#he’s her number one fan and taught her how to swear and use a gun trust me I was his hat

[m4ggotm0ld]

trying to find platonic robinhill stuff bc i think they so much father and daughter potential but no one knows how to tag properly so i just get people romantically shipping them

[fruitcoops]

could you write a coops getting a piercing or tattoo (one or both of them)?

Part 6 of the Coops wedding fics! Thank you to everyone who has read this series--it’s been so much fun writing these, and hearing everyone’s thoughts made the past week an absolute blast. Hope you enjoy!

Check out the rest of the series on the Series Masterlist!

If someone had told twenty-year-old Sirius that in a few years, he would be walking into a tattoo parlor, hand-in-hand with his husband as they prepared to get their wedding date permanently inked on his skin…well, he probably would have laughed in their face. He had never been a big fan of tattoos—they looked cool, sure, but he never understood the point of going through all that hullabaloo for something that would stretch and fade.

Now, though, he saw the point. Wedding rings were amazing, but they were easy to lose; tattoo ink, on the other hand, was a permanent reminder that he had scored the most wonderful person on the planet as his husband.

“Right this way,” Jaya, the young artist with bright blue hair said, smiling as they waved him and Remus into the back. “Congrats on the wedding, by the way. How long has it been?”

“Three weeks.” Remus squeezed his hand and Sirius smiled, running his thumb over the ring. God, he would never get tired of seeing it there.

“It went well, I assume?” Jaya asked as they began setting up.

“It was perfect.” Sirius felt a jolt of fear in his stomach when he saw the tattoo gun, but quickly quashed it down; they had done their research and worked on the design with Jaya even before the actual wedding. He wanted to do this.

“We talked about the process over the phone, but do you have any questions? I’ll go over aftercare again once we’re done.” Jaya paused for a moment, but neither of them spoke up. “Alright, then, which brave soul wants to go first?”

Best to get it over with, Sirius thought. “I can go,” he said, much quieter than intended. Remus raised his eyebrows and he kissed his forehead quickly in reassurance before settling into the chair. He let go of Remus’ hand for a second to pull his shirt over his head, then took it once again and tried to stop the fluttery nerves in his gut.

“Right in the center, yeah?” Jaya leaned down with a stencil, their silver-lined eyes flicking up to Sirius’ face.

“Yep.”

“Alright.” He swallowed hard at the cold feeling of the paper on his skin, just below the hollow of his throat. His neck felt bare without the necklace, but it would be back soon enough. Jaya held a mirror up to show the small numbers. “Look good?”

Sirius nodded. “Let’s do it.”

His heart hammered in his throat and he let out a shaky breath as Jaya cleaned the area and cleaned up their drawing, then picked up the tattoo gun. “Je t’ai,” Remus murmured as he closed his eyes in a last-ditch attempt at relaxing. “You’re alright.”

“Oh, fuck,” Sirius hissed when the needles touched his skin. He clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on Remus’ hand, breathing slowly as pain prickled all across his chest. It felt like a million bee stings, or the last week of his broken ribs healing.

“Do you need a break?” Jaya asked without looking up.

“Just keep going,” he managed, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. The buzzing sound wasn’t quite as frightening as the strange kind of pain, but it certainly didn’t settle his anxiety.

“You okay, baby?” Remus folded his other hand over Sirius’ and traced a pattern into his wrist.

“Mhmm.”

“Lily and James invited us to dinner next week. Harry’s been asking to see the new baby lions at the zoo with you specifically. He’s also learned the word ‘lame’ and won’t stop using it on James.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Lily says it was her fault, but she told James it was me who taught him to say it.” Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“It’s karma. You taught him to actually swear, after all.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Remus complained. “The line is, ‘that’s so unfair, sweetheart, and we need to get revenge’.”

“Right, sor—ow.” Sirius blew out a harsh breath as the needle skimmed over a sensitive patch of skin and bit the inside of his lip.

Jaya made a sympathetic noise. “Just a couple more minutes in this area and then we’ll take a break.”

Sirius turned his head toward Remus and quirked an eyebrow. “Were you trying to distract me?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He moved one hand up to brush the hair off his forehead; Sirius melted into the touch, channeling his attention into the tingly feeling of Remus’ fingers in his hair. “Almost done, love.”

“I’ve got most of it done,” Jaya said, sitting back at last. “Just cleanup work now, and that’ll only take a few minutes. You’re lucky with all the muscle on your chest. It would hurt like a bitch if it was closer to the bone.”

“It already hurts like a bitch,” Sirius laughed, grimacing as Jaya flexed their hand and leaned in again.

“When you two told me your placements at our first appointment, I was a bit surprised,” they murmured, back in the zone already. “Most first-timers don’t choose such sensitive spots.”

“The placement was the important part,” he said, wincing.

“With your necklace, right?”

“Yep.”

“I always like it when people have cute meanings.” Jaya swiped their cloth over the small tattoo before continuing. “I mean, I got most of my ink because I thought it looked cool, but hearing people’s stories is the best part of the job.”

“Would you say the wrist or the chest is more painful?” Remus asked.

Jaya bit their lip. “Depends on the person. The chest area has more bone, but wrists are notorious for hurting.”

Remus hummed, but Sirius heard the edge of tension and kissed the side of his hand. “You’ll be fine.”

“You’re one in the chair,” he laughed. “I’m supposed to be reassuring you right now.”

Jaya glanced up at him. “Count down from thirty for me?”

Sirius frowned in confusion, but obliged; as soon as he reached ‘zero’, Jaya set the tattoo gun down and stretched their back out. “Was that—is it done?”

“Yep. Congrats, you’ve got a tattoo!” Jaya grinned as he sat up, then handed him a mirror. There, in black ink covering a space the size of a quarter, laid a perfect ‘6/12’. The skin around it was bright, angry red, but Sirius was more focused on the familiar slant to the six and the curl of the two; he had seen it written on the PT room whiteboard countless times and, more recently, their mock-up wedding invitations. “Do you like it?”

Sirius cleared his throat as a lump tightened it. “It’s—I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Jaya handed him his shirt as he stood. Remus took his place, looking a little pale as he rested his hand on the small table Jaya had set up next to the chair. “Still okay with the inside of your wrist?”

Remus hesitated, then set his jaw and nodded. “All good.”

“Are you sure.”

“A hundred percent,”

“Alright, let’s get that stencil on.” Jaya worked with clear intent and smooth ease—that had been one of the main reasons they decided on this shop above the others in the area. The cleaning was quick, Remus approved the stencil, and then they got to work.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about the wrist,” he half-laughed, gripping Sirius’ hand in a white-knuckled hold. “Now would be a good time to start talking, baby.”

“Oh! Um, we need to pick up eggs from the grocery store.” Jaya had to sit back as they both burst out laughing; Sirius put his face in his free hand to hide his blush. “Sorry, I panicked.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your day with Tremzy?” Remus suggested, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes as he settled back down.

“Yeah, okay,” Sirius said lamely. “Uh, I kicked his ass in Smash Bros.”

“You’ve got yourself a keeper,” Jaya said as they started working on Remus’ wrist again.

He smiled up at Sirius. “I know.”

The next fifty minutes passed much the same as they had while Sirius was getting his tattoo—he chatted almost nonstop, rambling about Logan’s terrible cooking and the standing invitation to bring Regulus along for a ‘we survived the Dumais house’ party. Remus scrunched his face up every few minutes, but Sirius kept their shoulders pressed together as he toyed with his free hand. Jaya gave him a thirty-second countdown as well before wiping away the last of the stray ink with a smile.

“How’s it look?”

Remus’ breath caught when he looked down, running his thumb along the lower edge. “That’s exactly what I wanted, thank you so much.”

“Any time, dude. Both of you have good pain tolerance.” They slid their cart to the side of the room again and stood, gathering some gauze and plastic wrap.

Remus leaned his head on Sirius’ shoulder with a sigh. “You have the prettiest handwriting.”

“And you have no excuse for forgetting our anniversary,” he teased, kissing his cheek. “How’s it feel?”

“Like I just got stabbed by a bunch of needles.”

Jaya snorted as he held his arm out for the bandages. “This might shock you, but…”

The three of them broke down laughing and Sirius shook his head, fiddling with the edge of the tape that he could feel under his shirt. A dull ache had begun spreading warmth over his skin and he knew the itching would drive him half-crazy over the next two weeks, but it was an easy price to pay for having his husband’s handwriting on him for the rest of his life. A permanent ‘I love you’, he had said the night after they decided on the design. Sirius smiled to himself as Jaya outlined the aftercare procedures. Permanent. Permanent sounded good.

[consumeconstantly]

Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble. 

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place. 

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet. 

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.” 

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip. 

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did. 

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again. 

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected. 

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned. 

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

[superfanficnatural]

Love, Tabby

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC(Tabby)... so not really “Original Character” lol

Summary: Tabby is turning 30 today and Dean has a special surprise in store for her.

A/N: So Monday is Tabby’s 30th birthday, but we are celebrating it today, so this is my birthday present to you @winchest09​. I really hope you like it, I LOVE YOU !!!

Warnings: HEAVY FLUFF.

Word Count: 4,659

Tabby woke up in her bed, feeling grumpy as she did every time she woke up. Reaching over, she felt a cold spot where her husband usually was, fear settling in her heart. Shooting up out of bed, she put on her clothes and rushed to the door, noticing a piece of paper attached to the frame. 

