#eliots little smirk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Dean come up with a not so subtle way of addressing their relationship status. However, the more she thinks about it, the more serious her relationship with Dean seems to be and with that comes a newfound trust. Meanwhile, the pair have a busy Sunday when they have to deal with not only their bodyguards but meeting parents for the first time too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 9,800ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: Hoo boy this part is a lot. I love all of these guys so much. Please enjoy!

_________

Reader POV

“You know you don’t have to tell anyone shit,” said Emma, your new head of PR. You worked on your mascara, Emma leaned against the makeup counter. “You and Dean are entitled to your privacy.”

“I know,” you said, blinking your eyes a few times, checking your teeth for lipstick. “It’s why I always wanted you to be my PR manager. You won’t fuck me over.”

“Bold statement from someone who knows better than to trust anyone in this business.” You straightened up, Emma looking you over.

“I trust Eric and he trusts you,” you said, stepping closer in your heeled booties. “I don’t think his little sister’s going to stab me in the back after all.”

“He told you,” she said, her chin tilt slightly annoyed. You shook your head with a smile. “How’d you know then? I’ve never used my maiden name professionally.”

“Same nose and eyes. The fact your twins are Eliot and Emmet and he has twin nephews by those names. Y’all really love the ‘E’ names in your family, don’t you?” She looked impressed, nodding her head.

“Eric said you’re smart. Tough too.” She stepped aside when you motioned for you to walk. “It’s a pretty good idea to present you’re dating on your terms but again, you don’t have to do it. You can just…be.”

“Yeah but if we address it head on, at least we can stop whatever fake rumors get put out there. The world doesn’t get to know every little thing about us but Dean and I both feel like this is the best way forward. I mean, we want to stay private but we’re okay with this. We don’t want to be forced to hide.”

“Alright,” she said, stopping with you by a rack of clothes. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Shoot,” you said, running your finger through the different options, one catching your eye.

“You love him?” Your eyes darted to hers, Emma watching carefully. “The way you two looked at each other this morning when we came up with this plan…those kinds of looks are dangerous.”

“...We’re dating is all. It’s only been three weeks,” you said, picking up a hangar, ignoring her stare.

“You’ve never publicly dated and never gone on more than a few private blind dates in all the time my brother’s worked for you. And the supposed playboy of the NFL comes along and you two commitmentphobes are head over heels?”

“Your point?” you asked with a sigh. “What, you want to plan the wedding already?”

“Some celebrities get married for money. Some for careers and some for image. And the public knows it. If you go out there tonight wearing that, the public will fucking fawn over you and Dean because you’re the real deal. Just be prepared for the long term because doing this might be a decision that will follow you the rest of your life.”

“He’s not a playboy,” you said absently, Emma smiling softly. “He was just…in pain.”

“Then keep loving him and we’ll figure out the craziness together,” she said, nodding at the piece of clothing in your hands. “That’s cute. It’ll drive him nuts.”

“I never said I loved him,” you said as her phone started to ring.

“Oh, sweetie. Your face said it all,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll let you get ready.”

You swallowed when she left the dressing room. Three weeks ago, Dean Winchester was a playboy asking for your number in a McDonald’s at midnight. And now…

You ran a hand over your stomach, butterflies filling it.

“Hey,” said Eric, knocking once on the door and poking his head inside. “You’re supposed to be on stage to start the encore in thirty seconds.”

You shook your head and threw the shirt on, Eric biting back a smirk. “Oh shut up.”

“I said nothing,” he grinned, helping you fix your hair where it got stuck. “I told Emma you knew what you were doing with this.”

“Well your sister had to come and drop a bomb that I apparently love Dean on me,” you said, fixing your ponytail, Eric adjusting the clip in the back like he had a million times on tour. “Eric! Say something about how ridiculous that is.”

“You are kind of in love with him. Good news, I think the kid’s in love with you too,” he winked. You stared up at him, Eric chuckling. “Oh, a handsome sweet man loves you. What an awful life you live, kiddo.”

“He does not love me and I’d appreciate if you don’t bring up that word around him.” You smoothed out your outfit, Eric still laughing. “I don’t…that word him at the current moment.”

“Yeah you do. Otherwise you would ignore the media and press until you did know.” You rolled your eyes at him, Eric patting you on the butt. “Go sing to your heart’s content little miss not in love.”

“Asshole,” you said, walking ahead of him towards the end of the makeshift hallway. You breathed heavy at the end, Eric rubbing your shoulders. “I do like him.”

“He brings you to life,” he whispered in your ear.

“Just…don’t say anything. Not until we have that conversation ourselves,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “Three more songs and then you’ve got some chicken nuggies waiting for you.”

You took a few deep breaths before you opened the door and jogged up some crew stairs, appearing in the wings of the stage where VIP’s got to view the show.

And tonight that meant Dean and his friends. You saw some of their eyes go wide before you grabbed your cloak off the rack and threw up the hood, concealing you away.

“Is she wearing…” you heard Benny say as you stopped in front of Dean, giving him a quick kiss.

“Break a leg, sweetheart,” he whispered as you were handed a mic. “Have fun.”

“I’ll see you in twenty,” you said before walking out on stage, a ravenous applause deafening you for a moment. You took your mark in center stage, the music for Fairytale starting up. It was one of those songs that started slow and ramped up. Every night on tour you got to have fun with it. The outfits were insane. Normally they were all fairytale themed and the crowd was always excited to see what theme you went for when your dancers would yank the cloak off you in the second chorus.

You swore you’d never heard a stadium so loud as when the cloak fell away and they saw you were wearing Dean’s NFL jersey. Well, almost his jersey. This one had been modified to add some lace and a few sparkles but it was subtle. You caught Dean smiling out of the corner of your eye and winked at him. He’d been all for the plan of your indirect way of addressing the photos from last night.

It told people enough but also meant you and Dean didn’t have to specially come out and say you were dating. The second you did that, they’d never stop wanting more and more from your private lives. And while you didn’t like to admit it, Eric and Emma had a point.

Dean calmed a part of you that hadn’t known peace in a very long time. It just felt…easy.

Two and a half songs later you took a bow and jogged off stage, Dean waiting with open arms.

“You’re amazing,” he said, picking you straight up in a hug. “You make that look like a walk in the park.”

“Years of practice,” you said, Dean setting you down. “I can’t wait to come to your guys game tomorrow.”

“Pretty sure the whole country can’t wait either,” joked Michael. “Speaking of which we better get out of here, getting pretty late.”

“Later guys,” said Dean, joining you as you went downstairs again to your dressing room, Eric and Sloane on your tail along with some other security.

Exactly forty two minutes later you were home with Dean, his strong arms throwing you over his shoulder. “Dean I just ate!”

“Well now I want my dessert,” he laughed, rushing upstairs with you, gently dropping you on your bed. You both were giggling, Dean leaning over you as he pushed hair out of your face. “Seeing you in my jersey was hot in way you don’t even know.”

“I can imagine. Let me wash up quick,” you said, rolling out from under him. He hummed and laid back on the bed while you ducked into the bathroom and made a straight shot for the closet. Less than two minutes later you exited, Dean relaxing with his eyes closed.

You cleared your throat, Dean lifting his head as he leaned against his elbows. He froze half-way up though, eyes wide.

“You said you liked me in your jersey.” You tugged on the bottom hem of the jersey to bring it down, just barely covering yourself. “What if I was wearing only your jersey?”

“Are you-”

“Uh huh,” you said, stepping forward, letting the material rise up and show him your completely bare bottom half. You crawled up on the bed, straddling his thighs as Dean swallowed roughly. “I was always afraid of what would happen once the world knew I was dating someone. That’d it’d be too much or the person would betray me.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion you no longer feel that way?” asked Dean. You nodded, taking his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“We’re not going to screw each other. I like the fact we can go do things out together now,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips. Your eyes closed softly, Dean’s thumb wiping over your bottom lip. “You don’t want anything from me. That feels so damn good, Dean, you don’t even know.”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” he said, your eyes peeling open as he moved his hand with yours to your cheek. “I do want something.”

Your heart started to race as he sat up, his free hand wrapping around your back, holding you flush to him. He smirked when he felt your chest thumping away, his hand squeezing yours.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious what I want, princess?” he murmured, practically crushing your body against his. “I told you from the start. I want you.”

You would have melted into a puddle on the floor if not for his arm around you. He kissed you sweetly, slowly, taking all the time in the world to enjoy this.

“Someday,” he mumbled, giving you a chance to cup his cheeks, Dean absently turning into the touch.

“Someday what?” you whispered, Dean smiling again.

“Someday you’ll fall in love with me too,” he breathed out, kissing you gently. He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “I’ve been a sucker for you for over a decade. I get to say it. Just don’t freak on me, Y/N. I can wait-”

“Someday,” you said, Dean nodding. “Someday soon.”

“Someday soon,” he repeated, dipping his lips to the hollow of your neck. You didn’t like the tone though and grasped his chin, bring his head up. Sad green eyes met yours, a pain behind them you hadn’t seen before. “It’s been three weeks. I know you can’t-”

“If it wasn’t you, I wouldn’t have let you in this bed.” You murmured. “If you can know, I can know too and I know that you are the first person I’ve let myself love in a very long time. God Dean, you don’t know how bad it was. How fucking alone I was. Surrounded by people all the time but so goddamn lonely.”

He shushed you, hugging you tight. “We don’t have to be lonely anymore, sweetheart. We can…we can just be together.”

You nodded, arms wrapped around his broad body, head buried in the crook of his neck.

“Here you thought this was going to be a sexy conversation,” he chuckled. You laughed softly, Dean’s lips pressing against the top of your head.

“I like all of our conversations,” you murmured, inhaling his musky cologne. You enjoyed the scent, his warm body soft as it held you.

“You got to be tired,” he whispered, running a hand down your back. “We should get you to sleep.”

“Dean.” You tilted your head up, Dean’s eyebrows raising so slightly you almost missed it. You nodded, taking his hand and putting it against your chest. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

He pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth, tongue playfully devouring you, a hungry beast finally uncaged within him. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, pulling hard on the material. He got the message, breaking free to yank it off one handed, giving you space to undo his belt.

“Do you have a condom?” he breathed, his cock already straining to get out of the confines of his pants.

“In the nightstand if you want. I have an IUD,” you said, tugging on his jeans, Dean toppling back on the covers. You put your hands on his hips, Dean giving you a reassuring smile. You’d been playing the past few weeks, teasing each other with hands and mouths. Dean always guided you though, focused on your pleasure, was so slow and gentle the first time you went down on him.

You had no doubt that tonight though he’d let you run things.

“Do you want a condom?” you asked, taking his boxer briefs off, momentarily crawling off the bed.

“I’ve never not used one.” You stood up, reaching for the drawer when he was suddenly sat up, long fingers wrapped around your wrist. You stared at each other, Dean pulling you close, sliding his hands upwards and pulling the jersey off.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“I’m clean. A little fun fact about myself? I haven’t gotten laid since last winter.” You blinked at him, lips parting. “I know. All the dates, the girlfriends. Hooking up lost it’s appeal a while ago.”

He settled his hands on your hips, licking his lips as he eyed you up and down properly for the first time.

“Think my brain caught up to the fact I always belonged to someone else.” You closed your eyes, straddling his lap. Large hands splayed against your bare back, Dean shaking your hair loose from your bun. He buried his nose in the strands, inhaling deeply. “I really convinced you to give the playboy all the pieces of you so quickly. Gotta say I’m a little surprised.”

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, hands sliding from his shoulders, down his chest, down his stomach, tracing every inch of his muscled body.

“Because I annoyed you into hanging out with me?” he chuckled. You shook your head, finding his chin, grasping it lightly until your eyes locked.

“Because you’re my best friend. Because I know you would never pressure me for anything, never ask for anything from me but my friendship in return.” You touched your forehead to his, Dean closing his eyes. “Because you’re mine, Winchester. I picked you first after all.”

“You so did not,” he chuckled. “I saw you with those obnoxious sneakers first.”

You laughed, Dean’s eyes peeling open, a devilish smirk on them. “Oh, Winchester. You really never paid attention to who would sing the National Anthem before all those little football games, did you?”

He blinked, cocking his head, eyes widening. “You! That wasn’t-”

“I was horribly shy and there were fifty thousand people in the stands each week. I went Hannah Montana and wore a wig and those crazy sunglasses.”

“You’re Penny Princess!” he exclaimed, shaking his head with a smile. “She flirted with me all the fucking time before games!”

“I was emotionally repressed in college, not dead. A girl has needs,” you laughed, running your fingers through his hair. “You were so fucking cute back then. So many times I wanted to be brave and go talk to you at a party but all I saw was pain. But I did think you were cute.”

“I thought you barely remembered me from college,” he said quietly.

“I repressed a lot from back then. I’ve been…thinking about you a lot lately and remembered some stuff,” you said, your cheeks feeling flush.

“Alright. You picked me first,” he murmured, thumbing over your hot face. His hand drifted downwards, lightly grazing over your chest, knuckles brushing your pebbled right nipple. Teasing. The barest of touches that sent sparks down your back.

Then you were both were moving fast. His thumb on your clit. Your hand pumping him. Mouths smashing together like you hadn’t spent the past three weeks making out every night.

“Whoa, girl. Get a little wet-” said Dean as you grabbed his shoulders and slammed down on his cock. The groan he let out was absolutely sinful. “Jesus. You’re wetter than the fucking ocean.”

“Emotional reassurance turns me on,” you said, Dean laughing so hard you felt it run like a wire through your body.

“I’m going to tell the press you should be the one with the naughty nickname if you can take dick like that on your first go.” You lifted your hips a few inches, dropping slowly, raising up slow again.

“You really ought to take a look in that nightstand sometime, handsome,” you winked, Dean’s chuckle turning into a soft little moan.

“How are you going so slow? You’re not gonna last,” he breathed out, squeezing your body tight.

“Feel my thighs,” you said, Dean’s hands sliding down, fingertips pressing into the flesh.

“Shit, girl. Gotta give me your leg workout.”

“Squats. A lot of fucking squats,” you said, slowly falling down on his cock again, his thumb rubbing lightly, easing you back from your build up. “I might not know what the fuck I’m doing but I can stay along for the ride at least.”

“You uh,” he groaned when you ground your hips down and rolled them, his cock twitching inside you. “Shit, you know what you’re doing, sweetheart. Trust me. Actually better cool it with that move unless you want me to go early.”

“Not yet, want this to last a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned into nearly an hour, both of you fucking drenched in sweat, Dean bouncing you up and down on his cock as you moaned into his neck. His whole body tensed up when he finally came a moment after you, your legs shaky but body sated.

“Did I do okay?” you panted, lifting your heavy head. Dean wore a goofy smile as he started to giggle, arms wrapped you, hugging you in a warm embrace.

“You did fucking incredible,” he laughed, kissing your cheek. “I can’t wait to go again.”

“Me too,” you said, eyes catching the clock on the nightstand. “Oh shit. It’s already after one. What time do you have to get up?”

“Six,” he said with a grin. “Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow, well today, should be an easy game.”

“We still got to get you to bed.” You tugged him up and into the bathroom, trying to get him to take a shower and into bed quickly. But he insisted on helping you clean up, washing your hair for you and even wrapping it up in a big towel while he dried off.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said when you shook your damp hair out, his eyes sleepy but a smile in them.

“You say that a lot.” You ran the towel over it one last time before ditching the towels on the floor, walking him back to the bedroom.

“It’s true,” he said, booping your nose. You barely had the covers peeled back when he tugged you to his chest, throwing the blankets over top of you. A heavy arm slid over your waist, your head resting on his shoulder while you hugged his torso. “See? You already know how to do a post-sex cuddle too.”

“Dork.”

“Yeah but I got the girl so…” he teased, kissing you when you looked up.

“Yeah I guess you did.” You kissed his pec, a pleasant warmth filling you when he tucked your head under his chin protectively. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You woke up to yelling. Dean was sat upright in bed, his body between you and the door, an arm in front of you as you both tried to shake the haze of sleep.

“Shut the fuck up, Eric!” screamed Sloane. You both relaxed, a glance at the clock showing it was five thirty. Eric shouted back as you ran your hands over your face.

“We need to have a talk with those two,” he sighed. “Here I thought you meeting my parents would be the most awkward part of my day.”

“Parents?” you asked, Dean humming as he pecked a kiss on your cheek and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“They always go to my home games. You’ll have to watch with them in the private booth I share with Benny. There’ll be other people. His family and friends. I’m sorry, I should have warned you it’d be different than the booth you had with your friends in New York. I can try to get you one on your own-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, cupping his cheek when the worried eyes remained. “I’d love to watch with them, meet them. And I like Benny so I’m sure I’ll like his family too.”

“Okay. I promise they’ll be cool. Well probably not but I can plead and beg with them at least.”

“I said shut up!” shouted Sloane again. You shared a look and got up, going into your closet to find a bra and underwear. You tossed a flannel shirt Dean had worn over last week on and wearily walked out, Dean dressed in last night’s clothes.

“I’m sure I’ll love your parents. Probably more than my own,” you mumbled, Dean catching your hand before you could open the door to go face whatever the hell was happening.

“Do you talk to them at all?” he asked. You shrugged.

