#when the cops were done talking to him over there him and his family came to the farm
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The amount of times I have had a thought to send to my sister and remembered she will never get it 😭
#kee speaks#we went to the funeral home yesterday and it felt so surreal#mom shared the note my sister left with me and my brother so we know what her mindset was like and her reasoning#but it hurts that she never voiced it to us when we could've reassured her#she parked her truck in one of our farming fields behind a row of thick bushes so the truck wasn't visible from the road#you wouldn't know a truck could make it there unless you've been in that field before like we have#but it's right next to a dammed lake and that's where my brother in law proposed to her and only four days before their wedding anniversary#and then he was the one who found her#none of my family made it over there to be there with him#my dad tried but he blew the engine on his truck just a few miles from the farm; not even a quarter of the way to the field#i think that was a sign that he shouldn't have been there#but my brother in laws family all made it over there so he had his immediate family with him and my family was together at the farm#when the cops were done talking to him over there him and his family came to the farm#from Friday afternoon until Sunday night it was just a continuous parade of people coming and going from the farm#even yesterday evening a bunch of people stopped by#i don't think i have ever received so many hugs in a 72 hour period before#we've definitely deduced that my parents church will not be big enough for everyone if all that showed up at the farm plus more will be ther#we picked a day almost two weeks away for the funeral so that people can make arrangements to come#im so exhausted though#i keep crying over things that feel stupid to cry over#like she was the one who convinced me to read the Murderbot Diaries and the next book comes out in the next couple months#i wont get to talk to her about it#i was going to lend her my PS5 so she could play Jedi Survivor#on Saturday i kept crying over a pin that has been sitting on my mug shelf in the cupboard that was meant for her#i convinced myself to wait until Christmas and put it in her stocking#and now I feel bad that i didnt give it to her when i bought it cause maybe it would've brought her some joy
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the act of unravelling (part four)
pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader
rating mature 18+
summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.
tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.
< prev
You sit in your manager’s office, facing the bay window that overlooks the vast golf course. Your fingers are interlaced in an effort to hide the way your hands are trembling.
When Detective Brading asked for the space as you meekly followed him into the office, your boss shot you an unsettled glance, then agreed and left the room.
It throws you into a chilling realization. Everyone will give you that same condemning look when they find out the truth. You can’t imagine why else a cop unexpectedly came to your workplace and dragged you away – he must know what you’ve done.
The confidence you had last night that you’d get away with this crumbles when the door slams shut, making you flinch. Detective Brading expels a deep sigh. Why doesn’t he just arrest you and get it over with?
“Every second in a missing person’s case is precious,” the detective tells you. He sits on the edge of the desk instead of in the chair behind it, staring down at you. If he’s trying to scare you, it’s working.
Missing. At least that means they haven’t found Porter’s body.
“I hate to disrupt you like this at work.” His words mismatch his tone. “But I think you can help us.”
“How?” you ask.
“You said you were with Rafe for a couple hours the night Porter went missing,” he says. “Do you know where he went after he dropped you off?”
“Home,” you answer quickly.
“And you’re sure about that?”
“I’m…” You can’t be too defensive. It’ll raise red flags. “Pretty sure.”
The detective sighs again, as if you’re disappointing him with every word you say.
You glance at the framed photos of your boss and his family on the wall. He lives such a comfortable, normal life. You lost your chance at normalcy the second you told Rafe to pull the trigger.
“I’m sure it’s hard to hear this about a friend of yours, but we think he played a role in Porter’s disappearance,” he says. “And we need to ask you to talk to him about that night.”
“Me?”
“Yes. We’d have you wearing a wire.”
“What?” you say, floored. “Why me? We haven’t been hanging out that long. I don’t think he’d trust me enough to tell me anything.”
You hope you didn’t just discredit yourself or Rafe. But if they try to get one of Rafe’s other friends to trick him into a confession, you know for a fact that he wouldn't admit a thing. But you? You’re the only person he’d openly talk to about what really happened.
Your body is tight with anxiety. Maybe that’s why they’re asking you to do it. They think you know something and Rafe slipping up in a conversation with you is their meticulous way of proving it.
“I shouldn’t share this, but his other friends don’t believe that he’s entirely innocent,” Brading says. “You’re the only one we spoke to who does. And I think Rafe knows that you’re in his corner. I can tell you’re a good kid. Do the right thing and help us find Porter.”
You don’t buy it. You can’t ignore the instinct telling you that Brading is suspicious of you, too. He’s manipulating you. And for once, it feels good to be underestimated.
If you refuse to help, it could work against you. But if you agree, and you find a way to warn Rafe that you’re being listened to, that’d help your case. And his.
“I’d have eyes on you the entire time,” the detective explains. “He’s out on the golf course now. He came alone. Act like it’s just another day at work. Strike up conversation. See if he can open up about what he did after he dropped you off that night.”
“You want me to do this now?” you stutter.
“Like I said, every second is precious,” he says. “I know you’re caught off guard, but he’ll be, too. It’ll work to our advantage. I’d be in your ear, telling you what to say. You can handle this.”
This is a trick. It has to be. He cornered you because he suspects you, and now, he’s trying to outsmart you.
You mentally run through the possibilities. You can’t contact Rafe to warn him. But you could type a note out on your phone and find a way to flash it to him inconspicuously.
You’ll figure it out. And if you can’t, you’ll back out and say you couldn’t handle the pressure.
“Okay,” you agree. “I can do it.”
“Good.”
“I just need a second. Can I go to the restroom?”
“Yes. I have to ask you to leave your phone. We can’t take any risks.”
He assumes you’ll give Rafe a head’s up. Now you’re sure you’re a suspect, too. You try to look understanding as you hand him your phone.
·········
You’re seconds away from a panic attack as you pace around the private restroom, trying to figure out how the hell you can tip Rafe off. Maybe you should just back out.
Then, it comes to you.
The logbook tucked in your backpocket. The one Rafe teased you about and called your diary just last week. It’s your way out.
You uncap the pen hooked onto the book, open to an empty page, and write: wearing a wire. act innocent.
·········
Rafe lines up his club behind the white ball, his shoulders tight. He can’t shake off what happened last night.
You’re afraid of him. You pulled him in and pressed your lips against his, but then you shoved him away when he tried to hold you. And after you promised you wouldn’t screw him over, you left abruptly and took away the warmth he’s spent his whole life craving.
You’re supposed to have each other’s backs. He owes you and he wants to protect you, but you act like he’s a wild animal you can’t trust won’t bite you. He doesn’t know how to prove that you don’t need to be scared of him.
And it’s not just you expecting the worst of him. The way his own friends have been acting around him, shifty and tense, is pissing him off. He is guilty, but the fact that they have no faith in him digs a hole into his already overwhelming loneliness.
He’s out here on his own because he desperately needs to clear his head. He desperately needs to see you.
You drive the cart over the paved pathway to where Brading told you Rafe is. Your heart is racing, terrified this will go terribly wrong.
“You can still hear me clearly?” Brading says in your ear.
“Yes,” you say quietly. The earpiece he gave you is tiny and unnoticeable. The logbook you placed beside you after you drove off is the only chance you have of warning Rafe.
“Remember, act natural. Bring up Porter when it feels right,” Brading says. “Looks like he spotted you.”
You pull up to Rafe as he places a club in the bag hanging off the back of his cart. You remind yourself over and over that you have to speak about Porter in the present tense.
You can’t believe you’re here. Life twisted and turned and things you never imagined possible are your reality now.
There’s a genuinity in Rafe’s smile when your eyes meet his, the complete opposite of the pompous smirk you’ve seen over the years you’ve known him. If your heart wasn’t already pounding from adrenaline, it would be from the way he’s looking at you.
“Finally,” he says. “I was getting thirsty.”
“Don’t tell me you want a beer this early in the morning,” you sigh tensely, staying seated as you look over your shoulder to the cooler packed in the back. Brading is yards away, parked in a cart and posing as a golfer taking a break. Your breath is shaky.
“I’m kidding,” Rafe says, a little softer. He steps forward, hand on the roof of your cart, leaning closer to you. His eyes search your face. You’ve been aching to see him again. You wonder if he feels the same. “You mad at me or something?”
“Ask him why he’s alone,” the detective instructs you, jerking you out of your small moment of joy.
“I’m always mad at you,” you joke. “How come you’re alone out here? You’re always with your friends.”
“They’ve been pissing me off lately,” he mutters.
“Why?” Brading says. You plead with your eyes that Rafe just look down at your note, but he speaks before you can repeat the detective’s word.
“Why’d you run out last night?” His gaze trails down to your lips, his voice low. “Thought we were having a good time.”
It’s embarrassing to know you’re being listened to. And nerve-wracking that now the detective knows you’re more than just friends. Anyone could tell from Rafe’s suggestive tone that something happened.
You did suddenly leave the closet you’d led him to last night. Kissing him got to be overwhelming. But you can see in his gaze that it wasn’t just an impulsive, passion-filled makeout at a party. It meant something to him. And it’s a relief, because it meant something to you, too.
The chemistry you felt with him was always returned. It was just contained. Watered down. And now, whatever this is could end before it even begins. He could say one thing and get you both into trouble.
You regret agreeing to this. You need to get Rafe’s attention on the open book beside you before it’s too late.
“We were. I had to get back to my friends,” you say. “Why are yours pissing you off?”
“You know,” he says, glancing to the side. “They’re always lookin’ at me like I’m guilty.”
You can hear your pulse. You keep your eyes on Rafe, discreetly tapping on the page. He doesn’t notice. He doesn't follow your silent instructions.
“Are you?” Brading says. You repeat the two words, your throat dry.
Rafe’s brows furrow in confusion. He looks at you again. A tense silence blankets you.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” you say. “Not even my diary.”
Your heart lifts in all-consuming relief when Rafe catches your meaning. He looks down at the logbook and realization washes over his face.
You’re safe. The man in your ear isn’t going to discover a thing.
“What, you agree with them?” Rafe asks. His tone is casual, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a nervous swallow. Your eyes are locked knowingly, enveloped in the comfort that he knows to play along now.
“Tell him no,” Brading says.
“No,” you half-laugh. “I’m just saying, if there is something about that night that you didn’t tell me, you can trust that it’ll stay between us.”
“I was with you.”
“Ask him what he did after,” Brading instructs.
“Not all night,” you reply, cocking your head. “Where’d you go after you dropped me off?”
“Home. You know that,” he replies. “Even you’re doubting me now? Come on.”
“No,” you repeat. You reach for his hand, eyes trained on him. “I’m sorry. I just meant to say… if something happened, I wouldn’t judge you for it. You trust me, right?”
Rafe’s body buzzes at your touch. He does. He completely trusts you and it’s such a new, comforting feeling and he wishes you felt it for him, too.
“I do,” he says.
“You’d tell me?”
“I would.”
You nod reassuringly.
“I don’t know where Porter is,” Rafe says. “And I wish people would stop looking at me like I did something to him. I’m so sick of everyone expecting the worst of me.”
You’re not sure where his lie ends and the truth begins, but his fixed gaze is heavy with sincerity.
“We’re not getting anywhere with him,” Brading mutters. “End the conversation and meet me back at the office.”
“I don’t expect the worst of you,” you tell him.
His shoulders relax and you can tell your words did something to him. You nod again, a small, relieved smile pulling on your lips.
“I should get back to work,” you say. “You sure you don’t want anything to drink?”
“You’re just fishing for a tip now,” Rafe replies, smirking.
“Guilty.”
You both share a soft chuckle, the twisted joke behind your word choice not lost on either of you.
·········
The detective is tense when you see him again, a minor crack in his confident demeanor. It’s clear he thought he was going to catch you – both of you – today.
You thought you’d clear your and Rafe’s name through the monitored conversation, but Brading just looks angry now.
“You didn’t mention your relationship is more than friendly,” he says, arms crossed as he stands across from you in your boss’s office. He didn’t even care to sit down this time.
“Sorry. I didn’t know you needed to know that.”
“I need to know everything. You were withholding information,” he tells you. “And there’s something else you’re not telling me.”
The facade he was putting on has faded. He’s on edge and direct about the fact that he doesn’t trust a word out of your mouth.
“There isn’t,” you reply.
“Listen,” Brading says, his voice heavy and terse. “Porter’s family brought me into this because I’ve had a long, successful career of putting away scumbags like your boyfriend. I know your type. I know you’re covering for him. And you’re just making it worse for yourself by not telling me what you know.”
You don’t respond, staring at him blankly, your heart drumming in fear.
“I could make things easier for you if you just admit it,” he says. “A judge is likely to be lenient when someone helps with an investigation. I’d vouch for you.”
He’s intimidating. But you won’t give in. You never will.
“I don’t know anything,” you state.
His lips close into a firm line as he steps past you.
“I’ll see you soon,” Brading threatens before he opens the door.
·········
The lip of the sun still clings onto the ocean horizon as Rafe drives south. He was relieved when you texted him to come over tonight. He needs to see you. And he needs to talk about what happened this morning.
You answer your front door and Rafe takes in your gentle gaze and he swears that the pull he always felt towards you is a thousand times stronger because for once, you actually seem glad to see him.
“We can go to my room,” you say. You’ve been anxious to meet with him. You can’t control your impulse and you don’t see any reason to.
You press your cheek against his chest and wrap your arms around him the moment your bedroom door shuts behind you. His heart is thudding against your ear, his body hard and warm.
Rafe hesitantly cups your arms, not sure if you’ll push him away like you did last night.
“He just showed up at my work,” you say in a nervous rush, “and I thought if he heard you say you didn’t do anything, he’d back off, but then he said he knows I’m hiding something. He’s onto us. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer. I can’t afford one. You have to help me pay for one.”
Rafe realizes you’re trembling beneath him. He doesn’t give a fuck that the man who scared you like this is a cop; if he was in front of him right now, he’d punch him.
“I will,” he says. “That was smart. The note.”
“I was so worried you wouldn’t see it.” You pull back, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “I know it was risky. You did a good job.”
He nods, gazing down at you. He’s not used to people telling him he did something right.
It’s unreal to be here, standing in your bedroom, past the guard you’ve forced him to stay behind for so long. It’s intimate seeing where you live, where you sleep, where you exist.
“He told me a judge would go easy on me if I helped with the case,” you admit, “but I have your back. And I don’t expect the worst of you, okay? I know you have my back, too.”
“You trust me?” Rafe asks, a hint of surprise in his deep voice. His hands drag down your arms, stopping at your wrists.
You wriggle against him, a subconscious test that you’re not trapped. He immediately releases you.
It makes his chest ache to know you expect him to harm you.
“I won’t hurt you,” he says.
Your body betrays you. Tears surface, hot and fast. The fresh wound lodges against your heart.
“It’s not…” You step back, knees wobbling. Your legs are suddenly desperate to rest and can’t hold you up any longer. “It’s not personal.”
You step away, sitting at the edge of your bed, head in your hands. You’ve barely been keeping it together, trying to outrun the shadow of pain that’s been haunting you. There’s no limit to what you’d give to forget what happened.
You brush your hands off your face when you hear the floorboards creak. Rafe leans in front of you, crouched at your feet. You watch his hands ghost over your calves.
It throws you for a loop, seeing him on your floor like this. For so long, all you assumed about him was that he thought he was above you. Now, he’s on his knees for you.
“Hey.” He says it in the same way he did after the gun went off. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him. You know that’s what he wants.
You meet his eyes, and when you see the genuine concern swimming in the deep blue, all the strings hardly keeping you together unravel.
“It wasn’t about money,” you utter tearfully.
“What?”
“It wasn’t ever about money. He didn’t rip me off.” Your sobs start to come out as gasps. “He hurt me.”
Rafe’s veins turn to ice. He frantically searches your face for an explanation because no, it can’t be what he’s thinking.
“I passed out while he…” You shake your head, tears rolling over your cheeks as you shut your eyes. “It’s like my mind couldn’t take what he was doing to my body and I passed out. And then you came in…”
His breaths grow shallow. That’s why you were as angry as you were. Why you cried as hard as you did. Why you tense up and shove him away when he holds you.
When Rafe pushed Porter in that room, he never would have expected you’d be there, bearing the pain of something that fractured you. He’s furious, disgusted, in disbelief.
He sees now that you meant when you said you don’t regret killing him. The empty look on your face was never guilt. It was fear. Trauma.
“I know I shouldn’t have gone upstairs alone,” you whisper, eyes still closed. “I didn’t think–”
“Stop,” he says softly. His hands rest on your face, palms gently cupping your wet cheeks. Of all the things you thought you knew about him, you would’ve never expected him to be so tender. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
It settles your coiled heart hearing him dismiss the nauseating, intrusive thoughts you’ve had blaming yourself for what happened. You finally open your eyes to look at him again.
His eyes are glossy. He knows now and he’s looking at you with so much sympathy that your chest stutters with your gasps, stomach somehow twisting in both pain and relief.
For once, Rafe doesn’t say the first thing that pops into his head – that if he knew what Porter had done, he would have made him suffer, he would have tortured him, instead of shooting a single, life-ending bullet. Because there’s no point. You saved his life that night and he wishes he could’ve saved yours, but all he can do right now is tell you what he will do instead of what he would have done.
“I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again,” he murmurs. “I swear on my life. You’ll always be safe with me.”
He’s hesitant to startle you with his touch, but thankfully, you lean over and wrap your arms atop his shoulders and it’s so gratifying to know you’re using him to ground yourself.
Rafe holds you like he can’t get close enough. Because he can’t. Nothing he does now can take back what happened to you but everything he does moving forward will be to make sure you never experience a horror like that again.
His life is no longer a cycle of numbing thrills. He has a real reason to keep going now.
You inhale the comforting smell of his neck, your cheek pressed against his. You curl into him as you shake through your sobs.
“Nobody else knows,” you admit, voice muffled against his skin. “I didn’t think I’d tell.”
Even after what you’d done together, a bond that didn’t exist between you before digs its roots into you both. He’s holding you with softness you didn’t know he was capable of, after making a promise so sincere that you felt it in your core.
“You’re safe,” he whispers. And for the first time since that terrifying night, you feel it.
·········
It’s been five days since Brading accosted you at work. Even though he hasn’t bothered you since, and there haven’t been any public updates on the investigation, you’re on edge knowing that you and Rafe are suspects.
Since then, when you’re not working or hanging out with your friends, you’re with Rafe.
You still haven’t told the guys. You don’t know how you could possibly prove to them how good of a man Rafe actually is when you can’t tell them a single detail of what’s happened between you. You’d rather not have to explain yourself to them. Not yet.
Rafe doesn’t pester you about being your secret. As long as he’s something to you.
It’s dusk and you’re sitting on the quiet beach with him, cocooned in comfort and curled up on the sand, the setting sun playing across his handsome face.
Since your conversation in your bedroom, you haven’t spoken about the night that tied you two together.
But you have been speaking to each other like never before, holding onto the playfulness that always existed beneath your banter, allowing yourselves to talk and joke and kiss with no inhibitions. Except he doesn’t dare hold you without asking if he can first.
Tonight, as you sit side-by-side in the clouded orange and pink glow, Rafe feels a smile on his face, a real one, after not smiling for so many years. Being with you is the first time in a long time that he feels vaguely normal.
“It’s too bad,” you say, gazing at his dimples.
“What is?” Rafe rasps.
“That you’ve been keeping this smile from me for so long,” you say with a glint in your eyes. “Why were you so dedicated to hating me?”
“You hated me,” he scoffs with a smirk.
“You started it. All that Pogue/Kook crap.” You meant it as a joke, but Rafe’s smile fades. He looks ahead at the crashing waves. You hit a nerve.
“What?” you ask softly.
Rafe is consumed by his own emotions. He’s a victim to how demanding and overwhelming they can be. He’s been like that for most of his life.
Being with you has cleared some of the fog in his head. He knows now that he was desperate for some form of connection and that’s why he bought into the idea that being part of a group meant something.
If he had nothing of substance to him, nothing lovable, at least he had wealth in common with a social circle he always felt disjointed from. It was a ridiculous substitute for a sense of belonging.
“I was jealous,” he finally admits.
“Jealous?” you echo.
His jaw tenses. He can’t look at you.
“You’ve seen it yourself,” Rafe mutters. “When shit hit the fan, nobody backed me up. Nobody checks up on me. Nobody gives a damn. I don’t have any real friends. And you called your friends family. I don’t have that. I don’t have anybody. It’s why I sell coke. It’s pathetic, but at least I have something worth…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. The man who you thought had everything never did. He was in pain, lonely, selling drugs because at least it gave people something to like about him.
“Rafe,” you say quietly. He meets your gaze. You wish you could unsee the hurt in his eyes. “You have me. I care about you so much.”
You look at him in all the ways he��d always secretly hoped you would. The years of longing for you – the girl who always has a retort, who always keeps him on his toes, who always looks so frustratingly beautiful – all those daydreams don’t come close to how it actually feels to have you like this.
He wonders if you have any idea of all the ways you can break him.
“Yeah?” is all he can mumble, his throat tight.
You nod, finding his hand and pulling it to your chest. He’s not sure if you meant to press him up against where he can feel your pulse, but he feels the rhythmic thudding coming from beneath your skin, and God, is it insane that he feels like he lives for your heartbeat?
He thought he was fine living an empty life. But he’s gotten a taste of being wrapped up in you and he doesn’t want to lose it. Ever.
“You keep me safe,” you say softly. “Let me do the same for you in my own way, alright?”
He nods, blinking away tears. Your heart breaks and you lean forward, losing yourself in his kiss. His lips are soft and gentle, pushing against yours with a soft fragility.
“Are you okay?” you whisper against his cheek. He hasn’t been okay in so long. But this is the closest to it he’s ever gotten. He doesn’t want to hide you. He wants everyone to see you chose him.
“Do you want to go to that bonfire tonight?” he asks.
There’s a party at the beach you spoke at a couple of weeks ago, back when Rafe stopped you after you bought a joint from Porter.
“Together?” you ask. He nods, uncertainty pinching his face. You can tell he’s expecting you to say no. As if you’re ashamed of him.
You’re almost sure your friends won’t be there. They asked you to hang out at Pope’s tonight and you declined and said you’d stay home. They probably won’t be at the bonfire.
Either way, you’re willing to take the risk. Rafe is worth it.
·········
Gossip spreads like weeds. You can tell by how people stare at you when you arrive with Rafe that his name has been in everyone’s mouths, whispering conspiracies about what he did to Porter. You know your name will start to come up in those conversations, too.
“So, it’s true,” one of his buddies says when he sees you cupping Rafe’s bicep as you join the group, the bonfire crackling. “You’re really messing with a Pogue.”
“That’ll be the last time you call her that, got it?” Rafe says sharply. His friend scoffs a laugh, putting his hands up in feigned surrender, his beer bottle sloshing.
Rafe leans to mumble in your ear, “Do you want a drink?”
“Yeah,” you say, eager to take the edge off.
You swallow the bitterness of the drink Rafe picks up for you, staring ahead at the ocean, thinking about how somewhere in the vast expanse, Porter’s body is lying at the bottom.
“Man, it’s weird just… continuing to live life, isn’t it?”
You look up to see a man standing beside you. He’s a friend of the person you killed. You recognize him from the day at the club when Porter called you over. You still get shivers remembering his smile.
“What do you mean?” you mumble.
“Porter. He’s just gone,” he continues. There’s a slur in his words. He’s drunk. “He’s gotta be… you know. There’s no other explanation.”
You tighten your grip on Rafe’s arm, but he doesn’t notice, lost in conversation with one of his buddies.
“Yeah,” you offer. “It’s sad.”
“He told me he liked you,” he says with a raised brow. “He had a huge crush on you.”
You can taste bile on your tongue. You look up at Rafe, whose attention is on your conversation now. His stare is hard, his nostrils flared in anger.
