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xgryffinwhore · 3 years

Text

september nights

request: i was wondering if you could write another soft bill smut? i don’t really have a specific plot in mind, we’re just really lacking content on tumblr rn :( in some really precarious place where they don’t want to get caught

warnings: soft smut, like i mean very soft.

word count: 2118

before your lips met bill denbrough’s, love was always, to say the least, a conundrum. lets be real for second, boys wasted your time, and you let them. only the cute ones of course. you are a hopeless romantic, drunk off of molly ringwald and john travolta films. you wanted any relationship you had to be just like the movies.

through your heart breaks, your best friends stood by you, your losers. eddie, richie, bev, stan, ben, and bill. for each tear you shed a punch was thrown to the man who caused it, they were protective over you. bill the most though, he always got so defensive when you were in the mix. all throughout middle & high school, bill has had to deal with every guy who even dares to think about breaking your heart.

“its not fair bill” you wailed into your pillow. he stroked your back and hushed you, his eyes welling with tears. “im never fucking good enough for any guy and its so fucking sad!” your complaints being cut off mid sentence by a choked out cry. “y-y/n. all of y-your boyfriend are i-idiots. anyone w-who would d-d-do this to you isnt w-worth your t-time. anyone w-would be the luckiest in the w-world to have y-you in their life” you picked your head up and looked at him with swollen lips and blood shot eyes “there no one out there for me bill, no one.”

he bit his lip, fighting back any tears dripping from his eyes “they j-just dont see how p-pretty you are. how g-gentle and caring and s-s-sweet, and h-how your face c-can light up any room. theyre f-fucking idiots, and you d-deserve m-more.” you clearly thought he was being nice, because you could take a MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN hint, so you replied “i wish there was someone out there like you, for me, that thinks of me the way you do.”

he furrowed his brows, tossing his head back and running his fingers furiously through his hair. “d-dammit y/n!” he cursed “cant you s-see what ive b-been trying to say? w-w-what ive been t-trying to say f-for the last f-five years!?!” your expression was bewildered, your brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what he meant. his frustration got the best of him, he got up and stormed out the door, feeling embarrassed and stupid for trying to make you understand how he felt.

he was half way out your front door, fuming for his keys lodged deep into his front pocket; when suddenly:

“bill!”

his head turned at the call of his name, “y-y/n please i d-”

smack.

your lips locked with his, he rain pouring heavily outside. bills lips stilled at the contact, but this lasted briefly, he deepened this kiss by pulling you in to his abdomen by your mid back. your bunched the front of his base ball t shirt with your fists, and he did the same but with your hair.

the rest is basically history.

now six months later, and you couldnt have been happier. bill knew how to treat you, nights out twice a week (you always wanted to pay but bill insisted,) holding your hand to and from classes, he let you borrow have his varsity baseball jacket, which smelt just like him and was a little too big for you.

when he would drop you off and your classes, he would always grab your hand and transfer a tiny piece of paper into your palm. when you got into class to unfold it, it was always a cute little message about his love for you.

bill had it bad for you, everyone knew that, and you loved every minute of it. he met every and any standard you had, and exceeded your expectations.

it was september, still warm enough in derry to wear shorts, so you and your friends thought of a last hurrah for the ending of the summery weather.

“camp out, its nearly perfect” Richie exclaimed. eddie rolled his eyes “like youve ever been near anything perfect toizer, do you even know what perfect means?” richie shoved eddie “yeah eddie i actually have. have you seen amanda’s tits?”

you tuned out richie and eddies bickering as you’re boyfriend cleared his throat. “you g-gonna go?” he said into your ear, “only if you promise to wear bug spray bill, you know how bad-” he cut you off with a kiss, his mouth forming a small smile at how cute you were. “get a room, honestly” stan poked, pda wasn’t his favorite... “at least i h-have something to k-kiss aye s-stannie”

you arrived at the edge of the forest, parking your car at the last parking ish space. you walked toward the sounds of ben and richie fighting, and came to see that richie really went all out. three tents, sticks for a fire, and more snacks than anyone needed.

you all spent the remanence of the daylight dancing in the light sky, sharing stories, and eating waaaay too many chips. it was dark now, you all huddled in a circle near the fire; making small talk and trying not to admit you were all very tired.

“ok folks, im off to bed” richie yawned “me stan eddie n’ mike will take the green tent, bev and ben in the red.” richie paused and smirked over at you and bill, you were tangled in his limbs, golfed in his navy blue pull over. “and uh- heh- billy boy and y/n in the yellow tent eh?” you could practically feel bills eye roll, god richie was so immature.

“w-we dont have to s-sleep in the s-s-same tent, i c-can ask ben if he’d s-switch” you look up at bill and reassure him “bill no- its not a big deal, right?” he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your temple “c-course not.”

you both went into the tent, bill began to unroll the blankets you both had packed tightly into your bags. You both set up your makeshift bed, bill leaned against a pile of pillows while you hugged his side, your face buried in his neck. his smell was absolutely intoxicating; his skin had remanence of his milk and honey body wash, but it was slightly overpowered by wintergreen, clove, and his bourbon cologne.

you were like this for around an hour, the orange crank-powered lantern being the only source of light. you switch positions though, you now laid your head on his lap, reading a magazine you stole from the hair salon. he watched your eyes scan every letter, when you read something funny you’d huff to yourself, and when something was intresting you stuck your tongue out from between your teeth. he adored you.

“d-dont stay up t-too late” he stroked your hair off your shoulder “we have t-to have you w-well r-r-rested.” you sat up from beside him, as he adjusted the pillows and took off his pull over, then his pants. he got under the covers and waited for you.

“nice donut boxers” you laughed. “s-shut up” he blushed and regreted not changing them when he had the chance. you turned around took off your shirt, you were shy about how you looked, but it was just bill. it was just bill. you heard his breath hitch, his eagerness radiating off his body onto yours. the air became tense as you unzipped your pants and threw them to the corner. you turned around, bills pupils growing until you were completely facing him.

“yeah i know. mine are boring” you laugh nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear and getting under the covers next to him. he didnt respond, he couldnt take his eyes off of you.you began to sit up again “i can go put back on-” “n-no!” he interrupts, his blush taking up his entire face.

“i j-j-just cant b-believe i g-get to see something s-so special” he gulped “s-so b-b-b-beautiful.”

you grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him, hard. youve been with boys before, i mean youve dated plenty of people. but no one ever called your body special. hot, yeah. nice, yeah. beautiful, sure. but no one ever thought that it was special.

bill was a kind boy, the most you two have ever done is get each other off with your hands, always clothed. bill never asked to see more, he felt lucky enough just to make you feel good, and that was enough for him. so when you felt the heat of his hands hovering over your body but not touching it, you new you’d have to call the shots tonight.

“bill,” you laid down “just touch me everywhere, please.” he crawled in between your legs, kneeling so that he could lean over your face “m-my pleasure.”

he traced your collar, leaving small, delicate, kisses to make up for what his fingers left behind as they trailed. he kissed the valley between your breasts, licking slow striped down your skin. he picked up your upper back a little and cocked his head to the side, you nodded and he unclipped your bra. he sat their with his mouth open, taking in the view. you blushed and muttered “hey, keep that mouth to good use.” he dipped down and sucked on your nipples, his mouth felt so good against your skin grazed with goosebumps. he was gingerly with his tongue, it was sexy, it was romantic. he kissed down your stomach, his fingers sweeping down your sides. you could see his member pressing against his boxers, the pressure made him wince every once in a while. his fingers met your panties and he hooked them. again, he looked up for permission, you nodded once again.

he brought your underwear down your legs and off, looking back to see what he had relieved. he licked his lips, getting ready to please you more than he already did. but you felt bad, bill always gave gave and gave. “its ok, im ready right now.” bill looked up at you in shock, he wasnt expecting you’d want to go all the way. “y/n, y-youre sure?” you lean up and kiss his lips, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip “please.”

he pulled down his boxers eagerly, his member sprung out to hit his stomach. he lined up with you, checking once more that it was ok. then he pushed in, bottoming out. he felt bigger than you thought, of course he was well endowed, but he filled you up so well. you mewled, the pain and pleasure making a delicious feeling that made your toes curl.

he waited, but began slowly moving after a bit. he grunted, feeling you wrapped around him was something he’d never be able to get out of his head he thought to himself. he grunted “f-fuck this feels g-good’ he grunted, his breath becoming heavy and full of lust. with every stroke, you felt yourself get more and more lost in the bliss he made you feel. “youre making me feel so good bill” you moan, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth driving him absolutely crazy. he speeds up, loving the view of your face contorting in pleasure and your body moving with his.

he couldnt help but feel admiration to you, your hair formed a halo around your head, and the sweat that coated your skin made you glisten in the orange light. “im t-the luckiest in the world” he husks, holding your cheek.

you felt the knot in your core coming undone, “bill im close” you strain, trying not to be too loud so you dont wake your friends. he moved your leg up to his shoulder, hitting you from a different, deeper angle. his fingers went to your clit, making you bite your had to stop you from screaming. “you l-look so p-pretty y/n, t-taking me s-so well. making y-you feel so good.” “so good bill” you repeat, drunken off his cock and fingers.

without warning, you came came, your legs spazzing as you moaned “fuck bill” he followed, his hips stuttering, as he cried out into your shoulder. he pulled out and laid next to you, both of you breathing heavily and coming off your highs.

“y/n” he looked at you “t-that was really j-just wow- thank y-you.” you kissed him, chaste and sweet “that was great yeah?” “it w-was perfect babe. t-thank you f-for t-that. i love you y-y/n.”

“i love you too bill.”

he sat up, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“c-can we p-please do t-that again?”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #bill denbrough x you #bill denbrough fanfic #IT movie #it fanfiction #it bill #jaeden martell #jaeden lieberher #jaeden wesley #jaeden x reader #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell smut #richie tozier #eddiekaspbrak #stanley uris

