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despairots · 2 years ago

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surprise, ethan landry

ethan landry x freeman! gn! reader

summary: in which, mindy suspects amber freeman’s sibling to be ghostface, who grows distant from the friend group.

cw: murder , gore , bloody violence , swearing , spoilers , already established relationship.

authors note: wsp y’all 😍 really long btw

“and finally, [name] freeman, the sibling of a ghostface.”

“wait what?”

“mindy, what the fuck?” you scoffed when mindy excused you, “you’re insane. why am i suspect too?” mindy smiled at you and leaned down to your level.

“don’t think i’ve noticing you distancing yourself.” she pointed out making you scoff again, “cause i can cope, mindy. sorry it’s different from yours.” you retorted with the same sass she had.

mindy gave you a sure look, making you roll your eyes, “okay, mindy, i’ll follow along. even if i was the killer, even though i’m not, what would be my motive?” you questioned, crossing your arms.

“revenge for amber.” you threw your hands in the air, “unbelievable. tara and i killed amber, and you’re fucking excusing me!” you argued before looking at tara who agreed with you.

“okay but look, [name] was with me or tara ever time the killings happened, so it can’t be them.” ethan defended making you smile at him, “thank you, ethan!” he smiled back at you.

“okay, whatever but you’re still on my suspect list.” mindy dismissed the topic making you sarcastically smile at her before she went on a rant again not before two people made eye contact, both tense jaws.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

mindy gagged at chad and tara, “will you two just make out already?” she joked making [name] laugh out loud, on the phone while texting someone.

“mindy, that was so inappropriate.” chad scoffed with a smile, tara smiling at the twins, “oh, whatever.” mindy finished putting the utilities down and walked towards the three.

[name] still on the phone, their fingers flying across the keyboards, “oh, and are you texting ethan? adorable.” mindy teased with a smirk, “hardy har har.” they smiled back at her.

“where is he?” chad asked them as they turned off his phone and slid it into his back pocket, “at econ with a 100 people.” [name] answered and leaned back onto the counter.

“sam?”

“yep?” mindy looked at sam, who walked into the already cramped up kitchen, “we do not have to stay here.” she continued. “welp, to bad. i insist. safety in numbers.” sam grabbed a drink, “aw, thanks mom.” [name] joked around.

“you’re welcome, child.” sam joked back, “this is gonna be so fun. a little slumber party with the core five!” the others looked at him weirdly, “core five?” “yeah!”

“did you just give us a nickname?”

“yeah, well i sure did. i mean, we’ve been through a lot together, and… it’s a pretty cool nickname.” chad nodded, “it’s better then last time.” [name] muttered under their breath.

“that’s debatable.”

“extremely debatable.”

“you can’t just give us a nickname, dingus.” the atmosphere really relived everyone’s tension, “oh, of course i can, dingus, because i just did. core five! up top!” chad raised his hand to mindy, who shook her head.

“no.”

“down low.”

“get that away from.”

“high five.”

“don’t ever.”

“please for the love of god.” chad turned to sam, who chuckled at him, “don’t do it.” tara grinned with [name] getting a message, “y’know, i would actually like for more respect, and support—“

[name] walked back into the living room, eyebrows furrowed whole still staring at their phone, “guys. what the hell?” anika called out, turning up the volume for the tv, with concerning news.

“we’re hearing from sources inside the homicide division that the prime suspect is non other then samantha carpenter. one of the survives of the woodsboro killings in 2022.”

the news reporter reported, sam’s breath hitching in her throat, “that is so stupid.” [name] commented with a roll of their eyes, “seen here attack a women on the screen last night.”

it showed two nights ago a video where a girl splashed her drink onto samantha, who responded by pushing her, everybody watched with a pissed offed look.

sam muted the tv off before going into the dining room, the five friends looking at eachother with concerned looks. the three went to sit with her, [name] sitting back onto the couch.

eth <3

did u see the news?

no, why?

sam’s the prime suspect, that’s so fucking stupid

btw hows econ?

good, why?

[name] was about to respond before the three at the table exclaimed in happiness causing them to look back, “i told you, [name]! you have to give me 10 bucks now!” chad called out.

[name] scoffed, “come over here!” tara waved at them who smiled and went over, “i feel like we should high five or something.” chad stuck his hand out, “the core five high five.”

“don’t call it that.”

the five interwhined hands, letting go before sam’s boyfriend called, the five teasing her as sam declined saying she’ll call back later. a text being sent to the five, a image of quinn being attacked.

“oh what the fuck.” there was screaming and thudding in quinn’s room, everybody jumping up in front of the door, a few metres away from it.

“run.”

her body was thrown at anika, the killer slowly walked out as anima screamed loudly that probably everyone outside of the building could hear, chad, tara and [name] ran outside of the room, closer to the door.

they ran downstairs before tara realized that they left them upstairs, “what? tara! chad!” [name] called out, “call the police!” chad told them as [name] pulled out their phone, dialling 911.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“anika’s dead.” mindy muttered into the arms of [name], “i’m so sorry, mindy.” ethan popped out, lifting up the safety tape and walked towards them, chad pining him to a police car.

“chad. hey, chad!” [name] pulled him away, “he was at econ, okay! he even sent a video to prove it to me!” they defended ethan, pulling out his phone to show the video to him.

“fuck, man.”

“where the fuck were you, [name]? i know you were with tara and i before but when i look back down, you’re gone!” chad pointed to them, “i was calling the police! i went to someone for help!” [name] defended themself.

“bullshit!”

“look, just because ethan wasn’t here last night, does not fucking mean you can blame him! if you wanna blame anyone, blame me!” [name] said making chad scoff, “who said i didn’t?” he sneered at them.

ethan looked at the body on the ground, “oh my god… who?” “anika.” chad answered with a hand on his hip, body tensed. the three went back to the ambulance, “mindy, i’m so sorry.”

“step the fuck back.” mindy snapped at him, “you’re at the top of my list.” she continued with a glared, “i had econ!” mindy and chad looked at eachother with doubt.

“he’s not lying.” chad whispered to her, “[name] has a video of him at econ.” mindy looked at [name] who was being questioned, “i’m gonna be right back.” tara said to the three and left.

“is that kirby?” [name] pointed out, the three looking at where they were talking about. “holy shit.” mindy’s jaw dropped at the sight of her.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“jason and greg, were little rich, bitch boys, apparently they used fake names to use this place.” the group and detective bailey followed behind gale, “how’d you find it?” kirby asked her.

“it’s called investigating journalism for a reason.” gale replied with sass, “i like her.” [name] whispered to ethan who gave them a weird look, “how didn’t you find it?” gale continued to poke at kirby.

“i like her a lot.”

“weren’t you tracking them?” the two continued to go at eachother, gale swiping a card and pulled a door open, everybody hurdling inside. “what is this place? what’s with all the security?” sam queried.

the lights turned on, “it’s a movie theatre.” tara pointed out, “it’s not just a movie theatre… it’s a shrine.” gale added onto tara’s sentence, “it’s giving richie and amber’s motive.” [name] commented.

it revealed to have every victim’s and killers clothing’s and ghostface costume, everybody scattered around the room. [name] walking up to amber’s ghostface costume.

“you’ve all been through so much.”

“okay, how’d the get all this stuff? isn’t this evidence?” tara inputted making [name] frown, “yeah, i would like to know too.” they looked back to tara.

“well, cops like money, and evidence gets a lot money.”

“um, why am i here exactly? my alibi checks out.” ethan broke into the conversation, “so i can keep an eye on you, roomie.” chad answered, mindy doing the i have my eye on you gesture.

“the killer must have found this place before he murdered jason and greg, and then he took the mask off the mannequins.” gale stated, “all nine from stu, billy to amber and richie.” she continued.

sam went up to her fathers costume, “so, somebody killed these chuckle fucks and took over?” chad put the situation into a small sentence, “someone who believes that sam masterminded woodsboro.” gale added.

“if this was a normal stab movie, this would be killers layer.”

“yeah, well, who gives a fuck about the movies now?” [name] crossed their arms, “which means this isn’t a normal stab movie.” kirby said, the two ignoring [name]’s comment about the movies.

tara quickly walked away, sam following behind with everyone else just chilling now.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“i gotta go.” [name] lifted up their phone, “my mom needs me in the hospital, said it’s a emergency.” they continued, almost leaving until mindy grabbed their arm.

“stay safe, okay?” [name] nodded, “who do you think i am? the helpless victim? come on now, i wanna be in the sequel.” they joked, giving them a smile before leaving the vehicle.

“do you think your friend over there is the killer?” kirby asked, eyes on the laptop.

“no.”

“yes.” mindy and chad said at the same time, ethan disagreed, the four looking at eachother, “wow. now, that’s was you call fake friends.” kirby whispered under her breath.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“you know, you’re like the tenth guy to try this right? and spoiler alert, it never works out for the dipshit in the mask.” gale threatened, her boyfriend disappearing.

“oh but they certainly leave a mark of who to go, don’t they? richie and amber managed to butcher dewey, craved him up like a christmas goose. how does it feel to lose the only man who ever loved you?”

ghostfave taunted causing tears to prick gale’s eyes, “fuck you!” she sweared with anger. “how does it feel to know that you weren’t there for him at the end.” ghostface chuckled a little.

“not there to give him comfort as he died screaming in his blood.” gale sniffled, “you’re one who’s gonna die screaming!” she responded to him.

“maybe. but you won’t be around to see it. you couldn’t stop what happened to dewey. just like how you’re not gonna be able to stop this.” a loud sound was made behind her.

her boyfriend brutally stabbed, the killer appeared through the small hole, cleaning the knife off the blood and stabbed over before the killer ran, hopping over the couch.

he grabbed gale’s arm almost stabbing her as she grabbed a pan, smacking it over his face as she ran to the balcony, dropping things to slow him down.

she went back inside, hiding in her room and grabbing her gun to defend herself, she shot at the door, the pounding stopping. “how’s that for nostalgia, fucker?” she commented.

another call went through, scaring her as she picked it up, “you missed.” ghostface stated. “sure, i did.” gale replied, gun still pointed at the door.

“you win. i’m in the elevator, heading to the ground floor.” gale didn’t believe him, “sure you are.” ghostface scoffed at her before gale shot her gun again.

“maybe you did hit me, maybe i’m wounded or maybe i’m wearing a bullet proof vest.” ghostface teased, “that’s why i’m gonna shot you in the fucking head.” she opened the door, no one at it.

her breath grew heavier as she rounded the corners, “you would’ve made a good killer, gale. sidney know what’ve made sense, dewey was the fan favourite but you…”

“cracking under the pressure, turning into ghostface would’ve been a great twist.” gale rolled her eyes, “keep talking asshole.” ghostface laughed.

“sure. what do you wanna talk about? you never got to be the leading lady, did you? it was always about poor, sweet sidney sucking up all the oxygen. where does that leave you to be?”

“the brains and sex appeal.” gale answered, “sorry about your boyfriend, all those muscles didn’t help much.” gale eyed her dead boyfriend, “they sure didn’t.” the killer laughed again.

“can you hold please?”

“what?” gale called back, hearing it ring from behind her, pulling the trigger. ghostface opening the door, pointing the gun away and stabbing her in shoulder.

she tried to reveal him before she was pushed into the pillar again, and stabbed in the thigh. she pushed him away, and crawled to the gun, ghostface trying to stab her over and over again.

he was thrown onto the glass table, gale grabbing the knife, swing the knife down, she was stabbed in the side by the left over glass, forcing her to let go.

she grabbed his arms, stopping the knife from stabbing her through the head, “fuck you!” she glared up at him.

“hey, ghostface!” sam called out, shooting gale’s gun, missing as he ran away.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“what the fuck happened?” [name] pushed the glass doors, eying everyone there, “where the fuck were you?” tara snapped at them, “i was at the fucking hospital, with my mom!” they answered.

“i’m so scared you guys, i don’t want to get hurt again.” mindy breathed out, tears pricking her eyes, “neither do i.” chad agreed, “i don’t want you getting hurt either.” chad leaned against her.

“no… no.” he sniffled, [name] ran a hand through their hair, “okay, what happened?” they asked calmly as everyone turned their hands towards them. “gale attacked while we tried getting the killer to come out.” sam explained.

“so, what do we do now?”

“maybe he gets to win this time.” sam shrugged, not wanting to deal what’s happening now, “he wants to punish me. me. so maybe we let him.” the four looked at her like she was insane.

“i’ll just give myself up. if this is what i have to do to keep you safe, it’s worth it.” sam cried, “no, we’re not doing this, sam. alright, you went back to woodsboro to protect me.” tara declined the idea.

“every single day you made the decision to protect me. none of us would’ve been be alive if kt weren’t for you.” the three nodded at that, “you have to let us protect you this time.” tara said.

sam shook her head, “no.” “yes. we’re a team remember?” mindy stood up, “actually, we’re a family.” [name] smiled, “yeah, mom.” they used the nickname for sam again, causing sam to smile.

“let’s go! core five! come on.” he stuck his hand out, “core what?” danny asked, “it’s a us thing.” chad pointed to lastest victims.

“he’s gonna keep coming for us.”

“isn’t there somewhere safe to hold up in?” ethan butted in, “he’s just gonna keep finding us.” tara pointed out, “great.” ethan breathed out. “we could use that though.” they raised an eyebrow at tara.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“is this even a good plan?”

“you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” tara rolled her eyes at ethan, “she’s got a point, eth.” ethan glared at [name] who was infront of him, “so we’re just gonna split off so the killer could pick us off one by one? no thank you.”

ethan stated, “we just have to get to the theatre.” sam stopped the argument, pushing through the crowds of people in costumes, some in ghostface costumes.

mindy and ethan got separated from the others, getting held back from the group of people. “fuck! fuck.” the train doors closed as it took off, leaving the two alone.

ethan grabbed her shoulder, scaring her, “get your ghostface ass away from me, ghostface.” mindy insulted, confusing ethan.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“look, it’s fine, it’s okay, she’s with ethan.” chad put his phone away, the train lights flickering. “oh, shit.” chad breathed out, seeing multiple people in ghostface costumes. “that’s terrifying.” [name] shivered.

“how many stops do we have?” sam looked, biting her lips when she realized, “ten.” the tension was extremely thick, the lights flickering multiple times.

someone in a ghostface costume appeared in front of sam, before disappearing when another person entered the train, sam looked for the person again.

the ghostface sam saw slowly approached them, “guys.” the others looked over, danny moved infront of sam, the ghostface exiting the train. the tension grew softer.

[name] felt a vibration from their pocket, taking it out, having a text from ethan.

eth <3

mindy got attacked from a guy in a ghostface costume

seriously?

“um, guys. mindy got attacked... by someone in a ghostface costume.” [name] broke the silence, chad snapping his head towards their phone, “what? are you sure?” [name] nodded, showing them the text message.

“shit.”

· · · ꔫ · · ·

sam, tara, danny, chad, and [name] saw kirby, “hey! i talked to bailey. i’ve got everything set up.” she said following them, “where are mindy and ethan?” kirby looked behind them.

“they’re 5 minutes behind us.” tara answered for sam, kirby nodded. “let’s get you all inside.” kirby led them inside. “not you..” sam looked at danny, who was beyond confused

“what?”

“don’t trust anyone, remember?” sam looked at danny with a solemn look, “we don’t know you. not really.” she continued, “i can watch over him. i have a gun.” [name] reassured her, sam gently smiling at them.

“you know me.”

“you’re not woodsboro.” danny let it go, “i’m sorry.” she apologized, danny understanding and reassuring her that it was okay, giving her a peck on the cheek.

kirby, sam, tara, and chad went inside, leaving danny and [name] outside.

· · · ꔫ · · ·

“fuck, it felt good to kill him! this was your grandmother’s sam, nancy loomis. really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it?” [name] appeared with tears streaming down their eyes.

“[name]! oh my god!” tara hugged them as [name] eye contact with sam and smirked, pulling something out of their back pocket.

“surprised, tara.” they said into the voice box, giving the carpenter sisters another wave of horror, “w — what?” [name] went into a fits of giggles before heaving a sigh.

they pulled a knife out of their pocket, “what’s the matter sam, you look you’ve seen a ghost?” [name] quoted billy, speaking into the voice box again. “and speaking of family, ethan’s names not actually landry.” [name] announced.

“right, dad?” ethan looked at detective bailey, who laughed and brushed his hair, “wait, if it’s you three, that leaves… mindy?” the other ghostface shook their head, pulling off the mask, revealing quinn.

“hey, roomies.” tara gasped, “didn’t see that one coming didn’t you?” quinn grinned, pulling off her gloves, “yeah, because you died!” tara replied, tears streaming.

“she kinda didn’t.” [name] walked over to them with a mocking pout, “though it was a good way to get off the suspect list. stab mindy on the train. that sorta fun.” quinn ranted.

“wait, then who attacked gale?” sam asked before looking at [name], who raised their hand, “i did. after what she did to amber, i thought it would be a little fun to toy with her like she did to my sister.” they smirked.

“oh, and i killed anika… when you guys got attacked in the apartment, locking eth out. i left from downstairs, i quickly went to the other entrance to your room to ambush you guys, killing anika on the latter.”

[name] explained, having tara glare at them, ethan giggling.

“yep, and i made sure to be there at the scene so i could switch the body out with the fresh one.” detective bailey wrapped an arm around his kids, “a little fake blood, prosthetic, something a grieving father could get away with.” the three surrounded them.

ethan wrapped an arm around [name], who smiled up at him, “and this is stu macher’s mask, he was my favourite.” ethan placed mrs. loomis’s masked on her mannequin.

“that’s three, that’s two, which leads… your fathers.” bailey pulled out billy’s mask, “this is what we’ve been counting down to sam.” he stated, “i’m gonna need you to put it on.” sam slapped the mask away.

“fuck you!”

“woah!” ethan slashed her forearm, laughing and taunting them, “you stay the fuck away from!” tara cursed him, [name] pointing their gun at her making her back away.

“remember who has the upper hand, tara.” tara glared at them, holding a brick.

“oh come on.”

“what is this? you think this is a family?” [name] shrugged, “for amber and their family, sure. why the fuck not.” ethan kissed the crown of their head.

“yeah, bitch you should know better then anyone.” quinn entered, “they’re still not getting.” ethan smiled, “look, i don’t know what you believe but i didn’t commit those murders in woodsboro. it wasn’t me.” sam looked back at bailey.

“oh, we know that! what do you think this is? some bullshit conspiracy theory? come on, who do you think started the rumours about you in the first place.” quinn raised her hand, a smug look on her face.

“you wanna know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero or woodsboro into the villain? how easy it is to convince the world to believe the worse in people rather then the best.” quinn pointed the knife at her.

“because it is not enough to kill somebody these days. you have to assassinate their characters first. so when dad discovers your horrible mutilated body.” [name] mockingly attacks them.

“pose to sam wearing her father’s mask. they’ll say some bastard on the internet that you’re the real ghostface and took matters into your own dilated hands.” ethan explained, sam scoffed.

“exactly why it’s a perfect alibi and all the best lies were based on the truth. you’re a killer, just like your father.” bailey pointed making sam defended herself.

“no, i’m not!”

“yes you are, you motherfucker, you killed our brother!” quinn yelled at her making sam widened her eyes, “what are you talking about?” sam breathed out.

“you said your brother died kn a car accident.” quinn pointed her knife to tara. “no, no, no. so you see something, he died in woodsboro… in the hands of your bitch sister.” ethan glared.

“and [name], here, shared the same interest in killing you both.” sam turned around to look at bailey, “you’re richie’s family.” he nodded.

“and [name]… were you apart of the killings last year?” [name] smiled with a evil glint, “who do you think killed dewey and attacked tara in the hospital?” they tilted their head, “you bastard!” tara yelled at them causing [name] to tilt their knife at her.

“you’re the real fucking bastard here! you think killing my sister and their brother, you’ll fucking get away with it!” they yelled back at her. ethan stabbed sam in the shoulder.

“look who’s finally starting to get it!” they went to attack the carpenter sisters, quinn held the knife up to sam’s throat, “there she is… there she is when she killed our fucking brother.”

the others conversed, [name] gliding their fingers down a photo of them and amber when they were younger.

“for they were just a little dark but richie really loved them, loved them. he made a few of his own. did you know? there’s a very special bond between a father and his first son.”

bailey looked back at them, “this is why i helped him build this place.” sam looked around, “this was all his?” bailey nodded his head, “yes, he’s a very passionate collector.” he commented.

the others yelled at eachother, “your son… he was so pathetic.” “that’s not true.” sam mentally smirked, “yeah, your son. he was a man baby, who had his girlfriend and [name] do all the killing.” [name] glared up at her.

“he was a strong feral young man.”

“he was a limp, dick fuck who cried before i slit his throat.” a gunshot went off, sam holding her side, “fuck you.” [name] muttered, tara went to throw the brick before ethan stabbed her.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“i’m just finishing act 3, tara.”

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andydrysdalerogers · 6 months ago

Text

Undercover ~ Epilogue

Pairings: Jake Jensen and OFC Samantha Matthews

The Losers have made it back to their families and are out. Well, almost. A threat against the British crown needs to be handled and the CIA has tapped the Losers for one final mission. And they are sending in Jensen.

Jake Jensen hasn't been a civilian in years but now he's undercover to find out why his target is where he is and who he's after.

Enter Sam, someone who Jake doesn't expect and well, he didn't know he was looking for.

Can Jake handle his mission and falling in love? Especially when the truth leads to a bigger mission than expected?

*~* A Jake Jensen Story *~*

Author's note: I'm so sad to be saying goodbye to Jake and Sam.

The playlist is available on Spotify.

cover photo by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst, death, smut, and a bunch of stuff a can’t say because it gives away the plot!

Previous: Chapter Sixteen - Royally Screwed

Story Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Five Years Later...

“Your Royal Highness, your guests have arrived.”

“Cool thank.” Prince Jake had finally gotten used to the formal address with the staff. It was still a trip that he was a prince. Everyone called him “Your Royal Highness” or “Sir”. His in-laws call him Jacob, much to his annoyance. He was only called that by his own family when he was in trouble. But Sam, Sam still calls him Jakey.

“Jakey, are they here?”

“Yeah Princess. I’m gonna go get them.” Jake stood up and pressed a kiss to her nose. “Stay here, relax.” He walked over to the front foyer of Clarence House, the home that Anthony had gifted them when they got married almost four and a half years ago.

Jake didn’t want to wait for another year after his invocation ceremony. Sam’s parents, along with Anthony’s wife, Queen Elizabeth, planned everything out with Sam. They had a small church ceremony in Manchester, followed by a modest reception. Jake’s family, including his cousin Savannah and her family made it out for the wedding. Sam had forgotten to warn her brother that Jake’s cousin in law was famous.

“You are now related to Chris Evans?” Anthony asked as he watched his wife fangirl a little.

“Did I not mention that?” Sam smiled. She had her moment when they had met ages ago. Since that time, she and Savannah had become close, and she had asked her to be her bridesmaid, along with Aisha. The Evans children served as flower girls and ring bearer. Jake had been sweet and asked Clay and Chris to be his groomsmen after Pooch and Cougar especially, refused to participate.

As Jake approached the door, he could hear arguing. “He’s so important he has to have a guard.” Jake smiled as he heard Pooch complain.

“I don’t think its about Jake, more Samantha,” Clay replied. “Be respectful.”

“I am respectful.” Jake heard a snort that could only come from Cougar. “Shut up Cougar.”

“Y’all know its rude to argue in the home of a prince, right?” He called out as he leaned on the door frame.

Pooch grinned, “not when you’ve know the prince for 15 years.”

“Hey Poochy, nice to see you.” He gave Pooch’s wife and son a kiss and a hug in greeting. He bro-hugged Cougar before he turned to his former commanding officer. “Colonel,” he said to Clay, with a cheeky smile.

“Don’t call me that,” Clay replied and pulled Jake into a hug. “Sorry Aisha couldn’t make it.”

“You have a newborn at home, I get it.” Jake shrugged, “I mean, I don’t get it, not yet anyways, but I get it.” He smiled. “She’s excited to see you all. Follow me.”

Jake walked them through their home. “Nice digs Jake,” Pooch says as he carries his son through the home.

“Thanks, I guess Harold’s father built it for his wife when he was Duke of York.” Jake shrugged. “I just like we got a pool.”

They enter the great room where the room is decorated in Avengers characters. A little boy runs to Jake and jumps into his arms. Jake scoops him up. “Uncle JJ, where you be?” The little boy asks.

“Been, dude, been. And I went to get some friends.” The little boy looked over. “Uncle Clay!” He squirmed until Jake put him down and he ran into Clay’s arms.

“Hello, Your Royal Highness,” Clay said as he cooed at the boy. “How’s my Charlie doing?”

“Good, it's my birthday!”

Anthony and Elizabeth had Charles Jacob William Clayton about two months after Jake’s invocation. The new Prince of Wales was beloved by everyone. The only one who didn’t seem to care was his younger sister, one year old Charlotte, who was more interested in her teething ring than her brother at the moment.

“Hi guys!” Sam carefully stood up, her nine month belly covered in a baby blue maternity dress.

“Look at you mamacita,” Cougar said with a kiss on the cheek. “Beautiful.”

“Hey mama,” Pooch said.

“Your Royal Highness,” Clay said with a wink. “How are you, Sam?”

“Good, ready to get this kid out.” She placed a hand on top. “Three more weeks.”

“Got the maternity bag and snacks ready,” Jake said, an arm around his wife’s waist.

“Yes,” Sam rolled her eyes, “heaven forbid we forget the snacks.”

“I would argue with you about the sarcasm, but I would also like to live,” Jake said. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “We’re ready to go if this little one makes an appearance early.”

“Do you know what you are having?”

“Nope.” Jake grinned as Sam sighed. “We couldn’t come to an agreement. Played rock, paper, scissors to decide and I won,” he said proudly.

“And now I had to do the nursey up in neutral colors,” Sam grumbled. She sighed and smiled. “Any way, drinks are along the back wall. If you need something stronger, ask Lawrence in the back.” She pointed to a butler.

“Clay!” Anthony came up to the group greeting as they moved around the room. Sam kept walking around, being a good hostess for her nephew/godson’s birthday. The relationship between her and her brother had improved. Anthony drew Sam in on matters of state, wanting her to be ready to lead if needed. He made an effort with Jake and Sam was in the room when Charlie was born.

As she got ready to bring the cake out, she felt a twinge in her back. She stood up straight for a second, but the pain didn’t return. She shook it off and kept moving about the room. About twenty minutes later, another pain seared across her belly, causing her to gasp. “Jake,” she said shakily.

“Yeah baby, what's...” he stopped dead as Sam curled over a bit, grimacing in pain. “Uhh...”

“Jake, I think I’m having contractions.” She reached out for her husband and grasped his arms.

“But, its three weeks away.” Jake was stunned. “We still have time and...”

“Jake!” Clay stepped in. “Snap out of it. Sam, look at me.” She turned her head. “It’s gonna be ok. Where is your bag?”

“Its upstairs by the door of our room,” she said with huffs of pain.

“Cougar, Pooch, get him to snap out of it.”

“Sweetheart,” Harold came in as the team moved. “What is going on?”

“Papa, I think I’m in labor and my husband is standing in front of me like an idiot.” Jake still hadn’t moved, his jaw moving like a fish.

“I’ve got it,” Clay said, running down the stairs with her suitcase. “Let’s get you to the hospital.” He turned to see Pooch and Cougar playing rock, paper, scissors. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Pooch said. “We think he needs a slap in the head to make him conscious again. Trying to decide who gets the honor.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Clay went up to Jake and snapped his fingers. Jake jumped and looked at Clay. “Jensen, your wife is in labor, you need to move.”

Jake looked from Clay to Sam and back before he said, “oh shit. I need the bag and the snacks and...”

“Ok Jake, relax I’ve got the bags and the RPS is going to take you to St. Mary’s. We’ll be right behind you.”

“Ok, alright. Let’s go Princess. Time to have a baby!”

“Really Jacob, I didn’t notice.”

Jake looked at Clay. “I’ll explain later.”

Twelve hours later, Harold, Jake’s parents and the Losers were sitting in the waiting room, when they heard a door open. Everyone looked up and saw Jake walk out wearing scrubs and holding a little bundle.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet David Harold Clay Jensen-Davenport. My son.”

Everyone gave their congratulations as they looked on to the newest member of their family. “How is my daughter?” Harold asked.

“Tired but in love. They are helping her take a quick shower and then everyone can visit.” He looked down at his baby boy and kissed his forehead. “I love you son,” he whispered.

Later on, after everyone had left and it was just the new family of three, Jake laid next to Sam on the bed as she fed Davy. “He’s perfect,” she said.

