#Then again this is the same kid who became an alcoholic after like a few days

[the-halfling-prince]

I cannot express how much I know for a fact I'm not the first person to point this out but anyway

Love how BMW from Cory's pov is a hijinks filled sitcom but if it was from Shawn's pov it would absolutely be a drama. Like idk Shameless or smth (I haven't seen more than like 20 clips here and there of Shameless but I think I get the vibe)

[itsgrimeytime]

drunk on you (part one) || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader (no apocalypse!AU)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: You'd known Rick forever, as far back as freshman year. He was a guy you (if you were honest) had a crush on; there was just something in his stance and the low drawl of his voice. You'd say that feeling only got worse from there. Before you could blink, he was married and had a kid; and suddenly, despite your best efforts, you felt very out of place. You faded out of his life, and he yours. So when Rick shows up at your door (drunk out of his mind) about 5 years after the last time you spoke to him, you have a lot of questions.

TWs: mentioned infidelity (Shane and Lori), strained relationships, loss of friendship, mentioned pregnancy (Judith), divorce, alcohol, mention of gunshot wounds, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: y'all remember when he was drunk that one time? this is built off of that. also no apocalypse, just normal life. Enjoy :))]]

A long time ago, you met Rick Grimes.

He wasn't the kind of teen that was awkward, like maybe his arms were too long for his body -no. Rick Grimes was broad-shouldered and built like he was on the football team -even though you weren't exactly sure he was. Shane Walsh, his best friend, was the same -both unbelievably picturesque. You were a human then, so you'd had a thing for Rick, but then again, every single person in that school did.

And one day, he approached you with a grin, "Apparently you're really good at this?"

You tutored him, and your friendship just spiraled from there. The two of them became a trio, and despite insistent Shane's flirting (not that he meant any of it), your heart stayed consistent.

Even throughout college (or the police academy for them), they would come onto your campus for lunch -always stealing bits and pieces of yours. You could clearly remember meeting Rick's eyes over the table and your heart flipping in your chest; before he could notice though, you'd flick a piece of your lunch at him. He'd laugh then, and you'd move on.

They were there with you through life, boyfriends (who they often threatened to 'take care of'), heartbreaks, and failures.

You weren't there when he met Lori, but you were there when he introduced her to the group. She was picturesque beauty, just like him and Shane were picturesque handsome -they suited each other really well.

That day, you'd been strained and Shane could tell -he kicked up the flirting to a hundred, and you spent the whole time pushing him off and cussing him out. You didn't tell him, not verbally, but you knew he knew. And you trusted him not to tell.

Even when they got married, your lips stayed sealed. You were at the wedding actually, it had been a day you couldn't decide on. Half the day you were happy for your friend, and the other half, you felt like your heart had been stomped into the ground. You cried in the bathroom a few times, and Shane hovered close by.

He seemed to understand your pain a little too much, but you never got the courage to ask.

You were still trying, though, and had honestly become friends with Lori but you still felt your grasp on the group loosen. They were leaps ahead of you, both Shane and Rick in stable jobs -making their way up, and Rick and Lori married-

You just weren't there yet. And you didn't know how long it would take. Especially since all you could see in your head about the future was Rick. And that wasn't fair to Lori and you knew that but you couldn't stop-

And then, Lori was pregnant.

That was probably the last straw for you.

It wasn't that you stopped showing up, not really. You still came to the baby shower with cute, little baby booties and a bet on a boy. You even met Carl, and he helped. You could distract yourself with him, and every time you visited, you did just that. Lori and Rick would talk to Shane, and you would be lost in playing with Carl.

You stayed until he was three.

Rick had suddenly got the notion -you always knew he was attentive, but you'd never dreamed of this.

"I can tell somethin' is wrong with ya," he had said, hands sturdily on your arms, "-I'm 'ere if ya need me, you know that, right?"

You stopped being as vocal when you met up -trying to hide it all away, all it did was make Rick watch you more. So, you started leaving early and being busy -working yourself to the bone.

As time passed, naturally, they stopped inviting you. Your life shifted, and you moved out of town for your dream job -a fresh start. None of them knew that, and even though you could've said something, you were eager for a do-over.

Maybe this time you wouldn't fall in love with a married man, you thought to yourself.

And even though it was a joke, it hurt. You weren't sure that it ever wouldn't.

That brings you to now, at your apartment in a different city -eating some food you randomly pulled out of your pantry. It was late, and realistically, you should've been sleeping but the show that was on actually caught your attention. You'd let it slide and probably hate yourself in the morning.

Just as another revelation made its way onto your screen (might've been someone cheating on someone else? you weren't really following), you heard a noise.

You stiffened, raising an eyebrow -what the hell?

Patiently waiting, you heard it again -more incessant.

Knocks, you realize, someone was knocking at your door.

Flashing the time on your phone, 1:06 am, you frowned. There was no way anyone you knew was at your door at this hour; it was probably just some weirdo-

The knock came back and this time it was much louder, a pounding even.

You startled for a minute, before standing and making your way to the door -slowly, and keeping a foot propped against it, just in case. You lived in the city, this could really be anybody.

Instead, when you opened the door, you were met with a familiar face -your neighbor a few doors down. She was an older lady, sweet, but she certainly did not look sweet then.

"Do you know him?"

You hadn't even noticed at first, but her fist was clutching hard against the white t-shirt of someone -you shifted slightly to try and see them better.

And when you did...

"Rick?" You asked with disbelief layered in your tone -this could not be real.

"So, you do," she exhaled, letting him go.

He promptly turned to you, and you could just immediately tell he was wasted. He had that flush on his face, and the gleam in his eye you'd seen before at college parties.

Rick's blue eyes fell on you and he grinned real bright, mumbling out, "Y/N! 'S good to see you. I was lookin' for ya-"

"He's been knocking on every door on this floor for 30 minutes," she all but seethed, "-apparently, I'm the only one who answered."

With a breath, your mind spinning -you grabbed Rick's shoulder and pulled him inside.

"Thank you, Beatrice, really," you smiled, apologeticly, "-I'm so sorry he woke you up."

She waved you off, disappearing down the hall.

At that, you locked the door behind you and spun on your heel -determined to make sure this was real. That Rick Grimes was in your living room.

Sure enough, he stood by your couch -a little wobbly. He actually nearly fell but caught himself on the back of the couch.

"Alright, cowboy," you sighed, rushing over to move him to sit, "-Let's get you settled, yeah?"

Rick was putty in your hands as you pulled him onto the couch -body moving only when you forced it to. He smiled at you, big and beautiful, when you stepped back -and you hate to say it made your heart flutter. It was all coming back now, you needed to focus-

"Where 'ave you been?" He asked, and it was slurred, "-Haven't seen you in forever, ya know?"

"Rick, hey," you sat across from him on the coffee table, "-Why are you here? How do you even know where I live?"

"Shane told me," he hiccups, whole body jolting, "-told me ta come find ya. And I-"

He paused for a second, like he couldn't remember.

"I came to see you," he answered, before flashing another smile. He was always a happy drunk.

"Right," you said -not buying it. Had Shane just ditched him in the city? If so, why were they here?

And why did he ditch him in the first place?

You huffed out a breath and pulled out your phone -darting through your contacts. Your finger hovered over it for a second (just a moment of doubt), and pressed it.

It rang for a few minutes, before just going to voicemail.

Frowning, you scrolled back up, skimming again for a different name: Lori. You hoped she would answer, and she should. Her husband has gone missing, assumedly? Yeah, she should be concerned.

And again, it rang for a few minutes and then went to voicemail. ('Hey, this is Lori. Sorry I'm busy right now, but I'll get back to you.')

You huffed out a breath, what the hell?

You knew it was late, but her husband had just shown up at your door -blackout drunk. Did she even know he was out? Was Shane even the one who brought him here?

Rick leaned forward and you placed a hand to keep him upright instinctively. You pursed your lips, debating on how exactly to handle this.

"Rick?" He perked up at your voice, "-Where are Lori and Carl? Are they close?"

He frowned for a moment, before throwing himself back against the couch -you made sure he stayed sat up, "Carl goes wit' Lori on the weekends."

"Goes?" You questioned, you knew you hadn't been present for five years, but it seemed like his whole life had changed -you didn't dare assume, "Rick, are you and Lori not married anymore?"

"No," he scoffed, almost in defense, "-broke up a long time ago. You didn't kno' 'at?"

You swallowed, some sort of mix of shock and disbelief brewed up your throat: so her drunk ex-husband showed up at your door.

There was something in your chest, a little flame in your heart. You were ridiculous, happy about a divorce between some of your previously close friends? God, you were reaching new lows.

Well, wasn't like you could do anything else, so you stood up -grabbing a cup from your kitchen and filling it with water. Rick, thankfully, stayed in his spot on the couch -eyes following you as you walked back over to him.

"You're pretty," he slurred, "-always thought 'at, never said it."

Your heart jumped in your throat, focus, Y/N. He's drunk.

You shook your head, and found your place on the coffee table again, holding out the cup. When his hand extended, he wobbled a bit more and you let out a long sigh.

"Okay, fine," you muttered, scooting closer, "-open up."

He was still surprisingly obedient, sipping the water as you held it to his lips. His eyes, though, stayed focused on you -blue eyes barely blinking. It made you want to fidget in your seat, but you decidedly ignored it. Focus, focus.

With half the glass gone, you were satisfied. Pulling the cup back and sitting it beside you, his eyes did not waver -you were starting to get a little flustered now. Standing to go get a blanket and container (for any... accidents), you were stalled in place.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist -calloused and long, your brain short circuited a bit.

"Rick, why-"

"Even prettier now," he laughed out, grinning, "-thought ya was pretty th'n, but you're even prettier now! How did ya do 'at?"

Swallowing the skip of your heart, you pulled your hand out of his grasp and continued your walk. Shaking out your hands and exhaling a big breath, you stepped out of the closet with the goods and back toward the couch.

"Look," you started, shaking the container in your hand, "-this is where you throw up, okay? Not on my floor."

"Aye, aye," he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, but something you had missed him -even just as a friend. You'd lost him as a friend too, and that probably hurt more than anything. He was your rock and then, he was gone.

Blinking back the fog of your eyes, you set him up in the recliner -pulling his feet up and throwing the blanket over him. It was your extra one, a soft throw blanket, and wasn't long enough to cover his feet. Which, now that you noticed still had his shoes on them.

You let out another long sigh, before beginning to untie the laces.

"Shane told me 'at ya loved me," he said suddenly as if it was a realization and you stilled where you sat. Your breath stuttering in your chest, you focused on the laces for a moment.

"Why did he tell you that?"

Rick sighed, tilting his chin up to look at the ceiling, "Asked 'im 'bout ya, why ya left. If he knew anythin'."

You flinched, something in your chest sinking. He would've been sober then, that wasn't something you just brought up drunk. But, why were they even talking about you? Did they still do that? After all these years?

Feeling guilty, you stayed silent.

Rick didn't say anything else, oddly quiet, and when you looked up, you saw him fast asleep. Eyes fallen shut and head tilted all the way to the left, he looked like quite the picture. You laughed, a tiny one just to yourself.

Maybe, if he woke up and left tomorrow without saying a word -this visual could hold you over for a while. It reminded you of when you guys were the closest, before you started... drifting away.

You swallowed, tears burning the backs of your eyes -not letting them fall. You'd cried over this too many times.

Taking a deep breath in and one last look at Rick, you disappeared to your room. The comfort and familiarity of it made you feel a lot better, but if you focused you could hear the gentle hum of Rick's breathing. A reminder that he was there, that this wasn't all some bizarre dream.

Changing into pajamas, your eyes flickered over some old photos up on your walls -your friends, all smiling and happy. You, Rick, and Shane -sometimes even Lori. It was filled with other things like your diploma and degree, family photos, little souvenirs, and just pictures you'd taken of places you'd been.

Rick looked the same as then, just a little more built. A little sturdier, and more confident in himself; kind of like he knew his place or had found it.

He didn't need you.

You shook the thought from your head and headed to bed -flicking out the lamp on your nightstand and forcing everything within you to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, you realized you forgot to get the Tylenol out for Rick. So with reluctance (it was your day off), you pulled yourself out and dug through your drawers to find it. It was quiet, so you assumed, he was still asleep. You would be if you could've.

Instead, however, when you roamed to your bedroom door -you were stalled still. Rick was up, silently looking at your wall with intense focus. Those pictures were of you, some with new work friends, with your family, with just pretty sights you'd seen; it was all you. He was staring a bit like he was in an art museum and your photos were the most fascinating piece he'd ever seen.

Your heart sped up in your chest.

Clearing your throat, he spun to you and you for a second forgot how to speak because those eyes were very clearly aware -skipping all over you like he couldn't believe you were real. You were a little embarrassed you were in your pajamas, suddenly.

Blinking and clearing your head, you spoke -a little awkwardly, "I got you some medicine to help with the... the headache."

Rick pushed his lips together, almost like he wasn't sure what to do -hands grabbing at each other, and rocking a little on his feet. It was like he wanted to say something or do something, but he just couldn't find the words or maybe the will.

He laughed, a little nervously, "Thanks, I... I'm not sure what to say."

You swallowed, before deciding to say, "You don't have to say anything, I get it. You were stranded, you were drunk out of your mind. I'm glad to help. Really."

"Stranded?" He questioned, and you wordlessly handed him the medicine -hands brushing against his. You ignored it.

"Well, yeah," you said, now a little uncertain, "-I can't imagine your visit was planned. I... You said Shane told you to come here, so I assumed he ditched you somewhere. Because he would, if given the chance."

Rick laughed a little at the private knowledge of your friend but there was something strained there -hidden. You weren't sure if you should ask.

"Look," you exhaled, "-I'm not going to poke and prod. I know I've... missed somethings but that's nobody's fault but mine. So-"

Rick seemed to look at you a type of way then, and your mind chimed that 'he knew'.

"I'm not going to ask you anything," you finished, wringing your hands -keeping them busy, "-you don't... you don't have to tell me anything either. I... Yeah."

"Why not?" He offered, and you could tell somehow he was a little disheartened -it made guilt curl up in your stomach.

"It's been five years," you laughed, incredulously, "-I kind of stopped talking to you, Shane, and Lori without warning."

He seemed to flinch slightly at the names, and you had another worried thought -trying to read him ever-so-slightly, "I didn't reach out to ya either."

"That's not-"

"In fact, I remember we stopped invitin' ya," Rick clarified, stepping closer.

"Only because I wasn't showing up," you countered, "-or I was leaving early, or wasn't really... there."

He hummed a little, and you could tell he was processing it all.

"I just, I'm sorry," you finally said, "-I had a lot going on then, and I felt like... That doesn't matter, I'm just sorry for everything."

Something passed through his eyes then, and you thought maybe it was understanding. He knew of your... thing, and he wasn't stupid. You knew he could connect the dots, you just hoped he wouldn't say anything about them. You couldn't handle that.

"It matters," he responded, slowly, "-Ya know, I tried... I tried to see you after we stopped invitin' ya, and your place was up for rent. Door was locked, but I asked the neighbors and they said you'd been gone for months."

You didn't think that he would come looking for you, any of them really. Your paths in life had just diverted and you thought it was a clean break, but... it wasn't. Rick was worrying about you through it all.

Before you could voice anything more, he continued, "They didn't even know where ya went."

I looked for you went unsaid. Your stomach tossed with guilt, a heavy feeling in your gut. It was for the best, but he didn't quite know that.

Well, he did actually. He knew exactly why you had disappeared, so why was he talking about this? Did he want to... Did he want to hear it from you? Confirm it?

Did he not believe it?

You sighed, clearing your throat, "I just needed a fresh start. I was... I was struggling there, and needed someplace new."

"Why didn't ya talk to me?"

God, you were getting into this now. You really, really did not want to. Maybe you could just-

"I would've," he started, slow, and something in him read as guilty, "-I would've done what I could to help."

"Rick," you exhaled, "-I know that. But what was happening then... couldn't be helped. It was something I had to navigate on my own."

"But-"

"Look, Rick," you cleared your throat, "-that was a long time ago, and I feel like all we're doing is dredging up old feelings. That I really..."

You trailed off, eyes getting foggy, before centering yourself and clearing your throat, "Just know, I had a reason, a good reason to leave you guys. I maybe didn't do it right, but I did it how I had to."

Rick was looking at you like you were a shining gem, precious; like the world was a storm and he wanted to shelter you, protect you from it. You weren't sure how to process that, so you just decided not to then.

He seemed to pause for a moment, before asking, gently, "What exactly did I tell ya last night?"

"Only a little," you clarified, "-uh, Shane told you to come here, and that you and Lori... um, aren't together anymore."

"Nothing else?"

You sighed, voice catching in your throat, "I really don't want to do this, Rick."

"Do what?" He asked, brow quirked.

"I've already-" you clenched your fingernails into your palms, "Okay, I know what Shane said to you. You told me last night, okay? We don't have to talk about it."

"I want to," he spoke, stepping closer.

You groaned, "Why? Why does it matter?"

"I just want to know-"

"If it's true?" You interrupted, before letting out a long intake of breath, voice shaking -no time better than now, "-Because if that's what you want to know, I can answer it. Yes. Yes, it's true."

Rick seemed to pause for a moment, something smoothing through his eyes.

"I left because of it," you clarified, as well, answering all the questions he could ask, "-and I wasn't... I wasn't ever going to tell you."

The silence was overwhelming then, as you sucked in a breath and kept your eyes trained on the floor. Your heart beating so fast in your chest, it made your head go fuzzy -your legs felt a little weak. You must've wobbled a little, because-

"Woah," he rushed to your side, one hand holding your waist, "-c'mon, let's sit you down, sweetheart."

