#she just wants him in her bed and she’s not above using her nine-year-old son to get there

[herarcadewasteland]

Danger Lurks

A/N: There's a significant lack (pretty much none) of Teddy Lobo x Reader from 2023 Renfield and since I'm fulfilling my own Renfield x Reader fics, I'm doing this for those hoomans who also wanted this but couldn't find it. (Such a good movie btw I've seen it like 4 times now) Nine google doc pages of this shit-

-Teddy Lobo x Reader

-Mentions of drugs, violence and the likes. Swearing. You're old enough to know what you can handle. This is your warning :) (also sui*ide :/.... it turned darker- sorry if you're triggered. this is your warning again)

TW TW TW TW TW TW TW

_______________________

Teddy Lobo. Yeah. Him. Your boyfriend. The one currently ranting about some guy who killed a bunch of his men in Mulates the previous night. A sigh left you as you sat and listened patiently. It wasn’t like you had meant to get involved with a crime family. It just… happened. On a Thursday. A couple years back. It wasn’t worth the mental effort to think on how you had met with each detail in place. So you settled for the simple thought of it all. You were working. He walked in, you smiled at him while everyone looked away. You kept eye contact.

You didn’t look scared, and you didn't know who he was. He took you out a couple times, wined and dined you. Took you places. Treated you right. And then after mind-blowing sex, you met his mother at the breakfast table as she plotted with her son on the next drug deal. There was no out at that point. Plus, Teddy was quite a nice guy… past the killing and cocaine and stuff. So, you stayed. Which landed you here as he continued in disbelief at what had happened to a good number of his men. It wasn’t easy to believe what he told you he saw, but you had to at least try to believe. 

It was a lot easier when he walked up to your chair and landed a kiss on your lips with a pleading expression,

“You have to fucking believe me, Y/N. We’re looking for the fucker right now and when we get him, you’re coming. It’s time you get out there with me. You’ve been staying behind with mother for too long. I’m better with you at my side. You know this, lovely.”

You sighed again and nodded, hands brushing over the stubble on his jaw, 

“I know, Teddy. I’m just worried. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Or anyone else. It’s just not my  thing.”

He sighs in return and pulls you from your chair into a bear hug, his deep breathing calming you against his chest as you snuggled in. His hands stroked over your hair and you hummed while he let out a short chuckle at how cute you were. 

“We’ll have the info by morning. I’ll wake you up an hour before we’re ready to go. There won't be many of us. I’ll keep you safe, lovely.”, his lips pressed against your head and you smiled into his chest, “Now go get some rest. I want you not to be groggy when we go get this dickhead. You’ll need to be alert.”

“Ok. Goodnight Teddy.”

“Goodnight lovely.”

He spun you out of his arms towards the stairs. You giggled and walked up them to the left towards your now shared room with Teddy. You could feel his gaze on you as you walked above him past the railings blocking the fairly large fall. Looking back at him, you smiled. He smiled back with love in his gaze. You felt it too. The love. You loved him. Unfortunately for you, Teddy felt a nagging in the back of his head about the upcoming events. And he didn’t like it one bit. 

—--

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. It was normal, but it felt wrong today. The day just felt wrong. It made your eyes water as Teddy walked into the room looking down at a tablet as he grabbed a suit jacket from the closet. 

“Teddy?”

He visibly jumped at your voice, his eyes searching you out immediately and noting the tears in your eyes. His panic was next. He hated it when you cried. All he wanted was for you to be happy around him and for you to be crying so openly, it was new. Off putting even. Especially for Teddy.

“Love? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Tell me what’s wrong.”

He rushed to the bed and held your trembling hands in his steady large ones as you looked at him sadly. Just shaking your head, you took your hands from his as he scanned you constantly for any visible wound. 

“N-No I’m…”, your voice cracked and you took a steadying breath, holding Teddy’s hands again to calm him as well as yourself, “I’m okay. Just… today feels wrong. Maybe it’s just one of those days but something feels different and I’m scared. What if the feeling is right, Teddy? I don’t want anything to happen to you… to us… to anyone.”

His grip tightened on your hands as you spoke, his eyes softening further as he watched the tears make a path down your flushed face. You sighed shakily and watched him watch you. It was simple. But it calms you down enough to take a deep breath, loosen your hold on his poor hands and kiss him gently. The kiss was… as it always is, wonderful. His lips cushioned yours in the best way that you never thought possible before kissing Teddy Lobo. It took over the fear as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, a small groan leaving him as you parted from the kiss. 

“No no, come back. You should stay with me like that forever.”, he falls back onto the bed dramatically, his hand on his forehead as you giggle. “It’s heaven on earth. You can’t take that from me!”

You laugh loudly as you crawl on top of him, his hands resting on your hips as you place kisses around his face, “We have somewhere to be, don’t we? Maybe later, pony boy.”

You wheeze at the confused and nearly offended look on his face as you scramble from the bed, gathering your most Lobo coded outfit from the closet to rush into the ensuite bathroom and change before Teddy could fully recover and get you back with many, many tickles. His huffs reached your ears from the other side of the door as you tugged on the red leather jacket you had gotten for your birthday from Teddy a year back when he first asked you to go public with him. Properly. 

Finishing the outfit with a spray of your favourite perfume, you step back into the bedroom to see Teddy waiting for you on the bed, his eyes trained on you immediately. A whistle filled the room as he clapped you into the room, his applause guiding your steps subconsciously. Placing your hands on his shoulders when you reached him, you played with hair at the nape of his neck, his smirk making you smile shyly as he looked you up and down a few times. 

“Bout fucking time I see you wear this for me. Let’s make it count, lovely. Mother sent word for us to head down. The boys are ready. We have his location.”

You nodded with a sigh and pecked his lips, stepping towards the door and shaking off your hands. You were nervous. Sure you felt a little better but that feeling, that bad one, was still present and somehow got stronger as you loaded into the van with Teddy and a few of the Lobo troops. The drive was longer than you thought but also shorter than a trip to the costco somehow. You forgot to question it all as you pulled up to the very clearly abandoned hospital, pieces of the roof hanging off, boarded windows, broken windows, graffiti. It all screamed sketchy and abandoned. But Teddy was determined. So when he saw your hesitance standing in front of the tall building, he sighed and pulled you into his side with a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just stay close. I’ve got you.”