2K notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 2 years

Text

Masquerade at midnight

Gender neutral reader

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Word count: 3.1k

Notes: Oscar Isaac. That’s the note.

~~~

Chapter Five - Family history

You wake with a light throbbing in your head. You're unable to open your eyes right away, so you settle for laying there with your arm draped over your eyes. Your wrist feels sore, but you'll worry about that in a moment. You need to wake up first.

The room stops spinning as you lower your arm. You blink your eyes a couple of times. The room is quiet, warm, and comforting.

You sigh.

There's a pulsing sensation in your wrist, so you lift it to inspect it. You furrow your brows and everything comes back to you. Right there on your arm were two tiny marks. You sit up and take a closer look, running your fingers over them gently. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

Vampires.

Right. Mads had said as such. You drop your hand and go to get up, but something hard under your palm stops you from moving any further. You pick it up. The book. You stare at words on the cover. Opening the cover, you turn the page to the lists. You look at your surname on it.

"What am I?" You ask yourself. What legacy did your family leave behind?

Vampires. All of them. And they wanted to know you. They want you to stay.

You turn the page again and read the title written boldly across the top.

The creation.

You close the book and sigh. You needed to hear more from them. You recall Ben saying he would be in the garden waiting for either you to show, or the car leaving the estate. You slide off the bed and hold onto the book, making your exit from the room.

You don't see anyone as you exit the house. Not until you get outside and see a small table and chairs set up just ahead. Mads sits in one of the chair sipping from a china cup. Michael Caine, his butler, stood by. You head on over. Mads' head tilts when he hears you approach.

"You're awake."

You come around and sit down in the other vacant chair. He smiles at you. You place the book in your lap and look at him.

"I'm awake."

He says nothing as he pours tea into your cup. You watch him pour the hot liquid. You're not really in the mood, but you'll humour him. You thank him and lift the cup, sipping from it.

"Tell me," he says.

"I need a little more time, but I'd like to stay a while longer while I decide."

"That's fair. My home is your home," he smiles.

"I'm grateful for that. I'll read this book. I need to know more. You're asking a lot."

"I know."

You nod and cast your eyes out over to the garden. You see a figure clad in black looking over at you. It's Ben. He smiles softly from where he stands. You smile back. You turn back to Mads.

"Show me your world."

Mads smile seems to grow. He stands up and adjusts his jacket. He turns to you and holds out his hand.

"Come with me."

You grab his hand. Mads adjusts it so you're linking with his arm. He takes the book from your hand and gives it to his butler. They nod at one another. While Michael heads back into the house, Mads leads you away from the table and into the garden. This is the opposite one Ben had led you through. Still, it's beautiful and full of flowers and greenery. He walks with you for a short period without saying anything.

The garden opens up to a fountain. A gazebo stands on the other side just in sight. Around the fountain were many colourful flowers. A bench sits on either side facing the fountain. He walks you right past this. Just out of sight, past a few hedges and trees, there's a statue. The faces are faded, but the plaque under the stone couple can be read.

"Your parents?" You ask, reading two names.

"I had this made when I lost them, along with all those who fought with them."

You turn to face him. "What happened?"

Mads look at you, letting go of you. He walks a little closer to the statue and kneels down. He places his hand over their names and looks at the plaque with longing. You stand there watching in silence.

"A lesser vampire decided they were better than the rest of us. He wanted more than I could offer him and started a war as a result. His followers killed many of us back then. He is still out there, waiting." Mads gazes at you.

You swallow nervously.

"And he's coming for you?"

"I believe so."

"And you want my help?"

Mads stands back up and turns to face you. He stands taller than you, but you don't feel intimidated. You find yourself taking a step closer to him. You are not afraid of him.

"Yes." He lifts his head a little higher and says, "I have something that is rightfully yours. Well, I will have. Daniel acquired it for me. It is on route here as we speak."

"What is it?" You ask.

"I'll show you when it arrives. Daniel will let me know once it arrives."

"Alright, but how am I going to help you? I'm not a hunter in any sense of the word," you say, worried about everything that had been laid out in front of you. It was a lot to take in.

Mads smiles softly.

"Oscar can help you if you wish to go through with training," he says.

"Oscar?"

"Yes. I won't say too much on the matter.... but he was once a hunter too."

He was a hunter too? You would have to talk to him at some point. Perhaps you really did belong here among them. It seemed almost as if fate was playing a part.

"I'll be sure to talk to him."

Mads smiles.

"Now, I think I've taken up enough of your time. I believe Ben was waiting for you in the garden."

You find yourself blushing, your cheeks feeling warm. That's right. Ben had told you he would be waiting, and with all this information from Mads, you hadn't been to see him yet. You nod at Mads. He leads you back through the grounds and to the other side where he parts ways, leaving a small kiss to your wrist. The skin tingles as he walks away. You fear he may feel bad about what happened in the office, but you had asked him to prove his truth and he did. You promised to make it up to him later.

As you turn around to enter the other garden, you're stopped in your tracks. Ben stands there grinning at you. You find yourself smiling too as you look at him.

"So, you're sticking around."

You walk a little closer so you're standing beside him.

"Yeah, felt like the right thing to do. Though, it is strange to learn I'm sharing a house full of vampires. No wonder you were all so worried about this."

Ben smiles softly.

"We really didn't want to scare you away. It's strange how much you can like someone in such a short amount of time. I think it's perhaps because of your family history. Many of us feel like we know you already," he says, speaking softly.

"I appreciate the sentiment. Keep in mind that I don't really know anything though. Only what Mads has shared with me."

"I know. I hope you find yourself liking it here."

"I think... I may already do. I still have a lot to get used to, and it would be nice to meet everyone properly. I didn't really get a chance to speak to everyone at the dinner party."

You and Ben fall into step together as you begin to wander around the garden. All the flowers bring life and colour to the area around you. You even notice Anson taking care of some up ahead. He does a wonderful job looking after the grounds.

"You'll get along with everyone, I'm sure. Some take some time to open up, but I know they'll like you as I do," Ben grins. You give him a playful nudge with your elbow as you laugh.

"Mads told me Oscar would be the best person to go to for my training. Being from a hunting family, he would be able to teach me what I need to know."

Ben nods, "yeah, he was a hunter once. Things... turned nasty, but that isn't for me to tell."

"I know, Mads said the same thing. Everyone seems to have a story and I'm curious. I'm already aware, sort of, about your background, but it would be nice to get to know you better," you say, smiling.

"Well, I can't say no to that. I'm very keen to get to know you."

You shake your head and turn your attention away from him. Ben was a tease and he knew exactly what he was saying and doing. Hopefully you can get him back for this soon.

"I could take you to Oscar now. Might as well get to meet him one on one," Ben offers.

"Could you? I might as well get started now."

Ben nods and takes a turn through the garden. You wave at Anson as you pass him and he gives a dazzling smile in return. His hair is unkept from kneeling down to tend to the flowers. He looks very much at home out here.

Ben leads you around the back of the huge mansion. You hadn't seen much of back here since your arrival, so there was a lot of new things to see. As you round the building, you see a stable in the distance. Some horses poking their heads of stalls and someone looking after them, but you can't see who properly from where you were standing. On the the other side, up a small hill, was a little a little outdoor yard. Ben walked you up the hill. When you got closer you could see targets, a storage shed, and a whole lot of room to move around.

Oscar was polishing a very sharp looking sword. He was sitting on what seemed to be a hay bail of to the side of the shed. He didn't notice you both right away. Ben stops a short distance away from him and coughs. Oscar lifts his gaze up and looks between you both.

"What can I do for the pair of you?" He asks. Oh, his voice. His voice sent a little shiver down your spine. He's very handsome too.

"Got you a new little trainee," Ben says, nodding at you.

You cross your arms and glare at him, "little?"

Ben grins and turns away from you.

Oscar stops his polishing and puts the sword to one side. He looks you up and down and seems to focus intensely on you. You feel a bit nervous under his gaze.

"Turn around."

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you had him correctly. When he holds his finger up and circles it, motioning for you to spin around, you do so, though awkwardly.

"Hmm."

You stand there waiting for Oscar to say something.

"Alright then."

Ben turns and winks at you before bowing out and making his way back to the house. You watch him go and then turn to Oscar who has moved a little closer. His eyes are looking at you with so much focus, you wonder what he is looking for.

"Do you have any hunting training at all?"

You shake your head.

He purses his lip out and nods once. Oscar turns and walks over to the shed. The door is ajar, he pulls it open the rest of the way and heads inside. You don't know if he wants to follow or not. You stay rooted in spot. Oscar returns moments later with a dagger in his hand.

"This is close as I can get to the weapon that rightfully belongs to you," he says, holding out the sharp dagger.

You stare at it.

"I'm sorry?"

Oscar gives a little chuckle.

"The dagger Daniel found that belongs to you, it's about the same weight and size as this one. Yours is a lot more special than this, and can do a lot more damage, but at least with this you can get used to handling it."

He offers the dagger to you again. Hesitantly, you reach out and grasp it. Oscar moves his hands away as you take it, watching you admire the weapon. You hold it up, swing it around lightly. All the while keeping your eyes locked onto it. You didn't know what you were doing with it.

"Don't be intimidated by it. Be intimidating with it."

You look at Oscar. A smile appears on your face. He smiles back. Oscar turns around and grabs himself a dagger. He stands beside you and shows you how to use it swiftly. You copy his movements, focusing more on footwork than the actual use of the dagger.

You came here to train, but end up laughing with Oscar as you end up basically dancing around in a clumsy manner, interest in training starting to fade. You hadn't been here out too long, an hour maybe, but t was clear you had had enough training for one day. Oscar noticed. The dagger become forgotten about as he guides you through good manoeuvres in combat. You're tripping over your feet a lot, but you're having fun.

Oscar smiles as you laugh.

You nearly fall over at one point. Oscar reaches out and stops you from falling backward. You grab onto him for dear life, and then laugh into his shoulder once you have your footing back.

"I think that's enough fun for now," he chuckles.

You smile and step back.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to train with you again. If we're going to war, I need to be prepared, but thank you for making my first lesson fun."

Oscar smiles brightly.

"You're welcome. Shall I walk with you back to the house?" He asks.

"If you want to."

He nods and quickly puts the daggers away, closing the shed when he comes back out. He walks right beside you as you make your way back to the house. As you leave the training yard, you find yourself wanting to ask him something, but you're afraid he'll shut you down and become distant. This was a sensitive topic as far as you knew.

"You were a hunter once, weren't you?" You ask.

Silence settles heavily between you. You're afraid he's angry and will walk away. He doesn't.

"Yes."

"You don't have to tell me, but... what happened? How did you end up a vampire?"

You cast your eyes on him to find him looking at the ground beneath his feet. He doesn't appear angry, but you can see the furrowing of his eyebrows as he thinks.

"I wasn't brave enough to fight when the time came. My family, and a few other hunting families, were killed by the bastard who wants Mads dead," he looks at you. "I couldn't fight him and as a result, people died. Mads saved me."

Your heart goes out to him.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, his dark curls bouncing lightly from the movement.

"Don't be. It's a result of my own failure, but I'm not unhappy here. I owe Mads a lot. I would die for him before I betray him."

You smile softly.

"I hope not. I rather like you Oscar," you grin, "don't go dying on me before I get the chance to know you."

Oscar grins. You like this expression on him much more than the torment.

"Good. I like you too."

The rest of the walk is in ease. No more conversation, but there doesn't need to be. Oscar stops at the door and you turn to face him.

"I'll leave you to the rest of your afternoon. Come see me anytime you want. Doesn't have to be for training," he tells you, smiling.

"I will. You can count on it."

He likes that answer.

You bid each other farewell and part ways. Oscar heads back out onto the grounds, you head inside. You don't get too far before you bump into someone else.

Anson.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, hello!" You grin at him.

Anson chuckles, giving you a bright smile. His blue eyes seem to sparkle as he does. In his hands is a small bouquet. You stare at the flowers.

Black roses.

You look back at him.

"Black? Do you grow them?" You ask.

"Yes."

"I've never seen black roses before coming here. There was one with my outfit at the dinner," you mention.

"I know. Mads asked me to leave it for you. These are for you too. Thought you might like them in your room," he holds the flowers out to you. You smile as you take them.

"For me? Thank you. You don't have to give me anything though."

"I want to," he smiles.

You smell them. They smell like any other rose, but they're far more special to you.

"Thank you."

"I believe Daniel is looking for you," Anson tells you.

"Oh? Then, could you maybe put these in my room for me? I better go see him."

Anson nods and takes the flowers again.

"I think he was headed to the library. Do you remember how to get there?" He asks.

"I think I can find it. Can I come see your garden again after?" You ask, smiling.

Anson smiles back. "You can see it whenever you like."

"You better be there though."

Anson gives a little bow. "I wouldn't want to to disappoint."

You chuckle and part ways from Anson, now heading for the library.

As you walk, you dwell on your presence here. You were brought here to help fight an enemy you didn't even now about. Yes, you planned to help any way you could, still not understanding how you would be able to help, but also, you wanted to spend time with those around you. This house was full of interesting people, and those you had spent time with so far, you had become quite fond of them already.

What if there was a reason to stay under this roof?

Would you stay here with them? Or would you return to your job, your apartment, your little life before?

Was it too soon to be thinking this way? Probably. Something just felt right about being here though. Maybe, just maybe, you were suppose to be here all along.

@lieutenantn @ntlmundy @alex-the-rainbow @that-one-fandom-kid @mischief-siriusly-managed @madhatter2727 @gabrielapoe-16 @baronesszemo-blackwood @valquiria3000 @wannabevampire @ten-tenya-iida @crackedout @rothko-mirror @niceshadeofblue @my-fic-corner @aluehuskywolf @bdffkierenwalker @nezla @bb-skyrunner @dezzylou24 @meganlpie @casi-eternal @janine-007

#masquerade at midnight #mads mikkelsen x reader #ben barnes x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #tom hiddelston x reader #benedict cumberbatch x reader #jodie whittaker x reader #oscar issac x reader #barry keoghan x reader #lauren ridloff x reader #tom ellis x reader #anson mount x reader #david tennant x reader #michael sheen x reader

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on “Auntie Soka and Little Leia” now that I’ve actually got it posted:

Call it a director’s cut! The process of actually writing the thing, and also jokes made along the way. Link to the actual fic.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy for image descriptions, even the text screenshots. Might come back that later. Most of this was DMs with @atagotiak.

This was an entire thing before I even started writing:

Before I decided on ages and stuff Ahsoka, to Jango, who has had zero contact with Kaminoans: Okay I know I'm a Jedi kid so you hate me but this toddler is your clone from the future. Jango, tired: What the FUCK are you talking about. Rex, barely able to talk: Don't you dare leave me with him, Commander! Ahsoka: I'm not going to leave you I just--I'm so tired I'm so fucking tired I haven't slept in five days and someone tried to kidnap Leia two days ago I am so fucking tired I need help

Ben: [twenty years of depression followed by a 'now I'm safe' breakdown over the course of weeks] Sokari: [whatever the FUCK this mess is]

When Ahsoka mentions there only being three other Jedi at the time of her death, I was thinking Kanan, Yoda, and Obi-Wan (Leia told her about the latter two living past her). She's not counting anyone that received training after the Temple fell, and she didn’t know about Cal.

When Leia says “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

Depa: I'm no therapist but I diagnose you with "incredibly fucked up." Ahsoka: yeah, that’s fair

"Why did you pick Depa for--" She's pretty and I'm gay. Also because of the Kanan thing But mostly I'm gay "It's not a visual medi--" GAY

Empty of context beyond general post-fic AU: "Hey Sokari, we need to engage in psychological warfare against this individual and--" "I'm going to break into his office and leave a threatening note on his desk and leave no other sign that I was there. He'll see that his security is nothing and the only reason he isn't dead is because I'm too nice to kill him." "...okay, not what we were planning, but that works. Why is that your first choice?" "I really like breaking and entering, it's soothing." Ben just standing there with a bland smile like This Is Normal.

"We need someone to infiltrate a highly guarded facility in hostile territory." "So we're sending the Torrent kids?" [sigh] "We're sending the Torrent kids."

Rex and Sokari insist on both going by "Torrent" even though Rex could be a Fett. Jango really wants him to be a Fett. Rex has too many grudges to agree to being a Fett for... a while.

I really hope it's blatantly obvious that Ahsoka's not a reliable narrator for some things Ahsoka: Fett could care less if I died Jango: jfc even if you are older than me I can see you're fucked up. Drink your hot chocolate. Hells. She's got good reason to expect him to hate her as a Jedi! BUT. THAT IS NOT REFLECTIVE OF REALITY

We don’t get a lot of actual characterization for Jango, but the way I played him out here is he has never really parsed that Jedi are people before all this. It's a lot harder to treat them as a monolith when the traumatized former child soldier is having regular breakdowns in your shitty little kitchen

Fett: I respect you Ahsoka: No, don't do that

Ahsoka’s vigilantism is something that, in my mind, she's associating heavily with Zygerria and then the clones.

I figured that she never bothered to learn Quinlan’s teacher’s name but in the process of looking up some basic facts (whether he had a surname), I found that Wookiepedia was forced to give us a VERY wide range of possible death in Legends.

