#then they’ll have no other choice but to shut the fuck up or write it themselves
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I’ve been having a nice little block party for the past couple of days. 10/10, highly recommended. ☺️
#cherry chats 🍒#you rodents won’t be camping out underneath my fics after 48 hours of spewing anti blackness#I don’t play that shit#yall shit on the very fandoms and writers that you rb from and expect it to be okay#just take a scroll through the comment section on that post and get to blocking#if they don’t have access to our works#then they’ll have no other choice but to shut the fuck up or write it themselves#y’all wanna be one of the ‘good ones’ so bad#meanwhile my yt mutuals be talking abt getting impaled like a rotisserie chicken by four men sjdjdjdhd#be serious bitch
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★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★
ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"
pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader
fandom: boku no hero academia
word count: 1,196
tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory
notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)
! this is a repost from my other blog !
‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’
Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.
It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway
‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’
‘The place smells like shit too.’
‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.
‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’
Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.
‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’
[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?
‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’
Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk.
‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.
She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’
* *
No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!
However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”.
‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’
Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:
‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’
Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really.
Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!
Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].
‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’
Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.
‘But why?’
‘’Cause it’s annoying.’
[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins.
The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon.
(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)
(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)
For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.
* *
For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school.
But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow.
‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’
And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.
He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be?
Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.
He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras.
‘Yeah, whatever.’
i really enjoyed writing this!
let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.
#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#mha x reader#midoriya#izuku#iida#uraraka#tenya#ochako#kirishima#denki#kaminari#hero#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#detroit smash#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#x sibling reader#sibling reader#sibling#gender neutral reader#platonic#wholesome#bnha fluff
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I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though.
pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader
fandom: boku no hero academia
word count: 1,196
tw: none! completely platonic and wholesome fluff. some swearing from bakugo a few times but that comes with the territory lol
notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)
‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’
Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.
It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway
‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’
‘The place smells like shit too.’
‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.
‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’
Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.
‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’
[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?
‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’
Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk.
‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.
She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’
* *
No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!
However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”.
‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’
Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:
‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’
Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really.
Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!
Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].
‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’
Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.
‘But why?’
‘’Cause it’s annoying.’
[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins.
The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon.
(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)
(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)
For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.
* *
For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school.
But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow.
‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’
And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.
He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be?
Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.
He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras.
‘Yeah, whatever.’
i really enjoyed writing this!
let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.
#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#mha x reader#midoriya#izuku#iida#uraraka#tenya#ochako#kirishima#denki#kaminari#hero#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#detroit smash#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#x sibling reader#sibling reader#sibling#gender neutral reader
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Could you write Yandere Karl Heisenberg headcanons? 👉👈
Karl Heisenberg & GN!reader
A/N: This is my interpretation of Yandere. Which in and of itself is already dark, toxic, and not healthy. So, prepare yourself for something that’s not going to make you feel warm and fluffy inside 👍
(Thanks for the ask, love)
CW: This is DARK, proceed with caution. Body horror, possessive behaviors, mention of abuse, toxic “relationship” dynamic, suicide, death
In no way am I romanticizing this type of behavior, or condoning it. I’m just being realistic on how someone like him would be with this twisted sort of mindset, personally, I would never take this level of disrespect, I recommend you don’t either. DDDNE
Proper characterization is important to me, let me know if you think I got anything wrong, I welcome criticism ♥️
Karl Heisenberg Yandere HC’s:
First of all, with normal Karl, you’re going to need a lot of patience and compassion to deal with his grungy ass
With Yandere Karl, may the father, son, and the Holy Spirit save you because you’re effed up the wazoo
You could meet him a few different ways, but the most likely is you’re a villager. You’d probably been on your way to pay homage to the Lady Dimitrescu, and he’d just so happened to be heading to the Duke at the same time.
Talk about bad luck.
You think he’s charming, in a gruff sort of way.
He’s blunt with his words in a way you can appreciate. You tire of having to filter yourself because of the way you are demanded to act in the village. He provides an outlet where you can finally be unfiltered. Unfortunately, you don’t seem to notice how much he loves you talking shit with him.
He’s so used to the people in the village running from him or being meek and timid around him. It pisses him off and does nothing to excite him.
You, however, are very very intriguing to him.
You’ve got a fiery spirit, he’d love to known how far he can push you before you ignite or extinguish.
You grow to like him, maybe even a little infatuated, and you think the other villagers were being unnecessarily cruel.
You don’t realize they had good reasons for hiding their young and locking their doors when he’d deign to come down from his factory.
You catch subtle quirks in his behavior.
Growing a little tense or being abruptly rude to someone if you were talking to them instead of him.
Doesn’t matter if they were a child or an elder, they’ll walk away crying once he’s done.
And you want to admonish him, really, you do. But he has this strange look in his eyes that makes your tongue feel like dead weight in your mouth. Your jaw snaps shut and he’ll give you a tight smile before grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you off somwhere.
Maybe you start to distance yourself from him. Finally start to notice the way no one in the village will even look at you anymore. How everyone sends a prayer to the Mother when you pass by, like an omen of death.
Too. Fucking. Late.
He’s locked on you, you’ve peaked his interest. And he’s had such little entertainment, he’s been so bored for so long.
He’s helping you, anyway. He’ll tell you as he straps a cuff around your ankle. No one in the village would ever want you. You’d be a pariah for the rest of your life. You need him.
His main goal in life is to overthrow Miranda
Nothing, I mean nothing gets between that. If you were to try and intervene you’d be severely punished, possibly even killed. Doling out death like that isn’t foreign to him. Look at what he does to the villagers of the town when he’s making his soldats.
The effects of your death would only sink after the choice was made:
“Hey, buttercup!” Karl glanced up from his newest invention and frowned. By now you’d figured out to come the first time he called. He should already hear your footsteps trailing across the metal. “Kid!” He glanced over his shoulder, irritation brewing in his gut. His fists clenched, the tools in his hand bending slightly as he slammed them against his desk. You had about five fucking seconds before he got the chair back out for you. He was sure you would hate being strapped to that, again.
He felt more disappointment than anything. He really thought you guys had gotten to a better place. One where you understood where your place in the world was. At his feet, obedient and willing.
He went ahead and dragged the chair out of the closet, dusting flakes of blood off the arms and undoing the leather straps. He was sure the sight of it would be enough to whip you back into shape, but he had a lot more fun being hands on. “Now!” He shouted, voice echoing throughout the factory, and, still, you didn’t come. He didn’t worry anymore about you trying to leave, lycans and chains stopped that from happening. He wondered where you found the audacity to try and be even a little bit rebellious.
Maybe it was the bottle of whiskey he downed last night. Or the fact that he hadn’t gotten any sleep for the last four nights that made him forget what happened only a few days ago. How you’d argued with him against pursuing Miranda. Stupidly tried to convince him to just leave the village with you, leave it all behind and be happy somewhere else.
He’d been blinded by rage. So goddamn furious that you wouldn’t just shut the fuck up and listen to what he was trying to tell you. That no matter what, without Miranda dead, he would never be free. He’d lashed out with his powers, he’d only meant to send the gears on his desk flying at you. Rattle you up a bit. He’d completely forgotten about the metal collar strapped around your neck.
Heisenberg reached out, powers trailing up the stairs and latching onto the familiar shape and feel of your collar. There was a loud thud as your body slipped from the bed and he frowned at the noise. Were you still asleep? He glanced at the chair, maybe he should give you a break. But… He wanted to have some fun, needed a release. He wouldn’t be too harsh on you this time.
Slowly, you thud, thud, thudded your way down the stairs. Heisenberg pulled and heard something like cloth dragging on concrete as you rounded the corner. His eyes widened and he felt the cold grip of realization latch onto him. Your body lay motionless on the ground. Hands curled up in rigid claws, eyes flattened and grey. Your skin was a completely different shade, no color at all left in your lips. Your skull was still split from where you’d slammed into the wall when he’d accidentally sent you flying.
He’d just forgotten about it.
Assumed it was a nightmare and moved on.
He sank down in his chair and stared unseeing at your corpse.
You’d be buried, a spot Karl would always be able to see from his workstation. Your death would somehow be blamed on Miranda and you’d just be more motivation for his suicide mission. I’d like to say he would be negatively affected by it. But he’s good at compartmentalizing, a few days of mourning, and then he’d be back to his mission. Your name a distant memory always tickling the back of his skull.
I imagine there’s a lot of underlying issues revolving around bodily autonomy given how Miranda took it away from him when he was infected with the cadou. And given how, sadly, more often than not, the victim perpetuates the cycle, that would be projected on you.
If he managed enough self control around you not to kill you while he’s throwing a temper tantrum, you can bet your ass he’s keeping you alive longer than you want to be.
In his mind, he’s been screwed and fucked over so often, that he’s not letting you hurt him too. He takes it as a personal offense that you age and get sick, because he doesn’t. Cadou took care of that. He’s got a long miserable life ahead of him.
Well, congratulations! So do you!
You’ll wake up one morning, a strange feeling in your arm and feel disoriented:
You try to say his name, but your tongue is fuzzy and you can’t seem to string together a coherent thought.
You blink slowly, vision fuzzing in and out of focus. “Hey,” you vaguely recognize his voice as he walks towards you. His hands are gentle, suspiciously so, as he cradles you. Slowly, like he’s afraid to hurt you, he props you up. You’re distantly bothered by the fact that you can’t really feel your right arm very well.
But Karl rarely ever treats you so gently, so you’ll soak it up as much as you can now. Your head lolls slightly to the left and you give him a groggy smile. Whatever he dosed you with was slowly losing its grasp on your consciousness and you could start to feel yourself becoming more cognizant.
“Hungry?”
You shook your head, stomach turning as you smacked your lips. Your mouth felt like he’d vacuumed the moisture out of it. He chuckled, the kind sound rushing over you like a warm blanket. He disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a cup in his hands. You tilted your head back as he dribbled the water between your parted lips.
He leaned forward and pressed chapped lips against your forehead and it’s only then that you started to feel uncomfortable. Why was he being so nice? What the fuck did he do to you while you were passed out?
You could feel the telltale signs of a panic attack, the drugs doing little to subdue it now. Karl picked up on your rapid breathing, the way your pulse jumped under the loose hand he had around your neck. It’s only then you noticed the lack of collar. You reached up, hands feeling foreign against that patch of skin.
His head dropped and he landed a kiss against your lips this time. “Had to take it off, was getting in the way. Don’t worry, buttercup. You’ll like the upgrade.”
