#lab rats fic

[panwithastupidplan]

what’s good bros, I have finally completed chapter two!

it’s definitely been done but there were some edits I wanted to finish :)

[lucy-frostblades]

me when i apparently just Didn't post some of my lrmmef stuff?????

if i did tumblr search engine is killing me anyways have a silly goofy twitter fic <3

pairings: davenport siblings, leo/janelle qpr

word count: 4,469

rated: t for swearing

warnings: mild description of violence, canon typical child neglect, mentions of abuse (nothing big, just canon stuff)

taglist (ik my friends have already seen this but theyre gonna see it again!!!!) @thedragonemperess @blueskiesandstarrynights @depressedtransguy @yeehawthethird @lab-trash @tronagon @disdoorted-crows @starstruckodysseys @wheelsupin-azarathmetrionzinthos

[texanmarcusdavenport]

Marcus stans come get yall juice!

At 6:30 AM on a Friday morning, Donald Davenport got a call.

��

"You're listed as his next-of-kin," she continued, "And therefore the de facto guardian of his son, Marcus Davenport."

Donald choked on a mixture of air, spit, and toast.

(Or: AU where Marcus was sent to spy on the Davenport family as their adopted son. Things don't go as Planned.)

[cecilyv]

@liminalmemories21 and I wrote a little 8.15 - Lab Rats coda, buck/tommy.

Tommy hears Evan say, "Dad?" and just for a second he thinks that somehow, against all odds, it's Bobby standing there. He stands up so fast the chair tips over as he goes for the door. 

The bubble of hope pops abruptly when Evan says, "What are you doing here?"

"Your sister called,” a voice he doesn't recognize says.

And well, fuck. There's just no way this ends well. 

He rights the chair, squeezing the top slat, letting the wood bite into his hands. Evan was barely holding it together as it was, only really doing so by the skin of his teeth, by being the force of nature that he can be – focusing on his team, his family -- not on himself, or on. Or on Bobby. He asked me to, Evan told him through a sob, after, even as Tommy could see him try to push down the loss, to keep it off his face. Bobby did know his boy – worked best when given a direct plan of action. 

Tommy scrunches his nose against the tears that threaten to fall again, to clog his throat. Wipes away the one that escapes and squares his shoulders to face whatever the fuck is happening in the doorway. 

Wonders what on god's green earth Maddie had been thinking. Although, to be fair, he's going to go out on a limb and assume she didn't think their parents would get on a plane and fly to California to land just in time for the funeral. 

Texts Chim / 🚨Phillip and Margaret are here🚨/

Gets a string of texts in response judging by the way his phone is buzzing in his back pocket, and he can't look at any of them because Evan and his parents have come around the corner and Even is saying awkwardly, "Mom, Dad, you remember Tommy." And then when neither one of them says anything, even more awkwardly, "You met him at Maddie's wedding."

Philip shakes his hand reluctantly, good WASP manners too ingrained to be actively rude enough not to.

Margaret looks at Evan. "I didn't realize you had company. Your sister didn't say."

Evan shrugs, doesn't answer. Doesn't explain.

Which, actually, Tommy wouldn't have minded a little bit of explanation, just so that he knows where he stands. Because he'd taken Evan home after the lab, after Bobby died. Nobody had questioned it. He hasn't left since. Evan hasn't asked him to, and he hasn't offered. Eddie's flight is due to land in an hour. He's not sure what happens after that. Although if Phillip and Margaret are here – for what? – having Eddie as back up might be for the best. That’s a devil he knows. 

Tommy blinks and Evan is making coffee, and handing his mother a slice of coffee cake on a plate with a napkin - because given an awkward social situation, Evan, he learned the last time they tried this, will default to the polite rules of society to get through it. He doesn’t wonder where the coffee cake came from, because he'd discovered when he snooped around for breakfast ingredients that ill-fated morning that the only thing in Evan’s freezer is baked goods. 

He takes the moment to check his texts, discovers that if Maddie had known their parents might show up that she hadn't told Chim. His / 😱 ‼️ / makes Tommy snort.

He checks to see if anyone needs him for anything, and then texts Eddie. As far as he knows Eddie's still pissed at him for breaking up with Evan, doesn't know if Evan told him about the hook up the other week, or the way that he'd said he was jealous of Eddie, can't imagine that's improved Eddie's opinion of him if he did. But – man deserves to be warned about the clusterfuck he's about to walk into.

/ Phillip and Margaret are here /

gets / 👀/ from Eddie, and then / why? / and then / like this day could get any fucking worse / 

He’d only met them the once, in passing, nearly a year ago now, but he’s heard about them plenty - from Chim, from Eddie, and haltingly from Evan.  He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the full story of whatever it is, but he knows enough to know that adding them to the mix is not going to help Evan get through this day.  He’d never really worried about it before, because he’d met Athena, Bobby – the important people.

He comes back into the kitchen to hear Evan saying, “You should go to Maddie’s, I’m sure she needs the help.”

And Evan’s mother waves a hand, saying, “We talked to her yesterday, she’s fine.” And then leaning in to put a hand on Evan’s arm, and he can see from across the room how surprised Evan is by that, and how much he doesn’t know what to do with it. Adds another mental note to the list of things he knows about the Buckley parents.

Thinks Margaret kind of missed Evan’s point.  Maddie may be fine, but Chim’s not.  Might be nice if her mother volunteered to give Maddie some extra space to support her husband, since she flew all the way here.  He’s still not sure why the Buckley parents are here.

They don’t really have time to dig into it; they have a funeral to get to. 

****************  

The funeral is awful.  Everyone in their dress uniforms. The pomp. The circumstance. The weight of the loss literally on their shoulders. Staring at the back of Chim’s head, having to put one foot in front of the other, maintaining composure when all he wants is to hold Evan and shield him from everyone and everything. Instead, on a city street -- a funeral march. Step. Step. Step. 

The only time he and Evan have been in sync since they split six months ago and it’s to bear the burden of the first man to ever really give them a shot. To believe in them.  

The brass gives a speech. Athena had asked Evan if he wanted to speak, and he’d shaken his head. “I can’t.”

He agrees.  Has a fierce need to let Evan keep his grief private, not for public consumption.

After the funeral he hears Evan say, "We're going to Bobby and Athena's," and his heart fucking breaks at the way Evan's voice cracks halfway through Bobby's name. But then he's continuing, "for the wake." He hesitates. "Do you want me to call you an uber, or something?"

"Oh," Margaret says, and she sounds clearly surprised. "We thought we'd go with you."

It startles Evan into honesty. "Why?"

"To pay our respects. He was your captain. I know he meant a lot to you." Which is nice, until she adds, "That's what people do, Evan."