You nodded not trusting your voice the moment you stepped into the building. The air was suffocating. Heavy. Musty. Definitely smelled like a place many people died in. That feeling you had increased ten-fold as you continued down the falling hallway, the roof and pipes clanging together and causing a few of the men to hit their heads on the way. Off-handed comments were made along the walk to find something, anything that indicated life, that the place must be haunted. The men made the typical ghost noises as they walked before stopping abruptly in what you assumed to be the reception or waiting room. It was open, large. Echoey. And you hated it more than the man who thought it would be funny to scare you into Teddy’s strong arms. You stayed away from that man for the rest of the walk. But now, standing in the entryway with Teddy as he spewed profanities, you wanted all the knowledge you were surrounded by capable people. 

Glancing around and purposefully avoiding the hundreds of suspended blood bags, you counted each of the men with growing relief that there was no one else. You looked up at Teddy with worried eyes, his own angry ones softening at your fear. HIs large hand rubbed comforting circles into your back as he led you forward to search for this Renfield guy. He called out to his men once you reached a very rank smelling room, the flies making you cringe away from the room while Teddy looked inside.

“Ronnie, call my fucking mom. RIGHT NOW.”

His voice echoed as he shielded your eyes, walking back into the open space, his mom’s voice sounding from a discarded phone that you couldn’t see until Teddy dropped his hand from your eyes to pick it up and freak out. You glanced around again, the feeling back in stronger waves as Teddy grabbed your hand again, your own trembling in his grasp as he talked with his mom before a whooshing met your ears and you both glanced around in panic. 

“Teddy- I don’t like this… Let’s just go.”, your frantic eyes met his and he frowned at the pure fear in your eyes before he glanced at something over your shoulder and froze. “Please, I don’t want to be here anymore. Can we find this Renfield guy another day? Baby...?”

Your pleading fell on deaf ears as he stared over your shoulder with a rapidly paling face. You froze in turn, hearing a dark chuckle over your shoulder. Your first instinct was to step further into Teddy, his arms wrapping around you as you slowly turned in his hold to see what caused him that much fear. Meeting the eyes of the man, you gasped. His lips curled in a smile, his pointed teeth clenched together as he watched you. You let out a shaky breath and tugged at Teddy’s arms to tell him to get you the fuck out of there. Teddy being Teddy guided you closer instead, your body falling further back into his solid frame as you were now at least a foot away from the strange man in a bedazzled suit blazer. 

Teddy’s hand reached out holding his phone, pure confidence on his face until the man took the gap in security to dart a hand out with inhuman speed and grab you from Teddy’s hold, pulling you into his chest with a hand on your neck. You whimpered at his hold, eyes wide as you stared at Teddy, who waved his hands in panic, repeating “Woah” in an attempt at subduing the hold this man had on you. 

“Look, we don’t want any trouble-”

“Who are you? You were sent by the church?”, his last word was dragged out with disgust and contempt. 

“I’m a criminal! My organization is all about evil! We’re evil, okay?!”

“Why are you here?!”, the pale man growled as he jerked you back against him. 

“We’re looking for this guy! I’m tryna find this guy! He meddled in our business and killed a bunch of our guys tryna save a bunch of innocent people.”

The phone held out in front of you showed the man, Renfield. The man holding you growled and tightened his hold on your neck, your own hands grasping at his pale appendage as you gasped at the increased pressure. You didn’t move more than that, too afraid of the claw-like nails on the man's hand to move more than you already dared. Teddy watched you carefully as the man laughed maniacally. The panic in Teddy was clear as he took an almost threatening step forward.

“Do you know who I am?! Who she is?!”

 The guy holding you in a death grip tilted his head in confusion, a nearly mocking “Hmm?”, vibrating your back with his voice.

“I’m Teddy fucking Lobo and that’s my girlfriend!” 

The strange man chuckled and lifted you above him after turning you to face him, his eyes meeting your widened ones as your legs kicked in the air, the lack of ground frightening you enough to struggle in his hold despite the claws so close to your neck.

“I am Count Dracula.”, the man's smile was back as he somehow lifted you higher, your face turning slightly red as you shook your head. 

“You win!”, Teddy shouted as he watched you turn your head to look down at him, the desperation in his eyes so clear to you as the man who claimed he was Dracula brought you down enough to make eye contact with you directly.

“He is my servant.”, Dracula growled as you trembled in his hand, lips parted to take in more air than you could through your nose. Dracula’s eyes focused on the phone again, Teddy’s other hand shaking by his side.

“He doesn’t seem to be serving you very well.”, Teddy chuckled hesitantly as you glared back at him the best you could. 

Dracula’s clawed hand set you on the ground, your back to his chest in a split second as Teddy stepped forward again. Your hands shook as you gripped the arm around your neck again, Dracula’s maniacal, almost hysterical laugh filling your head as you stared down Teddy with a mounting anger. The man's free hand shot out to grab the phone, the looped video of Renfield being stopped as the phone was crushed in his hand like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. You winced, pushing yourself against Dracula in fear before you realized and tried to move forwards, out of his harsh hold. Your attempt failed as Dracula grabbed you again and held you still against him forcefully, your forearm exposed as he twisted your arm around under his hold to drag a claw down the vein. You whimpered and shook, Teddy panicking further and reaching out to you with his shaking hands. 

“Wait, no, no, no, no!”

“This crime family of yours, would it enjoy witnessing the beheading of it’s enemies and the impalement of all who oppose it?”, Dracula's claw traced up and down the vein in your arm, your hand shaking violently at the base of it. 

One cut into it lengthwise and you would bleed out in 2 hours max. A horizontal cut would take multiple and even deeper ones, he would have to cut your vein clean in half to get you dead in that same time frame. It was still a frightening situation, having experienced his strength. The blood around his mouth and dripping down his chin didn’t help your fear. 

“That's like- that’s like our w-whole thing, man.”, Teddy’s voice trembled as he tried to get you free from the man's hold without causing a fight or pain to you.  

“And can the family raise me soldiers?”, Draculas’ tone was curious now, his claw stilling just above your wrist.

“We can… I can make a couple calls, yeah.”, Teddy almost had a smile on his face now from the turn the whole situation took. 

“Whatever pain Renfield caused you, I will return 10, 000 fold.”, he said in a rumble, his claw returning to its original path with a small detour of your neck. “I will unleash an army of death whilst warming my skin next to mountains of burning corpses.” 

