#Edgar gets a call in the middle of the night like ''Uh...........so I think there's a baby'' ''What do you mean there's a baby''

[vargaslovinghours]

Todd is baby, so - Baby Todd

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Nightshifter

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

An attractive young man, Frank who was also dressed in a dark suit, comes out of the back with some papers in heris hand. (Y/n) turns to face him as he speaks. "So what's it like, being an FBI woman?" Frank asked (y/n). "Well, it's dangerous. And the secrets we've gotta keep, oh God, the secrets. But mostly it's...it's lonely." (Y/n) replied, in a dramatic voice. "I so know what you mean." Frank said and she nods, sagely. "Yeah." She said.

Elsewhere in the store, Sam and Dean, also dressed in suits, are interrogating the manager, a middle aged man. Dean looked over his shoulder to see (y/n) flirting with Frank and he clenches his jaw. "Helena was our head buyer. She...she was family, you know? She said it herself, every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had." The manager said as Dean turns back to the man.

"So there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Sam asked him. "No. Still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing. Cleaned out all the display cases, and the safe. Edgar — our night watchman — he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do, he'd known her for years. He called me at home." The Manager said. "And that's when she took his gun?" Dean asked him "She shot him in the face. I heard him die. Over the phone." The manager said.

"Any idea what her motive could have been?" Sam asked him. "What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry, and then what? Just dump it somewhere, just hide it, and then go home and..." the manager explains as Dean looks down then back over to (y/n) and Frank.

"She killed herself?" (Y/n) asked him. "Well, the cops said. She dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right?" Frank said, questioning, and she nods. "Yeah. Well, thanks, Frank, I think that's all I need." (Y/n) said. "Really? Because I've got more. You know..." Frank said then he looks around, slyly. "If you wanted to interview me sometime. In private?" He asked her.

(Y/n) let's her eyes roam over Frank for a moment then goes to eyes the boys, guiltily, across the room and she could see Dean glaring at her before he turns back to the Manager. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot, you really are. Why don't you write your number down there for me, that'd be good." She said as she turns back to Frank and places a piece of paper in front of him.

"So you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?" Sam asked. "No. The police, they took all the tapes, first thing." The manager said as (y/n) approaches them. "Yeah, of course they did." Dean mutters as (y/n) waves Frank's number at the boys.

*(y/n)'s POV*

Leaving the jewelry store, the boys and I drive down a dark street and pull up in front of a small house. "Five -- this is it." Sam said. "Friggin' cops." Dean growls. "They're just doing their job, Dean." I said to him. "No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it." Dean growls as we get out of the car then he turns to Sam.

"Talk to me about this bank." Dean said to Sam as we approach the house. "Uh, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago." Sam replied. "Same M.O. as the jewelry store?" I asked him. "Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide." Sam replied.

"The guy Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?" Dean asked. "Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place." Sam said and I shake my head. "God." Dean and I muttered. "Yeah." Sam said as he knocks on the screen door.

"Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" Sam calls out then a bright floodlight turns on, and we shield our eyes. "Son of a --" Dean exclaims as a youngish man comes to the door, warily.  "FBI, Mr. Resnick." I said as he looks at us. "Let me see the badge." He said and the boys and I pull out our badges and slap them against the screen door in unison. Ronald squints at them carefully.

"I already gave my statement to the police." He said to us. "Yeah, listen Ronald, um...just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on." Dean said to him. "You read it?" Ronald asked. "Sure did." I said.

"You come to listen to what I've got to say?" He asked us. "Well, that's why we're here." Dean said. "Well. Come on in." He said and he opens the door and leads us through a narrow hallway to a cluttered room; the walls were covered with alien photos and conspiracy theory paraphernalia. 

"None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, we and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards." Ronald explains. "So you let him into the bank that night, after hours." Sam said, questioning.

"The thing I let into the bank...wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan-doll." Ronald said and I raise an eyebrow. "A Juan-doll?" I said, doubtful.

"Look. This wasn't the only time this happened. Okay?" Ronald said then he hands us a file folder. "There was this jewelry store, too. And the cops, a--and you guys, you just won't see it!" He said as Sam looks in the folder; it looked like a Hunter's profile of the jewelry case.

"Both crimes were pulled by the same thing." Ronald said. "What's that, Mr. Resnick?" I asked and Ronald picks up a copy of a magazine called Fortean Times and holds it to his chest. The headline at the bottom reads BIRTH OF THE CYBERMEN.

"Chinese've been working on 'em for years. And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people." He said and Dean smirks. "Like the one from T2." He said and Ronald nods, frantically. "Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a, a, a, a...Mandroid." he said. "A Mandroid?" I said, confused.

"And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?" Dean asked him and Ronald holds up a finger, smiling a little wildly. Moments later, he inserts a VHS tape into a player while he explains. "See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them they'd be buried." He said and Dean and I nod.

"Here." He said as he fast-forwards. "Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th-, th-, there it is!" Ronald said as he pauses the tape. "You see? He's got the laser eyes." He said and we stare at the video and see Juan, facing the camera, with a light-flare in his eyes. The boys and I share a knowing look.

"Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of camera flare. Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it don't matter!" Ronald rants as Sam eyes him cautiously. "The Mandroid is, is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down -- I'll do it myself. You see, this thing, it, it, it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorta, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together." Ronald said and gestures at a map on the wall.

"So I figure the Mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, Mandroid batteries." Ronald said as Dean nods, apparently impressed. I shrug while Sam stares intently then we stand.

"Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the God's honest truth about all of this." Sam said as Dean and I smile, waiting to see what Sam says. "There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else, you understand?" Sam said and Dean and I keep a straight face but both of us glance at each other.

"The laser eyes." Ronald said, desperately. "Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank and that's it." Sam said to him. "Get out of my house! Now!" Ronald yells at us. "Sure. First things first." Sam said and Dean and I frown at Sam in further confusion.

"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you tell that poor son of a bitch that -- what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?" Dean asked as we enter our motel room then Dean laughs. "That's messed up." He said as Sam sits down to watch the tape.

"What are you, pissed at me or something?" Sam asked Dean. "Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here." Dean said and I give him a look

"Mandroid?" I reminded him. "Except for the Mandroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from us. People think we're crazy." Dean said. "Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive." Sam said. "Yeah, I guess." Dean said and he places tracing paper over the map and starts marking it with a red pen as Sam pauses the tape on the flaring eyes. 

"Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video." I said to them. "Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those friggin' things." Dean grumbles. "You think we don't?" Sam asked him. "Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder." Dean said as he traces a pattern on paper of the sewer system.

"Well, look. If this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri..." I said, thinking. "Then Ronald was right. All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?" Dean said. "Yeah." Sam and I said, in unison. "With the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main." Dean said.

Later that evening, a security guard leads me and the boys, now uniformed as Securiserve Guard Service technicians, down the main hall. "Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet." The guard said. "No, this is a glitch in the overall grid. We just want to make sure the branch monitors are kosher." Dean said to him. "Well, better to be safe than sorry, I guess." The guard said.

"That's the plan." I said as we go to the observation room, which had several TV screens showing security footage.  "All righty. You guys need anything else?" The guard asked us. "Oh, no, no, we'll be, uh, we'll be in and out before you know it, just a routine check." Sam said to him. "Okie-dokie." The guard said and he leaves.

"I like him. He says Okie-dokie." Dean said and I snort at this. "Didn't know you were so easily amused." I said and he shrugs. "What if he's the shifter?" Sam asked Dean. "Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chestplate." Dean replied and we sit down to watch the screens. "Okay. Well, you guys got any popcorn?" Dean asks us and I smirk and shake my head.

What felt like hours later, we were still reviewing the screens and see the old guard that lead us here was on one. Luckily, his eyes are normal. "Well, it looks like mister okie-dokie is...okie-dokie." Dean said and Sam sighs. "Maybe we jumped the gun on this, guys. I mean, we don't even know it's here." Sam said as I watch the cameras.

"Maybe we should just go back to the sewers and...and..." Sam said as I noticed something in one of the cameras. "Wait a minute." I said as I point out a middle-aged man turning towards the camera; his eyes flare.

"Hello, freak." I greet and Sam smiles. "Got him." Sam said and he gets up but then I looked back at the camera and my smile falters. "Sam!" I said. "What?" Sam asked and I point at another camera.

We see Ronald scurriying up to the outer door with a chain and a padlock, chaining the door shut. "Hello Ronald." Dean said and we start to walk out of the room then we hear some gunshots. "Oh crap." I muttered as we walk down a hallway towards the main hall; a few panicked people brush past us, running the other way.

"And you said we shouldn't bring guns." Dean grumbles at Sam. "I didn't know this was gonna happen, Dean." Sam said, annoyed. "Just let me and (y/n) do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson." Dean said and we walk, cautiously, to the lobby as Ronald holds up a key.

"Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So nobody's leaving, do you understand?" He yells as we walk up. "Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down." Dean said and Ronald turns to us, startled. "What the- You! Get on the floor, now." He yells at us. "Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us." I said to him as we kneel to the floor.

"I knew it. As soon as you three left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men in black? You working for the Mandroid?" Ronald asked us, panicked. "We're not working for the Mandroid!" Sam yells and Ronald turns to him. "You, shut up! I ain't talking to you. I don't like you." He growled and Dean gives Sam an I told you so look.

"Fair enough." Sam mutters as Ronald turns to one of the hostage that were huddled together at the other side of the room. "Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!" Ronald ordered and a middle-aged black man comes over to us and frisks us and finds a knife in Dean's boot. 

"Now what have we here?" Ronald asked and Sam glares at Dean. "I'm not just gonna walk in here naked!" Dean exclaims as Ronald takes the knife. "Get back there." He said and he drops the knife in the deposit box. "No, no, no, no, no!" Dean winces and I turn to Ronald.

"We know you don't want to hurt anybody. That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, and why don't you let these people go?" I said. "No! I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself." Ronald exclaims.

"Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here." Dean said. "You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?" Ronald asked. "Come here." I said to him. "What? No." Ronald said. "You're holding the gun, boss, you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something. Come here." I said to him and Ronald approaches cautiously and leans in.

"It's the bank manager." I said to him, quietly. "What?" Ronald asked. "Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes." Dean said, quietly.

"His laser eyes?" Ronald asked. "Yes. No. No!" Dean and I said at the same time before I let out a sigh. "No, look, we're running out of time, okay? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else." I said to him. "Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar." Ronald spat and Dean and I exchange a look before both of us stand up, cautiously, both of our hands out.

"I'll shoot both of you! Get down!" Ronald yelled at us. "Take us. Okay? Take us with you, take us as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change." Dean said but Ronald still doesn't move and aims his gun at us.

"Look at us, man. We believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank." I said to him, calmly. "All right. You two come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!" Ronald said a d there were gasps and cries from the other hostages.

Moments later, he ushers the hostages, including Sam, into the vault. "Come on, move, move! Move, move!" He yells then he turns to Dea . "And you lock it up." He ordered and Dean starts moving the heavy door shut. "It's okay, everyone. Just stay cool." I assured them and I shrug at Sam in apology. Sam swallows, unhappily, just as Dean slams the door shut.

Ronald then precedes me and Dean into a series of offices after we removed our uniform jacket to reveal our normal clothes. "Check behind the desk." Dean sid and we start checking the back room until Ronald yells.

We come back out to see him lying on the floor next to a slimy pile of skin. He screams and stands, pointing his gun at it. "What the hell is that?" Ronald asked, frantically, as Dean turns a lamp on. "Oh, great." Dean mutters and I pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance.

"When it changes form, it sheds its old skin. So, now it could be anybody." I said as I turn to Ronald, who picks up a piece of skin and smelling it. "It's so, so weird. Its robot skin is so lifelike." He said. "Okay, let's get something straight. It's, it's not a Mandroid. It's a shapeshifter." Dean admits and Ronald looks up at us.

"Shapeshifter?" He said, shocked. "Yeah. It's human, more or less. Has human drives -- and in this case it's money. But it generates its own skin, it can shape it to match someone else's features, you know, taller, shorter, male..." I explained. "So it, it, it kills someone and then takes their place." Ronald said, questioning.

"Kills them, doesn't kill them, we don't think it really matters." Dean said as I look through the desk. "What are you doing?" Ronald asked me and I pick up a couple of letter openers and examine it. 

"Nice." I sighed, relieved, then I hand one to Dean before I turn to Ron. "You remember the old werewolf stories? Pretty much came from these guys. Silver's the only thing I've seen that hurts them." I said and Dean and I strides out towards the door. "Come on, Ronald." Dean said as Ronald grimaces at the skin, then follows us, grinning. 

Minutes later, we were walking down a wider hallway while Ronald was still chuckling. "What are you, nuts?" Dean asked him. "That's just it. I'm not nuts. I mean, I was so scared that I was losing my marbles. But this is real! I mean, I, I, I was right! Except for the Mandroid thing. Thank you." He exclaimed, happily. "Yeah, don't mention it." I said as we continue on.

Suddenly, the power cuts out and a few emergency lights click on. "Dammit! No, no, no, no, no, no." Dean growls as I look around. "Son of a bitch!" I muttered.

"What? What is it?" Ronald asked. "They cut the power. Probably their way of saying hi." Dean said. "Who?" Ronald asked. "The cops." Dean and I said, in unison.

"The cops?!" Ronald exclaimed in fear. "Well, you weren't exactly a smooth criminal about this, Ron. I mean, you didn't even secure the security guard. He probably called them." Dean said. "Well, I, I didn't, I didn't think t --" Ronald stammers as we stop walking.

"All right, hang on, hang on, let's just take a breath here for a second, all right? They — they've probably got us surrounded. They've cut the power to the cameras so there's no way of telling who the shapeshifter is." Dean said and we take a breath. "It's not looking good, Ron." I said then Ronald flinches at a noise, bringing the rifle up.

"Did you hear that?" Dean asked us as we looked around.

Turned out that the noise was from more people that were hiding in a closet. We helped them out and brought them back to the vault. Dean opens the door and one of the hostages, a red-haired woman, smiles at us.

"Oh my God, you saved us! You saved us!" She exclaims. "Actually, we just found a few more. Come on, everybody, let's go. Let's go." Dean said and we helped some people in the vault.

"What are you doing?" The woman asked as I look over at Sam. "Sam, look, uh, Ronald. Dean and I need to talk to you." I said and Sam leaves the vault and Dean shuts the door behind him, shrugging apologetically.

"It's shed its skin again. We don't know when - it could be in the halls, it could be in the vault." Dean explained to Sam. "Great. You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police." Sam said, annoyed. "Yeah." Dean mutters. "So even if we do find this damn thing -- how the hell are we gonna get out of here?" Sam asked.

"Well, one problem at a time." I said as I begin to pace. "All right, Dean and I are gonna do a sweep of the whole place, see if we can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together we've got to play a little game of find-the-freak, so...here." I said as I hand him another silver letter opener.

"Found another one of these for you." I said as he takes it. "Now stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody, okay? Help him manage the situation." Dean said. "Help him manage? Are you insane?" Sam asked, his voice rising in anger.

Alerted by Sam's raised voice, Ronald looks over. Dean and I look past Sam and give Ronald a grinning thumbs-up. "Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted..." Dean said. "Understatement!" Sam shouts. "But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay?" I said and we noticed that Ronald was peering out the window, in plain view, and Sam gestures at him in exasperation. 

"Ron! Out of the light!" Dean yells and Ronald moves. "Seriously?!" Sam exclaims. "Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan, I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now crazy's the only game in town, okay?" Dean said and he slaps Sam's on the shoulder and we leave.

Dean and I creep along the dark hallways with a flashlight, listening for sounds and watching for movement. Then we stop and look up, seeing a ceiling panel askew. I pick up a coat rack and begin poking it. Then I dislodge it and a naked body falls to the floor. We turn it over and I recognized it as one of the hostages in the vault, his throat had been slit.

"Both of you stay where you are." Ronald yells at the hostages, cocking his rifle. Sam turns to us and we explain to him, in a whisper, of what we found. Then Sam goes back to the vault. "You know what, Ronald? He's right, we've got to get this man outside. Come on. I've got you." Sam said and he takes the guard from the man, that we know is the shapeshifter.

"Yeah, yeah, let me help you." The shapeshifter said but Sma shakes his head. "Oh, I got him, it's, it's cool. Thanks." Sam said and he gets the guard out of the way. Dean and I glare at the Shapeshifter and approach the vault. 

"Thank you. Thank you." The guard said to Sam. "Sure." Sam said as he leads him out. "Hey, can we talk to you for a second?" Dean asked the shapeshifter as he pulls out a handgun, that he got from the guard earlier. "You got the gun, man. I mean, whatever." The shapeshifter said.

As he gets close enough, he attacks Dean, knocking him to the ground and I get in front of him and start to fight him but he knocks me to the side and starts running into the dark of the hallways. Dean comes over to me and helps me up and we chase after him.

"Stop! Come back here!" Ronald said and I hear hin running after us. "Get down! Now!" I hear Sam shout and Dean and I turn to see a laser pointed at Ronald's back. "Ronald!" I shouted then his body jerks forward then he falls.

Dean and I duck behind a low wall, and we watch, in horror, as Ronald slumps to his knees, then to the floor, dead.

The hostages run out of the vault as Dean and I crawl behind another low wall nearer where Ronald fell. Sam ducks down beside us, all three of us panting. Sam pulls out the key and hands it to Dean. "Here. Take care of the guard. (Y/n) and I we going after the shifter." Sam said and he runs off while I give a sympathetic look towards Ronald then chase after Sam.

Sam and I approach a broom closet and open it suddenly but it's empty. We hear something behind us and turned around to see the red-head woman and the other hostages behind us. "Please don't hurt us!" She pleads. "You shouldn't be back here right now! You're in danger! Now go back to the vault. Now!" Sam said and they run back.

After hearding the hostages back, Sam and I make our way back to look, only to fknd another shed skin. We sighed at this then I call Dean. "Yeah?" Dean answered. "Slipped his skin." I said. "What?" Dean exclaims. "Yeah, bastard shifts fast. A lot faster than the one in St. Louis." I said, annoyed. "God, it's like playing the shell game. It could be anybody. Again." Dean said.

"Yeah, I think most of the employees are out of the vault by now." I said. "All right, you two search every inch of this place, I'm gonna go round everybody up." Dean said and he hangs up while Sam and I continue to search.

*3rd Person POV*

Dean herds the hostages back into the vault just as the red-haired woman turns to him. "And I thought you were one of the good guys." She said, angry. "What's your name?" Dean asked her. "Why would you care?" She growls.

"My name's Dean." He introduced. "I'm Sherry." She said. "Hi, Sherry. Everything's gonna be all right. This will all be over soon, okay?" He assures her then he shuts the vault door and spins the lock as the landline rings. He sets down his handgun and answers it. 

"Yeah?" He said. "This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen." The voice at the other end said. "Yeah, listen, I'm not really in the negotiating mood right now, so ––" Dean started to say but Henriksen interrupts him. "Good. Me neither. It's my job to bring you in. Alive's a bonus but not necessary." 

"Whoa. Kinda harsh for a Federal Agent, don't you think?" Dean asked him. 'Well, you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean?" Henriksen asked and Dean looks up, horrified. "I want you, Sam and (y/n) out here, unarmed. Or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam and (y/n) too." Henriksen said.

"How'd you even know we were here?" Dean asked. "Go screw yourself, that's how I knew. It's become my job to know about you, Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis, I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad." Henriksen said and Dean clenches his jaw.

"Hey, you don't know crap about my dad." Dean replied, darkly. "Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to." Henriksen said. "You got no right talking about my dad like that. He was a hero." Dean growls.

"Yeah. Right. Sure sounds like it. You have one hour to make a decision or we come through those doors full automatic." Henriksen said and he hangs up the phone. Dean then pounds his forehead in frustration as he hangs up the phone.

Meanwhile, Sam and (y/n) see blood on the floor in front of a closet. Sam opens it quickly, and the half-dressed body of Sherry falls out, her throat is slit. "Dammit." Sam growls as (y/n) punched the wall.

*(y/n)'s POV*

Sam and I make our way back to the vault room, where Dean is waiting. "Hey. We've got a bit of a problem outside." Dean said. "We got a problem in here." I said as I gesture towards the vault and Sam and I tell him what we found.

Moments later, Dean open the vault and the hostages flinch and look around. "Sherry? We're gonna let you go." Dean said to the red-haired lady. "What? Why me?" She asked. "Uh, as a show of good faith to the feds, come on." I replied as she looks between us.

"Uh...I think I'd, I'd rather stay here, with the others." She said and Dean approaches her. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist." He said and she looks at us warily. 

After a long pause, she approaches us and we shut the vault and push her back to the hallway. "I thought you were letting me go." She said and Dean shoves her forward, holding her head and forcing her to look at the body. She begins screaming hysterically. 

"Is that community theater, or are you just naturally that good?" I asked her as she continues to scream. "This is the last time you become anybody. Ever." Sam said. "No! Oh God! Ohhhh...." she cries then she faints.

Then boys and I stare at her, baffled, then back at the other body. Dean removes a rifle from his shoulder and kneels over Sherry. He raises the blade with a shrug, but Sam puts out a hand to stop him. "Dean, wait, wait, wait. What's the advantage of this plan? I mean, fainting now wouldn't help it survive." Sam said then Dean looks back at the other body.

Dean kneels over the other body, then looks up just as he hears a noise, we look up as well. Then we look back at the body, just as it grabs Dean by the throat. As he struggles and stabs at it, Sherry starts to wake up then screams again. Sam and I go over to her as Dean looks over at us. "Get her outta here! Now!" Dean yells and continues struggling with the shapeshifter while Sam, Sherry and I leave.

As we run, we hear the cops coming in and we left Sherry in the corner of the hall then head down the hallway. "Freeze! Let me see your hands." A voice commanded just as we see lights. Sam and I stop then we share a look and nod, slightly. We turn abruptly and take out three armored policemen then we take their clothes and armor and stuff their bodies in a closet.

Sam and I, quickly, put on the armor then carry the extra armor for Dean and began to look for him. Finally we find him standing over the shapeshifter's dead body and we shine our flashlight on him. He looks up at us, panting, and we smiled then handed him the armor to him.