The way she says his name grates on Tommy's last nerve. He wants to say, 'no, people don't fly across the country to crash a funeral.  People write a nice card.  People know when to stay in their lane'.  Almost says it, when Evan looks at him.  But, whatever is going on between them, shutting Evan’s parents down probably isn’t his place. Is tempted to look around for Eddie, who might be able to get away with it.

Margaret looks torn, and Maddie – bless her – says, "I'm sure Jee’d like a last bit of one-on-one time with her grandma before the new baby comes."

"I thought Mrs. Lee was watching Jee this afternoon," Margaret says, proving that she is in fact totally incapable of reading a room. Even Phillip looks a little abashed.

He loses track of Philip and Margaret for a while at the wake.  More people than he expected come up to offer him their condolences, like he has a right to grieve Bobby as much as Eddie, and Hen, and Chim, and Evan.

Finds them again when he hears Margaret asking Evan if he’s ready to leave.  Like she expects her claim on his time to supercede anything else.  LIke Bobby’s fucking funeral.

Turns in time to catch Evan’s absolutely blank look.  “I’m staying.”

Margaret looks taken aback.  “Oh, well, should we meet you for dinner somewhere?”

Evan shakes his head, looks impatient for the first time.  “No.”  For a second Tommy thinks he’s going to leave it at that, and wants to applaud, but Evan seems to realize how blunt that is, or maybe the look of disapproval on Philip’s face clues him in.  Either way he says, “I’m going to stay, help clean up after everyone leaves.”

Margaret’s face tightens, and he wants to shake her, ask what she thought was going to happen here.  They’d flown out for the funeral, so on some level they understand how important Bobby had been to Evan.  Just not apparently on any kind of level that lets them empathize with his grief.  

He doesn’t know where they go, but he does see Margaret and Phillip leave, stopping to talk to Athena before they do.  Has no idea what they say to her, but she looks faintly surprised by it.

Margaret and Phillip are at Evan’s new house, Eddie’s old house, when they finally all get home.  They’ve made dinner.  Like any of them have an appetite, like they hadn’t just put away a semi-truck load of leftovers from the wake -- everyone tries to feed grief, like if you fill up on food, the sadness won’t have anywhere to go. 

Reins it in.  They made dinner.  That was kind of them.  One less thing for Evan and Eddie to have to think about.  He eyes the casserole that Margeret puts on the table.  It’s bland, but inoffensive.  Suspects that Evan could make it better.  Catches Eddie’s eye and has to stifle a snort when it is very clear that Eddie is thinking the same thing.  Whatever grievances Eddie has with him – and Tommy’s prepared to admit they’re mostly merited – they’re on hold for however long Evan’s parents are here.

Dinner conversation starts with polite anodyne conversation about the funeral, how big the turnout was, how nice everyone was at the wake.

It moves on to Phillip saying, “The house is – different.  We didn’t know you’d moved.”

Evan picks at his food and just says, “It wasn’t that long ago.”

Eddie takes the fall.  “I moved back to Texas.  Evan took over my lease.”

Philip nods.  “Maddie hadn’t mentioned that.”  

That brings Evan’s head up a little, “Oh, um, yeah.”  Then he frowns a little.  “Why would she?”

Margaret gives a brittle laugh.  “Well, it’s not as if you tell us anything.  If we didn’t talk to Maddie we wouldn’t know anything at all about your life.”

Tommy bites back the urge to suggest that maybe there’s something they could infer from that.

Margaret looks at where Evan’s plate is still more than half full.  “You’re not eating.” Evan looks at his plate.  “Sorry.  I’m not very hungry.”

Margaret’s lips purse, and he silently dares her to say something.  She doesn’t.  Looks around the living room instead.  “I like this.  It’s much more grown up than your old apartment.”

Tommy winces and concentrates on his food.

Evan’s eyes flick around.  “Yeah.  I guess.”

Her lips purse again.  “Evan, we’re trying.”

Evan looks blank.  Eddie sends Tommy an alarmed look and mouths ‘oh shit’ at him.

Philip clears his throat.  “We came all this way. Your mother made you dinner.  I know you don’t call.  But, is it too much to ask that you talk to us when we’re here?”

“I didn’t ask you to come,” Evan mutters.  And Tommy would bet a lot that he doesn’t realize he’d said that out loud, knows from experience that when you back Evan into a corner he lashes out. Wonders how on earth Evan’s parents don’t seem to know this.

Margaret’s face is a perfect picture of frozen devastation, and he’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t making Evan’s loss all about her.  Wasn’t making a bad day exponentially worse.

There’s a knock on the door, and they all look around — doesn’t know who it could be, they’re all here. 

Evan gets up to answer it, Tommy sips his wine to have something to do with his hands. Eddie twirls his fork mindlessly in the mess of noodles on this plate. 

“May?” He hears and then, “are you okay? Is Athena— I can grab my coat—“ 

“No, no, we’re—“ something garbled, and then “not fine but –” A pause and then “I talked to Mom and we wanted you to have this.”  There’s the sound of Evan taking a stumbling step back into the wall.

“I can’t, May, that’s for family, that’s for Athena — for you, for—“ and Tommy can’t bear to hear his voice breaking, cracking, gets up and leans into the hallway to see Evan clutching a flag. 

Bobby’s flag. 

“It is for family,” May’s voice is steady, despite the tears running down her face. “Mom said she had their house. His medals. She had what she needed and she wanted you—“ May gulps. “He would have wanted his son to have this.” 

Behind him, Tommy hears two chairs being pushed back and whips around.  

“You need to go,” he hears himself saying before he even realizes he’s going to. He hadn’t said anything earlier, wasn’t sure if it was his place, but he wants to try and preempt whatever they’re going to say now.  

“Evan,” Margaret says, warning and entreaty, looking over Tommy’s shoulder. He feels Evan behind him, turns slightly and can see May standing awkwardly, shifting her feet like she’s not sure she should be seeing this. He understands; isn’t sure he wants to witness this either.

Evan just shakes his head. “Tommy’s right.”

Phillip stands up, arm around his wife’s waist, staring at Tommy.  “He’s here.  He’s not family.  Maddie said you broke up.”  Pauses and then digs the knife in. “She said he broke up with you. That you were devastated.”

And Evan looks at him like it's the first time he's really registered that Tommy's still there, that he hasn't left. And Tommy holds his breath, waiting to see what Evan will say, if he'll finally ask him to leave. 

Instead he says, "He's here because he always shows up when I need him, and because he's willing to keep trying even when we both fuck it up." 

The ‘unlike you’ goes unsaid. But, Tommy's pretty sure people from three counties over heard it loud and clear.