Tears streaked down your cheeks as your hands slid across your clavicle, the cold feeling of metal greeting you where skin was meant to be. You couldn’t help but sob when you traced the spot your arm used to be. A metal replacement in its spot instead.
“And, had to fix that knee of yours up too. Don’t worry, no more popping.” He laughed, like it was all one big joke, and ripped the blanket off of you. If you hadn’t already let your mind slip away from reality, from the situation, you would have screamed when he showed you the metal limbs where warm flesh and bone should have been.
You nearly threw up when you saw the cruel line of cauterization and blood where he’d fused metal and skin.
He’s quick to get pissed off and touchy about anything he’s passionate about
I don’t recommend criticizing anything to do with his plans on Mother Miranda, regardless of how much he cares for you, he will lash out. He’s cunning and extremely intelligent, he knows how to strike where it hurts.
Were this normal Karl, not one completely hyped up on the powers of the cadou, eventually he would find his own backwards way to apologize. A well timed compliment, a metal flower inspired by your favorite bloom, a trip to the Duke’s.
Yandere Karl will never see the error of his ways. In his mind, everything he does for you, to you, is for your own good. No one else is going to take care of you like he can. He can’t ever risk you leaving him. He’s got it embedded in his brain that if he lets you out of the factory Miranda will find you and she will steal you from him.
You’ve slowly become less of a human and more of a coveted toy the longer he has you.
Imagine the little kid on the playground that takes his ball home so no one else can play anymore.
That’s him (you’re the ball)
No one will remember you existed.
If you were a tourist, your ID, your wallet, anything that can be used to identify you is found on a corpse that burned up in a “car wreck.” The body was burnt beyond recognition, it had to just be assumed it was you, it was your car after all. And no one had ever found you…
If you live in the village, your family, your friends, anyone who ever looked at you with a lick of interest is dead. He kills your family because he doesn’t think they properly took care of you. I mean, for fuck’s sake, he got his hands on you. What else did they let others get away with?
No. No one who disregarded his “love” like that gets to live.
The others are self explanatory. He’s possessive beyond a fault. Even normal, he doesn’t do sharing. No one else gets to enjoy the bright light of your personality.
It’s for him and him alone.
And, no, he doesn’t notice when that light dims. He doesn’t notice the lights go out behind your eyes and the vacant look you carry half the time. He just thinks you finally got used to your life here.
There’s no reasoning with him. No trying to explain how you’re drowning in despair and one more goddamn minute in these shackles is going to make you end it all.
You love being with him. You need him. Without him you would be dead in a ditch somewhere.
We all know, without him, you’d be living your best damn life.
But he doesn’t.
He thinks, despite the torture and the training, you are happy. You’re safe. He’s providing for you, and showing you just how the world can be so you know that he’s the only one who will ever love you. Who else is going to put up with you?
Everyone comes to a breaking point, when you get to yours, you need to either be fast or the next weeks of your life are going to be the worst you’ve ever head.
You successfully get away with a quick slit of a razor, or a noose made of bed sheets, congratulations (not).
You don’t…
At first he doesn’t even know what to do.
No one, fucking no one gets to take you away from him.
Not even you.
It takes a few days to plan something, and the anticipation alone is enough to break you. He’s clever, cunning, and worst of all, really fucking creative. Your mind can’t even conjure up whatever horror he’s got planned for you.
To your surprise, it’s not anything physical.
He’s your only source of human contact, despite everything at this point you do need him to remain marginally sane. He knows that, he uses that.
You’re locked in a room, food given to you without a schedule so you lose track of time.
No windows, a leaky drip coming intermittently from the ceiling. He doesn’t speak, you just hear the scrape of metal and dart forward to scarf down your meal. A tasteless gruel that doesn’t do anything but sustain you.
If Heisenberg hadn’t “updated” you, the drafty air and mildew would probably have finished you off a week ago.
As it is, you can’t get sick anymore, you just lay there in your own filth and the filth that was there before you.
Your mind slips and you’re practically feral by the time he lets you out.
He’ll remold your thoughts, your brain, how you think, around him. Protect you from yourself, he says.
No one gets to hurt you, not even you.
It’s ironic how he’ll never realize the only person whose ever hurt you has been him.
He’s not the type to hurt those who hurt you and keep you safely locked away in an ivory tower all warm and cozy.
He’ll break you and keep going, long past your shattering point. He keeps bending, twisting, and breaking you down until you’re nothing but dust under his boot and a barely there echo of who you used to be.
end. — I do not own the characters or the game Resident Evil Village, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#karl heisenberg x reader#resident evil x reader#Resident evil village x reader#heisenberg x reader#resident evil village#Karl heisenberg#this got away from me lol
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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 9. Tito's Birthday
This is a completed series!
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Chapter Summary: Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.
A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits.
This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI.
Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.
Word count: 4.2k // 44.5k
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Tito’s Birthday
Tito — June 8
Tito's sitting on his parent’s couch, watching his nephew play with a mini stick, when the doorbell rings.
“Were we expecting someone else?” he asks the room.
“Why don’t you go answer the door, Tito?” Francis cuts in.
Tito furrows his brow, confused. “Wha— Why me?”
Francis rolls his eyes, “Just go do it. You’re closer, and we’ve got the kids.”
“Fine,” he huffs dramatically.
He’s still making a face at Francis when he pulls the door open, not even bothering to look through the peephole. He almost immediately slams the door shut. Almost.
“Hi, Tito. Happy birthday,” she says, voice impossibly fond and a soft smile on her face.
Standing in front of him is a vision illuminated by the warm mid-afternoon light. She looks radiant. She looks so happy to see him.
Evie's here. On the porch of his parents' house. In Québec. On his birthday. He wonders if it would be a little overkill to hit himself in the face to make sure he isn’t dreaming or hallucinating.
“Hi. What— How—” he stutters unflatteringly.
Behind him, he hears Francis call out, “Are you going to let her in or what?”
He doesn’t take his eyes off Evie as he shouts over his shoulder, “Shut up, Franky.”
Evie muffles a giggle in her hand. He feels the sound reach into every corner of his body, filling it with a tingling warmth. It’s the buzzing in his bones that finally gets his feet unstuck from where they're planted as he surges forward and wraps her in a tight hug. He feels the little puff of air that's knocked out of her by the force of the hug.
“Woah there, big guy,” she giggles lightly, “Maybe a little less tight, please.”
“Oh shit, sorry,” he pulls back quickly, shaken from his stupor.
She shakes her head and laughs, incandescent and free, her head thrown back, exposing the long line of her neck.
“Come here, you idiot,” she whispers.
Evie steps back into the space between them and wraps her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly. His arms pull her in impossibly closer, one hand tucking her head against his cheek. In this position, her perfume floods his senses, and he feels the vice that has been around his chest since he stepped out of her apartment in April begin to loosen. She smells familiar. She smells like comfort. She smells like home.
“God, I fucking missed you,” he murmurs into her hair.
She hums, nuzzling closer, “Me too, Solours. It’s so good to see you.”
“I can’t believe you’re here, mon chou. How did you even get here? Or know where to find me?”
She shifts in his arms, leaning back slightly to look him in the eyes. The sight of her warm brown eyes makes him feel like melted chocolate. She smiles softly at him. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Okay, yeah.”
He chuckles. He turns to escort Evie inside, keeping her tucked neatly under his arm. He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Francis leaning against the wall a couple feet away.
“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” Francis smirks.
Tito shoots him a warning glare as Evie gently steps out from under his arm.
“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” she says, shocking Tito.
“You too.” Francis pulls Evie into a brief hug, still smiling smugly at Tito.
When Evie turns back around to him, he shakes himself from his stupor.
“Wait… you did this?” he asks, looking at Francis, who shrugs.
“I mean, I guess. Technically, she’s the one who came here, but I helped. As I’ve said many times, your moping has been such a bummer.”
“Do Mom and Dad know about this?” he adds.
Francis shrugs, “Kind of? I told them there might be a guest joining us.”
Evie chuckles next to him, bumping her shoulder into him, “Wow, you're really surprised, aren’t you?”
“Well, I mean, yeah?”
“You thought I was going to miss your birthday? Come on, Tito. There was no way I was doing that.” She smiles up at him, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other applying gentle pressure on his chest.
“I mean, I had hoped, but I really did think— I didn’t want to assume—”
“Okay, this is getting nauseating for me,” Francis interrupts, “Come on, let’s introduce you to everyone.”
She greets his parents and sister-in-law warmly and crouches down so sweetly to say hello to his nephews. He feels breathless, heartbeat quickening as he watches her greet them.
Evie slots in so seamlessly with his family it makes his head spin. He watches her make easy conversation with both of his parents, both of them falling in love with her immediately. Karo and Francis seem to have already decided they like her. Even if they hadn’t, she would've won them over with the way his two-year-old nephew, Nate, becomes immediately enthralled by her, following her around everywhere. Tito can’t even blame the little guy. He understands how Nate feels.
He feels guilty, though, for the slight edge of irritation that builds in his gut; he just wants to bask in her undivided attention after so many weeks apart. He tries to push the feeling away in favor of the fondness that also grows in him as they sit at the dinner table as a family.
It's that idea, a yearning for an uncertain future, that hits him so hard in the center of his chest that it knocks the breath out of him. He excuses himself at the end of dinner to make an escape for the bathroom, where he just stands at the sink and catches his breath.
When he finally returns, the group has scattered for now. Francis and his parents are putting the kids to bed. Karo and Evie are putting the finishing touches on dessert. He goes looking for them.
Every cell in his body alights when he hears a truly filthy sound fall from Evie’s lips as he rounds the corner.
Evie —
“I don’t know if we should add the caramel sauce on top or if it’ll be too much,” Karo explains, “Here, try a piece with the sauce; tell me what you think.”
“Sure,” Evie says, reaching out to take the fudgy brownie in her fingers— a big mistake as the chocolate starts oozing out immediately, intermingling with the caramel and trickling down her fingers.
She takes a hurried bite and is immediately hit by the ambrosial flavor: thick, decadent dark chocolate and perfectly balanced salted caramel drizzle. It's so rich, coating her tongue.
She doesn’t even try to contain the long, deep moan that she lets out. Her mouth is still full when she says, “Oh my god, Karo. This is incredible. This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Karo beams at her in response, clearly pleased.
“What’s going on in here?” she hears Tito’s deep voice grumble behind her. It makes her freeze on the kitchen stool.