It was instinctual, the name, and it wasn't like it was the first time you'd heard it from him. But even so, it just confused you. Everything about Rick Grimes calmed you down, but everything about your feelings made you lose it. The balance was strung so tight, you didn't know how to react.

Now, he sat across from you on the coffee table, long legs bumping into your knees -one hand sturdily on your shoulder, trying to meet your eyes. He just wanted to see if you were okay.

"I'm fine," you breathed out -meeting his eyes, "-just. I'm fine."

Rick nodded, and hesitantly pulled his hand back -you could still feel the warmth sprouted there. It made your head swirl, and part of you wanted to scream your lungs out; you can't still feel it now, that's not fair.

"Can I tell ya something?"

"What is..." you pursued, "-something?"

"A story," he clarified, hands fidgeting, "-I told you 'bout me and Lori, I want to be more specific."

"Rick, you don't have to-"

He laid a hand on your knee, ever so slightly touching -it cut the words from your lips, "I want to."

You didn't say a word.

"Few years, after you left," he started, "-I got hurt on the job. Ended up in pursuit unprepared, and the guy got my shoulder."

His hand seemed to move to the shoulder on instinct, though the scar was hidden under the shirt. You wondered for a moment what it would look like, before washing the idea of his skin out of your brain.

"Shane still your partner? Or-" you rambled a little, "-I know you guys planned it like that."

"Yeah," he smiled, "-Shane was there, kept me awake. But I... I ended up in the hospital for about a year. Half in a coma, and the other half making sure I wouldn't go back into one-"

"Jesus Christ," you muttered out, instinctually.

"And that last day," he started, something in his voice tightening, and on instinct, your hand shot to his leg -comforting. His eyes lingered on it a bit too long, before he slowly placed his palm on top of your skin and gently flipped your hand over. Calloused fingertips wrapped around your hand, and suddenly, they were intertwined -out of his own volition.

You swallowed back the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, you're just comforting him, focus.

"Lori was pregnant," Rick sighed out, big and long -something in him hurt, but something far bigger past it. You could tell, he had processed a lot of this.

"But you were-"

Rick just looked at you then, thumb rhythmically rubbing the skin on the back of your hand.

Oh.

"Shane...?" You offered slowly, carefully.

He exhaled, shakily, and you squeezed his palm -his eyes lingering on it far too long again, "They'd been together for a while. Didn't tell me how long, but I could guess."

You frowned.

"I felt so... so betrayed, and alone-" he started, and there was something heavy in his voice then, "-all I could think about was you."

"Rick," you nearly cooed.

"If," he swallowed, looking up to stop the tears from coming out (you had the thought they weren't for the infidelity, not anymore), "-If you felt like this, and 'at's why you left. I just felt so..."

"That's not fair to yourself," you explained, "-you were going through something so different. I-"

"Was I?" He offered, "-Really? 'Cause I think it was the same sort of feelin'-"

"No, no," you responded, "-very different, Rick. You... You hadn't been kicked out of your own will, I... I was. I can't imagine what you went through."

"You kinda can," he hummed out, and you got the impression he was talking about your feelings. Sure, you'd been heartbroken for years but that was nothing compared to the betrayal he'd experienced.

"Rick, we never-" you cleared your throat before starting again, "-I never said anything. There was nothing built up like you were with Lori, the walls didn't crumble. It was just... me."

He seemed like he wanted to say something in particular to you then, but he seemed to swipe it out of his head. Like maybe he was waiting.

"They're gettin' married," he exhaled, and your heart froze, "-'s why I was 'ere. Shane's bachelor party."

"Jesus Christ, Rick, what the hell-"

"Don't worry 'bout me," he looked at you, straight in the eyes, "-I'm past it, really. Just... brings up a lot."

"I know, but still-" you hissed out, a little frustrated, "-maybe I can show up uninvited and spill wine on her dress. Ooh, or stomp on Shane's toes-"

Rick laughed then, and you felt something in your gut warm at the noise, even more, when you saw the smile slip across his lips. There was something in his eyes that was twinkling and warm, you couldn't quite name it but had seen it before.

"Shane told me a few years back," he suddenly spoke, eyes focused on you -you wanted to squirm a little in your seat.

"Told you what? About him and Lori?"

"No, that you..." he clarified, words stuttering to a stop. Something in your gut snapped, and words just started coming out.

"Look, Rick," you echoed, a little distantly, but meaning all the same, "-you don't have to pity me. I know it's been a long fucking time, since we were kids, but-"

His face seemed to slow, something in his mind, "Since we were kids?"

Shit.

"Forget that I said that," you cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute and feeling the fluster crawl up your throat (you tried to pull away your hand but he kept it tight), "-please. This is embarrassing enough."

"It's not," he spoke, comforting, "-don't be embarrassed. I'm just... I'm shocked. I never knew 'at... as far as high school?"

You sighed, succumbing, "Before I even met you. I was a member of the school population, about 80 percent of those people were into you so-"

"Yeah, sure," he hummed, a little in disbelief, "-but you?"

You didn't know exactly what that meant or what to say to that. It almost seemed like he was saying that you were leagues above him which was... unbelievable to say the least.

"I didn't know you were an option," he mumbled out, "-at all. I thought..."

"You really can't be this surprised."

"I am!" He offered in response, and you absent-mindedly noticed that he was still holding your hand. You tugged at it but he still didn't let up.

"There were other tutors, ya know," Rick mumbled out, slow and in a barely-there whisper.

"Of course," you laughed, "-it's high school."

"I didn't," he started, fidgeting with your hand, grip still solid but he was playing with your fingers, "-I didn't actually need the tutoring."

"Why would you-"

"'Thought ya were cute," he offered, and you swallowed heavily -trying again to pull your hand away. Focus. What could you even focus on anymore?

"Rick, don't-" your voice shook, and you pulled your hand back finally, "-don't do that."

"Do what?" He questioned, big blue eyes and your stomach was twisted in knots. You couldn't do this, not now.

"There's no," you echoed out, standing up and taking steps away from him, "-there was no us, and it's been five years. You don't even know me anymore."

"I want to," he stood, matching your eyes -something in him nearly pleading, "-I really want to."

You took a shaky breath in, taking some more steps back, "Rick, your mind is not clear. Your ex-wife is marrying the man she had an affair with, you are just lonely. And I will not be wanted because... because you just want to feel loved."

"I'm not," he breathed, desperately like the oxygen was being sucked out of his lungs, "-Y/N, I'm not-"

"I won't," you repeated, your eyes getting foggy and voice shaky, "-I won't, Rick. That's not fair."

"Look at me, sweetheart," he was soft and gentle, stepping forward and tilting your face up with his hands, "-I'm not."

"You-"

"I've had years to... to process me and Lori," he explained, slow and patient, "-and a few months after 'at Shane told me. I've had years to... to process you."

"I don't-" you exhaled.

"'S all new to me, but-" He dropped his hands to yours -wrapping his around them, "-I know I feel somethin'. Felt somethin' even then, I just didn't... know it."

"Rick, please," you hummed out, "-I can't do this. I really can't. It's been years-"

"I came lookin' for ya for a reason," he continued, moving his head to match your eyes, "-Shane didn't just drop me off. I got drunk for courage, and I don't think either of us knew just how much."

"You were here for me? I thought you said-"

"'Is bachelor party was a few cities over," he explained, "-Shane recognized the city name, and we got a cab."

"That is so stupid," you chastised, "-is Shane still out there? You guys could've-"

"He called Lori," he quickly interrupted, trying to soothe you, "-Think she picked 'im up."

"You think?"

"No, okay, she did," he reassured, his hands coming to rest on your arms, "-I know I wouldn't 'ave left if she didn't."

"Good," your breaths slowed, "-okay."

"Y/N," he started again, and you just couldn't.

"No, don't-" you began, but then you looked at him. Really looked at him. He was looking at you so carefully, like if he said a wrong word, you'd disappear. Or maybe like he could hardly believe you were standing in front of him.

Maybe he really-

You pursed your lips, letting out a long sigh, "Okay, look. I'll make you a deal."

Rick raised an eyebrow but still seemed so very eager. Excited even, you bit back a smile.

"When's the wedding?" You asked, gears turning in your head.

"A few months from now," he answered, and you could tell he was a little confused -the furrow of his brow and quirk of his lip. He was still so much the same.

"If you," you held his hands between the two of you, "-if you still feel the same then, we'll talk."

"'At's-" he opened his mouth.

"Your best friend and ex-wife are getting married, Rick," you reiterated, "-you do not have a clear mind, I can't believe it. But if you, by some miraculous reason, do, your feelings shouldn't change."

He pursed his lips, something shadowing over his face, sighing, "Okay."

"Don't make that face," you groaned, "-what I'm saying is completely sensible."

"It is," he agreed before his features fell into something else, "-just didn't wanna wait anymore, I guess."

"You're not going to guilt me, Grimes."

His eyes twinkled -mischievously, settling into a blinding smile and throwing your hands down in defeat, "'S worth a try."

"Plus," you added, "-we can catch up on what we missed. Might be nice."

"Ya don't 'ave to convince me anymore," he laughed, "-I'm doin' it."

You smiled at that, and his only got brighter because of it. You schooled your racing heart back into place.

"Friends?" You offered your hand for a shake -expectantly.

He smiled then, it reached his eyes and was all crinkly, "Friends."

[cheynovak]

Crush

Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) & Sam Winchester (platonic)  

Warnings: Fluff, Implied smut, body shaming, alcohol, trauma, nothing too extreme,  

This story does not follow the SPN timeline.  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  Words: 5166 

Y/N is a high school crush/friend of Sam, when they were 16 y/o they attended the same school for a while. She was one of the only kids who didn’t made fun of him, they became friends pretty quick. Sam always thought Y/N was a nice, friendly and cute girl, a little bigger than most of the girls in school but cute. Sam spends his entire time hanging out with her, trying to ask her to prom, only one problem, Y/N likes another, older guy, he didn’t know the older guy was Dean.  

 Now years later the brothers path crosses again with Y/N.   

Cursive are memories. 

~ Part 2 out now! ~

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

Dean looked at the menu in front of him, waiting for Sam, hoping he had more news over the case they were working on. Vampires, only this time the nest seemed big, they had killed a few they found, but somehow more and more people seemed missing. It looked like every time they took one down another one popped up.  

��Dean? Dean Winchester?” The older brother heard his name and looked up, to see the waitress. “Yes... that’s me?” He answered reluctantly. “It’s me... Y/N. A high school friend of Sam.” He took a good look this time.  - “Y/N?” Sam had just entered the diner. “It’s been so long! How are you!” He asked her while immediately pulling her in a hug.  “I’m great! Too long I know. How are you?”  

Dean witnessed the conversation, still not entirely sure who she was. He started to think about all the high schools they attended to. Sure he would have remembered it when Sam had a girl friend... definitely a girl this... hot. Unless he didn’t attend school anymore. And then he remembered.  

-- 

“Thanks Dean, for driving us!” - “No problem sweetheart.” He winked at Y/N while she got out of the car. “Sam, wait a sec I need to talk to you.” He held his brother back. “Can’t this wait after school? I’m going to ask Y/N to the dance.”  “Yeah, about the dance...” he mumbled under his breath. “Hey, Y/N wait up!” Sam rushed out of Dean’s car, he watched his little brother jog to the slightly chubby but cute girl, knowing he won’t be taking her to the dance.  

-- 

Dean remembered, making him unconsciously interrupt their conversation, without filtering his words first. “Now I remember... Y/N the chubby friend from when you were 17!” - “What the hell Dean! ” Sam hit his shoulder, while he looked apologetic over to Y/N, who seem to be amused by Dean’s bluntness. “Yeah, well that’s what most people remember of me.”  

“I’m sorry, you look great! You’ve changed... A lot!” Dean apologised in a yet flirty way, looking her up and down. “And you haven’t changed, have you.” Y/N laughed at his attempt. “Please tell me you’re staying in town a little longer this time?” She turned to Sam. “Eh, a few days at least.” - “Great...” she kept looking at him, “Jeez, almost forgot to take your order.” They talked a little more after they had their food and in between orders.  

“Hey if you want, we can stay a little longer after the job is finished.” Dean told his brother. “Maybe you and Y/N over there can catch up some lost time.” - “I don’t know Dean, she seems to have a great life I don’t want her to be involved in ours.” - “Did you ever go out with her?” - “No, she eh, liked someone else.” - “Really who?” - “Don’t know, an older guy, didn’t attend our school.” - “ Oh really? I seem to remember she liked you.” Dean felt bad for his brother.  

“You’re lucky again, Y/N.” Her co-worker said while they were making their orders. “What do you mean?”  - “You always get the handsome or cute boys at your tables.” She nodded to Sam and Dean. “Old friend of yours?” - “I went to school with that one...” she pointed at Sam. “And that is his older brother. He, eh was the first guy I ever kissed.” - “Lucky you.” Y/N her mind drifted away to an old memory.  

-- 

School dance was in two weeks, but Y/N still had no dress. All the dresses she tried on were either, too long, short or small. The popular girls who bullied Y/N for being overweight seemed to notice Y/N struggling in the store and decided to ad a little salt to the wound.  

Dean dropped Sam off at the library a few streets away, he had to run an errands for his dad and decided to buy some magazines at the store for himself, the store he needed was across from the store Y/N was in. He noticed her, standing in front of a mirror, she looked good, but he noticed her cheeks were red, she was almost crying. Then he heard the 3 popular girls walk out “Can’t believe little piggy thinks she will find a dress that will look good on her.” - “No way she finds a guy to take her.” Another one added.  

Dean felt bad for her since she was the only kid in Sam’s class who was nice to him, he walked in the store, the second she saw the older Winchester enter the store she fled to the fitting room. “Y/N? Are you ok?” He placed his ear next to the door, he could hear her sniff. “Yeah, yeah I'm great thanks.” - “Don’t lie to me sweetheart... Is it those girls?” - “They just make fun of me. Nothing special. I’m used to it.” - “It is if it makes you cry.” She didn’t answer. “Why don’t you show me your dress?” Y/N slowly unlocked the door, looking up with teary eyes, Dean still leaning on the fitting room. “They are right, I look ridiculous, I won’t find a dress that fits me.”  

“What are you talking about? You look amazing.” He smiled slightly. “You just say that to make me feel good.” She felt her cheeks glow, afraid to look up. “No, no, no you look stunning in this dress.”, “This one maybe, the others are horrible.” - “Then buy this one.” - “Can’t, too expensive.” Dean’s heart broke. Y/N got back in the dressing room, changed and hung the dress back.  “Hey, why don’t we go get some burgers?” Y/N was surprised. “You want to hang out with me?”  

Dean never really wanted to hang out with Sam and her, he always felt too cool she thought, he always dated the ‘hot girls’ she knew he was a player from what Sam told her, but him being nice to her made her feel good. “Hey eh, why don’t you go in and order already. I have to buy some things for my dad, I’ll be right with you.” - “Sure... You know what you want?” - “I’ll take what you‘ll have.”  

Y/N watched Dean drive off, only to see that the girls from before were at the same diner. Great, she thought. “Keep your head up Y/N, you can do this.” Little did she know Dean went back to the store to buy that dress she liked. He walked into the diner to see the girls standing around Y/N’s table. “ How much do you eat Y/N, no surprise no dress fits you.”  - “It’s for not for me, it’s for Dean.” - “Did you really think a boy would want to be seen with you?” - “Yeah, especially Sam’s hot brother.”  the 2nd girl added. Dean felt the anger boil inside him.  

“There you are sweetheart.” Dean said a little louder than needed, he walked past the three teenage bullies. “Sorry, it was busy at the store.”  He took the place beside her, pulled his arm around her, while his other hand holds her cheek. “Let me make it up to you.”  Without warning he kissed Y/N’s lips. Leaving the other girls stunned. Then he turned to them “Friends of yours?” - “Not really” she said bold, that kiss and his arm made her confident. Dean waved them goodbye, while keeping his arm around her almost for the entire time.  

-- 

Y/N her memory faded when she noticed Dean walking up to her. “Can I get the check?” He asked. “Sure” She smiled. “You know, I never got to thank you.”  - Dean smiled confused, changing the subject “... hey, we are eh, staying in town a little longer. Why don’t you give us a call on your day off.” he wrote his number on a napkin and shoved it forward. “Well, I don’t know.” Dean still looked confused. “Are you planning on kissing me and then leaving me again, Winchester?” she flirted, leaving Dean startled.  

“Ready?” Sam asked dropping a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Eh, yeah, I-I'm ready.” By the time Dean got to the Impala he remembered every detail. He had kissed her to shut those mean girls up, he and Y/N stayed at the diner talked, laughed, way longer than he was planning, he just felt bad for her but the longer he talked to her the more he actually cared for her, by the end Dean realised why Sam likes her so much, she was really smart, funny and mature. She made him smile like no one had done in years.  

-- 

He dropped her off at her house, but not before he kissed her again in the impala, “I, eh heard you have no date to the school dance yet.” He asked nervous. “No, I don’t.” Y/N’s heart was racing and her head spinning, is he really asking her what she thought? “Well, I-If you would like, I have no plans that night...” He looked up at her, she responded by pulling him in for another kiss.  

He opened her door for her, pinned her against the car and asked her not to tell Sam yet. “I want to tell him myself.”  

-- 

“Dean?” - ” Hm?” - “Why so quiet?” Sam asked in the car. “What? Oh nothing, nothing.”  

The next day Sam and Dean split up again, Dean wanted to surprise Y/N after work now he fully remembered. But he saw Y/N and Sam walk out of the diner, holding a milkshake, she had her arm wrapped around Sam’s arm. They were laughing, too involved in their conversation to notice Dean at the corner of the street. He could see the two of them being the perfect item since they were so similar, he for some reason even forgot about her. He decided not to drag himself down and went for a drink at the local pub.  