“Of course, he is,” Jake said. “He was baked by you.” He kissed her temple. “Thank you, Princess.”

“For what?”

“For taking on a Loser and making him the happiest guy in the world. I love you Sam.”

“I love you Jake. Always.”

The End

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @tinkerbelle67 @before-we-get-started @bunnyforhim @alexakeyloveloki @sunnyhummingbee @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaceinourtime82 @saucy-sassy-sparkly @kmc1989 @kandis-mom @lokislady82

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #Jake jensen #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fic #the losers #the losers au #chris evans fic #ofc Samantha matthews #British royalty au #Jake jensen au #Jake jensen x Samantha matthews #undercover

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britcision · 2 years ago

Text

Today’s is a little shorter but I think you’ll all forgive me as we dive into… The Inevitable Rogue Attack 😈

It fucking kills me how many people are almost sympathising with Vlad but want Bruce to catch fire, y’all are giving me life and don’t worry, Bruce will not be getting away with his crimes

First:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @arandomturd @viyatrix @stargirl1331

—————————

The Inevitable Rogue Attack

His kids were rioting. There were giggles, muffled screams, Steph was drumming her hands on the table hard enough to shake the place settings.

And Jason… Jason.

Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to do as Jason made his way back down to his seat, passing behind all three Amity Parkers to get there.

He’d hoped… well. He hoped Jason had understood his meaning. He hadn’t expected the boy to blanche like that, and he’d worried for a second that he’d misjudged.

But no, the smile Jason gave him on the stage was real. Bruce knew every detail of his son’s face, had worked doubly hard to be able to read those expressions when Jason had come back unfamiliar and grown.

There was something he’d missed. Obviously.

But he didn’t know what. Didn’t know what he had expected Jason to do, now that it came down to it. Bruce hadn’t said what he did thinking about Jason’s response.

He didn’t need him to respond at all, he just… he wanted Jason to know he cared. To be sure that Bruce loved him. That Bruce wanted him back.

That he would never be sorry enough for how his mistakes had cost Jason everything. Surely promising that before so many witnesses, so many people would show he meant it?

They’d need to talk. They would always need to talk. And perhaps Jason would talk to Alfred too, and Bruce could ask what he’d done wrong.

He hadn’t expected Jason to fall sobbing into his arms. But the way he’d paled, Bruce’s stomach had dropped like a stone.

Was it really such a surprise to hear him say sorry? Such a shock? Had he failed that much?

Making his way back to his own table, he let his gaze drift from Jason and land on the Manson girl. He was a little surprised to find that she was staring straight back at him, despite the chaos at her table.

Shouldn’t she be focused on Jason? He had just rather publicly expressed his affections, even if he’d been circumspect.

Bruce would have thought she was watching him for his response to that, except that he’d seen Damian look at dogfight ring owners with a warmer expression.

Even as their eyes met, he saw her hand scrabbling side ways, snatching at cutlery and then Danny grabbed it and wrestled it back to the table.

She’d grabbed a knife. He’d have been satisfied in his assessments of her being correct, but who the fuck was Jason hanging out with?

He made it back to his seat, looked over, and she was still watching him. Narrow purple eyes tracking him like she was waiting to pounce.

He’d been stared at at every gala since he was a child.

He’d stared down villains planning to cube him with lasers, while tied to their tables.

Samantha Manson was activating his bat senses. No wonder Jason liked her so much.

Perhaps the Mansons hadn’t been exaggerating the situation… but that still left the question of Danny. The “very important” relationship that Jason claimed was helping the pit.

Danny was supposedly here as Sam’s date too. Could it be an open relationship? Or had Sam and Jason not yet realised he was involved with them both?

Selina’s intel suggested the former, but Bruce would have to observe them more closely to determine which it was. And then there was Tucker Foley…

Tucker had been spending more time with Tim than the other three. Bruce would be relying on him for a debrief later, and his impressions of Masters.

The rest of his children had clearly met Danny as well, and he wished he could have taken at least one of them aside for a report before dinner.

As it was, he likely wouldn’t be able to talk to them until they got home. Perhaps Damian might be persuaded to take a brief break from the rest of the room…

Though his youngest did hate to miss the action. Especially if he perceived something important to be going on, and from the set of his shoulders, he did.

His tension did absolutely nothing to soothe Bruce’s own worries. Nor did reminding himself that Damian may be upset by almost anything.

Damian may still struggle socially, but he was perceptive and excellent at threat assessing. If he was tense, there was a reason.

He was so focused on his childrens’ table that he didn’t even notice Selina on her phone beside him.

Jason slipped back into his seat, feeling much better than he had leaving it. Who knew that getting a little fuckery in would settle him so much?

Well, anyone who’d met him. But other than that.

Dick leaned in before his ass hit the chair, both arms outstretched as if to cradle Jason in them.

“You fucking madlad,” he gasped, eyes bright with laughter and Jason rolled his eyes, grinning even as he slapped Dick’s hands away.

“What, it’s not like you’ve not done worse,” he said off handedly, settling himself in.

Steph was still drumming on the table, finishing up an epic solo by snatching up her knife and tinging it off her glass.

“And that’s the new high to beat on Bruce’s blood pressure chart, ladies and gentlemen, likely possible only through grand larceny!” She declared emphatically, tossing her knife back down.

And apparently inspiring Sam, whose eyes narrowed, still tracking Bruce as she grabbed at the table beside her. Danny, already on guard, leaned away a little.

“Sam, what are you… no Sam no!” He snatched at her arm just as she grabbed his steak knife, pulling it back to the table.

Steph’s brows rose, Dick leaned back a little, and Jason couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“You can’t stab a man at a gala, Damian’s already tried,” Tim put in with a slightly nervous chuckle.

They all seemed to think she’d go for it. Jason, only knowing her slightly longer, was completely sure she’d go for it.

He let his hand fall to cover hers and Danny’s too, squeezing softly. He kinda appreciated having a friend who’d kill for him.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but if Bruce dies tonight Tim inherits a lot more paperwork and he already doesn’t sleep,” he said casually, and Sam’s gaze snapped back to him.

Her eyes narrowed further for a moment and then she huffed, dropping the knife and sinking back in her seat. And still glaring at Bruce over at his table.

“It doesn’t have to be a lethal stabbing,” she pointed out coolly, glaring at her own utensils. Vegetarian options did not usually require steak knives.

A happy coincidence that it kept the sharp knives away from Damian too, really. He had switched from glaring at Danny to glaring at Sam assessingly.

Whatever conclusions he drew, they didn’t come before the waiters arrived, hot food still under cloches.

The table fell quiet for a moment as plates were handed out, and then food inspected. The dining room filled with the clink of cutlery and muted conversation.

Jason’s little stunt was definitely still causing ripples, and he felt a definite self satisfaction grow through him. Fuck Bruce and his surprises.

It was Tucker who brought the conversation back, clearing his throat while the others focused on food.

“So, Sam… on a scale from 0 to public proposals, where does Jason’s little kiss stand?” He asked slyly, waggling his eyebrows from his spot a whole Danny away.

Sam’s glare indicated that might not be far enough. Then she snickered and returned to her plate.

“Zero. We planned to fuck with their heads and we both know what it means, right Jason?” She asked, cocking a brow at the taller man.

Jason shrugged cheerfully, enjoying the way every siblings’ eyes narrowed at her lack of specificity. They weren’t off the fuckery list yet, knowing about Val or not.

“Exactly. Glad you agree though, I wasn’t sure if I should apologise. We didn’t exactly talk about that,” he added when she made a small questioning noise.

Sam shrugged, waving her decidedly blunt knife with mild disdain.

“You’re good. We’re on the same page, I don’t give a shit what anyone here thinks, and it’s gonna make the big explosion all the better.” She sounded distinctly satisfied with this turn of events, so Tucker raised his hands, surrendering.

Dick chuckled softly, shaking his head and digging into his food.

“Not to defend Bruce, but I don’t think he’s emotionally intelligent enough to try and corner Jason into a response,” he pointed out cheerfully and Jason snorted a laugh.

Which became a full laugh when Sam didn’t even glance over.

“Cop opinion, nobody asked.”

Dick pouted and Steph laughed at him, leaning in to continue either the conversation or the bullying. Jason wasn’t quite sure which, because Cass captured his attention with a gentle hand on his arm.

Glancing her way, she gave him a soft smile and signed,

‘Are you okay?’

And yeah. Without the pit’s biting green haze, Jason was a massive fucking sap, apparently. Or Bruce had shaken him more than he thought.

He managed a smile that wasn’t too shaky, signing quickly back.

‘I’m good.’ Not that he need bother, since Cass looked entirely unconvinced.

She didn’t call him on it though, slipping her hand into his and squeezing gently. And that was one of his favourite things about Cass.

Like most of the bats, she never really talked about shit, but in her case? It was often because she didn’t need to. She understood without needing him to find the right words.

Maybe that was why the whole ghost-emotional-language thing wasn’t freaking him out the way it probably should.

Maybe Cass was also part ghost. She’d died before.

And that was something he’d have to ask Danny about. He’d mentioned a “ghost sense” that he and Vlad could use to find each other.

Jason’s almost certainly wasn’t fully developed, just like his core, because to hear Danny tell it he could detect any ghost within a city block. Sometimes further.

Jason’d felt Vlad’s proximity like a chill down his spine right before he walked up so there was definitely something there. Hopefully it’d get stronger with time.

He’d rather have some actual warning before a threat got close, although now that he thought about it…

It had taken until tonight for Jason to really understand that the sense of peace which had washed over him at the graveyard and the coffee shop had been directly caused by Danny’s presence.

That had come long before Danny had been in eyeshot, both times. Maybe tonight Danny’s presence had overwhelmed him, masking Vlad until it was too late?

Or Danny’s was just that much bigger. Either way, Jason wasn’t fully sure it was the same sensation. Part of the same sense.

Vlad’s presence was an icy oil sliming down his back, but Danny’s was all warmth and peace. Could that make sense for a guy with an ice core? Or was there something else?

Part of it was the way the pit quieted, there was still an almost euphoric bliss that came with the lack of bubbling rage. In not being constantly at war inside his head.

Being able to fucking hear himself think. Fuck, the fact that it still felt like a luxury was damn depressing. The idea that one day it might be his normal again…

But it hadn’t been long enough since he’d seen Danny to just be that tonight. The pit had been building, but he’d spent the afternoon hanging out with Frostbite’s plant.

It had been ignorable. As normal as he’d been in the last year. And he’d still felt that warm rush as Danny came down the stairs. The second he saw him things fell into place.

That was probably the ghost sense. And maybe a bit of what Clockwork had told him about being the Fright Knight.

The ghost had said he’d always know if Danny was in danger, so it made sense that being able to see Danny and know he wasn’t in danger would feel good. He was doing his duty.

Definitely all that was.

By the time he’d tuned back into the main conversation, they’d moved back to the inevitable rogue attack. Currently? Betting on who it’d be.

“I could go for a Riddler attack,” Steph mused, waving a forkful of potatoes vaguely. “At least he’d know some riddles to keep us busy til the bats arrive.”

“Yeah, cause he totally cares about entertaining his hostages,” Tim snickered and shook his head. “Riddler’s on the run. Red Robin and Nightwing caught him shipping something explosive into the city. WE did the tech analysis,” he added for their guests.

None of whom looked surprised, which was interesting. Tucker seemed interested, but not concerned.

“Oh, did you get to have a look? I’m not much of a hardware guy beyond this beauty,” he said with a loving look to his PDA, then back to Tim.

Who shrugged.

“Personally? No, but I okayed the lab time and bumped them on the priority list. Some of them were a little close to one of our offices.”

“Risks of working in Gotham,” Dick agreed with a sigh, and this time he even filled in the next part himself, “despite if not because of the presence of the police.” He raised his glass to the table.

Steph and Cass cheered, Cass silently, and even Sam snickered. Cass took the next step though, shifting a little back up the curve of the table so they could all see her hands again.

‘Have not seen Poison Ivy in a while. Never met her.’

Sam sighed at that, raising her glass with a dry smile.

“And you won’t, at least tonight. If there was even a small chance she’d be in Gotham, I wouldn’t be,” she added to the Wayne brood, all of whom looked curious.

Jason could guess.

“Are your folks particularly worried about her?” Dick asked, glancing around for the older Mansons. Sam snorted a laugh but let Danny answer.

“Worried that given half a chance Sam will run away and join her. They’re both what you’d call “aggressive environmentalists”,” he added with air quotes.

Tim cocked a brow, grinning.

“That’s a funny way of spelling “ecoterrorists”,” he pointed out lightly, leaning in. “So how do they know she won’t come? She was in Gotham last I heard.”

Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers. None too close to their table; Jason had made it a condition that they not be near enough to talk to any others.

Then she leaned in, the entire table following suit. Danny and Tucker seemed equally curious, which was interesting.

“I’m not supposed to know this, and you can’t tell anyone, alright?” She hissed, and the Gothamites nodded along like each and every one of them weren’t about to run the Mansons down for supervillain connections.

Jason tried not to smirk.

Sam met each of their eyes, then continued, her voice low.

“So Tuck, Danny and I knew Vlad was coming to Gotham. I ran an Ivy check to see if my parents would let me come too, so we could keep an eye on him. And my grandma caught me.”

Tucker and Danny leaned back like this explained everything, eyes wide. Steph leaned in further, half out of her chair.

“What did she do?” She whispered.

Sam grinned.

“She recognised her. She was an activist herself when she was younger, really big on the environmental scene…”

“Ida Manson?” Damian asked sharply, head snapping up. Of course he’d know the most about the old environmentalist circles.

Sam looked mildly surprised but nodded.

“That’s her. She was an “anonymous donor” to Ivy a couple different times and obviously she knows about my parents. So she sent her two hundred grand and schematics to a construction company’s HQ that are bulldozing the Amazon.”

“Are your family all connected to supervillains?” Tim asked, fighting a smile. Sam cocked a brow at him.

“Other than being millionaires? Not really beyond voting for Vlad. Mom and Dad are big in the whole “respectability” thing, they wanna keep the family name as clean as possible.”

“And they don’t get much chance in Amity Park,” Tucker added with a snicker, “our villains aren’t really the kind you can buy.”

Sam hummed an affirmation and Danny made a face. He didn’t want anyone looking too closely into what had happened in Amity Park, but Jason figured it was inevitable.

About time Batman found out what he’d been missing.

All of his siblings looked thoroughly confused now, but Dick voiced the question.

“You guys have villains in Amity Park? More than just Vlad?” He asked carefully, sounding every inch the concerned civilian.

Sam rolled her eyes and laughed, setting down her cutlery.

“Not anymore,” she said dryly, reaching for her drink and raising it in a mock toast. Tucker and Danny copied, clinking their glasses together.

This did not illuminate the others. Or Jason, honestly. He’d seen the database, knew the basics, and knew that with Danny as the next Ghost King, his rogues were out of the picture.

He’d figured out that those dud calls from Amity Park? Never actually duds.

Danny had never asked if he knew about any of them as Robin, from that overlapping year between their deaths. Jason still wasn’t sure what to say if it came up again.

He took part in a confused look exchange with Tim, Dick, and Steph, shrugging to indicate that this really wasn’t something he was already in on. Half true.

Damian broke the short silence this time, glowering at all three.

“What villains are you speaking of? And what happened to them?” He asked curtly, his tone easily carrying his disbelief.

Jason’s eyes moved automatically to Sam, but it was Tucker who fielded this one with a casual shrug.

“Ghosts. We got a portal to the Ghost Zone, lot of ghosts decided they wanted to try and take down the town, and one became our local hero to stop the rest,” he explained like he was talking about mildly unseasonal weather.

Tim suddenly looked much less enamoured with his new bestie. Much more wary and confused.

“You… you’re kidding, right?” He asked half hopefully, and yeah, that woulda been Jason’s response a week ago too.

Today, he snickered and waved a two finger salute at his brother.

“Bud. Sat at a table with a literal zombie,” he added when Tim’s head snapped around. “This is so far from the weirdest shit you’ve heard.”

Tim coloured and huffed, puffing up in his seat.

“Yeah, but seriously Jason? Ghosts? Trying to take over an entire town? Someone must have heard something!”

“We sure tried telling them,” Danny agreed cheerfully, clearing his plate with untroubled enthusiasm. “The town got sucked fully into the Ghost Zone once, we only survived because my family made ghost shields.”

It wasn’t just Tim now, half the table looked utterly poleaxed. The only bat not blankly gaping was Cass, when Jason glanced back at her. And slowly, so did the others.

Cass was watching Danny thoughtfully, brows furrowed just the tiniest bit. Then she gave a small nod.

‘Truth,’ she agreed, and Tim exploded.

“What? No way! A whole American city can’t just pop off the map and not be noticed! Someone would have to know?” He sputtered.

Tucker gave him a sympathetic pat on the hand.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. The federal government invented a whole new department just to keep news from getting out. They’re pretty good too,” he added with a grimace.

Tim gaped at him. Dick, suddenly all business, leaned in with a frown.

“A secret government department dedicated to hiding ghosts?” He asked, and yeah, Jason remembered this from the database.

Seemed that with Cass’s clear, Dick was gonna take this seriously. That was… a little refreshing.

Sam gave him a scathing once over, but clearly decided that bullying hours were on hold.

“They’re technically called the Ghost Investigation Ward. Don’t google it or some extremely unpleasant men in white suits will come along to ask why.”

“If we can’t google it, how do we know you’re telling the truth?” Steph asked, her demeanour equally serious.

The three Amity Parkers exchanged thoughtful looks, then Tucker shrugged and scooted his PDA down the table.

“You can look it up on mine. I’ve cracked their systems before, they can’t backhack me,” he explained when Tim nearly jumped on the device.

A small smile broke through Dick’s serious face as Tim got to work, Steph leaning in.

“Seriously, I know I’m only a cop in Bludhaven, but you guys really like admitting to federal crimes,” he said lightly, driving a steep wedge into the rising tension.

Jason snickered along with Danny and Tucker, nodding to Tim.

“You say, like Tim isn’t probably committing the actual same crime two seats down,” he remarked and Dick actually grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, if he wants to borrow my handcuffs he can just ask, but the work ones aren’t for fun stuff.”

Tim flipped him off without looking as Tucker choked, suddenly very interested in his mostly empty plate. Then Tim looked up, expression grave.

“He’s not kidding. They’re syphoning a ton of federal funding, most of it into Amity Park,” he declared and Tucker leaned in to swipe at the screen.

“Non-Amity Park IPs can’t access any of our weather or news stations either,” he explained casually, like they weren’t uncovering a major scandal.

But then, Jason reminded himself, no one had done anything about this for around six years. Why would that change now?

Steph snagged the PDA this time, scrolling down a couple times then stopping to frown at Danny.

“Why does the weather station have something called Fenton Watch?” She asked and Danny groaned, cheeks flushing.

“Thaaaaat reports if my parents are gonna be on the roads… their bad driving is kinda legendary?” He offered sheepishly as Tucker snickered.

“It’s for the definitely-not-street-legal tank I told you about,” he added for Tim alone.

Before any of the others could jump on that juicy sentence a slender hand landed on Jason’s shoulder.

“Well don’t you all seem to be having fun?” Selina purred, smiling down at the table before leaning in. “I just thought I’d drop by and let you know, darling, I’ve already texted Aunt Harley about Bruce’s little stunt.”

She dropped a gentle kiss on the top of Jason’s head, which was fucking weird but… in a good way, patted his shoulder and moved on.

How the fuck had the pit ever convinced Jason that no one cared about him? Although to be fair, there had been a lot less open affection when people still thought he’d shoot them.

It was just a revelation every time, finally getting to look at these litte gestures, these people as just himself. Less bitter, less angry, less certain it was a lie or a trap.

Part of him didn’t want to lose the way it sent soft curls of affection through all the places anger used to burn. Didn’t want to take any of this for granted.

It had been so, so long since he’d felt like he was actually loved. Before his death even. Fuck, it was something he hadn’t had for most of his life.

It was completely different from just knowing.

He’d known Alfred loved him. Known Dick cared, the way he’d thrown himself headlong into bringing Jason home, no matter how many times he nearly got shot.

Knew Cass and Duke both cared without even the shadow of his death between them. But actually feeling it, warm and golden in his chest?

He hadn’t made it easy for any of them. Had fought against even wanting it for so long, sure he didn’t deserve it. Sure he couldn’t have it, so wanting it would only break him.

But here it was. Even Selina standing up to fight his corner, by using Harley as a weapon if needed.

Harley was probably banned by the Geneva Convention so he wouldn’t hold it against her to keep her own claws clean.

He just. His family cared. Even if all that was hurt was his feelings. That was enough for them to even go against Bruce.

(And fuck he knew how stupid that thought was, each new generation of Robins seemed more likely than the last to call B on his shit.

Damian might be slightly less likely than Steph to say the words “go fuck yourself” but he got the sentiment across.

Jason had called B to task plenty of times when he was being an ass to one of them. It just hit different when it was the other way round.)

Dick and Steph were back on their gleeful bullshit, grinning broadly at Jason even as he had his little moment. He wasn’t even gonna look at the rest of the table.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Steph sang happily, dancing in her seat and beaming across the hall at Bruce.

Sam frowned and looked around the table, the full complement of Waynes all grinning broadly bar one. Damian still mostly looked annoyed by the whole affair.

Which was basically how he smiled anyway.

“Wait, did she just say Harley? Like Harley Quinn?” She asked and yeah, oops, they did have a lot to catch each other up on.

Not today though.

“Pretty sure she’s Harley like the motorcycle,” Tim explained off handedly, shooting his own grin in Bruce’s direction, “you’re never allowed to tell her I said it but she’s a little too old to be called Harley like Harley Quinn.”

Didn’t exactly answer the question, but sounded enough like an answer that it seemed to pass. Jason was a little impressed.

“The effect will be about the same though,” Dick added with a snicker, arm cocked on the back of his chair to grin across at Bruce.

Fuck, had the old man been staring at them this whole time? Delightful. Jason very deliberately Did Not look over, finishing his own meal.

The rest of dinner was more reserved, the bats taking Selina’s intervention as a sign to let the heavy stuff drop. Might as well wait until they could do some more research.

The Amity Parkers followed suit and Cass settled, enjoying the time with her family. Teasing Dick, laughing with Steph, and Jason.

She could still see the tension in him, the same as Jason had always had, for as long as she’d known him. Could almost feel the pieces of him that twanged with every move.

She had never seen him seem so… free. He’d been getting better, letting her and Duke and Steph persuade them he was still family. That he was wanted.

It had made parts of the tension worse, and he’d carried himself every day with the fear that he’d hurt them. That they’d change their minds.

She still felt the same fear, sometimes. Knew there was nothing to be done for it but wait for him to come back, hold him close, and not let him push her away.

Because Jason could hurt them. Any of the bats could do serious damage, but most of them not by accident.

Jason lived every day with a weight around his neck, chained to the knowledge that all it’d take was one surge of the pit.

One break in his control and he might hurt one of them in ways nobody could fix.

Cass couldn’t imagine living with that kind of weight. She’d known she was a weapon, raised and trained to violence so she could be pointed and released.

Her father had never understood that she was still the one in control, not him. That she’d obeyed because she chose to, because she loved him, because she craved affection.

That she could walk away as easily as she had, find another family who would love her, and understand that there were… gaps inside her.

Places where she still didn’t know what fit. What to do, what to say when things were hard and her throat got tight. What to do when she messed up and hurt someone.

But at least she knew it would only be her words. Her actions. The hurt she made might be deeper for it and she was still so scared it might one day be too much, but…

She’d never see their blood on her hands.

Jason still did, sometimes. She’d see it when he looked at Tim and his throat closed up. When he stopped breathing for way too long.

When they’d all be teasing him, watching closely, weighing the green in his eyes, and he’d go to snap back at Tim and bite his tongue so hard it bled.

Cass hadn’t been there. Hadn’t seen how bad it had gotten, when Jason first came back. And maybe that was a blessing because she couldn’t have fought him.

Seeing the pain that still wound through him was enough to choke her. Seeing it then, when Bruce refused to believe it was him, Tim’s throat in his hand?

When the pit had his ear, all rage and hate and betrayal?

Her family had nearly broken before she got back. There had nearly been nothing for her to return to.

Instead, she’d come back to a stalemate. Jason’s rage tempered, forced solely onto Bruce while he fought himself to keep the rest of them out of it.

To a new brother, if one who demanded they stay out of his side of the city, who’d fire a shot if they broke his rules.

And maybe it was the same fear, that looming dread that one day she’d hurt them too that had pulled her to him. To reassure herself that even with all he’d done, Jason was still there.

To reassure Jason that there was nothing he could do to lose his family. If they could accept her, gaps and all, they would find space for him.

Maybe it was their shared time with the league, finally free enough to exchange what words they had.

Cass could read anyone. Oh, it wasn’t a science; body language was an art, every subtle twitch and motion possibly meaning a million things, different to each individual.

It took a little time to work out anything beyond the broad strokes, to observe and understand what each person meant by the smaller gestures.

Pain was easy. Physical or emotional, it did a couple things every time. Tension, aggression, training. The things she’d needed when violence was her only language.

Happiness was harder. Worry, stress, the things behind those were still tricky for her to nose out, but she was learning when to push and when not to.

She didn’t always know why, but that was what her words were for.

Jason hadn’t taken any time at all. He’d been as trained by Bruce as any of them, gone through all the rigorous exercises to control himself, hide any traces of emotion if needed.

Cass could never fully put her finger on why it just… didn’t work. Jason could do a poker face better than anyone she knew. Could lock every muscle, go still as stone.

He’d never have survived the league if he couldn’t. And yet she’d just look at him even when the pit wasn’t in control, when rage hadn’t stripped him back to nothing at all, and it was just…

Written all over him. Every worry, every stress, every half smothered moment of hope. She’d taken one look at him in the league and Known him.

It felt like he knew her too, in ways that no one but Damian got close to. Knew the weight of her past, the weight of her mistakes, and how much it burdened her.

He’d come back on the 25th changed, happy in a gentle way, the barest lines of pit rage left. And then the day after Danger Twink there he was again; moving light as air with that choking tension gone.

The longer she saw him with Danny, the more certain she was.

Jason had never been in less danger in his life. Danny had that same air of death, but he was also more alive than anyone she’d ever seen.

And he’d give his right arm if it kept the people around him safe.

It was kind of funny, really. Just like Jason, Danny was surprisingly easy to read.

Oh, young people tended to telegraph more, their emotions writ loud, and she had a good read on Sam and Tucker already. But just like Jason, there was no element of guesswork with Danny.

She didn’t have to wait and keep watching or check her results. It was just… obvious. Heart on his sleeve, even when they talked about the dangers of home.

She could almost feel his curiosity lapping at the edge of her awareness as desserts were brought out, even without looking at him.

She kept to the curved end of the table though, so the rest of them could see her more easily. It still felt… strange doing that. Making herself noticeable.

Even as she’d gotten used to talking, with her hands or with her mouth, she still had trouble with the idea of standing out. Making herself noticeable.

And of course at galas, she usually didn’t even let on she could sign. It was possible that game was up, but anyone else who knew sign was probably less likely to be an ass about her needing it.

But her family wanted to know what she had to say. Valued her input, even for unimportant things. And if Jason had to practice letting them love him, she had to practice letting them hear her.

Metaphorically, sometimes. They didn’t seem to mind.

And she was having more fun than she’d expected tonight. She enjoyed recon, gathering information, but she was enjoying just talking to Sam and Danny too.

They fit with Tucker the way Tim fit with his Young Justice friends. Confident, sure of themselves and their connection.

She’d like to see them in action, although probably not tonight. Not everyone brought their heroing gear to fancy parties. Although most people did in Gotham.

Tonight’s event had been quiet so far if Vlad didn’t count.

It wasn’t destined to last.

The dining hall had mostly emptied out, the party moving back into the main hallways when a dozen windows shattered.

Guests didn’t so much scream as gasp in surprise, although one young woman sounded distinctly angry as a spray of glass splashed into her new drink.

Cass still wasn’t sure she approved of the hall’s sugar-glass as opposed to bulletproof strategy, but she could appreciate the effect.

Just like the movies, the crash and scatter were very impressive, with very little chance of actually hurting anyone.

Personally Cass thought a few more rogues could do with slamming face first into bulletproof glass.

It might not deter the attacks, but it’d either dampen the enthusiasm or bring out the bazookas. Either way, heavier weapons came off the streets.

She was a little surprised to see Killer Croc bursting through the large double doors though. Not quite enough to pause on her way to a dark corner, but she noted it.

He usually preferred to stick to overt mobsters rather than dirty his teeth on Gotham’s elite. Luckily, he wasn’t the type to leave anyone guessing.