Confused, she pulled it off of the tape and took a look at the note, “Hey, sweetheart. I know you’re probably freaking out over where I am and if I’m alright. I’m fine. I’ve set up a little scavenger hunt for you, and yes, you have to do it,” she chuckled as she shook her head. “Maybe you will find out what it’s for as you go along, but for right now, I’m gonna give you five.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Five what?” 

Turning the paper over to its back, she saw five numbers with writing next to them, “#1-You’re kind - I’ve never met someone with such a pure and honest heart. The kindness you treat others with never ceases to amaze me, even if they were an asshole at some bar. It’s one of the reasons that I fell for you,” she smiled, his words warming her heart.

“#2- You’re thoughtful - Whenever I feel like shit, or even Sam, you always know. You always cook us a meal, or talk to us and somehow manage to make us open up. You always make me feel so loved. I never thought that I deserved it, but you’re always there to help me, no matter what,” she felt anger bubble up inside of her, he did deserve love, and she would never stop trying to convince him.

“#3- You’re compassionate - It’s like you have some kind of superpower to be able to feel how others are. Whenever I felt at my lowest, you were right there with me. It seemed like you felt the exact pain I was going through and because of that, I never felt alone. You are the reason that I never feel alone.”

“#4- You’re an awesome friend - Even before we started dating, you were always so attentive, so helpful. You set the bar high for anyone who tries to call themselves a good friend. When Sam was struggling and hurting, you even went out and bought him a salad. A damn salad! You put on his favorite TV show and sat down with him the entire night. I remember he told me the day after that if I didn’t marry you, he would kill me,” she chuckled and blushed, happy that his brother wanted them to be together as well.

“#5- You’re a great mom - Ever since our girl was born, you were always hovering over her, always making sure she was safe and healthy. I swear I’ve had to drag you away from her crib just so you could get some sleep when she was first born. The amount of love that you look at our kid with, I never knew how much it would affect me. Whenever we’re asleep, if she cries, you always told me to go back to sleep and that you would handle it. No other mom could compare to you, and I know our kid knows that too,” she began to tear up. “Damn it, Dean. Making me cry this early in the morning,” she choked out a laugh, wiping her eyes.

Below the fifth number, there was some more writing, “Go to the place that you and Sam have hung out the most. This should be an easy one,” she could practically see his eye roll as he wrote this and instantly knew where to look, the library.

She left the room with the paper in her hand and made her way over to the library. She didn’t realize it, but he could have probably hidden the paper somewhere within the hundreds of books they had. Huffing, she solidified her resolve and got to digging, opening up books and flipping through them to see if the paper was inside. After about a half hour and two hundred books later, she sighed out tired and sat down on one of the chairs at the table. 

“How the hell am I-” she began before she perked up. She remembered that she and Sam had spent a lot of time under the table when they first met; they wrote basically all the most important information they could need on monsters in bullet points. She also remembered Dean saying they were acting like children but she didn’t care, it was a great way to bond with Sam and they both had a lot of fun.

Reaching under the table and feeling around, she felt a piece of paper taped to the bottom, “Bingo.”

Pulling it out from under the table, “I know the first note had a bit of stuff written before the numbers, but moving on, mostly just the numbers and the location of the next paper will be written.”

Bracing herself, she turned over the paper and began to read, “#6- You’re selfless - You care about others more than yourself. While other people call that heroic, I hate it. You always want to jump in front of me when a monster is attacking or pushing me out of the way, when really, I’m the one who should be doing that. You’ve given me so many goddamn heart attacks, I’m gonna die one of these days. But I also love it, because it goes to show just how incredible you are. Always looking out for other people was my thing, but then you came along and smacked me in the face. I remember you said, “Well then who the hell is gonna look out for you, Winchester?” I’ve come to realize that I love it, because I know you will always be there for me,” she giggled, remembering that very day where she slapped him and told him that. 

“#7- You’re super smart - I thought that Sam was smart, but then you came along. You taught us both things that we never knew and I’ve always been jealous of how smart you are. Don’t feel bad babe, I’m just trying to compliment you. Every time we were stumped on a hunt, you spent no more than five minutes thinking before you figured out a way to get us out or to save more people. You’re the reason so many of our hunts go better than they would normally, and I know every family we save is grateful to you for that.”

“#8- You’re aces at researching - I hate researching, we all know that. But with you, Sam finally had someone to geek out with and to help research on a case. Both of your minds combined prove to be the most powerful thing in this world, no monster stands a chance. I have no idea how you actually enjoy it but I won't argue with it, for it’s saved all of our asses multiple times.”

“#9- You can cut a man's hair like a boss - Neither me or Sam are big fans of barber shops, so I’m also extremely thankful that you can cut hair. I don’t think anyone has cut my hair as well as you have, and you always manage to get it just the way I want it. I love you,” no matter how many times she heard him say it, it always managed to make her blush and her heart to beat faster. 

Smiling, she continued, “#10- You’re a great photographer - I never liked pictures and honestly I don’t think that I ever will. Thankfully, you force me to get in them and I’m so glad that you do. Because of it, we have so many beautiful pictures to look at and reminisce. My favorite picture you’ve taken was the one of all of us together. You set up the camera and had us all sit down on the couch, our kid on my lap. The happiness I felt that day with all of you was one of the greatest I had ever felt in my life. I will be forever grateful to you that you took that picture.”

Once again, there was more writing underneath the numbers, “Go to the place where I spend the most time in the bunker.”

It took her all of three seconds to know where he was talking about, their bedroom. She was slightly confused, due to the fact that the first paper was there, but continued on and went to their shared bedroom.

Opening the door, she looked around and wondered where the hell he could have put it. The bed? The closet? Under one of the guns? She thought back to his exact words “I spend the most time” and blushed. When they first started dating and even after they got married, Dean was insatiable. Always dragging her to the bed to try out something new, but she loved it every time. Walking over to the bed, she flung over the sheets to the side and saw a piece of paper under them on Dean’s side of the bed. 

Grabbing the paper, she read, “I could almost see the blush on your face babe, turn to the back,” she blushed harder at the fact that he knew exactly what she was thinking and followed his instructions.

“#11- You’re a loving wife - I never thought that someone as perfect and beautiful as you would even give me a second glance. Turns out, you would. I thought that you were just infatuated and that you would “get over me” but thank God you proved me wrong. Every single day, you make sure that I feel cherished, and I can’t even put into words how incredible that feels. I’ve never felt loved in the way that you give me before, and it’s a feeling that I never want to lose. I love you more than I’ve loved anything in my entire life.” She could feel the tears falling from her eyes onto the piece of paper, “Dammit, Dean. Now you’ve done it,” she sniffled.

“#12- You have a great accent - Just hearing you talk is like music to my ears. Don’t even get me started on your laugh, it's one of the cutest things I’ve ever heard and I can’t help but laugh right along with you whenever you do. That very same voice comforts me when I feel like shit, compliments me when I try and look good for you, and whispers sexy nothings into my ear that drives me insane,” her blush from before returned instantly, her face red as a tomato, a nervous giggle escaping her lips.

“#13- You’re absolutely gorgeous - From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew that you were everything that I wanted. Your eyes shine brighter than any light I’ve ever seen and your body is perfect, no matter how self conscious you get. I swear if I could, I would grab all of your doubts and insecurities and send them straight into the Empty, because you are perfect. You don’t need makeup, your natural beauty already puts all other people to rest.”

“Am I gonna be blushing this entire damn day? Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled.

“#14- You have incredible red hair - After I met you, my new favorite color was red. The way it shines off of the sunlight as the wind flows it through your face. I could just sit there and watch you for hours. You put Rowena to shame, babe.”

“#15- You wear plaid and “Winchester Clothes” - I think you look perfect in anything you wear but damn, the way you look in my clothes. It’s one of the reasons why I can’t get enough of you,” her face was so heated that she felt like she was going to explode. 

Taking a few moments to collect herself, she began reading once more, “You wear plaid better than Sam and I, and I’m all for it, babe.”

Once again, there was more writing underneath it, “Go to the thing I love fourth most on this planet.” 

She knew that herself, Sam, and her child were the first three, so Baby had to be the fourth. Shaking her head with a laugh, she left the room and went over to the garage. She still didn’t understand the point of all of this, when will the numbers end? Why is it all about me? She had a few questions swimming around her mind but continued on regardless. 

Reaching the garage, she walked over to Baby and opened the drivers side door, getting in and closing the door behind her. She looked around the seats and under them, checking the back as well. She was about to go check the trunk until she opened the passengers side compartment and saw a piece of paper inside. 

“I know you must be wondering what this is all about since you’re adorably oblivious, but just enjoy the ride, sweetheart. You’re almost finished.” She sighed in annoyance with a smile on her face, “Who says I’m oblivious?”

She turned the paper around to see another five numbers written on it, “#16- You’re a good hugger - Now, while this might seem kinda like “ok?? What’s so good about that?” kinda thing, it isn’t to me. I can’t even count the amount of times that I felt broken, and you hugged me. It felt like you were slowly putting all the pieces back together by simply holding me. It gave me such a comforting feeling, once again reminding me that I wasn’t alone, and that you were there for me. I only hope that I can manage to do the same for you.”

“Of course you do, you dummy,” she laughed out, trying to hold her tears back. The sheer amount of times that she felt safe in his arms was uncountable. She was so grateful to him for that and she felt overjoyed that she was able to do the same for him. 