Sometime later, the three of us, in S.W.A.T. armor with weapons, exited the bank and began running up stairs on the outside of a buildlng. We exit the stairs and turn into the deck of a parking garage, walking to the Impala. We get into the car and pull off our masks, panting, and sit in silence for a moment.

"We are so screwed." Dean mutters and Sam nods minutely. "Yeah, big time." I said. Dean starts the car then we pull out of the parking garage.

[phoebenavarro]

into the woods and out of the woods (a w.bg ficlet)

Mike said he doesn't like Into the Woods and I just knew I had to write something with Mikey and Edgar arguing about musicals, so have a ficlet

woe.begone, mikey/edgar, fluff, 668 words

crossposted to ao3 here

Mikey knocks on the door to Edgar’s office in Base and pokes his head in. 

“Hey babe, you working?” 

Edgar looks up from his monitor. “No, actually, you caught me on a break. Hey, come in for a second. What do you think about taking a trip to New York?” 

Mikey comes into the office and closes the door behind him. “New York? Like, City? Uh, not super crazy about being stuck in the crowds.” 

Edgar knows his Mikey’s idea of a great vacation is more along the lines of staying in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and cuddle in bed, but that’s basically every night they spend together in one of their cabins at OVER. He beckons Mikey to come back around the desk and look at his screen. 

“Me neither, really, but… There’s a revival of Into the Woods on Broadway right now. We could take a calculator and have a nice weekend together, away from Base.” 

“Babe,” Mikey whines, leaning down next to Edgar to see the website for the production. “You know I don’t like Into the Woods.” 

“Not this again,” Edgar says, smiling fondly.

“It’s not my fault you have bad taste in musicals,” Mikey grumbles. 

“Come on, Mikey Bear, you yourself have said it’s not a bad musical. You just don’t like it, and that is perfectly okay with me.” He turns to Mikey, and since Mikey’s face is level with his, he pecks him on the cheek. 

Mikey screws up his face in consideration, color rushing to his cheeks. “I mean, I think it would be sacrilegious against the musical theatre gods or whatever to call any Sondheim musical bad.” 

“Yeah, you’d probably get struck by lightning,” Edgar jokes. “Or you’d get attacked by an angry theatre kid, and I’m not sure which is worse.” 

Mikey laughs. “I’ll take the lightning.” 

Edgar grins. That’s his Bear. “You have to admit, it is objectively one of the best musicals of all time.” 

“Please,” Mikey rolls his eyes. “It’s not even one of Sondheim’s best musicals. Not even top three.” 

Edgar raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And tell me, Bear, what is Sondheim’s best work, in your estimation?” 

“Gladly,” Mikey says, puffing up his chest. “Obviously, it’s Assassins.” 

Edgar has now raised both eyebrows. “Interesting choice.” 

“The way the music captures the musical era of each assassin is really incredible, and it’s a concept show that actually works.” He smirks to himself. “Take notes, Andrew Lloyd Webber.” 

“While I do think that Cats has it’s charms, I won’t argue with you there.” 

“If by ‘charms', you mean ‘Skimbleshanks the Railway cat,’ then yes, I agree completely.” 

Edgar rolls his eyes lovingly. “That was the one good scene in that equally boring and horrifying adaptation. C’mon, it’s not like I’m asking you to go see that again. And you have said that my affection for Into the Woods makes you like it more…” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to spend a hundred dollars per ticket to see it on Broadway,” Mikey says, but Edgar can tell his resistance is crumbling. 

“Not even for me? For my birthday, maybe?” Edgar bats his eyelashes at him. 

Mikey fixes an indignant scowl on his face. “You’re a menace.” 

“Maybe we can have the best of both worlds, Bear. We’ll go to New York, see Into the Woods, and then we’ll see if we can find a professional production of Assassins in this time period. I mean, there has to be, I’ll do some research.” 

Mikey sighs. Edgar knows he’d do anything for him, including sitting through Into the Woods. The things he does for love. “Fine, that sounds reasonable.” 

“Wonderful! And did I mention, Sara Bareilles is in it?” 

“Uh, no, you absolutely should have lead with that, Panther!” 

Edgar laughs. “Sorry, babe.” 

“We could have skipped the whole persuading thing, it really would have been much more efficient.” 

“But now I know you’re doing it because you love me, so I think that’s a win.” 

[aspenmissing]

𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

An attractive young woman comes out of the back with some papers in her hand. Dean turns to face her as she speaks. He is dressed in a dark suit.

"So, what's it like, being an FBI guy?" The woman asks.

"Well, it's dangerous. And the secrets we've gotta keep, oh. God, the secrets. But mostly it's, it's lonely"

"I so know what you mean" Dean nods sagely.

"Yeah" Elsewhere in the store: Sam, also dressed in a suit, with slicked hair, and Theo, dresses in a white blouse, pants and jacket, hair tied up in a messy bun, are interrogating the manager, a middle-aged man.

"Helena was our head buyer. She... she was family, you know? She said it herself, every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had" he says.

"So, there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Theo asks.

"No. Still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing. Cleaned out all the display cases, and the safe. Edgar- our night watchman-he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do, he'd known her for years. He called me at home"

And that's when she took his gun?" Sam says.

"She shot him in the face. I heard him die. Over the phone"

"Any idea what her motive could have been.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewellery, and then what? Just dump is somewhere, just hide it, and then go home and-"

==

"She killed herself?" Dean asks.

"Well, the cops said. She dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right"

"Yeah. Well, thanks Frannie, I think that's all I need"

"Really? Because I've got more. You know" Frannie looks around slyly "If you wanted to interview me sometime. In private?" Dean eyes Sam and Theo guiltily across the room.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot, you really are. Why don't you write your number down there for me, that'd be good"

==

"So, you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?" Theo says.

"No. The police, they took all the tapes, first thing" Dean approaches.

"Yeah, of course they did" He waves Frannie's number at Sam and Theo.

==

Leaving the jewellery store, Sam, Dean and Theo drive down a dark street and pull up in front of a small house.

"Five--this is it" Theo says.

"Friggin' cops"

"They're just doing their job, Dean"

"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it. Talk to me about this bank" They get out of the car and approach the house.

"Um, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago"

"Same M.O. as the jewellery store?"

"Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide" Theo says.

"The guy Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?"

"Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place"

"God" Dean says.

"Yeah" Sam knocks on the screen door "Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" A bright floodlight turns on, and they shield their eyes.

"Son of a-" A youngish man comes to the door warily.

"FBI, Mr. Resnick"

"Let me see the badge" Sam, Dean and Y/N pull out badges and slap them against the screen door in unison. Ronald squints at them carefully.

"I already gave my statement to the police"

"Yeah, listen Ronald, um...just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on"

"You read it?" Ronald asks.

"Sure did" Theo says.

"You come to listen to what I've got to say"

"Well, that's why we're here"

"Well. Come on in" Ronald opens the door and leads them through a narrow hallway to a cluttered room; the walls are covered with alien photos and conspiracy theory paraphernalia "None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, we and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards"

"So, you let him into the bank that night, after hours" Sam says.

"The thing I let into the bank...wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like If a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a bug Juan-doll"

"A Juan-doll?" Theo says doubtfully.

"Look. This wasn't the only time this happened. Okay?" Ronalds says handing Sam a file folder "There was this jewellery store, too. And the cops, a--and you guys, you just won't see it!" Sam looks in the folder; it looks like a Hunter's profile of the jewellery case "Both crimes were pulled by the same thing"

"What's that, Mr. Resnick?" Theo asks. Ronald picks up a copy of a magazine called 'Fortean Times' and holds it to his chest. The headlines at the bottom reads 'Birth of the Cybermen'

"Are we living in Doctor who or something" Theo mutters to herself.

"Chinese’ ve been working on 'em for years. And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that change itself, make itself look like other people" Dean smirks.

"Like the one from T2"

"Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a, a, a, a... Manroid"

"A Manroid?"

"And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?" Theo asks. Ronald holds up a finger, smiling a little wildly. Later, Ronald inserts a VHS tape into a player.

"See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they'd be buried" Dean nods "Here" Ronald fast-forwards the tape "Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th-, th-, there it is!" Ronald pauses the tape "You, see? He's got the laser eyes" On the tape, Juan is facing the camera with a light-flare in his eyes. Sam, Dean and Theo share a knowing look "Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of 'camera flare'. Okay? Aint no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it doesn’t matter!" Theo eyes him cautiously as he continues to rant. "The Mandroid is, is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down -- I'll do it myself. You see, this thing, it, it, it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorts of, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together" Ronald gestures at a map on the wall "So I figure the Mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, Mandroid batteries" Dean nods, apparently impressed. Sam and Theo stares intently; they both stand.

"Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the God's honest truth about all of this" Dean and Theo smiles, waiting to see what Sam says "There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else. You understand" Dean and Theo look at each other as they try to keep a straight face, but the two are clearly startled. Sam starts to say something.

"The laser eyes" Ronald says desperate.

"Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank and that's it"

"Get out of my house! Now!"

"Sure. First things first" Theo frowns at Sam in further confusion.

==

Sam, Dean and Theo return to their motel room, which has the obligatory Tacky Wall Decorations. They're dressed in ordinary clothing again.

"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you say that poor son of a bitch that -- what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?" Theo laughs "That's messed up" Sam sits down to watch the tape.

"What are you, pissed at me or something?"

"Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fred you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here"

"Manroid?"

"Except for the Manroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from you or me. People think we're crazy" Dean says.

"Yeah, except he's not a hunter. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive"

"Yeah, I guess" Dean places tracing paper over the map and starts marking it with a red pen as Sam pauses the tape on the flaring eyes.

"Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video" Theo says.

"Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those friggin' things"

"You think we don't?" Sam says.

"Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder" Dean is tracing a pattern on paper of the sewer system.

"Well, look. If this shifter's anything like the one who killed in Missouri"

"Then Ronald was right. All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?"

"Yeah"

"With the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main" Hours later, the three arrive at the bank. A security guard leads Sam, Dean and Theo, now uniformed as Security serve Guard Service technicians, down the main hall.

"Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet" The guard says.

"No, this is a glitch in the overall grid. We just want to make sure the branch monitors are kosher" Y/N says.

"Well, better to be safer than sorry, I guess"

"That's the plan" Dean says. The Guard opens the door to an observation room with several TV screens showing security footage.

"All righty. You guys need anything else?" The guard asks.

"Oh, no, no, we'll be, uh, we'll be in and out before you know it, just a routine check"

"Okie-dokie" the guard leaves

"I like him. He says 'Okie-dokie" Dean says.

"What if he's the shifter?" Sam says.

"Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chest plate" Theo says. They sit down to watch the screens.

"Okay. Well, you got any popcorn?"

"Or beer?" Theo asks. Later, the three are still reviewing the screens; the Guard is on one, and his eyes are normal.

"Well, it looks like mister okie-dokie is...okie-dokie"

"Maybe we jumped the gun on this, Guys. I mean, we don't even know it's here" Dean seems distracted.

"Mm-hmm"

"Maybe we should just go back to the sewers and... and..."

"...and he's not listening" Theo says. Dean is zooming one of the cameras in on the ass of an attractive young woman who is bending over.

"Dean, we're supposed to be looking for eyes" Sam says, exasperated.

"I'm getting there"

"Oh yeah?" Theo says.

"Wait a minute" On another screen, a middle-aged man turns towards the camera; his eyes flare "Hello, freak"

"Got him" Sam and Dean heads for the door, but Theo lingers behind, looking at another screen.

"Guys!"

"What?" The two ask in unison. They watch as Ronald scurries up to the outer door with a chain and a padlock, chaining the door shut.

"Hello Ronald" Theo says. Later, Sam, Dean and Theo walk down a hallway towards the main hall; a few panicked people brush past them, running the other way.

"And you said we shouldn't bring guns" Dean says.

"I don't know this was gonna happen, Dean"

"Just let us do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson" Theo says. In the Main Hall of the bank, holding up a key.

"Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So, nobody's leaving, do you understand" The siblings enter.

"Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down" Theo says.

"What the-You! Get on the floor, now" Ronald says, pointing the gun at the three.

"Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us" Dean says, as the three kneel on the ground.

"I knew it. As soon as you three left. You aint FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men and I guess woman in black? You working for the Mandroid?"

"We're not working for the Manroid!" Sam shouts.

"You, shut up! I aint talking to you. I don't like you" Theo huffs a laugh and Dean gives Sam an' I told you so' look' "Fair enough" Ronald turns to one of the hostages.

"Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!" A middle-aged black man goes over to Sam, Dean and Theo and frisks them; he finds two knives in Dean and Theo's boots.

"Now what have we here?"

"Oh my, how did that get in there?" Theo says, smiling sheepishly.

"We're not just gonna walk in here naked!" Dean shouts on Sam's look. Ronald takes the knives.

"Get back there" he tells the hostage and drops the knives in the deposit box. They clatter.

"No, no, no, no, no!" The twins say in unison and wince.

"We know you don't want to hurt anybody. That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, and why don't you let these people go?" Dean says.

"No! I already told you. If nobody’s gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself"

"Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here" Dean says and Theo nods.

"You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?"

"Come here" Theo says.

"What? No"

"You're holding the gun, boss, you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something" Ronald approaches cautiously and leans in "It's the bank manager"

"What?" Ronald asks.

"Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes"

"His laser eyes?"

"Yes. No. No! No, look, we're running out of time, okay? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else" Dean says.

"Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar" Theo stands cautiously, hands out "I'll shoot you! Get down!"

"Take me. Okay? Take me with you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change" There is a short pause "Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank" Dean and Sam look at her as if she is crazy.

"All right. You come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!" The other hostages gasp and cry. Later, Ronald ushers the hostages, including Sam and Dean, into the vault "Come on, move, move! Move, move!" Ronald turns to Theo "And you lock it up" Theo starts moving the heavy door shut.

"It's okay, everyone. Just stay close" She shrugs at Sam and Dean in apology; Dean swallows unhappily and Sam frowns at her; Theo slams the door shut.

[georgiaheartsdilfs]

→ that one scene sebastian s x f!reader

inspired by @halahussain666 's comment on my sex scene (chris evans) imagine! my masterlist ↪M A S T E R L I S T

prompt ↪You and Sebastian have a new film together called, 'fresh' where you are the main character. You and Sebastian have known each other for years and for the past two years you've been dating undercover. When at an interview you get asked about that one scene in your movie and what it was like to film it.

"filming like the uh that one scene"

warnings / other notes ↪mentions of sex/smut and also short ↪ i couldn't think of a movie title so pretend it's fresh and you replace daisy edgar-jones (love her tho)

This morning was a muck around, Sebastian and I woke up late and our interview was in less than two hours not to mention that it wasn't online like every other one.

"y/n hunny do you know where my green leather jacket is?" he asks walking into the bathroom where I was putting in my ear rings "uh did you check my formal wardrobe it might be in there?" I say looking into the mirror to see if I got it in the hole.

"why would it be there" he walks out "I wore it once to a premiere" I respond stepping back to look at my outfit. He walks back in with his jacket smiling "looking gorgeous my love" he says pulling me in for a kiss wrapping his arms around my waist and I chuckle.

I check my watch and gasp "shit Seb we're getting later by the minute we got to go" I say patting his chest as he runs into our room grabbing the keys and his phone, he picks up mine hand it to me.

We rush out the door as I lock the door and he unlocks the car.

Arriving at the set of the interview the crowd claps laughing, our managers had made it before us "great you're about ten minutes late" my manager Eric says "It was my fault, I was too busy finding my earrings and Sebastian was ready outside waiting for me" I say with an awkward shrug. "Sebastian came the time we agreed on and you know uh I wasn't ready" I lie, Nobody knew about me and Sebastian except for our managers and we couldn't exactly say that we woke up late in front of the interviewers. "Hi I'm Nick" the male interviewer says placing out his hand and I shake it "Hi how are you, sorry we're late" I say apologetically and Nick introduces himself to Sebastian who also apologises. Eric pulls me aside "what really happened?" he asks me in a quiet subtle tone "we woke up late, we missed the alarm and everything" I say pushing loose strands of hair out of my face "what did you do last night?" he asks "literally nothing we were in bed early and everything" I say shrugging it off "alright" Eric says pushing it aside and we get ready for the interview. Nick shows us to the big comfy sofa we are going to sit on "you can both sit there i'm gonna sit here" he smiles sweetly at us and Sebastian and I nod sitting down next to each other right in the middle of the sofa. "recording in 3... 2... 1 " the film crew says and I smile adjusting my dress, Nick introduces the video and promos our new movie. "Hey" Sebastian says "Hi" I wave to the camera "Now before we get into the interview how are you guys?" Nick asks and I look at Sebastian who was smiling at me "uh i'm great" I chuckle looking at Nick "Sebastian?" i say looking at Sebastian who was staring lovingly at me "Yeah no I'm great besides the fact we came late to the interview" he laughs as do I. "Now you're new movie fresh, what should we expect or prepare for" Nick asks looking up from his notepad "sex" i nod "am i allowed to say that?" I look around to the crew who all nod. "right well yeah, sex but don't eat food when watching the movie, maybe you could for the first half an hour but after that no food" I say and Nick laughs "yeah no food" Sebastian laughs. "alright and you know after watching the movie yourself what is your initial reaction" Nick says and I look at Sebastian indicating for him to talk "Uh well it's better than I thought, you know obviously i knew what its about but its scarier than i thought" he says "yeah its freaky" I agree with him. "so you two it's just the norm pretending to have sex on screen?" Nick asks as Sebastian and I both shrug nodding "pretty much" Sebastian said containing his laughter by leaning back on the sofa placing his arm behind me. "what is it like filming with such an old friend obviously you guys have known each other for such a long time" Nick says "Oh god its always nice to see a familiar face but then again I see Sebastian all the time, I often call him to check up on what he's doing sometimes we do movie nights" I say turning to Sebastian "movie nights is her falling asleep on my couch and disappearing by the morning by the way" Sebastian adds onto the fake story. I hit him jokingly laughing "and whatever Mackie says about his sofa it's completely true, its comfy" I say pointing at the camera proudly "no because now everybody will think that" He says throwing his head back "its true he's confirmed i've been at his house, mackie i've got your back" I wink. "I have a question you know of course we had to ask since we asked about sex, you guys have known each other for a while uh" Nick clears his throat "what was it like filming like the uh that one scene towards the end of the movie" Nick says uncomfortably "that was my reaction when i read the script" Sebastian laughs "can we say what happened?" Sebastian asks and the film crew nods once again. "if anyone hasn't watched the movie, spoiler alert, uh so yeah it was weird you know right when you think you're finally after many years of being friends you'd get to first base with y/n y/l/n" he pauses laughing "she uh" he pauses once more "she bites my uh down

there with her razer sharp teeth, you know of course earlier in the first part of the movie that one was fine because it was our job" Sebastian says laughing. "yeah like because Mimi had told me what I was doing and I look over to Seb who was you know obviously scared as was I because I wouldn't want to bite his uh, yeah that off" I say laughing and Sebastian curls over laughing grabbing his boob. "yeah it was odd" he says composing himself "and the first one?" Nick asks "oh that was easy" I smile and Nick raises an eyebrow and I laugh "no not like that you dirty man I mean like because we both know how sex works in the acting world so its easy" I say catching myself before i accidentally slipped up. "great one more question before we end this, uh, Are you planning to be in any other movies together?" Nick asks and Sebastian looks at me as he covers his crotch with his arms "i hope so you know i love Sebastian, i love working with him on and off set its always nice to walk in and see him" I smile looking at him "yeah uh i love working with y/n i'd do it again for free if anybody wanted" he laughed awkwardly. We wrapped up the interview and as Sebastian stands up I stand in front of him "this is embarrassing" he mumbles quietly to me "it's fine" I smile sweetly to him, we were all standing with the film crew, Sebastian covering his bulge with his jacket that he was now holding. Minutes pass and the minutes turns into an hour and Sebastian groans in my ear "can we go" he whines in my ear "uhm hey it was nice meeting you guys but Sebastian has to drop me off home before my gym session" I smile sweetly "alright it was great meeting you both" Nick says as Sebastian and I wave our goodbyes. Sitting in the car Sebastian moans throwing his head back "I'm glad I don't have to hide this with you, otherwise i'd be screwed" he sighs in relief "if it was any of those other hot film crews ladies you'd be screwed too" I say turning on the car "definitely not" he mumbles. "then what makes you hard in the middle of an interview sebastian?" I ask him "the person i'm doing the interview with?" he replies with a duh tone "Nick? I didn't know you went that way" I chuckle "no you idiot, you, it's your fault" he mumbled "wait till we get home love i promise" I laugh at him groaning in frustration. "isn't this how I get blue balls" he whines "yup" I say "i hate you" he says laying his chair back "when you propose you can say that without me getting offended" I say slowing down at a red light. Arriving home was hectic, Sebastian jumped out of the car running to the door and unlocking it before running upstairs to our room and slamming the door shut. I walk into the house kicking off my heels flopping onto the sofa "y/n you promised" Sebastian groans from upstairs "yes i know i'm coming" I jump up sprinting upstairs. imagine the rest

[lovetorn]

all for the game [dream]

Exy player!Dream x Reader

summary: dream runs into trouble when the florida falcons play the edgar allan ravens.

w/c: 3.4k+ :D

warnings: violence, blood, swearing, ha typical exy shit

a/n: an au based on my favourite book trilogy, all for the game. idea by 🍀 anon <3 i wrote this for my own enjoyment AHHAHAAH. if u don’t understand the rules etc of exy, it’s basically hockey, soccer and lacrosse meshed together, but if u have any questions, send me an ask!

��

Exy is a bastard sport, an evolved sort of lacrosse with the violence of ice hockey. Dream loves every aspect of it. It is vastly different from the usual college football, and it certainly gives you more bruises. Maybe a little too many more bruises. Played in a stadium, on a soccer-sized basketball court with plexiglass to protect the crowd, it brings Dream immense joy.

Scooping the ball into the net of his racket, Dream looks at the wall before he uses his body to launch the ball towards it. The ball is quick to bounce back and plop into Dream’s net. He adjusts his grip on the stick and tilts his head, deciding where his next shot should be.

“Dream?” The dirty blonde turns around and sees you push through the plexiglass door that leads onto the court. “Hey!”