“Where the fuck is Harvey Dent?” He roared, grabbing an attendant by the throat and lifting him off the ground.

Cass’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the number of assailants, the question marks on their suits. Riddler must not have been as down as Tim assumed, and that could be bad news.

On the other hand, if Riddler was here they’d know by now.

She’d lost most of the others when the crowd surged together, contracting, and finally reached up to push a comm into her ear. Heard Sam yell in the background.

“CASS!”

And felt her chest compress for just a moment.

She’d seen Sam Manson at galas before, two or maybe even three times. She’d always seemed annoyed, resentful, angry underneath that pretty smile.

They’d exchanged nods. Waves. Nothing that should have Sam screaming for her when trouble finally broke.

Then there were other screams, and Cass has to fight a smile. No, Sam wasn’t scared for her. Sam sounded absolutely fucking furious.

Her parents must have been right to worry too, because from the sound of it she’d taken it out on whichever unfortunate body Cass had used to slip away.

She’d have felt bad if she was less certain Sam would have loved to deck anyone at the gala anyway. It was a little sweet that she’d been clocked as a civilian.

Someone to protect. That might be nice one day.

Sam was still swearing to beat the band, audible even as the goons tried to gather the fragmenting crowd together.

Cass skidded under a refreshment table, comm in her ear coming to life.

“Report.” Bruce. Not doing the Batvoice, so somewhere in the pile. Possibly intentionally, if Croc was after Dent.

“Out,” she hissed, sticking to the edges of the room as she let her suit blend her into the shadows. Much easier than dresses, whatever Steph said.

“Out,” came Tim’s voice, sounding a little rushed. Sloppy.

“Out,” Steph called, and Cass was a little surprised at that. The other girl had been close to their civilians too, and she hadn’t thought they’d both make it undetected.

“In,” Dick whispered, voice barely audible. But Cass could hear Sam still yelling when his comm picked up, “With Manson, lost Hood.”

So. Not as undetected as all that.

“Out,” Damian huffed, sounding thoroughly annoyed with all of them. More so a moment later when Cass slipped into the same shadow. “Amateurs.”

Jason just grunted, obviously not in a position to subvocalise. Obviously still in.

A bare second for analysis, then-

“Nightwing. Leave your civilian with Hood and extract. Hood, remain engaged. Eyes on Jason Todd-Wayne.”

Which, to a listening stranger, would sound like a protection order instead of what it was; a reminder that Jason in particular was being watched.

Jason couldn’t have put a more articulate “fuck you” into the words themselves as he grunted again, still deep in the crowd.

Poor Jason. He always hated being the one to be rescued.

Too bad for him Cass quite liked the chance to do it. Red Hood was just so big and tanky, everyone expected him to come charging to the rescue.

Swooping in to save his day was extra fun because of that. He couldn’t even hide his pout behind his helmet in civilian clothes.

Cass and Damian made their way to the back rooms, dodging goons who must have come in through the windows here.

They were still sweeping the halls, grabbing any guests who’d managed to get out of the main halls and muscling them back in.

It was easy for the bats to duck into one of the cleared rooms. Both shucked their suits to reveal their night gear, Damian pulling his cape and domino from a concealed wall safe.

Cass just needed her mask, which fit inside her Black Bat suit pocket beneath the main suit. She wasn’t surprised Damian had been layering too.

Most of the bats did, or at least kept a domino on them for plausible deniability. After all, it wasn’t called the surprising or unexpected rogue attack.

Both now fully suited up, Cass and Damian exchanged looks.

‘Ready?’ Cass asked, and Damian tutted.

“Fenton is a meta,” he reaffirmed, eyes narrowing behind him domino. Cass ruffled his hair and headed for the door.

“Agree,” she reassured him softly, and felt him startle. Poor kid. Damian had plenty of his own issues around being heard. Belonging. “Best not out.”

His brows furrowed and he rolled his arms, but followed.

“Todd needs to know what he’s dealing with,” he grumbled as they listened at the door.

Cass kinda wished she’d left a mouth on her mask, but the reasons not to had outweighed letting the others see her smile. They could usually tell anyway.

“Disappeared together,” she reminded Damian softly instead, attention now split to the hall outside. Things were quieting down.

Damian’s pout grew more pronounced, then he shook himself and refocused.

“Perhaps we will see what he is made of now,” he mused under his breath.

Cass considered reminding him that it might not be safe for Danny to use whatever meta abilities he had, but decided not to. After all, her family more than proved that there were people out there who didn’t much care for “safe”.

It was also their job to make sure no one else had to put themselves in harm’s way. Even if they were curious.

Pushing out into the hall, she and Robin took the high road.

Still buried in the middle of the crowd, Dick kept a hand on Sam’s shoulder as they were buffeted around. Keeping them together, as close as they could.

He might have worried about doing it except that she, clearly also used to rogue attacks and crowd control, had wrapped his tie around her fist like she had him on a leash.

Yeah, he kinda fucking loved Sam Manson. Perfect little sister vibes.

He’d managed to get his earpiece in undetected, taking advantage of her telling off some unfortunate soul who’d cut between her and Cass.

They were all being herded towards the dining hall again now, surrounded by a circle of goons and prodded as Croc’s yells directed them.

“Everybody shut the fuck up and stick together! We’ll be out of your hair just as soon as we have all your valuables and that little fucker Dent!”

Dick was pretty damn sure he saw the same lady who’d been talking to them when Vlad showed up slip earrings, bracelet, and her fucking phone into that silly fan.

Apparently it wasn’t just a weirdly anachronistic accessory. Good for her.

Through the doors he could see the henchmen beginning to split the crowd into smaller groups, grabbing and pushing and fuck, he’d have to drop Sam off before reaching that.

Luckily he was pretty sure he could already see Jason, and he leaned into Sam’s ear.

“Look, I’ll be able to look for Cass better on my own, they’re splitting us up and I don’t want her on her own. Can I drop you with Jason and the guys? So I can tell Cass you’re okay,” he added quickly when her head snapped round, eyes narrowed.

She studied his expression for a moment then snorted, digging into a very well concealed pocket in her skirt and pulling out what looked a lot like a tiny taser.

He was gonna get Steph the name of her dressmaker. If they didn’t already use the same one.

“Whatever. This’ll help you get through the crowds, I can get to the guys,” she grumbled back, not quite shouting over the noise of the crowd.

Dick gave her his best apologetic grin, and took the taser to see what it’d do. Always nice to see a new toy.

“Cass’ll have my ass if she even thinks I left you with some of these creeps so unless you have-” before he could finish the sentence Sam had already pulled out a second, larger taser.

She gave him the baby one.

Stifling a laugh, he checked on Jason’s position again, noted the three people between them, and gave Sam a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Alright, alright, you’re clearly more prepared than me, but we’re nearly there so jet.”

Sam gave him a sarcastic half smile, the man behind her jumped about a foot in the air, and Dick flicked his comm.

“Hood, confirm receipt,” he hissed, sticking close until he got another confirming grunt from Jason.

Then he made his way to the edge of the crowd, tucking his shoulders in to shrink his silhouette. A guy couldn’t hang out with Superman and Clark Kent without learning a few things.

It was a little closer than he’d have liked, but he managed to duck into a shadow just before crossing through the dining room doors.

A pair of goons hurried to close the party inside and he hurried to find a good spot to change. And a thought struck him.

“Hey, anyone think it’s too late to page in Signal?”

A series of muffled giggles and gasps came back, mostly muted, and Bruce sighed heavily.

“Fine. Going dark, coordinate yourselves around Red Robin.”

Someone must have decided to fish Bruce Wayne out of the crowd. Hoping Jason wasn’t too close, Dick pulled out his phone and a domino from separate pockets.

Duke might get to meet Danny in person after all. It was only 8pm.

Oh, and there was one more thing.

“Manson gave me a new taser.”

Jealous grumbles filled the air and Dick grinned as he stashed his jacket and tie.

“She also kept a bigger one for herself. We’ve got some spicy civilians today,” he commented cheerfully, testing the weight of the new taser as he moved to the windows.

Very nice, small and sleek and light, in a white and green scifi design. Just the thing some rich society types might give their little girl to keep her safe in Gotham.

Maybe he’d even get a chance to use it; escrima sticks did not fit well under tight trousers. Oh, there was a pair hidden, but where was the fun in that?

And maybe if he was extra lucky, Sam’d let him take a look at the bigger one after the fun was over. Preferably not on the receiving end.

Gotham was… confusing. Vlad didn’t know what to make of it.

These people were so damn scandalised by him putting a gentle hand on a young adult, yet armed goons and some form of crocodile man were apparently completely normal.

Oh, there was the odd cry, the occasional scream as a couple of hundred members of Gotham’s high society were pushed around, but from the quiet chatter surrounding him, this sort of nonsense was expected.

Amity Parkers reacted more than this to ghost attacks, and no one was ever seriously hurt during those. Not a lot more, obviously, but still.

He was almost becoming annoyed.

If he didn’t have his ghost sense he might have thought this “Killer Croc” was a ghost of some kind. He had that love of drama, the need for noise and attention.

It made Vlad think of Skulker really. Still, it was almost nice to know that the living could be just as dramatic. Ghosts had to come from somewhere after all.

Vlad could tolerate a little drama in other people, but he certainly had no time for it himself.

None at all.

Nope.

Still, there was something decidedly amusing about the whole situation. With the barest fraction of his powers he could likely deal with the whole crew.

Hells, they were few enough it’d hardly been a strain to overshadow every single one of the three dozen or so goons.

But that wouldn’t be fun now would it?

From what his neighbours were saying, though still none directly to him, the end result of these little messes was as predictable as the event itself.

Gotham had so many masked vigilantes at least one or two were sure to be close, and then the evening could continue. Perhaps a pause to redistribute valuables.

Personally, Vlad would prefer Gotham’s vigilantes take their time to show up. He’d been on the receiving end of Daniel’s heroic tendencies plenty of times.

It would be quite entertaining to be the one being saved. They’d all been separated into groups of fifteen, each with their own goon minder holding out what Vlad was sure was a fucking pillowcase for valuables.

A pillowcase. It didn’t even have handles. Yes, definitely better treat this as an amusing diversion because otherwise he’d have to be insulted.

Still, Vlad was content for now to sit on the floor, eyes scanning the room mostly patiently for his little badger.

That green scaly gentleman was stalking between the clusters of guests, ranting and raving about this “Dent” he was looking for.

Vlad doubted he’d get results, but perhaps once this whole mess was tidied up he would look into acquiring his services. Depending on how well he did when things got… messy.

He wasn’t paying him much mind at the moment though, because he’d just caught sight of a familiar flash of white hair.

Just Jason. No Phantom yet, but that was fine. And what a fun potential opportunity to see what their new halfa was like under pressure…

And as expected, there was Daniel, tucked close to the boy’s side. Still with Samantha and Tucker too, which was sure to make Daniel happy.

Adjusting himself more comfortably, Vlad settled in to wait. Daniel would make some sort of move soon. He was dimly aware that Brucie Wayne had just been pulled from the crowd.

Sam leaned in over Danny’s left shoulder, keeping her voice low.

“So Vlad’s fucking staring at us across the hall like the biggest creep on earth,” she hissed, and Danny automatically almost jolted to look.

Caught himself just in time. Leaned back against her, most of his attention still on Killer Croc.

“Think he had anything to do with this?” He asked under his breath, his gaze now meandering slowly across the other groups.

Yup, there was Vlad. Staring straight at him. Smiling when their eyes met, before Danny’s could dart away.

Ew.

“Does he look super expectant to anyone else?” Tucker whispered from behind them. Jason let out a soft growl, probably without even thinking about it.

Danny slipped a hand into his, squeezing gently.

Calm-relax-help is coming

Was not quite prepared for the shock that flashed back before Jason got it under control.

Jason hadn’t officially told Danny that the other Waynes and associates were the bats yet. He kinda didn’t have to.

Even if Jason had left the life after his death, that didn’t mean the family had. Still, it also wasn’t Jason’s secret to share, so Danny pretended to ignore it.

Much more productive to try and work out what the fuck Vlad’s angle was. Some kind of trick where he could play the hero and cozy up to Bruce?

Could he have orchestrated an attack with some of Gotham’s rogues? So far all of Croc’s demands had been for valuables and Harvey Dent, whoever that was.

There were surprisingly few actual valuables forthcoming too. Danny and Sam had obediently dropped their phones into an offered pillowcase, and wrestled Tucker’s precious PDA from his fingers.

The question mark guy had taken one look at it and tossed it back, declaring it junk. Aaaand Danny had shoved a fist into Tucker’s mouth while Sam reminded him that if he defended Ida’s worth, they’d take her.

He still wasn’t happy, but he had her in hand so he’d settled a lot more easily than the alternative.

Still, none of the pillowcases were really bulging, which was kinda weird. Most of the jewellery that had been on prominent sparkly display had kinda vanished when the windows shattered.

Some bigger pieces had been handed over, but Danny would swear the tiny harmless old lady in their group had had full bangles, necklace, earrings, and six rings on top of the ornate hair comb she’d handed over.

Weirder still, the goons seemed more annoyed than surprised.

“C’mon, don’t make me shake your fucking pockets out,” their guy growled, sending a kick at a young man near the edge of their circle. “Phones, wallets, jewellery, now!”

A single phone was passed up. An utterly unbelievable four from a group of fifteen. Danny raised his hands, trying to keep his Obsession on the back burner.

This wasn’t his city. Not his job. And if he changed to fight these guys, he’d be putting his friends in danger.

That last part was carrying most of the weight, honestly. And he’d finally lost his No Rogues streak.

Bummer. He’d been going for a campus record.

For tonight though, he could also distract himself with what the fuck Vlad was up to.

Pillowcase might be the one tossing his weight around, but long experience had taught Danny that he couldn’t protect anyone if he got caught in Vlad’s machinations.

That knowing little fucking smirk on Vlad’s face when their eyes met. The fucker was up to something, Danny knew it.

Well, there was one way to work out what. Glancing over at Jason, Danny made a face.

He’d understand. And maybe Danny could warn him a little better this time? Cuz if he got that overwhelmed every time, it’d be a real problem when they started training.

Then again, Danny had had a hard enough time with strong auras when he first got started, and he’d had a full core. Jason didn’t and Danny was… well, a lot bigger than Skulker or Technus.

Also Jason was still holding his hand. Which he had completely forgotten. Yup, his focus was totally great today.

He leaned in towards Jason instead, trying not to get differently distracted by the large man’s tension. Lots of muscles, well fitted suit, it would happen to anyone!

Except him. Today. Because there was a problem.

“Hey… I’m gonna try and get a read on Vlad, but that means I’ve gotta extend again. You good?”

It took every single second of every one of his four years with the League of Assassins to stop Jason flushing cherry red.

Great.

Best evening ever.

Highlight of his life.

His fucking king was checking if he was gonna pop a boner if he did some intel. Maybe he shoulda just fucking stayed in his damn grave.

It Did Not help that he could feel Danny’s concern creeping along the back of his neck like the lightest touch. Although…

Brow furrowing a little, Jason tried to chase down the feeling. Better than dealing with his own emotional state, which was Not Going There.

Danny felt… worried? About him? Not in the totally mortifying way Jason expected either. This felt almost soft.

Like he worried Jason might be hurt or upset if he did it.

There was a chance Danny hadn’t noticed.

Jason had been overwhelmed by Frostbite in the Far Frozen, it’d be a perfect cover if Danny hadn’t noticed the… key difference between the two.

Although the distinct amusement he could feel radiating off Sam suggested that she might have. Great again.

Since when could he feel human emotions?

How sure was he that Sam was still just human. She wasn’t a halfa, that was clear because there was no way Danny and Vlad could have missed it.

There were a lot of things between living and dying though. Jason was beginning to wonder just how many of them toed the edge of that particular line.

For now, he cleared his throat and tried to work out how best to seem like a totally-not-turned-on-by-your-looming-presence-in-my-every-breath guy.

Maybe it’d be better if he knew what to expect.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go for it.”

In all his years as a halfa and eventually the king of ghosts, Danny had never actually felt someone just turn themselves off before.

Jason’s aura shut down like he’d flicked a switch, his face suddenly completely unreadable. It was fucking weird, the sudden void where he’d been used to ignoring a background hum.

Maybe he’d fucked Jason up worse than he’d thought before. All those thoughts and feelings could be overwhelming, and Danny had tried not to send any messages beyond his presence, but…

His fucking presence was kind of a lot these days. Even he didn’t know how loud it’d get, it had been a long time since he’d faced down Pariah Dark.

And that had been a life or death situation. He’d been ready to deal with it. He’d kinda sprung this on Jason today.

Fuck, just the thought he might have hurt Jason twanged on the strings currently pulled taught by his Obsession. Made him want to wrap the other halfa up and Protect him from the world.

Which was exactly the thing that’d hurt Jason in the first place. No way he’d wanna deal with that again.

He was about to apologise for even mentioning it when he felt Jason slowly open up. Reaching back, probing and…

Danny didn’t try and look. Didn’t want to know what his words had caused which made the other man do That.

He didn’t need to though. Embarrassment-worry-hope spilled from that questing contact, and Danny made a specific effort not to think about it.

Jason was a big guy. Big and strong and clearly worked for his strength. Being caught in any moment of weakness probably sucked for him.

Hard to relate to, since even though Danny was technically the biggest and scariest fish in the whole damn ocean, he’d been a scrawny little fuck for his entire full life.

He’d been ground in the dirt long after he’d had the strength to stop it, and feigning weakness had kinda kicked that whole ego thing in the ass.

It helped when he was having to relive his most embarrassing highlights to prepare Jason for the “fun” of developing halfa powers.

Relief came through loud enough that Danny nearly smiled, nearly sent something back to reassure him, but he held off. It… didn’t feel intentional?

And yeah, very normal that Jason hadn’t liked the near-telepathy Danny’s empathy gave him into his thoughts and feelings before. It was invasive.

Buuuuut that worked for him when the one he was invading was a creepy old fuck with the occasional world domination scheme.

He glanced up when Jason cleared his throat and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go for it.”

Danny wasn’t gonna insult him by calling him a liar. Closing his eyes, he did his best to tamp down his presence and just reach across the hall.

Watching their whispered discussion with interest, Vlad almost wished he could hear them. Or spread his own energy the way Daniel could, far enough to read them from a distance.

That must have been what they were discussing though, because a moment later he could feel the stroking Presence of Daniel across his very soul.

Let the boy look. He had nothing to hide.

Danny’s eyes snapped open, blatantly dumbfounded.

“He’s fucking waiting for me to rescue him,” he hissed, almost loud enough to attract their goon’s attention.

Luckily another couple were busily insisting they simply did not own a cellphone. In Gotham city. In this day and age.

Just tell the guy to go fuck himself why don’t you.

None of the others seemed to know what to do with Danny’s revelation, though Jason’s lips pressed into a very thin line.

Danny would put money on repressing laughter.

Sam seemed to be on the same wavelength, brightening up and leaning in to Danny’s other ear.

“Wanna save literally anyone but him?” She murmured under her breath, glancing around the room.

Danny clapped a hand over his mouth ahead of any wayward giggles.

“SAM. There are bats about!” He hissed through his fingers and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah so stay Fenton. You could still punch Killer Croc, it’s not like he has ectoblasts.”

Why did she have a point.

Why was Jason suddenly grinning at him, so bright with glee-mischief-fuckery Danny didn’t even need his aura to see it.

“Danny. Remember what my brother called you?” He asked quietly, leaning in almost close enough to be… distracting. Which was totally the only reason it took Danny a moment to twig.

Longer than Tucker anyway.

“Danger twink,” the Black man whistled with a wicked glee of his own. A grin spread across Danny’s own face.

“Oh… hell yes.”

As usual, Bruce found himself in a position to fully agree with his children.

Galas sucked.

Of course, that wasn’t unique to this one. He felt the same way most of the time. He understood the importance of keeping up appearances, but he’d rather spend the night asleep if he couldn’t be working.

Usually, the rogue attack was a pleasant diversion. A chance to watch his family at work. Bruce didn’t mind playing hostage for them.

Today, he was just frustrated.

He needed to talk to Jason. Needed to catch up with Tim, get whatever intel he’d acquired. Needed to get Jason away from this Danny and keep him safe.

The Riddler’s men pulling him from the crowds while they split them into manageable chunks was unfortunately expected. Brucie’s friendship with Harvey Dent was well known.

As little as he liked it, Batman preferred having some control of the situation. What he couldn’t understand was why Killer Croc and Riddler would both think Harvey was here.

Croc could sometimes be reasoned with, he’d gotten away from the Gotham nightlife more than once, but he kept being pulled back in.

Tonight did not seem to be one of his good nights.

Brucie fixed his best smile in place as the scaled man bellowed at him.

“We’re gonna find yer pal Dent, Brucie! Just give him up!”

Luckily, he’d put a lot of work into making Brucie as vapid as possible.

“Gee, it’s a surprise to see you here today, Mister Croc. I heard you had moved to Coney Island to do shows, I was really looking forward to bringing my kids down to see you,” he said cheerfully, like they were catching up in a cafe.

Croc was not amused. Yellow eyes narrowed.

“An’ now I’m here, and the only person I wanna see is that half barbecued mess you call a friend,” he growled, grabbing the front of Brucie’s shirt and shaking him roughly.

Bruce let himself flop, eyes going wide and terrified.

With any luck, Kane would be busy on the other side of town. He’d rather be able to check in with her later about the whole Danny scenario, her opinion unbiased.

“I’m sorry sir but I don’t think I can help you,” he gasped, hands coming up to clutch Croc’s, “Harvey isn’t here.”

That made the man stop, those slit pupils dilating as he squinted down into Brucie’s face. He did his very best wide eyed, empty headed socialite back.

He seemed to be coming to a conclusion as one of the Riddler’s men stepped up, holding up a tablet. On screen, there was the Riddler, idly spinning his cane.

“How goes the man hunt, Croccy?” He asked over the speakers, barely glancing at the man in his grasp.

Killer Croc examined Brucie for a moment longer, then snorted and dropped him. Brucie dropped to the floor, gasping for air and keeping at an angle where he could see the screen.

Had Riddler’s new bombs been intended for the gala all along? Or was this retaliation for the warehouse raid?

“He ain’t here yet,” Croc grumbled, and Bruce noted that for later.

Had Harvey been planning to attack the gala? As always with Two Face, it’d be a coin toss. The bats hadn’t heard that he was planning anything, but that didn’t always mean he wasn’t.

Riddler tutted softly, still spinning his cane.

“Well, we have time to wait. Are all the guests ready?”

His goon turned obediently, panning the tablet’s camera around the room. Brucie let himself drop slightly further back to keep the screen in sight, laying on the floor.

“Excellent.” Riddler sounded satisfied, which probably wasn’t good. “Croc!”

The goon turned again, bringing the camera back to face Killer Croc. Bruce was familiar enough with his face to see the reluctant tick of a smirk at the corners of his mouth.

It wasn’t exactly a dignified job, being the tablet bearer. Still, it did put this man lower on the priority list for his children to take out, so it had advantages.

“Yeah, yeah,” Killer Croc grumbled, also turning back to the room at large, and Bruce tensed. He was losing their interest.

“If Harvey-” he was cut off by a casual kick from Killer Croc, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that he had no choice but to crumple around it.

Batman could tank a hit. Brucie couldn’t be allowed to look even half as capable.

And then his heart froze in his chest as Croc bellowed to the rest of the room.

“Where’s the man of the hour?”

In the shadows of the ceiling, Nightwing, Spoiler, and Red Robin froze as one. Black Bat and Robin were mapping the perimeter, checking the number of goons and any extra defences before Signal arrived.

Sharing a quick set of worried glances, Nightwing swung lightly across the hall to get a better look at the tablet. Tapped at his comm.

“Odds they want anything good with Jason?” He asked in a whisper, grimacing when Spoiler and Red Robin shook their heads as one.

Yeah. He figured.

“Odds we can move in now and get it over with?” Not that he expected them to be high.

Spoiler held out a hand palm down and wiggled it from side to side. Before any of them could speak, Robin commed in.

“Negative. There’s another dozen of Riddler’s men out here, setting up some sort of machine. It seems you caught the very tail end of his efforts,” he added with a disdainful scoff.

A grin tugged at Nightwing’s lips as Red Robin visibly twitched.

“That or he’s retaliating for his latest plan being foiled,” he offered cheerfully.

He didn’t particularly have any investment in them not having taken Riddler out of the picture; the man himself wasn’t in Arkham, so he’d assumed he’d be back.

Maybe not this soon, but Nigma could be volatile if his careful preparations were disturbed. And since he also wasn’t here…

“Something’s wrong either way, Riddler loves being on scene far too much to stay in the shadows,” Red Robin hissed, eyes still darting around. “He’d want to send a taunt to the Bats.”

“He’s gonna be real disappointed that we’re all here already if he’s posted up somewhere else,” Spoiler pointed out with a slight smirk, glancing around the hall. “Should we ask Signal to hold back?”

“Hey, you got me out of bed for the Danger Twink,” Signal cut in, just a hint of a grunt indicating he was already on his way.

“Batwoman and Bluebird can hunt him down if the taunt comes,” Red Robin cut them both off, brows furrowed in that all too familiar calculating frown.

Which, yeah. It’d be bugging him way more than Nightwing that something was off with the rogues’ behaviour. Red Robin liked knowing everything about everyone, all the time.

Nightwing didn’t mind switching it up, though every bat knew how to roll with the punches.

The lack of a puzzle was odd though. Riddler usually didn’t move in public until he had at least something ready to share.

Reaching up, he tapped his comms.

“Hey Robin, any chance you can get a closer look at what they’re setting up? See what we’re gonna be dealing with before Puzzle Quest starts?”

Robin just sounded impatient, flicking his own comms loud enough they all heard the impact.

“That is what I am doing. Thus far it seems rather basic. No recording or transmitting equipment.”

Which meant that either Riddler was set up to broadcast somewhere else, or this really wasn’t his operation. But what would Riddler have to gain from working with Killer Croc?

Or were they both just looking for Two face?

Too many questions, and they weren’t likely to get the answers without at least two of the rogues in question. Hopefully someone else would get their hands on Riddler, if he wasn’t coming personally.

Maybe it wasn’t great that more than half the family were on site. Fucking typical that this would be the first rogue attack ever without the rogues physically present.

Red Robin’s head rose, and Nightwing settled into position to wait. Time for the plan.

“Black Bat, finish your sweep and let us know if there’s anything else being set up on site, Spoiler go to join her. Signal, sweep the outer perimeter when you arrive, be on the watch for Riddler himself or more goons.”

Spoiler nodded, making her way from the hall through the chandelier maintenance hatch. Red Robin looked across at Nightwing, and he gave him a thumbs up.

“I’ll get a little closer and see if I can’t get an eye on that screen while you hack the feed?” He asked, and grinned when Red Robin shot him a grateful smile.

It was hard for any of them to keep up when Tim fell into his full planning mode, whether they were masked or not. Any time he didn’t have to spell things out he was happy.

Nightwing never held it against him. The kid could leave Batman spinning his wheels and he’d been frustrated often enough when he had to explain his plans to the Teen Titans.

Knowing that everyone in the room was smart and capable did not help when you were talking at cross purposes.

Tonight, he attached a line to one of the ornate pillars along the walls and lowered himself down into the shadows of one of the draped blue hangings.

If nothing else, it gave him a good view as Jason was pulled from his little group.

Little Wing looked… well, not that they’d expected him to look terrified or even particularly concerned, but he looked seriously amused by the situation.

This should be good.

It wasn’t that Jason had been expecting to be singled out. As far as most of the rogues knew, the Waynes were just another one of the richest families in town.

Good to shake down for cash, but not usually of any special interest. He was pretty sure most of the rogues couldn’t even name half the adopted kids.

So being called out by Killer Croc? Not expected. That it had happened literally right after he and Danny had been discussing plans to start shit?

Incredible. 10/10, Croc was moving up on his favourite villain list. He’d always been high, but this might do it.

It helped that the rush of Danny’s Presence had been more manageable this time. Whether it was having been warned or just experiencing it before, he hadn’t been swept off his feet.

It was still a lot, as if Danny had laid himself along Jason’s back and then pulled his way straight into his body. But he could breathe. Could think, could focus, and then it was gone again.

And being summoned by Killer Croc pretty much right away.

Maybe the adrenaline helped. Who fucking knew.

He raised a hand as the goons all turned to their groups, squinting suspiciously at the socialites.

“That’d be me?” He offered dryly, already rising as their riddler minion made as if to push through their group.

Sam grabbed Danny’s arm as Jason moved away, and onlookers might have confused it as her wanting comfort, or stopping Danny from following.