The tone of his voice turned whimsical, like he was day-dreaming of the scenario. Teddy watched in concern and growing excitement that this guy seemed to want to hurt this Renfield guy as much as the Lobo’s. 

“How does that sound to you?”, Dracula finished his speech while turning his fanged smile into your neck, his tongue tracing over your pulse point while he made eye contact with your lover. 

Teddy took a steadying breath and released it with a groaned sigh, “It sounds… like you gotta meet my mom.”

You groaned as Dracula burst out laughing a few seconds later. Teddy laughed quietly with him, his eyes focused on you the whole time while you trembled. Dracula’s pure evil laughter got louder and Teddy nearly retreated in fear as he laughed a little more openly, concern growing at the rate the laughter from the other man was. 

“Are you happy or are you gonna fuck us up?”, Teddy’s smile died as he spoke, Dracula laughing still.

His claw made a small cut on your arm as he reached out to Teddy who screamed as his laughter turned into an almost screamed laugh, Teddy’s scream turning into slight laughter as Dracula continued laughing with a hand now on your boyfriend's shoulder. You hissed at the residual sting, sliding from Dracula’s body to Teddy’s side as they laughed continuously until Dracula went stock still. His eyes were staring you down as you hid behind Teddy. You froze your tugging at Teddy’s sleeve in response, his eyes flashing with something before he ended up behind you both, hand trailing over your shoulder before he spun you and grabbed the arm he had sliced. You froze further somehow as he gazed into your eyes with an intensity while Teddy watched in disbelief as his tongue snaked out of his mouth to lick the small trail of blood from your arm. 

“Can you not do that, man? She’s still my girl. You’re scaring her.”

Dracula met Teddy’s eyes with a growl as he dropped your arm, stepping back with a new expression of politeness. Almost like he had been conveniently forgetting that you were in a relationship with the same man who screamed moments before at a hand movement. He knew what he was doing though, he had too. He seemed too self aware to not know exactly what he was doing as he eye-fucked you while you cowered into your lovers body again. 

“My apologies.”, He spoke with reverence that you could tell was a cover, but Teddy accepted it with a simple nod, leading you around the guy with a hand on your back and shoulder.

“We’ll be back in a few moments, we need to gather some more men to bring you to my mom.”

Dracula nodded and watched you go as you looked back at him one last time, hand rubbing over the small laceration he had made on your delicate skin. 

—--- 

It was days later when this Renfield guy burst through the doors, Teddy’s mom standing beside you, her son on your other side, his hands crossed over his chest. 

“Must be nice not having to be invited in.”

You blocked out the conversation from there, watching as the officer’s eyes scanned you with blatant interest, the conversation clearly shifting towards you as everyone looked your way.

“She’s merely a bystander. No harm has to come to her.”

Teddy’s voice had rung across the front room clearly, the two on the ground floor looking at you with increased interest as you shuffled behind Teddy to hide yourself from their searching gazes. Tugging at your newly acquired fiance's sleeve, you mumbled in his ear that you didn’t want to be out front with him, requesting that you go into the back with his mother. He refused, insisting that he could keep you safer while you were with him. You agreed reluctantly and grasped him by the waist as the conversation continued. You felt a pair of eyes on you the entire time but shrugged it off as a few men jumped the railing with increasing dramatics to fight this Renfield guy who now shared powers with a handful of the Lobo men. 

The fight went quickly, Teddy realizing quickly that he may be better off sitting behind the scenes with his mother. You both jogged to the door before you heard a voice calling out to you both. Officer Quincy. You shook your head as you both turned, Teddy pulling his gold pistols from his pants in a threat. Hands reaching up to pull his arms down, you stepped in front of him to stop him. Muttering at him, you sighed. He was stubborn, you knew that but for him to be this stubborn at that particular moment irked you. So you reacted. Grabbing his guns from his hands, you saw his eyes narrow at you. Before you could think on it more, you turned to the railing and leapt over the edge, running for the door as he called after you in urgency.

Nothing stopped you as you booked it for the doors, Renfield’s carnage doing nothing to stop you as you nearly made it to the door before Teddy reached you. His hands grasped your arms as you panicked, hands trembling as his golden eyes looked into your own coloured ones. Dropping the guns, you burst into tears, hiding your face in his chest as his hands rubbed up and down your back to calm you.

“Hey, hey. Look, it’ll be okay. I promise. Let’s get you upstairs to mother and we’ll see each other soon, I promise. I won’t let you get hurt.”

You sighed, wiping your tears with shaky hands as he picked you up, carrying you through everything calmly, the destruction avoiding you narrowly as Renfield downed the last man. You tapped Teddy’s shoulder frantically as you noticed his advance, the cop approaching from the opposite direction as your tapping got more panicked. Teddy noticed quickly, his hands gripping you tighter despite setting you on the ground.

Being exposed more for any attack, you stood still with your back pressed against the chest that had been pressed against yours the night before. The officer quickly approached, Teddy acting quickly and snorting the centipede that had been crawling up and down his arm without you noticing. You cringed away from the sight, Teddy’s eyes flashing gold again as he gently pushed you to the side before he lunged at the officer. That left you completely exposed. 

Renfield took advantage of the situation and pulled you into his hold like his master had done a night or so before. In a few moments, Renfield had you held on the balcony above, arm crossed over your throat as Teddy and the officer fought. It didn’t take long for Teddy to notice, his distraction enough for the officer to pull the shotgun on him and shoot him down. You gasped and fought the hold on you, your eyes stuck on your lover’s as he fell to his knees, bloodied wounds decorating his tattooed chest while you watched, unable to do anything but cry. Renfield took pity on you and let you go, your fist meeting his face before you raced past the murderer of your fiance to the man himself. 

“Teddy! No, no, no no no nonono. You can’t leave me! We were gonna be together forever…”

His pained chuckle met your ears as tears fell from your pained eyes. 

“Don’t you know who I am? I’m Teddy fucking Lobo and I’ll always be with you, lovely.”

Your head shook as you pressed frantically on his wounds, eyes scanning his face continuously as he just watched you, a single tear tracking down his face and meeting the small puddle of yours on the floor beneath him. You chuckled roughly, of course he would say that while dying. Footsteps drew your attention momentarily, the culprits sprinting to get to Dracula while you sat with the love of your life and talked him into the afterlife. You’d meet him there one day. You just hoped it would be sooner… seeing his pistols out of the corner of your eye, you nodded. You’d be with him soon. 