Evan’s on a roll now, all the things he’s been holding back all day coming out now that the dam’s been broken.  “He tried to save Bobby twice, risked his life for Bobby.  Risked jail for him.  And you?  You didn’t even — “ he chokes up.

“Funerals are for everyone else. Wakes are for family,” May says unexpectedly.  “Evan was Bobby’s son.  He gets to decide whoever else he wants to have here.”   She holds Evan’s gaze when he looks at her, and after a moment he nods.  Reaches out for Tommy’s hand, holding it hard.

“I buried my-, my father today. I’d like you to leave.”  Margaret and Phillip are frozen by the dining room table.  Evan unbends enough to say. “I’ll call you before you fly home.”

May looks cooly at Margaret and Phillip, every inch Athena’s daughter. “I have an uber outside, we can drop you wherever.” 

Later, in bed, he’s curled around Evan. “He was supposed to be here,” barely aloud, just a whisper of a breath. “He was going to stand up for me, tie my tie and—“ Evan’s voice breaks and he lets out a single, wracking sob, his back shaking.

“He taught you,” he says to Evan, to himself. “He taught you what you need to know. To do. To be who you are.”

“I never told him,” Evan chokes out, “that I loved him, that he was my—“

“He knew,” Tommy whispers into his shoulder blades. “He knew.”

“He told me he didn’t have to worry.” Evan rolls over and pins him with a stare, the light of the moon just reflecting off the white of his eyes. “That you were good people.  Don’t make him a liar.” Tommy swallows hard, holds his gaze as much as he wants to look down, away, anywhere but at Evan, tear-stained cheeks shimmering in the blue light. “He was a lot of things, but never a liar.”

“I won’t.” It breaks out of him, cracks open his chest and crawls out, like the baby in Alien, leaves him bleeding and open - would give everything to make the lie true.

“You did,” and there it is, Tommy wishes he could take it back, could live up to Bobby’s estimation of him.  He wants to be that man.  For Bobby.  For Evan.

He can’t lie again, “I did.” Looks between them.  “I won’t again.”  Evan’s lashes shadow his cheeks, like he doesn’t want to look to see if Tommy is lying.  He brushes tear off of Evan’s cheek, admits, “I’m really bad at it. Leaving you. I can’t — I can’t stay away. Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t,” Evan says finally.  “I never did.”

“Okay.  Then I won’t.”  It’s a promise to Evan.  To Bobby.  To himself.  

[loveanddeepthroat]

Unlucky Thirteen

Summary - Sylus liked the quiet girl with the poorly heart. She was the only kid in the laboratory who hadn’t come and gone before he could even remember what she looked like. When he doesn’t see her for a whole day, he knows that there’s only one place she could be—the Medical Bay. He’d been through it all before she’d even arrived at the lab over a year prior, and felt a duty to keep her company whilst her heart healed.

Word Count - 2.4k

Warnings - Child!Sylus and Child!MC as experimental lab rats. Mentions of child experimentation and non-consensual medical treatments. This theory of them being lab rats is not canon, so keep in mind that I have made this all up!

Sylus couldn’t find the girl with the poorly heart.

It was the third and final free hour of the day in the laboratory’s Playroom, and she was nowhere to be seen among the children.

Again.

The girl had been missing a few times before now—usually for further experimentation. But for all three of their free time breaks from observations and alterations meant only one thing.

She had to be in the Medical Bay.

He didn’t know much about the quiet girl, other than the fact that she had problems with her heart. There was always a big, white bandage over her chest that just peaked out over the neckline of her plain white gown, but he would never ask her questions about it. They only got to see each other during mealtime and free time, so discussing the things they were put through in between was something neither of them wanted to commit any time to. She didn’t want to talk about her heart as much as he didn’t want to talk about his eye.

In fact, they didn’t talk much at all. They just had a common denominator that seemed to draw them to each other.

Sylus had watched kids come and go from this place for a few years, hoping that one day it would be his turn to leave. That futile hope had been short lived, and it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere when all the other kids around him dropped off like flies. 

When she came in with a new group of kids around a year ago, he thought nothing of it. She was just a face he’d forget after she would undoubtedly be released. But as those weeks turned to months—the few children she had arrived with long gone—her face had remained a constant for Sylus.

He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d finally been freed today. The people in the lab coats were far too interested in her as of late, and she was starting to look more withdrawn each time he saw her. Much like he had when he woke from an operation he didn’t know he was having.

The more he thought about her condition, the more he hoped that she was in the Medical Bay—rather than somewhere more sinister.

He’d grown a bit of an attachment to the girl. She was the only friendly face that hadn’t left him. Even in their lack of conversation, he enjoyed her company. Felt comforted by her. They often read in silence side by side, always in whichever back corner of the Playroom was free of other kids. The less significant test subjects always delved straight into the toys and games, but the two of them had no interest in joining in.

Sometimes, if the lab coats had prodded around in his eye too much, the girl would quietly read aloud to him. He liked it when she read to him. So much so that he sometimes played on his eye problems just to hear her read for an hour.

He was used to her being absent for one or two of the three free hours they get, but this was too much for him. 

He had to get into the Medical Bay.

His head had purposely been rested against the electric heater beside the bookshelf for a few minutes as he made himself appear as clammy and feverish as possible. His cheeks burned as he pinched them repeatedly, and he put on his best nasally voice once he approached the Playroom supervisor with a little book tucked under his white t-shirt, rubbing his good eye for added effect.

“I feel sick,” he whined to the stone-faced woman in all-black clothing.

She barely threw down a glance at him, raising a lazy eyebrow. “You were fine during dinner.”

Damn.

Plan B came into quick effect. He rolled his eyes back a little, swaying where he stood. The hot skin of his forehead bumped against her hipbone as he stumbled forward dramatically, and she quickly bent down to his level, steadying him with her firm hands.

“Oh for goodness sake,” she mumbled, her frown deepening when she pressed the backs of her cold fingers against his head. She pulled out a little radio device that was tucked in the chest pocket of her shirt, speaking into it frankly with a push of its button. “Patient S013 is feeling unwell. Feverish. Permission to move from Room 11 to the Medical Bay?”

Sylus held his breath, willing whoever was on the other end of the radio call to grant the cold woman the permission he didn’t know she would need. He’d only ever been to the Medical Bay once before, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. Being examined and tested by strange scientists everyday was bad enough. He had no interest in spending time with the nurses who tended to him after his surprise surgery.

“Permission granted,” a male voice affirmed through the radio.

The stern lady grabbed suddenly at his shoulder, pushing him lightly out of the noisy room and down the silent halls. He liked when they were silent. He’d heard enough screams from children to haunt him for life.