“Holidays. They come to my award shows and normally at least a few concerts a year, normally the ones in Kansas City back home. They…visit during Max’s birthday week,” you said, glancing down. “His birthday is today. He’s twenty eight. They’ll show up tomorrow.”

“Why not today?”

“I get the feeling they don’t want me around today,” you whispered. “Another day that’s supposed to be his and I’d somehow make it about me.”

“We’ll celebrate tonight.” Your eyes darted up, Dean nodding. “We’ll have a cake and you can tell me all about him.”

You swallowed thickly, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes. “Y-You don’t have to do that.”

Dean stepped forward, tucking your loose hair behind your ear, humming to himself. “You’re right. I don’t.”

He held out a hand, smiling softly when you bottom lip wobbled. “Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” he responded. You nodded quickly, Dean shushing you when you sniffled. “I still make Sammy a birthday cake every year. Let’s do the same for Max, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, grateful as he intertwined his fingers with your own. Another round of shouts came and you readied yourself, Dean wiping away the rouge tear that had fallen. “What do we say to them?”

“Either they work it out, they work different areas or one of them has to go,” sighed Dean. “I really don’t want to lose Sloane, especially now with probably needing actual security for myself.”

“And I can’t lose Eric. I just can’t. He’s the one person I can trust without a doubt on my team. Plus he’s my only real friend beside you. Everyone else is superficial.”

“My boys can’t wait to hang out with you properly. They’re pretty ride or die,” he said, closing his eyes. “We tell them they work it out or they just don’t speak to each other about anything not strictly work related. They’re both professional enough to not jeopardize the two of us.”

“Agreed,” you said, the shouting getting louder. Dean opened the door, letting you take the lead when you got to the top of the stairs, looking over the balcony to see them shouting in the kitchen. “Eric! Sloane! It’s not even six in the damn morning!”

They both snapped their jaws shut, going into rigid upright positions as if they were soldiers in trouble.

“Guys, this can’t keep happening,” said Dean when you got downstairs, taking your hand in his again. Eric stared at his shoes while Sloane shot angry daggers in Eric’s direction. “We know the history between you two. But Y/N and I need the both of you, more than ever. You have to learn to get along or we have to insist you don’t talk to each other beyond what is necessary for work. Can you both do that?”

“Yes,” said Eric.

“Yes,” Sloane grit out, still glaring at Eric.

“Sloane,” snapped Dean, her eyes shooting to him instead, chin falling. “Yes or no. It’d kill me to lose you but if you can’t live with the options we presented, I will ask you to resign for the sake of Y/N’s safety.”

“I would never put her in danger,” said Sloane quickly, glancing at you. “I can work with Eric as Dean’s primary. We just…will be professional. There’ll be no more fighting.”

“Agreed,” said Eric, nodding quickly. “We apologize for disturbing you.”

“You’re lucky Dean had to get up soon anyway.” You went to the coffee maker, grateful one of them had already made a batch. You poured some in the periwinkle mug for Dean before making a cup for yourself. “Dean, would you be okay with Eric sticking with you today?”

“What?” asked Eric, Dean taking the mug and ignoring him.

“Love to,” he said. “Sloane will get you to the stadium and keep an eye on you.”

Sloane looked equally annoyed as Eric, the both of them keeping their mouths shut.

“I left you a care package in your office,” said Dean with a smile. “If you don’t want to wear my jersey that is.”

“I think I might be inclined. Wouldn’t want people thinking we’re together or anything.”

“Pft. God no,” he teased, Eric rolling his eyes. Dean kissed you quickly before going to Eric, throwing his arm over his shoulders. “Come on, buddy. You can help me pick out my outfit to walk into the stadium. Now I’m thinking a Princess of Pop tour t-shirt…”

Eric sighed as they headed out, the door closing softly behind them.

“You can go back to your morning coffee,” you said, Sloane picking up a black mug on the island. You held yours with both hands, sipping slowly.

“Why did you want me to stay here?” she asked, a little cold for your liking.

“Because I want to talk to you alone,” you said, going to the backdoor, opening the slider. You motioned and she followed with her mug, the two of you sitting in the early dusk light on the patio.

“You will never convince me to forgive Eric so don’t even try.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You felt her stare but resisted the urge to look at her. “I could tell you how he has regrets and guilt and he believes you’re so much better at the job than him but you already know that. I know you don’t care. All I wanted to say was…I understand loving someone so completely and then they hurt you in a way that, even though you still love them, it’ll never be the same. There will always be pain there. And you want to stop loving them or you want to find a way to forgive, one or the other but you fucking can’t and it just…sucks.”

You sat in silence for a minute, only the sound of a few coffee slurps in the cool morning air before Sloane finally drew a deep breath.

“I know you’ll understand this because you’re a strong woman. Not the way I know how to deal with weapons or threats but you’re strong. You built a goddamn empire by yourself and you get rid of the shitheads without a second glance. I know you’re like Dean in a way too and yet you keep on going.” You turned your head, the tip of her nose pink in the soft light, a glimmer of wetness in her eyes. “Sometimes you don’t want to be strong. You just want your person to be there and hold you and make you feel safe and like you can fall apart. I know you understand that because I see your face when you’re with Dean and I see how no one will ever be able to protect you the way Dean will.”

You nodded, reaching over to her chair and holding her cold hand.

“I was so hurt and I just needed Eric to sit there and hold me. It’s all I needed and he couldn’t do it. He was so caught up in his own guilt, which it wasn’t his fault we had bad intel in the first place which he fucking knows, but he was so wrapped up in his head he couldn’t be there for me. He couldn’t see past his pain and see that I needed him more in that moment. Could you imagine the worst day of your life and Dean is right there, ten feet away, and he won’t come to you? All you want is him and he leaves you on your own?”

“Men are idiots,” you said quietly, Sloane laughing dryly.

“Fucking preach,” she sniffled, closing her eyes. “And then he got me fired. I understand why, I fucking do because in his fucking little moronic man brain that was how he stopped me from getting hurt ever again. But all he did was made me lose the two things I was fucking good at, fucking loved, in the span of a week. He made decisions about my life for me and that is not okay.”

“Eric’s been known to be a fucking idiot on occassion,” you said, offering a smile. She nodded, breathing deeply to look out over the yard. “Why do you two keep screaming at each other?”

“He tries to apologize and I don’t want to hear it. It will never be good enough. He stole a part of my soul and it’s never coming back,” she whispered. “The worst part is I look at him and I still love him. But I know what he’s capable of and I won’t do that to myself again.”

You rubbed the back of her hand, Sloane smiling over at you. “Dean and I are getting serious. There’s a chance…real serious. Someday our security might not be so separate anymore. I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Eric’s soul is fucked up too and I’d love nothing more than to see you two somehow work it out. But if you never did and if it hurts too much, I want you to tell me and we will find a way where you two will never interact. You will not lose your job because I am dating your protectee and you have the shitty luck of your sort of ex being my guard. I promise.” Sloane watched you, nodding her head.

“I see why Dean’s in love with you,” she said. “You are tenacious under that sweet little pop princess guise.”

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing,” you said. “Kinda like you. I bet you know how to fuck people up big time.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, taking a sip from her drink. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for being decent.” You closed your eyes, yawning loudly instead. “There’s some spare rooms at the far end of the house. You can pick one for if you stay over again, keep some personal things there.”

She nodded, neither of you saying a word for a good ten minutes as you watched the sun slowly try to poke it’s head out over the trees.

“Would you be able to forgive Dean if he did what Eric had?” Her voice was small, unsure. You finished off your coffee, resting the ceramic against your bare thigh.

“Sloane.” You waited until she was looking at you, a slight crinkle in her forehead. “Eric was a fucking asshole for what he did. But I know how protective of me he is. Seeing you hurt and him thinking it was his fault? It broke him. He probably wanted you to hold him in that moment as much as you wanted it except he hated himself so much he ran. It was the wrong move but he can’t change it. Let him go or find a way to forgive him.”

You stood up, stretching up on your tip toes.

“Come on, no more silly men talk,” you said, taking her hand and yanking her up. “Let’s go pick out our outfits for the game.”

“Uh, what?” she asked, letting you tug her along after you.

“You’re sitting with me in the box. You think I’m going to meet my boyfriend's family for the first time by myself? No way. You’re protecting my ass today and that includes awkward situations.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” she sighed.

You showed up to the stadium after an early lunch with Sloane. It’d taken a bit of work to get her to talk about anything besides security protocols but she’d warmed up to you by the time the morning was through.

Offering her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast hadn’t hurt either.

And you absolutely loved your surprise from Dean. It was an old school letter man jacket for the Wolves. Original. You didn’t even want to know how much he’d paid for it.

Eric had texted multiple times that Dean was annoying the shit out of him but you had a feeling they were starting to become friends when Dean texted that he was leaving you for his new bestie Eric.

Y/N: Cool with me. You take Eric. I got dibs on Sloane. She’s actually hot when you get her out of that awful pantsuit.

Dean: YOU GOT HER TO CHANGE??? I’ve been trying for years! Also, no. I get both of them. Throuple all the way

Y/N: You want to be in a throuple with those two? We should check you for a concussion babe.

Dean: Good call. I’ll settle for you.

Y/N: Settle? And I wore my new jacket and everything for you!

Dean: Well you didn’t say that lol. Btw I told Eric he doesn’t have to hang out with me all day. I’m in the locker room, nice and safe. Shockingly, he didn’t listen to me.

Y/N: That’s cause he gets paid to listen to me, not you.

Dean: Why does that not surprise me? I have to run to a team meeting and then prep. Have fun and I’ll see you after the game to make our cake for Max!

Y/N: Be safe!

Dean: I’ll do my best!

“Are you ready?” asked Sloane as you crowded into a service elevator. You hummed, shoving your phone in your shorts pocket, taking a deep breath. “His parents are kind people. I wouldn’t be nervous.”

“Force of habit,” you said, Sloane raising an eyebrow but she didn’t say anything else. Honestly there was no way it was going to be more awkward than when your parents showed up for a few days tomorrow. They always visited for Max’s birthday week but they didn’t talk about him and instead spent most of the time going out to eat, shopping or hanging out in your pool.

Ironically, it was great for your creativity when you were forced to hide away in the studio for days on end to escape the tension. Last year you’d written three songs in the span of four days. One of them was still in the top forty nearly six months after it’s release.

“The Winchesters live in LA. Perhaps if things go smoothly, the parents can meet when yours get in,” said Sloane. You raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a little fast to introduce them to each other, don’t you think?”

“Just a thought,” she hummed, clasping her hands behind her back as the door opened. The hallway was sparse, a thick lump in your throat when you walked past some people in the corridor and got stares. “I’m not the only security on this floor.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

“I know. Stating a fact simply,” she said, stopping outside a gray door with a number 15 on it. You readied yourself and slipped inside, finding around a dozen or so people inside already.

“Hey!” said a young woman, probably college age if you had to guess. “I’m making margaritas. You guys want one?”

“On duty, Casey,” said Sloane, the woman’s bright blue eyes turning to you.

“Uh sure,” you said, Casey shooting you a thumbs up and grabbing another red cup from where she worked at the back counter.

“Benny’s youngest sister,” said Sloane in your ear as you gave a few nods and smiles to people who caught your eye but returned their attention to their own conversations quickly enough. All the while Sloane was giving you the play by play of who they were.

Apparently Benny had a pretty big family. It wasn’t until you even made it past the food and drinks to the seats that you made it through all of them. Which meant the lone couple already in seats in the front row must have been Dean’s parents.

“You must be Y/N!” said an older blonde, shooting up from her seat and climbing the steps. She wrapped you up in a big hug, surprising you so much you just stood there. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Dean’s mom. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Don’t run her off yet, Mary. Dean’ll kill us,” teased an older handsome man. It was quiet obvious where Dean’s good looks came from. He picked you up in a bone crushing hug, squeezing you tight. “Hey, kiddo. I’m John.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said as he set you down on your feet. “Dean gets his hugs from you guys it seems.”

“We’re big huggers,” said Mary, Sloane saying a quick hello to them both before taking a seat in the second row beside one of Benny’s uncles. “I am so sorry I scared you. You must get that a lot.”

“No, you’re fine. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you said, rubbing your left arm, glancing at the field. “Watching the game from up here is cool, huh?”

“Sure,” said John, his tone making you look back at him. His dark eyes were relaxed, sympathetic almost. “The cameras will be on our box probably more than once to catch a glimpse of you. Try to relax and have fun.”

“What John is trying to say is,” said Mary, taking both your hands in hers, “We are really happy to meet you. Dean’s always carried a guilt inside of him and we’ve seen that ease over the past month. We know it’s because of you that he’s finally allowing himself to be happy again. So thank you.”

“He makes me happy too,” you said quietly, offering her a small smile. John threw his arm over your shoulders, your head turning up.

“Good. So stop being nervous and let’s have some of those margaritas to get to know each other over, okay?”

It was the end of the fourth quarter, the two minute warning ongoing and the Wolves were up by two touchdowns. And as much fun as you had watching Dean play, you’d spent the better part of the game talking with his parents. You already liked John when he asked what you did for a living and asked if you were hoping to make a career out of music. While he was silly, Mary was a complete mother hen over you, always making sure you had enough to eat and drink. It was refreshing to hear them talk about Sam openly. Max was such a touchy subject in your family but they were practically giddy telling you about how Sam had mercilessly teased Dean about the girl in the orange sneakers.

“That boy is looking down laughing his fucking ass off at his brother that he was right about it taking a decade to land a girl like you,” laughed John.

“C-Can I ask you guys a personal question?” They both turned in their seats, giving you their full attention. “Why did…when you don’t have a concrete answer…how’d you decide to say he was…”

“We understand,” said Mary, taking your hand. “Honestly? We took a look at the facts and the evidence we had about what happened to Sam. We understood most likely which ring took him and after a certain age, we know what they do to those boys. So we won’t ever know for sure but we know all we’ll ever be able to and those facts told us Sam’s not here anymore.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision but it’s one we decided as a family. Dean doesn’t agree with us but we respect his choice too. It wasn’t so much about having a funeral for us but more symbolic, an attempt for us to stop living in a grieving limbo and turn Sam’s life into a celebration for the time he was with us,” said John. You nodded, swallowing thickly as you glanced down. John rubbed your back, his heavy hand comforting. “Whatever choice your parents made, it was not an easy one.”

“They won’t talk about him anymore,” you whispered. “S’like Max didn’t exist.”

“The pain is excruciating,” he said. “Don’t blame them for trying to ease it. For a very long time Dean only talked about Sam to a few people. But even if they won’t, it doesn’t mean you can’t. We’d like to know about Max if you ever wanted to share.”

You smiled and nodded, getting a side hug from Mary as the last of the game clock ticked away.

“We weren’t so bad, were we?” asked Mary, John chuckling deeply beside you.

“I think Y/N’s put up with tougher shit than the two of us,” he laughed. “But it was very nice to meet orange sneaker girl finally.”

“You guys were great. I’d like to have you over for dinner sometime when we figure out a day that works,” you said, Sloane tapping your shoulder.

“We need to go downstairs before there’s too many people out there. Now,” she said. You stood up, surprised to find John right behind you. “John-”

“I’m an ex-soldier just like you. If you have a problem with me going with you, you can respectfully kiss my ass, Sloane.” You turned to Mary, an apologetic smile on her face.

“I can’t say I disagree with him going,” she said, Sloane rolling her eyes.

“Fine. Cover her behind,” said Sloane, quickly jogging up the steps. You said quick goodbyes to Benny’s family and were out in the now crowded hall, Sloane barking orders at five different security guards that were by the door.

“I’m sorry. I should have brought my team,” you said even though no one responded. Except for John that was.

“We can blame the fucking broadcast network for alerting everyone to exactly where you were,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders, walking behind you. Thankfully you got through the hoard of people quickly and to the service elevator, John slipping inside with you and Sloane.

“So this is one of the perks of being a celebrity,” said John as he took in the grimy elevator.

“You don’t really get used to it,” you said, John crossing his arms.

“Yeah, you’re too sweet a kid to actually like that shit,” he said, the door dinging and opening slowly. You followed Sloane out, John still on your heels much to her annoyance. “What?”

“What the fuck is happening?” snapped Eric as you rounded a corner, quickly getting in Sloane’s face. “You took her out of a secure room with fucking rent a cops?”

“Don’t you fucking start,” she shot back, John looking to you.

“It’s not you she’s pissed at,” you whispered, stepping between the two of them in a service hallway. “Fight later. I want to see Dean and I would like it if one of you could go back upstairs and escort Mary out of the box please.”

“You should have waited for me, Sloane,” growled Eric, grabbing your arm roughly, yanking you to his side. “Do as she asked and we need to have a serious discussion regarding Y/N’s safety if-”

“First off, stop fucking hurting me,” you said, ripping your arm away, Eric spotting the growning bruise and frowning. “Second, our security protocol says as long as we have two trained agents, we can use readily available security to move me. John is an ex-marine, like you, so Sloane was perfectly fine to move me. I was not in any danger. Now one of you please go get Mary.”

“I’ll go. She doesn’t know him,” said Sloane, bumping him on her way back to the elevator. Eric closed his eyes and sighed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I just-”

“I know. It wasn’t normal. We’ll bring the team from now on,” you said, waving a hand forward. “Let’s go.”