This close, Jason knew it was a warning for Danny not to actually laugh. The timing was just… the actual fucking best.

Killer Croc actually moved down towards him too, rather than having Jason brought up to the stage. Even better. Jason didn’t exactly square up, but he didn’t back down.

Croc seemed to approve, giving Jason an entirely unsubtle once over as he stopped just in front of him.

Better play carefully though. He’d worked with Croc as the Red Hood, and he already knew Roy’s real identity.

Croc had been running with Harley lately (and Jason kinda loved that partnership made in Hell) but he wasn’t officially on the list of Rogues Who Knew.

Luckily the plan wasn’t for Jason to take a swing at him.

“So yer back from the dead,” Croc growled, something in his eye making Jason wonder if they might not have to update that list after all. “Coulda sworn you were a scrawny little shit.”

Jason shrugged. It wasn’t really something he could deny; he’d grown almost a foot and a half. Being dead: weirdly good for growth spurts.

“I got better.”

What it was to Croc though… unless he did know who Jason really was. But then he’d have known Jason had been back for a while.

Croc rumbled something under his breath, and Jason made a note to run him down later as Red Hood. He’d been settled in Coney Island, finally out of the game.

Jason wasn’t gonna put him in Arkham if there was a chance they could fix whatever had dragged him back to town. And they could catch up. See what he actually knew.

Eyes narrowing just a little, Croc caught a scaly thumb under Jason’s jaw and tipped his face back and forth.

“So what the hell’ve you done to piss of Two Face, kid?” He asked in a lower growl, not quite quiet enough for privacy but not yelling to the whole hall.

Jason’s brows furrowed.

So they weren’t after Dent as a guest. He’d been planning an attack on the gala. Whether he’d still go through with it now though…

And the good news was, best case scenario here was to tell the truth. At least some of it.

“No idea. I’ve only been back in the land of the living for a couple weeks.” And he hadn’t run across Two Face recently in any costume.

Croc chuckled softly, which Jason was going to weigh in the “might know” column, but was interrupted by Riddler shouting across the hall.

“Just bring the boy here, Croccy, we need to set the stage before our fickle friend shows up!” He sounded impatient, and Jason watched annoyance flick across Croc’s eyes.

But the big man just shrugged, curling an arm around Jason’s bicep and tugging him towards the stage.

Yeah, Jason could feel just how much Danny didn’t like that development. There was a new undercut of tension alongside the amused-excited-anticipation.

And it was as good a time as any to start the show.

“What do you guys want with Two Face?” He asked as Croc dragged him, moving with him but not quite keeping up.

Flicking wait-soon-just one second as much as he could towards Danny.

Croc glanced back and gave him a harsher yank to keep up, attention now fixed on the stage. Where a couple more of Riddler’s goons had appeared, holding what looked fascinatingly like a bomb vest.

Joy. Not just Croc’s idea then.

“You’ll see just as soon as he shows up,” the big guy growled, and Jason sighed. So much for the easy way.

Ready-ready-ready

DUCK

“Catching” one toe on the heel of his other shoe, Jason stumbled and fell to the floor. As expected Croc twisted to glare down at him, grip still tight on his arm. Even bent over just a little, like he’d seen the script.

Perfect.

Which meant he didn’t see Danny vaulting up from his spot on the floor and wasn’t even a little prepared for an entire scrawny but muscular young man to land squarely straddling his shoulders, his added weight and momentum pitching Croc forwards and down to the ground.

Danny rode him down like a rodeo champ, leaning back and grinning at Jason as a hail of batarangs came from the ceiling.

“Come here often?” He asked cheerfully as Croc roared, clawed hands swiping up just after Danny rolled away down his back.

Jason snorted a laugh, pulling free as well and backing away.

Fucking danger twink. Yeah, he was kinda in love.

——————-

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dpxdc #dp x dc #dead on main ship #the inevitable rogue attack #danny fenton x jason todd #and here is where shit gets real #nobody correctly guessed who was coming #but i’m gonna keep making you wait 😈#also for sam’s pov we’ll get her at the real climax of the event

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worldsbiggestnerd101 · 2 years ago

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people of agblr (or really just dollblr), i have a question: do y’all have a comfort doll? and i don’t mean a favorite doll, no - i mean a doll with sentimental value attached to it that really just makes you feel a bit better.

in my case, it’s my samantha doll, who i got for my birthday back in 2017. she’s my second doll, and she was by FAR my favorite (sorry melody!) for the longest time. out of the two i had at the time, she looked the most like me, and i just liked her outfits better, not to mention her hair was perfect for styling. she came with me on most of my trips to the AG store, and she’s the only doll whose ears i’ve pierced to this day. i still remember being told by my mom to not brush out her hair because it would lose its curl and eventually ignoring this advice because i got sick of the knots (no, i did NOT brush it correctly, and her hair is fried now as proof 😭). i remember talking to my then teacher about dolls and hearing her tell me about how she remembered the dolls from when she was younger. (i believe i got my interest in molly from her! i found “molly saves the day” in a bin of books and it was my first glimpse into her stories!) i lost interest in her for a while, other dolls taking up my attention, but recently the sentimental value attached to her suddenly hit me. she’s precious, and i love her to bits. she’s definitely a source of comfort to me and just helps me out sometimes. she’s currently my homework buddy (she sits on my desk while i work just because) and it’s just so nice to have something that makes me feel a little better after a long day.

#agblr #ag dolls #and before anyone says anything about the teacher thing #i’m a younger collector

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lexiweston · 2 years ago

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⋙ did you see LEXI WESTON at that rager last night? i think they major in COMMUNICATIONS as a SENIOR. from what i hear they’re CHARMING & OUTGOING, but they can be pretty SELFISH too, depending on who you ask. there was a rumor going around last semester that THEY KEYED THEIR TWIN’S TESLA AFTER A FIGHT, but it seems way too wild to be true- maybe i’ll get to know UCSB’s resident TROUBLED HEIRESS better & find out. [ SAMANTHA LOGAN // OOC: kyle, 24, est ]

@cybulletin

hey y’all! i’m kyle and this is my “intro” to my intro! you can find the full thing here, but i’ll be giving a little bit of tldr; here. if you would like to plot, hit the like button & i’ll reach out or you can message me either here on tumblr or on discord @ ya boi#0799 <3

lexi’s backstory:

raised by her grandparents due to a financially motivated conflict between them and her parents --- her grandparents are old money but her parents were just as wealthy ( though her grandfather owned 75% of her dad’s company ). never knew her parents and was unaware that she had a twin until she was eighteen ( when their parents & twin crashed their birthday party ).

never forgave their parents but managed to build a somewhat tense but mostly friendly relationship with their twin which is why they’re @ UCSB in the first place. ofc they destroyed that relationship about six months ago by demanding their parents buy the stocks that their grandfather had gifted them ( the 75% of shares in her father’s company ) which resulted in them being a lot less wealthy.

lexi’s personality:

their closest friends experience a side of lexi that is caring and generous and protective, while most folks probably never see that. publicly she can come across as selfish and vindictive, willing to go to great lengths to destroy those who wronged her, or at least those she believes wronged her.

pretty outgoing however and will make quick friends of anyone who is around, skilled at small talk & networking.

the kind of person to pull a sad drunk aside at a party and cheer them up.

#intro #cy.intro #idk what the tag is lol #i might change their label but wanted to put this out

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fictionalreads · 3 years ago

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This Is Us Season 6 Episode 10

Kid Randall

Does he feel left out?

Awe little Randall and Rebecca

Oh he just wants to be with his family. Even though they want to be able to swim with him. Well except for Kate. She was too scared.

Teen Randall

You wouldn’t be getting arrested if had just jumped the fucking fence Kate.

Randall do not approach that cop.

Okay. Maybe you were right.

NO KATE Y’ALL JUST ESCAPED GETTING ARRESTED DO NOT MAKE IT WORSE GO HOME

Awe!! The cookies!

Ah fuck. I’m crying again.

NOT THE PRESIDENCY DREAMS

Oh he lied to them to protect them.

Present Randall

She does have her reasons. Ones she has said to you before. You don’t listen to her wishes.

Okay Deja calm down. You still a child trying to move states.

NO SHE DID NOT SAY THAT TO HIM And no she did not disappear. This girl has lost it.

Okay rude Randall. She told you she made her choice and that was that. Also, you never listen to her and if she decides she doesn’t want treatment you won’t listen. That’s why she chose Kate over you.

LMAO HE SAID NOOOO I DONT WANNA HEAR THIS

Um don’t y’all have someone to be looking for.

Oh y’all not gonna go get her ass.

Rebecca. Not the giggle at a sticky floor.

Randall. Why are you acting like the room is a dump?

See? Just another reason that she didn’t choose you. You’ve already been doing it and now you need to live for you.

He always somewhere crying. 😂 But I love the security in his masculinity.

Awe Malik. He’s so hurt.

I’m talking about Randall crying but when Deja said “you’re my dad. You’re the only one I’ve ever had.” I cried.

Miscellaneous

Samantha you took one picture.

I WANT A FUTURE SCENE DAMNIT

#this is us #season 6 episode 10 #the final season #the final chapter #season 6 #episode 10 #randall pearson #deja pearson #beth pearson #rebecca pearson #kate pearson

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

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The Pretty Boy and the Purple Scarf - [Reid x Fem!OC]

masterlist

Summary: Sam is very surprised when she gets hand picked to join the BAU. She’s even more surprised to meet Dr. Spencer Reid. It’s not surprising that she would develop feelings for him...but he can’t feel the same way. Can he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Original Character

Word Count: 7.9k

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Content Warning: Unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer, light bondage, oral sex (female receiving), language.

A/n: This fic was a commission I did for @imjusthereformggcontent‘s birthday. She told me last night that it was “so good” and it “deserved to see the light of day.” She was being overly kind as usual, but here it is. I wrote this in second person which is a bit ooc for me. I hope y’all like it. 😊

--The Pretty Boy and the Purple Scarf--

Everything about the day you transferred from the 4th floor to the 6th floor was unexpected. You had only heard of Aaron Hotchner by reputation, but you’d never actually seen the man.

Which is why you were very surprised when he came down to the 4th floor and personally requested you be reassigned to the 6th floor; truth be told, that requested sounded more like a demand. You barely had time to gather your things before you were on the elevator upstairs.

You had been greeted by a very bubbly blonde woman in hot pink high heels. She had squealed with joy when the doors slid open and she caught sight of you.

“I knew you were the right choice!” She had chirped, teetering towards you. “Your work record is phenomenal, you passed all the background checks, and you’ve technically already taken the required psych courses to be a profiler.” She was positively shaking with excitement. “And you’re as cute a stinking button and look at your hair!”

Several minutes later the woman introduced herself as Penelope Garcia. Not only was she the technical analyst for the BAU, but she also split the responsible of communications liaison with the unit chief.

She then informed you that these duties would now be split between three people, SSA Hotchner, herself…and you.

Once the initial shock had worn off, you were thrilled. You had taken the psychology courses because you had always been fascinated by the behaviors of others. You had joined the FBI because you wanted to help people.

This was your dream job!

But you’d be lying if you said that those were the only reasons that working with the behavioral analysis unit was your dream job.

When Garcia had introduced you to the team that very first day, you clicked with every member right away. David Rossi always offered you a fatherly smile whenever he saw you, Prentiss and Garcia had invited you out to their girl’s night multiple times. Derek Morgan had taken to calling you “pretty girl” which never failed to make you smile. Even Aaron Hotchner was friendly towards you…well, as friendly as he could be. Occasionally you saw his mouth twitch whenever you made a sarcastic comment; you took that to mean that he probably liked you at least a little bit.

While that was also wonderful…it wasn’t why this was your dream job.

During that very first meeting, Garcia had introduced you to everyone in the conference room. They all smiled warmly at you and offered a handshake.

“And this is our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid,” Garcia had introduced with a wave of her hand.

Dr. Spencer Reid was easily the most unexpected part of the day. He looked at least a few years older than you, so you were surprised that he had the doctor honorific, but the most startling thing was what he looked like. He was tall, possibly the tallest person in the room, with a slim build and unruly curly brown hair. His straight white teeth were dug into his bottom lip while he fidgeted nervously. And then there were his eyes. You now knew that they were brown with flecks of gold near the center, but in that light, they had actually looked like honey.

You offered him your hand, anticipating that he would greet you the way the others had; but nothing about Spencer Reid was ordinary.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead while he stared at your hand.

“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering,” he informed you, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room. “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

Out of all the things you could have said in that moment, you decided to tease him. “I mean, you’re cute. I wouldn’t say no if that’s how you wanna introduce yourself.”

A choked laugh exploded out of SSA Morgan at your comment. “Oh shit!” He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Watch out, she’s got your number, Pretty Boy!”

Pretty Boy, you thought. It definitely fits.

The rest of the team had shared in Morgan’s amusement. Even Spencer had seemed amused; amused and thoroughly embarrassed. The apples of his cheeks had turned bright red.

You just shot him a slightly awkward smile because holy fuck he was cute, especially when he was embarrassed.

Later after the rest of the team had left the conference room and returned to the bullpen, you saw Reid standing in front of the coffee station in the kitchenette.

“Hey,” you called, coming up to his side. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in there. I’m Sam.”

He offered a small smile in your direction while he poured an ungodly amount of sugar in his coffee. “Oh, you didn’t. I was 12 years old when I graduated from a Las Vegas public high school. I’m tougher than I look.”

“Dr. Reid is tougher than he looks,” you joked, crossing your arms over your chest. “Got it. I can’t promise I won’t tease you again.”

He just laughed. “If you’re going to tease me then you can just call me Spencer.”

Things had started to change about 3 weeks after that. You had finally gotten more comfortable around the team, Spencer included. True to his word, he didn’t seem to mind that you had teased him a few times over the weeks. It was all harmless stuff, of course.

“Cute tie, pretty boy” or “sweater vests are an odd choice, but I’m into it.”

Derek was thoroughly amused, telling you more than once that your remarks to Spencer were the highlight of his day and that he wished you had joined the team sooner.

Throughout all those comments, Spencer never teased you back. He’d duck his head, trying to hide the blush on his face, or he’d just smile at you.

That all changed one morning while you were standing at the coffee station. Garcia had joked that she never drank coffee before working here, but it was like the machine had some sort of hold over everyone. After almost a month here, you were starting to believe it.

You liked coffee, sure, but only if it didn’t taste too much like coffee. You were honestly concerned about people like Hotch who drank black coffee; it just seemed like they must have been through something.

“And you tease me for how much sugar I put in my coffee,” a voice said from beside you, barely able to conceal a chuckle that followed their words. “Jesus Christ, Samantha.”

You turned to smile up at him, your green eyes meeting his warm brown ones. “Nice try, pretty boy. I’m putting a perfectly reasonable amount of sugar in my coffee. I don’t use nearly as much sugar as you do.”

“Probably not,” he conceded, propping his hip up against the counter. “You’re sweet enough anyway.”

Your eyes went impossibly wide at his words, you were stunned. So stunned that you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your throat.

Dr. Spencer Reid looked just as surprised at his words as you did, two bright pink spots appearing on the apples of his cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” he squeaked out, his voice laced with embarrassment.

“You’re never going to hear me complain about you flirting with me, Dr. Reid.”

“You can call me Spencer, Samantha,” he reminded.

His words were so soft you were afraid you’d misheard him. Based on the slightly awkward look on his face, you could tell you didn’t. “Okay Spencer,” you breathed out, testing how his name felt in your mouth.

He started to turn to walk away before you found your voice again. “Oh, and you can just call me Sam. Everybody else does.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. “I know, but if it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to keep calling you Samantha.”

The tension in the air seemed to thicken at his words. How did Spencer just saying your name have this sort of effect on you? Trying to keep your composure, you just nodded. “S-sure, Spencer. You can call me Samantha if you want.”

His nervous demeanor melted away. “Good.” He had turned back around and crossed the room before you even realized what had happened.

After that day, a sort of odd friendship had started between you and Spencer Reid. What had begun as awkward flirting attempts every once in a while from him were becoming more and more frequent, and a little bit bolder in nature. You loved that he was getting more comfortable with you.

But you couldn’t ignore how things had started to shift inside you over the past few months.

Talking to Spencer was the highlight of your day. Every time he called you Samantha when the rest of the world called you Sam, you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mood always lifted whenever you listened to him talk about something he was passionate about.

One of your favorite things was how his cheeks would turn just a bit red whenever he stopped by your desk on one of his many trips to the coffee pot.

“Hey, can I get you a cup?” He’d offer, tapping his fingers against the desk.

You’d always smirk at him. “This is a weird flirting strategy, Pretty Boy,” you’d say, your voice teasing. “Not that I mind watching you walk away.”

The first time you had made that joke it took Spencer a second to get your meaning; the moment he did he flushed beet red.

Even though he acted embarrassed by your comments, he still stopped by your desk multiple times a day. Whenever he did bring you back a cup of coffee it was always made perfectly, just the way you liked it.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago when you realized what these shifting feelings had meant. You all were working a difficult case in South Dakota that was really getting to you. During a coffee run, Spencer brought you back a white chocolate mocha. When you’d looked up at him, your brows drawn together in confusion, he’d just smiled at you before he shuffled away.

Spencer Reid was becoming one of your best friends…and you were not so slowly falling for him.

The day after you got back to Quantico from Sioux Falls, you were back in the kitchenette, only this time you were getting your lunch. You normally ate lunch with either Spencer or Penelope, but you hadn’t seen the Pretty Boy since this morning.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you didn’t even realize the very person you were thinking about had snuck up on you.

“What’s that?” His voice asked from beside you, causing you to jump slightly.

“Jesus, Spence,” you mumbled, embarrassed for your reaction. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

He just smiled at you, causing your heart to beat a bit faster. “You’ve never called me Spence before,” he said softly, his eyes searching your face. “Plus, I like scaring you. And you didn’t answer my question.”

It was hard to remember anything when he smiled like that. “Oh,” you said, shaking your head slightly in an attempt to clear it. “What’s what?”

He took a step closer to you. “You have something on your wrist.”

You were taken aback at first, because how the fuck did he see that? Nobody had ever seen that tattoo unless they knew it was there. It’s impossible, Garcia must have told him about it, you had reassured yourself.

His warm hands touched your arm, pulling it closer to him while his thumb traced over the almost invisible ink on your wrist.

“Is this a tattoo?” he asked softly, bending his head down to inspect it further. “I knew about the one on the back of your neck, but I didn’t know you had this one.”

You felt your stomach flutter. He had noticed the one on the nape of your neck too?

“Y-yeah,” you managed to get out. “It’s an anchor.”

Spencer made a noise of acknowledgment, his thumb still softly rubbing over the skin of your wrist. "It's interesting. You know, originally the anchor was a symbol of safety. It wasn't until years later that it got a newer meaning."

It was so hard for you to focus when he was near you, but now he was touching you too?

"Now it's a symbol of hope," he mumbled, his head lifting, his warm brown eyes locking on to your own. "It suits you, Samantha." With that, he dropped your arm and turned to get a mug for his coffee.

Now that he wasn’t invading your senses with his presence, you could gather your thoughts slightly. “How did you know about my tattoo, Spencer?”

He didn’t look up from his caffeine driven task. “A good magician never reveals his secrets,” he said cryptically.

You scoffed, earning a chuckle from him. Spencer turned; his amber-colored eyes were swirling with mischief, but also something a bit deeper. It didn't just feel like he was looking at you; it felt like he was looking into you. It felt like he really wanted to see you in the way that all people crave to be seen. He wanted to understand you.

He took a small step closer, his hand reaching up to brush over one of the green pieces in your long brown hair. “Maybe I just pay more attention to you than you think,” he whispered before he pulled away, leaving you stunned.

He was already back at his desk before you collected your thoughts.

Spencer Reid…couldn’t feel that way about you, could he?

Your feelings about Spencer were starting to seep into the front of your mind, no matter what you did to try and keep them at bay. What made matters worse is that you worked with profilers, the best profilers. How were you supposed to keep your feelings hidden from them?

You decided the best thing to do was try to put some distance between yourself and Spencer. It was extremely hard to do, considering all you wanted to do was be near him; but he just kept making these teasing little comments.

Of course, like most things in life, your plan didn’t go work out. You had been avoiding Spencer for exactly 3 and a half hours before he made his move.

You were coming out of Garcia’s lair when you felt a hand clap around your forearm, jerking you to a stop.

Now, you were normally not an overly clumsy person, but when your momentum gets shifted so quickly, it’s only natural to stumble a bit. You turned and tripped over your feet, causing you to tumble into a very warm person.

One of his large hands caught your shoulder, steading you. Your eyes traveled up, up, up, to meet the beautiful eyes of the one and only, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Why do you insist on scaring the shit out of me?” you scolded, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand.

He looked completely unbothered. “I wouldn’t have had to scare you if you weren’t avoiding me.”

Your mouth popped open in surprise. “I’m not avoiding you!” you protested.

Spencer’s eyebrows pulled together. “Then why haven’t I seen you in the last three hours, thirty-five minutes and seventeen seconds?”

You couldn’t control your snort at his comment. “You’re so weird, do you know that?”

Something happened to Spencer's face just then; his whole expression seemed to soften somehow. "You don't mind that I'm weird though, do you, Samantha?"

Those pesky butterflies erupted in your stomach again, reminding you of your complicated feelings. You took a step back, plastering a friendly smile on your face…at least you hoped.

“You’re a weirdo, but you’re my weirdo, Spence.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s weirdo,” he quipped, shifting closer to you. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes.

“Good, because you’re stuck with me.”

His face turned thoughtfully before he spoke again. “You know,” Spencer said quietly, taking a step closer to you. “Your eyes have some yellow in them around the center. It’s almost like they’re sunflowers.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “Spence…you-you can’t…you can’t just say shit like that to me.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Because it makes me feel…It just makes me feel.”

“Is that bad?”

I don’t know. “No,” you decided. “I don’t guess it is.”

Those warm brown eyes continued to scan over your face. “No more avoiding me,” he ordered, pointing his index finger at you.

“I wasn’t avoiding you!”

He stepped away then, but not before he reached out and tugged on one of the green strands in your hair. “You’re a terrible liar, Samantha,” he informed you, before walking down the hall towards the bullpen.

“I really hope I’m not,” you muttered under your breath. You had to be a good liar right now…because what if how you were feeling made you lose your best friend?

“I need the BAU team in the conference room,” Hotch’s voice boomed out across the bullpen. “Now.”

You wrinkled your nose slightly; no cases had come in today…So why are we meeting in the conference room?

“Come on, Pretty Girl,” Morgan said when he walked by your desk. “You better hustle or else I’m gonna be the one that sits beside your Pretty Boy.”

“No, you’re not,” Spencer called out. He was already walking into the conference room, his eyes fixed on your face until the moment he entered the room.

“Uh-oooohhh,” Morgan teased, his mouth in a wide smile. “Pretty Boy is getting a little territorial, miss thing. It won’t be long now.”

Your face scrunched in confusion. “Won’t be long until what?” you asked but he was already running into the conference room. “Morgan!”

No matter how much you told yourself otherwise, you couldn’t help but feel like things were slightly different with Spencer. He had never been overly affectionate with people, but you were his friend, it wasn’t all that uncommon for him to hug you or brush up against you.

It was just that he seemed to be doing it so much more often. He was always sitting beside you on the jet, at the round table, he was even coming by your desk more than usual.

What’s more, he seemed to have a bit more confidence than normal.

You were almost positive you weren’t imagining it or letting your feelings influence your judgment.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer asked, his leg extending so he could poke your shin with the tip of his converse. You had decided to sit in one of the seats at the back of the plane; you were thinking of it as an experiment to test your theory. There was no seat directly beside of you, making the closest one the seat in front of you that was faced in your direction. In all the time you had known him, Spencer had never sat back here if other seats were available.

When he boarded the jet an hour ago his eyes had sought you out immediately, making his way to that set before flopping down into it.

Well, you had thought. I’m not totally crazy.

“I’m not thinking about anything,” you insisted, your eyes never lifting from your kindle. Spencer detested that you used an e-reader, but unlike him, you didn’t exactly feel like stuffing your go bag with heavy ass books.

He huffed. “One day I’m going to punish you for lying to me, Samantha.”

Your head flew up. “What!?” you hissed out in a loud whisper.

Spencer just lowered his eyes back to his book. “You heard me.”

The case had been a quick one to solve, thankfully. You hadn’t even been in town for 2 full days and the Tulsa police had already processed the unsub’s arrest, leaving your team free to go.

You probably could have gone home tonight if it wasn’t for the storm. There wasn’t actually a storm here that was the problem, it was the one that is Quantico. No matter how homesick anyone felt, it seemed like a unanimous decision to stay here one more night.

The team had arrived back at the hotel about 15 minutes ago, meaning you had only been in your room for 5 minutes when there was a knock on the door.

You had a sinking feeling in your gut that when you opened that door, you'd be met by a pair of warm brown eyes and wild light brown curly hair. It's not that you didn't want to see Spencer; the problem was how much you did want to see Spencer. No matter how many times you told yourself that the flirting was harmless, and he didn't feel the way you did, it didn't seem like your heart had gotten the message.

Maybe it’s not him, you thought. Maybe…maybe it’s a murderer.

No such luck was to be had, of course. You opened up the door to see the smiling, painfully handsome face of Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Spencer,” you laughed out. “We’ve only been here for like 10 minutes.”

The man just nodded, stepping around you and striding into your hotel room like he had a right to be there. "Can't I come to see my best friend?"

You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at him calling you his best friend. “You just saw me.”

“No,” he argued. “I last saw you 8 minutes and 13 seconds before you opened your door.”

Heaving out a loud sigh, you just shook your head and continued pulling things out of your go-bag.

“You don’t mind that I’m here, do you?”

That gave you pause. He didn’t sound like the confident Spencer you’d been seeing the past few weeks. He seemed like the awkward Dr. Spencer Reid who had blushed to the roots of his hair when you made a joke about kissing him.

You shot him a soft smile. “Of course I don’t mind, Spencer. You know I just like to tease you.” He seemed relieved at your answer as he went to sit on the edge of your bed. “And you seem to like teasing me too.”

“Who said I’m teasing?”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re gonna be in here, make yourself useful.” You handed him your phone charger. “Put that in my go bag.”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, not trying to hide his smile at your bossy tone. “Why am I putting this…what’s this?”

You turned your head to see the purple fabric in his hands. “A scarf? Have you never seen a scarf before?” you teased. “Some genius you are.”

His face pulled a sour look at your words that made you smile harder. “I just haven’t seen it before. I like it.” Spencer started wrapping the scarf around his neck.

“Wow, Dr. Reid,” you called out, your eyes running over his form. “Very sexy. You’re gonna drive the girls wild.”

"There's only one person I'm interested in driving wild," he said softly before he snapped back into his teasing tone. "Purple is my favorite color, you know."

You weren’t even thinking when you said, “I know, that’s why I picked it.” Spencer’s head swung in your direction, clearly surprised by your words. “Anyway,” you hurried out. “Maybe you should keep it; you look adorable Spencie.”

He hated it when anyone called him Spencie and you knew that. You had made the comment to hopefully throw him off from your confession that you picked out that scarf because it reminded you of him.

“What happened to sexy?!” he demanded. “I do not look adorable.” His beautiful face was marred by a scowl.

You put your hands on your hips, giving him an exaggerated once over. “I don’t know, you look pretty adorable to me, Spencie.”

Spencer’s eyes had taken on a different look than you weren’t used to seeing directed at you. It was the same look he always had when he was trying to solve a problem. “You really think I’m just adorable, don’t you?”

Now it was your turn to look at him oddly. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” He took a step closer to you as soon as the words left your mouth, causing you to take a step back. “What are you doing?”

“Proving I’m not adorable,” he said, his words quiet but harsh.

"How-" You never got to finish your question; before you could even realize that he was moving his right hand wrapped around your throat, using his momentum to push you back one final step until you were pressed between the wall and his body.

You blinked up at him, trying to ignore how all of this made you feel. Even in this situation, you still couldn’t believe that Spencer was actually attracted to you the way you were to him. This is probably just like his Eastwood impression, you thought.

His head was bent down, bringing his face much closer to yours than you were used to. You could see the perpetual shadows he had under his remarkable eyes, the small crease in his skin between his eyebrows.

"Is this how you prove you're not adorable?" You had tried to make your tone sound light like your heart wasn't about to beat out of your chest, but it hadn't worked. Your voice sounded breathy and curious even in your own ears.

He looked over your face one final time, looking for some sort of emotion that he must have found because the next instant his grip on your throat got slightly tighter. His face moving so much closer to yours that your noses almost brushed.

“No,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips. “This is.”