“She’s trying the dessert, confirming whether we should put on the drizzle or just skip it,” Karo beams.
“And? What are we thinking?” he says, voice still pitched low as he places a firm hand on the small of her back. She doesn’t stop herself from leaning into it.
“Oh, yes, for sure. It's so good.” Evie’s not sure if it’s the richness of the dessert that makes her mouth dry or if it's the firmness of Tito’s warm body pressing against her leg and side.
His other hand reaches out and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the remaining piece of brownie, making her look up at him over her shoulder. She watches his eyes flicker over to Karo, who's plating the desserts, before leaning in.
“Are you going to eat that?” he murmurs against her ear.
“Uh, maybe? Did you wanna try it?” she croaks, feeling suddenly too hot in her thin sundress.
“Yes.”
He makes eye contact with her again before bringing her fingers up to his lips. She’s holding her breath as soon as he makes contact. She's consumed by the groan he makes when the brownie hits his tongue, the sound enveloping her from every direction, completely unable to look away from him even when she hears a little “holy shit” from Karo as she scurries out of the kitchen.
He releases her fingers with a pop before the corner of his lips ticks up. “Mmm… So fucking good,” he smirks.
She squeaks, unable to form a single word as she wonders how inappropriate it might be to just jump him in his parents’ kitchen.
Before she can even do anything, though, he disappears from her side, and her skin immediately misses the contact. He walks over to the sink and wets a paper towel before walking back around, taking her hand in his again. She can only watch as he gently cleans the chocolate, caramel, and spit from her fingers.
He makes a satisfied hum and goes to throw the napkin away when he’s done, leaving her to wonder what the fuck she’s supposed to do with that hand now.
She jumps when she hears Francis loudly say behind her, “Okay, you freaks. My wife has informed me you guys are desecrating this kitchen, so get out before you ruin all of our appetites. I want to be able to enjoy this supposedly orgasmic dessert.”
Evie’s unsure how she’s going to be able to go back to the dining table and sit next to his parents now. She’s also not sure if her voice is ever going to come back at this rate.
Later, after the candles and singing and dessert, Evie's feeling a little more levelheaded. She still blushes every time Karo or Francis catches her eye, but she's able to speak again, so that’s a win.
They are moving to the TV room to watch the Stanley Cup Final game when Tito catches her elbow.
“Hey,” he smiles at her tenderly.
“Hi.” She automatically smiles back.
“Do you want to go for a walk first?”
“Oh…sure,” she stammers, heartbeat quickening again.
He places a soft kiss on her forehead before going to notify his family. When he comes back, he takes her hand and pulls her gently outside into the calm evening air. They walk for a while, hand in hand, just letting themselves take in the soft sound of insects chirping, the light breeze rustling through the trees, and the bright stars appearing above, one by one.
She’s the first to break. “God, it’s so quiet and beautiful here. I can’t believe you got to grow up with this,” she whispers, her head tilted back, lost in the twinkling stars.
He hums, his hand squeezing hers lightly in acknowledgment. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
They walk for a few more minutes in comfortable silence, the weight of his hand in hers pressing to the front of her consciousness. She really likes the way it feels.
When they turn the last corner, she gasps at the sight before her. It’s a small park backing up onto the riverbank. The water glistens, reflecting the soft lights of the city across from them.
“There,” Tito says softly, “I wanted to show you this.”
He pulls her over to a bench near the water and sits down. He holds her hand in his lap, his thumb caressing gently.
“It’s beautiful, Solou.” She looks out with wonder.
“Yeah,” he sighs, “I always come here if I want to think.” There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “Mon chou, I’m so happy you’re here. I don’t even know how to— I just— I can’t believe you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“I have to ask, though, why?” His voice is so quiet she can barely make out the words.
Evie draws in a deep breath. She knew this conversation was coming. She was hoping that it did. That doesn’t stop it from feeling any less daunting.
“The short story?” she starts, “I just fucking missed you so much.”
He chuckles, “Yeah, chouchou, me too. I literally could not stop thinking about you. Constantly.”
She squeezes his hand while her other hand caresses the necklace that has been hanging over her heart for two months.
“I just kept thinking… I couldn’t imagine one single universe where I wouldn’t be here for your birthday. I couldn’t think of a single reason why I should not be here and at least a hundred reasons why I should.”
“Yeah?” he whispers.
“Yeah.” She looks over at him to find him already watching her, his eyes bright and glossy. She chuckles breathlessly. “And it’s so stupid that I kept putting off this conversation because I was scared of what you might say when you've never given me any reason to be scared. You've always listened to me and been so kind and understanding, no matter what. You’ve never made me feel bad for whatever insane thing I’m feeling at that moment. You just somehow find a way to support me through it.
“I don’t know what either of our futures holds, but I think that— I think my fear was holding me back. My life's just infinitely better with you in it, and it gets increasingly hard to imagine living it without you. You make me a better person— You make me want to be a better person.
“I should’ve just told you how I felt. Because even if you didn’t feel the same way, you would never have judged me for it. Or stopped being my friend.”
“What are you saying, Evie?” Tito urges gently.
“I’m saying that— I’m saying that I don’t think we're just friends. I don’t think we’ve been just friends for a long time. And I like that— I want that. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, and I want to be the person you come home to at night. But I just thought— I knew I would regret it if I never said this. Like, if I woke up one day and it was too late. That you’ll be gone, and I would still feel this absolutely horrific gut-wrenching sadness and regret at having never said anything. I don’t— You don’t need to say anything back right now— or at all, really, but I just—”
“Evie, mon chou, may I?” He takes her other hand in his as well, threading their fingers together and pressing a light kiss to them so gently.
“Yeah,” she nods, smiling softly up at him.
“Okay, good because— I need you to know that I—” His voice cracks, the words catch in his throat. He looks at Evie’s smile and feels his throat loosen. He takes a deep breath. “Evie, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. God, I want— I want to be there in the mornings, and I want you to be there when I come home because I think the concept of home in my brain now is just a scratch-and-sniff picture of you—”
Evie snorts.
“Shut up, that was romantic— Let me finish. I don’t want to be just friends. I want to be so much more than that. I want to be your boyfriend, your partner, and maybe one day, your husband if you’ll have me. And I want to maybe have little babies that are half of me and half of you if that’s what you want. Or we can just have like twenty dogs; that’s cool too. I want to be holding your hand on the ice when we’re too old to even tie up the skates.”
He pauses and exhales all the remaining tension in his chest. “I want it all. I want to be there for all the big moments and the little moments. I want to make you tea and rub your cold-ass feet while we watch TV. I want to dance with you in our kitchen when you’re baking. I want—
“I don’t know where I’ll be next season. But I want to make it work with you. Whatever that looks like. I want to give this a shot. And I promise I’ll put in the work every single day. Even if I’m in fucking Edmonton or Anaheim.”
“I don’t think Anaheim would appreciate being compared to Edmonton, Solou,” Evie laughs wetly, reaching a hand up to wipe at her eyes before placing her hand back into his grasp. “Can I speak now?”
“What? Yes, of course. Sorry. I got carried away,” he chuckles nervously.
“Well, firstly, my job is fully remote. So I can technically live anywhere—”
“I don’t want you to have to choose me over your career,” he interrupts.
“I’m not. I promise. But we can talk through logistics at another time. For now, I just want to say that I fucking love you too. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. And I’m also incredibly fucking sure that if you don’t kiss me in the next five seconds, I will self-combust, and all this idiocy would’ve been for nothing.” Her smile is dazzling and proud when she looks up at him.
It startles a chortle out of him, and he shakes his head. He raises a hand to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of her cheek. His eyes flicker between her eyes and her lips a few times, an adoring smile blooming on his face as he leans in. She moves to close the distance.
Their lips meet in a tender kiss. Their mouths move gently together, content to just be for a while. Eventually, Tito’s tongue brushes along the seam of her lips, and her mouth drops open, letting him in. The familiar heat returns to her like a freight train coursing through her veins as their tongues slide past each other.
Without breaking their kiss, Evie climbs into Tito’s lap and threads her hands through his hair. A pleased hum escapes her lips when she gives the curls a gentle tug, Tito rewarding her with a clipped groan of his own. She sinks deeper into his lap, feeling his big hands rake down her back to cup her ass lightly.
She rolls her hips down, and he moans before pulling away.
“No— wait—” he groans.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need to stop. I’m not doing this for the first time on a park bench, and I’m sure as hell not going to let you make me come in my pants again. Franky will literally never let me live that down.”
She tucks a curl behind his ear and hums. “Hmm… So should we go back to the house then?”
“No— Well, I mean yes. But we're also definitely not doing this for the first time in my parents' house. While my parents and brother are there.” He shakes his head vigorously and dramatically shudders.
“Okay,” she sings. She leans back in for a final kiss before climbing off Tito’s lap. She pulls down her dress as he groans again, pressing his face into her belly. “What?”
“Do you have any idea how incredible you look in that dress?” he mumbles, muffled by fabric and her skin.
“I think I do, actually. I thought you had a stroke when I put it on for you a couple weeks ago on FaceTime.”
He leans back to examine her face. “So you’re wearing this one on purpose?” he concludes, voice pitching up an octave.
“Yeah,” she smiles proudly and holds out her hand, “You sure you don’t want to just go in the back of my car real quick.”
He groans loudly as he stands, his hands firm on her waist. “God, mon chou, I— Fuck. No. I’m not going to— We're not having sex for the first time in a car, Evie. Jesus Christ.”
“Oh? And where will we be having sex for the first time? I want to make sure it’s on my calendar.”
He grumbles and starts pulling her back to his parents' house. “Tomorrow. When we're back in the city. In my apartment.”
“Oh yeah? And when are we leaving for this apartment?”
“As soon as possible in the morning,” he replies, clipped.
She laughs devilishly before allowing a calm silence to settle over the walk home. When they start to approach the Beauvillier home, he unlocks her rental car and leans in to grab her bags for her. She lets him catch her shamelessly admiring his body.
When their eyes meet again, she cheekily teases, “So, you’ll fuck me for the second time in a car then?”
Tito hums too loudly, exaggerating his ponderous expression. “Hmm, I’m thinking maybe it’ll be the fifth time. But yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”
She chortles. “Wow, so confident,”
He looks over at her and winks. “Yeah, I am,” he calls over his shoulder as he unlocks the front door.
When they walk into the living room, Francis takes one look at them before he cracks up. Evie feels her cheeks flame immediately as Tito shrugs.