John leaned down to your ear, the two of you following after Eric. “Are these the two that are in love?”

You hummed, John chuckling.

“Five bucks they end up fucking by the end of November.”

“October,” you said, John extending his hand and shaking yours.

“You’re on pop princess,” he teased, Eric gritting his teeth as he opened a door to reveal more people. It looked like some family members were hanging out in the hall and about twenty minutes later a door popped open, a few players walking out, Dean one of them.

“Hey!” he said, rushing over and picking you up in a spinning hug. “Did you have a good time? Were my parents okay?”

“Oh they were awful,” you said as you turned towards John.

“She’s terrible, truly terrible,” said John, not even able to hide his laugh. “Of course we like her you idiot. You think we were going to waterboard her or something?”

“No, just…shut up,” said Dean, pecking a kiss on your lips, the smell of pine in the air from his very recent shower. “I’m glad you guys got along.”

“I invited your parents to dinner sometime,” you said, Dean happy to hear that.

He had to run off to a post-game interview which gave Sloane enough time to bring Mary down. You chatted with them more while you waited, Eric and Sloane choosing to spend the time by watching opposite ends of the hall. It was another twenty minutes before Dean returned and he gave both his parents big hugs, catching up with them for a few minutes.

Finally after what seemed like another half hour, you were alone with Dean in his SUV, the two of you headed for home.

“So how’d it really go with my parents?” he asked, talking hold of your hand across the center console. You smiled out the window, his large thumb running over the back of your hand.

“They’re good people.” You tilted your head against the glass, closing your eyes. “I’m jealous.”

“We can share,” he said quietly.

“I’d like that.”

One Hour Later

The kitchen was an absolute mess. Cake mix covered nearly every surface, including you and Dean. Someone, Dean, hadn’t locked the head on the mixer. That someone had also turned it on full blast and absolutely whipped every single ingredient in the bowl out in a ten foot radius.

And you were laughing so hard looking at his chocolate covered face you were hit with the realization you hadn’t laughed on Max’s birthday in over a decade.

Dean was giggling as you stopped, concern filling his eyes when you stepped forward. “Hey, what’s-”

You grabbed his wet cheeks and planted a harsh kiss on him, Dean backing up against the fridge, letting you move you lips roughly against his. It wasn’t gentle. It was needy, Dean’s hands wrapping around your waist, holding your body to his.

You breathed hard when you felt light headed, Dean panting when he stared down.

“You’re mine,” you said, grasping his chin. He nodded, his warm breath pooling over your face. “Come wash up with me.”

“After you, sweetheart.”

It took another two hours but you finally had clean bodies, a clean kitchen, and a frosted chocolate cake sat on the island. Dean worked on slicing you each up a piece as you finished with a simple pasta dish for dinner, all the while your heart hammered in your chest. Something felt different. A good different. Like you weren’t so afraid of moving so fast anymore.

You carried the pasta and dessert into your dining room, settling in at your usual spot, Dean sitting beside you at the head of the table.

“Happy birthday, Max, wherever you are,” said Dean, rising his glass of wine, clinking it to yours when you smiled.

“I’m going to keep you, you know,” you said to him, Dean smirking. “Sweet boy.”

“Lucky me,” he said, leaning over, kissing you sweetly for the briefest of moments.

“Me too, Dean.”

??? POV

“The Wolves keep this up and they’ll be a shoo in for the playoffs,” said Sebastian as he spoke on the phone to his brother, watching sports center late that night. I set his beer down on a coaster on the end table, taking away the empty. “One sec.”

He covered the phone with his hand, glancing up at me.

“Is Cecilia’s lunch prepared for tomorrow?”

“Yes sir. Soccer uniform is also washed and ready in her sports bag,” I said, Sebastian nodding in approval.

“Good. Take care of that and you’re excused for the rest of the night.”

“Yes sir,” I said, nodding before leaving him in his man cave and heading for the kitchen. I had just finished rinsing out the bottle when I heard soft footsteps enter, the fridge door opening.

“Is dad still on the phone?” asked the young voice, shutting the door with a sigh.

“Yes, Miss Cecilia,” I said, drying off the bottle and placing it in the recycling bin under the sink. “Would you like me to prepare you anything?”

“No. I just want some chocolate,” she said, opening the pantry and grabbing a fistful of dove chocolate squares. “Want one?”

“No thank you,” I said.

“Well if you had a period, you’d want one too,” she said, tearing off the wrapper and popping a whole one in her mouth. “I can’t believe I have to deal with fucking cramps for the next thirty years. Minimum.”

“Language,” said Sebastian, walking in, finally off the phone. “And don’t discuss your menstruation with other people. It’s not classy.”

“Don’t even start,” she said to him, taking a permission slip out of her pocket. “Can you sign the stupid thing already?”

I attempted to leave but Sebastian held up a hand, my feet planting firmly in place. “I think you’re too young to be going on a week long trip.”

“I’m fourteen, dad. My body is literally, as we speak, expelling shit from me because there isn’t a baby in there. So I’m old enough to make human life but not go on a fucking school trip?” she asked. Sebatian looked at me and I wished I could run away. I knew how this would fucking end.

“Wouldn’t you agree fourteen is too young to go?” he asked. I didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes sir. Miss Cecilia will have plenty of other opportunities to travel when she is older,” I said. Sebastian crossed his arms at his daughter. Cecilia responded by twitching her eye in rage.

That was one of the reasons I liked that kid. She didn’t give two fucks how rich and powerful her father was.

“You did this same exact thing when you said I could go to the Y/N Y/L/N concert in the summer and then you turned around and said I couldn’t! Stop talking out of both sides of your mouth.”

“Excuse me?” said Sebastian, raising his voice. “You went to that fucking concert with all your little friends. VIP tickets I paid for if I recall.”

“You said I could go by myself and then my fucking dad shows up-”

“I was not letting a group of six barely teenagers go to a concert by themselves.”

“Your security was with us! It’s not like we were alone!” She shot back.

“You are still too young-”

“Asshole!” she shouted, grabbing the paper and throwing one of the chocolates at his face. “I’ll get mom to sign it when I’m at her house then.” She stormed off and upstairs, slamming doors as she went.

“Be glad you don’t have a fucking hormonal teenage daughter,” sighed Sebastian, picking up the chocolate and tossing it to me. “Retire to your quarters for the night.”

“Yes sir,” I said, going to the pantry and putting the chocolate away.

“Go on,” he said, my head whipping over my shoulder. “You can have one for putting up with her bullshit.”

“Thank you sir,” I said, grasping two in the bag, hiding them in my fist as I pulled it out. I left him in the kitchen before heading through the butler’s pantry and to a plain door. I entered the room with two double beds, nightstands, a desk and bookshelf. I bypassed the door to the bathroom and headed for the closet, stepping inside and shutting the one after myself.

I sighed and went to the door on the far side, opening it and stepping into the open room. I shut this door too and ripped off the fucking tie around my neck. “I hate that motherfucking asshole.”

“Not going to disagree.” I sat down on the twin mattress beside my sole friend in this god awful place. His head was buried in a book, one he must have read fifteen times by now. “I made stew. Ready to eat whenever you are.”

“Let me wash up quick.” I shoved the chocolates under my pillow and grabbed a pile of semi-clean clothes, going to the corner of the room and pulling the curtain shut of our makeshift bathroom. My shower was fast like it always was and in five minutes I was changed into sweats and a t-shirt, walking barefoot against the cool concrete over to the table where a camping stove housed our stew in a pot.

“So how was your day dear?” he joked as my stomach grumbled at the smell.

“Oh just lovely,” I said, dishing us each up half into a bowl, carrying them over along with a pair of spoons. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he said, putting his book aside before taking the bowl, setting it on the floor in front of him.

“Hey,” I said before he could start eating. I reached under my pillow and grabbed the chocolates, holding them out to him, his eyes wide. “Don’t worry. I had permission. Well for one but I figured I could get away with it.”

“I haven’t had chocolate in fucking forever,” he said as I dropped them in his hand, his free one instantly grabbing my wrist and shoving one back in mine. “We share. You haven’t had it in forever either.”

I nodded, each of us quickly eating our dinner before unwrapping our dessert, clinking them together with a quiet laugh. “It’s not much but-”

“Thanks, Sam. It’s great,” he said, taking a small nibble, savoring it. “Really fucking great.”

“Happy birthday, Max,” I said, biting into my own, enjoying the first rush of sugar in ages. We ate in silence, finished much too soon. I took care of the dishes and joined Max again, a strange little smile on his face. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you see any of the Wolves game today?” he asked.

“Just a little at the end. Why, Dean get a touchdown again or something?” I asked, Max smirking. “What?”

“My sister was at the game. Apparently she and Dean are fucking dating.” My eyes went wide, Max nodding. “They’re together. Isn’t that some kind of twist of fate or some shit?”

A spark of an idea shot through me. It was barely there but shit it was the first good idea I’d had in years on how to get out of this fucking shithole.

“What are you scheming?” asked Max quietly, even if this was the one room in this whole house where there were no cameras, the one room where security wasn’t constantly watching us.

We’d learned too many fucking times over the past decade that any of our escape attempts were dead on arrival. We knew we needed outside help and while we’d contemplated enlisting Ceclia knowing she’d be revolted enough by learning the truth about her father to help, it was too dangerous.

The last time we attempted an escape was seven years ago and we both still had the scars on our backs to remind us.

But if we could somehow reach out to our siblings…they were now rich and powerful enough to not be completely endangered themselves.

“Cecilia’s pissed at fuckface,” I said.

“What else is new?” asked Max as I shook my head.

“She’s extra pissed and still salty about the concert thing. Now we know fuckface is a huge fan of the Wolves and Cecilia is a big fan of your sister…we gotta find a way to get my brother and your sister here, like a party or some shit.”

“My sister doesn’t go to shit unless it’s for charity,” said Max. “According to Ceclia at least.”

“We gotta try Maxie. If we can get Dean and Y/N here at this house…we can find them and get the fuck out of dodge. But I know if we fuck this up-”

“We’re getting buried in the woods out back,” said Max, nodding once, knowing we had one last chance at this. He smiled though. We were both sick of living this way enough to take that risk. “Let’s fucking do it. Let’s get a game plan and get the fuck out of here.”

“Hell fucking yeah we are.”

___________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean x #dean x reader #football au

274 notes · View notes

lemissingmask · 7 months

Text

[ID: Sketch of Redemption-era Eliot Spencer lying on the floor on his back with his back arched and neck muscles tensed, grimacing as a collar around his neck lights up, giving him an electric shock. End ID]

Day 8: alt. Electrocution

Eliot being tortured with a shock collar as a cheeky little bonus for Day 8

Ficlet below the cut

“Move and we shoot.”

The voice was nearly as cold as the barrel of the gun pressed against Harry’s head.

Eliot froze.

He was several metres away, where he had guided the fight to keep Harry out of it.

And now he was too far away to get to him, to do his thing and make this guy with a gun go away.

“Frank,” Eliot didn’t growl, but his voice was hard and even more threatening than this Frank guy with a gun’s was, “Let ‘im go.”

“You don’t get to make demands here, Spencer,” Frank replied, “Now stay still. You know I won’t hesitate.”

Eliot glared, but he obeyed, staying perfectly motionless with his eyes on Harry.

Of the four other goons who had attacked them, two were unconscious, and one had blood pouring liberally from his nose. The remaining one, apparently following some signal from this Frank guy, moved closer to Eliot, smirking when his adversary did nothing but glare.

"Right ear," Frank said, "Comm unit. Take it out and smash it."

The gun shoved against Harry's head.

"You too, Wilson."

Harry slowly raised his hand, extracted the earbud and held it out. Frank took it, dropped it, and stamped, presumably crushing the comm as thoroughly as the other hitter had crushed Eliot's a short distance away.

"Phone," Frank demanded, and as he accepted Harry's phone, instructed his colleague, "Check him for phone and weapons. Spencer usually has a knife or two stashed somewhere."

And Eliot did.

As Harry watched, still held in place by the gun to his head, the other hitter retrieved a pocket knife, a multitool and too throwing knives from Eliot, as well as his phone. He tossed all this away, shot the phone with a loud crack that made Harry jump and Frank laugh.

By now, one of the others had woken up and the nosebleed of the other guy had been stemmed enough for him to get involved, which he did with evident relish.

"Get the collar on him," Frank ordered, the hand not holding the gun coming to grip Harry's arm, twisting it up behind him, "Watch closely, Wilson. This is the fun bit."

As if Harry had a choice but to watch.

Eliot remained fixed in place, his attention on Frank and Harry, as two of the other men roughly fixed a rigid collar around his neck, yanking his hair out the way and making a point of briefly choking him as they pulled the contraption on. And, it was a contraption. Not just a collar. There was a box on one side of it with a little red light.

Smacking Eliot unnecessarily on the back of the head as they finished, the other hitters stepped back, one pulled out his phone, and then, suddenly, Eliot tensed, teeth gritting, and dropped to his knees, as the collar light turned blue.

Harry instinctively made a move like he might run forward, try to help, but the grip on his arm grew tighter and more painful and the gun knocked against his head.

"Shock collar," Frank said with a smile as the light turned red and Eliot was left breathing heavily on the floor, "Made special just for Spencer."

The light went on again, longer, bringing Eliot all the way to the floor.

"Do exactly as your told, or we'll see how long it takes for that thing to kill him."

With those words, the gun was removed, but almost immediately, there was darkness. A rough, imperfect, darkness. A bag thrown over his head, and two strong forms on either side were half-dragging Harry away.

Out of the building, into a vehicle, the same guys who had been dragging him pressed close on either side.

They didn't drive for very long - not more than an hour, but long enough and with enough turns that it wouldn't be easy for the others to track them from their last location. And they had to be on the way by now. Hardison and Breanna would have used the earbud GPS before they were destroyed, or maybe be tracking their phones.

There would be a Brick and Basil truck en route to where they had just been, and hopefully soon after to wherever they were going now.

When they finally stopped, Harry was manhandled once more, bringing him across a hard floor, into another building, an elevator, and then, at last, into a wooden chair.

The bag was whipped off, and across from him, behind a large, fake mahogany desk, was a man he knew perfectly well.

"Austin," Harry greeted, adopting the false pleasantry he always did with clients, "I'd love to say it was a pleasure, but..."

He nodded to the goons stood either side, taking that motion as a chance to look for Eliot.

Not in this room. A small office with two doors, the desk, some chairs, a mini fridge, and a large conference TV screen.

A bit of a downgrade from this former client's upmarket business address with its tropical fish tank and wet bar.

"Harry Wilson," the man smiled coldly, "You're a hard man to find."

Harry shrugged noncommittally, "What do you want, Austin?"

"I need you to do a job for me. I have a certain legal matter that needs taking care of, and the lawyer I had hired is, quite frankly, not worth the air he breaths. I need you to make an airtight case for me and present it in court," he pushed a pile of documents across the desk, "Everything you need is here. You have three days. This office..."

"No," Harry cut him off. He had worked for this guy before. He had helped him cover his tracks after he destroyed the lives of several of his workers and interns, leading to the suicide of one. This man was one of the long list of regrets burdening Harry's mind. He was two bullet points on the redemption list.

Harry would not work for him again.

"I expected you may say that," Austin stood, walked around the desk towards the screen. The goons rotated Harry's chair, forcing him to turn to watch.

"That's why I have invested in this incentive."

He used a small remote to turn the screen on, and after a second of blackness, a video feed was displayed, showing Eliot with his hands handcuffed to a metal loop fixed to the floor. It looked like a basement, but it was difficult to tell.

Austin pulled out his phone, and a few seconds later, that collar glowed blue again, electrocuting Eliot as he knelt chained to the floor.

And not just a short warning. It didn't stop. Austin wasn't going to stop unless-

"Okay!" Harry yelled, and the collar turned red, leaving Eliot unmoving on the floor, "Okay. I'll do it."

Austin smiled, "Good man. Now, as I was saying, those are the files. There's paper, pens and so on in the desk drawers. Water and food in the fridge. Bathroom through that door. You have three days."

He moved towards the door, the goons following.

"Oh, and if you fail to deliver..."

On the screen, Eliot was subjected to another shock, his body tensing, but nothing more. Harry wasn't even sure he was conscious.

"These gentlemen," Austin nodded to the goons, "Will wait outside. Their colleagues will be with Spencer."

He left, the door was locked, and the screen was left turned on, Eliot still not moving.

Harry spent about an hour searching the office and bathroom for anything that could be useful to escape. Weapons, air vent...anything.

But, predictably, there was nothing. And, even if there had been something, if Harry made an attempt, there were still those other hitters with Eliot, and no way Harry could get there in time to save him.

Harry was just going to have to play along for now. Get to work, start building a case...as a last resort, he would do what Austin asked. He would pull out all the past evil lawyer tricks, hopefully then get Eliot and himself back to safety, and Leverage could deal with the aftermath.

But that was a worst case.

Hardison, Breanna, Parker and Sophie would definitely find them before that. They had three days, and a collective set of skills beyond anything Harry had known or imagined before meeting them.

Three days was more than enough time for Leverage to track people down.

Harry kept this in mind as he spent the first day, working at the case, trying to ignore the itching of his conscience.