“I didn’t know,” you say simply.
“Really?” he laughs. “He said you were playing hard to get.”
His vile words make your breath hitch.
The flame in Rafe rises so fast that within two seconds, he swings a punch. And suddenly, he’s leaning over, knuckles ramming into the idiot’s face as he lies on the sand, unleashing the rage of what happened to you and the urge to take your pain away.
He could kill him.
Rafe feels hands at the crooks of his shoulders pulling him back. He struggles to get on his feet, his friends’ words overlapping as they try to calm him down. He’s breathless, looking up to meet your eyes, taking in how completely lost and anguished you look.
He roughly pushes his friends off as he stumbles towards you, his shaking hands resting on your shoulders.
“Let’s go,” he says to you, looking at you like you’re the only one here.
“You’re such an asshole!” the guy on the ground shouts.
Rafe ignores him, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you away from the crowd. You’re trembling, thrown back to that night, thrown back to being called a tease, thrown back to being held down.
You reach the parking lot, not nearly far enough from the loud crowd, still hearing the crackling of the fire, when your knees buckle.
Your heart is pounding so hard that you’re afraid it’s going to give out. But Rafe holds you up as you stand between parked cars, looking at you with desperation.
“Baby, it’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”
You find strength as you pull your arms up around his shoulders. He holds you tightly, firm and still against your shaking body.
You’re slowly finding peace.
Then you hear JJ’s voice mutter, “What the hell?”
You pull back, spotting him a few feet away with Pope and John B getting out of the car, looking at you with an expression you can only describe as appalled. You don’t have words. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.
Blistering sirens reverberate through you. They get so loud so fast that you don’t realize you’ve lost contact with Rafe until a police car jolts to a stop a few feet away from you.
This has to be a nightmare.
Detective Brading swings open the door, followed by another cop, rushing towards you and Rafe. He’s carrying handcuffs. You might lose consciousness.
“Knew this day was coming, didn’t you?” Brading says before he grips Rafe’s wrist, pushing him up against the nearest car.
Rafe struggles, but Brading slams him against the hood of the car so hard that you hear the thud of his skull against the metal.
“Stop! You can’t hurt him like that!” you cry. The other police officer steps in front of you, pushing you back. You expect him to handcuff you, too. He doesn’t.
You look around you in terrified desperation as if someone can help. The crowd has quickly come closer, watching in awe, as if you and Rafe’s lives aren’t being pulled apart for everyone to see.
You meet Rafe’s frightened gaze as the side of his face presses against the car. Brading flatly recites his rights, handcuffing him, ignoring you as you beg that he tell you why he’s being arrested, that he stop hurting him.
Rafe doesn’t say a word until you whimper in pain and plead to the officer keeping you back to stop holding so tight. He tries to charge forward, demanding he take his hands off of you, earning him another rough push against the car.
Brading hauls him away and you try to follow, but the other officer keeps you back, gripping you so hard that it reminds you of Porter all over again.
“You want to get arrested, too?” he mutters. Your muscles give in, losing tension. You still don’t understand why Rafe’s being arrested and you’re not.
“No. Sorry. I’ll stop,” you say weakly. “Where’s he being taken?”
The officer doesn’t believe you at first, but eventually, he loosens his grip.
“The county jail,” he says, looking past your shoulder as the car door shuts.
Then, they leave, and you’re in front of the crowd, in front of your friends, frozen and speechless.
·········
Your mouth is dry as you wait in the lobby of the quiet jail. They won’t give you any information. Nothing about what the charge is, how long Rafe will be here, if he’ll be given bail. It’s been an hour.
You hold JJ’s car keys in your shaking hands. You were frantic when you begged him to lend you his car, promising you’d take care of it.
He confusedly agreed and you left immediately, not exchanging any other words, following the police car just in case the officer lied to you about where they were going.
Your phone is dead and your connection to the outside world is dead with it.
Your stomach drops when you spot Brading exit through a door behind the processing desk.
“What’s happening?” you ask. “Where is he? Is he okay?”
He stiffly cuts through the lobby, pushing open the front door, letting it swing behind him. You grunt as the door hits your palms.
“I suggest you go home,” Brading mutters as you trail him into the dark parking lot. “I can charge you for assault against a police officer if you don’t stop harassing me.”
“Please. I just want to know,” you plead. “Nobody will tell me anything.”
You’re sure he’s getting a power trip out of this. You didn’t tell him what he wanted to know. Now, he won’t tell you.
“Please,” you repeat, feeling utterly powerless. The detective stops abruptly, facing you, his face in a scowl.
“I’m ordering you to go home,” he says sharply.
“Brading?” someone calls behind him.
Within a matter of seconds, you hear something you never thought you’d hear again. The single and unmistakable blow of a gunshot.
·········
You’re in disbelief, staring ahead at the stranger sitting in your living room as her gaze travels between you and your parents. The woman introduced herself as an agent, flashing a shiny badge before she came inside.
Last night, you gave the cops a statement about what had happened in the parking lot. A man was out there, agitated and waiting for Brading. He shot him and looked you dead in the eyes before another man shouted for him to get down on the ground.
He drove away, tires screeching, as the officer who’d rushed out of the jail shot at the car. You remember dropping to the cold concrete, being interrogated by a detective, and eventually being ordered to go home and not tell a soul what you’d seen.
You’re still terrified, unable to accept what your life has become and how the domino effect you’ve been thrust into could be so vicious.
“Detective Brading is in critical condition,” the woman says, “but he was able to identify the man who shot him.”
“What about Rafe?” you ask. “Is he okay?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”
You sniffle your tears, shaking your head in disbelief. You still haven’t been given any updates on him.
“I’m here because the man from last night,” she continues, “is part of a family that has dangerous affiliations. Brading has a history of putting away high-profile criminals, and he arrested the shooter’s brother. His brother recently passed away in prison and… he tracked Brading down to make him pay. He’s still at large. According to your statement, he saw you, is that right?”
You nod anxiously, waiting for her to get to her point. By now, you have enough trauma to last you ten lifetimes.
Then, she tells you that for you and your parents’ safety, you’ll need to be put into witness protection and that you’ll be relocated and given new identities immediately.
When you ask what you’re supposed to say to the people you’re leaving behind, she’s eerily calm as she tells you, “Nothing. I’m sorry, but there’s no way you can contact anyone you know. Everyone will be under the impression that you’ve died.”
·········
You consumed Rafe’s thoughts as he sat in the county jail cell. He didn’t focus on how suffocating the room was, or how badly his wrists burned from the handcuffs, or what his future was going to look like.
He thought about you, how completely and deliberately you were in his corner, how all the embarrassment of being arrested in front of all those people was erased when you yelled in his defense.
The only voice in the crowd standing up for him, while everyone else watched, was yours. He has never cared about someone more than himself. You changed that.
That’s why when he receives the news that you passed away in an accident, he snaps.
next >
note sorry for the drama… now i can finally share that this inspired this part of the story 🤭
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#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
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Suspicions
Day 3 {Challenge Masterlist}
Getting close, but not close enough. Something's wrong here. How could they have known? Who did this?
[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of suicide (only briefly talked about in dialog), cults, occult like acctivites, weird behavior (?), arson (sort of).] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)
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Unlike the previous two days, this one starts off rather eventful - which is honestly more common and normal than anyone in the Wayne family liked to admit, but really, it wasn’t their fault they all just worked better in chaos. Nevertheless, for those that weren’t up already, the day is smooth sailing until they exit their rooms - or wherever they slept - and are left to find what’s happened in the batcave.
Tim is one of the last to find out, as he just gets his slow morning started - grabbing a cup of tea to help him wake up instead of coffee, rubbing his eyes to get the tiredness out of them, and starting things off officially with a plate of breakfast. Once that’s done and out of the way, he finally gives himself a good, simple stretch before heading down to the batcave. It’s only there, does he see the mess unfolding.
It’s subtle, sure, but with how long Tim has technically been a Wayne, well, he can tell when something’s going on. Bruce is drinking coffee, and Cassandra, while out of the suit, already looks to be itching to put it back on again. Tim noticed that Stephanie had slept over while he was on his way to the kitchen earlier, but didn’t think much about it - though what caught his attention was the fact that not only was Jason here, but that he was awake. Huh.
“What’s going on here?” Tim asks, voice having its usual echo as he takes a sip of his tea, approaching the little crowd by the batcomputer - taking note of Barbara’s presence as well, have any of them slept?
Cassandra seems to take note of him first, and perks up, though just as she goes to supposedly explain what they’re doing, Jason cuts her off. Instead, he straightens himself out, and asks, “Hey, have you or any of your birds seen anyone weird around, lately? Like, extra shady or just new? Like they come from out of the city?”
Tim raises a brow at the question, “This is Gotham? Every other person looks like someone shady- and what does ‘extra shady’ even mean? And besides, Gotham is a big city, newcomers come in and out everyday,” he points out, and though his response only gets an annoyed groan out of Jason, he can’t help but remain curious, “why? What’s going on this time?”
Jason seems to ignore Tim’s own question, and instead asks, “Okay, have you seen anyone with some weird symbol on them? Something simple that represents a sun, maybe on their neck, wrists, arm, or just some exposed part of their body?”
“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Just as Jason looks like he’s going to throw something, or someone, Tim adds, “but I think a few of the birds have, and- hey, some new officers came in from Metropolis, right? What’s up with that?”
Just as Jason goes to open his mouth again, Cassandra gives him a nudge, and gestures for Tim to come over.
From there, he’s given the gist, and he has the reasonable reaction of just, being confused. While he understands what’s going on, what he doesn’t get is the supposed group itself. While they do seem to be working towards this ‘Red Dawn’, is it something they’re working towards, or merely preparing for? Is there something on that specific day that will happen, and will allow… well, whatever they’re hoping for, to happen? There are a lot of things that are undetermined, but Tim is on board with the general goal - they have to learn more about these people, what they want, and put a stop to it since it has to be something bad that people are killing themselves over it. You were right when you said that the only people they were hurting were themselves, but they were still people, and what if their influence spreads? What if they rope in more people, only for them to die-
Duke rushes into the cave, a smile of sorts on his face and he hurries around the space, gathering a few things here and there - mostly his gear, but some other things too - quickly, as if in a hurry. It was hard not to notice, seeing as he was the only real movement going on in the room and it drew the attention of those at the computer. Tim was the first to question it, asking, “What’s the rush?”
“Patrol!” It was an easy enough answer, but something felt off about it, though Tim couldn’t put a finger on it - no one really could, but those that were paying more attention did notice something.
“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Barbara points out, and Duke pauses, chuckling briefly before grabbing his helmet.
“Right- thanks! Anyway, gotta go-!” With that, the young vigilante rushes out of the cave after hurriedly putting on his suit and gear. A few of those in the cave stare, raising a couple of brows or just looking confused before ultimately returning to what they were doing – even if such a sight weirded them out. Cassandra, however, couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the sight as she watched Duke rush out of the cave.
He seemed… really excited to be going on patrol… hm.
Duke could hardly focus on where his feet were going as he rushed out of the house, a warm sort of feeling blooming in his chest as he made his way out of the cave, and through the front door – nearly bumping into someone on the way out. Even if he was able to just barely move out of the way, a quick, “Sorry! I’ve really got to go, Selina!” Leaves him, the words tumbling out of his mouth like how he almost trips over the single step in front of the door. Leaving behind a confused but amused catwoman all the while.
Getting to the city is easy enough, and even more so with a small tug in his chest seemingly guiding Duke somewhere. Does he know where? Not particularly, but he can’t help but have a good feeling about this.
Dropping down in an alley, Duke peaks around a corner to get a glimpse of the city before slipping out – only to bump into someone… somehow.
Shaking it off, he goes to say something – only to stop himself when he sees who it is, what a coincidence. “Oh, [Last Name], what’re you doing here?”
You glance over your shoulder, and raise your brow at the sight of the teenager, “Grabbing breakfast? Why else would I be waiting in line at this breakfast spot?” A small, amused chuckle escapes you as you offer a hand to help him up, and it’s only then that Duke notices he fell at all.
“Oh! Yeah, that… um, makes sense?” Grasping your hand, he pulls himself up and glances to the side awkwardly. This wasn’t very professional, was it? As a vigilante, he was supposed to be better than this – and more, well, vigilant! He had to get it together, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you!
Clearing his throat, Duke meets your eyes once again, “Seems like things are busy here, huh?” Just what the hell was he trying to do? Duke couldn’t understand – he had patrol to do, he couldn’t just sit here and make small talk-
“I guess you could say that, it does seem busier than it has been the last few days, but nevermind that- what’re you doing here, Thomas?” Your grip loosens on his hand, but Duke can’t find it in himself to let go. Not after what you just said, and so casually at that – like knowing his secret identity was common knowledge and not, well, secret!
Duke’s mind races, with him staring at you like your face alone will provide all the answers, and in the midst of his disbelief, a breathless, stunned, “What?” Slips past his lips, and your brows seem to furrow.
“Is something wrong, Thomas-?”
“How-” Duke can barely even speak, his eyes blown wide. He wants to pull away, but it’s like your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded – making him almost hate how real it feels, especially as his hold tightens. With him now grasping onto it like he’s both afraid to let go, and desperate to cling onto something, but what? Duke doesn’t know. Hell, he’s almost scared to know, and that confuses him even more. “How do you know who I am?” It’s a simple question, but it’s spoken so quietly and hesitantly that it’s like Duke himself is unsure if he should’ve spoken at all, or if he even said it to begin with. As if, for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he managed to speak at all, or if his eyes and the way his hand shook had asked the question for him.
It’s beyond confusing, and honestly making Duke’s head hurt the more he tries to make sense of everything. The world spins, and yet zeros in on this moment at the same time, and Duke almost feels like he’s about to fall or even collapse all over again-
Then, he sees your smile and how you turn more towards him, and it’s like he can breathe all over again.
“Well, you’re adopted- or at least being taken care of by Mr. Wayne- aren’t you? It’s pretty hard to not know you, Thomas, especially in Gotham. Which- is sort of like Mr. Wayne’s little empire, don’t you think?” You respond easily, words almost playful as you carefully rest your other hand over his – most would pull away or tell him to stop because of how much it hurts, but you don’t. Almost like you can’t feel it, or just see how much the small action means to him – to hold onto something steady, unmoving, and undeniably real in this moment of confusion, dread, and fear. Maybe it’s both, but who’s to say.
Duke struggles to respond, only managing to stutter out an, “I-” a few times before you decide to spare him once more.
“Granted, I’m surprised to see you out and about so early. A growing boy like you needs his rest, doesn’t he?” Your fingers brush against the back of his hand, and it’s only then that Duke realizes that he’s feeling it on his skin, not though his gloves or suit – and he finally looks down. When… did he put on civilian clothes?
Regardless, he can’t help but ease. The tight tension in his shoulders drops, and Duke exhales, relieved. “Right- well, I was just out grabbing a quick bite to eat. Always good to get outta the house, yeah?” He replies easily, the excuse coming easy to him – and as if on cue, his stomach rumbles… Did he eat breakfast this morning? When’s the last time he’s forgotten something like that?
Your expression softens, and you give a small shrug, “‘Suppose you’re right, can’t really argue with that.” You glance down at his stomach before looking back at the teen, and pull your hand back – an action that makes Duke’s hand twitch before he lets it fall back to his side. “How about you join me?”
Duke can’t help but be taken aback by your request, and stammers a little as he straightens up and says, “I couldn’t- I can’t-”
“Oh, c’mon. It’ll just be a little bite, and besides, I’ve already got a table. Breakfast’s on me, yeah?”
“I really shouldn’t-”
“[Last Name]?” A waiter calls out, causing you to perk up.
“Ah, that must be it! Now, c’mon,” you gesture for Duke to follow you inside, “I promise I won’t keep you long. But consider this my thanks for yesterday- I definitely underestimate how big Gotham really is.”
The young vigilante hesitates, unsure if he should follow you or try to decline again. After all, he still had patrol – and with this weird group going around, he couldn’t afford to just go off and push aside his duty for breakfast, could he? In situations like this, it was best to stay on top of things and remain vigilant, wasn’t it?
Duke feels his stomach growl much more insistently this time, and he can practically feel the painful pinch of the void growing inside it… It wouldn’t be good if he did patrol on an empty stomach, would it? After all, he had to be in top shape to properly perform his duties, right? Being on an empty stomach wouldn’t do him any good, and would only hinder him further…
“You comin’, Thomas?” The teen’s feet before he could fully process your words, but he offers a nod and agreement all the same.
Bruce would understand, right?
The waiter leads you and Duke to a booth, and from there, things go smoothly. The silence isn’t as bad as one would think, and for those that didn’t know any better – they’d think you were friends or had some friendly relation since conversation flowed seamlessly and easily. It wasn’t long before your orders were made, with you encouraging Duke to order whatever he liked, and the wait was practically nonexistent. Though, that’s only to be expected when you two got along so well. It may have been weird in any other circumstance, but here, it wasn’t. It was natural, just like everything else was.
Really, only those on the outside looking in could notice anything, and someone eventually did.
Cassandra had felt that something was weird, and with how Duke’s body language had read this morning, she couldn’t help but be curious. Not to mention worried, especially since they had enough things to worry about. So, seeing her brother eating with a cop from Metropolis was… weird to say the least. It felt weirder knowing it was you for some reason, but she couldn’t explain why. You couldn’t have possibly been the reason for Duke’s excitement, could you? No, that didn’t make any sense – unless… you knew each other previously? Would Duke have left something like that out?
Just seeing something like this spawned too many questions, and Cassandra wasn’t getting any from standing across the street. Especially not when your body language reads as calm, happy, and oddly enough – full of energy, along with a trace of confidence. With Duke being almost… too happy, too calm and content for someone that was supposed to be a stranger. You were helping them on the case, of course, but they didn’t know you as civilians. They weren’t supposed to, and yet Duke didn’t have the suit on – where was it?
… She could stand there until you both left, but something told her that wasn’t going to get her anywhere either. Something told her that she had to approach, if only to confront you and get Duke out of there herself. To help him get back on track if anything, and to get some sort of explanation if she was smart about things.
So, approaching the establishment, Cassandra steps inside and wastes no time heading over to where you and Duke are sitting. Resisting the urge to just grab you by the collar and get answers out of you, she simple rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze – which is more than enough to grab your attention.
Looking up at her, a confused expression passes by before another bright smile rests and makes itself home on your face. “Ah, You must be Cain, correct? Or would you prefer Cain-Wayne?” A light laugh escapes as you add, “It’s a bit of a tongue twister, but the choice is really yours, young one.”
Surprised, Cassandra can’t help but blink before her expression hardens and he brows furrow. Taking note of her confusion, you simply say, “I haven’t been here for long, but word travels fast in Gotham! Besides, who wouldn’t know about the children Mr. Wayne has taken in? You’re all a very common topic amongst the city folk, and from your expression – I’m willing to assume you’re surprised to hear that.” There was something in your tone that made those last few words of yours almost sound sarcastic. Cassandra couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it made her narrow her eyes all the same. What were you trying to get at-?
“Cass?” Hearing Duke’s voice makes Cassandra glance at him for a moment, and the look in his eyes rubs her the wrong way. He shouldn’t have an expression like that, not for a stranger, even if you are from Metropolis. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were still… home.” The small pause in his words doesn’t slip past her, and it certainly doesn’t make Cassandra feel any better either, but it isn’t enough to make her leave.
Even as she doesn’t say anything, her eyes say enough, and you notice how Duke tenses slightly while under her gaze. You don’t understand what they’re saying, or whatever they seem to be communicating, but you’re not bothered by it. Communication was a universal thing, after all, and you’ve seen many people find all sorts of ways to do it – with or without words. It’s something you’ve picked up on with time, but that’s a given considering things.
Nevertheless, you speak up and interrupt… whatever it is that’s going on here. “Why don’t you join us, Cain? Thomas was just finishing up, but it’s like they say; the more the merrier!”
Cassandra seems taken aback by your offer, and so does Duke, but you only focus on her for now. Despite not having said a word, it’s like you can feel her growing quieter, and just as you go to say something else, she glances at Duke before promptly taking a seat next to him – nearly pushing him towards the window just to create some space for herself.
Naturally, Duke responds with a surprised, “Hey!” At the sudden intrusion of his space, but ultimately does little to get it back, and instead moves over to grant Cassandra her desired space.
From there, you carry on as you did before, but the younger ones across from you seem awkward – you can’t decipher a reason for this, not on your own, but a few eventually come to you and you try to work around it as best you can. At the start, things are strained and it’s obvious that there is something more than what both are deciding to show. Which, while smart, is inconvenient at best.
Regardless, you do what you can to spark conversation. Duke responds well enough after a few questions that ease him back into the flow of things, but Cassandra takes a while longer. Though that only makes sense since she’s just gotten into things, and is only starting to get into that flow as well. It’s not hard to notice that she’s simply just observing for now, and most likely wants to keep it that way, but you didn’t make that offer for her to just watch.
You start with something to drink, offering coffee since that seemed to be a common choice around here, and even take a sip of your own beverage while you were at it, and ask if Duke wanted anything else. It’s always the little things that count, but of course Cassandra remains as she is, and doesn’t respond. It’s only after a good minute or so does she get something, though if it’s to ‘blend in’ easier or because she genuinely wanted something to drink, you couldn’t tell – but that didn’t matter. Eventually, she gives you small responses by nodding or shaking her head, among other small gestures that seem to give just enough information to count as some sort of reaction. Cassandra was responding and reacting more to things Duke was saying, but that didn’t bother you. She was beginning to ease up, and that’s what ultimately counts.
Then, you’re given a golden opportunity as her stomach gives a small rumble. It’s barely noticeable, and not even Duke hears it, but Cassandra does and you notice her reaction well enough to tell. Of course, you give her the same offer you gave to Duke earlier – and even if she is more hesitant and reluctant, you take a risk and push things as you get her something. Just as before, the wait is hardly long at all – even if Cassandra seemed to feel it more than you did – and when it comes, it takes her a bit to even poke at it, but she caves eventually.
From there, everything eases just as it did before. Whatever you picked, she ends up liking it, and the conversation flows much better now that Cassandra is less tense. Your smile from before remains, and the morning carries on splendidly.
However, as with all things, it eventually comes to an end as you get a notification on your mobile device, and a small huff escapes you. Things are coming along, but it’s time to call it – you’ve been here long enough. You signal for the check, and once it arrives, you simply say, “Well this has been nice, hasn’t it? I don’t know what I expected, but I’m pleasantly surprised by both of you. This has been… eye opening, as one would say,” you muse, another light laugh escaping you, “but I’ve kept you both for long enough. I’m sure you both have places to be.” You don’t even look as the waiter takes the check back after you slip on your Rose Bank card.
Duke seems to tense slightly, and stops you from standing as he shoots up from his seat, “Wait, do you have to go right now? If there’s anywhere you need to go, I could take you-” You wave him off, and shake your head.
“There’s no need, I know my way around well enough, but thank you-” Cassandra moves to stand as well, and before she can even fully get out, Duke scrambles to get out of the booth and stand in front of you.
“You just got here a bit ago, right? I’m sure I can still help-”
“Thomas, I assure you I’m fine. I’m just heading back to the station,” you handle the check and slip your card back into your wallet when the waiter comes back around. Duke struggles to speak, and Cassandra seems concerned. Hm.
Exhaling softly, you give the teen a pat on his shoulder, “If anything happens, remember, you can always contact the GCPD if need be, alright?” Duke didn’t seem too pleased with that response, but all it takes is one more long look before he averts his gaze and nods.
“Yeah, yeah… alright.” You grin, and give him another pat.