Their mom looks at Tito meaningfully. “If you're going to bed soon, the guest room is set up already, honey.”
It only makes Francis laugh harder, and their dad also joins in on the hooting. Evie wishes the ground would just swallow her up, even as Tito tucks her tighter to his body proudly.
Tito — June 9
The following day, Tito wakes up with the biggest smile on his face. It doesn’t even flicker once as he puts on his pajamas and heads downstairs into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mama,” he greets cheerily, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“You’re in a good mood this morning,” she chuckles, “Something you have to tell me?”
He fusses around the kitchen, putting the kettle on. “Yeah, I guess, um… We worked it out. Last night.”
“So she’s your girlfriend now?” his mom asks, eyes glistening as she sips her coffee.
“Yes, Mama. She is,” he beams at her.
“Good,” she nodded, “You take care of her like I taught you to, okay? She’s a good one. I like her.”
“Yes, Mama, I will,” he replies, voice impossibly tender.
He revels in the comfortable silence as he makes two cups of tea. The aroma of Earl Grey fills him with so much lightness and joy he feels like he’s floating. It hits him in that moment why this particular tea has been affecting him so much.
Tito tiptoes into the guest bedroom and sets the tea down on the nightstand. He sits on the side of the bed and smiles as he brushes the hair out of Evie’s face before leaning down to kiss her forehead.
She stirs, making a pleased sound when she sees him, her face splitting into a crooked grin.
“Good morning, mon chou,” he leans in for a kiss.
She squeaks and leans away, shaking her head. “Morning breath,” she mumbles.
“Chou, I couldn't care less right now as long as I get to kiss you again. To make sure last night was not a dream.”
She giggles, and rolls her eyes before pulling him in by the collar of his hoodie. He kisses her tenderly on the lips before nuzzling into her neck.
“Did you know you smell like Earl Grey tea?” he mumbles into the soft, intoxicating skin.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. That’d be my favorite perfume. It’s got that scent profile.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whines.
She chuckles softly, “I didn’t think about it, I guess? Why should I have told you?”
He looks up and pouts, “I would’ve bought it much sooner.”
She laughs, shaking her head, pulling him in again to kiss the pout off of his full bottom lip.
“Oh,” she says, leaning over to the nightstand, “I forgot to give this to you last night. Happy birthday, Solou.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know, I wanted to. Open it!”
He recognizes the packaging immediately and furrows his brows in confusion. When he opens the box, he sees a gold chain with a single charm.
“It matches mine.” She touches her necklace reverently. “But instead of the book, it’s a library card. Do you like it?”
He rests their foreheads together. “Yes, chouchou. I love it. I really love it. But you're still the best birthday present I've ever gotten and will probably ever get. So, thank you for both those things.”
“God, you're truly so fucking soft,” she giggles before pulling him on top of her with a bruising kiss.
“Well… I’m not gonna be soft for much longer if you keep doing that,” he mumbles when she nibbles on his lips.
“Tito!” she squawks, slapping his chest, laughing.
He shrugs, trying to keep a straight face but finding her laugh to be too infectious.
“God, I fucking love you,” he whispers in wonder, his eyes scanning her face when they finally calm down.
“I love you too,” she smiles.
It hits him finally that no matter what happens after July 1st, no matter what city he ends up in, he will be okay because he has her.
That is the end!!! If you are reading this, you are truly a prince among men. Thank you so much. <3
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the road ahead l chapter one sneak peek
a/n 📝 so, I am back to full on writing after taking a few days off! chapter one of TRA is almost complete, and I am hoping to have it posted next weekend. it could be posted earlier, but I just want to give myself the few extra days because I am also working on a couple of other things and it will be nice to have that cushion of extra time. okay, enough babbling. I posted one preview already, but because the first chapter is going to be hefty (5k words so far and counting) here is one more sneak peek before I drop this series (ah I am nervous asf)
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“Christ, I can’t fucking stand it,” You mumbled out in complete and utter misery as you paced around back and forth in the downstairs guest bedroom—the heart wrenching sound of Gracie’s wailing and her pleading could be heard throughout the entire two story house. If you listened close enough, you could also hear the sound of Bill and Frank’s softly muffled voices trying to calm her down.
Letting out a heavy sigh, you glanced over at Joel; he’d been sitting at the foot of the bed with a hard and stony expression on his face. He hadn’t said a single damn word to you all evening after the both of you had finally settled yourselves into the guest room for the night. It terrified the hell out of you to think Joel was beginning to shut himself away. He was slipping back into his old, shitty way of coping and it worried you, because not only were you two about to make a dangerous trip across the United Stated with a child, but now you would be making the trip with two children in tow.
And one of those two children happened to be his daughter—his daughter with you.
Needless to say, it just wasn’t the fucking time for him to shut you out. Not now.
“Do you think she even understands what they’re tellin’ her?” Joel questioned you quietly. He was gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that his knuckles had gone ghost white.
“She sure as hell understands that after tomorrow she’s never going to see the people who raised her ever again,” You stated, crossing your tightly over your chest as you continued to pace. You exhaled a small, trembling breath and tried your hardest to keep your composure as her cries grew louder.
“We can’t fuckin’ do this,” Joel told you. His voice was tight, strained. “We can’t take her with us.”
“You heard Frank, Joel. What other fucking choice do we have?”
He hesitated. “Well, there is another choice.”
You stopped mid-pace and looked at him.
Already, you knew you were not going to like what was about to come out of his mouth.
“And what would that other choice be, Joel?” You asked him rigidly, your arms still crossed.
“I take Ellie and we go find Tommy in Wyom—”
You didn’t even let him finish. “No.”
Joel tried again. “You take Gracie and you go back to Bost—”
“No.”
He glared at you. “Can you let me fuckin’ talk?”
“No,” You said for the third time. “Listen to me, we are not splitting up. Not a fucking chance in hell.”
“You have to go back. It might not be ideal, but it’s safer than her bein’ out there,” he reasoned.
You scoffed. “You killed a fucking FEDRA soldier. I go back without you and without Tess—and with a fucking three year old? They’ll take her away and I get the fucking rope. They will hang me, Joel. Not only will they hang me, those bastards will do it in front of the entire QZ and make an example out of me. Is that what you want to happen?”
Joel gripped the mattress even tighter at the mere thought of it. “You really fuckin’ askin’ me that?”
Dropping your arms back down to your sides, you walked over and knelt down in front of him. “Look Joel, we stick together, alright? We’re not splitting up, no matter what. Do you understand me?” You placed a hand over one of his and he stiffened. “It might not be what you want, but sticking together is what’s best for Ellie and it’s going to be what is best for Gracie. She’s our daughter. She needs us now.”
Joel’s lips pressed together in a thin, tight line.
“Joel, don’t you pull away from me. Not now,” You whispered up at him. “Please.”
But it was too late.
You could see it in his eyes—he already had.
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A nonexhaustive list of creepypasta x reader ideas ive had over the years and will never write. Please feel free to steal them and write them.
Red Eye
Coffee shop + slender mansion au. Yn is a lone night shift barista. The creepypasta(s) of your choice comes in every night for a red eye right before closing. Gotta fuel up before chasing down idiots who wandered in the woods.
Anyone whos worked customer service has felt a little homicidal before. After weeks of dealing with a shitty customer who management has done nothing about, yn takes matters into their own hands. By smashing their head in with a stovetop expresso maker. The creepypasta sees this though yn is unaware. Expecting them to be like any other human, the pasta thinks the next time the shop’s open yn wont be there. They’ll probably turn themselves in. Whatever.
But there’s no break in business for investigation and yns working there the next night. Upon realizing yn cleaned up the scene and is going on like nothing happened, the pasta’s interest is thoroughly peaked. Especially when another shithead customer gets brained a few weeks later. Realizing there’s a new serial killer in town, the pasta is more than interested but infatuated.
Dead by Daylight
Slender mansion au + Splendorman
Slenderman had proxies that hunted and killed but what about Splendorman? Had always been the opposite of his stuffy older brother. When visiting after his domain collapses, he brings along his proxies. To which slender’s housemates/proxies were unaware existed.
Splendor’s proxies are different. They don’t kill to feed him. They survive to feed him. Splendor puts them in near constant mortal peril for his own entertainment and sustenance. Be it randomly spawning them in the wilderness, sending random attackers after them, or straight up slicing off limbs. Most of his proxies don’t last a week. But yn has for years. Grizzled and exhausted, yn is a ruthless survivalist. They to keep the others alive but those stupid assholes never listen. There’s maybe one or two other proxies but they’re just this weeks cannon fodder.
Splendor convinces Slender to let their proxies play. AKA “Hey! Your proxies should hunt mine down and try to kill them! Who ever has the best proxies wins this (slenders domain). Wouldn’t that be funny!” Except the game is contained to be only inside the vast slender mansion.
Fun dynamics ensue. Cat and mouse. Splendor has a time out twice a day for a few minutes. Which really makes things awkward when a pasta is about to kill yn and they have to let them go because breaking the rules on their end means death. Ensue awkwardly eating lunch in the same room after trying to kill eachother. Okay, time outs over. Yns already gone.
A rivalry esc romance blossoms from there. They def hatefuck.
Meat Is Me
EJ x reader
Life hadn’t gone the way you wanted. Now you were working as a mortuary assistant. Work was gruesome but not that bad. Until money gets tight at work and you’re alone, finishing cleaning up after the boss went home. Strange people come into the mortuary, family, with fists full of cash to spend just another hour with their loved one alone.
Afterward, you don’t think that was a family member but you’ve made one month’s rent in a single night. He keeps coming back. He tells other freaks. They come in the night when you’re alone. You have to hide the things they do to the bodies from your boss. Sometimes they take pieces. But at least your pockets are well lined. It was almost worth it until he came in.
He hid his face. You thought he was more shameful than the other necro-freaks. When you go to check on the body after he’s had his time with it. Fuck. He’d re-opened the chest cavity you so skillfully sewn shut post-autopsy. Everything was fucking gone. Worst of all? He skipped on paying you.
You manage to hide it from the boss. But he keeps coming back. He keeps taking more and more. You can’t go to the cops about him skimping your cash, you weren’t doing the most legal shit either. But you were too pussy to do anything about it. Especially after you walked in on one of his sessions and found a gray-fleshed monster eating strings of tendon from the body.
How the hell are you going to get out of this one?
The Archive
Just a magnus archive au where yn is John and the creepypastas are the fears. Think about it ok.