There was one moment, towards the end of that day, that robbed Harry of all his forced focus.

He hadn’t expected to see Eliot being treated well, but without cause - Harry had been doing as he had been told - two of the hitters from before had entered the room to amuse themselves.

Harry had no way to contact anyone. He couldn’t get to Austin to convince him to make them stop, refusing to work unless they did. But he didn’t really have the leverage. They were hurting Eliot, but not killing him, and it was within Austin’s power to let them do so.

Harry watched until the hitters disappeared from view and Eliot was left unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head from the repeated blows they’d delivered to his face.

And, facing the screen so he could see when Eliot woke up, Harry turned on the desk lamp and resumed the arduous task of figuring out how to help the rich and powerful crush those they had wronged.

He had no awareness of falling asleep. At some point, near midnight, he lay his head on his arms, just to try and let his eyes rest…just a bit.

He woke to a hand on his shoulder, a whispered voice in his ear.

“Harry.”

It was Eliot, crouched beside his chair, watching him with evident concern.

The collar was still on, and in places it was shining with blood that seemed to come from Eliot's lip and cheek. The handcuffs were on, but the chain between them broken, links draping on Harry’s shoulder.

"Harry," he repeated as Harry was still registering the situation and deciding whether or not it was a dream, "You alright?"

The hand on his arm was very real. Strong and familiar. And Harry probably couldn't accurately dream the fine details of the collar that he could see now up close.

Harry broke into a smile, "Better now. You're a good person to be kidnapped with."

That drew a small laugh from the hitter, his teeth showing bloody, "Ain't my first rodeo. You good to go?”

Harry nodded and quickly began gathering up all the documents on the case - it could come in handy later.

“What’s that?” Eliot nodded to the folder.

“The reason we’re here,” Harry replied, “And better off in our hands than his.”

“Former client?”

Harry wasn’t sure how Eliot knew, but they didn’t really have time to get into that, so he just nodded and followed Eliot towards the door.

"We have an exit?"

"We're gonna make one."

"What about..."

The collar.

Eliot had stood and moved to the door already, was looking out into the corridor.

"Looks like only some of the guards can set it off," Eliot replied quietly, "Took out the four who grabbed us. Hopefully we don' run into any others, but if we do..."

He paused, looking back at Harry.

"If we do an' I'm incapacitated, you gotta run."

"I can't just leave..."

"Yeah you can," Eliot tapped his arm and moved towards the door, not allowing any further arguments.

Harry followed closely, trusting Eliot to know when to freeze and when to move, and they managed to get into a stairwell without meeting any guards. Their luck ended there, but only for a moment or two. Only for as long as it took for Eliot to disarm and knock out the three guards they met as they moved down ten flights of stairs, and out into a carport.

No one there. Cameras, but no people, and no cars.

"What now?" Harry whispered, "You know where we are?"

"No. We gotta get somewhere crowded. Somewhere with people," Eliot replied, "We can lift a phone an' call the others."

"I don't think we need to," Harry smiled as he saw a familiar set of headlights approaching from the other direction. Eliot turned and broke into his own smile, bloody toothed, but just as relieved as Harry's.

As if summoned by willpower alone, a Brick and Basil truck stopped just outside the building. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if there had been some sort of planned dramatic entrance that culminated in such a welcome and timely appearance.

But they didn’t exit immediately in a dramatic, heroic manner. They were still inside the truck, probably planning their entrance, hadn't seen Harry and Eliot, based on the various screams, gasps, and almost punch that were thrown their way when Eliot opened the back doors.

"And here we busted our asses trying to get here quick as hell," Hardison complained teasingly, grabbing Eliot into a hug as they entered, "Coulda stayed in bed."

"Everyone okay?" Sophie asked, looking them both over, "Breanna? Can we get whatever that is off Eliot?"

"On it..." she immediately began inspecting the collar, while Parker picked the handcuffs, muttering something about more lock picking practice, and keeping hold of Eliot's hand for longer than necessary.

Harry was grateful for the cup of coffee Sophie produced and shoved into his hands, ushering him into the front with her so Hardison could set off driving, getting them the hell out of there.

"Who took you?" she asked.

"Former client," Harry said, drinking the coffee down more quickly than he should, "Wanted me to do a case for him, and used Eliot as leverage."

"Someone we need to take out?" Hardison asked.

Harry considered.

The court case would probably lead to twenty five years in jail if Austin lost...the man was practically already taken out as it was. Provided he lost the case. Harry knew who the prosecution team were, he knew the case, he had more than enough information in the folder alone…

Harry smiled, "I think I will take him out myself."

And he would make sure the team, especially Eliot, were at the trial. After all, they needed The Gloat.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #leverage redemption #eliot spencer #whump #cw electrocution #cw torture #Day 8: alt. Electrocution

117 notes · View notes

fablesrose · 7 months

Text

Leverage Rewrite Ch 1 - Phone Calls

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Words: 3054

Summary: We are introduced to y/n Ford and her relationship with Nate through some phone calls. Takes place directly after the Bank Shot Job and goes through most of season 1.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, canon level stuff

A/n: okay, so I may be up over my head on this one, but here it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of my lackluster concentration. I enjoyed freelancing, I really did, but this job was just not coming along like I wanted it to. I couldn’t even drag my eyes off my laptop to see who was calling me. It was always work related though.

“This is y/n Ford, how can I help you?” I made sure to turn on my best chipper voice, though I could tell my perplexed expression didn’t change.

“Don’t use your customer service voice on me, y/n.” The voice was very familiar and I sighed in relief, turning away from my computer.

“Oh, hey Nate. I didn’t look at the phone, I thought it was work… How are you doing?”

“That’s alright, I’m doing fine. I saw that you called a little while ago, I’m sorry it took awhile, I was working a job.” He sounded tired, but different than the last few times I had talked to him.

“Yeah, I just hadn’t heard from you for a bit, but a job? I didn’t know you were working again. How has that been going? What are you doing?”

It was good that he was getting out and doing things again. He had been in a deep rut since he left I.Y.S and got divorced. And of course since Sam… passed. It has only seemed to get worse after that. I have tried to check in with Nate at least every couple months, more frequently when possible. Sometimes he doesn’t get back to me for a while, which seemed to be the case here. I’ve been worried about him, but maybe this will lead him to the up and up.

“Uh, I’m not sure if I can explain what I’m doing right now, birdie. It uh, it's a bit complicated and maybe more dangerous than you would like…” He sighed, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was giving a slight wince at what he said. I smiled, both at hearing him call me the nickname he had given me years ago, as well as his conscientiousness of my feelings.

“Well, I hope you can tell me about it sometime. Are you happy doing it?”

He thought about it for a minute, “yeah, I am. I get to help people.”

“Are you alone? Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got people.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. I still worry some, but you’re a grown man, you can take care of yourself… or should I say old man?” I smirked, knowing that it would bother him a bit.

He barked out half a laugh, “I’ll let that one go. I’m glad you worry about me… You know you’re my favorite niece right?”

It was my turn to laugh sarcastically. “I’m your only niece. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Okay.”

I set the phone down after he hung up. Nate practically raised me. My parents died when I was a kid, an accident, and he was the only family I had left… Or the best family I had left. Grandad Jimmy barely counts. Even with my parents around I was always close with Nate, he always had little puzzles to teach me or games to play. I knew it was hard on him, to take care of me, but we had each other, and it got better. We both had to grow up fast, and when Maggie and then Sam came along, it seemed like the world was giving back a little bit. We were a happy family for a while. I graduated, moved out into the real world, and tried to be to Sam what Nate was to me. It all came crashing down. Nate had his own process though. This was worse than when my parents died, understandably, but I knew he was the only one that could work himself out of it. I try to let him.

My eyes flipped back to my computer from where they were staring at the abandoned phone on the table. I can’t afford to reminisce any longer, I have deadlines to keep.

—---

Across the country, Nate absentmindedly tapped his phone against his knee, thinking. He gingerly moved his right shoulder, trying not to test his stitches too much. The team had just finished up the bank shot job. He knew he needed to take it easy while he healed up from his gunshot wound, but he could feel a slight itch to keep going in the back of his head. To take his mind off of it, he looked back at his phone, thinking of y/n.

He did miss her. Nate knew he had been distant recently and that she worried about him. He felt awful when he thought too hard about it. Here his niece was, worrying about him, a grown man, the one who raised her, who should be worrying about her. It made him want to reach for a drink. The truth was, he didn’t worry about her. Not often anyway. She was every bit of her parents, something Nate was glad for. His older brother was always the better one, he thought. He would have never become… Never become what Nate had, under the circumstances.

He didn’t know what y/n would think about what Nate was doing now. He didn’t want to leave her in the dark, they had always worked together through Nate’s changing careers and her own progression through life. He also knew that this work was dangerous. Nate winced as the stitches pulled a bit as he shifted. He didn’t want her to worry about him more, or worse, get caught up in it if she didn’t have to.

Nate went to pour himself a drink before heading back to rest. He set his phone down at his bedside table, looking at it for a moment longer.

He would find a way to tell her somehow.

—----

It was about a month later when I was getting ready for bed that I got an email to my personal account. I usually don’t check emails this late, but it was from Nate.

Hey birdie, I know it’s late over there and you probably don’t want to work, but I have this script that I need to make sure is believable for an actress. Do you mind looking over it?

Attached was a pretty large file. Opening it up showed that it was around ten pages and it held two scenes. He was right, I didn’t want to, but it was Uncle Nate asking a pretty small favor. I read it through and answered.

So… the scenes themselves are decent, good pacing. Leaving the boy orphaned with the nun and mother dying will be sure to pull some tears. But the overall plot? That’s just awful, I’m sorry. Not sure how you fix that.

It wasn’t too long before I got a reply.

Good enough, thanks.

I sighed as I finished getting ready for bed. I didn’t know what in the world he was doing anymore, but at least he was still alive.

I had started to forget about the interaction when a few days later he called.

“Wow, I hear from you twice in one week? What’s the occasion?”

There was a lot of noise in the background indicating he was in a busy place, “Yeah yeah I just… I finished this job and was thinking about you, so I thought I’d call.”

I smiled, “Appreciated… Is that your job, fighting werewolves with NATO troops? Is that why it's so dangerous?”

He groaned, “Please don’t mention the script, I want to wipe that from my memory. It uh,” he paused, thinking and I could hear some background announcements like he was in an airport or train station. “I was able to help some orphans this job, and… I- I’m just glad that you were able to come live with me, that we had each other when. When your dad passed, and mom.”

I took a moment before answering, “Me too Nate…”

There was a moment of silence when I heard a deeper voice a bit further away from the phone, “Nate, come on, we gotta catch our connection. Last call.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

He said a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. It seemed like his new job was exciting, and I was interested in seeing where it took him next… If I could ever figure out what it was.

I started to look forward to his calls even more now, and they happened more frequently as well. I always speculated what little details he would drop about his most recent adventure, if he shared any at all. One call he talked about a wedding and the fiascos behind it, from a woman he worked with that seemed to peeve him at times to appetizers. He insisted that when I got married (after he asked if I wanted to) that he wouldn’t attend if it was going to be a large crap shoot like the one he was just involved with. I simply laughed, I didn’t interject more than that to ask him about it as he was in a rush and clearly exasperated.

The next phone call mentioned the same woman, of whom I learned her name was Sophie. I could tell he was still a bit peeved at her, but there was something else there as well, an interest. I smiled to myself as he talked, but didn’t mention it… yet. There were so many other questions I had about what he was doing now. I finally pried a bit more.

“Nate, come on, you’ve got to give me something. What are you doing, what is this job you are working?”

He paused like he knew it was coming, but still not prepared, “I am the lead of a… consulting team. We help people when no one else will, when no one else can.”

“Well that’s very noble of you Nathan. I’m not getting any more than that right now am I?” I laughed a little bit towards the end.

“Yeah, uh, that is it for now. I’ll tell you more about it some other time.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

The next call was not as cheerful or exciting as the previous ones. I was already coming down with a cold, and another project had hit a standstill because of the lack of cooperation of people within the client’s company. Much more of this and I would back out of the contract. Luckily my contract states that I will get paid for the work completed, not necessarily at completion, and if I have to cancel a contract due to certain circumstances such as lack of cooperation, I get to keep funds in relation to work completed as well as the deposit. In other words, it would be their loss.

I could feel I was developing a headache, but I answered the phone anyway, “Hello?”

“Heyy, how’s it going? I um… I can’t remember why I called…” There was a slight slur in his voice that I immediately picked up on.

“Nate? Are you drunk right now?” I asked accusingly, my headache getting worse.

“What? No… what time is it… maybe.”

I groaned, “Damn it… You said you were getting better. You said you would quit!”

“Hey, I never said that-”

“Am I gonna have to kick your ass to keep you around?”

There was a pause on the other end, “No, Eliot can do that, he said he would keep me in line if he had to.”

“Well…” I took a moment to collect my thoughts, “I don’t know who this Eliot character is, but hopefully he’s good on his word, cuz I don’t want to fly all the way out there for that. I’d rather you stick around for a while.”

“I know.”

I sighed knowing I wouldn’t get much farther with him right now, “Well, sober up a bit. I can’t handle much more right now Nate, I’m getting sick. We both better go get some rest.”

“You’re sick? I’ll ask around for some recipes to help you feel better.”

Before I could stop him and tell him don’t bother, he hung up. I sighed again, stopping to get my bearings before starting the trek to the bathroom to take some medicine.

I had grown a bit lax on Nate with his drinking. I made sure he didn’t drink himself to death after Sam’s death and the divorce, but once he made it to somewhat functioning, I just grew tired. There wasn’t much else I could do, so I figured he could sort himself out when he needed to. That seemed to be the case over the last couple of months. I could tell in his phone calls as they became more frequent that he was drinking less and getting better. I had exaggerated a bit when I said he promised me he would quit. I wish I had made him promise, but I guess it was just a conversation and some hope on my end.

I didn’t know the rest of his team, but I hoped they could help him, or at least keep him on this side of life. Or that he had someone to rely on out there. I felt useless here in Boston while he was out in LA. Maybe I should have moved out there when his life had gone down hill, despite his protests. I could theoretically work anywhere.

I started to slip into sleep as I thought about it. I didn’t fight it.

The next morning I woke up to an email on my phone.

Hey, I’m sorry I called you while drunk. Eliot gave me some soup recipes, hopefully they will help with the cold. Feel better birdie.

Below were the recipes promised. I looked them over, and they all looked really good, and relatively simple to make. This was good as I could feel the congestion in my head was worse than the night before and knew simple would be essential to any new meal the next couple of days. I’d like to meet this Eliot someday.

—---

Over a month later Nate sat in his chair, staring at the drink in his hand reflecting back to the last phone call he had with y/n. He was drunk, and she was clearly upset at him. He hated to admit it, but, while he didn’t want to worry her, he should have felt more guilty about it. For that reason he hasn’t talked to her since he sent that email with Eliot’s recipes.

What an unfortunate coincidence it was when he had to go into rehab with the mark for the next job. His mind kept going back to the group session they had with Sophie talking about the healing power of apologies, or something like that. She asked him if there was anyone he wanted to apologize to for burdening with his drinking problem, highly suggesting to him that he apologize to her and the team. What really got him was when she mouthed the words “like your niece?”

Maybe that’s why he blew up a little. He didn’t need her to be brought up. The fact that Sophie knew so much about him unnerved him sometimes. He thought he kept her underwraps, out of whatever mess Nate found himself in. He obviously needs to brush up on those skills.

—---

I got a somewhat urgent call from Nate, the first one since he called me drunk that night. I was gearing up for a serious talk about his drinking, boundaries, and whatnot. This did not seem to be the case.

“You’ve done mock trials before right?”

That stopped me in my tracks, “in highschool? Yeah, but that was a long time ago, what is going on?”

He explained that he was in a similar situation with him and his team. The plaintiff was a widow whose husband died from taking an energy supplement. She was suing the supplement company, but was not doing well.

“How would you win for this widow?”

I took a moment to think it over, “I mean… You have your three persuasive techniques, logical, emotional, and reputation, to paraphrase. You can either tear down the company and their arguments on these fronts and slash or build up your own. I don’t know all the data behind the supplement or if you have health records for the husband before and after the supplement, but that could help. If you want to go the dirty route you can tear down the credibility of the company and their witnesses and experts…” I hummed and hawed for a bit, still thinking. “Also considering, if this is a jury trial, play into the emotional side, get their sympathy, show that it is someone’s fault that this husband, father? Is he a father? You know, etc etc. Just keep with the triangle, logic, emotion, and credibility. Not sure what else to give you without more research or context.”

I heard a distant voice that said, “That just might work,” suggesting to me that I was on speaker phone.

Nate talked to this other guy, “see, just put on your bowtie and talk to them like you’ve been doing your whole life.” He turned back to the phone and spoke to me, “That’s perfect, thank you, bye.”

He hung up and I just stared at the phone in my hand. What kind of consulting business is this?

I got a call I wasn’t expecting one day from someone I haven’t heard from in a long time.

“Hey y/n, how have you been?”

“Maggie? I’ve been fine, just working freelancing… What’s up?” While she and Nate have been divorced for a couple of years now, she still played a role in my life as an aunt. We definitely drifted apart, but I thought we were both dear to each other.