“#17- You’re resilient - I remember the time that you were captured by demons to trap me. You held up for an entire day of torture without giving them an inch. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that, but I’m so glad that you managed to convince me to stay with you. We both remember how scared I was of losing you, how I still am. But if you didn’t convince me to stay, I wouldn’t be happy like I am now. I wouldn’t be married to the most incredible woman on this planet and I wouldn’t have a child that I would do anything for. I love you, Tabby.” 

She vividly remembered that time, she also remembered how horrible she felt for putting Dean through that. She was just as glad as he was that they managed to get past it and move on with their relationship. 

“#18- You have a vivid imagination - Before every hunt, you would always think of different ways that things could go down and explain it to us. Because of that, whenever the plan doesn’t work, we have what you perceived to help us win. You’re so incredible, sweetheart. That imagination has also helped in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”

She could practically see the wink and smirk on his face, finding herself blushing once again at his implication, “You just had to go there, didn’t you?” she asked rhetorically with a chuckle. 

“#19- You love me - Yeah yeah yeah, I said it, suck it up. I think you are incredible because you love me, alright? You make me feel special and… goddamn it, now you got me talking about chick flick stuff. The amount of love written in your eyes whenever you look at me never ceases to take my breath away. I’m so grateful to you that you chose me out of all people to give your love to, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the person that you deserve.”

She felt her heart warm at his words, but also anger began to rise up inside of her, “You deserve love more than anyone else, you idiot.”

“#20- You’re a great mentor - When all those refugees came from the other world, you were the first to volunteer to teach them new things and to show them around our own. Because of you, all of them managed to adjust so much quicker to this world than they would have with us. Because of you, they managed to leave the bunker and go live out in our society. You are amazing, Tabby.”

“Go to the place that we had our first argument.”

She instantly recognized where he meant, the torture room. It was easy to remember because it was the first time that she thoroughly disagreed with him on something. They argued about whether they should use it to torture monsters or not, for her heart was still so pure, even monsters weren’t on her torture list.

Tabby closed the compartment in the passenger seat and got out of the car, all of the papers still in her hand, and walked through the winding turns of the bunker until eventually she reached the room. Going inside, she knew that the paper would be relatively easy to find, for the room was basically empty except for the chair in the middle of the room. Surely enough, when she walked in, the paper was sitting directly on top of the chair. 

She walked towards it and picked it up, “I remember this argument damn well, it was the first time we disagreed on something so heavily. In my defense, I had the mark at the time we had this argument so I’m using that as an excuse. Tough luck, sweetheart.”

She shook her head and scoffed, turning the paper over to read what she assumed were the next five numbers. 

“#21- Your sneeze is cute - Sure, this might seem irrelevant, but it’s not to me. Sometimes I would purposefully try and get you to sneeze just so I can hear how adorable it is. And yes, the pepper inside of the book you were reading was put there by me, I’m sorry, ok?! I just wanted to hear that cute sneeze of yours, I hope you’re not mad, princess.”

“Of fucking course,” she snorted.

“#22- You get overly excited about the smallest gifts or gestures - I have no idea why, but you just do. Yet another thing that is impossibly adorable about you. I remember I bought you a simple damn necklace I got for like $10 and you freaked out. I think it’s because you appreciate everything, no matter how small it is, and that is what makes you unattainable, baby. So precious and special, no man can have you. I just know that my favorite reaction from you was when I gave you that wedding ring. The look on your face when I got on my knees and took it out of my pocket was the best thing I have ever laid my eyes on. I truly love you, and I will try my damn hardest to always make sure you know that.”

She couldn’t help the tears from streaming down her eyes while she played with the ring on her finger, reminiscing about that day. It was the happiest day in her entire life, aside from when she gave birth to her daughter.

“#23- You love your mom - Now this might seem like an “oh everyone loves their parents, not a big deal” kind of thing, but with you it isn’t. You’re always checking up on her and seeing how she is, always offering to help with something when you really don’t need to. The amount of love and contempt you speak with when you talk about your mom is ridiculous, I’ve never seen someone able to hold so much love inside of their body. It’s inspiring and makes me want to be a better person. I don’t remember feeling that kind of love before, until you came along. You might argue that I felt it with Cassie or something but that was nothing compared to this. Hell, it makes it seem like a high school crush compared to how I feel about you. I never thought that I could love something or someone so much, but you came along and completely changed all of that.”

He was right and she knew it. Tabby loved her mom with everything that she had, and she was euphoric to know that she could give Dean that feeling as well.

“#24- You descent from fucking Vikings - I mean come on! How awesome is that? I’m so honored to be able to call you mine. You badass, intelligent, independent, incredible woman. This explanation is kinda short but come ON! Vikings??”

She giggled to herself as she read along, proud of her heritage and her bloodline.

“#25- You cook up the best breakfast - You are a goddamn Chef, babe. Ever since you walked into the bunker, me and Sam have been living the high life every morning with your damn good food. I used to think that I could cook well until you made our first meal. I knew then that I would bow down to you and beg for you to cook every meal I ever ate from then on.”

She smirked proudly to herself, knowing that she could cook up a killer meal.

“You’re almost done sweetheart, just one more. Go to the place that has to do with the last number.”

“Simple enough; the kitchen,” she spoke mostly to herself.

Even through all of this, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what was going on. Maybe Dean was right and she was simply oblivious. Either way, she was having more fun than she would admit and was silently reveling in the amount of things that he found amazing about her.

Leaving the room, she made her way over to the kitchen, pausing at the door and once again huffing out.

“How the hell am I supposed to find a piece of paper in all of this?” she rhetorically asked, exasperated. 

Stomping her foot once or twice, she recalled the last piece of paper, reading once again that this was the last one. 

“Fine. Fine fine fine, this better be the last one,” she reluctantly gave in.

Tabby spent twenty minutes looking around for the damned paper, rummaging through the cupboards and even checking the oven. She sat down at the table and ran her fingers through her hair, arguing in her mind whether to continue to search for it or just find Dean and ask what the hell was going on. She decided to keep looking, already having gotten this far. There was only one other place that she hadn’t looked, once again, under the table.

“I swear if it’s under here,” she muttered while reaching her hand under the table and feeling around for the paper. 

Surely enough, she felt it and rolled her eyes, pulling it out from under and reading it, “Congratulations babe, you reached the end, though, I’m not done yet. Turn over to the back one last time.”

She followed his instructions, turning over to the back and noticing five more numbers written down.

“#26- You bake the best pies - I think this one is self-explanatory, but I’ll go ahead and explain it anyways. You, Hallie, and Sam are my top three, Baby is my fourth, and pie is my fifth favorite thing in this world. The first time you made me a pecan pie, I had to hold myself back from moaning loud enough that the damn angels in heaven wouldn’t hear me. Once again, babe, you are a goddamn Chef and you can cook better than anyone else on this planet. Yet another reason I fell for you, what can I say, bake me a pie and you’ve won yourself my heart.”

She chuckled at his ridiculous love for pies, though, she loved baking them, for Dean wasn’t the only one who loved them. She recalled multiple times that they had to fight over the last slice, resulting in them splitting it.

“#27- You can play the guitar - I love rock music, and every rock song has a guitar in it. You play the guitar. Put the pieces together. Come onnn, you can do it. Am I really gonna have to spell it out for you? Fine. I love rock music, you can play rock music, I love you. Once again, princess, you are completely oblivious.”

“Shut up,” she muttered angrily, a small smile on her face no matter how hard she tried to hold it back.

“#28- You have an amazing voice - Even though you don’t agree, me and Sam love listening to you sing. You sound like an angel and if you would, I would ask you to lull me to sleep. Your voice calms me down and always brings a smile to my face. Your voice is just as beautiful as you are, Tab, and I hope you know that, forever walking this Earth.”

She was blushing furiously, for she never thought that she was a good singer. To hear it from someone she held so dearly, was nothing short of incredible. 

“#29- You always try to save everyone you can - Obviously, every hunter should try and do that, but you go above and beyond. It’s not even limited to hunting. I remember that one time a bee somehow got into the bunker and I was two seconds away from killing it. You stopped me and instead trapped it in a glass and released it back outside, saving its life. You are so pure and radiate positivity, it’s just unheard of.”

She remembered that time; Dean had his shoe in his hand and was just about to swat it until she caught his hand and took control of the situation. Tabby always had the ideology that nothing deserved to die unless it did harm to others, and it had served her well as a human being.

“#30- You gave me our child - Another thing that I am infinitely grateful for and will always love you for. Because of you, I have managed to love not two, but three people in this world with everything that I have. Our child looks just like you, sweetheart. Which means that she is the most beautiful child on this planet and she’s gonna be a heartbreaker when she grows up, just like her mom.” Tabby chuckled with a fond smile, their child really was beautiful. 

She was wondering what was next, for this was the last paper, until she read the message on the bottom, “Boo!”

“Huh?” she asked out loud before she felt a presence behind her.

Turning around, she was shocked to see Dean with their daughter in his arms, Sam next to them.

“Oh my gosh, what’s this all about?” Tabby asked, getting out of her seat and taking her daughter from Dean’s hands.

“Did you forget what day it is?” Sam asked with a grin.

She thought back to the date and remembered that it was her birthday, “Oh! Right!”

Sam chuckled and shook his head while Dean just gave her a loving look, “Happy birthday, baby, I love you,” he spoke softly, before kissing her softly.

“I love you too, but what’s up with all of the numbers and the scavenger hunt?” she questioned, still as oblivious as ever.