#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta#creepypasta fic#creepypasta headcannons#rea talks#writing#not minor safe#eyeless jack
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hi vincent u shd tell us more abt haruka n shu's dynamic i love toxic codependency btw
HELLO LAB!!! I am so happy you asked because I am obsessed with them. I will put this under a read more ….it got long
To explain why I think they should have a fucked up toxic relationship I should explain a bit about them individually. My Haruka post can be found here but to summarize some important points: Haruka has a fucked up relationship with his brother Kanata, who ostracizes him from anyone he meets. He thinks of himself as a corrupted human, an “egoist” who was once his brother’s hero and wanted to help others, and now has no hope of going back to how the way things used to be. Shu is an abandoned child who’s never been shown even a speck of love by his parents or those who have been assigned to take care of him. The one person who saw a spark of light in Shu instilled false hope for his father’s love inside of him, and accidentally turned him into a bitter kid who hates adults.
Shu and Haruka are the vocalists of Epsilon, which is actually the only band to even have two vocalists who consistently sing together. Pre-epsilon story 6.5, Haruka doesn’t endorse Shu’s shitty behavior but doesn’t shut it down either. Shu uses Haruka as he does anyone else and finds him entertaining to observe. Both of them are pessimists who use music to make themselves known, to be seen— Haruka, to his peers, Shu, to his father, and both of them to the world. Haruka realizes this before Shu does, in Epsilon band story Chapter 6 Episode 5: aka vincent insanity chapter. I will just put some screenshots here of the chapter because i don’t wanna summarize them
This chapter completely changes their dynamic— it opens up a door to a whole new world of understanding between them. Now, they have no choice but to be at least somewhat involved in each other’s decisions. In this chapter, Haruka openly declares that he needs Shu to keep his dream alive, because he knows that they both know that music is all they have to get themselves known. They can’t just ignore each other anymore with this information. If they do, it adds a whole new layer of questioning— are they uncomfortable around each other, regretful about that sudden vulnerability, etc ? So, that’s all been established.
What Shu needs is a supportive, probably older brother or father type figure who can show him love and recognition, right? What Haruka needs is both a support system and someone to pull his head out of the ground and make him face reality, right ….? But like …imagine how much more fun it would be …if they fed off of each other like this ….my vision
I think that IF I WERE WRITING AASIDE. I would use this so much. I would love to see Haruka and Shu run off to stay in Tokyo and live this shut in lifestyle where Shu tries to write songs to sustain them and Haruka tries not to fuck up another relationship. Shu could absolutely fill that “younger brother I want to save” role for Haruka, and Haruka could absolutely fill that “First person to recognize me for who I am” role for Shu (except not really because they’re just using each other). Of course, though, I am not writing Aaside…with the recent development of Aoi being Shu’s brother and Reiji being much more kind than I expected (effectively creating a support system for Shu), this whole vision kind of goes down the drain, rip. But I like to think they’ll still go somewhere with Haruka and Shu’s newfound dynamic potential! Please god let Kimisute make them even more fucked up and depressed.
Thank you so much for this opportunity to ramble Lab….this is all kind of a lot of nothing and just restating facts but I enjoy it nonetheless. Here is Epsilon’s first song, isn’t the video so fun? I hope you enjoyed reading this ^o^
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WHG 19 Prompt 5 Iggy
It took me a long time, but I finally wrote the next part! Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout, @clocksandchaos, @knmartinshouldbewriting, and @forthesanityofsome!
I stared at the chariots. I was told to stand, that I didn’t need a seat like the other humans. The costumes…were interesting. Some of them were beautiful! And others were concerning. And others were downright hard to look at because of the clashing colors. When President Snow started speaking, I paid attention to him. He was lying.
Once everyone clapped, someone approached me. “C13SO, I have a task for you.” I looked around, and it was Esha. She frowned at me. “Malice Andalori, one of your tributes, is required for something the Capitol wants to do. If they agree to this, they won’t have to go into the Hunger Games and get forced into it. Try to convince them, if you can.”
I stared at her. So, it was most likely true, what Mal had said. That the Capitol wanted to use them as a weapon. I just nodded, and Esha turned around and left.
I thought about what she had said as I walked to where the chariots ended up, what she had basically confirmed for me. I was a replacement for humans when they were going to die. The best thing I could do was hope Chess could get them to safety. It didn’t matter what happened to me. I just needed Sabre and Mal to be safe.
I finally found them, and they were talking to each other. I tilted my head at their clothes. I hadn’t been able to look closely at them before this. “Are your stylists not good?”
Sabre looked over and grinned at me. “They’re fucking terrible. My stylist hates how I look and got mad when he couldn’t cut my hair, and Mal’s decided making them look like the canary in the cage was a good costume. So, we swapped shirts!” She looked so proud of herself, wrapping an arm around Mal’s shoulders, and even they were smiling.
I couldn’t help but smile too. “Let’s head up to the suite.” I ushered them along, and Sabre wrapped an arm around my shoulders once we got into the elevator. I froze for a bit, loving the touch but still unsure if it was ok for them to be so casual with me. I bowed my head. “Mal, um, a Celestial named Esha talked to me and told me to convince you to agree to what they want.” I hesitated as they looked over at me with a frown. “I have now told you, so I would like to say that I don’t think you should take their offer.”
They looked down at the ground too. “I’m…I’m worried I won’t have a choice.”
I looked over at them, trying to figure out how to guarantee that they wouldn’t, but there was no way to guarantee that. Even if Chess turned out to be a perfect option. There was no way to promise.
Sabre just hugged Mal closer. “I’ll be there too. I’ll make sure they don’t take you. No worries.” She grinned crookedly.
They frowned. “But if they find out about you, they’ll find out a way to hurt you. They’re…” They swallowed hard. “The Celestials are terrifyingly powerful. My parents forced me to go to an execution where they were the executioners, and their powers are terrifying.” They squeezed their eyes shut. “I don’t want them to hurt anyone else either.”
Sabre nodded and leaned down to kiss their temple. “But I want to help you.” She looked over at me with a soft smile. “Both of you. You’re the first friends I’ve had in a long time.” She leaned down and kissed my temple too, and a high pitched whine escaped my lips. “We’re all making it out of this alive, okay?”
I nodded, unsure if I could, but maybe…Mal also nodded, wiping at their eyes. “Thank you. I’d…I’d like that.”
Sabre hugged us both closer, and I settled into the touch. She was so soft and warm, and I couldn’t imagine a better sensation than a hug.
*
It was around midnight that we were to meet Chess. Mal and Sabre didn’t want to talk, so they just hid and watched as I walked onto the roof and found someone standing near the edge, looking out at the Capitol. She was only a few inches shorter than me, but she looked terribly confident as she turned around with a smirk on her face. She had dark pink eyes, freckles all over her face, and wavy, bright green hair that went halfway down her thighs. She…she was stunning. Not in a romance kind of way, but her aesthetic was amazing. I couldn’t help but stare for a bit, my scanners confirming she was indeed Chess.
“You’re Iggy, correct?” She looked like she already knew the answer as she walked forward and held out her right hand to shake, and I just noticed that she had a prosthetic arm. Wow! Amazing!
I nodded. “Yes, and you’re Chess?”
She bowed with a flourish. “The one and only! Well, I assume.” She snickered and stepped back a bit. “And you’re still intent on as many tributes as possible escaping?”
I nodded. “Yes, and I heard that you’ve escaped from the arena before?”
She nodded too. “I’m experienced in it. And also in being a big pain in the ass to the Capitol. So, I’m always up for the challenge.” She winked. “I must admit, I was a little concerned about the battle android the Capitol commissioned finding me, but I know the person who made you, and she had nothing but good things to say about you, so I’ll go ahead and trust you. Doesn’t help that you’re cute.” She winked again, and I tilted my head. I was cute? Why?
But I smiled anyway. She was going to help! And she wasn’t lying, at least from what I could tell from my scanners. “Thank you! What resources do you have?”
She shrugged. “Most anything you’d like.” She grimaced a little. “Well, the people I know who have a hovercraft are far away right now, so I can look for another one, and you can look for one too. But other than that, I have an apartment that’s absolutely safe from the Capitol, and some tools to sabotage the Capitol from the outside while you work on the inside. All you’ll need is to figure out how to escape.”
There had to be a way! The tributes had some odd magic abilities. Someone had to be able to help escape! I nodded. “That sounds fair. However, is there a way to prove you’re not lying? I know that’s difficult to ask, and I do trust you, but still.”
She nodded and smirked. “I would have been concerned if you had just blindly trusted me. Here. An offering. It doesn’t prove that I’m not lying, but it’s information that the Capitol definitely doesn’t want to get out, and I think you’ll find it very enlightening. I stole it from the Capitol a few months ago. Hope it’ll be enough to convince you.” She held out a USB drive, and I scanned it. There were no viruses on the USB.
I took it and nodded, pocketing it. “Thank you. That’ll help. And I’ll keep in touch with updates.”
She grinned and nodded. “Me too. I hope you have a good night with your tributes who are totally behind the bush and behind the wall.” I sensed Mal and Sabre walk out sheepishly, and I laughed a little. She saluted me and left. She disappeared from my sensor, and I looked around, but she was gone.
I turned back to Sabre and Mal. “What do you think?”
Sabre sighed. “She’s our best chance. And I think she isn’t lying. I’ve heard of her before, and the Capitol is definitely looking for her. She’s pissed them off so often, there’s no way she’d sell anyone out to them.”
I nodded. “She wasn’t lying, from what I could tell. So, we’ll need to discuss some things.”
Mal still looked nervous, but they nodded. “There’s a chance.”
Sabre grinned and wrapped her arms around our shoulders again. “Yeah! So, let’s go discuss ideas and cuddle!”
We…we could cuddle? My machinery whirred, and I nodded. “I love that idea.” There was a chance, and I’d check out the USB tomorrow to see what Chess had given me.
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How would Terry react if him and beloved were on vacation and paparazzi took a revealing photo of beloved that got put into a magazine? I was watching a video about how horrible paparazzi were towards female celebrities in the early-mid 2000s and it inspired this question lol
Whichever publication did this would be in big trouble. Really big. The vastness of the trouble they're in really depends how disrespectful and sleazy the paparazzi article is. Why do I envision Terry taking major relish in suing people, companies, the press? I really feel he likes that sort of thing. It is sport to him, in a sense. I think he wins cases constantly because he can either afford the best legal team money can buy, because he's ruthless in achieving his end goal (winning), because he will bribe judges, bribe juries and even bribe the ones being sued to step down --- he isn't above seducing and fucking them if that's what works and I feel he's done this on occasion too. Even when he loses though, the consequences are very much miniscule. I imagine he'd have the power to shut down entire magazines, entire chains, businesses --- you name it. He would too. Except, since beloved is undoubtedly upset, so that just won't be enough this time around; he makes a compromise. This magazine is now his, once this court battle is won, because of it is. Under his payroll. And they'll make it up for him by publishing a counter-article called 'Terry Silver's Significant Other (Name and Surname Here) Most beautiful Woman in the World.'
