#not only did they offer bets on the trial with ''money back if he walks'' (AS IF REEVA STEENKAMP WASNT BRUTALLY KILLED)

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

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[evita-shelby]

Tie Your Heart to Mine

Chapter 16

Cw: mentions of the holocaust occuring, some minor slut shaming and use of an ethnic slur towards the end and mentions of sex

Gif by @sibirr

The war doesn’t catch them off guard.

Everything had been prepared and now they’d see how far this head start gets them. The two months they got have the factories performing better than the rest who’ve only just switched gears.

Their warehouses were filled to the brim, the wages and hours allowed the staff to live comfortably and save some for the next five years.

1945, a year longer than the Great War and yet the casualties and damage of it will be a drop in a bucket compared to this Second World War.

12 million dead, none of them soldiers.

It filled her with dread to know they couldn’t’ stop it. While they know what happens, fate decides what you can and can not change. All they can do is use their foresight to change what little they can and hope it makes a difference.

Tom had been arrested two weeks ago and put in remand at Strangeways as a category B criminal. He’d gone to have breakfast at home and the police had come to charge him for illegal gambling, and because he is as slippery as an eel, he was put in a prison cell until his trial.

Dia had tried to get him out, but the Sergeant was not feeling like accepting her bail money even after she conjured a real betting license to prove he had done no crimes.

They knew what they wanted him to do, they needed young men who cannot say no to enlisting because the army has no chance in hell of gaining those numbers overnight.

“He left his coat at my place, bought him a fresh pack of cigarettes because I know that’s the first thing he’ll ask for.” Diane said when she showed up at the Bennett’s doorstep with Tom’s overcoat.

“Tom’s lucky to have you looking after him, Diane.” Douglas speaks with approval in his voice and Diane wonders if the wariness he initially had has finally left.

Oh he’s going to hate her when Tom joins the navy, the witch thinks as she muttered thanks and offered to drive them to the prison.

“How did your audition go, I tried to ask Connie, but she was busy with Eddie and I didn’t want to interrupt.” Diane asked wisely leaving the word ENSA out of her mouth as they wait for Tom outside the prison.

“Good, the people said we were great and they’d be in touch.” Lois said knowing her dad won’t try and say anything since they’re in public and in company.

“If you don’t get in, my mom still needs a singer for her charity dinner next week. You’d be helping drive the donations for the refugees coming from Europe and all expenses would be paid for by the Shelby Foundation.” Diane suggested hoping she would mention ENSA on her own.

Douglas didn’t approve of it, but Lois would have to rip of the Band-Aid sooner or late. Diane had suggested they do it on the drive here, Douglas wouldn’t jump out of a moving car to avoid having that conversation with his daughter.

Like how Charlie did when he was approved for pilot training two weeks ago. Their parents had been terrified for him and yet no matter how much their mom claimed she’d kill herself; she never opened the car door.

“We auditioned for ENSA, dad. The recruiter said we were surely getting a call back.” Lois gets the memo and spills it.

Douglas keeps on walking and pretending he hasn’t heard her.

“They go away and entertain the troops.” The young singer adds as if her dad wouldn’t have known what it was.

“Yeah, I know what they do.” Her dad looked out ashen and clenched his jaw to hide his anger and fear and all that clinging to him like a coat. “I just wondered why Connie had you auditioning for them. Knowing that you can't do it, like.”

Douglas needed Lois home; he was not well enough to handle being on his own. Or so he thinks.

“Well, I was thinking about that and...” Lois paused and tried to gently remind him that she is twenty-one, “I was thinking, you know, why not?”

“Why not?” Douglas scoffed and lost most of his argument when they found Tom waiting for them with that carefree attitude of his. “Here’s one good reason why not, right here.”

“Either of you started to smoke? I'm dying for a fag.” Despite Tom smelling exactly like two weeks in a damp prison cell, Diane greets her boyfriend with a kiss at the edge of his mouth --- his dad and some prison guards were there--- only for him to pull her in a tight embrace and gave her what he called a real kiss.

“Coat pocket, got you a fresh pack after finishing yours last week at my parent’s house.” Diane answers as he takes off his dirty shirt and sweater and Lois hands him his clean shirt.

“See, she didn’t forget to bring my overcoat, Loo.” Tom says trying to lighten the mood only to get a glare from his sister. “I'm joking.”

He amends and then adds as he lights his first cigarette of the day. “I smell like a wet dog.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” His sister chuckled knowing Tom’s news was going to make their dad forget Lois plans on accepting that offer by ENSA.

“When are you in court, then?” his dad asked bracing for the worst. Everyone was aware that most were given a choice, jail or army. Since they wish to make an example of Tom, who knows what they’ll do to make him enlist and have the Germans deal with those they viewed as a lost cause.

 “I'm not.” Tom changed into his clean shirt and began to do up the buttons. He walks faster too, whatever he’s going to say next is enough to make him nervous.

 “You've been on remand for two weeks. They must have charged you with something.” His dad notes his nerves with suspicion. Of course he would, he’s his father, he’d know the moment something wasn’t right with his son just as her dad does with her.

“They were going to. But then I said I'd join up.” Tom can’t even look at them because Diane and his sister know the next words that leave his mouth are gonna be lies.

“The Army?” Douglas tried to hide his fears letting his anger cover the words he said and his children pretend they couldn’t hear it. “No, you'd be better off in there.”

Because there you would be safe.

“I won't actually be joining up, Dad. I'm a conscientious objector.” Tom looked briefly over his shoulder with that mischievous look about him, selling his lie so well Douglas can’t help but buy it.

“Since when?” there is a look of pride in Douglas’ face as he asks his son, believing the lie because maybe this time it will be true. A heartbreaking thing, if you ask Diane.

“About half an hour ago?” Tom looked forward again, his smile dropping because it pains him to see that hopeful look in his dad’s eye.

“I'll get you some leaflets, then.”

“I’ve been thinking about getting my own place.” Diane said once they arrived at her lodgings. After this he’d go to the recruitment office and disappoint his old man even further. He only needed a quick bath, a good fuck and his clean sweater she’d stolen a night or two ago. His bird loved wearing his shirts and he liked the way she looked wearing only that in the mornings before he left out the door.

Then once he and his dad get into another argument at home, he’ll come back here through the window ---Mrs. Johnson still refuses to just let him in to save face--- and spend the handful of nights he has left with Diane.

“Mrs. Johnson giving you trouble?” he asked as she unlocked her door. Once inside the blond plans to make up for those fourteen fucking days without her.

“No, but I have a feeling its time.” She shook her head and Tom’s reminded of those visions she told him about.

Maybe he’ll leave her with a limp and something else to remember him by when they ship him out to die. He’s got enough for a ring, a simple one because he knows she doesn’t care about shit like money or luxury.

Diane Elizabeth Bennett sounds far better than Diane Shelby, if you ask him.

“What makes you think that, Lady Di?” he teased and slammed the door behind them a little too forcefully.

Two fucking weeks without a cigarette, good food and worst of all, no Diane to keep him company. She’d visited, but save for a quick kiss and some handholding, there hadn’t been any relief for him.

His witch will have to take the day off tomorrow too unless she wants him to ruin her schedule and show her exactly how much he missed her those fourteen lonely nights.

“Gotten tired of having to sneak you in after hours, has me fretting over whether or not you’ll fall and break that pretty face of yours.” Her mismatched eyes light up with lust and all the dirty ideas a good girl in this respectable boarding house isn’t supposed to have.

But she’s not acting on it, Diane wants to talk about this and he’s in no fucking mood for it.

“I’m a good climber, why else do you think they put me up at Strangeways with all the scum of Manchester?” he was not fighting her on the idea, god knows he’s tired of playing Romeo and fucking Juliet in a place where at least a third of the ladies know the rumors about him are all true.

“No fence could keep you from me, bet the sea won’t either.” Diane said with a giggle as they went to the nearest comfortable surface to make up for lost time. “But I need my own house, Tom, I’m tired of having to keep quiet when we fuck.”

Even more reason, gotten so many complaints by the uptight schoolteacher next door who hates him for all the shit he pulled when he was her student. His dad had heard her refer to Diane as the gypsy slut and warned him about her during his last visit. Diane should have a house in mind, she wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t.

“If it were up to me, I’d move you into my bed at home. It’s going to be empty anyways, and Lois will need the company. With two posh boys to worry about, she’ll need someone to talk sense into her for me.” He suggests as he took of his shirt and watched her undo the buttons on her blouse as slowly as could.

“My poor, poor brother. He’s coming to visit tonight, only problem Harry’s going to be there too. But enough about our siblings, Tom, fourteen days and nights without you were absolute hell.” His witch said reminding him they had better things to focus on than their siblings’ love lives.

[crazedlunatic]

Bragging Rights

If you have time and ambition I would love to get a drabble with burt and Bob talking about the boys, you know the parents just bragging. Like around the dinner before the wedding?. I always come back for your story whenever life is hard for me. Thanks for sharing

“You may be one of the luckiest managers in the world to have gotten Blaine. I offered him a job setting up appointments in my garage.”

Bob, who had only met Burt a time or two, perked up when he saw Kurt’s father. “Blaine in a car garage? He did not.”

“I mean I was desperate one day and he made it two hours before saying he’d met his ‘straight guy quota’ for the day.” Burt laughed. “How’d you land him, though?”

“Oh, well, I hate having interns because they mess everything up on accident… but my cases are usually very sensitive… I kept refusing but I’d had a two-month stint in the hospital after a plaintiff tried to off me.”

“Two month stay?! In the hospital? Not recovering?”

“Yep. In the hospital.

“Wow. Cancer or something?” Burt looked surprised.

“Nope. I was walking my dog late at night. Murphy was 17 and he… didn’t survive. It was awful. Anyway, I was mostly high on Dilaudid back at work and turned, like, three interns down over the span of a few weeks… and then Blaine. Didn’t know he’d got the run around when I was out and his whole semester could have been fucked up because he fell through the cracks. I was annoyed to take him on but now I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“Did you know Kurt had a thing with his lung—”

“Yeah, I bet that was awful. I can’t imagine any of my kids going through that. Blaine talked about that a time or two… I’m almost fifty and I can’t even understand how all this violence somehow keeps getting worse. Who in the flying fuck cares what two other people do in bed?”

“Have met talked to the Thompsons?” Burt asked, gesturing towards the Thompsons and Changs talking together across the room.

“I don’t know who they are.” Bob admitted.

“But you know David and Wes?”

“Oh, they’re hilarious. We had them all over for dinner. My wife would probably have the three of them over all day if she could.” Burt gestured to where the two couples were talking. “Mr. Thompson is the one that kinda… got Blaine the help he needed. I don’t think the Changs were too involved in it.”

Bob nodded, making a mental note to introduce himself to them as Miles approached his chair and reached up.

“He is too cute.” Carole came over, smiling.

“You people keep saying that and he gets a bigger head.” Bob laughed as Miles tried to hide his face in his shoulder. “How about Kurt? I mean, Marc Jacobs is up there, right? None of my kids are famous… yet.”

“You’re famous enough.”

“Yep. And Kurt wears skirts.” Burt shrugged.

Miles rose his head up and then tilted it, looking at Bob confused. “Huh?”

“Yep.” Burt looked directly at Miles. “I think it’s silly but Kurt says it’s fashion… good fashion, I guess, since he makes a lot more money than me.”

“I’m at the point where I barely look at what I put on unless I have a trial, a meeting, or Sarah’s just laid something out that she prefers whatever that means. They all look the same.” Bob shrugged this time.

“Same at the garage. So how is Blaine doing as a lawyer?”

Bob gave him a look.

“Bad?”

“Of course not. He’s the hardest working lawyer in his age range the whole office has seen in years. Shit, sometimes he’ll still get my paperwork and start on it for me… although I’ve told him I’ve got it a million times.”

“Did you have it?” Burt looked amused.

“No.” Bob rolled his eyes as Sarah came back. He then added, “For someone whose parents were so awful he has such empathy.”

“How lucky are you two to get him as a son in law tomorrow?” Sarah smiled brightly.

“Oh, this has been years in the making. I knew that break wasn’t going to last. These boys are too predictable. Well, Blaine is. Kurt not so much.”

“You must not have heard about the trip to Canada.”

Burt, Carole, Sarah, and Bob looked up when a man stopped by.

“Canada?” Carole asked.

As if on cue, Blaine whipped around and made his way over causing the man to laugh.

“Yeah. On their break. They were going to Harbor Springs to stay at our beach house… but kept going to Canada.” Derek said. “I know because one of them went headfirst through a wall or something. They also smuggled a Canadian dog into the states… Although I imagine Blaine was probably hung over by the time that happened. He doesn’t handle his alcohol as well since everything at sixteen.”

“How do you get the stories, Derek?” Burt asked.

“Because they trust me to not say any of the stories to their bosses.” Derek laughed.

“Whoops. I heard nothing.” Bob said, looking amused as Blaine came up.

“You can’t sit at this table anymore, Bob.” Blaine said, mostly joking. “You and Sarah should go somewhere else.”

“You knew I was going to wander over here eventually.” Derek said. “To be fair, David and Wes were the troublemakers. Blaine usually got pulled into stuff… once the police were called on something that Wes did. The Chang’s went to pick them up—but Blaine had apparently been reading while the other two were trying to get into the Dalton building… even though it was summer.”

“Yeah, I was reading.” Blaine sighed. “Not quite an accomplice but I still got to see them get yelled at by you. Do we have to be doing this right now? Tonight?”

“Well, kid, Kurt doesn’t have good stories to share.” Burt said. “He doesn’t get into trouble… minus that tattoo. Which still isn’t even a good idea.”

“Speaking of, where is he?” Bob asked. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Uhm, I think he’s talking to a designer from London who was visiting Marc.” Blaine said distractedly as Dana came up, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Don’t worry, Blaine. I won’t tell your boss about your DUI.” Derek laughed.

Blaine’s eyes widened in horror and he said, “That… is my boss.”

“Oh crap.”

“Been there, known that.” Bob wasn’t fazed.

“Please. Please, if you’re able to get a hold of Wes’ dad… he’s got hilarious stories too.” Dana said to Burt and Bob. “Most of them aren’t even confidential. You won’t be sorry.”

“Can we not do that please?” Blaine asked before following Derek somewhere.

“I want to hear these stories.” Burt said eagerly.

“You should want to hear good stories. They’re accomplishments.” Carole sighed but clearly wasn’t upset.

“Kid could murder someone and I’d still take him to dessert before turning him in to the authorizes.” Burt shrugged, causing Bob to laugh. “Worst Kurt did was come home drunk and puke all over my favorite t-shirt. I somehow managed to get it out, too.”

“I can’t picture Kurt drunk.” Sarah said.

“It’s adorable.” Carole said. “It’s most adorable when they’re drunk together but I don’t think that’s happened since five summers ago.”

“With everything I’ve heard today, it sounds like Kurt and Blaine have had it pretty rough in different ways.” Bob sighed.

“It’s gotten better.” Burt reassured Bob. “I think doing so well at your firm has also done wonders for him. We’d talked ‘bout it a bit the other night. He admitted he doesn’t feel like a fraud anymore.”

Bob let out a loud laugh at that and then said, “Kurt’s never even doubted himself. To be honest I’m amazed he’s here at all. Both Kurt and Blaine have matured so much. It’s great when your kids achieve their dreams. sounds like Kurt’s going to be famous. I hope he’s ready for the spotlight.” Bob cringed.

“Think it’ll be bad for him?”

“I don’t know because it’s so different. To be honest I’ve landed in the hospital more times than I can count… but I also go against bad guys. Murders, sexual assault. I’m the lawyer that brought charges on Casey Anthony.”

“I knew you looked so familiar!” Burt gasped. “I knew it.”

“Yep.” Bob sighed. “Also the Boston Marathon bombing. They actually called me to the courthouse as soon as they realized what was happening so we could get ahead of the media chaos. That was awful having to talk to the families and stuff… also while making sure my pregnant wife was okay and my oldest two were safe in school because they went to school not too far away.”

“Casey Anthony. I remember they showed your opening and closing speeches. Pretty powerful.”

“Thanks. I wrote it ten minutes before the actual trial started.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t recommend that on Court TV.” Bob laughed.

“Now, you wouldn’t be signing Blaine up for anything like that?”

“Lawyers choose their own cases except in very special circumstances. I try to push him out of his comfort zone enough so he’ll have more experience but if he says, ‘Hey, I really don’t want to do this,’ then I’ll find someone to take it… but he hasn’t disappointed me yet… and I trust him to know his limits and I think he trusts me to give him solid advice.”

“How many people are you over?” Burt asked.

“Two hundred thirty…” Bob looked up at the ceiling. “Seven. Yeah, two thirty-seven between the two firms.”

“Gonna give that to Blaine one day?” Burt joked.

“He wouldn’t want it and I wouldn’t want to put that on him. Would you want to put Kurt over your garage?”

“Kid knows his way around a car fairly well.” Burt pointed towards where Kurt and Blaine were standing and talking with Brady and his boyfriend.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. He’d never admit it though.” Burt chuckled. “Blaine knows absolutely nothing about them. I constantly had to force him to get an oil check.”

“That sounds about right.” Bob laughed. “But I wouldn’t change him.”

“Same. Wouldn’t change Kurt either. I’m interested to see how both he and Kurt will be with babies. He was always scared with Melody at first.”

“Oh, he’s always been great with Miles! Blaine takes him to the park all of the time. Sometimes Wes’ daughter will go too. I bet he’s wanting practice.”

“You prefer being called Bob?”

Bob cringed and said, “Not really but it beats Dick which is what people called me when I first started in law. I’m named after my dad so I’ve mostly gone by Robbie outside of work.

“I get that. I get called Burt Reynolds.” Burt rolled his eyes as Melody ran over towards them. “I bet this is the ‘Mommy needs you’ which is—”

“Mommy is cold and wants food that hasn’t been sitting outside.” Bob finished.

“It was great talking to you. We’ll have to talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Definitely.” Bob promised. “See you soon.”

[thevoidscreams]

ok, so can i request quentin,yui, and felix with a survivor s/o! that’s a killers ex? like they’ll be in a chase together then the s/o and killer will stop and talk shit for 30 minutes while everyone else works on gens. or even worse if they are friends with ex (friends is pushing it, they’re on good terms because they’re scared for their frickin life), and will get along with killer during the trial and try to sacerfice them last. it can be any format, whatever works for you! have a great day/night! ❤️

(Sorry about any spelling or grammatical errors. Also the wait.)

Quentin: 

It would be an understatement to say that you were the world to Quentin Smith. You were his go to pillar for support and he was yours. Life outside the realm had been hard but existence in the Entity’s realm was a whole over nightmare and it was one he couldn’t wake up from.

Despite all that, there was one good thing about this new nightmare, and that was that he got to spend it with you. 

New people arrived periodically, as did new killers, but none of that seemed to bother you. Quentin had heard about the new monsters all the time from other survivors. Knowing that soon enough it would be something that he’d have to face. So he did his best to prepare. Staying with you when the Entity allowed, being calmed by your presence.

He despaired of being put in trials with you, the thought of hearing your screams as you were hooked, or watching you get downed by a killer’s weapon, it was simply something he could not become accustomed to. He loved you after all and seeing you hurt, especially by freddy, was unbearable. So his heart grew heavy as the fog that rolled over the camp swallowed you as well, depositing you alongside himself, Ash and Claudette in the AutoHaven. Grasping your hand he pulled you closer. “Come on, let's stick together.” You didn’t argue, squeezing his hand and giving him a soft smile. 

That plan quickly went to absolute hell. The Entity’s unfortunate choice of killer this round made you want to pull your hair out.

Rin Yamaoka. 

You'd dated briefly during your time as an exchange student in Japan. She was so beautiful and You'd fallen for her so fast. But it became too difficult to hide the nature of your relationship from her family and her father just about lost his mind when he discovered the two of you alone in her room holding each other. The jerk didn't even have the decency to knock, just burst in right as you kissed her cheek.

His yelling was still ingrained in your mind. His harsh biting words and the way he roughly grabbed you and quite literally threw you out of his house. Rin begging and crying the whole time for him not to hurt you.

You weren't allowed back over to their place after that.

The relationship petered out despite your best efforts to keep it alive with secret meetings in the park at night.

You cried when Rin officially broke things off. It was at one of your secret  rendezvous, she kissed you one last time and told you that despite how her heart was so full of love for you that her parents disapproved and the students were starting to catch on. She didn't want that kind of ridicule to fall on you.

You remained close for the whole of your time studying in Japan. When you left she saw you off and you gave her one last hug. Then she was gone and you got on the plane and flew away, but you left your heart in Japan.

Seeing her now you were frozen, stuck in place as your mind flashed through all your memories together and the tragic news of her death. Tears streamed down your cheeks and fell heavy to the ground below.

Likewise she stood frozen in place just staring at your face. "Rin…" the sound of her name was heavy on your tongue but even heavier on your heart.

Slowly your hand lifted to reach for her so close you could almost feel the chill of her ghostly form.

Your body jolted as you were pulled away and forced into a run. The heat of the hand holding yours was so very unlike the chill of Rin's body. 

"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" Quentin gasped, panic dripping from every syllable.

"a long time ago." You whispered as you ran with your boyfriend, through the exit gate and far away from the phantom from your past.

Yui:

Yui was a tough nut to crack but when she finally opened up you found a sweet and very loving interior. She was everything you could want in a girlfriend. The others remarked on the relative ease with which you had gotten her to fall.

All of the other survivors took up a bet whether or not you could romance her before you had managed to get all the killers in a trial.

Turns out those betting on before were right on the money. At first you had thought it was fine to not have had to face all the creepy monsters this place had to offer. Turns out not knowing made things all that much harder, or rather, more awkward. 

Staring down Philip Ojomo was surreal to say the least.

Even as transformed as he was there was no doubt about it. The tall tree looking monster was your old boyfriend. To be honest he seemed just as lost for what to do about the situation as you.

"Uh… hi Philip." You waved a little, shyly almost and took a step forward. He shifted his feet as if to take a step back but stopped himself. "It sure has been a while huh?"

Your break up had been amiable, he was leaving to start a new job and your work was calling for you to leave as well, far away from the town with the junkyard and bloody car crusher that he had been called to. 

"May we talk?" The question was completely unorthodox, and probably not a good idea.

Sitting down to speak with a man meant to kill and sacrifice you to the Entity. But you asked him nonetheless.

To your surprise he did. He sat with you on the damp earth and you both spoke for a long time, until the exit gates opened and you had to leave.

He offered you his hand cordially, and you accepted it happily.

At long last you had managed to catch up and had learned about what happened to each other. His story saddened you but it was good to finally know. 

When you told Yui about it she was more worried than you'd ever seen her outside the trials. She drilled you for all the details about what happened. Only stopping when you managed to asure her that you weren't hurt.

But then her face took on a look you had never seen before. She look uncertain and almost insecure.

"You aren't still love in love with him are you?"

The question left you floored.

"What?" You couldn't help but laugh. "No Yui I love you. My feelings for him have long since passed. I promise."

You kissed her hard and the tension melted from her shoulders as she kissed back.

"Good," she said when she pulled away, "because I don't plan on sharing you." 

Felix:

"For fuck's sake! Chase someone else for once!" You shouted over your shoulder. 

Ghostface apparently didn't care about doing anything for the sake of fuck because he didn't ,infact, stop chasing you.

You heard your name being shouted from the other side of the map. Felix was helping Meg off a hook. He was calling out to you. "Just a bit longer, we're almost done."

You nodded and pumped your legs harder. Hopping a pallet you laughed as Ghostface swore behind you. "Sorry Danny guess you just can't keep up…. Like always."

"Just you wait sweetheart. Once I get my hands on you..." He growled as he crushed the pallet with a few heavy stomps.

"I don't think I have much to be worried about." You laughed.

"Oh yeah?" He asked.

"Yeah. I mean if you're as bad at killing as you were in bed then I'm gonna get out of here scot free." You cackled.

"EXCUSE YOU!?" His mask may not have been able to change but the rest of his body said it all. He was both offended and pissed.

"You take that back this instant you know damn well that that isn't true I was always…" he was absolutely raving behind you. Going on and on about how he had been attentive and how he always made you cum and on and on.