Before you could process his words, his lips finally brushed against yours. He was hesitant at first, but he grew bolder when you gasped against his mouth.

How many times had you imagined this moment? Yearned for it? And somehow the feeling of his body against yours was more than you had ever imagined. He was more than you ever imagined.

He took advantage of the gasp you let out, his kiss growing more hungry, more frantic. His body pushed into yours, his thigh coming forward to wedge between both of yours. You were vaguely aware of his hand leaving your throat, but all thought left your head when you felt both of his hands cradled your face. His thumb rubbed against your cheek while he tilted your head where he wanted it.

Spencer Reid was in complete control of this kiss, and you were getting swept away.

His tongue brushed over your bottom lip, seeking entrance to the heat of your mouth. He groaned low in his throat when you immediately opened for him, the movements of your tongue just as bold as his. When your hands came up to grip his sides, one of his hands slid to the back of your head, his long fingers tangling in your hair.

There wasn't a moment of unsureness in this kiss; Spencer kissed you like he had done it a thousand times before. Eventually, the need for air became too great, causing you to break apart. You whimpered slightly when his teeth caught your bottom lips, tugging at it while he pulled his mouth away.

“I’m not adorable,” he panted out against your mouth.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at him in wonder. “I got that.”

His thumb moved over to run against your bottom lip. “No,” he whispered, his eyes scanning yours. “I don’t think you do.”

Those words seemed to hold a greater meaning that you couldn't quite put your finger on. How was anyone's mind supposed to work correctly when this man was standing so close?

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

"Yes." Because of course, you did.

For that moment he looked unsure like he was battling with something he wanted so desperately but was too afraid to reach out and grab. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

You didn’t get to ask him what he meant before he was on you again. This kiss was filled with the same passion as the last, but his hands had begun to roam around your body. Down to your throat, over your shoulders, brushing against the sides of your breast, and the sides of your waist, until they came to the bottom of your shirt.

He pressed his thigh more firmly against the part of you that ached for this man. When you groaned into his mouth, he broke away, his mouth trailing kisses across your cheek, then down to your neck.

Spencer gripped the bottom of your shirt, his thumbs ghosting against your skin before he started pushing it up your body.

Through the fog of lust in your brain, you realized what he was doing, causing you to tense slightly. He must have felt the shift in your body because he pulled his head up from its place against your skin, his eyes searching your face.

“We don’t have to do this, Samantha,” he whispered.

“No!” Your voice came out in a rush. “No, Spence I want to. I really want to.” He smirked at your words, one of his hands coming up to brush over the green streaks in your hair, his eyes still filled with fire, but somehow so incredibly soft.

“Spence, it’s just…I don’t know…I’m not…and you’re so…you’re so hot!”

He huffed out a laugh at your words, bringing the hand that had been touching your hair over to cradle the left side of your face. “You have to know that I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.”

But how could you have known that?

“Samantha, you have no idea how I feel every fucking time I look at you.” He brought his mouth down again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to both of your cheeks. “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

You felt your breath catch. “Do it then.”

Spencer looked unsure for just a moment before he looked into your eyes again. "They really do look like sunflowers," he muttered to himself. "If you want me to stop, just tell me to stop."

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

He just smirked down at you before his entire demeanor changed. “We’ll see. Take off your shirt, Samantha.”

You were shocked at the sudden amount of authority in his tone.

“I won’t ask again, Pretty Girl.”

You were still slightly nervous, but the pull inside of you to obey his words was so much stronger than any sort of insecurity you felt. It was if your hands moved automatically, gripping the bottom of your shirt before tugging it over your head.

Spencer’s eyes ran over your newly exposed skin, lingering over your breasts. He reached his hand out towards you, his fingers brushing from your collarbones down to the tops of your breasts. Once they reached the edge of your bra, he paused, looking at you again.

“Your skin is soft, it’s like you were made to be touched,” he mused, unwinding the scarf from his neck. “Take this off. I’ve waited long enough to see your tits.”

Shocked at his words, you once again complied immediately. When your upper body was completely bared to him, he released another groan. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You felt yourself almost blush at his words.

“Hold your hands out.” Both of your arms extended in front of you. Your eyes went impossibly wide when he brought both off your wrists together before winding your scarf around them, binding you.

“I’d prefer to tie you to the bed, but this will have to do for now.” The scarf was secured now, but you knew you could break out of it if you needed to. “I want you to lay on the bed, raise your arms over your head.”

Once you had reached the position he had instructed, you turned to watch him. He had taken his tie off before he came to your room, leaving him in just a button-down shirt and his slacks. The placement of your arms brought your breasts higher; a sight Spencer must have enjoyed based on how long his gaze stayed there.

Before you were ready, he started removing his shirt. He looked so slim in his clothes; you hadn’t expected his body to look so well defined. Spencer Reid without a shirt was quite a sight to behold.

He joined you on the bed, his face hovering over your own. “I left my pants on because if I don’t have anything to stop me, I’m not going to be able to hold back. I’ll fuck you until you scream.”

You whimpered at his words. “Don’t worry my pretty girl, we’ll get there. But I want to savor you first. Keep your hands where they are, if you move them, I will punish you. Do you understand?”

You were struggling to think, his hands were moving over your skin again, those long fingers finally touching your breast, moving closer to your nipple.

“I asked you a question, Samantha.”

“Yes,” you responded, licking your lips.

Suddenly his fingers reached your nipple, he ghosted his thumb against the bud before he gave it a sharp pinch. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

He groaned at the sound of his honorific leaving your lips before he gave you a smile that was almost predatory. Spencer shoved your thighs apart, bringing his body to settle against you. You could feel how hard he was against you, even though all of your clothes.

He only gave you a brief, soft kiss before he started moving down your body. He wasted no time now. His lips closed over the tip of one breast while his hand cupped the other.

“Oh my god,” you moaned out, already trying to rock your body against his. That feeling got more frantic when you felt his teeth graze against you before he started to suck you into his mouth hard. His hand left your breast, moving down your stomach until he found the fastenings of your pants.

With a pop, the button sprang free; the sound of the zipper lowering was so loud in the otherwise silent room. The shifting of your hips got more and more desperate when you felt his fingertips run across the elastic band of your panties.

With one final nip of his teeth, he lifted his head, staring down at you. “Such a needy girl.” He pushed his body off of yours, coming to rest on his knees between your thighs.

His hand both moved to your sides, just above your pants. He raked his fingers down the skin until he caught the waistbands of your pants and panties. Spencer revealed you to his gaze slowly; so slowly you were afraid you would spontaneously combust.

Once he had you completely naked on the bed, he ran his hands over your legs, admiring you.

“I was right to leave my pants on,” he chuckled. “It’s taking everything I have not to wrap your thighs around me and finally fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimpered out when his hand ghosted over the skin of on the inside of your knee.

“Soon, pretty girl. But first, I’d rather find out how those thighs feel wrapped around my head.”

You forgot how to breathe at his words. He leaned down, shifting farthing down the bed. Spencer's mouth moved over the skin of your inner thighs with a trail of wet, open mouth kisses.

When he finally reached his destination, he turned his head to the side pressing one finally kiss against your thigh before his teeth caught the skin. The sensation caused you to buck your hips.

“Hold still, Samantha,” he breathed against you. “I want you to hold still while I make you cum with my mouth. Can you do that?”

You weren’t sure if you could, but you bit your lip and nodded anyway.

“That’s my good girl.” That was the last thing he said before he pressed a kiss to your pussy.

His tongue ran against the entirety of your slit once before he parted you with his thumbs. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re so wet, pretty girl. You’re absolutely soaked for me.”

Even if you had wanted to respond to his words, you couldn’t have, because right after he finished speaking his tongue tapped against your clit. Using all the willpower you had, you tried to keep your hips still while his tongue made slow circles around your clit before moving down to your entrance.

He ran his tongue around it before he speared it inside of you, his thumb coming up to rub your clit while he fucked you with his tongue.

“You taste so good,” he moaned against you. The sensation making your legs shake.

“Please, please Doctor.” Your voice was a whine. Seeing Spencer Reid’s head between your thighs was the sexiest thing on the planet.

You could feel his mouth turn up in a smirk. His thumb kept its tortuously slow pace. “Please what, Samantha?”

“Please make me cum, please.”

You felt his other hand move over to your opening, two fingers entering you without warning, causing you to arch your back.

He withdrew them immediately at your movement, raising his upper body to look at you. You were not expecting it when his hand came down against your pussy in a sharp slap.

“Fuck!”

“I told you to hold still, Samantha.”

Your thighs were shaking in your efforts. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I’m trying.”

He smiled, running his tongue over his lips. “I know, Pretty Girl.”

His fingers pushed back inside of you, curling up. He shifted his hand slightly until he brushed again the spot inside of you that caused you to moan out a broken plea.

Your eyes had closed in both pleasure and as a show of self-control. If you saw what Spencer was doing to your body right now there was no way you’d be able to stop yourself from moving.

When you felt his mouth close around your clit, you were unable to keep your eyes shut. You had to look at him. His eyes were closed in bliss, his arm moving at a faster past.

His eyes snapped open and his mouth lifted when you moaned out his name. “Are you gonna cum, Pretty Girl?” he teased. “I can feel your tight little pussy squeezing my fingers. Fuck. I’m so fucking hard just thinking about what it will feel like when you cum all over my cock.”

“Spencer, please. I’m so close Please.”

He moved his mouth back down to the seam of your body. “You’ve been such a good girl, Samantha. You can move now, but your arms stay where they are. I want you to fuck this pretty pussy on my face. Can you do that?”

You nodded, your hips already moving to grind against him, seeking out your own pleasure. When his lips took your clit into his mouth, sucking softly, while his fingers curled into you, you were unable to control the loud moan that came out of your mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

Spencer’s fingers still moved inside of you, bringing you through your orgasm. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh as he removed his fingers when you finally started to come down from your orgasm, he then put his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before he spoke. “I’ve thought about how you’d look after you came for me so many times,” he said quietly, moving up your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “This is better than I imagined.”

You tried to deepen the kiss, but you knew you couldn’t move your arms yet.

“You’re not done, are you baby?” He laughed when you frantically shook your head “no.” You didn’t think you’d ever be done with this man.

His hand shot up to wrap around your throat; he applied pressure to the sides to restrict the blood flow. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, Samantha."

You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his hand against you.

“Still such a needy girl,” he teased. “Now, you’re not done, are you?”

“No Doctor,” you rasped out.

Spencer smiled before he brought his mouth to yours again. He didn’t remove his hand from your throat while his tongue slicked into your mouth. It twirled against your own until he sucked the tip of your tongue into his mouth.

He pulled away with a groan. “I can’t fucking stand this anymore.” His hands moved to his pants, undoing them in a flash. You caught sight of him inside of his underwear. He palmed himself, his eyes on your face before he finally peeled those down too.

Spencer was well above average in everything else, it wasn’t surprising that he was here too. His hand wrapped around his cock, giving a few pumps while his eyes ran over your body.

“Turn over.”

You moved onto your stomach; Spencer pulling you up on to your knees. You felt both of his hands run over your ass until his right one lifted.

He gripped his cock in his hand, bringing it to your dripping center. Even that powerful orgasm hadn’t satisfied your desire for this man.

You felt the head of his cock slip into you, causing you both to groan. “Fucking Christ,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He started to slowly fuck himself into you, going deeper with every thrust. Your upper body was propped up on your elbows, your head hanging between them. You had never felt so overwhelmed by a man like this before.

With one final thrust, his hips slapped against your ass as he filled you completely.

Your face dropped into the pillow when he started to move; you were unable to control how loud you were moaning.

Those long fingers tangled in your hair again, pulling your head up. “No,” he growled, his rhythm never faltering. “I’ve thought about fucking you for too long. I want to hear you, do you understand.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip while your hips pushed back against him. "Yes, Doctor."

“Good girl,” was all he said but he didn’t release your hair.

This was a torture of the sweetest kind. Your hands were bound, both of his hands were holding you in place while he fucked you in an almost primal way, but you need to touch your clit so badly you could cry. You were already so close again.

Spencer must have realized it then too. He pulled out of your body, causing a whine to slip from your throat, your hips pushing back to seek him out again.

“On your back, Pretty Girl.” He helped you roll, settling himself between your thighs again. His fingers ran over the bindings on your wrists before he brushed his mouth against yours.

He gripped his cock again, lining it up with your entrance before he slowly started to sink into you. He pulled your legs up higher around his waist, pulling him deeper. You both groaned at the sensation.

Spencer started rocking against you, his pelvis grinding against your clit. He kissed you again, both of his lips covering your top lip.

You let out another whimper when his pace quickened.

“I should be so mad at you, Samantha,” he rasped against your lips. “You’ve kept this perfect pussy away from me for too long.”

His words caused you to clench around him. He lifted his upper body again, only this time one hand when to your throat, the other moving between your bodies.

You felt his thumb circle your clit while his fingers choked you again. “Come on, Samantha. I want you to cum for me, pretty girl.” Your head was thrashing against his hold, your body moving against his desperately. “I can feel it; cum on my cock baby.”

You might have screamed when the orgasm broke inside of you but you lost all sense of time and space when you came for him. Spencer's pace never slowed, his hands lifting from you to grab onto the headboard. His thrusts were brutal and seemed to extend your own orgasm.

With one final thrust, he groaned out “Samantha”, a look that you would remember for the rest of his life on his face while he found his release inside of you.

He quickly reached up and undid the bindings around your wrist with one movement. You brought your arms down, wincing at the pins and needles feeling.

“Sore?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing over your wrists.

“It was worth it,” you teased.

He smirked up at you. “So, am I still adorable?”

“I don’t know,” you pretended to consider him. “There isn’t enough data to reach a conclusion. You’re a man of science, you should know that.”

“Only you would make a science joke at a time like this.”

“It’s why you like me.”

His gaze softened, his hand cradling your face again. “It’s one of the reasons.”

You hadn’t gotten a chance to really talk to Spencer since that night in Oklahoma. He had slept in your room, causing both of you to rush around frantically the following morning so you wouldn’t miss the plane.

Then you had a full day of paperwork before Penelope insisted that everyone needed to unwind and have fun. So, against everyone’s will, she had dragged us to a bar nearby.

Now it was the next day and you had a nervous sort of excitement fluttering in your stomach.

“It’s a bit warm for a scarf, Pretty Boy,” Morgan called out, startling you.

You had noticed your purple scarf was missing from your go bag but you just assumed you left it in the hotel room.

That was evidently not the case as Dr. Spencer Reid walked into the BAU bullpen with it wrapped around his neck.

“My neck gets cold,” he defended. “I’m not used to short hair yet.”

That seemed to satisfy everyone else, but you didn’t miss the smirk he sent your way, or how he placed the scarf on his desk where you could see it.

It wasn’t until after 10 am that you could finally get a chance to speak to him alone. He didn’t look at all surprised when you started walking towards his desk, he just turned his chair to face you, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“Are you going to give me my scarf back?” you questioned, your tone both amused and expectant.

Spencer just smiled at you, his cockiness seeming to have vanished. He looked almost nervous when he asked, “Are you going to go on a date with me?”

Despite all you had done, you couldn’t control the rush of surprise at his request. “Yes,” you informed him with a huge smile on your face.

His smile was just as earnest. “Finally,” he muttered, turning his chair back towards his desk. “And since you said ‘yes’, I think I’ll hang on to the scarf for a bit longer.”

-- The end.

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katnissmellarkkk · 4 years ago

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Alrightttt, I’m on a roll so we’re going onto chappy five 🥳🥳🥳😎😎

I know the movies made the Capitol — re: basically only Effie and maybe Caesar — have those ridiculous made up accents but .... I actually feel like the description of the Capitol accent in the book is supposed to be like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton’s voice. 🤷🏼‍♀️

“Why do these people speak in such a high pitch? Why do their jaws barely open when they talk? Why do the ends of their sentences go up as if they're asking a question? Odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s. no wonder it's impossible not to mimic them.” Like this is a pretty good description of how Kim Kardashian and her sisters talk. And Suzzy C did say she was inspired by the juxtaposition between war news footage and ridiculous reality television shows so... I think my theory of the Capitol all talking like they’re on the Real Housewives of LA is pretty valid.

Just imagine Paris Hilton as Effie and Nicole Richie as one of her preps

Lolololol this whole section of waxing is reminding me to go get my legs waxed 😭😭😭 straight up calling me out here, Suzanne

I like how Katniss says her stylist “apparently has no interest in seeing her until the prep team has addressed obvious problems.” Like you can tell from her narration she was expecting to feel the same was about Cinna that she does about Effie and her prep team.

The “gritty loam that takes off dirt and three layers of skin” is probably just a strong exfoliator 😭😭😭 my girl knows nothing about quality skincare 🤧🤧 someone build a Panem Sephora

She mentioned them waxing her underarms.... girl, did you have hairy armpits before this? Idk why this revelation is new to me

“Grease her down!” Just sounds wrong 😅😅😅😅 I need to stop being annoying omg I’m like a twelve year old

Hmm it’s funny to me that Katniss refers to Octavia as plump. You’d think in a place like the Capitol body image and weight would be very important. Unless it’s like back in the old, old days when being overweight was a sign of wealth. Which would make more sense so this was an unnecessary thought process curtesy of Samantha

Katniss faking a smile and thanking her prep team shows she does know how to play the game and fake it better than she says.

So ... okay, hear me out, I’m not trying to get over the top or make this into something it’s not but ... the whole stylists / Cinna coming into the room and staring at her naked is a little weird. Especially considering Cinna isn’t Lenny Kravitz who’s like a bit older than her but actually like a twenty-something year old dude.

But okay, here’s the thing I was getting at ... Cinna’s one of the best people in this series and you can’t deny that. Even if you find him boring, he’s still one of Katniss’ closest people. Also he’s probably gay. But like ... what about the other stylists? I don’t wanna be that person who makes everything more than it is, but like, this scene just sounds like a perfect opportunity for some Capitol creep to assault a teenager idk I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill just ignore Samantha okay.

That’s nice that he complimented her mama though 🥰🥰🥰

So Katniss calls District Twelve the least desirable district but ... doesn’t District Eleven suck too? Like she also later says District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest but doesn’t she also say Rue is worse off than her and Prim? Make up your mind, Suz.

Cinna claims he asked for District Twelve but did he really get an option? 😅 If it’s his first year and Katniss claims the newbies get them anyway 🤷🏼‍♀️ Samantha is once again, reading too much into this.

Awww, Katniss is thinking about how long it would take for her to assemble this fancy meal at home 🤧🤧🤧 it would take her days and the Capitol just has the necessary resources at their disposal and they just takes it for granted. And yes, I’m aware this is supposed to be calling all us readers out who take so much for granted I know. We’re the Capitol.

“How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?” It’s honestly so sad but so vital to her character that Katniss has zero hobbies or real free time. Her life is about surviving. She doesn’t get to live or enjoy very much of her time. She dedicates everything to keeping Prim — and her mother — alive, sacrificing everything a teenage girl should be doing. Sacrificing even the things the other girls in her world get to do. She mentions the merchant girls and the Seam girls who are more experienced romantically and sexually and socially than her. Because she doesn’t get to be a kid or innocent or even happy, in order to focus on her and her family’s survival. And the things she does enjoy, like spending time with Gale or dancing with Prim (mentioned in Mockingjay) she downplays in case they’re taken away, because nothing good is secure in her eyes. 🥺🥺🥺

Okay but what did Katniss’ facial expression give away that Cinna knew exactly what she was thinking? Or is she just less emotionless than she and Haymitch both claim? Ironically I think they’re the only people who call her emotionless which can easily be chalked up to their self-hate and terrible self-esteems.

Katniss is so afraid they’re gonna make her be naked for the parade 😭. Honestly though they’re children that’s so creepy that they’re even allowed to make 15/16/17 year olds be naked in a parade. I mean I know they kill kids every year but isn’t there like child pornography laws in Panem? 😭

“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?” Is so foreshadowing 😭😂😅😎 Caesar Flickerman’s voice “Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Honestly though Cinna is smart to make Katniss recognizable in the arena by leaving her with simple makeup. I know and the sky is blue we all know this already beating the dead horses until the farmer comes home.

“It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.” It’s true though 😅😅😅😭😭 he was always a rebel. I actually think he may have asked for District Twelve after Katniss volunteered, because he saw the potential in her. Poor Peeta. Baby, I’m rooting you for even if no one else is.

Also I always found it a bit .... curious? That Peeta had a female stylist and Katniss had a male one? Not just because of the required nudity, you’d just think men would do better as a boy’s stylist and a woman would make a better girl’s stylist. So yes, my whole Cinna was interested in District Twelve because Katniss seemed like a good symbol for a rebellion idea seems very plausible.

I know I know I know I read wayyy too much into this stuff sometimes a cigarette 🚬 is just a cigarette 🚬

Katniss being relieved when Peeta shows up 😭😭😭 because even if she won’t admit it and even if she won’t let herself trust him, she still sees him unconsciously and completely against her will as a comfort because they’re in this thing together in a way, even if they’re supposed to try and kill each other

And honestly, it’s such a like... relatable feeling? To feel alone and nervous and uptight and then someone who you recognize — even if you maybe aren’t even friends with but you at least know — shows up and you just instantly feel less alone. I’m totally looking at this through shipper goggles and I’m not even ashamed you all knew who’s blogging you were reading ight? 😂🤣🤷🏼‍♀️

“He should know about fire, being a baker's son and all.” And he’s gonna learn a lot more about it when he falls in love — for real, falls in love, not a childhood infatuation — with the girl on fire. 🥰🥰🥰

But also, I love this particular line on a reread because it totally is an indicator towards their future. Like Peeta knows about fire, he’s experienced with how to handle it, and later on, he becomes the only person who truly comes to understand Katniss, who represents fire, in a way that no one else could ever imagine.

Hmmm, Katniss’ point of view here, talking about how Portia and Peeta’s team seem all giddy and air-headed and it’s only Cinna who seems reserved makes me rethink my previous imaginings of Peeta’s stylist. Maybe she’s just a Capitolite idiot and nothing like Cinna. And my baby got a raw deal here then too. Good thing Haymitch loves him more. Just kidding 😅😅😅

But also I wanna know why Cinna is hesitant to accept congratulations for his and Portia’s idea? Wasn’t he at least lowkey excited about it when he pitched it a page ago?

Their horses are coal black 🐴 😅. I like that they went the whole nine yards with the theme. Nothing but the best for the kids on Death Row.

Aww Katniss asking Peeta what he thinks about being set on fire is so sweet and pure for some reason. I just find their commodore here cute ok

“I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine” this is literally their first friend type of interaction and it’s so pure y’all leave me be I’m emotional for them

🙃 Also lowkey reminds me of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Everyone look away ok I’m sorry

Peeta’s shady/annoyed Haymitch comment and Katniss’ joke at his expense 🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂🥲🥲☺️🥲🥲 they’re bonding it’s so presh

“And suddenly we're both laughing.” I hope they laugh a lot together post-canon 🥲🥲🥲. If they can make the other laugh during their terrible circumstances, then they can make the other laugh anywhere. 🤧 Except in Thirteen because he’s hijacked and she’s certifiable and they’re both so used and abused and 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay I have to say, Suzanne Collins really builds up a lot for certain events and then just like grazes over the actual action of said event? Like she builds towards the tribute parade but then kind of rushes through off the actual event itself? It’s a common theme in her writing. And I don’t like it at all ngl.

Oh wait she doesn’t actually rush the parade events the paragraph before just looked like she was about to I jumped the gun 🤣😂🤭 but what I said is still completely true for many events in these books sorry not sorry

I’m definitely reading too much into it but the fact that District One — the favorite of the Capitol — gets snow white horses and District Twelve gets coal black horsies kind of ... seems to imply something .... 🤭

Cinna just lets out a sigh of relief “it worked” like ... way to fill your tributes with hope, dude. “Yeah, you’re totally safe, don’t be scared-OH THANK GOD THAT WORKED I wasn’t actually sure you wouldn’t blow up.” But actually this answers my previous inquiry about why he seemed hesitant I guess he wasn’t even sure this wouldn’t burn them up that’s nice 🤭🙃

It’s a literal trial by fire *cue drum hit* 🥁 aww, I just cracked myself up 😭

“Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" This is caught halfway between being very Capitol-y and very father-brotherly and idk which way to take it but it’s kind of cute 🤭

“For the first time, I look at him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.” This is such a significant line because Katniss isn’t saying Peeta is technically good looking (like when Haymitch said they were decently attractive) or someone else thinks he’s good looking (i.e Gale, her mother and lowkey Finnick) but she’s saying she herself thinks he’s attractive. Girl, your crush is showing.

"I think he said for us to hold hands," says Peeta.” I’m sure Cinna actually did say that but this just seems like a very good opportunity for Peeta to hold the hand of the girl he has a massive crush on. 😭😭😭

Okay Cinna gave a thumbs up so he actually was saying that but can you imagine Peeta’s excitement right now?

I mean, yeahhhh, there’s the certain death looming over him too but like live in the moment, babe. 🥰😘🤗👌🏻

I like that Katniss says the crowd is at first like 😳😳😳 before they start cheering like they’re thinking “what are these backwoods, hillbilly kids doing this year?”

“At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces” okay they both have to be pretty naturally attractive people objectively, because you illuminate my face without much makeup and no one is gonna be cheering.

“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you! I hear Cinna's voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand.” I wonder what the true difference is for Katniss between Cinna and Effie saying this to her? Maybe it’s that Effie is just outright mean to her sometimes whereas Cinna shows her nothing but kindness from the start and expresses sympathy and understanding? It’s probably that he’s already earning her trust versus Effie who’s just cruel I’m not over her comments on the train ok

“I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.” Right from the start, Katniss refers to Peeta as solid and steady. Idk, I feel like this is something that the movies really misses along the way. Katniss wasn’t always strong or confident at all and Peeta, at least publicly, exuded those qualities pretty well. Samantha’s complaining again ™️ 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

Also this is just outright foreshadowing how Peeta will eventually become her rock. Or that he will be soon painted a rock ... pick and choose which way you wanna go with this. 🤷🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️😅🤣

“As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd.” Okay, see I feel like Peeta really gives Katniss confidence in herself. If he’d been there in District Thirteen and they’d done propos together, she probably would have been a thousand times better.

But also this makes me think Katniss actually has it in her to be a charismatic, confident, alluring celebrity. She just chooses not to. 🤗🤗🤗

But this also reminds me of “She has no idea the effect she can have” okay imma move on and stop focusing on every little detail

I say that every chapter 🤧😅

“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement.” Say whatever you want, Katniss is still such a girl underneath it all. She gets excited over people liking her and cheering her on. And I know it’s because it increases her chances of getting sponsors but still

Honestly Peeta trying to showcase Katniss and let her take the spotlight is so selfless and indicative of his ultimate plan to help her win but also ... I can see how Katniss would believe it’s too good to be true and he’s messing with her. That he’s just playing the game to earn her trust, get her guard down and manipulate her later.

See, Peeta is actually framed at the start like the typical, standard YA love interest turned villain. In majority of YA books, at this point the boy is kind and sweet and helpful to the girl until she trusts him completely and then he turns on her and uses everything she gave him to destroy her. But the difference is, Katniss refuses to truly trust him and she is guessing his game incorrectly at every step. And then it’s revealed that it was never a game and he truly isn’t messing with her and everything he’s done that’s seem too good to be true and not even remotely plausible has actually been genuine and heartfelt and that, my friends, is why Peeta is above all other YA love interests. Because Everlark is actually the foil to many of the cliches. That was a long speech over some incoherent thoughts I’m so sorry if you suffered through that.