“Perfect! See you around, kid!” With that, you leave without a second thought, feeling more confident then before – and Cassandra could tell. Of course she could, but before she could think about why you were going to the station this early in the day, her eyes drift back to Duke, and she can’t help but pause. His body language and overall attitude is completely different now… but… why? What could have made him so upset?
The young vigilante glances up when she hears the small bell of the door, indicating your leave… and she doesn’t know why, but she can’t help but feel disappointed.
— — — — — —
Making your way to the station is easy enough, and as you check the time, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Just in time.
You turn around, and are greeted by the sight of blue eyes and dark hair – honestly, if his face shape was different, you’d think he was Bruce. It’s almost weird that they aren’t biologically related, but that’s the funny thing about genetics, you suppose.
Nevertheless, you offer a smile as always, “I got your call, but I didn’t expect to be meeting you in Gotham this soon, Grayson. You really are punctual. Though noon is an odd time to meet up, don’t you think?” Richard – or as everyone apparently calls him, Dick – just gives a smile of his own that borders on a smirk, and shrugs nonchalantly.
“Couldn’t think of a better time, and besides, it isn’t that bad. It’s just in time for lunch!” You hum at his response, finding it a bit curious before giving a nod.
“Well, when you put it like that it almost sounds smart,” You chuckle out, watching as his face contorts slightly. “Regardless, I got your call. You wanted to discuss the case?”
Dick doesn’t seem to appreciate your little jab, nor how you brush past it so fast – but just huffs before giving a nod. “Yeah, some guys said you’d know some things…? Or that someone here did?” You raise a brow before a look of confusion settles on your face.
“A few of us here do, but the one that would know the most would be detective Greenwood,” yet, you pause, as if thinking for a moment before adding, “I assume the situation in Bludhaven has gotten worse?”
The sigh that escapes him is telling enough, even more so with how he rubs the back of his neck, and the nod he gives is almost guilty. “Yeah… and even saying that feels like you’re sugar coating it.” Hm, must be like Metropolis then – that’s good to know. “I guess Ludwig told you?”
“Among a few other things, but just gave a general idea,” Dick visibly deflates at your words, and so, as if extending an olive branch of sorts, you gesture to a cafe nearby. “How about we get you some coffee and a quick bite to eat, hm? Can’t imagine getting here was an easy trip.”
Dick’s practically already following you to the small shop when you make your offer, and a low, exaggerated groan escapes him. “You don’t even know the half of it, it’s like Gotham’s become some highly sought out tourist destination overnight! It’s insanity, I tell you- makes no sense! The people who live here don’t like it enough as it is, why would anyone else want to be here?”
You shrug your shoulders, and guide both of you over to the cafe, “Not a clue, but it is weird when you put it like that. But maybe it’s nothing, who knows? We’ve got enough to deal with, anyway.”
“Tell me about it… not like there's anyone around here that wants to deal with this kind of weather. It feels way too warm for fall, if you ask me.” Dick mumbles, making his way over to the counter to order, and you only partially shrug, giving another nod in half agreement. You didn’t feel a difference, but it could just be because you’re used to it.
“I guess so,” you say, pulling out your wallet to pay – seeing as you offered to begin with. Obviously, Dick notices and doesn’t move to stop you, but can’t help but raise a brow.
“Aren’t you going to get anything?”
You glance at him for a moment before huffing softly, almost as if amused by what he said, and just hand the cashier your Rose Bank card to pay.
“I had a filling brunch.”
— — — — — — — — — — — —
Despite everything that’s been going on, this is probably one of their more organized efforts to tackle the night – which is really saying something, since there’s always been attempts, but it’s hard to be orderly amidst chaos. Something that Gotham practically breeds, even if this particular strain comes from out of town.
Tim and Duke are in the manor running tests on the organic material Stephanie and Jason had managed to get from the other night, with Barbara doing similar work in the clock tower. The others are out in the city, with Bruce running some things by Gordon, Selina being god knows where, and the others tracking some shipment while taking care of minor crimes and such along the way.
It’s almost… weird how coordinated this ‘cult’ seems to be, not to mention just how many people seem to be in on this thing. There didn’t seem to be an exact number at the moment, and if they really did split up, then there may even be more members that they weren’t aware of that have taken refuge outside of Gotham-
Point is, there were definitely a lot of people in this cult. Maybe even too many to coordinate and organize, at least for them to work so in sync with one another as they were now. It’d make more sense if they were only in Gotham, but until they got Clark’s report, no one could be sure of that – even if Dick responding so readily when Bruce had called him in was telling enough on its own. There was also the possibility of there being multiple organizers and leaders for this, which seems like the obvious choice, but even so – who could get a system in place that works this smoothly? It’s almost unnatural. Uncanny, even. Not to mention it doesn’t make sense if there’s no incentive for these people to be doing all of this-
Tim couldn’t figure it out, anyway. It felt like there was still so much they didn’t know yet, and like one thing was happening right after the other. Despite not being out in the city himself, he could use his birds as his eyes to see outside while he remained in the cave – so, in a way he was also tracking the cult. What Tim found weird himself is that you didn’t think the cult had a proper name, or that they weren’t called after the event all of these groups seem to be working towards. It made the most logical sense that they would be, or at least something similar to it – but you, someone who's been working on this case longer than anyone they knew at the moment, disagreed. Why? Regardless, aside from this supposed ‘Red Dawn’, what incentive did… well, anyone have to be a part of the cult to begin with? Did the event itself grant them something? What even was the Red Dawn? What did it have to do with all this soil and sand?
There were too many questions and not enough answers, but he supposes that’s why they’re even investigating to begin with. Though, if Tim had a say in this – it feels too organized to be something that only started three or so days ago. Have they really only been in Gotham for just a couple of days? If what his birds are seeing is real, then it’s more likely that they’ve been here for months-
[“Oh, would you look at that? They split again. Geez, really makes you wonder why they’re moving this stuff around like this. Seems ssseriously inefficient if you ask me.” Jason’s voice sparks in the commlink, tone sarcastic and rough.]
[“Agreed, there hardly seems to be a purpose to such tactics.” Damian huffs, going quiet for a moment only to add, “Unless they really are trying to distract us.”]
Tim perks up at this, and uses a nearby bird to perch on top of one of the telephone lines that go across the street. Watching as the next load of… whatever this cult was hauling and bringing around, drives off down the street. Some of it in a truck, and the other half of it in various cars. Not exactly subtle, but it would be hard to keep track of it all if one person was trying to keep tabs on things. Especially if said person was human.
[“Gonna have to agree with you guys, these people… they’re doing something, alright.” Stephanie chimes in, the suspicion clear in her voice.]
“What does that mean?” Tim can’t help but ask, trying to focus on the sample he’s analyzing, but can’t help but focus more on what his birds are seeing – especially when it’s more interesting the shuffling through samples of dirt.
[Stephanie sighs, “Seems like they’re trying to spread this stuff all around. Parks, gardens, bakeries, flower shops- all kinds of places, and from the looks of things? Whatever they’re doing here, it’s getting to other civilians as well. Guards and employees are helping them, and not just to open the back door either.”]
[“Someone open the front door?” Jason asks rhetorically.]
[Stephanic stiffs a chuckle, but Cassandra responds with a curt, “Yes. And storage.”]
[Jason was quiet for a moment before a small, “... Right, ‘course they did.”]
With his birds, Tim is able to follow as many trails as he can – and upon noticing a particularly weird detail, his brows furrow. “They… looped back around.”
[“Yep, I see them. Right back at the gardens… weird.” Stephanie confirms, sounding equally confused.]
[“They’re obviously trying to play us, but why? So they can plant more of this… red shit everywhere?” Jason can’t help but question.]
Tim shakes his head, which the closest bird to Jason and Damian emulates, “No, that doesn’t make sense. They’ve got loads of this stuff all over Gotham- I don’t see why they’d need more, unless…” He grows quiet, thinking for a moment before he looks down at the sample he’s supposed to be examining. Were they thinking of this the wrong way?
[“Unless… what?” Stephanie asks.]
He tries to think of a way to explain it, fumbling for a moment before just saying, “Well, do we even know what this stuff does?”
[“That’s what we have you looking at it for, yeah? Shouldn’t you or Barbara, or hell- even Duke know?” Jason chips in again.]
[Damian sucks his teeth, “Of course you can’t even do the one job we actually give you, Drake.”]
Tim can practically feel the disdain in Damian’s voice as he says his last name, which makes his brow twitch – but he shakes it off. He tries to, at least.
“I’m trying! I just… don’t know what I’m looking at, or why, okay? This whole situation is… weird.”
[“Look, Tim, people… people died over this stuff. There’s gotta be something weird about it. Maybe weird chemicals or…?” Stephanie tries to suggest.]
The watcher huffs at the reminder, but ultimately relents as he gives it another look while still having his birds keep tabs on things. All he sees is the same thing, and as he increases the magnification on the microscope, he only finds himself growing more… confused. More weirded out than anything, and a little curious, sure, but confused all the same.
Leaning back, he takes a breath, “I don’t understand, it looks alien… but how can that even be possible?”
[“We work with aliens, is it really that strange, Drake?”]
“I know that- but this is like- different! The organisms in the dirt are being taken over by something- and it’s like it’s both trying to take over and adapt to it?”
[“Like… a parasite trying to get used to its host?”]
“Kind of? It’s hard to explain… and this substance in the dirt- no wonder some of it looks like sand…”
[“So, instead of ‘getting used to’ the host, it’s killing it.” Jason suggests.]
“Yeah, like it can’t adapt properly or… is valuing infection over adaptation. It seems to feed on organic material and create more- but there’s something weird about it too.”
[“... And that is?”]
Tim hesitates for a moment, unsure himself, before eventually just putting the idea out there. “Well, at this pace… if their plan is for it to infect all the organic material in Gotham for whatever reason, then this is a seriously inefficient way to do it. Their plan here isn’t to have this stuff in all the dirt - at least, not to change it all. It seems more like a byproduct of whatever they’re trying to do with it.”
[“Well, what’s in the dirt, Tim?” Stephanie asks.]
“That’s the thing- I have no idea. It’s like its own organism, but I haven’t seen anything like this. It’s completely alien, and I doubt it’s the friendly kind.”
[“Well- I have to agree with you there. If it was… well, who knows how this would go. But nothing about all of this particularly screams ‘friendly’.”]
[“Did the people shooting themselves give that away?” Jason sarcastically quips.]
[“The purposefully suspicious activity certainly doesn’t help.” Damian adds, sounding equally pleased.]
Tim zones out of the conversation, glancing back at the samples Jason and Stephanie were able to bring in that he hasn’t fully looked at yet. The samples themselves don’t seem to ‘decay’ necessarily, and it seems to take them a while to eat away at the dirt or sand they’ve been ‘mixed’ with – from the looks of things, anyway.
No, if anything it gives the impression of a substance trying to reach homeostasis. Since, it’s either that or it’s trying to revert back to it’s original state for… whatever reason. Whatever other material it produces in that process is simply a byproduct of its efforts. The real question is why. Why is it trying to change? Why is it working to do… whatever it’s trying to do?
Mindlessly, Tim’s blank eyes drift over to where Duke was sitting, only to pause.
The teenager was hunched over, entirely focused on the task at hand – and whereas that isn’t inherently a bad thing, Duke hardly seems to be breathing, like the smallest gust of air or wind will tamper with the sample so much. Taking too much precaution when it comes to treating it. Not like it’s dangerous, but like it’s precious, like handling something more fragile than glass.
The sight alone makes Tim feel unnerved, and as his senses heighten – its only then does he pick up on the faintest smell. What… what is that-?
[“Oh shit- we’ve got to bounce. Now-!”]
[“Agreed. How did you even manage to-?”]
[“Let’s save the questions for when we’re out of the burning warehouse.”]
Tim blinks, eyes blowing wide as he looks away from Duke and focuses back on what’s going on. Using one of his birds, he can see that a warehouse is, in fact, on fire – and it is growing fast. “Steph-”
[“Already made the call, fire department is on the way but- how in the world did you guys even manage to set the whole place on fire?”]
[“Don’t lump me in with this brainless brute-” Damian’s complaint is cut off.]
[“I didn’t even expect the stuff to catch that fast! Just- ugh,” Jason groans, the subtle sound of the warehouse coming apart is just barely audible through the comlink. “Do everyone a favor, and keep those samples away from fire. That shit lights faster than propane.”]
“Even if it spreads quickly, how did the fire get strong that fast?!”
[“Hell if I know! You said this crap is alien, right? How is anyone supposed to figure it’d have so much kick!?”]
“You knew it could set on fire?!”
[“Last I checked, dirt isn’t flammable- of COURSE I DIDN’T KNOW!”]
[“Guys! Just- focus on getting out of there! We can figure out all of this once we regroup. Meet me and Cass at the station. We need to tell Bruce about this.”]
Tim glances at Duke once again, who’s hand twitches slightly, and the watcher grows quiet before looking back at his own sample.
… Could this night get any weirder?
— — — — – – – – – – — – – –
Eventually, towards the heart of the night, Bruce is able to reach the batcave once more, and everyone recounts what they found or learned – minus certain individuals.
The discussion is as chaotic as one would imagine, but the main points get across eventually, albeit between suspicions a few of them had, and more speculation on what could be going on. The biggest question is why this group had chosen Gotham of all places, if they really have been here recently or have been in the city for longer, who Tim and Cass were able to identify as members of the cult, and so on.
Whoever was organizing this was clearly doing something to the people following them. How perfect everything seemed to flow without their presence was uncanny and unnatural, not to mention how readily members have killed themselves without a hint of hesitation. Honestly, it was terrifying – and the fact there was still so much left unknown wasn’t helping. Not knowing who was behind this, or at least in charge of the group in Gotham was setting them back – and the risk of confrontation was too high. There was no telling if they’d dispose of themself just as quickly as the other members of the cult, but that was assuming there even were other leaders in place.
They certainly had their influencers and people who brought in more members into their cult, but for some reasons… most of the vigilantes had a feeling that there wasn’t. That there was just one person in control – the lack of evidence on that end didn’t help, but they sort of just knew. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to fully dismiss anything, even if some of them were pretty set on a couple of things. Duke, Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra in particular. Bruce was… well, himself, but he seemed to have his mind set as well even if he left the door open for possibilities.
If this was really alien, who knows what they’re dealing with – and if what Clark said earlier was true, then it’s definitely mind altering, at the very least. Though, that did pose another question entirely about you and the cops that came in from Metropolis.
Were any of you under the influence of this… alien substance?
They weren’t given much time to dwell on that as something pops up on the batcomputer – a notification of sorts. “Ah, must be Clark.” Bruce mumbles, already working on displaying and finding out all the information Clark had gathered.
A map of the United States first flashes onto the many screens, before red dots begin to appear on the map. Like little fairy lights, they flicker on, and don’t stop until it looks like the country has got the bad case of chickenpox. Then, it zooms out, showing the whole world map, and more dots appear. They’re sparse in some areas compared to others, but the message is made clear enough.
Yet, before anyone could fully digest even the point Clark was trying to make, the funniest thing happens.
The dots begin to move. They weren’t just markers, they were trackers.
Some move faster than others, all of them blinking for a moment before shifting, showing their movement. There aren’t any labels, but the direction seems to be clear enough. Especially as the map zooms back into the United States, and shows the movement there a little more clearly.
On the East Coast, all of the dots closest to there seem to be moving towards two cities in particular – but before it can be shown where they are clearly moving towards, the power cuts. The batcave is swallowed by darkness, and the vigilante family is left in complete darkness for a few moments. The cave being the most dark any of them have seen it, and the silence near deafening.
It doesn’t take long for the lights to flicker back on, but they have the oddest shade of pink, and as everything powers back on – the ventilation is still paused, and something else has taken place of the map on the batcomputer – it’s taken over every screen even remotely connected to the advanced computer, actually.
A red solar eclipse with a timer right on the bottom, counting down. No explanation, nothing aside from the eclipse and countdown.
There’s no way someone in the cult could’ve got into the system, and especially not tonight when they were all on high alert and keeping an eye on them! It wasn’t possible, the security in the cave and manor would’ve been enough to stop anyone from getting in, or at least notified any of them if someone had gotten in. Hell, Damian’s sense and trigger would have alerted him if anyone had so much as stepped onto the property that wasn’t supposed to be there. There are too many precautions put into place for this to happen – and for the sight to stay on screen as well.
That didn’t leave many possibilities, and it was less about the why and more about how this could even happen. Which, amongst the options to shift through… with the threat they were dealing with here, only one seemed to stick out and seemed the most plausible.
There was a traitor among them.
#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#yandere dc x reader#yandere x gn reader#gn reader#yandere batfamily#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere duke thomas#yandere cassandra cain#yandere dick grayson#the red dawn
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can you write a tim bradford angst fic pleaSe? something like along the lines of him and the reader are married and she comes from a line of cops ( kinda like blue bloods) and he has an affair with lucy? super angsty!! thank you!!! ☺️
ignorance isn’t always bliss// tim bradford x reader
warnings: swearing, violence, police stuff, mentions of guns, cheating, #nobetawedielikethisrelationship
a/n: requests are open! THANK YOU anon for this one!! and HAPPY NEW YEARS! <3
There had been signs. Some subtle, some so obvious that by ignoring them—by not following them you wondered if you should quit your job and pull a John-Nolan and work construction (if not following in his footsteps, you should’ve consulted him at least. John Nolan was a big talker and somewhere inside all of those words was always solid, sometimes maddening, advice. Maybe if you had asked him things would’ve ended differently) Hey, or maybe you could be a farmer! Work at a call centre, as a barista, as a banker, a hostess, literally any occupation that didn’t involve uncovering the truth. The truth that you were trying so hard to ignore.
You ignored it when your husband started “working late” even when Sergeant Grey had no recollection of the case he stayed late working on. Even when his late night scouring of casefiles was done with his Rookie, Lucy Chen. But… that was okay. Lucy was like a sister to you. When she needed a place to stay you had convinced Tim to let her crash on your couch–maybe that was where it all went wrong, maybe it was your fault, you who had planted the seed that tore your family apart. You ignored how he kissed you less, how you had less to talk about. You even ignored when your brother Charles looked at you with pity having overheard rumours you insisted were just that–rumours.
You ignored it when Tim came home smelling like a perfume that wasn’t yours. When that perfume was one you’ve smelt in the workplace before; one belonging to a coworker you considered a friend.
Your friend, your husband.
It was all so surreal.
Labels didn’t mean much, you learned that quickly. A friend could betray you, so could a husband. The badge didn’t always mean honour, not outside of your family at least.
You ignored a lot… but you could only be so oblivious.
Your breaking point was unexpected. It came on a monday. Tim had the day off because he’d been working night shifts and you had gotten off early, hoping to patch up some things by cooking your husband a nice meal–one of his favourites.
“Baby, I’m home! I grabbed some groceries, going to make lasagna for dinner, I think.” You shoulder through the doors and Kojo bounds over to you, barking. He wags his tail happily and you bend down and scratch the space between his ears. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” You step past him and hear a noise. Is someone… what? Suddenly your off duty weapon is unholstered, you lift the gun up as you clear the house, room by room. There’s no one in the living room, no one in the kitchen. You start down the hallway, pushing doors open and looking inside. No one in the bathroom, no one in the guest room. That leaves one room. Your bedroom. The noises grow louder. You hear rustling, hushed voices. Frantic movements. You’re hoping; honestly you’re praying that someone has broken in. Anything but what you’ve come to expect. “Tim?” you call, “is that you?”
No answer. Of course there’s no answer. You take a deep breath, the cool metal of the doorknob closed in your hand. You twist it and push into the room. Tim’s standing at the end of the bed, facing you and the open door. He’s shirtless, his hair is messed up and there’s remnants of lipstick at the corner of his mouth.
You don’t wear lipstick. You haven’t since your last date night. The one so long ago the details are fuzzy.
Tim drags his hand across his face again while the other flies to the back of his neck. “Y/n…” he looks guilty and you know what he’s going to say, you just… you don’t know if you can hear it. If you’re ready to–if you’ll ever be ready to. You feel a strange tightness in your chest. It hurts, it really does.
You’ve been wounded in the line of duty before. You didn’t expect to be wounded in your own home. Not by the man who's supposed to love you wholly.
In sickness and in health–you laugh. Tim could stand by his ex wife, Isabel, all through her addiction but he couldn’t stand by you. “What…” you choke, “what did I do?” there had to be something you were missing; some catastrophic way you had messed up and ruined everything.
“You didn’t do anything.”
Your eyes dart around. The room that you and Tim shared. The room that held so many memories—all tainted, now. The sheets are messed up, there’s clothes on the floor. A bra, panties, neither yours. Your gun clatters to the ground and the safety’s on, thankfully. Not that you’d care. Some physical hurt would pair with the emotional kind nicely–distract from it if you were lucky.
You were far from lucky.
Eyes watering, hands shaking, you raise them to keep distance between you and Tim. He’s approaching like you’re some feral animal he’s afraid to startle. “It’s not what it looks like.”
You laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “It is though, Tim. It really is.” You shake your head back and forth, not understanding. “Why—why couldn’t you have just asked for a… a divorce? Why did you have to go and…” Tears run down your cheeks. You wipe them away frantically feeling embarrassed—you knew this was coming. You knew what was going to happen so why did your heart feel like it was shattering? “Why did you have to cheat on me?”
“It wasn’t planned… I wouldn’t… You have to believe me, it was a mistake.”
“No, no. A mistake is forgetting to change over the laundry. A mistake is not taking out the trash. This… this isn’t a mistake.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/n.”
“Do you love her?”
He didn’t say a thing.
“Do you love her?!” you screamed.
“I… I don’t know.”
An ‘I don’t know’. He threw everything away over an ‘I don’t know’.
Tim took a step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you flinched away. His face twisted with desperation but a flicker of understanding was there too– you didn’t want him to understand. You didn’t know how he could.
"I never meant for this to happen. I got confused, I—"
"Don’t." Your eyes were full of tears you refused to let loose. "Don't lie to me. You’ve done enough. You chose her after… after all we’ve been through. You, me, my family.”
“I never believed the marriage trap cops fall into. When my buddies wouldn’t come to our wedding because it was my first?” You laugh bitterly, “cliches are cliches for a reason, I guess!”
The sadness morphs slowly, turning into a building rage. “Where is she?” You march over to the bed, flipping the duvet up onto the mattress and peering underneath. “Not under the bed!” the curtains are the next to go, “not behind the curtains!”
“Y/n, you need to calm down,”
You laugh, feeling manic as you rip the curtains down. Light pours into the room but today is anything but bright. The last spot you check is the closet and there she is. Lucy Chen stares at you from behind the sweaters hanging in your closet. Lucy Chen. Lucy mother fucking Chen. Like a sister to you and… you laugh. “You know what—“ your voice breaks, “you can have him! And while you’re at it take some of my fucking clothes,” her face is bright red, her eyes wide and regretful? You don’t care. You can’t find it in you to.
Her hands are the only thing covering her body. You can’t breathe–she’s your friend and she was sleeping with your husband. Your husband! You start throwing things. Your clothes, the hangers they’re on, your shoes, “have these too!” you shout. You pick up a book preparing to launch it at her and then your hands are being forced behind your back as you scream and spit and curse. Tear tracks are prominent and maybe you are a feral animal because you don’t even hear the words whispered to you as cuffs click onto your wrists and you’re taken down to the station.
“I want a lawyer!” you scream and he appears. Lopez’s husband, (not a cheater! You refuse to speak to another one of those) Wesley Evers, approaches you with a frown on his face and his brows crinkled in confusion.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re not pressing charges,” Tim says, “she just needs to calm down… she assaulted officer Chen and–”
“What the hell is going on?!” Wesley’s question is repeated in a booming voice and this time, it’s your father asking. The chief of police is standing in the middle of the hallway glaring daggers at Tim Bradford, the man he used to go golfing and to get coffee with. He storms over. “Why is my daughter under arrest? Talk, Bradford. Now.”