Please take a moment to imagine Quinlan's FACE when Ahsoka initially dismisses him. Quinlan has put a lot of effort into being rogueishly charming! It's very useful for his line of work! He knows to expect either irritation or a return flirtation when he acts like this with people his own age! Ahsoka is not flustered OR rolling her eyes and insulting him, she's just ignoring him and it's a bit of a blow to the ego

This just makes me really happy:

This was the initial comment I made, as a joke What if Maul is just. There. On one of the planets they make a pitstop at. What if Maul exists as the walking problem he is, but fifteen, and Ahsoka immediately tries to kick his ass and drag him back to Coruscant. I do not have room for this plot but What If

Despite not having room for this plot, I proceeded to write this plot.

Maul is kidnapped and it’s the best thing that ever happened to him HE'S FIFTEEN HE'S DUMB AS SHIT AND HAS A BAD ATTITUDE AND YEAH HE'S A DARKSIDER BUT HE'S FIFTEEN

Ahsoka: I sense... Maul [takes off sprinting] Rex: [immediately takes Jango's blaster and runs after her] Jango: Wait who Tholme: Who Quinlan: Who Jango: [looks at Leia] Leia: I don't know who that is either! Ahsoka, already wrestling a teenager to the ground: Oh no, you're a child, REX STUN HIM AND GRAB THE CUFFS, I'M SURE FETT OR THOLME HAS SOME

Fighting him isn't even legal, they have NO evidence of criminal wrongdoing, so first she needs to yell until he admits to something she can fight him about

Ahsoka: When I see Maul, it's on SIGHT Maul: WHO ARE YOU

Ahsoka: The Force didn't give me hands just to NOT throw them when I run into That Crafty Son Of A Bitch

Ben, when they arrive, after the tearful reunion: You... you brought Maul. Ahsoka: Well, yeah, he's fifteen and kinda dumb. I figured we could drag him here and force him into therapy, see what happens. Ben: I can't quite tell through the gag, but I think he's threatening to feed you your own spleen. Ahsoka: Lol, yeah.

Ben is absolutely on team "get Maul therapy" and will fight the Council on rehabilitating the baby Sith But also it's like. Here's your daughter! And your niece! And your daughter's QPP! Also your best friend, but baby, and his teacher, and the biological origin of a number of people you cared for deeply! AND ALSO THE GUY WHO SPENT LITERAL DECADES CRAVING YOUR DEATH, FOR SOME REASON

I just really want Ahsoka lovingly bullying Maul She gives him noogies and the horns don't protect him because girl has reinforced gloves

Maul's only allowed a low-power training saber and his fights with Sokari involve Much Taunting by her and Eventual Screaming by him, and everyone pops by to see: 1. Sokari doing the most absurd flips, for fun. 2. The bullshit that is ataru-shien reverse-grip jar'kai in the hands of someone who makes it work 3. What a Sith lightsaber form looks like 4. Just the general nonsense that is the way these two fight

Tia said “Wrt ridiculous flips. I'm remembering that time she beheaded four Kryst'ad at once.” and I just Rex brings up the quadruple beheading at one point to get someone to stop asking questions and the awkward, horrified silence almost makes him regret it. And then Sokari just snorts and makes a joke about how Rex once speared a slaver point-blank and everyone's just like hello??? "are you two okay" "no"

Maul absolutely starts crushing on Sokari after a 'sword under chin' moment and she's just very "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you're fifteen, bye" GO MAKE PUPPY EYES AT OBI-WAN OR SOMETHING

The crushes are the worst part of everything, really, she's an attractive young woman that can kick a lot of ass, and a lot of people are into that! Unfortunately, most of those people are a decade younger than she is, mentally, because all the people her actual age look at her and see a child on account of the 17yo body.

It’s almost a good thing she’s in no place mentally for a relationship.

I just want Ahsoka to wear beskar.... I think that would be Nice........

This AU is also what caused this post.

I'm deeply enamored by the idea that Ahsoka can win fights against "older" padawans pretty much unilaterally, even when they team up 2v1 And then she offers to fight 5v1 "But only if I have permission to fight dirty." Ben approves it, a horror show full of "I fought many wars and will scream in your face or kick you in the balls if that's what it takes" follows She wins. There are no permanent injuries, but her reputation certainly gets weirder. Nobody under the rank of Knight agrees to let her fight dirty again. She just lets that stand because, well, she's not actually a padawan, she's thirty-three.

I’m not going to write this but my brain was EVIL and suggested it:

IT WOULD BE REALLY SAD IDK maybe 9yo Anakin has nightmares about what's happening to baby Ahsoka because bullshit about time-traveling force bonds IDK ANYWAY he cries to Sokari about the nightmares and she's like "oh shit" and it's time to go rescue herself from motherfucker unlimited

It's either that or she's like, expecting to welcome mini-me aaaany day now, for like, several months, before she realizes Something Went Wrong. Anakin’s dreams could even start right as she’s starting to realize something’s off.

Obi-Wan has never had a padawan that doesn't at some point bite Even Luke will, when pushed

OH also once the twins get Baby's First Lightsaber (training sabers, not real kyber), Sokari begs to borrow them for a dumb joke and tells Rex to get on her shoulders for a "Grievous Greeting" and they do The Thing

Jango and Ahsoka wrt Quinlan is just “Do I need to beat him up for you” “You realize I’ve beaten up sith lords before?”

JANGO'S TRYING He's just. "Can we be friends? Can I--can I be the guy that just noticeably gets in the way of a creep on the subway so you can be more comfortable without someone making a scene? I'm fucking trying here, give me a hint."

We didn’t actually figure out Jango’s age until this point. The only reason Fett's age matters is for Quinlan making a Wild Oats quip after Jango says he didn't know about Rex until a few weeks ago, and Fett going "How old do you think I am? And how old do you think the kid is?" and Quinlan getting Very Awkward as he does the math. Rex overhears and lets Quinlan sweat for a bit before saying "I'm a genetically-modified clone someone grew in a tube, he didn't know or have reason to know until he saw me with Sokari." Which is like. Eight additional layers of WTF, obviously, but at least Jango gets to avoid awkward wild oats jokes

Like, you’d expect the rebuttal to be ‘he’s my brother just with a biiig age gap’ or ‘he’s my nephew’

I find it very unfortunate for Quinlan that I've decided his defining characteristic in this context is going to be repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth

He’s trying so hard but "That sounds like a cool thing, maybe I'll ask ab--and it's another fucking trauma."

I'm doing Ahsoka&Jango t w i c e (there’s another fic where I’m doing it)

It’s just a fun dynamic! So much resentful respect.

Like she's twenty seconds away from calling him a bitch at any given time and he's just there like "I don't like you but I do see you move like you're about to tell an entire building to get on their knees with their hands in the air and I can respect that" Also she's probably much less judgmental about using blasters than Obi-Wan is The Maul subplot actually started with me daydreaming about Ahsoka grabbing a blaster for Reasons

I like the idea of Jango just deciding the most Useful thing he can do is help teach the Smol how to fight. He's AWKWARD around Rex and Soka because he doesn't know if there's anything he CAN teach them.

I didn’t actually plan for Tholme to figure out the age thing, he just SAID it and I had to sit there like Wait.

Ahsoka, Rex & Leia: ahhh, children Tholme: you say that like you aren’t children

I liked getting to write Rex's little "I have worked with all of them, and they're all Terrible" He loves them But They once got stranded on a planet that didn’t exist and Ahsoka died and Anakin killed a god.

There was research and discussion as to whether Ahsoka could win against Tholme but seeing as she held her own against Vader, and fought Grievous at that physical age without dying, etc.... yeah, the only thing holding her back was her body not being what she was used to, and she’s had a few weeks go adjust.

“I miss being able to just jump off skyscrapers” is such a jedi thing

Jango: I'll take the gun back if he tries to leave, they can't get far before--WHAT THE FUCK He knows Jedi are scary but he’s still not really used to just how over the top ridiculous they are He knows how to deal with Jedi in battle, not Whatever The Fuck These People Are Doing

Rex isn't even a Jedi, he's just so used to working with them. “Oh yes time for free-falling without a parachute again, same shit as always.”

Tia: I’m imagining Jango freaking out and Quinlan and Tholme being like. Concerned but mostly exasperated Clearly if they’re jumping off buildings it must be serious? But jfc they could’ve maybe communicated a bit more?

Leia: I want to finish my juice Tholme: Quin, stay with her while we go figure out what those two are doing. Quinlan: Wait what

Jango: Oh now he’s jumping off a building too??? Tholme: Sokari, you are not registered! You can't legally jump out windows yet! Jango: What the hell is going on? Is this normal?

We don’t necessarily know how often Ahsoka and Maul ran into each other after Mandalore. There was the later thing on Malachor, but other than that I'm just going with the idea that they ran into each other every year or two and just went for the eyes like feral cats

Ahsoka: I need to kick ass and you're coming with me. Rex: Yeah, okay. [several minutes later] Rex: Whose ass are we kicking?

Ahsoka and Rex

Neloms aren’t a SW fruit to the best of my knowledge, I just wanted to mess around with lemons/melons

Jango: you didn’t think any of this through, did you? Rex: you were there, you know we didn’t "When the Jedi says to jump out a window, I jump out a window."

Tholme’s real composed about stalking the ancient nigh-mythical enemy of his people, very “Life is already so goddamn weird”

This fic has been so heavy on the trauma but then I introduce Maul and suddenly it's the worst kind of comedy Nobody is competent, everyone's a little dumb, the bad guy is just grocery shopping

My propensity for banter has turned this into a six-person buddy cop comedy about Maul buying grapes They spend a significant amount to time ineffectually stalking Maul before Quin suggests the sensible option Quinlan just "You remember this is my literal job and specialty right"

Ahsoka sees Maul and all her brain cells go out the window except "Fight good" Usually she doesn’t need to worry about doing things legally. Maybe she needs to worry about someone seeing her do illegal things but she spent the past 15 yrs in a place where her existing was illegal

I feel like he’s also maybe kinda wanting to reassert that yes he is competent. Bc like. Ahsoka’s been kinda condescending this whole time and also can beat everyone up so. It's not his fault that he's actually the youngest person there, but.

Jango is finding this whole being friendly to Jedi thing a lot more overwhelming than he thought it would be. And overwhelming in different ways.

Maul usually signifies things getting worse and more horrifyingly tragic but he's just a dumb teen that they needed to arrest for his own good.

Quinlan: Look, I'm useful! Ahsoka: I've been through hell, wanna hear? Quinlan: NO. I DON'T. WHY.

Quinlan: I understand the concept of joking about your traumas, I do it sometimes myself! But sith hells that’s a lot of trauma.

Quinlan just wanted her to treat him as a Competent Individual, and here she is whipping out stories about Dying and Gods and the Force insists it's the truth and he just???? And apparently emo darksider over there is a Sith. And just, sure. Why not

A lot of people’s interactions with the time travelling disaster lineage is just

Tholme and Fett arguing and Ahsoka's just waiting for a moment to pop in with "Hey, when's the last time either of you worked with the other's culture before this mess? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Much like Leia and Ahsoka hurting each other earlier, and Tholme figuring out the de-aging, we ALSO have Fett’s confrontation with Ahsoka being something the characters just did, rather than something I planned.

FTR the only time I managed to trigger myself while writing this fic was the “your behavior isn’t actually acceptable and we’ve all been trying really hard to give you room to recover but you have to at least make an effort to not be a bitch”

Writing about people having PTSD and symptoms of such: Yay! Writing about people having PTSD and engaging in toxic behavior to cope: Shit Ahsoka had... basically my exact reaction. It's "remind yourself that you're in the wrong, that they have a point, and then be overly formal in the apology because fuck if you accidentally make them feel sorry for you when they're the injured party"

Quinlan: Can we be friends? I mean, you're an asshole, but you're really cool. Let's be friends. (He MIGHT be nursing a crush) (Neat mysterious girl who can beat him up.)

Also he realises she's probably nicer when not having a slow-motion breakdown He's like "Huh, you'll probably be less of an asshole once you've gotten therapy."

...also, she pretty and got Nice Biceps

I love writing a good mental breakdown

I was so close to including a "he tried to kill me" just early enough for Jango to wildly misinterpret as her thinking Quinlan tried to kill her. He'd have been very confused, considering Quinlan's the one that called them down in a panic and currently has Ahsoka having her massive breakdown in his lap But

Tia: I could see Jango interpreting it as idk, Quin resembling someone or for a moment acting like someone who tried to kill her and she had a flashback or something like that

There's absolutely room for a couple reasonable interpretations there And "trapped in a flashback about someone who tried to kill her" is absolutely what's happening! Just. You know. For a different reason. Jango probably wouldn’t assume Quin would hurt her, for one thing he seems to like her, for another even if he did he’s smart enough to pick a way that wouldn’t be so likely to get him caught

I had to step back and actually say “Also I'm just. Wow. I'm really just shoveling QPP Rex&Ahsoka at full speed”

Me, a few weeks ago, joking: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist Me, now, entirely seriously: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Me, belatedly: Oh, Ahsoka being joyfully mean to people was a form of mania she was unconsciously using to build a barrier between herself and her impending meltdown

She went from "just died" to "in charge of Rex and Leia" in like. Two minutes.

Confession: I've been delighting in the mental image of this whole Mess leading Jango to try to retake Mandalore, and Ahsoka loans him a saber for a 1v1 to get the darksaber.

“Can’t I just fight him barehanded? That’s how I did it on Galidraan.” "But the drama, Fett!"

Probably Rex has learned how to use a saber as well, because you never know when you have to borrow a weapon

I later changed my mind to Jango asking her to help, rather than her just sneak-teaching him, but it was funny.

Background nonsense to all this is Ahsoka and Rex, despite Rex being as force-sensitive as a lump of coal, having developed a process where she can extend her sensitivity to him mind-to-mind for weird symbiotic battle trance that scares everyone around them. It’s very similar to Battle meditation.

CONTEXT FOR LEIA BEING WORRIED ABOUT THOLME HIDING THINGS: Tholme is hiding the fact that the Council reached out and told him that the people he picked up might be connected to Ben and Luke, who showed up after the Depa thing but a solid week and change before Jango's ship makes it to the Temple. They asked that he not share that information to avoid getting anyone's hopes up in case the two situations aren't related. Ben and Luke haven't shared enough information for anyone to really be sure if the other three are connected Because the info Tholme has isn't quite the info Jango has, etc. And they can't just say Ben is a future Obi-Wan over comms

I just have a lot of feelings about people trying to do something right and just. Nobody's at fault! Not really! It's just complicated!

Tia: I like how when Ahsoka isn’t doing maladaptive trauma response stuff she’s very mature. And of course she’s had to be but it’s a good like, contrast. Where when she slows down to think about things she’s very sensible

Jango just spends most of this story lowkey wanting Ahsoka to Be His Friend but there's too much baggage that he's only metaphysically responsible for

Local aroace(?) has a squish

Ahsoka: He just wants to get on my good side because of Rex. Jango: I'm pretty sure you could kill an entire army without trying but you wouldn't because you have actual morals and stuff... and when I met you it was because you were killing yourself trying to keep (what appeared to be) children safe... you seem cool please be my friend.......

Ahsoka’s #1 weakness: mountains of trauma Ahsoka’s #2 weakness: she just doesn’t get why so many people think she’s cool and want her to be their (girl)friend

Jango, a 27yo massacre survivor who's killed Jedi masters with his bare hands: [gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly]

Ahsoka was raised in a religious meritocracy but developed all her opinions during a galactic war and then became a vigilante spy, Rex comes from a military cult, Leia is from an inherited monarchy that participates in democracy, Quinlan was originally from what appears to be a dynastic dictatorship, and IDK about Tholme other than that he is also from the religious meritocracy. And in legends Quinlan came to the religious meritocracy after his aunt sacrificed his parents to a vampire cult and then forced him to experience the psychometric echoes of that. There's just. A lot going on.

Leia at least has knowledge about structure and admin in theory that isn't based in either the military or populations under 10k

Jango: I want to be your friend. Ahsoka: Sounds fake.

I am unfairly fond of "Rex destroys a conversation by bringing up his own horrifying childhood and calling it a cult"

"Why does Sokari call you 'Rex'ika'?" "Because she's older than me." "...can I--?" "No."

Nickname privileges are extended ONLY to Ahsoka and older clones. There are no more older clones, so it's just Ahsoka.

Me joking about Star Wars AUs: Would you like a crackship? Me writing actual Star Wars fic: My favorite character type is apparently “too traumatized to have a relationship” so this is at least 90% gen.

I had to pull a scene opening at one point because Ahsoka's skill with not getting shot is actually much less useful than Tholme's clearance levels.

Now I really want a team-up of Ahsoka, Rex, and Jango where they do have to get in a dogfight of the "she flies, we shoot" variety and Fett just has to scream because the speeder thing to catch Maul was one thing, but this....

Ahsoka, before TCW: I know all the traffic rules but I'm not that great at flying! Ahsoka, after TCW: I'm great at flying but if you let me behind the wheel we are absolutely getting arrested.

She went from "knows the rules but doesn't have the skills" to "has the skills but primarily in the form of not getting shot" which! Is delightful! "Bet I can get us through that alley--" "DO NOT"

Jango and Ahsoka are both just very "Is this friendship? Is this camaraderie? My heart's been fried on platonic love by so many murders that I'm not sure anymore." "I've lost a lot of friends. I kind of forgot how to make those."

I have no idea if "hasn't been closer than Alderaan except that one trip to Chandrila" is canon-compliant but ehhhhhhhh It feels plausible enough?

Belatedly realized that I could just explain my optimal Rex&Ahsoka dynamic as just... drift compatible. It's vague enough on the specifics while still digging into the meat of what they mean to each other and how they work together. The terminology is already in existence. I can just use it.

Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Doesn't matter! They're drift compatible.

They are important to each other and that is what matters

I really like the Leia&Quinlan thing. He's just like "This small child needs a friend that isn't super depressed," and decided he's going to be her friend. I keep trying to toss in "Quinlan volunteers to 'baby'sit." She's not much older and she has a Baby Brain, it works out