The last generator popped and you wooped happily. 

"Oh you little fucker." Danny shouted as you made for the gate. "That is what I was!" You called back.

"I will hook your ass don't think I won't!" 

He never got the chance as you dashed past the escape gate and out into the field beyond to join your loving boyfriend. "You okay?" Felix asked, taking your hand as you both slowed, nearing the survivors' camp.

"Yes I'm okay. Are you okay? I know he got a few hits in during the match."

His smile was warm and reassuring. "Yes I'm okay. Cluadette had a good med kit."

You leaned up to peck his cheek. "Good." You walked with him hand in hand into the camp and forgot about anything that wasn't being in his arms.

[secretshinigami]

Beyond Birthday's Day Off

Author: @ironblowtorch​ For: @pinkmalus Pairings/Characters: Beyond Birthday, A, L  Rating/Warnings: Mature- Mentions of death and grief  Prompt: Beyond Birthday’s Day Off  Author’s notes: I really wish I had thought of a more creative title but that’s exactly what the fic is!! <3 I hope you enjoy, the idea was that B is trying to figure out his next steps in life after leaving whammys and he finds himself inspired to start his lifestyle as a killer! :3 

Beyond Birthday had never been this alone in his life. 

  Well… no, that wasn’t exactly true. He was an orphan after all. He had spent his very early days alone, cold, seeing the world in red and numbers. He doesn’t remember much of his time before Whammy’s at all, and he curses the fact that his so-called genius mind never remembered the names above his parent’s head’s.  If he actually thought hard about it, maybe he had always been alone, and now was no different. He did name himself, after all. A name so ridiculous there was no way anyone could have one like it, that was until the nicknames ‘B’, or worse “Backup” became his normal. Yeah… he definitely has been alone all along. 

The saltly wind that suddenly smacked against his face brought him back to the present, reminding him that he was actually alone on the beach, as well as alone in life. He had just  arrived in Los Angeles only hours after sneaking onto a mail plane from London.  Unfortunately that was as far as his plan had taken him… he still had to sort out a place to sleep, food… and most importantly his revenge on L. 

  In all truth, he felt exhausted and overwhelmed. He was happy when he arrived to find himself so close to the ocean, a sight he’d never seen after a lifetime in the orphanage.  If he let his mind drift to Whammy’s or any of the… events that happened this week he wouldn’t be able to keep it together much longer. And he needed to focus on his survival for now. Some genius he was! No plan, no future, no identity… no A… 

  B suddenly threw sand into the water with a shout. He needed to stop thinking. Turning away from the sunset, he started to make his way up the animal path he found hidden under the pier towards the beach. Instantly numbers and names started to swirl around him as he found himself lost in the crowds of people headed towards the water. With no direction in mind, he kept to the edge of the sidewalk with his hands tucked into his jeans. Unfortunately for himself, the only clothes he was able to smuggle with him were L’s standard of a white shirt and blue jeans. At least he managed some flip flops for himself. 

  Even with his California acceptable footwear he stuck out like a sore thumb here. Why didn’t training to become the next greatest detective include social skills? Maybe that takes away your deductive reasoning, like sitting normal, or eating a meal without sugar.  

  Beyond sighed heavily and shook his head at an attempt to clear his thoughts again. This was no good… he needed to find something to distract him… with no money it would be pointless to try and go into a store. He could try to steal, but he really wasn’t familiar with America yet… maybe his best bet was to look for someone whose time was running short… Perhaps he could crash in a dead man’s home for a few days? 

He had been walking with his head down for so long that when he turned the corner and looked up he was greeted with the movie worthy view of the Hollywood sign! In all honesty, he was less impressed than he thought he’d be. But it did give him the great idea of something to do… he could go sightseeing! 

  Truthfully, he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had ever done something just because he thought it would be fun. Most of his life he was just mimicking L, or studying old cases and autopsies, or cheering up A… He deserved a day off! Beyond laughed to himself as he watched the sun start to disappear behind the rolling hills. Yeah, a day off from thinking about L would be long over-due.

  ~~~

  The next day he awoke with a smile on his face, excited for the day ahead for the first time.  

  The night before he had managed to find a public library and used the computers and references to plan his entire next day! He told himself he would figure out food and shelter later, because for now he just wanted more excitement in his life. He wanted to do something just for him. 

  So his first stop at 11am was to visit the famous museum of death on Hollywood Ave! He stumbled upon the poster on a bulletin board in one of the seating areas, and felt like it was destiny. The museum held exhibits of past serial killer trials, autopsies from various diseases, endless animal taxidermy, and plenty of bones and weapons! It was perfect! 

Beyond always felt that when looking at crimes as the detective, you aren’t focusing on the corpses or criminals often at all… it’s more about solving and deductions and justice… blah blah blah. Beyond thought crime and life meant more than all that. Death and life coexisted all the time, he could see it for himself with his own eyes. It had only been a week now since A had died, and for every second leading up to the moment Beyond saw his number drop to zero, they were together. Before it happened, there was no way for him to guess what zero would mean. Maybe a part of him knew, but… it wasn’t real until it was. 

  He felt like he needed to go to this museum as a way to place the grief that was holding onto him somewhere else for a while. Seeing the person you’re closest to die and knowing it… it was too much for him. 

  But at the same time he felt secure in his understanding and knowledge of criminal behavior… in fact his own heart was warming up to the idea of becoming one himself. So the museum felt like a great bridge from his past life towards his new one! His next chapter would begin today, B just needed some inspiration first. 

  On his walk there, he happened to pass by a candy store window, surrounded by people watching through the glass as they watched a man spin taffy. Beyond found himself getting lost in the art of it all along with the crowd of people, so much so that he decided to pop inside. As he walked the aisles he recognized almost all the brands from years of sitting behind L during lectures as he ate enough of the stuff to kill a small child in one sitting. The truth was, B didn’t have much of a sweet tooth himself. He thought candy was kinda pointless, all it did was coat your teeth in sugar then disappear. L swore it made his mind work better, but he also swore a lot of his weirdest quirks did that for him, and Warati let him do whatever he wanted anyway… Yeah. So candy was just another thing B resented about the detective. 

  He didn’t hate all sugar though. He used to think fruit salad from the orphanage cafeteria was the best side they ever offered. Why only eat one fruit when you could eat them all together at once, in a bowl? Fruits were high in sugar content as well, but at least you got fiber and healthy carbs from them! 

  Beyond started to feel a bit guilty as he realized he was going to leave a candy store, a place that should bring any sane person joy upon arrival- in a worse mood than when we walked in. But he didn’t see any fruit or snack that interested him at all… he started back to the door just before he spotted a display of local creations the owner had featured. He walked up and found himself smiling wide as he picked up a jar of locally harvested strawberry jam. This would do! 

  ~~~

  By the time 11 rolled around, Beyond had already eaten his entire jar of jam as well as figured out his sleeping arrangements for at least a few days! Just behind the museum he found an abandoned shipping storage container he could even lock up at night. He finally felt like he was doing something right in his life, as everything fell into place for his new life. 

  Well, almost everything. He was really hoping he would find his last missing piece in his future in this museum. Maybe they were hiring? Maybe he’d find some inspiration for a different line of criminal detective work? Only one way for him to find out. 

The money he used from the wallet he pickpocketed at the bus stop was more than enough to cover his limited expenses for the next few days. The ticket for the museum was $13, which B felt was another sign he was going in the right direction! 

  As he walked through the gift shop and to the entrance, he noticed that it wasn’t crowded at all. The ticket lady did say it was strange to see someone, especially alone, on a Thursday… but he wasn’t complaining. She also warned him about the most explicit parts of the museum being a bit gruesome, and he made note of them to go to first. He could take as long as he needed without being distracted by lifespans! 

  He first wanted to check out the taxidermy animal room. Nothing too gory was in there and that was fine, he just had never seen taxidermy before! Or many animals. It was educational to learn that birds came in just about every size…

  After comparing himself to the stuffed angry badger he excitedly hurried to the serial killer exhibit. Purely out of curiosity!!! B just knew that was where the best autopsy photos were! Along with actual explanations of the killers’ stories… well, at least the ones that were solved. 

  As Beyond stepped into the room his excitement was suddenly matched with the new grief he had as a part of him. B longed to be sharing this moment with A… When they were kids…how many nights had they snuck to the library just to look at photos of other places? How many drawings did B slip into their backpack, how many smacks to the head did B get… all of those moments combined couldn’t have added up to much. But they had meant the world to Beyond… He didn’t feel alone in those moments, A was the only one who noticed him as someone other than a copy of L. Now A was gone forever. 

  Beyond stumbled back to sit on a nearby bench as his heart felt heavier by the second. He swallowed hard and gripped onto the edge of the seat, trying to ground himself. He blinked his eyes and then noticed the name Bertha Marie Smith with a shorter than average lifespan stumble up to him in a panic. 

  “Oh, sir?? This room can be a bit much for most people! It’s alright, we have an exit to the lobby this way…” she reached out to help him sit up-

  “Ha! What? N-No… excuse me…” B quickly stood up and moved away from her. “I’m fine. I just…. needed a moment. I’d like to finish my tour, if that’s quite alright.” He smiled and tipped his head and quickly turned the corner to avoid her. 

  Beyond Birthday was actually better than fine. In fact, before Bertha had come up, he had the most intense realization. 

  A was the only person who knew him as himself. A would be the only one to ever remember him. Who would remember him when he was gone? Who would remember A? 

  He looked around the walls scattered with information he had expert knowledge of. All these crimes… any crime really, he had been learning every strategy a killer could use since he could read. B had given up his chances of ever following the path they had planned  for him, that life was long gone. So what was his chance of ever being remembered now? Hardly above zero. He was sure even L himself wouldn’t attend the funeral if he passed tomorrow. 

  So B decided maybe he was meant to be at this museum after all. Maybe… he could pull something off that couldn’t even compare to any crime the world had seen. Something even L couldn’t get to the bottom of. 

  He could have his very own exhibit here, at the museum! Maybe a whole room dedicated just to his case, something so unsolvable, people would talk about it for centuries…. He could be the world’s greatest criminal instead. 

  Beyond smirked and turned to enter the next exhibit, excited for this next chapter. After all, he was alone now, and nothing could stop him from redeeming A now. 

One Day the Los Angels BB Murder Case would be written about somewhere, he just knew it.  

[calpops]

seven months | c.h.

Seven months of pregnancy leave you and Calum with a world of love, happiness, trials and tribulations and brings an anticipated yet completely unexpected moment.

1.8k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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The positive test result is confirmed and you and Calum feel like you’re floating. The first week of knowing that your family is growing comes with bliss. You can’t help but smile every time you see each other, Calum can’t keep his hands from settling around your waist or delicately resting on your stomach. Duke develops a newfound interest and need to be with you; his senses turning his protectiveness into overdrive. The first week blows by, little red slashes on the calendar keeping count of all the days it will take to greet the newest member of the family.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Calum says, standing in the kitchen where he cooks up dinner. You haven’t quite developed any crazy cravings yet but it doesn’t stop him from making anything you desire.

“Her?” You ask with an arched eyebrow and smirk.

“Just a guess,” he says with a shrug and smile then adds on, “the right one.”

“I don’t know, love, I think my money’s on a boy,” you reply and let your hand settle on your stomach. As much as Calum’s made it a habit you’ve done so tenfold. You’re not showing yet but the habit comes from comfort.

“You wanna make a bet?” Calum asks, stalling his cooking to eye you. You shift in the stool you’re sat on and question him with a look. “A girl and I win. A boy and you win.”

“What do you propose we win?” you question.

Calum lets out a breath, turns off the stove and moves the pan from the hot burner before rounding the counter to be by your side. He slides his hands around you, holds you, kisses your forehead and smiles. “Bragging rights. And first choice at names,” he proposes and piques your interest. He knows you have a list of names that have swirled through your mind since you got serious together. You have a feeling even if he wins he’ll still consider what you want and you know you’d do the same for him. It’s all in good fun.

“Alright, deal, but we won’t know for a while,” you remind him and seal the deal with a kiss.

More days pass and the complications of pregnancy start to kick in. Cravings and sickness, fatigue and changes plague you. Calum is there for you through it all. He offers comfort and support, takes as much time as he can to be with you, cater to your every whim and need. Though there are challenges both of you stay optimistic and anxious, nearly unable to wait for the day you get to hold the product of love in your arms. You often find yourself speaking of it all, making plans. You’ve yet to tell anyone but Calum’s parents and sister about the pregnancy, opting to keep it to yourselves until enough time has passed that risk margins slim and complications start to fade.

“We should probably tell the guys, at least,” Calum mumbles one night. You lay on your side and gaze at him under thin streams of moonlight coming in through the slats of the blinds.

“Yeah,” you agree, knowing they’re family and should know soon.

“I can tell them at the studio tomorrow,” Calum offers and you watch his eyes shoot up to the ceiling. “Unless you want to be there when they find out.”

You nod. “Oh I think I have to be. Luke did walk me down the aisle,” you remind with a slight giggle and light up when Calum laughs too.

“Stop by for lunch and we’ll tell them together?” Calum offers and you nod, making the plan and looking forward to the reactions to come.

The next day you show up to the studio where Calum greets you with lunch, a smile and a kiss to the cheek. He holds your hand up to where the rest of the band convenes with a shroud of take out boxes around them. You go in without a game plan in place to break the news but feel that might be best, you want telling them to come naturally. You’ve started to show just a touch but it’s easy enough to o disguise with Calum’s hoodie. None of the boys are the wiser or suspect anything when you walk in with Calum.

You get halfway through your meal, making small talk and trading banter, filling the guys in on marital life and the happiness you share when Ashton eyes your odd combo of food and makes a quip.

“I’d say it’s the pregnancy cravings but I’ve always liked this, actually,” you reply without thought and only realize what you’ve said when Ashton laughs but Michael and Calum stay silent and then Ashton falls into the quiet as well.

“Wait, what?” Ashton asks and stands as if the news is so striking he’s not sure what to do with himself. Neither you or Calum respond, the lack of game plan not readying you for the varying responses of shock. “Shut up, are you really pregnant or just trying to give me chest pain?”

Calum laughs and you blush around a giggle. Michael and Luke lean forward, rapt with interest at what answer might come from you two. You start by nodding but it’s not enough for Ashton to believe you and sit back down. He waits for words, waits for Calum to also confirm and when the chorus of confirmation and explanation falls from the two of you he breaks into a grin and finally joins Luke and Michael back on the sofa.

“I really didn’t think Calum would be the first,” Michael muses, hands folded together under his chin, you can see the happiness in his eyes and the unrelenting tilt of his lips.

“The first to have a kid?” Calum asks and throws his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

“The first to find love, get married, have a kid, all of it,” Michael clarifies with fondness in his tone. “I’m happy for you,” he adds on and flickers his eyes from Calum to you, making it known he means both of you.

Luke joins in on the sentiment and congratulations, pulls you into a hug and promises he’ll be there whenever you need him, also mentions that he’s already vying for the position of favorite uncle.

“Does anyone else know?” Luke asks after.

“Just my parents and Mali,” Calum answers. “We want to keep it as private as possible for as long as possible.”

You and Calum are no strangers to privacy in your relationship. You’d kept your entire relationship a secret from the public for over a year before an accidental slip of paparazzi outed you, hate swirled and Calum took a stand to tell the world he loves you. Since then you’ve gone back under the radar, preferring to keep to yourselves. Keeping your pregnancy quiet feels only natural. You know there will come a time when it can’t be hidden, but in the meantime you’re going to enjoy every last minute of privacy and solace that you can.

You slowly break the news to other close friends as the weeks go on. It’s over dinner that Calum broaches the subject of making a public announcement. You know it’s time, you’re showing and the probability of being spotted and found out increases day by day. You nod in agreement at his words, how carefully he’s thought it through and what steps he wants to take to do it. A simple instagram post, a simple caption and the comments turned off. You agree and watch over Calum’s shoulder while he scrolls through near endless photos of you, you and him, all of the baby items you’ve obtained over the five months of the pregnancy. He finally decides on a simple photo of his hands on your bump and captions it with your due date and a heart. He posts it so the world knows but you keep your world inside the walls of your home and the love between the two of you.

You spend the next couple of months in an excited bliss. All of your appointments and classes go well. You both decide to be surprised by the gender, still waiting on your bet, still biding time on choosing a name. Calum always says you’ll know when you finally meet her—sticking to his guns about your baby being a daughter. You’ve bought almost everything for the nursery but have yet to get them all put together. The boxes leave a reminder of excitement and fondness in you every time you pass by the door. Habits begin to form as you get ready for the baby to come. Calum sings to your bump, talks to you and the baby, cradles you and speaks of the future so often and vividly you can nearly see it. Everything builds hope in your heart.

***

Calum’s at the studio late one night, texting you, promising you he’s trying to get home as soon as he can when the first sign occurs. Immediately and instinctively you know. You fumble with your phone and dial Calum’s number. It rings only once before he answers and you cut off his greeting.

“It’s happening,” you breathe out.

“Sweetheart, you’re barely seven months, are you sure it’s not Braxton-Hicks?” Calum asks, automatically knowing what you mean, concern is in his tone but the drone of background noise over the phone cuts through.

You nod, tears in your eyes, knowing he can’t see you and then manage to get out a cracked ‘yes’. It suddenly feels like the world you’ve been living in is moving too fast. It’s happening too soon and instead of an anticipated and joyous occasion you’re bombarded by a time unexpected and only worries following. You know complications exist with premature birth and they rattle through your brain and instill fear into you when all you want to be feeling is happiness.

Calum doesn’t hesitate when he knows you’re certain. “Mali’s closer, she’ll bring you to the hospital and I’ll meet you, okay? Ash will call her, just breathe, it’s gonna be okay.”

You want to believe him, have always been able to put your faith into his words. But this is out of his control.

“I’m scared,” you confide, voice small and shaking with the two words.

“Stay on the phone with me. I’m right here,” he soothes. “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeats and now you wonder if it’s for you or to convince himself, knowing that realizations of the situation have caught up with him. Noting the tiniest hint of fear in his voice.

You hold onto his words, the sentiment, the sound of his voice as he tries calming you. He stays on the phone with you as Mali shows up, through the car rides that separate you and only hangs up when he sees you being wheeled into the check in desk. He strides for you, takes your hand in his and repeats words that have become a mantra.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You try to believe him as your world spins on and you’re powerless to the future. You don’t let go of his hand or his hope.

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[hedgiwithapen]

How about the Leverage Crew arriving in Central City in time for the that time Barry got accused of murdering DeVoe. Basically, Leverage Crew (Classic or Redeption is your choice) meddling in that plan. Because screw DeVoe. Can be in the same universe as The Central City job, or a brand new AU; your choice.

this one Long The courthouse was packed when a sleek black van pulled up to a loading zone. Nathan Ford turned from the passenger seat. “You all know the play?” “Mm, yup,” Parker said, clipping a badge to her blazer pocket. “The Boston skip.” “It’s not the Boston Skip,” Hardison snapped, fussing with his tie.. “You’re just grumpy because you have to play the lawyer again.” Eliot smirked. “Hey, you said only if it comes to a cross examine, I did my job, if you all do your jobs right and it doesn’t come to that,” Hardison’s voice pitched upwards. “If?” Sophie put on the emergency break. “If? Hardison, I’m hurt.” “Soph,” Nate sighed. “Let it go.” “For now. We’re having words later,” Sophie insisted. “Can we just get this over with?” Eliot asked, maneuvering to take the driver’s seat. “ you know I don’t like us splitting up like this.” “It’ll only be for a bit,” Parker said, squeezing his hand. “ We’ll be fine.” They left the van in twos, first Parker and hardison, briefcase and extraneous computer in hand, and a minute or two later Sophie and Nate followed-- and Nate with a plain folder tucked under his arm. Eliot drove in the direction of the police station, ready for the next phase of the plan. They hadn’t exactly called ahead, but that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Cisco Ramon was the first to spot them. He goggled a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Hardison approached the bench where Team Flash had congregated. Hardison smiled, knowing the prosecutor was watching. “I came to offer my services,” he said, sending a quick text with a thought. “ Where is Ms Horton?” “Here,” the short woman said, her eyes cutting between the two as Cisco checked his phone. “ Who are you? Cisco, who is--” Cisco looked up from the message--you didn’t see us coming?-- and relaxed slightly for the first time in weeks. “I’m part of Mr. Allen’s legal team,” Hardison smiled wide. “He’s ok, Cecile,” Cisco vouched. “ He and his, uh, coworkers have helped us in the past. With Z--wait, that was before you. Um.” “My firm helped get Henry Allen some money, after that unfortunate mess. And we’re here to see justice through again.” He hesitated. “ Or pick up where it leaves off,” he said under his breath. Cecile took in a sharp breath. “When did we hire you?” “Uh--” “Cecile, it’s really ok,” Caitlin joined the cluster. “They know about STAR. And apparently about the recent… developments.” “You think we don’t keep tabs on your crazy city? Now, Ms. Horton, as your co-lawyer, we need to discuss strategy. I’ve got some character witnesses I’d like to introduce, some crucial evidence that needs to be submitted, is there an office we might use?” He steered her away, nodding to Parker, deep in conversation with the prosecutor.