“Sir, I… maybe it’s best that we talk somewhere else.”
People are staring. Colleagues, civilians waiting to file complaints.
You smile. Sweet, fake, heartbroken. “We’re getting a divorce, dad. He cheated on me with Chen… I… Tim, you said you aren’t pressing charges so let me go, okay? We’re done, this is all done.” Tim passes the keys to your dad who unlocks the cuffs. Wesley still hasn’t managed to slink away so you turn to him. “I need a divorce lawyer. Are you multi-talented or do you know someone? I don’t care about the house, he can have it, but I want Kojo–our dog.”
“You can’t–”
“Officer Bradford I’m going to recommend you leave,” says your dad, ever the diplomat. “Take the day off, get out of my precinct.”
“Yes sir.”
“It’s Chief.”
“Yes Chief.”
Then Tim’s gone, the cuffs are off, and you’re being led into your fathers office. He lectures you because you’re a cop and you’re held to a higher standard because you wear the badge. He lectures you because you’re better than this and because you should know better. But after all of that he hugs you. He holds you while you cry and tighter, when you tell him, still sobbing, “I’m pregnant, dad.”
#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford#tim bradford x you#tim bradford x reader#the rookie fanfic#the rookie x reader
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where my whole heart stays
note : this is really really not planned out and kinda sucky dw about it I had a vision and this is the result also there is like no dialogue
wc : 1.9k
tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis
desc : funerals and drunk confessions. friends to lovers (??), angst, major character death, not proofread, ID!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader
Some of the first memories that Leon has of you have been the memories that have given him the most comfort over the years.
He met you back in the first grade, the two of you had assigned seats next to each other, you traded crayons, lunch, toys, you even traded shoes one time. An excited handshake was what solidified your friendship, he’d always be over at your house, you’d beg your mom to let him stay for another hour when he should’ve already been back home thirty minutes ago.
You were there for his families funeral in the third grade, the officer that saved him sat up in the front row of the church with him while he sobbed into the man’s side. Leon can’t remember how many people were at the funeral, he knows it was a few of his parents friends and some neighbors, but he remembers that you were there.
Your parents dressed you up in this black dress, not really funeral fitting, more like what you’d wear to a school concert, you had these shiny black shoes to match and switched out the tiny hoop earrings you wore everyday for small, white studs. You sat in the back of the church, you didn’t fallow along with any of the prayers or hymns sung, but the few times that Leon looked over his shoulder, you were always looking at him.
Leon still doesn’t remember the day of the funeral all that well, not that he thinks about it a lot, the only thing he can really remember that doesn’t make his chest squeeze up is how you ran up to him once everything was over and hugged him.
Leon hid away with you under one of the tables, sharing cookies and slices of salami off of a paper plate, you spilled your root beer and almost got it all over your dress. He doesn’t remember the song that was playing at dinner, but he taps his foot to the little bits that dug their way into his brain. He remembers that you hugged him once more before your parents decided it was time to go and he cried into the nape of your neck, you told him you’d see him at school on Monday.
Life carried on, Leon didn’t talk to you a lot about the funeral. You always have him a look in quiet moments, like if he wanted to talk, you wouldn’t stop him. You thought it was cool that he wanted to be a cop, you told him it was fitting, that was back when you were ten.
When the two of you were in your freshman year of high school, your parents split and you only hung out with Leon every other weekend. Sometimes Leon would come to see you on weekends when you were away, or at the very least he’d call.
He still had sleep-overs with you, you’d sleep in your bed and he’d be on your bedroom floor, the door would be wide open and you’d whisper to him at night about what you’d do after high school.
One time after a school dance he came back to your house and you stole your moms whiskey after she went to bed, you said you’d done it before, Leon lied and said that it wasn’t his first time drinking. Leon’s not quite sure, but he thinks he fell for you that night. He’d known he liked you before that night, boys do that when they spend years around a pretty girl, but that night when the two of you got drunk you told him you loved him.
Leon forgets a lot of things, like what the context for your “I love you” was, but it stuck with him. He pretended to forget it the next morning even though you didn’t bring it up, he also can’t remember if you kissed him or not.
School dances, sleep-overs, breakfasts with your mom, the passenger seat of your car, it all became a memory for Leon after the two of you graduated. You kept in touch after high school, you’d always talk about how badly you wanted to see him when you came home for the summer since you moved a few states away for college.
The last time he saw you was the summer of 1998, before Raccoon City. After that the calls lessened, he wasn’t really allowed to talk to you, but he’d call you every once in a while as he choked back tears.
But he’s back now, just not for a reason either of you really wanted.
Leon followed the local news of your town even as he was being carted around the world to fight unimaginable things, when he saw that your mom had passed he knew it was time to come home.
You look so different than you did when he last saw you, not seeing someone for eight years tends to lead to changes. You don’t look the same as you did when you came to his families funeral when you were eight, either.
The way you’re dressed makes you look more mature, it’s more professional than school concert-y. And it’s pretty, too.
You made Leon go sit up in the front row with you during the funeral, you held onto his hand so tightly when you asked him if he’d sit with you that he couldn’t even stomach turning you down. He held you just as tight when you finally sat down, his right arm was wrapped around your shoulder and he held your left hand in his lap with his own.
You didn’t go up to speak, you handed the speech you had prepared to your dad and curled back into Leon’s side.
You stayed curled into him for the rest of the night, even when people began leaving the bar or coming up to you to offer their condolences, you didn’t let go of Leon.
Even as he’s leaving, you’re still chasing him.
“Where are you going?” You’re trailing behind him, hanging onto the sleeve of his suit as he heads to the bars exit.
“I told you, I gotta go, it’s urgent.” He couldn’t get time off of work to save his life, the agency is always finding something for him to take care of. You’re tipsy, and you’re clingy, he’d call himself clingy too, but he doesn’t have the option to stay.
“But where?”
“It’s work,”
“Leon, please.” You grip Leon’s shoulders and he stops, standing just beside the door. He puts a hand on your waist and you melt into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you for coming today.” You whisper, he moves his hand from your waist to rest both on your back.
“Yeah, of course.” Leon mumbled against your hair, running one of his hands up and down your spine.
“I missed you,” The way your breath fans over his neck makes him shiver. He whispers the same thing back to you, you giggle. “When’re you gonna be back in town?”
“I’m not sure, work keeps me busy.” You sigh when he tells you that, you nuzzle into his shoulder.
“Just… Just call me when you’re around, okay?”
“Okay,” He squeezes your waist and pulls back a tiny bit to look at you. “I gotta go now.”
“Please don’t.”
“I…” Leon opens his mouth and closes it again for a second or two before speaking. “I have to, I’m sorry.” You sniffle, his hands come up to cup your face and wipe your teary eyes. “I’ll call you, I will.”
“Okay,” You let go of him for only a second before you lean back in to kiss his cheek, then a few more before you kiss the corner of his mouth, he would've kissed you back if he had had a second longer to think. “I- I’ll see you later, love you.”
You pull back fully, turning away to let him leave.
“… Yeah.”
—
When it was finally your turn to have a funeral of your own, Leon sat in the back of the church, your dad had offered him a seat in the front row, but he turned it down. He wasn't family, wasn't your husband.
All he could think back to was your mom's funeral, with him holding you tightly as you sobbed into his chest, the way you clung to him the whole night. Leon has nothing to hold onto now except the wrinkled tissue in his hand, he's not sure how to handle this. He's lost plenty of people in his life, but this is worse. You were supposed to outlive him because you lived a normal life that he so badly wanted to share with you, at least you had kept in touch, that's the only thing that was normal for him.
Over the ten years that passed he made seeing you and calling you a need-to. He'd call once or twice a month and fly out to visit you maybe once or twice a year, it doesn't seem like a lot, but it was enough.
You always seemed so happy to see him, whether it was over the phone or in person, you clung onto every word. His time with you gave him glimpses into the life he could've had, you'd make him breakfast on the first morning of his visits, then he'd cook for you for the rest of the week, you'd stay up late watching movies together like you were back in high school.
Leon couldn't quite describe what kind of drunk you were, clingy, maybe. But he'd grown to repeat your "I love you"'s back to you when the two of you were drinking.
The last time he had seen you was three months ago, he never told you too much about his job, and if he did it was a lie, but he really just wanted to hear you talk about your life. You told him about your promotion and how you were going to renovate your house or something, Leon just told you his work had been the same as always.
You seemed so happy, even when you reached out for his hand and held onto it while you sat at the table eating dinner together, it made Leon feel like he was supposed to be there.
Your funeral had been lovely, Leon just wishes he was back home under different circumstances.
And even when it's over, and he's sitting at the bar nursing a whiskey and not speaking unless spoken to, all he can think about is you. He always thought you were too good for him, what he never wanted to think about was you at his own funeral. There were things he never told you and things you never told him, at least when you were sober, maybe he'll find some old yearbook with a confession written in it when he goes to clean out your house with your dad.
Then there's that song. That song that played during dinner after his parents funeral, where you and him sat under the table and hid from the other guests. He hasn't heard it in years, he certainly doesn't remember the name of the words, he remembers how you bopped your head to it, though.
Leon figures it's time to go once the song is over, he downs the last of his whiskey and turns the glass cup upside down as he stands, at least he knows you loved him when drunk.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#resident evil#resident evil x reader
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messy // john b routledge
request: Would love to do a request if your taking? You know the bonfire scene where John b and Sarah were broken up and she came with topper and saw John b with another girl and a fight ended up happening where the girl pushed Sarah and John b was yelling crying for her name can we do that with y/n and John b but instead of the fight with him and topper we do a fight with y/n and the girl John b was with and the girl ends up pushing y/n which has John b going crazy and in protective mode and y/n got really hurt by that push from that small clif
pairing: john b routledge x cameron!reader (she/her)
warnings: the usual obx angst and violence, ooc rafe cameron (BRING ME PROTECTIVE RAFE WOOO), injuries
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--
Boneyard Bonfires are well known in the OBX but not for the reasons they should be. More often than not (a couple years in a row now), fights and arguments broke out between the two halves of the island which usually caused the hangout to end early.
You definitely weren’t planning on attending considering things between you and John B were rough right now. Still reeling from the previous events of the week, you just wanted some space to comprehend the loss your family was facing right now. You didn’t mean to make him upset or to put a wrench in your relationship, but John B was less than happy when you told him you were heading back to Tannyhill to find comfort in your brother and sisters.
The news of Ward’s death traveled fast, but it felt like everything had stood still for your family. Despite being adopted before you could even remember, Ward and Rose had raised you, and your heart was still broken even after all of the horrible things he’d done to you and your friends. It wasn’t fair to have so many mixed emotions and still push yourself to be around John B when he was busy celebrating a loss that hit you hard.
“You okay?” The soft tone of concern in Rafe’s voice was surprising as you glanced over your shoulder where he was approaching. You were standing out by the dock, eyes on the slow-moving water. The same dock that had been full of cops and your friends only a few days ago.
“Fine,” You mumbled. He pulled you close, arms warm as he held you to his chest like it would protect you from the cruel reality. Rafe completely shut down when the yacht exploded, like all anger had left his body and was replaced with sorrow and fear of the unknown. For so long, Ward had fixed everything for him, and Rafe had been hit with the hard truth that it would no longer happen. Like a flipped switch, he went from an irresponsible party kid to a protective older brother. The one you remembered most growing up, the version you’d missed for so long.
“Did you talk to John B?”
You shook your head slightly. “No, not since yesterday.”
Rafe had tried to stop you from going to find John B yesterday, begging you not to leave him. You hadn’t seen raw emotion out of your brother like that in so long that it scared you, so you let Rafe drive you to your boyfriend’s house to have the honest conversation that needed to happen.
“Hey,” You whispered quietly as you walked down the dock to where John B was sitting.
“Hey.” John B looked up and stood from his seat to join you on the floor of the dock closer to the water.
You sniffled, tugging your knees to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them. Every nerve of your body screamed to run and hide from this nightmare, wishing it would just disappear from view and spare the pain.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” John B’s fingers were warm as the rested on your knee, his other hand gently grabbing your cheek to brush away tears, a small gasp leaving your lips at the action. You’d cried so, so much in these past few hours that it was surprising to have tears left.
“Were you happy?” You asked quietly, watching his face to tell a reaction. “Because you looked happy.”
John B hesitated in his response, “Babe, he killed my dad.”
You licked your lips and tucked them in, giving a small nod of understanding. It was hard to come to terms that John B felt this was an even trade-off, a life for a life. But he wasn’t wrong, and that made it worse.
“I just think too much has happened,” You admitted honestly, sniffling against your sleeve. “I just thought of all people…you would understand what it was like losing a dad. And I needed you, John B. A-and maybe everyone was right, maybe this is too complicated.”
The two of you received so much backlash when you got together, from friends and family, that it almost broke you. John B reassured you more than once that he didn’t care what they had to say, that the two of you cared about each other and that was the most important thing. But sitting here, with him, you began to wonder if it would be enough.
“It’s not, it’s not too complicated,” He tried to reason, the puzzle fitting into place as he realized what you might be implying. “Please don’t leave. I’ll figure it out, I promise.”
You shook your head and faced him with teary eyes, letting yourself be so vulnerable with the boy you’d trusted your life and heart to. “I love you, JB. But I think I need some time to… to figure this out. I shouldn’t have come here.”
Standing up, you pressed your palms into your eyes to stop the flood of tears in order to see your footsteps as you walked away.
“Hey, hey. Wait,” John B was quickly behind you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly as he held you. Your breath was shaky as you grabbed onto him and tucked your cheek against his skin, soaking up every second of it that you could. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just talk to me.”
“Just… just give me some time, okay?” You asked quietly, tucking your hand into his like it was your lifeline. “I’ll be back, promise. I just… I gotta figure this out.”
John B pressed a kiss to your head, turning your form so he could hug you properly as you sobbed. He never meant to cause so much harm, despite the fact that he was glad Ward was gone after all he had done. John B almost forgot you lost a dad in the mix, so caught up in the idea of revenge.
The sound of your name being called broke your moment with John B, both of you turning to see Rafe standing in the grass at the end of the dock. You could feel the muscles in John B’s back tense at the sight, but you knew your brother wasn’t here to fight. Rafe wasn’t here to play Kook King, he was in older brother mode. He was here for you.
“I’ve gotta go,” You whispered to John B, pulling yourself from his embrace to press a kiss to his cheek. You turned away and began the walk toward your brother, each step creating a crack in the foundation of your relationship. It felt like the worst thing to do at the moment, but you had to take time to fix this. For you, for John B. For everyone.
--
After three days of hiding in your room with Sarah, you gave up on the idea of rotting away. It was more harmful than good, anyway. It had taken some convincing from your friends and each other, but you, Rafe, and Sarah decided to go to the bonfire, hoping it would bring some normalcy and energy back to the three of you. Today had been better than the others, too, so it wouldn’t hurt to venture out for a little bit.
The scene was already busy when you got there, cheers and music coming from every area while people mingled and partied away. You walked in with Sarah, having already lost Rafe to Topper and his usual group of rowdy friends.
“Here,” Your sister handed over a seltzer she’d brought along, the two of you pregaming a bit to take the edge off and help shake the anxiety.
You thanked her, popping the tab and taking a sip as you unconsciously scanned the crowd for the familiar faces you’d come to love. Kiara and Pope were found first, the duo sitting by the fire and conversing with drinks in hand. JJ came next, the blond busying himself with a shotgun alongside some girl you recognized from previous parties.
And then, there was John B. Your John B who begged you not to leave, promising to fix things, was up close and personal with a girl. A girl who wasn’t you.
“Oh, I’ll fucking kill him.”
You barely had enough time to grab Rafe’s shirt sleeve, your older brother seemingly catching sight of the issue as you did. You weren’t sure when he had ditched Topper and whatever blonde hookup he wanted tonight, but he had, and now he was pissed.
“It’s fine,” You reassured and took a sip of your drink, not yet letting go of his flannel as you tried to act like you were unbothered. “Leave it. For now.”
“He’s still a Pogue,” Rafe reminded you, eyes flaring with the need to teach John B a lesson.
You nodded and let your grip fall. “Rafe, I’ve got it. I’ll handle it, and if things go south, then you can punch him.”
Rafe sent the sharpest glare toward John B, which went unnoticed before he returned to his friends with a handful of beers. Sarah rolled her eyes at his aggressive change but didn’t say anything, the two of you clinking your cans together before taking another sip.
One drink turned into too many, but you were so carefree and light that you didn’t care. Kie and Pope had come to join you at one point, the four of you a little too buzzed or high to acknowledge the tension with other members of the group. Sarah was leaning on your shoulder, looking the happiest she had since everything went down and you were glad to see it. Your siblings meant the world to you and now, they were all you had left.
“I’m getting another drink,” You announced louder than needed as you stood up from your friends and made your way toward the drink area without another word. To your luck (or unconscious movement), you managed to find John B near the bonfire, his attention still on the dark-haired girl you’d noticed earlier. The alcohol-based confidence pushed you to approach him, despite the warning in your head telling you it wouldn’t end well.
“John B, hi.” You gave him a sickly-sweet smile and titled your head toward the girl, who you recognized as Jasmine from the coffee shop up the road. “Wanna introduce me to your friend?”
No introduction was needed but John B definitely did not anticipate seeing you here, and his eyes went wide at your presence. Sarah was suddenly next to you as the boy attempted to find a response, “Look it’s not-”
“We should go,” Sarah tried to reason with you, knowing damn well you weren’t in the right headspace to have this conversation right now.
Jasmine nodded in agreement. “Good idea, you should listen to your sister.”
“Did I ask you?” You smiled at her, letting the heavy anger seep into your tone as you addressed her.
“You don’t own everything, princess. Why don’t you go run on home and-“
“Why are you still talking?”
Sarah began mouthing off with the girl, giving you a chance to turn your attention to a very quiet John B. “She’s a real gem. Glad to know you’re working real hard on figuring us out.”
John B’s face hardened at your words as a crowd starting to gather around you. “You’re the one who said you needed time. Guess three days was enough?”
You shook your head, begging your eyes to stop burning with tears that threatened to form. “Did I mean anything to you, John B?”
The question seemed to strike him hard but he didn’t have time to react before Rafe was in between the two of you, eyes looking to kill. “Back the fuck up, John B. You’ve done enough damage to our family this week, maybe try to take a break.”
The first punch was thrown fast, but the following ones came even faster. JJ and Pope were suddenly in the mix, Topper and Kelce coming to back up your brother as the typical Kook vs Pogue war started again.
“Are you happy now?” Jasmine hissed at you, a snarky smile on her face as she watched you yell for the boys to stop.
You glared at her, tears of frustration filling your eyes. “Shut the fuck up, you bitch. Maybe keep your hands to yourself and off my boyfriend next time.”
She pounced instantly, her hands shoving your shoulders and throwing you backward off the brick wall you’d been hiding on. The pain was instantaneous, a sharp twinge up your back from landing on your tailbone and scraped skin beginning to bleed, but the heat on your arm told you the push had been a little more than aggressive.
You screamed out, rolling away from where you had connected with the bonfire. You could hear John B yelling out for you, your name was being shouted in different directions and there were suddenly so many hands reaching for you. You pushed yourself off the ground, crying in pain at the movement, but you weren’t concerned about yourself. The rage in Rafe’s eyes told you that someone needed to intervene, and it needed to happen now.
“Stop, stop!” Your voice was weak as you reached out for your brother, trying to catch his fist before he landed another punch to John B’s already bruised face. “Rafe, please!”
The pain in your voice stopped him short, both boys instantly turning to you with concern and worry. It took them only a few seconds to clock the burn on your arm, and even though you hadn’t noticed the sway to your stance, they surely did.
Rafe dropped his grip on John B’s shirt instantly, his hands reaching out to try and assess the wound on your arm before he forced himself to focus. “Hospital, now. We’re going.”
“We don’t have the car,” Sarah pointed out as she pulled off her lightweight coverup and pressed it against your head where the pain was starting to pulse. A small whimper left your mouth, and suddenly, you were against someone’s chest within seconds.
“Move!” John B’s voice was unmistakable even though your hearing was slowly becoming a dull ring. Everything passed in a blur from there. The chaos of the fight faded away and the orange tint from the fire disappeared as the group moved away. You could barely make out Sarah and Rafe’s voices, your siblings arguing over what to do and where to go.
“I’m not getting in a car with them!”
Worn leather could be felt under your legs, the familiar stickered ceiling of the Twinkie coming into view. You groaned at the movement, your head feeling heavier with each second. You blinked, barely having the energy to look over to see John B staring back at you, his bruised face filled with concern as he held you tightly against him.
“No no, stay with me.” John B’s fingers lightly tapped your cheeks to call your attention as you blinked slowly up at him. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Sarah, drive!”
You could hear your sister shout back that she was trying.
“I’ve got it,” Rafe’s voice followed her frustration before the car started moving beneath you and everything slowly turned to black.
--
You hated the smell of hospitals, but you hated waking up in them even more. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and when it did, you made out Sarah’s figure curled up on the spare bed in the room, her hair haphazardly strewn across her face. To your surprise, Rafe was slumped on the couch, his long legs barely hanging on as he lay across the piece of furniture, snoring softly. Which left one option as the person curled up in your side, the unruly dark curls giving away the answer.
“Hi,” John B’s voice was quiet in an attempt to allow your siblings to sleep. His green eyes met yours, sleep evident in the glassy haze they held. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” You whispered back, shifting carefully with the IV in your arm to cuddle into his side.
“Couldn’t sleep,” He admitted as his fingers dipped into the waistband of your jean shorts to brush against your hipbone. “Feel okay?”
You hummed in response. “What’d they say?”
“Concussion, second-degree on your arm, and a superficial blow to the head, my crazy girl.”
You chuckled, gripping his t-shirt between your fingers to pull him into you, “Gotta keep you on your toes, yeah?”
John B huffed a laugh and pulled your hand from his shirt to hold within his own. A few moments of peaceful quiet filled the room as you listened to his heartbeat in your ears, letting the steady sound calm your racing thoughts.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked quietly, fearing the answer he had to give. Your anxiety had gotten the best of you over the last few days and you’d been questioning whether a break from John B was actually the right thing to do.
“God, baby, how could you even think that?” John B shifted to lean on his elbow and look at you. There was a pretty gnarly bandage on your head where you’d hit the concrete on your way down. All John B could think about was how this was all his fault. He’d let you get hurt, let you down in every way possible, and here you were, scared he was mad at you. “All of this is my fault. If anything, you should be pissed at me.”
You opened your mouth to argue with him but stopped short. Yeah, your feelings had been hurt, but you knew if the roles were reversed and your actions landed John B in the hospital, you would never forgive yourself.
“I’m sorry, about everything. You’re right, I was so caught up in revenge that I missed out on being there for you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. You needed me, and I wasn’t there, and I’m so sorry.”
You moved your uninjured arm to hold the back of his neck, pulling him in slowly for a kiss. John B hummed in content, his fingers wrapping around your waist as he leaned in again, pinning you against the mattress to kiss you again and again and again.
“I forgive you,” You said softly when he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath. “I’ll always forgive you.”
“This is cute and all, but can you guys shut up and quit making out?” You looked over to see Sarah glare tiredly before she flipped you off and rolled over on her other side to face away from you.
You and John B shared a quiet laugh and a handful of kisses before cuddling up on the tiny hospital bed in each other’s arms, preparing to face Rafe’s anger in the morning but moving forward together, one step at a time.