“That’s good, I’m glad you’ve been doing okay. I do have a favor to ask you though.”

“Okay… What is it?”

“I’d imagine it’s been a while since either of us have gone to a fancy party… What do you say?”

I hated to say it, but she was right. “Tell me when and where.”

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader #maggie collins

51 notes · View notes

make-me-imagine · 1 year

Text

Not So Unrequited Love

Plot: Eliot seems to be happy with his new relationship with U.S. Marshall Maria Shipp. All the while, Y/n, who has had feelings for Eliot for years, watches. After an overheard conversation, Eliot learns just how stupid he has been.

Requests: Reader is jealous of Maria + “You said you wouldn't fall in love with me." "I lied."

Requested By: Two Anons. Prompt is one half of a request. I will use the other prompt in a separate fic I have planned.

Warnings: Tame themes of jealousy and unrequited love.

Words: ~3k

A/N: This is also a re-write of how Maria and Eliot's relationship ends.

"I think I got someone I can call to help us out with that part of the con." Eliot spoke up from beside you as he grabbed his phone and got up to leave.

You felt your chest tighten at his words, knowing exactly who he was referring too. Your fist tightened around your pen.

Parker smirked "Tell Maria hello for me."

Eliot glared at her "You don't know that was who I was gonna call, Parker!"

As Parker rose to follow him she continued to smile "Then who is it, huh? You got another girlfriend I should know about?"

"Parker, don't antagonize him!" Sophie sighed before she turned to you and Breanna. "I'm going to go find our Mr Wilson, you two get ready."

You and Breanna both nodded, watching Sophie leave. Your eyes locked on Eliot outside as he spoke on the phone. He had a smile on his face as he disappeared around the corner.

Breanna looked over at you, noting the way your face had fallen from moments before. She noticed it every time Maria came up in conversation.

"Sooo..." She began slowly as she eyed you.

You looked at her, noting the look on her face. "Are you about to ask for a favor?"

She shook her head "No, not a favor."

"Then what?"

"I was just wondering why it is you seem so effected every time Eliot and Maria are brought up."

You straightened up a bit at this, which she did not fail to notice.

She continued with a hint of caution in her tone "I mean, you're the only one who doesn't make jokes. Who doesn't ask Eliot how he and Maria are. And anytime she gets brought up, you tend to go quiet, or find and excuse to leave."

You smiled softly "You're better at noticing things than I gave you credit for."

She shrugged her head "So what is it?"

You shook your head lightly, uncertain if you should tell her.

She leaned a little closer, her face expressing a small pout. "Come on, please? 'Cause I gotta be honest. When I first showed up here, I really thought you and Eliot were a couple. I mean you two are perfect for each other."

You let out a soft breath "Yeah, I've heard that before."

"So?" She gave you a hard look.

You rolled your eyes lightly before you looked past her to make sure everyone was gone. You took a breath before you began.

"When the team first got together, me and Eliot got along a lot faster than we did with the others. I'm not really sure why, we just...clicked. He would often insist that he didn't like working with a team, that he was better alone, blah blah. One day when we were talking about it again, once the team was a bit more settled. I joked that it was because he wasn't only afraid of finding a family, but falling in love."

Hearing a noise outside, you paused for a moment. Seeing Eliot leaving, you figured he was going to meet Maria. You sighed softly before you continued.

"And honestly, by that point, I...had developed feelings for him. So the joke was kind of a test I guess, to see if he showed any interest"

Breanna leaned a little closer. "Did he?"

You let out a soft dry laugh "Actually, he just retaliated with some dry sarcasm. Saying things like 'Men like me don't fall in love'"

You mimicked his deeper voice and Breanna chuckled.

"But then he said, that I had to promise to never fall in love with him. It was a joke at the time, and I agreed not too. Not that long later I figured it was for the best. I mean, we have a dangerous life, it's dangerous to fall in love in our line of work. But the longer I spent with him and the others, the more I felt at home.

Breanna spoke softly "And...the more you fell for him?"

You nodded softly as you tapped your fingers on the table. "Me and Eliot are close, but not that kind of close. He's never shown any interest in me, not like that. So I just- I stay with him in the ways that I can. While he falls in love with attractive marshals." You smiled, but it did not meet your eyes.

She shook her head as she stared at you with a mix of pity and surprise "You gotta tell him!"

"No, I don't Breanna. He's got Maria, and as far as I can tell, he's happy with her. I'm not the type to try and bust that kind of thing up. Eliot deserves someone, and it took him a long time to get over the not falling in love thing. It may not be me, but, at least it's someone. Besides! What if-" a fearful thought you had many times washed over you. You let out a soft breath. "What if I do tell him, and..."

"And he doesn't feel the same." She said with dejection.

"That would kill me Breanna, and the team would never be the same again." You shrugged, the sadness on your face evident "I can't risk that, I wont."

"So you're just gonna watch the man you love, love someone else?"

You nodded "The things we do for love Breanna, especially unrequited love, often hurt."

Hearing your phone buzz, you looked down to see a text from Sophie. "It's time" You knocked on the table before you began to leave, stopping you spun back around and pointed at her "This stays between us."

She nodded, before she watched you go. A newfound pity, and respect for you heavy on her chest.

--- --- --- ---

Sitting in the food truck with Breanna, you listened to the various conversations over the comms. While Harry schmoozed up to an old evil lawyer, and Sophie made her way back to the truck, you heard the tail-end of Eliot and Maria's conversation.

Your's and Breanna's comms weren't on, so though you could hear them, they could not hear you.

"You owe me for this one Eliot." Maria said.

"Yeah yeah I know." He said with an obvious smile.

"Maybe dinner? When you're done...working, or whatever this is."

"Yeah, dinner sounds good."

"Good. Call me later then."

Breanna made a sound akin to a sick cat "She is really good at" she mimicked a fishing rod "Reeling him in isn't she?"

"Breanna!" You said softly.

"What? I'm on your side."

"On Y/n's side of what?" Sophie's voice came from behind you as she entered the food truck. You looked at Breanna with a mild warning look.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." You said coolly, as you rose. Grabbing your ear comm, you began putting on your coat.

"Mark primed and ready for me?" You asked Sophie.

"Yes." She said while watching you closely, unconvinced of your dismissing comment.

Once you let the truck, Sophie looked over at Breanna, who quickly looked away and began typing.

Sophie sat beside her "Breanna, if something is going on between Eliot and Y/n I need to know. Are they fighting? What is it?"

Breanna looked nervously from her screen to Sophie. "I'm not supposed to talk about it."

Sophie narrowed her eyes "But you clearly very much want to." Her eyes widened a it "Is it a secret? I love secrets! Y/n has a secret from me?"

Breanna shrugged, weighing the consequences. "Okay-" she began as she muted Sophie's the comms so you would not be able to over hear once you turned yours on, "First tell me this. Have you ever thought that Y/n and Eliot should be together?"

Sophie rose her brow "Oh I always thought they should, but I never understood why they haven't." Sophie gasped "What is it, now you have to tell me!"

"Alright Sophie, Maria is gonna help." Eliot frowned when he heard no response "Sophie? Breanna? Y/n what's going on?"

"What?" You whispered.

"Sophie and Breanna aren't responding to me."

"They're in the truck, I just left them. I gotta go, I'm approaching the mark."

Eliot sighed as he walked up to the food truck. Seeing the door slightly ajar, he opened it slowly, fearing someone else may be inside. He paused though, when he heard Sophie and Breanna.

"What is it, now you have to tell me!"

Eliot was about to call out to them, but stopped when he heard Breanna.

"Have you ever noticed Y/n withdrawing and getting weird whenever Maria comes up in conversation?"

"Oh yeah definitely."

Eliot frowned, he never noticed that. He would have noticed that. He felt a small jolt of realization, as he recalled that you tended to avoid any conversation about her. He thought you were doing it for his sake, but maybe not?

"Right?! So, it's because Y/n has been in love with Eliot for years!"

"What!?"

Eliot felt his heart drop as he felt his breath catch.

"Eliot made a joke years back when Nate first got you guys together, that Y/n had to promise to never fall in love with him. They said they wouldn't, but Y/n already had feelings for him then too."

"Oh my God."

Eliot's hands tightened on the handle of the truck as he continued to hold his breath. Everything from years ago rushing back into his head.

"Y/n said that Eliot never showed any signs of being interested in them so they never acted on it. And Eliot would say things like he doesn't fall in love, ya know, typical Eliot stuff. But now, years later he's with Maria and not Y/n, and now they just have to watch, while their heart is being ripped apart watching the man they love, be with someone else."

"Oh dear, poor Y/n." Sophie said with a dejected tone.

"And Y/n refuses to tell Eliot because they don't want to jeopardize ruining the team."

Eliot stepped away and leaned against the truck, finally taking in a staggered breath.

All this time, you had loved him? The years that he spent convincing himself to never feel anything for you. Because it would be dangerous, because you deserved better? The whole time, you were doing the same, for him.

As much as it broke his heart never being with you the way he dreamed, he convinced himself it was for the better. So when people like Maria came into his life, he jumped in. Now he knew that every time he did that, he was hurting you.

All this time, you had never gotten into a serious relationship. Was this why? What it because of him?

"Eliot? Hello!?"

Breaking from his thoughts as Sophie's voice rang in his ears, he shook himself from his thoughts.

"What?"

"Are you coming back to the truck? We have to go."

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming." He replied, waiting for a few moments before he went into the truck.

Right now he needed to focus on the con, but once it was over. He would fix this. He would set it all right.

--- --- ---

You grinned at the client as she shook Sophie's hand, before turning to the rest of you "Thank you all so much."

"I hope you're able to get back on your feet quickly, let us know if there is anything else we can do." You said softly.

As she thanked you all again and walked off, you looked around at the others. You paused momentarily as you saw Eliot staring intensely at you. His face a mix of emotion you weren't sure you could identify.

Seemingly pulling himself from his thoughts, he pulled his eyes from you as he turned to follow the others inside.

Letting out a sigh as you looked around, you smiled, glad the con went well.

Looking at the time, you felt a small tug at your heart as you recalled Eliot's promise to Maria of dinner. You sighed as you tried to shake the thought from your mind, as you had many times before.

Taking a short break with everyone before they left, you were left alone, sitting at the tables outside the restaurant. You slowly spun the glass in your hand as you stared into the bubbles of the drink.

You were so lost in thought, you didn't see Eliot come around the corner. You didn't see him stand there for a while as he watched you.

He felt guilt pull at him as he watched you sit alone. After most cons, you and him would sit outside somewhere, talk, laugh, eat, watch the stars. It was your thing.

But recently, he would leave after cons to go see Maria. Just another thing he took from you.

Finally walking up to you, you heard his steps and looked up. You smiled at him with mild surprise. He smiled in return, feeling a warmer tug at his heart than before.

"Everyone leave?"

"Yeah" You nodded before you frowned slightly "I thought you were getting dinner with Maria?"

Eliot let out a sigh as he sat in the chair next to you. "Yeah, about that. I did see Maria, but it wasn't to get dinner."

You furrowed your brow "Something happen?"

He nodded "Yeah. Uh, me and Maria aren't going to be seeing each other again."

You sat up a bit straighter, both pain for Eliot, and a small amount of relief washed over you. "What happened?"

"I did." He said softly.

You turned in your chair to face him "I don't get it."

"I ended it, because...I overheard a conversation between Breanna and Sophie earlier."

"About...Maria?" Your heart was beginning to pick up pace as you swallowed hard. What exactly did Breanna and Sophie talk about when you left?

He shook his head "No, about you."

You stared at him with a blank face as you processed what he said. When you left Sophie and Breanna in the truck, she had just walked in after Breanna made a comment about being on your side.

"Oh God." You muttered before you leaned down, setting your head on the table a bit harder than you intended "What did the say?" You asked with a dejected tone.

Eliot smiled a bit as he sat forward, putting his arms on the table and leaning forward. He spoke softly "About how your in love with me. And that you have been for years."

Your heart was pounding in your chest, as your neck burned hot. You were afraid to look up, afraid Eliot would have a look on his face that told you he didn't feel the same.

But then you remembered what started this conversation. He ended it with Maria because of what he overheard. Did that mean-

Looking up, you saw Eliot with a soft smile staring down at you. No judgement, no repulsion, no rejection.

"You said you wouldn't fall in love with me." He said softly with a smile.

You let out a soft breath "Yeah, well. I lied."

His smile grew a bit "So did I."

You squinted a bit in confusion and he replied "About when I said men like me don't fall in love. Because I did. With you, years ago. And every single day since I, regretted telling you not to fall for me. I never really thought you would, but I wanted it."

"Is that why you never told me?"

He nodded softly "And I'm sorry. If I had, if I had shown any of the things I was feeling...things would've been different"

You shrugged lightly but smiled "Not so different."

He smiled "Maybe not. But they would have been better. I would have gotten what I wanted the most."

"Which is?"

"To be with you in all the way's we never had."

"I anted that too. But you aren't the only one who hid it. I was so convinced you never would that I never showed how I felt either."

He shook his head "I guess we both got that guilt in common then. But at least now we can amend that, and make up for the time we lost."

You smiled, but your face fell. "But what about Maria? I never intended f-"

He shook his head as he leaned forward, setting his hand on top of yours.

"It never would have lasted with Maria. She's a Marshal, and I'm- well, you know. It would have ended sooner or later. And I would rather be with the one person who has always been there for me, seen the best and worst parts of me and never left my side. I'd rather be with you than anyone else."

You gazed softly at each other for a few moments as he gently caressed your hand.

"Since I've been going to see Maria after all of our cons recently, I neglected our routine of getting dinner together. Have you eaten?"

"I have not."

He motioned his head towards the restaurant "Let me make you something to make up for it."

You smiled as you both began to rise "I would never say no to that."

He smiled as you both move to go inside. Suddenly stopping, he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest. Staring into his eyes, he smiled at you before his eyes flicked to your lips. Meeting your eyes again his lips quirked into a bigger smile.

Smiling in return as you both inched loser, your lips met in a soft kiss. Placing your hands on his chest, he moved his hands to your waist as he deepened the kiss.

As much as you were going to chastise Breanna for telling Sophie the one thing you told her not too. You'd be forever secretly grateful that she did.

xx End xx

Hope you enjoyed it! If you did please consider reblogging, it helps out a lot and is always a great motivator and makes my day! <3

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Leverage/Eliot Taglist: @groovy-lady, @aaannabbanana, @peoniarose, @fablesrose, @spuffyfan394, @malindacath, @winnifredburkleismyhero, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet,

245 notes · View notes

clarajohnson · 7 months

Text

the magicians s1e4

filed under episodes you couldn't make today and that you shouldn't have made then. not that i don't love it because I DO but whew

watercolors!

(hamster who was turned into a human boy voice) no, my life is my life, this is--

i do think we need to grapple with how dumb tutting looks out of context

that napkin full of technicolor pills would've done numbers on 2014 tumblr at least

the physical kids is as suggestive a name for that group as they deserve

the moths are real bad !!!!!

ALICE'S BROW RAISE. i'm gonna find a screenshot of it i can't let it go

that's an episode of lost in space-- star trek-- what?-- that's an episode of star trek-- fine, that's an episode of star trek

there is so much eyebrow acting in this episode actually

in my first watch i was so pro-julia the whole time because quentin hadn't become an all-time little meow meow for me yet god this was always a terrible thing for her. the fake engagement is a particularly cruel dig like... how can i torture q the most? tell him nothing that's brought him joy and purpose in the last few years was real, tell him he's being left behind, tell him people are moving forward without him, everyone else knows how to be normal but him

ohhhhhhh julia did you want to see the fireworks? did you? rookie gaslighting mistake miss wicker

laughing at you? what kind of a friend would do that? AND THEN THE SMIRK ohhhhh she and marina could have been so good together

one thing that's real? you're always a raging dick

someone in the discord said penny is leaning into it so hard and i have to agree like... they should not have done this but at least arjun gets to have fun

[whispers] hashtag agree

in 2015 singing shake it off was one of the strangest things a man on television could do but eight years later it just seems like me watching myself in my apartment any given friday night

i understand the logistics that inhibit the pairing but alice and eliot had so much potential like at LEAST platonically

okay all of the stuff above was awful of julia but actually the most awful thing was making q think he'd harm his father (and that that harm was linked to magic use! which will come back around when magic shuts off!)

penny helping by shouting at quentin as loud and aggressively as he can :-) you racist motherfucker !!!!!!

julia and marina having a sexy raspy voice-off

high-end designer cooperative magic... said while wearing her little leather bondage outfit... hitting on kady... affectionately, you melodramatic cunt

our little q :-) he knows where he would take him on a first fucking date

do we know what marina's discipline was/would've been? ik it's not like (barf) hogwarts houses or whatever but i'm curious where brakebills placed her

jesus christ i didn't remember he was gonna get a fucking lobotomy

there's a lot of eye horror in this show which is just the worst

ughhhh bad episode for julia

god eliot is so obvious right from the start it is insane... patting q's head giving him things... fuckin loverboy

poor you and your taste of honey worse than none at all :-( marina they could NEVER make me hate you

#unauthorized magicians rewatch #the magicians #text

30 notes · View notes

my-beloved-lakes · 7 months

Text

@leveragetober

Leveragetober 2023

Prompt 4: crossover

Parker, Eliot and Hardison take a job in Paris. When it gets interrupted by a con artist who is scamming their mark, they decide to recruit him into Leverage International. (Under the cut.)