The walk to the Medical Bay was short, and Sylus remembered to throw a few sniffles and pathetic coughs into the silent trek to keep up his charade. He must’ve still looked red faced and sickly, the nurse on duty handing him a gown to change into straight away upon his arrival.

He changed as quickly as he could behind a curtain that gave him only a sliver of privacy, tucking the book he’d smuggled from the Playroom into the inner fabric. The nurse checked his vital signs In the small triage room with nothing but a blank look on her face for comfort. Nobody around here tended to smile or show any true emotion towards the children. 

It didn’t affect Sylus at all. He didn’t know any different. Didn’t remember a time when someone smiled at him. Or when he had smiled at someone else. 

He wasn’t sure if he ever had.

The small, sterile Medical Bay was empty as he followed the nurse inside—save for the tuft of the girl's hair he could see peeking out above her blanket. He almost audibly sighed with relief to see her, but the fact that something was wrong enough for her to even be in the Medical Bay struck alarm bells in his head.

“Patient S113 isn’t feeling good, so try to be quiet,” the nurse told him. She pulled back the covers of the bed next to the girl, hurriedly ushering him to get in before giving him a syringe of medicine to take. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

He nodded, waiting for her to turn around before he took a look at the sickly girl a few feet away. The skin on her face was shiny and damp in the stark light of the strip lights above them. She didn’t look well at all, and had the thin, white blanket pulled right the way up to her chin.

The nurse administered a dose of something fluorescent yellow to her in another syringe, pressing her hand to the girl’s damp forehead with a tut. Sylus could’ve sworn that the nurse sighed a little in concern.

“That medicine should make you feel a bit better soon. Try to sleep,” she murmured to the girl quietly, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to her skin before leaving the room. 

He didn’t know what to do once the nurse closed the door behind her. The quiet girl looked so…deathly. Her colouring was a good few shades lighter than it usually was, and there was a greyish tinge to it too. Whatever was going on with her, it didn’t look good.

“What happened?” he blurted quietly.

She slowly turned her head towards him, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realised it was him.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice small and croaky.

The sound hurt something in Sylus’s chest. “What happened?” he repeated again, sitting up a little further in the bed to get a good look at her.

The girl lifted a shaky hand, pointing straight to where her heart was. “I think it’s broken,” she replied.

Sylus frowned a little. He didn’t know that hearts could break. Bones could break, he knew that much. He’d seen broken bones quite often in this place. Her heart wasn’t like most people’s—he knew that too. 

But it couldn’t break. Right?

“Are they going to make it better?”

She blinked at him a few times, and he really studied her. This was the most they’d ever said to each other in conversation, but it didn’t feel strange or wrong like he thought it might. It felt natural. Almost like they were both still here in the wake of so many other young patients’ departures for a specific reason. 

He found himself wanting to know more. He wanted to know everything about her heart—including how to fix it.

Her weary eyes glanced around the room for any listening ears, and she shifted the blanket down from her chin so she could see over it. She eventually whispered back to him, “I’m not sure that they’re even trying to fix it.” She took a shuddering breath in, wincing a little bit. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

That’s when he noticed it.

In the absence of the blanket, he saw the gnarly tail end of a stitched up incision where he would usually see a bit of the bandage she always donned on her chest. He may have been young, but he knew without having to ask what the lab coats had done to her. They’d done the same thing to him once before. Put him to sleep without warning to poke and prod into the innards of his most interesting body part—his right eye. He had no idea why they were so interested in it, or why they were equally as interested in her heart. But whatever the reason, it was mutually exclusive to the two of them.

“They’ve done that to me, too,” he reassured her quietly, trying to shift that anxious look from her tired face. She didn’t know what was going on, so he felt a duty to soothe any worries on her mind. “I woke up in here with a big bandage over my eye before you came to live here. Couldn’t see properly for a few weeks, but it got better. Like your heart will.”

The girl looked apprehensive, but seemed a little bit more settled to know that he’d been in the same situation previously. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been here for a long time.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but he answered like it was. He didn’t want to stop talking with her, hoping it was bringing her some semblance of peace. “I have,” he confirmed with a nod. “Me and twelve other kids were the first here. That’s why I’m patient S013.”

“Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number,” she whispered.

Sylus cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was kidding. He’d never heard of that before, but if she was right, it would make perfect sense. Patients S013 and S113 being the two most focused on subjects in the lab coats’ top secret experiments did seem a bit too coincidental in his mind.

He sure did have a lot of time on his hands to think about things like that, too. She was the one hundredth kid after him to arrive, and ended up stuck here with him for the foreseeable. Maybe whichever newcomer unlucky enough to be patient S213 would end up in their same predicament.

“We’ll find our luck one day,” he finally responded, exuding all of his confidence into that one sentence. He was determined that he’d fight his way out of here one day, and that he’d be able to bring her with him. He wasn’t strong enough—not yet. But whatever they were doing to him here, he’d use it to his own advantage once he got a good understanding of it. “Maybe we’ll both get out of here, and we can see what the world is like.”

The girl smiled. Smiled at him, even in her state. It wouldn’t have been possible to not smile back, no matter how unnatural it felt for the corners of his lips to curl.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Her blinks were slowing down, and she looked sleepy. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the ocean one day, like I’ve read about in books.”

Sylus suddenly remembered the book he’d smuggled in, still resting coldly against his stomach beneath his gown. He quickly reached down into the neckline, grabbing it out and waving it up for her to see it.

“I could read to you, if you want? While you fall asleep.” He wasn’t sure if it would help her in any way, but the familiarity of a book seemed like the best form of comfort he could think of for her.

Her tired eyes lit up a little, and her smile widened. It struck something in Sylus’s heart, and for a moment, he wondered if he had a heart problem. He’d never felt such a feeling, but he liked it. It felt like a real feeling. Not just the horrible physical feelings of aches and pains.

It was a mental feeling. A caring feeling.

He settled himself back against the plump pillow behind him, opening up the book. It was a children’s fable that they’d read many times before, and the one book he enjoyed hearing her read. He checked on her once more, making sure she was still awake and eager to hear him read.

The idea of a book seemed to wake her up a bit from her fatigue, but even so, Sylus would read the book over and over until it lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

He quietly cleared his throat reading the title aloud the way she always does.

“The Kitten Who Met The Crow…”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story! I think the lab rats theory is so interesting and couldn’t resist this sweet little idea! I’ve been a bit slow on the content recently and I do apologise, but I’m in the midst of moving into a new apartment and the stress of that on top of the way my neurodivergent son is struggling to cope with it has turned my brain to mush. Things should settle soon and I’ll be back on the requests 🤍

[fake-mouthstatic]

bucktommy, post-ep 8x15 coda. 724 words, rated G.

*

Tommy senses it almost before it happens.