He wants an extremely flattering puff piece for his beloved and he'll get one.
The magazine has no choice but to give him one.
They bullshitted the wrong man.
They’ll accommodate him (and beloved) or he’ll ensure their HQ is turned into a quarry.
With some well-placed marketing, beloved is raised and elevated from being snapped on vacation without consent to Helen of Troy mythical gorgeousness status purely because Terry took the time to legally threaten someone. Of course, other publications probably start writing about 'Tycoons meddling with freedom of expression' and his name pops up in several places, but guess what; articles like that amuse Terry to no end. So, he buys them out as well. Next article? Terry Silver, shining paragon of the free media.' He'll frame that somewhere nice and visible, right next to his 'Dynatox leading the charge in the 'Going Green' Global Campaign' article from 1996 --- not that he's bragging.He enjoys making himself laugh secretly, with practical inside jokes that absolutely aren’t true about him, all while tricking others of his supposed image.
It's good to be rich and abuse one's power.
#terry silver#kk3#cobra kai#yandere#tw; corruption#tw; bribery#tw; non-consensual photographing#tw; dubious ethics#terry silver x reader#terry silver x beloved
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what are your thoughts about the portrayals of the crows on the show? i just started it after loving the books and i’m having a lot of feelings
ok bear with because it’s been a while since I’ve seen it all the way through 😅
personally I really enjoyed it! I had so much fun, adored the fucking around and the vibes, was Not expecting Jesper to end up getting off halfway through but! Cest la vie
I think that the writing and actors really understood the crows in the sense that they took this bonkers scenario that is outside of canon but slotted the kazpernej trio into it so well that it still works super well. They’ve very clearly researched their characters and know them - like the scene W Kaz and Jesper walking along the streets; kit young has Very Clearly understood that Jesper has adhd & acts him as a man that gets distracted/wanders around when he shouldn’t? It’s very detailed and builds the show characters up with the depth that book characters have. Also on the kazpernej side of the show: it was very much not faithful to canon (obviously) but I think it was adapted in a way that understood the source material well enough that it’s still done very well. Like it’s faithful not in plot but in character/tone
On the other: I really enjoyed that most of the helnik was…. Pretty much entirely faithful/word for word? As above, the show is very much not a faithful adaptation in that it’s exact, but they clearly do pick key scenes and I think that that’ll be really fun with stuff that chronologically sits in s2 (obvs I mean the wesper first meeting bc there is a blueprint in the book! And I think they’ll go off it closely and that it’ll be v good).
(I do have questions about narrative choices they made ie giving Inej a brother but 🤷♂️ I can be patient)
also I know some folks weren’t a fan that the show aged them up but I personally think that suits it So Much Better. Like so much better oh my god. It’s a big budget show on a mainstream platform, and if the show had to keep pulling punches on the horrifying things that happen IN THE BOOK to keep audiences (that have minimal context) happy, it would have been a lot less fun. Like the book audience is teens, the show audience was not.
final note I’m mentally preparing myself in the run up to s2 to fight anyone that tries to whine that “kit young isn’t a queer actor!!!1!!!!” while jack wolfe is because you don’t know shit bestie shut up
#other thoughts include: I always thought Rotty was a scrawny little 17 year old so casting a Adult Adult and not another 20 smth was ???#for a show that v much tried to add in diversity I wish they hadn’t fucked up so bad W the body doubles#(if you didn’t know they cast a white body double for amita suman)#I’m v excited by the fact all s2 promo names wylan as wylan Hendriks bc it makes me think we’re getting a Big Reveal in s2#there’s a lot more I could say but that’s the highlight reel#anon#asks#sab netflix
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Ayo... DOM! Deku with a choking and overstim kink. Like the baku AND DekuSquad both thinks that the reader leads the relationship and is top in bed cuz the difference in personalities and PDA. But the reader just goes along with it cuz she knows that it’s the exact opposite and she wanna get fucked fucked. So in the end the next school day they see the reader limping to school and Deku smiling cheeky. Bro Deku makes me😩 May you do a request to that? It’s ok if you won’t 😊
Question of the Day: What nicknames do y'all find not cringy during a steamy moment?
Cursing, squirting
It wasn’t your fault that people viewed you as the one in charge when it came to the sexual side of you and Izuku’s relationship. You were naturally more energetic and rivaled Bakugou in the terms of attitude and prowess, meanwhile, Deku was one of softer energy. Always smiling awkwardly and blushing at every little joke and jab. Very few people have seen Deku in his prime when he is focused on a goal and will do anything to get there. This attitude graciously carried over to his love life, something you were faithfully reminded of on one faithful day.
As usual, You, and the usual majority of class 1-A sat around each other during lunch. Deku being the nerd he was, sat leaning against you while writing something in his notebook, dusting it every so often when the wind blew flowers off the tree above you. An ethical argument between Mineta and Denki is what started the whole ordeal.
“What do you mean, Mineta?! Deku is totally the submissive one in his and Y/n’s relationship, no doubt about it!” Mineta shook his head adamantly. “I’m telling you, dude, it’s the super nice ones you have to worry about.” Denki gasped, offended, “I can’t believe you are saying this right now, have you no shame!”
Jirou rolled her eyes as she had no choice but to listen to the boy’s stupid conversation. “You do know Y/n is sitting right here right?” Based on the wide look on both of their eyes, they did not in fact realize that. Quickly looking at each other with narrowed features they dig in their pockets in order to retrieve their wallets. “20 bucks that say Y/n is topping Deku.” Mineta scoffed, “40 says you’re wrong.” they both shake on it before scooting closer to you. “So Y/n, which one of us is right.”
Looking between the two boys you open your mouth to answer the truth until you feel Deku shift his weight. He was looking at you, everyone was looking at you, all eager to hear who was right. A hand placed subtly on your back makes your smile widen, for a different reason than everyone else would guess. “Well, I can’t exactly say Denki is wrong, but I can’t say that he’s right.”
The blond whines in annoyance, “Oh come on what does that even mean!?!” While his attention is distracted, Mineta snatches the money from his hands, “That means you’re wrong now pay up.” Denki snaps out of his stupor in order to chase after his smaller classmate, “No the hell it doesn’t!” Now, with everyone’s attention being distracted to the slapstick comedy the two ensue, you realize that the hand you previously felt is gone. Deku is back to scribbling away in his notebook, giving you a false sense of relief.
“Man, Snipe is so aggressive when it comes to history!” Kirishima slouches in his chair knocking Bakugou’s hand as he eats out of a Yogurt cup. “Watch it shitty hair!” is the usual response, as the class congregates together. Asui calls you over to show you something but Deku steps in front of you before you fully stand. “Y/n since we have free time right now, I was hoping you could come and help me with something real quick.” He scratched the back of his head and looked over your head.
On the outside, it was just Deku being shy Deku, nothing suspicious about the ever-present blush he always sported was in full bloom. But from your point of view, it was obvious there was a different intent behind those eyes. “We’ll be back guys.” Deku mutters a hand settled comfortably on your waist as you walk out the door. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jirou watching the two of you leave with an eyebrow raised.
Deku guided you down the school halls, thumb rubbing shapes into your side. He said nothing as you walked, only waving and making small conversation with any familiar face you two passed by. After a long time, you two reach an unfamiliar classroom that Deku curiously peeks inside of. “So what are we doing?” “You’ll see.” Deku ushers the two of you inside before closing and locking the door shut. The mood seems to shift almost immediately.
Deku has a lazy smile on his face as he tugs on his school tie, “So what was that conversation you and Kaminari were having earlier?” Your arms tingle with goosebumps, “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” While Izuku talked, his uniform coat is placed neatly on a nearby desk table, the sleeve of his collared shirt was rolled up and out of the way. “Yeah, I figured you would say that, that’s why I wrote it down to help refresh your memory.”
Deku sits down on a desk, motioning you over to him with a twitch of his fingers. A small notebook you hadn’t noticed till now was pulled from his back pocket before being flipped through. When you stood in front of him, his hand resumed its place on your waist so he could pull you much closer. “According to my notes, Kaminari and Mineta were debating on who was in charge of our relationship.” The more he spoke, the more aware you became of his fingers tapping randomly on your back, each touch tickled your spine, “And in response, you encouraged Kaminari’s theory that you were the one in charge.” Deku snapped the notebook closed with one hand before placing it on the other side of your waist forcing you to face him. “Is that right?”
You are silent when Deku’s scarred hands undo your shirt buttons from the bottom up. “I just thought it was interesting that your answer was different from what my memory recalls.” Izuku sucks in a breath when he sees your black lace bra. The fabric covering your chest conveniently hid the faded hickeys he knew he left 3 weeks ago. “Take this off for me?” The soft tone took you off guard making you pause confused as Deku gently tugged off your shirt and tie. He stands up folding your clothes as you fiddle with your bra straps. “I’m done?” You turn around to hand him your bra but squeak out in surprise when his hand grips your neck.
He keeps his hand there as he backs you up, forcing you to sit on the desk he was previously on. “I’m curious….” Deku trails off in his speech, using the time to kiss you deeply, hand never leaving your neck. “Since you are always the one in charge, I figure that maybe I should finally put in the work and make you feel good?” Deku pulls the chair from underneath the desk and sits down, legs spread. “Well, what are you waiting for, come here?” Your stomach flips as you slide off the table, the stale cool air of the classroom makes your skin prickle with goosebumps as Deku faces you the opposite way in order for you to sit comfortably in his lap.
“Deku what if we get caught?” You nervously glance at the classroom door, the lack of a peeking window putting you somewhat at ease. You were the only one exposed and if someone were to come through that door, they would see your half-naked body in all its glory. A hovering hand grabs the ends of your faux locs to pull your head back so he could whisper in your ear. “I’m sure they’ll understand that I’m just trying to pay you back for all my laziness.”