“You let that jerk stick around?” Iris jumped when she heard the voice in her ear. Turning she sighed with recognition. “ Lilli--Sophie?” “In the flesh.” She smiled. “I can’t stay long, but Eliot wanted me to ask.” Iris sighed. “If it’s Eliot asking, I guess you mean Harry. He’s been a lot better since Eliot kicked his ass, that’s for sure. And he has been helpful.” “I’m sure,” Sophie sounded anything but sure. “Listen, we’ve got this pretty well handled, but you and your friends may wish to be ready in case of reprisals. Have you upgraded security lately?” “Cisco’s worked on it,” Iris confirmed. “Good. Hardison would love to take a look, later. We’re probably going to be in the area, we’ve had word something’s fishy at that prison of yours.” When Iris opened her mouth Sophie shook her head. “Iron Heights. Point is, we’ll be around should you need anything.” “Thank you for the offer,” Iris said. She shook her head. “ These people are smart, Sophie. Dangerous.” “Not compared to my team,” Sophie smiled. “Save your worry. Look, see? Hardison’s in place, and Parker’s in the wings. I’ve got to go take care of my part. If you see your husband, let him know, will you?” “I-- sure,” Iris said, and she watched as Sophie stood and walked into a crowd. An entirely different person made her way past a bailiff and into the Juror’s box, leaning over to the man beside her and nodding in the direction of the door Barry Allen had just been escorted through. As Iris stood to take his hand across the gap between his seat and the benches, Sophie gave a little nod to the two of them. “It is strange,” the man said. “But I don’t think we’re meant to discuss the case until we’re in the back.” “Of course not,” Sophie said. “I was just thinking about it, is all. If it were a scene in a mystery novel, I’d call it too obvious.” “You do have a point,” the man agreed. “I’m actually a novelist myself.” “You don’t say,” Sophie smiled. “Classic red herring, am I right? And what a story. Two men in the same family accused of nearly identical murders…” She tapped her com, giving a quick signal. Nate was up. “Ah, a quick word?” Nate stepped away from the wall, flagging down Mrs. DeVoe and her companion. “No,” she snapped, putting on what Nate could see was a reasonably convincing mask of Grieving Widow. Convincing to a mark, maybe. But the Mako was right--you can’t con a conman. “Vultures, all of you.” “Oh, I’m not a reporter.” Nate said easily. He nodded to the tall man at Marlize’s Elbow. “Mr. DeVoe, I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He was pleased to see shock cross the face of Dominic Lanse. The man grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into an empty room. Mrs. DeVoe followed, locking it behind her. “Just so you are aware, there is video footage of you dragging me in here,” Nate said in his most helpful voice. “In case you decide to kill me here, probably not your smartest move.” he glanced around. “Private, though. Good.” He gave his signature infuriating grin. “Make this quick,” Clifford said in Dominic’s voice. “Court begins soon.” “Right, well, that’s going to be your problem.” Nate shrugged. “ Let’s skip the pleasantries. I know everything, about your plan at least. Your computer banks! Normal people couldn’t even find them, so you’ve got that going for you, though the security is lacking once you get past that, so B+. I am not Normal People. I have the best hacker in the multiverse, though, so,” he clicked his tongue in mock dismay, “like I said, my team and I --I’m sure you’re trying to think of who we are right now--know everything.” Marlize glanced at her silent watch, frowning. “Oh, no, no, I’m not a meta.” Nate shook his head. “But the thing is, I don’t have to be to destroy you.” “What--” “Again. I know everything, Thinker. Your basement prison, your hidden files, what you want with that satellite… you really shouldn’t have written everything down… twice even.” He fished a small book out of his pocket, and let them see the plain cover. Clifford’s eyes darkened. “That’s mine.” “Yeah, well, I also have the

multiverse’s greatest thief.” “Our home is under police protection and surveillance. There are officers--” “There right now, I’m aware.” Eliot Spencer, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand, flashed a badge at the pair of officers standing by a door. “Any trouble?” “Nope. She just left for the courthouse. Some work, huh? Just standing here.” “Hmm.“ Eliot agreed. “Though I guess if something did happen, the Flash would swoop in.” “Nine times out of ten,” the first officer agreed. “Or one of his buddies. “ “Maybe 8 times,” the second officer shrugged. “ You new?” “Just transferred from Keystone.” Eliot said. “Not so much nonsense there.” “I hear that. Good to have the backup though.” Eliot nodded. “ You do a walk through?” “Uh, no…. Like I said, no trouble, officer-- “Ted Crichton,” Eliot interrupted. “You haven’t walked through? What if someone’s in there, waiting to assault Mrs. DeVoe when she gets back?” “Well, uh, we don’t have a warrant--” “For crying out loud--” Eliot pulled a paper from his pocket. “See? Now let's go. You stay out here. Who has the back-- does no one have the back door? “ The officers hurried inside. “Don’t forget to check the closets,” Eliot called. -- “ Like I said. Best thief. Best hacker. Now, honestly--and you can run the numbers-- your best bet would be to cut your losses right here, right now. You’re already lying on the stand, so say you were coerced into implicating Mr. Allen--if you need someone to blame I do have a list of patsys that really need the jail time. You do that, put your little plan,” he waggled the book “ back in the box or write it up as the next dystopian best seller for High School English classes to dissect for decades to come, and you can walk away from this.” A laugh. “No one will believe anything you say. That book can’t be traced to me, and even if it could be, it doesn’t prove anything. So someone thinks I’m a supervillain. I’m dead. You have nothing that proves Mr. Allen innocent. You’re out of your mind, Mr. Ford.” “Oh good, you know who I am. Think a little harder.” “As threats go, it’s half baked,” Marlize challenged. “What are you going to do if we refuse? Break Allen out of jail so he can be a fugitive? He’d never go along with it. And the Flash can’t stop us.” “I’d run those numbers again, you’ve left out quite a few variables. But no.” “No?” “If you refuse, if you keep up your little game, lie on the stand, sell that sob story, maybe you're right and the Flash can’t stop you. But he doesn’t need to. I’ll destroy you.” “You.” It was not a question. “For someone claiming to be the smartest man in the world, I’m a bit worried about your memory. I said it already--I’m not here alone. But be my guest. Tell your lies. Right about now the Jury is thinking about what an embarrassment to the city Henry Allen’s trial was and how closely this resembles it… the similarities, the way the timelines don’t quite match up… “ “Really? You’re trying to convince the jury to ignore evidence and go with their hearts? A pathos appeal? That’s not going to work. There’s less than a 3% chance of that even ending in a mistrial, much less acquittal.” “I’m sure that’s what your numbers said,” Nate smiled yet again, this time sharklike. “Cute. I bet you think it’s difficult to get assigned jury duty. “ “It-- we checked all the names. We know--” “You know who they are, yes, yes. But you don’t know who we are. Another sloppy mistake. Now, the jury’s, you're right, not a total slam dunk. So, right now the prosecutor is getting word of some new evidence from a very well respected FBI agent about how helpful the Flash and Mr Allen have both been in assisting with a case against a known human trafficker--you know her, Ammunet Black. The one you bought your puppet from. FBI picked her up…mmm, ten minutes ago? And she had some very interesting things to say. You can guess what they were. Add to that the evidence--” “What evidence?” “The wire transfers between you and Ms. Black. In December and a few days ago. We didn’t even have to fake that first one, but even if the second

one looks a little fishy, the fact that--” “Nate, we got him,” crackled Eliot’s voice in his ear. “--the police just found a metahuman locked in your hall closet--Weeper, I think is what Ms. Black called him-- should make things clear. He wasn’t thrilled about having to stick around much longer but your basement is pretty hard for normal people to find so we had to nudge that a bit. But hey, you’re all for planting evidence. Anyways, court’s in ten minutes…. but the police will be arresting you in about three, if my math’s right-- care to check?-- so I can make this very quick. We have video of you threatening the Flash, holding him prisoner the same night as that wire transfer, proof of Dominic’s powers and sale--my hacker thanks you for all those cameras and bugs, by the way, made his job much easier-- and you add that all up and it sure looks like you got upset at the Flash and Allen for poking into your meta trafficking and decided a frame up was in order.” Nate hefted the folder, “and then there’s this.” “And what,” Marlize asked, shaking with rage, “ is that?” “A copy of files that will be delivered to the FBI, NSA and Dean of Husdson University if you don’t admit to the frame up.” Nate said, thumbing through them. “Proof that you, Mrs. DeVoe, fed information to certain entities across Africa and the Middle East where you were doing your research and aid work to assist in their terror attacks and human trafficking--ties in quite nicely to your work with Ammunet, if I do say so myself. And proof that the “late” Mr. DeVoe plagiarized his thesis, his dissertation, even the syllabi for his classes.” “Lies. No one will believe any of--” “Oh, it’s all very well forged. Except for the bit about the Syllabi. For shame.” Nate tutted. “And part of the dissertation. Can they take away a PH.d posthumously? Anyways, even if it wasn’t, do you really think that no one would believe a man who thinks that giving everyone on the planet late stage Alzheimer’s is going to solve famine and illness? What kind of legitimate history teacher doesn’t know about cholera or the effects of the agricultural revolution? Every lie has a kernel of truth to it.” Nate glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, that certainly was enlightening. And before you decide to simply kill me, run your little calculations with one more variable: Eliot Spencer.” DeVoe’s brow furrowed and what little color he had drained from his face. “ That’s what I thought. Three.. Two.. one.” Nate raised his voice. “ Help! I’m in here!” The door crashed from its hinges. “The Gloat is the best part,” Parker, FBI badge swinging, put an arm over Barry’s shoulders. He stood with Iris next to her and Eliot as the DeVoes were hauled away. “You know, I think I might have to agree,” Iris said, squeezing Barry’s hand. “Or second best, at least,” she added meaningfully. “So… what now?” Joe asked. “I mean, there’s still… the red tape, but… do we need to be worried? Don’t they still have--” “Oh, that sick chair and computer set up?” Hardison asked with a smirk. “I want it.” Harry announced. “When did you get here?” Hardison asked, affronted. -- Parker held up her badge as she pushed the crate up a ramp into Lucille. “Special Agent Hagen! Let me help you with that,” Agent McSweeten said, taking the dolley handle from her. Parker beamed, patting the side, careful not to dislodge the panel on the side. “Thanks!” -- “Anyways, you can’t just call dibs. You’re too late,” Hardison added, giving Parker a fistbump. “We stole it.”

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 2 

*FOR PART 1 CLICK HERE or SEE MASTERLIST*

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Talk of sexual favors, flirting, crack, humor, Solo Masturbation (M) (F).

Rating: 18 and over

Yoongi:

Yoongi sits at his computer browsing through his ‘SIO' page when a notification pops up. A new subscriber has signed up for a yearly membership but didn’t submit a request for their welcome gift. “Hmm, strange.” He clicks on the new subscriber’s user name ‘WildGoddess11'. He hums again. “OK wild Goddess, let’s get you set up shall we.” He shoots a private message to the user.

‘Hello WildGoddess11,

Welcome to my page. I hope you find everything you’re looking for here. I noticed however that you didn’t send in a request for your personal gift. Please be sure to choose from one of the two categories I work in and submit before midnight. I look forward to creating content for you.

All the best,

Gloss93'

Yoongi waits a moment to see if he gets a response. Just as he is about to sign off, his computer pings with a new message.

‘Hello Gloss93,

Thank you for the warm welcome. I imagine though, that you do this for all your customers. I know I was supposed to submit a request but honestly, I had a bit of an unconventional one. I was hoping you would accommodate me. I don’t normally surf these sites but you come highly recommended from a very close friend who says you are someone who is incredibly trustworthy. I’ll gladly pay extra. Please let me know if you’re interested. Thanks.

WildGoddess11'

Yoongi chuckles at the message. “Unconventional. What the hell does that mean?” He mumbles to himself. He hums again, sending a message back.

‘WildGoddess11,

I don’t normally take special request. I prefer to stay within the realm of what I normally offer. I am however, intrigued and willing to hear what you have to offer.

Gloss93’

He sits back in his chair, waiting, the anticipation killing him. He shakes his leg frantically, looking at his phone, then putting it down, then picking it up again. Finally, after what feels like forever, his notifications rings. He clicks it immediately.

‘Gloss,

I want, nay, need you to feed a darker side of me. Complete anonymity, 1000 dollars a month for sexual asks. Photos, videos, and phone calls. We don’t need to show our faces, since I can see that’s not your thing and honestly, I prefer that as well. I also ask that you not provide this service to any other clients. I can be a little jealous lol. Like I said you came highly recommended so I trust that we can work together. It won’t change my subscribing to your page if you say no. I understand if this isn’t for you. So, if you do say no, I am down to just submit a normal request. Let me know if you need time to think it over. Thanks.

WildGoddess'

Yoongi’s eyes widen as he reads and re-reads the message in front of him. He doesn’t know how to respond. He has never wanted to delve into this type of thing. Feeling confused, he picks up his phone and calls Hobi. “Hey, I need your advice.” “Sure. What’s up?” “I got a new subscriber today and they are making an unconventional request and I don’t know what to do because I mean, I’m intrigued. No one has ever come to me with something like this before.” “What was the request?” “Sexual asks. 1000 bucks a month.” “Get the fuck out of here! Are you serious? I didn’t think... I mean… I… that’s nuts!” Yoongi’s brow furrows. “Hobi, something I should know? Did you give out my code?” “Uh, no, it’s just that’s a lot of money, I was taken aback. You should just do it.” Yoongi sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get caught up in this type of shit.” “Look, you wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t thinking about it already. Just trust me, you won’t regret this.” Yoongi grunts in frustration. “I better not.” “I’m excited for you.” Yoongi chuckles at Hobi’s comment. “What does that mean Hobi?” “Uh…. nothing…. just that it’s cool you know. 1000 bucks, I don’t even make that much!” Yoongi decides not to question further, instead thinking about Y/N. “Hey, how did the gift go over with Y/N?” “Aw man, she thought it was a prank from me. She freaked! Then she comes out of her room wearing it! Anyway, great choice because she looks great in it.” “She put them on for you?!? What the fuck?” Yoongi whines. “Not for me. In spite of me. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” “Yeah alright.” Yoongi hangs up and types a response. “Here goes nothing.”

Y/N:

Your computer pings with a notification and you jump out of your bed and to your computer. It’s finally a response from Gloss.

‘WildGoddess11,

Let’s do this as a one-month trial period. Like I said before I don’t like to do this type of thing but I have to admit you are the first person to really pique my interest. I’ll allow you to submit me a special request and I’ll send it back to you via private messaging. I encourage you to review some of my past videos, perhaps it’ll motivate you. Happy hunting.

Gloss93'

You squeal, excited that he accepted your request. You had already been looking over his page, making yourself horny watching his hand kink videos and ASMR. He was hot and you had never even seen his face. You had already known exactly what you wanted to ask for. You bite you lip, typing your request.

‘Gloss,

Now that we are nice and established, let’s move past the niceties. I would like to request a dual hand kink/ASMR of you masturbating, I want to hear you moan my name while watching you grasp your sheets for me. Please send soon. My greedy little cunt can hardly contain herself. Also, please send me your information so I may transfer your extra funds. Happy stroking.

WildGoddess'

You bite your lip, excited to see what he has in store for you. “Y/N, I ordered Chinese. You hungry?” Hobi calls to you from behind the door. “Coming.” You respond, closing your laptop and walking out to have dinner with Hobi. “So, did you use that code I gave you?” Hobi ask. “Uh, yeah actually I did.” Hobi’s brows shoot up. “And, how did it go?” “I don’t know what you mean. It’s pretty basic honestly, although not having to pay the yearly membership frees up my funds. Who is this guy anyway? Why do I feel like you’re up to something?” Hobi shrugs. “No one special. Someone I know from the site. Trust that I always have your best interest in mind.” You nod. “Well, I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.” You inform him. He smiles wide, shoving food in his mouth. Your phone vibrates and you look to see a notification from ‘SIO'. You hop in excitement and click it to see a message from Gloss.

‘WildGoddess,

I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever read. I’m hard just imagining what your greedy little cunt looks like. You can send me money to my PayMo account, same username, Gloss93. I look forward to working with you. Look for me in your inbox soon enough. Goodnight.

Gloss'

“Good news?” Hobi wiggles his brows at you. “Shut up Hobi. Why don’t you explain to me why you bought that lingerie?” Hobi chews quickly. “Woah, woah, woah. That wasn’t me. I am not your secret admirer ok, I actually voted against you getting that gift.” Your eyes pop open. “Yoongi, that piece of shit!” “What,” Hobi chuckles nervously, “No, who said anything about Yoongi. I didn’t say anything about Yoongi.” Hobi turns pale, eating quickly. “You know Hoseok, you’re a terrible liar. I’m going to kill your friend.” “Come on Y/N, he really likes you. He may be a little, I don’t know, bad, with his approach but he has the best intentions. Give him a chance.” You roll your eyes. You did have a huge crush on him but giving in now would be bad. You just weren’t ready. “Hey, since you’re now a part of ‘SIO’ you wanna come to the annual meet and greet bash they throw?” “Hell no. Isn’t that just some orgy fest?” Hobi laughs loudly. “Well, it can be don’t get me wrong but it’s more so to gain more subscribers and get to know creators you already follow.” “Will Gloss be there? Like does he go?” Hobi’s eyes light up. “Gosh Y/N, you’ve only been subscribed an hour and already you’re addicted huh? He has that effect on people. It’s his voice, I think. Unfortunately, he doesn’t go to any events, he likes anonymity.” You pout a bit. “Well, then, no. I’m good thanks.” “Suit yourself.” You both finish dinner, helping each other clean up. You head off to your room, your phone vibrating. You look to see a notification from ‘SIO’, you plop onto your bed, hands shaking as you open the message.

‘WildGoddess,

This is my first time doing this so I hope it’s good. I must admit I rather enjoyed myself. I hope you will too. Again, welcome to my page. I look forward to working with you. Talk soon.

Gloss’

You grab your headphones, plug them into your phone, and click on the video attached to the note. The camera is pointed at what you imagine is his bed. The sheets are a crisp white. You swallow, your eyes frantically scanning your phone screen when his hand suddenly appears, gliding up the sheet, followed by strained sigh. You feel yourself strain a bit, trying to hear every little thing. Soon, you can hear the sounds of his stroking, the lurid fapping filling your ears, followed by his soft pants. The fingers on his left hand spread wide across the sheet. “Fuck, this feels so good.” You moan at the deep silky sound of his voice filling your right ear. He chuckles into the left ear and you feel a chill travel down your spine causing your back to arch. You focus heavily on the wet sounds filling his room and your ears. He’s stroking so fast now, his breath quickening, pants becoming more desperate. He is sure to move between mics, stimulating both of your ears.

You don’t know when but your hand has made its way into your panties and you whimper touching your swollen bud. “God, I hope you’re touching yourself,” He soon says into your left ear, “filling your tight little cunt up, pretending it’s me. I bet your pussy is so wet right now.” He sniffs into the right ear and you moan loudly into your room. “I bet that cunt smell delicious.” “Fuck!” You cry out, shoving two fingers into your clenching core. You begin to thrust in and out of yourself in conjunction with the delicious sounds of his stroking. He growls into your left ear. “I’m going to cum soon.” Moving to the right ear. “Is that what my greedy WildGoddess wants, my hot cum all over her?” “Yes, yes,” You pant, swirling circles around your bud before returning to your sopping hole, “Please come for me Gloss, please.” You watch as he grips the sheets hard, his veins bulging wildly from the top of his fist. His breath quickens and a relieved groan escapes his throat “Fuuuuuck!” He moans. His climax shooting from off camera onto his clenched fist. The sight causing your cunt to seize wildly around your fingers, your orgasm hits you in a hard crash. You cry his name into the room, your eyes tightly shut, only white bubbles floating in your vision. You soon open your eyes, coming down from your high, the sounds of him giggling gorgeously into the right mic. You look at your phone to see him release his messy fist from around his sheet. “Till next time my WildGoddess.” He declares, shutting the camera off.

Yoongi:

Yoongi rubs his eyes, exhausted from staying up late, hoping to hear from his “WildGoddess” about his video. She never replied, leaving him stuck in his own head all night, tossing and turning. “ICED AMERICANO.” The Barista shouts. Yoongi walks over grabbing his drink with a nod and heads over towards campus kicking himself for agreeing to meet Hobi this early. “Wow! You look like shit.” “Thanks, Hoseok. Not all of us can be a ray of sunshine like you.” “How was last night?” Hobi inquires, wiggling his brows. Yoongi shrugs. “What are you talking about?” “Oh, uh, nothing. Just seeing what you were up to.” Yoongi chuckles, sipping from his drink. “Nothing, I stood up all night, thinking about that goddamn subscriber. She never responded to her video.” Hobi looks at Yoongi with wide eyes. “You sent her a video?” “Yeah, like I do all my subscribers. A welcome video but hers was a little more tailor made if you will. Anyway, she never responded if she liked it or not. I guess I shouldn’t care. She would’ve complained if she didn’t like it.” Hobi nods, then tilts his head, then shrugs. “She liked it.” Yoongi eyes him suspiciously. “Yeah, I guess. Like they say, no news is good news.” “Hey, are you going to go to the Annual meet and greet for ‘SIO' this year.” Hobi asks. Yoongi scoff. “No, I never go to that shit.” “Well, maybe now that you got this mysterious stranger, you know, you would be more interested in it.” “No, we are keeping things anonymous. Just like I like it.” Yoongi clips.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m going to be going this year.” “You go every year Hoseok, nothing has changed.” Yoongi says. “So, did you happen to take any pictures of Y/N in her gift?” Yoongi asks now. Hobi laughs heartily. “I was in shock at how amazing she looked to be honest. I mean, her ass, AMAZING!” Hobi shakes his head. Yoongi groans, jealous that he wasn’t there to witness her in all her glory. “Why didn’t you drag her along with you today to collect your schedules and pay your school tab off.” “Honestly I don’t know how I can face her after last night.” Yoongi’s ears perk up. “Why? What happened?” Hobi freezes in place, “Uh because of the lingerie thing of course. Why? What did you think?” Yoongi licks his lips, watching Hobi shuffle into the office of the main building. “Hobi, you’re a terrible liar. Did something happen?” “No, of course not. Honestly, it was that. I’ve never seen her so, uh, nude. Yeah, that’s it.” He walks to the secretary at the front desk and asks to pays his student fees. “Cash please and may I have a receipt?” “Sure thing.” She takes his money and prints him a receipt. “Where to now? Breakfast?” Hobi turns to face Yoongi. “How about your place?” He drawls. Hobi chuckles nervously but nods.

Y/N:

You were a panting mess after your third time getting off to the video Gloss sent you. You had been happy when you heard Hobi leave this morning, knowing you could be as loud as you wanted to be. Now, however, you dropped down on your side unable to moved, your battered pussy throbbing, finally allowing your eyes to flutter shut. You feel the edge of your bed shift and you moan unhappily. “You look spent, one would assume you had company last night.” Your eyes pop open to find Yoongi smirking at you from the foot of your bed. You jump up suddenly, tucking your phone and headphones away. “What the fuck are you doing in my room Yoongi?” You seethe, watching him as he eyeballs everything in his surroundings.

“I brought you lunch. Thought you might be hungry.” “OK well, you don’t need to be in here for that so please go.” You wave him off. He smiles seductively, looking at your exposed legs, then up your oversized shirt to your face. “Do you always wear a garter to sleep?” He tilts his head to the side, biting his lip. You look down and quickly tuck the belt under your shirt. “Is that your business Min Yoongi?” He shrugs, dropping his eyes to the ground, bending forward with a suck of his teeth. “They look better with these on.” He whispers, licking his lips. You yank your thong from his fingers, and shove him away. He chuckles, getting up now and moving towards the door. “Has anyone ever told you that you are the most beautiful woman in the world?” “Get the fuck out Yoongi!! HOBI! Come get your friend.” He pouts at you and walks out of your room. You release a sigh, moaning into your hand as you feel your juices coat your cunt. “Fucking Min Yoongi.” You whisper to yourself.

Yoongi:

Yoongi hits refresh for what feels like a hundred times on his ‘SIO' account and nothing. He releases a sigh, whining when Hobi comes around and punches him in the arm. “What was that for?” “Why do you insist on torturing her?” Yoongi can’t help but smile. “She was still wearing the lingerie, well some of it anyhow. Did she have someone over last night? She looked…I don’t know. Satisfied.” Hobi scoffs and shakes his head nervously. “She hasn’t been with someone in a long time. Now please let’s eat.” “I mean you’d tell me, right? If I was wasting my time?” “Oh, so are we now admitting that we have feelings for her and are actively pursuing her?” Hobi snips. Yoongi shrugs. “I’ve always said I had feelings for her. I just never thought I was her type. Not being the point, I don’t want to get involved if she’s involved already.” Hobi shakes his head again. “She’s not. I’d tell you.”

Yoongi sighs in relief, standing straight when Y/N exits her room to join them. She is fully dressed now causing Yoongi to chuckle. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me you know. I am all for oversized shirts and no panties.” Yoongi comments. She flips him the bird and walks over to fridge for a beverage. She joins them at the table and they begin to dig into the food. Yoongi watches as Y/N pulls out her phone, stretching a bit as she types, trying to see who she could be texting. “Did you have company last night?” Yoongi inquires. She looks up from her phone at him and smirks. “And what if I did Yoongi?” He shrugs. “Then they are lucky.” She simply laughs but Yoongi feels the sting of jealousy at the thought. He watches as she looks down at her phone. “He would’ve had to crawl up the side of the building because I was right in the living room the whole night.” Hobi interjects. Yoongi’s phone buzzes suddenly and he pulls it out of his pocket. He sits up straight, seeing a notification from SIO.

‘Gloss,

My god! That may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Is it possible for me to think you are so fucking hot without me ever having seen your face? You may or may not have me sprung. I mean, if beating this pussy 3 times can be considered sprung…. what do you think? Sprung off you?

WildGoddess.’

Yoongi chuckles in shock at the message, looking up suddenly at Y/N. She munches away at her lunch and soon realization hits Yoongi. His heart races and he takes to writing a response to confirm his theory.

WildGoddess,

3 times huh? Someone must be spent today. I’m honored. You should be too; They say third time is the charm. I look forward to making all your filthy dreams come true. Sprung on you too?

Gloss.  