“You know, you never told me who the guy was who took you to the dance.” Sam casually asked Y/N while taking a seat at the bench in the park. “Wow, he never told you did he?” Sam looked confused. “Dean... He asked me.” - “Dean... my brother Dean?” - “Yeah... Please don’t tell me you’re going to mad at him? It was ages ago.” - “No, oh no not at all, it just makes sense.” Sam laughs sincere. “Why are you laughing?” - “He acted all weird yesterday morning, after seeing you and I can remember he spend all dad’s money, later he admitted it was on a dress for a girl, didn’t want to tell us who. And before leaving he snuck out.“ - “He brought that dress to our front door, with a note, telling you guys were leaving.”  

-- 

The night of the school dance Y/N got nervous, she still had no dress but Dean told her not to worry. “Y/N!” - She heard her dad call out to her “Come down here honey.” The second she got the end of the stairs she saw her dad holding a bag, a black clothing cover. “I think this is for you.” He helped her open it. Y/N recognised the dress immediately. A little note dropped out of the bag. “I’m sorry sweetheart, our dad decided to move today. I wished I could see you in this dress, no doubt you will be the most beautiful girl. D.”  

--  

“Did you go?” - “Sorry?” - “Did you go?” Sam repeated the question. “No, I didn’t. I wanted but it wouldn’t be the same without my best friend.” She said bumping her shoulder to his arm. “You know, I really felt bad when you said you liked someone else.” He admitted looking shy at her. “But I’m glad it was Dean. He is a nice guy.” - “Ha, not what you said years ago.” - “Yeah, well in my defence he did get all the girls, even the once I liked back then.” He bumped her back. “I think he still likes you.” Sam casually said. “What? Oh, come on Sam. It was years ago, he didn’t even recognise me at the diner yesterday.” - “I’m serious Y/N he acts strange, his I like a girl but I'm afraid to say it, strange, call him.” - “You don’t mind?” She asked afraid of his answer. “No, not at all, to be fair, Jess is still in my heart and mind.”  

Sam and Y/N walked back to the diner where she parked her car. “Oh my god... He still drives that impala?” She asked while crossing the street to see the car up close. “Dean’s baby.” - “Great memories.” She said looking inside the car. “Oh please don’t tell me... you two...” Sam looked disgusted. “What?” Then it hit her “Oh god, no Sam! Dean and I, we never did, never...”  Sam looked relieved, he looked around “He is probably in that pub over there.” He pointed out. “It’s now or never Y/N.” He smiled like a child who had a secret. “Fine, I’ll talk to him.”  

Y/N walked in, a little nervous, if Dean really hasn’t changed, he had found himself a hot girl by now. To her surprise he was sitting alone at the bar, drinking a beer while watching the game on the small tv above the bar. 

“Hi stranger.” She smiled while taking the seat next to him. “Mind me sitting here?” Y/N asked when she saw his surprised face. “Yes, I mean no, no please sit.” - “I eh, I saw your car outside thought I’d say hello... Sam and I were at the park, reminiscing about high school. Would have been great if you were there” - “I saw you two when I walked to the diner, didn’t want to interfere your date.” - “Date?! Oh no Sam and I weren’t on a date.” -” Well, I think you two should.” Dean answered looking back at his beer. “Considering your history and both being really similar personalities and all.”  

“I’m afraid a little too similar.” Dean looked up. “Don’t get me wrong, Sam still an amazing person... I like him, but I might still like his older brother a bit more.” Y/N was afraid to look directly in Dean’s eyes when she confessed that. “Even when he didn’t take you to the dance like he promised?” - “Even when he didn’t recognise me.” Dean felt his cheeks burn, “You have changed a lot.”  

“It’s ok, deep down I knew it wasn’t the same for you like it was for me.” Y/N said without feeling any grudges. “At the beginning maybe, but after that day at the diner, after that first kiss...” Dean felt bold admitting this. “Please don’t tell me that you fell for the chubby girl?” - “I did.” - “You never do.” - “Oh I did, I fell hard, I used my dad’s money to buy you that dress! He was pissed!”  

“Sam told me, you didn’t have to get into trouble for me.” - “at least you were the prettiest girl at that dance.” - “I didn’t go.” - “What!” Dean dropped his beer back at the bar. “My date and best friend were abducted by their father, I didn’t want to be alone.” She joked but was serious about the alone part.  

After a few beers Y/N and Dean found themselves still at the bar. Laughing, joking and even flirting. 

“As much as I don’t want this night to end, I have to go. I have an early shift tomorrow.” They both stepped out realizing it was late, the sun had gone down. “Let me drive you.” - “Don’t you think you had a little too much to drink?” - “Bullshit, I can drive get in.” He said while holding her door. Y/N got in and immediately recognized the same smell as all those years ago.  

While driving Dean remembered their last night together.  

-- 

Dean had asked Y/N to go to the movies with him; to his surprise she accepted. During the movie he couldn’t keep his eyes on the screen. He kept looking over at Y/N wondering how to tell Sam he fell for his best friend, for his crush. He felt guilty but couldn’t keep sneaking around with her. “Sam asked me to the dance Yesterday.” She whispered without looking at him. "What did you say?” Dean asked, shifting in his seat, feeling a little nervous.  “That I liked someone else.” He could see her cheeks blushing. While his heart made a jump.  

“Oh really?” - “Uhu, he is handsome, a little older, a real prince charming, I didn’t tell all that to Sam, obviously.” - “Well, tell me who is this prince I need to fight?” he joked while playfull attack her, kissing and licking her neck, which made her giggle. His lips found hers, the kiss deepened “Let’s get out of here.”  

When they walked out of the theatre, holding hands, he saw his dad outside. He pulled her back hushing her with his hand on her mouth. “He has no idea I’m here.” he whispered in her ear. When he was out of side they ran to the car, and Dean drove them to an open spot next to the football pitch at their school. He pulled her closer to him, immediately kissing her again, seemingly not getting enough of Y/N.   

 

His hand moved under shirt, over her stomach, making her clench up and pulling back. 

Dean let go of her “Did I do something wrong?” - “I’m just not really comfortable in my skin.” She admitted shy. “Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart” - “it’s ok, I-I just never. No guy ever touched me like that. Probably because of my... size.” - “Don’t be ridiculous, you look amazing. I don’t get it why no guy ever took a change to be with you before.”  

But Dean held back the rest of the night, making her comfortable again. Keeping it to kissing and touching above the clothes. He didn’t want to push her away, thinking she deserved to know not all man are the same.  

--  

The drive home was quiet and filled with tension. Seeing Dean driving his car made Y/N feeling warm and safe again. He looked the same but at the same time different, broken. He looked at her, noticed her staring. “Like what you’re seeing sweetheart?” She blushed, looking at her hands that were folded on her lap. “Sorry.” - “Don’t be, I like it, reminds me of the good old days.” he jokes.  

“Here we are.” Dean said trying to sound neutral, but his heart beats fast. “Why don’t you come inside for a second, I have something to show you.” Y/N said very enthusiasts.  Dean followed her up to her apartment giving himself a peptalk, thinking this may be the moment. “Wait here.” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.  

He looked around, no pictures or signs of a man. “Great!” he mumbled. “What was that?” she asked? Dean flinched “Nothing!” He turned around to see Y/N in the dress he bought for her.  

“Wow” Was all he managed to say. “It’s a little big, I know but I kept it.” She said while looking down at herself, not noticing Dean getting closer, “The first boy I ever loved gave it to me.” She looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes. Feeling the air shifting. “I never thanked you for the dress, did I?” Dean’s eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes. “No, not really.” his lip pulled up in a half smile.  

“Hm. In that case.” Y/N’s hands moved over his shoulder, neck, to the back of his head, feeling his hair move between her fingers. Pulling him closer. “Thank you.” she whispered against his lips before closing the space with hers. Dean still tasted the same as she remembered, his full lips felt even better than before. Dean’s hands moved up to hold her ribs, pulling her closer to him but letting go of her lips. “Remind me to buy you more dresses.” she smiled before he finds her lips again.  

After a long passioned kiss Y/N spoke again, “I’m going to put on something more, comfy, mind helping me with the zipper?” She asked while turning her back to Dean. Knowing very well what she was doing. Dean moved her hair to one side of her shoulders, kissing the one that was showing, while unzipping her dress, letting it fall on to the floor. His hands roaming over her body, Y/N’s head fell back, letting out a deep breath, while he moved over to that one spot behind her ear.  

“Still as beautiful as I remember.” He whispered in her ear while he held on to her hips. Y/N turned around finding his lips again, walking him back to find the couch. Dean sat down slowly, while Y/N took a seat on his lap, straddling him. Dean’s hands holding her hips, his finger brushing over her ass, it was the first time she paid no attention to her own body, she usually was very well aware of the stretchmarks she had from being fuller, but for some reason Dean made her forget all of that.  

Their kisses deepen, hips grinding, breaths getting heavier, hands roaming each other's body, hungry for more... Until they were interrupted by the sound of Dean’s phone. Dean searched for his phone, “It’s Sam. He can wait.” Dean said tossing the phone on the other side of the couch, only to pull her back in for more, but his phone rang again. “D-Dean, maybe you need to pick up.” Y/N said between kisses. 

Dean sighs picking up the phone, “Sammy?” - “Dean? I found the nest, where are you, I need back up.” - “I eh, I am... I’m on my way.” He said, while looking apologetic to Y/N. - “Brother in need?” she asked still sitting on his lap. “I’m sorry, I really need to go.” He kissed her, holding her face in his hands. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.” he said looking deep in her eyes, just to be sure she knew he meant it. She nodded.  

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N kissed Dean and closed the door behind him, slightly hating Sam for ruing the moment, but over the moon, feeling the same butterflies as she felt all those years ago.  Y/N got ready for bed, Dean promised to have breakfast at the diner tomorrow and to pick her up after her shift, so there was no reason not to get in her pj’s. 

But by the time she got to the bathroom she heard a knock on the door. Smiling she yelled “Forgot something, Dean?” Only to open the door seeing no-one. She stepped outside to feel a presents behind her...  

Dean pulled over at the motel he and Sam stayed, so he could pick up his brother, before taking down the vamps nest. “Really Sam, fighting a nest in the middle of the night, smooth timing!” - “I thought the fast we take them out the quicker we can move on.” the younger brother looked at his sibling putting the weapons and the machetes in the car. “Unless you have a reason to stay.” Dean gave his brother a dead stare before closing the trunk.  

“Did you talk to Y/N yet?” Sam was curious. “Well, since you ask so nicely. We were in the middle of a... conversation, when you called.” he emphasised but keeping his eyes on the road. “That escalated quick.” Sam smirked. “I really think you should give her the benefit of the doubt and think, maybe, just maybe she is your ticket out of this life.” - “And leave you alone? No way.”  

“Think about it Dean, we liked living here. This town, the people we were mad at dad for leaving, again.” - “You were always mad at dad, you left for college.” - “Y/N’s idea.” - “Really?” Dean looked over to his brother this time. “Y/N told you to go study law?” - “No, she told me that we were more than our dad wanted us to be. That we could do what we wanted. Bet she didn’t want you to be in dad’s footsteps.”  

The rest of the ride the brothers were quiet. Sam’s words lingered in Dean’s head. Maybe there was a way to be with Y/N. He could tell her everything, no there was no way he would let her in to this life.  

The Winchesters arrived at the old warehouse where the nest was. When they entered, they immediately saw Y/N tight up to a chair at the back, unconscious. “Good for you to show up, I figured since you two killed my girl, I might just take yours.” One of the vamps spoke. “It’s remarkable how the smell of humas linger on our dead. So easy to track them down. And like today we were very lucky to find us a little surprise.” - “Let her go you son of a bitch!” Dean growled.  

Y/N heard Sam’s voice in a distance. “Y/N? Y/N wake up.” She slowly opened her eyes. “S-Sam? What happened. W-where am I?” She looked around, the haze in front of her eyes disappeared, she saw Dean chopping of the head of the last vampire, making her scream. “Hey, hey sweetheart, you’re ok.” He came running towards her. Y/N was too afraid to react, trying to wrap her head around the things that happened.  Only moments before she lost consciousness again.

Dean carried Y/N to the car, the vampire drank so much blood she felt too weak even to stand on her legs.  

The drive home was filled with awkward silence, Sam kept looking back at her trying to see how she was doing, but Y/N kept looking outside the window, trying to hold back the tears. Dean parked outside the motel they were staying, while Sam tried to help her out of the car. “What are we doing here? I thought you would bring me home?” Dean could hear the fear in her voice.  

“Home isn’t safe now sweetheart.” - “And this motel is?” - “It’s just for the night, tomorrow we check out your place and if it’s safe we can take you home.” Sam answered in his sweet voice. 

Sam supported her while they walked inside, her eyes roaming the place. “If there is anything we can...” - “I would like to take a bath.” She interrupted Dean, still not giving him a look. Y/N grabbed Sam’s arm again, “Can you give me a hand?” Sam looked over at his brother, hesitated before he answered “Eh, yeah sure.”  

Sam filled the tub before helping her with her clothes, in any other situation Y/N would have felt embarrassed but after tonight she didn’t care anymore. Sam held her arm when she stepped in the bath. She could feel the warm water touching her skin, stinging at the small bite marks that covered her body. “Are you going to be ok?” Sam asked before leaving her alone for a minute. “I’m fine Sam, thank you.” Sam left de door slightly open, Dean still stood in the middle of the room, he looked at her while his brother walked toward him, seeing her back all bruised.  

Y/N heard the brothers talk, “Why won’t she talk to me Sammy?” She could hear the pain in Dean’s voice. ” One, she just got ambushed by vampires. And two she saw you chop off someone’s head.” Sam took a deep breath. “She is probably traumatised, look at all the bite marks and bruises on her, they drained her, to the point of fainting. Give her some time.” He whispered knowing Dean meant well. “I’m going to get some painkillers and bandages for her.” He padded his brother’s shoulder. “Be right back.” 

Dean leaned against the bathroom door. “Y/N?... May I come in?” He waited for an answer, but she didn’t respond. Dean slowly walked in kneeling next to her. He slowly lifted his hand to caress her hair. At first, she flinched but the second she truly felt his soft touch, she couldn’t hold back her tears. Dean shifted on to the side of the tub, her head fell against his thigh. He held her hand and stroke her hair with the other, while he whispered to her over and over reassuring words “Shh, you’re going to be ok, I’m here.”  

By the time Sam got back he heard Dean and Y/N talk in the bathroom. As he walked over to take a peek, he saw Y/N in one of Dean’s old shirts while he towel dried her hair, or at least he was trying to. She was asking him questions about what happened, and he answered them honestly. Dean walked Y/N out of the bathroom towards his bed. “You need some sleep, take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” he said while tucking her in. “Are you sure?” her voice was still very shaky. He kissed her head in response.  

Later that night Y/N woke up from a bad dream or was it a memory. She looked around the room to find something to recognise, seeing Dean sleeping on the couch he looked so peaceful yet in a very uncomfortable position. “Dean? Dean?” She whispered, by the third time he woke up. “Dean?” He woke up startled rushing over to her. What’s wrong?”  

Y/N opened the blankets, gesturing him to lay down next to her, doubtfully he crawled into bed next to her. For a second, they were looking into each other’s eyes. If the circumstanced where different he would have kissed her now. But instead, she pulled herself closer to him, her face was snugged against his shirt, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Dean’s chin touching her hair, he tugged an arm around her pulling her close. She let go of a sigh “I had a bad dream.” She confessed. “I’m here, try to get some sleep.” he kissed her head.  

--

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode IX

Summary: You and Anakin seem to be having a peaceful relation, compared to how it was like a few weeks ago.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, FLUFF!! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!

Word count: 3.8k

----

Louise:

We were sitting in a booth at the bar, celebrating Cal's birthday. He invited only a few people, and it surprised me he was brave enough to talk to Anakin — who didn't even say a word, his face was already denying the invitation. But my friend managed to convince him to stay, at least for a while.

I was sitting next to Adeline, who had Poe Dameron on her other side. While Kestis was sitting in front of her, next to Poe's friend, Finn, and Anakin facing me every once in a while. All of us were having a drink, eating snacks and chatting about anything.

It was very noticeable how Anakin was feeling uncomfortable being here with us. He could barely hold eye contact with any of them, and when I would dart my eyes over him, he would dodge it and stare at his drink like nothing happened. He was holding his glass with his flesh hand, thumb running over the rim, while the other one was resting on the table. The line formed on his lips was looking the same for several minutes, and obviously I noticed that because he hasn’t touched his drink ever since he closed his mouth after he spoke for like five seconds. 

Adeline nudged my arm with hers, her mouth coming to my ear “You think Finn is single? He’s a charming guy” 

I chuckle at her words and shake my head. Finn is a nice man, who we found out served the First Order before joining the Resistance. His dark skin is pretty smooth and he has a few scars over his face. We haven’t learned much about him, except that he and Poe became best friends after their missions together. 

“You’ll have to ask him” I smile as I sip on my strawberry flavored drink. I promised myself I wouldn’t get a lot of alcohol, because the hangover always hits me the next day. 

I look over Anakin, who’s still sitting idly watching as the guys talk about whatever it is, because I can’t be bothered to listen to their subject. Poe points his hand over Skywalker and his eyes flicker between him and Cal. Now that I’m listening, they were talking about the day those battle droids broke into the Temple. 

“Your kid was here too?” Finn asks in disbelief, after the pilot starts explaining the story, looking at Anakin. He lifts his hand up to his lips, barely agreeing when he downed the rest of the drink. 

“He went after Luke because (Y/N) went back to hide themselves” Dameron seemed to be chirpy even though the situation was completely opposite to it. But I guess it’s because he almost never gets to fight like that. 