Parker eyed the man claiming to be the mark's assistant, tied to the chair in front of her. He was a grifter, No doubt about it now. And he was really good too.

None of them had suspected him of being criminal, not until they had caught him trying to clear out the mark’s bank account at the same time as them, making this simple trip to Paris much more complicated.

So, who was this guy really? A grifter, sure, but why had he chosen the exact same mark as them? Maybe it was just a coincidence, but what were the chances of that?

"Who are you?" Parker asked. "And don’t bother lying. We’ll know if you do.”

Parker heard Eliot crack his knuckles behind her. She knew Eliot wasn't actually going to hurt this guy, since he wasn’t much of a threat, but this guy didn't know that. And yet Parker only caught a brief flash of fear in his eyes before he managed to hide it again.

He’s not gonna talk, is he? Parker shrugged. There were other ways of finding out what they wanted to know.

"Run his face through that thing that tells you who people are." She said turning to Hardison.

"Parker, it’s called...?" Hardison started to say but was interrupted.

"Wait, The Parker!?" The guy asked, astonished.

"The one and only." Parker sighed. She was getting tired of people recognizing her as a world famous thief.

"You stole the Hope Diamond five years ago!"

Parker nodded.

"And then put it back!"

Parker rolled her eyes.

“Yes I did. So, since you know so much about me, why don't you tell us about yourself," Parker glanced at Hardison's computer. "Neal Cafrey."

"Ooh, you were good!" Hardison sounded genuinely impressed as he read from the files that popped up.

"Still am." Neal smirked.

"Huh, says here that you're dead." Hardison said.

"Aww, Your FBI handler wrote a very sweet message for your obituary." Parker added, reading more information from the files that Hardison had found.

Neal ducked his head and looked away.

oops. Parker thought. She hadn't meant to be insensitive, but that seemed to have hit a nerve. Maybe they had been close.

Parker pulled up a swivel chair and sat down in front of Neal.

"Alright, just tell us why you were running The Oklahoma Little Chucky on our mark." She demanded.

"No, it was a John and Mary scam." Eliot corrected. "You need a pit bull and a wedding cake for the Oklahoma Little Chucky.”

"Well, it couldn't've been a John and Mary scam cuz you need a whole fire station for that one." Hardison argued.

"Oh, I had the fire station." Neal said slyly.

"Ooh!" Eliot, Hardison and Parker all said in unison. They were all genuinely impressed.

"And to answer your question; the same reason as you, I'd imagine." Neal continued.

"Because his company was polluting the surrounding areas, making people really sick and killing all the wildlife?" Parker asked.

"Okay, I guess not." Neal looked taken aback. "Alright, you guys have already figured out half of it. I faked my death back in America and I fled here. I needed an easy score that would pay well so I could set myself up with a new life." Neal explained. "You guys are criminals, just like me. You understand, so, one criminal to another, would you be so kind as to let me go?" Neal slipped his hands out of the ropes and stood up without waiting for an answer.

Parker cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

“I'm very good at what I do.” Neal shrugged.

He was good. Anyone who could slip one of Eliot's knots had to be.

Neal grabbed his hat off the table, flipped it in his hand and placed it back on his head before heading for the door.

"What if..." Parker said and spun her chair around to face him, "we offered you a job?"

Neal hesitated at the door.

"It comes with that chance at a new life you were looking for. A chance to run your own crew, long term, right here in Paris." Parker added.

she glanced at Eliot and Hardison who both nodded in agreement. It was the same pitch they had given to Hurley when they had set up the Mexican branch of leverage, and now she got to give it again. They had come to France in the hopes of setting up a new branch of leverage in the first place. She hadn’t been sure how they were going to find someone willing to do it, but then along came Neal Cafrey, an experienced grifter looking for a fresh start. The perfect candidate had fallen right into their lap.

Neal turned around. He was intrigued.

"Let's talk business." Parker said with a sly smile.

#leveragetober #leveragetober 2023 #leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #white collar #Neal Cafrey #white collar fanfic #leverage fanfic #leverage/white collar crossover #i am having so much fun with this!

33 notes · View notes

ober-affen-geil · 1 year

Text

Leverage: Redemption 2x07 "The Big Rig Job"

[Begin ID

Gif 1: Inside the Leverage headquarters during the day, Christmas decorations everywhere. Sophie is leaning against the bar, Harry is walking through the door from the outside behind her, Eliot is standing still looking broody and flexing his fingers. Parker is behind him dressed in a faux nutcracker outfit standing in front of a Christmas tree holding two plugs, blowing in them to prepare to plug them together. Breanna walks across the shot with her back to the camera, she is speaking to the group and her words "YDN tracking is an industry behemoth. They buy up local companies," are written in orange along the bottom.

Gif 2: Focus on Breanna as she finishes speaking, she casually puts on a pair of sunglasses. Her words "just to acquire their shipping contracts" are written on the bottom in orange.

Gif 3: Focus on Parker with Eliot turned to look at her. She is looking at the tree out of shot and, with triumphant glee, she plugs the light strands together and a bright glow begins to shine from just off camera, Eliot starts to react. Cut to a wide shot to see the tree she was standing in front of is now putting out a frankly unbelievable amount of light. Eliot throws his hand up between his face and the light, ducking and staggering away. Parker is looking up at the tree in rapturous adoration.

Gif 4: Focus on Sophie, she is holding a hand up to shade her eyes and squinting. Cut to Harry, who is shading his eyes and looking away with a small fond, impressed smile.

Gif 5: Focus on Breanna with her sunglasses on looking right into the light. She smirks and tilts an eyebrow.

Gif 6: Cut to Parker standing in front of the tree, apparently completely unaffected by the light. Eliot still has a defensive hand up and is staggering towards her. She gestures defeatedly and says "I need more lights!", words along the bottom in white.

Gif 7: Focus on Parker and Eliot as Eliot reaches the plug and, with a heroic effort, wrenches the light strands apart. The tree goes dark and Parker looks at him in surprise. He drops the plugs and puts a hand out to steady himself.

Gif 8: Focus on Eliot walking away from the tree, he is still hunched a little defensively but is straightening as he moves. His eyes are squeezed shut and he says "I looked right at it. I looked right at it.", words along the bottom in yellow. Parker is behind him looking up at the tree, out of frame, with her hands on her hips.

End ID]

#leverage redemption #my gifs #a riley special #this scene made me laugh so hard omg #christians commitment was amazing #his delivery of that last line will make me giggle forever #also breanna has never looked cooler #she was very hardisonesque this episode i have to say #tw bright #and harry's little impressed noise lmao #hes part of the family!

110 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 1 year

Text

Ally

Victor Vale x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: technically kidnapping ig lol

Author’s Note: i hope you enjoy love <33 i had some fun banter with this one <3

Requested: by anon, Hi. I saw u had a victor vale fic so will you be willing to write another? Possibly Victor Vale x FemReader. Eli is a killer at this point and is trying to kill the reader but Victor is trying to find her first. He also has a crush on her and tries to get her to come with him but she refuses so he kidnaps her for safety (not yandere just panic). Later he explains why he did so and she's fine with it. She joins the little family and he begins to love her more. Idk about the end Tysm! ily writing!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You remembered college fondly. You remembered the late nights with a bitter distaste in your mouth. You remembered the way Eli’s eyes looked when he had been studying nonstop for a week. You remembered Victor’s coffee order and test day sweatpants. You remembered the shitty dinners and you remembered the feeling of dying when it was inflicted on you by your friends. You remembered what it felt like to wake up again, like the breath inside you was so new it stung.

You remembered the look in Victor’s eyes when he told you he had killed Angie. You remembered the last time you saw Eli before he lost whatever emotion he had. If the three of you hadn’t been drowning in the idea of a life between deaths then you wouldn’t have been stuck like you were now. You would have had a normal college experience. You would’ve been able to stay friends with the guys.

You could’ve lost touch after college but remembered your friendship fondly, just like everyone else.

Instead you were stuck with this torment. The powers you gained from your death were considered lethal to Eliot Cardale. Now you were stuck with trying to escape him until someone caught him.

Victor looked across the crowded street. He was sitting down at a small round table by himself, nursing a cold cup of coffee. He recognized the color of your hair even from far away. He hadn’t seen you since the day he had been arrested. You and Eli had scampered your separate ways the second you realized of each other's intentions. Victor couldn’t blame you.

He blamed Eli enough for the both of you.

You were gently picking up some fruit from the local vendors. You had on a large pair of Jackie O sunglasses that you seemed to believe was hiding your identity. Victor would recognize the purse of your lips anywhere. He used to adore you in a way that a college boy could. From arms distance so he never messed things up with you. He used to think you would marry Eli one day. He never thought he would be chasing after you quite like this.

You turned your head his way and he stood up. There was no use trying to hide it now. He stood up swiftly, sticking his hands in his coat pockets. Your eyes searched, as though you were looking for him specifically. Your eyes eventually landed on him as he made his way towards you. The surprise on your face was priceless. Your face eased into a startled expression as you held the fruit to your chest.

But you didn’t move. You waited until he reached you. You hadn’t seen Victor in years. There were lines on his face you didn’t recognize. His hair had grown and he had a slight look of death about him. Underneath it, he remained the same Victor. You could tell by his eyes.

“Victor Vale,” you breathed. He smiled slyly, almost a smirk.

“In the flesh.”

“The very pale flesh. You look like a ghost Victor.”

“Did I spook you?”

“Frankly? Yes.” You gently put the fruit down in the basket you had found it. You removed your sunglasses, folding them up and holding them in your hands. “I would say it’s a surprise to run into you but I imagine you were looking for me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“What do you want Victor?” Now that he could see your eyes, unshaded by the sunglasses, he was struck with a heartstring he had long forgotten. A feeling tingled in his fingers. Schoolboy crush.

“Eli is looking for you,” he stated simply.

“I’m evading him quite well I think.”

“Not well enough. I found you.”

“Well I’ve never hidden from you Victor.” You smiled gently and gestured to the sidewalk. He followed you as you began to stroll. He kept a step behind you, allowing you to lead the way. “You still haven’t explained what you’re here for.”

“You need to come with me.”

“I’m alright, thank you.”

“Eli will find you and when he does, he’ll kill you.” It was a promise, not a warning. You both knew what Eli was capable of. “We’re safer together.” You shook your head a bit.

“I hear he’s looking more aggressively for you. I don’t think I’m on his radar.” “You never left his radar. Or mine for that matter.”

“I can’t tell if that was a compliment.”

“Don’t make me beg.”

“I’ve always liked a man on his knees.” You glanced up at him as you walked. He had a much too serious look on his face. “Victor. You can’t just waltz into my life again and expect me to leave with you.”

“I can.” You stopped walking. There was a silence between the two of you. “Do you remember what it feels like to have my power used on you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” There was a tension between the two of you. It wasn’t nearly loving enough. You could feel the hostility. He needed you on his side and he was about ready to do anything to do it.

“You can’t go to him,” he whispered. His voice was quiet in the wind of people around the two of you. It felt intimate.

“I don’t plan to.”

You were going to speak again when you suddenly began to feel faint. You blinked a couple of times, mouth still open as you searched to regan the muscles to use it. You stumbled forward. He grabbed you, clutching your arms. You fell asleep in his arms.

You woke up to a warm blanket being placed around you. Your eyes refused to open for a moment. You were engulfed in a warm blackness. It was peaceful for a few moments. Then your eyes opened and you remembered the panic you felt before you were asleep.

You were in some sort of hotel room. There was a blonde girl at the edge of your bed that you didn’t notice and a dog at her side. Your breathing grew heavy. You had a feeling this girl had neared death, just as you had.

“She’s awake,” the girl said. Her voice was quaint. It seemed like you were in some sort of hotel room. You gripped the blankets around you tightly as a tall man you didn’t recognize walked into the room from the adjoined one. Behind him was Victor.

“Victor? What the fu-”

“I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t come with, no matter how hard I tried to convince you.”

“I told you not to knock her out,” the little girl said.

“Sydney, not the time.” The girl, Sydney, looked positively pleased with herself. “Can I speak to her alone?” he questioned. Sydney and the tall man slowly left the room, her dog following at her footsteps. Your breathing hadn’t evened down. You were still heaving.

“Victor-”

“I panicked,” he admitted. “Don’t make me say it again.” He looked slightly embarrassed which gave you more power in the situation. You pursed your lips and let go of the blanket on top of you. Your knuckles had turned white. He could tell your guard was still up and he couldn’t blame you. He had kidnapped you, for lack of a better word.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe I can’t,” he said, snarkily.

“You can’t just kidnap girls you had a crush on in college Victor.”

“Who says I had a crush on you?” “Eli.”

“He’s a murderer. You can’t believe a word he says.” Despite the odds, you smiled a bit. You had missed Victor. Though you had things you had to return to, you understood why he had knocked you out. You weren’t likely to forgive that bit anytime soon but you could at least make an attempt to figure out your situation.

“He’s looking for you. I’m in more danger here than I was out there.”

“I can’t fight him alone. I need allies against him.”

“Am I just an ally to you Victor Vale?’

“At the least an ally.”

“At the most?”

“Don’t make me say it.” You looked at him through your lashes.

“Still the same Victor then.” You sat up all the way. “Who were they?”

“Runaways.”

“Friends.” He smirked.

“You know I don’t have friends. Not since Eli.”

“How dare I assume.” You would likely fight him about this whole ordeal when you had the strength to. For now you knew you had entered a war you had been fighting since it was conceived. It was foolish to run away from it.

Victor gently grabbed your hand. Without even thinking, he took away what little pains you had left. Not as a kindness but as an instinct.

#victor vale x reader #victor vale imagines #vicious imaignes

55 notes · View notes

geekynightowl1997 · 7 months

Text

Christian Kane and his little smirk is to die for. I'm for real.

#leverage #leverage redemption #almost paradise #librarians #christian kane #eliot spencer #jacob stone #alex walker #his little smirk #his smile #its to die for #it makes my heart do weird things #i'm for real #his little smirk makes him look all innocent #and he's not

11 notes · View notes

morgansmornings · 16 days

Note

Netflix and chill with, go ice-skating with, play dodgeball against: Eliot, Eddie, Ron