One second Evan is stoically thanking a nurse for keeping him updated on Hen and Chim's conditions, the next she's gone and Tommy watches as all of Evan's resolve seems to vanish in a flash, his hands shaking as his legs threaten to give out beneath him.

Tommy's out of his chair in an instant to catch him, taking his weight before he hits the floor.

"I got you," he mutters as Evan starts sobbing into his chest, great wracking things that shudder through his whole body as Tommy just holds him, wishing there was something, anything he could do to ease his pain.

It's a few minutes before a different nurse pats Tommy gently on the shoulder.

"There's a quiet room just down the hall if you need it," she says softly and Tommy nods gratefully as she points him in the right direction.

"Evan, can you walk?" he asks, lifting his head with a gentle finger to the chin and trying not to let his own heart break even further at the sight of Evan so distraught, so thoroughly wrung out that he's almost unrecognisable.

Evan manages a nod, letting Tommy walk him down the hall. The door to the quiet room shuts itself behind them, blocking out the thrum of voices and activity from the waiting room, surprisingly busy for 5am on a Friday morning.

Tommy settles Evan onto a worn couch then crouches down in front of him.

"Chimney and Hen, they're okay?" he asks gently, hands resting softly on Evan's knees; he suspects that's what caused him to break, the last two pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

Tommy had watched Evan eventually pull himself off the floor of the lab, had seen the way he'd arranged his face like a mask as he'd taken charge, making sure that everyone was taken care of as much as was possible right now.

Tommy had helped where he could but really, Evan hadn't needed him; he'd taken it all on himself and Tommy knows Bobby would be proud, even as it hurts to think it.

He won't say it, not yet, but he hopes Evan knows.

"Yeah," Evan replies, voice raw and broken, "they're gonna be fine."

"Good," Tommy says, relief flooding his chest and making him feel almost nauseous as it churns with the grief in his stomach. "Now, I'm going to get you some water-"

"No!" Evan looks almost panicked for a moment. "Uh, sorry, I just meant… stay? Please." He wipes a hand across his eyes before continuing, quieter and somehow even more vulnerable. "I, uh… I don't want to be alone. Not yet."

"Okay," Tommy says simply, moving to sit next to him on the couch; it's squashier than he expected and he sinks into it as Evan immediately burrows into his side.

"Sorry," he mutters into Tommy's chest, and Tommy frowns as he throws an arm around him, pulling him even closer.

"What on earth are you apologising for?"

"I'm trying to be strong for them, like B- Bobby wanted, he said, he said they'd need me, but I just-"

"Evan, sweetheart," Tommy interrupts, tears welling in his own eyes as he takes hold of Evan's hand, "you don't have to be strong for me, okay? You've done everything you can and for now, everyone is taken care of. They'll need you again but right now, let me take care of you."

Evan squeezes his hand, tilting his head to look up at him with his big blue, watery eyes.

"I just… can't believe he's really gone," he says, barely getting to the end of his sentence before the great wracking sobs start up again, his whole body shaking in Tommy's arms.

"I know, baby, I know," Tommy says, barely even noticing the pet name slip out as he listens to Evan fall apart in his arms, each sob sending a stab of grief through his own heart.

At least, Tommy tells himself, at least he can do this right. Can make sure he's there for Evan through it all, as much as he needs or wants.

"Whatever you need," he mutters almost to himself as he rubs soothing circles into Evan's back, his callouses catching on the soft fabric of his LAFD issue jacket. "I'm right here."

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

“Someone needs to call Eddie.”

Later, no one can really say who spoke; it's like a collective thought, expressed aloud. It's almost as if those were Bobby's words, being the conscience of the 118 one last time. Bobby. 

Maybe it's the absurdity of it all, or this place. First Presbyterian, where everyone was taken—Tommy doesn't know who's responsible, who’s pulled out all the stops. Just a moment ago, they were still in military custody; somewhere out there, Hartman must be seething. Tommy tries not to think about what it all means. What it means for him, for his career. Over there sits Evan, slumped on a plastic hospital chair, and Tommy’s heart just aches looking at him. What does it mean that he reacted so quickly and in this way to a single phone call from his ex-boyfriend? Why did he jump into a helicopter without hesitation, his heart pounding a rhythm that seemed to scream, EvanEvanEvan.  

What if he risked everything for this man who doesn't even want him? But in the end, Tommy tells himself as he half-heartedly sips bad coffee from a paper cup, he did it for Howie. And Howie will be fine, they said. Well, as fine as you can be when you survive while someone else dies before your eyes. That’s a pain Tommy knows, even if it becomes dull over time. It fades, but it will never go completely. 

He looks back at Evan, who, with his hands on his knees, stares blankly at the worn linoleum floor. His hair is disheveled, as if he’d run his hands through it in despair, as people do when something is just unbelievable. Evan's cheeks are glistening, tears have carved grooves into them – deepened by dust and dirt, just as time will do. He looks incredibly young and hurt, even though outwardly everything seems fine. Nevertheless, he’s devastated. He looks… raw, as if his insides have been turned outward. Evan is an open wound, bleeding and festering, and it will remain that way for quite some time. Tommy wishes he had words for him, words that heal, that comfort, but right now he seems miles away from even reaching out his hand. 

Bobby is gone. 

Such a thought, such a truth, is impossible to fathom. Tommy blinks, even though there’s no dust in the hospital’s air. He’s quickly glancing at the white wall opposite of him, but that’s not making things better. Ravi leans against the wall, his gaze as empty as Evan's. Tommy hardly knows him, but he knows what he sees: a young man who’s lost something very precious. Somehow, Tommy’s glad it’s just the two of them, at least for now. The air in the tiny waiting room may be dust-free, but it’s filled with grief. Tangible sadness, it's like wading through smoke without knowing what lies at the end. Tommy knows, though, and his skin tingles at the mere thought of what lies ahead. Not the military and all that, he couldn't care less about that right now. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance – the five stages of grief. No one tells you that they don't necessarily follow a linear path; it's not a checklist that your body and mind have to work through. But they will work through it, all of them.

It’s a bit of comfort to think that none of them will have to be alone. Especially not Athena – Tommy can only vaguely imagine how she must feel right now. He glances at Evan, who looks like he has no tears left, but that's not true; it's never true. He'll cry until it chokes him, maybe until he’ll throw up, and he won’t feel better afterwards. Evan has lost someone who meant more to him than his own father. It's another feeling that Tommy can't quite comprehend. Athena, however, has lost a piece of her life. It’s a wound that will take a lot of effort to heal, if ever. Bobby will leave a scar on all of them, even on Tommy: one of the scars that hurt when the seasons change. The unshed tears behind Tommy's own eyes sting painfully. This is a pain he understands. And maybe, one day, he'll tell Evan about it. 