“It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it.” Awww he is her rock 😭🤧🥺

"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing." Okay this part is so cute and so blatantly setting Peeta up as her main love interest omg 😅 this isn’t the least bit subtle or disguised. But first off, the fact that Katniss is also Peeta’s stability here too 😭😭😭 and second of all, she takes time to notice his blue eyes against the firelight? She was attracted to him from the very start, y’all. That’s indisputable. 👌🏻😎🤧

“It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.” I agree with you, baby, it’s not fair at all. But you two take care of that situation nicely. Or not. Y’all do start a dang war. 🤭🤭🙃🙃

It’s rather ... ironic that it’s District Twelve’s chariot of them all that is pulled up and stopped directly in front of President Snow’s mansion. I know it’s a book, certain details like this are definitively contrived, I know get over it. 🤦🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

So uh. Snow is a small thin man? Why do I suddenly imagine Danny Devito as Snow 😅😅😅😅🤣🤣🤣🤣 y’all know he’d kill the role

“The darker it becomes, the more difficult it is to take your eyes off our flickering.” Okay, this is such a great line and it’s so significant to the rest of the series? The fact that Katniss — and Peeta, let’s not forget our boy — became symbols of the revolution. Like this line is deep if you think about it. The worse things in Panem got, the more the civilians looked towards Katniss and Peeta for hope 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰

Omg now after Songbirds and Snakes, we know the national anthem. I’m sorry, babies, that you have to endure that I’ll get you out of there 🙉🙉🙉

I feel like in part, the Capitol camera crew — Cressida, Pollux .... Pollux’s brother... is that you here???? — put so much attention on District Twelve because it would create some resentment and competition between them and the careers 🤭🤗

“I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshone them all.” Insert Gretchen Wieners “I can’t help that I’m popular!” 😅😅😅😅😅

“I realize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.” — they were hanging on so tight 😭😭😭😭

“Thanks for keeping hold of me.” He’s so sweet ☺️☺️☺️ I love him even if he’s kind of an idiot sometimes but so is Katniss so let’s not point fingers

“I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. [...] And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness” Omg I know Katniss views this as him trying to manipulate her but the fact that he’s actually just admitting the way he’s felt for years is so 😭😭😭😭 if only you’d spit it out sooner, Bready

“he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” She literally has a crush on her fellow tribute and her first line of defense is to decide he out to get her for making her feel this way 🤣😭🙃

“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.” The more my crush grows, the more deadly he becomes. I know I’m reading this with shipper goggles but guess what? I’m unashamed. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ who feels guilty for reading this book with an Everlark bias not this girl right here 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.” Okay first off, she says cheek here but according to a chapter ago, she claimed the mark was on his jaw... so in other words, she’s incredibly short. If a medium height guy has a bruise on his jaw and she has to stand on her tip toe to reach it... well... hashtag LittleKatniss

And second off.... can you even imagine how Peeta must feel. He genuinely complimented her here, the girl he has had a crush on forever, and she responds by kissing his cheek. He was probably really happy at this moment. And also this probably played further into his buying into her false display in the arena. That here we have her clutching his hand, smiling and laughing with him and kissing his cheek. Idk what I was trying to say necessarily but I made myself sad wow way to go me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧

Anyways! Those are my very over the top and too detailed thoughts! Hope you enjoyed if you read this! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😎😎😎😎😎😎😎🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#thgagain #once again the Jen gifs are still headlining these posts 🥳🥳🥳#this isn’t as funny as my others so I’m sorry y’all #but I like nice commentary on these posts makes me feel less alone so feel free

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refinedbuffoonery · 4 years ago

Text

Flawless (7)

Con Artist AU. masterlist.

Content Warning: swearing, PTSD, violence, sex

Before we get started here, you all need to know that Flawless will be going on a mini-hiatus. This chapter is the end of my original outline, and I need to spend some time planning out the next plot arc before I write the next chapter.

(Also, shoutout to the lovely humans who translated the line in French. Y’all are the real MVPs.)

Anyway, this is it. The chapter you’ve all been waiting for. The heist. It feels so surreal to finally write it. As always, thank you for coming on this wild ride with me. ❤

*****

In the shadow of its brightly illuminated landmarks, Paris hummed to the tune of debauchery.

Paparazzi gathered around the Louvre’s glass pyramid, waiting to capture a clear picture of a celebrity guest entering the afterparty. Riley shielded her face with her clutch as she walked in, careful to remain unidentifiable in the barrage of photos. The gold buttons on her emerald jacket-dress caught the warm light emanating from the pyramid and the bright camera flashes. She was well dressed, but not enough to stand out. Tonight, Riley needed to blend in.

She ran a hand through her hair, making sure the loose curls covered her earpiece. For the sake of stealth, the team’s comms were skin color, but they were Nikki and Cage’s skin color, not Riley’s.

Riley was half-tempted to throw her comms into one of the fountains out of spite.

She was the last of the Five Eyes to arrive. They staggered their arrivals to avoid being associated with one another, as a precaution. Pulse thrumming in anticipation, Riley bounced on her toes slightly as she waited in line to check in. The Louvre security team meticulously checked each guest’s ID against the guest list; there would be no party crashers tonight.

It had been all too easy for Riley to add the Five Eyes’ cover identities to the guest list a week ago. Now, she handed the stone-faced security guard a drivers’ license bearing her face and the name “Danika Jackson.” Returning her ID with a nod, the security guard stepped aside, allowing Riley to enter the party.

Everyone is responsible for their own entrance and exit. That was her new rule. She got everyone’s names added to the guest list, but her assistance ended there. If someone ran into trouble, it was on them to bail themselves out.

Riley had learned that rule from her mentor when she first dipped her toes into the world of two-faced schemes and nimble-fingered cons, but she never truly understood it—or saw the need to enforce it—until she felt the bite of handcuffs digging into her wrists.

It was a mistake she’d never make again.

Riley strolled through the hallway bearing massive Italian paintings, slowly making her way to the room containing the most overrated painting of all time—and the rendezvous point.

The Mona Lisa room was empty aside from a blonde woman in a beaded, blood-red cocktail dress standing much too close to the glass-encased painting. Riley stood to the woman’s right and studied the painting as well. It was underwhelming.

“You’d think the most beautiful woman in art would be wearing a prettier dress,” Nikki remarked.

Riley snorted, crossing her arms. “Says the woman who just bought a four-thousand-dollar cheetah print pantsuit.”

Nikki feigned offence. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t pull it off. Anyway, quiz time. What year did da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa?”

“1503,” Riley answered easily. “And the woman’s name is Lisa del Giocondo.” Nikki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s that look for?”

“I didn’t think you actually listen when I talk about art.”

Riley offered her friend a small smile. “I’m always listening to you.” The sound of heels clicking down the hall made them pause. When the coast was clear, Riley murmured, “Is everyone in position?”

“Yeah. Desi and Sam should be inside already, and Jill checked in a few guests in front of me.”

“How did that go?”

“Easy peasy.” Nikki glanced at Riley and softened her tone. “Are we sure Jill is ready for this?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we? Don’t forget, it was your idea to recruit her.”

Nikki turned back to the Mona Lisa. “You know, you really do suck at pep talks.”

“Oh shut up.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you want control room duty?”

Nikki spared her a sideways glance. “I’ll do it. You did it last time.” Her second sentence hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the job gone horribly wrong. And a reminder of all the things they still hadn’t talked about.

Riley brushed it aside. They could talk after they were each forty million dollars richer.

Pulling a flash drive hidden inside an old lipstick tube out of her clutch, Riley instructed, “Plug this in, and it’ll do half the work for you.”

“Thanks.” Nikki put the tube in her own purse. “See you on the other side.”

“Don’t get caught.”

“Don’t get caught,” Nikki parroted, and Riley strode down the hall toward the party.

She followed the pulsing music and the stream of guests to a room in the far corner of the museum, passing the employee door Nikki would sneak into along the way. Crossing the threshold, she couldn’t conceal her gasp. Riley had seen plenty of opulent rooms over the years, but the Galerie d’Apollon was something else entirely. Gold moulding framed the dozens of paintings covering the walls and the arched ceiling. Display cases containing the French Crown Jewels formed a line down the middle of the rectangular room. Despite the party’s couture dress code, the bedazzled guests looked entirely underdressed compared to the grandeur of the gallery.

She only let herself be awestruck for a few seconds before getting to work, marking the exits and security cameras. Riley didn’t like how deep the gallery was in the museum—and how far she would have to walk to make a clean escape with the jewels.

She would be the one walking out with them. No one else. Riley had made that crystal clear during the team planning meeting a few days ago.

Draped in black fabric, the case containing the designer jewelry sat in the middle of the gallery. A security guard stood by it, no doubt to ward off nosey guests wanting a sneak peek.

A wave of nausea passed through her, reminding Riley that the closest thing to a substantial meal she’d eaten all day was the two pastries she ate a few hours ago. She slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, heading for the snack table. Jill was already there, gorging herself on bread and cheese. Eyes wide, the blonde froze as Riley sidled next to her, evidently thinking she was in trouble.

But Riley simply reached for a piece of bread and asked, “Which cheese is the best?”

Exhaling audibly, Jill pointed a manicured, light blue nail. “That one.” Riley tried it. Jill was right; it was delicious.

“You ready, Blondie?” Riley asked, lowering her voice. “There’s no job unless you get this right.”

Jill rolled her shoulders back, snarking, “No pressure or anything.” There was a bite to her words, one Riley noticed only came out when someone, namely her, pushed the blonde a little too far.

“Sorry,” Riley said, and she meant it. “You can do this. Don’t second-guess yourself. Commit.”

Jill merely nodded, swallowing another piece of cheese.

Riley wandered off, not wanting to stay with Jill too long. With her back to a wall, she scanned the room in search of Desi and Cage. When she didn’t see them on her first sweep, Riley furrowed her brow. Where the hell were they?

A bright laugh carried across the room—Cage. There you are, Riley thought. She spied her teammate enjoying the spotlight in the center of a group of models all cooing over Cage’s pale pink dress. It suited Cage, with its billowy sleeves and flowy skirt that hit just below her knees. Cage giggled again, putting her hand on a woman’s shoulder a little too boldly for the gesture to be casual.

Predictably, Desi wasn’t far away, staring daggers at her shameless flirt of a girlfriend.

Riley unmuted her comms. “Easy there, Des. It’s just an act.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she snapped. Even from a distance, Riley could see Desi’s tight grip on her champagne flute.

Riley cooed, “So jealous.”

The woman wrapped a proprietary arm around Cage, clearly welcome to the blonde’s advances, and Cage beamed at her.

It was enough to push Desi over the edge. “Don’t forget whose bed you’re sleeping in tonight, Samantha,” she snarled. “And I don’t remember agreeing to share.”

Cage excused herself from the group. “My love, did it ever occur to you that I’m making you jealous on purpose? Because we both know—”

Nikki cut her off, rescuing the team from whatever filthy thing was about to come out of Cage’s mouth. “Don’t be gross, you two.” Riley stifled a laugh. She and Nikki had been subjected to many things they didn’t want to hear over the years. This would hardly faze her now.

Focus. They needed to focus.

Riley finally spotted the sharp-eyed assistant she noticed at the runway show. Always two steps behind the designer, the young woman obediently trailed him as he floated from group to group. The assistant finished her drink, setting it on the tray of a passing waiter, and strode toward the main hallway in this wing of the museum.

“I think she’s going to the bathroom,” Jill said. “Do I follow her?”

Snagging a drink of her own, Riley answered, “No. Bump into her when she comes back.” She watched Jill make her way toward the far side of the gallery, ready to intercept the assistant and steal her keys.

Everything was going to plan. Jill just had to steal the keys, and then all they had to do was hurry up and wait for the big reveal. Eight o’clock, Riley was told upon arrival. The designer would commence his speech at eight, then reveal his masterpiece to the world.

Riley checked her watch. Thirty more minutes.

She knew she’d been standing in this spot for too long already, but Riley was loath to give up the relative safety of having a wall at her back. The twinge of fear she’d felt earlier at the runway show came raging to the surface, rooting her stiletto-clad feet in place. Leaving the wall meant having people in her blind spot. No one’s going to hurt me, Riley promised herself. This is a party, not a prison.

Her legs felt like lead weights, but Riley forced herself to re-enter the crowd, one agonizing stride at a time. She made it as far as the nearest display case before she had to stop, and her eyes landed on a tiara resting in the center of the display. Countless tiny diamonds formed flowery swoops and swirls, with a handful of emeralds scattered between them, filling what would otherwise be empty spaces. In the center, the diamonds framed a large, round emerald, mimicking the shape of a flower.

It was exactly what Riley would have stolen had the Five Eyes agreed to rob the Louvre itself, rather than this party. Maybe she’d come back for it, one day.

Using the case as a pseudo-wall, Riley took a deep breath and re-scanned the room in search of Jill. Unsurprisingly, Jill was exactly where Riley had last seen her.

She kept an eye on the recruit, knowing Desi and Cage were doing the same. Riley was impressed; Jill had quickly figured out how to linger without being obvious she was waiting for something. Jill mindlessly pushed up her glasses—the only visible sign of her nerves—and the movement drew Riley’s attention.

But not to Jill.

To another blond head, far behind her. One Riley desperately hoped to never see again.

“We have a problem,” Desi said.

“I saw.”

Nikki’s ex-boyfriend stalked into the gallery, a taller, older man at his heels like a shadow—the same men who chased Riley, Nikki, and Jill through the taco shop a few weeks ago.

Fuck.

Ducking her head to avoid being spotted, Riley hissed, “Nik, get your ass to the control room and lock the door behind you. We’ve got company.”

“Already here. Accessing system controls as we speak. Whoever designed the security system in this place should be fired, because this is ridiculously simple. I should’ve left it in French just to keep it interesting.” A pause. "Who's here? Wait. No. Let me guess. Interpol? The mob? That bitchy designer I once robbed point-blank?"

"Your ex."

"Oh."

"You didn't tell him about our dream job, did you?" The words came out a little too accusatory, but Riley didn't care. She needed to know.

"No! Of course I didn't. He— Look, I don't know why he's here, and we can figure that out later. Right now, you need to keep him busy. He's smart, Riles. Maybe even smarter than you. Be careful."

Riley scoffed. "Smarter than me? We'll see about that."

"I'm serious, Riley."

But Riley ignored her, instead giving instructions of her own. "Cage, you watch Jill. Des—"

"I've got the big one." Classic Desi, never letting her finish a sentence and yet always knowing what she was going to say. The habit was obnoxious at first, but over time Riley learned to appreciate it. "See the bulge on his left side? He keeps touching it." Desi said. "He's armed."

“He’s what?” Jill exclaimed.

Chuckling, Desi said, “Now look at my left side. We match.” A small, terrified squeak was the only response. “Well, what did you think I meant when I told you I’m the team’s exfil specialist?”

“Not that!”

“And Nik’s ex?” Riley asked, redirecting the conversation.

“Seems clean.”

“He is,” Nikki confirmed. “Mac hates guns.”

“You know,” Riley said, studying the larger of the two men, “The other one kind of looks like a guy who dated my mom once.”

“Really?” Desi asked. “Think he’s the same guy?”

Riley took a closer look. He was tall, with broad, muscled shoulders and a buzzed haircut, and considering how often he fidgeted with his tie, he didn’t get dressed up often. He smiled at a passing waitress. He had an open, friendly smile, which totally contrasted with the systematic way he scanned the room. “Nah.”

Jill squawked, “Wait! Are we really still going through with this? Didn’t it just get a whole lot harder?”

“You say harder, I say more fun,” Cage said. “Just stick to the plan. You’ll be fine.”

Jill, it seemed, wasn’t so easily reassured. “Am I the only one who sees this is a trap?”

“It’s only a trap when you don’t know about it. When you do, it’s a challenge,” Riley said.

“But what if the plan goes wrong? Then what?”

At the same time, all four women answered, “Improvise.”

Riley muted her comms as she approached Nikki’s ex; Jill didn’t need the added distraction. Help her, Riley pleaded with the universe. You owe me.

Pushing her concerns about Jill to the back of her mind, Riley studied her target. There was a champagne flute in the spy’s hand, but he didn’t drink it—not even a sip—and his methodical gaze swept the room, no doubt making note of each guest and who they interacted with.

He was cute, she had to admit. Definitely Nikki’s type.

Purposefully not watching where she was going, Riley collided with him, narrowly avoiding sloshing his drink onto her shoes. She pretended to stumble, and his free hand caught her waist, ensuring Riley stayed upright. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Pardon me.”

His hand left her side. Frowning, he asked, “Do I know you?”

Don’t lie. Evade. Her former mentor taught her that.

Riley smirked. “I bet you use that line on every beautiful woman you stumble into.”

“Only when I’m too blown away to say something original.” He winked.

Maybe this would be easier than Riley anticipated. “Care to wander the museum with me while you practice your next line?”

“Normally I would, but I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking to start anything new.”

So much for that plan.

His honesty, however, was surprising.

“Not even a little fun?” she goaded, but Nikki’s ex declined once more before excusing himself and vanishing into the crowd.

At least Desi had better luck keeping the other spy occupied. She had him cornered, her body carefully angled to prevent him from seeing the slight bulge from the gun hidden in her dress. The plunging neckline had two purposes—easy access to the gun holstered at her side while providing a distracting view of her chest and intricate tattoos. It was just enough to snag wandering eyes and keep them focused on the front of her body, rather than the side. To the spy’s credit, his eyes remained pointedly fixed on Desi’s face.

“Got the keys,” Jill announced. Perfect timing.

Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “Good work, Blondie.”

Now, all they had to do was wait.

*****

While the designer yammered some pretentious bullshit about fine jewelry as the centerpiece of fashion and art, Riley slowly pushed her way to the front of the crowd gathering for the reveal. A few feet away, Cage did the same. Across from them—closest to the still-covered jewelry display case—Desi and Jill took their places. None of them were particularly interested by the designer’s speech, but Nikki would be hanging on every word if she were here.

The designer rambled on, explaining how particular pieces among the French Crown Jewels influenced the designs of his own work. It was awfully arrogant, Riley thought, comparing his own work to such timeless pieces. The longer he spoke, the more Riley disliked him and didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt for robbing him.

Lingering on the edge of the crowd, Nikki’s ex and his partner seemed content to remain out of the way. For all Riley cared, they could stay there all night.

The gallery lights flickered once. A few guests glanced up nervously, but the majority remained transfixed on the designer.

Nikki’s voice crackled through the comms. “Everyone ready? Nod once if you are.” Riley nodded. One by one, so did everyone else. “Alrighty then. Lights out in five…”

Riley counted the number of paces between her and Cage—six.

“Four…”

Paces from Cage to the jewelry case—eight.

“Three…”

Paces from the case back to her original position—ten.

Two…

Closing her eyes, Riley waited.

“One.”

Several women shrieked when the lights went out.

Riley opened her eyes, and before they’d even adjusted to the dark, she strode toward Cage. Six steps. She collided with Cage, dropping her purse on the ground and taking Cage’s identical one, containing replicas of the necklace and earrings.

Cage shouted that someone stole her purse, causing a scene. She’d chatted and flirted with enough people throughout the night for her voice to be easily recognized, and a murmur broke out among the agitated crowd, creating just enough background noise to cover the sound of Riley’s heels clicking on the floor.

Eight steps to the back side of the jewelry display. Riley could just make out Jill and Desi unlocking the case with the assistant’s keys. She braced for an alarm to sound, but there was nothing. Atta girl, Nikki.

Riley opened the purse. Carefully, Desi replaced the real jewels with the fakes, depositing the real ones inside Cage’s purse.

Jill locked the case and replaced the cover, and Riley returned to her original position among the crowd. The designer and his assistant remained oblivious to what transpired behind them, even as Jill slipped the keys back into the assistant’s dress pocket.

“Lights on in three,” Nikki warned.

Emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh white light over the murmuring crowd. A man angrily questioned what happened, followed by a chorus of “Yeah, what he said!”s in a variety of languages. The assistant urged the crowd to remain calm, promising everything would be sorted out shortly.

Riley looked over her shoulder, searching for Nikki’s ex. He was nowhere to be found. She narrowed her eyes, but with two hundred million dollars worth of jewelry in her hand, Riley decided she didn’t particularly care.

The woman Cage flirted with the longest stepped forward, picking up the purse Riley had tossed near Cage’s feet. “Isn’t this your purse?” she asked Cage.

Riley’s teammate feigned embarrassment, gracefully reclaiming the purse. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.”

Just as an outraged Cage exclaimed the purse was empty, Riley melted into the dispersing crowd, slowly making her way toward the museum’s exit. That was the plan. She’d leave first, and once she escaped with the jewels, everyone else would exit as well.

Riley retraced her steps, heels clicking on the hardwood flooring of the museum’s endless long hallways. She didn’t look at any of the art as she passed, not even a single glance. Art had always been more Nikki’s thing than hers.

Weaving her way back to the exit, Riley prayed Nikki hadn’t missed any of the cameras. She was supposed to loop them all, allowing Riley to leave the museum unseen. But with each additional camera—some obvious, some not—Riley’s anxiety rose.

Nikki knows what she’s doing, Riley reminded herself. She won’t let anything happen to me.

Two years ago, that reassurance would’ve been enough.

Now, her distrusting brain shot back, Are you sure?

Riley didn’t dignify it with a response.

Passing the museum’s security checkpoint, Riley smiled at a bored-looking security guard. “Vous partez déjà?” he asked.

Riley hoped the security guard asked why she was leaving so soon. She never did get around to brushing up on her French. “Oui, I have a flight to catch.” Not a lie, although the flight wouldn’t take off until early tomorrow morning.

The crisp night breeze prickled Riley’s bare skin. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. For the first time that night, Riley finally felt her body start to relax. The vast, empty plaza felt so much safer than the packed gallery. Still not safe enough to let her guard down, but safer. Riley slipped her hand into the purse, fingers closing around an earring. It was surprisingly heavy in her palm.

Another flawless job. The Five Eyes were back in business.

She was halfway across the plaza when Nikki started cursing, but Riley didn’t slow. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. The job was done. No turning back now.

There was a distinct male voice in the background, but Riley couldn’t make out what he said.

“What do you mean, ‘I had a feeling you’d be here’?” Nikki demanded. “We haven’t spoken in months, Mac, and I know you didn’t track me here on your own.”

Her ex’s voice was nothing more than a low, indiscernible rumble.

“What?” Nikki whispered, her voice breaking mid-word.

As much as Riley wanted to know what he said, she kept walking. But that didn’t stop the others from hissing Nikki’s name, demanding to know what was going on.

Nikki yelped, and then the male voice purred, loud and clear, “I know you’re listening, Riley. Why don’t we go on that little walk now?”

With a cold laugh, Riley said, “In your fucking dreams.” How did he know her name? As far as she knew, Nikki never mentioned her.

Still, she kept walking. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. No matter what.

Riley muted her comms, and Nikki’s piercing shriek filled her ear. A muffled grunt followed.

Then nothing.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

“Riley, you need to come back,” Jill pleaded. “Nikki needs help.”

She didn’t answer, clenching her jaw with the effort to keep silent. An airplane flew overhead, and Riley tracked its path across the sky. Every step brought Riley closer to her own flight home—and the freedom that entailed. Turning around now would only put that in jeopardy.

But every step also took her away from her best friend. The woman she once believed she’d do anything for.

Jill was overreacting, Riley reasoned. Nikki was more than capable of getting herself out of a bind. Riley lost track of the number of impossible situations she and Nikki had found themselves in over the years, and they always found a way to escape.

“Sam is getting Jill out,” Desi said, slightly out of breath. “Riles, I don’t think I can get Nikki out on my own. Jill is right. You need to come back.”

Riley faltered. If Desi thought there was a problem, then something must’ve gone really, really wrong.

Maybe Jill wasn’t overreacting after all.

“Des—” Cage started. “They opened the case.”

“So?”

“They know the jewels are fake. If Riley comes back, it won’t just be Nikki going to prison.”

Prison.

Riley didn’t think she was breathing. Heart thudding wildly, her stomach tied itself into knots, and her clothes became damp with sweat. The sense of safety she’d felt earlier was gone, and Riley fought the urge to run. Every little noise—traffic, pedestrian chatter, a siren in the distance—was coming for her, ready to drag her into some dark hole she’d never emerge from.

Nothing was logical anymore, like the part of her brain capable of rational thought had gone to sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to wake up, but it was no use.

Run, while you still have the chance, her body screamed.

Everyone is responsible for their own exit, her brain repeated.

She needed to turn around. Nikki couldn’t go to prison.

Two years ago, Riley had gone to prison in Nikki’s stead. She let herself be arrested to protect her friends. Her family.

If Nikki went to prison now, then Riley’s sacrifice would be in vain.

But Riley’s body refused to turn around. Her worst memories from prison flashed before her eyes—ones Riley desperately wanted to forget—like a cougar crouching in the shadows, waiting for the exact moment she was at her weakest to pounce.

She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t go through that again.

She wouldn’t survive it twice.

“Riles,” Nikki pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where are you?”

Run, that voice in her head said. Don’t look back.

Her steps were slower now, less sure. But Riley didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

“I need you.”

Save yourself, girl.

“I’m sorry,” Riley whispered, but her comms were still muted. With a shaking hand, Riley unmuted them one last time.

It’s better this way, the voice promised. You’ll see.

It was all too easy to slip into the brutal, emotionless persona she’d built while in prison, the process having become instinct. It was necessary then, to keep her safe and alive. Now, it did the same, preventing Riley from making a mistake every cell in her body knew she wouldn’t come back from.

In a cold, unflinching voice, Riley said, “Everyone is responsible for their own exit.”

She threw her earpiece into a nearby fountain, and the click of her stilettos echoed in the night.

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @losingitovermacriley / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay / @holbytlanna /

#beth writes #flawless au #macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #riley davis #nikki carpenter #desiree nguyen #samantha cage #jill morgan #angus macgyver #jack dalton #<- look who's back

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tricksters-captain · 4 years ago

Text

Weasley Twins/Cedric Diggory Imagines - Accidental Meeting - Part 3

AN: Another day... another part!! Honestly I can’t write this story down quick enough so I thought I’d post another part for y’all!! Let me know if you’d like to be added to a tag list!!!

Overall Summary: (Y/n), is a young witch who always kept her head down due to her complicated past; one day she bumps quite literally into one of the most popular boys in Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory, and that’s when (Y/n)’s plan of keeping her head down seems to go up into the air. Things only seem to worsen when two redheaded twins start to take notice too...

This Chapter: As Halloween draws near, you receive news from your uncle about your parents and the ministry. You try burying yourself in your studies to keep your mind off things when Professor Lupin only seems to make it worse...

PART 1 // PART 2

Pairing(s): Cedric Diggory x Reader, (Eventual) George Weasley x Reader, (Platonic) Fred Weasley x Reader, (Platonic) Oliver Wood x Reader

Word Count: 2,398

Warnings: None, Angst

You sat at breakfast beside Wood and Angelina, the Weasley twins opposite.

“Looks like you’ve really caught his eye there, (y/n).” Fred piped up from across you.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows at the boy as you finished a spoonful of cereal.

“He’s looked this way about 7 times since sitting down.” George muttered,

“Not to mention the other 6 when he walked in.” Fred added.

You peaked over your shoulder to see Cedric sat with his usual group of Hufflepuffs.

“You two are obsessed.” You rolled your eyes at the boys as you forced yourself not to turn and look again.

“Mails here.” Wood announces as if the sudden eruption of wings and squawks didn’t alert everyone enough.

You were surprised to see your owl fly into the great hall with a letter in its mouth. The only person who you ever sent mail or received mail from was your uncle.

You reached up and grabbed the letter as he fell from the birds beak.

You could see from the handwriting on the outside of the envelope that it was definitely from your uncle.

It wasn’t completely strange to receive a letter from him during term time but it wasn’t a usual occurrence.

“Who’s it from?” Oliver asked,

“My uncle.” You admitted, contemplating whether to open it there or later in private.

“Prob’ly asking whether you’re gonna come home for Christmas break or stay here.” Oliver said as he bit into an apple.

“I already told him I’d be staying here as it’s your last Christmas at Hogwarts, I thought we’d stay here and celebrate together.” You stated, deciding to open the letter now.

“Get a broom closet you two.” Fred teased you. You retaliated by wrapping your arms around Oliver and resting your head on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes at the twins. Oliver just shook his head at you.

You retracted your arms from Oliver and picked your letter back up to read it.

(Y/n),

The Ministry finally agreed to speak to me. They’ve claimed that the security in Azkaban has been double, tripled and that no other prisoners will be escaping. They specified that since Lorelei and Mikael are high threat that they will be watched consistently but Sirius Black was high threat too and look where he is now.

I feel they aren’t telling me the full picture. It was hard enough getting them to discuss Lorelei and Mikael at all. They just like to pretend Death Eaters don’t even exist anymore. Lock them behind bars and forget about them.

I know we are all anxious about the idea of them escaping like Black did but I am keeping my ear to the wall. If anything is spoken about them or a possible escape then I should be the first to know. I won’t let them leave that godforsaken place without a fight. You should focus on your studies, try not to worry about your parents. Hogwarts is surrounded by dementors, I hear, so they will protect you for now.

- Demetrius

“What did he say?” Oliver asked as you closed the letter.

“Just something about the Ministry.” You sent him a look that said you would tell him later as you felt it was too crowded to discuss your parents right now.

“What do you have?” You changed the topic by asking Oliver what he was doing this morning as you picked up your book bag.

“Defence against the dark arts then divination.” He told you as he rose from the table.

“I have some study periods this morning so I think I’m going to go to the library. I’ll see you later.” You parted ways outside the great hall as you headed towards the library. You then tucked the letter into your bag and reminded yourself to show Oliver later.