Yoongi hits send, waiting anxiously. Suddenly, Y/N’s phone buzzes and he feels the bile rise in his stomach. He shoots a look at Hobi who locks eyes with him in confusion. Yoongi gives him an angered look and Hobi’s face drops. Yoongi turns to face Y/N when he hears her giggle. “Thanks for lunch guys. I gotta go.” She walks off to her room staring at her phone. Once out of ear shot, Yoongi slams his fist on the table making Hobi jump. “What did you do Hoseok?” “I…. I don’t know what you mean?” “Don’t fuck with me. Is it her? The new user? Is it Y/N?” Hobi drops his fork, looking to her bedroom to ensure the door is closed. “She needed a distraction Yoongi.” Yoongi growls at Hobi’s confirmation, dropping his head in his hands. “I didn’t want to connect with her this way. We have to tell her.” Yoongi gets up and walks towards her room. “No, no, no,” Hobi almost shrieks, yanking Yoongi back to the table, “Look you said you like her. She likes you. She’s just scared ok. This is the perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to know one another without any pressure involved.” “No, only the pressure of a 1000-dollar payment every month.” “Ok, I didn’t anticipate that. Just don’t accept the money. She doesn’t know it’s you she’s talking to. Take her on some dates, then spill the beans but don’t do it now. She’ll kill us both!” “The longer I wait the worse this is Hobi. It’s betraying her trust.” “No, no. Look you’re getting caught up on semantics. I know her best ok. It’s better if she slowly comes out of her shell and this is the perfect way to do that. Trust me. I know what I am doing.” “If this goes south Hobi and believe me it will. I’m throwing you under the bus, better yet, driving it over you.” Yoongi declares in a huff, storming out of the apartment before he changes his mind.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Riddler

This was a series i wrote SO long ago and its time it saw the light. Hope it’s enjoyed. I had fun writing this one.

Warnings: SVU talks, SVU Crimes, talks of drugs and drink spiking.

WC: 1224

Enjoy x

You had been the ‘newbie’ at SVU for a while now. Everyone was stand offish with you at first, but after a few closed cases and nights out, you were one of them. Sonny was your partner, he and Amanda soon became your best friends in and out of work, while Fin and Liv were the parents keeping you all in line and out of trouble which with the 3 of you they had their hands full.

You had lost friends along the way to becoming a Detective, that worried you at first, most of them you had been friends with snice High School. But, they never accepted your work life and slowly stop inviting you to places and then all communication stopped, it was what it was.

You grew up in New Jersey and moved into Manhattan once you got the job at SVU, you didn’t want to be doing that commutate every day. You grew up in a big extended family of all boys, you were the only girl out of 13, and the only child to your parents. So you were pretty much a tom boy with a smart mouth, but also had a very kind and friendly nature. You did however know how to hold your own.

You had the best come backs and made most people laugh, expect one; ADA Rafael Barba. He always seemed less than impressed by you, but you could never put your finger on why. You weren’t sure if it was because your smart mouth put him in his place more than once or if it was because you would argue with him till he said yes to take on cases or agreed to get you warrants with very little evidence. It was a shame. As much as you loved winding him up, he was extremely handsome. You played with him a lot in your fantasies when you were alone in your room at night.

It was Halloween weekend, and Amanda had brought tickets for you both to a Halloween party at a bar up town.

“It’s a girl’s night Carisi”

“Yeah and? An invite would have been nice”

“Next time Sonny, Promise.” You smiled at him

Halloween fell on a Friday. Amanda offered for you to get ready at her place and stay the night. You guys had put in for the night off, so Fin and Sonny were working the night shift. You guys arrived back at Amanda’s, she put on some music and you showered and started to get ready.

“Why do you think Barba doesn’t like me?”

“I’ am sure he likes you, he is just wound up too tight”

“It’s more than that Amanda” you looked over at her.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, just an observation”

“You like him” she smirked at you.

“What-no way” your cheeks went bright red.

--

You guys arrived at the club, and were dancing and drinking having a great time. You were both standing at the bar waiting to be served when you saw the bar tender drop something small and white in a cup of drink and then handed it to a girl standing next to you. You reached for the cup and snatched it out the girl’s hands,

“HEY” she yelled at you

“Don’t drink that” you frowned at her.

Amanda caught on to what was going on, and pulled her badge out of leather pants pocket flashing it at the bar man and he made a run for it, running out the back door. You and Amanda gave chase and found him in the alley behind the bar that had a big metal fence he was trying to climb over. You ran up to him and pulled him down to the floor and held his hands behind his back with your knee. Amanda called it in for back up and locked down the club.

Sonny and Fin came running out the back door not long after and seen you on of this guy’s back holding him still.

“I haven’t searched him yet, but I bet he has some treats in his pocket” Sonny came over to take over and cuffed him. He then did a quick searched and pulled out a small plastic bag filled with white pills.

“Trick or treat” Sonny said to him and pushed him out to the car.

Liv hadn’t had a chance to go home before you guys came walking in and Amanda called Rafael to come in as well.

“Nice costumes” she smiled at you both.

“Happy Halloween Liv” you sassed back shaking your hips.

You were standing in Liv’s office at the two way window listening to Liv and Sonny question the perp when you felt someone walking towards you.

“Catch the Riddler Detective?” You looked over at Rafael who had an amused smirk on his face.

“Ha Ha” you mocked “Yeah Barba something like that.”

Amanda then walked in and he seen her costume as well, her dressed as cat women.

“Where were you guys?” He raised his eye brow at you both.

You filled him in about what you seen happen at the bar and you told him that you sent the drink and the pills in the guy’s pocket to the lab.

“I bet he is our date rape rapist, Barba, the bag was full of pills. I guarantee if we run his DNA he will match the other cases” you stated to him.

“Yes all that’s well and good Detective, but can you tie him to the other clubs?” he said back.

“We need a warrant for his work records” Amanda commented back, you both giving him a big smile.

He looked between you both, huffed and frowned.

“Fine, I’ll get you a warrant”

Rafael didn’t have much of a personal life. His life was work. He only made time for his Mum and that was pretty much it. It was always dinners and movies alone if he even had the time. He had been too hurt in the past and lost interest in trying to find a relationship.

You were this new fire cracker that walked into his office giving him a run for his money in every way. He started to harbour a crush for you. He loved your sass, your kind nature and you were very beautiful, but no good could come of it. He kept his distance from you and probably acted ruder then he intended, but it was for his own good. That was until Halloween night when he walked in and seen you dressed in your costume.

You were dressed as batgirl. Your dress was short, very short and black with a big yellow bat logo on the chest. You had the cape still tied around your neck, with black fish nets and black knee high leather flat boots. Your hair was curled running down your back. You looked beautiful and it was the first time he had considered opening his heart up.

--

Amanda had walked out of Liv’s office to put a rush on the DNA from the cup and pills.

“If you can get us this warrant Barba for the records, I’ll take you for coffee after we win the trial”

“Hope you keep promises Detective”

“A promise is a promise Counselor” you both smirked at each other.

Tags: @detective-giggles​ @thatesqcrush​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @dianilaws​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @averyhotchner​ @infiniteoddball​

[baymaksu]

Well, thank you @theangrycomet you posed an excellent question about Tadashi and Karmi interacting and... You inspired this scene in my head and I absolutely had to draw and write it out. And now here are the beginnings of a spontaneous one-shot I will complete, called: “BH6: Among Titans.” Here’s the storyboard and an excerpt:

At the Ito Ishioka Robotics Lab, Karmi timidly knocked on the door. Peering her head into the office, she looked towards the SFIT dean who was going through paperwork, “You wanted to see me, Professor Callaghan?”

Taking off his glasses, Professor Robert Callaghan smiled at the teenage prodigy, “Ms. Khan. Yes. I wanted to check in with you. How’s your first semester at SFIT been treating you?” Holding onto her biotech textbook, Karmi smiled back, “It’s been good, Professor. I’m getting a hang of the class schedule.”

Callaghan nodded, “Your professors have been telling me you’ve been doing remarkably well. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, of course.”

Flushing at the compliment, Karmi chuckled, “Oh, thank you, Professor Callaghan. It’s everything I was hoping for. It’s been a good challenge so far.”

“Good. I knew I chose well when I selected you at the Expo. The future is in bright hands. Although, it’s a shame I couldn’t be your mentor. I’m afraid biotech is just not my field of expertise. Unless you’d consider double majoring in Robotics?” The old professor laughed good-naturedly.

Surprised at the offer, Karmi stumbled shyly, “Oh. Th-that would’ve been an honor, Professor Callaghan. I’m already so grateful you chose me to be in SFIT despite my age. But… unfortunately I don’t think robotics is quite a field I see myself in, either.” It truly would be an honor, too. Although she had no inclination towards robotics, she recognized that Professor Callaghan was regarded as one of the “Fathers of Modern Robotics.”

Professor Callaghan frowned lightly for a moment, but quickly laughed as if to expect this response, “Hmmm… I understand, Ms. Khan. I was simply wondering if you’d humor me. I’m still happy to play a part in your growth as a scientist. Well, perhaps you’ll consider it in the future. While I have you here at the Ito Ishioka Robotics Lab, how about I introduce you to one of my proteges?”

“Um. Yes, I’d like that, Professor.” The dean walked over towards her and placed a comforting hand along her shoulder to guide her towards the halls of the robotics lab building. If Karmi was being honest, she found it comforting to be around the dean. She was far away from her parents, from her family. But Professor Callaghan seemed to exude the presence and aura of a very caring father-like figure. And while he wasn’t her mentor in her intended field of biotechnology, he certainly was a mentor that made an exception to accept her to the school of her dreams.

Coming upon an opaque screen door, Professor Callaghan knocked a few times, “Mr. Hamada. Are you free at the moment? I’d like you to meet someone.”

The voice of a young man could be heard into the opaque private lab room, “Yes, Professor. One moment…”

Momentarily, the door opened to reveal a tall young man sporting a grey cardigan sweater and an all-too familiar signature San Fransokyo Ninjas baseball cap that was slicked backwards. The young man had a warm smile on his face. Professor Callaghan looked to Karmi, “Ms. Khan. Meet Mr. Tadashi Hamada. One of SFIT’s best and brightest. His capstone project blends robotics with healthcare and biotech. I think he would be a great student mentor for you.” Now, looking to his protege, “Mr. Hamada, this Ms. Karmi Khan. She’s a first year biotech major.”

Tadashi chuckled warmly, “You know, Professor. If you keep singing my praises, I may never be able to live up to that.” Now focusing his attention to the new student, Tadashi stepped forward to offer a handshake, “Hello, Karmi. Welcome to SFIT, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re already the talk of the school with the honor of being our youngest student. It’s quite a feat, you must be proud.”

Karmi awkwardly took his hand and shook it, “Oh, thanks! I.. I am. The honor- or umm… pleasure is all mine, Mr. Tadashi.“ She was utterly taken aback, bashfully processing that he was complimenting her. She was proud, to be sure. But to hear this from the young man that everyone seemed to liken as a “handsome, brilliant white knight.” She had already known about Tadashi. It was hard not to, he really did have an impressive reputation at SFIT.

“You can loosen up, Karmi! Call me Tadashi!” The young man laughed, rubbing the back of his head. He put a hand along his chin contemplatively, “Sixteen years old… You know, if only I could get my little brother to meet you. Maybe you’d inspire him to do something with his big brain, too. He could use a genius friend around his age.”

“Oh…” Once again, Karmi was thrown for a loop. She honestly has never been great with socializing with other people her age, or with most people in fact. But she did feel honored that Tadashi would feel like she would inspire other people like his little brother.

———

Meanwhile, in an alleyway deep within San Fransokyo’s illustrious Good Luck Alley…. With his megabot in hand, Hiro “innocently” walked towards a roaring crowd circling around several bot fighters.

Right before he could weave into the crowd, he suddenly sneezed. The boy had a habit of not covering himself when he sneezed. Some calloused, unsavory characters turned around to scowl at the little boy who sneezed at them. Hiro shrunk with a nervous chuckle, “S-Sorry. It’s… uhhh… dusty here.” With another roar in the crowd, the ruffians looked back towards the action and dismissed the kid. No doubt, their money was betted on the line and wanted to see the victor.

Hiro’s eyes narrowed annoyedly, a finger scratching his nose and sniffling at the sudden sneeze. He muttered to himself, “I sense a disturbance… Tadashi must be talking about me…” The young boy pictured in his head his older brother trying to tell him to go to school like him rather than bot fight…

Hearing the roaring of the crowd at the declared victor. Hiro shrugged his shoulders at the thought, grinning mischievously, “Well, looks like business is good!” The little boy squeezed himself into the crowd, making his way towards the center…

———

Back at the Ito Ishioka Robotics Lab, Tadashi welcomed Karmi and Professor Callaghan into his private lab, “But hey, you caught me at a good time. I was about to conduct another trial test of my project.”

Recalling that Professor Callaghan stated that his project blended robotics and biotech, this piqued Karmi’s interest, “What is your project… if I may ask?”

“Of course. I think it’d be best to show you.” Walking over to his holographic monitor, Tadashi typed away. Until suddenly, a white balloon-like entity inflated from a red station. When it fully inflated, it revealed a marshmallow-like robot, as Tadashi gestured toward his creation, “This is Baymax. He’s a robotic healthcare companion. Fully capable of a comprehensive, non-invasive diagnostic scan and will have over 10,000 medical protocols and procedures coded into him, among other things.”

“He’s…” The summary description of his project was already incredible, Karmi couldn’t quite articulate herself and yelled, “He’s adorable! He looks like you can just hug him!”

With a wide smile, Tadashi crossed his arms proudly, “Yeah. That’s what Dr. Bay and I were going for. He’s going to help a lot of people, so he needs to be approachable.” With an even wider grin, “Want to watch a test trial?” Karmi’s eyes lit up, “Yes, of course!”

With a nod, Tadashi grabbed a labeled object and stood in front of the inflated robot, “This is Tadashi Hamada. And this is the 62nd test of my robotics project.”

They could hear the machine initializing, until suddenly it looked towards Tadashi and spoke, “/Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare- care- Hello. You look like you could use a hug./“ It stepped off of its charging station.

Tadashi mused to himself, “Hmm… A bit out of sequence. Going to have to recode that.” Now addressing his creation, “But ummm… sure, I would love a hug, big guy.” Tadashi raised his arms, preparing himself for a hug.

The robotic healthcare companion waddled towards him, raising its arms to envelope around Tadashi, “/I will hug you now./“

But to Tadashi’s horror, Baymax began wiggling his fingers during the embrace, “W-Wait! B-Baymax! That’s n-not- THAT’S TICKLING!” The young man erupted into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, trying to wrestle out of the machine’s grasp. “/There. There./“

Suddenly, Baymax looked towards Karmi and Professor Callaghan as Tadashi pried himself away, “/Would you like a hug, too?/“ Slyly, Professor Callaghan smoothly sidestepped himself outside of the private lab. But Karmi couldn’t quite process the odd predicament she was in…

“Karmi, look out!” Before the rogue tickle death machine could grab the young prodigy, Tadashi selflessly got in its way and pushed Karmi out of Baymax’s destructive tickling path. Tadashi yelled valiantly, “Save yourselves! I’ll hold him off!”

Karmi ran out of the room, a hand at her mouth agape. Trying to see if she could help the young man. Professor Callaghan calmly closed the door on Tadashi and Baymax, smiling coolly as they could hear the young man wrestling with vinyl and howling with laughter. Karmi couldn’t help but giggle. The professor seemed to simply wait until they heard, “I- I’M SATIS- SATISFIED WITH MY CARE!”

They could hear heavy breathing until Tadashi opened the door, “Whew… I’m sorry about that you guys. He still needs a lot of work.”

Karmi’s eyes were still wide at the spectacle. Looking to see that the robot was now powered down. Recovering from the shock, she awkwardly tried to comfort the young man about his project, “He’s still really amazing! I think when he’s ready, he’ll really help a lot of people. And tickling could help? It makes people laugh?”

With a soft chuckle, catching his breath, Tadashi smiled at her, “Thanks, Karmi. He’ll get there. I won’t give up on him.” Finally regaining his initial composure, Tadashi stood tall, “But listen. I know it can be intimidating starting your first year here. I’m no biotech or medical whiz, or a robotics whiz as you can see for that matter… But if you ever need any help, feel free to come see me.”

This brightened up Karmi’s expression, “Thank you, Tadashi. I really appreciate it. It was a pleasure meeting you and Baymax. I’ll come around if I need help.” Tadashi nodded at the young girl, “Good. I’ll hold you to it, then.”

Professor Callaghan chimed in as he looked towards his protege with an approving expression, “Well, we’ll leave you to it, Mr. Hamada. Keep up the progress. You’re making great strides. Good luck on your project.”

“Thanks, Professor Callaghan. See you around, Karmi! As you could see, I have a lot of work ahead of me. So if anything, you know where to find me!” They all waved farewell to each other as Tadashi slowly closed the door to his private lab.

As they walked down the hall together, Karmi was deep in thought as she processed meeting Tadashi. She finally looked up towards her professor and remarked, “62 tests? I don’t know if I’d be able to keep trying like that… He’s just… incredible.”

Professor Callaghan nodded as he hummed, “Even geniuses have to work hard, Ms. Khan. Mr. Hamada believes in his work and adheres himself to a higher standard. As I said, I only chose the best and the brightest who can shape the future. That’s why I chose you.” He looked down to the biotech prodigy proudly and fondly like a father would to his accomplished child.

Karmi was elated to hear this, shyly responding, “Thank you, Professor Callaghan. Although, I think seeing even Tadashi struggling with his robotics project didn’t exactly inspire me to consider taking up robotics…”

The dean laughed heartily, “I just wanted to show you that an interdisciplinary approach could be an interesting path less travelled. And I’d certainly enjoy having you in my class. You never know. There may come a day you’ll take an interest.”

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist 

Part 8 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: A lot of yelling, language, and some supernatural references (if you squint) 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~ 

You took deep breaths as Hotch led you towards the interview room. You tightened your fists at your sides as you ran through your mind how you planned on doing any of this. The last time you'd tried to negotiate with a man like him, it hadn't been pretty. 

"You need to get him angry, alright? That's his weakness. Figure out which of the archetypes he is. Get as much as you can out of him, but do not under any circumstances let him speak to anyone or manipulate you. We will switch out with Morgan to watch over him in an hour. Good luck." Hotch readied you, giving you the files you needed. You clutched the manilla envelope against your chest, trying to calm your ever racing heart. 

You nod wordlessly, facing the man in the see through mirror. He was wearing a red flannel and a black shirt underneath paired with ripped jeans. He had hunters boots on as well. He had a bruise forming on his jaw and a fresh cut that was bandaged on his forehead. 

Morgan stepped up behind you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You can do this, kid. Promise. Don't let him get to you." He insists. You nodded shakily, looking up at the man again. 

You turn towards Morgan with a determined look. "Just promise me you won't interrupt. Even if he tries to attack me." You insist. Morgan widens his eyes. 

"Princess, we can't do that. If anything goes wrong-" he began, unable to find the right words to fill the gap. "You could get hurt. And that's paperwork." He adds with a sigh. You giggle and shake your head. 

"Morgan, we both know paperwork isn't what you're worried about." You tease before you turn around and find the handle to the interview room. Here goes nothing. 

You walk in, closing the door behind you. As soon as you turn around to do so, you hear a whistle from behind you. 

"Damn… and here I thought they'd be sendin' in some prissy princess. How you doin'?" The man asked. You swallow. This was exactly how you expected him to treat you. You'd had experience with narcissists and manipulators before. This was the first thing they did. 

"I don't know, Jensen." You greet, grateful you had stolen a glance at his profile and which one of the brothers he was. He smirked at you, leaning forward and biting his lip flirtatiously. "Why don't you tell me how you're doing with all of these murders. I mean, it has to get to you somehow. All that blood on your hands… all that guilt… unless it's just fun for you." You ask, smirking at him as you changed the subject. Jensen's face shifted slightly, twitching at how focused you still were at getting these answers. 

"Sure it's fun. But I only do it cause I have to. You know… I'd stop if I had a girl like you…" he insists, attempting to reach across and touch your chin. You back away slowly, just about enough to make him think you were playing hard to get. You batted your eyelashes and threw your hair behind your shoulder. 

"Oh really? You would?" You asked, pulling out a photo. "What about that brother of yours? Sam, right? What's he like?" You ask in a flirtatious tone. Jensen yet again shifts a little in his seat, uncomfortable that he was losing control of the conversation.  

"Hey, Sammy can't even get it up half the time. All the girls he fucks he kills afterwards. I'm better, trust me." He insists, winking at you from where he sat slouched in the seat across from you. He bit his lip a little harder and hummed gently. "Man… you know, if I didn't have these handcuffs on I could show you a pretty good time…" he trails, giving you a seductive look. Had this been over five years ago, this flirting would have seriously got you. No one had ever flirted with you this way. Not even now. But after all your experience with secret motivations behind smiling masks, you knew better. 

"Oh yeah? I thought you were… more the kinky type. Let a girl think she's in control for a good little bit." You ask, purposely shifting in your seat to slightly pull up your skirt. Your plan has been working so far. Hopefully Morgan was keeping his promise. 

Jensen licked his lips and looked you up and down. "I'm guessing this ain't your first rodeo, is it, princess?" He asks, giving you a flirtatious glance. You bite back a disgusted groan that would've fallen from your mouth if the situation were different. 

You giggle and hold a hand to your mouth. "No, no I'm afraid it isn't." You tease. Jensen flashes a white smile you're sure has charmed plenty of women in his past into his pants. 

"Good. I like women with… experience." He flirts back. "You think I could get a beer in here? Some whiskey?" He asks. 

"How about you answer a few questions for me, big boy? Then maybe I'll let you ask for a few things. Of course, within reason." You remind, winking back at him. Jensen leaned back in his chair and pondered what you offered. 

"Sure, lay it on me, Baby." He allows, nodding to you. You let out an undetectable sigh of relief before you start up again. So far, so good. 

"So… Jensen… how would you describe your relationship with Sam? Strong? You get along good?" You ask, internally groaning at how much you sounded like a therapist. 

Jensen seemed to share this sentiment and let out a groan for you. "Geez, you sound like a goddamn shrink." He grumbles as he sits up. "Yeah… me and Sammy are always by each other. I practically raised him. He's my baby brother. What do you expect? Some people say we're codependent on each other but, really, who are they to judge?" He shrugged, looking at you. 

You nod, looking through the information. Just as you begin to open your mouth to ask another question, Jensen slightly hits the table. 

"Nuh uh, sweetheart. You asked me a question, so I get to ask one too. Am I right?" He clarifies, giving you a shit-eating grin because he knew he was right. You sigh and nodded, closing the file for a moment. Jensen smirked and leaned forward towards you. 

"How come we ain't on a first name basis yet, hm? You know my name, what's yours sugar-tits?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. You swallow gently. 

"My name is Agent-" 

"No-no-no-" Jensen interrupted. "I mean your real name, sweetness. You know, the name mommy and daddy gave you when they signed that slip of paper." He insists, pressing a finger into the table. 

You sigh. "I can meet you half-way and give you my middle name-" you attempt to compromise. 

"No, damnit!" He growls, slapping his fists into the table. "I want a damn name! No name? No answers, bitch!" He yelled in your face. You swallowed all the nerves building up in your throat, clearing it for a moment. 

"Alright, alright, calm down. Or we'll have to detain you again. And then you won't get the chance to hear my name or potentially strike up a deal, you hear me?" You ask, biting the inside of your cheek just barely. 

Jensen seemed satisfied with your answer, settling back into his chair. 

"They call me (Y/N)." You answer after a quiet moment. Jensen smiles greedily. 

"(Y/N), huh? You don't hear that one everyday."

"No, you don't. Now… Jensen. Can you tell me, what exactly you and your brother were doing when you decided to kill these two men?" You asked, pushing the pictures of the crime scene in front of him. He rolled his eyes.

"They were tax guys. We didn't wanna pay tax, is that too hard to get, baby?" He asks with a chuckle.  

"No, I figured that. No, what I want to know, is why you decided to pour salt on the body once they were already dead, and set them on fire?" You questioned. Jensen began to protest but you held up a hand. 

"I'll let you ask two questions once you answer me." You promise, pointing at one of the photos. He sighed and leaned back. 

"Ain't I allowed a lawyer?" He asks. 

"Not since you escaped prison and are not a legal, non-incarcerated citizen. Sure, you will receive an attorney for trial. But I doubt a lawyer will help you here. I'm your best bet at being able to strike up a deal." 

Jensen grumbled, looking around the room, still refusing to answer. You nod as you begin to take mental notes. 

"Ah I see. This all has to do with the man who burned your mother, doesn't it?" You ask him, catching him off guard. 

"Wha-?! How did-?" He began. 

