almost disconcerting how ordinary it’s beginning to feel to stumble upon someone else’s belongings in his own house.”

push and pull by LT_Aldo_Raine

Rated T / Modern AU / 4115 Words / Complete

Summary: ““got hands like an ocean, push you out, pull you back in” And David Webster never could resist the ocean. OR: Webster snorted, a sardonic sound that echoed across the hotel room. “You don’t know the first thing about what I need.””

hang in there, baby by rilla Rated M / Modern AU / 3116 Words / Complete

Summary: “Written for the Kisstober prompt 'upside down Spiderman kisses'. '“I don’t know what I was expecting when I asked you what your top fantasy is,” Web says, “but it wasn’t this."'”

In His Wildest Dreams by Impala_Chick Rated E / Canon Era / Dream Sharing AU / 3891 Words / Complete

Summary: “While David is in the hospital, he starts sharing dreams with Liebgott.“

Black Ink on Some Blue Lines by thelastfig Rated E / Canon Era & Post War / 10185 Words / Complete

Summary: “It’s been sixteen years since the letter was written, but it never found its way to the one it was intended for. The thing about secrets is they eat away at you, not all at once but slowly over the years, and you begin to wonder, to play out the what if scenarios in your mind. Instead, David buried it away and pretended like it never existed. He should have killed it, he thinks to himself, not buried it while it still had breath in its lungs. In which David remembers his evolving relationship with Joe over the course of the war and decides to deliver a letter.”

LUZTOYE (GEORGE LUZ/JOSEPH TOYE)

The best laid plans by masongirl (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 52652 Words (Total) / 15 Parts / Complete

Summary: “Modern AU in which Joe and George find each other as college students and build a life together.“

each and every day (of the year) by bruce_the_shark Rated M / Modern AU / 21630 Words / 2 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Joe grins, lifts his hand from George’s hip to grip him by the chin, twists his face around to catch his lips in a bruising kiss. George relishes in it, likes how the taste of Joe’s preferred brand of liquor mixes with the taste of his own on his tongue. He grins against Joe’s lips, knows it’s going to be a good year.”

Babysitting and Other Rationales by aces_low Rated T / Modern AU / 3267 Words / Complete

Summary: “George Luz is a god damn saint, or at least some kind of kid whisperer. And Joe's just trying to keep his head on straight.”

who let the dogs in? by starblessed Rated T / Modern AU / 1869 Words / Complete

Summary: ““And he heard me shouting and I guess it inspired him or something, cause he full-on charged at me, Joe, and before I could even slam the door, he was just —“ George cuts off with an incoherent noise, gesturing grandly to their front door. “In! And then he was running, and sniffing everything, and exploring our shit, and he peed —““Not on my damn couch,” Joe growls.“No, on the nice carpet. Marking his territory, y’know? Except it’s our territory, but I guess it’s his now, because he won’t freakin’ leave.”

BABEROE (EDWARD HEFFRON/EUGENE ROE)

Call me sweetheart, please? by mariamegale (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 95865 Words (Total) / 12 Works / Complete

Summary: “A not-relationship in the making.”

**Each part could be read as a standalone I suppose... But it’s so worth it to read the whole series!

between the walls by CountlessStars Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 2275 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Eugene decides to paint his living room. It should be easy, it really should, but it doesn't go as planned (in more ways than one).”

Walking Wounded by papersky_pencilstars Rated G / Canon Era / Magic AU / 3501 Words / Complete

Summary: “Prompt: Canon-era; Either Gene or Babe have magic, or both. Maybe magic is known or maybe they need to hide it.”

JOHNNY MARTIN/BULL RANDLEMAN

they don’t know about the up all nights (they don’t know I’ve waited all my life) by PotofCoffee Rated T / Canon Era / 22010 Words / 3 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny and Bull throughout the war, in a slow meandering dance you might just call love.”

All My Love to Give by Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 8852 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny wants to screw around to pass the time. Bull wants to show Johnny how he feels without having to risk saying it”

The Red String by Arwen88 Rated M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 1834 Words / Complete

Summary: “He had to wrench his gaze away from the sickening sight, from the machine that was probably moments away from killing his soulmate. He would’ve thrown himself under that tank if that meant saving his lover, but he couldn’t do it. He had to take care of his men, and so he forced himself to stop looking, to order his men to retreat, to see that they did what he was screaming at them.“

Over Where You Began Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 2949 Words / Complete

Summary: “ The way Bull saw it, Johnny was mad at him now, and Bull had no idea what he'd done wrong. Maybe it was better to just let it lie, let Johnny come out of whatever angry mood he was in on his own, instead of kicking an ant's nest.”

Simple as a Glass of Chocolate by ThrillingDetectiveTales Rated E / Canon Era / 2600 Words / Complete

Summary: ““It was supposed to be syrup,” Johnny muttered darkly. “Says right there on the can!”“Reckon it started out that way,” Bull shrugged, biting his lip against a smile when Johnny narrowed a glare over his shoulder.(In which Johnny and Bull try to sweeten up their sex life and it doesn't go exactly as planned.)”

CHUCK GRANT/RONALD SPEIRS

to Babel, in ruins by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era (Post-War) / 5114 Words / Complete

Summary: “Chuck knows recovery isn't a linear event. Knows there are times when words will leave him and the night will place him back beneath the dirt. Knows there are things he just can't speak about.Captain Speirs hears him anyway.”

pulse by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era / 4706 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Ron Speirs knows how to kill. Knows how to hurt, how to twist, how to maim. He doesn't think he's figured out how to love, not really, not where it counts the most, but the touches he reserves for Chuck Grant beg to differ.. “

AUTHORS

there are so many authors on this list that have written tons of amazing works for one or multiple pairings. as much as I would have loved to, I couldn’t rec all of their works... I had a hard enough time keeping it down to 3 or less works from the same author! similar to fics, I’ve only linked authors that I am familiar with/know have written multiple fics, so feel free to send me more people to add to the list :)

churchkey - is a sweetheart. has multiple amazing winnix works. she has recently gotten into super rarepair toye/malarkey. godspeed I’ll see you there when I read those fics.

ThrillingDetectiveTales - writes for multiple pairings. all of their works are fantastic! every time I see their name as the author I go !! and know it’s going to be good.

Howling_Harpy - has written so many fics. many different pairings. lots of speirton. they’ve ripped my heart out and made me cry but then gently kissed my forehead and put my heart back. I think that’s praise of the highest order.

masongirl - another fantastic author who has written so many amazing fics. tons of speirton and other ships too. also has made me cry and then quietly wiped my tears away.

mariamegale - baberoe queen. that’s all I have to say. I was tempted to just rec all her baberoe fics. check them out!

Muccamukk - another multi ship, multi works writer. i had a hard time only choosing a few of their fics to rec. they’ve got so much to offer!

Impala_Chick - writes lots of great webgott and other pairings too!

captainkilly - if i could rec all her fics I would. there’s some rarepair pieces that are fantastic. I didn’t list it here because it’s more of a character centric piece with an OFC and a little bit of ron/chuck dashed in mostly at the end, but read her form & void series. seriously. read it. I have nothing else to say because her work speaks for itself.

Arwen88 - another writer for multiple pairings with multiple works! love to see it. some great rarepair stuff and also fantastic popular pairings.

LT_Aldo_Raine - love their work! they write for multiple pairings.

209 notes · View notes

moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

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#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid fic #Dr Reid #Reid #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Reader insert #Dr Spencer Reid x Reader #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid imagine #Criminal minds imagine

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whiskery-louis · 4 years

Text

Game Night

** Hi everyone here is my first imagine in a while and it is pretty long and there will be a part 2!

Synopsis: Luke and you broke up 6 months ago. Ashton invites you over for game night.

Luke Hemmings x reader

Warnings: None

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!!

*not my photo*

“Come on Y/N you have to come see us! We’re traveling across the country just to see you!” Ashton whined through the phone.

“Well I didn’t ask you too Ash. I can’t risk seeing him-”

“He’s not coming, he’s staying here with her. Hell I don’t even think he knows we left.”

You sighed, “Who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Me and Mikey,” you could hear the smile in his voice. You had always been the closest to him and Michael. Not that you and Calum weren’t close, it was just different.

“What about Cal?” you asked.

“He’s staying back so you know who doesn’t get suspicious about the three of us all leaving for a weekend.”

“I don’t know Ash,” you sighed again. “I have work and stuff. Plus I was supposed to see the twins this weekend, and I wanted to go to Target…” you trailed off as you rattled on with excuses.

“Oh please, you know you miss us just as much as we miss you. It’s been six months Y/N, just come hangout for the night. I promise it’s not gonna be anything big. Just you, me, Mike and Crystal. We’ll just do pizza and play some games. Please Y/N, we’re already at the airport and if you don’t come willingly we got your new address from Lacey.”

You mentally cursed your best friend, she knew you specifically didn’t give any of them your new address for this very reason. You were out of excuses and you could hear Ashton’s smirk through the phone. He had you cornered and he knew it.

“Fine. Text me your Airbnb info and I’ll come over tomorrow when I’m done work. But you better be getting the good pizza, and there better be drinks.”

“Yes she’s in!” you heard Mikey yell in the background. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.

“Bye boys, safe flight.”

You hung up the phone and put your head in your hands. While part of you was very excited to see Ashton and Michael again there was still a part of you that was worried. There was too much history between you and him so of course they all knew about it. They tried not to take sides during the break up but everyone knew he had Calum and you had the other two. It was part of the reason that you had moved back home instead of trying to find a place to stay in L.A.. You could feel the tension that was building between the four of them and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin their friendships or their band. It was all way more important than you.

You hadn’t really spoken to any of them much other than the casual ‘how are you’ texts here and there. But from him it had been radio silence for six months. Now here you were, five minute after speaking with Ashton and you were already more stressed than you’d be in week. What did you get yourself into?

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

It was nearing 6:15 and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull up to the house, you had been circling the block for almost 20 minutes and every time you were about to stop you told yourself one more lap. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you, you knew it was only Ash, Mike and Crystal and yet just the thought of being around his friends was enough to make you sick.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, finally pulling into the drive. You grabbed your bag, and although you hated to admit it, you were excited to see your old friends.

You walked up to the door and hesitantly knocked on it. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood you could hear yelling and footsteps running up to the door.

“Y/N!!!” Ashton yelled engulfing you in a massive hug.

“Can’t breathe…”

“Oi sorry, I’ve just missed you lots.”

“I missed you too.” you grinned at him, wondering what you had been worried about all day. It felt like no time had passed.

“Well let her in the door man,” Michael spoke up from behind.

You smiled as you entered the house and walked over to Mikey hugging him hard.

“It’s been too long,” he muttered as he let you back.

“Well yeah, that kinda happens when there’s a global pandemic and I move across the county.”

You could tell Michael was going to tell you off for moving but Crystal came in the room then and thankfully saved you from talking about him.

She wrapped her arms around you giving you a quick hug, “It’s so good to see you, I’m glad you made it!”

“Me too, though if I didn’t come willingly I knew you’d show up on my doorstep.”

“You got that right,” she laughed, “It took all my energy to keep them in the house all day.”

“Well I appreciate it, I had a lot of work to get through today figuring I’ll still be hungover on Monday from this weekend.”

It was fitting that as soon as I mentioned being hungover we walked into the kitchen to a full stocked bar.

“Man I forgot you guys really go all out for game nights,” you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the fond memories.

“Okay so what game are we playing first?” Ashton asked as he handed you a drink.

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

Two hours later and you really didn’t understand why you were so nervous to come. It was one of the best feelings catching up with your old friends and thankfully they didn’t bring him up once. You were in the middle of an intense game of charades, Crystal and you were kicking the boys asses.

“Alright do you guys want to give up yet? You’re never going to beat us so why not save yourselves the embarrassment.”

They both looked annoyed at how the game was progressing, “Well maybe if Mike could draw anything other than stick figures we would’ve stood a chance.” Ashton grumbled.

“And now you see why I always make sure someone else gets stuck with him,” Crystal laughed as she dodged the pen Michael threw at her.

You all laughed as you cleaned up and you went over to the stack of games, contemplating what you wanted to play next. You guys had made your way through a few different games and a few rounds of drinks and honestly you were exhausted. Since moving back home you didn’t hang out with many people other than Lacey and you forgot how much energy it took to be around people. You were tired but it was the best kind of tired.

“Can we just watch a movie now? I’m tired of losing,” MIchael whined from the couch.

“That’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” you shot back.

Michael just smiled and shrugged his shoulders looking at you, “At least I know it, but I so call picking the movie.” He picked up the remote and started searching through Netflix looking for a good comedy that everyone would watch.

“Anyone up for another round?” Ashton asked and you nodded following him into the kitchen to help. It was silent as he rummaged through the alcohol looking for something new to drink. You hopped up on the counter waiting to see what he would make.

“So how have you really been?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, startly by his question and you could see him looking at you intently and knew exactly what he was talking about, or more so who he was talking about.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated what to tell him. “I’ve been fine.” you answered shortly.

He scoffed at your answer, “Come on Y/N, I know you better than that and as relaxed as you seem, there is still a part of you that is on edge. You ghosted us all when you left and it was like we lost a member of our family. So tell me the truth, how are you really?”

His answer startled you, and you blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Ash I really don’t wanna ruin the night and talk about him. Can we just table it for now and go back in there with Mike and Crystal. I really don't wanna bring the mood down.” You stared back at him and there must’ve been something in your eyes because he dropped it. He handed you a drink and the two of you went back into the other room.

“Hey what were you two talking about?” Crystal asked as you sat next to her on the couch, a knowing look in her eye.

You elbowed her subtly, “Debating if Mikey was gonna pick a shitty movie or not,” you laughed.

“Don’t hate until you see it, it’s a good one you all like.” He pointed to the TV and you saw Shrek was on. “Also you could say thank you I ordered a pizza and it should be here in about 30 minutes.”

“Didn’t you just eat a plate of buffalo chicken dip and mac’n’cheese?”

He shrugged, “If it’s a problem Y/N then you can’t have any.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

You held your hands up in defense “No, no. Just asking, I’m for sure eating that pizza.”

“That’s what I thought,” Michael replied smugly.

You just rolled your eyes at him and sat back to begin the movie. Not even 10 minutes later and there was a knock on the door.

“Y/N since you were so judgy you can go answer the door.”

“Fine, fine. Though you suck at telling time Mikey, this was way less than 30 minutes.”

You got up from the couch and made your way to the door excited that the pizza was here much earlier than anticipated. There was another knock on the door as you were opening it. You froze when you saw who was there.

Luke.

He must not have been expecting you either because he had a dumbfounded look on his face, and his fist was frozen in mid knock.

“Y/N?” he breathed, his eyes boring into yours.

It was silent and you both just stood there and stared at each other. It had been six months since you had seen him and although there were some noticeable changes he was still the same Luke who broke your heart all those months ago. His arms were larger and his shoulders slightly broader. His hair was longer, his roots growing out which somehow suited him more. He had shaved his quarantine beard but the stubble was growing back. His eyes were the same blue that you fell in love with, but they were missing the usual mischievous glint.

“Luke why are you just-” Calum was caught off walking up behind Luke, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you!” He squeezed past Luke and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You had no words as you hugged Cal back, you were still in shock at them being here and you couldn’t take your eyes off Luke,

“What the hell is taking so long?” Ashton came around the corner and froze when he saw the new additions to the party. “Oh you guys are early…” he trailed off.

At his statement you felt the rage building in your veins, you pushed Calum off of you turning to Ashton the anger seeping out of you. “I’m sorry what? They’re what Ashton?”

He looked sheepishly at you, “Surprise?” he shrugged his shoulders, with a slight smile on his face.