You bite your lips coyly. He was annoyed, you could definitely hear it now from his sarcastic remarks. But that didn’t make you regret your earlier choice, not one bit, and Deku knew that. The real excitement came from seeing how long it would last.
The gentleness returned when he grabbed your chest, massaging and pulling at them for his own enjoyment before releasing them in order to slide down your stomach. As expected he pinches the skin hard between his fingers and then releases before you even have enough time to complain.
“Just relax okay?” Deku places each of your thighs atop of his, successfully spreading your legs apart. You suppressed laughter whenever his fingers grazed your skin just lightly enough that it tickled, there was no need to give him a reason to be more upset. “Wearing briefs again today?”
Your pussy is palmed without restriction as deft fingers rub at the soft cotton protecting it. “Now how am I supposed to get to you now huh?” You knew the unspoken answer, and Deku knew you hated it as he clenched his fingers into the fabric until it ripped, “Oops.” You shook your head pouting at the unfair treatment, “Why do you always have to do that, now I have to be extra careful of my skirt!”
Strike one was raising your voice.
The touch was quick but still ever so stinging. Deku slapped your pussy in response before using his other hand to hold your neck, firmly tipping it up to the ceiling. “If you would have stopped wearing underwear entirely we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you know I like easy access.” The lack of visible reaction meant nothing since you could almost feel the blood rushed to your face. Deku kisses your neck determined to add marks that you could never hide. Your dark skin peppered with purple bruises while Izuku simultaneously rolled your skirt up to your waist.
You were already wet, the small nibbles here and there were enough for your clit to twitch excitedly as Izuku’s fingers danced around it. “Please touch me!” A warm chuckle vibrated from his chest at your desperate plea, “Calm down and relax Princess. I’ll get you where you need to be.” Deku continues to ignore your clit. His fingers, ever precise, slide between your folds in order to collect your arousal. The feeling adds some pleasure but only enough to make you more desperate. “Look at you.”
Deku observed your hips buck every whenever he got close to your clit. The small nerve swelling with blood and begging to be touched, and who would he be to deny that. It was heaven on earth when he finally put pressure on it. “Mhm!” His fingers combined with your wetness as extra lubrication provided the most pleasurable feeling. You wanted to clamp your legs shut and trap him there, but his much thicker thighs kept you wide open and on display.
Deku was never one to do anything half-assed, so while his fingers flicked and pulled at your clit, his other hand got to work. However, your twitching made you clench down whenever his finger barely pushed inside, “You gotta calm down baby, how else am I going to make you cum?” Soft soothing words made you just enough for him to push his index finger inside. Your cunt was tight, warm, and irresistible. The steady pump of his fingers has you closing your eyes as you relax against him like jelly.
Deku knew your pussy like the back of his hand at this point, every ripple, nook, and cranny he knew how to touch in order to make your toes curl. He adds another finger to the mixture, then another, and a fourth one until you are gushing around his digits and onto the floor. You were a slutty mess and no intelligible words could leave your mouth but “please” and “thank you”.
And while exhibitionism was one thing he had no problem with, Deku respected the fact that you would probably not be too keen to it. “You’re being too loud puppy.” Deku retracts his hand in favor of shoving his fingers in your mouth. You could taste yourself as he pushed them in further, rubbing it along your tongue as drool rolled down his forearm.
The sound of his finger fucking your pussy was wet and sticky, It took a large effort on his part to hold you against him every time your back arched away. “I’m cumming!” Your stomach contorted beautifully against his estranged wrist. “There you go.” Izuku kissed on the shell of your ear as you adjusted past your orgasms. “Are you done?”
You turn your head to kiss him, “Yeah..” He nodded, patting your cheek, “That’s good.” Izuku helps you stand up, helping you when you wobbled ever so slightly. You look at him unsure of the constant smile adorning his face, “Now what?” Izuku slouched a little bit more, “Now you get on your knees of course!”
You only have a moment to ponder what he said before a hand on your shoulder is forcing you down to your knees. It was quick enough for you not to feel the pain of your knees slamming down, but not quick enough to see the smirk crossing your initially sweet lover.
He was already hard as a rock when you pulled him out, cockhead with a steady stream of pre coming out the tip. You admired it with a small kitten lick around the edge, pleased when it bobs from your ministrations. “You are taking too long now put it in your fucking mouth.” Your head is pressed down less than gracefully and you are forced to open your mouth less his dick be smeared against your face.
Your mouth spreads as best it could while Deku sheathed all the way down to the base. He pulls out once again as if testing the waters before letting you up for a quick breath. “For someone in charge, you aren’t very good at this.” Deku uses a patronizing finger to wipe stray saliva off your chin before gripping your chin. “Maybe this will help you learn.” Using one hand Deku uses his cock to tap your mouth expectantly. Your mouth opens on reflex and his cock is pushed back in. Deku sighs with satisfaction, “Fuck, your mouth has always been good for this.” The tempo isn’t as bruising as it was in the beginning but it was still harsh.
Tears collected in your eyes ruining the mascara Momo had put on your eyes. Your throat burned from the constant friction and lack of air. “You hear that? This was what you should have said when they had asked you who was in charge.” Deku looked at you, his curly green hair covering his eyes as shook from his arm movement. “Look at those pretty lips.” Deku flinched after you swiped your tongue on the underside of his cock.
His voice sped up in the momentum and pitched in tone, “Y-You tryna make me cum fast huh!?” You bobbed your head faster despite the tight grip on your scalp trying to pull you away, “F-Fuck Y/n stop it!” Izuku’s voice caved and his hips jerked against your chin as he emptied his balls. You wipe your face with a large grin, brown eyes daring green ones. Izuku laughed, “You wanted this huh?” You don’t respond, skin tingling in the thought of what would come next. Deku stared at you, hands gripping his knees as his dick continued to spurt cum. “Fine.”
Deku stands up before dropping to his knees in front of you. Your calves are grabbed and raised until they are placed on his left shoulder. He slides inside of you with little to no resistance and you both groan at the intrusion. “I try to be nice to you.” Your neck is grabbed again with much familiarity, “But you always test my patience.” Deku leans over you to make sure you are listening. His eyes were a light green as sunlight cast itself inside of the classroom. The sound of your hips meeting is sloppy but neither of you are bothered by it.
You moaned as his abdomen rubbed against your clit the faster he went. “Deku!” Your voice is ragged and you’re practically wheezing at this point from the tight grip he has on every inch of your body. “Shut up.” He releases your neck and spreads your legs apart resting each on its respective shoulder. With entranced eyes Izuku watches you suck him in, sneering at how unintentionally greedy you were. The sound of spit startles you as it hits Deku’s cock before being pushed inside you.
You spasm at a particularly hard thrust, you didn’t know what it hit but your spine lit to flames each time it was grazed. “D-Deku!” You reach a hand out near any piece of skin you could reach, switching from his hands to his stomach. It was too much, the feeling of pleasure made it damn near impossible to think. Deku didn’t want you to think. Every time you seemed to think, you always caused him trouble. “I told you to be quiet.” Your mouth is covered almost completely by his hand only giving you the grace of air between his index and middle finger. You cum and you cum hard, so hard that Deku slips out and almost slips into your opposite hole.
Your leg is dragged back and Deku enters you again, this time only focused on himself. You feel him piston in and out of your cunt grunting obscenities as he closed his eyes with bliss. “Come on, I want one more like that. I need you to break for me.” In the distance, you hear the hour bell ring and the sound of students leaving their classroom. You have no energy to warn Deku, not that it would have mattered. Based on the pleasured look on his face and the heightened sound of his whines, the idea of getting caught only made him feel better. “I’m gonna, o-h fuck I’m gonna fucking cum.”
You let out a scream when a thumb finds your clit and your weak hands could do nothing to keep him from forcing another orgasm from you. “Don’t fucking run from it, cum for me puppy, oh god!” He covers your mouth to stifle your noises and that’s when the sensation begins.
The sensation is strange, it starts in your lungs like air before trickling down to your loins. The feeling of holding it back is painful but you still do it for only a moment of sanity. When it releases, it gushes like a waterfall, and for a moment you wonder if you had peed. When Deku feels it, he too is unable to hold back and finally cums inside of you with a reserved grunt when he realizes the danger of discovery.
Wasting no time and feeling no fatigue, Deku moves fast to find his own pants and shirt taking barely any time to pull your skirt down before giving you 4 minutes tops to learn how to breathe again. “Stand up.” You huff as you prop yourself up on your elbow, “You could at least help a girl out after fucking me an inch of my life.” Deku shrugs, “Logically speaking you did this to yourself.” “Logically speaking I should shove my foot up your ass.”
On the way back to class, Deku took pleasure in watching you walk bowlegged. You of course didn’t share the sediment as you did your best to hold in any cum Deku graciously left behind. He opens the door for you and you walk in doing your best to walk right but the limp was clear and true. Bakugou looked bored, the rest had blushes on their faces as you struggled to sit down properly. Denki, of course, was heartbroken as he handed Mineta back his part of the bet. “I told you, dude, it’s always the silent ones.”
From the back of the class, Asui and Jirou shoot each other an impressed look as they eyes the dark lovebites traveling below your shirt collar.
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I had this idea, I dunno if it’s dumb or not, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you! Y’know, cause you seem like you know way more than me about all these mcyt guys and gals? Anyways, I saw that a lot of people headcanon that Shlatt was Tubbo’s dad, and seeing all those dad!Shlatt AUs gave me an idea:
What if after Shlatt’s dead, after things have settled, after Tubbo becomes president and spends most of his time cleaning up the messes and mistakes Shlatt left behind- he discovers he wasn’t Shlatt’s only child. He finds handwritten letters in Shlatt’s files from a distant village, all of them fairly recent, asking him for child support money, or asking him to take “his mistake” with him. But the last letter Tubbo finds is a typed one informing Shlatt that the woman who sent all the previous letters has died, and that he has 1 month to come collect his child, or they’ll become a ward of the state; it’s been roughly 2 and a half weeks since that letter arrived. How would Tubbo react to all of this, and more importantly, would he take on the responsibility of becoming his new sibling’s guardian?
I don’t know how I became the person to come to for this lol. I hope you enjoy!
The Girl with the Horns
Pairings: Brother! Tubbo x Child! F! Reader
Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, Implied Buillying, Swearing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tubbo looked up the old White House building, taking a deep breath before going in. Inside, he immediately scrunched up his nose at the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
“Damn it, dad.” He muttered under his breath before starting to clean up the building.