This Meme: Accepting @brooklynislandgirl

Honorable Mentions: @ifyoucatchacriminal, @tangleweave. @ronmanmob

~~~*~~~

"I will say this now. I hate all of this."

It is a late lunch made of salad and fruit. With the temps on the rise with the changing seasons, Jayden can’t bring herself to make anything heavy at meal time. Unlike ANdy who can and will eat steak for every meal if he thinks he can get away with it. Malasadas are currently being covered in a sugar and cinnamon blend . Though they seem to disappear faster than she can make them. Not that Jay is ever going to complain or say anything about that.

“Clearly I have to go Netflix and Chill with Eloit. It is in self defence, really.” Jay shakes her head, clearing the knowing grin she had on her face. So maybe she had at least thought about the snarky man and what she would have liked to do to him before. “His accuracy at throwing things is a bit scary. Don’t play darts against him if you can avoid it.”

She places the pastry down and goes to coat another round. Pausing long enough to take her long island ice tea and take a not so healthy sip of it.

“Hm, I think the next safest way to go is ice-skating with Ron. I think the activity would do him some good. A little bit of sun, a new skill to add to his collection. ANd who knows, it might come in handy to woo a potential significant otter.” Jayden leaned her head to the side, a smirk gracing her face as she set the glass back down. “Which leaves dodgeball with Eddie and Venom. In which case I have the advantage because I feed the second half really expensive chocolate. Which means I win.”

#Please Leave a Message | Answered Ask #brooklynislandgirl #Danke Beth!

3 notes · View notes

chillassimagines · 1 year

Text

Simon Says - Campbell Eliot Smut

When you can could you pretty please make a smut of Campbell and reader playing the game of something similar to Simon says? Where the two are pleasuring themselves and they can't take the suspense anymore and they start to please the other.

“I’m not playing that, that’s literally the stupidest shit to be doing right now.” Campbell scoffed and shook his head at you. Being a day off from responsibilities, you wanted to have some fun.

“I bet you’d play if…we drank?” You pulled out two bottles of liquor from your bag that you brought over to his house. His eyes widened for a second, but then a grin crossed his mouth.

“I’m sure one game wouldn’t hurt.” He hummed mischievously, joining you to sit on his bed. You kicked your bag off of the bed and handed him a bottle.

“I’ll go first…Simon Says…smile.” His face immediately dropped making you laugh. “C’mon Campbell! Simon Says smile!” You giggled as he shook his head once more and gave a half assed smile. “Simon Says hold up your left pinky.”

“This is so dumb.” He held up his left pinky and maintained his smile.

“You can stop smiling.” He stopped immediately making you point at him. “Simon didn’t say.” You sang, wagging your finger at him.

“Oh noo.” He said sarcastically, popping the lid off and taking a large drink from the bottle. You popped off your lid and took a swig just for fun.

“Woo! Alright, your turn, baby.” You said eagerly, but of course he didn’t match your energy.

“Well, Simon Says…” He stared off into thought for a few moments. “Stick your tongue out.” You raised a curious brow, but obliged to the order. “Simon Says, waterfall the drink into your mouth.”

“Funny.” You said and proceeded to follow the next order, and put your tongue back out after you swallowed.

“Simon Says you can stop sticking out your tongue.” You follow. He hummed for a second, thinking again. “Simon Says, give me a kiss.” His devilish smirk drew you in every time.

“This game isn’t too bad.” You teased before leaning forward to give him his kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you into him for a bit longer than planned.

“Simon Says…take another drink with me.” He whispered against your lips. You rolled your eyes.

“Every other command is a drink or something, Campbell?” He raised the bottle to clink against yours.

“No, but I’ve gotta have a little fun. And you don’t have to do it on your own, see?” Campbell waved the bottle in front of your face before downing some more. You took a deep breath out and inhaled in your next drink.

“Next time, I’ll remember a chaser.” You pursed your lips together, feeling the tingle of the alcohol on them.

“Simon Says, turn around.” You got onto your knees, spun around facing away from him on the bed sitting on your butt again. “You up for one more?” He questioned, making you sigh.

“Guess i brought it to use.” You lifted the bottle up in faux cheers, not facing him still.

“Simon Says, we’ll take one last shot together.” You take the last swig like a champ and cap the bottle, putting it on the side table.

“I’ll probably be a little tipsy, I can’t lie.” You laughed at yourself, knowing you didn’t drink as much as others did.

“Simon Says…lean your head to the left side.” You silently do as he says. “To the right.” You refuse to move, grinning at your attentive skills. He laughs softly. “Tough cookie.”

“I’m a pro at this, baby. It’s not hard to follow directions.” You initiated a slight teasing jab at your boyfriend. He hissed teasingly.

“Ooo, the pain.” You felt the weight on the bed begin to shift closer to your back. “Since you’re so good at following directions…Simon Says, take off your top.” Your jaw dropped, not believing what he said. You originally thought you two would be laughing and doing dumb stuff the whole time.

“Campbell-“

“Simon Says…right?” His breath fanned your ear, making you shudder internally. You followed his order and lifted your top from your torso, your head returning to its lean. You heard his hum of appreciation, whether it was for your obedience or the view you weren’t sure.

“Next?” You asked, more quiet than you’d spoken previously.

“Take off your bra.” He whispered again, but your hands didn’t move an inch. He let out another hum. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s more fun if I do it anyways.” He proceeded to unclip your bra and gently push it down your arms, flinging it across the room. Your breathing was trying to pick up, but you didn’t want it to be obvious with your now bare chest.

“I am good.” You tried to act cocky, but it came out a bit weak. He pressed his lips softly against your shoulder.

“You are…very good.” You bit your lip, knowing this was going to take a turn. “Simon Says, take off these shorts and spread your legs.” You gingerly slid the shorts off your body and hesitate a moment before spreading as instructed. “You good?”

“Very.” You chirped in response, feeling so exposed while Campbell was most likely clothes still.

“Simon Says, touch those pretty nipples for me.” He leaves another kiss on your neck, waiting to remove his lips until your fingers began to trace where he instructed. “Simon Says, stick that tongue out again.” You followed instructions, not stopping your ministrations, goosebumps rising.

His mouth started sucking on your neck, at just the spot that made you shiver under him. You felt an odd sensation traveling down between your breasts. You looked down to see it was a trail of saliva, now rushing past your navel.

“Kiss me baby.” He purred against your skin, but you only let out a small moan in response feeling the liquid reach your core. He laughed and nuzzled his cheek against yours, his lips kissing the corner of your mouth where your tongue was still out. “Simon Says, slide your fingers on your tongue.” You could hear his belt becoming undone, making you want to turn around, but you followed his orders, one hand still pulling on your nipple.

He let you salivate on your fingers for a bit, probably enjoying peering down at you.

“Simon Says you can take those fingers, close that mouth, and touch where you need it.” You didn’t hesitate to bring them down to your hot center. You ran your fingers through your slit, basking in the bliss.

“Baby.” You moaned, arching your back slightly. He hummed into your neck, maybe with a bit too much pleasure in his tone. He was loving this.

“Yeah, Simon’s gonna enjoy this with you, baby. Simon Says lean your head back and put them fingers inside.”

Your fingers shook as you pressed two up inside of yourself, crying out and leaning your head back to touch his chest. His lustful eyes peering down on you, and you realized he got rid of his shirt.

“Imagine it’s me baby…giving you every single push inside. Hitting those spots that make those pretty toes curl…ah, ah! Just like that.” You could hear the shuffling of his hand wrapped around himself, pushing himself into bliss.

“Ooo, Campbell!” You struck yourself in that sweet spot, basking in the toe curling moment. “I wan’ more.” You begged in a hushed tone.

“Simon Says lay back and let me see you do it.” You were in a hurry to lay on your back and resume your actions, wanting nothing more than his body weight on top of you.

“Please.” You whimpered, your fingers speeding up to help chase your high. Your eyes dropped to his hand, rushing up and down his member.

“Simon Says, stop everything.” You whimpered and threw your hands on either side of yourself.

“C’mon c’mon!” Your thigh shook with anticipation, while he continued to give you a show.

“If you hadn’t been so…good, I might have just kept you like this. My own little painting…” He began to line himself up with your entrance, tracing up and down your clit.

“I’m so good, Campbell, for you.” You spoke quickly, hoping he would get a move on.

“Should Simon make you work just a little harder?” He whispered, leaning back down to your ear. You whimpered and shook your head, your hips following his movements.

“Uh-uh, no please don’t! I’ve been so good, baby.” You begged, wanting this orgasm so bad, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Simon Says, let me hear you beg.” He said, sliding inside of your warmth shaking slightly. You mewled out probably one of the most pornographic sounds, but it was great.

“Please baby, I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you say, you know it.” He began his pace slowly, dipping in and slowly pulling away a bit.

“Simon Says, beg…harder.” He emphasized, picking it up a bit. You yelped at the sudden pleasure of the pace and cooed to him.

“I know you can fuck me so well. I don’t even have to say Simon Says…I-I can just say please, baby! Please fuck me Campbell!” He soon granted your wish, the pace speeding up, skin slapping with aggression, damp with sweat.

“Be a good girl and tell me you want this.” He grunted, gripping your thighs with a passion.

“I want it all, Campbell! Only you can give, it, to, me!” Your head lolled back as he repeatedly rocked you back and forth like a doll.

“You can have everything, princess. Everything.” He let out heavy pants, and you could tell he was getting close. He just needed a little…encouragement.

“I want you to cum for me then, baby. Play by the rules…Simon Says cum! F-fuck!” You felt the knot inside of your stomach snap apart, your high trembling across your entire body. You felt him releasing inside of you and you thanked the lord for the birth control pills you had left. Campbell began to relax as he hovered over you. He dipped his lips down to yours, seeming to savor the taste of your lips.

“Simon didn’t say.” He parted with your lips, looking into your eyes curiously. Your eyebrows furrowed, his curiosity turning mischievous.

“What are you talking about baby?” You asked, smoothing his hair back delicately with your fingers.

“Simon didn’t say you could cum.” Your jaw dropped slowly, realizing he was ready to play again.

21 notes · View notes

lemissingmask · 7 months

Text

[ID: Sketch of Redemption-era Parker, Hardison and Eliot, with Hardison in the foreground, turning around to look at Parker and Eliot, and Parker and Eliot looking at each other. Parker is looking disapprovingly at Eliot's shoulder, which has some blood soaking through his shirt, and Eliot is half-glaring back at her with his arms folded. End ID]

Day 14: Bleeding through the bandage

Eliot bleeding through bandages beneath his shirt. Silly little random ficlet below the cut.

“Do you have scurvy?”

Hardison was pretty immune by now to the unusual things that Parker sometimes said, but every now and then, one still got him.

Like that.

It could have been directed to him or Eliot, the only other people in the room, and turning he saw that it was the hitter who had just been accused of a vitamin C deficiency.

Understandably, Eliot was looking bemused, with that edge of irritated that came when he was trying not to be amused or endeared by them.

“Do you have scurvy?” Parker repeatedly, glaring back at him.

“What?”

Parker sighed and jabbed her index finger at the right side of Eliot’s chest, “You’re bleeding.”

And, he was. Deep red seeping through his shirt. Not a lot, and not quickly, but it was definitely there.

Eliot didn’t bother looking at where Parker was prodding. He was presumably already aware of the blood.

“People’s injuries reopen and bleed again when they have scurvy,” Parker pointed out, accurately, and demonstrating the very bad idea it was for Eliot to have decided to introduce her to historical naval fiction, “And you’re bleeding. Where you got shot.”

“I’ve been shot in a lot of places,” Eliot rejoined, “This ain’t an old wound.”

He jerked away from her finger when she made to poke again, but the thief followed and he didn’t bother attempting the escape more than once.

“If it’s not an old wound, when’d it happen? You said the hitters we ran into on the last job were amateurs. You went on a whole hour-long rant about useless hitters and the idiots who hired them,” Hardison asked, turning fully away from the screens with the job they were planning.

This seemed more important right now.

“Incident at Paul’s place yesterday,” Eliot said, offering no further explanation, and trusting them not to be indiscrete enough to ask for details.

Eliot had started visiting Paul regularly, sometimes for social visits, occasionally with invites extended to the team, and sometimes to help out at the clinic.

Yesterday, he had been there to help, and somehow had got injured.

Hardison could guess explanations: a patient caught up in the trauma of war grew violent, a fight between people who once served together or maybe a grieving loved one and someone their lost companion had served with, anti-war violent protestors deciding to cause trouble in a small clinic, a slippery scalpel sliding out of Paul’s hand and coming to rest in Eliot …there were thousands of explanations ranging from simple and realistic to Sophie-soap opera level dramatic.

But he could imagine all day and Eliot would only tell them if they pressed, and if it involved no one but him.

“Need a hand with it?” Hardison asked as Parker poked at the injury again, now more out of revenge for his not having told them sooner.

Eliot shook his head, “Tore the stitches trainin’ this mornin’. Didn’ have time to redo ‘em.”

“Okayyy, well, you have time now, so…”

“I’ll do it later,” Eliot glared, “Just carry on with the…keep doin’ the…briefing!”

The words were broken by a combination of his own ever-present discomfort at expressions of concern directed towards him, and Parker getting in one last prod before they got back to work.

Reassured that Eliot wasn’t in any actual danger, Hardison smirked and turned back to the screens, picking up where he had left off while Parker gave Eliot quiet advice on how to avoid scurvy.

Hardison was pretty certain that the next time Eliot had a beer, Parker would be trying to put lime juice in it.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #day 14 #bleeding through the bandage #leverage redemption #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #cw blood

39 notes · View notes

fablesrose · 6 months

Text

Ch 7 - The Fairy Godparents Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Another crooked financial guy, but this time under house arrest. Helping his son into the spotlight must be the play here.

Words: 4768

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nate texted the group chat letting us know that he was meeting with a client and to meet for briefing. I stepped into his apartment to see that Eliot was already in the living room reading a magazine. I greeted him and sat on the far side of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me.

He greeted me with a nod, but nothing more.

Hardison walked in and started showing Eliot a phone sized device that he said was actually a metal detector. He started explaining how it worked, but I didn’t understand much. It was clear that Eliot wasn’t listening.

“Are you even listening?” Hardison asked after stopping mid-spiel.

Eliot looked up from his magazine, “yeah.”

“Well, what did I say?”

“You’re explaining how you’re still a virgin?”

I couldn’t stop the short laugh that escaped me. I noticed it cracked a smile out of Eliot before he turned back to his magazine. Hardison looked at me with betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Hardison, that’s super cool, but I don’t understand what you’re saying… and it was a little funny…”

“Woman-”

Nate walked in with Parker cutting off whatever he was going to rebuff with.

“Talking to clients, you’re supposed to sympathize,” Nate seemed to be explaining to her.

“I told you not to take her,” Eliot said.

“Well, you were right. Where’s Sophie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we’re not waiting,” Nate said as he sat down, “let's go, let’s start.”

Hardison took over researching this mark as I was busy with a project. He told us all about Daniel Fowler, our mark. He posed as a private investor, but just stole people’s money, including our client, a small clinic set to shut down because of him. The whole firm was busted as a Ponzi scheme and the FBI froze all of his assets and put him on house arrest.

“I’m talking corporate accounts, personal accounts, real estate holdings… anything on planet Earth with this dude’s name on it is on ice,” Hardison explained.

“FBI’s very thorough, huh?” Eliot asked.

“Isn’t this going to be a problem for us though?” I asked, “I mean, what are we gonna do if he’s this locked up?”

Hardison had a slight smirk on his face, “Wait for it…” he pointed at Parker.

“What’d they miss?” she asked, humoring him.

“Oh…” a couple of screens came up with a press of a button, “Twenty million dollars. Moved it off the books right before the warrants came down.”

“He knew the end was near and he was getting ready to bolt,” Nate said. “Tell me something, where was Fowler arrested?”

“Oh, in his apartment,” Hardison answered, “packing for his “business trip” to the Maldives.”

Sophie walked in then, but she didn’t look as chipper as she usually did. She didn’t say anything as she walked to the kitchen.

“You see, he’d need it light, portable, close at hand,” Nate thought out loud, “that twenty million is in his apartment.”

“Yeah, but y/n brought up a good point,” Eliot added, “This guy’s on house arrest, man. I mean, he’s practically living with the FBI.”

“The problem is not getting into the apartment,” Sophie interjected, “but getting them out.”

There was a moment of awkwards silence before Nate asked, “where were ya?”

“Oh. I was running an errand,” Sophie stuttered noncommittally.

“Weren’t you with the boyfriend?” Parker asked innocently.

“Parker” I whispered with a pointed look.

She had the grace to look a little guilty.

“So what are the terms of his house arrest?” Sophie changed the subject.

Hardison answered, “Fowler’s confined to his six million dollar penthouse overlooking the Charles River.”

“That’s a rough punishment, huh?” Eliot asked sarcastically.

“The whole place is outfitted with 24/7 surveillance so the Feds can keep an eye on him.” Hardison pointed his remote at the screen, “now… we can too.”

The screen showed a feed of Fowler’s apartment with him lying on the couch. We all smiled at him when he continued.

“I piggybacked the wireless feed.”

“Still,” Sophie sat on the back of the couch behind me, “for us to get in and search the place, we got to get rid of Fowler.”

“Now there are three general exceptions for house arrest,” Nate starts. “There’s personal safety, death of a relative, and family events.”

“Personal safety? We could burn the apartment down,” Eliot suggests.

Parker cheered and volunteered.

“Or death of a relative…” He continued.

Nate disregarded them, “Who is that?”

A kid and a woman crossed the screen.

“Oh, the kid. The kid is from her first marriage, Widmark.”

“I’m sorry what?” I asked him.

“Widmark?” Eliot emphasized.

“Rich people, man,” Hardison replied.

“Can you punch in on that, please?” Nate asked.

Hardison turned up the volume of the screen so we could hear what was being said. We watched as the kid was yelled at for apparently losing a cell phone. The adults stormed off, leaving him alone in the living room.

“Wow, okay. What do we have on the kid?” Nate asked.

Hardison described Widmark. There was nothing particularly exceptional about him, 10 years old, in the fifth grade, no extracurricular activities. The only thing interesting about him on record is that he was allergic to strawberries.