Anakin placed the glass over the table, still holding it for dear life. His body language practically screams that he’s uncomfortable and he’s trying his best to disguise the fact that he would rather be anywhere but here. And then he nods again. 

“And the weirdest thing is that he didn’t leave (Y/N/N) behind” Cal chimed in and we all shot our heads towards him. “Because he can’t stand her” 

I don’t know why he still keeps bothering me and Anakin with the same thing over and over. It’s been a while since that happened and I’m past it. Kestis didn’t seem to have the same feeling, since he’s always bringing it up and making conversations about it when it’s not even necessary. 

I see how Anakin stiffens his body and holds the empty glass tightly around his flesh hand. Finn is about to comment over his statement, but I speak first. 

“Cal, just get over it. It’s fine, and even if that was true, he stayed and helped me” I try to make it less awkward, especially when we have a guest that barely knows the rest of us like Poe does. 

The redhead just shrugs and grabs a mouthful of snacks, as Poe keeps narrating everything that happened to him while I was following Skywalker that day. And of course, Anakin would hate to admit to anyone that he didn’t hesitate to help me that day. Especially after we got to the medical bay when he held my wrist and comforted me. 

We keep laughing and talking, still ordering food and drinks and I can already feel my face blushing from the alcohol, which can never be good. Adeline is trying to flirt with Finn, who gives her smiles and looks away when he feels a little shy. Anakin didn’t seem to care if he was drinking the content all at once, ordering another one when a waiter or a waitress walks by. I don’t think he can manage alcohol very well, given that he doesn’t seem drunk at all and if he is, he’s hiding it very well. 

Poe starts reminiscing the first time he and Anakin met, when Luke was still a baby. They were on the same mission coincidentally, and the pilot helped him get back to the Temple because he was beaten to a pulp, he’d lost his lightsaber and his clothes were trashed.

I don’t know how the conversation took a turn, but Dameron mentioned Order 66 for a reason, because the Resistance was called over to help knock the troopers and the others down. I don’t remember much about it, because I wasn’t living here by the time it happened. 

“That was when he killed younglings, wasn’t it?” Cal questioned without hesitation. I feel my stomach turn to a knot, and the aura between all of us changed when Anakin broke the glass, turning it into pieces. 

We all watch in surprise as he stands up from his seat and leaves the table, his boots heavily hitting the floor as he vanishes through the bar. I look over Kestis, who’s still deadpanned, and I raise a brow at him.

“What the fuck was that for, Cal?” I sneer and my voice cracks. I’m not defending Anakin for what he did, obviously, but that was just really insensitive of him to say. 

“Isn’t that the truth?” He fires back and leans his elbow against the table, shaking his head and leaving a sarcastic laugh. “What, now you’re gonna feel bad for the man that killed children?”

I’m just glad Anakin just left before he could hear all the shit Cal was talking about. I don’t even give him another response, getting up from my seat and following the Jedi to wherever he went. From my back, I can hear Dameron and Adeline scolding him, both really mad at his words. 

I walk through the small crowds of people spread around the bar, looking at every corner to find any sign of him, but it’s a failed mission. I have no idea where he can possibly hide or if he’s even at the bar anymore.

The next best thing was to ask the bartenders and waiters for information, but they ask for credits before giving an answer. Mercenary dickheads. One of them tells me he went to the back door that leads to a secluded bathroom. The room is mostly being used by the employees. 

I walk towards the place, facing the closed door. So much for nothing. I roll my eyes and take a sharp inhale, I need to control myself before I get to convince him to open it. But the second my hand grazes the doorknob, he speaks through a shaky tone. 

“It’s unlocked” He says while still doing whatever he’s doing in there and I push the door open. 

He’s standing in front of the sink, washing his bloody hand and picking what looks like glass shrapnel, hissing at the touch. Anakin seems to be having issues with getting rid of it since he’s using his robotic hand, the pads of it not doing the work it should. His head is hanging low as it almost touches his chest and I watch his shoulders tense up every other second. 

“Let me help you” I take a step next to him, trying to hold his hand into mine but he pushes it back. 

He doesn’t say a word, only bringing it back under the faucet. Anakin likes it difficult, he makes it a challenge to deal with him but I’ve already learned his demeanor. I know when he’s willing to piss someone off or threaten them, and that’s not it. He’s probably disappointed and feeling guilty, but I can feel his body language change when I’m close to him for a reason. 

“Anakin, just let me” I try again, this time gently cupping his hand with both of mine. I look over his scraped skin, most of it with only a few superficial cuts. He gave in with a sigh leaving his lips. 

I tried to pick up the smaller pieces carefully, my eyes focusing on every inch of his skin. I noticed how it’s littered with fainted scars along his palm, a few of them deeper than the others. He clears his throat, ripping me off of my distraction. My fingertips from my left hand keep my hold on his, while my other ones are finally removing the shrapnel left.

I lean his hand again under the running water and grab a towel to cover it. It’s probably not even sanitary to do it, but it’s the only thing that can keep the blood from coming off again. I can hear his heavy breath above me, his eyes gazing at both of our hands. 

“Why do you always do that?” He asks suddenly, making me snap my head back to look at him. 

I furrow my brows at his question and tilt my head “Do what, exactly?” 

“Do this, help me. It’s not the first time” Anakin rasps, his voice is deep and he carries a different look on his face. This one I can’t decipher. 

“I do that to everyone, I guess” I shrug, knowing that isn’t exactly the truth. I like to help out people I know and care about. And for some reason, I feel like he needs someone to be around and help him, care about him. 

Anakin shifts his gaze at me, his eyes scanning mine. He definitely knows what I’m thinking about. “No, you’re lying. Why are you here with me?” 

He doesn’t raise his voice or tower over me, even though he still has a frown over his face. 

“I just- I guess I care about you” My voice is wavering slightly, and I feel nervous. 

He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a second. Opening them, his pupils are dilated and I can barely see the blue in there. “Why? I mean, why do you care? I’ve been nothing but a dick to you lately”

Did I ever think about why I really care? I don’t even know if I even have an answer to that. Which he realizes and uses his free hand to reach over my upper arm and hold it. The touch makes my skin shiver and my heart race. 

What the hell is happening to me? I wasn’t supposed to feel it that way. The way he scans me over and slides his tongue over his bottom lip, like he’s trying to read me. I watch with wide eyes when he takes a step over to me, still squeezing my arm gently. 

“I feel like you need someone to care about you” My words come out stuttering and I curse myself for saying that. “I think no one really knows how it feels like to be miserable and have people looking at you the wrong way” 

Anakin doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he reaches closer to my face and lowers his head as our foreheads almost touch. He still breathes heavily, his breath hits my face and I don’t know where I should rest my hands so I keep one of them on his hand. I felt a shockwave strike my body when I noticed his robotic hand sliding up to my collarbone until it reached my jaw. 

His thumb ghosted over my cheek and I felt like they were burning red from the reaction, while I tried to hold his hand against mine for some kind of support. 

“Stop” He barely whispered, his eyes were still holding my gaze. I feel like I have a lump in my throat. “Stop feeling sorry for me, I don’t like that”

My brows crease in confusion, even though I know why he would feel as though someone would pity him. “I don’t feel sorry for you. I empathize with you, I know it’s not easy to live like this”

Even though I don’t know what the hell is happening, my words are more than valid and I make sure I don’t lie. I never saw him as a killer, as much as people would consider him given everything he’s been through, all I saw him as was a broken man trying to pick up what was left for him. Every day he was dealing with his regrets, his sorrows. 

I would see him debating against his own anger and rage, and not one living soul would stand up for him enough to show him that he can be forgiven. Anakin is looking for his redemption, his forgiveness, but no one is willing to give that to him. 

On the other hand, Poe has been a good friend. He knows what Skywalker has been through since he was younger, he still looks up to him as a role model, because he knows the Jedi never gave up on everything he worked for even when he fell apart. Poe still thinks there’s a good man inside and he tries to make the best of it when he jokes around and reaches a hand over to him, knowing Anakin won’t always accept. 

This is what he needs. Maybe he doesn’t need someone romantically, he just needs someone to reassure him that he’s still worth being a Jedi. 

“Then stop that too. I don’t need any of that” He shakes his head, but his look says otherwise. He’s fighting against letting someone in. “I don’t want that. I don’t want any of it. I can’t trust you” 

“Look at me, Skywalker” I use my other hand to grip his chin and lift his face up a few inches enough for him to look at me “I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking you to give yourself a chance to see things differently” 

Anakin struggles to look at me, snapping his eyes closed. This time, he leans in and finally rests his forehead against mine. From where I’m standing, I can see his Adam's apple bobbing as an attempt to swallow his pride. This is how I consider this, he’s trying to be conceited about it and I know how much he doesn’t trust me. 

“I can’t do that, not anymore. I- I just can’t” He still shakes his head and his nose almost bumps into mine. They're merely inches apart at this point. 

I drag my hand over his neck, hesitantly placing my thumb against his skin and he shivers. I don't think he likes to be touched or even knows anymore what it feels like. I'm not even sure it's a good thing, but I do it anyway. 

"Yes you can. You just need to try to" I whisper under his face. If we both lean in, we kiss. It's not an option for us now. Or ever. 

Anakin heaves, his fingers tangling over my hair behind my ear. He pulls back a little, only enough for me to raise my head to look up at him. "I'm not fixable" 

His words sort of sting of how broken they sound. I glance at his creased brows and how they must hurt. 

"It's not fixing, there's still hope in there"

When he purses his lips, I feel his hand leave my hair and I immediately miss his touch. This time is light and soft, it’s not brutal. But I still keep mine on him and inch closer to his cheek, leaving a chaste peck on his skin. 

"Stop beating yourself up, Anakin. I'm not the only one who cares about you" My lips are curved into a shy smile, trying to cheer him up "Let's get this cleaned and wrapped up" 

I distance myself as soon as I notice him stiffening from my kiss. It's better to not cross any boundaries anymore than that, because I don't know how much he can handle this sort of closeness. 

He takes me  to his loft instead of the medical bay, which I didn’t get why but also didn’t argue. When I offered him for us to go to my place, his demeanor shifted and he just shook his head, meaning he still didn’t trust me. That was enough to know he still wasn’t willing to let people in, and while he accepted my help, I just wonder why he would do that in the first place. 

I don’t question myself too much about that, because I’m the one who’s taking care of the guy who once threatened me and made me fear for my life. Things took a turn quite quickly this month. 

This is the first time I step into his loft, a place quite big for just two people besides the two droids they have around. The room doesn’t have much decoration and the walls are kind of dull, but I won’t judge because he doesn’t care about that kind of stuff either way. He walks to his bedroom, leaving me in the living room, and I notice R2 is scanning the entire place for a threat repeatedly.

I hear Anakin shuffling in his bathroom looking for his first aid kit, and I start fiddling with my fingers, nervous that I’m once again alone with this unhinged man. Worse of it compared to the other times, is that I’m in his house now, no one would hear me outside if he just decided to kill me. 

What if he’s looking for tools to use against me instead? I know he has clues of what he should do when killing a person, but would he just do it or torture me instead? 

God, stop it. What if he can sense my nervousness and listens to my insane thoughts? If Cal can do that, he can do that too. 

Anakin walks back a minute later, holding a box full of med kits. I’m surprised to see there’s even a suturing kit, to which I have no idea how to use because I was never in that class.

He sits next to me and I look between him and the box, inhaling sharply as I lift myself up from the couch and look over the kit. I separate the gauze, saline solution, and cottons to clean up his wounds that aren’t bleeding anymore at this point. He extends his hand for me to grab it, and I hold it carefully while taking off the towel that started to stick on his skin. With the wet cotton, I start to clean the bloody cuts slowly rubbing it over his palm. 

Every few seconds I shift my gaze at him to see how he’s dealing with that, but he seems unfazed while looking directly at his hand and not at me. I pat the area dry using a gauze and reach for a roll bandage to cover his injuries. 

The silence is almost uncomfortable, if it wasn’t for the beeping sound of Artoo scanning the loft. I bite my inner cheek before I speak up. “I’m sorry about Cal”

Anakin clears his throat, the sound echoing through the place. I look down at him and watch as he glances up at me. “It’s not your fault he’s a jackass. He’s jealous of you”

I startled at his words and my brows shot up in surprise. What did he just say? My hands halt when I try to pick up on what he tells me. “Jealous of me?”

His lips leave a light chuckle. “He likes you, (Y/L/N). It’s pretty obvious the way he cares about you and gets defensive when it comes to you”

I’m still confused as to how Cal likes me given we’ve been friends for years and he never told me anything. Am I that stupid to never notice something like that? 

“I never really noticed it” I finish bandaging him, my hands leaving his palm. He takes a quick look at it before looking back at me. 

“We’re force sensitive, we feel each other’s emotions, as much as I dislike the idea and try to shut it down” 

“So you can literally tell what I feel or think?” My voice comes out sort of desperate, because I don’t think I can deal with the fact that he knows what goes through my head. 

The way he snorts makes me feel a little exposed. 

“Sometimes, but I had shut that down a while ago. It’s different with the Jedi, don’t worry” He gets up from his couch and gathers the stuff from the medkit and leaves the room for a second. 

I take a few steps towards the door, still confused about Cal’s feelings. “Still, that doesn’t mean he can act like an asshole to you. This is about me, not him”

Anakin steps closer to me in front of his door, before opening it up for me. “He’s protective over you, I was once in his place before. I’m not a victim either, you know”

I nod, remembering how void of emotions he was when he decided to come back to Coruscant after losing Padmé. After all those years, now I see how far he’s come. He shields himself from having feelings, but I know he still has emotions. And it would hurt him to show it off again. 

He opens the door for me with the force, it sliding off completely. That was the sexiest thing I’ve seen so far. We stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, my cheeks burning from the eye contact and my hands becoming sweaty. 

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. 

“I’ll see you around” I try to mask the raspiness of my tone, giving him a shy smile as I take a step out of his loft. 

Before I could leave, Anakin gripped my wrist softly with his metal hand and I looked at him. His brows were creased, but his face wasn’t contorted in anger or anything strange. He shifted his gaze at me for a few seconds, pursing his lips. 

“Thank you” He says in a husky voice, giving my skin a squeeze before pulling off. 

I’m too stunned to say a word so I just nod at him again and give his wrist a squeeze, mirroring his action. Anakin didn’t seem to notice he just let out a sided, but subtle smile seconds before I finally turned around and left him standing at his door.

@adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @cl0esblogg @littlecoffeenerd @readingthingsonhere @js-favnanadoongi @twilightzone24

[daisynik7]

Hello, hello!

I wanted to drop a request for your y2k event. I was thinking "Fallin'" by Alicia Keys for Kishibe - fluff + angst.

Thank you and again, congrats on 2k followers! you deserve them!

Fallin'

I keep on fallin’ in and out of love with you. Sometimes I love you, sometimes you make me blue.

Word Count: ~1.2k

cw: angst, fluff, canon universe, established relationship, explicit language

Summary: Kishibe never intended to fall for you. As the world’s strongest devil hunter and being practically insane, he never meant to subject anyone else to this chaotic lifestyle of his. Still, somewhere along the way, he met you, and ever since, you want to stay by his side. And that scares Kishibe more than any devil could. 

Author’s Notes: Thank you @itsfairly for the request and for always supporting me! I have so much love for you, I hope you know that! This is a great song for the y2k karaoke party and it’s perfect for Kishibe. I always enjoy writing for him; I think he’s an especially interesting character, and obviously, he’s hot, lol. I hope you like this! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Kishibe isn’t keen on routines. Ever since he became a part of Public Safety at the ripe age of twenty, he’s lived a fast and unpredictable lifestyle. Some might call it spontaneous. Unstable. Even dangerous. He liked being kept on his toes; it made him alert, made him vigilant. He has to be when he’s the strongest Devil Hunter in the world. If he’s not prepared for any kind of deviation that comes his way, then he’s screwed. 

Unfortunately, he already is. He’s finally met his match. And it’s neither a devil nor a fiend. Not even a fellow Devil Hunter. It’s you.

Oh-so-precious you, who appeared in his life no more than a year ago. An innocent bystander he saved in Shibuya when you recklessly tried to defend yourself and a child against a Spider Devil, despite your severe arachnophobia. If you were alone, you would have been found cowering in fear, probably worst, a corpse mangled into pieces. But you overcame your phobia for a split-second when you decided to guard this kid, who couldn’t have been much older than five, parents nowhere to be seen, alone just like you. You didn’t stand a chance. After all, you’re only human, untrained for combat, a simple office worker trying to navigate your normal life. How could you fight this thing? Thankfully, Kishibe swoops in just in time, displaying his physical prowess so seamlessly. And of course, after having your lives saved, how can you not be smitten? 

It’s only a few months later when you realize how equally smitten he is with you. By chance, you reunite at a bar, the first time since the incident in Shibuya. He recognizes you instantly, the image of you standing defiantly with a metal rod in hand, facing a devil ten times your size. He’s seen idiots like you before, thinking they could take these demons on themselves. They’re never quite as pretty and impressionable as you, though. 

A couple cocktails in, inhibitions are let loose. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. Both you and he can hold liquor well, so you pretend to be tipsy when really, you’re completely sober, making bad decisions you can blame on the alcohol. He takes you to his apartment nearby and you spend the night together, and just as you fantasized, he’s equally skilled in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Eventually, you fall asleep with his arms around you, his lips grazing the nape of your neck, his breathing steady against your skin. The next morning, he’s gone, without so much as a kiss on the cheek or a note left on your nightstand, not even a text to explain his absence. If you didn’t have the scent of him embedded in your sheets, you would have thought it all to be a dream.  