“You’re turning thirty so I wrote thirty things that are amazing about you, sweetheart,” Dean replied, slightly smirking at his dumbfounded wife. 

She felt tears prick at her eyes as she looked at him, “I love you, Dean.”

She pulled him into a hug with their child included, Hallie giggling slightly in her arms.

“And I love you, Tabatha Winchester.”

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ @flamencodiva​

[smolbeandrabbles]

Spera - Elias x Reader (Trespass)

Direct Follow Up To: Veritas GIF Credit: X

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ 

Author’s Note: *Story Time* Ha-! I went on holiday in September and there were a bunch of DVDs at the holiday home and no word of a lie, this was one of them and my parents wanted to see it. So, I kinda wanted to continue things from ‘Veritas’... and watching it again got me inspired (and I got to notice a bunch more stuff!) 

I was going to call this ‘What She Wants Tonight’ ... but then I decided to keep the Latin theme.

So you get Elias back-! 🎉

What She Wants Tonight - Luke Bryan  (Because of course it’s Luke Bryan)

Disclaimer: Trespass & associated characters not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine. / Call backs to Veritas / Kyle Sullivan (Guns for Hire) gets another name drop.

Premise: You hadn’t expected him to call you, of course. But then you didn’t think you’d expected to see him again either. On this mission you must work together. But it’s clear that that’s not your only objective...

Words: 7171

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Pre-Amble / I really can’t write action scenes.

_____ She walks up, velvet rope unhooks She snaps her fingers and a drink comes She locks you down with just one look She's got this whole club undone If she's on the rebound, you ain't gonna know it Coming off a heartbreak, she ain't gonna show it She's eyes caught, red dot, locked on me, yeah She wants my hands on her body She wants to burn like she's made of fire Said she ain't going home 'til we Drink every drop of Kentucky dry Don't even know what she'll do when she does it Palm of her hand, I'm hers in the blink of an eye She don't take no and I love She gets what she wants And I get to be what she wants tonight I get to be what she wants tonight I get to catch all her secrets Sequins bouncing off flashing lights If she wants it, then we're leaving Get me home, park the truck, cut the tires I get to be where she goes when she's lonely The last door of the night she's closing Oh, I know she could have anything, but And I don't know how I got to be The only thing she needs right now

---

To anyone who wasn’t aware, the building could have been a normal office block, the people going in and out certainly appeared to be normal office workers. A few of them were – in order to hide their organization, the first few levels of this building had been rented to businesses, but the rest of the block belonged to the Agency.

You stepped gently into the elevator and swiped your access card, pushing the elevator button for your floor you stood back against the mirrored walls and waited to ascend.  Of course, by the time you were to the floor, Joel was already busy running around gathering papers and talking loudly on phones… it was clear that you wouldn’t be here long, they would have you out the door as quick as they had you in. Joel was a little like a personal assistant. Although an ‘assassin’ in his own right he was more on the level of office worker casual, than your higher ranking. He was not your partner - although you did use him as such on occasion - and you were not his mentor, he had been taught the basics by others but that’s as far as he got. He was your go between, only top clients saw you face to face (and were always surprised that you was a woman) everyone else went through Joel, he arranged your payments and sent off your confirmation… sometimes he helped on intel, or clean up detail, but he also arranged transport and set things between your Superior and yourself. He managed to offer you a quick nod as he rushed around, which you gratefully returned… you ascended a flight of steps and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” You entered. “Y/N. Quick as ever to the call I see.” “There isn’t often a time when I cannot get here. I’d like to keep my records intact.” “And they are quite some records.” Your Superior indicated to the chair in front of him, “Please sit.” You did as was asked, crossing your legs one over the other. “…It’s a wonder to me why the Master has not called you up yet.” “Because he knows that I’m good at ground work. If you pulled me up another level then, of course, I would have jurisdiction over several assassin’s as you do, but I would only get called to field work in times of dire need… and We haven’t had a real firefight in close to 100 years. I would do better out there. Plus aren’t you all men?” you managed to crack a little smile, “I’m not indicating sexism, but…” He gave a small shrug, “They all think you’re male anyway. As we all go by codenames here.” “Yes there is that.” You nodded to the window, “Joel appears to be working hard on the next big thing already,” your eyes flicked back to your Superior, “I assume I am needed right away?” “Yes…” He handed you over a file “As you’re in the area, we thought that might take your fancy. It isn’t directly your job, but it does pay well.” You opened the file and raised an eyebrow, “Nilo? Again?!” “Several of these drug lords are untouchable. As you well know.” “Eh, they give good business, some even pay well,” you flicked the page, “these just seem to be calls for several underlings…” “Several big Russians are getting too big for their boots, too…” “So there’s a lot going on?” “I would only send my best to several jobs at once.” You took the second file from the desk, they all looked to be linked, “These guys aren’t in situ yet, are they?” “No. But we have it on good ear that they will be.” “So Nilo calls for the blood of the Russians, and some” you squinted as you read the name, “…This sounds like drug wars?” It had been a while; they weren’t exactly to your taste. Nilo was a very old client indeed – back when you were just starting out on your own. “You have connections.” “Yes. Joel is useful in that respect too… Does he know?” Joel would know the when and where and exactly what you’d need. You doubted he’d be doing so much rushing if he knew what this was really for. “You can brief him.” “Hmm. Well, it’s a good thing we focus on the numbers and not the side…” You stood, collecting the folders together, “Consider it done.” “Good. Your payment for yesterday has been wired. The man himself has been reported missing. I assume no body will turn up?” “Not on my watch. Unless someone asks for it specifically.” You waved the folders, “Expect some good news within the next few days.” “I always do with you, Y/N. Good luck.” “Thank you Sir. But I won’t need it.”

 As you exited the room and took the stairs you called to him: “Joel!” He fell in step as you hit the floor; “Can get the car out front, I’ve sent intel up to Marty, meet in 10?” “Sure, let me go see what our weapons tech has for me then… you ready?” “Sounds like there’s a war brewing.” “Drugs war. Hope you enjoy undercover.” “Me? Oh Geez…” Joel’s face told the story you expected “Well I’m not even supposed to be there am I? They don’t call me Ghost Shadow because they can see me, do they?” “It’s actuall-” “Don’t care, Joel, remember…” You looked to him with a smile, you’d never had much patience for whispered codenames, “Besides, you have the connections.” He scoffed, “Don’t rope me in with the drugs guys, Nilo’s just used me before.” “Yeah, but I want other side intel.” You tapped him in the chest with your folder, “Get it.” “Yes Sir.” “Funny.”

***

Your weapon’s technician looked as enamoured as ever to see you, his smile bright as you walked onto his floor: “Y/N!” “Marty.” “…Off already?” “One day I’m taking the first fight out to Cozumel and NOONE is going to stop me.” “If you ever get a break, considering what you do, I’m going to give you free range and let you clear out my weapons cache entirely.” “Oh? You’d do that for me?” You fluttered your eyelashes teasingly “Marty!” you tapped your card in, and opened the doors, “What do you have in?” “New? Since you were last in here?” “Don’t give me that tone! Because if there’s one thing I know, you are a collector and second, I haven’t been using this particular weapons store in my work recently, so, yes, new!” “Usually you carry your own pistol.” “Usually?” You gave him a wry smile, “Always. And I do, but everything else-” “What I like most about your pistol is its untraceable.” “Well. That’s how he made it.” “So it WAS his.” “Yes. It the least I could do to honour him.” “…Well, you are right, I do collect. I have several new rifles in, but you’re not such a fan. I also have a light weight sniper gun, and if you were ever interested in something smaller for close range-” “A pocket gun?” You chucked, “Bring it, a lot less messy than a knife.” “So they do work?” “Execution style. Yeah – anything will work if you want it to. I mean, sometimes us Assassins have to improvise; that said its always hoped things will never get that messy.” He slid the tiny gun across the table to you, “It’s not been road tested yet. But… I can think of no better person to try it out. Careful.” “Will be,” you patted it as you slid it into your top coat pocket, “and for Joel?” “What do you think he’ll need?” “You’ve read the file, you tell me! Don’t forget rope; the most useful thing you could give me.” “Kinda think a gun would be more useful.” “Rope saves lives, guns take lives. Get my meaning. Besides, how else do you expect me to ascend or descend a building?!” “Stairs!? A lift!? This is Nilo we’re talking about, it’s not exactly big budget. This isn’t Mission Impossible.” “Well it could be-!” You cracked a smile as Marty muttered under his breath, collecting everything up – he handed the bag to you, “Have a good trip. See you in a few days.” “Of course! Thanks!” *** Joel complained the whole way; it was to be expected - you were used to getting into the middle of gang and mafia warfare. Taking out politicians and heads of state. Drugs sometimes, on a higher level – but drugs carried its own problems… This, in particular, was way below your pay grade. “You’re too good for this.” “He’s fronting the right amount of money and he wants me.” “No, fact is you should have been off shit like this years back. You did some good jobs back then, but you’re above this now. And drugs?!? Y/N, you abhor drugs. It’s like your one thing.” “Look, if He sends me then I can’t push back.” “You have authority, surely?” “Well it’s a little late now. Next time I’ll think on it.” “Yeah well, you better.” His hard stare switched from you to the road. No doubt, Joel didn’t want to be mixed up in this any more than you. Perhaps it was about time you asked to politely be removed from anything related to them.