Evan clutches the seat of his chair, his knuckles white. But only with one hand. The other is picking at a small cut on his chin; he’s scratched off some fresh scab, it’s bleeding. Tommy switches off his brain, not for the first time that day, puts the disgusting and now cold coffee on a small table and moves over to him. 

“Evan,” he says softly, “stop that. You need to stop that.”

Evans' eyes are red and heartbreakingly empty as he looks at him.

“Stop what?” he asks, the bitter tone in his voice cutting into Tommy's heart. “B-Bobby is... damn it, Tommy.”

What is there to say? Tommy's heart is crying out, I know, honey, I know, but he can't say it out loud. There’s not a single word to comfort Evan now, is there? So he says nothing. He simply takes Evans' hand, gently guides it away from his face, while he searches for a handkerchief in his pockets with his other hand. There's nothing there except a cleaning rag; he's still in his turnouts. That thing probably isn't very clean, but what’s their motto? Who cares. Gently, he pushes a somewhat smooth edge of the tissue against the cut in Evan’s chin. 

Somehow, it brings some life back into the man; a simple little gesture, but Evan stirs – in the worst possible way. Tommy recognizes the signs, he sees the sparkle in those sky-blue eyes that he never wanted to see so sad. Then, at first it's just his hands, Evan starts to shake. Like someone who’s been thrown out naked in the cold, realizing that the door is closed forever, shivers rattle his entire body. He lifts his head to look at Tommy, it feels like there’s something breaking inside Tommy, too. The part of him that was reserved for Bobby is already in ruins. But the part of him that belongs only to Evan, even if he doesn't know it... 

“Tommy,” Evan stammers, and all he can reply is, “I know.”

He's not prepared for Evan to throw himself into his arms, wrapping around him like Tommy’s his last lifeline. 

“Stay,” Evan says, trembling, his eyes wide open. 

Tommy wouldn't leave now, he wouldn’t leave anybody in this state, especially not Evan. He clears his throat, grief weighs heavy on his vocal cords. But Evan needs an answer, and Tommy has only one. 

“Of course… Evan. As long as you need me.”

It’s a promise.

[thanks to @li-nox for you know what!][Sorry not edited due to time issues][All my BuckTommy on AO3]

[toxintouch]

TOUCHSTARVED WISH LIST:

✦ Vere going absolutely feral after he sees the MC getting hurt ✦

It's a Soulless that hurts them?  The monster barely gets a swipe in before Vere is on it.  He's ripping it apart with his fucking teeth.  He can't stop growling, even after the thing is already dead, blood dripping down his face, splattering his chest, smeared all over his chains.

He's a force of nature - beautiful and deadly in equal measure.  

His ears are going to stay pinned back for a while.  He can't relax.  MC can try to calm him down and comfort him but his disposition won't go back to normal until he's satisfied.  (Satisfied with patching them up, fussing over them in a way that's just this side of an insult.)  He'll take them to bed, but only in the most literal sense.  (He just wants to listen to their heartbeat with his tail wrapped around them until he feels better.)

 . . . But what if it is a human who does it? Say, someone from the Senobium… 

Vere wants to blot them from the face of the earth but he can't.  Not with the collar on.  He has to resort to trickery or manipulation if he wants MC's assailant to stop.

 (And he has to act unaffected.  He can't let on…)

 It's absolutely maddening because he could squash their attacker like a bug if he wasn't so chained.  He wouldn't have to watch this happen if -- he shouldn't have to watch this happen, they're his -- but he can't stop it, not the way he wants to.  His hackles are up.  His claws absolutely itch with the need to tear this vermin to shreds.  His handlers will write it off as hunger, blood lust.  (They'll be right, if only partially.)

Bonus Points: Vere seeks Kuras' help willingly in order to save MC's life.

 The MC getting grievously injured…

Vere picking them up bridal style and carrying them to Kuras' clinic. 

He doesn't wait in the line.  (Not that there's going to be much of a line, people scatter like rats once they see his face.)  

He'll break down the goddamn door if he has to.  He doesn't say a word, just snarls at Kuras and refuses to be removed from the room while MC is treated.

 (Does he fume in the corner the whole time?  Or does he hover near Kuras, distrusting the angel, accepting the proximity despite his distaste?)

 Kuras doesn't say anything either.  He just gets to work.

[brokenheartwithheartbreak]

Theo: I’m dying

Liam: You’re not dying

Theo: There’s something fundamentally wrong with me. I’m dying

Liam: When was the last time you slept?

Theo: ……No, not that. Something else.

[anonymousangstmonster]

Idea #39

The Fentons were a family of merciless mer hunters.

But when Jack Fenton found a barely-a-year-old, white haired, black scaled, green eyed guppy washed up on their private beach, he couldn’t just leave the little guy to probably get eaten alive by seagulls. He’d always had a soft spot for kids.

He somehow convinced Maddie to let him keep it, as long as he was responsible for it. Jack had to feed it, clean it and it’s tank, train it, make sure it didn’t try to eat people, entertain it, the normal things you have to do to take care of a pet. Sure Maddie was the one that made sure it was fed most of the time since Jack forgot, but he did all the other things! He even gave him a name, Danny.

They actually got to learn a lot about merfolk biology taking care of him.

Over time the pair of scientists grew more and more attached to the little baby mer in their lab. He was practically a son to them. He was so sweet and cute, who wouldn’t love him instantly!

They taught him how to talk(he had such an adorable voice!), they taught him about the outside world(his eyes always sparkled with curiosity and wonder when listening to their stories).

When an old mer hunting friend came over to visit, he told them to be careful, that the creature could be using its siren powers to make them love it. They assured him that Danny’s powers(if he had any) were disabled by the small and unobtrusive cuff around his wrist.

They arranged for a little boy Danny’s age to come for a playdate, since he always seemed so lonely by himself in his artificial habitat. That young boy was named Tucker Foley, and the two hit it off instantly. Playing in the shallow area of Danny’s ‘exhibit’ with beach balls and plastic boats.

More time passed and Danny grew, his aquarium growing along with him.

Sometimes other hunter and scientist friends of the Fentons would come see the lab, and they would see a teenage merman in a comfortable environment and not on an examination table.

The parents wanted to see their boy free and happy, so they released him into the ocean. It wasn’t until later that they realized they never prepared him for the outside world, they never taught him how to hunt for himself, to avoid fishing nets, he might get seriously hurt or even die out there because they were ‘so eager to get rid of him’.

One of their worst fears were confirmed when they found him washed up on their beach bleeding from his tail, abdomen, and arm, unconscious.