There's a running bet as to whether Leia will leave the Order the second she turns thirteen, or if she'll let Sokari "train" her for a few years first. And... that’s how I came up with Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno.

They'll be bullshitting Ben as her new master to "finish out the padawanship" since they can't tell everyone she's really in her thirties and he's conveniently there and already knows everything and was half her master anyway. Like Ben was planning on taking on Luke, but Luke is "six" and even he can't swing that as old enough to be a Padawan, and it's not like Sokari will take more than a handful of years to justify knighthood, sooooooooo

#Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Leia Organa #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Phoenix Babbles #Uncle Ben and Little Luke #Auntie Soka and Little Leia #I need to excise the bits that are actually funny on their own

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breanime · 3 years

Text

Intentions

Okay, here’s my shot at a Tommy Shelby fic... Let me know what you think, please!

Prompt: “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

You weren’t entirely sure what possessed Tommy Shelby—the Tommy Shelby—to assist you, but you decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just appreciate it. Ever since he’d overheard you telling Ada about the men who harassed you on the streets, Tommy had taken it upon himself to make sure you always had an escort home.

And for the last five days, that escort had been him.

“Really, Mr. Shelby—” you began, holding your purse in front of you as Tommy locked up the office.

“—Tommy,” he corrected you, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Tommy,” you repeated, “you don’t have to keep doing this, really. I can just walk.”

“You live 45 minutes from the office,” he said back, “and that’s not counting having to stop for fucking protests or some pieces of shite trying to pick you up. Then it’s around 56 minutes if it’s raining or snowing,” he went on, “More if it’s doing both at once,” he led you to his car, opening the door for you, “You work hard; you ought to have your boss make sure you get home safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your growing smile in check. Tommy had no way of knowing that—the time it took for you to get home—unless he walked the walk himself. “Well,” you said, climbing into the car, “I really do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well just appreciate it quietly, eh? Don’t need the other girls thinkin’ they can get a free ride out of me,” he glanced at you, giving you a small smile that made your heart flip in your chest. You watched as he started the car, and he turned to you, “Why do you stay in that neighborhood, anyway?” He asked you. “It’s so far from town, the buildings are old, the landlords are pricks…”

“It’s the only neighborhood that houses Blacks,” you answered, “Or at least it’s the only one that houses us at an affordable price.”

“Hm,” he nodded, looking ahead as he drove, the smoke from his cigarette billowing from his lips, “Am I paying you that poorly?”

You laughed, and you didn’t miss the way his lips twitched upwards as you did. “You pay me well above the usual rate. I’m just saving it up, is all. I can’t have you driving me around forever, Mr. Shelby—”

“—Tommy,” he corrected you.

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle, “Tommy,” you amended yourself.

“I don’t mind it, you know,” he said, turning the wheel, “driving you. These last few days, it’s been… nice,” he paused, “I don’t get a lot of time for good company or conversation on me own.”

“Oh, so I’m good company, am I?” You said with a grin.

Tommy turned to you, those diamond blue eyes staring right into your soul, “You’re a smart girl,” he replied, “Loyal, Trustworthy. Hard working. And you’re bloody gorgeous so. Yes. You make for good company.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and your eyes darted down to your lap. You’d heard that Tommy Shelby was a charmer, and that he’d had pretty much every woman who’s worked for him—minus his aunt and his sister-in-law, of course—but you’d never seen him so… forward.

You liked it.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” He asked casually, as if he was asking about the weather.

“No,” you answered, looking over at him, “You make for good company too.”

He gave a wry smile then. “Fishin’ for a raise, eh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Either I’m loyal and trustworthy, or I’m bootlicker. Which is it, Tommy?”

He laughed, and the sound made you warm all over. Tommy didn’t laugh nearly as often as he should. “Fair enough,” he nodded, “You’re not a bootlicker, that’s for sure,” he glanced over at you again, “I haven’t figured out what it is you are yet…”

“I’m a girl who isn’t gonna let you fuck her just cause you’ve given me a few rides,” you said back, speaking before you could stop yourself.

He raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Is that what you think is going on here?” He asked. “My driving you home from work? You think I’m doing this for sex?”

You licked your lips, nervous now. “Well, I mean no offense, Mr.—Tommy—but I’ve worked for you for three months now, and I think I know you well enough to know that you never do anything for nothing.”

Tommy smirked. “That’s true,” he stopped the car, letting a mother and her kids pass in front, and looked at you, his eyes staring into yours brazenly, “So, let’s have it. Give me your theories,” he started the car again, glancing back at you as he spoke, “Why, then, do you think that I do this?”

You paused. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Maybe he didn’t want to sleep with you. Just because he called you gorgeous, didn’t mean he wanted to fuck you, after all. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said—although Tommy always meant what he said. Maybe, though, he really was just concerned about your wellbeing. A woman walking home alone at night could be vulnerable to all kinds of dangers, and given the amount of enemies the Shelbys had… You looked over at Tommy. “You do this for everyone,” you surmised.

Tommy turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

Again, you paused. “Yes?”

“Well, I don’t,” he said back, “I’ve never driven any of the girls home—except for Lizzie, but that’s only because I fucked her,” he went on, blunt as ever, “This takes up a portion of my time, and I’m not a man who has a lot of time to waste,” he looked over at you, “I like being around you,” he confessed, “I like the way you talk. I like the way you think, and when I think of you alone at night… I can’t sleep. I can never sleep, but still…” He took his cigarette and tossed it, giving a humorless chuckle. “You make me ramble,” he went on, shrugging one shoulder, “I don’t ramble, least not since France...” He paused for a moment. “When I’m busy, and one of the lads takes you home instead, it ruins me night. It irritates me that I missed out on that time with you, and that another man got it instead,” he glanced at you again, “Is that alright to say?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I prefer it when you drive me,” you admitted, “Not that the others aren’t nice and all—they are—but… I do like this time with you, being alone with you…”

Tommy looked at you, his sky-blue eyes staring into yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Wordlessly, he pulled the car over, turning to face you fully. “Tomorrow is Friday,” he said, and you blinked, confused as to why he was telling you something you already knew, “Pay day. I’d like to take you out to dinner. Maybe see a picture after. Would that be alright?”

You felt your lips spread out in a smile, and Tommy smiled back, chuckling a bit at the excitement in your eyes. “Yes,” you answered, “yes, that’d be alright.”

“But I want to be honest with you,” he went on, “I respect you as an employee, and you’ve been a good friend to me these past months, and regardless of what happens tomorrow night, I will still make sure you have a safe way home after work,” he leaned forward a bit, his voice low and deep, “but I want it known that I very much do want to fuck you.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you had to remind yourself that you were a lady, not a whore…no matter how much Tommy Shelby’s glimmering eyes and sharp jawline made you want to be… Biting your lip, you smiled at him, “I’m not going to open my legs for you on the first date, Tommy.”

He laughed, taking out another cigarette and lighting it, the flame reflecting in his ocean-colored eyes. “Mm, we’ll see,” he murmured, “So it’s a date then?”

“It’s a date.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly—too quickly for your taste. The two of you discussed work and your families and what movie you’d like to see, and before you knew it, he was parked outside of your building.

He opened the door for you and walked you to the front door like a gentleman. And you thanked him—

—with a kiss.

If the kiss took him by surprise, Tommy didn’t show it. As soon as your lips touched his, his arm was wrapped around you, keeping you close. The kiss was soft, but firm, and Tommy’s slender body felt magnificent against yours. You wondered, at the back of your mind, what your neighbors would think, seeing you necking with Tommy fucking Shelby of the Peaky fucking Blinders, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about what the gossips may say.

You were too busy trying to keep yourself from floating off in a haze of bliss.

You pulled back first, and Tommy let you. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. “I’m not letting you up, Tommy.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” you smirked, making him laugh.

“I’m a patient man,” he said back, taking a step back, “I can wait until tomorrow.”

You laughed at that, but the truth was, you were quite certain that tomorrow night, when Tommy pulled up in front of your apartment, he wouldn’t be driving off until the sun rose.

In fact, you were counting on it.

You watched him drive off from your window, a sigh escaping from deep in your chest, the taste of him—mint and smoke and a hint of whiskey—fresh on your lips. Tommy fucking Shelby…

…what had you gotten yourself into?

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! You guys know how I get when I write a new character; I always think it’s shit. So if it is, tell me! And if it’s not, tell me why, please! Should I write for him again, or nah? Cause I kind of have an idea for a Part 2, but IDK if anyone would be interested.

And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip here, I would greatly appreciate it!

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @mrsjaxtellerfan @rhabakoli @encounterthepast @realduckvader @justvnash @knowles-morgan @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19 @nyxxnoxx @carlaangel86 @luminex3 @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart @lexxierave @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams @a-dorky-book-keeper @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @fvckthisbxtchup @ben-c-group-therapy @felicity-x0 @amirra88 @yourfellowangel @vibranium-soul @xserenax-13 @woahitslucyylu @gemini0410 @ktiz90 @theoceanhathsolace @starrynite7114 @my-rosegold-soul @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @abbiesthings @peaches007 @ifoundmyhappythought @tegggeeee @bisexual-space-slut @mariaenchanted @thesandbeneathmytoes @sheeshgivemeabreak @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @venusis-inretrograde @shaelivia @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @yourwonkywriter @fear-less-write-more

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x black reader #black reader fic #tommy shelby imagine

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Stupid Game (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister imagine)

If you've read Someone I Used to Know by Patty Blount, you'll understand where I drew the inspiration from. Warning: includes sexual harassment and threats of sexual assault.

Fifteen days. Fifteen days left of this stupid and terrifying game. You could get through fifteen more days of their stupid game, after all, you were already halfway through. But, seeing as it was halfway done, they'd start to get more desperate. You needed something on you, anything. Pepperspray, mace, a knife, a razor blade--

"Y/N," you were snapped out of your thoughts by your brother, Jay, saying your name. "What are you doing up? I thought you had online first block today?" he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard.

"I do," you answered, stirring the peanut butter into your oatmeal once more. "Just wanted to get up and get some math homework done," you lied.

"You didn't do it last night?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he sat down across from you.

"I know, I should've done it. But I was frustrated that I couldn't figure it out and figured maybe looking at it in the morning with fresh eyes would help."

"Fair enough."

"You're not mad I procrastinated?" That was one thing both he and Will agreed on when it came to you and school: procrastinating and not getting your assignments done was unacceptable. They said they didn't care about grades as long as you didn't fail-- and you weren't, you were getting all A's and B's-- but they did care about you trying your absolute best.

Jay shook his head. "No, sounds like you got it all figured out." He looked at his watch. "I gotta go. I'm gonna be late. See you when I get home."

Jay stood up and put his bowl and mug into the dishwasher. "Will you be home for dinner?" you asked...which was really code for if he was going to cook or if you were fending for yourself.

"I don't know. We don't have an ongoing case, so depends on today's case." You opened your mouth to ask if you could order takeout when he stopped you. "And, yes, you can get takeout. I just expect the receipt and change."

"I know, I know. Now, go save Chicago," you said, shooing him out the door.

"It's a team effort," he replied.

"Yeah, yeah. Say hi to Hailey for me."

"Will do!" he yelled to you over his shoulder.

You waited another five minutes until you knew that Jay wasn't coming back before starting your mission. You went into Jay's room and opened his closet. After peering at all the shelves, you had almost given up, when a piece of cardboard on the top shelf caught your eye.

"Gonna need a chair for this," you mumbled and then made your way back into the kitchen and dragged a chair into Jay's room.

After moving a few things, you pulled the box down and set it on the floor. "What are you hiding in here, Jay?" you asked yourself, having never seen this box. You knew it was Jay's though because J. Halstead was written on the side in black permanent marker.

Slowly, you opened the box, as if scared something was going to jump out at you or Jay was miraculously going to appear and tell you not to open it. But, neither of those two things happened.

"Holy shit," you muttered as you opened the box. You thought this stuff was stored away in a storage locker, but it was here all along.

Inside the box was Jay's military uniform, all folded up, along with his dog tags and a few pictures from his time overseas. You felt like you were looking at one of Jay's most intimate secrets, just by looking at this stuff. You wondered who in those pictures came home and who didn't. There was also a small leather journal, and tied to the side of it was a knife.

You picked up the journal and untied the knife from it. You'd be lying if you said that opening the journal and reading it hadn't crossed your mind. But, you viewed your brother as a war hero, and if there was anything in there that would change that view, you didn't want to know. You also knew he had seen some horrific things over there, not that he had ever given you any specific details on the missions, you just knew because of how hard some cases hit him, especially kid cases.

So, you placed everything back into the box just like you found it and put it back on the shelf. Except for the knife, that you kept.

It felt heavy in your hands. The red handle was faded, probably from all the sand that had rubbed against it overseas. You ran a finger over the blade, a little dull from not being sharpened in all these years.

You jumped as your phone alarm went off, alerting you that you had half an hour before you had to leave. You turned it off and placed the knife in your pocket. Then, you dragged the chair back to the kitchen and continued to get ready for school, the extra protection you now had would make you feel more protected for these next fifteen days, that you were sure of.

With the knife safely placed in your backpack half an hour later, you headed off to school.

***

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his phone. Your school was calling him, which was odd. The only reason he thought that they'd be calling was that you didn't show up, you weren't a troublemaker like he was when he was in high school. The stakes were higher now, so you couldn't afford to mess up.

"Sarge, I gotta take this. It's Y/N's school," he said and then proceeded to walk to an interrogation room for some privacy in case the call was serious.

"Jay Halstead," Jay said as he answered.

"Mr. Halstead this is Ben White, principal of Central Chicago High School. I have Y/N in my office right now and I would appreciate it if you could come down here."

"Is she in trouble?" Jay asked, knowing if it were anything other than that, he would have told him.

There was a pause on the other end of the line as the principal tried to figure out what to say. "Somewhat. I'll explain more in person."

"Okay, thank you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

He hung up the phone and exited the interrogation room and went back into the bullpen to grab his keys and coat.

"Everything okay?" Voight asked.

"Not really. Y/N got in trouble at school, so I gotta go talk to her principal."

"What'd she do?" Kevin asked.

"Don't know yet, said he'll explain when I get there."

"Just don't be too hard on her. She's a good kid, Jay."

"I know, which is why I'm shocked that she's in trouble at all."

Hailey placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay."

***

When Jay walked into the principal's office, it was just like he remembered it from when he was in trouble in high school. Most of his were for a few fistfights at lunch or just not doing his homework. Hell, when he looked at you, you were in the same position he was always in whenever your guys' mom or dad had to come to pick him up: hands in your lap, head down, and eyes trained on the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Mr. Halstead, take a seat," Mr. White motioned for him to sit in the other empty seat facing his desk.

"Please, call me Jay. Mr. Halstead's my father. Now, what's this about?" he asked, looking between you and the principal to see which one of you would be the one to tell him.

"Well, as you know we have a very strict no-weapons policy at the school. And, well, your sister, this fell out of her locker."

At this, you looked up, wanting to gauge Jay's reaction. Something flashed across his eyes for a moment, and then anger took over a few seconds later. "A knife? Really? And my Ranger's knife at that?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. But, you couldn't tell him what was going on. After all, it's not like the school would do anything about it, which wasn't for lack of trying because oh people had tried alright.

Jay took a deep breath, not wanting to blow up at you in front of anyone. "Why do you even have it?"

When you didn't answer him, he turned to your principal. "She said that she was snooping through your stuff, and she found the knife, thought it was cool, and wanted to show it to her friends."

Now, snooping, Jay could see. But showing a knife to your friends? Even having a remote interest in any type of weapon? Well, that just wasn't you and you both knew that. But, he knew you wouldn't tell him the real reason unless you were alone, even then it was a long shot.

"I see," Jay nodded. "Let's not beat around the bush here. What kind of trouble is she in?"

"Well, typically we have to call the cops on this type of stuff, but I figured since you were a cop, that this would do. Typically, there's also a three to five day suspension that comes with these things, but seeing everything she's gone through in the past years and that she has outstanding grades and never has even had a detention, I'm going to let her off with a warning. She just has to go home for the rest of the day," Mr. White answered.