“Judges give out day passes for family events,” Nate reiterated, “it’s one of the three things right? So, Fowler is going to ask for one, so he doesn’t miss out on his kid’s big debut.”

“Wait,” I said, “What is he debuting as?”

Nate thought for a moment, “yeah, I don’t know. But we’re gonna steal his school and find out.”

Hardison was in charge of getting rid of the current principal, which he did quite easily with a couple of plane tickets. Nate was to pose as the new headmaster, with Sophie and Eliot his head teachers of “mind und body.” The parents weren’t too happy at first when they found out, but they were soon pacified enough for them to get to work. Meanwhile, Parker and Hardison were securing an apartment in the same building as the Fowlers so they had easier access to the penthouse.

I hung out in the headmaster’s office while Nate, Sophie, and Eliot spoke to the parents.

“Hardison and Parker are all set, now all we gotta do is give Widmark a triumph worth a day pass,” Nate said, strolling in.

“A triumph? In what?” Sophie asked, looking at his file, “I mean, in five years this kid hasn’t joined a club, he hasn’t played a sport…”

“I gotta be honest with ya, I don’t know how I feel about using the kid to get a mark,” Eliot commented.

“We’re not using him. I mean, every kid is good at something,” Nate insisted. “We just gotta draw Widmark out, give him his moment to shine.”

“Oh, so, we’ll be like his fairy godparents,” Sophie concluded.

“Exactly,” Nate said, “I mean, come one, look at this: cushy private school, no gunrunners, mob bosses, Interpol. This is a breeze!”

“Wait, you guys have dealt with all that before?” I asked, finally speaking up.

Nate nodded at me, “We got one week before the clinic closes for good… Athletics, academics…” he pointed at me, “this should be a good job for you to learn with. I want you to shadow Eliot and Sophie, work on staying in character. Whatever character you choose.” He turned back to address us as a group, “let's go get Widmark the win, alright?”

I followed Eliot first as he had Widmark in his class. He introduced himself to the class before gesturing to me to do the same.

“Hello everyone, you can call me Ms. Jenny. I’m going to be accompanying your class here and there for this upcoming week, let me know if you need anything.” I smiled at all of them, making a particular effort to make eye contact with Widmark.

Eliot directed the class to grab fencing equipment and to put it on before turning to me with a bit of humor, “Ms. Jenny? A little simple… are you even playing a character?”

I stuck my tongue out at him, “I’m working on it. It’s easier to remember than your name Mr… blah blah blah.”

“It’s Mr. Brewer, it’s not that hard.” He smirked at me, “I thought you said you saw the fun of this in Nebraska?”

“I do! It's just…” I bit my lip, “It makes me nervous, too, okay? This is so new and… I’m not sure I know how to do all of this.”

His smirk softened to a smile, “That’s okay, this’ll be a good run for ya. You’ll get the hang of it, but first,” he handed me a fencing sword, “help me teach these guys how to fence.”

He walked away towards the kids, and I followed quickly after, “I don’t know how to do that either.”

Eliot gave a brief demonstration, with me being mostly a prop. It was then time for the kids to try.

“Alright Widmark, get on the line, you’re up.”

Widmark looked around as if Eliot had not just asked him.

“Widmark, come on,” I urged him.

“Get on the line,” Eliot repeated, “Show ‘em what you got, man.”

Widmark went to stand on the line, but a taller boy tripped him. I went to help Widmark up from the floor.

Eliot immediately jumped in, “Hey! Take your helmet off. What’s your name?”

The boy complied, “Skylar Sanford.”

I immediately rolled my eyes at his tone.

“Skylar?” Eliot asked. After the boy affirmed he said, “Is that a boy’s name? Don’t do that again.”

He took Skylar and put him against Widmark on the mat. Widmark had to be directed to put his helmet on, but struggled and put it on backwards.

“Oh, Widmark-” I tried to correct him as the kids started to laugh, but Eliot beat me to it.

“What are you doing?” Eliot asked him after telling the class not to laugh. “There’s girls here. You’re better than that. Turn your hat around.”

Once Widmark did as he was told, Eliot started the match. It did not last long. Skylar quickly overpowered him, the buzzer indicating a hit and point ringing in my ears.

Strike one on helping Widmark.

Next up was Sophie with a spelling bee to prep for the state spelling bee next week. She held a tryout for a competition on Friday for the schools best spellers, plus Widmark. It all seemed to be going well with the words clearly marked in Widmark’s favor. Unfortunately there was one girl that rose to the challenge. Sophie was determined to get her to break, but I could see that it was not happening easily, if at all. I finally had to take a break and stepped out, running into Eliot again.

“What are you doing out here? Thought you were shadowing Sophie?” He asked me.

I leaned against the hallway wall, “I was, but she’s doing a spelling bee and there’s a girl in there spelling words I didn’t even know existed. It’s giving me a headache.”

Eliot sighed, “Another strike?”

I nodded, “Another strike.”

We just looked at each other for a minute causing me to remember something that I had been meaning to talk to him about, but we hadn’t been alone since after the previous job.

“Hey, uh,” I spoke up before he walked away, “I’ve been meaning to… I don’t know. It’s just, after the last job, I mentioned what you did for that kid, it seemed to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to apologize, I guess.”

He tilted his head at me before he responded, “Oh, uh, no you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wasn’t prepared. I didn’t think anyone heard about that…”

“I don’t think anyone else did, to be honest. I won’t bring stuff up like that again though if you don’t want me to.”

“No, not at all. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t…” He trailed off, but smiled. “We’re good, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.”

The bell rang and kids started to flow out into the hallway. He nodded his head down the hallway signaling that he had to go and I waved him off. I went to join Sophie in the auditorium when I heard her talking with Widmark.

“I try hard, all the time,” Widmark said, “but, no matter how much I want something, it never happens.”

“Oh sweetie,” Sophie replied, “What do you want?”

“I don’t know… I just,” Widmark frowned, “I want someone to like me. Does that get easier when you’re a grownup?”

I shook my head no, just to myself when Sophie answered him.

“Um, no. I don’t think it does.”

“You’re nice,” Widmark said, “but weird.”

Sophie shewed him off to class and he walked by me, “bye Ms. Jenny.”

“Bye Widmark,” I smiled at him as he walked off. I looked at Sophie once he left, and sighed.

This may be harder than we thought.

We met back up at Nate’s apartment this time, but I had snacks from mine, which I thought was needed in this situation. Hardison and Parker recounted their experience setting up equipment at the Fowler’s place.

“Let me just, can I get this straight?” Nate started, pacing around my kitchen, “Ok, alright, you two, you couldn’t rig a gym class and a spelling bee.” He turned towards Hardison and Parker, “and you two, you ran into the only FBI agents on the planet that recognize you?” He turned towards me, “what did you do?”

I raised my hands, full of chips, “I’m just shadowing.”

“I gotta be honest with you,” Eliot said, “I think we broke the kid even more.”

“We are the worst fairy godparents in the world!” Sophie exclaimed, dropping her spoon in her cup.

“Listen, we’ve still got to get Fowler out of the apartment so we can get in.”

“Yeah, except now, when he leaves there’ll be somebody waiting to kill him.”

“Can’t we use that? Isn’t that personal safety or whatever?” I asked, my mouth full.

“No,” Nate replied.

“Man, one of his victims wants payback more than he wants to be paid back,” Hardison said.

“Well, one of you two can identify the gunman, right?” Eliot asked.

“Yeah, sure. He stopped and let me take a picture of him as I was chasing him.”

“You know what? I’ve been around little kids all day, I don’t need to come home and do all this crap.”

“I’ve been in this pink shirt and these tight plaid pants, these old Webster loafers, this girl walking on my back…” Hardison went on as Parker handed Eliot her sketch pad.

“Is this the guy?” he asked, and I walked over to look at the drawing.

She hummed an affirmative.

The drawing was very detailed showing the face of a man, dark hair, slightly sunken eyes, drawn with a pen.

“See?” Eliot tossed the pad at Hardison.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Hardison remarked.

“I thought everyone could do that,” Parker replied.

I shook my head, “No Parker, not everyone can do that, that’s some talent you have there.”

She smiled at me proudly before Nate continued.

“Okay, alright, keep an eye on him. In the meantime, if they think you’re real FBI, be real FBI. I mean, use it to case the apartment.”

“So, I’m out of this and I’m on FBI detail with Parker and Hardison then,” Eliot concluded.

“Actually, no. I need you to be Coach Brewer.”

“There’s an armed gunman out there,” Eliot insisted, “you want me in the gym with kids named Skylar and Indigo?”

“Where did Coach Brewer go?” Nate raised the question.

“Shut up,” Sophie said, urging us to listen to the surveillance feed on the TVs.

Widmark was singing to himself, and was doing a pretty good job.

“The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of a king,” Sophie said, excitedly. I assumed she was quoting something, but I didn’t ask.

We all looked at each other for a moment before Nate smiled, “Sophie, how long would it take you to stage a musical?”

“Six weeks,” she answered.

“You have two days.”

I watched as the next day, Sophie lined up the kids, and instructed them to sing their science fair projects. When Widmark went, he wasn’t too bad, but his project was about mold, so kind of gross. Sophie encouraged him, and insisted he sing in the finale.

I smiled at him from the auditorium seats, and he had a slight smile himself.

The parents were outraged that this kid, this child, was to be in the starring role when his father had done so much to all of the parents, ripping them off. Nate explained them away, saying it was based on merit, and that his father should have nothing to do with it. He was right of course, it angered me that he had to explain that at all. This poor kid.

“Could you just please try to maybe not make this so difficult?” Nate asked Sophie.

“I can’t take you seriously with that dead cat on your head” Sophie replied.

Nate looked at me before he sat down next to her, but I only shrugged in agreement, his hair was atrocious.

“Eliot had trouble adjusting, alright, but he found a way to make his style work in this setting.”

I recalled the last class I watched him in, he had changed from private school style athletics to combat. He was enjoying it more than he let on.

“Look,” Sophie replied, “it’s the best I could manage under such short notice. The props are made, the kids have memorized their presentations, I’m just setting it to a bit of music.”

“Listen, I mean, let’s not forget why we’re here. Let’s not lose focus. The object is to get Fowler out of his apartment, not…”

“What, not Widmark, right? He’s just the bait.”

“Well that’s not fair.”

“You’re right Nate,” I cut in, “it’s not fair. It’s not fair to Widmark, this whole situation isn’t fair to him. The way people see him? His dad thinks he’s a loser, his mom sees him like a little baby, his classmates see him as the kid whose dad is the Grinch, who took everything. He…”

Sophie finished for me, “we just want people to see him as he really is.”

“He deserves that,” I added, “Everyone deserves that.”

The night of the musical was not going as smoothly as we had hoped. Hardison was going to be the one breaking into the apartment instead of Parker because of an FBI agent with a crush, and Widmark wasn’t on his musical game. I was helping direct kids to setting up, but I was getting nervous. It all came to a head when Sophie said she couldn’t find Widmark at all. I abandoned my post to help her look.

We finally found him in the bathroom, crying to himself.

“Widmark, you can’t let them win,” Sophie told him, “you can’t show them they’re getting to you.”

Nate spoke through the comms, “Sophie, no. Just talk to him, don’t tell him what to do or who to be. Just talk.”

Sophie lost her American accent, “I’m sorry Widmark.”

“For what?” He asked.

“For trying to con you into being brave. That’s what I do, I’m a bloody con artist. Look, I’m not very good at being honest, not even with my friends.”

Widmark finally came out of the stall and looked between us, “Do you have a lot of friends?”

“No,” we both responded.

I leaned against the sink and looked at him, “Can I tell you a secret Widmark?”

He nodded.

“When I was around your age, I was kind of like you, nobody really liked me, didn’t have any friends. You know who I was in school?”

He shook his head.

I looked at my feet before looking back at him, “I was the kid whose parents died, and that made me the weird one. Luckily that doesn’t mean anything anymore, and we have a few friends now.”

“I used to have friends,” Widmark said, “They don’t talk to me anymore, because of what my stepdad did.”

“That’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, don’t you?” Sophie asked him.

“Then why do they make fun of me?”

“Cause when they look at you, they see him. Just like they only saw my dead parents,” I responded.

“They’re not seeing you for who you really are,” Sophie responded.

Hardison and Parker were talking on comms, trying to get Hardison broken in and past the security, but I quickly tuned them out.

“Did you know I was an actress?” Sophie asked Widmark.

“No, are you good?” he asked.

She hummed, “Well, others don’t seem to think so.”

“Maybe they just can’t see you for who you are,” he concluded.

I kept quiet, thinking that I had my moment, she could have hers.

“You know what they say about acting? They say it’s about telling the truth, about sharing a little part of yourself that people don’t normally see. But, if you don’t- if you don’t really know yourself, then they think you’re lying… I think that’s my problem.”

I reached out and took her hand, comforting her for being vulnerable.

“I’ve been lying for so long that… I don’t even know what the truth is anymore.”

“I don’t want to lie to anybody,” Widmark said.

I laughed a little bit, “No, you don’t Widmark.”

Sophie stood and approached him, “You don’t have to Widmark. What you need to do is you just have to go out there, and be Widmark. Just tell the truth, be who you really are. If you can do that, then I promise you, people will believe in you.”

“Just like we believe in you.” I smiled at him as Sophie and I both exited the bathroom.

We rendezvoused with Eliot backstage.

“Widmark okay?”

“Guess we’re about to find out,” Sophie answered.

The lights dimmed in the auditorium, signaling the show was about to start. Hardison told us on comms that the safe he cracked was empty, cleaned out, giving us a problem, where was the money?

“Hate to tell you this, but that ain’t our biggest problem right now,” Eliot replied.

I turned to him, “What do you mean?”

He pulled me closer to where he was standing and subtly pointed to where he was looking. Above the auditorium stood a man who looked awfully like the drawing Parker made.

“We got company,” Eliot said. “How’d he know Fowler was gonna be here? Only ones who knew were us and the FBI.”

“Yeah, and Fowler himself,” Nate said. “Maybe we were wrong, maybe Fowler isn’t the target.”

“Then who?” Parker asked, then had to recover as she was still technically talking to the FBI agent.

“His FBI handlers. Fowler arranged to have them killed. He’s about to run,” Nate concluded.

“No man,” Hardison rebuffed, “there’s no way he could arrange that. He’s under house arrest. No phone calls, no internet, they’re even reading his mail. How could he arrange a hitman?”

“Let’s ask him,” Eliot answered. He was tracking his movements in the rafters, and pointed me over to Sophie to be a bit out of the way which I obliged.

“Feds confiscated his cell phone,” Hardison said, “They didn’t take Widmarks.”

“Really?” I asked, “What a jerk, he yelled at Widmark for losing that… Can Eliot punch Fowler when this is over? Can I?”

“No,” Nate replied.

“Maybe,” Eliot responded.

“Fowler’s getaway explains the empty safe,” Nate continued, ignoring us, “whatever cash he had on him, he took with him. And… I think I know where to look.”

“Wait,” Parker interjected, “Didn’t you search Fowler before he left?” She asked the agent.

“Of course, nothing on him except for that camera and some tapes.”

“Yeah, well there’s something in that bag, or on those tapes,” Nate insisted. “Sophie, y/n, can you swipe it?”

Sophie was on stage, “yes, I’m a little bit busy here.”

“You want me to do what?” I asked, I was still backstage where it was loud and I couldn’t believe what he was asking me, “I’m making my way to you.”

“Has anybody seen Widmark?” Sophie asked.

“Sophie, the job’s over,” Nate said. “What happens from here on is not our concern. We have other priorities”

“No way, no, no. The clinic isn’t the only victim here, I didn’t prop up this boy, just to see him fail. No way. I’m not letting that happen.”

Eliot engaged with the hitman and I tried to ignore the commotion in my ear.

“Uh, Nate?” Hardison said, “This phone has sent a bunch of text messages in the last forty-eight hours to some guy named Skylar.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Skylar’s a kid at this school.”

“Why would Fowler be texting a middle schooler?”

I made my way around the auditorium and stood beside Nate, “what do you want me to do?”

He held his hand up, “Nothing now.” He was looking in the audience, specifically at Skylar’s dad, “he wasn’t texting Skylar, he was texting Skylar’s dad.”

I watched as the man in question walked up towards the stage with a camera. He stumbled and picked up the camera bag next to Fowler, dropping his own.

“Mark Sanford’s an accomplice,” Nate said, “He set up the gunman. He just traded bags with Fowler.”

Hardison wasn’t having it, “No, man. Why would Sanford help Fowler? Isn’t he one of the guys who invested with him?”

I heard Widmark over the comms, “sorry I’m late.”

Sophie responded before putting him on stage, “no, no, you’re right on time.”

Eliot was still fighting the gunman backstage of which Sophie wasn’t happy about.

“Keep it off the stage, you’re gonna ruin his big finale!”

I laughed to myself as I could almost hear Eliot’s eyeroll.

Nate turned to me after Widmark finished his song, of which he did quite well in, and everyone was distracted by the standing ovation, “Wait here.” He walked down the aisle and grabbed the bag by Fowler with the hook of his cane before returning to me.

We turned the corner before opening the bag.

“Ah,” Nate said, looking inside, “Hardison, are you near your computer? I need you to check a name for me.”

“Go ahead.”

“Doug Fineman” Nate said as he opened up a passport from the bag, it had Fowler’s face, but clearly not his name. “Sanford is providing Fowler with a new identity, and a new life waiting for him in…”

I looked over his shoulder, “Bogota?”

Eliot and Sophie grabbed Sanford and took the bag that was previously Fowler’s. Sophie seemed to find something she liked in it and placed it in a tape player, playing it through the entire auditorium.

Out came Sanford’s voice, “I’m just saying you can’t make the returns too consistent. Ten percent growth every year, no matter what the market does? The SEC is going to ask questions.”

Then Fowler replied on tape, “Let me worry about the SEC work.”

“But we have to be careful.”

“My job is to buy off the regulators, your job is to bring in new money. Now this whole thing goes off the rails when you stop doing your job!”

By now Fowler was trying to run through the crowd away from the FBI handlers in the audience. I took the opportunity to step in front of him with my foot outstretched a bit further than necessary, effectively tripping him.

“Oh, Mr. Fowler I’m so sorry,” I apologized with an overt sweetness as the agent handcuffed him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the agent asked him.

Nate approached from behind me with the bag, offering it to the agent, “ja, ja… He dropped this. All of this. I thought his name was Fowler. I don’t know.”

Once the agent took it Nate shrugged and took my arm guiding me away with the illusion of me helping him walk along with his cane.

It sounded like backstage was taken care of with Sandford as the other agent arrested him. The agent made an attempt at flirting with Parker again while doing so, which made me smile. He was cute, I’d give him that, but the things he doesn’t know, especially about Parker, and a certain hacker…

The clinic stayed open, to everyone’s pleasure. I heard that Fowler’s wife and Widmark even worked there. Hopefully he had a better life ahead of him.

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom @kniselle

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader

25 notes · View notes