Dream smiles from under his helmet. “Hi, Y/n!” You don't play Exy, choosing to watch your best friend from the sidelines instead. He grips the grate of his helmet and slides his head out of it, his hair sticking up in every direction. “What are you doing here?”

You throw your arms up. “Coming to see you practice the great sport that is Exy,” You laugh before spinning around and looking up at the highest seats of the stadium. “Haven’t broken a bone yet, I assume?” This made Dream laugh.

“No, not yet. Saving that for the game against the Ravens.”

Dream’s determination for Exy scared you a little bit—it was almost like he wanted to get hurt. “Easy, tiger. We all know what happened last time we played them. Never again, please,” You shake your head, walking closer to him. The last time the Florida Falcons played the West Virginia Edgar Allan Ravens, Dream got a concussion so bad he couldn’t walk for a few days. You had sworn they would pay for their damage, but Dream went against you.

Dream rolls his eyes, lightheartedly. “That’s the way the game goes, Y/n. No way you can stop it,” he said that back then, too. You throw him a glare before taking the racket out of his hand to gain his full attention.

“Just, please be careful.” You practically beg. Dream’s eyebrows raise slightly, surprised. He didn’t see that coming.

“Yeah, always,” He follows your eyes as they trace the scar that runs from his temple to the middle of his forehead. You sigh and pass his racket back to him.

—

The dark purple Edgar Allan Ravens bus pulls into the Falcon’s home stadium car park that Friday night. Fans from all over the state and West Virginia crowd the entrances and surprisingly, there are a lot more supporters in purple and black than green and white.

Dream looks down at his forest green Exy uniform and smooths out his jersey. He rolls his neck in a circle to release the building tension. A hand clamps down on his shoulder as Dream slips his hands into his green and white gloves.

“You’re gonna be fine, dude. We all are,” Sapnap says, although Dream can hear the waver in his voice. Dream shakes his head and Sapnap inhales sharply.

“Nah, we won’t be.”

Sapnap slides his hand off of Dream’s shoulder and turns around, probably going to the bathroom to calm his crippling trepidation. The locker room is silent as the team moves around, changing and preparing themselves for the game ahead. Dream tries not to think about the team on the other side of the stadium, who are most likely already warming up despite the game starting in an hour.

Dream opens his locker and fumbles around for his phone. He needs to know that you’re here. Opening his messages, he’s frozen from the notifications coming through.

I hope your little friend prayed for you last night.

You got lucky with that concussion. Take this as a warning.

Dream’s fingertips trail up to hover above the scar on his forehead. He clenches his fist and throws his phone back into the locker, not flinching when the dark green metal dents. Dream leans his head against his forearm that rests on the locker.

“Dream! Dude, calm down,” A voice calls from across the room. Footsteps come up behind him and Dream has to stop the tears collecting on his waterline. “It’ll be fine, Coach said he might put you on for one half.”

George’s comments do nothing to soothe Dream’s anxiety. Dream has told nobody about the threats he’s been getting for a few days leading up to this game. If he told you, he wouldn’t even be here. You.

Dream ducks down to find his phone. George furrows his eyebrows as he watches. “Wha—?”

Grasping his phone, Dream then stalks out of the locker room. He walks down the hallway towards the inner court, presses your phone number on his now-smashed phone, and brings it to his ear. Pick up, pick up. “Dream?”

The sound of your voice makes Dream exhale deeply. “Where are you?” He asks desperately.

Dream can hear the crowd chattering through the phone as he scans over the stadium trying to find you.

“Uh, section 4, row 38, where I am every home game. Why? Is everything okay?” The worry in your voice is evident and it fails to calm Dream down like he thought it would. And when he sees waves of purple instead of green, his anxiety grows.

“I—Y/n. I need to see you, I don’t—I can’t,” Dream screws his eyes shut and tries to breathe through his nose slowly.

“Dream, I’m coming. I can see you in the inner court. Stay there.”

Y/n hangs up after that and Dream looks at his phone.

Scared? A text says from an unknown number.

Dream presses his tongue into the inside of his cheek and blinks a few times. A knock on the plexiglass behind him startles Dream. He turns and sees you smiling. He lifts his hand in a small wave and you do the same, laughing at him. At least he has a way to take his mind off of the shit with the Ravens.

A bell signals the start of the line-up announcements and Dream throws his thumb over his shoulder. You nod, understandingly, and blow him a kiss. Dream smiles shyly, his cheeks growing pink before he turns to leave.

You make your way back up to your seat, your legs bouncing in anticipation as the Ravens walk on the court one by one while the announcer calls the line-up. Once the Ravens are in a line on the halfway line, the Falcons are announced.

Since teams are co-ed, the variances in heights differ greatly. The Ravens are much taller than a majority of the Falcons, which gives them an advantage, to an extent. Dream had told you that being shorter allows you to move around the court with more agility, but being 6’2’’, Dream chose to be a striker instead of a dealer or a backliner.

“Number 2, Dream Tucker.”

At the sound of your best friend’s name, you stand and cheer, earning a few dirty looks from Ravens fans. As the remainder of the team is announced, you grow more nervous than you thought possible. A warning buzzer sounds and both teams go back to their benches.

“Alright, guys, this is our biggest game of the season, again. The last game against these idiots wasn’t ideal, but don’t let that deter you from doing your best tonight. That goes for you too, Dream," Coach looks towards Dream and he nods. Dream draws his bottom lip between his teeth from under his helmet and looks down at the ground. Sapnap’s hand slaps Dream's back in support and then the rest of the team is in agreement.

At his teammates’ words, Dream huffs. He can do this. The starting team goes onto the court, the doors closing behind them with a thump and then the scrape of a lock.

Dream sits on the bench next to Punz and Liliana. They hear the buzzer go off again and then watch as Sapnap flicks the ball into the air and slams it with his racket. There’s a distinctive crack as both teams race off their lines to find their preferred place on the court along with the players they need to mark. Three bodies crash into each other and the ball pops out on the other side, rolling silently.

At the sight of violence, the stadium roars. A Ravens backliner throws the ball and it hits the plexiglass in front of Dream who jumps in surprise. The ball is picked up off the floor by another Ravens player. He throws it to a girl who is running across the court and it lands perfectly into her net. Dream sees Tegan bodyslam the girl into the wall, the glass shuddering under their weight and Sapnap throws his hand up in a thumbs-up at Tegan, who smiles under her helmet.

The ball sails high in the air and players push and shove each other under it. As it comes down, George gets pushed to the floor, skidding to a stop a few feet away. The Ravens striker looks George dead in the eye and smirks as he catches the ball. He then tosses it powerfully towards the home court goal and the Falcons' goalie, Gabby, hits it up the court and away from herself. Dream, Punz and Liliana cheer from their spots on the subs bench.

“Nice one, Gabs! Falcons down the court!” Coach yells through the plexiglass.

Dream wears a smile when he turns back to look at you. You grin back, give him a thumbs-up, and nod. That’s when Dream knows he’s ready.

But, ten minutes into the game, the Ravens break the Falcons defensive line. The ball slips through the gap between Gabby’s torso and racket and lands in the back of the net, the siren above the goal going red and blaring a high-pitched sound. The Ravens don’t hug or cheer and return to their places on the court. Their fans, however, throw insults and middle fingers up at the Falcons while screaming and hollering.

“Fuck’s sake,” Dream mumbles. Punz slaps his pair of gloves against the bench and Liliana shakes her head.

The game went on like this for the rest of the half—the Ravens scoring 6 more goals, the Falcons scoring none. At half-time, Sapnap throws his helmet on the floor of the locker room.

“I fucking hate these guys,” He curses, pacing around the room. Coach sits on a chair, his elbows on his knees.

“We all do, but complaining about it isn’t going to help us win,’ Dream says. “Coach put me on.”

Coach looks at Dream for a moment. The tension in the room is thick and Dream knows he’s pushing his luck by asking. Nonetheless, Coach sighs before nodding stiffly.

“Dream goes on for Peter, Punz on for Drew, Liliana on for Tegan.”

And so it’s decided. Dream’s thumbs fly across his screen as he texts you. You pull your phone out of your pocket at the sound of your text tone and see the message. I’m on.

You smirk softly at it and message him back before you tuck your phone back into your pocket. The warning buzzer sounds and then both teams are back on the court: the Ravens with a whole new line-up and the Falcons with their three new subs.

Dream’s heart pounds in his chest, sending shuddery heat through every inch of his body. He holds his breath in anticipation for the serve, and then it starts. The Ravens are clearly a lot more experienced than the Falcons, but that doesn’t stop the team in green from giving everything they’ve got.

The ball hits the far wall and comes soaring back, thanks to the Ravens goalie. Dream jumps to catch it before it can fly over his head and it lands safely in the soft net of his striker racket. He looks around for opponents and takes 7 steps of his allowed 10, and passes it to George who is open further down the court. George catches the ball, then twists and passes the ball across to Punz. His mark collides with him a moment later and George goes sliding, his arm out with his racket to help him balance. Punz runs down the court, stops, then throws the ball to Liliana. His mark slams his racket down violently on Punz’s in retaliation. The backliner shakes his head in annoyance and continues running.

Dream is already near the goal by the time it gets to him again. He gets the ball and only has two steps to aim and shoot before a Ravens player crashes into him. Dream hits the ground so hard, he rolls. But, the crowd holds their breath as they watch the ball sail past the goalie and into the back of the net. The siren glows red and all Dream can hear is his ears ringing. Sapnap runs up to Dream and helps him up, congratulating him in the process. Dream looks around confused before realising he scored a goal. The entire team rushes towards him, cheering and laughing.

“Good job, Dream! Let’s do that again!” Coach yells. Dream’s surprised he can hear him over the crowd.

The game starts again with Falcons serve. The Falcons’ are fired up and back in the game, even if it is 6-1. And as soon as George throws Dream the ball, he dodges his mark and flies up the court, unguarded and ready to score again. The Ravens’ goalie isn’t prepared for Dream’s throw and misses the ball as it’s thrown at him, making the score 6-2. The crowd gets impossibly louder and Dream looks up into the sea of people to spot you. The smile on your face gives Dream newfound confidence and then everybody is back at their starting positions.

The Ravens are angry, there’s no doubt about that. Sapnap gives the striker a boyish smirk and a snide comment, which Dream can’t hear. He guesses it pisses them off because the second the ball is thrown from the Ravens dealer, the striker goes straight for Sapnap. The younger boy is thrown against the wall of the court and continues to spit insults at the Ravens player, despite his situation.

“Sapnap! Get out of there, bro!” Punz yells, collecting the ball from the ground and throwing it back to Gabby to hit up the court. Sapnap laughs and shakes his head, his lips still moving. Dream sees, out of the corner of his eye, the Ravens player drawing his fist back before punching Sapnap in the nose. The Falcons fans in the crowd start booing at the unnecessary violence and the referees unlock the doors to intervene. Dream meets Sapnap’s eye and raises his eyebrows when he sees Sapnap laughing, blood dripping into his mouth and coating his teeth. The referees pull the Ravens striker off of Sapnap and give him a red card for throwing the first punch. The Ravens fans boo and start swearing at the referees, but their cries are drowned out by the sound of the home crowd.

Due to the incident, the teams are to go back to their positions to start the serve again. Now that the Ravens are down a player, Dream knows the ways to get around them, especially when Sapnap is unguarded.

“Dream!” Sapnap calls when Dream catches the ball. He spins around a little too quickly, loses his balance slightly but throws the ball anyway. As he watches it fly across the court, Dream feels his entire body get crushed against the wall of the court. His head rebounds off the wall from the impact. There’s a heavy weight that pushes him into it more and he can’t breathe. Dream flails his arms, drops his racket, and attempts to push the Ravens player off of him. There’s no doubt that Dream hit his head again. He knows he did. A helmet can only do so much.

Dream can only hear ringing in his ears as he feels the Raven get pulled off—and it isn't the same ringing he heard when he scored the Falcons first goal. He tries to scramble to his feet before he crumples to the ground. Dream blinks a few times, disorientated, but still fails to gain a conscious mind. His eyes start to close when he feels his helmet being tugged off and then someone’s slapping his cheeks. “Stay awake, Dream.”

Dream can barely hear the sound of someone slamming their fists against the plexiglass behind him and then the person in front of him nods. He thinks it’s Sapnap. “Come on, bro, it’s only a few steps and then you can lie down.”

Dream’s head lols to the side, eyes half-open and a lazy grin on his mouth. “Sappy,” he slurs. Sapnap lets out a laugh for the first time since his best friend got knocked out and smiles at him.

“Yeah, dude, it’s me. We’re gonna get you fixed up, okay?” Dream nods before he closes his eyes. “No, no, Coach!” The world fades out around him and Dream falls unconscious.

—

The light is so bright above him. Dream closes his eyes again after he opens them and groans softly. The sound is almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do. And when you do, you lift your head from where you were resting on the edge of his bed. The chair you are sitting in is uncomfortable, so when you stand up, your muscles ache. “Hey, baby, how do you feel?”

If Dream was fully conscious, he would have blushed immensely at the sound of the pet name, but for the moment, he feels like he’s in a dream. His mouth is dry and he struggles to keep his eyes open for longer than 3 seconds. “You don’t have to talk, it’s okay.”

Dream feels pressure on his hand and moves his head slightly to see that your fingers are wrapped around his. You hear him murmur something, and lean down.

“Hi,” He whispers. You furrow your eyebrows at his greeting and look him in the eyes.

“That’s all I get? Hi?” You let out a breathy laugh and use your other hand to brush his hair away from his forehead. But, Dream can’t feel you on his skin. He hesitantly lifts his other hand to touch his forehead and feels a bandage.

“Surprise! Another scar,” You joke. Although, Dream can hear the edge to your words. Your smile disappears from your lips and then you sigh. Your eyes scan over Dream’s face, noting the dull green of his eyes and the pale of his skin. “Oh, Dream. I was so worried about you.”

Dream opens his eyes from when they had fallen closed again and sees the silent tears dripping down your cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m fine,” His voice is scratchy and the sound of the word ‘fine’ does not sound fine. You smile sadly at him, then huff, wiping at your face.

“I almost forgot…” You trail off, rounding the bed to the other side to pick up a bowl and a cotton ball. You sit on the edge of the bed and dip the cotton into the antiseptic. You turn Dream’s head slowly to get a better look at the cut on his cheek. You drag the medicine over the gash and watch as Dream doesn’t flinch.

Once you are done, you place both of the things on the side table of the medical bay in the Falcons home stadium and look at Dream. He gives you a lazy smile and his fingers twitch against yours. “Thank you.”

You nod, eyes wide. “Of course, you know I’ll always be here to clean you up.”

Dream can feel his skin heating up. You get a concerned look on your face when you see the rise in pink on his cheeks. “Oh my god, are you heating up? Do you have a fever?”

He wants to laugh so badly. “Y/n, I’m okay. It’s not a fever. I’m blushing,” Dream says bashfully.

You realise why and then grow embarrassed. “Oh.”

The air isn’t tense, but there’s something there and you want to stick around to find out what it is.

Feedback is always appreciated xx

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now,  slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?” 

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers. 

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?” 

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.” 

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...” 

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt. 

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you. 

“O-oh, Wonwoo...” 

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.” 

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.” 

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...” 

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.” 

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit. 

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...” 

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip. 

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard. 

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!” 

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get. 

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~” 

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you. 

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~” 

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm. 

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.” 

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms. 

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right. 

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’ 

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Elmer's Glue pt.1

Éomer/Reader

God you just can't get his name right, and it's a shame cause's he's cute af

Awkwardness Humor and Fluff

----

Someone like you shouldn't have survived nearly as long as you did.

You first came tumbling into Middle Earth a few days before departing for some big important quest to destroy a powerful ring, having landed yourself in a place called Rivendell that's full of elves and lovely scenery.

You were presented at some meeting and urged to join this 'Fellowship' and became a valuable member of the group even despite your lack of fighting knowledge, because you somehow had some sort of 6th sense regarding things that have yet to happen.

Just barely did you and your friends survive Helms Deep, The Hornburg, after all of those horrible events (losing Gandalf, Merry and Pippin being captured, and Frodo and Sam departing to continue on on their own), but once all is said and done, you're ecstatic to finally have a moment of rest and celebration.

A grand party is thrown in the royal halls of Rohan, but you're none to interested in the drinking or dancing.

Instead, you opt to watch everyone else enjoy themselves.

At some point after Legolas wipes the floor with Gimli in a drinking game, the prince, and brother of the sweet woman Eowyn, ends up meandering over to where you idly sit.

You remember riding with him to and from Isengard during your journey to reclaim your hobbit friends, though the two of you didn't speak much. It was kind of embarrassing for you to sit so close to him and attempt to share a conversation while looking straight ahead, so you didn't speak much at all, and he didn't engage himself often either.

It was surprising to you how comfortable the journey was, though, all things considered.

His horse was huge and he was just as large, but you never felt afraid or feared falling even once during the ride.

It's not a big deal, but it still stuck out to you since he's so clearly a very skilled rider.

Even after all that, however, you still totally blank out on his name when he suddenly approaches after helping Legolas bring Gimili to the resting area.

Your mind begins to race as you try to remember the name that belongs to him, and all too soon do you realize that you're both staring at each other and he's waiting for your to say something (probably after greeting you, which you did not catch).

"L-Lord... Elmer..." You say slowly after a moment, praying to god you got it right since you took inspiration from your favorite brand of kids glue.

He raises an eyebrow when you say his 'name', and a smile creeps on to his face. "Elmer?"

Ah, shit. You definitely didn't get it right.

"Elmo?" You mentally kick yourself for that one, he's definitely not a small red puppet monster, you would've noticed if he were.

He shakes his head this time, amusement painting his features as you struggle to come up with his actual name.

"Emir?"

Another head shake, and also a full on smile.

"It's not Edgar, is it?" It definitely doesn't sound right, but maybe you'll get lucky.

At this point, you know for a fact that your face is on fire, this is so embarrassing, but you simply can't remember.

"Would you like me to tell you?" He offers after you don't guess again for a time, leaning his arm on the table next to you, leaning closer to you.

Getting help at this point would be mortifying, so you deny his offer for the proper answer and take another crack and guessing. "No, no wait. I've got it! Your name is... Elinor..." You mentally smack yourself in the face for that one; he doesn't even look like an Elinor (mostly because he's not a woman).

"Not quite. Eomer is my name may I remind you."

So your first guess was the closest, but still so far away.

"W-Well, this is extremely embarrassing." You stutter out, adverting your gaze from his eyes which have suddenly become so close.

Eomer can't help but to laugh, and the smile that graces his lips is positively dashing.

You glance back up at him and notice right away, and once more your face begins to burn like a furnace.

"I-I didn't mean to forget, I swear! And I definitely wasn't trying to make fun of you either!"

His chuckles die down when your slightly panicked speech betrays your concern of being disrespectful, and he wastes no time in assuring you that it's perfectly fine. "If you are worried that you've upset me, then do not fret. I'm not offended, simply amused."

Well, that's a relief.

"Um... well, that's good- I guess," you tell him your name, then continue, "I feel so bad. You took me on your horse and everything and I didn't even remember your name! Gosh, I suck."

The tall blond-haired man looks at you oddly when you insult yourself so strangely, and you realize that you forgot to keep your other-word slang to a minimum since it can be hard to understand.

"Right, well, I came over to ask if you would like to join me on a walk outside. Are you interested?" He leans down a bit closer when he asks you this, acting as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear.

Typically you'd be more cautious than this, but you find yourself nodding along regardless.

---

Lord Eomer (you'll definitely remember his name this time, you swear it) took your hand in his and led you outside after you nodded your assent, and while you'd normally dislike being grabbed so casually, you allow it for some reason.

He releases you from his gentle hold once the both of you are beyond the party halls and outside in the cool night air at the bottom of the steps, and you finally find your voice to ask about his intent.

"So... did you want to talk to me about something or...?" You look up at him curiously with your hands clasped in front of you, twisting your heel in the dirt to ease the anxiousness.

"No, nothing in particular. I do have questions, but I simply wanted a moment alone with you," he pauses, then adds slyly, "Your friends have taken up al your time since we arrived, so I had hoped to steal you away for a time."

You aren't sure if you should be flattered, flustered, or both.

"I-I see... well, you've got me now." You mean it as a joke but it's hard to sound humorous when you're so flustered.

He only smiles and nods his head once, "I do."

Cue the awkward silence.

It appears that he's once again waiting for you to say something, so you decide to pull no punches and go straight for the heavy hitting topics.

"So, hows about that battle, huh? Crazy..."

His eyebrows knit together as he thinks over your strange speaking mannerisms, but he doesn't question it and only nods his head instead. "You could say that. The men fought bravely and we lost many, but our victory does not go unrewarded."

"Are you talking about the party?"

"Yes. That, and the knowledge that some of my men get to return home tonight and see their families."

His words bring a small, sad smile to your face, and you speak much more softly this time, "I'm afraid it isn't over, though. With everything going on, it's only a matter of time before we're all sent away again."

"We?"

Oh, right, he doesn't really know about your role in this merry group of misfits.

"Um, yes. I fight, er, kind of. I do my own thing really, but I can't afford to stay behind." It's hard to explain since you aren't sure what the extent of his knowledge is.

His uncle, Theoden, knows almost all about your deal, but does Eomer? He should since he's a key part of this whole Rohan operation, but it's not necessarily your place to tell him either.

"A shield-maiden?" He wonders aloud, taking a seat on the stone steps next to you two.

Even when he's sitting down he's taller than you, and it shoots an arrow of envy through you. The bigger you are, the more intimidated your enemies are, after-all.

"Not quite. I'm not the best at fighting really." It's kind of a lie, actually, because you've got some hidden skill that makes you pretty good at that kind of thing, but it has to do with your foresight to you choose not to explain much further.

Your answer seems to only confuse him more, however, for his eyebrows knit together and his smile tugs downwards into a frown. "You are not? But they bring you into battle regardless?"

Well, shit, now you're making them sound like negligent, reckless idiots.

"N-No- I mean, I'm okay but, uh, it's hard to explain." It's like you somehow just know how to affectively fight; it's like something inside of you just takes over and keeps you from dying, and it proved to be both extremely useful and also unexpected.