You couldn’t believe this. It was all a setup. The whole night was a trick for you to see him again when Ashton knew more than anything that it was the last thing you wanted. You were at a loss for words, as much as you wanted to yell, you didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Look we can explain…”

You held your hand up cutting him off, “Don’t Ashton, just don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’m leaving.”

You stormed into the other room, to get you things. MIchael was trying to look busy but the guilt was written all over his face. Crystal was sitting next to him with her arms crossed glaring at her fiance, she looked up when you walked in.

“I am so sorry Y/N, I had no idea or I would’ve never let them pull this stunt.”

You gave her a weak smile, “I’m just going to get my things and go.”

Michael turned and looked like he was going to say something, but one look from Crystal silenced him.

“Thanks for the fun while it lasted, but please don’t reach out again,” you heard footsteps behind you and knew the others had followed you into the room. “I thought maybe I could be friends with some of you,” you pointedly looked at Luke, “But if this is the shit you are going to pull them I am out. I’m sorry but I cannot go through this again. I just can’t.”

With that you grabbed your bag and all but ran out of the house. As you sat in your car you were thankful that you didn’t have too much to drink and were able to drive yourself home. The thirty minute drive seemed to take forever. All you wanted was your bed and to be distracted by Netflix. After what felt like an eternity you pulled into your driveway and walked into your house. You threw your bag on the table and couldn't believe the night you had. You knew Ashton and Michael had wanted you to talk to Luke when you first broke up, but that was six months ago. You never thought that they would pull this shit tonight. It was almost more painful this time as you realized you had to cut all of them out of your life and not just Luke.

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight and it really messed you up. You had spent the last six month erasing him from your life, as much as you could. You put everything he gave you into a box that was hidden in your basement. You tried to throw it away but it felt wrong somehow. He was too big a part of your life to completely get rid of. Lacey once asked you why you didn’t get rid of it all and you knew she thought it meant you still loved him but that wasn’t it. You just couldn’t bear to part with everything that had once brought you so much happiness. You hadn’t opened the box since you moved back home, as you went downstairs to bring it to the kitchen, you knew it was going to hurt more after seeing him tonight, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You spent over an hour looking through all the memories the two of you had made during your time together and you were a mess sitting on the floor with tears rolling down your face. Maybe it was from the exhaustion that raked your body or the alcohol that was still in your system but you left the contents of the box sprawled over the island and slipped on his old Nirvana shirt before going to your bed and finally falling asleep.

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

The next thing you knew you were being jolted awake by a banging on your door. You looked at the clock and groaned when you saw it was only 8:00am. Who the hell would be here so early. Hoping it was just a package you rolled back over and tried to fall back asleep, when the person knocked again.

You signed as you rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs in nothing but the old shirt you fell asleep in. Rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, you opened the door and had to squint to see who was there.

“Y/N, you uh forgot your phone and I wanted to make sure it got back to you safely.”

You hated that your heart skipped a beat as your name rolled off his lips, your eyes focused on him and the events of last night came back to you instantly.

“Luke.”

#luke imagine #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5sos #5sos imagine #ashton imagine #michael imagine #mikey #cal #calum imagine #luke hemmings preference

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the-edge-of-great · 4 years

Note

can you do 14 with alex finding out that gay marriage is legal maybe learning about other wholesome lgbt+ progress since '95

(there’s a weird glitch or something on my feed where the ask isn’t showing, so just in case, this is for @lemonwilford)

so after finishing this, I have four tabs open for formal dresses, wedding venues, and lesbian wedding aesthetics on Pinterest AND I have an article from 1993 about gay rights (started as a reference but then it got interesting so really, it’s my fourth article)

in other words I kinda get obsessed and distracted with researching and referencing for anything that I write, so, TL;DR enjoy :)

also juke is totally established in this cause I said so

14. “That’s legal now?”

-------

“Ready?”

“Ready!” the guys call back to Julie. They’re in the studio, patiently waiting for the surprise she wanted to show them. She was eager about something when she came home from school and told them she couldn’t practice on Saturday. They might’ve been bummed had she not been bouncing with excitement. Alex had smiled fondly at her; excited Julie was his favorite Julie.

She promised to show them what was happening Saturday before leaving, and now they’re eager themselves.

Julie throws open both studio doors with a type of dramatic flare that Alex can respect. She saunters in wearing a gorgeous golden dress with lace shoulders, a sweetheart neckline, and a hem stops just above her knee, matching heels clicking across the floor. Her hair bounces against her shoulders: big and curly and gorgeous, like always. She’s wearing red lipstick, and her eyeliner is sharp and precise; Alex thinks it’s called a cat eye. There’s so much lingo he still needs to catch up on.

He meets her halfway with a grin and offers his hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, spinning her in a circle. She twists on the toe of her heel, and her dress flares. There are sparkles in the intricate design across her chest that glisten under the studio lights. Alex catches her around the waist when she stumbles to a stop.

“Yeah,” Reggie agrees. “You look amazing.”

Alex joins Reggie as Luke approaches. They share a knowing smile.

“Where are you going looking so good?” he asks, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

Julie beams at him. “A wedding for one of my friends from music class. Her moms are getting married.”

Alex blinks. “Moms?”

Luke frowns. “You mean… two women?”

Like a switch, Julie’s bright demeanor falters. She pushes against Luke’s arms, frowning as she breaks away from him. “Yeah,” she answers, eyeing each of them carefully. “Are you guys… okay with that?”

Alex makes a noise—somewhere between a scoff and a snicker. Okay with that? Of course he is. But confused? Yes. Very.

Reggie nods, chewing on his lip. He’s trying not to smile—Alex can see the corners of his mouth twitching. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course we are, we just—”

“That’s legal now?” Alex blurts.

A second passes, but Julie’s eyes widen with realization. “Ninety-five,” she mutters to herself, nodding slowly. “Right.” Louder, she explains, “Yeah, gay marriage was legalized, like, five years ago. Actually, a lot’s changed since the 90s.”

Luke snickers. “No kidding.”

“Oh my gosh, wait until you see Pride in June! LA has the best celebrations.” She shifts her weight, smiling sheepishly. “Not that I have experienced any outside of here to compare, but, you know what I mean. It’s so much fun! Flynn and I went with Sarah and her moms last year—Sarah’s moms are the ones getting married today.”

Julie is looking at him more than she usually looks at Luke—and she catches herself every time, quickly averting her eyes back to him and Reggie—which is really saying something. She can’t possibly know though, right? He certainly didn’t tell her. He knows neither Luke nor Reggie told her. Is it really so obvious, or could she perhaps… actually be a witch? Was Reggie on to something?

Alex rolls his eyes; he must be having an off day or something to really consider Julie being a witch and Reggie to be right.

“… Or not,” Julie says, rocking on her heels and twisting the ring on her finger. She’s looking at him again, much less sure of herself than before. Reggie and Luke are staring too; Luke elbows him in the side and glares.

“What?” Alex whines, pushing him away. “What are you—Oh! Oh, I wasn’t—I didn’t—” He shakes his head at Julie. “I wasn’t rolling my eyes at you! I just… had a dumb idea… Anyway, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“She said we could go with her,” Reggie explains. “To the wedding, if we want to.” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. How come everyone is so knowing toward him all of a sudden?

“You should,” Julie persists. “Sarah showed us pictures of the venue today at school. It looks gorgeous in the daylight—I can’t wait to see it tonight.”

Luke grins. “Of course we’ll go.” He chuckles at the guys. “I mean, what else do we have to do?”

So, that’s how they end up in the outdoors of Orange County. The guys ride in the back of Ray’s car—apparently, ghosts can ride in cars. Flynn doesn’t carpool with Julie; when the girls reunite, she explains how her mom decided last minute that Flynn’s hair would look better in a bun rather than her regular braids.

They pose for pictures from Ray and the wedding photographer. Then Sarah, Alex thinks—a teenage girl with fair skin and copper red hair in a neat plait against her shoulder—rushes over with the biggest grin on her face. The girls gush over their outfits, the night, the decorations, etc etc. They’re cute; Alex shares a fond smile with Luke and Reggie.

“This place is pretty,” Reggie admits, turning in a slow circle to take in the scenery. They’re in a forest, surrounded by towering pine trees, and there are lights everywhere. Streams of globe bulbs are strung up from tree to tree, creating an arch in the center where a long, white rug leads to a stage filled with golden flowers. The sun was already setting when they left Julie’s house, so by now, the reception is a warm glow in an otherwise dark forest.

“Alex,” Luke mutters, as if anyone could actually hear them, and nudges his elbow into Alex’s side, “look around dude. Most of these couples aren’t straight.”

He noticed when they first arrived that men mostly stayed with men and women mostly stayed with women, but now that Luke has pointed it out, Alex is noticing that the guests are actually couples. A couple to their left is discussing the food. One man feeds the other a bite of a sandwich and gloats when his partner admits it’s actually not bad. To their right, two women are posing in front of the wedding photographer. One is kissing the other’s cheek.

“I think this is the most…” Alex pauses, trying to both find the right word and take it all in because, really, this is a lot. It’s a good amount of a lot, of course, but… These people are openly showing off their partners. They’re happy. They’re proud of themselves. And the straight people aren’t saying anything rude? No one is cursing at them? Claiming they’ve damned themselves?

“Alex?” Reggie asks softly.

“I know a lot is different from, you know,” Alex begins, “but I think this is the biggest change I’ve seen. I mean—” He gestures wildly at the scene before them. “This is legal! This is legal. It’s accepted. They’re just—Everyone is just—themselves! They’re themselves, and it’s okay.”

“I was gonna ask how you feel about it, but—” Luke shares a laugh with Reggie— “I think I have my answer.”

“I feel…” Alex rocks on his heels, considering his answer. He chews on his lip. “You guys will probably think it’s dumb, but—”

“You know we won’t think it’s dumb,” Reggie argues immediately. Alex glances at him. He’s giving Alex this look with a raised eyebrow, like he can’t believe he would even think that. Which is valid, you know, because they’ve never been anything less than supportive of Alex. Of course they haven’t; he really lucked out in the friend department.

“I feel safe here.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “Like when I could finally leave my house to go to practice, and I knew none of you guys would judge me if I told you about a guy that I thought was cute.” He finds Julie in the crowd, chatting with the lesbian couple he saw earlier, posing for pictures—selfies—with them and laughing when the woman’s partner hid bunny ears behind her head.

Alex rubs the back of his neck. “I just… don’t think I could’ve imagined feeling safe around people who aren’t my friends.” He finally turns to Luke and Reggie, who are watching him with wide grins. Alex huffs a laugh. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Reggie chuckles. He slings an arm around Alex’s shoulders. “We’re just happy for you, man.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees. He hums. “Can’t wait to see what the whole thing with June is about.”

“Yeah!” Reggie exclaims. “D’ya think it’s a few days? A week?”

“We can ask Julie later,” Alex suggests.

Reggie snickers. “If she doesn’t stay with Flynn.”

Luke hums. “Yeah, I’m gonna… go convince her to stay home tonight.” He pauses to squeeze Alex’s shoulder before leaving them for the dance floor.

Alex suddenly steps away from Reggie. “I, uh… I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I just—I want to find Willie. I want to talk to him about something.”

“You’re really going to leave me third wheeling with jukebox over there?”

Alex snorts. “Jukebox? Have they approved of that name?”

“… They don’t know about it.” Reggie pauses, then adds, “And you’re not going to tell them.”

“I promise.”

Reggie chuckles. “You better. Now go, find your boy.”

He’s at the museum, the first place Alex looks. He’s just leaving actually—as soon as Alex arrives at the building, Willie is phasing through the door, about to skate down the street.

“Willie!” Alex calls.

Willie steps off his board. He turns to him, and instantly, a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“So,” Alex says, stopping in front of him, grinning, “tell me about Pride.”

Willie’s eyes shine at the request, just as beautiful as the lights from the wedding.

“I’d love to.”

#Julie and the phantoms #JATP #JATPprompts #willex #willie jatp #willie x alex #Alex jatp

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years

Text

i can’t hold you now (and god, it kills me)

rafael barba x female!reader. based on “townhouse incident (season 17, episode 10).”

word count: 12,500

rating: mature, for the pain that comes when someone you love is just out of reach (canon-typical mentions of rape, and tw: vivid depictions of assault and rapes in progress, blood, guns, hostage situation. not fun).

The call from Liv isn’t exactly unexpected – you’re about halfway across town to pick her up anyway, and you’d shot her a text that had gone unanswered about her preferred coffee order. The day is for the two of you. However, the request is an odd one, or at the very least, inconvenient.

You hadn’t anticipated the invitation, and like a lot of things in SVU, it came last minute. If anything, you’d thought Dodds would’ve gotten the invite, considering that he was her sergeant. But, something about your interest in the technical aspects of the jobs, the medical aspects of the jobs, hell, the lab as a whole, had caught Liv’s eye, and so when these innovations came up, a new way to look at DNA, your name was always on the list. It was an honor, and spending the day with the lieutenant never disappointed.

You answer her call with a smile. “Hey, I’m on my way, I promise. I just needed the caffeine boost for another day of lectures,” you tell her. Your voice is light, and the clock in your car tells you that there’s plenty of time. “Like, ten minutes?”

Your boss’s little chuckle is light, but there’s something strained in it. “Not a big fan of those seats personally, but. We’ve got to make a stop first.”

You reach down for your iced coffee, taking a long gulp. The sweetness on your tongue makes you smile, mainly because you can see Barba wincing at the sugary mess you insist on downing.

Rafael Barba. The A.D.A. for the Special Victims Unit, the transfer from Kings County, Harvard Law graduate, Bronx native… and your boyfriend. Even thinking it makes you smile around your straw.

It’d started off like anything else, you and Rafael. Meeting in the squad room after you’d joined up. Bickering and squabbling, different people with different worldviews in high stress situations. The amount of times Liv’s eyes had rolled at the two of you bickering could’ve broken world records. (Amanda was known for leaving the room with her hands up in the air when the two of you got particularly biting, especially if Carisi was added like a cherry on top.)

But then you’d watched him soften. Watched his way with the victims soften, watched his eyes soften. Watched squabbling and bickering turned into standing side-by-side and making snide comments from the other side of one-way glasses. Energy against turned into energy together, and the two of you became a duo that could convince a defendant of anything in those interrogation rooms.

(“At least they’re being productive,” Fin had snarked to Liv, as the two of them watched the interrogation unfold. “Last time they fought paperwork got held up for a week just to spite him.”)

And then the other shoe dropped, as it always did, with a case.

Squabbling turned into standing over his desk, facing him down over a file. You’d stared at him, eyes narrowed, hands gripping his mahogany desk.

“I will not stand by while people we promised to protect are thrown aside in the name of the law.” Your voice hadn’t even dared to waver, and he had stared right back.

His eyes had scanned you. Up, down. Narrowed, sharp, and you braced yourself for the return volley. And then he’d stared right back.

His hand reached out to cover yours. Squeezed it.

“Trust me. Neither will I.”

(The first kiss didn’t happen, then, but it came pretty soon after.)

Rafael’s a good boyfriend, even though sometimes his work prevents him from being as attentive as you know he wants to be. But there’s a catch, because there’s always a catch – you haven’t exactly told anyone yet.

At first it’d been just because it was easier. Because how can you tell the squad what you are when you don’t even know? But when long nights turned into early mornings, and conversations turned serious, it became the only way. To protect yourself, to protect the team, you needed to keep it separate. These two things could not mix, or else disaster would surely come of it.

(“I don’t even want to think about what Carisi will say,” he’d told you one night, fingers running down your arm, and you’d snorted before rolling over to kiss him, shut him up.)