You found an empty table tucked away in a corner beween two book shelves, before finding a few books to help you with your study of Ancient Runes homework.

“Do you mind if I join you?” A voice you were starting to know well tore you away from your parchment and you glanced up to see Cedric stood with his hand wrap around the strap of his backpack.

“Will I actually be able to study if you sit with me or are you going to distract me?” You narrowed your eyes at the boy with a light humour.

“I swear not to distract you.” He held his hands up in defence and you smiled, nodding your head to signal for him to sit.

“What are you studying?” Cedric asked as he sat.

“Distracting.” You announced, sending him a side glance. “Ancient Runes.” You caved and answered after the following few seconds of silence.

“Ah.” Cedric nodded, taking his own parchment and books out.

You both sat quietly, the only sounds being the turning of pages and the scratching of your quills but, after a short while, you found yourself sneaking secret glances towards the boy.

You watched his brow crease in concentration and his eyes flicker across the pages he was reading. A few locks of his soft brown hair fell forward and his lips parted slightly as he focused.

Cedric caught you looking at one point, raising his head and smiling widely at you.

“Distracting?” He asked,

“Just making sure you are actually working and not writing down some quidditch strategy like Oliver does.” You were quick to come up with an excuse but Cedric wasn’t stupid.

“What do you have next? I can walk you to your next class.” Cedric suggested.

“Charms.” You told him, “If you walk me, you’ll probably be late to your own class.”

“Why are you so worried about being seen with me?” Cedric leaned towards you, folding his arms on the chair in between you both with a curious look on his face.

“I’m not worried.” You objected, “I just said you’d be late for your own class.”

“(Y/n), I’m no Ravenclaw but I can figure out when someone keeps saying no. I also see you looking around at everyone whenever I come up to you.”

“Cedric.” You sighed, “Things are complicated in my life.”

“And me walking you to your next class will somehow make it more complicated?” Cedric rose an eyebrow at you which made you sighed once again.

“You can walk me to my next class.” You wanted to say that it would but you didn’t know how to explain why.

Cedric stood up from his seat and packed his things away, you did the same before you both left the library.

“I saw your owl this morning.” Cedric mentioned the letter from before and you felt your chest tighten a little.

“Yeah. It was from my uncle. Asking whether I’d be home for Christmas.” You lied pretty effortlessly as the said-letter was lying at the bottom of your bag.

“Your uncle?” Cedric hadn’t thought about who you lived with after your parents were sent to Azkaban.

��Yeah.” You nodded, “Demetrius. He took me in after my parents were, you know... He never saw what they saw in you know who. He didn’t have the same beliefs. Not like he didn’t suffer for it. They tortured him for a long time but he survived. He’s a good man, not very paternal but it's better than nothing.” You almost found it funny how unaffectionate and distant your uncle could be with you but you knew he still cared about you, he just couldn’t show it in the way normal families could.

“Is it just you two?” He asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

“Yeah. Demetrius isn’t very old. He was only 20 when he took me in. He never got a girlfriend after that so has never married or anything. I think he believes that if he had someone else to care about, they could be used against him. He saw a lot of what my parents did, you see. He worries about my parents; about them escaping like Black did.”

“Are you worried?” Cedric stopped as you reached your class.

“I’d be stupid if I wasn’t.” You confessed.

“We can talk more about it later if you like?” Cedric gestured to the classroom door and you bit down on your cheek and nodded.

“Hey!” You called as he started to walk away. “Thanks for walking me.”

Cedric smiled at you before you entered the classroom.

“Saw pretty boy Diggory walk you to Charms this morning.” Fred and George trapped you as they came up to you side by side.

“Like I said... Obsessed.” You looked up at the twins as they walked either side of you.

“You reckon Lupin’s got that surprise for us today?” Fred asked you and George.

“Hope so, Freddie.”

“I hope it’s a potion that stops people from spying on you.” You retorted, making both the boys crack up.

“Welcome class! If you’ll follow me, I have the special treat I promised for you all today.” Professor Lupin announced as you entered the classroom for DADA.

The class did as they was told and followed Lupin up to a larger room where an old wardrobe stood in towards the far side.

You couldn’t help but smile with excitement as you watched the wardrobe shake from something inside.

“Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what is inside?” Lupin asked as the wardrobe trembled again.

"Is it a boggart, sir?” One of the Ravenclaw girls, Samantha Penny, answered.

“Yes, Miss. Penny. Now, can anybody tell me what a boggart looks like?”

“No one knows. Boggarts are shape-shifters.” You answered as Lupin pointed his wand at you.

“Very good. Now, can someone tell me what they do?”

“They can take the shape of whatever a person fears the most.” Samantha answered again.

“Well done! Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart. Let's practice it now. Without wands, please.” Remus lowered his wand as he spoke, “After me. Riddikulus!”

“Riddikulus!” The class repeated.

“Very good. A little louder and very clear. Listen: Riddikulus!” Lupin corrected any who made a mistake.

“Riddikulus!” You all repeated once more before Lupin selected an unlucky volunteer.

“Samatha, since you know so much, why don’t you give it a try?” Lupin encouraged her forward. “Now, what are you most afraid of?”

“Snakes, sir.” She said rather nervously.

“Snakes. Okay. Easy enough to change. You see, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a boggart is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing.” Lupin paced a few steps as he spoke.

“Now, Miss Penny. I want you to think of something funny. The funniest thing you can think of and when you come face to face with the snake, I want you to imagine its turning into that funny thing, do you understand?” Lupin asked the Ravenclaw girl. She nodded and raised her wand.

As the doors burst open, a large thick black snake appeared slithering towards Samantha. It rose upwards and hissed as it’s dark eyes fixed on the quivering girl.

“R-Riddikulus!” She hesitated but soon cast the spell, turning the snake into a baby monkey in a dress.

“Brilliant, Miss Penny! On your first try too!” Lupin praised her as he laughed at the monkey falling over. “Alright! Who’s next! Form a line!”

The class rushed into a line with excitement and nerves filling the room.

You watched a few students ahead of you try and succeed in turning the boggart from their fear to something funny and soon it was your turn.

“I bet her worse fear is seeing Wood naked.” Fred whispered to you and his twin as he stood behind you.

“Actually, it’s having to spend the rest of the year with you two.” You mumbled back with a smirk as you stepped forward.

“Ouch, Seyler, ouch.” Fred clutched his chest above his heart and you rolled your eyes.

Suddenly, coming face to face with the boggart, your amusement was gone.

You shifted on your feet as you thought of all the possible things the boggart could turn into like a giant spider or a clown or....

Your eyes went wide as the boggart twitched and span around and transformed into a face you had only seen in your memories and pictures.

Your mother stood in front of you.

The whole class erupted with whispers and murmurs as you froze.

Her dark eyes met yours, the small mole above her lip rising as her wicked smile grew.

“Come on, (y/n), don’t let the shape distract you. Say the words and she’ll be gone.” Lupin saw the shock on your face as he tried to encourage you.

Your mother stepped forward, holding her hand out towards you, her dark mark visible on her arm as she reached towards you.

“Don’t touch me!” You shrieked as she came close to connecting with your skin.

You couldn’t stop yourself from fleeing the class as your emotions over took you.

You pushed past the Weasley twins as you darted to the door.

“Miss Seyler!” Lupins voice carried down the corridor you were running down.

Tears blurred your vision as your chest tightened and breathing became much harder.

“Miss Seyler!” You heard Lupin call after you again.

You threw yourself against an arched doorway, trying to slow your breathing as your mothers eyes flashed through your head. Her evil smile, the dark mark clear on her arm.

You felt yourself slide down the doorway until you hit the cold floor.

“Miss Seyler.” Lupin had found you. “Miss Seyler, breathe.” He knelt down as you failed to control your panic attack.

“(Y/n). It was just a boggart. It wasn’t really your mother.” Lupin told hold of your shoulders as he tried to get you to look at him. “Your mother is locked up on Azkaban. She can’t hurt you.”

“I’m sorry.” You finally looked up at him and he felt his heart squeeze at the sight of your red eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s quite alright.” Lupin helped you stand, slowly bringing you back to your feet.

“What about the class?” You asked, looking up from where you had come from.

“Class is dismissed. Come on, let’s go for a chat.” Lupin guided you to his office, his arm comfortingly wrapped around you still.

(PART 4)

#cedric diggory x reader #Cedric Diggory imagines #cedric diggory #the Weasley twins #weasley twins #Fred Weasley #fred weasley imagine #George weasley imagines #george weasley #george weasley x reader #Harry Potter imagines #Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban

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sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

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Petty Golfers

Warnings: Swearing, but what can you expect with a Ransom fic? Some cheesy, real bitchy moves. Bad depictions of golfing. Some suggestive material, but not rlly? Dad Ransom! There’s so much affection that I might have diabetes from all the fluff.

If you can’t tell, I suck at writing summaries and warnings. Please just take a leap of faith and read. It took me a week to write this and we are at a whopping 7k word count. So please leave some feedback, ik I sound desperate. Love y’all!

Summary: A trip to the country club with Ransom and his aristocratic friends goes south.

“Ransom! Your mother is on the phone!”

You were curled up on the sofa when Ransom’s phone rang, a picture of Mrs. Drysdale herself showing up. She rarely ever called, except to bitch at you or her son. Out of curiosity, you had answered the call, unknowingly becoming an victim to her demands.

“Get Ransom for me.”

“He’s on his way down.”

“Tell him to make it quick.”

Who the hell did she think she was? You rolled your eyes, annoyed at her demand. The phone that was once pressed against your ear, was now pulled away from your face.

“Ransom! Your mother is on the phone!”

A quick huff from your mouth made you regain composure, continuing your ‘conversation’ with the woman.

“Why did you answer my son’s phone, anyway.”

Linda’s tone was cold, just as when you had first met her. In the five years you had been with Ransom, not once had she shown you any form of kindness.

Sick of her impertinence, you shoved back a snarky remark.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this, darling, but I’m dating your son! Actually I’m even engaged to him!”

Her end of the line was silent except for a loud scoff.

It was about time that Linda learned you weren’t some obedient dog, cowering down to her like Richard or Walt would.

“That’s my girl!”

Ransom, thank the heavens.

Turning your gaze to the stairs, you saw Ransom wearing a smirk, sauntering his way over.

The man bent down to kiss your lips before swiping his phone. You could practically imagine Linda’s screeching fit to her son and husband about what just happened. Clearly, it was actually happening as you heard Ransom nonchalantly reply, “That's not my problem.”

You took this time to get cleaned up and ready, seeing Ransom was currently occupied and would be for at least the next hour.

This was the first time you were gonna go golfing with Ransom and his friends. It was pretty obvious they were all gonna show up in Castore golf clothing, while you opted to wear a coral Columbia polo shirt and navy skort, caring less about the name of the brand and more about its versatility.

After applying some minimal makeup, you walked out from the bathroom to take a peek in the bedroom mirror.

The coral polo was neatly tucked into the navy skort, stopping mid-thigh. Taking your hands, you slowly smoothed out the shirt, stopping on your small baby bump. About 22 weeks in, and you were already in love with this child.

“Hi, little lemondrop. Oh goodness, are we gonna have a long day, honey.”

As you talked to your baby, Ransom quietly snuck into the room, smiling at how great of a mother you are already turning out to be. In his mind, he figured at least the child would have one good parent figure.

“Hey Sweetheart, sorry to interrupt, but I found you some golf shoes that should be comfortable.”

You looked up into the mirror to see Ransom behind you, with a big grin on his face and a pair of white golf shoes in his hand.

“Thanks, Ran.”

A bashful smile spread on your lips as you took the shoes. A part of you felt guilty for him getting you these shoes, but you knew he didn’t mind. Unfortunately, your feet and calves had already started swelling due to the pregnancy induced edema.

A quick trip to the bed, and you sat on the edge, struggling to get your shoes on, while Ransom was in the closet getting changed into his own golf attire.

Ransom confidently stepped out in all his glory, a navy polo and some light khaki shorts, that clung to his muscular physique. Your eyes were glued to him in awe and like the cocky asshole he is, a smirk grew on his face.

“Like what you see, Babe?”

“Oh shut up, Drysdale.”

You threw your shoe at him which he so expertfully caught. He gave a teasing smile and raised his hands in surrender before making his way to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Getting down on one knee, Ransom gently picked up your foot and put it in the shoe, tying the laces, but not too tight.

“Hmm, this feels vaguely familiar.”

Yup, Mr. Silver-Spoon Fed, was down on the ground, putting on your shoes. In his own words he’d only do the “Helps” part for you.

Once Ransom was done tying your shoe, he motioned to himself on his knee, trying to provoke the memory of when he proposed months ago.

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on his shoulder, and pecked his lips.

“I do.”

With a wink, you got up and left the room, also leaving Ransom on the floor, as he just chuckled to himself.

In all honesty you were dreading the day’s agenda. Ransom was taking you to the country club for a few holes of golf with his friends and their newest set of girlfriends.

Even though you had met Ransom’s friends and all, you could tell they had never liked you from the beginning. Eventually, with some work, Bently and Dylan warmed up to you. Without doubt, you understood why they were Ransom’s friends. They were exactly like him in every way, lifestyle and all.

In the years you had known the two men, Mallory and Samantha were the longest to stick around so far. Five months to be exact. This was an outstretched time of fidelity for the life-long playboys.

Maybe the men were trying to somewhat settle down like Ransom had.

The two women were standoffish from the start, always talking about things you never really cared about. Their lame attempt at trying to make you feel like an outsider was just straight-up annoying. When they did include you, it was a constant conversation about Ransom. You loved him and all, but if you were gonna be friends with these chicks, they might as well like you for you and not your fiance.

Out of all the ‘lady friends’ the guys had brought, Mallory and Samantha were total bitches in comparison to the rest. And no, you weren’t jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about these women. Life had given you a fair share of bullies back in your day.

This whole ordeal could be marked as the most uncomfortable thing you’ve done in your life.

Mallory and Samantha were anything but friendly, going on and on about a Versace fashion show, and some model, from last month. Inwardly you reminded yourself that you were doing this for Ransom, who was having the time of his life with Bentley and Dylan. How they could have this much fun golfing, was beyond you.

The three guys golfed while you three ladies stood watching and chatting. In a more accurate account, the three guys golfed while the two ladies stood watching and chatting about purposeless things in life, deliberately leaving you out.

Well, come to find out all along you really weren’t gonna play golf, you were just gonna watch. Yay, so exciting.

You would’ve played golf with the guys had Mallory and Samantha not opened their opinionated mouths and made the decision for you.

At this point Mallory and Samantha were now blabbering about some new type of leather purse and you really wished Ransom’s club would have hit your head at that moment. Anything to relieve you from having to hear their pathetic whining. The two women didn’t care to include you. Surprise, Surprise. Apparently, you weren’t good enough to be in their aristocratic circle.

What the hell was this, high school?

“So how are you doing, (y/n)?”

It was odd how Samantha was actually trying to engage in a conversation with you. You just hoped that maybe this was her olive branch. These were Ransom’s friends' significant others and you were gonna try your damndest to impress them, not really wanting to stir up any drama if it weren’t necessary.

“I’m doing pretty well, thanks for asking. How about you two?”

Now both women were fully turned to you, their attention no longer on the men, more so Ransom.

“Dylan and I are gonna take a trip to Europe, not exactly what I wanted, but good enough I guess.” Samantha rolled her eyes and heartily laughed along with Mallory.

Her simple statement made your eyes almost bug out of your head. It was like an expensive trip to Europe to her was just nothing more than a drive across the state line. You swallowed harshly in an attempt to figuratively stomach Samantha’s words. Ransom regularly offered those luxurious things to you, but as always, you turned them down, claiming he was just enough. It was very true, though. You didn’t have high standards which took Ransom some time to get used to. Most women he was ever with, wanted things, extortionate commodities.

You didn’t want to ruin your only chance at a somewhat blossoming friendship, so you trepidatiously giggled along with them.

“Oh honey, did you gain weight? I know a great personal trainer, really cute too, maybe not as cute as Ransom though.” Mallory’s perfectly manicured hand motioned towards your growing stomach.

You just stared in utter shock at what she just said. To most people that would be offensive but then you remembered the crowd you were with. Judgemental.

“Umm, no-well, uh, I’m expecting.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, now noticing the difference between your choice of shoes and theirs.

Samantha was wearing those white oasis Hermes sandals she had mentioned earlier, while Mallory was sporting some gaudy rockstud Valentino stilettos. Yeah, they definitely did not come here to golf.

“That’s why Ransom kept someone like you around!”

And that was definitely not the answer you were anticipating. If anything, you figured they’d be gushing over your pregnancy like any normal person would.

“Oh Sam!” You saw Mallory nudge Samantha who looked at her in shock, immediately stopping her obnoxious laughter.

A breath of relief left your mouth as you looked to smile at Mallory in gratitude.

“I should’ve known it would take a fake pregnancy to get him!”

“Yeah, he can’t have a bastard child running around, now can he? He would never get laid again!”

Your smile collapsed.

Samantha and Mallory grabbed each other’s hand, careful of their bubble-bath groomed nails, yet laughing so hard that they had to support each other.

The three men looked over in the direction of the women’s giggles and smiled, returning back to their game, completely unaware of the real situation.

Of course they didn’t see you, because your back was to them. If they had, your impression of a deer in headlights would have most certainly piqued their attention.

Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t even comprehend what you just heard.

Holy hell, they were just egging it on, weren’t they?

It was then that you realized Mallory wasn’t trying to stand up for you just a minute ago.

So apparently the two women weren’t trying to become your friends at all. You were just their little toy to ridicule.

“Aww hon, don’t get upset! We are just joking around.”

Samantha gripped your shoulder tightly and you gave a tight lipped smile, in an attempt to show that you weren’t hurt by their idiotic antics.

As Mallory and Samantha turned to continue to stare at the men, you saw them roll their eyes, for the nth time.

“Joking, my ass.”

You just stared daggers into their backs, slightly wishing the daggers were real. How dare they insult you by saying you were “faking” it? They could joke with you, but definitely not your baby.

The motherly instincts were already kicking in apparently.

“Hey girls, wanna try?”

Dylan waved his driver club in the air trying to get your attention. You were in such a trance, anything anyone said was just tuned out, that was till two arms wrapped around your waist.

The simple action made you jump out of your own skin, ready to strike whoever was behind you.

“Jumpy, much babe?”

When you turned to be met with Ransom’s grin, a wave of relief swept over your anxious body.

“Huh, yeah. Sorry I kinda zoned out.”

“I definitelyyyy couldn’t tell.”

Crossing your fingers, you had hoped that Ransom wouldn’t question your edgy tone that came out with the sentence.

Luckily, he didn’t notice and instead unwillingly dragged you over the teeing ground where the rest of the group was standing nearby.

“So, who wants to go first?”

Bentley spun on his heel to face the caddy and pulled out a gap wedge, handing it to Samantha who giddily volunteered herself first.

“I’m not really sure what position, I should be in.”

Samantha held the club, elbows bent, and performed a lazy test swing, striking the grass.

“Ransom, could you help me? After all, you are the one winning.”

Her flirtatious wink made you wanna vomit. You practically held back the gag, not wanting to cause another scene. Ransom’s water bottle was in the cart. Deciding you couldn’t watch anymore you walked to go get the water that seemed life saving at the moment.

“Ok, so first off you are gonna want to spread your legs a little.”

Samantha moved her hips suggestively as she got into the proper stance.

“Is this the correct position?

Ransom nodded, not catching her drift at all. The way she said “position” was absolutely flagrant.

As you turned from the cart and back to the group, you saw Samantha pushing her hips into Ransom, her Prada dress, lacy, white, and most of all short, slid up just a hunch.

“Oh, good god I’m gonna be sick.”

Briskly, you semi-jogged towards the country club, not wanting to catch anyone’s attention.

No one had noticed your disappearance as expected and just continued on with the game.

Of course, you came back just in time for Mallory’s turn, who was also getting coached by your fiance.

“Don’t get mad, don’t get mad.”

The navy skort you were wearing, had to take the hit as you clenched your fists tightly, balling up the smooth fabric.

Mallory swung the golf club clumsily, her arms way out of whack. You just grimaced, these women were supposed to know how to golf for goodness sake. After all, golfing was a sport for the rich, at least in Mallory’s own words.

“Oh Ransom. I think I might need your help. How do I swing again?”

Ransom politely nodded and strode away from his previous conversation. He situated himself behind Mallory, her back resting against his chest, his arms encasing around her sides. The golf club was positioned in between Mallory’s long legs and the two of them slightly bent at the hips, Ransom’s hands over hers as they slowly swung the golf club a few times.

It finally came time for Mallory to actually swing. She insisted that Ransom help her, and of course he did. As they swung their arms over their shoulders, Mallory twisted her head and kissed Ransom’s cheek. The ball teed off and Mallory thanked Ransom once more.

“Thanks for all your help, Ranny.”

Mallory then leaned in to hug Ransom tightly, smirking when she saw your belligerent attitude.

You swore to yourself that you were living a movie because my god, was this so fake. No one in their right mind would ever have the guts to accomplish anything that had happened so far today. Quite the lucky streak you have, if I might say so myself.

“You wanna go, Momma?” A teasing offer came from Bentley, one you wouldn’t pass up.

Confidently, you smirked and walked over to grab a pitching wedge from Ransom’s golf caddy.

You were really ready to knock these women off of their damn high horses, it was time they joined you all in the corral.

“Gladly.”

The straight up sarcasm that dripped from your sneer thoroughly confused Ransom.

Straightening his posture, he quickly walked over to help you tee off too.

Normally, you wouldn’t have minded Ransom’s help, but at this moment you were fuming, striking the ball on the tee with great vehemence.

Shamelessly flirting with Ransom, even when they knew you were right there. The deliberate actions of your so called friends really was the last straw. You could normally handle the level of pettiness Ransom’s friends propounded, but you couldn’t take it anymore. It all flowed through your blood and into your swing.

Ransom’s eyes widened when he saw how you hit with a perfect form, swing straight and all. Your ball even landed on the green, closer to the end, unlike the two women who landed on the rough, even with his help.

“Well looks like Ransom got a good start, now.” Dylan shook his head in disbelief as Ransom winked at you, a token of his appreciation. Unfortunately, you were only seeing red and completely missed his action of affection.

“That’s impossible!” Samantha had a look of repugnance on her face. Visibly upset that she wasn’t beating you in this game of cat and mouse, insult edition.

Mallory then discreetly flipped you off, the guys too busy packing up in order to move further down the course.

“I’m over this shit.” You walked away from the teeing ground and towards the swarm of people.

“You ready to move on ladies?” Bentley pointed towards the golf carts that were pretty much all packed up, except for the club in your hand.

“Sure!” Mallory’s overly peppy and fake voice was the last straw.

The two women started to walk away with the men, swaying their hips, every step taken with aplomb.

“No, you know what, Sam, Mal, who gives two shits about a Versace runway model standing three inches off center, because I sure as hell don’t.”

Bentley, Dylan and Ransom stood gaping with confusion at your sudden outburst. From their point of view, nothing extreme had gone down between you and the girls all day long.

You turned from the outraged women, disregarding their insults thrown your way and meeting the faces of the befuddled men.

“Sorry boys.”

“Oh and one more thing, girls. If you say one more shitty thing, so help me, I am gonna take Samantha’s Hermes heels and shove them so far up both your asses, you’ll be able to cough them up.”

You ever so gracefully returned Mallory’s kind gesture and flipped her and Samantha off.

In typical Ransom fashion, you turned away once more, basking in their shocked looks and ignoring their pitiful attempts at being the victims.

With that you handed Ransom the golf club which he gripped angrily, as you stormed off towards the women’s locker room. You could feel him practically burning holes into your back.

It was almost impossible to put in the combination to the lock for your eyes were welling up with tears. What made the whole thing worse was that Ransom didn’t even say a word, and he was angry at you?!

With a swipe of your hand, you wiped away the tears before grabbing your purse. You looked at Coach logo laughing when you thought of the Celine and Louis Vuitton purses Samantha and Mallory had.

When you had gotten to the country club, Ransom handed you the keys to the Beamer to put in your purse. His car was the only other thing he loved more than himself, you, and the baby. In reality, it was his first child.

Seeing the Beamer in the parking lot was like light at the end of the tunnel for you. Into the driver seat you plopped and the keys turned to the ignition. At the moment you could care less where you ended up, you just wanted to run for the hills and get far from here.

Sure, you were embarrassed, but you were more angry than anything else.

As you drove past the golf course you didn’t miss Ransom’s appalled look when he saw the Beamer leaving without him in it.

Back at the course, everyone stood around giving each other confused looks.

Dylan bravely broke the silence first.

“What just happened, man?”

Ransom just huffed and shook his head.

“No clue. Hormones probably.”

Samantha full on giggled while Mallory took the next step and grabbed Ransom’s bicep as she laughed.

“Thanks for making me laugh Ran, I really needed it after what just happened.”

Mallory looked up into Ransom’s deep blue eyes with her sparkling green ones and batted her long eyelashes at him seductively.

The clueless men took no mind in what was unfolding in front of them.

“Oh that’s right. Congrats dude!” Bentley supportively patted Ransom’s shoulder, before returning back to his own caddy at the cart.

Another shaky breath left Ransom’s mouth.

“Yeah, thanks.”

As Ransom headed back to the golf cart, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling inside.

What was it, you ask?

Concern.

He was concerned about (y/n).

A cloud of vexation and offense floated around in the car with you, that when you arrived at Harlan’s estate you had not even registered it quite yet.

The keys of the beamer were clenched tightly in your hand as you knocked, waiting patiently for Marta or Harlan himself to answer.

As the door swung open, it revealed a surprised and smiling Marta.

“Oh hi (y/n)!”

It was then that the weight of the prior events came crashing down on you and sobs were the only thing you could manage.

Marta quickly ushered you inside and enveloped you in a hug.

For the few minutes that passed, you had finally calmed down. Taking a deep breath you explained everything to Marta while she led you to the guest room you and Ransom normally stayed in.

“I’m so sorry for your terrible day, love. Why don’t you get cleaned up and you, Harlan and I can have some dinner?”

At the offer, you returned a small smile, but a genuine one nonetheless.

A hot shower would hopefully help clear your mind a bit. You padded over to the bathroom, starting the water and then returning to rummage through the wooden dresser. Thankfully, Ransom had left his maroon sweater and your leggings. Your first win of the day after a colossal shitstorm, maybe things were starting to look up.

The last thing on your mind at the moment was Ransom, who was supposed to be here with you. Just the mere thought of him, irked you.

When you returned from the long and much needed shower, you checked your phone.

Ten missed calls from Ransom Drysdale

Five text messages from Ransom Drysdale.

You just scoffed, turning off your phone. He definitely didn’t deserve an answer from you and you most certainly didn’t want to hear his lame-ass excuse. Was he even calling to apologize or was he calling to pester you?

Whatever.

The cell phone just rested on the bed, while you scurried downstairs to the smell of lasagna, tending to yourself with Ransom in the very back of your mind.

It had been about an hour since you left and Ransom couldn’t get in touch with you. Bentley and Dyaln had just left the table to get some more drinks at the bar, something Ransom clearly needed.

He called your phone once more, but to no avail, it went straight to voicemail.

Your sweet voice rang through his phone, oh how he wished you were here.

“This is (Y/n) Drysdale, I’m not here at the moment, please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a great day!”

Ransom felt a sense of pride that emerged when you used his last name as your own. Never in a thousand years had he assumed he’d ever be married, until you came along. You charmed him with your humbleness and patience for his antics. So many things about you were good for that man. Long gone were the days of shunning off a committed relationship with his pinky ring that now rested upon your index. A small diamond engagement ring, another symbol of Ransom’s love, made home on your ring finger too. You, a beautiful vision in white, walking down the aisle, and he can already imagine it.

An annoyingly squeaky voice broke him from his enchanting daydream of you as his wife.

“Oh Ranny, just give up.”

Long fingers wrapped around the glass flute, bringing it up to the red lips of the vanilla-blonde woman.

“Excuse me?”

Mallory moved her drink away from her lips, resting her hand on Ransom’s right forearm that laid on the table.

“Well it’s no use to get in touch with Betty and the bastard. She isn’t gonna answer, clearly, but I will.”

Now he could see why you were upset.

They must’ve said something to you. What was really surprising though is that you’d never take shit from anyone. Why would you cower down now?

He mentally scolded himself, that was a question to ask you later. First order of business was to give these two lovely ladies a taste of their own bitter medicine. Revenge was practically the man’s middle name, unfortunately.

Ransom couldn’t lose the only thing in life that mattered to him. You brought him light in the darkest of his days. Family get-togethers always put him in a terrible mood, but when you were linked into his arm with a bright smile, things seemed a little bit more bearable.