They found out about this 'hidden ability' (for lack of a better term) during the battle in which Boromir was slain and you first lost your hobbit friends. You were surrounded and everyone else was fighting for their lives, and in that moment of hopelessness, something inside of you snapped and the floodgates were opened.

Your skill lies in defense, not offense, but it was all you needed to make it through the fight alive and intact.

"I-I know it seems like they were being irresponsible, but there's more to the story- I swear!" You try to defend, taking a step closer to his seated form, "Really, they need me, so it'd be even more irresponsible if they didn't bring me along."

He doesn't seem to get it, for his doubtful expression remains and his frown deepens, but he tries not to judge too much either. "I... see."

A subject change seems like the best course of action, so you decide to ask him a question of your own. "W-Well... anyways. Why'd you want me to come out here with you?"

"I simply wished to learn more about the beautiful newcomer that graced our halls, and I find that I'm even more entranced than before."

Lord Eomer's words bring a flush to your face and leave you flustered, and it seems you can't get your brain to form a coherent thought either.

"Have my words troubled you?" He asks when you still don't manage to find your voice.

"N-No, it's not that..." You trail off and cover your mouth and nose coyly, looking off to the side when you find that you can't meet his gaze any longer. "I'm just not sure how to reply to that. I've been here so long I don't even remember how to flirt." Your words are, of course, an embarrassed joke, and it seems to land well for he chortles with amusement.

"If that is all it is, then it must be fine that I say you've caught my eye, and I'm afraid I cannot get it back until I know more."

"Know more about... m-me?" You repeat slowly, simply trying to wrap your head around it all, "Like... Like what?"  

Another dashing smile brightens his handsome features, and this time your heart flutters nervously when he does, "Anything."

You twiddle your thumbs in front of you and dip your head down, racking your brain for any information that would be interesting but not super telling in terms of your 'earth of origin.'

"Um... I can do this-" You raise one of your hands and bend your fingers all the way back until they're perpendicular with your palm, displaying your double jointed fingers effortlessly.

He stares at your hand trick for all of 5 seconds before he's standing up and worriedly asking, "Have you broken your hand?" He takes your hand in his own, delicately turning it around in search of bruises.

"N-No," you pause and look at his larger hands taking yours, then add shyly after, "It's just a trick. I'm double-jointed."

"Double-jointed?" He repeats slowly, not releasing your hand though he does cease his search for damage. "I... see."

He sure does say that a lot.

"I can also do this." You take back one of your hands and reach into your pocket and pull out a lighter that you've had with you all this time, then you ignite a flame and brandish it proudly.

The blond-haired man looks on with wide eyes, and he reaches out towards it, asking with amazement in his voice, "You created fire so effortlessly!'

"Yeah, this little device has, er, oil in it and it ignites it using a spark." It has been helpful many a-night when everyone else has been out and about doing stuff and you were left to tend to the fires. "Don't get too close though, it's hot."

He nods his head once and drops his hands to his dies, watching the small flame dance on the lighter before you blow it out and place it back in your pocket.

"Where did you find such a magnificent contraption?" He asks once it's out of sight, looking down at you with curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"I, um... made it." You think it best to lie, though he doesn't appear to fall for it, and change the subject. "So, how about that weather we're having?"

Your sudden and shitty subject change makes him raise an inquisitive eyebrow, but after a moment he starts to laugh, "Yes, the night sky's are very clear tonight. As it should be the morrow after a raging battle."

It's strange and none too awkward since you're no good at this, but this normalcy actually almost makes you forget all the shit you've seen up until now.

"I would very much like to see you again." He says suddenly when the conversation dies down and you both just stand there in silence.

You look back up at him and offer a small smile, repeating softly, "Sure. I'd like that as well. But I'm still here, so we don't have to talk about later just yet, right?"

"I suppose not." He reaches down and grabs your right hand gently, raising it up while he also leans down, then he presses a feather soft kiss to the middle of the back of your hand.

Eomer looks up at you while he does so, and you find that your face has begun to heat up once more.

When he doesn't move to stand normally and continues to look up at you expectantly, you ask uncertainly, "Am I supposed to kiss your hand too, or...?"

It seems you're quite the comedian to this guy, for he stands up straight again and bursts into joyful laughter, reaching down to pat your shoulders, "No no, but if you wish to offer me one somewhere else then I would not deny it."

People in this place really waste no time beating around the bush, though you suppose they can't afford to waste much time when things like the Battle at Helms Deep happen every so often.

There are murderous orcs everywhere and danger at every turn for them nowadays, do you actually feel a sense of appreciation for his forwardness.

This time you find yourself laughing too, and you readily reply, "Maybe next time, Lord Eomer. We only just met, you know. I could be trying to steal a place in the royal line, for all you know."

His smile does not waver despite your warning against yourself, for he only shakes his head and squeezes your shoulders gently, "No, such motives always make themselves clear early on. Unfortunately for me, you're honest."

"Unfortunately?"

"Unfortunate for my heart, yes."

[feirceangel]

Imagine | A Baby? (David)

Imagine David having to raise you.

Requested by @Davidsmate24 on Wattpad.

~

The night started as normal, the boys hanging around the boardwalk until they grew hungry. So, they tracked down a few unsuspecting people and feasted.

Of course, something unexpected happened.

When David was about to attack a woman, she screamed, "No, Y/n! Don't hurt her!"

David, naturally, paid her outburst no mind and drained her of blood.

Then, he heard a cry.

A baby's cry.

This was not good. The Lost Boys never hurt children: it was just an unspoken rule. David frowned as he investigated the noise.

He discovered a babe wrapped in a soft f/c blanket lying by a bunch of bags on the ground. This must be the 'Y/n' that the lady was screaming about.

Paul, Marko, and Dwayne come beside him and stare down at the child.

"What are we gonna do?" Marko asks, tilting his head.

David cusses, "I have no idea."

~

Long story short, they took you in and began raising you as their own.

It wasn't easy for them to get accustomed to you.

~

David stares at the screaming kid with irritation etched into his features. "What the hell is wrong with it?!"

At his tone, she begins to cry out again, louder this time. He runs a gloved hand through his hair and breathes out heavily.

Dwayne speaks up, "Maybe she's hungry?"

"Marko, food," David demands.

Marko frowns, "What do babies eat?"

"I don't know, think of something!" David growls, sending the younger vampire scampering away.

The child watches the curly blond leave before wailing again.

"Ugh, make it stop!" He seethes, glaring at the nuisance.

"Maybe pick it up?" Paul suggests.

David curls his lip, "No way. You hold it."

"Hey, it's not my responsibility."

"Why is it my responsibility?"

"Because you killed its mom."

Dwayne intervenes, "Can you stop calling her an it? She has a name."

"What was it again?"

Dwayne sighs, "Y/n."

"Oh right."

David, having enough of the crying, finally bends down and scoops the child into his arms.

To everyone's surprise, Y/n stops crying.

Marko walks in, holding up a bag, "I found some baby food!"

"Finally," David sighs, and hands the kid over to Marko and Dwayne. Although he'd never admit it, he actually liked holding the baby in his arms.

~

Eventually, you grew into a cute toddler. Marko and Paul loved playing with you and teaching you knew things, like how to speak and walk and draw, while Dwayne was determined to teach you the alphabet and simple math.

David was like the overseer, and somehow your favourite out of all the boys. He would read to you and show you cool 'magic' tricks and tuck you into bed each morning.

The boys all grew attached to you, and loved you as much as they would have their own flesh and blood.

~

When you discovered that the boys were vampires, you were unaffected, having not understood what vampires were in the first place. They told you when you were younger, so that it wouldn't be such a shock.

They told you that you could turn when you were eighteen, which seemed so far away at the time.

Currently, at seventeen years of age, you've become a bit of a rebel. Therefore, it's been harder for the boys to keep you out of trouble.

You sneak out during the middle of the day to explore Santa Carla without the boys watching your every move. You've even been hanging around the comic book shop much to the annoyance of David.

He's become so protective of you, demanding that you stop seeing Edgar and Alan, claiming that they're 'dangerous'.

You can understand where he's coming from, seeing as the Frog brothers are determined self proclaimed vampire hunters. The fact that you're going to turn into a vampire in a few months would make them hate you.

David hates waking up to find you missing, although you always leave notes to tell him where you are.

Paul and Marko usually feed your rebellious side, being the fun uncles of the group. Dwayne is more of the calm, but still cool, uncle.

David, on the other hand, is your father figure, having taken up the mantle when he 'found' you on the beach.

You even call him 'dad' sometimes.

In the best sense, you and the Lost Boys make a tightly knit family, willing to do anything for each other.

~

You enter the comic book shop with a smile, sunlight pouring in after you. Edgar and Alan look up from the books in their hands to return the smile.

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

Alan crosses his arms and leans against the counter, "Not much. It's been quiet lately."

"No vampires?" You tease, a sly smirk forming on your lips. Deep inside, you're terrified that one day they'll find what they've been looking for.

If they did find out the Lost Boys' secret, there's no doubt that they would try something foolish.

You really don't want that to happen.

Edgar glares at you, "Not yet, but we're ready."

"I know that. You and your crosses and garlic."

Alan adds, "Don't forget the holy water."

You roll your eyes, but cringe on the inside. Holy water is the only thing that can actually harm the boys, apart from sunlight.

Relax, they have no clue.

Sitting on the counter next to Alan, you look at the fading sunlight. You snuck out before sunset to throw off the Frog's suspicion, just in case.

"What are you doing tonight, Y/n?"

You turn to Alan and shrug, "No idea. Probably just hang around here, if that's okay?"

"Got nothing better to do?" Edgar questions.

"Jeez, now that I think of it, I've got dinner with the Queen! How could I forget that?" You laugh, "What do you think, Eddie?"

Alan suggests, "We could always go to that concert, close up shop early.

"Ooh, yes! I wanted to catch that concert! It's gonna be awesome!"

You look to Edgar with wide puppy dog eyes, "C'mon, what'd you say?"

He doesn't say anything, simply sighs and nods. You laugh in victory and leap up, "Let's go, losers!"

~

The concert is amazing!

You've been to a bunch of different concerts before, but never with the Frog brothers. They kinda just stand there and maybe nod along, but it's nice to be with friends.

In the distance, you hear motorcycles revving.

Crap. I hope they don't ruin everything.

You nudge Edgar, "We should head back."

"Why?" He frowns in confusion.

"It's nothing, let's just go."

You push through the crowd on your way to the shop. As you break free from the swarm of people, a different group blocks your way.

An angry David leads them.

"Oh, uh, heya Pops," you mumble, looking downwards. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Where were you?" He asks.

"Out."

"I know that, I want to know where you were."

You gulp. Technically, you're not supposed to be hanging around the Frog brothers.

"I was around. I went to the concert."

Just then, two familiar brothers arrive behind you, "These guys bothering you?"

"No-" you start to say, but a glare from David silences you.

"The Frogs," the head vampire growls with a smile.

This is not good

"Why are you hanging around my daughter?" He takes a drag from his cigarette.

Edgar and Alan freeze. They hadn't known about you're fatherly attachment to David.

"Daughter?" Edgar asks disbelievingly.

He nods.

They look to you and you nod, "Yeah, this is my adopted dad, David. David, you know Edgar and Alan."

"You're one of them!" Edgar accuses. He's been suspecting the Lost Boys of being murderous vampires for some time.

"No!" At your outburst, David frowns dangerously. "I mean, kind of. I don't know," you try to explain.

Alan scoffs and starts to walk away, "Don't bother coming back to the shop. You're not welcome."

Your heart breaks as they leave.

Tears fall from your face as Marko wraps you in a warm embrace, "It's okay, kid."

"It's not okay!" You yell, wrenching away from them.

You run to the beach, away from it all. The silence is a welcomed experience. You turn when you sense a presence.

"David, why did you do that?!"

"You have to realize that they don't care about you! You know what they'd do if they knew for a fact that you were raised by vampires?! They'd kill you, Y/n. This is for the best."

You hate to admit it, but he's right. You hate it when he's right.

He hands you a cigarette and lights it for you, "I'm sorry, hun. I know you wanted to be their friend."

"They're the only ones who wanted anything to do with me."

"Not true," David chastises, "Marko, Paul, and Dwayne love hanging with you."

"It's not the same."

He sighs heavily, "You're right. We're your family: we're never gonna run away like that, no matter what."

You hiccup, trying to stop the tears. He draws you close and hugs you, "Love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, dad."

[topsytervy]

Not The Right Time ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ has a thing for you. Unfortunatley, it just isn't the right time.

Word count: 1,929 (give or take. did some last minute editing)

Warnings: mention of cheating, drinking, drug use (weed), swearing, not proofread so probably spelling mistakes, I think that's it.

Quick rundown because I have more of these than usual cause this one is slightly more descriptive of the reader (aka you): s/c = skin color, e/c = eye color, h/l = hair length, h/c = hair color, h/t = hair type (curly, straight, etc...)

Me somehow breaking out of my Rafe phase for a minute to write something JJ related? Yes, I am just as surprised as you are.

~~~~~~

JJ lounged in the hammock in the backyard, drinking his third beer of the night with a book next to him. This was a routine for him at this point. While you were out with your boyfriend, he went into the backyard to drink away his sorrows and stayed up until you got home to make sure you actually got home.

The nights when you texted him that you wouldn't be coming home, opting to stay at your boyfriends instead, were the worst for him.

If you asked JJ, your boyfriend was an asshole. He never liked him and probably never would. However, you were his best friend and roommate since you both graduated from high school so whatever made you happy was fine by him.

It just sucked that he wasn't the one who made you happy the way your boyfriend did.

JJ often found himself mesmerized by your beauty. Your beautiful (s/c) skin and (e/c) eyes often entranced him which usually caused you to nudge him.

"You good?" You'd ask.

"Absolutely peachy." He'd grin.

After all, How could he not be peachy with you around?

He noticed the way you'd play with your (h/l) (h/c) (h/t) hair mindlessly when you'd be focused on a movie or the way you picked at the skin around your nails when you got nervous.

JJ sighed as he crushed his now empty beer can and reached for another that sat in the cooler next to the hammock.

"Woe is me," he whispered, popping the tab of the new can.

He brought the can to his lips but pulled it away when he heard the front door open and close which caused a confused expression to cross his face.

He didn't hear a car pull up and drop you off like usual since your boyfriend often picked you up.

"Y/N!" He called, hoping that you'd hear him and that it was actually you and not an intruder.

He grew quiet as he heard faint footsteps from inside and the sliding glass door slide open.

"Yeah, it's me." You answered.

Your voice was barely above a whisper which caused JJ to turn his head to face you.

"Come join me for a drink." He waved you over, not being able to make out your face in the darkness.

You shuffled closer to JJ and the faint glow from the solar lights you guys had casted upon your face. JJs face dropped at the sight of yours.

"Oh my god. Y/N," JJ immediately dropped his can on the ground.

The contents spilled onto the grass as he took in your appearance.

You eyes were red from crying, black smudges of mascara on your face and your nose was slightly red, more than likely from the irritation of you constantly wiping it on your sleeve.

"What happened sweetheart?" He asked as he pulled you into the hammock.

"He's been cheating on me." You whispered, your voice hoarse as you laid on him.

He took in a sharp breath and his arms tightened around you. "How do you know?"

"He left his phone at the table when he went to the bathroom and I answered it. Before I could say anything a woman's voice came through and said hey baby. When I suggested she had the wrong number since this was my boyfriends phone, she said no this is Brett's number and that's when I knew."

JJ rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

"I am so sorry Y/N." He whispered.

You shrugged, feeling numb.

It was quiet for a few minutes before you noticed the book next to him. "Whatcha reading?"

JJ took an arm from around you and grabbed his book.

"A book of Edgar Allan Poe's works." He answered.

"Can you read to me?" 

JJ nodded as he opened the book. "Want me to start from the beginning?" 

"You can if you want." 

JJ flipped to the first page. "The Cask of Amontillado." He began as you made yourself comfortable.

After half an hour, JJ stopped and looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your mouth was slightly open. JJ smiled as he made himself comfortable in the hammock. You looked so peaceful and he wasn't about to risk waking you up just to try to get you in your bed. 

He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over.

******

The next morning, you woke up with a small headache and placed your head in your hands.

"Hey, I made you scrambled eggs with cheese and those ham cubes you like along with some bacon." 

Your head turned towards the voice and you saw JJ walking over with two plates of food, setting them on the patio table that was placed a few feet away from the hammock. 

JJ walked back inside as you stood up and walked over to your breakfast. You stretched as JJ came back with a bottle of apple juice for you and a beer for himself, pulling out his chair before sitting down.

"I was thinking since neither of us work today, we could steal the HMS Pogue from John B and go out on the marsh. Just the two of us. smoke some weed, drink some beer. You know, the usual." The blonde suggested, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth as he did. "Hell, maybe even just stay out there the entire night. We'll pack plenty of food.“ 

You stayed quiet and forked some eggs into your mouth before reaching for your apple juice, attempting to open it. After a few unsuccessful attempts, JJ held out his hand and you gave the bottle to him. He opened it with ease and gave you the bottle back. You took a drink before returning to your food.

Technically, he wouldn't be taking the pogue without John B's permission. He had talked to John B about taking it after a call this morning, telling him what had happened. John B had said the boat was all his for the day and all JJ had to do was to let him know when JJ was planning on confronting Brett so he could get a few punches in.

"So…me, you, and the Pogue out on the marsh?" JJ asked again.

You sighed. " I don't know, J. "

"Okay, I know that last night was rough and I'm 100% sure Brett will get what's coming to him, but today is about making you feel better and I know theres nothing you like more than chilling in the middle of the marsh with a joint in one hand and a beer in the other, maybe some swimming beforehand." He saw you thinking about it and knew you were leaning towards yes so he drove it home. "Plus you like sleeping under the stars and you're always napping on the boat. Why not combine them?" 

You bit your lip, the idea tantalizing.

You nodded. "Okay but don't be all mad cause I'm all mopey." 

"I won't. I'll be fishing while getting high with my best friend." 

" I thought JB was your best friend?" You smirked.

JJ placed a finger to his lips and sent you a wink. "Shh. Our little secret." 

****

You sat on the blanket-covered floor of the HMS Pogue, a joint being passed between you and JJ as you sipped on a beer and ate the abundance of food JJ had brought with.

It was hours later, darkness had fallen and the stars had come out.  JJ had stopped at The Wreck to order a shit ton of food before you took the Pogue out and paid for it all despite you offering to pitch in for half.

"Oh no no no. Rule #1 of friends supporting a friend whos been broken up with: the one who has gone through the break-up doesnt pay for anything the day after."

"Oh yeah? Who made that dumbass rule Maybank?" You crossed your arms, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, I will have you know JJ Maybanks Rules To Help A Friend Through Heartbreak is a number one best seller." JJ shot qt you.

"Oh yeah. I bet that that fake ass book is raking in all the fake ass dough and your signing plenty of fake ass boobs at your fake ass book signing." You nodded.

"Actually, the fake ass bookstore that is holding my fake ass book signing doesn't allow boob autographs. Something about it being inappropriate apparently." He grinned.

You took a bite of your sandwich as you passed the joint to JJ. 

"You know what JJ?"

He hummed in response as he took a hit off the joint.

"This was really nice and I had a really great time today." You grinned.

JJ smiled, happy that the smile was back on your face. " I'm really glad Y/N/N. You know you deserve this, right?" 

You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer before taking the joint back from the blonde.

"I'm serious, Y/N. You deserve this and way more. You deserve someone who can give you everything you need and want." JJ scooted closer to you.

"If I deserve everything like you say I do, J, then why wasn't I good enough for Brett." you whispered.

JJ took the joint from your hand and placed it in the ashtray he had set on the floor before moving next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling your body into his side.

"It's not that you weren't good enough for Brett, Brett wasn't good enough for you. He's a damn fool for letting you go. I've heard Kooks like Topper talking about how bad they want to date you. If a Kook wants to date you, a pogue who hangs out with me who every Kook hates, that means you're a pretty remarkable person." JJ told you.

You felt yourself smile at his words. "You always know what to say, J. Sometimes, I wonder why you haven't used that intelligent brain of yours to woo yourself a girIfriend."

 JJ scoffed at your words.

"I'm serious JJ. You are so much smarter than you think you are. Both streetwise and bookwise. You read me Edgar Allan Poe last night as if it was your first language and didn't even stop to ask me what any words meant like you usually do around the others. You shouldn't hide your smarts, J. Smart you is way sexier than dumb you." JJ felt himself blush and you ruffled his hair as you turned your body to face his. "I wish you let everyone else see the JJ Maybank I see."

JJ sighed. "I don't woo any girls with my words cause it's either not the right time or not the right girl." 

"Come on JJ. You're 20 years old and you mean to tell you haven't met one girl you didn't want to be in a long term relationship with?" You asked through a mouthful of sandwich, hand covering your mouth.

"I never said that." 

your eyes widened as you swallowed your food and took a swig from your beer. "You like someone right now!" JJ rolled his eyes. " Oh my God. Maybank, spill! What's stopping you from going after her?"

JJ took the blunt from the ashtray and took a long slow drag before turning his blue eyes onto your e/c ones. "Like I said, not the right time. I have to wait until I think she's ready for a relationship."

~~~~~~ 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.11 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Stretch finally has Edge's address, but as always seems to happen in this town, answering one question only makes two more spring up to take its place.

Read ‘Unconventional Wisdom’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The dog spent all morning napping behind the counter, not rising for broom bristles nudging him nor Stretch stepping over him awkwardly so he could grab a few boxes from the top shelf to fill up the front racks. He did snore loud enough to be heard over the radio, but eh, so did Red so Stretch was used to it.

It wasn’t until the jangling cowbell over the door heralded the arrival of a group of kids that the pup gave up on his snoring and wandering out to inspect the new arrivals, tail already happily wagging. Predictably, the kiddos were enamored of their newest employee, although guard dog might be overstating things a bit. Okay, maybe a lot; it looked like Red hadn’t been able to get back to sleep last night because the once-filthy dog with a mess of tangled fur was now freshly washed and brushed, and he smelled a lot like the shower gel from Red’s bathroom. Cleaned up, he was a handsome dog, looking as fluffy as an enormous toasted marshmallow. Not exactly threatening, fluffykins here was probably gonna spend most of his shift on moral support duty.