So the now is like this: the day ends, he’s Rafael, and he teases you and tempts you and kisses you. The day begins anew, and he’s back to Barba, and you have to settle for good enough.

Even though he’s more, all you can be is colleagues in the squad room, in interrogations, during debriefs with Liv. Any affection you want to show has to be bottled up until those precious moments alone. It’s exhausting, but worth it, getting to know Rafael, and getting to really, truly care for him.

You shake your head, forcing your thoughts back to the present. You finish your sip, raise a brow. “What kind of stop?”

“A favor.”

You slowly pull up to a red light. The coffee is down. The phone is in the passenger seat and jolts at little at the stop, so you reach for it, turn the speaker off. When you hold it up to your ear you can catch the little things: the rustle of Olivia’s hair against the microphone, Lucy’s voice behind her, something that sounds a lot like Noah babbling.

“What’s up?” You shift in your seat, suddenly very aware of the gun on your hip.

“Lucy works with another family, asked us to check in one them. Said the mother had bruises around her neck, shooed her away after saying that the kid was sick and the husband yelled at her.” Liv’s voice is tense, and you feel your shoulders rise a little. Your jaw clenches, too. “So, can you pick me up?”

Domestic violence cases always have your anger flaring, the thought of those victims stuck and unable to get out. Your sigh is short, sad. “Yeah. I’ll grab you and we’ll head over.”

“Thanks.” She signs off, and suddenly the sugar in your coffee feels like it’s churning in your gut.

For a moment your hand runs over your phone’s screen. Wakes it up from its brief sleep, ready to text Barba – to text Rafael – the update. Might be a little late. Favor called in. But then the light turns green, and you toss your phone to the side, sighing.

You’ll do it later. After the visit. When all is said and done.

Olivia knocks. It’s loud, repetitive, sure to get the attention of whoever’s home. Your hands slide into the pockets of your jacket, your toe tapping on the concrete.

“Did Lucy say anything else?” you ask your boss, but before she can answer the door opens. Slowly, carefully, and you find yourself looking over every detail the woman who peeks out offers.

She looks exhausted, first of all. Her eyes are watery, and you can clearly see the bruising. One hand is holding the door open, the other hidden. You wonder if there’s bruising there, too, and your hands in your pockets clench into fists at the thought of someone hurting her.

“Hi, Lisa.” Your boss greets. Her smile is small, but there’s something urgent in the way she does the same scan. “Olivia Benson.”

“Right, Noah’s mom,” Lisa responds, and she’s quick to tell them that Lucy’s not there.

Liv has perfected the concerned friendliness, and her head tilts a little at the assumption. “Well, actually, I stopped by to speak with you.” With a gesture to you, Liv introduces you as a friend, and you offer your warmest smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Crivello,” you say. “How’re you doing?”

“Well, Luca’s sick, so – so it’s not really a good time,” she stammers out, and you glance towards your lieutenant, who seems unfazed. When you look back, though, you see the injuries add up. The span of the bruises. The little marks on her face.

“You have a little cut, over your eye,” you tell her. Your hand starts moving to your bag for something to dab at it, clean it up.

But Lisa just shakes her head. She looks even more teary, close to letting them fall as she pulls back a little from the door. “I should go…”

Again, Liv just looks at her, and you see her brow furrow for a moment. “Well… how about we come back later? Is that all right?”

Suddenly the two of you hear a voice from behind the mother. It’s quiet, but firm.

“Let them in.”

It’s like a switch is flicked. The uncertainty gives way, and suddenly, Lisa acquiesces. Glances down at her feet for a second before opening the door wide, and the two of you smile at her as you’re let into the apartment. But your eyes see almost nothing before something clocks you in the back of the head, and you hear Liv’s cry as she’s shoved back against the door.

There’s a clatter, but the room doesn’t go black. The hit just grazes you, fortunately and unfortunately, and you stumble forward into arms that are anything less than welcoming. A woman has Lisa, a guy with sweat on his brow has Liv against the door, and a third is the one who’s grabbing you. Your vision is blurry, and your ears are ringing, but you can see Liv lift her hands, see her look both of the captors in the eye.

There’s another girl, you realize. She’s young, a teenager, and when your eyes meet hers you can see her tears. The whole room comes into some kind of focus, and when you take it in your heart starts to sink.

Oh, fuck, what did the two of you get yourselves into?

Instincts start kicking in quick, even in your daze. Your hands test the strength of the guy behind you, which makes his grip turn bruising, and you hear the shouts of the men as they tell the two of you to drop your bags.

“Who the hell is she?!” one of them hisses, and your whole body shivers at the feeling of breath on your neck. “Who are they?!”

“My name is Olivia Benson.” There’s a shake in her voice, the adrenaline, the high, and your eyes blink a few times to focus in on her.

“Liv –“ you call out, but her eyes meet yours suddenly. She glares, and you go quiet, once again feeling those hands tighten on you. It’s as good as an order from her.

“We’re here by chance, okay, but the both of us are New York City police officers.”

The panic on them in clear, and you feel one of the hands holding you start to roam against your waist.

“Fuck, man, this one’s armed,” says the man holding you, and Olivia just sighs, nodding.

“I am, too. Okay? I am, too. I’m telling you now, do you understand?”

“Ralph,” the guy next to Liv says sharply. He’s jittery, and you see a bead of sweat drip down his brow. “Come take this.”

Your guy just stammers out something. “But I’ve got her, Joe.”

There’s no warning, from Ralph or from Joe. One moment, you’re being held to keep from struggling, and the next there’s another hit, this one against your temple. Liv’s voice is the last thing you hear as you crumple, and your mind goes blank, the room going dark.

When you stumble to consciousness again, it’s to the sound of sobbing. Your head is slumped forward, and the taste in your mouth is copper.

“Fuck,” you hiss. Every movement feels like fire, and when you blink your eyes open it’s to see one of the men, Joe, jostling the teenage girl in his arms, they’re moving towards another room. She’s screaming, Liv and Joe are talking, and Roxie is yelling. The cacophony of her voice and everyone else’s makes you wince and groan again.

“Roxie, this is on you. Let me in there,” Olivia all but snarls, and you see her get clocked across the face. Watch her stumble, get shoved on the bed. You’re pinned to the bed, you realize, as you try to reach for your lieutenant. Tied around it, your ass on the hardwood floor.

“Liv,” you whisper, and your voice makes her pause. You’re awake, after all. But the look she shoots you is sharp. She wants you to let her handle it, you realize. Throw herself in the line of fire.

Yeah, you think to yourself, unlikely without your company.

Joe. Ralph. Roxie. The trio that broke in. Ralph is… gone, now, nowhere in sight, and… where’s Lisa? Your eyes blink a few more times, the sounds around you ratcheting up to full volume as you wake.

There’s someone else here, another voice, so painfully young. A memory swims to the surface as your head swivels from side to side – Lucy takes care of their boy.

Liv hasn’t moved since she got hit, hasn’t said a thing, but the screams are raucous. They make your head spin, and Roxie only adds to it when her frustration reaches her limit.

“Can’t you just shut up? God, make him shut up,” Roxie snarls, and you blearily blink so you could turn to look at Liv. Her eyes are like daggers at the woman, who looks frantic at the noises Luca is making, the sound of… his sister…

Begging for his own sister’s life.

God. You feel sick, and combined with the concussion you’re trembling.

“You’re gonna need to untie me to do that, aren’t you?” your boss almost whispers. She’s frustrated, pulling at her restraints as her will battles Roxie’s. “Please, I’m not going to do anything stupid, just let me help the boy.”

When you look back at Roxie, she looks helpless. Even with the gun in her hand. And when she moves to untie Luca and Liv, cutting off her restraints, the sigh of relief you let out is audible, even with Roxie’s whisper threat over your head.

So Liv goes. Goes to Luca, quiets him, and her voice is so gentle. It makes your lower lip tremble, the way she cradles him against her, reaches for his iPad so he can send the world away. He doesn’t deserve this, not even a little, but Liv is there for him anyway.

Leaving you to stare down Roxie.

“You wanted this?” you mutter, and the woman’s attention shoots to you, her gun shaking ever so slightly in her hand. “It’s on you, like she said. All of this, right now.”

“Shut up,” she snaps, and Liv looks up, too, lifting from her spot next to Luca, who is thankfully engrossed in a movie.

“This can’t be the way you wanted things to go down,” she adds, and she’s able to stand to her full height, dwarf the woman who looks nothing more than a girl. Uncertain, even in her arguments.

“You don’t know me,” Roxie snaps back, and you scoff, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t want to, if you’re fine with your boyfriend raping a sixteen-year-old girl,” you hiss. Her gun shifts between the two of you, Olivia staring her down, you glaring up from your spot on the bed. “Do you even hear that? Do you hear what he’s doing to her, that sick son of a –”

“Well, Joe does Joe, and I do me, so you better sit down.”

“You can save yourself,” Liv tries, but the girl just raises her voice, pulls back. You duck your head to hide the frustration on your features, the clench of your teeth as Liv’s phone chimes.

When Roxie moves to it, you look up at your lieutenant, who spares a glance down at you. You must look a mess, because you can feel the slow throb of your temple, the stickiness of your hair that’s surely from blood. You can smell it, on you, but even after all of it, you offer a smile. A small grimace. And when Liv turns toward Roxie again, her toe taps yours.

“Who’s Lucy?”

Liv freezes. You see her shoulders tense, and for the first time since you’ve woken up another name dances across your mind. Noah. Oh, god. All of this, and Liv has Noah, and your stomach rolls again.

Your boss is quick. Her minds works, and as you blow hair out of your face she’s reaching for the phone.

“She’s my sitter. She’s also Luca’s sitter, and she needs to talk to me. She needs to know about my son’s daycare pickup.”

Wait. Pickup? It’s… it’s what, 11:00 in the morning? Your mind swirls with confusion, but in shock you realize that Roxie is handing her the phone, that Roxie is letting her text back. Your eyes widen, and quickly you duck your head.

It’s almost in prayer, you realize. With your hands tied behind you, with the feel of them going numb against the metal that’s hot from your own body heat.

Please, Lucy. Whatever she tells you. Get it to the right people.

Suddenly, a face swims to mind, and your eyes widen, blinking away the sudden rush of tears. Liv is surely thinking about her son, but all you can think about is Rafael.

Please, Rafael. Please be the right person.

The wake-up call in the morning is a text, and Rafael Barba blinks blearily at the message. It’s almost habit that makes his lip curl up in a smile, and when he throws off the sheets it’s with a preparedness for the morning he almost never has.

Perhaps it’s just the expectation of coffee. These huge events usually have a few cups for him to help himself, too, and he knows the sight of him downing them will make your lip curl in disgust. Or maybe it’s the knowledge, knowing that going to this DNA conference will make him a better lawyer, a better advocate for the victims.

Or maybe, it’s just that the text is from you.

You’d been a surprise, when you’d met him. A veritable source of conflict on one hand, with snappy words soothed by smiles. A disregard for the courtroom, in more ways than one. A capable detective, who had a tendency to follow instinct whether it helped or hurt. At least, that’d been the pitch.

Of course, because it was Rafael, the start had been shaky. Bickering and bantering over everything and nothing. More than once Liv had to shut the two of you up with a raised hand and a raised brow, since gut collided with a man who wore suspenders and a belt.

(“If the two of you don’t get it together, I’m throwing both of you out,” she’d threatened one eventful evening, her voice very reminiscent of the tone she took with Noah. An unsteady peace was made through the end of the week.)

But just like the squad, just like Rollins, and Carisi, and Liv, all it took was one case.

One case to turn the tide.

From there, it’d grown. Moments alone, somehow snagged against all odds. Him and you in a side room in the courthouse, talking about deals. Visits to his office to break the monotony, banter and bribe with snack to take a break. You became a friend, first and foremost, and from there it slotted into place.

Didn’t take long for him to realize just how much he’d fallen for you. A kiss sealed the deal, Rafael finally working on instinct. But while the short-term was brilliant, the long-term was more… complex.

The ADA, together with a detective. Complicated to say the least, a disaster waiting to happen at most. But how could he stay away, knowing that you had a smile that was just for him? Eventually, the two of you had agreed – it would be a secret, from the squad, from the office. The only people that needed to know were you and him.

On the outside, you did your best to treat him like everyone else, treat him like before. Banter and bicker and bite. You’d slug him in the arm same as Carisi, and you laugh with him like you do Rollins, and you roll your eyes with him and Fin as the perps incriminate themselves.

But when the two of you were alone… when you knew you were alone…

Of course, that doesn’t mean that he can’t enjoy the thought of spending time with you even at work, can’t enjoy your morning texts in the privacy of his own apartment. Today is the DNA conference, after all, which is why your text isn’t surprising. He expects to see you there, you and Liv. You send him your itinerary, which matches his almost to the letter, and he thinks about you as he thinks about what to wear, thinks about you as he pours himself his coffee, and thinks to stop thinking about you as he pulls up to the conference.

And then… you’re nowhere to be found.

He double-checks the schedule you and Liv have planned out. It’s intricate, but there are overlaps. And in those sessions, he sits, thinks about saving a seat. But there’s no further texts, nothing, and that makes the lectures a bit harder to get through. He’s almost thankful for the text from Carisi, the one that pulls him up and out of his chair and out the door. Because surely this is what’s keeping you.

Got the push-in rapist.

When Rafael makes it to the precinct and immediately grabs a cup of coffee.

“What do we have?” he asks Dodds, who is the first to greet him. Not you. Or Liv. He gets filled in by the new sergeant, and by the time they make it to the one-way glass he’s noticed that the two of you are nowhere to be found. It makes his brow furrow, but soon he’s leaning against the window, watching as the man inside starts fidgeting.

“He was on top of the roof, got trapped. Had the weapon on him, too, tossed aside. It was clean,” the sergeant tells him, and Barba can’t help the lift of his brow.

“We’re sure?” he asks, letting the doubt creep in, and Dodds’ eyes narrow at the ADA.

Fin backs him up, arms crossed over his chest. “It was clean, Barba. We got him.”

There’s a bit of relief, and tension in Rafael’s shoulders drop. Fin joins the two of them in front of the window, and he nods at him. He takes a sip of his coffee, and the steps that stalk towards the squad are distinctly unfamiliar.

“Well, congratulations. You found another innocent black man.” The defense attorney is vaguely familiar, and his eyes scan the three of them with disdain (and some kind of sick glee at his own taunts). “I suppose we should be grateful that you didn’t shoot him.”

“He had a gun on him,” Fin says, no flair, just facts.

“Did he?” is the return, and Rafael looks between the two sides, brow raised. “Who planted it?”

That’s when the ADA decides then he doesn’t have time for this, and he lets his scoff sound over his coffee cup.

“Don’t troll. This is your client’s third rape. We have multiple IDs.” He says it with a confidence that he rarely gets to have, and it feels good to be able to reply with the knowledge that DNA will match, IDs will be made. Dodds again affirms the presence of DNA, forensics, and that’s that.

It could all go horribly wrong, of course, but he still has time to relish just a little in the assurances provided.

“Save it for the judge. May I?” The public defender moves smoothly into the interrogation room, and Barba watches him for a few moments before turning to Dodds again.

“Nice work.” Frank, but honest. And straight to the point. “Where’s Liv and Y/N?” he asks, casually, paired with another sip of coffee. There’s no urgency, even as he hopes that Dodds has some idea why you bailed.

But the sergeant seems unbothered, and Fin pipes up as he stands up straight, hands in his pockets. “They’re both still at the DNA conference.”