--
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#outer banks x reader#outer banks#john b imagine#john b routledge#john b outer banks#john b x reader#john b routledge x reader#john b routledge imagine#john b routledge x you#john b x you#john b x cameron!reader#john b routledge x cameron!reader#outer banks one shot#rafe cameron x sister!reader#john b x kook!reader#kook!reader#outer banks x you#rafe cameron
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Unworthy (2)
Summary: Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother.
Pairing: AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader, AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader (platonic/best friends)
Warnings: past addiction, mentions of drug abuse/addiction (Loki), angst, classism, Thor being an ass, BBF trope, mentions of spiked drinks
Catch up here: Unworthy (1)
Unworthy masterlist
“Stop her then, son. If she told you the truth, we should find out more about what happened,” Odin feels like he just threw his daughter out of his house. “I shouldn’t have listened to you. Why did I not double-check your information.”
“Husband, not now,” Frigga places her hand on Odin’s shoulder. “Do not make another mistake. Maybe she is innocent, but we need to investigate further first. Thor, follow her. She’s the best source of information.”
“Right,” Thor huffs but turns to follow you. “I’m not sure she told me the truth. Some people have the ability to sell you any lie.”
Thor walks away to follow you. He easily catches up on you with his long legs and determined steps. “Wait—” He calls your name. It’s more an order than a request.
You move toward the exit, ignoring Thor walks next to you. “I said wait.”
“What else do you want to accuse me of?” You stop for a moment to glare up at Thor. “Maybe I sold drugs to Loki, huh? Maybe I was the one getting him addicted. Just leave me alone, Odinson.”
“If the guy spiked your drink there should be a police report…right?” He cocks a brow. Thor is not as good as his father at reading people, but he can see the fear in your eyes when the memories of that night come back.
“My friend called the cops after bringing me to the hospital. I gave a statement, and they promised me that he wouldn’t get away with what he did to me. I believed them,” you laugh bitterly.
“What happened?” He steps closer to tower over you. Thor is intimidating, with his sheer size and figure dwarfing you, but you won’t cower in front of him.
“What always happens,” you shrug and try to balance the box in your hands at the same time. “He came from a good family with old money. My words against his. I was the outsider allowed to walk their holy halls because of a scholarship.”
“That’s awful,” Thor sucks in a breath. If what you’re telling him is true, he understands that you always despised him, the golden son having it all. He never had to work for anything.
“It didn’t matter that my friend, the doctor, and the nurse gave a statement too. They tried to pressure me into taking my statement back, but I refused,” you sniff, and look away. “I didn’t matter, though. He got away with it because his parents knew the right people. Suddenly my test results were gone, and the guests at the party didn’t remember shit. I was lucky to not lose my scholarship. If we are done here, I’d love to leave this shitty place.”
Thor doesn’t stop you when you walk away from him. He has a lot of information to stomach. Thor hopes you’re just a good liar, and he was right about you. But he has a hunch that every word you said was true.
“That’s all, huh?” Hela looks up from her laptop to glare at Thor. He thumbs through the papers and pictures on Hela’s desk. “You didn’t find more?” He asks.
“Stop nagging,” she snaps at him. “You should thank me instead of moping. I got the statement from her friend and the doctor. The nurse withdrew her statement right after she bought a brand-new car.”
“Sounds fishy,” Hogun grumbles. It wasn’t in his plans to sneak around your apartment and follow you around town. “I don’t think the sweet girl is a criminal mastermind. All she did was to buy groceries and look for a new job.”
“Hey, it’s still my turn,” Hela glares at Hogun. “We wanted to talk about her past before we get to the present and future. A shame I didn’t get the chance to interrogate her.” She smirks at her brother. “I bet the sweet girl would’ve been putty in my hands.”
Thor curls his upper lip. “What did you find out?”
Hela leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other. She takes her time to inform her brother.
“I found more questions than answers. But I can tell you that the guy spiking Y/N’s drink is a piece of shit. Over the years his parents tried to cover all the shit he pulled. Luckily, they did not succeed. He crossed one too many lines and they turned their back on him.”
“Interesting,” Thor grabs one of the pictures taken at the hospital. You look scared and his heart hurts seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “Anything else?”
“No well done from you?” She huffs. “Always the same with you and father.” Hela snaps at her brother. “I tried to talk to his parents, but they refused to talk about the incident with Y/N. If you ask me, their son did exactly what Y/N said.”
“Says who…?” Thor questions. He’s still not convinced that you told him the truth and that you are innocent. If so, he’d be the worst person ever for ruining your career and friendship with his brother.
“How is he? Where is he?” You pant heavily as you try to find Loki. “Duke, where is he?” You ask Loki’s sponsor. “Duke!”
“He’s in a bad condition,” Duke’s features soften at your worried look. You’re out of your mind because Loki’s AA sponsor called you in the middle of the night. What if Loki is relapsed or is injured?
“Did he have a relapse?” You clasp your hands together to silently pray Loki didn’t do anything stupid because of what happened. “Duke?”
“No,” Duke shakes his head. “He needs you. Loki asked for you the whole time. I didn’t want to call you, but he wouldn’t stop. He’s vulnerable, Y/N.”
“I need to see him.”
“Loki’s inside my office,” Duke gently pats your shoulder. “Take all your time, Y/N. If you need a ride home, I’ll drive you.”
“Loki?” You walk inside the office, heart lurching in your chest. Loki sits on the ground. His long legs stretched out, and his head hanging. “Darling?”
“Y/N,” he murmurs but doesn’t look at you. Loki believed you gave up on him. Thor, his father, and Frigga didn’t tell him the whole truth. When one of your co-workers told him that you got fired and showed him the pictures Loki knew, Thor did this to you to get you out of his life.
“Hey, beautiful,” you sit down next to Loki and wrap one arm around his shoulders. “How’s my pretty boy tonight?”
“Not good,” he leans his head against your shoulder and sighs. “I almost fucked up again, Y/N. I was bad tonight. I…I…” he sniffles and wrings his hands. “I almost bought the poison.”
“Did you buy it?”
“No.”
“Good. See, you’re stronger than you thought,” you peck his hair. “I knew you could do it, Loki.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your job and my brother?” He murmurs. “I could’ve helped you.”
“Your brother is an asshole, you know that” you try to cheer Loki up while your world still lies in ruins. “He tried to find something to hold against me and succeed. It’s not the end of the world to lose a job, darling. I’ll find something soon.”
“Hmmm…” Loki thoughtfully hums. “Maybe I can lend you some money.”
“I got spared money, Loki. I’m not your friend because of your money, darling.”
“You are my friend because of my good looks, right?” Relieved that you are not angry at him for the things his family did, Loki sighs.
“I’m your friend because I love you, darling,” you pat his thigh. For a moment you are both silent. “So, you came here for a meeting?”
“Three,” he says. “I’m sorry Duke had to call you.”
“I told you a long time ago that you can always call me, Loki. Day or night,” you softly say. “Did you eat today, darling?”
His growling stomach answers your question. “Not much,” Loki admits. “I wasn’t in the mood for food.”
“That was the most awful rhyme I ever heard,” you laugh. “Come on, darling. I’ll take you home and we can eat my leftovers.”
“You want to take me home?” He purrs. “You can’t wait to get your hands on me, huh? I bet you waited for me to call.”
“You’re a little bitch, Loki Laufeyson.”
“I love you too, Y/N…”
You watch Loki’s chest rise and fall. Still worried about your friend you didn’t leave his side.
Finally at peace after hours of suffering and self-hatred, he sleeps peacefully on your bed.
He greedily stuffed your leftovers into his mouth and even burped because you wanted him to eat dessert too.
You talked for half the night, assuring him that his father and brother can do whatever they want to. You will stand by Loki’s side. Whether they like it or not.
“If you don’t stop yelling at me I’ll hang up,�� you snarl into the phone. “I only called to tell you that Loki is safe and didn’t have a relapse. He’s asleep and I’ll drive him home after he had breakfast.”
Thor yells into the phone. He throws profanities at you while his sister watches him with amusement. She chuckles and listens to your explanation. “Thor, calm down. She took good care of him.”
“You don’t have a say in this,” Thor grunts. “She gets fired and then…” He growls and grunts while you listen to his rant.
“Are you done?” You ask. “I’m going to hang up now. I don’t want to wake Loki. He needs his sleep after everything he’s gone through last night. If you need to know more, ask his sponsor who called me, knowing I’ll be the one getting Loki out of the hole he fell into once again.”
You hang up, already regretting that you called Loki’s family. All you wanted to do was make sure they won't worry all night because he didn’t come home.
You harrumph and walk back inside your living room to switch through the channels. Sleep is out of the question after the call. Thor once again made you furious, and you hate the feeling.
Next time he dares to show his face, you’ll knee his balls and give him a piece of your mind…
Part 3
Tags in reblog.
#Unworthy (2)#AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader#AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader#thor odinson#loki laufeyson#business au#thor odinson x reader
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Basic Training IV (Peter Parker x Reader)
Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, mentions of forced pregnancy, mentions of forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers
➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
Jane was the one to greet you this time.
“You’ve been eating!”
She looked happy at that, smiling at you as she came to take the empty plate. You didn’t return it, mind wandering to Peter. He’d left days ago, and as thankful as you were for the solitude, you couldn’t help but worry. Once you’d started actually eating, it was like you couldn’t stop. Your body started craving food again, and it was then that you worried you might’ve been…tricked.
Peter said he was going to check on your mom, but how could you know that was true? After all, he was the reason you were even here, and he hadn’t done a single thing to show that you could trust him. In fact, all he’d shown you was the complete opposite. Everything that had happened showed you that you shouldn’t trust him…ever.
“Steve will be happy,” she continued, moving to unlock the bathroom. “You have a big day ahead of you, so you’ll want to scrub good.”
You frowned at that, following her into the bathroom.
“What do you mean?”
Were you leaving this room?
“You’ll be leaving this room today,” she answered your silent question. “You’ll be helping out in the garden with me and Sharon.”
Another woman, another name.
You repeated it to yourself, trying to keep count, and including yourself, that was five women. Which meant five men…at least, but then you thought about the day Peter had shown you Margaret, and there were men there you hadn’t even seen, so there was definitely more than five. The thought overwhelmed you, and you struggled to swallow.
Jane told you about what you’d be doing as you bathed, and when you were done, she had a dress laid out for you on the counter. You eyed it, hesitantly putting it on, confusion flowing through you. When you looked at Jane, it was the first time you noticed she was wearing a dress too. That’s all she’d been wearing, you realized, and so you didn’t question it.
Jane took your arm as she unlocked the door, and it hit you then that you were finally leaving this room. The thought had you shaking, and Jane rubbed your hand in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture. As you glanced over your shoulder at the bedroom, she closed it, speaking.
“Normally, you’ll make sure the bed is made when you first wake up…”
Your eyes met hers as she continued.
“…then you’ll come downstairs and get started on breakfast, but seeing as it’s your first day, and you’re still adjusting, things will be a little different.”
You couldn’t stop frowning at her words, wracking your brain at all of this. You didn’t understand anything, and you looked around as she guided you down the hall. It didn’t take long to realize the house was large, and if you had to guess, this was more of a wing than a simple hallway. The thought was overwhelming, and again, you thought about what an escape attempt would even look like in a place like this.
Jane was talking to you as you walked down the stairs, your eyes roaming over pictures that lined the wall. Some were faces you recognized, like Steve and Margaret with a baby in her arms, and some you didn’t recognize, like a brunette man and woman with strawberry blonde hair. Still, it was all pictures of seemingly happy couples posing for the camera, and considering the reality behind the pictures, the sight made your stomach churn.
“We’re going to get you something in your stomach first, and then we’ll go to the greenhouse.”
She was leading you to what you assumed was the kitchen.
“I would’ve brought you food in bed, but…”
She trailed off, looking…worried.
“Steve feels like you’ve been adjusting long enough, and he wants to see you contributing right away, so…”
Steve.
He was clearly the mastermind behind whatever this was, and it only made you more wary of him. You looked around again, taking in the house, and you were surprised at how…nice it was. You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you were expecting some rundown house in the backwoods of this town. Considering how nice the room you’d been staying in was, you didn’t know why it didn’t occur to you that the house would be even more impressive.
The amount of money that went into this place hinted at the amount of money they had…and that terrified you.
The kitchen wasn’t empty when Jane guided you to it, and you blinked at the sight of two women, one of them familiar. You tried not to stare at Margaret, but it was hard. The first time you’d seen her, she’d been naked and was being brutally raped by her so called husband. You swallowed as her eyes met yours, a warm smile on her lips.
“This must be Y/N,” she said, and you were surprised by how…calm she sounded. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”
She pulled you into a hug before you could react, and you didn’t exactly hug her back, but she didn’t seem to care. The other woman in the room barely acknowledged you outside of a tight smile, more preoccupied with whatever she was cooking.
“I’m Margaret, but sometimes I’m referred to as Peggy,” she continued, and you nodded.
She glanced at the other woman, and seeming to get the hint, she turned to face you. You noted how pretty she was, but it was a cold kind of beautiful, the kind that made her seem equally terrifying. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders in pretty curls, and her green gaze was unwavering.
“Natasha,” she introduced herself.
You realized that this was Nat…Bucky’s wife. The same woman who had been down in that basement for almost four months, and you looked at her with a gaze that bordered along awe. You hadn’t even lasted a week, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…inferior at the moment.
“Y/N and I are going to be helping Sharon in the garden,” Jane told them as she started to fix you a plate of food. “Something small to get her into the swing of things until Peter comes back.”
Natasha snorted at that, but otherwise said nothing, and you curiously eyed her.
“He’s just off taking care of something for Steve, but he’ll be back in no time,” she told you, turning to you with a smile.
You wondered if that was what Peter told Steve, or if that was simply the message Steve conveyed. Again, you found yourself wondering who Peter was lying to. You or them? You gave her a tight smile in return, and she urged you to go in the hall, promising that she’d be right out. You hesitated at first, but eventually did, and you slowed when her hushed voice carried.
“We’re meant to be welcoming, Nat,” Jane told her.
“Welcoming,” the redhead scoffed. “Right.”
There was a brief silence before she continued.
“Steve wants her out and helping out because he likes being in control, but she’s not okay,” you heard her say. “She’s not ready.”
You heard her roughly put something into the oven just as Margaret spoke.
“Keep your voice down,” she quietly told her.
“He’s not here.”
“…but Tony and Stephen are,” Jane said. “Thor too. If Steve thinks she’s ready then she’s ready, and that’s that.”
Jane joined you moments later, a soft smile on her lips.
You didn’t mention the conversation you’d heard, and neither did she. After eating, Jane took you through the house, giving a brief tour along the way, and you were finding it hard to remember the layout. When Jane guided you through a side door, you were surprised to find it attached to what was obviously the greenhouse. You remembered seeing a few gardens in the backyard, and you frowned.
As if reading your mind, Jane spoke.
“You’ll be outside helping in the other gardens one day, but, for now…”
She didn’t need to finish the thought. They were afraid you’d make a run for it, and honestly, if you were outside, right now, you probably would. The thought of getting caught and thrown back down into the basement made you shudder though, and you winced.
“I know this is a lot,” she finally said after some time, looking at you with an honest expression for the first time since you woke up. “…but you’ll get used to it.”
You didn’t know why, but those words made your eyes water, and you looked away.
“Hey, hey,” she softly shushed, reaching for you. “It’s going to be okay.”
You shook your head, the tears spilling over, and Jane tried to quiet you.
Your chest grew tight, and the greenhouse felt smaller all of a sudden, like the walls were closing in. The idea that you would get used to this, that this nightmare wouldn’t even be that one day but instead something you saw as your normal life, it was too much. You thought about that picture of Margaret and Steve and their baby, and you wanted to be sick.
Jane was calling your name.
“Y/N, look at me,” she softly demanded. “You have to stop crying. You have to-.”
“What’s going on?”
You jumped at the new voice, and you froze, pressing your hand to your mouth just as Jane looked up. The fear in her eyes waned some, and you didn’t miss the way her entire demeanor softened. She swallowed, briefly glancing at you and rubbing your shoulder before lifting her gaze again.
“She’s still adjusting, Thor,” she slowly told him, gaze almost pleading. “She-she just needs a moment.”
She turned you around so you both were facing him, and she wrapped her arm around you, holding you close.
“Right?” she asked you.
You looked at her before looking at…Thor.
He was huge, and it wasn’t in an insulting way, but more so an observation about his build in comparison to Jane’s. His blond hair brushed his shoulder, and it was partially pulled back out of his face. He didn’t look real, blue eyes standing out so much, and you pressed your lips together as he eyed you. You didn’t know how to take him, but considering he was here with the rest and doing what everyone else was, you decided not to trust him.
You remembered that Jane had asked you a question, and you nodded.
“Use your words,” she whispered, squeezing your arm.
“Yes,” you quickly said. “I just got overwhelmed.”
Thor didn’t respond right away, and you were terrified of what he might do or say. It wasn’t lost on you though that Jane didn’t seem as scared as you. She was very much relaxed against you, and when Thor leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, you surmised that this was her husband.
“It’s a lot, young Y/N, but with my beautiful Jane here, you’ll catch onto the flow of things quickly.”
You didn’t miss the way Jane smiled at him, and it left a bad taste in your mouth. When he looked at you, you froze under the weight of his gaze. His demeanor was friendly, and you definitely weren’t as nervous around him as you were with Steve, but outside of the obvious, there was something about him that unnerved you.
He tapped Jane’s chin before turning away, and it was only then did she exhale. She rubbed your arm again, assuring you that you were okay, before turning you back towards the plants.
You’d been helping out around the house for two days when Peter finally came back.
You didn’t know he was back, of course, in the kitchen with some of the other women and getting breakfast started. You were with Sharon, Natasha, and Pepper. You’d met Sharon in the greenhouse the other day, the blonde woman welcoming you with a small smile. You didn’t know how to take her, and she seemed to think the same of you.
Pepper seemed stern, like Natasha, but kinder. You’d messed up quite a few times over the morning, and as annoying as you knew it had to be, she hadn’t said a single negative word. It took you longer than you wanted to admit that you recognized her from the pictures on the wall, cuddled up next to a brunette man with a goatee. You eyed her strawberry blonde hair.
“Here,” she told you, handing you some cut potatoes. “Toss these into the pan.”
It wasn’t lost on you that they were giving you tasks that didn’t require some sort of sharp object, and it was almost flattering to think they thought you had that in you. You weren’t so sure. Sharon was chopping some more as you did as Pepper instructed, and it wasn’t long after that that you heard her exclaim. You looked over as she hissed, and you stilled at the sight of the blood on the counter.
The blonde was holding her hand under the sink with Natasha’s help, and you faintly recognized that Pepper was saying something to you.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of the blood, gaze roaming over it as crawled along the surface…the same way it had crawled away from Pietro’s body. You shakily reached out, grasping the counter, and you couldn’t make out anything in the room. All you could see was Pietro’s limp body sprawled along the pavement, and you sharply inhaled.
You blinked, eyes stinging, and you felt a hand on your arm.
You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head, but instead of darkness, you saw Wanda collapsing after Bucky had shot her. You saw how easily and quickly she’d died, and it was like you weren’t even in the kitchen anymore. You were running through the trees with MJ, her hand tightly clasped with yours…until it wasn’t.
Someone was calling your name, and you didn’t register why your knees were hurting until you opened your eyes to see that you were on the floor. You tried to stand, but you couldn’t, collapsing every time, and it took you way too long to realize what that loud wailing noise was.
It was you.
Your chest was hurting so much, and Pepper and Natasha were trying to shush you, but you couldn’t stop. Your vision was blurry from your tears, and you held your head in your hands. You were shaking so bad, and you slid down to the floor, forehead grazing the tile, and Pepper’s voice was in your ear.
“Y/N, you have to calm down,” she shakily told you. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help you.”
“She needs to be quiet,” you heard Natasha say, her own voice sounding off. “…before…”
“What’s going on in here?”
You recognized that voice, and it only made you cry harder. None of them answered right away, too stumped by Steve’s presence, and the only sound for a few moments was that of your sobbing.
“She… We don’t know,” Pepper finally said, her hand on your back. “Sharon cut herself, and then she just… It triggered something, I guess.”
You could hear his heavy footsteps nearing you, and he sternly told Pepper to move. She did, and when Steve’s hand made contact with your arm, you screamed. You hadn’t meant to, the sharp sound escaping before you could stop yourself. You pushed yourself away from him, but with nowhere to go, you only pushed yourself against the cabinet. Your nails dug into Steve’s arms as he tried to grab you, and you were crying so hard you couldn’t catch your breath.
“Maybe you should get Peter,” you heard Natasha hesitantly suggest. “He just got back, didn’t he?”
You could only assume Steve took her suggestion because you didn’t feel him anymore. You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying to quiet yourself, but you couldn’t stop. You kept seeing their bodies over and over again, MJ’s face as she pushed you away. The blood on your hands…
You felt yourself tilting again, about to sink back down to the floor, when someone stopped you.
Hands were on your face, wiping your tears away, and a familiar voice was shushing you. Peter’s lips brushed your ear as he leaned in, and one of his hands slid to the back of your neck. He softly said your name, once, then twice, before telling you that you were okay. When he pulled away, he wiped your face again, and you peeled your eyes open.
Your gaze met his, and Peter tilted his head at you.
“You’re okay,” he gently told you, a small smile on his lips. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re dead,” you choked out. “They’re dead-they’re gone!”
“I know,” Peter said, pulling you against him. “I know.”
You could feel his hand on the back of your head, the other rubbing circles into your back. He shushed you, standing and forcing you to stand with him. He held your face in the crook of his neck, and you could faintly hear Steve’s voice as he said something. Peter said something back, but you couldn’t make it out.
You tripped over your own feet as he kept you against him, guiding you out of the kitchen. You almost collapsed again going up the stairs, but Peter kept you from falling. His fingers dug into your waist, and the other hand wrapped around your arm. You were too consumed by the memory of your friends’ murders to care about the close proximity, legs trembling and heart racing.
When he finally got you inside of your room, he didn’t stop you this time when you sank to the floor. Your forehead was pressed to your knees as you brought them up, and you wrapped your arms around your legs. You cried so much your head was starting to ache, and it was only when your sobs died down into soft sniffles did Peter speak again.
“I have something for you…something I think you’ll want to see…”
You slowly looked up at his words, remembering why he’d left to begin with. Peter was standing over the bed, reaching into a duffle bag, and you watched him pull out some pictures. Your lips parted as he neared you, and he knelt before you, handing you the pictures. With one look at them, your eyes watered again, but for an entirely different reason.
It was pictures of your mom checking her mailbox. She had a phone pressed to her ear, and you couldn’t stop flipping through them. You felt Peter wipe your face again as you did, your hands shaky, and more tears spilled over as you studied her face.
“She looks so sad,” you tearfully mumbled. “So worried.”
It was true. You could see it on her face, in her eyes, and it made your heart clench. You couldn’t imagine what she was going through, and you started crying again. It was interesting, because by anyone’s standards, you were in a far worse situation, but all you could think about was what it was doing to your mom.
Peter sat with you as you repeatedly flipped through the pictures, and you wiped your face.
“I’m never leaving…am I?” you asked after some time.
The words came out choppy, shaky, and you looked at him. You held his gaze as Peter reached out to brush away a stray tear, and he moved closer.
“No, pretty girl,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No.”
The pictures fell into your lap, and you dropped your face into our hands. Peter let you cry, and you didn’t know how to feel. You hated him, and how could you not? He was the reason you were even here. He’d wanted you, and so he took you, but then you’d think about Steve and how he punished Margaret, and just how mean he was…and you found yourself wanting to be grateful to be stuck with Peter.
…but you didn’t want to be stuck here, at all.