Mer au combined with “Danny has always been lab rat” au, and wholesome up until the plot.

“I also just want Jack to invent a ghost(mer) treat and make Danny do tricks for it.” -that applies to this as well. Also I had the idea for that when eating a soft peppermint for the first time in forever.

ALSO GUYS THIS AU IS SHARED WITH @doiyi-yt! GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF UNDER THE #fish boy au TAG!

[purple-imagines]

Disaster

Pairing - Chase Davenport x Reader

Summary - Reader meets Spike for the first time

Warnings - kissing, swearing

Word Count - 697

Masterlist

“Y/N!” She heard Leo scream out of her phone, as soon as she answered it. 

“Hello to you too, Leo.” She replied back. 

“Can you come to our house? The lab to be exact.” She could hear banging in the background. 

She narrowed her eyebrows, “why?”

“Well, Adam made Chase angry and Spike decided to make an appearance.”

The girl let out a sigh, of course. “Where’s Davenport?”

“Out of town.” She could hear Adam scream in the distance.

“Tasha too?”

“Yep. Are you coming?”

“Yes, I’m headed there now.”

“Good. Hurryy-” He hung up after screaming. 

The girl walked the street to the Davenports, only 10 minutes away. Arriving, everything looked normal from the outside. 

She walked into the house, seeing Bree on her phone on the couch, Adam in the hallway, looking out of breath, and Leo running into the living room.

“Thank God! He's in the basement.”

Y/N crossed her arms, “what’s in this for me?” 

“Uh- Chase will do your homework.”

“We already do our homework together.”

“Oh.” Leo looked defeated, “I’ll cover for Chase next time y’all want to stay out past curfew.”

“Hm.. ok.” She shrugged, heading towards the elevator. 

Going down towards the basement, she couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. She’s heard of Spike, but never actually met him. She trusts Chase though, and according to Leo she could do it. 

The elevators open and she’s greeted with silence. Walking through the doors, she hears a loud bang, causing her to jump. 

She could see lab equipment all over the floor, some in pieces, others still salvageable. Spike was standing in front of the tubes, looking mad. 

“Hey there, pretty lady,” he smirked, “what’s your name?”

Y/N crossed her arms, “Y/N.” 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Spike, but you can call me whatever you want.

She huffed. He was annoying, to say the least. “Well, Spike,” she jumped up onto a counter, swinging her legs. “What do you wanna do?”

“Other than you?” He continued to smirk, causing her to roll her eyes. “I want to destroy this place.”

“Ok then.” She slowly pushed a lamp off the counter she was sitting on. Keeping eye contact with Spike the entire time. 

His eyebrows rose, he slowly walked towards his left, towards Davenport's inventions. Copying what the girl did, he slowly pushed one off, causing it to break in half. 

The girl hopped off the counter, keeping eye contact, she walked towards the middle of the lab, taking her arms and sweeping everything off the table. 

Back in the living room, Adam, Bree, and Leo were watching everything on Eddie's screen.

Leo drug his hands down his face, “what is she doing? She’s supposed to stop him from destroying the lab, not help mess it up.”

Bree shrugged, “it’s working.” 

Looking back at the screen, they could see the smiles on both their faces. They were causing havoc, but were happy about it. 

Now they stood face to face, about five inches apart. “If they kiss, I’ll throw up.” Leo gagged, walking over towards the couch. 

Y/N put her forehead on Spikes, looking him in the eyes. “You happier now?”

He laughed, “yeah.” He pulled her in and kissed her lips. The girl slowly kissed back, putting her hands on the back of his neck.

Pulling back after a couple of seconds, she realized his hands were on her waist. “Chase?” 

“It’s me.” She pulled him into her, hugging him tight. 

He slowly pulled away, looking around at the damage. “Did I do this?”

“Not all of it.” She winced. 

Chase let out a smile, pulling her into another kiss. 

“Is it clear?” They hear Leo yell from the hallway. 

They laugh as they let go of each other. “We’re good.” She called back. 

Leo, Bree, and Adam walk into the lab, looking around at the disaster. Adam and Leo walk towards Chase, while Bree walks towards Y/N.

Bree bumps shoulders with her, “someone had fun.” She teased.

Y/N gasped, “you were watching?” Bree laughed and nodded.

Chase wrapped his arms around YN, “now I’ve got to see this video.”

[panwithastupidplan]

it has been done o7

part two of many to come (hopefully) of my lab rats series, focused on Marcus and Daniel. i didn’t have anything to post for chase’s birthday lol so this is as good as it gets. 

happy birthday to the birthday boy

[lucy-frostblades]

Tasha and Douglas painting each other's nails? Besties.

hi anon sorry this is so late but i provide u with a drabble as an apology!!

.

Tasha sits on the couch, a movie playing on the TV, but she's not paying too much attention to it, most of her attention focused on painting her left hand, the nail polish shaky in her non dominant hand.

She hears footsteps and looks up to see Douglas, tapping away on one of Donald's tablets.

"Oh, are you doing your nails! Do you have any remover, mine are chipped to all shit!" Douglas drops the tablet on the couch and sits next to her, waving his chipped black nail polish at her. She sets her nail polish down and hands Douglas her nail polish remover and he grabs a tissue and starts scrubbing at his nails.

"Do you want me to paint your right hand?" Douglas asks after a beat, the movie droning on in the background. "I'm ambidextrous, so it's never been a problem, but an ex of mine in college always hated doing his left hand, so I started doing his nails for him. I'm pretty good, too." Tasha sighs.

"Please. I hate painting my own nails, honestly, but I hate looking at bare nails even more."

Douglas laughs and takes the bottle from Tasha, grabbing her hand lightly and starting to paint the first coat nimbly.

"So, what happened to your ex?" Tasha asks, hiding the smirk on her face.

"Oh, he was an absolute douchebag, cheated on me with one of my friends at the time." Douglas motions for her to blow on her nails to dry the first coat.

"Sounds like a dick." Tasha says, inspecting Douglas' handiwork. He barks a laugh, motioning for her to give him her hand back.

"Oh, he was. One time, I planned a whole date for us, like nice restaurant and everything, and he stood me up!"

"He did not!"

"He did!"

[texanmarcusdavenport]

lays on floor. now that my life's work is over what should i write?

[t0yac1d]

A Nonsense Christmas (C.Davenport x F!Reader)

Warnings: Smut, oral (male receiving), blow job, facial, slight hair pulling

"Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like, ho,ho,ho."

Notes: I hope you are all having an amazing Christmas and if you don't celebrate it, then I hope you're having an amazing day! Also, sorry for not uploading I'm pretty busy with school, work and practice, but I'll try to be consistent with uploading. I'm also sorry for how shitty and short this is.