Barba stops. Pushing off of the window, stands up straight. Looks at the two officers in front of him. Smirks a little. Not a prank, he guesses. Something else came up, surely. “No, they’re not. I was there all morning. I would’ve seen them.” He doesn’t confirm how he knows he would’ve seen them, the texts from you on the cell in his pocket, but he does know that the two of you were nowhere to be seen.

And… well. That certainly catches the two of them by surprise. Dodds looks at Fin, and Fin looks back at Dodds.

“I’ll text her again,” Dodds decides. “Let’s wrap this case up, get it delivered to her signed, sealed.”

But at that point, there’s still a hesitant peace. A certainty that whatever is wrong will be resolved, wherever Liv is she’s there for a reason. Rafael finds himself hoping the same thing for you, hoping you are not far behind her, that soon enough your voice will be heard down the hall, in the elevator, your laugh pitched high among all else.

And then, the peace shatters.

“Guys, we’ve got a problem here.” Carisi’s voice is sharp, tight. His strides are long, and soon he’s across the precinct, at Fin’s desk. “Liv just texted this to Lucy, and… it’s bad news.”

Rafael’s brows inch up his head. His mind goes to the solution that’s obvious – that Carisi is overreacting. That nothing’s as wrong as the Fordham student says it is. He doesn’t even lift his pen from the paper.

And then Fin reads.

“Stuck at precinct all day. Pick up William at daycare. He has a playdate with Lewis and Y/N today.”

In a moment Barba finds his head spinning. He lifts up, looks around the room at the other men, watching as their own minds piece together the information.

William Lewis. Just the thought of him sets Barba’s teeth on edge, sets his body alight. He has to straighten so he can wrap his mind around the implication.

“William Lewis?” he repeats. Well. Says, out loud. “That’s… that’s not good.” But he remains calm. He has to remain calm. His voice is steady, even as it wants to tremble. “When did you last hear from them? From Liv?”

Barba tries to keep his cool, but he can’t ignore the way his heart is pounding. Can’t ignore the way that he turns to Dodds again. “Have you spoken to them today?” he urges, and the sergeant jaw is clenched as Rafael reaches for the phone Fin has in his hand.

His eyes scan the words. Over and over, just to confirm. He can’t help but hope against hope that Fin read it wrong, but everything is there, in black in white in front of his face. There’s a growing dread in the pit of his stomach.

“I sent Liv a text, let her know we got the push-in rapist,” the sergeant explains. “She responded.”

“Same with Y/N. I texted her, earlier, and I got a reply,” Fin tells Barba, but there’s still something that’s got him on edge.

“But did you talk to them? Hear their voices?” He hopes the others can’t hear the break in his voice, the worry in his tone. “You didn’t actually speak to them?”

The silence is deafening.

For once, he and Carisi are on the same page. Their eyes meet over Fin’s desk. “That sounds like a 10-13 if I’ve ever heard one. It’s gotta be. Lucy said that Liv checked on a neighbor this morning?”

Dodds’ voice cuts through before Rafael’s can. “Where?”

The four men find themselves all turning to the nanny, who stands off to the side. Her worry, that brought her to the precinct in the first place, seems close to crashing over her.

“Go find out.” It’s not an order, not really, but it leaves Barba’s mouth before he can stop it. And without a second to waste, Dodds and Carisi step towards Lucy, while Barba looks down to his own phone.

It’s instinct. One tap, two, three, and there’s your name. His thumb sweeps over the screen before he presses dial, and within an instant his phone is at his ear. He’s dialed your number, what feels like hundreds of times, but the ringing stretches on and on and on. Each time it goes off, he expects the call to connect, for you to tease about calling during work hours. Can’t get enough of me at work, Barba?

When he hears your voice, he starts, wants to feel that relief, but the automated message is the only thing that’s going. His heart climbs into his throat.

One more time. He pulls back, taps a couple of times. Another call, this time to Liv. The same thing. Ringing, ringing, ringing. Message.

Nothing. He tries both numbers again, with all eyes on him, with the same result.

Two of them. Two of their own. Gone without a trace. And all Barba can think about is the name William Lewis, and the sight of it so close to your own.

Nausea rolls, and he tries one more time.

“Barba,” Fin tells him. Reaches out, fingers on his desk. “Barba.”

When he looks down, Fin’s eyes are piercing him. There’s something in them, something that makes the lawyer think the old blood knows more than he ever lets on. That Fin knows exactly what the day looks like now, and what the next case will be.

“Find out,” he manages, and tries not to think about how he’s dialed your number yet again, the sound of your automated message the definition of insanity.

Your phone is in Roxie’s hand. It buzzes, over and over again, and then the same thing happens with Liv’s phone on the chair next to her. Your captor watches it, reads the name and then the notifications on your own phone. There’s a back and forth, a pause, and then she looks at the two of you with confusion.

“Barba keeps calling. And this guy, Rafael. Why?”

Your breath catches. Liv is on the bed, her feet planted next to you, and you hear her words, vaguely. Something about work.

Then you realize Roxie is staring at you, raising a brow your direction. You swallow, blink a few times. Clear your head, offer a tight smile.

“Just… probably calling to ask about a case. Let it ring. He’ll get the… the message,” you say, and her eyes narrow at you before setting your phone down.

You feel Liv’s toe tap your leg. When you look up at her, her eyes catch yours, and you feel her gaze sweep over your face before you shake your head.

Not now, Liv.

She taps your leg again, but you refuse to rise to the bait, and that’s when the door bursts open.

Joe says something, but his voice fades away. All you can see is the girl, the way her face is vacant now. The faraway look, in her eyes, and your chest tightens at the sight of her hair, limp around her face.

Your sympathy turns to anger in an instant, as she limps over to the bed. Liv’s voice is soft to the girl, but your mouth twists into a sneer as you look up at Joe, who sneers right back.

“What are you looking at?” he scoffs, and the rage is blinding.

“Untie me and you’ll find out,” you shoot back.

“Playing hero, huh?” Roxie spits, but Joe beats her to it, glancing toward your phone.

“Got someplace you gotta be? Someone at home waiting for a detective who’ll never come back?” His threat isn’t lost on you, and your instinct is gone, replace with the impulse to lash out, kick at his legs.

A third tap, a warning shot, but it’s too late. Joe reaches for your collar, and Liv’s hands reach out to stop him, press against his chest as he lunges.

“You’re okay, Joe, it’s fine,” she urges, and his mouth goes a little agape as he stumbles back.

“What the hell, Roxie? What is she doing untied?”

“She was helping with Luca –” you snap, just as Roxie says that Liv isn’t going anywhere.

“If she does, she’ll never see her son again,” Joe sneers, and he moves to retie Liv just as there’s another phone ring. But it’s not Rafael, and it’s not your squad. It’s the third wheel, it’s Ralph, and you watch as Joe’s anger is stoked again. It’s like watching a train you know is going to crash, your eyes drawn to the disaster as it happens. Joe’s frustration is only peaked by Lisa’s demands, and your admiration for the will of a mother is tempered by the way that Joe’s voice grinds on his last sentence.

“Now get the cash, or they’re dead.”

One thing after another. Your head, still pounding, can barely keep up, your energy gone from the kick. There’s a ring at the doorbell, and Joe’s corralling Tess downstairs. You strain to listen, to hear anything, but the muffled voices aren’t ones you can recognize. When Tess comes back up, she’s shaky, and Joe screaming at her doesn’t help.

“They were cops! What the hell did you say?!”

Cops? you think to yourself, and for a moment images of your team swims across your vision. Oh, god.

“Nothing, I just told him Luca and I were sick!”

Joe’s pacing now, and Liv is standing. She reaches out for them, and her voice is so strong, so calm. You’re still on the bed, attached, but you force yourself to breath in and out, to look up at Joe with Liv and try to talk him down.

“Now is the time for you guys to go,” she whispers.

“You need to stop talking,” Joe hisses, but your voice chimes in before he can think too much.

“This is only the beginning,” you add. It’s what you have to do. Make him think, make them second guess. Your hands pull at your restraints to no avail, and you huff out a breath to move the hair in your eyes. “You guys should get out of here, while you still can.”

“What do you mean?” Roxie asks, but she’s silenced by Joe. Your anger at him only grows at the way he grips her tight, enough to bruise her wrists.

“They are cops – both of them, do you fucking hear me? She is lying to you, and everything that comes from her mouth is a lie.”

“Joe, there is no perimeter,” Liv urges. “Look outside. There’s no one out there. If you sneak out the back, they won’t find out who you are.”

The conversation ends with one last word from Joe. A knife in his hand pointing at all you, even Roxie. “And we’re not going anywhere until we got the money.”

The next hour is ruthless. Your concussions settle in, and you keep having to force your eyes open as Liv moves to sit next to you. The lights and the sirens are relentless, and every so often you can’t help the groan that leaves your lips at the pain.

Liv’s at the bed, too, with Tess and Luca, and a hand reaches out to you. You hear Luca’s voice, soft and gentle. “Is she gonna be alright?” he asks your boss, and before she can answer you look up at them with a shaky smile.

“Hey, buddy. Yeah. I’m – I’m fine. Just. Just got a bit of a headache. Go back to your movie, okay?”

You try to ignore the way that Liv’s hand presses on your shoulder, the way you can feel her urge for calm through the touch. Try to forget that for a few minutes, that’s the only thing grounding you, her fingers on your skin and the knowledge that your friends are out there. Your family.

And Joe? Joe’s on the edge. His fingers keep messing with the blinds, keep pulling them down and shoving them aside when the sight of the cops steadily piling into the street overwhelms him. You watch his hands go to his hair, pull, and drop back down to his sides, watch his sweat drip down his forehead. He looks manic, he looks pissed, and Roxie’s whispered doubts only do that much more to drive him mad.

“Let Richard go,” Liv urges, at one point. “Let the kids go. Keep me – I’m your best asset.”

Oh, no, you don’t, Liv, you think. Not while you’ve got Noah.

“Keep me,” you press. Your hands are still tied, so you push forward with your shoulders. “I’ll do whatever you need to do, but if you let the kids go, if you let Richard go, use me as a bargaining chip.”

“Y/N,” Liv warns, but you pull forward again, the zip-tie digging into your skin.

“They won’t come after you if I’m inside,” you urge. “Liv’ll make sure of that. Keep me, Joe. Keep me, and… and I can get you out of here.”

But before you can push anymore, Joe is shaking his head. Roxie looks frantic, and their voices drown each other out.

“Just shut up!” is the shriek that stops her, but Liv is reaching out to him again.

“Joe. Just let the kids go.”

“Will they stand down?” Joe snaps, suddenly, at Liv. You sigh out a groan, as Liv just shakes her head. “No. Not unless they hear it from you. You’ll call them, tell them to stand down. You’re going to get us out of here.”

“Joe, they’re not going to stand down,” Liv tries, but soon her phone’s in her hand, anyway, and there’s a gun to your head. You wince, tears springing to your eyes as you squeeze them shut. Liv’s voice catches in her throat.

“There’s – there’s no need for that, Joe –“

“But I’m not playing. Call them.”

“Okay. I’m calling my sergeant. Speaker is on.”

When the gun is pulled from your head you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You gasp for air, and when the phone call goes through, Mike’s answer is drowned out by your own breathing.

At the mention of a negotiator, he loses it. There doesn’t seem to be anything that doesn’t set him off, and Roxie can’t calm him.

“No, I want to get out of here,” he snaps, and your voice comes out raw.

“We have to negotiate, Joe.” You’re begging him, begging him to see reason. “We have to, if you want to survive.”

Liv fills in the gaps. “You have a family in here, Joe. You have two police officers in here. They will burst in here if you do not negotiate. That is where we are.”

“So – so who do you trust?” the asshole sneers, and the gun points to Liv, nudges against her shoulder. “At the NYPD.”

“My squad,” she responds immediately. Your heart warms, for a moment, before the chill of Joe’s voice freezes it again.

“Oh, no. Someone with more pull.” You watch Joe lean close to Liv, watch his breath puff in her face. “So I’ll fucking ask again. Does anyone at the NYPD care if you both live, or if you die?”

You look up at her. You can see her thinking – her eyebrow twitches for a moment, her gaze drifting over the scene before her.

“What about that Barba guy?” Roxie asks, pointing her gun between the both of them. “He called both of them, he obviously seems to give a shit –”

Your heart climbs so high in your throat you choke on it. Liv’s eyes widen at the suggestion, and thankfully speaks before you can stammer out an indication in the negative. “No. Ed Tucker. He has pull.”

You try to hide your shock, the way his name twists your lips. There’s history there, more than you know, and Liv looks to you, brow furrowing, a silent plea. Something passes, between the both of you, a mutual understanding. About what it means to be someone that either of you care about.

This is what needs to happen. To get the both of you out. The both of you safe, to those who care about you the most.

“Ed Tucker, Joe. He’ll get you what you want.”

The street outside the brownstone looks like a battleground – the armored vehicles and lights flashing on closed windows.

Rafael’s steps are quick through the organized chaos, shouts from other officers as they directed the traffic around the area filling his ears, exhaust from engines rising up into the cool air. But there’s no time to linger, catch his bearings. He can only feel lost among the uniforms and bullet-proof vests. There is only the task at hand, the thought of you pushing him to keep one foot in front of the other.

And if his hands start shaking, well, that’s what pockets are for.

He sees Dodds in the distance, the man standing half a head above any others in the area. He makes quick work of the terrain, weaving through armored bodies, and soon he’s beside the man, who greets him with a tense nod.

“Where are we?”

“Ralph Volkov. Assault, drunk driving. Fired by the Crivellos’ after two failed drug tests.” Dodds is to the point. His steps are quick, and Rafael feels like he has to take two keep up with him. They’re on a fast track to the command center, and Rafael tries to ignore the pit in his stomach.

“A revenge plan?” Rafael hisses. It’s in disbelief, in horror. All of this because of some grudge? Your life over a job as a truck driver? “Do we think he’s in charge?”

“He’s not the ringleader. Through here,” Dodds tells him, but before the sergeant can reach for the door the counselor’s voice stops his hand.

“Dodds. Where… where are we?” When he asks again, he doesn’t mean for his voice to tremble, but it’s fraught with the emotions he knows he’ll need to put away.

The sergeant takes a moment. Ducks his chin, before giving an answer. One without fluff, or pomp, or poise. Just the truth. “As far as we know, they’re both there, conscious. Okay, as of a few minutes ago,” he murmurs. “But we don’t know what okay means. They’re alive. We caught a glimpse of them, both of them, through a second-story window. Some bruising, bleeding. But… the one with the phone is hopped up on something, and. We can’t get a rapport. Not a real one.”

“But we’ve heard them?”

When Dodds glances back, it’s with a sigh. Rafael tenses. “Just Liv. Her phone is the one they’ve been using. To make the calls. But she’s told us that they’re both okay, and I trust that… she knows what she’s doing.”

Rafael’s eyes widen, just a fraction, but Dodds doesn’t see. He’s already pushing forward, into the armored truck, leaving the lawyer’s thoughts scrambled. Your voicemail message seems to sing in his head. But the spiraling has to stop, and so he forces himself forward, through the door, chin lifted and steps long.

He can see him, at the end. One of the assholes responsible for taking you, for beating you. His shoulders straighten, and that fury is used to stalk close, tilt his chin down and glare. His presence makes the man shrink, and he relishes in that pleasure.

“Hello, Ralph. I’m Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. Who’s we?”

He’s pathetic, the man in front of him. Voice a mumbled mess, clothes dirty. His hands are cuffed in front of him, and he can barely look Rafael in the eye. But he answers, slowly, blinking up at the lawyer. “Me and my sister, Roxie. We needed money, for my ma, she. She needs a new hip, she can hardly walk.

Dodds says something. Rafael’s mind is on the name. Roxie. Roxie. Roxie and Ralph, the fucking dynamic duo.