As you held his pistol to your head, you laughed in pain,

“Teddy fucking Lobo... I’ll see you soon, baby.”

-------

A/N: oh man im sorry it got dark :/ if i missed any words im so sorry but hopefully it made some sense. kinda my own take with a few direct quotes from scenes.

#herarcadewasteland #reader insert #fanfiction #basically gn!reader #renfield 2023 #renfield #renfield movie #teddy lobo #teddy lobo x reader #reader x renfield #renfield 2023 fanfic #renfield ff #tw murder #tw death #tw sui implied #renfield lowkey an ass

[violettduchess]

A/N: Third Contribution to the Different Universe Same Love Content Creation Challenge, Day 6 Domestic AU; hosted by @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady

Comte / f!Reader / their children

Word Count: 726

Fluff, Family life, babies

You hummed softly as you ran your hand over your son’s petal-soft, dark blond hair. He was only a few weeks old but his hair was thicker than you had ever seen on such a small child, as if he had spent nine months focusing all his energy on growing his hair until it matched his father's. 

A few minutes ago, he had fallen asleep while nursing and you kept him close, cradling him to you, this small living, breathing piece of your heart. God, he's so beautiful...

A cry from the baby monitor pulled you out of your reverie, but Comte, who had been sleeping beside you, was quicker. He reached out, muting the monitor and sat up groggily, running a hand over his own unruly blond mane. 

"You stay put, chérie", he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. "I'll go." You gave him a smile, your eyes tired but your heart awash with gratitude. He was the father you had always known he would be. Utterly and helplessly devoted to his family. Fiercely protective. Loving them with all the force of the loneliness he himself had been forced to endure.

He pushed back the dark floral covers and pulled on a shirt before walking from your bedroom across the hall to your firstborn's room.

An almost feral tenderness flooded him at the sight of his two year old daughter, sitting up in her crib, rubbing sleepily at her golden, tear-filled eyes, brown curls a halo around her head. Her room was lit by the glow of her moon-shaped night light and the glow-in-the-dark stars Comte had painstakingly glued to the ceiling above her bed. Both gifts from Uncle Leonardo. Her pajamas also glowed with tiny neon hearts. He felt as if his own heart was a larger version of them, illuminated by the ferocity of his love for her.

"Ah, ma poupette. Don’t cry. Papa is here." She reached her chubby arms towards the sound of her father's voice, toward the constant that was her aegis against all the fearsome things in her young life. "Papa", she whimpered. 

He leaned down, picking her up. She kept her favorite toy, a chocolate brown ferret plushie named Thyme, clutched tightly in her hand as she settled into the position she wanted, curled up against Comte, her head falling heavily onto his shoulder. He walked over to another toy, this one from Mozart, which perched on her window sill. It was a snowy white owl adorned with lavender ribbons, holding a song book between its fluffy wings. Comte reached out and pressed the pink button on its soft, rudimentary talon. Eine kleine Nachtmusik began playing as he settled himself into the rocking chair that you had used to nurse her and rock in when she was so much smaller. Your daughter loved it so much you had left it in her room.

He settled back as she wiggled herself into a comfortable position within the loving circle of his arms. Comte was struck by how warm she was, the top of her head radiating heat when he dropped a small kiss there, murmuring reassurances in French. Tu vas bien, ma poupette. Je suis là. It's ok, little one. I'm here. He reached out, smoothing down her soft curls, hair as fine as angel down, quietly humming along with Mozart's melody as he rocked back and forth.

She sighed heavily, a final shudder thundering through her small body, shaking off the bad dream, her eyes slowly fluttering closed. Happiness, safety, peace engulfed her like the gentle embrace of night when it welcomes the sun home.

Comte glanced upwards at the luminescent star stickers on her ceiling. Whenever he was in here, holding her like this, he could swear they glowed just a little brighter than usual, almost as if they were responding to the contentment thrumming through his child.

His lips tilted up in a small smile at the thought of his fille being connected to the stars, living forever in night's care, the moon as her guardian.

He adjusted his now sleeping daughter in his arms, her small body so warm and heavy. He knew he should carry her back to her crib. And he would.....

But he wanted to enjoy just a few more minutes like this, in the softly-lit room, the gentle lullaby in his ears, and the love of his life asleep in his arms.

��

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing

#different universe same love ccc #ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen comte #ikevamp comte #comte de saint germain #domestic au #father and daughter #ikemen fanfic #ikemen fanfiction #violettwrites

[thebanishedd]

YTAU, No snz/illness Triggers for mentions of murder/death (non descriptive and only mentioned twice), smoking, Andrew fuckin Munson. Joyce and Eddie bond over a mutual person, and mother/son dynamics abound! Enjoy!

X X X

It almost happens the second weekend in December. 

She’s washing plates off when there’s noise behind her, not loud enough to be Will or Hop, but not quiet enough to be El or Steve. Turning, the forty nine year old woman smiles when she sees Eddie, the newest edition to their little group. Steve’s been a part of their family since he was in high school, helping out with Will and tutoring him when he needed it, welcoming El happily when they adopted her, hanging out with Jonathan and giving him tips from being a grade above him. The brunette’s been a staple for all of a decade in the Hopper household, and now his new boyfriend is slowly getting acclimated as well. 

Joyce has grown especially fond of Eddie, is the thing. The beginning of November had really kickstarted the older boy coming over, after he’d been so ill and Hopper had helped out. Before then, it had been Steve coming over, sometimes Robin, but never Eddie. She thinks maybe he’d wanted Steve to have his alone time with them, but after the hospital, the curly haired man had been showing up every week, sometimes more than once if the timing was right. 

“Hey honey,” she greets the small-framed man, her words reciprocated with a smile, the twenty eight year old's dimples on display. 

“Hey Mrs. Byers, I just uh, wanted to thank you again, for dinner.” 

His voice is soft, a far stretch from his general aura, all frenetic energy, tattoos, chains and loud laughs. At least, that’s what she’s experienced outside of the Byers-Hopper residence. Inside, when it’s just the six of them; seven if Jonathan isn’t working or with Nancy, Eddie’s quieter, a little less intense. She wonders if it’s because he feels comfortable around them enough to drop the ‘tough guy’ act, or if he’s nervous about Hopper being around. 

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me, it’s no trouble. It’s nice getting to have you and Steve around,” she assures, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Still…it means a lot, that you do this and open your home to us,” the man tugs at a curl that’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Well, it means a lot that you come over and put up with everyone,” Joyce jokes back. “If you really want to help though, you could take over drying?” 