"And this won't be on her record?" Jay asked.

"This won't be on her record," Mr. White confirmed.

"What do you say, Y/N?" Jay asked.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, looking up once again.

"And?"

"And it won't happen again." Jay cleared his throat, telling you that you forgot something. "Sir," you added quickly.

It was always something your dad had taught Jay and Will when they got in trouble, that they had to use either sir or ma'am in the apology. Up until today, you never had to use it, but here you were. There's a first time for everything.

"I'm sure it won't," Mr. White said.

"I'm gonna go get my stuff," you said to Jay before leaving the principal's office.

Jay rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Then, he turned back to Ben White. "I'm really sorry about this. I don't know why she'd do anything like this. This isn't like her--"

"Jay, she's been through a lot," he sympathized. "She's probably just acting out. Every teenager goes through that. We both know you did."

Mr. White was a young teacher back when Jay and Will were in high school, and he got to see some of Jay's fights first hand. He even had to rip him off a kid once in the cafeteria.

"Hey, they were always for good reasons...And, I always won."

"Now that you're not a student anymore, I can agree with that statement." He heard the door to the main office open. "Just, don't be too hard on her, okay?"

Jay nodded and stood up and left the office. Now he had to deal with his sister and try to figure out what was actually the real cause of this.

***

You started to run up the stairs but were stopped quickly by Jay's stern voice. "No, come back down here. We're going to talk about this."

You sighed, knowing you were going to be in deep shit from him since you got nothing from the school. You handed him your phone, but surprisingly, he handed it back to you.

"I get to keep my phone?"

"You do, but that's only because I'm letting you drive to and from school and that's it. You go to school and you come straight home. No stopping for coffee, donuts, fries, nothing. I need you to have your phone on you in case you get in an accident." You nodded, knowing his logic was sound.

"How long?"

"Three weeks."

"Jay! But homecoming's in two and a half! And I'm going dress shopping with Emma this weekend!"

"Should've thought of that before you brought a knife to school, my military knife at that. Why were you looking through my stuff anyway?"

"Just curious, I guess." It was a lie and you both knew it.

"That's not the truth. What's going on? Come on, you know you can tell me."

Not this I can't. But, you didn't say that. "That is the truth, Jay. Now, how am I going to get my homecoming dress?"

"You don't need a dress if you're not going to the dance."

"You can't keep this from me--"

"Yes, yes I can. If it was detention for tardies or a failed test or hell, even a fight, this wouldn't be happening. But you brought a knife to school. Not only is that against school rules, but it's against the law. What you did was illegal, Y/N."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it this time, not with this. But, if you want to get a dress and go to the dance, maybe doing some extra chores can get you that."

"So, I don't have to tell Emma I can't come this weekend?" you asked, hopefully.

"Not what I said. You still can't go with Emma. If you earn back that privilege, Hailey can take you."

"But, Jay--"

"No buts. I put the offer on the table and I can just as easily take it off."

"Uh, fine."

"Now, I know you have classwork from the classes you missed today, so get to it. And, don't think I won't be telling Will about this."

***

You jolted awake from your sleep. Must've just been a nightmare, you thought. A really loud nightmare.

"You bastard!" you heard Jay yell.

Okay, so not a nightmare.

"Get away from him!"

Him? Who else was in the house besides you and Jay?

If it was serious, you knew Jay would have come to wake you up to get you out of the house or yelled your name by now. Slowly, you stood up and grabbed your phone. Then, you exited your room and walked across the hall to Jay's.

You heard more yelling and tossing and turning as you stood outside his door. After taking a deep breath, you slowly turned the knob and walked into his room.

When you saw the way Jay looked, you instantly knew what this was. "Let him go and no one gets hurt!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Jay turned towards you as if he had heard a noise in his nightmare which caused him to abruptly turn. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids and his face was dripping sweat.

Luckily, he started to calm down. His breathing started to slow and he hadn't yelled for over a minute.

"Jay," you whispered, taking a step closer to him. "Jay. Jay Halstead," you repeated, this time a little louder.

Nothing. You took a risk and touched his shoulder. "Bastard!" he yelled, throwing a punch which caused you to jump back, his fist narrowly missing your face.

Now it was his as well as your breathing that was coming out jagged.

You couldn't wake him up. You couldn't risk touching him again.

Jay yelled out again, causing you to jump and run out of his room.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the familiar number, hoping that he hadn't gotten called into work.

"Hmmm, hello?" your oldest brother's voice came through your phone, thick with sleep.

"Will, I need you. Please come over."

"Y/N? What's wrong?" He immediately sat up in bed upon hearing the worry in your voice.

"Jay's he's having a nightmare and I can't wake him up and--"

Yelling could be heard in the background and Will cut you off. "Is that him?"

"Yeah." The next part, you said quieter. You knew it wasn't Jay's fault this was happening, but it didn't make your feelings any less valid. "Will, I'm scared."

You heard a door close on Will's end. "It's okay. I don't think he's ever sleep-walked from a nightmare. Just, whatever you do, do not touch him. Understand?"

"Yes." More screaming. "Please, just hurry."

You don't know how you got through those fifteen minutes without completely breaking down. And, in those fifteen minutes, it had gone from yelling to hearing a few things slam to the ground. You assumed it was just things on Jay's bedside table, like his alarm clock, water bottle, and phone that had fallen from him trying to throw punches every which way, but you were too scared to check. What if he was up and standing and could throw things at you? You couldn't do that.

The sight Will saw when he unlocked the door and walked into the house completely broke his heart. You were sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with your feet tucked under you, and silent tears were streaming down your face. If Will hadn't known any better, he would have thought you were making yourself as small as possible as if to disappear.

Will knelt down in front of you so that he was at eye level with you. "Hey, has it gotten worse?" You didn't look at him and that was all the confirmation Will needed.

You let out a deep shaky sob, finally feeling like it was safe for you to make noise again. Will took that opportunity to envelop you in a hug. "It's okay. It's okay. He can't hurt you. It's not him that's doing this. He doesn't know he's home."

"I know he thinks he's in Afghanistan, but he, Will, he almost, if I didn't..." you trailed off, not knowing how to tell your brother that Jay had almost hit you.

"What did he almost do, Y/N? You know he'll want all the details when he wakes up, so just tell me. I promise I won't be mad at him."

You took a deep breath. "He almost hit me, Will. I touched his shoulder and he just swung and--"

"Did I or did I not tell you not to touch him?"

"This was before I called you."

There was another crash and you whimpered. Will gave you one last squeeze and stood up. "Whatever you do, do not follow me, Y/N. I don't want you to see this."

You nodded and tugged your blanket tighter around you as if that was even possible.

The ice was melting in Will's hands as he walked towards Jay's bedroom. He could hear yelling, well, they were more like loud sobs at this point. The floor next to his bed was covered in things that fell from his bedside table: his alarm clock, water bottle, phone, the lamp...which luckily hadn't been on and the bulb hadn't broken.

"Now or never," Will muttered to himself as he stepped towards his younger brother. Then, he flung the ice out in front of him, causing it to land on Jay, and jumped back as fast as possible.

"You bastard! Fuck!" Jay's eyes shot open, drinking in his surroundings.

"Jay," Will said, quietly alerting his brother of his presence before placing his hand on his shoulder. "You're home, in Chicago, you're safe." Noticing that Jay's breathing hadn't yet slowed, Will overexaggerated his inhales and exhales. "Breathe with me. In...Out...In...Out...Good..." And so they continued that until Jay no longer needed Will to guide him through his breathing.

"What happened?" he asked, looking to where his things were strewn on the floor.

"Y/N called me. You were screaming and she tried to wake you up, but couldn't."

Jay's eyes widened. "Oh, God. I didn't...Please tell me I didn't hurt her, Will."

"No, but you did come close. She said she touched your shoulder and you just swung. She jumped out the way, though."

"Oh, God. I almost hit her, Will. Fuck. I'm a horrible brother."

Will sat done next to his brother, despite his sheets being all sweaty. "You are not a horrible brother, far from it. She knows it wasn't you that was doing this. Your mind was somewhere else. Now, do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"It was, it was all because of that damn knife. I don't know why I even kept it in the first place, Will."

"You kept telling someone to let go of him and called someone a bastard. Who?"

"I- There was this kid. His dad was gonna kill him and put a gun to his head. I tried, but I couldn't, I couldn't..." Jay let out a strangled sob and wiped the tears that ran down his face.

Will started to run a hand up and down his back, something he learned long ago that soothed Jay after nights like these. "And the knife?"

"I used that to kill the boy's father. I should have just gotten rid of it when I had the chance."

"Jay, I'm sorry all of this got dug up."

"Yeah, me too. I'm not proud of the man I was back then. I thought I was over this."

"It's okay to fall apart sometimes."

Jay nodded, even though he hated when it happened because the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He bottles up all his emotions that when he finally falls apart, he explodes.

"I think Y/N would want to know you're okay," Will suggested.

You were still in the same position you had been in when Will left you when you heard footsteps approaching you and looked up. Jay's eyes were bloodshot and it was clear as day that he had been crying. You felt the couch dip as Jay sat next to you.

"I'm sorry," Jay said. Slowly, as if not to scare you, he wrapped an arm around your blanket-covered body.

"You scared me," you whispered.

"I know. Will told me. I'm so sorry." He scanned your face, making sure that Will wasn't lying to him when he had told him that he hadn't hit you. "I just need you to know that what you saw, that wasn't me, Y/N. It was my mind bringing me back to a very dark place. I would never, ever, ever knowingly scream at you like that or lay a hand on you."

"I know. You didn't even yell that bad with everything that happened at school today. But, it's all my fault."

"Y/N, look at me." You looked up, your eyes red-rimmed from all the crying. "None of this is your fault. Yes, seeing that knife triggered me. But, I could've just as easily seen it if the box fell over and the knife fell out."

You knew what he was getting at. He was trying to assure you that you and the knife were not what triggered him. It was the knife and the knife only.

"Can Will spend the night?" you asked, knowing that if it happened again, you wouldn't be alone when dealing with it.

"Of course. Now, go back to bed. You've got school tomorrow."

You nodded and stood up, knowing he was right. It was currently 3:30 in the morning and you had been up for an hour and a half and you needed to be awake by 6:00. And, you knew that you needed your focus to be razor sharp at school now that you didn't have any protection.

"Goodnight. I love you guys."

***

The weekend had come and gone and now it was Monday. As much as you hated Mondays, the ones before homecoming were becoming increasingly worse. Everything was fine until you had walked out of school, keys in hand.

"What the fuck?" you yelled as you were slammed into the side of your car, your cheek hitting the window hard.

Then, you felt a hand squeeze your butt. "Fifty points," he whispered in your ear.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt his hand reach for your keys. "Get the fuck away from her, Evans!"

Then, you felt him being ripped off of you, by none other than Jordan Atwater.

"Whatever," Derek Evans grumbled as he shrugged Jordan's hands off him. "I got fifty points and she just went from 200 to 250 for the rest of it." Then, he walked away and Jordan was quickly at your side.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you sniffled.

"Here, let me take you home, and then we can tell Kevin and Jay and they can come get your car."

"No! They can't know about this Jordan and you know that!"

"Y/N, he just did that forcibly and they just increased the point value for..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the disgusting words.

"Jordan, I'm fine. I can handle this."

"Fucking hell, Y/N. Do you know what I heard rumors about in the locker room?" You shook your head, not wanting to know at all, but knowing Jordan would tell you anyway. "He was planning on taking your keys so that you'd have to go with him. Some other guys were planning on following you home tomorrow."

"I can't- I don't know what to do, Jordan. It used to just be a stupid game, but now it's this and- fuck."

"I know, I know. Listen, how about I check on you after practice to make sure no one comes over?"

"Jay grounded me. I'll just get in more trouble if you come over."

"What'd you do?"

"Just something stupid," you answered. You knew that if you told him about the knife, he would most definitely tell Kevin.

He raised an eyebrow at you, but let your lie slide. "You're telling Jay tonight or so help me God, I am telling Kevin tomorrow before school."

"Can I just come over to your house?" you muttered.

Somehow, he heard you. "I thought you said Jay would be mad at you?"

"Then we can tell Kev and if Kev knows first, he can tell Jay because I don't want to be the one to tell him. He'll freak."

"Yeah. Tell you what? I'll pick you up at your house right after practice and then we can go to mine."

"Thanks for having my back, Jordan."

"Hey, that's what friends are for."

***

Jordan sucked in a breath as his phone dinged, alerting him that someone else had posted something on that stupid leaderboard for that stupid game.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" you asked as you sat next to him on the couch, assuming it was a text message notification.

"It's, uh, it's not important."

"If it's a text it's probably important."

Before Jordan even had time to react, you snatched the phone from the table in front of him. But, you quickly regretted your decision as your face paled and tears sprang to your eyes.

"Are they- are they all saying these things about me?" you asked, barely above a whisper as you handed Jordan his phone.

His eyes quickly skimmed the comment on the leaderboard in front of him and he sighed. "I mean, they've said some pretty horrible things, but this is up there with the most disgusting."

"What's most disgusting?" Kevin asked as he walked inside to see you two sitting on the couch, Jordan trying to keep his phone away from you despite you having already seen the comment. "Wait, aren't you grounded, Y/N?"

"Does Jay tell all my business to Intelligence?" you grumbled.

Kevin shrugged as he hung up his jacket. "Pretty much. But really, wat'cha doing here?"

You and Jordan shared a look that didn't go unnoticed by Kevin. "What's going on?"

***

"So you wanted to talk to me first so that I could help you break the news to Jay?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah," you mumbled, shocked by you hadn't broken down yet. It was probably just because you were scared to tell Jay, scared of how he would react to people who were doing this, and scared of how he would react to you not having told him until now.

"Let me call him. I think he still had to finish up some paperwork, so maybe he hasn't noticed that you're gone yet."

Kevin walked away to go talk to Jay in private and Jordan went to the kitchen to grab you both some water. Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your cheek, not doubting that there would be a bruise there tomorrow due to how hard Derek shoved you up against your car.

"Need some ice?" Kevin asked, having reentered.

"I'm fine," you quickly said, knowing that Jay and Will would be babying you about your face anyway.

"If you say so."

Jordan returned with the water and slid one to you. "Jay mad?" he asked his older brother.

"I mean, I told him Y/N was over here and that she has something to tell him and to not get mad at her."

"Great, that helps a lot," you replied sarcastically.

"I also told him we might have a case."

"Okay, so he knows it's bad then. I just don't wanna blow this out of proportion--"

"Girl, blow this outta proportion?" Jordan interrupted. "They're planning on assaulting you! I think you can blow this up however much you want!"

"I just don't wanna be the one to start this conversation," you admitted.

"We gotchu, girl, we gotchu," Kevin reassured you.

***

"You better have a good reason why you left the house-- without telling me I might add-- when you're grounded!" That was the first thing Jay yelled as Kevin let him into the house.

"Whoa, calm down, man. She's got a good reason to be here--"

"A good reason? A good reason being that she wanted to hang out with Jordan when I clearly stated that she was to come straight home after school!"

Roughly, he pulled a chair out from under the table to sit down across from you. You stayed staring at the wood of the table, not wanting to look him in the eye. "You have a good reason, Y/N?" he asked smugly. "Then look me in the eye and tell me that reason."

Jordan squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, which gave you the bit of confidence you needed to look your brother in the eyes. "I- there's these points and I was pushed and..." you ran your hands down your face in frustration, trying to stop your tears. "I can't do this."

"Is that a bruise forming on your cheek?" Jay asked as you removed your hands from your face, his eyes immediately softening. You nodded. "Care to elaborate?"

"A football player shoved me up against my car and then he- and then he grabbed my ass."

"Does this football player have a name?" he asked, looking to Jordan because he was on the football team.

"He does, but there's more and I'm gonna tell you that first because I don't think Y/N wants to."

"Thank you," you whispered to Jordan.

"So it's more than just a stupid kid playing grab-ass with my sister?" Jay asked, anger starting to seep out once more.

"There's point values attached to each grab," Jordan started. "Grab a girl, it's usually 50 points. Do some other things with her, there's more depending on what it is. Freshmen are strictly off-limits, so it's Y/N's first year dealing with it."

"How long has it been going on?"

"I think the game started totally five years ago. It happens for a month leading up to homecoming. Anyone on the varsity football team pays $10 to play, and whoever has the most points at the end of the month gets the money.

"And this year, they started a leaderboard online, where you can vote on doing different things. If it gets enough votes, it's up for grabs for points. And well, just take a look."

Jordan slid his open phone to Jay and he scrolled through the website, complete with a leaderboard. He looked at the most recent comments and scrolled to the beginning of the thread.

200 points if you can get the cop's sister to give you oral

Jay swallowed a lump in his throat as he read the title and continued to scroll.

100 for the actual act and another 100 if you get it on video

Deal

Definitely

Just don't get caught

She's small so it shouldn't be that hard

Think she had a crush on me last year, so this should be a piece of cake. Pay up boys

You're on, Evans

Then, he got to the comments after today's events had occurred.