Suddenly Ralph is pushing back. “Yeah, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone either. And Joe came along. All of this was his idea, man, not ours.”

Rafael takes a seat. He’s level with this guy, and it makes him sick to his stomach. “Uh-huh.” His voice is hoarse. Bitter. “Joe’s his real name?”

The man doesn’t respond, seems to shrink back, and Rafael finds his temper flaring, his voice going sharp. His hand reaches out to snap under the man’s nose. He sits down, and the only place he’s looking is at the dumb son of a bitch in front of him. “Ralph. Look at me. Anyone dies in there, you’re on the hook for felony murder.” He doesn’t want to think about you, about your body coming out, not your life. His vision goes a little red, and he leans close with a tight tone. “You help us or you’re gone.”

That seems to get his attention, and Ralph nods, swallowing down his fear. “Joe’s his real name. Joe Utley.”

Fin moves to the laptop quickly, looking at his sergeant. Their glance is exchanged, but Rafael’s mind is fixated on the three names he has. Ralph. Roxie. Joe Utley. All of them responsible for taking you. For taking Liv. He finds himself squeezing his knee under the table, praying for a moment that the crime he prosecutes them for doesn’t have – fuck, doesn’t have murder in the damn headlines.

And then he gets a text from Carisi. His hand goes to Ralph’s phone, next to him, and the latest text shines up. The two kids, huddled together on the bed, Liv to the side, and you… sitting against the bed on the floor, looking up. There’s blood, on your forehead. Some down the side of your neck. Your eyes look glazed, dull, and all the blood drains from his face.

When he holds up the photo, he can barely speak.

“This photo.” His voice is raspy, and his hand is almost shaking. “Is this the last time you had contact with Joe and Roxie?”

Ralph confirms it, and that’s when he has to step away. He just hears a fraction of what Dodds says. It doesn’t matter. It just confirms the filth that has you captive in that fucking building. Has to pull back, take a breath. There’s a fury within him that only builds as Ralph pushes back, refuses to cooperate when you’re inside that damn townhouse –

Fin’s voice cuts through the chaos, goes straight to the point. Tucker and Dodds and Rafael watch on, as the detective leans close, scowls at the perp. “Let me ask you something, man. Do you ever want to see your sister alive again?”

Rafael swallows at that. Looks down at his phone. Can’t watch as Dodds holds up the phone to Ralph, can’t do anything but close his eyes and turn as the hand is dealt.

And then Ralph stammers. There is nothing more useless than a juris doctorate in that moment, watching as the man turns. Admits that he’s caught, that it’s done. Nothing more horrifying than the sound of Joe’s voice on the other end of the line, a furious shout of a curse before the line goes dead. And nothing more nauseating than knowing that whatever happens next, Rafael can’t do a damn thing.

“Son of a bitch!” Joe screams, and you can’t help your wince. The noise seems to rattle your brain, and when you open your eyes again the man is leaning on the fireplace.

The four of you – including Liv and the kids – had been moved downstairs as Ralph’s absence stretched longer. And no matter how much you wanted these bastards ended, you couldn’t help your prayer that Joe would just get what he wanted. Anything to keep him sane, to keep him from using one of the kids as a punching bag, or from hurting Liv.

But with Ralph out of the picture, caught by the police… you can’t help but notice the way that your chances get slimmer and slimmer. Your eyes flick toward your lieutenant, the strongest woman you know, and you can’t help but feel the doubt. Doubt that trickles down your cheek with a couple of tears, a mixture of blood and sweat joining it.

And Rafael… your throat closes up at the thought of him, swimming around in the back of your mind. Usually such a comfort, and now the guilt kills you. The knowledge that you’d – fucking hell, that you could’ve seen him for the last…

You have to physically shake your head. Enough that Liv’s hand reaches out for you.

No. You have to see him again. You have to.

Joe and Roxie are yelling now. Back and forth, back and forth, and you want to sink further into your chair but can’t get far enough away. It all bounces in your head, and everything just as you hear Joe’s voice scream into the phone.

“What?”

The silence is deafening. Joe’s ultimatum more so. And then the phone is shoved into your hands, along with a threat for your life, the gun pointed at you.

“Ralph, and the cash, or your pretty little girlfriend dies. Or what about… what about this one? This useless bitch, huh? Not much stopping me from putting a bullet in her head.”

Your energy is used to glare up at the man. You feel Liv freeze beside you as you lift your mouth to the speaker.

“He… he really wants Ralph back in here, Tucker.”

“Yeah. I, uh. Understand that. But that’s not something we can do right now.”

Your head drops. The phone and your hand drop. And Liv’s voice is next to you, soft. “He’s telling you the truth, guys. We’re not allowed to send civilians inside.”

“All right. Then I’m done talking.”

There’s a hitch to your breath at the end of Joe’s statement, and Rafael’s hands are limp at his sides. He can picture it so vividly – he knows what Joe looks like. It’s not hard to visualize him lifting a gun and aiming it at you. Barba barely notices he starts to tremble as he anticipates the sound, that one final sound.

Luckily the finality is something that Tucker doesn’t accept. And at the sound of Joe’s request to talk to Ralph.

After all, he knows what that look on Tucker’s face is trying to tell him. He sees the way the man turns to him like he understands. With Liv on the other end, perhaps that’s what he’s hoping to convey. The urgency, the knowledge that he’s doing everything he can.

Little does he know.

There’s yelling, fighting. Tucker tries to talk them down again, but Roxie and Joe on the other end of the line are going off at each other, and then there’s a clatter. The whole room seems to wince at it, and when there’s silence on the line no one can breathe.

“Everybody okay?” Tucker asks. But even when the silence breaks, the tension is still thick. Rafael feels it clawing at his throat. And Liv’s voice on the other end, shaking, makes him lift a hand to his hair.

“Okay. So we know that Ralph’s not coming in here, but do you have his money?”

The trade develops. Slowly. Too slowly, and your name doesn’t come up once. It makes Rafael’s twitch, and by the time the final deal is made, he’s had enough of it. One person. One person, and it’s not you. It’s not you.

The door is opening, and Rafael is gone before he can think. He’s pushing out of the van and starts pacing behind the command center, muttering something to himself. He’s halfway through the recitation when he realizes it’s a prayer, and almost done with it when he sees Carisi just a few feet away, making his way to where Rafael just left.

He doesn’t stop the detective from coming closer. If anything he almost welcomes it. Carisi looks almost as harried as he is, and he can’t help the way his lips twist at the familiarity of Carisi’s “counselor” in his mouth.

“How’s it goin’ in there?” For a first question, Rafael is struck by how little he can bear to answer.

“The… the father’s in bad shape. They’re organizing a trade,” he whispers, and hates the way that his voice cracks. The way he looks up at the row of townhouses and has to swallow his fear so he doesn’t vomit with it.

Suddenly Carisi’s face softens, somehow, even more. He looks at Rafael with pity. And while the counselor wants to bristle at it, he can’t.

“We’ll get them out, counselor,” the blond promises. “We’ll get Liv, and we’ll get them out –”

But when Rafael lifts his hand, it’s to silence him. To just glare, work his jaw, and try not to shatter so completely.

“It’s not just Liv,” he spits, and the admission takes even him by surprise. “It’s not. So. Please, just.”

He doesn’t know what Carisi is seeing when he looks at Rafael in that moment. He doesn’t know what the detective thinks. But no matter all of his words, his teasing, he knows that the man isn’t stupid, and can put the pieces together on a simple puzzle.

Who else is in that fucking room? Who else could the squad lose?

“I can’t lose her.” Carisi’s jaw clenches, his whole body tensing in Rafael’s periphery. But there’s no answer, because the detective isn’t stupid.

Not enough to make empty promises.

Mike’s eyes meet yours first when he comes through the door. He reassures Joe that his demands are being met – the money, the car, the goddamn plane – but he can’t stop looking at you. Maybe it’s the blood at your temple, the way your hands are gripping armrests on the chair you’re basically strapped to. Maybe it’s the dazed look in your eye that you’re sure you have, a concussion wreaking havoc on your system. But it doesn’t matter. He can’t help you.

Joe’s orders to strip had made too much sense – forcing them down to the bare essentials to come in and get the father out. But seeing it, seeing how vulnerable Mike it makes your chest hurt, and as he stands before Joe and his fucking assault rifle basically bare, you can’t help your desire to reach out to him.

“Everything is on its way,” Mike tells Joe, meeting his gaze head on – a steady lift of the chin while Joe fidgets.

And then the vests come off, too. And you have to watch Mike leave without any protection, his back so vulnerable, and you have to watch Joe’s eyes follow him, and once he leaves the breath you let out is audible. Audible enough to earn you a glare.

“What?” he snaps, and you just shake your head, offering a smile that feels like

“Nothing, Joe. That was a good thing you just did, letting Richard get the helps he needs,” you tell him.

There’s a beat, and then before you can react he’s lunging forward, his fist and thankfully not the butt of the gun smacking you across the face.

The kids scream, a horrific sound as your head is whipped to the side, eyes closed tight as you groan and try not to look at them.

“I’m – I’m okay…”

“You’re laughing,” he hisses, bending forward. “You’re fucking laughing at me.”

“Joe,” Liv says with a sharp tone. She doesn’t come to you, but her eyes are wide as your body pulls in on itself, barely able to look up and see her through the tears in your eyes. “Joe, look at me. That was good, getting Richard out of there. The car is… is coming, okay? It is, and… when it’s here we can start working on an exit strategy.”

“I have an exit strategy. For me, and for Roxie,” he snaps. His voice is hoarse from yelling, and then the phone rings again. Joe picks it up, and he’s moving from the hall to the table and back again, the end of the line approaching steadily.

“I’m gonna send someone out to check the car. I want the keys in the ignition, I want the engine running, and I want all those ESU guys gone, y’hear me? I want a clear path!” The phone is tossed away, connection gone, and then Joe’s in front of you again, bending forward, grinning. “About time to make yourself useful.”

“Joe,” Liv murmurs, trying to reach out to him, but the gun is quickly pointing at her.

“Shut up, boss lady!” he snaps. “The both of you are gonna put the vest on Roxie, and then she’s gonna go out there and check the car.”

What else can you do but comply? Joe’s release on your restraints has you stumbling forward, but when Liv goes to get you she’s pushed away by the firearm. You slowly rise to your feet, and there’s blood falling steadily from your nose as you stumble forward.

There’s no affirmation. Joe can only hiss out a curse, and then he’s stumbling away towards the back of the house.

The front of the house feels cold. By the time you make it to Roxie it feels like an eternity, and you and Liv have to get to work buckling her up. You’re so disoriented, the world spinning, that when you realize Liv is talking she’s already halfway there.

“Roxie,” she murmurs. “You can save yourself. You realize that? Right now. your brother is out there, and you don’t have to die. All you have to do is drop to your knees and put your hands up.”

Your hands are finally free. It feels good being able to roll your wrists, but you can barely focus as you realize you’re looking up into Roxie’s eyes. Your brain stumbles through its recollection, and when you do manage to speak it’s small. Soft. So Joe can’t hear.

“Save yourself, and your brother, Roxie, okay?” you whisper. “Get out of here. For him, you understand.”

“Just – just shut up,” she snaps, and Liv buckles her in.

It’s torture watching her leave. Joe’s back now, and the phone is at his hear, while Liv’s at the window, watching. But the light from outside makes your head spin. All you can do is stumble back to a chair, count to ten, and try not to cry.

You wish you had a hand on your back right now. Someone rubbing small circles into your skin. You can hear his voice, Rafael’s, in your ear, low hums as the two of you relax on the couch…

No.

You blink a few times. You can hear Roxie’s voice over the phone. Her sharp gasp, the long pause. You hear Rafael, then, too, urging you onto your feet, urging your mind to come together for just a bit longer…

No. He’s not – he’s not there. He’s outside. He’s not on the phone, he’s not on a couch, he’s outside and waiting and you’re stuck in here. It makes you want to scream, and your fingers lift to curl in your hair.

And then Carisi’s voice filters in over the phone.

“Hey, hold up, she’s surrendering. We got her!”

Something in Joe seems to snap at that moment. His eyes are wild, the assault rifle draped over his body, and when he lifts to gun to direct it between you and Liv.

“We’re almost there,” Liv tries to tell him. But you know she’s telling you, too. You try to nod, but there’s a flash of light as you struggle to stay conscious.

We’re almost there, Rafael whispers in your head, his little smirk so clear.

Okay, Rafa. Okay.

“It’s your terms,” Liv’s saying. “You tell Tucker how to do this… we’re so close to getting out of here.” Even as your head hangs you can’t help your smile. That’s your lieutenant. That’s Olivia fucking Benson. Allying herself. Protecting you. Your everything aches and she knows it and she’s still there.

The phone rings. Tucker’s voice filters over all of you.

“Now I’m gonna need something. The kids, Joe, okay?”

But Joe’s ready. Joe’s fired up, thanks to Liv. She’s there with him, she almost smiles at him, as he ends the negotiations. He’s ready to get out of there, he’s ready to live.

She’s got him, you think. She’s got him, right where she wants him.

“Joe, we kept our side,” Tucker says. “We’ll need at least one kid.”

“Fine,” he snaps. “You get the boy. When I get into the car you get the boy.” And then his smile goes rancid, evil, cruel.

“But I’m keeping my girls.”

Rafael’s leg can’t stop bouncing. He’s made his way back inside the command center, and the hustle and bustle never stops. People are in, people are out, and all he can think about is you. All he can hear is your voice is his ear, all he can focus on is getting you out safe.

Which sucks, because he can’t do a damn thing about it.

He shouldn’t even be here. He should be home. He should be home but he hasn’t been able to move since he made it to this chair.

His fingers go to your tie. It’s around his neck, but it’s yours. One you bought for him, the burgundy something you said brought out his eyes. You’d handed it over with a wink, at the end of a day that’d had you both in the office for longer than you strictly should’ve been.

Just for you, you’d said. It was basically calling your name.

God, what’d he give to hear you calling his name.

He doesn’t have an earpiece in his ear. So he doesn’t know why the cops all around him suddenly tense up, he doesn’t know why they file out of the command center and start loading their guns. What he does know is when Dodds peeks in, Carisi’s eyes visible behind him through the doorway.

“Barba,” the sergeant barks out. “They’re coming out. Stay down and stay behind, Joe is coming out –”

Rafael’s throat closes up. “With who?” he asks, but Dodds is already gone. Carisi peeks in.

“All of them, Rafael,” he says. “Liv, the kids, and –”

Rafael doesn’t need to hear your name. He’s already up. He’s led by Carisi to a vest, he’s led by Carisi to a spot behind the line of armed officers, and all he can do is watch as everyone watches the doors.

“They’re coming out by the garden level!” someone yells, and guns are aiming before Rafael can think.

He sees you first. It’s not hard to miss you. Your hair is whipping around your head a little from the wind, and there’s...

“That’s blood,” he whispers to himself. “God, that’s blood.” It’s dripping down your face, or it was – from your nose, all over your face and mouth.

“Barba,” Carisi whispers back, and that’s when he sees the gun.

No! his brain screams. His body is motionless. The gun is against your head, and you’re walking, no, stumbling forward ahead of him.

He sees your lips moving. You’re talking to Joe – Joe, surrounded by you, and Liv, and the kids. Your hands are up.

Joe starts yelling. “Farther back! Get farther back!”

“Get back,” Carisi says, and he shouts it a little louder for the group. Everyone starts backing up. Everyone does, and Rafael watches as the four of you creep towards the car. Liv is talking now. She’s right in his ear.

And then the kids get let go. He seems a small smile play across your face, as Joe looks back at Liv.