It continues like this for the next several months. Chance encounters at the same bar begin to feel more than just coincidental, intentional even. You both sense it, neither of you admitting to it, too afraid to acknowledge that it’s more than just sex at this point. And while all that is good and great, the real kicker here is that you genuinely enjoy each other’s companies. Conversation flows effortlessly between you. His humor, while being somewhat morbid due to his career, jives well with yours. And most important of all, you feel safe around him. He’ll protect you no matter what. 

The irony of it all is that wanting to protect you is what makes him sneak out before you wake up in the morning. To him, it’s a way to prevent whatever this is from going any further. Despite yearning for it so much, he doesn’t want to wreck your life by bringing you into his. Who could ever love someone as fucked up as he is? An alcoholic, womanizing, money-hungry flawed being with no future except one of fighting devils. He’s already decided years ago that he’ll be alone for the rest of his life. And now, you just had to come along and ruin his plans. 

He'll never say it out loud, but he’s scared. The deeper he falls, the harder it will be to climb his way back up should anything go wrong. He already feels his heart being tugged closer and closer to yours every night you spend together. The possibilities of a bright future seem more and more plausible with you around. He can’t let himself succumb to this idea of normality; it’s uncharted territory for him, and he doesn’t quite know how to navigate it.

It's been a year since he laid eyes on you. Months that you’ve been together in some weird situationship that neither of you bother to label. Tonight, after you make love in his bedroom, you snuggle with each other, fingers laced together, his body surrounding yours in the familiar warmth you’ve grown to cherish. Something comes over you in this moment. Maybe it’s impatience from not knowing where this is going. Maybe it’s longing for validation that he won’t just leave you like he does every night. Maybe it’s because you’re in love with him and want to give him a reason to finally stay. You peer up at him, delicately tracing the scar running parallel to his jaw, heart beating faster as you confess. “I love you, Kishibe.”

His eyes widen only slightly; he was always good at keeping a poker face. He swallows hard, taking your hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently. “Go to sleep.” 

You glare at him. “Is that really all you have to say?”

He sighs, releasing your hand, pinching the skin between his brows. “What do you want me to say? That I love you too?”

You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just asking you to be honest with me. I want to know if whatever this is,” you point between the two of you, “has a future.”

“You know that my line of work is dangerous. You know that the future is uncertain.”

“And yet, I’m still here, and so are you. So clearly, we want to be together, no matter how grim this future you speak of is.” 

It takes him a minute to respond, contemplating your very valid argument. He faces away from you, avoiding your gaze. “Then maybe we should finally call this quits. You’re better off without me anyways.”