When you pulled into the parking lot he began grumbling even more. Of course Joel had most of the intel, maybe he’d need a little more research but, that’s what the first meeting was all about. Sometimes you thought he’d rather stay at HQ and feed you the info via a web link. “I mean, a strip club. Could this be any more degrading for you?!” Joel was about to launch into how the Agency should think before sending their best female agent to places like this, to stop the tirade you gave a smile and a joke instead. “As long as you’re not expecting me to get up and dance?” You nudged him, “Besides the girls all love you.” “Not interested.” Was his blunt reply, reaching into the back seat for his case. “Nothing will cheer you up today, huh?” “No. It’ll get worse.” You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so let’s get in, get it done, get out.”

*** To be honest when you’d left your card with Elias you never expected him to call it. Maybe hoped on it, but you’d been done with hoping after a few days; those had now bled into months - and you had plenty of kills under your belt since then (and a grovelled apology from Kyle Sullivan. He hadn’t called on you again since.) But your day got a little better as you wandered into the club and very nearly snorted, hiding your face and smirk behind Joel for a moment. “What?” “Remember when I told you about that little bit of trouble at Mr.Sullivan’s place?” “Yeah, I remember...” “Guess we just stumbled on where they came from.” If it had pleased you, Joel turned another shade of glum. “Brilliant.”

Indeed, though you looked pretty collected as you approached Nilo, Elias has turned sheet white. The others wouldn’t have noticed, you’d taken them all out before they saw your face. Well, maybe except the big guy but he was eyeing you with a certain level of curiosity, instead of what was going through Elias’ mind. Clearly not so happy to see you. You didn’t even spare him a proper glance, nodding to Nilo instead. “It’s been a minute.” “Indeed it has, Y/N. Welcome. We’ll certainly be glad to use your services once more…” “No use kicking around, I suggest we discuss the job.” You bowed your head gently, if only to say my pleasure - with a smirk. Because it would be your pleasure. Although, looking back to Elias you were sure that not everyone was glad. *** Elias didn’t really speak much during the briefing; you already counted too many people involved – and Joel was getting antsy. You’d just have to deal with it, you could do this alone but Nilo wanted to make sure everything was done to his letter – and therefore was sending a group along with you. You didn’t particularly understand this; did he think you were still a kid who’d only just started out? Reckless and a little dumb? You thought it was more likely the group he wanted to send were the ones who would mess everything up. Elias and Ty were amongst them. Elias, being the obvious one you knew – who did not like being under the weight of your stare – and Ty being the one you’d picked out as a potential problem back at Mr. Sullivan’s house. Elias’s brother, Noah, was also in on the meeting and a couple of guys who looked less tough than paper, who you would refuse to take when it came to your terms… but let Nilo think he’s in control, for now. Joel and yourself were now sitting at the bar of the club, him facing it with his laptop, grumbling like there was no tomorrow. And you facing the pole dancers, back against the bar. You’d never had the inclination to get up there and do that, but you were 99% sure you could; maybe one day you’d give someone a run for their money. Joel had ordered some cocktail that came with a lollipop and you wasted no time in stealing that. Your drink wasn’t alcohol, you didn’t drink on a job – Champagne was for afterwards. Joel was drinking to get himself through this one. “So?” “I can’t believe this.” “You’ve said that 20 times.” You removed the candy from your mouth, “I need, you know, something useful.” “I mean the complex itself is relatively easy to get into, you don’t even need the code, just fry everything. There’s multiple floors but there’s hardly anywhere that’s going to have cover…” He was staring hard at the schematic. “Why are we not going alone? The more bodies in a corridor the harder this is!” “Joel.” You warned. “Okay, you just need to get to the inner most point. It looks like one of those panic rooms.” You half turned to his screen as he tapped it, replacing the lolly with an agreeing hum. “Assured your guy, and whatever drugs or shit you gotta haul on back, is there.” He turned to you, looking more than a little disgruntled that he was having to do this, “I’ll make a couple of calls. It won’t be hard. And forgodsake, please do not drag this personal hell out for me.” “I’ll try.” You gave a gently sarcastic smile and he sighed. “And PLEASE stop doing that overtly sexual thing you do! Like, I don’t need it.” “It’s not for you.” “I think he’s a bad idea.” Joel eyes were back on his laptop, and you weren’t sure if his uncomfortable shift was just for show. You supposed he was only going to point back to his ‘degrading’ speech if you pressed further. “I didn’t ask you.” “No, and I can see why.” Of course you were playing a game here. You knew Elias was watching you – there wasn’t much out there you weren’t aware of. That was all part of your training. But you’d noticed that try as he might he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and you could busy yourself with being a seductress whilst also being teasing and paying him absolutely no mind. What you’d also come to the dissatisfying conclusion of was that his girlfriend was also here; oh, and she was not impressed. You didn’t really care, it was fun to play them against each other, in fact maybe it was more satisfying to have her here, realising exactly what you were doing. Because she was all over him and that was not an exaggeration, but Elias was pushing her out of the way to keep on staring at you. So, if Joel really didn’t think you were going to sit on this stool with your chest pushed out and your shirt riding up, sucking on a lollipop… well he should know better. You didn’t need to show too much skin: the idea was to let his imagination do the work. From what you could tell, Elias’ imagination was working overtime. Joel left you alone to make his series of phone calls outside, convinced that he needed air anyway. Which you’d laugh at of course, considering he’d probably kill his time outside smoking. At which point you turned back to the bar and gathered your thoughts – before you would begin to clear your head of everything but the mission. That was all that would matter for the next few days; that was all that had to matter. As you were pondering this however, you were approached by someone else, and you didn’t really have to guess who had made his way across the club to you. “Well, I see you can’t even call a number on a card, how do you expect me to think that you can pull this off?” Elias slid onto the stool next to you, tipping his head, “It’s not that simple.” You turned your eyes on him, “I get it, you have a girlfriend. Don’t tell me you’re not interested. And if you’re not, don’t come over here and talk to me, keep it strictly business.” He rummaged in his jacket pocket and your calling card was placed back on the table, “I wanted to.” You couldn’t help but smile as you stared at it, “Wanting is something you can say easily, the doing is the only thing I have use for.” Your fingers brushed his as you pushed the card back towards him, “Keep it, if you ever decide to become useful to me.” “Y/N…” The bar tender placed a drink in front of him without Elias even asking and your look away from him was enough to be an eyeroll, with the way you stared straight at the back wall. He spent enough time here for that then. He took a sip, eyeing yours. “You don’t drink?” “Not on the job no.” “Y/N, what are you doing here?” “I’m an assassin, I told you that. It’s like you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since I walked in.” “Is that any surprise?” His voice was laced with sugar, which made you a little uncomfortable as you turned to him. Those blue eyes were watching your face intently, and if you thought that a man like him was capable of melting, that might be what you’d call it. “Please, Elias. Go back to your girlfriend.” There was a pause, before he leant into your space and you sighed in obvious frustration. “Why do you need two guns?” He indicated to the one on the counter that no one was paying any mind to, and then to your hip, partially concealed by your coat. “Assassin as good as you.” “Will you do what I say, if I tell you?” His smile became a grin that was more of a smirk, “Depends what you tell me to do.” You couldn’t help but hum a laugh as you unholstered the one on your belt, “That,” you waved at the one on the counter, “that’s my own, it’s no big deal. It’s probably standard issue – due an upgrade, but it’s never let me down. Call me superstitious, but I’d quite like to keep it around. This baby…” You weighed the one in your hands up. “Belonged to my mentor.” “The one that used to spew Latin before he killed people?” You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded: he remembered. “So why do you have it?” You placed it with your own and leant into him, you became a little huddle and lowered your voice, “Because he died, Elias. It’s in honour and memory of him.” There was a moment’s pause, and Elias wondered if you’d opt to continue the conversation, “…How? I mean your line of work is dangerous but-” “The Agency killed him, made me watch.” The flicker across Elias’ face was both apologetic and a revelation; ‘that might explain a few things’ “He fell in love with a target, he couldn’t kill her. Eventually the Agency found out and executed him.”  It was weird for you to just out and say it like that, it jarred you – you weren’t sure what you were thinking, saying something so personal. You were supposed to have better instincts than that. Did you trust him? There was something cold about the way you were talking that didn’t fit with the look on your face, and Elias tipped his head – “But you’re working alone now, you have no mentee of your own?” He seemed to be asking if that process would be too painful for you. Instead you gave a shake of your head, “No. I have no patience for that. I would be no good, not yet anyway. Not all of us make it through the process – hence why Joel is my assistant and not an assassin himself. He has all the skills, he didn’t pass all the tests.” You frowned momentarily, then shrugged, “I’ll probably die doing this, or see myself old enough to take my bosses job. Though, I’ve never been much of a girl for desk work.” Elias would agree with that, “How long have you been doing this?” “…That’s… a little too much of me to expose to you.” Oh, but you liked this didn’t you? Talking to him. To someone who was actually interested in you. “I never knew my parents. The Agency has a specific way of testing kids at orphanages and such. There’s no attachment, nowhere for the kids to run. Still, they take care of you better than some children get treated by their own parents so, I guess there’s a win somewhere.” Something twinged in Elias by the look on his face, making you realise you’d touched on something that was a little too much of him to expose to you. You left it alone. “I guess you have a point there.” “Uh huh.” You couldn’t help but smirk as you looked over his shoulder, this girlfriend of his had spotted the two of you talking and the livid look on her face was only making your ego swell a little. There was no way she didn’t know he was into you, and you were invested enough in the conversation to have some attachment to him. You wondered if he’d told her about your kiss, if it was obvious to her by the way Elias looked at you. But he was still watching your face, even when you turned away, the way you were smirking and clearly enjoying yourself, “What?” He was clearly amused, he hoped it was him. “Your little girlfriend is about to blow a fuse.” Elias’ face fell instantly as he looked over his shoulder, “Oh-” “She a dancer here?” He didn’t need to nod, “You walking cliché.” You nudged him off his bar stool, “Go. Go on.” “Try not to miss me.” He shot back, hands getting a little too friendly as his touch lingered on you. Instead you scoffed, picking up your cup, “Trust me, I won’t.”