You felt Peter take the pictures, and you lifted your gaze.
“I didn’t tell Steve what I was really doing…”
You frowned at that, and you realized that Peter had lied to him. Not you.
“So…” he reached out, gently taking your chin as he held your gaze. “This will be our little secret, right?”
You faltered at that, frown deepening.
“If Steve finds out, I won’t be able to go and see her again.”
“I don’t want you to,” you whispered.
It was just as painful as it was exciting to see her and see how she was doing. You weren’t there, and you never would be again, and the thought made you so sad. It felt like you were just torturing yourself, and you shook your head.
“I can’t…” you trailed off, more tears spilling over. “She has no idea if I’m even alive, and I can’t see that.”
Your head drooped.
“I can’t watch her mourn me.”
Especially when you weren’t even dead, and that only made you think about MJ’s parents, Pietro and Wanda’s. They were in the same boat, you assumed, only their children were dead. You wondered what they did with their bodies, wondered if they at least let them be found so they could be buried or if they just… You looked away, more tears spilling over, and Peter pulled you against him when you started shaking.
You could feel your chest tightening again, and Peter pressed his face into your hair.
Sleep was hard to find.
You were on the floor again now that Peter was back, slipping out of the bed the second his breathing grew light. You’d been staring up at the ceiling for hours, thinking about your mom and your friends. It was too painful, but you couldn’t stop, replaying the memories in your head and thinking about how much your mom had seemed to age in such a short time.
It made you want to cry again, and you pushed back the tears, sitting up.
You felt almost…pitiful. All you’d done was cry and mope and lose your mind at the sight of blood. You thought about Natasha, finally putting a face to the name of the woman who’d lasted almost four months down in that basement, and you hadn’t even lasted a week.
You peered over the bed, looking at Peter as he slept.
Yes, he’d done a nice thing, and no, he wasn’t Steve, but that didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Peter could let you go, and he wouldn’t, because no matter how he may have felt about Steve’s methods, he wanted you here. You were here because he wanted you here, and you slowly stood. You knew the door would be locked, but you tried anyway, and you weren’t proven wrong.
You tried to think of where Peter kept the key, and you bit your lip.
Searching for it without turning on a light was nearly impossible. You didn’t think Peter would be stupid enough to just leave it in either of the nightstand drawers, but you were shocked to find them locked anyway. A few tears escaped, and you pressed your lips together. The closet door was always locked at night too, and you pressed your hands to your eyes, swallowing down a sob.
You were just about to try the door again when Peter’s voice startled you.
“What are you looking for?”
You jumped, hand tightening on the knob as you pressed yourself closer to the door. You didn’t say anything, and light soon flooded the room as Peter turned on the lamp. You kept your gaze on the wood, afraid to look at him, and you shuddered when you heard him push himself to his feet. You pressed our forehead against the door, and you flinched when Peter touched your arm.
“Do you want to be sent to the basement?”
Peter’s voice was low, but you heard home, nonetheless, shaking your head.
“Do you want…do you want Steve to tell me to drag you outside, tie you up to a tree and-.”
“No, no,” you choked out, shaking your head. “No.”
“Well, that’s what’s going to happen if he catches you trying to escape…”
You squeezed your eyes shut.
“That’s what would happen if I weren’t a better man, and I told him that I caught you trying-.”
“I’m sorry!”
Tears spilled over.
“Do you know how much I had to convince Steve to let you stay up here after what happened yesterday? He wanted to make an example out of you,” Peter whispered, his fingers grazing your arm. “He wanted to throw you down in that basement for a month.”
Your stomach turned at the thought, and you couldn’t stop crying. You felt Peter take your arm, slowly pulling you to him, and he backed up until he was sitting on the bed, taking you with him. Your head drooped, eyes on your lap, and Peter wiped your cheek.
“Things could be so much worse for you,” he whispered, leaning in, lips grazing your cheek. “I’m trying to help, but you have to help me.”
You sniffed, and Peter straightened the sleeve of your nightgown.
“Help me help you.”
You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs, and Peter stroked your face, playing with your hair.
“Okay…?”
You sniffed again, briefly closing your eyes, and you gave him a hesitant nod. Peter sighed, and you felt his hand drift, tracing circles into your back.
“How about this…”
He moved closer.
“You sleep up here, tonight, because now I feel like I can’t trust you.”
“No, I-.”
“Sleep up here with me…and I won’t tell Steve about what you tried to do.”
You froze at his words, blinking, and you looked away. The thought of sleeping next to Peter made you want to be sick, but at the same time, the thought of Steve finding out that you’d tried to escape made you want to die. It made your blood run cold, heart dropping to your stomach, and you slowly looked at Peter.
His brown eyes were warm, no hint of anger in them, and he reached up, gently grazing your jaw with his fingers.
“What do you say, pretty girl…?”
You looked down, heart threatening to leap from your chest, and against what you wanted, you gave him a shaky nod. Peter softly urged you to your feed, gently taking your hand. You couldn’t stop crying, silent as tears spilled over, and Peter shushed you, tucking you in. He sat on the edge, hovering over you with one hand pressed into the bed on either side of you.
His dark brown hair kissed his forehead, and the smile he gave you was meant to be reassuring you guessed.
“This will be our little secret, okay?”
You held Peter’s gaze for a while, playing with the comforter. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t tell Steve, and even though you didn’t, at least not fully, you also didn’t have a choice. Sleeping next to Peter for one night was nothing in comparison to however Steve would want to make an example out of you.
“Okay,” you quietly agreed.
His smile widened at that, and you remained still as he stood. Peter walked to his side of the bed, the room bathing in darkness before he joined you. He didn’t move closer nor even reach out for you. He stayed on his side as he sought sleep once again, and against what you wanted, your body started to do the same.
#dark!peter parker#dark!peter Parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#dark peter parker#marvel imagine
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Hi 😎
Last time I got struck by nostalgia and re-listened to the zombie song and (of course) it reminded me of Ren (the brain rot is strong) bc of the whole zombie/horror movie thing
So i thought I could ask u for some hc with either zombie!mc x Ren, Leo and Ritsu or the opposite with them being zombies 🫠🫠 thank u in advance 🫡
You’re a Zombie!?
Tags: Comedy, GN!Reader, and Fluff. Inspiration from the song and an anime called “Zombie Saga”
Warning: Small gore, nothing too graphic, gun violence, body parts removed or fallen off, 1,854 words
Before Darkwick:
When Mc first came to Darkwick, they decided to keep one thing a secret. It's a huge secret too. They’re a zombie, Mc died a while back but doesn’t remember how they died. All they know is when and how they had found out. Mc met a strange man. This man has quite a loud voice too. This man is a scientist who brought them back to life. Though, they aren’t the only ones either. He had done this several times. Successfully too, before they joined the ghouls. They lived with the other Zombies. Mc would consider them family since they can’t go back to their original family. The scientist known as, “Father” now. Has made sure that if Mc and their siblings goes outside. They have to wear makeup and pretend to be, “normal.”
Father had forbidden any of them from leaving the house without makeup to cover their rotten flesh. Then again, makeup all over their body wasn’t all that comfortable. Yet, each of them has grown costume to it all. Father was also extremely protective of them. He’s extra when it comes to his personality, but he cares for each and every one of them. He also has rules set in place for them. No going out at night, avoid all types of water or anything that takes of the makeups, don’t talk to cops or strangers without him present, and if you are going somewhere, he needs to know where and when. If the outside world knows about zombies' roaming around. All hell will break through and each of them will be taken.
This was extremely hard on Mc and the others when the news was broken to them. It was hard to fathom that they were dead. None of them remembers how they died. Well, now some of them knows but Mc doesn’t remember how they died. Father has told them that one day they will remember. He didn’t tell them himself because he simply couldn’t. When they do remember, he tells them that his and their siblings will be there for them.
So, as time goes on. Mc lives their life the best they can. Now they were on campus, at Darkwick. Things moves so fast that sometimes Mc wishes that time would freeze. First, they were going home on a train, then they were attacked, now they are at Darkwick assisting the ghouls. Mc first debated if they wanted to tell the ghouls that they are a zombie, but they were afraid of what the school would do. They were also scared of their friends' reactions too. So, to keep themselves safe. They kept it too themselves.
----------------Σ(っ °Д °;)っ-------------
Ren:
The first time Mc’s secret came out, it was when they were helping Ren with the water anomalies. They knew better, they totally knew better. It was one of Father’s rules, stay away from anything that can wash up the makeups. Yet, they really wanted to see the aquatic anomalies. Ren needed to feed them. So, as he went to get the foods. They stayed put near the water. One of the anomalies wanted to play. It started to make little bubbles as Mc watches. They laughed while watching the cute thing. Mc wanted to pet the little dolphin’s head. Yet, they knew better. They were tempted, while biting their lower lip and hugging their knees. They ended up giving up and reached out to pet the dolphin. However, they ended up slipping and fell into the water. They panicked as the makeup on their body washes up. Now their dark grayish blue skin was visible. They pulled themselves out of water.
As they crawl on the dry ground. Ren had come back with a bucket of food. Ren had come back with the grubs for the aquatic anomalies. In shock, he drops the bucket as he stares at Mc. Since the makeup has been washed off, a huge stitched up scar on their face was now visible. The scar starts from the top of their forehead on the left side of their face. Then it runs down over their nose to the right of their cheek. Ren sees how different their skin looks too. Its darker, like a light gray with a tiny tint of blue. But that's not all that freaks him out. It was the fact, your foot with the shoe had come off. Mc hasn’t seen Ren yet, nor hears him. They reached out to pick up their foot that was floating in water. Then they popped in right back on like it was nothing new to them.
“A-AHHHHHH!” Mc jumps from the scream and quickly turns around. They see Ren and tries to get him to calm down.
“Ren, I can explain! Please stop screaming!” They desperately, begs him to calm down. Once he calms down, he demanded answers. So, they sighed and took a deep breathe. They patted the spot next to them. He sits down and Mc tells him everything.
“So, that’s that, you’re not going to tell the school, are you?” They asked, fearful that he would tell the school. But he shakes his head no and rubs the back of his neck.
“No, I won’t say anything. This will be our secret. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.” He reassures them, causing them to smile and laugh softly.
“Thanks Ren, I owe you one.”
“Just don’t pull a limb off in front of me. At least try not too...” He tells them, he’s cool with seeing it in movies. Though in real life, it’s different. The real-life sounds, the sight of it. Yeah no, he isn't a fan of it.
“You mean I can’t lend a hand?” They spoke jokingly as they take off their right hand.
“ARGGGHHH!” He screams again, Mc pops their right hand back on.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I won’t do that again!”
-------------------(⊙ˍ⊙)------------------
Leo:
Once again, Leo needed Mc to help him listen to Alan’s and Tohma conversation. So, there they were. Sitting on the couch, right next to Leo. Completely bored out of their mind. Leo has been holding their hand for nearly an hour. Mc was starting to grow bored by the minute. They tried scrolling through their phone to keep them busy. Yet, nothing grabbed their attention. Mc needed two hands if they wanted to play their games. They tried watching TikTok or YouTube, but they forgot their earbuds.
They sighed heavily as they rolled their eyes.
“Quit moving, you’re distracting me.”
“Leo, I’m bored...” Mc whines impatiently as they pout. He ignores them and continue what he is doing. After a few more minutes. Mc starts to think about what to do to keep them occupied. Then, it hits them. Why not freak him out? He’s only holding one of their hands. Mc can easily slip away. So, slowly they start to remove their arm that Leo was holding. Leo wasn’t paying attention to Mc much. He was scrolling on TikTok as he listens to Alan’s and Tohma conversation.
Slowly, Mc was able to slip away and slide of the couch. All without Leo knowing. They have always wonder if the ring would still enhance the ghoul's stigma with their arm being detached. Some of the ghouls already knew that Mc was a zombie. So, they shouldn’t be surprised if a limb or so, pops off. Right?
Well, after they slip away from Leo. They head down to the kitchen where Sho is. They have told Sho what they did, and they shared a laugh. Sho have asked them to take Leo’s lunch to him. And so, they did. Upon arriving back in the room where Leo was. They stand beside him and tells him, they brought lunch.
Leo looks up from his phone, see Mc, and then looks at his hand; holding theirs. He sees their hand in his, but that can’t be? He does a doubletake and realized by their grin. That they have removed their arm to sneak away.
“Very funny NPC.” He rolls his eyes as Mc laughs little by his reaction. They sat back down next to him and still doesn’t place their arm back on.
“Well. you did ask me to lend a hand” They joked, and Leo glared at them for their lame joke. Secretly finding it cringy in a funny way. ----------------(o゜▽゜)o☆-------------
Ritsu:
Ritsu and Mc needed his captain to sign papers again. Unfortunately, Taiga was in a mood. Not a good mood, a terribly bad mood. Mc and Ritsu had tried to reason with him. Yet, all has failed. Taiga ended up pulling out his gun and points it at Ritsu and Mc.
“Get lost, you’re pissing me off.” He spoke in an indignant voice. Taiga’s eyebrows lowered and knit together, his jaw tightens and his lips curls into a frown. Whatever happened, has really set Taiga off. Once again, he tells them to leave. Ritsu, takes a step closer to him and tries to negotiate. Then, a gunshot was heard. Ritsu, didn’t have enough time to activate his stigma, though. He doesn’t feel any pain? Ritsu had open his eyes, only to see Mc. Shielding him from the bullets that were fired.
In shock, he sees that Mc had a gun wound on their left arm and upper chest. He thinks that Mc was going to die or bleed to death. Yet, they didn’t collapse. Mc was still stand, they turned to Ritsu and ask if he's okay.
“I’m alright, but what about you? What were you think?” He turns the questions to Mc. He was filled with worry and questions. How are they not bleeding? Aren’t they in pain? Why would they jump in front of him like that? Are they stupid and reckless? So many questions came across his own mind. Mc quickly grabs his hand, and they dash out of the room before Taiga strikes again.
“Mc, tell me what is going on?” Ritsu demands answer, he feels confused. Not a feeling he likes to feel. He always finds an answer, otherwise it’ll bother him until he gets an answer. Mc nervously shuffled their feet on the floor as the thwittled their thumbs.
“Well...” And so, they explain what is happening to him. About them being a zombie, on why there isn’t any blood, why they aren’t in pain, and any other questions he has. He was fascinated by what Mc is telling him.
“A zombie, that would explain things. So can you remove any parts of your body?” He asked Mc. His eyes hold a shinning bright look, he even wrote down a few details of the answers to his questions. Mc smiled and nodded their head. They reached for their head and pops it off of their body. His eyes widen from the scene.
“I can still talk if I lose my head” Once again, they joked with a cheeky grin. Maybe being a zombie wasn’t so bad after all.
--------------------------------------------
(Unedited)
I hope you all enjoyed this one. It was fun to make. Ritsu's part was a little hard for me to make. So, it might not be the best, but I do hope you all enjoyed. Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. Reblogging help putting my work out there. If you want request, you can request on my page. Just click the, "Ask me anything" box. You can also request more than once!
Ѕтay dazzlιng мy Ѕтarlngѕ☆
#tokyo debunker#tokyo debunker headcanons#tokyo debunker x reader#tokyo debunker ren#tokyo debunker ritsu#tokyo debunker leo
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accidentally in love
Based off of Accidentally in love by counting crows!!
warnings: drinking, swearing a little bit
my first piece!!! It’s not that great, just wanted something to put out and was bored this morning so decided to write this. Let me know what you guys think and if you have any requests!
Summary: Luke and y/n have known each other for as long as they can remember. What happens one summer night when y/n finds Luke awfully close to a girl? I mean they are only just friends… right?
Overview of Luke and y/n relationship
Luke and y/n have been friends since they were born; as Ellen and Julie (y/n mom) were roommates in college. By some weird coincidence Jim and Allan (y/n dad) had been childhood best friends. This has caused them to grow up across the street from each other. If you think about it, it’s destiny really. Anyways, Luke and y/n always say they are “platonic soulmates” but who are they trying to fool with the use of the word platonic? It’s definitely not any of their family members so themselves and eachother must be the ones they are trying to convince their feelings are strictly platonic..
It was a perfect boat day, the sun was warm and shining and the water was a perfect mix between cold and warm, but refreshing nonetheless. Y/n was sitting next to Luke with her legs stretched out in his lap, his hands atop them, Quinn driving, with jack, Trevor, cole and Alex fighting over who gets to wakeboard next and who gets aux. Jack happened to win both of those arguments somehow. Jack had been saying he was going to be throwing a little party tonight since it was the first week everyone was officially back at the lake. “Jack your parties always end with something bad happening” Y/n mentioned. Jack shot her a look of disbelief. “Ummm last time I checked nothing bad has ever happened to me at one of them, only the rest of you idiots”. In reality jack was right, at his first party Quinn’s girlfriend broke up with him over text. The next, Trevor broke the glass sliding door. The one last summer, the cops showed up and kicked everyone out because it was too loud but jack wasn’t around at that moment so Luke said he was in charge and ended up getting a fine. “I’m gonna bring the boat back we should start getting stuff for tonight and getting ready” Quinn told the group. A string of okays came from everyone. Y/n pov:
Right when the boat docks everyone runs off to go get ready for tonight. Luke and I go to our room- yup we share a room but I mean all best friends do… right? Our room has two full size beds but last summer we pushed them together to make a mega bed. Now it’s really no secret that I’ve been hopelessly in love with Luke for as long as I can remember. Everyone knows it. Sometimes if Luke talks about another girl or if he is talking to one and myself or anyone sees it they shoot me a look of pity. I mean it’s pathetic really, being in love with your best friend since you were legit born and not even being able to tell him. I mean we’ve done everything together our whole lives, I even went to umich for him. There’s times that I think that maybe just maybe we could be something more but every time, wannabe frat boy Luke screws it up and flirts with a girl in front of me or talks about a girl in front of me. I mean it’s not his fault- he has no idea. I was listening to some music before the door swung open and in came Luke “kit, you wanna take a shower first or should I? Or we could save water and shower together” Luke shot me a wink while wiggling his eyebrows. Kit is a nickname the three boys gave me when we were 5 because I loved cats and anytime I saw one whether it be a picture or in person I would shout kit as loud as I could. I may act like I hate it but I love it, I think of it as some form of love. “shut up Luke, you shower first get away from me.” I say while giggling and hoping my face doesn’t betray my words by getting red and hot from the blush I so desperately am trying to hide. “Whatever you say kit” he says as he comes closer to me to give me a hug. The second we hug our song starts to play. So she said, "What's the problem, baby?" What's the problem? I don't know Well, maybe I'm in love (love) Think about it every time I think about it Can't stop thinking 'bout it
The second the song starts to play Luke starts twirling me around, spinning me in his arms. Little does he know this song is literally describing my life. Ugh how I hate Luke hughes for making me feel this way. ~time skip to later that night when jacks party is in full swing~
so far jack has made me take 3 shots of some nasty tequila he’s only drinking to look cool in front of girls and other guys. I’ve had 2 seltzer’s also so far so I’m starting to feel tipsy, keep in mind I’m not much of a drinker I prefer to smoke if I’m being honest. I haven’t seen much of Luke for the past hour, which if I wasn’t tipsy I would probably be freaking out but right now I’m having a good time. Until I look over to the backyard and see some girl with her chest pressed against Luke and his arm around luke… my Luke. I could A.) go outside and cause a scene or B.) just go find some guy to flirt with. Both options aren’t great because the first one I would definitely embarrass myself and have Luke be mad at me and the second, well I’m not the best at talking to guys. Now I’m no Virgin Mary but definitely not experienced enough to be confident in talking to or hooking up with a guy. Except for one guy, Trevor. Trevor has flirted with me since the day I met him. I always flirted back to the best of my ability but in reality he knows how I feel about Luke and I know that he will never compare to Luke, but what’s the harm in trying to make Luke jealous? “heyy trev” I say while going into his side forcing his arm to go around me. “What’s up kit? You having fun? Sure sounds like it” he says with a low laugh. “I am but I need your help with something” “Anything for you kit” as those words leave his lips I feel heat rush to my face. Must be the alcohol. “Can you help me try and make Luke jealous, he’s talking to a girl outside right now and I can’t stand to watch it” I say as I can feel tears brimming my eyes. “Of course I can, you know I love to get on all of the hughes’ nerves.” He definitely has a point there. Trevor and I take two more shots for “good luck” as we go outside. I see the girl talking to Luke and she’s beautiful, beautiful like she just stepped out of vouge. My body starts to feel hot with jealousy, I turn to Trevor and he’s sitting down in an Adirondack chair by the fire so I take a seat on his lap, facing him. Trevor’s hands rest on my hips, again I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or not but Trevor is looking really good right now. Until I hear the sound of accidentally in love playing from the speakers and hear Luke come up to Trevor “Hey have you seen y/n our songs on” I turn around and all of a sudden Luke’s body tenses, fists clenched and eyes flash an emotion I’ve only seen a few times, something like anger or jealousy even, there’s no way he’s jelaous I thought.
“Oh hey Lu” I say innocently while in the background all that can be heard is
“Well, baby, I surrender To the strawberry ice cream Never ever end of all this love Well, I didn't mean to do it But there's no escaping your love, oh”
Luke grabs my arm and leads me up the stairs to our room. “What the hell do you think your doing y/n” Luke says, face red with anger. “Luke what is your problem” now I’m getting angry. Why is it okay for him to be all over other girls but I’m with one guy WHO WE KNOW and it’s a problem? “Why were you all up on Trevor’s lap like some kind of —“ he stops himself. “Some kind of what Luke? Tell me” He shoots me a look as if I am the one who just implied he was a slut. I go to try and walk out of the door when Lukes arm reaches out and grabs me. “why were you sitting on his lap you only ever sit on mine” Luke says looking defeated. Why am I starting to feel bad? “I just was talking to him and that’s how we were sitting, I don’t know Lu” “we’re you going to hook up with him?” The question lingers in the air. Was I? I mean Trevor’s hot and all but I only really have eyes for Luke but like I said Luke is never gonna happen he doesn’t even have feelings for me. “I don’t know, I mean if something happened I wasn’t gonna stop it.” Luke just dead stares at me. “You can’t hook up with Trevor, you just can’t.” “I can hook up with whoever I want to Luke”
He takes a step closer to me so now we’re only an inch apart. My body feels like it’s on fire, looking up at him with the soft glow of the moon outside he looks like an angel. Ugh What am I saying I’m supposed to be pissed at him right now. “Luke I” Within a second Luke’s lips are on mine. For a moment everything seems right, our lips fit perfectly together like a missing puzzle piece to the old puzzle you’ve had for years and you’re only missing that one piece, when finally you find it in the most blatant of spots. We pull apart and when I open my eyes Luke is smiling at me. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long kit.” He says as this thumbs are rubbing across my cheeks. “Lu can I tell you something?” “Anything.” “I think I accidentally fell in love with you a long time ago.” I say and Luke’s smile gets even bigger if that was even possible. “I think I accidentally fell in love with you a long time ago too.”
“I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love I'm in love, I'm in love Accidentally
Come on, come on Spin a little tighter Come on, come on And the world's a little brighter Come on, come on Just get yourself inside her love I'm in love”
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Outfoxed: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.9k
Summary: Derek has had enough and decides now is the time to work bringing you home. The team is working on two cases and stretching their agents thin but they'll do anything to bring you back into Spencer's arms.
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Season Five Masterlist
Author’s Note: I know I'm going to piss some people off with the way I wrote the trial and the gathering of evidence but remember, this is fiction and it's my story. I'm making it easy and convenient. I know this isn't how trials work.