Grabbed Halstead's ass in the parking lot and was so close to getting her keys, but Atwater stopped me. Buzzkill. It's gettin' close to hoco, so points for her are now up to 250

Eh, I'll just follow her home tomorrow and then get her before her brother gets home

Her lips will probably feel so good wrapped around me

Jay let out a shaky breath as he got to the end of the thread. "You're right, Kev. I think we might have a case on our hands. You wanna go home, Y/N?"

"I'm scared," you said as you looked up at your brother, tears streaming down your face. "What if they come to the house, Jay?"

"Y/N, I promise you that I will never, ever allow that to happen."

***

You were in the shower, but you could still make out the faint sound of Jay's voice. You didn't know who he was talking to, but you assumed it was either Will, Voight, or Hailey.

All the events of the past two weeks came down on you, crushing you like a ton of bricks. You knew this game was going to happen, but what you didn't know was that they going to do that 200, well now 250 points for you. At least, you hadn't known until Jordan told you and begged you to tell someone.

Since the start of this sick, twisted game, you made sure to wear something that always covered your butt, such as a long sweater or hoodie paired with jeans or leggings. But apparently, that didn't stop money-hungry and hormonal teenage boys.

The first time it happened, it was just a quick pinch when you were standing at your locker, nothing too alarming. Hell, you hadn't even known who it was. But then, once the 200 points were on the line, they started getting more and more aggressive, cornering you after lunch or after class, blocking you from exiting the locker bank.

You had heard the whispers of what Derek Evans planned to do, so you took matters into your own hands, hence stealing Jay's knife from the Rangers. People always said to go to the school, that they'd stop if enough people told. But, they never stopped. Girls had tried and tried last year, and nothing happened. Hell, you were so close to talking to the principal but were cornered right before walking into the main office, so you gave up. You figured you could just put up with it until it was over, despite how much anxiety simply going to school was now giving you.

You stepped out of the shower, dried off, and changed into your pajamas. Then, you glanced at yourself in the mirror: puffy and red eyes and cracked lips stared back at you. You hadn't even felt human since this thing started. You felt like a fucking object.

A fucking arcade game that told them that if they tried hard enough they'd win a damn prize.

The gut-wrenching sob that left your lips stopped Jay on his way to the kitchen. Jay made his way to the bathroom and knocked on the door, your sobs still ever-present.

"Y/N, can I come in? Please?" He asked quietly, using the voice he used when he had to talk to children on the job.

"I just wanna be a-alone right now J-Jay," you hiccupped.

Jay sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I can't let you do that. It's not healthy." He didn't get a response, so he just stood outside the bathroom, hoping you'd exit sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. And your breathing just got shallower and shallower. "Are you dressed?" he asked.

It took you a moment, but somehow you managed to tell him that you were.

Your vision was starting to go blurry and your feet and fingers were starting to go numb. The sides of your head were pounding so much that you thought it was going to explode.

Jay took a paperclip and unfolded it, then pressed it into the knob until a click was heard. The door was heavier than he had expected, alerting him that you were slumped against it. You felt yourself being pushed forward, but at this point, you didn't even care since you were too focused on not passing out. But, if you did pass out you figured, at least your mind wouldn't wander to all the recent events.

"Y/N, Y/N, open those eyes for me, okay? Just look at me. Focus on me," Jay urged you after he had squeezed himself through the door and was now crouching down in front of you.

"C-Can't-- Open eyes-- hurts," you said through shallow and fast breaths.

"Okay. I'm gonna squeeze your hand. Just focus on the touch and try and follow my breathing."

"What-- if I-- pass-- out?"

"I won't let that happen. Now in, out, in, out. Good. Now I'm gonna add a second. In, out, in, out..."

You continued to focus on Jay's voice as you slowly but surely started to regain feeling in your feet and fingers.

"Can you open your eyes for me?" Jay asked, once your breathing had returned to a semi-normal state for a few cycles. Slowly, you opened your eyes but quickly closed them. "Head still hurt?"

"Yeah."

"That'll happen when not enough oxygen gets to the brain. You can even ask Will to fact check me." You heard the doorbell ring. "Speaking of Will..."

"You didn't."

"But I did. He brought food, too."

"Jay? Y/N? You here?" you heard Will yell from down the hallway after he entered the house.

"Bathroom!" Jay replied, causing you to wince due to how close he was to your ear. "Sorry."

"What the hell happened?" Will asked as he rushed to crouch down in front of you, going into doctor mode when he saw your eyes were clenched shut. There was a pause as Jay mouthed panic attack to his older brother. "Okay, well I'm gonna go get you some water, hopefully that'll make your head stop hurting and then I'll check out that cheek of yours."

"Do you have to?" you whined.

"Kid, one day you'll thank me for this."

"I doubt it," you mumbled.

Will came back with a glass of water and slid it into your hand, making sure that your hand was firmly wrapped around it before letting go. After waiting about a minute after you'd finished the water, you opened your eyes.

"Better?" Will asked.

"Better," you confirmed. "Thanks."

"That's what big brothers are for."

"So that means you don't have to go all doctor on me?"

"Ha, that was funny. Now, sit on the counter so I can take a look."

You pushed yourself off the floor and then onto the counter, Jay standing up after you to stand next to Will. Great, now you had two worried older brothers both looking at the same thing. At least they weren't both doctors.

"Damn, it's already bruising," Jay said as he looked on.

Will hand gently touched your cheek. "Tell me if anywhere hurts." He touched from your jaw up to your cheek bone, but the only place you told him that hurt was between the two and a bit at the bottom of your cheek bone.

"You're lucky," Will started, "You hit it just a bit higher I might have to take you in for x-rays to make sure you didn't bruise or fracture your cheek bone."

"No hospital?" you asked hopefully.

"No hospital," Will confirmed. "Just lots of ice."

"Come on, let's go get that food Will brought before it gets too cold...and the beer for me and him gets warm."

***

You walked into Intelligence with Jay the next morning, trying to think of anything but the worried looks you were getting. "It's okay to be scared," Jay told you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. "And, I'll be there the whole time."

"Do you have to?" you asked him.

"Because you're a minor and I'm your legal guardian, they can't talk to you unless I'm there. So, yes, I have to be with you."

"Hailey," Voight's raspy voice carried through the bullpen. "You go talk to Y/N. Ruzek, go talk to Jordan."

"Jordan's here?" you asked, looking up at Jay.

"Yeah. Kevin wanted him to give a statement, too. Said he can attest to all the stuff that was said in the locker room."

"Oh." You didn't want to think about the things that were said. If you thought what they were posting was bad, what they talked about in the locker room you knew would be ten times worse.

You followed Hailey into the breakroom. Despite being here dozens of times before, it felt odd to you this time, eerie, as it was waiting to gobble up your deepest and darkest secrets and fears and share them with the world.

Hailey sat across from you and Jay sat next to you. "Jay, I need you to read this over and sign it since Y/N's a minor." She slid two pieces of paper over to him and he glanced at them and quickly scribbled his signature.

Hailey gave him a look that said you're not gonna read it? "I've told parents what this says before. I know the drill." Hailey nodded and took the papers from him.

"Start from the beginning, Y/N. What happened with Derek Evans?" Hailey prompted.

"I have a question." Here goes nothing. Hailey nodded at you to continue while Jay furrowed his eyebrows. He had been over how this was going to work with you before you even stepped out of the house this morning to try and ease your nerves. "Does it matter?"

"Does what matter? What he did to you? Of course, it does," Hailey answered.

"No, sorry. That came out wrong. "Does it matter that I had a crush on him last year...and kinda into this year." The crush only lasted two months into this school year though, when you found out he had cheated on his current girlfriend. But last year, oh last year your crush was in full swing and you took every opportunity you could to talk to the then junior, and there was no fooling anyone in that school that you had been head over heels for him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not following," Hailey apologized.

"Since I had a crush on him and he knew it, couldn't he take that as I wanted this?"

"No. It's only consent if both parties agreed to it."

"But maybe me having a crush on him would make him think that."

Now, it was Jay's turn to speak. "Did you take health class yet?"

"No, I take it next semester. Why?"

"The teacher will talk about consent there, but I guess we're doing it now." He looked at Hailey to make sure this was okay and she nodded at him to continue. "What do you think has to happen for someone to not consent?"

"One of them has to say no or stop."

"Is that the only way to be sure?"

"I mean, I guess."

"See, that's where you're wrong. It's not consent if you slap his hand away. It's not consent if you're too drunk to say yes. Same for drugs. It's not consent if you're coerced into it. And, consent can be revoked at any time. Any time. To keep it simple for you to remember right now, it's only consent if you and him both said yes to this. And, I know you didn't say yes to what happened to you and what they were threatening to do to you."

"So, even though I didn't say stop or no right away when he pushed me up against my car and grabbed me, I still wasn't consenting?" you asked.

"No," Hailey answered. "Did he ask to grab your butt?"

"No."

"Therefore, there was no consent involved."

There was a knock on the door and Hailey got up to answer it. "Halstead, a word," Voight ordered, motioning for him to follow.

Jay glanced at you. "Hey, don't worry, kid. Everything will work out one way or another."

Jay followed Voight into his office and closed the door. "What's up, Sarge?"

"The kid who grabbed your sister, well he's 18, Jay. Just turned 18 last month."

"So, we can press more charges?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Since all we have are threats and Y/N's and Jordan's word against his, most we can do is forcible touching. If he had acted on the threat, then that'd be a different story."

"So, you're saying that she had to be forced to have oral sex with this ass to press more charges? The threats aren't enough? Even though we clearly have proof of the threats from that goddamn leaderboard."

"I know it's not ideal--"

Jay threw his hands up. "Ideal? It's ridiculous!"

Voight was about to say something, but was stopped by a knock on his office door. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Boss, we got a problem," Ruzek said as he entered.

"What type of problem?"

"The Evans kid? Yeah, well his dad's the president of the school board."

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was, Boss."

"Jay, go see if Y/N knew about this. The rest of us are gonna figure out how to proceed with this new information."

Jay was about to enter the breakroom, when his phone buzzed. It was Will.

Any news? the text read.

Other than the fact that the Evans kid's dad is the president of the school board and we only have enough to get him on forcible touching, no nothing new.

Jay didn't even think about the fact that he was sharing information about an open investigation. To him, this was just him talking to his brother about the case that involved his sister.

Jay held down the power button to turn his phone off and then walked back into the breakroom. "Anything?" Hailey asked.

"Uh, yeah. But let's finish interviewing Y/N first. I know we had to stop since I left."

Jay sat back down next to you and Hailey started questioning you once again.

"Did you know that this game was going to happen?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that's why I started wearing long sweaters and hoodies, to try and cover up my butt."

"Okay, and when it start to turn into more than grabs?"

"Um, one day Jordan called me after school and he told me that Derek was planning to get me to..." you trailed off, not wanting to say it.

"I know you think it's disgusting to say, Y/N, but I need you to say what he said to you."

You looked up at Jay, feeling like a five-year-old who was about to say a swear word. "It's okay. We won't laugh or get mad."

"He uh, Jordan told me that Derek was going to get me to give him a blowjob...even if he had to force me to do it."

A few tears ran down your face. Even though your brother was a cop, telling the actual cops in an actual statement made it that much more real.

"Do you want a break? Some water maybe?" Hailey asked.

"No, I'm fine. I just wanna get this over with."

"Okay. Did anyone try and tell the principal? Any teachers? Other adults?"

"Girls tried, they really did. They told Mr. White, the principal, but he said that they didn't have any proof. And, he also said that they were football players and that some of them had shots at scholarships for D1 schools. Why would we want to wreck that for them, is what he had asked us. And, Derek's dad is on the school board, so we knew that even if it went further than the principal and to the superintendent or school board, that nothing would happen.

"I was gonna try to tell Mr. White once, but I was cornered before I got into the main office, so I was scared."

You turned to Jay now. "I'm sorry. I should've told you when this all started but I didn't want to get made fun of or have more things happen at school because what if they canceled football and it was all my fault and--"

"You need to remember that you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing, you hear me?" you nodded. "And what White did, basically saying that boys will be boys, that makes me sick. And if I had a way to arrest him, I would."

"Thanks, Jay."

A comfortable silence fell over you before you explained everything else, like Derek shoving you against your car and forcibly grabbing your ass. You also explained how Jordan had said that he was planning on taking your keys so you'd have to have oral with him to get them back and how other players were planning on following you home.

After that, you were out in the bullpen, when Trudy Platt came up the stairs. "Hank, Halstead, I need you to go this address."

Platt handed Voight a piece of paper, which you're assuming had the address on it. "Why? This doesn't have to do with our case. Couldn't patrol do it?"

"I don't think Halstead would be pleased if I put his brother in lockup, so I figured I'd have you two go check it out," she answered.

"What did Will do?" you piped up before Jay could.

"Let's just say him and Derek Evans each got a few punches in," Trudy answered. "I thought you two could be the ones to go down and get him."

"Thanks, Trudy," Voight said as he started to walk downstairs. But, he stopped when he noticed that Jay wasn't following.

"Uh, Hailey," Jay called. "Could you maybe take Y/N to Will's house while I do this? I just don't want her at home in case they somehow got our address."

"Yeah, no problem," Hailey answered, taking the spare key Jay handed her.

You four walked down the stairs and then each headed your separate ways. Once Jay and Voight were in the car, Voight turned to him. "Care to tell me how Will found the name and address?"

"Sarge, I have absolutely no idea." And then he remembered the text he sent. "Oh, oh shit. Listen, it was an accident. He asked me if we had any new information, and I told him that Derek was 18 and he must've just went from that. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. To me, this isn't just an investigation, it's an investigation that involves my sister and I was just giving information to my brother without thinking about the legal ramifications."

"I get it, Jay. I did the same thing with Justin."

"Are we really arresting him?"

"No, but we are gonna have a chat with Derek and his father."

***

"I want to press charges!" Derek Evans' dad yelled when Jay and Hank rolled up to the scene. "This man assaulted my son!"

"Yeah? Well, your son assaulted my sister, so I think it's even!" Will spat back.

"Let's just take a moment to talk this out," Voight said, stepping between the two.

"I won't talk until you put this man in handcuffs!"

Voight turned and nodded at Jay. "Sarge, you can't be--"

"I am serious, Jay. Now do it and bring him to the car. Now."

Jay gritted his teeth and put Will's hands behind his back. "You have the right to right to remain silent. If you give up this right, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. If you do not have the money to afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been told to you?" Jay recited as he led Will to the car.

"Yes. Jay, what are you--"

"Just go with it," Jay hissed in his ear, causing his older brother to shut up.

Jay put Will in the back of the car and then got in the passenger seat. "Now, in a second I'm going to take these off and then I'm gonna go inside and talk to them with Voight. Do not, under any circumstances, get out of the car. You understand me?"

"Yeah, now can you get these off me? You put 'em on real tight, Jay."

Jay smirked as he took Will out of the car and undid his cuffs. "Payback for all the times you poked me with a needle." Then, he looked at Will's face. "Looks like the kid got a few good punches on you. There's gonna be a real nice shiner there," he joked.

"Shut up and go finish your job." Will rolled his eyes as Jay put the cuffs back in his pocket and left Will in the car.

When Jay walked into the Evans' residence he saw Derek, Derek's dad, and Hank all sitting down at the kitchen table. "Now, we know that your son has threatened to force himself on a girl at school, so this can go one of two ways," Voight started as Jay stood behind him. "We can either contact the media and tell them all about this little game he and his teammates like to play, but that he took a step too far, which would ensure he doesn't get into a good college. Or, you could transfer him out of his current high school and to a new one and this doesn't get out to the press. Your choice."

"You don't have enough to charge him, so why would I pull my son out of school his senior year?"

"Because, once word gets out, well no college wants a guy with a history of sexual assault on their football team. It sets a bad image."

"It's not like I even did anything!" Derek protested, while still trying to hold the ice pack to his lip that Will had busted open.

"Oh, didn't do anything? Let me enlighten you. You got the pictures, Sarge?" Jay asked.

"Got 'em right here."

Voight laid all the pictures of the leaderboard and the messages about you on the table. "The girl who Derek said he wanted to get oral sex from? That guy in the back of our car right now is her brother. Now, do you understand why the fight broke out, Mr. Evans?"

Derek's dad looked back and forth between the pictures and his son, trying to figure out how his son could do this. "Derek, did you say these things?"

"Oh, he did more than say. He slammed the girl up against her car and forcibly grabbed her backside," Jay said, not wanting to admit he was your brother or else there would be a conflict of interest in this encounter. And, even though Derek knew, Jay was the one with a gun so he figured the best idea would be to not piss him off.

Voight laid the picture of your bruised cheek on the table. "This is what happened because of that. She's lucky she didn't break her cheekbone."

"I'm- I'm sorry," Derek finally spoke up. "It was just supposed to be a fun game that we bet some money on who could get the most points."

"A game? A game is football. This is bordering on assault. We are far from a game," Jay told him.