Word Count: 256

His hands were pulling and tugging at your hair, his hips bucking roughly up in your mouth causing you to gag around him. Your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent shapes in the skin. "F-fuck" he stuttered, his head falling back and his mouth agape. You took the hand that was in your hair and placed it beside him, lifting your head up and off his dick with a pop. Wrapping your hands around him, pumping him as his eyes rolled back.

You licked his tip, swirling your tongue around and playing with his balls, his hands found their way back to your head, pushing down while his hips moved upwards. You gagged, "I'm sorry..." he apologized. You gave him a "hm." which sent vibrations down to his dick and to his entire body. Goosebumps trailing up his body, he shivered.

He couldn't hold on for much longer, the core in his stomach tightening, his cock begging for release. His fingers gripped at your hair and pulled you off of him, a string of spit connecting the both of you and drool sitting at your chin. He stood up and held your head on place, pumping his cock, "Close your eyes, and open your mouth for me, sweet thing." He let out a loud moan when he came. His cum shooting all over your face and in your mouth, some landing on your chin and dribbling down to your tits.

"I love it when you let me do that.." he panted

"Merry Christmas, my love."

[agaypanic]

I would love if you could do a Chase Davenport x reader where the team is on a mission and part of it involves keeping the reader safe in a room somewhere and the whole time that Chase is trying to lead the mission the reader is flirting with him and making him all flustered bc she thinks it’s cute when the very serious smartest man in the world stumbles over his words

The President's Daughter (Chase Davenport X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The Lab Rats have a new mission: keep the president’s daughter safe until the people threatening her life have been taken care of. But Chase’s job gets a bit more difficult when you keep trying to flirt with him.

A/N: au where the president is actually a pretty chill guy and not a literal monster. Kinda spoiled/party girl reader. Kind of a white chicks vibe but instead of impersonating you, the lab rats kinda have to follow you around like bodyguards/babysitters. Feel like i kinda strayed from the request but idk, i was feeling a certain vibe when writing this and that vibe is bodyguard!chase x rich girl!reader. Characters are legal age. A lil nsfw but nothing really explicit

***

As soon as Donald had gotten the call, the Lab Rats were suited up and packing their gear, ready for the jet coming to the bionic island to pick them up. Apparently, they were dealing with a matter of national security. Although the issue was probably very serious, they were excited to have a mission with such importance and status.

But when the mission was explained more in-depth, a part of them wanted to turn the jet around.

“Babysitting?” Chase asked with an incredulous tone, flipping through the file that he and all his teammates were given. It was mainly a profile of the president’s daughter, who had recently been getting threats from an unknown group. Sure, Chase knew she didn’t deserve those threats. But he was still a bit bitter about the fact that he was assigned to watch you instead of finding the mystery perpetrators.

“You’re doing surveillance, Chase.” Davenport corrected. “You guys need to keep a close eye on this girl and make sure that nothing happens to her until we find out who’s been sending the threats.”

Chase scoffed. “Glorified babysitting, then.” He closed the manila folder and tossed it on the small table in front of him. 

“Oh, come on, Chase. It can’t be that bad.” Bree said, still looking at the girl’s profile. However, she was more focused on the pictures than the words. “Ooh! That top’s cute. I wonder if we’re the same size…”

“The top’s not the only cute thing.” Leo pointed out, looking over Bree’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, Chase, but I consider being around a total babe a good thing.”

Adam laughed. “Chase wouldn’t know anything about that. He’s too nerdy. ‘Oh, hi, I’m Chase. I can’t talk to girls, I’mtoo busy… doing… nerd stuff.’” Adam’s half-hearted impression of his brother got some eye-rolls and light laughs from the group. “Even if he tried, she wouldn’t go for him. She’d rather be with a real man.” The eldest Davenport smirked while flexing his arms. Chase scowled.

“Not that it matters, but she would totally choose me over you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you guys are supposed to watch her, not flirt with her,” Davenport interjected, settling the argument. 

But just because the Lab Rats couldn’t flirt with you didn’t mean that you couldn’t flirt with any of them. The second you were introduced, you had your sights on Chase. He was so assertive, or at least he tried to be. His siblings didn’t seem to like listening to him much, but that didn’t stop him from putting on an authoritative persona.

“Chase Davenport.” He had said while firmly shaking your hand. “Mission leader. We’ll do our best to keep you safe and comfortable, Miss L/n.”

You grinned, inching closer to the man as you scanned him over. Decent build, handsome face, looks good in spandex, all good qualities to look for in a man.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable, Mr. Davenport.”

Chase let out a laugh of surprise, but tried to seem polite. He could already sense that this was going to be a long mission.

***

And a long mission it was indeed. Three weeks and there were no leads, suspects, or anything else that could put an end to the threatening messages you were receiving. And if it was having any sort of negative effect on you, which it seriously should, you certainly didn’t show it. You were too busy going out shopping with friends and going to clubs. All the things you were advised not to do.

For some reason, Chase was the only one who could see the problem with this. Then again, he was usually the only one to take his job seriously.

“You need to relax!” You giggled, nearly shouting over the club beats in poor Chase’s supersonic ear. He had been protesting your actions all day, but it seemed to only encourage you. “Come dance with us!”

“No thanks.” He sneered, looking past you to see his siblings scattered in the crowd. He couldn’t believe how irresponsible they were being. “You all may have forgotten, but you’re supposed to be supervised at all times.”

You huffed, pouting at the man staring down at you. But an idea sprung to mind and you soon smirked, deciding to gulp down the rest of your drink before responding. 

“You can keep a better eye on me on the dance floor.”

Chase took a deep breath, unsure of how to respond. He had a job to do, he was supposed to be the responsible one.

But he would be lying if he said that the way you were looking up at him right now didn’t make the crotch of his pants feel a bit tighter. 

You soon decided that you didn’t want to wait for an answer. In an act of tipsy bravery, you intertwined your fingers with Chase’s and pulled him away from the table where he stationed himself. With every step, Chase yelled at himself that this was a bad idea. He should pull back, drag you all the way home, and lock you in your room so you couldn’t get into any more trouble. Letting you convince him to let you go out tonight was the dumbest decision he’s made in a while.

But then you started swaying your hips, pulling Chase’s front to your back and guiding his hands to your hips. This shouldn’t be happening, but deep down, Chase doesn’t want it to stop.

“Is this okay?” You asked loudly over the music, looking over your shoulder at him. You leaned close to his face, blinking seductively. “Mr. Davenport?”

“Yeah.” Chase choked out, gripping your hips to guide your movements. You grinned, turning forward to continue dancing.

After that night, Chase became even more vigilant about your safety and whereabouts. But you both knew it was no longer just because of his mission.