I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
x
"Man usually avoids attributing cleverness to somebody else unless it's an enemy." - Albert Einstein
It's been another month of working hard, trying and failing to see you in prison, and trying to get through days without crying. Spencer so desperately wants to see you that he goes to prison almost every day to see if he can't get you to talk to him. He understands why you don't want to see him but you're supposed to be his other half. You're supposed to push that fear away and face him. He's not going to think less of you because you're in prison for something you didn't do.
He'd be at the prison right now if it weren't for the immediate case he's needed on. An entire family was killed except for the husband who was serving in the Army out of the country. He flew back as soon as he was informed that something had happened. He wasn't given any details so that will be a fun conversation when he touches down.
"How was your weekend?" Emily asks when Spencer arrives at the crime scene.
"Lonely." He hates sleeping alone. "Was the whole family killed?"
"Yeah."
"Hudson, this is Dr. Spencer Reid," Rossi says.
"Hi, I'm field agent Anne Hudson. The father is serving in Iraq. Three nights ago, the cops found his family buried over there."
"Buried?"
"The neighbors heard the dog barking, came over, and found him scratching at the grave. Lucy, their oldest child, was still in her swimsuit," Emily sighs.
"What does the father know?"
"Some of it. He was on patrol. It took his unit a couple of days to reach him. He arrives today."
"Last year, the Williams family was killed and found exactly the same way. They lived in Newport. The father, Dan Williams, was also serving overseas. Now, the police are overwhelmed and getting serious heat from the military. We need some answers fast."
"As do the media," JJ says. "They're already calling this the work of a serial killer."
"They're right. It is."
"Why hurt them, though? It can't be to hide the bodies."
"It's a sign of remorse and when they're done being remorseful, this will happen again."
Hotch and Rossi walk inside while the rest of the team stays outside to discuss the case. Hotch looks over the physical evidence to gather the facts.
"There's no sign of a struggle," Hotch sighs.
"So, the unsub holds a gun to one of her kids' heads. What can she do at that point? I see footprints that belong to Paul. Somehow he managed to get away. Mom gets it first and then the youngest."
"He hides in the master bedroom, the unsub finds him, and shoots him. He carries him out to the backyard, but not the mother. She's dragged out. It's quick and proficient."
"For the mother and the boys, maybe," Hotch responds, "but Lucy's drowned and not shot. Why the change in MO?"
Hotch and Rossi hear planes flying overhead so they rejoin the group outside.
"F-22 Raptors," Derek says to them.
"Yeah, it's about to get way louder and much busier. Tomorrow is Langley's 50th-anniversary air show," Anne informs.
"Where is Dan now? The father of the first family killed."
"He put in for another tour of Iraq. An IED killed him two months ago.
"Whoever did this knew both fathers were serving overseas."
"Laura Downey's wedding rings are missing. Any other valuables that were taken?" Emily asks.
"We'll have to ask the husband. From the Williams' home, only jewelry and watches were missing."
"The unsub only took what he can carry, which means he's most likely on foot," Spencer says.
"There's no sign of sexual assault in the Williams case. What about Lucy?" Rossi asks the field agent.
"Nothing is on the coroner's report. Could there be multiple suspects?"
"The mother was dragged out of the house. If there had been multiple suspects, They probably would have carried her. He knew the father was absent, therefore the dominant threat was absent. So, we could be looking for a single suspect."
"There wasn't any sign of forced entry."
"No need for one. Lucy was in the pool so the back door was opened. The unsub walked right in. Lucy probably died first."
"In both cases, the girls were suffocated and not shot. I don't think it's a coincidence."
Penelope calls JJ and she places her on speakerphone.
"Hey, Garcia. You're on speaker."
"We just got a call from Virginia Supermax Prison. One of the inmates there has received two envelopes in the last two days. The first envelope had clippings of the Newport killings. The second envelope had media clippings of the Downey family. In the second envelope was a note saying, 'Look at what I've done,' and both pieces of mail have been signed by 'an admirer.'"
"Who's the inmate?"
"Karl Arnold."
"The Fox?"
"Yeah."
"It makes sense. Family annihilator, absent father, and wedding rings. It's similar to Karl's killings of eight families four years ago. Just like in this case, he took wedding rings only he took them as trophies. He'd hide in the bushes outside the homes."
"Are we working with a copycat?" Anne asks.
"It's too early to assume anything. It could bias the profile. Not to mention the police, the media, and the military would jump all over it."
"Until we're positive, none of this information leaves the seven of us." Derek looks at Spencer who is staring at the ground. He has a heartbroken look on his face, and Derek decides that enough is enough. "Can I talk to my team alone, Anne?"
"Sure."
"Okay, this is how it's gonna go. We all agree that we need Y/N back. Virginia PD ain't doing shit because they believe they got their suspect behind bars. Her trial is coming up in the next couple of days so if we have any hope of getting her released, we need to work on it." He looks at Hotch's look and shakes his head. "I don't care if Strauss breathes fire up my ass. Hotch, you're going to go to the prison with Prentiss and speak with Karl. You know him better than any of us. Have Garcia check on all of Karl's prison correspondence and visitors for the last four years. JJ and Rossi will work with the media and Virginia PD for this case while the rest of us will work on Y/N's case. We only have a few days but I think we can pull this off. Agreed?"
"Okay, Captain Joseph Downey has arrived back at the station," JJ says.
"We can do this guys. Let's bring her home."
JJ and Rossi split up and head back to the police station while Emily and Hotch get into one of the cars so they can head to the prison where Karl is located. JJ and Rossi meet the Captain in one of the empty conference rooms. He is standing stiffly with his hands behind his back, head held high.
"Captain Downey, please, sit," JJ says.
"Thank you, but I'm fine. Tell me everything."
"Three nights ago around nine-thirty, your neighbors called the police when... Your family..." There is no easy way to put it so Rossi rips the band-aid off. "Captain Downey, your family was murdered. All of them."
The man gasps in pain and falls to the ground in tears.
"Is there someone you'd like us to call?" JJ asks.
"Um, no. No, I, uh, I'd like to go home now."
"Captain Downey. Captain Downey." Rossi tries to help the soldier up but he jerks away from Rossi's touch. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
All he can do is sob for his family and feel guilt that he wasn't there to protect them. He is given time to process and grieve while Rossi and JJ work together since they're the only ones available for this case.
"If this unsub's copying The Fox, then we profile him like The Fox. Karl Arnold worked as a psychologist's assistant, right?"
"Yeah, which made it easy for him to watch, target, and learn about the victims from a distance."
"It also made him hard to find. Like The Fox, our man here found a way to hide in plain sight."
"He's pulling from two completely different units. Williams is a medic and Downey is an army Captain. Someone knew of that military connection."
"Both families were attacked within a month of the fathers being deployed. It gave them time to settle in and get comfortable that the fathers weren't there. Once inside the home, The Fox would live with the families and then become the father. Not this unsub. He just walked in and dispensed with the family. Living with them wasn't part of the fantasy," Rossi explains.
"Agent Rossi," Anne says. "Here is the picture you requested." Rossi saw a place inside the Downey home that housed a picture that he wanted to analyze, and Anne has it. "Thanks to you, we pulled some prints off it. The prints match that of the Newport killings. It's the same killer."
"Family annihilators like The Fox start with one victim. Once they feel capable, they move on to a second victim. They don't start with entire families. There are more victims. We just haven't found them yet."
Penelope calls JJ and she steps off to the side to answer the call.
"Hey, Garcia. Got anything for us?"
"Yeah, Karl had a smattering of visits, a couple of whack jobs contact him, but nothing as direct as this admirer person."
"How are we doing on the prints on the picture?"
"I'm still running them. How are you holding up?"
"Military families always fear the worst. They know their men may not return, but this? To see a father lose so much? It's heartbreaking."
"I wish I had something for you. I truly cannot find a damn thing that connects these families."
"Geographically, both of them are thousands of miles away from their family. Communication's all they had through emails, phone calls, and letters."
"That's military communication for you. Even between families, it requires a kind of juice I'm not allowed to use."
"Come on, you hacked into the FBI database," JJ chuckles.
"And they gave me a job. I like my job. I like my life."
"Alright, I'll make some inquiries."
"Yeah, do that. Take care."
JJ hangs up and walks back to the group which is still talking about the current case.
"So, Lucy dies last and alone. This by itself doesn't really mean anything, but when we look again at the Williams file, we notice that the majority of the foreign fingerprints came from Karen Williams' room, which means the unsub spent most of his time in there with her."
"He must have separated her from the rest of the family," Anne concludes.
"Lucy was already in the pool. That much was done for the unsub. Then, this unsub is driven by some other kind of compulsion, some other need. Hotch was right. This isn't a coincidence. It's a possible signature," Rossi says to JJ. "We need to look at each of the victims as a hub with lives outside of their own families."
"Well, each one of them has their own connections outside the family like school, friends, tutors, and business colleagues. Each one of these people is considered access points back to the family."
"That could take weeks," Anne sighs.
"You have time. From remorse to the desire to kill again, the unsub will go through a gamut of emotions. It could be another year before the unsub feels the desire to kill again."
"As horrific as these crimes are, this city doesn't have the resources to commit that amount of time."
"We have full access to all military records for the fathers," JJ says.
"At least we have access to the main hub between families, the dads."
"Let's find out what connects them."
"I'll let Hotch and Prentiss know," JJ says and walks off.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite#criminal minds season 5
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Thank You, For Being You
Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series
Omega Part 2
Omega Part 1 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed | Fury
A/n: hey guys! I hope part one was good, honestly i feel like I could’ve written more but idk i guess as i continue this series I’ll learn what’s a good length for each chapter. ALSO I’m trying to think of a name for this series so if anyone has any ideas, let me know!! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!
Prompt: After leaving Isaac and the cemetery, you made it to the hospital and you, Stiles, and Scott are ready to look for Lydia.
*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧
“Is this the one she was just wearing,” Scott questioned. At the moment you three were packed into Stiles’ Jeep trying to figure out your next step in the plan. Stiles glanced at you in the back seat with a look of desperation, you nodded back to try and reassure him the best you can but in a situation like this, is it really possible? He let his eyes meet Scott’s once more before giving a slight nod.
“I’m not gonna let anyone hurt her. Not again,” Scott reassured, but to you it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself more than the worried boy in front of him and you couldn’t blame him. Lydia really had gone through the most horrific incident and knowing the fact that Peter, the alpha, had done it to her only means this was the least of her problems going forward.
You shifted in your seat, catching the boys attentions, “We’ll figure this out, we always do, okay?” You gave their shoulders both a squeeze, before they turned from you back to one another. “Alright, well shove the thing in your face and let’s find her,” Stiles sighed while starting up Roscoe, the lights reveal Allison making you three jump in surprise.
“Wow!”
“What are you doing here? Someone’s gonna see us,” Scott stressed.
Allison shook her head before responding, “I don’t care, she’s my best friend, and we need to find her before they do.” You furrowed your eyebrows at that statement. It didn’t make sense, who was ‘they’? You noticed Scott also wearing a slightly confused face, “I can find her before the cops can.”
“How about before my father does?”
“He knows?” You and Stiles synced.
“Yeah. I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs.”
You three quickly glanced at each other, “Search party,” you voiced.
“It’s more like a hunting party.” Allison glanced over at you. You moved from the middle of the seating to behind Stiles’ seat while Scott opened his door to let her in, “Get in.” With that, you were on the road and the long lists of questions started.
“Alright, but if she’s turning, would they actually kill her?” Stiles drove down the road as fast as he could. You turned towards Allison and she shook her head, “I don’t know they wont’t tell me anything. All they say is we’ll talk after Kate’s funeral when the others get here.” You grabbed her arm, “Others?”
“What others?” Stiles questioned.
“I don’t… they won’t tell me that either.”
“Okay, your family’s got some serious communication issues to work on. Scott, are we going the right way?” Scott had his head out the window trying to find Lydia’s scent, if this wasn’t such a stressful situation you might have actually laughed at how amusing the sight was. You called out to him the best you could with the wind in his ears, “Please tell me you picked up on something.” Scott sniffed the air, “Take the next right!”
Stiles turned fast making you and Allison slide into each other, once you had settled back into your seats you glanced at the window when you felt your thoughts become all fuzzy. It was like everything around you blurred and your senses lowered as well, but you felt something. Something so fainted it was hard to focus on but as you try your hardest to listen to it, you realized it felt more like a wave of energy. Suddenly your mind became clear again, everything around you came back from being almost rendered useless to completely heightened.
Lydia.
It was almost like you could feel, see, and touch her but she was no where near you. Almost like some kind of supernatural energy is allowing you to locate her by using some kind of connection. To what, you couldn’t possibly know, this hasn’t happened before. You knew some kind of strange phenomenon happened to you when Scott got bitten. You couldn’t even for sure say when it started but the first time something major happened was when you made your locker close by itself out of anger. After that it just felt like every situation brought on more strange occurrences.
However, you couldn’t think about all that right now. Whatever it was that was happening to you, it was allowing you to possibly find Lydia. You could handle the confusing feelings about everything after she was found and safe.
You finally made it to where Scott was picking up a scent but it didn’t feel right. You decided to keep that part of you quiet since you know to base it on just your ‘gut feeling’ is crazy and there’s no way they would go off that and you wouldn’t blame them. You had no time for uncertainty, you had to find Lydia… before they do.
“She came here? You’re sure?” You picked up your head to see Stiles turning around to look at Scott and Allison, considering they had been trailing behind you and Stiles the whole time, you figured they were discussing something important. Scott nodded his head, “Yeah, this is where the scent leads.” You both looked at each other before Stiles sighed lightly while you two kept up your lead. After barely taking two steps, Stiles turned around again.
“Alright, but has Lydia ever been here?”
“Not with me,” Allison replied.
“It’s possible, it’s not even in her control. If she is in fact turning that is,” you said.
Your suggestion seemed to peaked Allison attention as she turned to Scott, where you could barely hear them discussing about the idea of how packs work. “Is it an instinct to be part of a pack?” You finally heard her question. “Yeah, we’re stronger in packs.”
“Like strength in numbers?”
“No like literally stronger, faster, better in every way.”
“Same for an Alpha?”
You glanced over to see Scott hesitate, “Yeah, it’ll make Derek stronger too. It’s why Peter wanted Scott so bad, not to mention his insane ego problem with that sprinkle of absolute crazy he had,” you turned to them as they looked up ahead at you. “But to be honest, I don’t think she’s here, in fact something tells me, she barely had passed through.” Scott’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?” You shook your head, “I can’t explain it but something feels off, like I don’t think Lydia is anywhere near here anymore but I couldn’t tell you how I know that though.”
“Hey look at this. I think it’s a trip wire,” Stiles said messing with the wire line.
“Don’t touch it, you idiot,” You rushed over to smack his shoulder but it was already too late.
He had tripped the wire and had got his best friend got in it. “Stiles.”
“Yeah, buddy,” Stiles turned to see Scott hanging upside down and you with your hands covering your face. “Next time you see a trip wire, don’t trip it.” Stiles pointed to him, “Yeah, noted.”
Stiles walked over to start to try and release Scott, not before earning a smack on the head from you, which in turn earned you a giggle from Allison.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Scott said in a rush. You three froze almost simultaneously. He continued, “Someone’s coming, hide.”
No one moved causing Scott to wave his arms chaotically.
“Go!”
Allison and Stiles scattered while you slipped behind a tree nearby in case anything happened. While you technically speaking, had no control over whatever power you gained you knew well enough that emotion triggered it. When it came to Allison’s father, anger was easy to feel. You finally heard his voice once he got close enough.
“Scott.”
“Mr. Argent.”
“How are you doing,” Argent inquired.
Barely in your eye line, you could see Scott shrug his shoulders, “Good just hanging out, is this one of yours? It’s good. Nice design, very constricting.” You chuckled slightly, Scott always had a thing for being so socially awkward it almost physically hurt you.
Argent sighed, “What are you doing out here, Scott?”
“Looking for my friend.”
“Ah, that’s right. Lydia’s in your group now, isn’t she? Part of the clique, is that the word you use or is there another way to put, part of your pack?”
You could already feel your body start to shake from anger, he was so infuriating! You understood that his family had a way of doing things and that it had been like that for centuries but Lydia is just kid.. Scott is just a kid! Both were put into the situations they’re in now, so you couldn't even fathom how this grown man, this father, could just so blindly follow his so called ‘code.’
“Actually, clique sounds about right to me,” Scott rebutted.
“I hope so, cause I know she’s a friend of Allison’s, and one special circumstance, such as yourself… One I can handle. Not two.”
There was a moment of pause before he kept with his point. “Scott, do you know what a hemicorporectomy is?”
Scott’s breath shook slightly, “I have a feeling I don’t want to.”
“A medical term for amputating somebody at the waist. Cutting them in half, takes a tremendous amount of strength to cut through tissue and bone like that. Let’s hope a demonstration never becomes necessary.”
All you could see was red, he was threatening Scott? What was this guy’s deal? You were glad that Allison and Stiles were out of ear shot because before you even could think you came out from behind the tree. “Really? Because I’m willing to bet that a certain someone would love to know about this conversation.” Argent glanced at your position next to the tree with a slightly surprised look.
“So unless you would like me to inform said person of this conversation,” you continued, “I suggest you walk away now and go about your night.”
Argent took one more moment to glanced at Scott before standing and turning around to go on his way. Before he could get too far away though you let your voice be heard once more, “And Mr. Argent?” He stopped and his head turned to look over his shoulder, acknowledging your presence again. “We will find Lydia and you will keep you and your men away from her, because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you end up that demonstration… and I won’t need claws and fangs to do it.”
You smiled once his eyes met yours, “Enjoy your night, Mr. Argent. Drive home safe, I’m sure Mrs. Argent is worried about you.”
With that, he left.
A few seconds went by and when they were finally out of sight, Allison and Stiles rushed back towards you, asking Scott if he was okay. To which Scott replied back, “Just another life threatening conversation with your dad.” Allison went to try and get Scott down from the wire asking you and Stiles for help as well. Only for Scott to take his claws and cut himself free when we weren’t paying attention. “Thanks, but I think I got it.” You three glanced at each other with sounds of amusement and agreement before you join Scott back towards the Hale house and back on your search until finally you had to all go home, especially since Allison definitely couldn’t get caught out and about with you guys.
~
The next morning, you decided you would just walk to school for some fresh air, you knew the route would take you passed the cemetery but what you didn’t know was that there would be a crowd occupying the space as well. Among them happened to be none other than Mr. Lahey, Isaac, and Sheriff Stilinski. You checked your watch and decided being even more late to a lacrosse practice wasn’t too awful, considering you were just the team manager and not a player.
“Sheriff, hi!” Sheriff turned to see your smile and wave, returning the gesture before his expression took on a confused front. “Shouldn’t you already be at school, for practice?” You glanced at the other members in the party as you reached the huddle, while one pair of eyes made you feel a soft and floaty feeling instantly, the other was so cold it made any content emotion you had dissipate. You had also taken notice to a black eye on said soft and floaty eyes, you gained your composure back as fast as you could and shrugged in response to the Sheriff’s question. “Well you know me sir, sleeping in is my middle name.” Sheriff huffed a small chuckle and nodded along.
“Plus, I saw Isaac here and figured he could use a second person to voice to Coach on why he’s running late for practice, he’s on the team, you know?” You gave a nod in Isaac’s direction, Sheriff turned back to the father and son, “You play for Beacon Hills? My son plays for the team. Well, I mean, he’s on the team, he doesn’t technically play. Not yet, anyways It’s-”
“We’re working on getting him to play now.. hasn’t been all that successful, as you know,” You responded, which earned you a raised eyebrow from Sheriff and a soft smile from Isaac. You raised your hands up, “What? It’s true!” Isaac’s glance was no longer on you but behind you, which both of you noticed and turned to see nothing but empty forest.
“Something wrong, Isaac?”
Isaac’s gaze snapped back to Sheriff and he quickly shook his head, “No. Oh, no, sorry. It’s just Y/N’s right, I have a morning practice to get to.”
“Just one more question.”
You readjusted your bag on your shoulder, “I’ll wait for you over there, while you finish up. Mr. Lahey, nice to see you again. See you later, Sheriff.” You received a stiff nod from one man and a slight pat on the shoulder from the other. You made your way back to the entrance of the cemetery and Isaac joined you a few minutes later.
You walked in silence for a while but you just couldn’t handle it anymore, “Where did you get the black eye?” You could feel his panic as he tried to glance at you nonchalantly, “Lacrosse”
“Lies,” You shook your head, “He did it, didn’t he?”
“Isaac please, why won’t you let me tell someone, Sheriff could help and I know he would listen.” He instantly rejected the idea, “It was nothing, just an accident, that’s all.”
“Okay, fine, even if I did believe what you’re telling me. I know for a fact he’s done something and probably stuff a lot worse than I could ever imagine.” You stopped and placed yourself in front of him, your head tilting up to meet his eyes, grabbing his hands, “Look, I know we’re not close, really we hardly know each other outside of chemistry and lacrosse but I do care about you and I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
You felt his whole body freeze for a split second and he took a jagged breath, “I know and I appreciate it, but I’m okay.” You couldn’t have hidden the slight look of disappointment even if you tried but you nodded anyways. The two of you continued your walk in silence until you reached the locker room.
By the time you both made it to the locker room, it seems that you ended up not really being late after all. Coach had started giving a speech that had to do with Lydia. To be honest, you zoned out so all you caught from the whole thing was to contact an adult about anything.. and something about losing a testicle to exposure..
Everyone scattered to head to the field, while you looked for Stiles and Scott, only to find them huddled in the corner with the one person who makes you wish your head would explode.
“If Lydia wants to take a naked hike in the woods, why should I care?”
You walked up to the trio, putting your arms around your boys’ shoulders, “Because, being an apathetic jackass is far from cute, and you’re low on the scale when it comes to that rating already.” You felt both Scott’s and Stiles’ arms wrap around your waist to support your position. “Because we think she might be.. you know, turning,” Scott redirected the conversation.
Jackson sent you a narrowed glance, which you gladly returned, “Into..?”
You three met each others eyes as if you had just been given the most ridiculous logic problem known to man. “A unicorn, what do you think, dumbass?” Stiles snarked. You let your head rest on Stiles’ shoulder before scoffing, “I can’t believe we share oxygen with this guy,” You remarked.
Stiles and Scott gave a slight breath of amusement, while Jackson continued to shoot daggers at your head. Jackson readjusted his feet before looking back at the boys, “Well if Lydia’s turning, I don’t think she’s the one that’s gonna need help.”
“What do you mean?” questioned Scott.
“When I was with Lydia, you should of seen the scratches she left on me,” smirked Jackson.
You huffed, “Yeah, probably out of desperation to escape.” Jackson’s head snapped towards you and you gave him the most sickly sweet/sarcastic smile you could muster. You felt both boys tighten their arms around your waist and squeeze your sides, to let you know to chill out. You just couldn’t help yourself around Jackson, his face alone made you want to give him a right hook to his jaw.
“What do you think she’s gonna do with a set of real claws,” Jackson pushed in between you and Stiles, making you lose your balance and start to fall, luckily Scott’s reflexes allowed him to balance you back on your feet. You scoffed, “God, I really hate that guy.”
~
Later on, you were at your locker still seething about Jackson from earlier this morning. You banged your fist on the closed locker next to yours and let out a slight yell of frustration while slamming your own locker shut. You turned to find the hallway no longer empty, now housing Isaac, who stood frozen probably due to your outburst.
“You okay?” You felt your face get hot from the embarrassment of your slight tantrum being caught. You let your back lean against the lockers and you shook your head keeping your eyes on the ground.
“Jackson’s such a dick.” Isaac let out a laugh and nod in agreement.
You felt pressure on your shoulder and looked to the side to see Isaac now standing side by side to you, leaning his head down to try and meet your eyes.