"We're the FBI, Jensen. Not some local police officer you can convince you were just experimenting how to build a bonfire and try to tell me they got just a little too close. You see, your mother was salted and burned too. But I bet you knew that. That man assaulted her in your brother's nursery and started the fire. You reserved that method for him. But you couldn't remember whether the man was blond haired, or dark. So you killed them both the same way. Didn't you, Jensen? You and your brother got caught up in your daddy's little business-" 

"Shut up-" Jensen growled.  

"And now you can't stand to let him down. To break the promise you made to him-" 

"Shut. Up." He hissed.  

"And you brought your little brother into it too because you couldn't face all the guilt all alone. Because you're afraid of being abandoned. Despite all the ways you have to fill up that void: Drink, Sex, Money, you know that you can never be satisfied." You insist, leaning closer to Jensen as you begin to raise your voice.  

"Shut the hell up, bitch!" He attempted to shout over you. 

"You can never be satisfied because all you are is daddy's little pawn. And without him? You see no purpose for yourself-" 

"Son of a bitch-!" He growled, slamming his fist into the table again. "Shut the fuck up before I make you-" 

"Then answer me this one question, Jensen." You insist, standing up as he does. 

"Why should I-?" He roars. 

"Cause I know you never wanted this. That you wanted a regular family. And I can find that family you tried to hold onto." You insist. It was a long shot, but you had to try. 

"What the hell are you talking about-?!" 

"Men like you, who have broken homes, broken families with deadbeat fathers, they try to start over. Try to be the man their father wasn't. And I can see that you fit right into that, Jensen. You tried to have a family. You desperately tried. But you were too sucked into this second life you had that you had to choose. And you regret it. Now, tell me where your brother is, and I'll find them for you." You promise. 

Jensen widens his eyes in shock, as if he was surprised you could get all of that from just this little interview. He tensed up and took his seat again, twitching with anger and disbelief. "You're bluffing… she… Daneel moved on from me. Changed her name. You can't find her." 

"I bet that I can. I'll find them and let you see them again. If you tell me where your brother is." You restate, calming your voice to a caring tone. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands. 

"There's an old factory we both head to… when one of us gets caught. It's down south of Lebanon. He'll be there. Now you better find her for me. Or I will strangle you here and now-" he began to threaten. 

"I wouldn't lie about that. You'll see her. You'll see your brother too. Just behave, and I may be able to get some visiting privileges worked out for you." You promise, collecting the files again and head towards the door. 

"(Y/N)..." 

You turn your head as you hear your name. Before you can even reply, he finishes his statement.  

"Thank you." He says just barely audibly. You smile gently and nod to him before you leave the room. 

Once out you exhale your hardest, taking in a similar inhale. That, was a lot. 

"Damn… how the hell did you get all that? How did you… even do that?" Morgan asks, helping you up from where you had unknowingly leaned against the door. 

You shook your head, smiling somewhat. "I… I trusted my gut. I've unfortunately dealt with guys like him. And the one thing they treasure is something they know they can never have." You explain, looking up at Morgan. 

"Well still, you did a good job staying calm in there. I mean… Hotch and I didn't know whether or not you were seriously flirting with him or not." Morgan chuckles. 

"Yeah well… sure he was handsome but, he isn't my type." You reveal. Morgan smirks and nudges your shoulder. 

"Yeah, cause your type is 6'1 and a gigantic nerd. Who by the way, couldn't stay in the room watching the interrogation after you started flirting with him. You should've seen him, all red faced too." He grinned. You widen your eyes at his reveal, doing a little blushing of your own. 

"Really?" You ask. 

"Yeah, kid. But seriously… (Y/N)? You've been holding out on me princess! Why didn't you tell me you had a name like that?" He teased, leading you out of the room and towards the rest of the station. 

"Well… you can call me (Y/N/N). I go by that more often by friends." You insist. Morgan chuckles.  

"And we are most definitely, friends." He says, holding up a fist for you. You giggle and give him a fist bump, walking with him back out to where Hotch and the rest of the team were. 

"We all need to split up and take different entrances to the factory. He probably knows the building better than we do. Once we're in, we'll corner him. Without his brother he is vulnerable." Hotch explains, unaware Morgan was walking up behind him. 

You look down and pull your skirt back into place. You didn't need anyone thinking you were trying to get some. 

"So Hotch, what's the plan?" Morgan asked. 

Hotch turned around and faced the two of you. "I'm having Garcia get the layout of the factory now. There's only one down there, so we have to assume that's the one Jensen meant." 

"Great work, (L/N)." Prentiss says, smiling at you. 

"Thank you." You respond. "I… just trusted my gut. Hotch?" You spoke up. The man in question turned his head towards you. You sigh and begin to speak up. 

"I called Garcia to find her for you." Rossi interrupted, smiling at you. "I'll put it on my record, so you can still have a clean one." He promises, winking at you. 

Hotch nodded. "Yes, we'll get in contact with this Daneel. If any pop up in his history, we'll call her down to see him. Now we need to hurry. Jensen may have a way to tip off his brother. You need to change out of that and get down to the factory." He says to you. 

"She can change in the car with me." Prentiss insists. "Like you said we don't have much time." 

"Alright. (L/N), you ride with Prentiss. Let's go." He says, prompting all of you to head towards the doors. 

○●♡●○ 

"Damn, (Y/N), where have you been all my life?" Derek asks as you both come back into the station, followed by the rest of the team. 

They had managed to apprehend the brother. Turns out that Sam had been contemplating suicide and when you had told him he could see his brother again, he gave in. So he was much easier than his brother. 

"I dunno, Morgan. Probably hidden under all the other chicks you had to take out first." You teased, giggling a little as you all took a seat (and or leaned against the wall, as was Morgan’s thing.) 

Spencer, on the other hand, chose to head into the evidence room instead. You raised an eyebrow, confused. 

"Hey, uh… is Reid okay? I mean, he was the one who got the guy in handcuffs. Did you see him though? He had to be at least as tall as Spencer." You chuckled. 

"Why do you say that?" Prentiss asks. 

"Did you not see him skip this little after case review? He went straight into the evidence room. I've never known him in the two months that I have, to go clean up evidence boards before talking to all of us." You point out. 

"He's probably just jealous." Morgan teased. You furrow your eyebrows and wack Morgan’s arm. Morgan smiles and winces playfully in pain.

"I thought you promised me you wouldn't talk about it!?" You hissed. 

"Ooh, talk about what?" JJ asks, taking her own seat instead of standing. Hotch smiles softly and chuckles. 

"The obvious crush Ms. (L/N) has on Reid." Hotch spoke up. 

You whip around faster than the swivel chair can as you look at Hotch in surprise. "Don't tell me he told you!" You whined, your blush making a reappearance on your face as you cover them. 

Hotch chuckles and lets Rossi take over his defense. "We all know already, kid. You aren't exactly slick about it." He says with a chuckle of his own. 

"You all suck. Capital S." You grumble. 

"Hey, I didn't do anything about it." Prentiss points out. "Though sure, I may have said something about Reid…" she trails. You groan louder. 

"Seriously? How obvious have I really been?" You ask. "And be honest with me please." You insist. Each of your team members looked to one another before they each said: "Very." 

You let out a frustrated growl and lean back in your chair. Morgan chuckled as he put a hand on your shoulder. 

"Kid, you weren't slick." He admits. 

After a moment, Morgan gets an idea and smirks. "So… does he know your name?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Prentiss and JJ gasp for a moment, smiling at you expectantly. A third gasp joins them, causing you to crane your neck to find out where it came from. JJ turned her phone around and showed Garcia's caller ID. You should have known. 

"Come on kid, is it safe to tell us yet?" Morgan asks, smiling genuinely at you. The most real one you'd gotten thus far, you think with a grumble. 

You sigh as you begin to grin from ear to ear. Guess you weren't getting out of this. You had finally been able to let your guard down around the team. You felt welcomed and not like a burden. So you said it. 

"My name is (Y/N). But you all can call me (Y/N/N)." 

A few shrieks from Garcia's end were quickly heard then silenced through the volume button of JJ's phone. Prentiss smiled at you, sitting back gently.  

"Really now? Never thought I'd say it but I never pegged you for a (Y/N)." She commented. You snickered. 

"Yeah, well, you can thank my grandfather for  that one. He insisted my parents name me something normal. Or at least something that wasn't Gwenevere. So they compromised on (Y/N)." You laugh, bringing a few more members of the team with you. 

This was home. You'd only known a true home one time before this in your life. And this was it. This is what home was to you. Not a random apartment, not some desk job, this. This work family you'd built up for the past two months. 

You just hoped you hadn't screwed up with Reid again. 

[dweetwise]

300 followers gift fic: beach episode

instead of taking a writing break i finally finished the crackfic i promised for 300 followers! it’s a little weird and i,, kind of make fun of frank a little too much but i hope you enjoy the silliness nonetheless!

characters: david, dwight, steve, ace, quentin, frank, julie, susie, joey ship: david x dwight warnings: mild violence, mention of blood word count: 6950 (hELP)

David feels his feet hit the ground as he’s teleported into a trial, the fog of the Entity slowly clearing from his mind. He opens his eyes—

—and promptly has to close them right after because bloody hell it's bright!

“Woah! Look at this!” an awestruck voice exclaims from somewhere nearby, and David thinks it's Steve, finally managing to squint his eyes open enough to try to make out their surroundings.

As soon as he does so, he immediately decides he's hallucinating.

He's on a sunny beach. There's waves slowly rolling onto the fine white sand and the sun is shining bright, high up in the clear blue sky.

The only thing that stops David from being sure that he's dreaming is Steve smacking him on the shoulder and uttering an excited “Dude, are you seeing this?” because if he was dreaming he sure as hell wouldn't be here with Steve.

“Where are we?" a voice that sounds much more fitting for his dream pipes up from behind him, and David turns to find Dwight making his way over. "Did—did we escape…?” their leader's tired eyes are wide with hope, and he rubs his arms nervously and—

Holy shit, he's shirtless.

Steve is shrugging and replying something to Dwight, but David's brain can't comprehend anything that isn't Dwight and his surprisingly well-defined, freckled shoulders and the adorable chub around his waist and fuck, David bets his skin feels so soft—

“What do you think, David?” Dwight asks, and David forces himself to tear his gaze away from Dwight’s torso to his face. But then he has those big, brown eyes looking up at him and searching for guidance, like David is even half of the leader Dwight is.

“Don’t seem like a trial,” David manages to get out through the mess of thoughts that is his feelings for the man. “Should look around—you stay close to me, eh?” he urges their leader, despite knowing full well Dwight is more than enough capable of looking after himself.

He takes some comfort in the fact that despite Dwight being aware of that too, the man responds with a nod and a small, if a little shaky, smile.

“Come on guys, hurry up!” Steve calls from a short distance away, reminding David that they’re not, in fact, alone. They follow the excited teen, walking along the shoreline.

As Steve prattles on about how warm it is and pesters them about whether or not they know how to swim, David tries and fails to focus on their predicament and not let his eyes wander.

He notices Dwight is wearing red board shorts with a pizza slice pattern, and tries not to smile. He wonders if it’s something he owned in the real world, or that the Entity made up just for this occasion. Either way, they’re way cuter than they have any right of being.

“Dude, I like the shorts!” Steve’s voice finally gets through to David, probably because he’s looking a little too intently at Dwight’s neither regions, but then he thankfully turns to give David the same treatment. “Yours are… uh, kinda neat too!”

And for the first time David actually takes a look at his own outfit. He hadn’t even realized he was also in swimwear, so used to going shirtless trial after trial. But sure enough, the Entity has put him in dark blue swim shorts, and he snorts upon spotting the cartoony beer pint pattern. He sure as hell has never owned a pair that looks like this, so apparently the Entity is enjoying playing dress-up with them.

“I think yours are cool too,” Dwight returns the compliment and David goes back to glaring at Steve, who grins and shows off his (really fucking ugly, in David’s opinion) striped shorts with pictures of ice cream cones.

Steve, thankfully, doesn’t have time for what would no doubt be an obnoxious reply, the sounds of an argument drifting over to the trio.

“—you should let me do it! I have Plunderers!” David recognizes Ace’s annoying voice before he spots the man, standing over what looks to be someone searching a chest.

“And I have Pharmacy, so shut it,” Quentin’s messy mop of hair appears over the chest when he offers a half-hearted glare at the gambler.

“Nobody wants a dusty old med-kit!” Ace huffs, hands on his hips. “Who knows what else we could find?”

“Too late,” Quentin snarks and finally rips the lock off, Ace sighing in defeat as he opens the chest. “What the… what’s all this?”

“Oi, what’s going on?” David walks up to the duo. “Did’ya find somethin’?”

“Hey, buddy—” Ace greets before David shoves his way past the man, peering into the chest that has Quentin so confused, coming face to face with…

“Beach equipment?” Quentin summarizes, lifting a water gun and a towel from the chest.

“Cool!” Steve has joined them and, predictably, gets excited, grabbing the toy immediately.

“Have you two seen anyone else?” Dwight asks Quentin and Ace, trailing after Steve to join them.

“Nope!” Ace chirps, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and a beach towel from the box. “Looks like it’s just us, unless the rest are… I don’t know, out at sea?”

“Half expected to run into a killer,” Quentin muses. “Guess we got lucky it’s just the five of us instead.”

“Shame it's just dudes. I bet the girls would've—uh,” Steve says, before seeming to realize how desperate he sounds. “Really enjoyed it too…?” he finishes with a sheepish smile.

“Uh-huh,” Quentin deadpans. “I'm sure that's the reason.”

“It's a tragedy the new guy isn't here," Ace sighs wistfully. “I’d pay good money to see him shirtless.”

David rolls his eyes while Dwight, embarrassed, chokes on nothing.

“Y-you shouldn't talk about Felix like that,” their leader stammers, completely oblivious to how David was ogling him earlier.

“Just saying what half of the camp is thinking,” Ace shrugs.

“I wonder if Jane's coming?” Steve seems to realize, glancing around as if expecting more people to pop up out of thin air.

“You're both disgusting,” Quentin snorts, starting to walk away from the group. “I'm going for a swim."

“But we don't know if it's safe!” Dwight calls after him.

"I mean… if I drown in Entity goo, don't come after me," Quentin merely responds, putting on some swimming goggles and making his way to the shoreline.

“I wonder why Quentin’s in a speedo and the rest of us have trunks?” Steve thinks out loud, and sure enough, David realizes he’s right, noticing Quentin’s swimwear when he swan dives into the ocean.

“Didn’t he use to do competitive swimming?” Dwight points out, because of course he would, because nobody knows any of them quite as well as Dwight, because he’s an amazing leader and friend and—

David’s train of thought comes to a halt when he glances around and notices what has to be a crime against fashion.

“I’d rather a speedo than whatever the fock tha’ is,” David snorts, gesturing to where Ace is laying his beach towel, wearing a pair of hot pink swimming trunks with a banana pattern, along with a trashy, bright yellow aloha shirt. Apparently he’s gotten so used to the man’s questionable style that he didn’t even notice the travesty until now.

“Aww, come on David!” Ace grins, taking his jab in stride. “I know you really wanted some pink shorts too.”

“It’s kinda funny that the Entity gave us shorts with our favorite food!” Steve grins while rummaging through the supplies in the chest. “I love ice cream, Dwight obviously likes pizza, and David beer, and Ace—”

“Cock,” David finishes the sentence, eyeing the banana shorts suspiciously, while Ace bursts out laughing, Steve’s eyes fly wide open and Dwight sputters something unintelligible.

“David!” Dwight finally manages to scold him, face red from embarrassment. “You can’t just say stuff like that—”

“Yeah yeah, sorry luv,” David grins apologetically, immediately cursing himself for letting the pet name slip. “’M goin’ for a swim too,” he decides, making his way to the water to try to get his thoughts in order.

David’s never been much of a beach person, not having enough patience to sunbathe and not a huge fan of swimming, either. But he can’t deny the warmth from the sun, even if fake, feels nice, and the soft sand under his feet is pleasant. When was the last time he even walked barefoot?

His toes touch the water and that’s where the pleasantness ends because goddamn, it’s cold! David can’t remember the last time he felt an actual chill, as the Entity seems determined to make sure they’re never too hot or too cold, even the snowy grounds of Ormond feeling room temperature.

But now, David has to grit his teeth as cold shoots through his system just from dipping his toes in. He glances at Quentin, still swimming around without a care in the world, and can’t imagine how the hell the teen managed to dive right in without going into shock.

David glances over his shoulder, wanting to see if someone’s looking at him freaking out over the water like a scared kitten. Steve is still engrossed in pulling out all the contents of the crate, before he hands a bottle of something to Dwight, who squirts some into his hand and starts—lord have mercy—lathering himself up with the sunscreen.

And David is helpless to do anything but stare, seeing Dwight work the creamy substance into his equally creamy skin, starting with his arms and then working it into his chest. He runs his hands down his torso, covering himself self-consciously when the softness around his belly jiggles slightly with the movement, and god what David wouldn’t give to be able to do that for him. He’d work the lotion into the skin nice and slow, taking his time and making sure to murmur how perfect Dwight looks and how good his body feels—

David’s brain does the equivalent of a record screech when his perfect, half-naked angel walks up to Ace, of all people.

“Ace, can you… uh, give me a hand with my back…?” Dwight asks nervously, holding out the bottle of sunscreen, and David thinks he's going to burst a vein from how much his blood pressure rises upon hearing the request.

Ace sits up on his elbows, before looking over his sunglasses with a smirk like the disgusting pervert he is, and David swears that if he lays a finger on Dwight's bare skin he's fucking throwing fists—

But then Ace's eyes meet his and a trimmed eyebrow raises in acknowledgement, still with that infuriating smirk on his face, and David's anger gives way to mortification because shit, what if Ace knows about his little crush?

To his relief, Ace just ends up sighing.

“Can you ask someone else? I'm kind of busy,” the gambler says, flopping back down to lay on his towel.

“Oh, okay…” Dwight says, looking so disappointed, and David’s breath catches in his throat because this is his chance!

“What the fuck, Ace?” Quentin emerges from the waves beside him before he can do anything. “Not everyone has your complexion. Some of us burn really easily,” Quentin scolds, walking up to the duo and no doubt glaring at the gambler. “Come on, I’ll help you,” he offers to Dwight, who returns a grateful smile.

Quentin starts rubbing the cream onto Dwight’s back, and then has the nerve to ask if Dwight can return the favor, so David grits his teeth and marches into the ocean to cool off so he doesn’t end up pile driving the teen into the sand.

He only manages to get deep enough for the water to reach his junk before he instantly regrets the decision, the cold making things shrivel up unpleasantly. He ends up just ducking his head into the water and wading back to shore, hoping that Dwight the others didn’t see him chickening out for the second time in a row.

The others are still engrossed in their own activities, Steve filling up the water gun in the shallows and Ace looking to doze off in the sun, Quentin and Dwight chatting nearby.

And nobody sees the strange group approaching from the treeline behind them.

“Oi!” David calls, getting the attention of his friends and picking up the pace to get to Dwight in case the strangers mean bad news. “Hope yer not lookin’ fer trouble,” he addresses the new group, causing the others to finally take notice of their company.

“Who’s that?” Quentin asks with a frown, taking in the sight of four people, two girls and two guys, dressed in swimwear and one of the boys even carrying a large swim ring on his shoulder. The group’s animated chatter dies down as they seem to notice their company.

“Oh my god, this is fucking typical!” one of the group, a young woman with blonde hair and a plaid bikini, scoffs in offense.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here!?” a skinny man with very questionable choice of swimwear, pastel purple board shorts with rubber ducks, demands.

“Fuck me, is the Entity pranking us?” the other man sighs, dressed in much more bland swimwear with black and white skulls.

“Aww,” the final member pouts, twiddling with her bright pink braid over her pink and black bikini. “Frank, you didn’t tell us there’d be others!”

David’s brow furrows upon hearing the name; it sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it. Luckily, Dwight is much more of a quick thinker than he is.

“L-legion?” Dwight squeaks, his eyes going wide in fear, and David is now back to full alert because he’s right, they group is definitely the killers, David just didn’t connect the dots because of how normal the kids look.

“What, you gonna scream? Cry?” the leader, Frank, taunts obnoxiously, strutting to the front of his posse. “How about you guys go fuck yourselves and leave the beach to us, before someone gets hurt?”

Dwight takes a step back while David takes one forward, anger bubbling up because who the fuck does this prick think he is—

“Nice swimmies, Franky,” Quentin suddenly pipes up, making David stop in his tracks. “Did your mommy pick them out for you?”

“Tch—” Frank balks, his face scrunching up in anger even as redness rises up on his cheeks.

“He might have lost a small bet,” the pink-haired girl, David doesn’t recall her name, quips cheerfully in response.

“Shut up, Susie!” Frank hisses at his friend, before turning back to point at Quentin accusingly. “Of course you had to bring this waste of space, too!” he seems to direct the complaint at Dwight.

“S-sorry—” Dwight starts.

“Don’t,” David orders, placing a large hand on Dwight’s shoulder and stepping between their leader and the Legion’s. “This arsehole don’t deserve yer apology."

“Oh yeah?” the bigger guy, David thinks he remembers hearing his name is Joey, steps forward to back up his friend. Unfortunately, he doesn’t intimidate David in the slightest, especially not with only an inflatable beach toy as his weapon. “Maybe you should think twice about picking a fight.”

“Guys…” the blonde girl starts, sounding exasperated.

“Come on Jules, knives or not, we can take them. Easily,” Frank tells her, and David notices both Dwight and Quentin tense next to him, preparing himself to dodge a swing any second now—

“Ahoy, ladies!” Steve suddenly shoves his way to the front of the group, offering the two girls a cheeky grin and cocking his water gun against a hat he doesn’t have. “Would you like to set sail on an ocean of—” he falters, looking around the beach in thought. “…Water?”

There’s a moment of silence following Steve’s interruption, the tension in the air effectively disappearing as everyone stares at Steve with varying levels of amusement and disbelief.

“Um,” the pink-haired girl—Susie—comments, regarding the teen skeptically.

“Aww, he’s even more of a dork outside of trials,” the one named Jules—for Julie, right?—coos patronizingly. “Look at him with his little toy!”

“Thanks! You wanna have a watergun fight?” Steve is either completely oblivious to the jab or takes it in stride.

“I’ll shove that fucking gun so far down your throat—” Frank threatens.

“Kinky!” Quentin comments cheerily.

“Oh you’ll regret that—” Frank snarls.

“Children!” Ace’s yell snaps them out of the ensuing argument, everyone turning to face the man who has apparently finally decided to grace them with his presence.

“Ugh, it just keeps getting better,” Julie snarks sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“While apparently you guys had a negotiation with the Entity, we have no idea why it decided to put us here,” Ace explains with a friendly smile, ignoring the snide comment. “So why not try to make the most of it? There’s more than enough room for all of us. We’ll stay out of your hair if you do the same,” he says, giving a pointed stare at David and Quentin.

“Okay!” Susie beams.

“What? No it’s not!” Frank argues.

“Why not?” the girl whines. “I don’t wanna waste time fighting. This was supposed to be our day off.”

“So we gonna beat them up or what?” Joey seems to be getting impatient. “If not, I wanna go swimming.”

“Yeah, same,” Julie agrees. “Let’s just leave them be.”

“Fine,” Frank spits, glaring at each of the survivors in turn. “You’d better stay the fuck outta my sight.”

David wants to argue and he can sense Quentin does too, the teen biting his lip to suppress what would no doubt be a snarky comment. The only thing stopping David from picking a fight is Dwight’s hesitant hand on his arm, a wordless plea to not make the situation worse, and Frank would have to push a whole lot harder for David to ever deny Dwight.

“Looks like we have a deal,” Ace smiles, his shoulders sagging just the tiniest bit from relief.

There’s a silent understanding when the killers start making their way to one side of the beach while Ace motions for them to head back to theirs, and the situation looks to be peacefully resolved.

“Hey, you guys should check out the stuff the Entity gave us!” Steve suggests, inviting them right back over, most likely unintentionally, but it still makes Dwight sigh and David can even hear Ace groan in exasperation.

“I give up,” Ace sighs with a wave of his hand, leaving them to fend for themselves for when another fight inevitably breaks out.

David doesn’t really care if the killers grab some of the items meant for them, but it’s the principle of the thing, and his hands ball into fists while the teens rummage through the chest.