The little girl who was currently the main recipient of the dog’s enthusiastic face licking giggled and asked, “What’s his name?”

“uh.” That gave Stretch a pause. He shrugged. “doesn’t have a name yet, i’ll have to ask red what he thinks.”

“Should name him Rover,” one boy put in helpfully.

Another boy chimed in, “Or Bingo!”

“Cheeseburger!” A little gal firmly declared as though no other name would do and Stretch couldn’t help laughing.

“is that a name suggestion or a lunch request?” he teased. All the kids giggled, including the one who’d suggested the name and Stretch gave one of her pigtails a gentle tug. “tell you what, here.” He pulled out a pad of paper from under the counter, flipped past the pages filled with inventory lists and cribbage scores to a blank one and wrote carefully at the top, ‘Name Our Dog’. He set it in one corner of the counter triumphantly, “there! now anyone can suggest a name and red can choose the best one.”

All the kids seemed in agreement that this was the best course of action, each taking a turn to scribble their suggestion on the sheet. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if ‘Cheeseburger’ was at the top of Red’s picks.

The kids eventually abandoned the dog and started a round of intense negotiations over what penny treats to buy today. Stretch left them to it, settling to sit on the stool to wait for them to bring up their selections to the register. His mind wandered idly back to newest side quest: getting to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

He’d already tried to look the address up on his phone’s GPS and wasn’t too surprised to see that it didn’t come up, naw, that would be too easy. So, first was figuring out how to get there and second would be figuring out how to get there. Not like he had a car and somehow, he doubted that Backwater had a thriving Uber economy. Maybe he could hitch a lift with someone? People were always coming into town in those big ol’ pickup trucks and the folks around here were pretty friendly, plus Edge seemed to be pretty well known. They all probably knew exactly where Edge lived and stopped by for pie and tea all the time. Surely someone would be delighted to help out, particularly if they were one of the lookie-loos from Mama’s who wanted to see Stretch and Edge on another man date, thank-you-but-no-thank-you.

That would probably be the easiest way to go about it, but Stretch found he was strangely reluctant to take that route. It felt a little like cheating, considering the roundabout way Edge went about handed out his address.

Anyway, if he’d wanted to go down that path, he could’ve simply asked Red days ago, but that right there was an entirely different can of worms that he didn’t want to share with any of the early birds. Red never forbade him from hanging out with Edge, but he’d been pretty clear time and again that he wasn’t too keen on it, either. Might be best if he kept any mentions of Edge to a minimum unless Red brought him up first.

He’d just figure it out himself, thanks, and he wasn’t any puzzle master, not like his bro was, but he had a little pride buried around here somewhere. Edge set him a challenge, damn it, and he was gonna see it through.

His absent gaze strayed down to the pile of bicycles outside the store, kid-sized, sure, but hey, wait a second—

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, and the debate on whether to get two packs of everlasting gobstoppers or three paused as a half-dozen heads perked up like prairie dogs from a sugary plain. “if i wanted to buy a bicycle around here, where would i go?”

Heads ducked down again in a hastily whispered conversation, then the spokeskid popped up again and said, decisively, “Try over at the thrift shop. Miss Maggie always has old bikes for sale.”

“thanks.” He should’ve known. The only other option right in town was the tractor supply shop and while driving up on a John Deere would make a hell of an impression, it was probably well out of his price range. The kids crowded over with their handfuls of spoils and Stretch dutifully rang them up and if he tossed in a dime of his own to cover them, eh, wasn’t like they’d ever know. He handed over a paper sack of treats to a chorus of thank yous and the divvying began before the kiddos even got out of the shop.

“Oh, Edgar Allen said to tell you hi!” One little girl called back to him. She was gone out of the door before he could even think of a reply, all of them clamoring onto their bikes, their faces chipmunk-cheeked with their spoils.

Edgar Allen, shit, yeah, that was right. He’d pretty much been the first stop on this questline and Stretch’d been meaning to do something for him. He’d already rethought the magazine idea; what if it turned out that scarecrows couldn’t read, kinda insensitive there. He’d have to think of something, though, owing someone didn’t sit well with him even if that person didn’t qualify for traditionally alive.

In the meantime, the dog, bereft of childish companionship, wandered back behind the counter and flopped down with a huff, sighing deeply.

“yeah, go on and take a break,” Stretch told him, “you were working pretty hard there.” He stretched out a leg to pet the dog carefully with his foot and wasn’t too surprised that it didn’t care one bit about his shoe, only pliantly rolled over to give him better access to the belly region.

Stretch obediently kept petting, hell, he obeyed better than the dog. But his thoughts were still on the upcoming journey to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

~~*~~

Red relieved him in the shop a little later than normal, looking a lot like he’d just hauled ass out of bed. His shirt was the same one as earlier, only with a fresh crop of wrinkles and his eye lights were still bleary with exhaustion.

Almost, Stretch offered to stay later and let Red get a little more sleep, considering it was his fault Red got woken up in the middle of night. But the baleful glare Red sent his way was an unspoken warning that such an offer probably wasn’t gonna go over well. He kept his jaw shut tight and took the paper sandwich bag Red handed over before heading out the door. Time to get this side quest rolling, literally, he hoped.

The few times he’d met Magdalen May he’d figured right from the get-go that she, like Red, was a partaker of the Sheriff’s son’s prize cannabis crop. Not only because of her dreamy demeanor but also whenever she came into the store, she was surrounded by an almost visible cloud of pot stank so strong that Stretch got a contact buzz while she was shopping through the meagre selection of yarn that Red kept. By the time she left, Stretch would have a craving for Cheetos so strong he’d be ready to start gnawing on his fingerbones for a cronch.

Stepping into the thrift shop was a little like hot boxing in a hoarder’s closet but Stretch soldiered on, squinting as his vision adjusted from the bright light of day to a dimness barely above attic-levels. He went past shelves of gewgaws and boxes of dusty records, old clothes hanging from racks that looked like they’d been commandeered from a lot of remaindered furniture. There were tables piled high with ancient radios, cameras, electronics that Stretch didn’t know the name of and surely didn’t work, existing only to be parted out by an amateur scientist or an electrician in search of cheap parts. Antique glass was set high on the shelves, catching dusty light and sending a kaleidoscope of color to scatter over the room, freckling it in greens, reds, and yellows.

The entire store radiated a glorious sort of chaos and if it weren’t for the fact that he already felt a little woozy, he would’ve stayed for a while and poked through some of the wares. Maybe even find a new book for Red buried in the nearby piles, see if he’d be willing branch out into cowboy romance for a change.

He heading to the back of the shop where Miss Maggie was sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by boxes and shelves, knitting with flashing speed despite the foggy miasma hanging in the air. Her long white hair was smoothly braided and pinned up on top of her head, her weathered skin tanned dark and leathery. The weave of bright yellow yarn trailing from her needles was spread across her lap in an incongruous contrast to her dark, billowing skirt and the light sweater she wore against the chill of the air conditioning.

“Hello, Papyrus,” she greeted him with the sort of rough, croaky voice made over the years by a thousand packs of Marlboros. She didn’t look up, her attention completely focused on her knit and purl.

That gave him one hell of a pause. “how did you—” Stretch stopped. Great, he was in the soothsayer chapter and hadn’t even had time to prep. Yeah, okay, he didn’t really have any room in his life for another side quest, maybe let this one go. He didn’t actually want to know where she got her intel, not really, especially not with his head already spinning a little. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the way they wanted to curl into fists, rocking back and forth on his heels. “heya. i haven’t gone by papyrus in years, it’s stretch, thanks.”

“A wise choice,” Miss Maggie said. She sounded…different, somehow. He’d talked to her a few times now and strangely, today he couldn’t seem to place her accent. It wasn’t like the other townsfolk, all of them had a certain warm, down-homey charm, and usually so did she. Her words today were crisp, sharp-edged, nothing like the dreamy peace he was familiar with when she came into the store for coffee creamer and vanilla wafers. She glanced up at him over the wire rims of her glasses, her gaze as sharp as her tongue. “Names have power. A wise man keeps his true name to himself.”

“um. sure,” Stretch couldn’t stop himself from giving the door a longing glance. This was starting to seem like a bad idea, Miss Maggie seemed to be having a personality crisis, maybe he should come back after lunch. “that’s some very handy wisdom, but i’m here about a bike?”

She ignored that. “You have issues with names,” Miss Maggie told him. She kept knitting, needles flashing furiously in a rhythmic clickity-clack as steady as a metronome. “don’t you.”

“huh?” Stretch didn’t exactly have any flesh to get goosebumps with, but he felt a chill nonetheless, prickling maddeningly over his bones. His head was whirling, everything around him seemed to blur except the old woman in front of him. His tongue felt strangely thick as he whispered a question he didn’t want to ask, “i don’t…what do you mean?”

“Mmm, yes,” Miss Maggie sighed out, “so many names you’ve had and rejected. Had and left behind when you ran away, far, far away.”

“stop,” Stretch said weakly. His soul was starting to pulse with aching intensity behind his breastbone. The room filled with an electric heaviness like a coming storm, the rich green smell filling the room suddenly nauseating. “please, don’t.”

“Brother, lover, yes, but never father, not even once.”

“shut up,” Stretch said thickly. Or tried to, the words seemed to clot and stick at the back of his throat, refusing to travel over his useless tongue.

“And now you’re taking on new names,” she raised her head, and here in the dim, her eyes seemed like dark pools of pure blackness that reflected nothing of the flickering overhead lights. Her grin seemed unpleasant and wide, showing pale pink gums in an endless maw. “Is it friend you seek or something else, I wonder?”

As she turned towards him, her sleeve caught on the sugar bowl set on the table next to her, sending it tumbling to the floor. The burst of sound as it shattered pushed through his dazed distance like the snap of dry twig broken over a knee. Stretch jerked, blinking hard, and all the nebulous emotion in him surged forward, gathering and coalescing into real anger. He was starting to get sick of this shit, if everyone in town wanted to act like this place was Sleepy Hollow’s second-cousin, that was fine by him. He was happy to play along, but not if they were gonna keep sticking their shovels into his past to see what other skeletons they could dig up.

“look, fuck you,” Stretch snapped out. He turned back to the door, tossing over his shoulder. “never mind, i’ll figure out something else!”

“Wait!” And he didn’t want to wait, he wanted to push on through the door, but his stubborn feet suddenly refused to move. Miss Maggie clumsily thrust aside her knitting, hardly noticing her teacup wobbling, spilling tea and leaves out into her saucer in a wild splash. That funky weird woman vibe abruptly eased and so did some of the stench in the air, flavored instead with lavender tea. She waddled over to him, her long skirt dragging on the floor. Even bent over with age, she was impressively tall, hardly shorter than Stretch was, and he was a mini-skyscraper to most Humans. She looked up at him, her eyes a watery, pale blue, surrounded by a sea of wrinkles, how could he ever have imagined they were anything else?

Miss Maggie reached up to touch his cheekbone with fingers nearly as thin as his own.

“Oh, sweet child,” she said with mournful gentleness, and her voice was the smoky-sweet, grandmotherly one he recalled. “S’all right. Ain’t nothing wrong with setting aside a name you’ve outgrown, nor in taking on a new one.”

All his bright, burning anger collapsed inwardly, a card house with the center support removed, and hurt welled in him instead. He was crying, he realized distantly, tears stinging in his sockets, running down his cheekbones to gather on wetly his chin. He didn’t realize he was going to speak until he did, choking out, “it feels wrong.”

“How you feel and how things are don’t always match,” she agreed. She held out her arms, her gnarled hands open to him and Stretch leaned into them, burying his face in the soft, knitted shawl draped over her shoulder. She smelled like weed and lavender, a strange, exotic mixture. “i’ll get you all wet,” Stretch mumbled, muffled into the cloth.

She petted his skull gently, “It’s all right, child. I’ll dry.”

He held on tightly for a long time and when she finally drew back, she lightly touched his forehead with the tips of two dry fingers.

“You can get to his home through the forest,” she said, and it seemed to Stretch he could almost see it, clear as a picture someplace behind his sight. “Follow the exchange down about a mile, you’ll see a turnoff on the left. Don’t you stray from the path, you hear me, sonny?” Those pale, rheumy eyes searched his face for understanding. “Easy to get lost out there.”

“i won’t.”

“Good.” She let him go and shuffled back to her chair to picked up her knitting again. “Now, you mentioned something about a bike.”

For a moment, Stretch stood there, practically wobbling on his feet. He felt like he’d woken up from an unexpected nap, still floating in between the sleeping and waking worlds. Then he blinked, snapping awake, and looked around almost wildly. Until his gaze snagging on one of the shelves, or more specifically, something sitting on it, and held.

“a bike, i did.” Stretch walked over to the shelf where a bandana was sitting, a bright turkey-red plaid, and picked it up, holding it out for Miss Maggie to see. “how much for this, too?”

By the time he left the shop, he was in a fine mood despite his savings being a little lighter. He was pushing a rattly old bike with a squeaky chain and a horn that let loose with a hoarse ‘awhooga’ when the dusty rubber bulb was squeezed. The bandana was stuffed into his short’s pocket and the first thing he was gonna do was deal with that, then he’d worry about some maintenance. Probably better to find out if his new bike was streetworthy before taking his act on the road.

He used the walk back to the store to draw in a few deep, refreshing breaths of the heat-smoggy air, letting it clear his head.

“miss maggie sure smokes some strong shit,” Stretch muttered to himself. He left the bike leaning against the porch around back and headed over to the main road, taking his normal walking route down towards the corn. There were no kids on the makeshift baseball diamond today, looked like they’d headed off somewhere else to enjoy their penny candy.

The grass was yellowed and dying under his sneakers as he went off the beaten path, heading towards the rustling corn. Was it his imagination, or did those whispers get louder as he approached, even eager? The corn got lonely sometimes, Edgar Allen had said, but it didn’t mean any harm.

Somehow, he didn’t think the skeleton they’d found in the fields back in Doris’s day would agree.

“um, hi?” Stretch tried. There was no one around to see him and he still felt ridiculous, talking to the damn corn. “look, i dunno if you can understand me, but if you do, could you see that edgar allen gets this? i wanted to thank him for helping me out and i thought it’d look good on him.”

Carefully, he laid the bandana over a crux of green leaves and stalk, tugging to make sure it wouldn’t simply blow away. He left it there and turned back to town, hoping that the scarecrow got the message; as much as he wanted to thank the guy, he really didn’t feel like taking a second go in the corn maze to do it. He didn’t look back until he got back to the side of the road and there he paused, frowning. The splash of red should’ve been vivid against the sea of green but there was nothing, not so much as a glimpse.

He craned his neck, searching, but it hadn’t fallen to the ground and the wind wasn’t strong enough to carry it off. Maybe the corn had gotten the message after all? Yeah, he was going with that, and he headed back to take a look at his new bike, hands in his pockets and whistling cheerfully, which was a heck of a trick for someone without lips.

Yeah, he felt pretty good today and why not? He had a place to stay, a job, someone looking after him, and a dog. And now he had a bike. Things were looking up, Stretch decided.

Things were looking up.

~~*~~

tbc

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part ten

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

  Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

Die Hard and stolen glances

After making sure Sarah ate a hearty lunch, Martha took her leave, worry still lingering in her eyes. She’d made her friend promise to call Mallory as soon as possible. Sarah decided she’d contact her tomorrow at their usual time. And while she always looked forward to talking with the woman who’d raised her through her teen years, she felt dread creep up at the thought of having to either lie or tell her the truth and deal with the consequences. Telling Mallory her abilities had resurfaced would be equivalent to purchasing a ticket back home. And that was the one thing she could not do. Not until this situation with Vought was resolved.

Putting those thoughts to rest, her mind moved onto the other pressing concern: her upcoming movie night with Black Noir. It felt silly to think—even more when said out lout, but they bonded over their love for action movies. She shrugged her coat on and wrapped a scarf loosely around her neck before heading out of the house. The neighborhood she lived in wasn’t extremely well kept and trash often littered the sidewalks, clustering in the corners. She’d been skeptical when the previous owner had given her a tour. However, she soon realized she didn’t mind, and the affordable price and relatively quiet environment ultimately won her over. Being right outside of the city, the housing complexes were low rise, about two floors high, some three. She had a view on the city and could easily access the university on her bike. Sure, it took about fifteen minutes, but the peace and absence of the city’s obnoxious traffic in that small, rundown neighborhood made it worth it.

She soon reached her destination: the nearest small shop, “Dave’s Grocers.” Immediately, she headed for the party necessities section, searching for straws amid the colorful shelves. She soon grew impatient, scanning the items multiple times.

“Hello, welcome to Dave’s Grocers,” a young employee greeted her. “Is there anything I can I help you with?”

“Hi, yeah actually I’m looking for straws,” she glanced back at the shelves, “but I can’t seem to find any.”

The young man—whose name tag read Bernard in a squiggly handwriting—looked through the shelves himself before confirming her suspicions.

“I can check in the back if we had anything come in,” he offered.

“Yeah that would be great, thank you.”

With that she followed him and waited at the front counter as he disappeared into the back. He soon returned with a box in his arms.

“I found a box of them,” he smiled genuinely. He set the box down and opened it up.

The first thing that registered in Sarah’s mind was, “They’re pink.” She looked to him for confirmation.

“Magenta to be precise.”

She pushed some of her hair behind her ears. Black Noir had refused a drink last time because he wouldn’t take his mask off. She figured that by offering him a strawed drink, he’d accept it. She was sure she’d seen him drinking from a straw before, either in passing at Vought or on television. She wanted it to be a thoughtful act, and here she was thinking of offering him a pink straw.

Sure, it was just a color, right? Their generation was past binary color preferences—pink for girls, blue for boys. They were over it, right? A lot of men see no issue in wearing pink or purple these days. But Black Noir was no ordinary man. 

What was initial horror, soon morphed into amusement. She became curious of  his reaction. 

“How much” she questioned, eyes glued to the intensely colored straws.

“Uh,” he checked the side of the cardboard to be sure, “a dollar and fifty cents for a pack of twenty.”

She nodded, making up her mind, “I’ll take one.”

After paying he asked her to hold up, scratching the back of his neck.

“Could I get your number?”

She eyed him in suspicion, the man from the previous night flashing in front of her eyes. But then she quickly softened. He’d been helpful and seemed like a sweet guy.

“Look, I’m sorry but I’m seeing someone,” she slightly twisted the truth.

“Ahh, should’ve known,” he looked down with a disappointed smile. “He a good guy,” he asked.

Sarah wanted to choke right there. He’s Edgar’s damn hitman and has probably killed more people than she could count.

She simplified her answer with, “Yeah, he’s great,” she held up the straws, “these are actually for him.”

Bernard laughed lightly, “Bold. That’s why you looked worried when you first saw them, huh?”

She chuckled, “Yeah, he’s in for a surprise.”

After waving goodbye, she took her leave and headed back home.

.

When eight o’clock rolled around, Sarah was ready. She’d fixed her hair, her dark brown coils forming a soft cloud over her shoulders. A light coat of mascara was what she settled for, deciding to forego any other makeup. This was a casual meeting between two people who were barely acquaintances, she reminded herself. She changed into comfy clothes, slipping on her best pair of black sweatpants with a matching sweatshirt. Soft socks were a must.

Finally, she made sure her necklace poked out of her top. It had been her mother’s, who’d passed it down to her when she’d first been hospitalized. It was meant as a reminder that her parents were always with her and that they’d fight her disease together. It was a symbol of hope. Now, it was a small piece of her parents she kept on her always. Sometimes, it gave her a sense of peace as she recalled memories of family dinners or the playground. Other times, it fueled the guilt and deep-seated hate she felt towards the institution that made her into the monster she is. She fiddled with the black pearl, crowned by a gold fringe.

Heading back into the living room, she planned to wait for him on the couch. And there he was, standing in the middle of her living room.

This time she didn’t jump or freeze, already growing accustomed to his sudden appearances. She was grounded, she refused to be afraid. She thought it was foolish to not fear such a dangerous threat. So, she acknowledged it, but left it in a corner of her mind where she could see it but deny it control of her actions or reactions.

“Hey,” she greeted nodding at him, “how are you,” she asked.

He nodded at her and she quickly handed over their black notebook for him to reply.

Fine. You

She smiled, “I’m doing okay.”

He watched her movements, fluid and more controlled than last time. What he’d witnessed the night before had given him a new perspective, and he desperately wanted to question her about what happened. But at that point, he’d be admitting himself as a stalker. He stayed silent.

She nodded towards the couch, “You can sit, the movie’s already in,” she said turning her television on. “I made some popcorn, I’m not sure if you wanted to eat anything.”

He sat and simply watched her. Sarah ducked into the kitchen before she ended up losing her confidence. She emerged with a big bowl of popcorn, inhaling the smell, and humming a tune. She set the bowl on the coffee table, glancing at the massive man before heading back into the kitchen to get their drinks.

“So please bear with me,” she said moving towards him with the two drinks behind her back. “I know you aren’t comfortable with pulling your mask, so I went and got something to help with that…” she trailed off.

He tilted his head slightly, and she imagined an inquisitive expression had formed on his face.

She moved the drinks to the front, careful to not spill any.

“I know the straws are bold…” she stated the obvious. “Would you like some?”

He assessed the situation—the straws, the soft blush on her cheeks, her frame engulfed by her sweatshirt. And he found himself nodding, if only to put her at ease. He was unexpectedly moved by her thoughtfulness, a tightness forming in his chest.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding, “Great, here you go,” she said brightly.

She grabbed a throw blanket to wrap herself in and moved towards the other couch chair in the room. He frowned. She was cold? She looked so much smaller in her home clothes, and he felt an itch to gather her in his arms. He ran at a higher temperature anyway, he’d probably feel like a thermostat to her.

“Do you want a blanket?”

He blinked at her, and she too found it amusing that this massive dark man might want one of her small light blue covers.

He shook his head. I’m fine and followed it with a thumbs up.

She nodded and snuggled into the chair, diagonally to his right.

She grabbed the remote and pointed it to the screen, pressing play.

And so, they watched the movie, constantly exchanging hurried, shy glances. Once, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and she saw him discreetly lift his mask, pick some popcorn and drop them in his mouth. He immediately covered his face again and chewed without making a sound. She was disappointed that in the dark she missed it. At one point, Sarah was surprised to see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She too laughed, and often commented her favorite scenes. She hoped he didn’t mind. She just couldn’t seem to help herself. And he secretly loved it. He enjoyed her voice, especially when she was talking to him.