“He’s letting both kids go!” Dodds shouts. Someone rushes up to meet them, carries them away, and Rafael watches as Joe is flanked by you, by Liv. The kids are rushed away, and the breath Rafael can take after that is minimal. It’s minimal and you’ve still got a gun to your head.

There’s talking. There’s more talking. The car is only inches away.

And then your elbow swings.

“Joe,” you whisper. “Keep the gun to my head.”

You feel the pressure against the back of your head. Right against the bruise from this morning. “Good, Joe. We’ll keep pushing forward, okay. I’m gonna keep my hands up, and you…”

“Shut up.”

Your mouth closes tightly. The inching forward is tedious, but you creep with every step. And then Liv starts talking.

“You don’t need the kids, Joe,” Liv whispers. “You don’t need them. Let them go, all right? It’s just about you and us, no one else.”

And then they’re gone. The kids. They dart away, and your eyes close tightly, the smile on your face momentary. One step closer. You can almost hear Rafael still. Almost there.

You feel Liv’s foot tap against yours as the group of you come to a halt. And when your eyes meet hers you can’t help what happens next.

There’s a mutual understanding. One that the two of you come to, in that moment, surrounding Joe, protecting him. His voice is still in your ear, but it doesn’t matter, in that moment. In that moment, it’s just you and Liv, and you see her eyes flick to Joe’s head before glancing down to your elbow.

“Get in,” Joe snaps, and you nod.

You know what she’s asking of you. You what she’s begging for. Safety for the kids, for the parents, for the nightmare to end.

“I will, Joe. I’m just gonna tell Tucker the plan.”

And you know that while she thinks of Noah one last time, steeling up her courage as the two of you shuffle towards the car, that you think of Rafael Barba.

“Get in!” he shouts, and you swallow tight.

Three fingertips against your hand give one tap.

“I’m just gonna tell –“

Two fingertips.

“Get in the damn car, you bitch!”

One finger, one more second.

His gun lifts from your head.

One smile staring up at you from his contact photo, one kiss that he gives with his hand tangled into the hairs on the back of your neck –

Go.

You throw an elbow, and Liv throws herself to the side while you drop. You hear the command, the gunshot, and everything stops as it rings in the air.

And then Joe’s body crumples. There’s a thud as it hits the ground. and you wait for the other shoe to drop. Liv’s own body falling, a new radiating pain in your side. But there’s nothing. Fucking nothing. It’s over.

“He’s got a gun,” you murmur, but it’s so quiet it’s just to yourself. You can’t speak up louder, the sound of the shot that killed him ricocheting in your head, rattling around until your eyes cross and you can’t think.

The yelling of the officers around you can’t stir you from your daze. Nothing seems like it can. You’re holding your hands over your ears to try and quiet what you can, your eyes wide as you stare at Joe’s dead body. And then it hits you, all at once. Like a fucking tidal wave.

It’s done. You’re free. And as you turn towards the crowds around you, shaky legs and a migraine making you stumble, one name is on your lips.

“Rafael?”

It starts out small. Low. Quiet. You can hear Liv next to you, calling out for Noah and people start crowding before you can think.

“Rafael?”

Another time. Louder, fiercer. You can’t see him, but you need to. You know he’s here, he has to be. Your throat almost can’t push the sound out, but it goes, fierce and brave.

“Rafael!”

And then you see him. There. You see him, you see the bright purple tie, the way he’s turning any way he can to find out where your voice is coming from. It’s almost comical, and you start laughing, a lot hysterical at the same time tears start coming down your cheeks.

Laugh. Cry. Same thing. It doesn’t fucking matter. The next thing you know you’re pushing towards him, and it takes one more turn for him to see you, to start moving through the crowd. You throw your arms around him as he does the same to you, and everything inside of you seems to fall apart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over again. “Lo siento, mi amor, lo siento, estoy aqui.” But his apologies mean nothing more than just hearing the sound of his voice, pressing your lips to his mouth and neck and shoulder as you press as close as you can, hug as tight as you can, hide as much as you fucking can.

“I – I was so sc-scared,” you sob out, and that’s when your legs give out. Rafael has to try and catch you, and almost can’t, the way you go dead weight on him. But there’s nothing left to give, no more strength, and in the end he holds you as the medics rush you.

Liv’s voice fades in behind you. “I’m fine, go to her, I’m fine. Where’s Noah?” Tucker’s voice is trying to assure her that they’re getting him, that he’s coming, but then everything fades out again.

You’re so tired. God, you’re so fucking tired.

Your head hurts so bad.

Shit.

“Rafa,” you whimper out, and his shushes are gentle, one of his hand lifting to shakily push through your hair. There are other bodies around the both of you, and you try not to think about how when his hand pulls away you can see your own blood on it. Blood. Like your nose.

“Cariño,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“Got… hit. In the head,” you whisper, and that’s when everything goes black.

You wake up in the hospital. You wake up, and things are still a little fuzzy, but you wake up at all, and that’s a minor miracle. You could’ve slept for another week, you think, if the way your head is pounding tells you anything.

“Fuck,” you hiss immediately, when everything hits you all at once. The lights, the beeping, the feeling of your body, somehow weightless and heavy as hell at the same time.

“They wouldn’t let me in.”

You have to blink. The lights are still too bright, and the voice almost doesn’t sound like it’s coming from in the room. After all, Rafael’s voice was in your head throughout the last few hours of that damn mess.

Right. The townhouse.

You blink again. Rafael is sitting next to you. His eyes are on you, and he’s leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

You try not to think about the way his sleeves are rolled up, the way he looks like he hasn’t slept. There’s a bit of stubble on his face, and you want to reach out and touch it – he’s never not clean-shaven.

“What’d you say?” you murmur. Your mouth feels like cotton.

“They took you away,” he whispers, and reaches out to grab your hand. “They took you away, out there, and… they didn’t let me in because I’m not family.”

Everything slowly comes back in.

“You’re here now,” you whisper, and he shakes his head.

“I wasn’t. Not the whole time you were... I wasn’t.”

“You were... you. You were.”

You struggle to sit up, but there’s oxygen in your nose and you can’t pull at it. You’re so weak, and everything, everything hurts. But. But the kids, Liv –

“They’re okay.” That’s when you realize that you were talking out loud, and Rafael reaches up to brush your hair back. Leans forward to kiss your forehead. “They’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Rafael.”

“The squad didn’t know. No one knew. So no one could vouch… no one knew, when your name was on there, too, with Liv, with... fuck, William Lewis...”

You’re blinking. You’re blinking a lot. Something is prickling at the corners of your eyes, and you let the tears fall. “Rafael. I’m here. I’m…”

He leans up to kiss your forehead again, and you realize he’s crying, too. You can feel something wet against your skin, and he’s holding you so close.

“You almost weren’t, and. They know now,” he whispers. “I told them. If anything ever happens, I – I need to be in here first.”

You don’t have time to process, and frankly, you don’t want to. Because Rafael is here, in your room, holding you gently, and you hear his voice in your ear just like you did earlier. You hear his little murmured prayers against your head, thanks to God, in Spanish right at your collarbone.

You didn’t tell anyone because it was safer. You didn’t tell anyone because it was easier. You didn’t tell anyone, and it still ended with you in a hospital bed.

He told them. And you can’t help but… but feel grateful.

No more uncertainty. No more secrets. No more, if it means that he gets there just a little bit earlier. If it means you know that he’ll be there.

“If anything ever happens to you,” you mutter back, “you best believe I’m beating down the doors. Family or not.”

It’s slurred, your words. Things are getting a little fuzzy, again. You think it’s something about the medicine that’s dripping into your arm. It doesn’t matter. Rafael’s holding you so tight.

“Of that I have no doubt, cariño. Now get some rest for me.”

tag list - @writefasttalkevenfaster // @hurricanejjareau // @crazyshannonigans // @goldenxreid // @teamhappyme // @chasingeverybreakingwave

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #female!reader #olivia benson #law and order: svu #my fic #tw blood #tw guns #tw rape #tw rape mention #canon-typical violence #hostage situation

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

62. you set off the fire alarm and I have a test tomorrow, and I might strangle you

Sternclay, sfw, please!

Why do fire alarms only go off in March? The one time Stern set one off (he fell asleep studying and the dinner he was reheating started smoking) it was in that endless stretch of time where the snow is no longer festive but will keep falling for at least two more months.

More importantly, who is responsible for interrupting his carefully planned out six hours of sleep before his midterm at eight this morning?

He stands in the freezing cold with the building’s other three occupants; the single man who looks like he stars in lumberjack porn and the girlfriends who live on the ground floor.

“Sorry” The other man mumbles, “I was making doughnuts and the oil I was using got too hot without me noticing.”

Stern runs a hand through his hair and keeps his voice low, “Why were you cooking with hot oil at three in the morning?”

“When I can’t sleep, I bake.”

“Can I suggest a less flammable hobby in the future?”

“Hey man, it was an accident. And it’s not my fault they stuck the fire alarm too high up for me to get to it before it called the fire department.”

“Too high? You’re taller than I am and I can reach mine.”

“My ceilings are higher and it was tucked between the cabinets and the roof.”

“Oh yeah, ours is in a super-weird place too.” Aubrey, one of the ground-floor neighbors, pats the offenders arm, “it’s okay Barclay, it’s just a little smoke.”

“That may be the case for you three, but I have an exam that’s worth thirty percent of my grade in six hours and I need my goddamn sleep.”

“Yeesh, man, chill out. They’re already waving us back in.” Aubrey points to the door of the three story house.

“I timed everything to optimize my sleep schedule so it actually is a big deal.”

Barclay glowers at him, “Look, I said sorry. But maybe get used to the fact the world doesn’t run on your schedule, mr. control freak, and fucking get over it.”

Stern keeps a smile flat as he bites out, “go to hell” and heads upstairs to salvage what’s left of his schedule.

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

The crash from downstairs comes at nine p.m; he has a huge day at his internship tomorrow, but Stern doesn’t hear any sounds after it, and he is not about to let a neighbor die on his watch.

“Barclay? Are you okay?” He puts his ear to the door, the heater drowning out all ambient noise.

“Nope, not really, agh, fuck, the doors locked, lemme try to stand-”

“Stay put.” He runs upstairs, grabs his wallet, and uses his debit card to trick the lock, “Shit, what happened?”

Barclay is clutching his forehead, blood between his fingers, and his ankle is swelling. “I got really dizzy, caught my foot on the couch and then my forehead on the table on the way down. Ow, fuck, it better not be broken” he growls as Stern kneels to look at his foot, “I’ve got a shift in six hours.”

“I can’t tell. You should get to a hospital; if it’s injured and you try to work on it, you might have an even worse fall.”

“Fuck, I’m not even sure I can afford the ambulance, let alone the fucking E.R.”

He knows Dani and Aubrey are out, “Any family in town, or a boyfriend?”

“No, if there I woulda called them.” He snaps, then tries for a slow inhale, “sorry, it just, it hurts-”

“I can take you in my car, that’ll be one less worry.” Stern helps Barclay up, gets him to his sedan, then tells him to hold tight while he gets something for his head. He ends up grabbing the first clean fabris he finds, which is how Barclay ends up in the E.R while holding a “Roswell, NM” tank-top to his forehead.

“Sorry to ruin your, uh, souvenir?” He mumbles as they wait for the doctor.

“It’s for a good cause. Besides, I know how to get bloodstains out of fabric.”

“That...that makes you sound like a serial killer.”

“If I were a serial killer I would wear things that could stain.” Stern winces, “sorry, I read too many true crime books.”

“I just don’t have the stomach for them. I like fictional mysteries but real ones?” he shivers, “makes me think an axe murderer is gonna break into my place. I mean, you did it with a credit card.”

“If you’d had the chain thrown it might have been another story. “

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Barclay shifts in the plastic seat, “you, uh, you don’t have to hang around. Know you got a rigid schedule.”

Joseph runs a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry for being so annoyed last week when you set off the alarm. I’m not always great at handling changes.”

“To be fair, doughnuts probably weren’t the best stress baking choice.”

“Did they turn out?”

“Nah. I’ll have to try ‘em another time. Did, uh, did your test go okay?”

“Yes. I, um, I got a perfect score.”

Barclay laughs, the sound like warm honey, and Stern blushes at looking so deeply nerdy in front of someone with a smile like that.

“Mr. Cobb? We’re ready to see you.”

The bearded man gives an slightly awkward wave as he follows the nurse through the double doors. Stern returns the gesture, pulls up the chess app on his phone, and settles in to wait until his neighbor is done.

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

Barclay comes out his nap the scrchh of a brush on tile. His first thought is that he’s so late for work he’s unavoidably fucked. His second one is who the fuck is in his bathroom?

His ankle twinges, jogging his memory; he got back from the hospital at 11:30, no stitches needed on his head but bedrest required for his ankle. He’d been contemplating how to convince his manager to let him shift from the warehouse to somewhere he could sit. Joseph raised an eyebrow and asked for his phone while telling him to go get into bed. All Barclay overheard was a polite, steely voice mentioning the labor laws in Dane County and how it’d be a shame if someone were to arrange an OSHA spot check. The last thing he recalls before falling asleep was Joseph telling him he had the next day off.

That doesn’t explain the cleaning sounds, though.

“Oh, you’re up.” Joseph pokes his head in from the hall. His hair is coming loose from his usual slicked-down style and he’s in a V-neck and sweatpants instead of the suit Barclay sees him in most days, “I hope I didn’t wake you; since you gave me the spare key I thought I’d check on you when I got back from my internship and leave you some take-out from the Thai place around the corner--you said the green curry was your favorite--but then I thought I should wait until you got up to see if you needed anything, so I, um, I cleaned your tub while I waited for you to wake up.”

Barclay isn’t sure what part of that is the most baffling. Or the most touching.

“Why the tub?” He eases his legs over so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“It’s satisfying. And I, um, I clean when I’m stressed.” He wipes his hands on the rag in his front pocket, “I was worried about you, and my internship was murder today. They’re mounting a case against one of the biggest employers in the state and everyone’s on edge.”

“Heh, kinda makes me glad I work at WalMart.” Barclay takes the crutch Joseph offers him and hobbles into the kitchen, “oh, uh, if you want to try some cake, there’s leftover cinnamon spice cake in the fridge.”

“I think I will, thank you.” He bends into the fridge and wow has his ass always been that nice, “can I grab you a drink from in here?”

“One of those pre-bottled Kahlua things in the door; have ‘em for a friend but one sounds good right now.” He watches Joseph open it for him, setting it down before he pulls out Barclay’s chair for him. Normally, the kind of fussing and light ordering around Joseph has directed at him makes him bristle. This last day, it just made him feel safe and cared about.

He could get used to this.

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

“Good lord, we’ve even got a flood warning.” Joseph sets down his phone as rain attempts to pummel the house to dust, “Some days I wish we lived closer to one of the lakes but this is not one of them. Should we check to see if Dani and Aubrey need any emergency supplies for if we have to shelter here? I always keep more than I need.”

“Nah, Dani’s got a strong self-sufficiency streak; got her a bucket emergency kit for Christmas last year.” Barclay pops the cork on the Pinot Grigio they got for dinner, “and I don’t think they forgot your semi-drunk promise that if they ever had to run from a flood they had full permission to break open your front door to be safe on the third floor.”

“I meant it, drunk or no.” Joseph takes down the plates and portions out the carbonara; he’s been trying to cook when he has time, both because he likes it and because it gives him and Barclay something to talk about. Not that they need the help.

Things changed after the trip to the E.R; Barclay would bring Joseph fresh cookies or pie. Joseph would offer Barclay rides when their schedules overlapped. Barclay introduced him to his favorite trivia night spot. Joseph took some of his cookies to a worker-owned bakery where a former co-student worked, which led to Barclay getting a new job.