“Yeah I think the whole county could attest to that. What did he do?”
“Exist.”
There was a moment of silence between you two before you took a breath and slid your back down the lockers, Isaac joining you moments later.
“He just pushes my buttons, this morning the boys were trying to talk to him and he was just being an arrogant ass like always. Just frustrating.”
“I thought you three hated him.”
“Oh trust me, we do.”
“Then why were they even talking to him.” You looked at him for a moment debating on what you should say and deciding on something close to but just not quite the truth was good enough. “They wanted to know if he had known anything about where Lydia could be.” Isaac nodded in understanding. He put his hand on yours, “Hey can I ask you something?”
Your hand turned so that way he was now holding it, “Of course.”
“How did you three become so close?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “Me, Scott, and Stiles?” He nodded, you gave a breathy laugh.
“Honestly? We’ve known each other our whole lives basically, I guess our parents all knew each other some how but my parents ended up dying in an accident when I was little, I don’t remember it. Melissa and the Sheriff took me in after that, eventually Melissa took me in full time and I’ve been there ever since. Those two empty headed boys are truly like my brothers, we grew up together and they’ve always been pretty protective of me, I guess it was only natural for us to be so close.”
You let your eyes meet Isaac’s and what you were met with made your heart flutter. He just had the softest look in his eyes, a look that made your whole world seem like it was just you two. You couldn’t even explain it fully if you tried. “Why do you ask?”
Isaac shook his head with a slight smile, never breaking eye contact. “You’re always together so I figured talking about them would help relax you.” Your eyes widened and then as if out of a manic episode you started giggling. “You’re right, it did.”
“Okay then, tell me something else.”
You hummed in response. “Why are you always in the middle?” You chuckled, “You noticed?”
“Yeah, those two will always switch which side of you they stand on but you’re always in the middle, why?”
You adjusted your position on the floor to your shoulder being the part of you that's leaning on the lockers, “Well do you remember that one kid in the third grade, he almost always wore plaid and his parents were both realtors? They moved later on, when we reached middle school,” Isaac nodded, “Okay, well for some reason, that kid was obsessed with me, and I’m talking OBSESSED, but not in like a cute way. He would be nice to me some days and then others it was like his mission to make it the worse day of my life.”
“I went home crying almost every day that first semester, Melissa and Sheriff didn’t know what to do, the school didn’t know what to do either. Eventually, Scott and Stiles came up with this plan, since we were in the same home room, they would stay by my side all day, everyday. 24/7. When we were in the school, there wasn’t a moment they weren’t on either side of me. After that, the boy wouldn’t come near me anymore, I guess there always being an audience to his acts was enough to get him to leave me alone.”
Isaac chuckled, “I guess that’s one way to deter a stalker.”
“Yeah, and then it just became second nature to us, I guess.”
Ding!
Your world was broken back into reality by a text tone. Stiles. Again.
Why was Stiles always the reason these moments of yours were broken up?
You opened the text to see something about a funeral, the Sheriff and a car disturbance in the woods. “I’m sorry, it’s Stiles, he wants me to meet them somewhere, I should go.” Isaac smiled at you, “Of course, not a big deal.” You didn’t even give yourself time to think, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug and his arms secured themselves around your waist
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you.”
*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧
A/n: AND THATS ALL FOLKS! I wanted to leave the first episode on a sweet note, especially since Isaac really doesn’t appear too much in the first few episodes. I hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think! Btw this isnt edited so please forgive me for any mistakes lol
Taglist: @somiaw @pecxiebu
#isaac lahey#isaac lahey angst#isaac lahey fluff#isaac lahey imagine#isaac lahey x reader#lydia martin#scott mccall#stiles stilinski#teen wolf#teen wolf fluff#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf series#teen wolf x reader#isaac lahey series
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If this is too dark you can ignore it I completely understand but I was rereading east side of sorrow (A++++ fic FWIW) and thought about how it would’ve gone if Bucky,,,went through with the attempt,,,
putting this under a read more bc it’s dark but. i have thought about it too.
***there is no canon or b side of young vets au where he does go through with it, this is just a ‘what if’ thing
i do ultimately think he wouldn’t have been able to go through with shooting himself in the living room. he almost did in esos yeah, but even right before gale came out he was already second guessing that aspect of it bc he- even in worst moments- didn’t want to burden gale like that.
so if he did i think he’d pull a side b croz and go into the woods to do it. gale wakes up one morning and he isn’t there and. feels a very distinct sinking feeling that feels a lot scarier than just normal worry that john isn’t in the house.
then he finds his note ):
feels like the world is crashing down on him but he also. disassociates. tries to call him a few times and after 3-5 times with no answer calls the cops and very flat toned tells them his husband went off somewhere to kill himself and he’d like if it they figured out where, thanks. then he hangs up and just. feels like all his strings were cut. is sitting at the kitchen table in complete dead silence, unmoving, staring at the wall for nearly an hour until the police officer calls him back and says they found a body, does he need someone to drive him to the morgue he can send an officer. very gentle and patient officer at least.
but gale says no it’s fine he can get there, thanks. doesn’t remember a second of putting his shoes on or getting in the car or driving. feels like he blinked and then he was staring at his dead husband with a bullet wound in his head. gets the 1000 yard stare look on his face and feels like he can’t move till something in him snaps and he just. shatters ): can’t stand upright anymore and is completely hysterical crying so hard he feels like he’s gagging but not saying any words. what use would it be anyways when he can’t hear him because he’s dead. he stays in there for a while which the staff don’t mind, and when he is ready to be done someone walks him out to his car and just plops herself in the passenger seat with him. not gonna let him drive home till she feels like he’s safe to do that. all gentle and soft asking if there’s anyone he needs to call, she can help,
and the first person that pops into his head is curt
god. poor curt <\3. the second his name crosses gale’s mind he feels like he’s about to shatter all over again because he knows this is going to be the worst day of curt’s life too. the staff woman sitting with him calls the number and tells gale she can talk to him but he puts his foot down about that, knows curt needs to hear this from gale himself.
curt gets on the first plane out there and as terribly devastatingly heartbroken as he is he finds the strength to muscle through and take care of as much as he can for gale. handles the majority of the funeral stuff, calls john’s family, is just about feeding gale by hand so he eats anything at all. then when kenny flies out a week later that’s when curt’s strings finally snap. nearly collapses in the driveway the second he’s close enough to have him in his arms and gale can see the two of them sitting out there crying for a while.
i think gale puts down the idea of arlington funeral. can’t stomach a military funeral when the military is why john went and shot himself. and i think since curt, ever perspective, has a feeling gale isn’t going to stay in wyoming for much longer now he convinces him on cremating him after the funeral.
gale just. mhm. sure curt.
my poor loves ):
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16/12/23
it’s not like i stopped having dreams at all. i was going to bed after 3AM for months waking up after six or seven hours of sleep and still dreaming every night, but i never remembered anything. some blurry pictures haunted me, but i was lucky enough to forget them in the morning. that’s why when i found myself in my old family house with blood on the walls and the floor i knew it was a dream, but a dream so vivid i was actually more bothered by the fact that it was the first story-like dream i had in months than that there was blood all over the place.
yeah, the blood. that house has seen enough of it, but never that much. even when the nose was broken. or when the whole set of red festive dishes was scattered around the kitchen. or after the accident. but we don’t talk about the accident. we don’t.
in a dream there was so much blood i couldn’t tell if it really was the house i grew up in. everything seemed to be the same, but things changed. maybe it was because of the renovation they did after i moved out. i’ve seen the photos. the room i used to sleep in looked horrible, like a piece of a hospital environment that for some reason also had my old stuff and an ugly grey carpet in it. it was now the room my mother used to go to read my embarrassing old diaries and cry in when she missed me most or when the threat of a broken nose was possible again. at least that didn’t change. the threat of a broken nose.
the presence of blood in a dream was somehow connected to the person who used to break noses and not take responsibility for the accidents we don’t have to talk about. and i didn’t know where he was. for some reason i wasn’t scared of him or to find him inside the house for the first time in my life. looking at the blood, i should have been. but i wasn’t.
i also knew what i had to do. the blood needed to be mopped.
someone else was there with me. i couldn’t see their face, but they felt like a friend. it could have been the devil himself, but i knew i had a problem more serious than the devil at that point.
i was walking around the house like it was just another day of my life mentally preparing for the massive cleaning session incoming when my phone rang. it was my mother.
i said, “where are you?”
she said, “he killed seven people.”
i said, “okay.”
she said, “you don’t know the horrible things he did to them. i’ve seen it all. his mother was there. you don’t even need to know about her teeth or her neck. i’ve seen it all.”
i said, “where are you?”
she said, “i’ll be home soon.”
home. i had to clean the tons of blood in a house i grew up in. my mother has called it “home”. i had another name for it. she wouldn’t like it. he was also here. i had to find him.
there was no power and all i had was the flashlight on my phone. i still had an unknown friend with me. the walls and the floor with blood on them, some cleaning stuff, a flashlight and a nameless friend. i took the phone and left to go deeper into the house in a search for a man in the centre of it. he wasn’t even a minotaur in a labyrinth. that was too much of a job title.
i found him right where he was expected to be. in a corner of the library, not easy to be spotted, right where he stored all his expensive tobacco assortment i used to steal from him when he wasn’t around. he looked calm. affectionate, almost gentle. like he was glad to see me. like he was sorry. like it was another quiet morning after the-broken-nose incident. forgive and forget. it’s gonna help you heal. no fucking way.
he was covered in blood.
i said, “what have you done?”
he said, “i deserve all your anger.”
but i had none. i was tired. i had a house to clean up.
i said, “i’m calling the cops.”
he said, “i’m a disappointment.”
i said, “we’ll see.”
the cops came. there were two of them, two young ladies, almost too cheerful for a situation. almost like it was all a stupid dream.
“the house is yours now,” he said before the cops took him away after i declined the laughable offer to put the handcuffs on him myself. “it’s all over. the house is yours. it’s always been.”
they left. i shut the door. it was dark. my faceless friend was waiting for me with the cleaning stuff.
“we should hire the cleaning company,” i said as i put the rubber yellow gloves on. “there’s no way i can do this on my own.”
“no,” the friend said. “you can. and you will. it’s your house now, haven’t you heard? you can sell it, get the money and everything. that’s gonna be awesome, right?”
maybe it was the devil himself after all. the blood was seeping through the cracks of the wooden floor.
“yeah,” i said.
then i woke up. the night was coming to an end. for a couple breath stealing minutes i was stuck in a house with blood on the walls. it was still there. i was still there. cleaning the blood. mopping the floor. waiting for my mother. wondering if she’s gonna lock herself in my old room turned into a hospital ward to cry over a man that broke her nose once or twice and a kid that used to have to calm her down while she was crying.
i suddenly heard the watch on my wrist ticking. it was a quarter to six. i was home.
25/12/23
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So.. I finished Alchemy of Souls
Guys, the amount of tears I just shed in front of my entire family in the last episode of part 2 is crazy.
They were just sitting there like, you good? It's fiction as I'm sobbing my eyes out.
Anyway.
I have many thoughts. So many. And I lowkey want to make a separate post for each of them.
But for now I do want to leave some of my impressions about the finale: (spoilers ahead obviously)
I thought it was pretty well done. I expected to be a bit more shocked about the whole Jin Buyeon is Jin Seol-ran plotline but it honestly made sense to me and I feel like it was actually foreshadowed pretty well for the most part, even in season 1.
Also they definitely got me good with the deaths of Park Jin, Maidservant Kim, and Jin Hogyeong (if that's how you spell her name). Like that's when I started crying tbh. (I could care less about Mama Jin tbh, she sucks, but that deserves its own post). And I'm glad that them actually being alive didn't feel like a cop out to me. They established early on that Jin Seol-ran knew what would happen and used that to their advantage so it was believable and didn't feel like a Deus Ex Machina move for them to be saved. Well, maybe one of them should have died (cough–Mama Jin–cough). But it's fine.
I do feel like the last two episodes were kind of rushed though. I don't know if they had budgeting constraints or if Netflix didn't give them more than ten episodes, but I think that they should have had at least 12. Two more episodes would have allowed for more expansion on the climax and allowed them to up the drama more, which I think would have done well for the series over all, and would have been a better payoff.
I think the time could have been used well to flesh out some of the side characters arcs more. I feel like Danggu and Jin Choyeon were kind of pushed off to the side this season, and especially in the latter half, but I would have liked to see more of them and their relationships not only with each other but with Jang Uk and Naksu/Jin Buyeon.
For all intents and purposes, Naksu/Jin Buyeon lived as Jin Choyeon's sister for three years, and we can see that despite everything that happened three years prior, Choyeon did treat her as her sister even knowing the soul was Naksu's and cared about her. I think that could've and should've been expanded upon, her choosing to care about Naksu/Jin Buyeon or how that came to be. Also, after Naksu regained her memory AND found out Jin Mu had been for sure controlling her at the end of Part 1, I would have loved to see the conversation between her and Choyeon about what she did, an apology and an explanation that she would never have done that if she were sane of mind. What I said about Choyeon applies to Naksu as well because she lived three years as Choyeon's sister, and we can tell she cares about her, so I would have loved to see more of her feelings towards her, especially upon remembering all that had transpired in part 1.
When it comes to Danggu, I mean, he's one of Uk's best friends, and he was left out of the loop a lot when it came to anything Naksu-related. I would have liked him to find out or for Uk to tell him at some point and see how he makes peace with that. Because Danggu and Mudeok were friends in part 1 and he supported her (erroneously) in her supposed romance with Seo Yul. But then she killed his fiance's father and tried to attack him. I can't imagine the sense of betrayal he felt, but also finding out that it wasn't her fault and how he could come to terms with that would have been great to see. I also think his whole experience/trauma from part 1 was kind of glossed over. Like his main thing this season was his broken heart after Choyeon didn't end up marrying him, and I think that was making his feelings a bit too one-dimensional there. They do talk about how he feels slightly uncomfortable/doesn't know what to do with Jang Uk at the beginning of the show, but once Seo Yul comes back, that's kind of forgotten about and the three of them just start hanging out again no problem. I would've like to see a bit more about him struggling with becoming Leader of Songrim as well and how he adapted to that amidst his heartbreak for both his love and his friend who he doesn't even know how to act around anymore, and even towards Naksu/Mudeok who kind of ruined his future and that of his best friend but also being intuitive enough (because he is and he has one of the best hearts we've seen in the show) to realize that there's more to the story than her just going on a murder spree.
I've seen some talk about people saying they didn't like the actress for season 2 as much as season 1 (forgive me, I forgot their names), but I think both brought something good to the table.
Season 1 actress for Mudeok was really good. Her facial expressions were spot on and her chemistry with Lee Jaewook and the other cast members was really good. I think she definitely had great stage presence and made the show popular in the first place. I just don't agree that season 2 actress was worse.
I think season 2 actress definitely put in the work and embodied who Naksu/Jin Buyeon was for the majority of the series. There were times where she made expressions that perfectly resembled/echoed Naksu/Mudeok's that really got me like yes they are the same person even if she doesn't remember. She may have been cuter than we were used to with out sharp-tongued and emotion-resistant Mudeok, but I think Naksu needed that. As Mudeok and before then she didn't have the luxury to be more emotional and girly, it's only now in this body that she does, and I'm glad she had the opportunity to express that side of herself that had never seen the light of day.
We did get a glimpse of that side of her at the end of part 1 where she's playing around with makeup and what might make her look pretty, and it really spoke to all that she had missed out on and had to give up in order to survive. So yeah despite all the angst, I'm glad Naksu/Jin Buyeon had that opportunity through season 2 actress who played it really well while keeping in line with the essence of Naksu/Mudeok.
This whole thing about Naksu being the shadow to Jang Uk's light and if light exists then it needs a shadow broke my heart you guys, it was so perfect. And the fact that they were each other's light and shadow at different points but were also wholly necessary to each other in that was beautiful. I want to talk more about this in a separate post, so I'll table this metaphor for now.
Shout out to Crown Prince Go Won, a great character this whole season in terms of both comedic relief and massive character growth. So good.
Uk's arc was fantastic too but again want to save that for a full post.
Those are my out of order first thoughts about part 2, but I have SO MUCH MORE to discuss, so I will come back for sure. I just needed to scream to the world for a bit (virtually of course).
Question though for all of you more knowledgeable in the k-drama world: is there going to be a season 3?
#alchemy of souls#alchemy of souls part 2#alchemy of souls light and shadow#Jang Uk#Naksu#Mudeok#Cho Yeong#Jin Buyeon#park dang gu#Seo Yul#jin cho yeon#kdrama#Finale thoughts#Meena's posts
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under your mattress
summary : everyone had their secrets, yours just happen to be contained in a box under your bed.
warnings : snooping
pairing : spencer reid x black!reader
you and spencer had been dating for around a year now, and you felt as close as you humanly could. but every human has its secrets, every single last one of them, including you.
that smile plastered on your face every day when you stepped into the office fell just as fast when you stepped out those walls. those very crowded walls that you called your workplace, and sure work made you happy, the bau family made you the happiest and so did spencer. but you didn't understand happiness, before this monumental change in your daily routine. as a kid, you lived in las vegas, in one of the poorest and crime-filled neighborhoods, compared to your boyfriend. he was a child prodigy, he knew nothing other than being so, but you, oh jesus you knew. you have lived as a naive girl, an antisocial teenager, and a once-running-from-cops sort of girl. you have lived many lifetimes in this small one that you own now, you were currently twenty-one years old.
you have gone completely sober, with no alcohol, no parties, and only the occasional smoking here and there. for these unspeakable things you have done, you had a journal that you hid under your bed, it was an old shoe box from one of your childhood pairs of shoes. sure it seems weird in your mind when you pull out the now faded sparkly box of some light-up shoe you forgot the name of, but the piles of letters and notes in there explained your every thought from every living moment of your life. surprisingly this wasn't a problem, you've had roommates, and partners who never really questioned the late hours of the night when they could see that iconic box being pulled out and you sitting on the floor with a pair of soundproof headphones. it was your safe haven, and you honestly didn't want anyone to disturb that, that was until you met spencer.
he was nosy, and everyone knew it, which wasn't a bad thing, in fact in some cases it was good. but not in this one, never would it be good in this one, the things you had in that box were sacred. you thought of it like the bible, writing every waking moment you could remember, and with that came good and the bad. it was an early saturday morning, spencer decided to stay over after the movie marathon you both had last night, and you not knowing any better sat your sorry ass on the floor and began to write. you wrote how you enjoyed spencers company, how you adored him and his words and his being in general. it was different with him, it really was, no one has ever treated you with so much respect, love, and care. not even your own father could come to this point, and your absolutely adored spence for that, you worshiped the ground he walked on like he was some god. so you wrote and wrote, and even as your fingers grew cramped and numb you didn't put the mechanical pencil in your hand down.
you didn't take notice of spencers not so sleeping eyes for staring daggers into the back of your head. this night has opened my eyes by the smiths was blaring in your ears and you had no plan on stopping the sweet melodies that studied your ears at this moment until you felt the bed shift, spencer was trying to catch a peak. he knew about your journaling habit but he had never seen it up close and personal, and he had never dreamed of it, he knew this was something close and personal to you. but what person doesn't wanna get an insight into their partners' life before they were together? when you felt the bed shift you swiftly closed the journal, with the long drawstring that kept it closed, carefully placed it inside the box, and slid it under your bed, into the darkness once again. you knew nearly everything about spencer, but he knew only so much about you. you didn't talk about your family, not much anyways, you always said things like, “oh yeah my childhood was fine, had my mom and dad, and i grew up alright.” but as a profiler spencer knew there were wounds deep below the surface.
you removed your headphones from your ears and before you could speak spencer beat you to it, “easy there tiger, i'm not gonna look at your journal.” he said in a rather silly way. it made you giggle, “yeah i know spence, just didn't expect you to be up so early!” you brightly said as your climbed back onto the bed, forgetting all about the music playing on your phone. you cuddled next to him, his slim form molding into yours. you like mornings like this, the silence of the birds outside and the sun shining hitting spencers eyes just right, letting them melt into a pool that you could drown in. “want some breakfast spence, it's on the house” on the house was a joke you'd both usually make, he initially met you when you were a waitress, waiting to get into the law field but things didn't take off yet. you worked at the infamous waffle house, yup a fucking waffle house. still, you two didn't start dating until you moved your work to the bau. “sure thing baby, i bet it's gonna be delicious,” and with that you were out of his arms and making your way to your little apartment kitchen, waiting for him to follow behind.
you wanted to trust him, trust that he was just soaking in the sunlight but your mind begged you to think otherwise. so after a few seconds, you came back and peeked your head in, and he seemed to be in deep thought. “hey spence, you coming?” he snapped out of it, and just nodded his head full of curls as he got up from the bed. you spent most of the morning fooling around and eating breakfast, knowing soon enough you had to clock in while spence got to stay back. the hours before that dreadful call at twelve were spent watching your favorite movie, midsommar. spencer found it weird but jesus you couldn't deny it was your favorite. eventually, that dreadful phone call came ringing in, and you knew your lazy morning with spencer was coming to an end. you hurried and got ready, not trying to spend any more time fooling around, more than you already had been. within thirty-five minutes you were ready, your hair in its naturally curly state and you made sure to make yourself look presentable. you were grabbing your bag on your way to the door when spencer stopped you, his tall figure now standing against yours, “you sure you don't want me to drive you?” he asked. you would've said yes if it wasn't for the fact that you had to work late, “no thank you spence, gotta work a little later today! but don't wait up for me, you deserve your rest!” and with a couple of couple kisses to his lips and cheek you were out the door with your cross body bookbag and a light coat.
spencer was left all alone in your apartment, not that he minded by any means, but jesus curiosity was eating him from the inside out. he wandered to your room a couple of times, sitting in the same position as you a couple of times. every time he decided to get up and walk right back to the couch, he couldn't disrespect you like that, he just couldn't. but one look wouldn't hurt, right? how much can a book really contain if he was thinking realistically, many people only write minor things in these sorts of things. so once again he was on the same floor, now facing the bedroom door. he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he needed to know. so he started reading, and at first, there wasn't anything major. it was dated all the way from when you were fifteen and there were multiple journals and letters in this box so this could take a while. almost every passage had an opinion about one of the letters which were all numbered. he feared that maybe they were suicide notes, but as he flipped each one over they had addresses on them, mostly the same one, but some changed depending on the year. he opened number one, reading it before reading the passage about it, these were all from your father. you had told spencer your father was very much in your life and that he always had been. but these letters date back years, years before these journals were even made.
he kept reading and reading and didn't stop, his eyes reading every page rapidly because you wrote a lot with those delicate hands of yours. once he reached letter ten he stopped, it was around eight-thirty now, and he knew that you'd be arriving in a little. so he put the letters and first journal back into the box. sliding it back under the bed just as you did hours before, he let himself sit on the bed. letting everything he read sink in, and there was a lot to let sink in. a part of him felt like he didn't know you, he didn't know any of this before he decided to snoop and maybe it was a good thing he snooped. he learned a lot, about your father being in prison for all of your life, your mother's abusive tendencies, the fucked up things about your siblings and even the worst parts of yourself. he let his head fall into his hands, dragging them down his face and sighing in a stressful manner.
he didn't know you at all, he knew this idealized version of yourself that you created, this fake person. he laid himself on the bed and turned off the bedside light, nothing but the moon letting light into the room, and he soon drifted to sleep. around three-thirty in the morning he felt the bed dip, he wondered if you had just gotten in or if you had been writing for hours. he cuddled against you, no matter what he still loved you, even if what he knew was fake. maybe one day you’d feel comfortable enough to share these secrets with him but for now, these secrets would be held within his mind, until they were bought to light one day.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x black!reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff
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