He watched her snuggle deep under the blanket, her sweatshirt sleeves pulled over her hands. He watched her laugh and comment the scenes they both knew by heart. In the dark room, he watched her more than the movie itself. The colored light projecting from the screen flitted across her cheeks, her attention captured by John McClane as he took down Gruber’s team in the Nakatomi Tower.

Black Noir was rather disappointed when the credits rolled and she rose to switch the lights back on. He perked up when she spoke, “Always a classic, huh?”

He nodded with enthusiasm.

She recited with a deeper voice, “Nine million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister.”

Sarah was pleasantly surprised when he clapped his hands and wrote Bravo.

She curtsied, “Why thank you.”

She must be losing her mind, joking around with one of the most dangerous men in the world. And yet, right then she couldn’t bring herself to fear him. Black Noir was still holding his drink, hot pink straw sticking out like a sore thumb.

She took the last sip of her own drink, and embarrassedly stopped when she began to slurp loudly.

“Oh god, sorry. My friend absolutely hates it when I do that.”

He looked over as she brought her legs up into a cross-legged position. And then he did something that surprised them both.

He gave her a thumbs up and loudly sucked on his straw, emitting the same sounds she’d just made. Sarah stared wide-eyed and began to laugh.

He wrote. Sorry :)

“We’re both scandalous—just scandalous,” she smiled.

She gathered their empty cups, but he stopped her before she could get up. She looked so comfortable and he swiftly stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating she should stay seated. Sarah looked up at him shocked and suddenly reminded of his murderous tendencies. He gently took the cups from her hands and immediately went to wash them in her kitchen sink. He felt rather than saw her enter the small kitchen leaning her back against the counter beside him, watching him work. He stilled and she quickly realized why, his big, dark gloves left on the counter.

She felt like they had entered a bubble, a very unstable bubble that could burst at any second.

She whispered softly, “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide here.”

He stared down in the now empty sink. He finally brought his hands up and over the edge, slowly reaching for the gloves. His skin was a toffee brown, his long fingers rough and calloused. She felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch him, assure herself that indeed there is a man under the suit. She quickly swallowed the thought and filed it away.

He looked at her and she held his concealed gaze for a few, long seconds. She wondered what thoughts were whizzing across his brain.

“Who knows what you look like?”

He merely stared at her. She tried, “Anyone?”

He shook his head no.

She continued speaking softly, finally looking away. “But isn’t that lonely? I mean not being comfortable enough in another’s presence to be seen as you are?”

She knew this was a sensitive topic for him and feared she’d taken it a step too far. But fortune favored the bold, and she wanted to understand the silent man in front of her.

He promptly left the room, and she sagged against the counter. She thought he’d left, and instead there he was returning black notebook in hand. He came to stand next to her, so close her head reached his shoulders. He too leaned back against the counter mirroring her stance. He scribbled against the paper.

Are we friends?

She smiled confused, “Uhm I’d like to think so, but it's not something you just decide, it just happens when you enjoy being around a person. Do you see me as a friend?”

He stared at her for the longest, and she found herself glancing behind him at the knives stand further down on the counter. She could feel her heart beating loudly and grew worried that she’d truly overstepped his boundaries.

Relief flooded her when he finally nodded.

When can I see you again?

He found he needed to leave, he needed to think somewhere he could focus. Those dark chocolate eyes of hers disarmed him, and he felt vulnerable under her gaze. The fact she’d seen his hands had shaken him. But she hadn’t recoiled, he reminded himself.

Sarah thought about it, “How does Wednesday evening sound? Same time?”

He nodded. 

He wasn’t sure what friends did when parting. He’d observed that some hug, some shake hands, some wave... What stage were they at? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate in this situation.

He drew his characteristic smiley face on the notebook for her to find, and flipped it closed. He felt shaky under his collected exterior, and her perfume sent him over the edge. He twisted and pulled her close into his chest, an arm around her back as he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her vanilla leave-in conditioner. Just as quick, he pulled away, straightened his posture and walked out of the room, leaving the notebook on the table.

Sarah was bewildered. Her heart was racing, her thoughts jumbled into an incoherent mess. She stood there for a couple minutes. But what truly surprised her, was that she felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach, a blush creeping up her neck. You have got to be kidding me, she thought to herself.

What was absent, instead, was the enveloping warmth she felt before a breakout. Maybe she wasn’t in danger around him, after all.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 ​  @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx

[criticizing-blogger]

I Promise - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warning: cursing, gory details

Word count: 1973

Sam and Dean sat at the motel room table, going over the small amount of evidence they had collected. The men still had yet to question the parents of the other missing kids. They had called it quits for the day because it was getting late. Sam’s laptop sat in front of him, multiple tabs open about mythology. Yet, he couldn’t figure out what’s been terrorizing the town. Of course, they do have little evidence to go on. Dean, on the other hand, had books open of almost every monster that they had faced.

Sam sighs as he closes his laptop, rubbing his face with his hands afterward. "I can rule out most of the monsters we’ve hunted."

Dean closes the book he was reading. "Same here. We just need to keep figuring this out. And fast."

Sam nods leaning back into his chair. With it being late at night, he decided to check the local library in the morning to see if he could find any information for the case. Maybe a folktale, since the internet isn’t giving him much, the books Dean was reading weren’t helping either. Hopefully, the library will help, Sam thought. The two brothers didn’t have a clue as to what was terrorizing the town. “I’ll check the local library and see what they have. Check with the parents of the missing kids and see what they have to say.”

Dean nods his head.

__________

It was early in the morning when Dean woke up. He sits up stretching his arms over his head and yawns. He grabbed the pillow that laid behind him, throwing it towards his brother. “Rise and shine, Sammy.” But there came no response. Usually, Dean would hear a groan or a shout, or would even be hit back. He looks at his brother’s bed only to see it empty.

The door to the motel room opened to Sam in joggers clothing walking in. Shutting the door, he looks over at the brother in bed to see him staring. “What?”

Dean rolls his eyes and groans as he falls back onto the bed. He closes his eyes hoping to fall back asleep. 

“Dude, get up.” Sam spoke but when he got no reply, he told him again. And still, no reply. Sam knew Dean was just ignoring him so he huffs and grabs what he needs for a shower. When the man in bed hears the bathroom door close, he pops one eye open looking towards it. He hears the water start running and a grin makes its way onto his face. Dean stretches his arms up over his head then flips onto his stomach, putting his arms under his head and gets comfortable.

Not much longer later, Sam finishes his shower, quickly drying off and getting dressed. He walks out just to see Dean had fallen back to sleep. Sam walks over to his bed grabbing the pillow. He slowly and quietly made his way over to his sleeping brother. Knowing Dean, he can fall asleep faster than Crowley can snap his fingers which according to Sam, it did not surprise him.

He stood next to Dean’s bed, the pillow raised with his arms. The white object slammed right into the sleeping man's head. Sam quickly pulled it back in time just as Dean pulled the gun out from his other pillow sitting up, pointing it at Sam. “Damn it, Sam!” He sticks the dangerous weapon back in its original place. “I was having a hot dream with a sexy stripper.”

“Gross, Dean.” Sam states with disgust evident in his voice. “Get ready.” When Sam turned around, Dean sticks his tongue out at him.

____________________

Sam got dropped off at the town's public library. He walks in through the clear glass doors and looks around as he walks towards the books. Only three, maybe four, people were here. Of course, Sam didn’t think people were just going to wake up early in the morning just to read.

He starts at the town’s history section. His hands reached for books called ‘The History of Southhollow,’ ‘what Lies in the Hollow Tree,’ and ‘The Diary of Edgar Smith,’ and so on. Gone through so many cases before, especially with small towns like this one, Sam knew how to go about research. Specifically topics of witchcraft, rituals, and even folklore that might’ve taken place at any point in time.

Sam looked around more and grabbed books he thought would help him solve this case then headed towards an empty table in the back corner of the library. He sets the books he chose down and gets as comfortable as he could get and starts reading ‘The History of Southhollow.’ 

The History of Southhollow 

Southhollow, founded in 1659, was one of the many permanent settlements in what would become part of the United States.

On September 1st, 1659 the governor, Edgar Smith, declared the land he and his men discovered to be called Southhollow. The site for the new town was quickly picked for many reasons.

It only took Sam a couple of hours to the short book as it did not contain information that would have been relevant to the case. He sets it aside and starts on the next book.

‘The Diary of Edgar Smith,’ Sam thought. ‘ this might give me something.’ 

February 3rd, 1659

It was evening when my men and I arrived at this empty plot of land surrounded by trees. I chose that we are to camp here for the night and return to search for new land on the morrow. The journey to America was rough as storms clouded the seas and the tides were difficult to pass. My men and I come from Europe. We are in search of land in America to make a new home. 

 Sam read the entry, and just like the other book, he didn’t see anything of importance. He started to feel hopeless. The first book didn't give him the information he needed. So Sam had decided to skim the entries not to waste any more time as he did on the first book. 

 _________________

        Dean, on the other hand, was on his way to talk to the parents of the first missing child and to find out any more information Sam might have missed. He steps out of the impala, fixing his suit as his eyes roam over Johnson's large, luxurish house. He shuts the vehicle door and makes his way to talk to the porch. Dean rang the doorbell hearing Mozart play as a jingle. The man closes his eyes and sighs muttering, “freakin’ rich people.”

Movement from inside the house could be heard causing Dean to quickly fix his stance, opening his eyes as seriousness took over his face. It took a moment before a woman’s voice was heard through the door. “Yes? Who is it?”

“My name is Agent Lee, ma’am. I’m with the FBI,” he grabs his fake badge from his black suit pocket and flashes it to the lady through the peephole. The door sounds an unlock and opens to show a brown haired woman. He puts the badge back as she moves to let him in the house. His legs carry him through the threshold as his eyes look over the expensive objects.

“I’m Elizabeth. Can I get you anything to drink?” She asks, closing the door and watches him turn around at her voice.

“Coffee, please.” Dean smiles.

She nods her head, gesturing her hand towards the living room. “Have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Dean watches her leave before taking a seat in a chair that sat on the right side of the room. A coffee table, with a photo frame and flowers in the middle, sat before him and a couch on the other side. His eyes notice a photo of a man and woman whose arm is hooked through his and a young boy. Dean carefully picks it up and examines it. It reminded him of when his parents were alive and he didn’t know monsters existed.

“That’s my husband, William, and our son, Noah.” She walks into the room holding a tray with two cups of coffee on saucers and a bowl of sugar cubes. She bends down, setting the tray on the table. “I’m sorry. I don’t have milk or cream. How many sugar cubes would you like?”

Dean sets the frame back down. “Uh, none,” he spoke and he watched her shaky hands hand the cup and saucer to him, taking a seat on the couch. “What can I help you with, Agent?”

“I’m here about your son's disappearance.”

Elizabeth nods, a sad sigh leaving her mouth. “You must be partners with the other man that was here yesterday. He disappeared a month ago. My husband left for work early leaving me to take Noah to school. And when I went to pick him up at three p.m., he never came running to my car like he did everyday after school. I waited for thirty minutes thinking he was doing a test or something. After those minutes had passed, I walked into the building and walked to his classroom. He wasn’t in there and none of the staff saw him leave.”

Dean nods for her to continue.

She took a deep breath. “I went straight to the police station. They said I cannot file a missing persons report for twenty-four to seventy-hours. So I left calling my husband. He wasn’t worried. He thought Noah probably went to a friends house. I called all his friends' parents but none of them saw or had him. So all I could do was wait. The next day, a new police officer, Oliver Davis, was doing his rounds outside of town the next day. He noticed something bright red in the trees. He drove down the path into the forest and stopped a long way in. He went to check it out. He took a good look at it and saw my son's name on the tag.” She let out a loud sob. “The sheriff gathered a search party a day later and it lasted late into the night. No one found anything until the third day of searching. A group found an abandoned house and told the sheriff through the walkie talkie. He searched the house and found my son's dead body.”

“Was there any scratches or bite marks of any kind?” Dean asks.

“There were scratches over his chest and stomach and back. I, uh, I have photos.”

He watches her get up and walk over to the entryway dresser by the front door. She pulls the top drawer open, grabbing a manila-yellow colored envelope. Elizabeth makes her way back to her seat handing Dean the proof. "The coroner said it was an animal attack." 

He opens it pulling out the crime scene photos. The woman looks away not wanting to see them and puts a hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out.

The picture shows Noah’s full body lying on his back. His red shirt torn with a piece missing. Deep scratches lined from his chest to his belly. Pants littered with holes and dirt and no shoes with one dirty sock. He moved onto the second photo. It showed a close up of the cuts. Flesh could be seen and pieces of skin ripped in multiple places as blood oozed out. On the last photo was a trail of blood leading to the body on the abandoned house floor.

Dean looked up at the mother and felt instantly bad for her. He couldn’t imagine what it was like losing a child. “Can I borrow these?”

“Take them. My husband wanted copies but I don’t. I want to never see those again. Is that all?”

_________________________________________

DEAN X READER TAGS:

akshi8278

[spencers-dria]

The First of Many

Someone To Stay Ch. 10

Spencer Reid x fem reader

Content Warnings: *Mentions of alcohol/drinking

Y/N POV:

You roll over in bed to glance at your phone to see it's 11 AM. It feels nice to sleep in with no alarm. After putting on your glasses and slippers and finally dragging yourself out of bed, you stroll into the kitchen and pour a bowl of fruity pebbles. You put a music playlist on the TV to play in the background.

It has been almost a week since your talk with Spencer. As much as it hurt you to see him broken in that way, you felt honored that he trusts you enough to share that part of his life with you. Talking about trauma is never easy. You should know.

You think over some of the things you said to him. Spencer's entire job involves profiling people and reading every tone, every bit of body language. You are sure that he most likely noticed changes in you as you spoke about coping with trauma, but you're grateful he hadn't felt the need to prod you with questions. He had become your best friend here, but you aren't sure you're quite ready to bare the darkest parts of your soul to him.

Suddenly you hear a knock at your door, not caring if a neighbor or maintenance worker sees you in your pajamas, you stroll towards the door and swing it open. You rub your eyes under your glasses to make sure you're seeing correctly. Spencer is standing in your doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Y/N I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up! I just assumed since it was 11..."

You wave, brushing off his comments. "Its fine, really. I actually wasn't asleep. I was eating a late breakfast though." You suddenly become very self-conscious, and its not just because you're in your pajamas. Spencer had seen you that way on the trip. You realize as you stand in your doorway that you're wearing a tank and tight fitting PJ shorts and your bear paw slippers. Your hair is a giant mess. You have no makeup on, which you usually relied on to conceal your less than perfect skin. You never really outgrew acne, even in your twenties. You were also in your glasses. Basically, you felt like a hot mess, somewhat like Princess Anna waking up on coronation day. Even though your movie nights had been casual, you always tried to be at least somewhat put together without looking like you tried too hard.

"Umm come in" You step aside as you cross your arms over your chest, your gaze staying on your feet.

"Sorry you had to see me like this. I thought maybe it was just apartment maintenance. I can go change real quick..."

A look of genuine confusion spreads across his features. "I don't understand.  See you like what?"

You gesture to your entire body. "Like...this! I'm a complete mess, Spence." You try to keep your face down to conceal the redness growing on your cheeks.

Spencer shakes his head before letting out a small chuckle. You glance up, confused as to what about this he could possibly find funny. He better not be laughing at you, seeing as you are embarrassed enough as it is.

He shakes his head, smiling. "Silly girl."

Spencer reaches down and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. "You always look pretty."

The voice of Mama Cass singing Dream a Little Dream of Me fills the air between the two of you. There's so much tension and you don't know where it came from. Usually you're really comfortable with Spencer. But you definitely feel butterflies in your stomach as the two of you lock eyes.

You definitely can't hide the blush heating up your face now. It seems like he is just now processing what he's said and done because his eyes widen as you see his face turn red as well. He lets out a cough, breaking eye contact and staring down at his shoes as he begins to fiddle with his hands. Your gaze lingers on his hands for just a moment before you turn on your heel and head back towards the kitchen table to finish your cereal.

Spencer follows you, hesitantly, leaning against the kitchen counter. There are a few moments of silence before he finally says "I was at a coffee shop just one block over. I had something to ask you so I thought I'd just stop by."

"Like I said before, you are always welcome Spencer. So what is your question?"

"It's probably stupid. You are more than welcome to say no. I probably would if I were you."

You laugh and roll your eyes. "Wow you're really selling me on this, keep going."

"Well... the team they uh, well sometimes they go out for drinks. If I don't go along they never let me hear the end of it. I usually end up sitting b-by myself while they all head to the dance floor. I j-just thought...I thought maybe you might..."

Spencer looks up, surprised to see you smiling and nodding enthusiastically.

"I'd love to. It's been a couple weeks since I've seen everyone. And honestly I could use a few drinks myself."

A toothy grin slowly grows on his face as he bites down on his bottom lip. He does this all the time but for some reason, today, you find your eyes staring at his lips a little too long after he's done this. Wow, he has really nice lips. Like reallyyy nice lips. How had you never noticed? I wonder if he's ever kissed anyone. He's in his thirties, surely he has. But he hasn't really spoken about past relationships. Then again neither had you.

You accidentally held your gaze on him while completely losing yourself in this train of thought. You are brought back to the present by Spencer calling your name. Your eyes quickly dart up to meet his as you realize just how far down the rabbit hole you had allowed your mind to go. You shake your head quickly, pushing these thoughts far away. It's hard enough to find a really great friend who will stick around that you can trust. You had no intention of screwing that up any time soon.

"Sorry! I'm really tired. I guess I just kind of zoned out there for a second." You quickly explain before returning to eating your bowl of cereal.

"Well I guess I should get going...I'll see you tonight?" Spencer starts to head toward the door.

"Wait! Why are you leaving?"

"Oh well I just though, well...I don't know. Are you saying you want to hang out?"

"You're my best friend here Spencer, of course I want to hang out!"

Before long the two of you had the Goblet of Fire ready to go on the TV with an array of snacks strewn across the coffee table. You noticed Spencer didn't sit on the far end of the couch this time. Instead, he sat almost on the middle. You decide to sit next to him, looking at him to make sure he's okay with it. He only gives you a smile, seemingly okay with this new arrangement.

By halfway through the movie, you had somehow ended up sharing one of your large fuzzy blankets and you had scooted close enough together that your head was on his shoulder. He hadn't said anything but you were fairly certain his breathing had changed as you'd done it.

The two of you had never been very touchy so you're not sure what had brought out this side of you today. Your thoughts start to wander again. Maybe it was the compliment he'd given you earlier. Spencer had never called you pretty, but hearing him say it gave you all kinds of nerves. You hadn't really thought about Spencer in that way. It's been years since you'd had a crush on anyone. You've forgotten what that even feels like. Surely that's not what this was. The two of you were just close. It's not like he'd ever be interested. He was a literal genius, an FBI agent, not to mention he was gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted. Why are you even thinking about this! You don't like Spencer. Geez Y/N, get it together.

After the movie ends, you sit up and look at Spencer. "Do you need time to go home and get ready or will you be ready to leave from here?"

"Oh, I think I'm ready. I can leave and come back if you like?"

"That's silly. You can just wait here while I get ready, unless you have somewhere better to be" you jokingly raise your eyebrows and shove his shoulder. He fakes like he's been hurt, causing you to giggle. Ugh, why are you giggling? You sound like a lovesick schoolgirl.

You quickly stand up and head towards your bedroom before turning around to Spencer. "You are more than welcome to and food and drinks you find, and you can look through and find something on the TV if you'd like."

You take a quick shower and throw on a robe while you fix your hair and make up. You pull out a curling rod. You had a balayage done to your hair earlier that year, so curls really did look best, making the dark to blonde even more blended. As you look through your closet, you decide to pick an outfit that will give you a bit of a confidence boost. You pull on a spaghetti strap snug fitting maroon, velvet dress. It's a little lower cut than you usually wear, but it comes almost to your knees, keeping you from feeling like you've exposed too much skin. The back dipped fairly low, with the top half of your back covered in a piece of lace. After slipping into some strappy black sandals, you look in the mirror and admire the way it accentuates your curves. You'd been blessed with more booty than chest, so luckily you don't have to worry about showing an inappropriate amount of cleavage around Spencer's coworkers. Your legs also looked even more long and slender than usual. Yep, this was the perfect outfit.

You check your makeup in the mirror once more. Dark lipstick with smoky eye shadow and long lashes. You did this for yourself. You liked being able to feel a little bit sexy every once in awhile. You weren't dressing for anyone else. That is what you keep repeating in your head, and you will keep doing that until you believe it.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before stepping into the living room. Spencer is lying on the couch, reading through the book from your coffee table: Edgar Allen Poe's Complete Works. He's so entranced in the book, he doesn't notice you enter the room. Once he hears the clack of your heels across the floor he finally glances up and does a double take. Eyes wide, he opens his mouth to speak but just shuts it again. You can't help but think this was the reaction you had hoped for. Why were you dressing to impress Spencer? Maybe it's because he thought you were pretty when you were at your worst. You wondered what he would think when you put on your best. Based on the growing redness spreading from his face and down his neck, it's fair to say he liked what he saw. You could have sworn you hear him whisper a "wow" under his breath.

"I feel like I'm underdressed now." He finally speaks up.

"You look fine Spencer!"

"Fine? Fine can't compare with...with this!" He gestures to all of you.

You decide to play dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just threw on a dress I thought would fit in with the atmosphere" You shrug. You want to tell him he looks more than fine. That he always looks fantastic, but you decide to keep this to yourself.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you're dressed, but if it bothers you that much I can help." You step forward and look him up and down, trying to figure out the best way to do this.

"You clearly know what you're doing," he laughs. "Go ahead."

"Ok first take off the sweater vest."

Spencer removes his black velvet-like blazer in order to remove a grey, patterned sweater vest. He's left in a dark purple button down with a matching tie, black slacks, and dress shoes.

You step closer and reach out to touch his tie, hesitating for a moment.

"May I?"