Now they see each other almost every day, whether that’s watching movies on Barclay’s cramped couch or joining Dani and Aubrey for board game night.

He’s pleased with how the pasta turned out, even more so with the fact that when their legs bump together beneath the table, Barclay doesn’t pull away.

They’re on the couch, chatting about the recurring themes in ghost movies, when the storm starts in earnest. The sky is so dark it may as well be nine at night, the lighting and thunder performing a cacophonous two-man show across it. The closer the thunder gets, the more Barclay tenses.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah” a thunderclap makes him jump, “I know it’s silly but I fucking hate thunderstorms, I have since I was a kid.” He chuckles, “my mom would always end up making a pillow fort for me to hide in.”

“We could do that now.” He offers, tapping his foot against Barclay’s own.

“Know this might be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always six-two.” The other man teases.

“Don’t count me out just yet. Wait here.”

It takes some precarity and most of his thumb-tacks, but soon he’s waving Barclay to come join him.

“Holy shit” Barclay laughs as he sees the bed and part of the floor in Joseph’s tiny bedroom are curtained in blankets, “do you ever half-ass stuff?”

“No one can ever prove I haven’t.”

“Uh huh.” Barclay climbs into the fort, “that’s Joseph speak for ‘no.’”

Joseph plugs in his UFO lights and follows him in, “I’ve failed plenty of times.”

“Not on this. Man, this is gr-” A thunderclap makes him jump, nearly knocking one blanket down, “uh, maybe if I…” He lays on the bed, Joseph deciding it’s the least awkward option to join him in that position.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” The green of the lights add a charming tint to Barclay’s eyes.

“I wanted to.”

His friend looks away, keeps his gaze on his feet as he murmurs, “How come you’re always so nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“It’s, uh, it’s not because you want something from me?”

“Of course not. Barclay,” he touches the cooks arm, “anything you’re thinking is a favor with an ulterior motive....well, it isn’t. It’s something I did to look out for you.”

“What if I, uh, I didn’t think it was favor hunting and was, uh, a different word that started with “F’?”

This time, when the thunder sounds, Barclay nestles closer to him.

“Oh, Barclay” he drapes a protective arm over his waists, “I didn’t mean it to be. At least, most of the time. There were, um, sometimes when I was more flirtatious than I’d have been if it were anybody else.”

“Do you...want to flirt more?” Barclay mumbles into his shoulder.

Joseph tips Barclay’s chin with his hand, brings their lips together as lightning flashes through the window. When he pulls back, Barclay’s eyes are wide. He kisses him once more just to see if he can make them entirely pupil, then whispers, “I hope we can do more than just flirt.”

“Joseph” strong arms slip below and across him, “fuck, babe, if it’s not flooded tomorrow, promise you’ll let me take you out tomorrow?”

“I’d like nothing better, big guy. In the meantime..” he rolls so Barclay is atop him, “I have some thoughts on how to keep your mind off the storm.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #taz amnesty

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kareniliana · 4 years

Text

Marcel: Crazy Ex Drama

A//N: Hey people! I’ve come up with a schedule. I will write as much as I can over the week. In between class work or classes and tutor sessions. Then edit and post them on the weekends. Imma try this week to do that. And we’ll go from there.

If y'all want to request anything, my inbox is open.

Oh I almost forgot, this one shot mentions abusive relations with drug using and cheating. I am in no way trying to romanticize abuse or anything. I just started writing and this came out. I do apologize if I insult anyone, please call me out on it. And I will correct it or take it down. I truly mean no harm here.

xx Karebear 💛🧸

You were visiting New Orleans for a girls trip with two of your best friends, Eva and Lucy. You went college with them, lived with them when you first graduated and now you live hours away from each other. Not seeing each other often put a strain on your friendship so you came up with the brilliant idea that you would visit New Orleans for a girls trip. It’s perfect, you’ll drink your liver away.

The first two nights visiting were a blur, you weren’t sure which bars you were at and which you hadn’t visited yet. But for the third day, you were going to keep it low-key but fun.

At lunch, you and your friends sat at a bar talking to a nice blonde bartender. She informed you she had a psych degree and your friends didn’t stop bothering her until y'all left. But she enjoyed the company and psychoanalyzing. You however was busy making eyes with a beautiful chocolate man across the restaurant. His smile caught your eyes, it was genuine and brightening.

Finally she turned to look at you, “what about you? Any guy problems?”

“Oh does she ever, she just got out of a very abusive relationship.” Your drunk friend started, earning a deep sigh from you.

“He cheated, lied, did drugs, verbally abuse me and sometimes he would hit me. I left him, filed a restraining order- I got out.” You shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

You stuck around to drink and chill, the vibe in this bar was immaculate. You had forced yourself, to stop looking for the man. Wanting him to come to your, which he did. He placed his hand on the seat next to yours.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked, his deep voice made you want to melt.

“No, go for it.” You smiled, he pulled the seat out sitting with you.

“Cami, can I get another and,” He looked to you, “Anything she wants.”

You caught his gaze, holding eye contact. “Uh, I'll have what he's having.”

“Alright, two bourbons.” She grabs another glass and serves you the liquid. Your friends and cami seeing what’s happening.

“I’m Marcel.” He handed his hand out for you to shake, you smiled gently placing your hand in his.

“Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, and on behalf of my beautiful city, welcome to New Orleans. I am more than happy to show you around. Say tonight, at 7. I can meet you or pick you up, whatever you choose.” He was smooth.

Cami placed the cups down in front of you both,“You can pick me up at the Hotel just down the street.” You pointed down the road to your hotel, the only hotel within a mile radius.

“Alright.” He smiled brightly, his smile making you almost giggle like a school girl.

He lifted his drink, signally for you to follow suit. He raised his glass, waiting for you. You clashed your drinks together, taking a sip.

“Tell me, why New Orleans?”Marcel asked as you both set the drinks down.

“Oh well, I hadn’t seen my best friends, Eva and Lucy,” You motioned to the girls,”In maybe 8 months. We had spent nearly five years living together.”

Eva leaned over, “Now we’re all hours away from each other, we don’t get much time to visit.”

“It’s mandatory for us to go on a girls trip at least every month.” You added, taking another sip, knowing Lucy will butt in next. Marcel just watching the vibe between you three, he thought it looked like the human way of a family. Which you were, Eva and Lucy are your family.

“But someone” Lucy points to you behind your head, “got into a - Okay! I think that’s enough from you two.” You interrupted her, you were okay talking to women about your abusive relationship, but when it came to telling men- let alone someone you just met and are interested in- you weren’t comfortable yet. And you didn’t want your friend to unload that kind of baggage.

However, Marcel already knows. You have no knowledge of the supernaturals in the world, you didn’t know that Marcel already heard you talk about it. He heard your heartbeat rise when Lucy began to talk about it. You were nervous, which he understood. And he couldn’t help but want you more. He wanted to protect you.

“Okay fine, we’ll just see you back at the hotel later. We’re gonna go find something to do.” Eva gathered herself and Lucy, who seemed to be pretty drunk already.

Saying their goodbyes and your focus was back to the present.

Marcel placed his hand on yours, You looked to him. “Whatever Lucy was going on about, I don’t want you to worry about it. Whatever it is, you can tell me or not. I understand.”

You smiled, you could see it in his face. You knew he knew.“Thank you, but something tells me you already know?”

He sighed, “I’m only guessing it wasn’t something good.”

“He was abusive, a cheater, and an addict. I thought I could change him, help him. He was good, until he wasn’t. But I did all the steps. I documented, went to friends and police. I got a restraining order, I moved, got a new job, a place all by myself. I’m doing better now, that’s what is important.” You explained, feeling accomplished and grateful you were able to get out.

You were proud of yourself and made progress moving on from everything.

Behind you, in a corner, a vampire calls Marcel away. Marcel signally to give him a minute.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n. Thats good! How about another drink?” You nodded, as he signaled for Cami.

“I’m sorry but will you excuse me for a second, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom for a quick second. Don’t go anywhere just yet, okay?” He asked, getting up his seat.

“Oh yeah no, go for it.” You smiled and his hand brushed your shoulder.

Cami comes back with your refill, “Im sorry I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I’m really happy you’re in a good place right now.”

“Oh no it’s okay, you basically already knew. Minor details. Thank you.”

“Y’know Marcel is a really great guy,” She began to make a drink for someone across the bar. “He looks out for the tourists and locals, keeps them safe.”

“So this city, is his or?” Cami laughs, if only you knew.

“He’s very influential here, stick with him. You’ll be safe.” Cami walks off, serving the drink she just made.

You look at the menu for desserts, sipping your bourbon. Then Marcel comes back, sitting down without a word.

“Is the pie any good Marcel-” You turn to look to Marcel but see Jason instead. Instantly you sprung up to your feet, pushing your stool back. Jason reached out for your arm, squeezing it harder than he thought he would.

The sound of the stool being pushed caught Cami’s attention, watching from the end of the bar. Seeing the disgust for him on your face, your body language stiff but grounded and unwavering.

Just as she was about to go to you, Marcel walked back in from the back. Vampire drama dealt with. “Cami, what’s up?”

“I think that's her ex.” Cami’s eyes never leaving you.

Jason grabbed you, keeping you there.”Wait, please just hear me out.”

You looked at his hand squeezing you, it began to hurt. “Let. Me. Go.” Looking back up at him, his eyes red teary. He was high.

He scoffed, “No, just hear me out.”

“I have a restraining order dude! Let me go!” You raised your voice, catching Marcels attention. Swiftly he walked to you two.

“I do believe she told you to let her go.” Marcel intervened, one hand placed gently on your back.

“This doesn’t concern you!” He belted at Marcel, digging his fingers deeper. you helped in pain. Marcel took a hold of Jasons hand, squeezing it with his vampire strength. Jasons claws unlatched from you, it will definitely bruise.

“I called the cops, Marcel.” Cami came to you with an ice pack.

Marcel then tried to escort Jason outside but Jason began to fight back. Falling back and into other people on the way out. When finally Marcel sucker punched him, knocking hims unconscious.

After the police took my statement and pictures of the already bruised arm, they arrested him and took him to county jail.

Marcel sits in the seat the officer was in, placing two cups of bourbon. “I called your friends, they should be here any minute. I’m so sorry that happened. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you. Really.” You smiled, chuckling after a moment of silence. “We just met and we had a crazy ex boyfriend situation before our first date!”

Marcel laughed with you. He smiled at you brightly, somehow making you smile just as big. You reach for his hand, holding it.

“I still expect yo take you out, no crazy ex drama will get in the way of our date.” Marcel said, earning a laugh from you.

Again I mean no harm with this imagine.

#marcel gerard #marcellus gerard #marcel gerard x reader #the originals #the originals x reader #the originals imagine #tvd universe

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mearcatsreturns · 3 years

Note

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“[email protected]”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“[email protected]”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

#er #nbc er #er ff #luby #luby ff #abby lockhart #luka kovac #<3 #my fanfic

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hotshotsxyz · 4 years

Text

Stay Awhile

Happy holidays to @not-the-same-url-i-used-to-be, for the @destielsecretsanta2020 gift exchange! I hope you like this mess of pure found family fluff!

(Read it on AO3)

Family dinners are kind of a big deal. It's hard to get everyone together these days, so when every single one of them RSVP's yes, it's huge. And they're running late.

"Dammit," Dean says, glancing at the traffic map Cas has pulled up on his phone. They're on I-80 just outside of Cheyenne, stuck in stop-and-go traffic that doesn't seem like it'll be letting up any time soon. They're coming from San Francisco, or thereabouts, and on their third day of driving.

Once upon a time, Dean would've just pushed through, making the 22-hour drive on 3 hours of sleep, coffee and a little bit of hope. These days, though, he and Cas like to take it slow, to stop and smell the roses as it were.

That's what they do now. Two years down the line, and they don't hunt unless some other hunter desperately needs their help. Instead, for the first time in Dean's life, they've been travelling just for the hell of it. Most recently they'd been in wine country, because Cas was curious and Dean had forgotten how to say no a long time ago. They have at least 16 different bottles in the trunk, all of which they're planning on sharing, if they ever make it to Lebanon.

"Sam's gonna kill us," Dean groans.

Cas pats him on the thigh. "He'll kill you," he replies. "I said we should've left Saturday, but you wanted to stick around for the county fair."

"It was twelve bucks and they had a pie eating competition!"

"Yes, dear," Cas says, fake exasperation lacing his tone.

"Fuck you," Dean replies, but he can't stop the laugh that bubbles out from his chest.

Cas shakes his head with a smile. "There's an exit coming up in half a mile, let's see if we can't find a better way home."

Dean grins. "Anything you say, sweetheart."

All said and done, they're only forty-five minutes late. Sam's still going to bitch, but frankly Dean considers it a miracle of navigation and ever-so-slightly reckless driving.

"Grab the wine and I'll get our bags out of the trunk," Dean says.

The sounds of laughter and plates clinking floats out as soon as they open the door to the bunker, and Dean can feel a grin settling on his face already as he pauses to take it all in. He loves this, more than just about anything he's ever had. Cas nudges his shoulder and nods towards the open door.

"Don't you think we've kept them waiting long enough already?"

"Yeah," Dean says, and they head in.

"It's about time!" Sam calls when he spot's them. He stands and strides over to them.

Dean drops his and Cas's bags in preparation for the bear hug he knows he's going to get. Ever since he and Cas started heading out on their own, Sam acts like he hasn’t seen them in years.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean says, accepting the embrace and clapping Sam on the back. "You should've seen the traffic."

"We all know it wasn't traffic that kept you in California an extra day," Sam teases.

Dean shoots a look at Cas. Traitor, he thinks. Cas's grin widens, and for a moment it's almost like he can hear Dean's thoughts again. But no, Cas just knows him that well.

"Alright," Jodie says, stepping up behind Sam, "give the rest of us a turn."

Dean and Cas pass out hugs like party favors, making sure to spend a moment with everyone in the room. Cas lingers for a few minutes with Jack, and while he does Dean steps into the kitchen to make them both a plate of food.

It's been too damn long.

After a few minutes, Cas joins him in the kitchen and presses a short kiss against the shell of his ear.

"It's good to see everyone," Cas murmurs, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist.

Dean turns in the embrace and deposits a lingering kiss against Cas's lips. "It is," he agrees.

There's something that Dean has been turning over in his head for a few weeks, and he figures now is as good a time as any to finally spit it out. "What if we stayed put for a while?" He searches Cas's face for any sign of distress, but the soft smile he's been wearing all night remains.

"Here in the bunker?" Cas asks, tilting his head in that oh so familiar way.

"We could," Dean says.

"But?"

"But…" And this is the part he's nervous about. There's a lot they've hashed out over the years, and Dean knows that Cas wants to be with him. He knows that he's happy as a human, knows that they're happy together. But there's something different about asking him for this. "I was thinking we could get a house. Something that's just ours. Still nearby, so we could be close to everybody. What do you think?" Dean bites his lip.

Cas's smile expands into a broad grin. "I would like nothing more than to 'settle down' with you, Dean Winchester."

"Awesome," Dean sighs and kisses Cas again.

They rejoin the party after that and are pulled quickly in opposite directions. Donna tells Dean about her (very, very hot) new boyfriend while Cas is regaled with Claire and Kaia's latest hunting adventure. He finds Charlie and Stevie talking to Patience about her college classes (and finds out that she's doing psychic consulting out of her dorm room). Garth and Alex are discussing the challenges of treating monsters and hunters in underground clinics. Bobby is talking to Jack about metaphysics (and damn, when did Bobby have time to do so much reading on the subject?), and Sam and Eileen are bent over some witch-y looking book with Rowena.