Holding out a dish towel as if it’s a bone for a dog, Eddie takes it and starts drying when she hands him a newly washed dish. She looks at him, then, her mind flashing back to when she was a teenager thirty years ago. The mother’s been unsure of whether she wants to bring up what’s on her mind; has debated for weeks, and right as she starts to open her mouth, Will comes in looking excited about something, so she lets Eddie be pulled away, then finishes the dishes so she can join the rest of the family who are watching Elf, all sprawled out on the couches and the floor. The sight of everyone, even Jim, looking relaxed and happy makes her heart want to burst. Later that evening, when all the kids have gone back to their respective apartments and it’s just her and her husband, she brings up her thought with him, not for the first time. 

“I almost told him.” 

Hopper looks up with a furrowed brow from where he’s watching the news, laying in bed with only boxers and a t-shirt on. 

“Told who what?” 

“Eddie. I almost told him about his mom.” 

The look the words gain her tells her that Hopper isn’t surprised. 

“I thought you decided to wait until he was a little more comfortable, maybe around Christmas.” 

“It’s close enough. And he’s obviously comfortable here. I was going to tell him while he helped me wash dishes, but then Will came in and grabbed him.” 

“Maybe give him another week or two. Holidays are already tough,” Jim trails off and she knows he’s right. 

A couple weeks pass, and finally on the 21st she feels her resolve start to slip. The boys are back over and obviously happy to help decorate the tree Hop’s picked up to put in their living room. El and Will are sorting through handmade ornaments while Steve tests the strands of lights they’ll be wrapping around the tree. Jim is making his infamous hot chocolate. Seeing Eddie watching the scene in front of him, Joyce slips into the bedroom near the back of the house, grabbing a small, yellowed envelope that’s seen better days. Moments later, she sits next to the man on the couch, giving him a warm smile. 

“Hey kiddo.” 

“Hey Mrs.Byers.” 

“Having fun?” She notices his eyes flick to the envelope, but when she blinks his eyes are back on her own. 

“Oh yeah, guess I’m just not used to like…all of the chaos of decorating. Me and Wayne would just put up the tiniest most pathetic tree we could find, it’s honestly a running joke, and then make hot cider and watch Christmas movies. This is nice too, just different,” he explains, voice sounding nervous. 

“It’s definitely a lot of noise if Will and El are involved,” she jokes, then scoots slightly closer. “I have something for you.” 

His face contorts into confusion, just like she’s imagined it would, his eyebrows knit together, and his lips quirk downwards. 

“It’s not Christmas yet.” 

“It’s alright. This is something special.” 

Eddie’s body tenses, but his face is schooled into a false look of calm. Carefully, she opens the envelope and pulls out a handful of photographs, to which the man beside her shifts to look at, leaning closer. She can feel the moment he realizes what they are and can hear the catch in his breath. There’s a sudden intense stillness around the two of them. 

“That’s-” 

“My mom.” 

The words sound fragile, like if she talks too loudly it’ll shatter the entire moment- make it less significant somehow. 

“That’s your mom,” she confirms. 

The photo on top of the stack is of two teens, sitting on a picnic table, both with long dark hair, though one’s is far more curly and unruly. They’re both sixteen, wearing Wrangler shorts and ringer tees. Joyce remembers this day, back in July of ‘89, when the AC broke in her house and she and her best friend went with a few others to get ice cream. Mack, one of the boys a grade above them, had brought a disposable camera, and the photo was still one of her favorites. 

“How uh,” Eddie swallows, not taking his eyes off of the photo in her hands. “How do you…why-…you knew her?” 

“We were best friends from middle school on.” 

Joyce says it as carefully and gently as she can, unsure of how Eddie will react. It’s a big thing to find out- the woman you’ve come to somewhat trust is actually your dead mothers childhood best friend. Waiting patiently, she lets him process it, watching him slowly start to fully understand what this means. She has photos, stories, even some videos. When he doesn’t say anything, but continues to stare at the photo, she moves it into his lap, revealing the next one. 

Joyce and Teresa are in matching ice skating uniforms; probably around thirteen years old or so, both holding flowers, hair up in ridiculous up-dos, makeup caked on their faces. 

“She used to ice skate?” Eddie asks with surprise. 

Joyce feels like she could fall apart, witnessing this man find things out about his mom he never knew. 

“She did. She was great at it. I was always so jealous of her, but I was also proud.” 

She lets Eddie soak in the photo, then pulls out the one below it. It’s of Teresa only, her long curls wild as she looks at the camera, mid laugh. She’s probably around 19, holding a guitar. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and after a quick glance at Joyce, he takes the photo from her, pouring over every aspect of it. The older woman moves off of the sofa for a minute, giving him some time alone. 

When she comes back seven minutes later; two cups of hot chocolate in hand, Eddie’s smiling softly, playing with a piece of his hair as he stares at the photo on his hands. Joyce sits down and a smile spreads on her face too when she sees the photo. Her and her best friend are in prom dresses, posing together with silly faces. 

“God, Reese saved up all her money for that dress,” the woman recalls, handing one of the mugs to Eddie. 

“Reese?” 

“That’s what I used to call her. And she called me JJ. I think we used the nicknames more than are actual ones,” Joyce laughs. 

“Your dresses are pretty cool,” he offers, still looking at the picture as he sips on the drink. 

“Your grandmother had wanted her to wear pink, but in normal Reese fashion she flat out refused and picked the brightest blue she could find.” 

As she speaks, Joyce realizes how alike Teresa and Eddie are, even without him really knowing her. She glances at the man and notices the same faint freckles over the bridge of his nose, sees the same sparkle in his deep brown eyes. His skin is pale just like hers had been, and his dimples are mirror images. Continuing on, a new photo is picked up, and the moment she sees what it is, the brunette wishes she could throw it away. 

Teresa is standing on the porch of a small trailer, beaming. Andrew Munson is standing behind her, dwarfing her small frame. She’s holding out her hand for the camera, a ring on her previously naked left ring finger. Joyce remembers it like it was yesterday- Andrew coming to tell her he was proposing and needed help picking a ring, planning the proposal, watching her friend squeal in excitement and start to cry as she said yes. Eddie swallows convulsively, grabbing the next photo to put on top of the current, only to pale, face losing all color. 