"So, what's it gonna be? Take Derek out of school and transfer him or do I call the media? You have five seconds," Voight told him, pulling out his phone to silently tell them that he wasn't bluffing.

Derek's eyes widened. "I'll transfer! I'll transfer!"

"Derek, we need time to think about this--"

"No, Dad, I need a shot at a scholarship to go D1."

"Then it's settled. Thank you for your time."

Jay and Voight left the house and went back to the car. "What's the verdict?" Will asked.

"He's transferring schools," Voight answered and handed the folder of evidence photos to Jay.

"Why are you giving these to me?"

Voight shrugged. "Do with them what you want, Halstead. I wouldn't blame you, no one would."

***

"Hailey, can you give me and Y/N a second?" Jay asked as you entered you house and shrugged off your coats.

"Of course."

"You can stay out here. We'll talk in Y/N's room," Jay said.

You walked down the hall and went into your room and sat on your bed. "So, what's up? Did you arrest Derek?"

"Unfortunately, we didn't have enough evidence to do that."

You looked down at your hands. "But then it's just gonna keep happening, Jay. I don't wanna go back there."

"Back where?" he asked, sitting next to you.

"To school, it'll just be worse."

"Hey, no it won't because he's transferring schools."

"But the other boys will just keep doing it, Jay. I'm terrified."

"Hey, hey look at me." You looked up at Jay, trying to stop yourself from crying. "That will not happen, I can promise you that."

"But you don't know that."

"Just trust me on this one."

"Okay," you whispered.

"And one more thing," Jay started. "If it didn't already go without saying, you're ungrounded because I'm assuming you brought that knife to school to use in case anything happened. And, with what happened yesterday, I can't say I blame you."

"Thanks, I figured as much."

"Now, next time you need something for self-defense, we're just gonna get you some pepper spray."

"Good idea."

"Let's go back out to Hailey and you two can look at Pinterest or whatever for dresses or whatever it is girls do with that stuff."

***

The next morning, you woke up to message after message about school. There were links sent you entitled Football Player Assaults Girl Outside of School Because of a Bet and Principal of a Chicago High School Resigns Because of Complaints from Girls about the Football Team Sexually Harassing Them, but He Didn't do Anything about It.

You could not believe it. Just 48 hours ago you were freaking out about having to go to school for fear of a guy grabbing you or doing something worse. And now, you could go to school and feel comfortable. And, those boys wouldn't do anything else and if something did happen, you'd be able to tell the assistant principal--who was now acting principal--about what was happening and have something actually be done about it.

"Jay!" you yelled as you ran into the kitchen, almost bumping into him.

"Whoa, slow down! I almost spilled hot coffee on you!" he laughed as he set his mug down on the table and turned back to you.

"Sorry, sorry. Have you seen this? Someone leaked the leaderboard and now Mr. White resigned! I'll actually be able to focus in class now!" You slid the phone to him and he looked at the titles in the notifications. "I just wonder who did it."

"Told you I'd handle it." Then, he took a sip of his coffee.

"Oh my God, you were the one who leaked it?" Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Couldn't that get him in trouble?

"I never said that."

"You just sipped your coffee like that Kermit and the sips tea meme, so yeah, I think you did," you playfully argued.

"Well, technically, it wasn't me. I just passed on a copy of the pictures to a CI of mine, whose cousin happens to work for the Chicago Sun-Times."

"Bye-bye college football for all these assholes."

"And the city's a safer place because of it."

"Hey, what do I always say: Go save Chicago."

"Team effort. And this time, Y/N, you got to play a part in that team."

A/N: I know it's been almost a month since I've posted an imagine, but school is busy and I'm writing long imagines, which usually take me a week to write, so that's why. Oh, and happy Valentine's Day (bc that's in like 2 days). Go cuddle with your boyfriend/girlfriend if you have one. Or, if you're single (like me) go read some cute fluffy fanfiction and eat all the chocolate!

#writing #imagine #jay halstead #will halstead #chicago pd #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead imagine #will halstead imagine #Halstead Bros #halstead brothers #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #one shot #study-coffee-chicago

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missmungoe · 3 years

Note

What’s your idea about Makino’s little ring in the cover of chapter 806?

So I’m not sure if you’re asking me what I think the ring means (in which case, see: https://archiveofourown.org/series/581281), or if this is a prompt, but I don’t think the ring is an accidental detail, and as she had a child during the timeskip, it’s not unreasonable to assume it’s a wedding ring. I have >1.6 million words written about who I hope wears the matching one, but until “that man’s” identity is confirmed, it’s just a tantalising possibility, alas!

But even if the ring doesn’t mean what I hope it does, it doesn’t need to for my imagination to make it so, and just in case this was a writing prompt, here’s a little something I’ve been tinkering with, originally in answer to a completely different prompt, but since they went well together, I combined them:

The thing with feathers, that perches in the soul // Shanks x Makino; rated M (part 1/?)

“Take it off?”

Surprise lifted her voice, her laugh small and startled, but then she’d been caught off guard by the request, made out of the blue one morning.

The sun was taking its time, rising from its slumber with a lazy stretch across her floors, a slight chill still touching the salt air where she’d thrown the windows open. A thick cover of sea mist draped heavily over the water, soft as chiffon where it crept up the shoreline to the foundations of her bar; a protective shroud veiling her little corner of the world, half-forgotten by the rest.

Shanks had been reading the paper while she got ready to open, a routine they’d created, bit by bit over the months he’d stayed, communicated in touches and gestures―the chairs taken down from the tables while she had her back turned; a cup of coffee placed by his elbow before he could request it―no words needed between them in this first, tender hour, and so she’d been startled when he’d spoken.

She considered him across the counter, the glass she’d been polishing cupped idly between her hands. The look on his face was unusually serious, which told her what he had in mind wasn’t roleplay. Not the kind she would have expected him to suggest, anyway.

Unease crept with a shiver up her back, and she had an inkling already before Shanks said, evenly, “If anyone shows up, I want you to take your ring off. And I’m not talking about Garp, although this is probably the only time he’d agree with me.”

“But I don’t want to take it off,” Makino said, tucking her fingers around the hand that wore it, as though that could somehow keep it there.

She saw his eyes going to it, before they lifted to hers, the barest furrow between his brows betraying a rare tension. “It would be safer.”

“But who’s going to make the connection? It’s not like it has ‘property of Red-Haired Shanks’ inscribed on it.”

His lips didn’t even quirk, which was so jarring her own smile fell. She knew him so well, it was only rarely that he ever responded in a way she didn’t expect, but it was becoming clear to her now that whatever was on his mind, it couldn’t be smoothed over with jokes.

She took in his face, his handsome features arranged in a look she wasn’t used to seeing, a hardness about him that didn’t belong here, on her gentle shores―that belonged to a different sea, one that asked different things of him, things she couldn’t ask, and she hated it now for finding him here, and for infringing on her peace as she’d made it.

Her eyes darted to the paper, open on the counter, wondering if something in it had inspired this change, but seeing the way he looked at her, behind the counter that was the only protection she’d ever needed, Makino knew it wasn’t anything in the news, but something they’d both known had been coming for a while. Ever since he’d come back, it had waited in the wings, a silent patron she could ignore most days, too happy to pay it any mind, but there was no ignoring it now that he’d brought it up.

They’d been holding off discussing his departure, even as she’d known it was bound to catch up with them eventually. But while she’d made her peace with him leaving, knowing he’d come back, the thought of giving up the tangible reminder she had of that promise met resistance now.

She’d spent ten years hinging her hopes on nothing but her memories, trying to convince herself she hadn’t imagined the promise he’d made her. Now they were married, and there was more than words binding them, and even the sea had to respect these vows, spoken on the deck of his ship, no church or mortal court to give their blessing, only that bottomless cathedral, and the ancient authority that had witnessed their union.

She felt the metal of her wedding band, warmed by her fingers. Their rings had been wrought from the chain of the anchor that had first dropped in her port twelve years ago, but it wasn’t sentimental value that made her react so fiercely now, at the thought of parting with it.

She didn’t want to take it off―to pretend she hadn’t made that vow, or that the last two years hadn’t happened. The ring was a declaration of what she was, the only way she could declare it, when the world couldn’t know she existed. She refused to give that up, and to pretend she was anything less than she was, even just for show.

“It’s not like there’s any evidence tracing back to you,” Makino said, when he hadn’t spoken. “We don’t have a marriage certificate in the records that they can dig up.” Ben had been the one to marry them; an old sailor’s tradition, shamelessly borrowed with a pirate’s cheerful contempt of the law; the flowers in her hair new as snow, and the sea their something blue. Unconventional by most standards, but she couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

Shanks wasn’t budging. “It’s just safer if people believe you’re unmarried.”

“The whole village was at our wedding, Shanks. Half of them got blackout drunk, but I think they remember.” Her own memories were blurry at best, flowers crumbling under her bare feet, and laughing as he spun her, a wedding shanty that put their vows to shame, and laughter she could still feel in the bottom of her stomach.

The following hangover, though; that she remembered.

Still no smile, but then she heard how her attempted humour faltered, buckling under his seriousness. She didn’t like what it made of his face; the one she only knew as smiling.

“Not the village,” Shanks said, with a look and a pitch that said he knew she was being obstinate, and that left her breath feeling a little faint. He didn’t use that tone with her often, at least outside of more intimate settings, and she didn’t like it being invoked here, and in this way.

Shifting her weight, she squared her shoulders, all of her five feet brandished against his six and more, although even seated, it didn’t give her an advantage, but she saw the way his brow furrowed, as she said, gently firm, “I’m not taking it off.”

She didn’t know if the look on his face was affection or exasperation. “Can’t you just agree with me on this?”

“No.”

“Makino―”

“If anyone asks, I’ll just say my husband is out working the fields,” she said. “What are they going to do, go out and check? Because I can ask one of the farmers to put up a scarecrow by one of the ploughs.”

Her stubborn levity made no headway, his hardened features untouched, but she didn’t give in, her chin lifted as she stared him down across the countertop.

Then with a sigh, “You’d at least have to pick a believable lie,” Shanks relented, after enduring a full thirty seconds of her eyes. His look softened a bit. “And make it a good-looking scarecrow.”

“It could be asleep at the plough,” Makino suggested. “If we’re going for accuracy.” Her smile trembled, before it fell when he didn’t return it.

It was hard to swallow past the knot in her throat, and she heard it in her voice when she said, “I’ll tell them you’re out fishing.”

“And if they stick around and I never come in?”

“I’ll tell them I hope the sea king didn’t get you?”

This time she couldn’t even attempt a smile, and when his expression still didn’t change, she said, without teasing, “Then I’ll tell them you’re in Goa Port picking up a shipment of spirits. You’re a barkeep, but it’s hard getting orders delivered here. It’s a long way to Goa, too. You’ll be gone until tomorrow, at the earliest.”

“And if they come back and I’m still not around?”

She might have made another suggestion, but recognised from the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t backing down.

His face changed then, something like regret chasing across it, there before it was gone, and she didn’t understand why before Shanks said, with a heaviness that held an almost portentous note, “Say that you’re a widow.”

She was surprised by the forcefulness of her own reaction.

“No.”

He sighed. “Makino―”

“No,” she repeated, fiercely. “I won’t.”

She saw that she wasn’t the only one surprised by her reaction. And she didn’t even know why it hit her so hard. She couldn’t claim to be particularly superstitious. Her mother had been too practical for superstition, but she’d also respected the sea; they all did here, who lived their lives beside it. It was a more pragmatic relationship than a sailor might devote himself to, which often had an air of fancy about it, but even if they didn’t read omens from the sky or pray to any gods, there was an implicit understanding among them that you didn’t challenge those forces lightly. They were thankful for fair weather and a good catch, but they didn’t invoke the Fates here, or seek to challenge them.

But the man seated across the counter from her had the authority to do that; the one who’d carved a place for himself on a sea most never lived to sail, one of few who could claim the kind of power it took to challenge that old authority.

She wasn’t like him. She knew what was owed; a debt she’d been paying for twelve years, for wanting him. She didn’t want to invoke that word, the fate that was all too common for those who gave their hearts to sailors, in case she invoked prophecy along with it.

Putting away the glass, Makino pressed her palms over the polished countertop. She saw how they shook, and the still-new gleam of her wedding ring where it circled her finger, but then she hadn’t been wearing it long enough for it to get scratches.

She didn’t want that to be their marriage, taken off when the going got tough, forever keeping its shiny new exterior. She wanted it to show signs of wear, of work, and love―of actually being a marriage, and not just when it was convenient, or safe.

“I’m your wife,” she said gently, although the fervour behind it refused to bend against her own fears. “I want to be your wife, even if I’m here and you’re not―”

The words faltered on her tongue, but then there was a reason she’d been avoiding thinking about him leaving.

Shanks’ look softened, some of the tension in his brow yielding as he said, understanding, “The ring isn’t what makes you my wife.”

“I know that,” Makino said softly. Turning her hand, she gripped his fingers. He wore his ring now, but she knew he wouldn’t take the risk when he left. But she understood that, even if part of her rebelled against doing the same. “It’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from. I know it’s a risk. What I’m saying is that I’m willing to take it.” To be what she was, she’d accept the danger that came with it. That was her marriage vows. Not empty platitudes about sickness and health, only the simple, unembellished truth.

Shanks said nothing, his gaze on their hands, but the look in his eyes like he wasn’t seeing a ring but a shackle, and a different kind of prophecy than the one she feared.

She decided to try a different tactic.

“If pretending is what you want me to do, I could always get someone from Dadan’s family to stand in as my husband,” Makino said, and saw him look up, the slightest tightening at the corners of his eyes betraying his otherwise unreadable expression.

Turning his hand over between her own, she traced the sword-callouses in his palm, the softer pads of her fingers catching against the rougher skin. “Magra, maybe,” she continued, and watched the barest flex of his fingers. “I’ve heard he’s quite handy. We could tell people we met when he helped me carry a keg from the storeroom.” Lifting her eyes found him watching her, but she only met his gaze calmly, as she asked him, “What do you think? Would he make me a good stand-in husband?”

His eyes held hers, her gentle challenge noted, the look in them somewhere between knowing and warning, and this time it sent an entirely different kind of shiver racing up her spine.

Undeterred, she lowered her eyes to their hands, smoothing her thumb over his knuckles, pale under his sun-darkened skin. “Maybe he could help me out around the bar. To keep up appearances.”

Flicking her eyes up to his, she went in for the kill. “He could even stay in the guest room. Just to be safe.”

His whole look darkened, and her stomach did a thrilling little flip.

“Don’t like that idea, hmm?” she asked, and tried to pretend her voice didn’t shiver, but it was hard when he was looking at her like that. “Me with someone else.” She trailed her fingertips across the back of his hand, her own so small she couldn’t even cover half of it with all her fingers splayed. “A different man in my house.” A fleeting caress to his wrist felt the tendons in his forearm, pulled taut with a strain that left her feeling suddenly short of breath, even as she said, demure, “And my pantry.”

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, wife.”

The pitch of his voice had goosebumps pebbling her flesh, his naturally deep timbre touched with a note of warning that stirred something deep within her, although she couldn’t tell which was the fiercer feeling, desire or relief, finding her cheek finally parried with something other than that hard expression that couldn’t be coaxed into yielding, no matter how gentle her touches.

“Well,” Makino said, and even teasing, the sincerity was real when she told him softly, her small hand gripping his, mapped with the evidence of his life, their marriage included, “I don’t mind a little danger.”

Then, this time without teasing, “I married you,” she said, and didn’t care that her voice trembled now. She wasn’t hiding her feelings. “And I’ll be careful, but I won’t hide what I am, or pretend that I’m something else. Or someone else’s.”

Bearing the weight of his eyes, she didn’t shy away from them, or from the truth as she spoke it.

“I’m yours,” she told him, fiercely, and felt the way his hand tightened under hers. “And if they come here and they already know about me, nothing I say or do will change their minds. The ring won’t matter. And there are things I can’t hide that easily.”

She glanced towards the crib behind the counter; the one they’d fashioned out of an old barrel of their captain’s favourite whiskey. She’d found the gesture both characteristically inappropriate and undeniably perfect, but then she’d spent her first years sleeping in a liquor crate while her mother worked. And their child wasn’t just the son of a pirate; he was the son of a barmaid, too.

She saw Shanks’ gaze going to it, and the baby sleeping within. And it was more than her lack of protection that weighed on him, she knew, but as long as he was who he was, there would be a risk in being associated with him. Even retiring wouldn’t change what he’d been. Not in the eyes of the current Fleet Admiral, anyway.

And since it wasn’t something either of them could change, she was determined to make the best of the situation, but then she was good at that.

She thought it was time to remind him just how good.

It was still a little while before they were due to open, and smiling, “You could always help me practice my ruse,” Makino suggested, and saw his brows lifting, bemusement at what she had planned easing some of the tension from his features.

Leaning across the counter, she trailed her fingers along his wrist, following the contours of his arm, and the distracting tautness of corded muscle under her fingertips, “My husband isn’t here, officer,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “It’s just me: a very lonely barmaid with a very spacious pantry.”