You cup his cheek, turning his head towards yours. “I know you don’t mean that. I’ve never felt safer with anyone else. You protect me, and I want to protect you too. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” You nuzzle your nose to his, foreheads pressed together. He closes his eyes, relishing this intimacy, more afraid to lose it forever than surrender to it. Although he’s still scared, he realizes that with you by his side, he no longer has to traverse life on his own. 

~~~

The next morning, you wake up, fully expecting the typical cold, empty space beside you. To your surprise, you’re still cradled in Kishibe’s arms, his warm body embracing yours. It takes him a few more weeks for him to say it back, but it’s in this moment that you know he loves you too.  

[an-gothamite-aka-zannalial]

I always want to see Damian get what he totally deserve to get. NORMAL LIVE, not some Hero and assassin shit

Like he got to so much problem that his family can't take it anymore, so they send him to Boarding school in another country. Just make sure he wont get into some gofy ass scenario without any guard

He knew when all his sibling talk in the room that this is his last change to not mess everything and get their full trust, and damian actually already tired of all this shit

Form his only bestfriend become full adult, his girlfriend break up and leave him, ra's comeback try to kidnap him, and there more shit that happen to him recently

So in his new school he just act normal, like Literally he became a avarage student. No one know he a Wayne cause he never tell anyone and his Appearance in media is Very rare, make being normal much Easier

He just be like his father and sibling when they are in public, playboy/girl, rich kids shit, charismatic, and so on

He even slowly Bond with everyone with no problem, make him worse but better at the same time.

He start to show up in night prom or party everytime there a Invitation, being The center of everyone's attention, a bright sun in everything he join and enter

Even get drunk on some party Unintentionally because he got carried away by the atmosphere, until that just become his new habit when join something that has alcohol in it

He also uses drugs and smokes because he follows his friends, without realizing that what he is doing is wrong in the eyes of his family because he almost forgets he has one.

He often plays truant and gets involved in school problems but no one really wants to scold him, because he is a perfect kid and very rich, he doesn't even notice he's a bit off the mark.

Flirt everyone is his right to do anywhere, but there is one girl who he thinks is different from the others, making him return to the stalker's path for some time. Before realizing they like each other

In the end they became the school's best known couple, because no one with two healthy eyes could see how much they loved each other.

He only goes home on Christmas Day and on graduation day, because he is too comfortable and used to his surroundings now. Alfred almost didn't even manage to bring him home

When he returned home he was given the choice to decide his next path, to become a hero again or to continue what he had built over the last few years. And he chose his new life over the old suck life he had

Goes to the same college as his girlfriend and doesn't care about superheroes shit, Get a normal and enjoyable life without being bothered by mental health problems every night or severe insomnia every day

After graduating from college he decided to propose to his girlfriend and get married, having his own family. Forgetting the person he used to like is far behind Or the unfunctional family before because now he is part of a different family

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Discussion Conference

Inspired by the comment @wei-wuxians-guard left on my poll asking what to write! <3

It was understandable that Zewu-Jun needed additional support fitting back into his sect leader position after such a lengthy seclusion - but what vexed a lot of people was why he had to bring so many people with him at the Discussion Conference that year.

Of course, there was Hanguang-Jun, the Lan head disciples, namely Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui, and, unfortunately, Hanguang-Jun's spouse, the Yiling Patriarch. But they also brought the Yiling Patriarch's donkey, Little Apple, as well as the Ghost General. Nobody could say anything because the Ghost General as well as the Yiling Patriarch did save their sorry lives during the Second Siege... but the donkey? It even wore a Lan headband! And the Yiling Patriarch insisted the donkey should be fed and housed alongside the other sects' stallions!

The Nie Chief Cultivator didn't seem to mind any of this, though. And if Sect Leader Jiang drank three times the expected liquor consumption in the first two hours of the conference, nobody mentioned it.

However, as all Discussion Conferences did, this one became boring quite quickly. Nobody was really saying anything of substance, and other than Sect Leader Yao and Sect Leader Ouyang always having something to complain about, everyone seemed more interested in drinking and whispering amongst themselves than resolving anything.

In fact, it appeared that even the Chief Cultivator fell asleep a few times.

"This is so boring!" Lan Jingyi quietly whined, throwing back his tea as if it was alcohol. "How does young mistress Jin seem so interested?"

"He's not." Wei Ying spoke, "Look at sect leader Jiang. They're wearing the same expression, right?"

"Right... but what's that got to do with anything?"

"Neither are paying any attention to anything. Back when we were studying at the Cloud Recesses, we each had our own ways to cope with teacher Lan's endless lectures. I'd bother Hanguang-Jun, while Jiang Cheng would pretend to be paying attention while he learned to sleep with his eyes open!"

"What?! They're asleep?"

"Well, not fully asleep, but not awake either. Don't ask them anything, though. They'll either not respond at all, or say something silly and startle themselves awake."

"Teach me how to do that too!" Lan Jingyi begged, pulling on Wei Ying's sleeve. "I'm so tired of old teacher Lan's-"

A side eye from Hanguang-Jun had Lan Jingyi straighten his posture immediately. "Um... I apologize..."

"Lectures are important, Jingyi." Sizhui added, serious, firm and Lan-like, "We must learn from our seniors."

Lan Jingyi rolled his eyes. "As if you don't scream into your pillow after a 3 hour lecture on the importance of rules!"

Lan Sizhui looked away and turned red immediately. Wei Ying couldn't help a laugh.

"You kids have nothing to be so embarrassed about. Teacher Lan's lectures are only enjoyable for his nephews."

"For Wangji only." Zewu-Jun piped up, a playful little smile on his lips. Wei Ying had to hide a laugh in his sleeve, while Lan Zhan sent his brother a pointed look. Lan Xichen appeared entirely unaffected, sipping his tea.

"Shufu has very effective teaching methods." Lan Zhan defended, but Xichen's eyes imperceptibly moved towards Wei Ying in retaliation. Hanguang-Jun sighed. "Nobody is infallible."

"It's good his teaching didn't work on me!" Wei Ying interfered, fake-offended. "Can you imagine me as a fuddy-duddy too? Ah- no offense, Zewu-Jun..."

Lan Xichen chuckled, a rare sound in the past several years - and it seemed to have softened something in Lan Zhan's gaze to hear it.

"It is fine, Wei-gongzi. And anyway, it is the truth. Men of our sect are very uptight." His eyes slid towards Lan Jingyi, who had been trying to secretly flag a servant for wine. "Most of them, at least."

Lan Sizhui poked his friend's side and he straightened up again upon noticing Zewu-Jun looking at him.

"I think we're going to get a break soon." Wei Ying said, eyes following the Nie head disciple that had gone to whisper something to a drowsy Nie Huaisang. "It's almost dinnertime, and we've had enough of politics for a day. I wonder what they'll serve."

"As long as it's edible, I don't care!" Jingyi whined, holding his stomach. "I'd eat a horse right now!"

"Don't let Little Apple hear you, or she'll kick you again!"

[mossyflowers]

Tossing this art here so I can ramble abt my Cipher, thoughts below the cut because i've come up with a lot of stuff for him :]

Early life-

His real name is Ciro Palomo, which mean lord and pigeon respectively. However, the name Ciro also sounds a lot like cero, which is the Spanish word for zero

He was born around that gulf area in Sapin that bordered both Osea and Belka before the borders were moved

His parents were allegedly perfectly happy, well off, and could have taken care of him, but decided to leave him at a small orphanage instead. Essentially leaving him with nothing, including no memories of them.

Due to a wide variety of reasons, he didn't learn to speak until he was five, and didn't bother speaking much after that anyways due to no one wanting to listen

A lot of his time was spent wandering OUTSIDE of the orphanage, since he couldn't stand being stuck inside with all the other kids. He'd spend most of it staring at where the ocean met the sky and trying to imagine himself somewhere inbetween it

He also spent a lot of time interacting with some of the adults in his town, with some older women who'd moved to the town to escape the recession in Belka especially taking a liking to him. Telling him a lot of superstitions and other little things from their home, including a few myths about fairies

There was a baker who'd sneak him food that was taken off the shelves and a few days away from going bad, just so he could have some treats every now and then

When he was 17, a group of mercenaries came to town that he ran into while he was out. Eventually convincing them to take him with them before they left town. This was also the group that taught him how to fly.

The squad was called Extraño, which (I hope) translates to Stranger in Spanish

His first and original callsign was zero, as the group preferred to use numbers and he was essentially their first member with "zero" experience.

Cipher did not know how to read until one of his wingmen eventually taught him how to once they realized this.

It was his flight lead who drilled it into his skull to not shoot down neutral targets, insisting on pride above their paychecks.

They flew together for five years, before they took a contract with Ustio some time in September by the name of Operation Thresh. Where they were sent into the Round Table and attacked unexpectedly by another squad.

All of them died except for Cipher, who managed to survive shooting down seven enemy pilots alone, as well as a crash due to a sudden engine failure from sustained damage.

He managed to walk away with only a few severe burns and some damage to his nose. He wasn't happy about the fact he got to walk away.

The Belkan War-

After Extraño squad's deaths, Cipher became increasingly detached and began taking more dangerous missions while taking more risks in the air due to a mix of resentment and survivor's guilt

Cipher also kept a guitar from One, a pocket knife from Two, a rubik's cube from Three, and a notebook full of sketches from Four.

He originally signed on to work with Ustio under the impression he would NOT last long during the war.

Was both very hesitant about Pixy and confused by his behavior. He was pretty confident that Pixy would live longer than him, but still didn't want to get too close in case anything did happen.

The first mission at the Round Table and Pixy saying they'd survive was essentially a massive slap to the face that resulted in Cipher starting to open up to others again.

Alcohol was originally seen as a necessary evil to him for getting new contracts at dingy bars. He started enjoying it after Pixy kept dragging him to the bar on base, though.

He and Pixy would usually end up cuddling in the same bed if one of them got drunk enough, starting after the liberation of Directus.

Liberating Directus also got him to cry a little in his jet, and was one of the proudest and best moments of his life.

During practice and drills, he would purposefully try the craziest maneuvers he could just to see if Pixy could keep up.

Pixy also got him to start reading more.

Being called a demon was something he actually took pride in, until Hoffnung.

After Hoffnung, he stopped taking pride in a lot of things.

Pixy's betrayal hurt him a lot more than he let on, and he spent a lot of time wondering if there was anything he could have done differently before it happened.

PJ was like a little brother to him <:)

Despite everything, he thought the duel over Avalon dam was extremely romantic and attractive

Cipher also decided to disappear on the same night/morning after all the stuff with AWWNB and V2 happened for a lot of reasons. Mainly not wanting to be seen as a hero or remembered for what he did, though, there was also a lot of guilt over what happened to both PJ AND Pixy

Post war-

As soon as he could, he moved to what was left of Belka and into the city closest to Avalon Dam

Working with different groups of volunteer and rebuilding efforts helped him get into construction.

He still does contract work, but instead of being a mercenary pilot, it's mostly either construction or music performances.

Cipher also does a lot of street performances with his guitar, with him having a specific spot in the park near Avalon that he goes to perform at fairly often.

At some point, he gets a degree in music theory from a local college.

He ends up performing the music for his own documentary ten years later, too.

After the documentary, he tracks down Pixy again. The two of them work out most of their stuff eventually and end up getting together because they deserve it I think <:)

Misc stuff-

Cipher doesn't know when he was born, but I like to think it was 6/6 just so it'd be an extra punch to the gut.

He's Sapinish and was born and raised there, but doesn't have a very strong accent.

Has a chronic case of resting bitch face, unsurprisingly.

He also struggles a lot with emotions, specifically internalizing them after he realized getting mad at people who killed people you cared about and then killing them doesn't actually fix the fact the people you cared about are dead. It's easier to make him happy than it is to get him mad.

Thinks a little too much and tried to use flying as a way to cope since it cleared his head a lot

After his squad died, he also became physically incapable of speaking while flying as a trauma response. This also applies any time he's in the air, or somewhere that reminds him too much of flying or the sky.

He knows how to swim and is actually very good at it

Ended up learning how to walk silently as a kid to sneak out and never unlearned it

Somehow managed to completely train out his fear of heights and falling as a child on accident.

His first flight lead was the one who taught him how to play the guitar

Cipher was also a bit of a cunt before he went through his whole character arc during the war. He'd purposefully try to end missions as soon as possible and screw over other mercenaries he was flying with if he thought they'd try and shoot something they shouldn't

He's got a huge soft spot for kids and is actually surprisingly good with them

Also has a soft spot for pigeons, even if he's not great when it comes to getting them to not immediately fly away from him

Very sentimental, he collects things that other people give him and goes out of his way to take care of mementos from all of his dead wingmen.

Refused to die unless something killed him (nothing did, so he just left in the end)

He feels really bad about what happened to Belka after everything

[adolfusraptor1985]

Realization

Learned something about myself recently that I think has opened my eyes to an opportunity to heal from issues I've been having over the past few years of my life.

For some background information, I've been writing stories since the fifth grade. Since then, I've generally had the same cast of characters that I write about and imagine. Many years and two scrapped writing projects later, the majority of those characters have disappeared or have faded into the background as side characters.

Now I've started a new book. One that I'm focusing more energy on than all my previous attempts combined. I've spent months just fleshing out my characters and their backgrounds, and now I've been focusing on the main plotline. I don't need to rant about that though, because the book isn't exactly the reason for writing this.

I have four characters, the mains of this new book, and they are characters who have been around since I first wanted to pursue writing years and years ago. They've grown and changed since I first created them, but this past year their backstories and personalities have been fully developed.

I've been imagining, writing, and fantasizing about these characters for years, and just now after beginning this book, have I realized that each one of these main four represent a deep struggle or insecurity that I have. All this time and I've been writing about myself, and these characters are only personifications of the things I hate most about me.

This story that I'm writing is called Rock Dog Rehab. It's a story about a world of anthropomorphic canines and takes place in New York city. To keep it short, these four main characters come together and start a band while also helping one another heal from their issues. As it turns out, each of these "issues" is an exaggerated form of something I myself struggle with, and how these characters solve those issues, might just be the key to getting better myself.

In case you're interested, let me give you a quick rundown on each of those characters.

First off is Midnight. She's a straight A student with incredibly supportive parents, just like myself. Her problem is that she is constantly overwhelmed, stressed, and anxious around her schoolwork. Your typical burnt-out gifted kid, she tries so hard to succeed, but in the end all she wants is to be done with school and just move on with her carrier. Too bad she has no plan for that yet. Midnight's experience perfectly reflects the increasing stress I have regarding school.

Next is Lois. She fell into depression and became an alcoholic after losing her girlfriend. She struggles to find joy in anything and shuts herself out from people. She also keeps all of her emotions tightly locked within her, not ready to face her grief surrounding her girlfriend. Lois represents my inability to grieve and process negative emotions correctly.

Ash is seen by everyone as your typical "big bad wolf". People have all sorts of negative assumptions about them. Unfortunately, Ash being a junkie doesn't help the stereotypes people have about grey wolves. Because of how people see them, Ash reacts harshly and aggressively to people they aren't close with, which only feeds into people's views. Underneath however, they're a caring person. This is just like how people assume I'm "mean" or "antisocial" because I act threatening.

Finally, is Magdalina. It's clear that on the surface, she represents my struggles with self-harm, but there's more to it than that. Underneath, Mag deals with a multitude of mental disorders that leave people treating her very different than others. At school, she's completely outcast. At home, she's treated like a little pup (kid). Mag could care less about getting better. All she wants is to be seen and treated as a normal person, just like I do. Even if getting better should be more important to us...

Once again, I never intended to write my own issues into these characters, but somehow, they became so important to me that I subconsciously did. Now, I feel like as I continue writing this book as if this realization never happened, I will subconsciously write the ways in which I'm going to get better. And who knows, maybe I won't be able to write these characters happy ending until I write my own. But none the less, I feel like this book is going to be a big help in my journey.

[tala-bez-i]

At first sight Chapter Eight

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3461

(Author's note: This is the third chapter this week… but due to the long weekend, I decided to write as many chapters as I can to be ready for publication during the new week. The next chapter will appear on Wednesday. Thank you for the likes and reblogs so far. They mean a lot to me 😚 )

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You opened the door to Kakucho's office more violently than you intended and rushed inside, holding the folder you were supposed to bring in your hand. “Sorry... I met Sanzu on the way....” 

“It's okay, Y/n. I'm glad you brought Fuku with you. It was the right decision.” Kakucho said calmly and pointed to a pot of fresh tea that must have been brought by one of the girls in the hideout. “A cup of tea?” 

“Yes, please.” Before you closed the door, you made sure no one was in the hall. You turned to the surprised men and cleared your throat. “Yata will have to stay.” 

“But I can't. Akira…” 

“Akira knows I took you somewhere.” You interrupted the young man, walked over to the desk and handed the folder over to its original owner. 

“Oh shit… How does the boss know?” His face paled and his eyes widened. 

“Sanzu told me.” 

“And how did Sanzu know?” Kakucho became interested, putting aside the report he had just picked up. 

“Akira recognized me and called Sanzu to complain to him that I took one of his men because…” You shot Miyata a quick glance. “Not a word to anyone, do you understand?” 

“I-I understand, but... What is it?” The boy looked confused, and his eyes moved from you to Kakucho and back again. 

“Akira thinks I took you to have fun with you.” You said, sitting down on the empty chair. 

"To have fun with me? But how do you, boss, could have fun with me?” 

Kakucho became slightly confused at your words before turning his head, a small smile appearing on his face. You watched him, lips pursed. You simply couldn't believe how a person who was around whores every day and worked directly for a pimp could not know what kind of fun he was talking about. After all, he asked if you came there because you wanted a prostitute. 

You looked at him. “Are you serious now, Yata?” 

The boy blinked several times and suddenly his face turned red. “The boss doesn't seem to mean…” His voice wasn't clear, but he seemed to be starting to realize what his employer had accused you of. “Boss! But, oh no!” 

“Akira suggested it, not me. Sorry, kid, but it looks like your boss thinks you like to fuck for money..." You shrugged and Kakucho let out a laugh that he couldn't hold back anymore. “I don't care, because it doesn't make much difference to me whether my sexual partner has a cunt or a dick... But you, Yata, I think you're already burned.” 

“Boss, you can't do that! Boss Kakucho, please say something in my defense!” The young man's voice was shaking with emotion, and the first tears appeared in his eyes. “I'm not like that!” 

Kakucho shook his head and took a few deep breaths to calm down. His cheeks were slightly flushed, which showed that despite the ridicule of the situation and so many years of using the services of prostitutes, the topic of sex is an area that he considers something serious. 

“Don't worry, Yata.” He said, still amused. “Y/n won't get your ass.” 

“Boss promises? Boss L/n?” The boy looked at you worried. 

“You're pretty, Miyata, but not my type.” You assured him and reached for the cup of tea prepared for you. "Don't worry. I will pay triple for your service, just like Sanzu told Akira...” You looked at Kakucho with a serious face. “Which, on the one hand, will give us an alibi…” You moved your gaze to the hot drink that smelled tempting. “But then Akira will expect the same from you as from the girls…” 

“I will absolutely give him back to Akira.” Number three spoke. “I'll arrange it so that Akira gets more money for Miyata, but we will put the boy to work for Shion.” 

“Huh? Um, Boss Kakucho? Boss L/n?” The boy looked even more confused. 

You nodded, ignoring Fuku squirming in his chair. “It's a thought, but why Madarame?” 

“He wants a few girls in the club, so he's looking for someone to watch over them.” He glanced at the black-haired boy. “Not in the form of a bodyguard, of course. Yata has almost no muscles, but as a companion. Akira’s bitches praise him.” 

“Do you want to make him a mascot?” You asked, taking a small sip of your tea. It was delicious as usual. 

“Yata is already a mascot.” Kakucho looked at the flustered one. "What do you think? You tell us everything you know and we will get you a quiet job with Madarame.” 

“Boss Kakucho, Boss L/n! This is the most wonderful thing that happened to me! Yes! Everything except working for Akira..." The young man said quickly, his eyes sparkling with joy. 

“So, you will commit treason to improve your living conditions?” You laughed softly and Yata held his breath. 

“Don't scare him, Y/n. This is not betrayal. This is the right decision, Miyata.” Kakucho calmed him down and returned to the reports he had on his desk. “Let's start over, shall we? At lunchtime, Mochi will provide us with his folder and we can all compare our observations together. From what I know, he has tracked down two other pimps who are in cahoots with Kudora.” 

You shrugged and used small tongs to hand Yata the cookie. “Welcome aboard, kid.” 

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You listened to what the black-haired youth had to say and felt an increasing dislike for Hachirou Kuroda. It seemed that Kitty was the only one who died because of the knowledge she had about her pimp's shady dealings. The rest of the girls - you still didn't know how many there really were - died because their clients indulged in way too much and it resulted in the poor women being no longer good for anything. 

You understood that everyone had different sexual preferences, but burning and cutting the skin in various places on the body was too much. It was no longer sex, but the most ordinary torture in the world, which Akira should never have allowed. 

Yata confessed that the pimp saw each of the girls who returned to him in a sorry state and instead of immediately reporting the problem with the customers, he preferred to take larger sums of money from them and kill the girls or simply ordered his men to do it. 

The boy again admitted to disposing of the bodies of the three dead girls. He described their injuries because Akira was taking clothes and jewelry that belonged to prostitutes. He ordered them to be taken to the forests and before they were covered with earth, they had to be poured with various flammable substances and set on fire. The same substances could never have been used, otherwise if the police discovered the remains, they could easily link them. 

Usually, you weren't moved by such confessions, because you yourself had desecrated corpses many times, but... One description was too extreme for you. Even Mochi had to reach for the whiskey, and you've never seen such murderous intent in Kakucho's eyes. 

Yes, none of you were saints. You have done many bad things, even very bad things. Hanma once took a debtor's daughter and gave her to a brothel so that she could work off her father's debt but had good living conditions. You also knew about families murdered on order, including children, but... Forcing a pregnant girl into prostitution because you found a client who wished so... And then allowing a situation in which the girl was hanging by her hands from the ceiling for several days, only to end up in a dug hole in the forest... 