A very pregnant Teresa Porter Munson is standing with Andrew, looking tired, stomach ready to pop. The man looks tired too, but it’s different, his eyes are bloodshot but wide, and even in a simple photo, the energy around the man is obvious, as if he’s strung out on god knows what. Joyce is certain that during this particular photo it was a mix of cocaine and alcohol. 

“Eddi-“ 

“It’s fine.” 

His hands shake, voice wobbly as the almost thirty year old finally blinks. Joyce goes to wrap an arm around him when Eddie stands suddenly, setting the half empty mug on the coffee table. He holds the photo and keeps it in his grasp. 

“I need a smoke.” 

The front door is opened and shut in record time, the noise reverberating through the cozy house. Steve and El look over to her with confusion on their faces, but she merely shakes her head as if to let them know to drop it for now. 

X X X

Eddie hasn’t touched a cigarette since before moving back to Hawkins. He always has one in his pocket as a cruel reminder, but he hasn’t touched it, hasn’t even wanted to, until now. Hands trembling and desperate to do something, the tattoo artist yanks out his lighter, the photo of his mom and dad bending slightly as he does. 

Eyes snapping back to the glossy picture, the twenty nine year old sits down and lets his lighter and cigarette drop next to him on the wooden bench. His father is what draws him into it all. 

The thing is, he’s not seen a photo of his father since it all happened. The memories are still sharp in his mind, but the actual depiction of the man is a little fuzzy. Seeing his photo so casually is making Eddie’s entire body feel on edge, but he can’t stop staring. He can hear his voice instructing him how to cut a wire or how to read pill names even before he could truly read books. 

Shivering, only in a sweater, the musician isn’t sure how long he’s sitting outside with his thoughts, until Joyce is one again joining him. He’s grateful it’s her and not Steve- he doesn’t want to be a burden and put all this emotional shit on his boyfriend during a fun night. She lets her knee knock against his when she sits. 

“Do you have any questions?” 

He has too many to count, ranging from what her favorite color was to how his father acted around everyone. Instead, he asks what he thinks might be the most important question for himself. Turning, he looks at the woman who he now knows is his mothers age. 

“Were they in love? Did they actually love each other? Or was it a ‘we’re together for the baby’ situation?” 

Joyce’s eyebrows raise though he can’t blame her. It’s a blunt question, but he wants to know. The idea his mother stayed with someone just because of him and ultimately got murdered…it makes Eddie’s entire body ache. He thinks he knows the answer before she even has time to process it. It makes him feel weak. 

“I think…I think at first they loved each other, and then…then Andrew got into the wrong crowd, got mixed up in things he shouldn’t have,” Joyce’s words are obviously chosen carefully, which makes it even worse. 

“I remember hearing Hopper and Wayne talking that night, they said he wasn’t even on anything when he did it. They said he was a little drunk but not even enough to really do any damage. Which means he wanted to kill her while he was of sound mind.” 

Tears burn in the back of his eyes. He doesn’t talk about his mom to people. It took a while to tell his bandmates about her, and even with Chrissy it hadn’t been easy. Steve’s been different simply because of what he means to Eddie, but this, with Joyce? It’s hard. She knows more than he does about it all. Feeling wet on his cheeks, he looks up at the petit woman and sniffles. 

“…you’re right. He wasn’t. He was angry and buzzed, and he did a stupid thing. I’ll never forgive him for it.” 

The way she says it is so matter of fact it’s like getting sucker punched in the stomach. It’s confirmation. His dad is a piece of shit for numerous reasons- drug dealing, child neglect, abuse, murder. And he’s the guy's son. He’s the son of a fucked up asshole who hurt so many people. It makes Eddie want to crawl out of his skin. 

Tears fall and Joyce hugs him. It’s the most motherly type thing he’s had in over twenty years, and it only makes him cry harder. He misses his mom. He misses her so fucking much. Finally, his tears slow and Joyce shivers hard enough it snaps Eddie out of his sadness. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he fumbles over his words and stands, holding a hand out to Joyce, who takes it as he leads them inside, hoping maybe there’s a few more photos without his father. 

Steve is staring at them when they walk in, and though Eddie notices his boyfriend and Joyce share a look, the ex-jock doesn’t come over, instead leaving the two of them alone to finish their dive into old memories. Sitting back on the couch, the musician notices an old looking gift bag. It’s got envelopes and other things he can’t see stuffed inside. 

“I have something else for you…a few things actually,” Joyce smiles warmly. “There were things I had at my place she’d left around when she passed away. So I kept them. Maybe I should have given them to Wayne, but I was selfish back then.” 

Her eyes are so big and sincere that they make Eddie want to hug her again. Instead, he shakes his head and offers a semblance of a smile. 

“Nah, Wayne would have wanted you to have stuff too,” he assures, knowing his uncle wouldn’t have accepted it back. 

A large, well worn black tee is pulled out first, neatly folded. He shakes it out and smiles at the fact it’s a Journey tee, one from the band's 1991 tour. It’s thin and soft, and Eddie’s finger absentmindedly rubs against the single stretch hem. 

“We went to that concert at 18. Both of us snuck out and said we were staying at each other’s houses. We definitely got caught but it was worth it.” 

The knowledge that his mom liked Journey, that she snuck out of her house and lied just to see the band perform makes Eddie incredibly proud to call himself her son. Joyce hands him a necklace next, a small silver chain with a red tortoise guitar pick. He holds it tight before slipping it around his neck. By the time the woman has given him a few more photos and a few cassette tapes, he’s crying again, quieter and less obvious, but still crying. Eddie regains his control, wipes his eyes, and then puts everything back into the gift bag. 

“Thanks for letting me see everything Joyce,” he starts, but gets cut off. 

“They’re for you honey, I didn’t just mean to show them to you. You keep them. They’ll get more use with you.” 

Heart aching, Eddie nods as his grip tightens on the bag's handle. He’s not sure how he got so lucky, not sure how the town of Hawkins is small enough to lead to this, but he’s grateful all the same. When they leave, Steve hugs the woman tightly, saying something Eddie can’t hear. The car Eddie drives; bless it and it’s 2006 make, still has a cassette tape player. Excitedly, he yanks the first tape out he can find- Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Tango in the Night’. Big Love starts playing through the scratchy speakers and as they drive back to Steve’s apartment, Eddie can’t help the explosion of warmth that’s taken over his body. Maybe the Holidays aren’t all bad. 