He nods for you to go ahead. You remove the tie and undo the top two buttons on his shirt. You then grab his blazer and help him to slip back into it. Lastly, you move your hand up to ruffle his hair a bit. You step back to take in the whole look.

"Well?" he asks.

You roll your tongue to the side of your mouth, biting on it as you try, very poorly, to hold back a smirk. You're impressed with your finished result.

He looks...hot. NO! Stop...nope. We're not going there. He's your best friend. That's all.

He must have noticed the way you've been eyeing him and the look on your face, because he is slowly turning a deep shade of red.

"See for yourself" you say as you lead him over toward a mirror.

After looking over his new appearance, he smiles. You can tell he feels confident like this. Confident Spencer is something you wish you saw more of. You're glad you could help him to see that he can be attractive. You wish he knew that he always has been.

"Come on pretty boy" you say, imitating Derek as you lead the two of you downstairs.

Luckily the bar is well within walking distance from your apartment. When you open the door to step outside the cool night air hits your skin, causing you to shiver a bit. You immediately feel a soft warmth enveloping your arms and shoulders. You look up to see Spencer wrapping his blazer around you. If any other guy had done this, you would certainly make assumptions, but Spencer was such a kind-hearted guy, you know he's only trying to be a gentleman. You give him a quick smile of appreciation as the two of you start to make your way to the bar.

When you finally walk through the doors, you make your way to a corner booth where you see some of Spencer's team...or your friends? You suppose they've really become your friends here. After greeting Penelope, Derek, and JJ each with a hug, you and Spencer walk up to the bar together to order drinks. Spencer orders water, which doesn't surprise you, but you've already decided that he needs a little help letting loose.

"Would you let me pick out a drink for you?" you ask, giving him your sweetest puppy dog eyes before he has a chance to shoot down the offer.

He sighs as though annoyed but his smile says other wise. "Fine, but go easy on me please."

"Two rum and cokes please, and make mine a double."

The two of you make your way back over to the rest of the group with your drinks. You listen to the four of them chat about some recent cases they've worked on. The topics don't bother you much, as you've always found that line of work intriguing. Since you're mostly listening, you finish your drink fairly quickly before Penelope speaks up.

"Enough work talk! I came to dance. Who's with me?"

Finishing your final sip, you slam the glass down on the table. You stand up to join her. "I'm in!"

JJ stands as well. "Alright, lets go, ladies!"

You hand Spencer back his blazer and look to him and Derek, waiting to see if they'll join.

"I'm feeling a little sore after that take down the other day. Maybe I'll join when I'm s a few more drinks in," Derek says.

"I'm okay for now." Spencer sees your hesitation when you realize he wont be joining. "Its okay though! Go and have fun." He gives a smile to let you know that he'll be fine. "Plus I have Morgan here to talk to for now."

"That's right, pretty boy!" Derek laughs as he throws his arm around Spencer, messing with his hair.

You laugh at the two as you turn to join the girls on the dance floor. You're grateful that those two have one another. Spencer is an only child and Derek seems to act in a big brother role. You know that it's good for him.

As you make your way to JJ and Penelope, the DJ is playing Now or Never by Tritonal. You are so grateful for a place that has good taste in music. EDM is just another one of many genres you enjoy. You and the girls are belting out the words together: "I'd rather have one night, than nothing foreveeerrr!"

As the beat builds you pick up your pace on the dance floor, giggling and dancing around with your friends. The beat finally drops and you're jumping and letting loose. You haven't had this much fun in a long time. Towards the end of the song, your gaze lands on Spencer. You notice Derek has left him to flirt with a girl over by the bar. He brought you along so he wouldn't be alone, and here you had left him. You make your way over to sit next to him after ordering two shots. You sit down next to him and slide his over towards him. He catches it as he raises his eyebrows at you.

"C'mon, you're gonna dance with us! I figure it will probably help if you drink to loosen up a bit first."

Spencer stares down at the shot in front of him, clearly questioning whether or not he should go along with this.

"You don't really have to, Spence. But I thought I'd at least try. I don't want you to have to be all alone over here. And I think you might actually have fun, if you gave it a chance. Plus, I can't dance at all! So you'll be fine as long as you stick with me."

This causes him to chuckle. He looks up at you. "Thanks, Y/N. I do appreciate it. I think everyone else has just kind of given up on asking me to join. But since you care enough to try I guess it's the least I can do."

"Woo! yes! Okay...bottoms up?" You look to him as the two of you clink your shots and down them in one quick motion. He seems to struggle a bit more after, since he doesn't do this often.

You hear Dirty Sexy Money comes on and your eyes light up with excitement. "Yes! This is a great song! Come on!" You grab his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

You can tell Spencer is a bit unsure of himself still. You grab both of his hands and start to move him around, just trying to get him to loosen him. Both of you can't help but laugh. Neither of you are actually dancing well, just goofing off and having fun. Alcohol leaves you with more confidence than usual, so you're singing the song out loud, not caring who hears. You feel your confidence building even more. The problem with drinking is, you tend to get a bit flirty. This is usually directed at the nearest person, and it's usually the worst possible person. You begin to stop caring who's watching or how you're coming across. The song makes you feel sexy and you want to have fun.

Your dancing changes from silly to sexy as the chorus begins. You've got your hands in the air as you do body rolls. Your hips are swaying with the music. You're not sure how they got there, but before you know it your hands are wrapped around Spencer's neck. He looks so attractive to you right now. Your eyes stay locked on his as you sing the words of the song. You're feeling even more bold so you turn your back to him and grab his hands to place them on your sides. You shimmy down towards the ground and back up again. You feel him tighten his grip on you. You turn around to see a wide-eyed Spencer. His face is beet red and he's sweating despite not having danced much. You know that if this was bothering him, he would have walked away. The alcohol is keeping you from caring how this will affect your friendship afterwards. All you can think about is now. His words, his actions today, HE had made you feel confident and sexy. In this moment, you wanted him to know that. You're too buzzed and too busy taking in how good he looks to notice his eyes dart down to your lips, not so differently from what you had done earlier.

The thick tension in the air between you is quickly dispensed as the song changes. As Last Friday Night comes on, you pull Spencer over to the rest of the group on the dance floor, which now included Derek. The five of you end up singing and dancing around together, but you and Spencer can't help but stealing glances when the other isn't looking. Neither of you can forget what happened earlier. The other three share knowing looks.

As the night comes to a close, the group parts ways. Spencer opens the door for you as the two of you step outside to head back to your apartment. Most of the walk is made in silence. He passes his car outside your building and walks with you all the way back to your door. After unlocking it, you turn to him to say goodnight. Once again, your eyes land on his lips, one of his many wonderful features. You find yourself wishing you could kiss him, but your logic tells you this would not be a good idea at the moment. You are aware that your judgment is clouded. So instead, you pull him in for a hug. He buries his face in your shoulder as he whispers "Goodnight Y/N" next to your ear.

You rush inside and close the door before you have a chance to do anything you regret. After getting ready for bed, you are surprised to hear a small alert from your phone. It's a little late for anyone to be texting you. It's Spencer.

Spencer📱I had fun tonight. Thanks for making me try new things. :)

Y/N📱Me too! And good because I have a feeling that was a first of many haha

You fall into your bed, crawling under the covers. It feels comfier than usual, but you know it's because of how tired you are. You take in the feeling of the slick sheets against your skin and the warmth the blankets provide. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, remembering all the events of the night.

A/N: Thanks for reading this far! Y'all are awesome! Let me know what parts you like best!

Have a wonderful week loves 💖

[banditthewriter]

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 8

This is part eight which means two more after this! Hope it’s living up to expectations!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

The man in the shop was surprisingly familiar even though it had been dark the first time you met him. John Silver, the cook on The Walrus. He gave you the same overly charming smile that you remembered from the night he had come by with Billy.

“Ah, Miss Y/N. I have heard so many things about your candles that I just had to see them for myself.”

You raised an eyebrow at that but when he didn’t budge, you simply gestured along the wall where you had crates full of candles of all sizes.

“I see. Thank you.” He walked over to them and perused, hands gentle as he picked a few up. “They look as promised. Long lasting are they?”

“What the fuck do you want Silver?” He looked surprised and you laughed, leaning against the counter as you did so. “No one has ever asked questions about my candles. They are candles; you light them, they burn. So unless you want to add candle making to your repertoire, what is it that you want?”

He nodded his acceptance of that. You watched him walk around the edge of your store before he stopped, close enough to you for you to see that he had a few bruises on him. Guess pirate life was working for him.

“I wanted to apologize. Over the last few weeks I’ve heard some disturbing things have happened to you and I feel like they might have been my fault. Ever since I stole the map from Captain Vane and had to have Billy get me out of that problem–”

“The only thing that your stealing that map did was cause some of the crew from The Ranger to cause a little chaos in my store. Since then everything that’s happened has been my decision. Mine,” you emphasized as you jabbed yourself in the chest, “and mine alone. It is not your fault, not Billy’s, no one’s. Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said solemnly. 

There was still something on his face and he hadn’t turned to leave even though he’d given his apology. You sighed and waved a hand at him.

“What else?”

He turned his head, the black curls obscuring his face as he did. When he turned back, he looked honestly confused.

“I just don’t understand something. You’re with this Captain Vane now, but just a few weeks ago he threatened to kill me and Billy. You were with Billy at the time.”

You were almost as tired of explaining your relationship with Billy as you were explaining your pretend relationship with Vane. Perhaps you needed to rent some criers for the street.

“A few weeks ago he threatened to kill me. He’s a pirate and he had lost something. Flint would threaten me with death if the roles had been reversed.” You smiled a bit at Silver as that seemed to surprise him. “Welcome to Nassau, John Silver. It’s not what you’re used to. Here, things are as fluid as the sea you just sailed in on. Here almost nothing is as important as money and freedom.”

Two things you had in large supply.

Silver took a step towards you.

“Not even love?”

That made you smile sadly as you turned away from Silver to look at the wall of candles.

“Love is many things but sadly I do not think it is mine. Money and freedom are more than enough to make up for what I lack.”

There was nothing but silence so you turned around to look at Silver. He was staring at you curiously.

“Are you sure?”

“I have more money than I know what to do with, a free woman in a time when they are usually property of their father’s or their husbands. Yes, I’m sure.”

He shook his head at that.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before either of you could say any more, a local couple came into the shop to pick up their order. You excused yourself from Silver to help them. Once you were done and paid, you looked around but Silver was gone.

Had he meant if you were sure that love was not yours? Why, because he knew that Billy was in love with you? That did not make the love yours.

And the love you did have, well that was not yours either, was it? It belonged to a man who did not want it.

Such was life.

------

The man left behind from The Ranger crew this time was a man named Leopold. He was older, quiet, but he had a caring smile when you offered him something to drink or to have him sleep on the cot like Edgar had. He kept two loaded pistols with him at all times and his sword rarely left his hand.

He was there when the men your contacts had sent arrived. Six large men that all looked like that ate men like Edgar and Leopold for lunch. Once they gave you the letter from the man you usually corresponded with, you introduced yourself to each of them. Then you went out of the shop and told Leopold he was free to go back to the camp.

“The captain won’t like that miss,” he said as he looked past you and into the shop where the six men were getting acquainted with your domain.

“I’ll deal with that. I have more protection than I know what to do with. Do what you want until The Ranger comes back to Nassau; I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

He thanked you before he left, one last look over his shoulder before he was gone.

You made the decision that night in your bedroom, the man named Lucky asleep in the shop on the cot while the rest of the men looked for a place to stay nearby. You would tell Vane that the truth could be told now. He didn’t have to sell to Guthrie anymore at all. You were protected and there was nothing Eleanor could do to you.

Decision made, you curled up to sleep but tossed and turned all night.

------

“Why the fuck isn’t Leopold with you?”

You looked up at the angry, fuming voice of Charles Vane as he approached you in the street of the town. You started to explain but everything happened so quickly. He reached out to grab your arm but didn’t get that close before he was slammed against the wall of a nearby building.

“Stop, stop Emmett, I know him, it’s alright,” you called as you grabbed Emmett and pulled him backwards.

And of course Vane couldn’t be reasonable. No, he had to pull a pistol and point it at Emmett in the middle of the fucking street.

“Stop it, Christ, both of you! Vane, Emmett is part of my protection that I told you I was working on. Emmett, this is Charles Vane, my business partner.”

“Your business partner needs to keep his hands to himself,” Emmett said as he crossed his arms, staring down the pistol that Vane was holding. 

“Lord save me from men and their egos. Vane, put the goddamn gun down,” you said as you stepped between the two a little more fully.

Vane did lower the pistol but only because it was pointing at you. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he looked past you at Emmett.

“How do you know they can be trusted?”

That was an easy question to answer.

“Familial loyalty,” you explained with a look at Emmett. “Emmett’s family and mine were very close, my father saved his parents’ lives once. The others are the same way. My contacts decided that loyalty was a better motivator than money, although there’s plenty of that on offer as well.”

“Already told you I’d do it for free,” Emmett replied from behind you.

“I trust my men. I don’t know these men,” Vane said as if that solved that. 

He had a habit of thinking his word was the last word. Not in this case. Not to you.

“I understand that Vane, but this is for the best. This way you don’t have to split your hauls anymore. You can completely write off Eleanor Guthrie and her rules. You’ll be free.”

His eyes were wide as he looked at you.

“She’ll know of your involvement.”

“Hence why I didn’t mention this until my protection came through. They landed in Nassau just days ago. The others are getting the lay of the land right now.” 

Vane still didn’t look convinced so you used the last card in your hand. 

“This way people don’t have to think that we’re together. We can be honest that it’s just a business relationship. We won’t have a need for the secret meetings or… feelings, anything like that. We can go back to how it was.”

You hadn’t imagined one way or another how he would react, but you didn’t expect him to completely lose all emotion on his face. It was as if a veil had been pulled down and suddenly there was nothing. 

“Of course. I’ll make sure the men bring the whole haul to your warehouse then.”

Without so much as a goodbye or any indication that he realized this was probably the last time the two of you would talk for a long while, he turned and walked away.

You should be used to watching Vane walk away, but you found that it hadn’t gotten easier. In fact you might even say that it was harder this time than any before.

“Do you want me to go and bring him back?”

You turned and looked at Emmett curiously.

“Whatever for?”

He shook his head and gestured for you to lead the way again. When you refused to answer, he sighed in acceptance.

“It’s obvious you love him. And it’s obvious he feels something too.”

You let out a laugh at that. You grabbed his arm and tugged on him for a moment before you released him completely.

“What you saw there is Captain Vane’s grateful acceptance that he doesn’t have to answer to anyone anymore. We are partners, that’s all.”

Emmett smirked as he looked over at you.

“I’ll be sure to tell the others that you’re a terrible liar. It’ll make it easier for us to protect you if we know that ahead of time.”

------

“Uh, Y/N?” 

You looked up and saw Billy and Silver being escorted in by Lucky, Emmett, and Miles. 

“They get a little touchy when more than one pirate is in the shop at a time,” you explained as you waved them all off. Lucky stayed near the door while Emmett and Miles went out to work on the bunkhouse that they were building with the other men. 

When you can’t find nearby accommodations, you make them.

“Who are they? And are they looking to join a crew?”

You laughed at that. More than one of the guys had explained that they had horrible seasickness after their journey to Nassau.

“They are my new protection. My employees, I suppose,” you said with a shrug as if you’d never really thought about it. “Since it’s becoming common knowledge that I am the fence for The Ranger, I realized that it might cause some issues with the Guthries and perhaps other crews.”

“That’s actually why we’re here,” Silver said as he gestured to ask if they could come closer.

Normally you think they would have just walked up to the counter. With Lucky at the door, they had probably thought twice about it.

“If you’re telling me that you or Captain Flint have a problem with what I’m doing, I’ll point out that my services to the other crews on this island haven’t changed.”

“No, the opposite actually. Flint was hoping you might be looking for another customer.”

The whole point of this deal was that The Ranger was to be your only client. That didn’t mean you couldn’t hear them through their proposition.

“Flint wants to part ways with the Guthries? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Billy shook his head, leaning in a little closer as if what he was about to tell you needed to be kept secret from your empty shop.

“You don’t understand how bad it’s gotten since Vane stopped using the Guthries as a fence. Eleanor is completely unhinged, making wild accusations and trying to turn people against them. Only problem is that you’re putting more money into this island than the Guthries ever could so no one is on their side. Flint’s tired of the melodramatics and wants someone a bit more professional.”

That was interesting. You’d heard how it had been when the news landed that you were the fence and The Ranger had been using you for a while already. The people from up the hill had come to you almost immediately to spread the gossip. Eleanor Guthrie was shamefaced and ridiculed for letting her “woman scorned” act cause her to lose one of the best crews on the island.

One of the best crews. The Walrus was the other best crew.

An idea started to take form, but you wouldn’t give it voice. Not yet at least.

“Vane is my partner. I wouldn’t be able to make any decisions without him.”

Silver nodded a bit as he moved to stand beside Billy.

“That’s not a no though, right? There’s a chance?”

“With Vane making the decision? A chance in hell,” Billy grumbled.

Maybe not. You thought you might have a way that Vane could see the use in bringing Flint into the fold. It might take a little miracle, but surely you were due some good luck by now.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just, I don’t know, fuck him to get him to agree?”

You glared at Billy. Lucky had turned at that, not liking hearing what he thought to be an insult towards his boss, but you gave him a shake of your head. Even if it had been meant as an insult, you still would’ve waved him off.

Billy was due one after how you treated him. But just one.

“I thought you understood. The whole thing was an act. What was going on between Vane and I was nothing but this partnership.”

Silver looked unconvinced. Billy looked the slightest bit angry.

“I saw the two of you, remember? When he came here covered in blood? I saw how you two looked at each other. That’s not a business relationship.”

You really wished people would stop telling you that there was more between the two of you. Every time you heard it you wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe that Vane felt something, that maybe there had been a mistake the night he’d come to you when The Tempest crew had attacked him. 

But it wasn’t real. None of it was.

“I’ll discuss this with Vane and let you know one way or another. Do you have a hunt coming up?”

“A few weeks. Our last haul was pretty big but we lost a lot of men in the battle. Half the vanguard was killed or died of their wounds.”

You nodded your understanding. Some of those sea battles were more dangerous than they were worth.

“Then we have time. Rest assured, I’ll make sure Vane actually thinks about it.”

------

“No.”

You rolled your eyes. Vane had barely let you get the first part of the request out of your mouth before he shot you down. Jack and Anne were also in the tent and neither of them looked surprised either. Anne barely looked up from where she filed her nails with her dagger, but Jack had actually started to grin.

“You will let me finish my sentence or I will make your life a living hell,” you threatened with a quick glare at Jack to let him know he wouldn’t escape your ire either. “What I was saying is that Flint has proposed that they become my customer as well and stop using the Guthries as their fence. I told them that I would bring it to you since you’re my partner in this.”

Vane made a show of waiting to make sure you were done before he spoke.

“I understand. My answer is no.”

You closed your eyes and counted to ten. And then twenty. Then you looked at Jack and Anne.

“Do you mind giving me a moment alone with your captain? I wouldn’t want anyone to be present when I call him an egotistical ass.”

Anne snorted as she stood up and walked by you. You caught her grin before she schooled her features. Jack was less inclined to school his features. He gave you a pat on your shoulder before he walked off.

“Do you have a reason besides your own damn pride that I shouldn’t be the fence for Flint as well? You know as well as I do that I get more leads than you can possibly chase down.”

Vane leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.

“It would be more danger for you. Taking on a second crew, sure, but the biggest crew that the Guthries have left? You think Eleanor went crazy when I left, take Flint from her.”

“I’m not scared of Eleanor Guthrie or her father. I have support from the merchants, the crews, the locals. They sell through legitimate means but I am legitimate. And I have protection.”

One of your guards was outside of the tent. He hadn’t been happy about being told you’d be out of his sight but they listened to you.

And you were pretty sure they had begrudgingly begun to trust Vane after they learned that he had killed for you. For the partnership.

“How do you suggest keeping the other crews from being pissed about it?”

This was where you might need that miracle.

“Because my services wouldn’t be exclusive to you and Flint. I would have to make it so that the two best crews on the island were welcome to fence through me with conditions. If a crew was able to rise up the ranks and stay level for six months straight, they’d become the number two crew and replace the one doing the least with me currently.”

Vane laughed.

“You think Flint will agree to that? You think I will?”

“Are you saying that you’re not confident in your ability to stay the highest earner on the island?”

It was a challenge, one you had gotten correct. Vane stood up and crossed his tent until he stood in front of you.

“You better know what you’re doing.”

You stared up at Vane and tried to tell your traitorous heart to be quiet.

“Trust, Vane. That’s the basis of all of this, remember?”

Trust. From the beginning, that’s what you had said. It was time to put that to the test.

X

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[virgil-is-a-cutie]

My Brother the Vampire: Fangtastic

Updates will be reblogs tbh

Summary: Patton is a vegetarian. Virgil is a vampire. And they're twins?!

Ever since Patton Abbott discovered that his long lost twin brother, Virgil Vega is a vampire, he's been soaking up everything Virgil will tell him about Franklin Grove's vampire community. It's all top secret, and Patton's sworn that he'll never tell another soul. But now, nosy tabloid reporter Serena Star is snooping around. As she gets closer and closer to the truth, it's up to Virgil and Patton to throw her off track. This is one fangtastic news story that can't get out!

Virgil Vega trudged sleepily into the breakfast room already dressed for school. He had on a black ripped skinny jeans, a violet long sleeved shirt underneath a black short sleeved shirt that had a quote from one of Edgar Allen Poe’s face on it with his thick combat boots. He had a black Panic! At The Disco necklace that had the symbol from the music video LA Devotee accompanied with his green emerald necklace. He slid into his chair, and rested his head on his palms wishing for more sleep. Mondays were just so boring. 

"Good morning, sleepybones," his father, Declan Vega said, placing a plate next to his head.

"Shh," Virgil murmured, his eyes closed, "I like quietness before eating."

"It's your favorite," his father coaxed gently. "Blood sausages with scrambled eggs and toast with some Crofters jam on it as well as bacon," he says smiling.

Virgil peered at the place and giggles as it was plated to look like a smiley face. The blood sausages semi dripping of blood since it was semi raw like he liked it. "Thanks," he mumbled softly.