You wanted to skin Akira and rub salt into his wounds. You were sure Sanzu would happily join in. 

“Son of a bitch… Just a son of a bitch.” Mochi growled after your second glass of liquor, and you wished you had drunk the alcohol yourself. “I thought the two I found were fuckers, but no. L/n must have found a better one.” 

“Kakucho came across him.” You corrected your friend, but he waved it off. “Do we need evidence or will the testimony of Yata and the whores be enough?” 

“Who is Akira's clientele?” Kakucho asked, frowning. 

“Various guys and probably even two women... But all in all, they all had a lot of money.” The young man replied and Kakucho cursed fiercely. 

“So it's a serious matter. We cannot afford to lose such funding sources.” 

"So? What we do?" You asked quietly, looking towards the window where dark, rainy clouds were gathering. “Do we investigate the remaining pimps more thoroughly or report what we already have to Kisaki and Hanma?” 

“I want Mikey to know everything first.” Kakucho said after a while. “He may not be interested in Sato, but I don't think he'd ignore such shenanigans.” 

“Let's check the ones I mentioned and then we'll turn over the combined files to Mikey.” Mochi lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, looking around for an ashtray. “I don't give a damn whether he's interested in these whores or not. He can't let these bastards do this. If the police find out about it, everyone will pay for it. The whole business will go to hell.” 

“Mochi is right.” You spread your hands and crossed your legs. “Our beloved leader must express his opinion on this matter.” 

“Okay, we'll do that. I'll have to mention this to Sanzu too. Still, he's number two." Kakucho nodded and started organizing his reports. “That everything had to get so fucked up. Kuroda was one of the most trusted pimps.” 

You looked out of the corner of your eye at Yata, who was sitting in silence, eating cookies that were lying on a tray with cold, forgotten by everyone tea in a pot. 

“Eat normally.” You said quietly and the boy looked down at his pants, which were covered in cookie crumbs. 

“Sorry, boss…” He said and started collecting crumbs on a plate. 

Madarame will wipe the floor with him. - You thought and your mood improved slightly. 

“Yata, do you know who is the best person to talk to from Nagasawa and Nagano?” Mochi suddenly asked, turning towards the boy. “They have someone like you?” 

“Huh? Someone like me?” He thought for a moment and involuntarily dropped the crumbs he had managed to pick up from his pants onto the carpet. "Let me think... I know Nagasawa had a girlfriend whom he didn't allow to have sex with his clients... But he didn't hide his business from her... And Nagano... Nagano..." He scratched his head and shrugged... “Sorry, Boss Mochi, but Nagano has a man everyone calls Yuu, but I have no idea who he is. I've never seen the guy in person." 

“Okay, what about this girl?” 

Yata smiled brightly, his tone strangely soft. “Junko Yoshioka.” 

You raised one eyebrow and started looking at the boy. “You, kid. Are you sure he didn't let her shag his clients?” 

“I wasn't a customer.” He replied to you with a wide smile and froze, his expression immediately dropping and his face turning red. “Sorry, boss…” 

“I have no further questions, thank you.” You clicked your tongue, reaching for the last cookie on the plate and popping the whole one into your mouth, biting it thoughtfully. 

There was silence in the room for a moment, everyone was busy thinking about what steps to take in this matter. Thanks to Kakucho and Mochi... and Yata, you almost solved the whole case of the prostitute murders. But you had a strange feeling that... 

“I'll take care of Yoshioka and let L/n find this Yuu guy.” Mochi said and Kakucho nodded, completely agreeing with him. 

That's right, you knew it would be like this. Find a guy that neither of you have seen in person and don't know the real personal details. 

“Thank you, Mochi.” You muttered softly, looking away from the man. 

“Something wrong?” The other asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye. 

"No no. Of course not." You denied, then an idea popped into your head and you looked at him. “Maybe the rest know something more about this Yuu?” 

“Like who?” 

“Haitanis? Ran likes to use the services of girls and does it more often than Rindou.” You suggested, playing with your tie. “Maybe even Sanzu heard something…” 

“Aren't you the one who gets him whores?” Mochi asked as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. 

You pursed your lips, staring at Kakucho's desk. “Yes, I usually get him girls. But Sanzu is a big boy, and I don't live with him, so when he feels like it, he calls for services himself.” 

“I'm just asking.” Mochi shrugged. “You can try, but I don't know what time they will return from their trip. That damn Sato is pretty bummed out somewhere.” 

“Maybe Takeomi will know something. He used to sleep with girls from Nagano.” He mentioned Kakucho and looked at the folder you had brought earlier. “I'll give it back to you so that if anything happens, Kisaki won't bother you.” 

You nodded, took the paper folder from him and stood up from the chair. “I think we can call it a day. Each of us has a task, so... Let's do what needs to be done and get this over with." 

"Right." Mochi drained his glass and after saying goodbye to all of you, he left the room. 

“Come on, Miyata.” Kakucho said as he stood up from behind his desk. “I will take you to your new room and give the girls some instructions regarding your hospitality.” 

The young man quickly got up from his chair and you both followed Kakucho into the corridor. “Good luck, Y/n.” He smiled slightly at you and walked away down the hall towards the guest rooms. 

“See you later, Boss L/n!” Yata waved at you and quickly followed the retreating man. 

“Fuck…” You cursed as you headed back to your bedroom. “How will I find this guy?” 

You turned the key in your door, went inside and walked to the desk, onto which you lightly threw the folder with the completed reports. You took off your jacket, untied your tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt. 

You looked at your watch and it took you a moment to realize that you hadn't heard from Sanzu for eight hours. Nothing special, but you only had such a long break in contact when each of you was sleeping in your own beds... Still, you didn't feel anxious. He wasn't completely alone after all, and you were able to get some rest. 

You lit a cigarette and walked to the window. You looked up at the sky and were relieved to see that the clouds had not thickened. Maybe it won't rain after all. 

You liked the rain, but you didn't like hearing the complaints of a soaked Sanzu. You laughed quietly, after all, there was no certainty that you would see each other again today. Maybe neither of you will have the time or even the strength for it... 

You took a long drag on your cigarette and flicked the ash into the ashtray. You had at least four people you could try asking about that damn Yuu, and you hoped that one of them knew something about this guy. At least one piece of information... Maybe it will be easier to find him. 

Sure, you could always stalk Nagano, but you wouldn't know which of his assholes was Yuu. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement on the garden path and looked in that direction, seeing a petite woman accompanied by a tall man with dark hair slicked back. 

“Look at this.” You smiled to yourself as you watched Rosie and Takeomi. From a distance, you could see that they were having a calm conversation and clearly enjoying each other's company. Then the thought popped into your head that maybe Rosie knew Yuu or one of the girls who were currently in the hideout. Rosie was like a brothel mom to them here. "It is worth a try." 

You stubbed out your cigarette and barely made it back inside when someone knocked on your door. You stopped dead in the middle of your bedroom. "Who's there?" 

“It's me, Miki... Yata-chan would like to talk to you again.” One of the prostitutes answered you and you went to the door to open it. 

Yata-chan? 

You looked surprised at the slim girl who was pulling the hand of Miyata, who was hiding behind the door frame. “He's a bit shy, isn't he?” 

"A bit." You looked at the boy who kept looking over his shoulder down the hall. “Come in. Thanks, Miki. Come back for him in half an hour.” 

The girl smiled even wider at you and, pushing the boy into your bedroom, she began to walk away almost with a dance step - just like usual. 

You closed the door and looked at Yata, frowning. "What's up?" 

"I'm sorry, boss, when we were walking here, I thought I saw Hanma... I don't want to run into him..." The black-haired man said quietly and rubbed his arm nervously. 

"I see. What else did you want to talk about?” 

“In Boss Kakucho's office, Boss Mochi mentioned Sato's name…” He swallowed and squeezed his forearm. “I shouldn't eavesdrop... But... Maybe it's about Mr. Sato from Hot Cherry?” 

You winced at the mention of the old nightclub name, but confirmed. “How do you know about him? Have you been to this club?” 

“I was there once with Akira... He sold one of the girls to him.” He shrugged and then added more quietly. “I don't like that bitch... Mina would sell her own mother if she had the chance.” 

You raised an eyebrow at the mention of the girl and decided not to tell the boy what happened to her. So, Sato and Akira were... or still are, in business together. You will need to pass this information on to Haitanis and Sanzu. 

“I have some information for you, Yata.” The boy looked at you interested. “You will be at this club more often. It is already ours and has been handed over to Madarame, with whom you will work.” 

"Seriously?! Oh, Boss L/n!” Miyata's hands shot towards you, but he pulled them back at the last moment. "It's wonderful! The club was nice, but the name and owner sucked.” 

You walked over to the desk and reached for a pack of cigarettes. You still had a few minutes before Miki would come back for the boy. "You smoke?" 

“No, boss. Smoking harms your health." 

“Fucking prostitutes doesn't guarantee health either.” 

“I'm using protection…” The man muttered, blushing slightly. 

You looked at him and shook your head, sighing slightly. “Where did you come from, Miyata, huh?” 

The other shrugged, turning even redder. “I know I'm a shitty gangster... But I grew up in a poor neighborhood and I don't know anything else.” 

“Can you fight?” 

"I can." Yata smiled and lifted his shirt slightly, showing you his slightly muscled stomach, with two long scars on it. “I even got stabbed twice.” 

You nodded in approval, thinking that maybe Fuku Miyata wasn't so bad after all. Everyone cries sometimes, but... He wasn't crying for no reason, he was just afraid for his life, and you didn't necessarily assure him that he was in no danger. 

He lowered his shirt and looked slightly confused again. Suddenly he bowed deeply and said in a serious tone. “Thank you, Boss L/n. For taking me away from Akira and giving me a second chance.” 

You looked at him slightly surprised and shook your head, a soft smile appearing on your lips. “The decision wasn't just mine. You don't seem bad, and you made the right decision. You deserve another chance.” 

There was a soft knock on the door and the boy straightened up. “I guess that's my guard.” He joked and Miki opened the door. A smile appeared on her lips again. 

"You can go." You patted the young man on the shoulder and the girl grabbed his wrist, pulling him into the hallway. 

“Come, come, Yata-chan. Let Mr. L/n work.” She laughed and you were left alone. 

You closed the door behind them and returned to your small desk, where you sat down. You leaned back in your chair and looked at the ceiling. I wonder if Sanzu knows about Sato and Akira's connection. 

You heard single, gentle knocks on the glass and looked out the window. It looked like Sanzu was going to get a little wet after all. 

<PREVIOUS/NEXT>

[astorythatwritesitself]

Survivor's Guilt

Read on AO3!

Title: Survivor's Guilt Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: T Length: 2,634 Content notes: Xenophobic (as applied to non-human ME species) rhetoric, general Cerberus bullshittery, Poor Parenting I guess? Summary: A general, an ambassador, and a commander walk into a bar to discuss the most important part of any tragedy: How will this look to the wider galactic scene?

Characters: Hannah Shepard, Donnel Udina, Original Human Character(s)

Tags: Cerberus (Mass Effect), Akuze (Mass Effect), I feel Hannah's whole... Deal here needs a CW but fuck if I know how to describe it, Contempt for your kid? Xenophobia?

Addy's fighting for her life, and I'm raiding the bar in a fucking penthouse.

The situation will be what it is either way, though, so why bother facing it sober? Hannah snatches up a good-looking bourbon and considers the glasses neatly lined up along the counter.

Donnel and Sandra walk in to her taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Is this… necessary, Shepard?” Don says, while the General takes the nearest stool and buries her face in her hands.

“Oh, absolutely, Ambassador,” Hannah says with a sharp laugh. “We've lost a colony. We've lost a lot of good soldiers, and the one we have left is-”

“Would you care to share, Hannah?” Sandra says, mostly drowning out Don's muttering of something to the effect of ‘political nightmare’.

“Get your own. It's not your kid patched up like a quarian ship out there, is it?”

Her eyes sting.

Her throat burns.

It's just the alcohol, Hannah tells herself.

For a few moments there's nothing but the sounds of Hannah rummaging for a glass and some ice, while Sandra pours herself a healthy dose of wine. Don opts for a bottle of water. Hannah considers doing the same - should do the same, she’s not exactly young anymore, even the one pull there means a hell of a headache awaits her tomorrow.

This entire month has been headache enough already. Raids and pirates and smugglers galore, the Council giving humanity the shaft yet again by refusing to allot the barest of resources, refusing any allowance for more troops in this sector or that one - but being ever so eager to allow the Alliance to push forward on some new class of ship, so long as those plucked-chicken shits were involved in every step, and now -

Hannah pours a double shot and downs it like the crap she used to smuggle onto campus back in Kingston, pointedly ignoring how much of it ends up on her sleeve as she pours one more.

It's Don who finally breaks the silence. “How do we even begin to approach something like this?” he says. The calm in his voice is borderline offensive.

“Carefully?” Sandra replies, removing her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose. “We start from the top -”

“We lost a colony,” Don shoots back. “That's bad enough - we could have recovered from that. Even the asari have lost colonies in the Traverse. Losing so many soldiers on top of it-”

“To threshers. Everyone is afraid of those things-”

“Which is precisely why they know to look out for them!” Don storms forward, slamming a fist on the countertop, hard enough to make the ice rattle in Hannah's glass. “To avoid them! While we, instead, build a town on top of a nest, without having the slightest idea of their presence! How on Earth must that look?”

God, is that all it's ever going to come back to? Hannah thinks, taking a slow sip and rubbing her temples as Don and Sandra continue bickering. Image - it always comes back to the image. She'd joined the Alliance to advance humanity and leave a legacy to the stars. Joined with the C's after Shanxi turned those dreams into a nightmare of survival, stayed on as they became Cerberus, because it was clear the Alliance wouldn't do enough, not when it could make them look bad to some glorified animals who'd happened to get their first. Days and weeks and years of bureaucratic bullshit, while innocent people got rounded up and branded and sold like cattle-

And yet here you are, sitting pretty in the PR department after all, she thinks, closing her eyes. The other projects advanced humanity, but here were the lucky bastards who had to make sure they looked good doing it; two Alliance grunts and a politician who'd made Hannah genuinely consider snorting her weight in red sand, just to flip him upside down and see if that'd shut him up for a few minutes.

“Do you have anything to contribute, Shepard?”

Speak of the goddamned devil.

“Oh, I think I've contributed plenty to the situation already,” Hannah says through a wretched sort of smile, one that only grows as Donnel's expression sours further.

Sandra, meanwhile, has started pacing. “No matter what, we need to do some damage control - we're not going to come out of this looking good, but something like this could absolutely tank colony enrollment, among other things. Could go as low as after Mindoir. Lower, even, this is the second major hit inside of two years…”

“Exactly. Why in god's name would anyone even want to be a colonist at this point?” Hannah snorts. “Leave the comforts of Sol for a rural pisswater that makes Earth's slums look luxurious in comparison, and if you're lucky, you can assist smugglers and pirates for a few credits! Lord knows the Alliance can't help you, we're spread so thin we can barely hold ourselves together; and the Council won't help us, because god forbid they take some responsibility for bombarding a new species who had no idea they had stumbled into someone else's backyard. Now they tell us we can't make so many ships, can't go here or there without risking interstellar incident; but oh, we're useful guns to take out their fucking four-eyed problems, so they dangle just enough help until the Alliance is in too deep to actually pull out, and we're too damn scared to say fuck them all and strike out on our own.”

“That would be suicide at this point, anyway,” Sandra says, shaking her head. “That's why we need someone in their ranks - they've got a millennia’s head start, but that's all they have on us- god.” She rubs her forehead and leans against the wall. “Can we just blame Anderson for this?”

“Get in line,” Hannah mutters, glancing over at Donnel, who looks rather like he's chewing his own tongue for a moment.

“His being a Spectre wouldn't have made a difference in this situation,” he finally says.

“Might've. Fourteen years is a long time - we could have more weight in decisions. More information. Even if the Alliance's general standing didn't increase, we could have sent him - or another one; I imagine if he'd succeeded, we'd have at least one more by now - in alone, instead of an inexperienced lot-”

“With all due respect, ma'am, shut the fuck up. You know damn well we wouldn't have sent a Spectre even if we had one,” Hannah snaps, raking a hand through her hair. “Yes, the colony went dark, but how the fuck were we supposed to know what was down there? Akuze has never even been targeted by pirates, it was supposed t-” Her breath hitches, and for a moment her voice won't work, and when it does, it's so quiet, there's no hiding how it shakes. “It was supposed to be safe, goddamn it.”

All those families. All those kids.

It's too long before Sandra speaks up again, and Hannah nearly misses the words anyway. Too busy trying to tally up all the names.

“You raise a fair point, Shepard,” the general says in a measured, thoughtful sort of voice. “Udina - you're also right, everyone else knows to keep away from the threshers. That's… likely why Akuze was so quiet, now that I think about it. But do we know what to look for? From orbit, or on the ground? Could we have prevented it in the first place?”

“The most I've ever heard is to be suspicious of flat circles,” Hannah shrugs. “Nothing about how to detect them from orbit, god no. Seismic readings are the most we can get for any lead time.”

“Both the settlement and the unit's camp were on a hill, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we'll work with that,” Sandra says briskly. “It's not much, but it is honest - we genuinely had no idea what to be wary of, and if anyone else did have any clue… well, clearly, they didn't think we needed to know.”

“A tragedy,” Don says, and Hannah wants to throw the watered-down remains of her drink in his face at that tone, that smarmy, holier-than-thou tone all politicians got. “A tragic, fatal mistake. The Alliance, naturally, will do all in its power to prevent such another lapse of information - but will the Council do its part? Will they deign to share their knowledge with the newest additions to the galactic community, or will they show that they simply want us out of the way?” He sighs, shaking his head. “It's as good a start as any, I suppose.”

“Might wanna omit that last part for the masses, but cheers otherwise,” Hannah says, forcing herself to down most of what remained in her glass.

“Then, the next matter-”

Oh, motherfucker, you’d better not-

“Shepard. Do we know yet, if she will pull through?”

“Adrian's stable. It looks like the grafts should take,” Hannah says, staring into her glass and gripping it far tighter than is necessary. Deep, slow breaths, she tells herself, but god it's hard to do that and conjure up her husband's voice as he'd rattled off the assessment. “Damage was. Mild, all things considered. Deepest injuries were to her head and neck, but nothing debilitating, nothing some weaves and metal can't patch up. She inhaled some of it, even, but they're pretty sure she'll be able to breathe on her own, once they can take her off the sedatives, doesn't appear to be any irreparable damage. Just some scarring to her throat.

“By current projection - if there are no surprises, she should be physically fit within a month. Isn’t that lucky? But it's only three days in, who knows what the aftereffects could be? We barely know how to detect those things, much less what happens if anyone survives.”

She stares into the glass, into her own murky reflection, trying to shut out Don's relieved sigh. Trying to shut out the question she knows is coming, trying to shut out the subsequent thought, because it is such a terrible, hideous thing, but -

“Do either of you have any idea what will come down, then?” he asks.

God, it would just be so much easier, if Addy had died as well.

“Still in the air.” Sandra at least has the grace to sound somber. “The reports are still… I'm still going over the data, as it were, and discounting Shepard herself, the three of us are the only ones who know the exact… circumstances…”

“Oh, just fucking spit it out. It looks like Adrian fell asleep on her watch, and then abandoned her fucking unit to the worms, is that so goddamn hard to say?”

“But she did send the distress call before they surfaced-”

“Oh yeah, a whole two minutes before; if she'd been awake and paying attention-"

“- and who in their right mind would blame anyone for running in those conditions? We have provisions for extraordinary, unprecedented, or unforeseen circumstances-”

“Which is great for avoiding a court-martial, but how the fuck is that going to sound to those freaks who've been watching her?!” Hannah pounds the countertop, just barely resisting the urge to shatter the glass instead; god but she just wants to see something break.

Don sinks onto the stool beside her. Slowly, fucking primly, he takes another glass and the bottle, pouring out a drink with shaking hands.

“Fourteen years,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper. “Fourteen years before they even thought to give us another chance. Shepard was our best hope, now…”

Now we're lucky if we get one in our lifetimes, Hannah thinks. The alcohol's finally working, it seems, because the thought conjures nothing but a numb, detached disappointment. At the situation, yes - but mostly, (and she's less loath to admit this to herself) at Adrian. The only child she'd ever have, and goddamn blessed - sturdy, smart, strong. Stellar aim. A human biotic who could make some true use of the skills, and what did she do with it? Tech, medicine and diplomacy; thank god she'd at least found the idea of sabotage as interesting as negotiation, enough to accept those invitations to the villa-

God. Would that still continue, after this?

“Shepard is our best candidate,” Sandra says. The words almost echo, the silence had been so complete. “She saved those aliens during Elysium, when their own kind were willing to let them be collateral damage, the Council loved that. The exact details of Akuze can be sealed - the important question is, would she say anything?”

Hannah closes her eyes, considering - Adrian could be so goddamn stubborn sometimes, but… “I don't think so,” she says. “I’m not positive - but I'm fairly sure, especially if I can talk to her when she wakes up.”

“If she can keep this quiet, then so will the Alliance,” Sandra says. “No demerits. N training remains open. We treat this as nothing more than the tragedy it is. We had no way of knowing the worms were there. There was no time to evacuate, they struck before she could distinguish them from an errant tremor. Circumstances being what they were, Shepard made a call no officer should ever make, let alone one so new to the position, and it ensured there was a survivor to even tell the tale.” The general nods, almost smiling now. “We could even play this nicely to the Council species - at the Alliance's expense, unfortunately, but personally I'd rather one of ours among their ranks, get us into shaping policy instead of being shaped by it. The asari will patronize us no matter what, so why not use that? Shepard's barely more than an infant so far as they're concerned, let them pity her. The salarians might have some respect if we frame it as a tactical retreat, they're always criticizing our refusal to admit defeat.”

“And the turians?” Don asks.

“Oh they'll blame the Alliance no matter what,” Hannah says, surprising even herself with a downright chipper tone. “Hell, we could tell them the whole thing down to the last detail, and those idiots wouldn't put any of the blame on Adrian either way. It's always on the superior officers for not knowing if a recruit isn't ready - now how in the fuck are you supposed to know that before put them out there?”

“Correct, if not the most… eloquently put,” Sandra says, narrowing her eyes slightly as they meet Hannah's. “The Alliance takes the brunt of the blame, and Shepard… well. Everyone's afraid of the thresher maws - even batarians, even the krogan. Yet here's one of ours, alive and fairly well in the grand scheme of things, after being ambushed by a nest of them… quite the angle, isn't it?”

“I suppose,” Don says, though his expression still looks grim. “This is, of course, assuming Shepard recovers, and that she's found mentally sound - “

“This isn’t gonna break my kid, Christ,” Hannah says, heedless of how the words begin to run into each other.

“- what's to say this won’t happen again?”