Susie eventually pulls out an inflatable pool toy with a unicorn that says ‘princess’.

“Oh my god, look how cute!” she squeals, holding up the toy.

“I bet it's Dweeb's,” Frank smirks smugly.

That's it, he's going down—

“You take that back!” David snarls, stepping forward aggressively.

“David, please!” Dwight protests.

“Yeah, can you guys not?” Julie sighs, rolling her eyes while procuring a pair of sunglasses from the chest.

“No one's impressed by this alpha male bullshit,” Quentin agrees.

“Not my fault this cocksucker can't take a joke—” Franks starts.

“Yer the one who's too much of a pussy to fight!” David accuses. “Let's go, right now!”

“Guys!” Joey yells. “If you really wanna butt heads, how about we play for it instead?” he asks, grabbing a volley ball from the trunk. “Our team versus yours. Winner gets bragging rights.”

“Oh, we're totally in! Right guys?” Steve, predictably, is all over the game.

David frowns. It's been years since he's played beach volley, but how hard can it be? Especially compared to his scrawny opponent; Frank probably hasn't done a day of sports in his life.

“Fine,” he spits.

“Fine,” Frank smirks.

“I'm in,” Quentin offers.

“Come on, Suz," Julie offers.

“You know I suck at sports!” the girl whines, but obediently goes to stand with the group.

Still missing one member for their teams to be even, everyone looks at Dwight.

“M-m-me!?” he squeaks.

Frank looks like he's about to say something, but is interrupted by Joey shoving the net into his arms.

“Come help me set this shit up,” Joey says with a pointed look and Frank rolls his eyes and complies.

Huh. Maybe that Joey guy isn't so terrible.

“Yeah, who else? Ace?” Steve is doing his best to encourage Dwight. “He’d probably throw his back out or something.”

“I heard that!” the gambler calls from his lazing around spot.

“And I'm sure you're better than you realize!” Steve continues, ignoring the comment.

“But I've never played,” Dwight says, still hesitant.

“You'll pick it up in no time,” Quentin encourages. “You don't even have to do much, we'll cover for you.”

“I don't know…”

“Pleeeaaase?” Steve whines and even pouts, clearly pulling out all the stops. “We really wanna play and if you don't we won't have enough players."

Dwight looks at David, and David does his best to give an encouraging smile.

“Come on, mate,” he says. “You’ll have fun, promise.”

That’s a lie, but David just really wants Dwight to be there to witness him kicking Frank's ass.

“Okay,” Dwight finally relents, looking away from David with a sigh.

Steve cheers loudly and soon enough, they’ve joined the Legion who have finished setting up the net and the game can begin.

It turns out the teams are surprisingly even. Steve and Joey are the best players by far, managing difficult serves, covering for the others and even extending to get shots David didn't even think possible.

Quentin and Julie aren't far behind in skill, not having the precision of their respective team captains but still succeeding in keeping the ball in play.

David likes to think he's better than Frank, but neither of them are doing too well, missing shots that should have hit and even causing the ball to fly out of bounds.

Dwight and Susie are the worst by far, with Dwight landing wet noodle passes at best and mostly just trying to stay out of the way. Susie is nearly actively sabotaging her team, squealing and covering her head if it looks like Steve or Quentin are going for a particularly rough hit.

Steve looks to be enjoying himself thoroughly, and David thinks he tones down some of his shots to prolong the game and give the others a chance. Quentin on the other hand is surprisingly competitive, often aiming for Susie's corner which is their opponent's weak link.

David mostly focuses his efforts on aiming at Frank's face, and from the way the teen keeps snarling and glaring at him, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

The Legion eventually turning against each other is kind of funny.

“Jesus, Frank, you suck ass,” Julie complains, watching the ball fly over the line when Frank hits it at a weird angle.

“I mean I’m not surprised that you guys know how to handle balls,” Frank snarks. “Personally, it’s not something I’d be proud of.”

“Then why did you spend three years practicing basketball?” Susie jokes, making her leader fume.

The survivors' camaraderie on the other hand is high, even as the scores are neck-to neck and adrenaline is running high. Steve takes every opportunity to encourage Dwight when he fails, and Quentin commends him when he makes a good play.

It should maybe make David jealous, but he's just happy to see Dwight smile and enjoy himself. He wishes he had the tact of the two to praise him too, feeling way more comfortable with showing off his athletic skill than actually talking to Dwight.

“Shit—” Steve dives into the sand and barely manages to save the ball after a particularly nasty serve from Julie. He doesn't get a clean hit, and the ball swerves a curve to the left instead of to the right where David was prepared to set it up, narrowly missing Quentin's head.

And then Dwight comes out of nowhere, managing to redirect the ball back into play, and David is so fucking excited he nearly misses the hit, but thankfully manages to get it over the net and Susie doesn't even seem to try to stop it.

“Go Dwight!” she cheers.

“Nice work, dude!" Steve whoops, spitting some sand from his mouth.

“I, uh,” Dwight is clearly flustered.

“That's what I'm talkin' about!” David encourages, smacking Dwight on the back and causing him to stumble forward.

"T-thanks,” Dwight smiles nervously.

“You done kissing ass?” Frank snarks, glaring at Susie.

“Yup, now we're gonna kick yours,” Quentin shoots back.

“Come on guys, 18 to 20! We can do this!” Steve encourages, and everyone gets back into position.

Julie serves again, and Quentin catches it. They get the ball over easily, and Joey raises it. Julie is in position to set it up it, and Frank jumps into the air, and David just hopes he misses the shot—

The ball whizzes past Steve and Quentin in front, and it's going way too hard to land within bounds, so that’s a free point for them—

But then David realizes the trajectory it's on, and time seems to slow down to a crawl as it hits Dwight square in the face with a sickening smack.

And David sees red.

When he comes to, he's on top of a struggling Frank and there are arms trying to restrain him from behind. The voices sound faraway and muddled because of the overwhelming sound of blood rushing in his ears. His arms are held back, so he headbutts Frank instead, and feels a sick sense of glee when he hears the crunch and Frank yelping out a curse.

“That’s enough, man! Cut it out!” a voice he doesn't recognize cuts through the haze, and David snarls, elbowing whoever it is in the gut. The restraint against his left hand gives way, and he's about to shrug out of the hold, ready to beat the living shit out of Frank—

And then he takes a bucketful of sea water to the face and it's fucking cold bloody hell—

“Merda—would you behave for two fucking seconds!?” Ace is yelling at them, angry for being disturbed again, a telling empty bucket in his hands.

The shock from the cold is the only thing that makes David resist the urge to redirect his anger in the form of his fist meeting the gambler's face.

“Steve, take David to cool off and punch a palm tree of something,” Ace commands like a frustrated mother. “And you three, make sure Frank doesn't do something stupid… well, stupider. Quentin, you’re helping me clean Dwight’s face.”

At the mention of Dwight, David snaps out of it and anxiously starts looking around to search for the man in question, soon noticing Quentin crouched by him and Susie anxiously fluttering nearby.

Seeing Dwight's bloody face breaks his heart, but luckily their leader seems to only have a nosebleed, even if the blood running down his face looks kind of gruesome. David hopes he didn't break his nose.

His anger threatens to bubble up again; if Frank ruined that pretty face—

“Okay big guy, let's go!” Steve apparently notices his shift in mood and is quick to drag him off.

David half-heartedly tries to protest but Steve isn’t letting up, and David follows him to the treeline just to get him to shut up.

Steve finds some coconuts and David takes the opportunity to punch one as hard as he can, pretending it’s Frank’s face. His knuckles sting and will probably bruise but it’s worth it, the loud crunch as the shell splits open making him smirk smugly.

When they get back to the others, Steve carrying a lapful of coconuts and David flexing his sprained hand but otherwise successfully calmed down, the others seem to be faring better too. Dwight’s face is a lot less bloody and he’s smiling shakily to something Ace says while holding what has to be a cold towel to his nose. The Legion are huddled near their leader, who’s slowly bruising cheek seems to be making him pout. Even if Joey is holding back snickers, Susie is trying to encourage Frank and Julie is patting him on the back in solidarity, proving that despite their bickering, the group does seem to care for each other.

“Hey, Frank,” David suddenly catches Quentin’s voice and sees a smug smile on the teen’s lips from where he’s approaching the killers. “I bet you can't swim.”

“Can too!” the gang’s leader says, predictably taking the bait and his pout immediately replaced by a defiant smirk. “Wanna race?”

When Quentin just clicks his tongue, pretending to be in thought, David knows Frank is in for a humiliation.

“Sure,” Quentin says, not giving anything away.

David eagerly waits for the two to get in position, a little jealous of how readily they get into the cold ocean water with barely a shiver. Steve gives a countdown, and then they’re off, Quentin effortlessly taking the lead and Frank falling further and further behind.

David doesn't feel the slightest bit bad for laughing, eager for the bastard to get any form of payback. Sadly, it doesn't really have the same impact when the rest of the Legion join in to make fun of their leader.

“You go, Franky!” Julie fake cheers between wheezes.

“Nice doggy paddle!” Joey laughs.

“You can still beat him! …If he drowns?” Susie tries to encourage.

After the race, Steve asks David for his help with cracking the coconuts, and even though David really just wants to talk to Dwight he can’t help but puff up his chest and flex a little from the teen obviously seeing him as the strongest of the group.

Later, the sun is already starting to set and David’s knuckles are even more bruised than before. The pain doesn’t bother him and the physical strain of the day has made him mellow out more than usual. When he notices Dwight sitting by himself by the shoreline, he finally gathers the courage to go talk to the man alone.

It looks like a day in the sun has done wonders for the group, lazy chatter and quiet laughter coming from friend and foe alike, scattered around the beach.

The girls have apparently ended up hanging out with Ace, Susie even wearing the gambler’s ugly shirt to protect herself from the now chilly ocean breeze.

“—and the Oktoberfest outfit, with the undercut? Swoon,” Julie says, doing a fake fainting motion into Susie’s lap, and Ace laughs and Susie giggles and bloody hell, are they still talking about Felix?

A bit further away, Steve and Joey are passing the volley ball in good camaraderie. David catches the end of a silly joke from Steve followed by snorting laughter from Joey, and it does kind of make sense that they’d befriend each other.

In the water, Quentin is still swimming while Frank lounges in the swim ring, taunting him. That is, until Quentin flips the ring and laughs, and Frank splutters and flails and hangs onto it like a lifeline.

David finally reaches Dwight, who doesn’t seem to notice him arriving, staring out over the horizon and looking to be deep in thought.

“Hey,” David makes his presence known, and as soon as those gorgeous brown eyes turn to look at him in surprise, the stupid nerves at the pit of David’s stomach resurface.

“Hi,” Dwight says with a small, tired smile. “Has everyone finally calmed down?”

A pang of guilt shoots through David’s chest at the words, recognizing his own part in creating most of the drama of the day. If he’d behaved himself, maybe Dwight wouldn’t have ended up hurt.

“Yeah,” David says, offering an apologetic grin. “Everyone seems ta be gettin’ along. Never thought I’d see the day we’d be hangin’ out with killers.”

“Hmm,” Dwight hums in though, turning back to watch the sunset. “Some of them are not that different from us.”

Seeing Dwight so calm and rational, David feels even worse for his numerous temper tantrums. He just wanted to protect Dwight.

“’M sorry ‘bout yer nose,” David sighs as he sits down next to the man.

“You didn’t do anything,” Dwight reassures. “I was just… wrong place, wrong time.”

“If I didn’t egg the wank—Frank on, it wouldn’t ‘a happened,” David argues, doing his best to swallow his resentment for the teen in question.

“It’s okay,” Dwight says, offering him a genuine smile. “I know you were just trying to stick up for us.”

David wants to come clean, to say everything he did was for Dwight, even if it only made things worse in the end. But no matter how much of a bravado he usually puts on, David knows he’s a real fucking pussy when it comes to emotions.

“Yeah,” he agrees like an utter coward.

“Thank you,” Dwight says anyway, smiling serenely like the absolute angel that he is, ready to forgive all of David’s dumb mistakes.

It suddenly hits him that Dwight always seems way more calm when they’re alone together, a stark contrast to him fidgeting and tripping over his words when they’re in a group and he’s put on the spot. Conversely, David’s confidence seems to fly out of the window as soon as he’s left alone with Dwight, desperately trying to appear casual while his heart does its best to beat out of his chest.

For some reason, Dwight enjoys and maybe even thrives in his company, and David in turn has never met anyone so understanding of his anger issues. He knows they’d be so good for each other—

Fuck it.

“Actually,” David starts, swallowing a lump in his throat but forcing himself to push through the embarrassment. “I didn’t do it fer them. I wanted to protect you.”

Dwight’s cute face twists in confusion, and David tries his best to keep unwavering eye contact despite wanting nothing more than to run away from the situation and his feelings.

“Oh,” Dwight finally says, and David thinks he catches the beginning of a blush before he averts his eyes. “I guess I am kinda weak, haha.”

“The hell ya are,” David argues. Damn, that’s not what he was going for at all, why is he so fucking bad at this— “Yer smart and determined an’ I really admire that about ya. Yer the best leader we could’a asked for, an’ even though ya don’t need protectin’, I just…”

David falters. He was doing so well, even managing to not put his foot in his mouth, but this is it. If he confesses his feelings, there’s no going back.

He looks up and meets Dwight’s eyes, and as soon as he sees the man who stole his heart look up at him with such blatant hope, he knows he has to try.

“I just care about ya,” he settles on.

Dwight swallows and his eyes search David’s face, and David doesn’t even dare breathe—

“Like… like a friend…?” Dwight croaks out, his voice now unsure and shaky, but he’s not looking away.

“Nah,” David says, shaking his head for emphasis. “Never saw ya as just a mate.”

Dwight’s cheeks flare red and he ducks his head, but David catches the dopey little grin before it disappears from his view.

“I—um, wow,” Dwight chuckles, fidgeting with his hands and not quite seeming to know how to react.

“Whaddaya say, luv?” David pushes, resisting the urge to pull the adorable geek into his arms and snog him silly. “Wanna do this?”

Fuck, hopefully he’s not being too forward. Dwight doesn’t seem like the type to have had plenty of relationship experience, but then again neither has David. Usually, he only had to flex a bit after one of his fights and wait for a bird or bloke to stroll up and make it clear they fancied him.

But those were easier times, and now he’s in a strange world within another dimension with a ragtag group of friends and confessing to a man he’s fallen for harder than he ever thought possible.

“Of course I want to do this,” Dwight mutters, sounding almost offended as he finally looks up at him with a smile. “I just never thought you’d go for someone like me.”

“Wha’, someone as perfect as you?” David smirks, nudging Dwight in the ribs with his elbow and causing a cute chuckle to escape the other’s lips. “Don’t sell yourself short, luv; I got high standards.”

“If you say so,” Dwight relents.

Despite Dwight self-consciously covering the cute rolls on his tummy with his arms, his smile is the brightest David has ever seen. They stare into each other’s eyes in silence, David with a dumb grin and Dwight with a bashful smile, and David feels so stupid that he didn’t see it before.

“Gonna give me a kiss?” David’s mouth says without his permission, the filter between his mouth and brain even more flimsy than usual because of the fluttering in his gut.

“I m-mean, my face is pretty busted up," Dwight stutters and turns his face away. “You probably don’t want to—I look even worse than usual, haha.”

“Bollocks,” David scoffs, leaning to nudge his forehead against Dwight’s temple. “Yer the cutest thing I ever seen.”

Dwight glances at him but still looks unsure, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in a nervous habit.

“We don’t gotta if ya don’t wanna,” David reassures. “But don’t hold back on my behalf—”

And that’s all he has time to say before a surprisingly eager mouth crashes against his own, the rest of his sentence muffled against Dwight’s lips.

Wholeheartedly on board with the sudden turn of events, David’s arms wrap around Dwight as of their own accord while he hurries to reciprocate. Dwight’s lips are chapped but so incredibly warm, and the enthusiasm with which he goes at it is making David’s heart swell—

“Shit,” there’s a pained hiss against his lips when Dwight tilts his head and bumps their noses together.

“Easy, luv,” David murmurs, tilting his head at more of an angle to avoid Dwight’s injury. He gently coaxes the inviting lips right back in and Dwight makes a sound of approval low in his throat.

Every fantasy David has had about this moment can’t compare to the real deal. Granted, his imagination has always been kind of shit, and there was no way he could have pictured just how amazing it is to kiss Dwight and how perfect he feels in David’s arms. He tastes a tinge of blood when he licks into Dwight’s mouth, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, if anything it just eggs him on—

A loud wolf whistle carrying over the beach suddenly reminds him that they’re not alone.

Dwight pulls away much faster than David, turning to face their companions with a sheepish grin and a deep flush, while David lazily turns around to glower at the group.

Steve is still whistling from where he’s joined Ace and the girls, not threatened by David in the slightest. Then, to his annoyance, Julie starts clapping sarcastically and Susie hides her giggles into her friend’s shoulder.

“Ugh, finally!” Ace comments, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation, making David redirect his glare to the gambler.

“What,” David barely hears Quentin’s incredulous voice mutter nearby, still swimming with Frank and with Joey now having joined them.

“Uh. Congrats,” Joey offers, giving them an awkward thumbs up.

Frank, predictably, says nothing, only scoffing in disgust. Which, to be honest, is much more polite than David would have reacted if the roles were reversed.

“What are you—when did you—?” Quentin keeps going, looking so confused it makes even David snort out a half-laugh.

“Well, at least someone didn’t figure it out before these two idiots,” Ace sighs melodramatically.

“Seriously, doesn’t take a genius to notice them eye fucking each other all the time,” Steve grins, and holy hell, David really has been living under a rock if even Steve had figured out Dwight’s feelings before him.

He tunes out the others’ teasing as soon as a warm hand gently grabs his.

“Come on,” Dwight encourages with a playful smile. “Let’s go get it over with.”

His mood instantly elevating, David pulls them to their feet and rejoins their friends with his hand still clasped in Dwight’s. There’s some good-natured banter on their expense but that’s to be expected, and even though David half-heartedly threatens to clock Ace in the face for a questionable joke, he feels calmer than he has in years.

Dwight doesn’t leave his side for the entirety of their remaining time on the beach or when they’re teleported back to the campfire. And even if they have to go through the playful teasing and looks of disbelief a second time, David takes it in stride because he has the person he always wanted right by his side.

It takes way too long to get a moment alone from their nosy friends, but eventually, David manages to pull Dwight away from the camp to pick up where they left off at the beach, this time uninterrupted.

When Dwight breaks the kiss only to look up at David, with his bruised nose and some wetness in his eyes, murmuring that this is the best day of his life, David can’t help but agree.

[winchester19-67]

A Fresh Start - Part 1

Pairing: Single Parent!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Grumpy Dean, Fluff

Word Count: 2,219

Square Filled: Single Parent AU (Fluff Bingo)

Square Filled: Single Parent AU (Genre Bingo)

A/N: This is Part 1 of A Fresh Start. This was written for @spnfluffbingo​ and @spngenrebingo​.

Series Masterlist

"Hey, get back here!" Dean hollers as he chases the light-headed little boy across the living room. Squeals echo throughout the space as Dean catches up to and picks up the energetic toddler. "C'mere, rugrat. You gotta get your shirt on before the babysitter gets here. Hopefully you don't run this one off like you did the last two," Dean says as he sits down onto the couch and settles his son in his lap.

"Cooper, be still," Dean says as he tries to wrestle the little boy's arm into the small sleeve. "There," Dean sighs as he stands up off the couch. "Finally." Cooper giggles, and Dean makes a face at him. "You're not funny," Dean says, earning him the sound of laughter in return right in his ear. "Yeah, laugh it up," Dean tells Cooper as he carries him into the kitchen to grab his sippy cup. Dean hands the juice to Cooper who greedily grabs the cup and begins sucking it dry.

"Hey, slow down there, buddy," Dean tells him. "Don't get choked." Dean hears the doorbell ring, and he takes a deep breath before looking over at Cooper.

"There she is," Dean says as he begins carrying Cooper over to the front door. Dean can only hope that this babysitter works out better than the last two whom apparently couldn't handle a fifteen-month-old. When one of the neighbors told Dean that they knew someone who could help and that they would even call her for him, he jumped at the offer.

"Alright, now listen," Dean says as he settles Cooper into a more comfortable position on his hip. "It would really help me out a lot if you try not to scare this babysitter off on the first day, alright?" Dean puts his hand on the doorknob before looking at his son again. "So I'd better not have another woman come running to me telling me what a little nightmare that you are." Dean gets a wide smile in return and he chuckles. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Dean opens the front door, and he smiles at the person standing on his front porch.

"Hi, I'm Dean Winchester, I..." Dean trails off when he sees her face, and his eyes widen a little bit. "(Y/N)?"

Your heart drops when you see whose front porch you're standing on, and you swallow hard. "So you're the guy who I'm supposed to be babysitting for?"

"Looks that way," Dean says. "Never mind. You can leave."

"From what I hear, you're pretty desperate."

"Yeah, but not this desperate," Dean says. He makes a face and shakes his head a bit. "I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"I know what you meant," you reply. You point to the little boy in Dean's arms and smile at him. "He yours?"

"Yeah," Dean smiles. "This is Cooper. Hey, buddy, why don't you say 'hi?'" Cooper shakes his head and hides his face in Dean's neck.

"Shy. Got it."

"No, actually, he's just being rotten this morning for some reason," Dean replies. "He's usually very energetic and wild and not shy at all."

"So are you just going to make me stand here on your porch all day, or..."

"You can go home," Dean tells you.

"Dean look. You need a babysitter. I need the money. This doesn't have to be that awkward."

"(Y/N), what happened..."

"Let's not talk about that," you tell Dean as you hold a hand up to stop him. "Let's put our past aside for right now and pretend that none of that never happened for the time being."

"Okay," Dean says reluctantly.

"So, do you still work at the garage downtown?”

"No," Dean shakes his head. "Things happened. I got fired. I’m self-employed now and working out of my own garage.

“You work here at your own house?”

"Yeah," Dean shrugs. "Works for right now. Why? Is there a problem?"

"No," you reply quickly. "I didn't mean anything bad by that, Dean. I just thought that you'd have your own garage opened by now. You know, a bigger building where you can do more that isn't attached to your house."

"Yeah, well, it's like I said earlier. Crap happened," Dean replies. "Now, this doesn't change anything. Just because I'm a few feet away doesn't mean that you come running to me when every little thing goes wrong. If that's gonna happen, I might as well just try to watch Cooper by myself. You need to know where something's at, you look for it and find it yourself. You come get me if there's an emergency but nothing short of."

"I got it."

"Cooper is to stay out of that garage at all costs," Dean continues. "I mean it. You do whatever it takes to keep him inside this house and away from where I'm working. There's no forgiveness there. He gets out of your sight and makes his way into my workspace one time, you're out of here."

"Okay," you reply.

"If little man knows that I'm out there, he'll do anything to get out to that garage with me. That's how we lost the last two babysitters."

"Gave them a run for their money?" you smile. "Sounds like his Daddy."

Dean laughs and nods a bit at you before clearing his throat and getting serious once more. "You can come in," Dean tells you as he moves out of the doorway. You step into the house and look around a bit.

"Wow. Your wife keeps this place really clean for you to have a toddler running around."

"I'm not married," Dean says.

"Oh, I didn't mean..."

"I'm never sure what time I'll be in. I'm done working when I get done," Dean says quickly, obviously wanting to change the previous subject. "I realize that it's a bit of an unpredictable schedule, but I try to never work past five. I'll pay you by the hour and it'll be double on the days that Avery’s here.”

“Avery?”

"My little girl," Dean replies.

"Any other kids whom you're forgetting to tell me about?"

"No," Dean smiles a bit. "Her and Coop are the only two."

"How old is she?"

"Five," Dean replies. "She'll be here most days but she's at Sam's right now. She'll try to be the little boss when she's here, but she means well. It's a lot easier to get her to mind than it is Cooper. Raise your voice at her and she'll be in tears for hours. Cooper will just stare at me and try to mock me usually. He's a handful."

"Like I said, just like his Daddy," you tease.

"You have my permission to take them anywhere. Park. Store. Wherever you need to go. If you ever have to buy anything for one of them, leave me a note and I'll reimburse you for it."