His father, already dressed for work in black chinos and a black pin-striped shirt with French cuffs and a yellow bowtie, sipped his tea and picked up the remote control. "There is nothing better than lazy morning shows as on Mondays," he said smiling.

He flipped through the weather and some talk shows before settling on The Morning Star.

"Oh god please no," Virgil protested, "just looking at Serena Star's smile gives me sunburn gives my skin the hives."

Serena Star, WowTV's best celebrity reporter, had impossibly bright, bleached blond hair and eyes that looked as if they'd been surgically enhanced to be permanently wide open in either adoration or shock. Lately she'd been trying to cast herself as a serious journalist on her own morning news show, The Morning Star. Just the other day, Virgil had turned the TV off in exasperation after Serena had said, "Tell me, Mr. Senator, how does it feel to have a law named after you?"

This morning, Serena Star was standing with her back to a small crowd of people, talking into her microphone. She was wearing a tiny blue suede miniskirt under a knee-length trench coat, and the look in her wide eyes said "shock!" She was in what seemed to be a graveyard. A scruffy, black-clad teenager stood beside her...

Declan flipped the channel.

"Turn it back!" Virgil blurted.

"But you said-"

"I know. Turn it back!" he repeated.

Virgil could not believe his eyes in what he was seeing. The boy standing next to Serena Star was none other than Garrick Stephens, one of the lamest vampires at school. He and his bonehead friends, which everyone called them the Beasts, were always pulling dumb stunts, like seeing which one of them could eat the most garlic croutons without getting seriously ill. They weren't nearly as scary as they smelled, but they'd been annoying since forever. It didn't help that whenever Virgil brought his food that had garlic they'd make a show of gagging in the cafeteria.

Virgil frowns and begins to eat his breakfast while watching the news wondering why Garrick was on the news.

"Oh dear I do believe that's the local cemetery," his dad said.

Virgil realized he was right, meaning that this was being filmed less than five blocks from their home.

The camera panned over to an empty grave, and Virgil's dad turned up the volume.

"....yesterday's small town funeral went horribly wrong," Serena Star was saying off screen.

"Local deceased man, Mr. Alan Koontz, was scheduled for burial here at the Franklin Grove Memorial Cemetery. As Mr. Koontz was being lowered into the ground, eyewitnesses say that his casket creaked open." The camera zoomed in on a shiny midnight-blue coffin lying open next to the grave. "In a bizarre turn of events, out climbed an allegedly live person!" Serena continued. "Mr. Koontz's widow immediately fainted and was rushed to Franklin Grove General Hospital for treatment after the event occured."

Serena Star's frowning face reappeared on the screen, "friends of the family say that the person who emerged bore no resemblance to Mr. Koontz and was, in fact, a teenage boy."

The camera pulled back to reveal Garrick, who was licking his palm and then using it to slick back his greasy gross hair.

Virgil was frowning now too, since Garrick and his friends didn't know the meaning of the word "discreet." They probably couldn't even spell it. Ever since they were little kids, Virgil had always been amazed and dumbfounded at how close the Beasts routinely came to breaking the First Law of the Night.

Which was that vampires are never supposed to reveal their true selves to an outsider.

Thinking about that made Virgil feel uncomfortable. After all, he'd recently broken the First Law himself. But who could really blame him? He'd had no choice, though, he couldn't possibly keep the fact that he was a vampire secret from his identical twin, Patton, even if Patton himself was human. Didn’t help that Patton had seen Virgil’s palm heal from when he fell onto the thorn bush in his backyard.

The two had met once Patton arrived to school and after one day they realized the truth of them being twins. Which was a shocker to the two of them.

Virgil sighs, he may have broken the rule, but at least it wasn't on national TV.

Serena Star looked squarely at the camera. "I, Serena Star, now bring you an exclusive interview with the thirteen year old boy who was almost buried alive. I think you'll agree it's a story that's truly... INDEADIBLE!" A graphic with the word "INDEADIBLE!" materialized on the screen over Garrick's head, and Virgil rolled his eyes. Serena was always making up lame words for her on-screen headlines.

"Awesome!" Garrick Stephens grinned.

Virgil's head began to ache because how in the underworld, were they going to cover up a vampire popping out of a coffin in the middle of a funeral?

"Mr. Stephens...." Serena Star turned to face her subject, "... how do you feel?"

"I feel great!" Garrick said with a small shrug.

"Amazing!" Serena commented, with a slight frown. She had clearly been expecting Garrick to be upset. "How long were you in that coffin?"

"Like seven, eight hours I think. I really can't say."

"That must have been very unsettling," Serena Star prompted sympathetically.

"Only when those pallbearer guys carried it around and woke me up," Garrick said, shooting a peeved look off camera.

"Are you saying you were asleep in there?" asked Serena Star, her wide eyes widening even further.

"Yeah," Garrick answered before raising an eyebrow, "what would I be doing in there for... 8 hours? I woke up once I felt the casket being moved."

Virgil winced as Serena Star shook her head in disbelief. "You almost sound like you enjoyed yourself."

Garrick shrugged.

"Mr. Stephens," Serena Star said, a hint of disapproval in her voice, "what kind of person sleeps in a coffin?"

"It wasn't my idea." Garrick shrugged.

"Oh?" said Serena Star. "Whose idea was it?"

Garrick was about to answer, but then he seemed to think better of it. He then crossed his arms tilting his head, "you know that one episode of Mike and Molly where Molly was at her sister's job at the morge and they got high and got in the casket? That happened except for the weed and morgue part."

"Are you saying that you were just goofing around?" Serena Star asked with a slight frown as if she had became uninterested.

"Yep," Garrick replied, wrinkling his nose and scratching chin which Virgil and any other vampire in town knew he was lying since that was his social tick that showed he was lying.

"You mean..."

"I was messing around with my fellow kings of Franklin Grove Middle School!" Garrick cried out smirking and wildly waving, "yo, Kyle, Ricky, Dylan! I'm on TV!"

'What a moron,' Virgil thought.

"What exactly did your friends have in mind?" Serena Star probed.

"It looked comfortable so I climbed in," Garrick explained, his eyes glinting mischievously. "That's why I did it."

Virgil sighs knowing he was throwing a lame reason why he did it to avoid revealing any vampire secrets.

Like the fact that they slept in coffins. Still, it was a pretty semi lame alibi, especially because he kept going on about how it was really comfortable. At least he wasn't saying how it was the best sleep ever.

"The Interna 3 is a pretty comfortable casket," he said shrugging before leaning towards the microphone. "When they say `rest in peace,' they mean it!"

"Mr. Stephens, please," Serena interrupted. "That still doesn't explain how you ended up at Mr. Koontz's funeral."

"Uh... simple. The funeral home got the coffins mixed up. Did you know the Interna 3 is the best comfortable coffin?"

Serena Star yanked the microphone away, "are we to believe that this was really just an innocent student messing?" she said to Garrick, who shrugged again looking away in boredom.

"Or," she continued, turning slowly to the camera, "is there something more sinister at work?"

"She's looking for blood," Virgil mumbles softly.

"Clearly, a gruesome obsession with death," Serena went on as the camera zoomed in for a close-up of her shocked face, "nearly cost this misguided young misfit his life!"

"Who are you calling misguided?" Garrick's voice whined offscreen.

"And he isn't alone," Serena said, ignoring Garrick. "One look around this sleepy town reveals a dark obsession consuming the minds of its children." The live feed cut briefly to footage of the mall, showing a group of Goth sixth-graders.

"Are the youth of America next?" Serena asked ominously, as she reappeared on-screen. Then she frowned with determination, "I, Serena Star, will not rest until I find out the evil truth behind what's happening here."

Virgil grimaces knowing what comes next.

"Because the Star of truth must shine!" Serena Star declared dramatically, pumping her micro- phone in the air. It really was the worst journalis- tic sign-off Ivy had ever heard. "This is Serena Star. Wake up, America!"

A commercial came on, Declan shut off the TV. He turned around to look at his son and points to him, "you must promise me," he said, "that if you are ever on television, you will make a better impression than that boy Garrick Stephens."

"It's not funny, Dad," Virgil said with a frown on his pale face. "If Serena Star starts seriously investigating Goths in Franklin Grove, you know what she might find. What if she scoops the existence of vampires? None of us will ever be safe again!" Virgil rambles on as he began to quickly hyperventilate.

His father put down his tea quickly before helping his son calm down before he had an anxiety attack. "Virgil," he began to say gently, "we are talking about a woman best known for her special expose on the footwear of the rich and famous! I very much doubt she's capable of finding any real proof. Besides, the moment there's always bound to be a new bit of Hollywood gossip, Serena Star will forget all about Franklin Grove."

Virgil sighed once he had finally calmed down, "I hope you're right," he said, standing up to take his plate to the kitchen, "because if not, it's going to be really hard to get blood sausages around here."

-----

As they pulled up in front of Franklin Grove Middle School on Monday morning, Patton Abbott was applying his light pink lipstick in the visor mirror when he heard his papa gasp. He frowns and flipped up the visor to see the front steps of the school packed with people and a string of TV news vans lining the curb.

"Holy moly," Patton said breathlessly.

Remy Abbott, Patton's papa, double-parked and started to get out of the car as curiosity hit him.

Patton’s eyes widened before he quickly got out of the car and rushed to block Remy from opening the door further grabbed his papa's arm and squeaks out, "where are you going?"

"I want to see what all the commotion's about," his papa replied as he pulled down his sunglasses.

Patton immediately shook his head, "you can't come with me into school."

"Why not?" Remy asked with a pout.

"Because I'm in eighth grade," Patton explained with a frown.

Patton's papa smiled and shook his head and sighs before pouting, "well, okay," he said with a sigh.

"It's not you," Patton reassured him, "It's all parents. It's like a rule. I'll call you," Patton said reassuringly before he pecked his papa on the cheek, climbed out of the car, and squeezed between two news vans.

Patton frowns and walked towards the steps, careful to not step on any of the crews things. He looked up and noticed the bounce of soft blonde curls.

"Camilla!" he called out and his only human friend, Camilla Edmundson, turned around waved at him.

Patton made his way over to her and Camilla smiled, "hey. This is so wild," she said gesturing to the whole scene.

Patton frowns, "did something happen?"

Camilla raised an eyebrow before telling him about what had happened and dread slowly filled his stomach as he realized what Serena may stumble upon if she investigated.

Boy did he hope vampires were fiction, but nope! They were real and his twin, which he was still surprised about really I mean an identical twin! His own twin brother was a vampire as well! It just basically made them much more completely opposite yet identical twins.

Virgil had broken the first rule of Vampiredom, which was to never tell am outsider the secret.

And now Serena Star was here because of a stupid stunt Garrick Stephens did? Patton really wanted to yell at the stupid boy. For his brother's sake.

He really should look for Virgil.

"Come on let's go inside."

As he and Camilla moved the the crowd so as to make their way to the front doors of the school when he hears it. He heard a familiar high-pitched voice call out his name. He tried to ignore it and keep walking, but the voice shrieked even louder, "PATTON!"

Patton winced and told Camilla to go on without him before he reluctantly turned to see Charlotte Brown, his cheerleading captain, who was gesturing for Patton to join her in a circle of cameras.

Ever since Patton, with Virgil doing try outs for him, had made the squad a few weeks ago, Charlotte had acted as if she had forgotten that she'd tried to sabotage Patton, who was actually Virgil at tryouts. As well as if forgetting that Virgil, who was disguised as his twin, had caused her to be late to try outs and stole her role of Cheer Captain. Which must have soured her mood even though Patton turned down the role. In fact, Charlotte and her friends Katie and Allison all treated Patton like he was their BFF.

'At least it keeps the squad cheering as a team,' Patton thought to himself as he made his way over to the three girls.

"Tell them, Patton!" Charlotte said, grabbing his arm and pulling him in front of the cameras. "You know... what it's like as a new student here. How frightening it is with all the bad influences around this school."

Patton frowns before shaking his head quickly before yelping as a reporter in a rumpled suit stuck a microphone in front of Patton's face. "Have you ever slept in a coffin?"

"No," Patton said after blinking in confusion.

A woman holding a tape recorder asked, "Are you familiar with a street gang known as the Beasts?"

“...Street Gang is such a such a strong word for them,” Patton said raising an eyebrow remembering how Virgil had described them to him.

A short, determined looking woman in a tight, bright orange suit muscled in between the others, her blond hair shining in the sun. Patton’s eyes widened and he softly gasped. It was Serena Star herself! She looked much shorter than she did on TV. 

"Have you ever..." Serena Star said, thrusting her microphone under Patton's chin, "... felt threatened by everyone around you wearing black?"

"Uh... not really since both my papa and pops wear almost all black. Since when is there anything wrong with wearing black?" Patton asked raising an eyebrow. He didn’t notice the looks Charlotte gave her friends.

Charlotte quickly leaped in front of him and nods hurriedly causing her blonde hair to bounce, "yes, Ms. Star, I totally have!" she cried, clearly overexcited to be talking to a celebrity reporter like Serena. "Once," she said, flipping her hair dramatically, "I was in the girls' bathroom, re-applying gloss, when two Goth girls came in. They were dressed from head to toe in black rags, and their nails were covered in black nail polish. And guess what they did. They growled at me!"

"Growled at you?" Serena Star repeated with wide eyes.

"Absolutely," Charlotte nodded seriously. "I was so scared I ran out without even doing my mascara!"

“You had a perm last year and you looked like a poodle,” a student pops up beside Serena said in the microphone. A girl steps beside them and smirked, “that growl was more of a bark dumbass,” both giggled as they rushed up the steps cackling as Charlotte gave them a glare before looking back at Serena with a strained smile.

"So you think it's a problem," Serena Star pressed, "that so many Franklin Grove students are obsessed with darkness?"

"Totally!" Charlotte agreed, "black is so last season." She gestured toward Serena Star's turquoise stiletto heels. "I absolutely love your shoes, by the way. Are they from Hollywood?"

Patton sighs, but takes the moment to sneak away and make his way inside the building so he can find Virgil.

As he walked down the hallway he saw Virgil with his new boyfriend, Logan Daniels, who surprisingly has yet to have noticed how identical Patton and Virgil looked. Virgil was playing with his emerald ring that was attached to the necklace that he had around his neck.

The same ring identical to Patton’s that helped the two realize who they were and the only things from their birth parents.

“See you later,” Logan said with a smile before giving Virgil a kiss on his forehead to which caused Virgil to blush a light pink.

Virgil twirled the emerald ring on the chain around his neck, "okay," he said softly with a shy smile. His brother was so smitten. Patton thought it was super cute.

As Patton waited for Logan to leave he yelps as his shoulder was lightly gripped and looked to see that Roman was dragging him towards his brother. Virgil blinks and gasps as his best friend grabs his wrist and drags both twins to an empty boys bathroom. Roman quickly checked the stalls before turning to look at the twins.

“He was window shopping,” he said and from the questioning look he got from Patton the two friends explained how they changed coffins like they changed phones. As the two vampires began to worry about Serena Star, Patton tilts his head.

“Why don't we pretend and say werewolves are real to throw her off her trail,” he offered with a raised eyebrow.

The two exchanged a look and Patton’s eyes widened, “wait are you for-” he’s cut off by the bell ringing and his worries didn't ease as they didn't respond to him.

----

As 3rd Period finished, Virgil made his way to his locker when Roman grabs his wrist again.

“Hey what’s wrong?” Virgil asked with a frown and raised an eyebrow as Roman pulled out a tube of dark red lipstick and applied it, “Serena Star got the principle to call a meeting with The Scribe,” his friend said and Virgil frowns.

“When’s the meeting?” Virgil asked curiously.

“In 5 minutes, let’s go,” Roman said as he dragged his friend towards the meeting, "you know we're the only vamps on staff, right?" Roman whispered to his friend. “So we have to get on her good side alright?”

They noticed they were the last to arrive as they noticed everyone was seated around the big editorial table where Serena Star stood in the far end with their principle.

Both goths turned to find themselves face-to-face with a WowTV camera lens. They both hadn't noticed the cameraman squeezed into the corner by the door. For a moment, Virgil felt as if he'd been turned to stone, he hated being in front of cameras, crowds, and tape recorders.

With a gulp, Virgil looked right at Serena and smiled as brightly as he could, "as the senior writer of the Franklin Grove Scribe, allow me to say what an honor it is to meet a journalist of your, uh, standing, Ms. Star. I'm sure we all have a great deal to learn from you.” No matter what he had to get in her good side

Serena Star smiles and nods, "thank you," she says clearly flattered by the praise. She gestured to the boy sitting closest to her. "This young man just said that as well,” she said as she gestured to Toby Decker.

The bunny whom Patton told him was brought by The Beasts to his home when it was the day of the ball. He was also one of the best reporters on staff.

Both vampires sat beside Camilla and that was when Serena officiously placed her palms on the table. "I called you here, fellow reporters, because I need your help."

“Whatever it is, we can do our best,” Toby said eagerly as every member of The Scribe nodded.

“Good," said Serena, "because I'd like one of you to work with me on my nationally covered story about life here in Franklin Grove."

"You mean, be your assistant?" asked Will Kerrell, a 7thgrader who usually covered sports.  "Exactly,” Serena Star said as she nodded. She paused to let the information sink in. "I'm holding a audition, and the person who wins gets to be my assistant."  "How exciting!" Principal Whitehead said approvingly.  Virgil tilted his head a little wondering what she was up to.  Serena Star looked around the table with her wide eyes, "to audition, you have to get out there and get me a quote about Garrick Stephens and his coffin."  "What kind of quote?" 

"Something juicy," replied Serena Star, "something that will make the American public sit up and take notice. And the person who gets the best quote will get to help me, WowTV's Serena Star, with my story," she finished, her eyes sparkling.

‘She’s using teens to get what no adult can,’ Virgil thought to himself.

Virgil cleared his throat before nervously fidgeting, "does the quote have to be about Garrick Stephens's stunt at the cemetery?" he asked raising an eyebrow. "I mean, that was just a lame practical joke, right?" "I think there's more to the story," Serena said meaningfully, "and a good reporter will find out what."

Virgil cursed under his breath at that.

Camilla raised her hand, looking a little bored, "does everyone need to get a quote? I mean, I'm more of a critic than a reporter," she explained.

"Only those with investigative reporting experience need apply," Serena answered.

 Virgil raised an eyebrow seeing as Roman grinned at Camilla and whisper, "Looks like you and me are off the hook!" "Well, for those of you who do audition, I can- not imagine a greater opportunity than working with a journalist as respected as Serena Star," Principal Whitehead said.

If Serena Star noticed, she didn't show it. She flashed her trademark smile at the staffers around the table. "You have twenty-four hours to get your quotes. May the best reporter win!" she declared.  "Thank you, Ms. Star," Toby Decker said professionally. With that, the Scribe staff started to file out of the room, chattering about their high profile assignment. Roman started to leave, too, but Virgil put a hand on her arm. They had to talk to Serena first. "See you," Camilla said to Roman and Virgil before heading toward the door. However, before she reached it, though, Virgil saw her do a double take and walk over to the cameraman.  "That's the Sign of the Cyborg!" Camilla said, pointing to a symbol on the guy's T-shirt.  "You're a Coal Knightley fan?" he responded before they were deep in conversation about Coal Knightley's books which Virgil chuckled at.  Meanwhile, Virgil and Roman went over to talk to Serena, which was when the reporter grabbed Virgil's hand and shook it. As she did, she peered down at hi's fingers. "Interesting choice of nail polish," she said, raising her other hand and signaling her cameraman to come closer. He was too busy talking to Camilla to notice, so Serena smiled at Ivy in a plastic way and waved her free hand more frantically. Finally she snapped, "Martin!"

"Sorry!" Martin the cameraman said, rushing over as Camilla left the room. Serena huffed and let go of Virgil’s hand at last. She looked at him and Roman intensely. "You two must be friends with Garrick Stephens."

Virgil let out a loud deep sigh, “is this because we wear black clothes?” he asked with a strained smile.

Serena Star nodded. "Exactly."

"You mean you agree with stereotypes?" Virgil asked with a frown and a curious little tilt of his head blinking owilishly like Patton had shown him.

"What?" Serena Star spluttered, ”no! Of course not."  "Thank goodness," Virgil said, "because Principal Whitehead always says that a great reporter is never swayed by prejudice." He finished with a half smile at the principal over Serena Star's shoulder.  "That I do!" Principal Whitehead confirmed cheerfully.  "I couldn't agree more," Serena said stiffly, glancing uncomfortably toward the camera. She changed the subject. "So where do you kids hang out?"  "The diner," Roman told her with a shrug as he pulled out a mirror and played with his hair.

"Which diner?" Serena Star asked immediately.

"We like the Meat & Greet," Virgil replied.

"Is that the one that's decorated like a meat locker?" Serena Star said.

Virgil fidgets and hums, “I like Mister Smoothie,” he lies.

 "Me, too," Roman chimed in quickly.

Serena Star paused. "So you two don't know Garrick Stephens?"

Roman and Virgil didn't say anything.

"And you don't know anything about him or his friends?" Serena pressed on.

"Everyone calls them the Beasts," Toby piped up from a few feet away. Virgil hadn't even realized he was still there and mentally cursed at not checking the room first.

Serena Star nodded at him encouragingly, and Toby went on. "They're always playing practical jokes and things. Several weeks ago, they dragged me to a party at Virgil's house, even though they knew I wasn't invited. Although, I don't think they were invited either, but I wasn't sure.”

Virgil’s eyes widened before he cringed. Serena turned to look at him,"you invited Garrick Stephens to a party?"

"Lots of people were invited, I can’t remember who was invited really,” Virgil said with a small nervous smile.

"But not Toby, who you work with closely on the school paper?" Serena said pointedly with a raised eyebrow at the goth boy. 

Virgil shrugged helplessly. 

Serena Star turned back to Toby. "What else can you tell me about Garrick and his friends?"

"I think they're into heavy metal," Toby said, "although that might just be their T-shirts. And they're always saying weird things, like `bloodsucker' this and `bloodsucker' that." 

Virgil's mouth went dry and his stomach felt as if there were bats fluttering around it.

"Bloodsucker?" Serena's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Toby replied.

Virgil wanted to really scream and beat up Garrick Stephens so bad.

1/?

Tag: @gothfoxx