 ** You kicked around for another day and a half, longer than you would have liked, but once Joel had his intel sorted the small group you assembled had to make the plan water tight. Which means they listened to you, no questions asked. Ty was about the only one you really trusted, he was built for this and he took an interest in you for reasons you thought were kind of unhealthy; not an assassin, you could tell he was probably going to enjoy this. You never took enjoyment from killing – it was just your job. Still, Ty was quiet and nodded along. Elias didn’t. And to be honest, if you weren’t having so much fun playing him and Petal – you’d tried not to snort – off against each other, you’d be more pissed with him than you already were. “She is NOT coming on this mission!” “She always tags along.” “You’re not running this mission Elias, I AM. And there’s only one thing I have a hard stop on, and that’s drugs.” Before he could protest the irony of what you were doing you continued, “She’ll fuck the whole thing up and I know you know that. I will not take drug dependants on this mission. Or we can take her, but I’ll put a bullet in her head the second I feel I have to and I won’t hesitate.” “---You’re…. insane!” “It’s my job. I don’t fail on my tasks; your little gang of tag-alongs are not going to change that.” “Then I won’t come.” “Well don’t. Explain to Nilo why, for all I care.” Elias sighed, faltering on the fact you would give him up so fast, a little too easily for someone who wanted to labour a point, “Okay. Okay… I’ll tell her.” “You better…” He turned away but you pulled him back by his jacket, “Woah, hey. Your brother’s not coming either.” “Oh my god-” “Because he’s the opposite problem. He’s not taking his medication and he’s erratic. You think I can’t read tells?” “No, on this I might be inclined to agree you have the right idea.” “So we’re agreed, on the same page.” Elias didn’t meet your eyes as he nodded, “Yeah.” “So we’re getting somewhere.” Your arms folded, confident little smile making him give you that same melted look. Scratch all previous thoughts, Elias was easier to play than a deck of cards. You wondered how long he’d spent looking at your calling card and desperately wishing to call the number. You wondered why Elias hadn’t already. What was his real reason? He could give you as many cocky smirks and sarcastically suggestive little quips as he wanted – you could see right through him. “I thought we already were.” *** You should have bet on how much complaining Joel was going to do, by the fact that he was muttering curses in more than one language under his breath. For the first part of the journey you thought it was funny, and responded in kind. Linguistics was a nice hobby, and Joel and yourself had a healthy competition on how many you could learn. Aside from that, it was good business practice. For the second half of the journey you settled into silence, closing your eyes and taking yourself through all your focus meditation and breathing exercises – before checking and double checking your weaponry. Then triple checking it – obviously. All with Joel still grumbling on, and Elias and Ty asking each other if this was something they ought to be doing. Joel slowed the van and parked up, the complex was in view, but you were out of sight. You had split yourself into two teams: Elias and yourself, and Joel and Ty. You would clear the first few floors together – without breaking a sweat – and then they would go on look out and you’d take out the name on your rap sheet. Obviously your assistant was as impressed with this arrangement as he was with everything else – but he was on side with you, and he understood it. He could make sure there were no screw ups. Joel also had a build like Ty did, so he wasn’t about to be taken out, or by surprise, by him. You all had communication links to each other so you could keep tabs, but you wanted radio silence unless absolutely necessary. The only good thing about this was that you didn’t really have to worry about how messy you were, Nilo didn’t have a preference for making someone disappear, he just wanted the man killed. As predicted the four of you swept the first few floors silently, splitting the building nearly in half you came to the point where you’d be leaving Joel behind, turning to him you opted to continue your language game: “You know where you’re going?” “I know what I’m looking for.” “Be careful. I don’t trust them.” “The feeling is mutual.” “Yell if you need anything.” He shot Elias a look before turning to you, “I’d say the same, but I think you can handle yourself!” You chuckled, “Thanks, Joel. Until later.” And, indicated for Elias to follow you, ascended the stairs.