“I might’ve raised a fool, Donnel, but I didn't raise an idiot.” Hannah pushes away from the counter, getting unsteadily to her feet. It sounds like they've got a handle of things, no sense exhausting herself further, not when there's a hangover in the works. Not when she has more work in store later on. “Adrian knows better than to make the same mistakes twice. Hell, if I were a betting woman? I'd say she'd rather die before let herself fuck up like this again.

“So long as she does it after we've got another candidate or a Council seat- and she doesn’t pull stunts like Harkin in the meantime- I’m content. Now goodnight, Ambassador, General. I’d like to get some rest before heading out to the hospital."

[abandonedaccount1234]

MY THOUGHTS ON EPISODE 7X08

First off: RIP RICO PRIEM. There needs to be better safety precautions and LAWS put into place, not just contract negotiations, to ensure the safety of all cast and especially crew. No one should have to die to see our favorite show get made. We can week a few weeks/months between episodes if that is what it will take. Our little weewoo show is not more important than people getting home safe.

-honestly, tell him how it is Amir. Bobby affected more lives than just the 148 he took. As much as I love his growth and how he’s healed, the trauma extends past his victims into generational trauma that will probably be felt for several generations.

-it’s so emotionally jarring sometimes to see fun loving bobby who’s worked hard to piece his life back together. and then also remember, he’s the cause of 148 lives being taken. like....how does the man have a job? he would not experience the same treatment of the freedom he’s been allowed post apartment fire if he was a man of color.

-i love how the characters are flawed and not perfect people.

-MAY GRANT where you been my baby

-Athena/Bobby goals 🥰

-so bobby comes from a long line of abusive alcoholics and has been a people pleasing emotional therapist for most of his life, good to know. good. to. know.

-i haven’t personally been too fond of the whole amir’s gonna burn the building down because it kind of plays into stereotypes of black men being violent and unable to work through their emotions in a healthy way.

-i do think race aside, it’s a possibility but after tonight’s episode, it’s not something i wanna be dead set on or right about because fighting fire with fire is not good for anyone involved, no matter how much gut wrenching pain they’ve caused you.

-i mean the cartel is a storyline they haven’t touched on before. i wonder what’s next? bridge collapse? plague outbreak? eddie being demisexual?

-side note: that guy’s flowing long hair is actually so pretty

-his mother should have stepped in more

“you can keep your amends, i didn’t ask for it. it doesn’t mean a damn thing to me.”-oh damn damn DAMN they got me crying on bridgerton day AGAIN

-oh please don’t tell me bobby learned how to cook out of trauma of almost burning his house down because he had to take on the role of his mother after she left his alcoholic father

-Bobby Nash? Nah. Bobby BURNT.

-Get up Amir! Don’t die! You’ve come too far! (in the wise words of my father: a black man can’t ever catch a break, can he?)

-is he actually a ranch worker? don’t trust a man with a truck you don’t know kids. DONT DRINK THE WATER. ITS GONNA KNOCK YOU OUT.

-of course the guy with the car WAS HIS GRANDSON

-did i not just tell you to not take candy from a strange man you just men in the middle of nowhere?

-BOBBY NASH DOES HIS OWN STUNTS

-ommercial break mantra to calm myself: athena will always find you, don’t worry. do what you gotta do to survive guys.

-back to bobby/amir: i think it’s important for bobby to meet someone who can’t forgive him for what he’s done, who no matter how much he’s grown, will never be able to see him apart from the trauma and pain he inflicted. it’s more realistic.

-Who Can It Be Now? Song by Men at Work

-Bobby’s dad dies in an alcoholic accident after he verbally assaulted him for being a kid who was left on his own to figure things out is INSANE TIM MINEAR SHIT.

-i don’t think he’s alive anymore bro...

-is bobby can drop to his knees and pray or something?

-welp he dropped to his knees

-poor little bobby

-NOT HIM BLEEDING ALL OVER THE SCRAPBOOK WHAT IN THE WORSE THAN EVAN BUCKLEY TRAUMA IS THIS SHIT WTF THAT’S UNCALLED FOR NO WONDER HE BECAME AN ALCOHOLIC JESUS CHRIST

-stay alive by matt alder

-I hope Amir sticks around. I like him. He keeps things emotionally interesting. I needed a good cry.

-commercial break thoughts: where tf is charlie now? i didn’t realize how much older he was supposed to be

-BIG PROPS to the makeup team

-i like this new girl, hope we see her again. her hair is flawless.

-acting pro peter krause

-“i live my life just trying not to make anything worse”

-michael jamal warner. incredible work tonight my man.

-what in the offbrand huge hulk loke tommy/buck/eddie are those firefighter dudes

-DONT DO IT LITTLE BOBBY YOU ARE A CHILD WHY DID THEY LEAVE HIM ALONE

-I WAS RIGHT THEY TRY TO BURN BOBBY’S HOUSE DOWN WTF I WAS RIGHT I BET ITS THE DAMN CARTEL

[sofasoap]

Eternal happiness among us

Pairing: Simon “Ghost ” Riley x f!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary: Epilogue to the Mini MacTavish series : Simon route Confession time.

Warning: Mature Themes, Swearing, hints of sexy time. fluff ( yes, I finally add in some fluffs), alcohol use, violence mentioned.

A/N : Kind of Continuation/parallel universe of @saltofmercury ’s “The Favorite MacTavish” , where the reader/OC is Soap’s little sister. PLEASE GO READ HER STORY first to make sense of this series. Thank you for leading me your character!  “masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

When he promise you he will take things slow this time round.

IT WAS SLOW. Always the same routine. He comes back from the mission, forces one of the boys ( they always happily accept ) from the squad to babysit, takes you out for a quiet dinner, take you home. Never stays overnight.

He always picks you up, look at you in the eyes first for permission before reaching for your hand. Two of you will then stroll down to the Italian restaurant not far from your house, order two pasta, two glasses of wine, a dessert to share, and slowly walk home.

He didn't attempt to kiss you until the seventh date. On the CHEEK.

He tries to be a good father. He made an effort to spend as much time as he can with the kids while he is back in UK. Little Johnny always keen to "talk" to his father, blabbering baby languages ( "I did say he is like you. Chatterbox." Simon joked.) While Aileen was slower to warm up to him ( You could see he was disheartened when Aileen screamed and refuses to let him hold her first few weeks.) One day she crawled slowly towards Simon, all by herself and open her arm demanding her father to pick her up. Simon's heart just melt. He knew he was a goner by then. He is determined from that day onward no pests is good enough for his baby daughter.

Months later after the start ( restart?) of the slow courtship, Soap was staying over few nights in London, he sat you down and announce that their upcoming mission will be taking them away for at least six months. His eyes flickers towards Emma who was preparing dinner in the kitchen. " Probably have to go dark for a period of time. Can't say much but we got solid lead to bust one of the larger cartels in the area." He usually isn't the one that will give you information voluntarily about work. Your sense is tingling. You don't have a good feeling about this. The kids will miss their uncle. Their dad. You will miss your brother. You will miss your... date? boyfriend? father of your child? You and Simon haven't really had " the talk ". Gosh , it sounds so silly putting it that way. You two basically have done things in strange order. Meet, became acquaintance, had sex, produced babies, near confession plus rejection , going on date and.. what?

What if they don't return? Hurrying up the stairs, into your room, you drag out a shoebox from the depth of the wardrobe. As soon as you found what you were looking for at the bottom of the box and set right to work. Next night, Simon came over again. Out for dinner. Usual routine. But something felt different this time. The atmosphere seems more tense. His thumb rubbing along your knuckles as you two slowly walk home. Stopping at the front door of the house, you turn around to face him. Gathering courage, you fidget with the small object in your pocket. "Simon." He look down towards you, "I .. um.. want you to have this." Pressing the small polaroid photo into his hand.  it shows picture of you and a very begrudge looking Ghost, looking away from the camera. Both of you look like you been off your head. The photo that was taken after you met Ghost for the first time and narrowly lost to him after the drinking game. You can see a hint of smile on his face while looking at the photo. Turning the photo over, there was a dried Thistle on the back of it. " ...I gave one as well to Johnny when he first joined SAS as a good luck charm... Thistle means strength and protection.." you look at his large, callous hand. " Come back in one piece Simon. The kids need their father.. I need their father." you swallowed, looking up at him,

" I need you. I can't imagine losing you." you confessed. Tears filling your eyes. Next second you feel his lip on yours. You moaned into his mouth. Tiptoeing up, pressing your body into his, wanting to get closer, to feel him. He deepens the kiss. "Aye ye two! remember protection this time round!!! Guest bedroom downstairs is free!! "jumping apart when you heard Soap yelling from the second floor window and feeling of embarrassment rising, you quickly buried your heated face into Ghost's chest.

"I swear.. that bampot cockblocking brother of mine.." You mumbled.

"Git awa' an bile yer heid!" Simon shouted back as he hold you tight. Pair of hand appeared behind Soap and yanked him back inside.

" Sorry! please continue!" Shouted Emma as she slam shut the window.

Lifting your head with horror, " Simon! Where did you learn that?!!" "Heard it from Soap when he told me to fuck off once. " He shrugged. " What? My kids are half Scottish, I need to learn some words."

You laughed. " If I hear them running around saying that.. I will chop you and Johnny's head off first." As the laughter settle, you two pulled apart. He gave you one last kiss on the lip before stepping away , ready to leave. You grab his arm to stop him.

" .... Stay for the night? Please?" You whispered. His eyes darkened.

" .. Are you sure." " I am. Just like last time. I am sure."

That night, he confessed with the three words you never thought will ever hear coming out from his mouth as you drifted off to sleep, both worn out from the passionate yet tender session. " I love you."

Don't worry they won't die. lol

If any of you have read my alternative ending ""Thistle and Thorn" ( which i wrote before writing this epilogue) you will know the meaning of the thistle and more story behind it.

Well. This is the end of Simon's route. I was going to add bit of drabble with this, but it felt right to end the chapter where it is. I'll put up a drabble chapter just for the domestic life after. If anyone ever noticed, I been dropping hints here and there setting up for Soap x OC/Reader if I manage to finish off König's route. THANK YOU all again for all the likes, comments and reblogs. That kept me going, wanting to write more.

[mynotsohealthyobsession]

Disembodied parte 4/8

Warning: Mention of death // Angst // Fluff

Pairings: Adrian Raines X MC // Nik Ryder X MC

Words: 1.277

As always, tags in the reblog!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

They both stood rooted in place. Neither of them moved or said a word. It seemed like time had stopped and neither of them knew how to reset it. Their eyes studied each other's faces, recognizing themselves. Amy saw the ponytail that Alex had made with her hair, something truly unusual for her. Alex, instead, noticed that Amy had picked her more casual clothes, avoiding anything hunter-related.

After a while, Amy walked inside the penthouse and closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it to keep her distance. She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. "I don't know if you are who I think you are but–"

"You are Amy." Alex cut her. "The real Amy."

"And you are Alex."

"Yes."

"We need to talk."

"No kidding. Let's start with what's going on and why are you in my body?"

"I don't know." Amy said sorrowfully. "I've been asking myself that for over a week." Alex stood quietly, simply observing Amy and what used to be her body. It was curious but for some reason, she trust Amy. She sighed.

"So I guess you know as much as I do."

"If you know absolutely nothing, then yeah, we are on the same page." Alex chuckled grimly.

"I need a drink." Alex said and Amy observed how her former body moved to the kitchen without her conscience in it. Like she was watching an extremely realistic movie about herself. “Where the hell is the alcohol here?”

"There's a wine cellar under the counter."

"You have been here before?"

"Yeah. Adrian let me stay here for a while last year." Amy looked around nostalgically. "And we celebrated our first victory here."

"I see." Alex returned with two glasses and a bottle of wine, sitting back in front of Amy again. "This has to be the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life." She commented. "And trust me, I've seen a few really weird things."

"Yeah, me too." She took the glass that Alex was passing her taking a big and grateful sip of it, trying to relax her nerves.

"I don't know if you know but I'm a vampire." She thought over her words for a second. "Well, you are a vampire."

"I imagine it." Amy sighed. "After what happened I guess it was the only option."

"Does it bother you?"

"...No. I didn't want to die or leave Adrian and the rest behind." She touched her chest. "There are too many things I want to see and do yet."

"I know the feeling."

“I tried to talk with Adrian about it before everything but it wasn't the right time. The truth is… I wanted to be Turned. Maybe under better circumstances but…” She took a deep breath. "Anyway… Apparently, you have new powers too."

"I do?" Amy put her hand up, the palm facing the ceiling, and concentrated, closing her eyes. After a while, her skin became warmer and Alex gasped. "Oh, I can't wait to test those babies out." She grinned until their reality hit them again. "If we actually manage to get this right."

"We will. We have to."

"What happened to Thomas?"

"Thomas?" Amy paused for a second. "Oh, that white thing." She nodded. "When I woke up, I killed it, with your new powers."

“Finally. That bastard gave us a lot of problems.” Alex left her glass on the table. “Everybody is okay, right?”

"Yes, they are all fine. They were more concerned about you.” She took the bottle, removing the cork again. “Nik came with me, actually."

"Oh."

"You don't sound too happy. Should I tell him to leave?"

"No, it's just… Things are complicated between us right now."

"I see." Amy filled the glasses again. "If it's worth anything, he's been really worried about you." Alex shrugged, looking down at the red wine. "Are you close to him?"

"I thought I was." Her stare became distant like her mind was somewhere else. "But apparently his care has an expiration date." Amy nodded, taking a sip. "How about you and Adrian?"

"We are. I think…" Amy smiled. "...We are kinda dating? Maybe?" She grinned for a moment until her eyes focused on Alex and her smile was gone. She hadn't thought of what had happened here until now. They had kissed? Or maybe more? She couldn't blame him if it was the case, he would have thought it was her, but it would hurt either way.

"I think you should know that nothing happened between us."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I have the feeling that he was wanting to talk about something with me… You… But the second he noticed something was different, he kept his distance." Alex swirled the reminds of wine in her glass, pensive. “I think that, deep down, he knew I wasn’t you.”

“I’m not that surprised, to be honest.” Amy gently chuckled to herself. “Adrian is really perceptive at times.”

“I think he is especially perceptive about you.” Amy drank a sip, covering her smile with the glass.

“Same goes for you and Nik, you know.” Alex bit down her bottom lip, looking a little sad. “And nothing happened between us either. Actually, he gave me a really hard time.”

“He gives everyone a hard time.” Alex stood, getting close to the dark window and looking down to where Adrian and Nik were waiting for them. “He is kind of an ass but his heart is in the right place. Most of the time at least.”

“He also wants to talk with you about something. From the moment I woke up.” Alex nodded absently. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not. Before Thomas’ attack he…” Alex sighed. “Let’s just say we weren't on the same page.”

“I understand.” Amy also let her gaze wander to wander to the outside world. “Are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.” She took a jacket and they both walked to the hallway, taking the elevator down. Seeingthe woman exit the elevator, the men walked over.

“Everything okay?” Adrian asked.

“Yeah.” Amy smiled at him and Alex cleared her throat.

"I think I should introduce myself. Alex Fontaine. And…" She hesitated before continuing to talk. "...Adrian, I'm sorry that I've lied to you for this past week, I–"

"There's no need for that." His tone was polite and normal, not angered at all. "I understand why you did it."

"Thank you."

"Alex," Nik called her. She didn't say a word, simply watching him with a mix of anger and sadness in her posture.

Amy called Adrian's attention with a discreet squeeze on his upper arm. "Maybe we should give them some privacy." She murmured to him.

"I appreciate it but that's not necessary," Alex said, firmly. "First, I think we should try to figure this out." She narrowed her eyes looking at Nik's eyes directly. "Then we'll see."

"Works for me." Nik agreed. "Ivy is going to join us in a video call. She decided to stay back in NOLA and check some books."

"We can use the conference room for that," Adrian said, guiding the group through the doors to the elevator.

Nik whistled looking around. "Nice setup, man. Are you trying to compensate for something?"

"Nik!" Alex reprimanded him but Adrian just smirked.

"Curious. That was my exact thought about your many weapons." He opened the conference room and gave Nik access to the main computer to call Ivy. Only a minute later, her face popped on the wall screen. After exchanging a few friendly words, she looked straight at the camera.

"I have found a few things about this you all need to hear."

✨️

[fatefulfortune]

Welcome to Aurora Bay @aurorabayaesthetic, [ELLIOT WEAVER] ! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [NICK ROBINSON]. You must be the [TWENTY-NINE] year old [LOTTERY WINNER]. Word is you’re [GENEROUS] but can also be a bit [GLUM] and your favorite song is [END OF BEGINNING BY DJO]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY DRIVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

Name: Elliot Timothy Weaver Nicknames: Eli (preferred name), Ellie, E.T. Age: 29 Birthday: October 15th, 1994 FC: Nick Robinson Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him/His Sexuality: Bisexual Height: 6'1 Blood Type: A+ Build: Medium Vices: Cannabis, Alcohol, Cigarettes Favorite Colors: Red & Orange

History

Elliot grew up entirely average. Greatness wasn't in store for the middle Weaver child. His older brother was a football star and his younger sister was a pageant queen and as a result his parents attention was usually used up in pursuing his siblings dreams. Elliot never minded much. His nose was typically buried in a book as he was dragged along for support to his siblings endeavors. As he grew up the more Eli branched out on his own. He found himself friends with the band geeks and nerds more than the popular crowd his family was drawn to. He was never prom royalty but he also never wanted to be and he was entirely content. He had a girlfriend whom he loved and friends who he could depend on, what more could he ask for? When Elliot graduated high school he decided to stick around in Amarillo. The town might be small but it was his home and after a few years at the local community college he got a job in auto insurance. He was still with the same girl from high school who he proposed to at the age of twenty-six after being together for ten years. Life was good for Eli and he saw his whole future ahead of. Marriage, a couple of kids running around, and a small house he'd call home, maybe even a white picket fence. All of that changed one fateful afternoon in August of 2023. Elliot came home on his lunch break only to catch his fiance with another man. He was heartbroken and the simple life he'd had planned for himself was ruined. The engagement was off then and there and Eli quickly spun downward.  Life had gone to shit. His fiance moved out (and in with the guy she'd been cheating with) and Elliot spent most nights drinking and wallowing in self pity. Things couldn't have gotten any worse and miraculous it didn't. Almost two months after his break up Elliot's life would change again. He was never much of a gambler but one night when buying cigarettes he decided to purchase a lottery ticket from the gas station. Never in Eli's wildest dreams did he expect to actually win but he did. 16.8 million dollars to be exact. His life changed overnight once again. His achievement became the biggest story to hit Amarillo history in the last 20 years and it seemed everyone who'd ever known Elliot was coming out of the woodwork including his ex.  Everyone put a bad taste in his mouth and after he'd been coerced into giving away nearly a million dollars to various different people in a very short period of time Elliot went into hiding. He could no longer trust the people closest to him as they all seemed to turn green with envy or fat with greed. His new found wealth made him incredibly lonely and forced him to outgrow his town he'd once called home. Instead Elliot decided to travel until he figured out where he wanted to call home next. That was how he wound up in Aurora Bay. He'd always heard the weather was nice in southern California and he figured it was as good a place as any to relocate for the time being.

Headcanons

Elliot's life is a mess. He's still recovering from his recent breakup over the summer and now that he's a millionaire he really doesn't know how to act. One minute he's celebrating and the next he's crying because his Spotify Wrapped playlist reminds him of home.

He is the embodiment of the meme "If I ever win the lottery I won't tell anybody but there will be signs". He doesn't boast about his wealth but he's definitely treating himself and is very generous with his money. He has been known to give 50% to 100% tips at businesses around town.

He's stopped doing laundry all together. Now he simply donates his clothes and buys new ones when he needs them. Laundry has always been his least favorite chore and now that he doesn't have to clean his clothes he won't.

He spontaneously drops twenty dollar bills around just to brighten people's days.

There's always a pile of packages waiting for him at his mailbox. Half the time he doesn't know what he's ordered because he's developed a late night spending habit whenever he can't sleep.

Elliot moved into a "small" mansion off Aurora Bay Drive. He's still furnishing it and frankly doesn't know what to do with all the rooms the home has to offer. It's slowly but turning into the ultimate bachelor pad while he saves at least one bedroom to be used as a guest room whenever his family comes to visit.

[dragynkeep]

do you think taiyang is a bad father?

I think Tai suffers the worst out of inconsistent and directionless character writing, especially since he's by far the STRQ member with the least amount of time and effort given to him, behind even Summer who was literally barely here for 8 volumes.

Like they wanted to built mystery with Summer. They just didn't care about Taiyang.

And I think people are honestly right in not liking him or being neutral because of this. He's a single father who had to raise two daughters by himself after being abandoned by his first wife and then widowed when his second wife died, leading him to shut down and really fail on being there 100% for Yang and Ruby.

But then they also decided that he was this brilliant dad who Yang and Ruby have no issues with, but then change it again in V5 with Yang calling him by his first name and saying he was never there, and then again in V9 with Ruby now saying that Yang raised her when we're given conflicting information.

Did Tai step back up after a period of understandable grief, with Yang having to do some things as the eldest? Was he a neglectful father to the point that Yang basically had to become Ruby's mother and is rightfully bitter over this?

I also think that some of his scenes are unfairly criticised:

The joke about Yang's arm was only wrong in that Port and Oobleck weren't in the loop, and you really don't make those jokes amongst yourselves when there's company not in on the joke.

Also the backstory of Yang and Ruby sneaking out as kids and nearly getting killed. I know some people think that Tai was so neglectful that he literally didn't see his own kids leaving the house, but Tai was literally at work when this happened. Yang said so in the flashback, she waited until her dad was out of the house before leaving, and since he's a single dad with no one to help, including the alcoholic uncle who is barely there, who could he ask to watch them?

That wasn't an example of Tai's neglect, that literally proved otherwise with Yang having to wait until he was physically not there so she could leave.

And finally him not going after Ruby after Yang left. It's kinda both a mischaracterisation and the writers just... not giving him a good reason not to go.

With Ruby it was reasonable. She ran away without him knowing, just leaving a note, and he couldn't leave when his recently disabled daughter was still with him. Yang also tried to leave with just a note, but he caught her and this is where the reasonable explanations really fall flat.

Because there's nothing left keeping Tai from going with Yang to find Ruby. We know why the WRITERS didn't want him to go, they didn't have a reason for Tai to become part of the main plot, since Qrow was already there to serve that the only role he can fit in, but they forgot that you kinda need an inuniverse reason for why characters can't do things.

Which they didn't. So now we're left thinking "Why is Taiyang just sitting there, watering his flowers, when his two children are out fighting the literal war he's one of the few people that know?"

So a lot of people who already don't like Tai make up reasons about his characters, when it's just simply bad writing.

Why did Tai not go after Ruby and Yang? Same reason why Ironwood suddenly became a one-dimensional villain that bombed poor people. Why Maria and Pietro suddenly vanished from the plot to the point where we didn't even see them when the citizens were rescued, but they made a point to show the racist grandma and the two drunks instead.

Bad writing. Taiyang just feels like they needed a fourth member of Team STRQ and decided to make him Ruby and Yang's dad.