Her face fell when he pinched his lips, before his grin shattered his whole composure, and, “Wait,” she said, drawing back to stutter, “That sounded better in my head. What I meant was that―”

A broad hand reached around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss that stole what she’d been about to say, and muffling her startled laugh, although his own was quick to follow, deep and rough where it rose from his chest, the kiss breaking when he couldn’t contain his grin.

Drawing back enough to look at her, he sighed, rough fingers slipping from her neck to tuck her hair behind her ear. “God, you’re terrible at this,” Shanks said, with such a fierce affection, her heart constricted. “Completely unconvincing.”

Balancing on her toes, the edge of the counter dug into her ribs, but the discomfort was fleeting and unimportant. Her smile trembled on her mouth, inches from his, his beard brushing her jaw as she murmured, “I know.”

Closing her eyes, she kissed him softly, her hands cupping his face, no pretence this time, only the honest truth, offered with all of herself, the only way she knew how.

He’d moved before she could react, the kiss breaking only for a second, and she’d barely had time to catch her breath when his mouth claimed hers again, his arm wrapping around her as he pushed her back towards the storeroom, and the door where it sat ajar.

They stumbled over the doorstep, fumbling between sloppy kisses, like they were in that moment younger people with less to lose, her little laughing shriek muffled against his lips when he hoisted her up onto the shelf where her ledger lay open, and she couldn’t contain her giggles even as he shushed her through grinning kisses, knowing from experience how little it took to rouse a three-month old baby but unable to help herself, something wild and reckless pushing like wings against her ribcage, refusing to stay hidden, wanting out, fearless in its desire, and its will to claim it.

They hadn’t brought a lantern, and the light hadn’t reached this far into her bar, the storeroom cool and dark and the heavy shelves keeping her spirits and secrets, the crates digging into her back as he pinned her to them.

“This is very rakish behaviour for a married woman,” Shanks rumbled, releasing her from the kiss, her breath hitching when his hand wrapped around her thigh, pushing her skirt out of the way. “Someone might mistake you for a pirate.”

Makino hummed, finding her balance on the shelf, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as she swung her legs, her boots and stockings impishly bared, and saw how it drew his eyes, before she eased them apart, her smile small and demure, and utterly unconvincing. “Imagine that.”

His eyes held her, his features darkened by the shadows of her pantry, making his scars look more pronounced, but the look beneath was gentle as Shanks touched his brow to hers. His thumb traced the hem of her stocking, and the glimpse of bare skin beneath her skirt where he’d pushed it up.

The feeling from before seized her, that fearless thing, like wings waiting under her skin. And maybe it was easy to be brave here, within the walls of her pantry where it felt like nothing could touch them, but even knowing differently didn’t change what she felt, as Makino told him, soft, “Ask me again.”

His look changed, a sudden intensity in it that made her glad she was sitting, but she didn’t look away, accepting the full weight of the truth behind it, unfearing of what it meant to be loved like that, and by someone like him.

Bending his head, his mouth covered hers firmly, stuttering her breath with a gasp, a command behind it that left her hands shaking where she’d curled them around his neck, and if she’d had any more clever remarks prepared about stand-in husbands or navy officers, they fled her mind now as she melted.

The big hand around her thigh tightened its grip, his wedding ring digging into her skin, as though he could imprint something that couldn’t be taken off or hidden, that was written on her skin, on her soul, and if she could have formed the words, she might have told him he already had, but they were lost when his hand slid up her thigh to part her legs, finding her with a shuddering breath that she felt in the way it left him.

And this was another unspoken language they’d made, communicated in touches―her legs parting to him in welcome, and his hand pausing, his fingers already half inside her, asking; her breath hitching as she lifted herself up to kiss him deeper, her hands threading through his hair as she gave herself, a silent affirmation that told him to take―no words needed as he entered her, carefully even if it had been months since their son, but she appreciated the restraint he showed, even with all of him unravelling under her hands, that iron-clad control included.

Her legs wrapping around his waist pulled him deeper, her gasp stuttering with a faint little plea as he filled her to her limit. And if she hoped he’d leave something in her it was a private thought, begged with her breaths as she took him inside her, each thrust a little harder, the bottles stirring in their crates as the shelf creaked, a steady rhythm growing in tandem with her gasps.

Her hands left his jaw, fumbling with the front of her stays as she slipped loose the little hooks until it popped open, and he was already reaching for her, his fingers a shock of warmth where they slipped past the low cut of her blouse to cup one of her breasts, tiny in his hand, his sword-calluses rough where he caressed it, and her shivering moan was well received, from the deeper groan that left him, as Shanks slowed his pace, touching her as he took her, until the shelves were rattling.

Bending down, he kissed her chest, his lips seeking the wide valley between her breasts, her flushed skin pearling with sweat. His beard scuffed her breast as he pulled it free, and she gasped, arching against the shelf as he curled his tongue around a painfully sensitive nipple, her lips parting over his name where it left her in a whimper.

He came like that, her skirt shoved up her hips and her silk stockings slipping down her legs, spread to him where she sat, the pages of her ledger crumpled and damp beneath her; the stereotype of the lascivious tavern wench, but she embraced it now, shockingly indulgent in her own lewdness, watching him as he finished with deep, pulsing shudders, a groan leaving him that had her toes curling in her boots.

His eyes slitted open, the grey steel muted, but even then his full attention was arresting; a single look enough to dismiss everything else in the world, as though she was the only thing in it.

She watched as they swept across her, her breasts bared to the air and her thighs spread, his cock still inside her, but she didn’t squirm or try to hide, only allowed him to see.

Bending forward, Shanks kissed the parting of her hair, his breath winded as he leaned some of his weight on her. His knuckles brushed her cheek, catching the tears that had spilled over without her notice. His ring was cool against her skin; wrapping around the back of her neck, she felt how they shook.

Carding her fingers through his hair, she felt him exhale, but he didn’t let her go, just held her like that, the protective frame of his body between her and the door, hiding her from view, and nothing could have touched her there, in that moment.

His fingers trailed down the dip between her shoulder blades. Her blouse clung to her skin, the air within the storeroom damp and smelling of them, but she couldn’t even worry that someone would stumble across them, although had enough presence of mind to think that she should probably fix herself up before their first customers arrived, but was distracted by the deep chuckle that left him, and his voice where it rumbled into her skin,

“Where’s your husband now, barmaid?”

Her laugh trembled, and her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing her nose into the hollow of his throat. She loved him like this, freed of worry, if only for a little while. And that was her power; the only one she could claim, but it wasn’t a small thing in this age, to command peace.

And she knew how he expected her to react, because he knew her better than anyone, and never let an opportunity to make her flustered pass him by.

But she knew him, too, and like him, she knew exactly how to nudge him off balance. Which was why she said, demure as anything, “He’s ploughing his wife.”

She felt the hand on her neck pausing, the slight stiffening in him betraying his surprise, before his shoulders convulsed, as Shanks bent forward with a laugh.

The sound filled her, loud and lovely, but a softness about it that was hers, that tender, half-winded thing. She thought the whole village had to hear it, and that it would wake the baby, but she didn’t care, her own laughter helpless, hearing his, and feeling the way his arm tightened around her, which said more than any other gesture or word, even as Shanks murmured roughly, “I love you.”

Cupping his face with her hands, she pressed her forehead against his. “It will be okay,” Makino said, and didn’t care that she couldn’t make that promise; that there were other forces that wanted their say. But she wouldn’t hide from her choices, and him least of all. “You’ll see.”

Shanks said nothing, only held her, but he didn’t disagree this time, which she counted as a small victory, and it was what gave her the courage to quip, “And if anyone asks, I’ll tell them my husband can’t be held down. His heart belongs to the sea. It’s just the way things are, in this day and age.”

His eyes found hers. In the dim light, they looked darker, but she knew the look in them, and like the laugh, that was hers, too. “I thought we agreed that we were going for accuracy,” Shanks said. A tender smile curved his mouth, as he told her roughly, “And that you’re a terrible liar.”

Her grin couldn’t be contained, splitting her face, wide and without shame, and his.

The sound of the bat-wing doors swinging open reached them, followed by their first customers arriving, and her grin fell as horror widened her eyes, before she scrambled to pull her stays closed.

A voice from the bar drifted through the door―“Huh? Where’s Makino-chan?”

“That’s odd,” said another, as her mortification deepened, recognising one of her mother’s oldest patrons; a man who’d seen her toddle around in diapers. “Red-Hair’s not here, either. They’re usually open by now.”

Shanks’ grin grew, and she saw the punishment for her disobedience in the gleam in his eyes, and hissed, “Shanks, no―”

But she wasn’t quick enough, as he turned his head towards to call out, “She’s coming! Or she will be.” And before her horror could fully sink in, added brightly, “Just give me a few minutes to finish; I want to make sure she does.”

Her hands clapping over his mouth didn’t succeed in muffling his laughter, but then even her embarrassment couldn’t hold out against the grin that split his face now, which held no trace of his earlier seriousness, as he nipped and kissed her fingers until her mortification dissolved with her laughter.

When they emerged a few minutes later, after she’d blankly refused to let him get her off first (although had agreed to revisiting it after closing), it was to find their regulars waiting, knowing looks exchanged above poorly-stifled grins as she with every ounce of prim dignity she possessed asked them if they wanted their usual, all the while ignoring Shanks’ eyes following her as she made her way between the tables. Although having taken their orders, she caught the fond murmur as she made for the bar―

“Married life suits her, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, it does. Shame Em ain’t here to see it.”

Her smile ruined her prim composure, but she claimed it for herself, and kept her chin high as she walked to the bar where Shanks was waiting, leaning back against the kegs.

“What?” he asked, when she reached him, lifting up on her toes to steal a kiss; not something she usually did, shy about public displays, unlike him, and relished in his surprise at her brazenness, shaping his grin, a gentler thing than in the storeroom earlier.

Her own smile was small, as she lowered back on her heels, her head tipped back to look up at him, noting the dish-towel slung over his shoulder, a different kind of captain, with no sea underfoot, but a captain still.

“Nothing,” Makino said, before reciting, “One egg over easy, and―”

“―one sunny-side up, hash browns on the side of both, and a single serving of bacon, because old man Nakamura is watching his cholesterol.”

At her look of surprise, he only smiled, and bent his head to kiss her once, before he made for the kitchen, a grin thrown over his shoulder, leaving her staring after him, and wondering how he could have ever expected her to pretend to be the person she’d been before him.

The doors swinging open drew her gaze to his crew, and her smile blossomed as they greeted her, loudly and cheerfully. And there was no doubt in their minds what she was, catching their cheeky bows and tipped hats, but she didn’t shy from their reverence where it named her, and more clearly than any ring or vow.

“Hey, where’s that husband of yours?” Yasopp asked her, when she appeared at their table to take their orders. Someone had given him the baby, awake and peering up at all the faces around him. Yasopp made a face at him, and when he got a gummy little smile, asked him in a sing-song voice, “What’s his name again?”

“Keeps slipping my mind,” Ben agreed, grinning around his toothpick.

“Wait, who are we talking about?”

“Makino’s husband.”

“Oh, right! That guy.”

The others joined in, feigning forgetfulness, their laughter growing in volume, until there was nothing left of the quiet morning, dissolving like the sea mist as the sun claimed its seat in the sky.

Her playful look warned them, although her smile indulged their cheeky insubordination, knowing well just how far it was from the truth. Because she could imagine their reactions to the suggestion, however teasingly made, about a stand-in husband in their captain’s absence, endearingly protective, and not just of her. She would spare poor Magra that.

“He’s here,” Makino said, and heard in the words the fleeting truth, but didn’t care if she wouldn’t be able to say the same a month from now, or two. He’d be home again soon, with the tide. They all would.

Emerging from the kitchen, Shanks took one look at the room and stopped, a different kind of concern furrowing his brow now as every grin within turned towards him. “What did I miss?”

Coming over to where she was standing, he put the tray he was carrying on the table. The look he gave her said he had his suspicions, and that her innocent smile was fooling no one.

Then a gleam entered his eyes, and Makino knew she was in trouble even before he chirped, “Did you tell them about your plan to get a stand-in husband in my absence?”

Their grins fell, and Makino closed her eyes.

Poor Magra.

“A what?!”

She didn’t get a stand-in, but she didn’t take the ring off, either―a small act of rebellion, but it was the only thing she could do in opposition to the system that governed their world, and the laws that would punish her for her choices. And maybe there was a little pride there, too, but then loving him was her greatest crime, and she’d accept all charges against her, pleading guilty to whatever court would see her put on trial, mortal or otherwise. Those were her wedding vows, too; the ones she hadn’t spoken aloud to him.

Her bar saw the occasional new visitor, on their way to Goa or further still, who’d seen the lights from afar and decided to have a look, but there was only one who asked about the ring, and who didn’t bat an eye when she told him her husband was currently across the island signing off on a shipment. He’d only remarked positively on their bar, and said that no tavern in Goa Port he’d been to had been as hospitable.

(She hadn’t questioned his manners, unfailingly good, almost military-like; hadn’t looked closely enough at the set of his shoulders, that proud bearing she’d known since childhood, from the grizzled marine who’d ruffle her hair until her kerchief sat askew and who’d sneak her gifts behind her mother’s back.)

Garp would have seen through him, she would realise later, but she’d been so busy trying to keep up appearances, she’d forgotten to question if her visitor was doing the same.

She was getting ready to open―had just finished lifting the chairs off the tables and had gone into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee when she remembered it wasn’t necessary, and had instead gone to wring out the rag to wipe down the counter when she heard the bat-wing doors swinging inwards.

Ace was asleep in his crib, safe under the counter behind the curtain she’d pulled closed, and she didn’t pause at her early visitor, as emerging from the kitchen, she called out, forgetting for a moment that she was alone, the we invoked so easily, even weeks after he’d left, “I’m sorry, but we’re not open yet―”

The words cut off, as she came to a halt.

She could smell the cigar smoke from across the room, the butt smouldering like the embers in her hearth, an almost unnatural glow in its burning eye where it fastened on her like a brand.

The white coat was the first thing she noticed, but she would have recognised him even out of uniform, the straight shoulders and the flower tattoo peeking out from under his shirt, the garishly patterned kind that reminded her of Garp, but that was where their similarities ended.

He was flanked by two officers, their caps pulled low over their brows, but she recognised the one on the left, dark-haired and dimpled and refusing to meet her eyes, his hands white-knuckled around the rifle he was holding. He’d loved her cooking so much he’d asked for a fourth helping; had said it reminded him of his sister’s, who he hadn’t seen in years.

The Fleet Admiral took her in, a single sweep of his eyes across her announcing his feelings, something far more personal than simple contempt in the furrow of his brow. Judge, jury, and executioner; he’d already decided her charges, and what her punishment would be, for the choices she’d made. The only crime she’d committed, but for a man like him, it was enough.

And she’d been right. In the end, the ring hadn’t mattered.

“Arrest her.”

#Shanks x Makino #Shanks/Makino #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #Makino #One Piece #One Piece fanfiction #opfanfic #fanfiction #mungoe writes #Shanties for the Weary Voyager #sharing snippets of my WIPs helps me feel like I'm being productive #this story isn't meant to be very long mind #(and I know - famous last words haha)#but I'm hoping this might pique someone's interest!

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

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idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

#survivors au #well adjusted five au #five actually has some social skills!#and an idea of what an actual parent looks like as well #klaus absolutely adores this version of five #who quotes vines and uses gen z slang with the best of them #five has been reliably informed that public education is worse than the apocalypse #but he's also pretty sure working with his family is worse as well #five: i have so much trauma lol #klaus: oh big same #vanya: mood #five is somehow the most well adjusted hargreeves #and the most responsible #he doesn't legally exist and he doesn't pay taxes but somehow he has his shit together #five showing up at rick's house: you don't know me but i know you in the future #rick: what the fuck #five: don't make me bring up bethany midler from highschool because you gave me so many embarrassing stories to convince yourself with #rick: okay okay i believe you and you are???#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world #five arriving back at the manor like: WHAT'S UP LOSERS RICK IS NOW YOUR DAD TOO BC GOD KNOWS Y'ALL NEED AN ACTUAL FATHER FIGURE #klaus calls rick a dilf and five kidney punches him hard enough that klaus can't even properly introduce himself #it's better for everyone that way #delores: 15 and ready to fuck someone up #delores: i'm not staying with this weirdo (diego) while you go off with my dad #five threateningly: don't make me bring up what really happened to dad's good suit in 2012 #delores: i will stay right here #rick: wait WHAT happened to my good suit #five: unimportant don't you want to save the world #long post #far tua long

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