  ***

Everything looked very different up here, but was equally as quiet. There’d be security every so often, you were sure of that, as there had been downstairs. Perhaps more, considering your target was their boss, but nothing you didn’t think yourself capable of handling. “So, I don’t get it, is this a drugs complex, or a house!?” You turned to Elias as he stared around the walls: very domestic from the bland grey concrete you’d seen downstairs. “Both.” It wasn’t a guess; you’d seen the schematic. “A safe house?” “Round about, we’re heading for a panic room.” “You have that map stored in your head?” You kept the pistol steady as you rounded the corner, it was clear and you beckoned him on, “Is that impressive?” “Vaguely.” You chuckled, “I’ll take it.” You suddenly pulled back, slamming Elias against the wall as a bullet streaked passed you, “Shit!” You weren’t worried about that, immediate with your retaliation fire. You were trained for this, it was instinct. There was more than one of them and you had to bring them down quick less they raise the alarm, you had no time to think about cover: about the only thing Elias did think of. “They’ll have heard bullets, I gotta go.” You turned back to him, “Your choice, go back to them or try to keep up!” Trying to keep up was much easier said than done, and you had sprinted out of sight by the time Elias had run around the next corner. “Ah, shit.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Well, I’ve followed her this far!” You must have been quick, because Elias made it another couple of floors up before he found any signs that you might have had difficulty, what worried him was that it was your mentors’ gun that was lying on the ground – so out of the way it’d probably been kicked or thrown there. Carelessly; you hadn’t just decided to drop it. You certainly would have retrieved it.  Whoever your mentor had been, however you tried to hide it, Elias knew he’d meant a lot to you. Picking it up, the still loaded chamber and half empty magazine told a worse story to him. What the hell had happened to you?! Surely they hadn’t overpowered you? Not you! *** Elias almost started to believe it as he continued walking, as suddenly there wasn’t a body, or blood or an empty casing anywhere in sight. Everything was still quiet. Not a sound, not even on the radio. He arrived on the next floor, and again everything was clear. It occurred to him to call the other two for help very nearly a little too late, as, more concerned with finding out where you were, Elias rounded the next corner without his pistol up. In fact, without a pistol at all, and he was faced with yours. “You’re lucky that I check what I’m shooting at before I pull a trigger, Elias! Geez!” You flicked the safety on. “ME!? You just gave me a heart attack! Where the hell did you go!?” You shuffled on the spot with a little shrug, “Look, just, don’t go upstairs into the office, okay?” “Office…? What? I thought you said he had a panic room.” “He absolutely had a panic room – he wasn’t in it. It was not the cleanest kill I’ve ever made and…” You paused staring up at the ceiling, “At least it’s done.” He followed your eyeline and grimaced, leaking through the ceiling already was a patch of blood, “That’s a lot of bodies or it’s a terribly built house-!” “Bit of both…” You looked to him, “Hardly matters right now, don’t you think?” “Who the hell are you, Y/N?” Your head tipped, regarding him seriously in the eschewing silence to his question. “You really want to know that?” He nodded firmly, “Yes.” Elias wasn’t sure he liked the smile you gave back, the way it made the heart leap in his chest, and a shudder run up his spine. You grabbed him, shoving him up against a wall this time not to protect him – far from it. Your lips on his were rough, this wasn’t love…  you weren’t even sure you could call it chemistry. But it was something. Elias pulled your body into his, your fingers running into his hair, he groaned into the kiss as you raked your nails across his scalp. But you continued to push his body as you made him breathless. Oh… shit. Elias could barely think properly as he ran his hands under your coat and over your ass, pulling your shirt with him, the feel of your supple skin under his calloused hands drove him crazy. Until he found himself backed up against a door, breaking the kiss in confusion. “Maybe you should try it.” You encouraged, voice at a whisper as you brought his lips back to yours, Elias wasn’t going to say no, and it swung open behind his push. This time when he broke the kiss it was only to smirk. “Oh? A bedroom?” “Uh huh.” He turned back to you, eyes raking your body as they had done before, but now significantly more hungry. You pushed a finger to his lips before he started getting clever: “…Stop talking… stop thinking… don’t make me wait any longer.” Replacing your finger with your lips, Elias pulled back to nod, “Okay.” He pulled you into his arms, relieving you of your coat immediately. It was almost like no time had passed at all, he tasted the same as you remembered, whisky and cigarette smoke. Elias pulled you closer, certainly not eager to break the kiss or let you go for even a moment. You pulled off his leather jacket, throwing it with your own; you revelled in the way that you were both so different, but you wanted the same thing so badly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He gave you a small smirk. You let the look on your face answer for you, to which Elias grinned, hands under your shirt he pulled it over your head, allowing you to relieve him of his own. His fingers ghosted over your skin, and he paused momentarily: every so often there was a litter of scars. You weren’t about to count the number of times you’d been in real trouble, but you always got out of it. You simply chuckled, “Yeah, no dancing on a stage in just my bra and panties for me.” “That’s not why I’m here.” You’d agree with that, kissing him gently again, your fingers grazed over his chest and Elias tensed; “What? Scared?” You smirked against his lips. “A little. It’s not like I don’t know what you’re capable of.” “I don’t sleep with my targets.” You kissed him again, winking as you undid his belt, dragging him back to your lips with his belt loops; this time he bit your lip gently, making you groan against his kiss. Elias picked you up, undoing your pants and bra clasp, pushing you down onto the bed he nipped down your jawline and neck. You pulled him back, reciprocating Elias’ trail of kisses, whispering prayers into his skin in nearly every language you knew. He slid your pants down your legs with a sigh, and he shook under your touch. You were too much for him already, but you weren’t about to show Elias mercy. You smirked wickedly, claiming his lips with your own once more. This man was about to be all yours… *** All of you were clearly sworn to silence. Elias was the more dazed of the three of you (Ty seemed none the wiser), and Joel kept throwing you dirty and disgusted looks. You couldn’t care less. You’d done your job, you were entitled to a little fun every once in a while, your assistant didn’t have to be a killjoy. Overall though, you were disappointed in yourself, somewhere along the way – probably when you were dealing with everyone who was actually occupying the panic room – you’d lost your most important possession. You weren’t about to admit that out loud, but you hadn’t been able to find it as you had made your way back downstairs. You vowed you’d get it back, but you’d rather go back with Joel and do a real sweep without the other two around. There was too much going on here – and it was obvious Joel wanted out and away from here as soon as possible. That was fine with you. You dropped Elias and Ty back at the bar, and you were wondering if this time it might really be it. Were you both satisfied now? It scared you that you might not be sure of the answer to that. Joel went to deliver the news and package, and Ty wasn’t one to kick around, leaving you and Elias outside. “Well, now you can get back to that girlfriend of yours.” “Is that really any way to say goodbye?” “I don’t want to get emotionally involved here.” Though your eyes strayed from his face a little too much for Elias to want to believe that. “Does that make everything easier for you?” “Yeah.” You folded your arms, no point in skirting around that. Elias for once looked like he was seeing right through you, “Except there’s one thing that makes you show your cards.” “What?” You narrowed your eyes at him, how dare he stand here acting like he had you all figured out. Elias rummaged in his jacket, and you nearly gasped as he presented you with your mentor’s pistol. “He must have been one hell of a guy.” “He… was.” You took it from him delicately, “You found it.” “It’s important. Right?” “…Thank you.” And there was emotion behind that, you both knew it. “You’re welcome.” Although his hand took yours, thumb running over that tattoo on your wrist, and down to your fingers, Elias was so close to entwining them. He thought better of it, instead twisting the ring so that ‘Veritas’ very clearly faced him – you just about admit to yourself you were disappointed. “My offer is still on the table, you know?” You gave a small smile, “If you ever want to be useful, you have my number.” He chuckled, “Well. I’ll… think on it.” Then added, with a smile, “That’s the truth.” “Don’t think.” You took a step back as Joel called you, walking briskly back to the car. Yes, he certainly wanted out. “I told you, the only thing worth it, is the doing!” ** Amazingly Joel did not go ballistic at you – you thought he was just glad to be out. On top of that he knew you’d seen the looks he was shooting you, and you supposed he thought that said it all. To be honest it probably did, and you would both vow silently to never talk about this again. You pulled your pistol apart to check it, as you always did and, satisfied, you pulled your mentor’s apart too. Pausing as you checked the magazine, sitting in the top was a rolled-up piece of paper. You smiled to yourself, only guessing what it said. You pieced the pistol back together and unravelled it. He’d watched you do this on the journey, so Elias could be certain that you’d check your gun pretty soon after he’d returned it. Spera - Trust. ‘Someone is a show off’. You almost laughed as you read the number before rolling it up again and pocketing it. Truth and Trust seemed almost ironic. And yet also seemed to be completely fitting. You made sure to be safely home, to ensure that Joel wasn’t physically ill. And also to wait a few days, to keep Elias hanging. Which he was, because that man wasn’t like you. You could wait on him to call like it was no big deal – but he would be checking that mobile of his every ten minutes at the very least. Predictably he picked up on the second ring: “Y/N?” “Hey, babe.” You would be directly flirty, you’d tell Elias what he wanted to hear, “I see my number must be saved in that phone of yours, you just never pressed the call button. See, even a busy girl like me can action something.” “I… I’m just glad you did.” You left a significant pause, enough to make him uncomfortable, “Are you asking me to trust you?” “The truth is important to you, isn’t it? Don’t you trust me?” Your voice became quiet, all too aware of the vulnerability of admittance: “I do. It scares me that I do.” You sighed, “But that hardly matters. I told you I like action. So, if I don’t want you to call me unless it’s for you to be useful, I figured that my calling you was only ever about offering you the opportunity to be so…” “How?” Elias’ voice was eager, you could almost see his nails digging into the bar, the tension running through him, a slight dark tint to those blue eyes of his. “You ever been to Boston?” “…No?” “Well, if you get yourself on a flight over… I can give you an address.” “You live in Boston?” “You asked me to trust you.” “I did.” There was relief and understanding in that sentence. “When?” “Whenever you want, babe. I’ll let you know if I get called anywhere though, wouldn’t want you to waste a trip.” “Considerate of you.” “Well, like for like.” You smiled, “Just one more small favour, Elias. An… assurance. Perhaps an insurance policy. Before you do come all the way out to me.” “What’s that?” Really what he was saying was anything. I’ll do anything. “I told you that my mentor died because he fell in love with a target…” “You did.” Then he quickly added, “I won’t… tell anyone!” You shook your head, Elias was jumping ahead of himself. As were you. But you weren’t sure where this was going, and yet you had to be certain. It wasn’t that you thought you were about to fall in love. You might, it wasn’t beyond you. It was that if you were asked to kill him… you weren’t your mentor. You weren’t scared that you’d be unable to pull the trigger, you were scared of the knowledge that you could. “Yes, well. Just don’t do anything to piss anyone off, okay?”

---

Thank you for reading! 😁💙

[apollo-writes-random-shit]

The Final Heist

Final part fam!

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 2,894

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (You’re here fam!)

She should have known something was up when Gavin kept staring at the jewels room.

Ignoring all the chaos in the dining hall, curtains parted a familiar face standing in front of the microphone in front of the small band. At first, her face fell as she saw everything going on, spotting a server being chased and tracked by the police. She should have known something was up when Gavin kept staring at the jewels room. In her mind, Gavin never suited the young man. Shaking her head, she opened her mouth and began to sing a favourite of the patrons.

Sometimes when I, wanna run away and hide.

Race grinned, hearing the soft cry of frustration as Sean lost him. He was sure anyone else would slow down to blend in more. After all, the cops were looking for someone who was running away but Race? He was smarter. Sure at the start, he'd been too cocky, letting himself slow down and blend in. He however quickly learnt that it was a bad move from both the police and Snyder.

When there's no one on my side, and all my pride had disappeared.

His experience as a thief had taught him a lot of skills, both good and bad. To others, being a thief was despicable in situations like his but honestly, he really didn't care. He loved the rush that came with his job. Yes, there were times where everything felt like it was crashing down and that he should run from the job but those moments were rare. At least that's what he liked to tell himself.

I take it off my mind and leave it all behind.

Race shook his thoughts from his mind as he spotted more of Sean's crew leaving. No doubt they were not just leaving the building to answer questions. They were also there to look out for him retreating with his prize. A smirk painted his face as he turned skidded towards a window, barely dodging Sean's hand, letting out a laugh as his fingers brushed against his jacket.

It was only then that Sean noticed where he was heading and he doubted the detective would try to follow him.

Nothin' left to do but try to take the leap and follow-through.

It wasn't the first he had jumped out of a window and he knew there was a chance that he might have to do it again. No matter the number of times he had to use a pane of glass to make his escape, he still wasn't used to the feeling of it shattering around his body.

And that's exactly what I'll do~

Had he meant to land on Sean's head? No. Did he? Yes. Was he going to apologize? Probably not. He certainly wasn't going to stick around. He had an important delivery, after all, one he could not afford to fuck up.

I know to you I don't seem very strong but I assure you before you can find me I'm gone.

Sean grunted as he stood up, already nursing a killing headache. He honestly didn't care that he had blacked out for a few seconds. Instead, he was more focused on catching up to the infamous thief. He'd yell at the person who had fired two warning shots later. In the chaos of attempted capture, no one noticed two men slipping away.

So come on and catch me you've still got a chance...But not for long~

His heart fell slightly as he stood in the door of the casino. There were multiple ways Racetrack could escape...Too many. "Same teams as last time! Remember his tricks and do your best to block off any place you believe he can use as an escape!"

He took off, hearing his trusted colleague and friends fan-out to look for their target. They all knew there was a high chance he could escape like always but they hoped that tonight would be the night. They were all sick of this game of cat and mouse but mostly, they were sick of Sean's obsession with the elusive thief. Sure they all wanted the cocky bastard behind bars but at times, they felt like that goal ruled Sean's life.

I'll be rollin' place to place, won't stop till I win the race!

Even Sean himself could admit that he wanted nothing more than to catch Racetrack and lock him away before moving on to other cases though he doubted he'd find any as interesting as the current case.

Although I may have crossed the line.