#my fic #ytau #em #sh #jb #tm #am #wm

[snarkysinner]

How could you leave us. | Chapter 1


Though I almost died in my dream again. Fighting for my life, I couldn't breathe again. I remember it like it was yesterday. My parents had a party in the family yacht. I lifted my head; swimming and trying to get my foot off the mesh but I couldn’t do it. I started drowning, so I shouted for help. 

I Looked around but nobody seemed to hear me. “Help!” I’m disoriented trying to fight with the water, but it’s almost impossible; I was not strong enough, Raff starts screaming. 

“Mom, Dad…Cayden is drowning!" Without anyone noticing, Caleb impulsively jumped off the yacht and swam towards me, dived into the water untied me from the mesh that protects the sea coast, him being younger something happened and he never got out of the water.

That was the day my whole world shattered and I lost my way, because my father let go of my hand and accused me. I feel so guilty for my brother's death, Raff was just a child beginning to live.

After that, my parent’s marriage fell apart, my mother fell into a deep depression; she practically does not get out of bed, and when they separated my dad decided to take me to live with him. My mother was sunk in her depression and my dad thought it was the best thing for me. 

It was there that I became a troubled teenager, my fears, my insecurities led me to do bad things like go out to parties until the next day totally drunk. By that time my nightmares had already started, they actually started when my brother died. 

I was born into a billionaire family. I grew up surrounded by luxuries and comforts, but I live overwhelmed by a tragic death that occurred when I was ten years old.

When I fell asleep, I began to dream of my brother’s death. I relived it over and over again, they didn't stop so I avoided falling asleep. With my father's last name I could do anything, like enter any place; whatever. I dropped my study and I started playing first with my friends, I got money from anywhere to continue betting. 

it gave me some relief, I didn't think about him, I didn't think about anything. I lost and I didn't care what I wanted was to continue partying. Keep drinking, keep avoiding, if I sleep everything comes back.

The water, the screams, the game was the escape from those demons and I got so involved in the game that I entered the major leagues, and so my debts were greater and my father sent me into academy and there my life was more miserable yet, the nightmares got worse and worse. Nightmares that accompany me until now. 

Deep down, my father always blamed me for the death of his other son and he always made me feel guilty from a very young age. I lived every night like it was my last; parties, pussy, alcohol, drugs, above all, underground casinos. I was on cloud nine.

_________

The last time I had spoken with my father, the atmosphere was cold as ice. We could never have a normal conversation between father and son. “I've tried to live up to your expectations since I was a child but for you it was never enough! deep down you would have wanted me to be the one to drown that day.”

“What are you complaining about? You've always had everything on a silver tray. Money, Power, Status, you've had it all.”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes, I've had everything, but you.” 

“Why do they call you, Ace? I’m highly aware of your gambling addictions again!” It looked like he was thinking about all the wrong things. “Did you kill a man by playing cards?” He raised a brow. 

Eyes peaked in smoldering amusement. “Why does it have to be about killing? Maybe I’m just damn good at cards.” 

“If you were good you wouldn’t be losing lots of money… /My/ money!” Sharply spitting through gritted teeth, he fist smashed over the mahogany table. 

“Also is my money since I am your only son.” Clicking my tongue. “And whose fault is that?” He tilted his head to the side. 

Clenched my jaw with his accusations. “The first man that I hurt had an ace under his sleeve at the game so I sliced him with the same ace of spades down his throat.” watching the glitch in his throat as he swall

[alice-apparently]

theory:

9-year old Phillip Hamilton’s part in the song “Take A Break” is rigged; secretly completely written by Eliza Hamilton to get her husband excited, away from his work, and, most importantly, into her bed.

textual evidence:

the line “I have a sister but I want a little brother”

#hamilton #hamilton musical #lin manuel miranda #hamilton fan theory #hamilton fandom #fan theory #phillip hamilton #eliza hamilton #alexander hamilton #not surprised #she just wants him in her bed and she’s not above using her nine-year-old son to get there #not that it worked #eliza x alexander hamilton

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #smut #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

[electric--blanket]

a place where the heart rests

so, because @thekaiserroll drew fanart of my fanfiction i decided to return the favour by writing a long Wintersberg one-shot based off of her short comic! i hope you enjoy touch-starved Heisenberg.

warnings for death (not for main characters) and some angst.

read on ao3

--

Mama… I want mama. It hurts.

Where’s mama?

Karl Heisenberg always suffered from nightmares. Even before he was taken in by Mother Miranda — as a child, Heisenberg often experienced night terrors that had him screaming in his bed. There were distant memories in the back of his mind, where he’d wake from a terrible dream that had him screaming for his mother — and she’d always come to his side. In that terribly large, cold estate that Heisenberg once called home, it always felt so lonely. But, his mother always eased his fears; with her silk nightgown and the distinct smell of expensive soap. Her soft fingers would comb through Heisenberg’s locks of ashen brown hair, hushing him in a soft tone of voice — a voice he could no longer remember.

During the experiments, it was the only thing Heisenberg begged for when he felt the cadou infesting his body. It felt like a worm wriggling around in the wet soil during a storm, curling and writhing through his organs. He screamed for his mother, wishing she would save him from the pain and take him home again. A seventeen-year-old boy screaming for his mother to come and save him looked utterly pathetic from Mother Miranda’s perspective, and the feeling of fear only intensified when she stroked Heisenberg’s hair whilst he screamed. A soft whisper that uttered, “I’m your mother now, child.” It made Heisenberg nearly vomit.

That was the last time someone had ever touched him so tenderly. He’d not felt a loving touch since then and ducked away from Miranda’s so-called ‘motherly’ touches.

At first, Heisenberg coped with the intense trauma of his bodily changes by taking it in stride and calling his newfound power of magnetism a ‘gift’. He knew deep down it was the opposite: it stopped him from ageing, rendered him infertile and stripped away his dignity by becoming a slave to Miranda. It took a long time for Heisenberg to fully process what had happened to him. His father had left him in the clutches of a madwoman, and his life only got worse from there.

In a fit of rage — perhaps at the age of twenty-nine — he revisited his parent's estate to confront the man he could no longer call ‘father’. He had aged since Heisenberg last saw him, but those steel eyes he’d inherited were still as hard as ever. His mother lingered in a doorway just down the hall, but she didn’t dare come to greet her son as he snapped with a short, interrupted breath. Heisenberg had grabbed his father by the neck and pinned him to the nearest wall, knocking down a beautiful oil painting his mother adored. His fingers didn’t seem to stop, squeezing on the skin and bone until he felt a sickening crack vibrate beneath his fingers.