Who cared about the consequences at this point, Ransom madly grabbed the bellini and spilled it across Mallory’s black Dior button-down dress.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife and child like that.”

The two women cried in disgust, popping up from their seats, prompting Samantha to drag Mallory to the ladies’ room.

Bentley and Dylan came back to the table, cackling, three Malibu sunset cocktails in hand.

Ransom was practically seething at this point, his jaw clenched as tightly gripping the glass Dylan was handing him.

“Woah man, what’s up with you?”

“Your petty ass girlfriends, that’s what.”

Many drinks later, Ransom had finally finished his story, Bentley and Dylan not believing anything the brunette spoke about.

“You’re bullshitting us, Drysdale. Maybe we should take your drinking privileges.”

Ransom’s signature smirk curled onto his face as he found his evidence.

“Look over a few tables, fellas.”

There was Samantha, her tongue down some guy's throat, Mallory wearing the other man’s large polo.

“Shit, man!”

Dylan dropped his glass onto the table in complete shock. He had really just assumed that Ransom was drunkenly hallucinating.

“I’m not here to listen to both of your problems, now help me go win my wife back.”

Bentley and Dylan weren’t even phased by Ransom’s forwardness, for they were both too caught up in their own drunken sorrow.

“Why? Can’t you see I have plans tonight with some rum?” Bentley motioned to the bar before chugging his own drink down.

“She-” Ransom hung his head in shame. “She-took-my-beamer.” In one quick breath the man made his embarrassing confession.

“Fine, it’s only because I like your wife. She’s good for you ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get your drunk asses out of here.” All three men doubled over in cachinnation due to Ransom’s quip.

Like expected, Bentley and Dylan continued to tease Ransom before going off to get some water in hopes of sobering up, coming back with two women instead.

A small snicker left Ransom’s mouth. He could remember the days when that was him, but now was much happier and satisfied to always come home with you.

You were ecstatic to be greeted with Harlan’s large and welcoming smile. The man was basically your grandfather.

“Well there’s my favorite granddaughter and soon to be great-grandchild!”

“Hiya Harlan!”

Your crappy day suddenly brightened at the appearance of your favorite Thrombey.

“Something’s wrong isn’t it?”

Harlan rested his hands in yours offering a reassuring smile. You chose not to deny the correct accusation from the man, instead going to sit down with him and Marta, once again explaining the story.

“I just wish Ransom wasn’t mad at me.”

A dejected sigh fell from your lips as you looked down at your growing stomach.

“My dear, if you tell him what you just told me, I am positive he would understand.”

“But I feel terrible for not being able to handle those girls. I mean he was having such a great time with his friends-.”

Harlan abruptly stopped you from spiraling into a depressive cloud.

“No buts, (y/n). Ransom’s friends are a crazy crowd of people, well, then again you have dealt with the rest of our family. Besides, Ransom’s friends deserved to be shown a bit of what you are made of. They need to understand that it’s not about the money or title, but the character within the person.”

You chuckled at Harlan’s exquisite speech.

“Wow, so this is why you are a best selling author?”

“I guess so, just remember (y/n), stay humble and who you are. Don’t change for Ransom or his friends because in the end that boy really needed a girl like you.”

A beautiful smile graced your lips at his encouraging words. Harlan always gave advice with much equanimity.

You finished the sapid and delectable lasagna with Harlan and Marta, often stopping to talk about the baby, who was to make an entrance in a few months.

After dinner was finished, you helped Fran clean up the dishes which she greatly appreciated. It was surprising to anyone that someone with your kind and caring personality would end up with a bonehead like Ransom. If only they all knew, Ransom was rarely ever an ass to you, occasions like these didn’t occur frequently.

By time you were done cleaning, Harlan had retired for the night, but not before playing a round of Go with Marta, who happily obliged and Fran gave you some clean sheets and then headed home herself. You were all alone now, only hoping when you’d see Ransom again. The two of you were both stubborn knuckleheads, who never wanted to surrender to the other.

Step after step, the wooden staircase creaked loudly as you slowly climbed to the second floor. Hand on the knob, you leaned against the bedroom door, tiredly pushing it open. A glance at your cell phone told you it was only a little after nine o’clock. It was an emotionally tolling day and you only wanted to curl up with your fiance, oh who are you kidding, your husband. Unfortunately, the closest thing you had to him at the moment was his maroon sweater, casing your body. All of this made the silk bed sheets even more comfortable, entrapping your exhausted body and lulling you to sleep.

Shooting up from your slumber, you made sure your phone was not on silent, just in case Ransom called again. Content, a void of darkness littered your sight, and you were out like a light.

RING!

The loud ringing emitting from your phone startled you, making your head shoot up from the pillows.

Bentley Livingstone

The bright light from the screen awoke you fully. Squinting to look at the time, you scoffed.

10:14 pm

“What the hell, Bentley.” Your voice raspy from sleep, it was evident that he had woken you.

“Sorry Momma Bear, but can you let us in?”

“Us? And if you are at the house, I’m not there, Benny boy.”

The last thing you wanted now was to be talking to him, you practically ripped apart his girlfriend, who he was actually committed too for once. You felt awful for ruining Ransom’s day with his friends, but quickly reminded yourself that those women were even worse to you. The men probably thought you were a total bitch, after their girlfriends had played the victims.

“Cut out the sarcasm, will ya? I’m not mad at you, and actually I’m here at Harlan’s.”

You felt so relieved that you could almost cry, damn hormones.

Bentley must’ve known something had happened which meant Dylan knew and hopefully Ransom too.

“Fine.”

You went to the bathroom to hurriedly tame your messy hair and brush your teeth, ridding the final taste of lasagna away.

Harlan was asleep and Marta had left by this time, so as you opened the front door, you made sure to make it as quiet as possible.

“Hi (y/n).” Bentley was the first to walk in, giving you a hug which shocked you before reciprocating the action. Dylan did the same and you were bemused at the men’s kindness.

“So… what’s up.” Nervously, you crossed your arms over your chest, resting them on your small, yet protruding bump, all while awaiting an answer.

“We’d like to apologize on behalf of Samantha and Mallory.” Dylan stepped forward, placing his hand comfortingly on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry guys. I didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

“Hey don’t be sorry! I’m glad I found out Sam was in it for your hottie.”

“Yeah. I’ve dated plenty of women but not anyone that cold.”

“Thanks, guys.” You looked up to be greeted with their bright smiles. It was nice to be so trusted.

“Dude, those babes said they were free tonight.” Dylan held out his phone to text said woman, Bentley doing the same.

Without second thought, you quickly put your hand between the two men, still having a very animated conversation.

“As much as I’d love to hear you guys babble over some girls, do either of you know where Ransom is?”

“He’s right here.”

A very familiar voice sounded from behind you.

There he was. Your hormones were through the roof and you couldn’t stop the happy tears that fell.

You ran to your fiance, throwing your arms around his neck, while his one free hand wrapped around your waist. Ransom placed a sweet kiss on your neck, laying his head there for a while, relishing in your love. How could he be so deserving of someone with such patience?

Too caught up in the moment, you didn’t even notice Dylan and Bentley sneaking out the front door.

Ransom held out a bountiful bouquet of exquisite light pink roses. With his free hand, he took both of yours, placing a few kisses to your knuckles.

Turning your hands over, Ransom kissed your wrists and then handed you the bouquet. You couldn’t help but giggle at all his affection.

“Pink roses, for you and our baby girl. I owe you both an apology.” Like a scolded puppy, he held his head in shame.

“I owe you an apology too-”

Your fiance’s index finger came up to shush you.

“No you don’t, I do.”

Ransom took your left hand, your ringed fingers intertwined with his now bare ones and led you up to the bedroom.

You went to go flump on the bed, observing as Ransom shut the door, and wordlessly sat next to you.

“I’m sorry that I, of all people, upset you. I should have been there for you, but I wasn’t.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, full of remorse. Truth be told, you had never seen Ransom like this. Taking your left hand, you lifted his chin gently, the cold metal of the rings somewhat startling, making Ransom turn his solemn face to look at you.

“How did you know?” Gazing into his gorgeous and endless eyes, you saw his sorrow, a large pang to your heart.

“Well, both girls tried to make a move on me. Mallory called our little lemondrop,” Ransom took a deep breath, saying the next word like it was gonna summon the devil himself, “a bastard.”

You were so desensitized at this point, you just accepted the vile words. There was no use in letting their locutions affect you, because if they did, you’d be letting them win.

“Yeah, they both kinda said that to my face too.” In hopes of lifting the mood, you let out a dry chuckle to let Ransom know that you were somewhat okay. Especially, that he was here, next to you.

“You girls were laughing and everything, I truly thought you were having a good time. I am so sorry, Sweetheart.”

Ransom was so upset, he buried his face into your chest, while you slowly and soothingly rubbed his back. Instead of telling him about your other banters with the women, you just kept your mouth shut. The poor thing was already so unsettled, you didn’t want to make matters worse for him.

It seemed like an eternity that Ransom was in your loving hold. His sobs were quieted and he examined your look of content. First, he softly pecked the corner of your lips then placed his warm hands on the small bump of your baby.

“Hi little miss, I owe you an apology too. Today I was not a great father at all. You and your mom will always mean the world to me. I can’t wait to meet you, honey.”

Ransom ended his heartfelt confession with a slow kiss to the unborn baby, that even you could feel through the sweater, making your heart flutter. For many months, Ransom worried about being a terrible father. Well, if what he just said didn’t prove that he was gonna be a great father, then you don't know what would.

Your hands flew up to your fiance’s face, once again holding him close, so close that your noses bumped. Both of your eyes were closed in bliss, that was until Ransom quietly spoke up.

“The beamer’s fine right?”

Believe it or not, but sometimes Ransom could be a comedian around those he cared about. A few giggles left your mouth as you pulled away from the man who was also laughing himself.

“I-I’m...serious, babe!” It took a few tries for Ransom to get the sentence out without cackling. For years it had been a running joke that Mr. Drysdale loved his car more than himself which was quite the revelation, if you ever heard one.

Getting up from the bed, you leaned down to kiss between Ransom’s eyebrows that were knitted with concern.

“Yes, your other child is fine.”

“So now that the air is clear, are you hungry?”

Don’t judge, just because you may have eaten lasagna just a while ago, didn’t mean you’d pass the golden opportunity for more food. You eagerly nodded your head before sitting on Ransom’s knee. His arms were wrapped around you in a protective manner, while his hands held the phone with the menu on screen.

“Ran, what Chinese place is gonna be open this late?”

“Trust me, I know this place.”

Half an hour later, a man showed up on the doorstep holding a plastic bag hopefully filled with your late night smorgasbord. To your surprise, the bag was actually filled with all its content which needless to say didn’t last long. Between your endless stomach and Ransom’s growing hangover, the greasy meal trays were soon empty. You and Ransom had taken the food up to the bedroom, devouring it all, while laying on the bed enjoying the time together.

Even when things were rough, you and Ransom always found a way to get through.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x you

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we-are-inevitable · 4 years ago

Note

tell me about the cddm

OH GOD WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN

im just gonna post a few lil highlights from old chapters:

sarah calling david gay because he wears glasses

jack trying to rope crutchie into ‘getting rid of’ davey

davey, upon hearing that the musical he’s auditioning for is anastasia: “Oh, great! I’m going to be cast as the ugly bat!”

here’s a quote from davey’s pov about jack:

It’s a shame that he’s so pretty, since his attitude seems to be the exact opposite.

medda is like rich rich but she still teaches bc she wants to

it is cddm canon that jack HAS gotten drunk at a football game and DID throw up into the back of Oscar Delancey’s truck

Kath and Sarah are together, Race and Spot are together, Crutchie is the token straight friend, Jack is closeted, Davey is very much out and single, Albert and Smalls (who i named Samantha O’Brien in this fic, btw) are like. disgustingly cute together... this fic has Everything

and how could you NOT love a theatre kid au ??

SHOULD I REPOST THE FIRST CHAPTER,, Y’ALL LET ME KNOW

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

Hey guys! Many, many apologies for the delay in this two-part update to the POTC AU! I won’t bog down this with too many notes, as I know I left y’all on a cliffhanger last time, sooooo...

Previous part is here! Full tag is here! Rakepick’s hair here is modeled off the outline of a Lion’s Mane Jellyfish! Zephyr (or Zephyrus) was the name of the deity of the West Wind in Greek mythology, just as Calypso was a Greek nymph of the sea that first appeared in The Odyssey! And MCs referenced in this section are Jules Farrier-Weasley @cursebreakerfarrier; Finn McGarry/Davy Jones @theguythatdraws and Samantha O’Connell @samshogwarts!

x~x~x~x~x

It had started to rain. Aboard the Clearwater, the tide of battle had turned in the pirates’ favor. Even though Charlie was injured, he was able to rally the crew of the fallen Phoenix against the Navy, beating them back so they could take over the ship. Many Navy men were so afraid that they defied orders and fled to the jollyboats in an attempt to escape the pirates’ onslaught. Charlie was perfectly willing to let them go -- he consistently ordered his crew not to retaliate, if the soldiers surrendered or retreated. After all, the ship was all they wanted -- they didn’t necessarily need to kill, in order to get that.

Everything was going right when all of a sudden, one particularly brave Navy soldier with a blond ponytail -- upon surrendering -- abruptly changed his mind, unsheathed his sword, and charged at Charlie. Charlie was able to block him with his own dragon-hilted sword, but because he was too injured to properly stand, he was unable to dodge or step the way he normally could have, so he was immediately put on the defensive.

Charlie clenched his teeth, trying to power through the pain in his leg, and blocked all of the soldier’s next five blows. It wasn’t easy to try to sword fight while staying stationary -- the form almost required being able to weave around and lunge toward your opponent, if one wanted to win.

The blond soldier, clearly wet behind the ears but determined to win, took advantage of Charlie’s injury by kicking him right in his broken leg.

“ACK!”

Charlie collapsed onto the deck with a pained hiss.

Samantha, who’d been just tossed another soldier overboard on the other far end of the ship, heard Charlie fall and hurried to try to help, but she was too far away. Charlie just barely managed to keep a hold of his sword and was able to block the blond soldier’s next blow, but struggled to push the other blade back away from him.

“This ends now, pirate!” said the boyish soldier in a show of misguided conviction.

THUNK.

The soldier instantly froze up, his eyes going wide and his head falling forward in response to something having collided with the back of it. Then his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed.

Standing just overhead with his sword hilt where the blond soldier’s head just was a freckled young man dressed in a blue and white captain’s uniform and a damp white-powdered wig.

“Percy?” gasped Charlie.

The third-eldest Weasley was very pale as he stared from the hilt of his sword, which was smeared with some blood, to down at Charlie.

“...I reckon I may have hit him a bit too hard,” he said rather weakly.

Wiping the blood off on the inside of his coat, he then quickly sheathed his sword and hurried to grab onto Charlie and help him to his feet.

“Charlie, I’m -- I’m so sorry -- I never should’ve let you and Bill go without me -- I’ve been such a - ”

But Charlie didn’t need to hear any more. In an instant, he’d thrown his arms around his younger brother and squeezed him in a huge hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Perce,” he said lowly.

Percy’s eyes prickled with tears as he squeezed his brother in return.

“Charlie, I think Carey’s in trouble,” he confessed.

Charlie pulled back enough to look Percy straight-on in the eye as Samantha reached them at last. “She is. Davy Jones plans to commandeer her into his crew.”

“What?!” Percy was scandalized.

“Bill and Jules are on the Revolution right now, with Carey’s brother -- ”

Charlie indicated the Revolution and Flying Dutchman, which were still hotly engaged in battle.

“The only way we can stop him from taking Carey and get close enough to capture Beckett,” the second-eldest Weasley explained, “is if we can take him out.”

“If we can capture Beckett, we’ll have enough leverage to force the Navy to surrender,” said Samantha. “We don’t have enough firepower to stop the fighting any other way.”

Percy’s brown eyes too faced the sea, instead flicking over to the HMS Lion. His eyes widened when he took in what he saw.

The jollyboats were being lowered...?

He darted over the railing, taking out a telescope to look out.

“Perce?” asked Charlie. With some help from Samantha, he joined his brother at the railing.

“They’re evacuating,” said Percy, dumbstruck. “Everyone’s heading for the HMS Swallow.”

Charlie’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“But why?” said Samantha. “If they wanted to retreat, couldn’t they use their flagship to do it?”

Percy shook his head. “Not if the flagship was going to be used to signal the rest of the Navy...”

He combed the jollyboats with his eyes through his telescope. He saw Beckett lingering on the deck of the ship overlooking the jollyboats, but there were no familiar manes of ginger red hair.

Percy gave a start. Suddenly Carewyn’s words from before made sense.

“Don’t try to protect me or my reputation -- those things won’t matter much longer anyway...”

“...Carey,” breathed Percy. “Carey’s leading the retreat. She must’ve openly rebelled against Beckett’s orders -- ”

Charlie’s face went a lot paler. He understood the gravity of what that meant -- after everything she’d done to stay with the Navy, Carewyn had thrown away her safe position with Beckett at a chance to stop the fighting...meaning that she now also effectively opened herself to being tarred with treason.

Percy lowered his telescope, his jaw clenching anxiously as he looked out at the Revolution and the Flying Dutchman. The water under the two warring ships was burbling and swirling ominously.

The ginger-haired Navy captain bowed his head, looking very solemn.

“There’s no way that Beckett will let her get away with that,” he murmured. “He’ll do anything he has to, in order to destroy all of you. If we give him the chance to contradict Carey’s orders to the ships out here and rally the HMS Swallow and the rest of the fleet in a counterattack, then it’s all over.”

His brown eyes narrowed as he looked from Samantha to Charlie.

“If you need Jones out of the way in order to get at Beckett,” he said firmly, “then we’re taking the Clearwater straight to the Flying Dutchman.”

Underneath the Flying Dutchman and the Revenge swirled a terrible, turbulent current -- one that bent back in on itself in a demented, sickening spiral. It soon ensnared both ships in a slowly circling, deepening, descending whirlpool, illuminated largely by the cracks of violent white lightning that crashed through the sky.

Calypso was clearly not pleased about the Dutchman’s new captain.

Meanwhile, on the HMS Lion, Beckett had Orion and Carewyn cornered in the hull of the Navy ship, standing in front of the one and only staircase they could’ve used to quickly escape.

“I didn’t think I could dislike you any more, Admiral,” said Beckett with a icy cold smile as he quickly reloaded his pistol to shoot again, “but for the second time today, you’ve served to only give me more reason.”

His eyes flickered over to Orion, darkening with even further hatred, as he raised his pistol again.

“Don’t do it, Beckett,” Orion said, his voice very low in his throat with both solemnity and disapproval. “Destroying us would only destroy yourself -- ”

“You may skip the philosophy lecture, Amari,” said Beckett, pointing the pistol right at his head.

His eyes swept over the scene, analyzing it.

“If you’re here...I daresay you’ve sabotaged this ship -- just like you did my fleet of slave ships, several years back. Given your tenseness about me using my pistol, I can only fathom it’s something explosive -- I’d most assuredly have to get back in the jollyboat quickly, to escape that. And since the Admiral and you are in league with each other, it’s only logical to presume that she sent my crew away because she knew of it and didn’t want any harm to come to them. Your nobility truly is unparalleled, Carewyn Weasley. It’s just a shame you place men at such a higher value than property -- or your own self-preservation.”

His eyes flashed at Carewyn, looking if possible even colder than before as he took a few steps backward up the stairs.

“Truly, this is nothing personal,” he said in a very unconvincing voice. “Making sure that both of you can’t get in my way again...is just good business.”

His pistol, which had been pointing at Orion’s head, abruptly changed aim toward the barrels behind him. Carewyn lunged forward, but her lack of height made it so her strides were too short to reach Beckett fast enough, and since Orion was so focused on dodging, he wasn’t able to shift gears to follow Carewyn’s lead in time.

BAM.

The Clearwater had just come up on the Flying Dutchman inside the swirling maelstrom when the ship’s crew’s attention was drawn to the huge, flaming explosion that within minutes overtook and consumed the HMS Lion.

The sight alarmed Percy and Charlie, who were both convinced Carewyn was still on-board. Charlie, refusing to believe that Carewyn was dead, nonetheless harried Percy into action. They had to defeat Jones and capture Beckett to stop the battle -- it was the only chance they had at getting to Carewyn, since the maelstrom’s current was now way too strong for them to pull out of.

“Calypso wouldn’t drown you, though, would she?” asked Samantha loudly over the pouring rain. “You two get on, don’t you?”

“She was my friend when she was human, yeah,” granted Charlie with a weak smile, holding onto the railing so as to keep himself upright on his broken leg, “but remember, she sees things as a goddess now! Her anger’s clearly on the Dutchman and the Revolution -- I’m probably the size of an ant right now compared to her, I can’t assume she’ll be able to pick me out in this whole mess!”

He shook out his tricorn hat, which had gathered a puddle of water on the brim, and then slapped it back onto his head.

“I reckon the best way to save ourselves and the Revolution is to help deal with what’s gotten her so pissed off! Ready the lines -- prepare to board the Dutchman!”

At the exact same time, as either luck or fate would have it, the pirate called “Behemoth Ben” Copper had been trying to convince the soldiers aboard one of the other Man O’Wars, the HMS Royal, that he’d been sent with orders from Lord Beckett that they were to evacuate to the HMS Swallow, as the HMS Lion’s crew had. When the Lion blew up, Ben, in a rather brilliant move, took advantage of the flaming wreck to bolster his ruse.

“You see?”the tall blue-and-white-disguised pirate shot at them harshly over the pouring rain. “The Lion was compromised! That must’ve been why it was evacuated! And that’s why we’re being ordered to evacuate now as well -- the Lion is not the only one! Now stop stalling, or you’ll lose a lot more than just your rank! Abandon ship! To the HMS Swallow! NOW!”

Once the Navy officers had left in the jollyboats, Ben and the rest of the ex-Navy pirates easily commandeered the HMS Royal, following along behind the Artemis as the smaller white sloop headed for the remains of the Lion. McNully had not seen either his Captain or the Admiral escape the wreckage -- Ben prayed with everything in him that they somehow had.

When Percy left the wounded Charlie and Samantha in charge of the Clearwater and swung over to the Dutchman, he found Bill and Jacob hotly engaged in battle with Patricia Rakepick. The pirate-turned-privateer did not look like herself at all -- there was no light in her dark blue eyes and her long ginger hair flowed loose around her, the strands flicking at the air like tiny tentacles that seemed to crackle with unnatural electricity. Her blouse also gaped open at the chest, exposing a long-sealed up scar right over her rip cage, and she bore down on Bill and Jacob with ferocity, slashing at them with the intent to kill. Percy immediately yanked out his own sword and blocked Rakepick before she could land a blow on Bill, his brown eyes flaring and his teeth bared in an oddly fierce expression.

“Stay away from my brother,” snarled the Navy captain.

Bill’s face lit up in shock and delight. “Percy?”

Rakepick, however, didn’t give the two any time for a proper reunion -- instead she immediately engaged Percy, beating him back with her sword while also holding off Jacob, who continued to cut at her with his own blade.

“This sibling is not the one you should be protecting, boy,” said Rakepick very coldly.

Once she’d successfully fended off Percy and Jacob for the moment, she went after Bill again, hacking in the direction of his head with her sword.

Percy was about to chase Rakepick, but just before he did, another voice called his name over the rain.

“Percy Weasley!”

Percy turned, to see an unusually striking, clean-shaven and well-dressed pirate with brown eyes and a brown ponytail fending off about three different fishy members of the Dutchman’s crew. When their eyes met over one of the cursed pirates’ shark-shaped head, Percy felt like the clean-shaven man was somehow able to see right through him, and yet it was an oddly relaxing feeling, rather than anything intrusive. The man’s eyes narrowed upon Percy, as if he’d determined something important just by looking at his face.

“You’re needed here!” Ashe said firmly. “Come here, now!”

Percy wasn’t sure why he followed that direction, but he nonetheless dashed over and helped Ashe beat back Jones’s old crew members. Once he’d reached that side of the deck, he found Jules knelt down on the deck behind Ashe, holding a very familiar wrought-iron Chest with a heart-shaped lock in her lap and a make-shift lock-pick in one hand.

“Percy!” breathed Jules.

Percy immediately bent down beside her, his freckled face very pale. “Charlie and I came to help -- Jules, I’m s -- ”

“It’s all right,” said Jules very quickly, almost dismissively. “Percy, we have to get the Dead Man’s Chest open -- Rakepick’s heart is inside, it may be the only way to stop her -- ”

“Rakepick’s?” said Percy with a start. “What happened to Jones?”

“He’s dead!” said Ashe very curtly, having to project his voice to be heard over the rain. “But now Rakepick’s got it in her head to tear down both our and your fleet, with the power she’s accrued! Worse still, that shark-headed feck threw the Key overboard, and there’s no way we’ll get it back in the middle of a raging storm! You know this Chest, don’t you?”

Percy had no idea how Ashe knew this, not knowing anything about the merfolk’s ability to sense the emotions, desires, and memories of humans, but the Navy Captain looked down at the Dead Man’s Chest with a rather surly expression.

“Yes -- Beckett asked Carey for help in opening it, since she’s great at picking locks! She and I were able to manage it after a while, once we’d tinkered with it enough...”

Percy reached up into his coat, tearing one of the ornamental buttons off and bending the hook into a long wire, like he’d seen Carewyn do once before when she didn’t have a lock-pick on hand.

“I think I remember how she did it -- Jules, help me!”

It seemed like the new captain of the damned was more focused on Bill than anything. Even though she obviously loathed Jacob and was clearly being given a run for her money by him despite her immortality, she still seemed to be actively trying to get around Jacob in an attempt to kill Bill.

Meanwhile, Cutler Beckett and the crew of the HMS Lion had just about reached the HMS Swallow in the jollyboats when all of a sudden, something massive lurched out of the raging waves. The crashing of the dark waves that slammed the jollyboats aside was so violent and large that the ocean seemed to roar almost as loudly as the monstrous mass that had emerged from its depths -- one so large that one could really only make out tentacles and a black-hole-like mouth framed with about a hundred rows of sharp teeth.

It was the Kraken -- brought back to life one final time by Calypso, to take its revenge.

Beckett very shakily clutched onto the overturned boat he’d been riding in a moment ago. His tricorn hat had fallen off and his powdered white wig was drenched, but he barely even seemed aware of it. “This -- this is impossible,” he breathed. He looked out at the other overturned jollyboats and the fleeing soldiers being yanked aboard the HMS Swallow and other ships a good ten miles away, with an endless, thousand-mile stare. His face was pallid and as blank as a doll’s as he very, very slowly turned his gaze up onto the wide-open jaws of the Kraken bearing down on him.

“Seems my little pet remembers you.” Beckett’s eyes widened. He whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, but instead of being faced with the barnacle-encrusted, octopus-bearded Davy Jones, he was face-to-face with a very tall, translucent, glowing cloud of mist -- like a shadow, if it were made of light instead of darkness. Its form was nebulous enough that it couldn’t be considered solid, but one could still barely make out the face of a pirate with a slash-like scar over his eye and a cold smile framed by a beard. It hovered leisurely over the ocean waves, occasionally slipping in and out of the blackened water with ease. “He’s come back one last time just for you, Beckett,” said Finn McGarry’s spirit, his eyes flashing with satisfaction. “You should be flattered.” Beckett’s mouth hung open slightly like a fish. He seemed unable to speak as he looked from Finn to up at the Kraken’s open jaws. “Wait -- you -- you can’t -- ” Finn began to laugh. It was a very loud, harsh sound. “Calypso has made my soul one with the air, Beckett,” he spat in intense satisfaction, “transforming me into Zephyr -- the West Wind over her raging sea. Neither you nor your precious stooge Rakepick hold any power over me now.” In an instant, the incorporeal white light that was Finn -- now the West Wind itself -- exploded, encompassing Beckett in a concentrated dome of swirling air. The head of the East India Trading Company tried to move, but Zephyr was so strong that he rivaled a hurricane and he held Beckett down in place against the overturned jollyboat with little effort, so he couldn’t even try to swim away. “And since you have nothing to offer me that I could possibly want -- money -- status...hell, my own life -- you can hardly expect me to have any reason to spare you,” Zephyr’s voice breathed cruelly. “‘It’s just good business.’” No one on the HMS Swallow, the HMS Royal, or any of the other neighboring Navy or pirate ships nearby, heard whether or not Beckett screamed before he died. The Kraken’s jaws and tentacles ensnaring the jollyboat and pulling it down into the depths in one gulp blocked out any possible sound he could’ve made.

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