"Not one for small talk. Got it."

"You are not here for small talk, (Y/N). You are here to watch after my kids," Dean tells you. "If you don't agree, then you can walk out that front door right now."

"Sorry," you say softly. "Anything else I should know?"

"I'll pay you at the end of every week, but if you need the money before then you tell me," Dean says. "Today is a trial. If things prove to be too much for you to handle, or too awkward for either of us, this will be your only day here. I think that pretty much covers just about everything. Any questions?"

"No," you reply as you shake your head at Dean. "You can step down out of Dad mode now."

"I never step out of Dad mode," Dean says as he begins to hand Cooper over to you.

"No," Cooper whines as he wraps his little arms tightly around Dean's neck.

"Hey, buddy, I gotta go to work now and you have to stay here with (Y/N)," Dean says softly as he presses a kiss to the top of Cooper's head. "I'm sorry if I'm a little gruff," Dean says as you take the boy out of his arms. "But under normal circumstances I would've told you to go home when I found out that it was you. But, it's like you said. I am desperate."

"That makes me feel so much better," you say sarcastically.

Dean sighs. "Look, (Y/N). I already know you. Which means that I know whether I can trust you with my kids or not. The fact that I even let you into my house means that you have my trust, but that doesn't erase what's happened in the past. I can look past it all for the sake of my kids, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to treat you like anything more than the babysitter."

"I bet that you treated all of the other babysitters as human beings," you tell him. Dean just glares at you for a moment before giving his head a slight shake.

"I'm heading out," Dean informs you as he turns to walk away. "It's like I said. This is no different than if I were working away from home. You don't get me for any reason unless it's an absolute emergency."

"I got it, Dean," you tell him, just wanting nothing more than for him to go away now. Dean nods once before walking off towards the kitchen and out the garage door.

"Daddy," Cooper whines as he reaches his little arms out in the direction that Dean left in.

"He's at work now, little buddy," you tell Cooper as you begin gently bouncing him in your arms. "Come on. Let's go see if we can find something to do for a while." ~~~~~

You have just gotten Cooper down for a nap when someone walks through the front door. You walk down the stairs, stopping in your tracks when you see who’s standing there in the living room.

"(Y/N)?" Sam says, his eyes widening when he sees you. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the babysitter now, apparently," you tell him.

"Seriously?" Sam asks. "After everything that Dean did to you, he thinks that he still has the right to ask you for help?"

"Well, he didn't exactly know that it was going to be showing up on his doorstep," you tell him. "Anyways, that's the past, Sam. He needs help, I need the money."

"Fair enough," Sam nods. You see the little girl hiding behind Sam's legs and you smile at her.

“You must be Avery,” you tell her softly. She gives you a shy nod of her head. "Your Daddy told me that you're five."

"Almost five," she corrects you.

"Oh, when's your birthday?" Avery just shakes her head and tries to hide even more behind Sam.

"Next Friday," Sam tells you before he kneels down in front of Avery. “Listen, I have to go, and you have to stay here with (Y/N)."

"Why?"

"Because she's your babysitter now," Sam answers before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You be a good girl." Sam stands up again and turns to face you. "Dean still out in the garage?"

"As far as I know," you reply.

"I'm gonna go speak to him for a moment, and then I'll be out of your hair."

Avery gasps. “You’re not supposed to be talking to Daddy when he's working."

"He'll get over it," Sam tells her as he ruffles up her hair. "Be good, kiddo." Sam walks off, and Avery looks up at you with wide eyes.

"Your brother is taking a nap right now, so what do you want to do until he wakes up?" you ask her.

Avery looks towards the stairs. "Can I just go to my room and play?"

"Okay," you say softly. Avery runs off, and you head into the kitchen to start lunch.

It takes a couple more hours before Dean walks in through the garage door wiping the grease off of his hands and arms with a rag.

"Were they good?" Dean asks.

"They were," you reply. “Avery’s been in her room most of the time since Sam dropped her off, and Cooper... Well, at least the house is still standing."

"That's a big win with that little rug rat,” Dean tells you. "At least he's quiet."

"I'm pretty sure that he's in a sugar coma right now," you laugh as you look over at the couch where Cooper's completely passed out. "That's the second nap that he's taken today."

"Really?" Dean asks as his eyes widen a bit. "It's usually like pulling teeth to get him down for a nap."

"What can I say? I'm a miracle worker."

"Apparently," Dean says, cracking a small smile before it fades. “I’ll see you at eight?”

"Really?" you ask as your eyes widen a bit. "You mean that you're actually going to let me babysit again?"

"Well, you did everything that I asked so it couldn't hurt," Dean shrugs.

"Dean..."

"Do you want your money now or do you want to wait?"

"I'll wait," you say softly. "But, Dean..."

"You can leave now," he tells you before walking over and picking Cooper up off of the couch.

You sigh and just shake your head, knowing that you're not going to get anywhere with Dean today.

Tags: @deans-baby-momma @ilvetaquitosmmmm @winchestergirl82 @fandomoverdose666 @satans-0-spawn @ofpoetryandlove @vicmc624​ @tranquility-or-chaos​

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 34

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 34 - The Queen’s Wings 

~27 October 2007, early afternoon~

“Aww, you look cuuuuute!” Téa looked at the wedding outfit she, Serenity, and Mai worked hard to make for Weevil. The bug duelist’s colour scheme matched that of Metamorphosed Insect Queen - a royal blue tuxedo, the red tie and white frilled shirt from his Duelist Kingdom days, and an elegant veil resembling the Queen’s wings and crown. “I just wish I could be the maid of honour so I could hold this veil while you walk down the aisle. Mai, you’re so lucky.”

“For what it’s worth, you can be the maid of honour at my wedding,” Mai spoke while she inspected the veil and Serenity put the finishing touches on Weevil’s hair. “I want my veil to look just as amazing as my Harpie Lady’s wings. I just have to wait for that slowpoke Joey to propose already.”

“Yeowch! I’m sorry you’ve had to wait for my blockhead of a brother. ...There.” Serenity put a butterfly pin on the right side of Weevil’s hair. “You’re ready. Should we go, then?”

Weevil got into the front seat of the limo Mai drove while Camellia, Serenity, Téa, Ptera, Tricera, and the other bridesmaids got in the back seats.

But before Mai drove off, Weevil asked, “Hey, where’s Amber?”

“Daddy!” Amber nearly tripped while running to the limo, scattering a few of the flowers she carried in her basket.

“Whoa there, little lady!” Téa caught Amber before she could fall and picked up the flowers she dropped.

“Thank you, Auntie Téa!” Amber hugged Téa’s neck as she brought her in the limo that finally took off. Amber turned to Espa’s 16-month-old daughter, Artemis, and offered her a yellow rose. “Hey, Arte, you want this?”

“Flower! So pretty!” Arte grabbed the stem of the flower with her tiny toddler fingers.

“Aww…” Weevil smiled as he spoke to his daughter. “I picked the perfect flower girl.”

“And your stepcousin Mokuba picked the perfect flowers,” Camellia remarked. “And the perfect limo. And just about everything else.”

“Actually, Spinos picked the flowers. He paid for a good deal of the wedding too, you know.”

“Did he?” Ptera smiled at the thought of her former lover. “That was thoughtful of him.”

“Psst.” Espa leaned slightly forward to awaken Weevil from an apparent nap. “Weevil, we’re here.”

“Hmm… Wha-” Weevil saw everyone else already exiting the limo and making way for the extravagant displays by the famous Domino City T.V. “Thanks for reminding me! I’m glad you decided to ride with us instead of with Rex. Even though you’re a groomsman.”

“I couldn’t help it.” Espa carried Arte out of the limo and, once he met with his brothers, he handed her to the next oldest one. Mako soon joined them with Caesar, their son. “This cutie patootie wanted to ride with her best friend.”

“You’re such an airhead sometimes, Daddy!” Amber giggled as she walked down the aisle while throwing flowers.

“None of that smart mouth, young lady!” Weevil chided while he proceeded down the aisle, with Camellia by his side and Mai holding his veil. 

“Hehehe… She’s just like you when you were that age.” Camellia chuckled. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“You’re literally walking me down the aisle.” Weevil squinted; he could barely see the wedding awning, with lush greenery. “Do you really think this is the best time to reminisce about how I was a troublemaking toddler?”

“Yes, it is.” Camellia cried a little. “I lost eleven years with you… I’m so proud of how far you’ve come since then, my son.”

At the sound of Duke playing the church organs, the ceremony began in earnest, drawing attention from passers-by.

“Hmm?” One of Weevil’s opponents from Duelist Kingdom took notice of the bug duelist. “Oooh, it’s that nasty Weevil Underwood. And he’s… getting married?”

“We might as well stick around to see the unlucky schmuck whom he’s marrying,” replied the kid whom Weevil tricked in Battle City. 

“Mother, I can’t do this! I’ve rehearsed my vows, like, a thousand times and yet I think I’ve forgotten most of them already!” Weevil’s heart raced faster as he could now see his husband-to-be. Rex wore a tuxedo resembling Black Tyranno, and his chestnut locks were tied back with a dinosaur claw hair clip.

“Relax, sweetie,” Camellia reassured as she stepped back, now that her son had reached the T.V. “Remember, you’re the smartest guy in all of Domino City.”

Weevil stammered as he held Rex’s hands, with Mokuba about to start officiating the wedding. “Y-Yo, dude.”

“Pfft…” As best man, Joey stood behind Rex. “‘Smartest guy in all of Domino City,’ huh?”

“Shut up, Joey!” As if Weevil felt nervous enough, Joey’s teasing didn’t make it any better. “Or I just might sneak a caterpillar in your shirt when you get married!”

“Hey.” Rex squeezed Weevil’s hands tighter. “You know how Joey is. Just ignore him.”

“Dear friends, family, and citizens of Domino City,” Mokuba began the ceremony, which by this point had drawn a large crowd. The close friends and family of Rex and Weevil took their seats. The sun looked upon them from directly above, the sunlight glistening off of the awning’s flowers and the variety of insects crawling throughout it. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Rex Leonidas Raptor and Weevil Henry Underwood in marriage. We welcome and thank each and every one of you for being a part of this wonderful occasion. As with their careers as duelists, their journey as a married couple will test and bring out the best in them. And just like their latest careers as duelists, they will face trials and tribulations, but always come out strong in the end. You are all gathered here because you have helped these two young men and have a bond with them, one way or another. As for me, I couldn’t be more proud that my cousin, Rex, has chosen me to officiate his wedding. The grooms have each prepared vows that they will recite now.”

“M-My turn!” Weevil piped up, much to the surprise of all. “I don’t need to rehearse to let all of Domino City know just how much I love you. I don’t need to rehearse to remember how united we are in our desire for revenge against several duelists. Particularly Yugi, Atem, and ESPECIALLY Joey.”

“ESPECIALLY me, huh?” Joey couldn’t help but laugh again. 

“Spoken like a true duelist,” Yugi spoke to his former other self.

“You said it, partner,” replied Atem.

“Aw, heck, Rex. I’ve prepared a handwritten speech for my salutatorian address. But on this day, I want to speak from the heart. Even now, I am still in awe that a ‘dung beetle’ like me is worthy of your love. While everyone in this city hated me, you were the only one to show me love all those years ago. Even after I went mad and tried to kill you, you still loved me. I am so grateful that we have found each other, and I vow to love you forever.”

“See? What did I tell you?”  Camellia winked.

“I bet I can outdo that. ” Rex smirked.

“Go ahead and try, dino brain.”

“Gladly, bug boy.” Rex took a deep breath before beginning his vows. “I am thankful for all the blessings we have, not the least of which is our adorable daughter Ambrosia. If not for Mai and her expertise, we wouldn’t have such a bundle of joy.”

“Aww, you’re too kind, Rex.” Mai sat next to Amber and Téa.

“Yet I haven’t always been kind; I’ll be the first to admit that I’m still as arrogant as they come. But several people have made me appreciate friendship more - not the least of whom is you, Weeves. You were my first friend, and I couldn’t be happier that we made that same dumb mistake of showing up to regionals prelims a day early.” This tale elicited several giggles from the crowd’s members, even from those who were not explicitly invited. “I had no idea that from there, I would quickly fall in love with that rich boy I met, and that he would be the man I swear my eternal love to on this day. Waiting those three years to confess my love was so worth it.”

“Hehe…” Weevil laughed in his signature way. “I think I win.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Even at the altar, you guys are still rivals. Let’s just say you both win.” Mokuba chuckled. “Now, will the ring bearer present the rings?”

“I think you’ll like who I chose for the ring bearer,” spoke Rex.

Between the husbands-to-be and in front of Mokuba stood a tan-skinned boy with spiky brown hair, red-violet eyes, and traditional ancient Egyptian garb. He can’t be older than two, Weevil reckoned. It can’t be… It’s Heka!

“As we begin the declaration of intent, I would like for each groom to place a ring on his partner’s finger. Rex Leonidas Raptor, do you take Weevil Henry Underwood as your lawfully-wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Rex took the new ring - a rose-gold one with a thin sapphire band in the middle - and put it on Weevil’s left ring finger.

“And do you, Weevil Henry Underwood, take Rex Leonidas Raptor to be your lawfully-wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” The wedding ring Weevil gave Rex was similar to his engagement ring, but had two thin bands of dinosaur bone inlay.

The dinosaur duelist wore this new ring on his left ring finger, complementing the one he wore on his right ring finger. “You spend too much money on jewelry, bug boy.”

“If there are any objections to this union, speak now or forever hold your piece.”

“Who would object to these two cutie pies?” Joey noted.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t do anything about it,” mumbled the kid who got his Dark Ruler Ha Des stolen all those years ago.

“Then by the power vested in me - Mokuba Kaiba, president and CEO of Kaiba Corporation - I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the husband.”

“There’s that pretty face.” Rex lifted Weevil’s veil from his face.

“Come here, you Jurassic jerk!” Weevil seized Rex by the waist, tiptoeing slightly to kiss his new husband.

“I now present to you, Domino City, Mr. and Mr. Rex and Weevil Raptor!”

“So, the runner-up and champion of regionals got hitched, and with each other, no less,” Rex’s opponent at regional semifinals mused while Duke played “Sexyback” on the organ. “Who’d have thunk it?”

“I gotta admit that I kind of started shipping them after Raptor’s regional loss,” spoke the Battle City kid.

“ Which Raptor are you talking about, me or him?” Weevil overheard the boys.

“Um…” The boys were at a loss for words.

“Anyway…” Weevil held up his bouquet, full of peonies and red roses. “I’m wondering who will get lucky today.”

“Me, that’s who.” Mai brushed her hair back. “Then you’ll have to propose to me, Joey.”

“Nah, I’ll get it!” Téa declared as the bouquet flew in the air.

“Ladies, ladies…” Duke stepped forward. “You’re all wrong. I’ll-”

“Actually, you’re the wrong one, Duke.” Mako showed everyone the bouquet he just caught. “Looks like I’ll be getting married soon.”

“Aww…” Duke smiled. “Congrats, dude.”

“And I know just who it is I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Mako looked to Rex and Weevil, as if asking for permission, and the newlywed couple consented.

“M-Mako?” Espa’s eyes widened when Mako knelt in front of him, revealing a ring with a giant blue diamond encircled by several small green ones. “Oh… my gosh…”

“That is, if this cute psychic will say yes to my proposal.”

“Yes! Of course I do, Mako!” Espa continued to cry as his new fiancé put the ring on his finger.

“Yay!” Caesar hugged his mother’s legs. “I love you, Papa!”

“You… You guys…” Espa hugged Mako and their children.

“There’s still a lot of party left, you two.” Rex had to wipe his own tears of joy. “You’re all invited to the reception at the Grand Domino City Hotel. Naturally, there will be lots of dueling rooms there, and suites for the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and our families. So you know what that means.”

“It means I’ll squish the new Mr. Raptor?” Joey challenged.

“No, it means I’ll squish you. ” Weevil cracked his knuckles.

“I thought I was the one you were after?”

“Yes, you too, Atem. See you there.” And with that, Rex and Weevil got in the back seat of the wedding motorcade.

“Ah, there’s the happy couple,” spoke the driver as he started the ignition. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Both young men exclaimed at once.

“Wait…” Weevil squinted to get a better look at the driver. “Bakura?”

“My friends call me Ryou, but whatever floats your boat.”

The bandit king wasn’t kidding when he said he’d attend! Weevil thought, and the trio arrived at the hotel to find that the partying had already begun. But...

Rex noticed the pensive look in his husband’s face, even while they walked to the dining room, to which Tricera and Ptera hauled the wedding cake they made. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Weevil shook off whatever confusing thoughts he was having, and instead diverted his attention to lighthearted conversations with people he once called enemies. After lunch, he took the cake cutting knife from Tricera and grabbed Rex’s hands. “Give me a hand, will ya? And don’t you dare make a ‘short-handed’ joke about my prosthetic arm.”

“You’ve already taken mine, pinworm!” Rex had a small bite of the cake before offering some to Kaiba and Atem, whom he barely even noticed. “Here you go.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Atem offered Heka some cake before eating it himself.

“Um… I’m good for now,” Kaiba insisted as he rubbed his belly. “I haven’t felt hungry all day, but I’m sure I will later.”

“Hopefully there will be a later.” Rex watched Amber, Arte, and Heka chase each other in the dining hall. Atem tried to prevent Heka from using his newfound magic on anyone. Mako and Espa weren’t as successful at containing their own children; Arte could already bend spoons with her mind, and Caesar could be seen swimming butterfly in the nearby gym pool. 

“Ugh.” Espa whined. Caesar beat a high schooler in a short race, baring purple shark fangs in victory. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk me into a water birth, Mako. Both of our kids have shown their shapeshifter abilities already.”

“Caesar looks so much like my dad…” Mako beamed while he watched his son. “I’ll be darned if he grows up to be a better swimmer and fisherman than me.”

It took the intervention of all of Espa’s brothers to get the prodigious twins to stop. “I’ll give you one thing, our kids are already proving to be smarter than I was at that age.”

“Psst, hun.” Weevil whispered to Rex while Kaiba was distracted playing with Heka.

“What?” Rex spoke with a mouthful of cake.

“Why are Kaiba and Atem here at 22 years old, when just a couple of years ago, they were here at 37 years old? Do they even remember who we are?”

“Is that what you were confused about this afternoon? Please.” Rex took his and Weevil’s dishes to the dishwasher. “Haven’t I told you it’s better to not think so much?”

“You’re right.” Holding Rex by the hand, Weevil approached Kaiba and Atem. “Dueling speaks louder than words.”

_______

~16:00~

“Kaiba?” Rex looked past his Ultimate Conductor Tyranno and at his cousin. It was Kaiba’s turn, and Rex and Weevil were clearly winning the tag duel. “You don’t look so good. If you had told me, I-”

“How dare you underestimate Seto Kaiba? I reveal my trap Raigeki Break to destroy your Ultimate Conductor Tyranno!”

“Naw, that trap won’t be doing nothing. Not if my Jurassic Heart can help it. ...Anything else?”

“I… end my turn…” Kaiba clearly wanted to leave, but had too much pride to simply throw the match. “By the way, it’s ‘won’t be doing anything. ’ Learn proper grammar, rabbit stew.”

“Then I’ll end it quickly,” Weevil proclaimed. “I activate my Armored Bee’s special ability to cut your Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon’s attack points in half, then I’ll go in for the kill with my Battlewasp - Halberd the Charge!”

“So you’ve finally gotten your revenge on me, Weevil.” Atem clapped after he and Kaiba had lost. “Well done. What did you think of them- Huh? Kaiba, where are you going?”

Kaiba said nothing as he ran for the nearest loo. Right as he did, Joey walked up to Weevil, clearly wanting a duel from him. “Say, what happened to rich boy?”

Before Atem could follow after the Egyptian queen, Rex offered, “I’ll go check on him for you, Atem. You can cheer on your buddy Joey. He’ll need it.”

“Oh, I don’t think I will.” Joey climbed onto one of the dueling platforms. “But I would certainly love for Atem to see me squash this mosquito personally.”

“Bring it on!” were Weevil’s last words that Rex heard before making way for the loo Kaiba entered.

“Hey, Kaiba?” It didn’t take Rex long to find Kaiba and the loo he very loudly threw up into. “I was going to ask if you’re okay, but you’re clearly not.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” With nothing left to throw up, Kaiba sat on the loo and pouted. “Anything else?”

Rex fished around in his pants pockets. “I was going to save this for myself, but I think you need it more.”

“What’s this?” Kaiba looked at the small box with the KaibaCorp logo Rex gave him; it had two pregnancy tests in it. “So KaibaCorp makes these now? And how bold of you to assume that just because I’m sick, that it means I’m pregnant. And you just so happened to be carrying these around? I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.”

“Just take them, man. Please.”

“Hmph.” Kaiba slammed the stall door shut. “Fine. But just so you know, this is a waste of time, because I know I’m not pregnant.” About three minutes later, Kaiba opened the stall without looking up at Rex.

“So? How’d it go?” Rex asked. Kaiba only showed him the pregnancy tests in response; they both showed the word “pregnant” next to the number 16. “Well, well, well. I suppose some congratulations are in order.”

“...I guess I better go tell a few certain individuals the good news, huh?” Kaiba let Rex help him walk a short distance before he could walk on his own. “And Rex?”

“Yeah?”

Kaiba wrapped an arm around his cousin. “Thank you. You’re probably the only one other than Mokuba, the pharaoh, and Heka that I can tolerate.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Rex gave Kaiba a few noogies before parting ways with him. “If you see my husband, tell him he can find me in our hotel suite.”

_________

~17:00~

“Phew…” Weevil hardly broke a sweat winning two duels in a row. But now he wanted nothing more than to take a break from the festivities before dinner, and made way for the hotel suite he rented with Rex. 

Weevil didn’t even have to get his card key before his husband opened the door and, still dressed in his wedding garb, spoke in a sultry voice, “Hey, baby. That was quite a long duel.”

“I wish you could have seen me turn that Joey into bug juice.” Weevil took off his veil and gently put it in the closet before wrapping his arms around Rex. “Amber is in the care of your father right now, so we have all the time to ourselves.” Weevil’s spider “ears” appeared. “And you know damn well what I want you to do to me.”

“Which is precisely why I did… this. ” Rex invited Weevil to come deeper inside the room to see the elaborate honeymoon setup. The first things Weevil noticed were the rose-scented candles planted throughout the room. Red roses floated in the sweet-smelling whirlpool bathtub. The towels next to it were folded in the shape of butterflies and dinosaurs, and had more roses around them. The bed had a spider silk canopy and a comforter with kissing swans on it. “Well, I can’t do art for shit, so the hotel maids folded the towels. But everything else was made by yours truly.”

“So you grew the flowers, too?”

“Aww, come on, bug breath. You know what I mean.”

“You hopeless romantic.” Weevil pinched Rex’s cheek before kissing it. “I could have done better.”

“Please, Weeves…” Rex undid Weevil’s bowtie. “Just this once, can we put aside the competition?”

“That’s rich, coming from you. ” Weevil removed Rex’s hair clip, running his fingers through the chestnut and lavender hair. “By the way, I’m kidding. You did great.”

“Aww, I’m glad!” Rex playfully kissed his husband’s cheeks, but when they got to the bed, his tone turned serious. He hummed into Weevil’s now-bare neckline, “Just so you know, I’m going to make love to you until all our friends downstairs complain about the noise we’re making.”

“Then… Hah…” Weevil completely half-shifted when Rex stripped him of all his clothes. “Then do it…. Or else I will take over.”

“If you rather would be the one on top, then you’re more than welcome to stop me from adoring you.” 

In response, Weevil eagerly tore off Rex’s tuxedo and shirt, while being mindful not to damage the expensive clothes. As soon as he did, Rex half-shifted as well. “Don’t you dare stop, Rex…” Weevil pulled Rex so close to him that their nipples rubbed together. The friction of Rex’s nipples and sweaty, warm body alone nearly brought Weevil to a full erection. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Fuuuuuck…” While leaving hickies all over Weevil’s neck, Rex continued the nipple rubbing. He still occasionally breastfed Amber, so his nipples were especially sensitive. “I’m sorry, Weeves, but this… This just feels too damned good.”