He said he’d clean the building out himself as his father was the one who trashed it and now was that day. A lot of his presidency was cleaning up Schlatt’s mistakes before he even ran the rest of his new country. He sighed as he put another empty bottle in a trash bag. Schlatt had really lost it running things.
Slowly but surely, Tubbo was able to get the White House to a much cleaner state. He was now in the main office and was searching the drawers for his father's inevitable “secret” booze stashes when he found some handwritten letters tucked in the very back of the drawer. Frowning, Tubbo took them out and saw them all addressed to Schlatt.
Sitting down, Tubbo read the letter on top and his eyes went wide, back going straight as he reread the words before him.
I want money for this child you helped bring into this world!
A child?
The rest of the letter was talking about asking for child support and Tubbo was floored. Quickly, he read the next letter and it was much of the same, demanding Schlatt to take responsibility.
“Holy shit…” Tubbo muttered. “I got…I got a sibling?”
He made his way through the rest of the letters, his heart clenching when the woman writing the letters called his poor sibling a mistake or made stabs at Schlatt.
Then the last letter was a lot more formal. It was stamped with an official seal and dated. Schlatt had opened it as told by the broken seal but had obviously also put the letter back without a care after reading. Tubbo’s breath hitched as he read the letter though.
Dear Mr. Jschlatt:
We are sorry to inform you Miss Trentha has passed in an accident.
Behind, she has left a five-year-old (Y/N), of which in our records has your name on her birth papers. We will give you a month’s time to make a decision; after, we will have no choice but to send (Y/N) to become a ward of the state.
Tubbo quickly looked at the date of when the letter was sent.
“Two and a half weeks!” Tubbo exclaimed as he jumped up. “Shit! What should I do?”
He looked around the office he had spent time cleaning trying to process everything at once, words failing him. In a few short moments, he had found out he wasn’t an only child, that Schlatt hadn’t even looked back at this girl or her horrible mother, and that the sibling he just found out about was going to become a ward of the state! Schlatt had at least been kind enough to Tubbo to let Philza raise him but this child going into the adoption system…
“I-I got to run L’Manberg. There’s so much to do.” Tubbo ran a hand through his hair as he panicked.
But then Tommy’s words echoed in his head.
You can’t become the next Schlatt.
Schlatt was obviously going to let this child fend for themselves, Tubbo couldn’t be his father. He had to at least meet them. With a new will, he gathered around his friends, and with reassurances that they had L’Manberg covered, Tubbo set off on a horse to the village. It was a good three-day journey, so he’d only have roughly a week left to make his decision of what he was going to do.
Coming to the village, Tubbo took a deep breath as he stared at it. What was she going to be like? She probably didn’t have the best raising based on the letters that the mother sent. Tying up the horse outside the main hall, Tubbo went in, going through the various processes to prove that he was indeed Jschlatt’s child and proving that his father was dead.
After, they took Tubbo to a home where a bunch of children were outside playing but there was one that stood out among them and it wasn’t because she was sitting alone. It was because she had tiny horns on top of her head that were just starting to come in. Tubbo put a hand on his horns that were just starting to curl without thinking.
“That’s (Y/N).” The man that led him here nodded to the little girl.
“She’s five, right?” Tubbo asked.
“Yes. She’s not very talkative, but you can introduce yourself to her.”
Tubbo had few guesses why she didn’t want to talk. He went over, a few of the other kids were pointing at him. (Y/N) was using a stick to push images in the dirt, looking up when a shadow got in the way of the sun. Tubbo smiled when he saw her surprise when she looked up at him, he sitting next to her, wearing his casual wear rather than his suit.
“Hi. I’m Tubbo.” He introduced himself to her.
(Y/N) was silent as she stared obviously at his horns. “You have horns…”
“Yeah, I do. I’m a ram just like you.”
“Really?” She met his eyes now.
“Mhm. I, uh, I actually knew your dad because he was my dad.”
She shifted as she looked back at the ground. “Daddy was a bad man.”
Tubbo winced, putting a hand on his neck. “Why do you say that?”
“Mommy use to say that.”
“Ah. Well…dad wasn’t the greatest, I agree. It wasn’t nice for him to leave you alone.”
The little girl was silent and Tubbo tried to think of a subject change.
“Do you like drawing?”
She nodded. “Mommy wouldn’t let me use paper but I like drawing in the dirt.”
“Oh…do you…have any friends?”
She put a hand on one of her little horns and he immediately understood.
“I get it.” He smiled gently, putting a hand on his horn. “I didn’t have a lot of friends until I met my best friend Tommy. I’m sure you will find some friends.”
His heart melted as she gave him her first small smile. “I hope so.”
He sat with her just talking away, the time passing so fast without either of them knowing as they talked. He felt like he learned so much but so little about her; yet, he loved every moment sitting with her. She had to go back with the other children of the orphanage but within a few hours, Tubbo made up his mind. He couldn’t leave this little girl with everyone else; he’d take her back to L’Manberg.
So, in the morning, Tubbo put on his suit to be professional and he did the paperwork before waiting for them to bring (Y/N). (Y/N) came in timidly and Tubbo smiled gently as he crouched in front of her.
“Hey, so, I don’t want to leave without you, would you like to come with me? I can introduce you to a few of my good friends.”
“…They’re all nice like you, right?”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, a few of them are pretty nice.”
She looked around but nodded. “Ok.”
He grinned as he stood up. “Then I’m going to take you back to my home.”
They got the few things that she owned and Tubbo put them on the horse. After, Tubbo changed into more appropriate riding clothes before getting on with (Y/N).
“Alright, here we go.” He muttered before getting the horse to go.
Off they went to L’Manberg, Tubbo making sure they had shelter each night. It was a bit stressful for Tubbo on these few days. He had gotten used to not eating every day but he had to remember now to make sure (Y/N) ate. He also had to remember this was boring as hell for her so he tried his best to make little games as they galloped along. There was a point he went off on a bee tangent for half an hour after spotting one and pouted to himself when he saw (Y/N) had fallen asleep against him but he kept an arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off.
As he got back to L’Manberg, he huffed as he saw Tommy and Fundy arguing as Quackity was laughing, Ranboo standing to the side awkwardly. Yeah, that’s how he expected his cabinet to act with him gone. He tied up his horse, grabbing (Y/N)’s things before taking her hand as he walked over to them. As the pair went over, (Y/N) hide behind him shyly.
“Guys!” Tubbo called.
“Tubbo! Tell this furry bitch—” Tommy started.
“Oh, fuck off Tommy!” Fundy shouted back.
They started having another go.
“GUYS!” Tubbo shouted, making (Y/N) jump with the rest of the group. “I have someone for you to meet, so can you shut it?”
Tommy spotted the little girl peeking out from behind Tubbo, noticing the horns first.
“Holy shit, she has horns like yours.” Tommy went around Tubbo.
“Yeah, this is (Y/N), she’s my little sister.”
“A sister?!” Tommy looked at Tubbo surprised.
Tubbo nodded. “I adopted her.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s a long story but I’m back and I’m got to bring her to my house,” Tubbo told them before walking off, feeling the little girl squeeze his hand tighter, probably getting overwhelmed.
They got to Tubbo’s house and he looked around.
“Er…You can have my room. I’ll need to make you a room.” He smiled at her.
“Ok…thank you.”
He patted her head between her horns. “I couldn’t leave you behind sis. Let’s get you settled in and I can make us some steak. Sound good?”
She nodded.
Tubbo knew it would be stressful learning to take care of another human while he had to run a nation but he had his friends to help him. He hoped he could do all this right.
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If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny
Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader
Square: Slow Burn
Word Count: 4,800ish
Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent
A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!
________
If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.
But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.
But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.
You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban.
The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.
“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door.
“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”
“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.
“Can I ask what the distinction is?”
“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”
“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”
“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it.
“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.
“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.
“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”
“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”
“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes.
“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled.
“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”
“Yes?”
“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”
“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”
“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”
“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”
“How so?”
“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”
“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.
“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”
“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”
“You’re young. How old?”
“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.
“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”
“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said.
“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”
“So does losing your wife,” you said.
“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”
“Is dad okay?” you asked.
“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”
“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.
“You’re not trying to impress me.”
“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”
“How am I doing so far?”
“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”
“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”
“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”
“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”
“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”
“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”
“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.
“What exactly should I be asking?”
“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”
“What’s the difference?”
“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”
“How old did you say you were again?”
“Thirty today.”
“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”
“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”
“I didn’t show you anything yet.”
“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”
“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.
“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”
“I’d like to hire you,” he said.
“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.
“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”
“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.
“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”
“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”
“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said.
“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.
“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”
“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head.
“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”
“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”
“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”
“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”
“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.
“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”
“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”
You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.
“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”
“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”
“Single for all that,” you said.
“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.
“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”
“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.
“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”
“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.
Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances.
“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”
“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”
“What’s that?”
“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”
“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”
Monday Morning
“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned.
“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”
“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.
“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”
“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”
“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”
“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”
“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.
“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.
“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”
“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.
“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.
“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”
“So when do you take a break?” he asked.
“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.
“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”
“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”
“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”
“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.
“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.
“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”
“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”
“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”
“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”
“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.
“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.
“Mr. Ackles-”
“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”
“Y/N.”
“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled.
“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”
“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.
“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”
“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.
“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”
“So are you.”
“I’m not young anymore.”
“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile.
“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”
“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.
“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”
“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”
Later That Evening
“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”
“You actually got me a cake?”
“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.
“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.
“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.
“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.
“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.
“I really shouldn’t,” you said.
“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.
“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”
He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.
“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.
“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”
“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”
“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.
“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”
“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”
“I bought it myself,” said Jensen.
“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”
“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”
“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.
“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.
“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake.
“Drink?” he asked.
“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”
“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”
“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”
“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”
“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”
“Can I ask another personal question?”
“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.
“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”
“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”
“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.
“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”
“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”
“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”
“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”
“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”
“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”
“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.
“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.
“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”
“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”
“You don’t count. You’re…”
“Too old for you?” he chuckled.
“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”
“Looks ain’t everything.”
“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.
“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”
“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.
“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked.
“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”
“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”
“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”
“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.
“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”
“I bought a cake.”
“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”
“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”
“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight Jensen.”
________
A/N: Read Part 2 here!
#tell me a story bingo#SPN#supernatural#jensen x reader#jensen acklees#jensen ackles au#rpf#jensen series#rpf series#jensen ackles x reader#spn fanfic#jensen fanfic#jensen ackles fanfic#supernatural fanfic
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