He knew he'd win eventually. Race may be the fastest person he has ever seen but even he had to slow down and finish at some point.

No time to waste on you.

Race hummed as he skated along, holding back laughter, hearing his competition ask questions to random patrons. Humming softly under his breath, he calmly hit a slot machine. After all, even grandmas needed a big win sometimes.

Idly, he pulled out the diamond, inspecting it for a few seconds. However, the second his back hit another one, he instantly regretted his action, watching with horror as it flew across the room.

I don't plan on slowing down, no I'll keep on going even if you think I'm in the wrong

He swallowed, ignoring the offended cry from behind him as he crossed the room, clumsily launching himself onto the pool table. "Come on you piece of shit." He bit his lip, holding back a cry of frustration as it slipped through his fingers yet again.

Just know that, although I may not think everything though I don't take back what I say or regret what I do.

He found himself unable to hold back a small cry of triumph as he caught it, even though he had hit the ground face first.

Race clambered to his feet, wincing slightly as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He sighed softly, shoving it back into it's hiding place before staring at the man in front of him, giving him a weak grin. "Well hey, Jackie boy. If you don't mind, I'ma just...Leave? Have a good night Sir!" Was he surprised at a hand tightly grabbing his collar? No. Was he surprised to be shoved into the wall? Also no.

He tuned out the normal Miranda rights speech all police gave, paying more attention to the light wind ruffling his hair. Yeah, he knew he had the right to stay silent or whatever but where was the fun in that? "Look. I get this is ya job and shit but eh. I don't have time for this." With a grin, he grabbed the curtain, using it as a cover as he jumped out of the window, ignoring the curses coming from behind him.

I know that some stay in line and they stick to the plan, but if you leave it to me I'll do whatever I can 'cause I know that's what I'm here for.

He was grateful for the short distance between the window and ledge. Knowing that the small team would have alerted the others to his trick, he took off running. He may be stupid at times but no way was he going to use his skates on such a narrow landing. The thief silently praised himself on his quick thinking as he found himself almost tumbling off the edge. A sharp turn later and he found himself jumping from letter to letter, thanking Pulizer for having such a large sign.

In the split second he took to come to a stop so he could catch his breath, his ears were filled with both an annoying and familiar tune. The whirring of helicopter blades and a voice coming from behind the blinding light. "Hand yourself in Racetrack! It's over."

A smirk overtook his face. "Can't hand myself over to you when I can't see you!"

"Oh for god's sake. Turn the light down Wiesel!" With a groan, Sean turned back to the smug thief. "There. Happy Mr Drama Queen? Now just hand yourself and the diamond over. It's not that hard."

"Not very professional are you Spot?" Race always liked the way he could annoy his rival with a few words.

I don't wanna wait around anymore, even if you can't see.

He pulled the diamond out of his jacket, flashing the annoyed detective an innocent look. "Do you mean this diamond?" A laugh escaped him as he stared at Sean's blank look. "Alright alright. Here." He hummed, holding it out. Sure this wasn't part of the original plan but he was used to thinking on his feet.

The good inside me...

The second Sean's hand touched the top of his stolen good, he slapped his hand over it, laughing yet again as he used his arm to swing across the gap between The World casino and the building next door. "Thanks for the hand Spot!"

The frustrated swear from his opponent was music to his ears. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light in the alleyway. He took a few moments to pull out a stashed briefcase, yet another step to the conclusion of his final plan.

A smirk graced his face as he jumped down, unable to hold back a chuckle as the two figures waiting for him. "Hello, boys~"

The smirk just widened as the pair spun around, posed for a fight. "So. Shall we get going?"

"First things first. Hand over the briefcase kid. We gotta check you have what you promised."

"Awwwww. Don't you trust me, Morris? I have the briefcase right here so naturally, I have what I promised."

Oscar huffed. "How do we know it's not empty? Open it and show us or we'll hand you over~"

"Oh, I don't think you will."

"Why not?"

The two brothers tensed as the thief pulled out a gun, grin wiped from his face, replaced with a schooled blank expression, his posture bored. "Listen here, boys. I'm not really in the mood to play around tonight. This job is important and all you have to do is drive me to the bridge. Remember, your dear ol' uncle is in tremendous debt and just because the boss is behind bars doesn't mean it's completely automatically cleared...Now. Get in the car and start driving." Race flicked the gun towards the car watching smugly as the two scrambled to get into the ute that was going to be used as his getaway vehicle.

They didn't need to know that the weapon was empty. He never liked the idea of spilling blood. The idea of snatching someone's life from them sickened him but he knew he didn't have a say in it. Sure he was Snyder's prized thief but he had morals. He wasn't like the other members of the gang. To him, human life meant something, no matter who's life it was. Yes, he had been told to get away and if needed, to kill his enemy but Race was never going to have blood on his hands. He would rather die himself instead of ruining the lives of people's loved ones. As far as he knew, he had never landed anyone in hospital and he always made sure it'd stay that way, even if it meant being yelled at by his boss.

I don't have the time to tell you why I do the things that I do.

The ride was silent, allowing Race to take a breather as he removed the wig he had been wearing all night. As fun as it was to 'dress-up' as Snyder used to call it, he found it better when he was allowed to be 'natural'. He allowed the wind to mess with his hair as he removed his contacts, putting them away happily. He wasn't the biggest fan of them, no matter how helpful they were...Mostly because he still poked himself in the eye a lot when he was putting them in and taking them out like an utter moron.

He smiled softly at the diamond in his hand. Soon this would all be over and he could relax in the first time in years. Sure he'd miss the rush he got from outsmarting the police but it would still be better than scanning the streets each time he decided to take a walk.

Before he knew it, the Brooklyn bridge was rolling under the wheels of his transport and with a soft smile, he tucked the diamond away, knocking softly on the window. "This is my stop boys! Money's in the back so keep driving until you get a chance to see it." The wanted man carefully jumped out from the ute tray, allowing himself to just roll as he stared at the view offered to him, ignoring as the car turned around to return to The World. He grinned to himself, wishing he could see the looks on the Delancey brothers' faces as they opened their 'payment'. After all, it had taken him a while to get enough Monopoly cash to fill the briefcase.

Just please hold on and soon you'll see that I'm not the villain I appear to be.

Shaking his head, he hummed to himself as he stared off at the police blockade in front of him, an annoyed police force staring at him. No one seemed more pissed-off than Sean 'Spot' Colon. The sight of everything just filled Race with joy. Now came the fun part.

Diamond clutched in hand, Race did what he did best and sped towards them, keeping an eye on each person in front of him, trying to guess the move they'd make before it even entered their mind.

Movin' along, no I won't settle down until I'm locked behind bars or I'm kicked outta town!

He managed to hold back a gasp as Sean attempted to hit him with his baton at his head before attempting to grab him. (Honestly who aimed for the head? What was he trying to do? Hit him in the temple and kill him?) While he was able to hold back the gasp, he couldn't stop the soft squeak escaping his lips as a bullet grazed his cheek. Like he gets it. They had to arrest him and if that involved shooting at him to force him off balance then they could do it. Still, being shot at was never a fun feeling.

"Jeez, Jojo. You'd think you'd know not to shoot at me by now but apparently not."

So you can keep on a runnin' around and around and around.

He winked at the flustered man as he stuttered out an apology before pausing. "Wait...Why the hell am I apologizing to you?"

"Because I'm just amazing like that~"

With a hum, he skidded to a stop by the railing, holding the diamond over the edge, watching as Sean threw his arms out. "Alright Race. Just hand the diamond over and hand yourself in."

"Dunno guys. That doesn't sound like fun but I guess I can be nice."

But you will never quite catch up to me!

He saw the way some of their eyes lit up in satisfaction but he saw the suspicion in Sean's eyes. With a hum, Race tossed the diamond over to his rival before launching himself over the group, laughing at the confused noises of the group. How none of them noticed him removing the top of the diamond right in front of him, he had no idea.

And I know you think I'm crazy.

Using their brief confusion, he pushed himself on, ignoring the footsteps chasing him, the calls for him to stop falling on deaf ears. Tucking away the real stolen good, Race jumped towards the gently swaying rope, allowing it to wrap around his wrist.

"See you around!" He blew a kiss to the frustrated group before pulling himself further up the rope, grinning as he popped his head into the helicopter's open door. "Money's with ya nephews Weasel~ See you around!"

He allowed himself to jump down onto the support beam, wincing ever so slightly at the feeling of cold steel against his body, his uniform doing little to protect him.

But I hope that maybe now you'll see why...

He took a deep breath and jumped to his feet. Pulling the small ball out of his pocket, he threw it into the air as hard, praying that his throw would be strong enough. He was a runner after all and rarely had to throw things in his job.

His eyes lit up with both joy and relief as the bomb exploded far in the sky, decorating the sky with a firework. Even the feeling of being shoved roughly to the platform couldn't take the relief away. He couldn't be bothered to question how they had even gotten up to the platform.

"You're under arrest Racetrack. You have the ri-"

Race chuckled, cutting Sean off. "To stay silent. I get it. It's been three years Colon. I'd say it's been long enough for us to be friends ya know? Besides, I think you just got rid of the fella known as Racetrack~ Can we move this along? It's cold out."

"You're being arrested...And your complaining about the temperature?"

"Looks like your ears work DaSilva! Anyway, I guess I should congratulate you all for this huh?"

"God, you're annoying."

All Sean and his team got as a reply was tired joyful laughter.

I had to try!