“It does for me too, hun,” Weevil spoke between very deep kisses, getting a good taste of the takoyaki Rex ate a few hours prior. He snuck a hand down, feeling around for Rex’s cock before actually taking a hold of it and pumping it with his own. “And I hope this does also.”

“But you know…” Rex barely arose enough to be able to reach for a bottle of lube on the nightstand. “ This will make it even better. It’s a special lube that will arouse us more and make our orgasms more intense.”

“Oh, yeah?” Weevil let Rex spread the lube over his nipples and cock. 

“Well, what do you think?” Rex smirked as he continued to pump his and Weevil’s cocks together.

It didn’t take long for Weevil to feel the intensifying effects of the lube. “Oh… yes…”

“It’ll feel even better inside here. ” Rex’s fingers trailed from Weevil’s cock to his opening, which he massaged until Weevil shrieked loudly. “Looks like I’ve found your sweet spot, Weeves.”

“So fucking do something about it!” Weevil could hardly take this pent-up energy anymore.

“What did you think I was going to do?” Rex gave his husband’s ass a good slap before he mounted him. To his astonishment, Weevil grabbed Rex’s cock, guiding it into his opening while he took hold of his shoulders. “Ha- ha! You’re… really that hungry for me, aren’t you?”

“And… it’s not just the lube, either.” Weevil pulled Rex close enough, until Rex could feel his heartbeat running wild. “I… really do want to consummate this marriage.”

“So… do I...” Rex could hardly speak in between breaths as he pulled out, only to slam in again - and again, many times. Already, he knew that both he and his husband were about to come, but loved this sensation too much to let it end so soon. He held the base of Weevil’s cock firmly, caressing the head with his thumb. “So do I, Weeves…”

“L-Let go…” Weevil squeaked out after ten minutes of various sexual positions.

“What was that?” Rex hummed into Weevil’s ear.

“Goddammit, Rex, let me come already!”

Rex said not another word as the second he let go of Weevil’s cock, the both of them came long and hard, while Weevil held one of Rex’s hands to his pounding heart. “Can… Can you tell that I… hah… loved this?”

Rex let their orgasms ride out to completion before he pulled out, holding Weevil’s left hand to his heart, just like he did all those years ago. “Can you tell I loved it too?”

“Damn right I can…” Weevil pulled the comforter over him and curled into Rex, taking in his husband’s natural scent. “I wish I didn’t have biological needs to attend to. I just want to stay here all day, cuddling in bed with the man I just married.”

“For what it’s worth, Mom said she’d have dinner ready for us all in a few hours. And I made sure to specify to everyone that they don’t have to wear formal wear.” Rex looked Weevil in the eyes while stroking his mint green hair and planted a kiss on his forehead. “There will be so many more years of this, so don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

And so began the rest of Rex and Weevil Raptor’s married life together, naturally filled with takoyaki, bee larvae, and a hell of a lot of dueling.

[in-my-head-i-do-everything-right]

Prompt: Basically the entirety of “I wanna be yours” by Arctic Monkeys but more specifically “secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours

secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought. maybe I just wanna be yours

In October, while she’s still riding the high of absolutely demolishing Greg Dewey in mock trial, she finds out that the hot guy who’s always standing outside the library after her 3 PM post mock trial coffee break was the one who said that shitty thing about her sister two years ago while walking out of a debate competition—a competition Allie is ninety percent sure he won, by the way. And sure, he looks hot as fuck leaning against that exposed brick in his Tom Ford coat. Which, arguably is his right. To look hot. But, still.

He said the shitty thing about her sister. Allie’s still a little pissed about that. Which is her right.

“You’re Harry Bingham, right?” she asks, just to make sure. God, his name is so… Waspy. Pure Wasp. Bingham. She’s bets his family came over on the Mayflower. She bets they’re proud of that.

He smirks down at her. Smirks. He literally smirks. “Who’s asking?”

She can’t get over the smirk. Like, is it hot? Yes. Is she incredibly annoyed at him already? Big yes. “Who do you think is asking?”

“Well,” he says, adjusting his coat. It’s a really nice navy. Allie’s honestly a big fan of the coat. “If you’re asking…”

“It’s a yes or no question,” she snaps, her arms flailing a little, her coffee sloshing around in her cup. She paid five dollars for it from the student run coffee shop and she doubts it was at all worth it. But she made a promise, okay? A promise to her sister that she’d support small businesses. Which has pretty much only meant stopping with the daily Starbucks, but Cassandra doesn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I’m Harry Bingham. Why?” How was that smooth? No, Allie would seriously like to know. How did he make that sound smooth? How is that possible?

“Did you do debate in high school?”

His brow scrunches. His head tilts. He still looks hot. “Why—”

“Another yes or no question.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, carefully, like he’s trying to figure out where this conversation is going in real time, “I did debate in high school.”

She smiles. It’s not a proper smile, more of a half-smile. A smug smile? Doesn’t matter. “Great. Do you remember Cassandra Pressman?”

Harry’s face lights up briefly, probably with recognition. “Yeah, I remember Cassandra. She’s hard to forget. Very… intense.”

“Well,” Allie says, stretching out the word. God, she hates men. “I’m her sister, and from what I can remember, you said some pretty shitty stuff about her, and were, just in general, a complete and total asshole.”

“Excuse—”

“A misogynistic asshole, actually. And you know what, this coffee is shit anyway so—” In one fluid movement, an honestly graceful movement, a movement that Allie is—no matter how disappointed she knows her parents will be in her—proud of, she dumps her shitty five dollar coffee all over the front of his Tom Ford coat.

He lets out this pained sounding gasp that half resembles a mess of curses, and she walks away victorious and mostly guilt free.

Two hours later, he follows her on Instagram. She does not follow him back (even though she thinks about it because… hot dude), and that feels really good too.

-

With a start like that, they shouldn’t make it anywhere. Still…

In November, she runs into him in line at the student run coffee shop. Which just furthers the point that she needs to stop going there.

“Allie Pressman,” he says, and if he wasn’t so hot, so might be a little creeped out. But, also, she does know his name. So maybe they’re even?

“Hi,” she says, semi-awkwardly. About as awkward as can be expected when you run into the guy you dumped a whole coffee on. Also, turns out setting was not what was making him so attractive. No surprises there, but still something to take note of.

“Thought you said the coffee here was shitty.”

She purses her lips. “Well, I have Pfeiffer this semester, so while the coffee here is,” she lowers her voice just a little. God, she loves being dramatic, “incredibly shitty, I definitely need the caffeine.”

“Oh,” he visibly winces, “sorry about Pfeiffer’s class.” And, then, just before they reach the front of the line, “Let me buy you a coffee? To make up for the fact that you will be getting very little sleep this semester?”

She tilts her head to the side. Who the fuck is this boy, and how much is he willing to spend on coffee? “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you coffee. Because… well, you know.”

It’s a half-grin half-smirk this time. And it is, arguably, much more disarming. “My friends and I have taken to calling it The Incident,” he supplies, and oh he’s funny too. Fuck.

“Sorry about that, by the way.” She is not, in fact, at all sorry about The Incident. However, Hot Guy (he does have a name, and she does know said name, but… well) is about to buy her a coffee, and judging by the Rolex on his wrist, price does not matter.

He shrugs. “I had it coming. And I’m sorry about the shit I said about Cassandra.” Allie’s mouth doesn’t necessarily fall open, but it almost falls open, and that counts for something. White boy admits he made a mistake. This is first page news. “I was stupid and upset and probably a little high. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

He levels her this easy grin. This content grin. This… I am one step ahead of you grin. “I messaged your sister on Facebook a very lengthy and somewhat heartfelt apology a year ago.”

They are officially at the front of the line. Allie does not care. “Cassandra hasn’t checked her Facebook since 2018.”

“That sounds like a her problem.”

Allie ignores that. “Hi,” she says to the cashier. “I’ll have a large caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso please.”

Harry looks equal parts disgusted and appreciative. And a little bit concerned. Which is valid. “Small black coffee for me.”

“And can I also get one of those brownies, and two of those turkey shaped sugar cookies,” she turns to him. Spending someone else’s money on food is fun. “Don’t they just look so cute?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding amused and looking way too endeared. “They look very cute. You plan on sharing with me?”

She should not be playing along with this. “Maybe.”

He follows her outside, catching the door and holding it open for her. It’s raining, which sorta sucks, but she has no plans on actually sitting down with this boy. That feels like a step too far.

Only, then—“My place is just around the corner,” he says, so fucking casually. And, God, how is she supposed to respond to that? “I’ll trade you one of those cookies for my notes from Pfeiffer’s course.”

Her heart is about to beat out of her chest. This is not good. “You paid for the cookies.”

“I know.”

Fuck.

“Okay, let’s go to your place.”

-

They have sex five times over the course of a week before her conscious tells her to stop. Then, she tries avoiding him for the rest of November but gives up two days after Thanksgiving. Because she’s not immune to anybody who calls to offere her left over pumpkin pie, okay. Fucking sue her.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she says right off the bat, and he lets out this laugh that involves him throwing his head back. And that shouldn’t be as hot as it is, and she should not be feeling this warm inside because it is literally snowing right now.

“Where should you be, Pressman?”

“Studying for my polisci midterm.”

He continues looking at her way too fondly. Her cheeks flush a pale pink. She blames the change in temperature. “You have Craven?”

“Yeah.”

He does this little waving motion that is much hotter than it should be. One day she will find a thing he looks unattractive doing. Today is not the day. “Don’t even worry about it. Easiest test I ever took.”

“I should still probably be studying for it.”

He shakes his head, and that makes her laugh even though she very much does not want to. “You seem pretty smart. Don’t worry about it.”

That was… comforting.

“You know, I kinda like what we have going,” he says, and nope her heart should not be beating anywhere near as hard as it is. Is she having a heart attack? Oh, God, is she about to die? Is she about to die in Harry Bingham’s apartment? Cassandra is going to be so disappointed.

“And what exactly is this that we have going?” she manages to get out. Yeah, Allie can practically taste Cassandra’s disappointment.

“Eating baked goods and having sex. Obviously.”

She chokes on her bite of pumpkin pie.

“So if you wanna get dinner sometime…” he continues, as though she is not choking right in front of him.

She manages to dislodge the piece of pumpkin pie in her throat. If that shit wasn’t so fucking delicious, she would be swearing it off right now. “Would you be paying?”

He looks surprised. That counts as a victory. “Yes?”

“Then no, I’m good.”

“Why?” he asks, just a little too quickly, and, yeah, his composure is entirely gone, and they are once more on an equal playing field. Arguably, she might have the upper hand right now. Which is nice.

“Because that sounds a lot like a date, and I do not want to date you.”

To his credit, he only looks sort of hurt. She takes another bite of that pumpkin pie. Who cares if it might kill her. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my sister’s high school debate rival, and that just feels a little too it’s a small world for me.”

“That’s a shitty excuse.”

“But it’s a valid one, isn’t it?”

“No, not really.” Well. At least he’s being honest.

“Look, Harry.” First name and everything. This is called progress. “You’re nice and all—really great baked goods—but Cassandra would give me that disappointed face if it ever came out that I’m… associated with you. And, honestly, I can’t handle that right now. Mentally—nope. Not happening.” She sounds flustered. She feels flustered.

“Okay?” She is taking that answer as a win.

“Great!” Too bright. “Hopefully we can stay friends? Or at least the type of acquaintances who buy the other fun shaped sugar cookies and give them the notes to classes so they have a chance to not fail.”

He stares at her, a bit like he doesn’t think she’s real, like he’s marveling at everything that she is. That or she has pumpkin pie crumbs all over her face. And, then: “Actually,” he starts, and oh God, this is not going to go her way is it?

“What?” she says very slowly.

“You know what?”

“What?” She repeats.This is already getting annoying.

“You know what’s hot?”

“What?” (But with additional fear this time.)

“Secret relationships.”

Oh. Oh Fuck.

She doesn’t have an argument for that.

-

Honestly, that’s probably the moment that it all starts.

send me song lyrics and a pairing and i’ll write you a drabble

[grell-writes-stuff]

A Self Indulgent First Chapter

Enjoy...something

Words: 2,549

Genre: Young Adult / Paranormal

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

Slam!

Gasp!

And then the apathetic yell of “Walk it off, Willow!” from Coach Martin. No stopping the game or running over to make sure I’m not deprived of air or dying or something. Just “Walk it off, Willow!”

I suffer for a second with the wind knocked out of my body. My inhaler finds its way from my pocket to my hand, and while I hold the one breath I force myself into and wait for my crap lungs to jump-start again, I contemplate the most-likely-illegal play that landed me flat on my back in the middle of the field. Quarterback Tom Styles’ outstretched elbow connecting with my neck at full speed in his chase for the checkered ball and high school sports glory, clearly confusing his claim-to-fame varsity moves with a pickup game of soccer since I doubt he has the brain cells to remember the rules to two sports at once. And probably a little bit on purpose. Because he’s a dick.

My chest wheezes a little, but at least it’s something, and the weak inhales finally start to catch as a sun-freckled face appears above me and blocks out the light. Ivy offers me her hand.

“Did th-that look a-as bad as it f-felt?” I sputter.

Ivy tilts her head from side-to-side like it’s the scale measuring how uncool I am. “Worse. Very pathetic. You will die alone.” She yanks me to my feet and acts like a support in spite of the height difference.

“P-Please stop making m-me take gym with y-you.”

“Nah. It’s too funny.” She ignores my scowl. “Come on. Let’s get you some water and wait for those shitty lungs to work again.”

She escorts me – hobbling like some eighty-year-old man with spine problems and not just what will soon be a terrible, ugly bruise – toward the bleachers, empty except for the water bottles of our classmates. I’m happy enough to sit on the sidelines, not just while recovering from having all of the air robbed from my chest, but for the rest of gym class, and also forever. Ivy is equally as happy, but only because it prompts the girls’ teacher, Coach Caruthers, to scream in her booming voice:

“Hammond! Back on the field!”

Without missing a beat, Ivy responds, “In the event of moderate injury, students are allowed to have a friend or fellow student for mental, emotional, or physical support. It’s in the code of conduct.”

I don’t know if that’s actually something in our school’s rule book, but Ivy has read the whole thing cover-to-cover for the sole purpose of seeing how many provisions she can disregard without getting into trouble through malicious acts of over-compliance or sheer dumb luck. So, she’s either following the rules to the letter or lying about them. As I sit, I see that Caruthers does not look impressed when Ivy plops onto the bench next to me. The whole reason our gender-segregated phys. ed classes collaborate so often is because they’re full of athletes – and me, the outlier – so more often than not, it’s just an extra practice for the varsity players. Even though Ivy was born with the “good at physical stuff” gene, and talented enough to be a forward on our girls’ soccer team, she prefers to rely on the natural part of her ability and not the practice part to the vexation of literally everyone.

“Hammond!” Caruthers screams. “On the field, or off the team!”

Ivy squirts a stream of water into her mouth and quickly swallows before passing the bottle on to me. “Cool. Who’s replacing me?” she retorts.

I focus on downing some water and breathing evenly again and not on the vein beginning to pop out of Caruthers’ angry-red neck. She can’t say anything back because, well, Kinross High School isn’t huge. Pretty much everyone who can play sports is already playing sports, and as far as Ivy’s tendency to disrespect anyone of authority can go, she’s also crucial to securing victory over visiting teams. Caruthers just grits her teeth and returns to refereeing the game where Tom Styles has once again stolen the ball that got away from him, this time without incapacitating anybody since the one guy with asthma has left the field. (Asshole.) I watch as Abby Jefferson starts to gain on him, and Tom makes the choice to skillfully send the ball flying across the grass to the next open player, Drew Young, the only person in our gym class who does even less than I do.

That’s not for lack of talent either. I’ve seen Drew actually try on the rare occasion, and he could absolutely score a spot on a boys’ sports team. But most games, like today, he receives the pass and kicks the ball along to the next open player – it’s intercepted by one of the girls – and continues pacing the field leisurely. Coach Martin yells at him to get his head in the game, but Drew doesn’t bother. If the activity doesn’t involve selling the pens that he stole from the cheerleaders to the football team, the little weasel has no interest.

The game continues on.

Ivy reclines until her shoulders are touching the bench behind us, tilting her head back and staring at the sky. I have to wonder how comfortable it is.

“My dear Sid,” she theatrically addresses me. She likes to be dramatic sometimes. She thinks it’s funny. “I have a proposal for you.”

“I told you I’m not training a messenger pigeon with you. We only live three houses apart.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually, but no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She looks over at me without breaking her questionable position. “I know what we’re doing tonight. I’ve concocted a perfect plan, you see, for this most All-Hallowed of Eves.”

“You can say ‘Halloween’ like a normal person. It’s okay.”

“Let me bring you back in time,” she continues, ignoring me, “to the Kinross of yore. Just decades after its founding, the Salem Witch Trials came about and our town was no exception to the noose–”

“Salem is two hours away, Ivy,” I interrupt with the fact.

“Shut up. The Salem Witch Trials swept across the state of Massachusetts, migrated into Kinross, and thus the most famous trial of Kinross history was set in motion when one Ann Kelly was accused of being a creature of the occult!”

“Can I get the abridged version of this plan please?” I ask her. “Like, the part that takes place in this century?”

Finally fed up with my interjections, Ivy sighs exaggeratedly and rolls her eyes at me. “Blah, blah, blah, she was hanged, she’s buried in the historical section of Riverview, and we’re going there tonight during the witching hour to see” – she switches to her best spooky voice with elongated, trembling vowels – “her haunted grave.”

“Hard pass.”

That makes her sit upright again with a slouch to her posture. She’s wearing a fabricated pout. “Sid,” she whines.

“Ivy, I’m not sneaking out with you at three in the morning on Halloween to go see a ‘haunted grave.’” She opens her mouth, but I follow up with, “Our parents would kill us. Besides, what’s-her-name probably just angered a bunch of Puritans and got executed because of religious prejudice. That doesn’t mean she was a witch.”

“Well, of course. I think angering Puritans was a mandatory activity back then. But come on, Sid! The legend says she’s a witch, and it’s the perfect Halloween thing! I think we are obligated – if not encouraged by the spirit of Halloween herself – to go see a ghost witch.”

“Does the spirit of Halloween have a gender?”

Ivy pushes past that and waits to catch my eye dead-on. “Bet you a hundred bucks we actually see Ann Kelly’s phantom.”

My lips part to say no just a split second before I register the number. “Wait – a hundred?”

Something cocky has taken up her face, and she recites with inflated confidence, “Ten A-Hams. A Franklin. A thousand Roosevelts.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll take your money,” I tell her. “You’re on.”

Her grin is smug as we fist-bump on it and close the deal, but I decide that I don’t care so much with the promise of an easy hundred dollars coming my way. Ivy ingests another stream of water, and swallows while her eyes quickly scan the grass to catch up with the game again. Suddenly, a yell flies from her mouth:

“Box him out, Julia! Come on!”

Then she’s up off the bleachers and jogging back out onto the field. As unwilling as Ivy is to make an effort and practice, she’s also equally as competitive, even if this is just a gym class where victory doesn’t really matter. I, on the other hand, take my time on the bench. Struggling to breathe isn’t my idea of fun. I need to stop letting Ivy manipulate me into taking phys. ed. If she keeps it up, she might kill me.

 ***

I can nearly be qualified as a mess by the time Ivy and I reach our lockers after final period, and she’s humming like she’s got live wires for veins despite just spending an hour burning off energy. Meanwhile, I’m still recovering from my last bout of airlessness after I returned to the field and ran for maybe ten minutes. And I feel gross. The benefit of having P.E. last period is that I don’t have to shower here and can wait until I get home or to Ivy’s. The con is the window of time in between. I usually try to keep the gap as short as possible, and therefore, my time at my locker brief. I think Ivy and I took enough time getting changed after gym to avoid most people – at least the non-athletes.

“Hi, Sidney! Hi, Ivy!”

A mixture of feelings suddenly rockets through me and don’t add up in the end. While my chest is beginning to slowly overclock, and the hallway seems a few degrees warmer and rising steadily, I’m ready to play dead as Naomi Park opens the locker right next to mine on the opposite side of Ivy’s. Her shoulder is a fraction of an inch from touching my arm which is probably too close when I’m still drenched in gym sweat. Ivy greets her politely with ease while my brain is trying to catch up with the mundane situation and not think about how she smells like some kind of flowery perfume and I smell like crap.

“Hey, Naomi,” leaves my mouth and sounds too drawn-out and weirdly cheesy, so I just try to smile to make up for it. That feels awkward too, but she thankfully doesn’t seem to react to that, and her glossy pink lips tilt up without much effort into a perfect grin.

She puts some books on the shelf in her locker. “Any exciting Halloween plans?”

“Nope,” Ivy says immediately, likely because our actual idea involves a wager and might not be entirely legal – it’s a misdemeanor at the least. I just take the hint and don’t add anything to refute her answer.

“You? Any plans? For tonight – Halloween?” I wish that had come out differently. It could have at least sounded coherent.

“Nothing tonight,” Naomi responds. “But Heather’s having a ‘Belated Halloween Bash’ on Saturday while her parents are out of town so I’m ‘required’ to be there.”

“Oh, cool. That’s…cool.”

“I guess so. Heather’s parties get a little boring after a while though. I bet your plans for Saturday are much more fun.”

“Yep. Pints of ice cream, horror movies, and making bets on how long it takes Sid to hurl when the blood starts gushing,” Ivy interjects.

“Ivy.” I mutter the snap of her name so it doesn’t sound as harsh as I want it to. The temperature in the hallway rises astronomically.

Naomi giggles, which hurts. Well, it would if her laugh wasn’t so musical and twinkly. It’s like a damn harp quartet. “Sounds like a good time,” she comments. Her locker door shuts. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, totally – tomorrow. See ya’, Naomi!” She’s nearly out of earshot down the hall, and I wait until I know she definitely can’t hear anything before I say to Ivy without daring a look at her, with the heat of embarrassment and shame boiling me alive from the inside, “Please say nothing.”

I can hear the grin on her face when she speaks. “You realize she’s just another human being, right?”

“Are you kidding? She’s at the right hand of Heather Loch. She’s popular. I’m shocked she still knows my name.”

Ivy shuts her own locker with a characteristic slam. “Dude, you’re ridiculous. She likes you back. If you just talked to her, and told her that you like her, you would have a girlfriend.”

“Ivy, she thinks I’m a loser.”

“I think you’re a loser and I still like you sometimes.”

I roll my eyes and can’t say anything to that. I don’t care if Ivy thinks I’m lame. It’s not the same. We’ve been together for as long as I can remember, so at this point, she’s locked into this friendship, no matter how easy it would be for her to hang out with the people at Kinross High who are actually popular and liked.

I close my locker and we start walking to the main exit of the building and eventually across the school’s student parking lot. Some groups linger, but most people seem to be dispersing and heading home for the day. Ivy and I walk straight through the lot as always, avoiding the cars pulling out.

I want to avoid the Styles’ Ford Everest – which is so bright red that it’s an assault on the eyes – but we have to walk past it and the clump of popular kids loitering next to it: blonde, perfect, popular Heather Loch, Asshole Quarterback Tom and his not-as-terrible twin, Ed, and my locker neighbour and secret crush, Naomi. The girls are under the guys’ arms like they belong there, popular with popular. There’s usually not much interaction between our pair and their group because I’m pretty sure most of the popular kids either don’t know who I am or just hate me for no reason, but today Tom decides to rub in his full-contact plays on the soccer field.

“Nice moves out there, Pussy Willow!” he shouts clear across the lot. It makes me feel the bruise on my back, still fresh, but I’m past the point of being mad about it. Really, Tom’s just an annoying jerk, and that’s all he’ll ever be.

I try to tap into Ivy-like sarcasm and passiveness. “I get it. Because my last name is Willow, and you’re insulting me. That’s really funny. It’s original.”

He yells something back that includes one of Ivy’s favourite swear words, but we disregard it and turn out of the parking lot in the direction of our houses. Ivy states that we’re going to my place because, in her mind, it’s easier to sneak out of a single-parent household. I don’t try to refute it because arguing with Ivy when she has her mind made up is like talking to a brick wall.