His family, Dean thinks. The hunters, the werewolves, the Queen of Hell, God himself, a couple college kids, and an ex-angel. It doesn't get much better than this.

The party goes late into the night, and when it's over everyone crashes at the bunker. These days, it functions as a stopover for hunters from all around the country. Sam and Eileen are slowly expanding their reach, giving hunters everywhere access to the enormous cache of knowledge contained within the bunker's walls. It feels so full of life, like it was always meant to be. They all sleep easy.

Dean wakes up smiling. It's not like this everyday, but it's happening more all the time. Something about sleeping in Cas's arms, waking up in them, it keeps the nightmares at bay. Most of them, anyway.

Dean brushes a lock of hair away from Cas's face. It's gotten longer recently and it's nice. He places a soft kiss on Cas's brow.

"I'm gonna make breakfast," he says softly. "Want to help?"

Cas groans and presses his face into Dean's shoulder. "Too early," he mumbles.

Dean chuckles. "Alright, sweetheart," he says. He rolls onto his back, carefully dislodging Cas, then gets up.

Without opening his eyes, Cas whines and makes grabby hands at Dean. Dean catches one of Cas's hands in his own. "I'll make coffee," he promises, then presses a kiss into Cas's knuckles.

"Promise?" Cas says.

"Anything for you, sunshine," Dean replies.

To his surprise, Dean isn't alone when he walks into the kitchen. Claire sits at the table, eyes closed and a steaming mug held in both hands.

"Hey kid," Dean says, clearing his throat.

Claire hums in acknowledgement, takes a sip of her coffee, then opens her eyes. "You two look happy," she says, apropos of nothing.

"I- uh, yeah. We are," Dean replies.

"M'glad," Claire says. "You both deserve it."

"We're thinking about getting a house," Dean confides in her. "Haven't even told Sam yet."

She smiles at that. "I'm happy for you," she says.

"You know, if you ever wanted to get out of the life-"

"Nah, me and Kaia have everything we need. I wouldn't say no to an invitation to visit, though."

Dean grins. "You'll be first on our list."

They fall into comfortable silence for several minutes, as Dean pulls out enough ingredients to feed an army. Hunters are a hungry bunch, after all.

"Claire?" Dean says as he cracks eggs into a bowl.

"Yeah?"

"You seem happy, too."

There's a long pause. Finally, she says, "I am." Dean turns to see her smiling into her coffee

Just then, Sam and Eileen walk into the kitchen, followed quickly by Garth and Bess. Before long most of the bunker has arrived, and Dean gets back to cooking the feast. Behind him, someone else fires up the toaster, and soon he's handing off plate after plate of bacon, eggs and toast.

Finally, once nearly everyone has food, Cas walks in looking just as rumpled as he always does in the morning. Dean meets him with a mug of coffee and a sweet kiss. "Morning, sunshine," he murmurs against his lips.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas replies, voice still rough with sleep.

And yeah, Dean thinks, he could get used to this.

#destiel #deancas #casdean #spn #supernatural #destiel fic #fic #mine #abbie writes #happy secret santa #I hope you like it!!!

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Paint it Black

gif credit: @spnwhenever

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3103

Summary: Dean must deal with a particularly nasty demon after it possesses his girlfriend.

Notes: Kicking off the final week of the Winchester Takeover, this imagine is based on the song ‘Paint it Black’ by the Rolling Stones. Both Dean imagines are song based this week, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

I see your red door

I want it painted black

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head.

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him.

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.”

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face.

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black.

24 Hours Earlier

“This is a bad idea.” Sam covered his face with his hands as you stared down his brother.

“This is between me and Maverick, Samuel.” You smirked. Dean just glared back at you.

“Don’t call me that.” He growled, but even Sam could hear the playful tone in his voice. You had given him the mocking nickname when you discovered his fear of planes. That, and his inability to follow the rules. You knew that he secretly liked it. “Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart?”

“Just shut up and drink.” With a hand signal from Sam, you started downing shot after shot of tequila. Dean was gaining speed, but you were too stubborn to let him win. You finished the last shot when he still had three to go. Letting out a victory cheer, you gave Sam a high five, wobbling slightly from the impact.

“I had a couple beers earlier.” Dean mumbled as a begrudged excuse. You sloppily kissed his cheek.

“Next round’s on you, champ.”

“I think we should head in for the night.” He gave you a suggestive smile and Sam took that as his cue to leave. Your mouth opened in mock offense.

“Dean Winchester, did you get me drunk so you could get me in bed?” You snorted when you laughed, but Dean found it incredibly attractive.

“Something like that.” He leaned his head down to meet your lips with his for a kiss that was far too inappropriate for standing in the middle of a bar.

“Guys, come on.” Sam groaned from the other side of the room. “We have a motel room… go use it.” The mood was quickly killed when the door to the bar flung open and a bloodied, screaming woman burst in.

“Somebody, help me!” She stumbled towards you and Dean caught her before she could trip. “Please, it’s my son. Something’s wrong with him.”

“Where is he, ma'am?” Sam asked and she pointed out to the parking lot.

“He-he killed my husband.” She bawled, clinging to Dean’s jacket. She looked pretty hurt.

“I’ll stay with her, go find him.” You said, gently prying her away from him. You told the bartender to get you some bandages and something to clean the wounds with. Dean and Sam rushed out the front door and you took the woman to the back room for some privacy.

Dean followed Sam and ducked down behind a beat up old truck for cover. There, in the middle of the lot, was a man’s body, his face all carved up and clothes drenched in blood. More importantly, the smell of sulfur lingered in the air.

“Demon.” Dean growled. They cautiously searched the entire premises, but there was no sign of the son. “Well that’s just great.”

“Let’s get back to Y/N and see what the woman knows.” Sam suggested.

“That’s going to be hard.” You sighed, wiping your hands off on a rag as you walked towards them. “She’s dead.” You froze, smelling the air. “Sulfur?” The boys nodded. “Wonderful.”

“We need to head back to the motel and sober you two up before we do anything.” Sam held his hand and Dean threw him the keys to the impala. Dean sighed. There went his plans for the rest of the night.

“No rest for the wicked, sweetheart.” He draped an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him, hiding your bloody knife in your boot.

No colors anymore

I want them to turn black

Dean took a cold shower to clear his head, still foggy from the alcohol. You seemed fine, considering how much you had had. Sam was watching you with a curious eye.

“You sure you’re doing okay?” He wondered. You gave him a small smile.

“There was nothing I could do. She was half dead coming into that bar.” You shrugged. That’s the moment Sam knew something was up. Every death, no matter how hopeless, always ate at you for days. This wasn’t just alcohol calming you down.

“Right.” He nodded, letting his suspicions seep into his mind. Dean came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“So what’s the plan?” The three of you gathered around the table and you tossed the woman’s wallet in front of the brothers.

“I grabbed this so we could figure out who she was and where her son might have headed. Her name was Jolene Arthurs. That should at least give us a place to start.” They nodded in agreement. You stood. “Okay, it’s my turn for the shower, but when I get out, let’s head over to the Arthur house and see if we can find the son.”

You vanished into the bathroom and Sam waited for the water to run before leaning to his brother, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Is she acting a little weird to you?” Both pairs of eyes looked at the closed door. Dean shrugged.

“She seemed fine to me. Hell, she’s holding up great considering she had more tequila than I did.”

“Exactly.”

Under the hot water, you washed the woman’s blood off of your skin, cleaning off the knife as well. It was a good thing the bar was pretty empty. She was a screamer.

“Get out of me, you black-eyed bitch.” You tsked at your reflection.

“Now that’s not very hospitable of you.” It was your voice, but it didn’t sound like you. With a quick blink, your eyes turned black. “You and I are going to have such fun together, Y/N. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to take Dean for a spin. I’ve always wondered what he’s like in bed and from what I can tell from all those dirty thoughts of yours,” A sick smirk spread across your face. “He’s delicious.”

“If you touch him, I swear to God-”

“We both know the big man doesn’t care about little insignificant problems like us, so why don’t you try a different threat?”

“I promise you, I’m going to send your ass back to hell faster than you can say Lucifer.”

You leaned on the sink, looking deeply into the mirror.

“Baby, if I’m going to hell, you’re coming with me.”

A knock at the door almost made you jump. With one more quick wink to the mirror, your eyes returned to normal and opened the bathroom door, finding Dean on the other side. You gave him a bright and confident smile.

“Did Sam figure out where the house is?”

“Uh, yeah, we’re about to head over.” He stepped into the room and closed the door, eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Sam thinks you’ve been acting a little weird and I know that you think you could have saved that woman-”

“She was so scared, Dean.” You whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. Time to try a different method. “I… I tried, but she had lost so much blood. She begged me to save her. She begged to see her family one last time.” Your lip trembled and any suspicion Dean had immediately dispelled. He pulled you into his arms. “E-every death hurts, Dean.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He soothed, running his fingers through your hair. That’s why you were acting strange. You were trying to hold it together in front of Sam. “Tell you what,” he pulled back enough to look down at you with a small smile, “when this case is over, how about you and I go on a little vacation? Just the two of us. We could go camping in the Rockies like you said you’ve been wanting to.”

“Really?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes. He nodded and leaned in for a kiss.

“It’s not me, baby. That’s not me!”

You wrapped your arms around him again and smiled into the mirror.

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

The day was spent looking through county records and checking the Arthur house. Nothing gave you any clue as to where Jolene’s son, Mika, might have gone. Sam was frustrated, but he made sure to keep an eye on you. Dean shrugged off your behavior as being upset about Jolene, but Sam wasn’t convinced. Something was just… off.

You kept up your act perfectly. Dean would occasionally cast you a sympathetic smile and reminded you about the camping trip he’d promised once this was all over with. Dean Winchester was a good boyfriend. Who would have guessed? Man, this was going to be fun.

“Stay away from him, you Pazuzu wanna-be.”

You ignored the quip.

“I got something!” Dean announced, coming into the room with Mrs. Arthur’s wallet. He held up a small piece of paper with an address on it. “Mica’s new apartment. So proud of him!” He read. “Hopefully our demon is holed up there.”

“What if the demon isn’t him anymore?” Sam suggested. You shrugged.

“Well this is our only lead, Sam. We might as well look into it.”

Sam gave you a once over and you stared innocently back at him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. The two Winchesters went out to the car and you gritted your teeth. Sam was a problem. You’d have to take care of him if you were going to get to his big brother. Oh well.

Arriving at the apartment building, Sam and Dean prepared themselves for an exorcism, grabbing supplies to make a devil’s trap just in case. You brought your knife. All you needed was a moment alone with Sammy boy…

Dean knocked loudly on the door and at first, there was nothing. Listening carefully, you all heard the sounds of someone scuffling inside. He was trying to get away. Dean kicked in the door and you filed inside, finding the young man trying to climb out the window. The older Winchester grabbed him the back of his jacket and yanked him back into the room. Mica cried out for help, earning a hard punch to the mouth from Dean.

“It isn’t in me! It isn’t in me!” He cried. One of his flailing arms hit Dean in the nose and he was able to break away. He grabbed you, wrapping an arm around your throat. He smelled like pathetic fear. Being in his head was like having a conversation with a frightened frat boy. You were much more interesting.

“Let her go.” Dean growled. Sam gripped the demon blade in his hand, but he didn’t dare make an attack. One quick movement and Mica could snap your neck.

“I just want to get out of here, man.” Mica sniffed. “I saw what that thing did to my mom. It was in me. I don’t know how, but it was in me.” His body shook as he tried to hold you against him as a shield.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Dean started to circle around him, slowly as to not startle him. Great. A macho showdown. Boring.

“Ugh, this isn’t fun anymore.” You whined, whirling around and slicing your knife across Mica’s throat. The young man sputtered and choked, blood pouring down from his neck, before collapsing.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam exclaimed. You smiled, closing your eyes.

“Guess again Sammy.” Both brothers revolted, staring into the cold black that replaced your eyes.

“You son of a-” Dean started towards you and you quickly turned your blade on yourself, plunging it deep into your side. Dean screamed. “No!” You winked at him before falling next to the boy you had slaughtered.

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

When you came round again, there was a bandage on your wound, tightly bound to try and stop the blood. You were strapped down to a chair, a devil’s trap painted on the floor beneath you.

“I didn’t take you for a bondage kind of guy.” You smirked at the scowling hunter.

“Shut up.” He snapped. Sam searched his bag for his journal.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sammy. Y/N here is looking a little rough.” You motioned to the wound. “In fact, her little annoying voice is fading already.”

“Stop it.” Dean’s fists clenched at his sides. The demon was right. If they exercised it now, Y/N might not make it.

The window Mica had tried to escape from was still open, sending a cool breeze flowing through the room.

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head.

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him.

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.”

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face.

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black. You leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss. Dean jerked away and you cackled wickedly. It didn’t sound like your laugh. Your laugh was hearty and warm. This sound was icy and cruel.

“Do it Sam.” He said, backing out of the circle.

“I can give her back to you Dean.” You offered slyly. “I can keep her alive and rent her out to you whenever you like. All you have to do is let me stay.”

“Go to hell.”

“Don’t you want to see her again? To hear her voice? She’s just dying to get her hands on you, Dean. I can hear her screaming.”

“Sam, do it!”

“She’ll die, Dean! You’ll kill her.”

Dean couldn’t look at you. No, it wasn’t you. It was a demon. He knew what you would want. Turning away, he gave Sam a nod. The latin words were almost drowned out by your screaming. Shrieks filled the room until the dark cloud finally shot up into the air, diving back into the fiery pit.

Everything went silent. Sam stared at the limp body in front of him and Dean kept his back turned away. Sam suddenly put a hand on his arm.

“Dean,” he started softly. His eyes widened. “Dean, she’s still alive!”

Sam rushed to you as you stirred, coughing and trying to speak. Dean ran and fell to his knees beside the chair, helping his brother to undo the restraints. You slumped forward into his arms. You tried to speak, but your voice was garbled and inaudible.

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s alright now. I’ve got you.” He hushed. Your eyes held a terror that he had never seen before as they welled with tears. “Sam and I are gonna take a look at you, okay?” You nodded weakly and they lifted up your shirt to look at the wound. You winced as Sam lifted the bandage.

“We’ve gotta get her out of here.” He concluded. Dean slowly lifted you up in his arms, moving extra carefully so that you wouldn’t be in any more pain.

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart.” Dean promised. He looked into your Y/E/C eyes and smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I want to see it painted, painted,

Painted Black

They told the doctors that you were mugged. That the man who did it got away without them getting a good look. It was enough for them to not ask more questions. When they asked for next of kin, they said that they were the only family you had, which was the first true thing they said since they stepped in the hospital.

Dean was sitting in the lobby, his leg bouncing up and down with nervous anticipation. Sam had made him stop pacing because he was getting odd looks from people. They were both bloodstained and exhausted, so people steered clear of their direction.

“You can go back now.” The nurse announced. Both Winchester boys jumped out of their seats and nearly sprinted down the hall.

“Now, Miss Y/L/N, you need to lay down-”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to see them.” You fought against her as she tried to urge you back into the bed. Your eyes locked with your boyfriend’s and you let out a cry of relief. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I should have known. I should have seen it in that woman before I helped her-”

“Shhhh,” Dean took you in his arms, making sure he didn’t bump your bandages. “I thought I lost you, baby.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Sam sighed, giving you a small, guilty smile.

“You did what you had to, Sam.” You assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

After they got you checked out, Dean kept his promise and took you camping. It was a break that you needed. Sometimes, you could feel the darkness closing in again, that inky black that the demon had tormented you with. But Dean kept it away, like he always did.

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