Heisenberg hadn’t meant it, not really. It was as if a demon had taken control of his body and sought revenge that barely mattered anymore. He didn’t realise what he’d done until he heard the sound of his mother screaming; distraught and fearful of her own son that she’d once coddled so long ago.

That was the last time Heisenberg saw his mother and father. The estate was quickly abandoned not long after, and from what he knew, his mother took her belongings and moved to Austria with some distant relatives. That large house teased Heisenberg every fucking day, with how it towered near the factory grounds and reminded him of what he’d done. Arson wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but Heisenberg couldn’t resist taking a match to the place and watching it burn. Whatever childhood remained in that house was left in a pile of ashes, and he never looked upon it ever again. All of the silly dreams and hopes he’d had for his life were gone.

That was until Ethan Winters showed up. Nearly a hundred years later, Heisenberg felt something he’d sought after for so long — hope.

**

“Karl? Karl—!”

Mama. I want mama. Everything hurts.

Heisenberg forced his eyes open. It felt like his life was replaying in front of him whilst he was passed out; like watching an old film reel repeating itself and becoming more distorted each time. Up until that very night, Heisenberg’s life had been a series of traumatic events and unforgivable actions.

That night, he’d turned it all around just by laying his eyes on Ethan Winters. A man so incredible, resilient and insane… He’d do anything to get his little girl back. It was the man Heisenberg had oh-so wanted his father to be, and he admired that about Ethan. He’d never been so good at expressing his emotions honestly, or even laying out his ideas in a proper fashion to others… Oh, but Ethan was special. He’d shown Heisenberg patience that he’d not been offered before and decided to join him at his side to kill Miranda. Together.

“Karl… Fuck— Don’t die on me, asshole.”

Ethan… Ethan…

Above the metal remnants of what his mutated body had used as a shell, he could hear Ethan pushing the scrap aside to try and find Heisenberg buried beneath it. He could also hear the distinct cries of a distressed baby, something that brought him back to Earth. Heisenberg reached up through the metal until his bare, calloused fingers brushed up against Ethan’s soft knuckles. There was a moment of silence when their skin touched, but Ethan didn’t waste any time in grabbing Heisenberg’s hand and pulling him out.

The moment the pressure around his body ceased, Heisenberg felt the telltale feeling of sickening warmth seeping from many wounds across his body. The cadou inside him didn’t react too well to it, trying to cope with the trauma done by squirming and pulsating inside of him. Heisenberg drank in the expression of Ethan’s relieved face for just a moment, only until it warped into one of worry and horror. Heisenberg was weak, and his knees buckled beneath the weight of his torso before he fell back onto the ground.

The baby cupped carefully in one of Ethan’s arms began to cry again as Ethan jostled her accidentally in an attempt to help Heisenberg. A baby crying wasn’t really helping Heisenberg’s already distressed state, but it made him realise just how fucked he was. There was no way they would get away in time together, and Heisenberg was too injured to walk. The cadou might have helped to some degree, but it didn’t ease the burning pain in his body, and the loss of blood that was making him dizzy.

Ethan’s horrified expression was pinned on an appendage from the Megamycete, which rose up from the cave systems like a flower bud in spring, ready to bloom. The small, red flashing light alerted him to the fact that Chris Redfield had succeeded in planting the bomb. They had to leave.

“Go.”

A silence hung in the air for just a moment, and Heisenberg didn’t realise what he’d just said. For the first time in his miserable existence, he was being selfless and urging Ethan to leave him behind. It was the last thing Heisenberg wanted.

Don’t leave me here. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want to die yet.

“Fuck you,” Ethan’s voice trembled with venom, “I’m not leaving you here now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Heisenberg let out a bitter chuckle, tasting the blood seeping from his gums as he grinned, “I don’t think we have any time to be arguing about this, buttercup.”

“No. I— Mia’s dead, Karl. I need you.”

That’s right. Heisenberg briefly recalled Miranda’s kidnapping of the not-so-innocent woman and the experimentation that followed. Unfortunately, her body gave in due to her state after giving birth and she died on Miranda’s operating table. Ethan’s wife was dead, and Rose was now left without a mother’s loving touch.

“I said go. Rose needs her papa intact, not blown to pieces.” Heisenberg insisted, slumping back against the pile of scrap metal.

“Damn it—” Ethan looked hesitant to leave Heisenberg. It was a truly sweet sentiment: to see someone care about him after all this time. After all of the terrible things he’d done, and the love he’d been deprived of… Someone cared about him. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to die like this.

“Fuck.” Ethan stammered again, licking his dry lips and swallowing, “Karl… I… Thank you.”

“... Yeah. I know, Ethan.”

That was all he needed. A trembling, watery smile shot his way before Ethan held Rose close with both arms and turned to run.

He’s going to be a great father.

Heisenberg looked up at the plant-like form the Megamycete had taken, looming down upon the ceremony courtyard with writhing mold creeping closer to Heisenberg. It was then that he decided that giving in like this wasn’t who he was: he was a fighter to his last breath.

In a last attempt to preserve his life, Heisenberg parted the pile of scrap metal and shuffled beneath it all. He rolled his wrist, the cocoon of metal surrounding him and tightening. The metal creaked, drowning out the sounds of the mold writhing around the metal to try and get inside. Heisenberg closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. I won’t die. Not yet.

The explosion that followed shortly after was deafening, causing the entire ground to shake beneath him and the metal to shudder against his body. It felt painful, rippling off his injured skin like that… But, fortunately for Heisenberg, the explosion wasn’t nuclear — the blast was enough to do the job and wipe out the mold and the Megamycete.

A silence followed the explosion, brick and ash collapsing against Heisenberg’s metal cocoon. Each noise made him flinch, and his fingers twitched instinctively as some final line of defence. He didn’t know how long it was before he felt brave enough to let his guard down and release his telekinetic grip on the metal. The scraps suddenly slumped, collapsing around him as Heisenberg pushed the metal off of his body and emerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self.

The smoke and dust still remained, causing Heisenberg to cough heavily as he took a sharp inhale of the air. He squinted through the dust and remains of what was left of his home town and realised how much he’d lost. It hit him all at once; his childhood, his parents and his fucked up little family. Even though he hated Miranda and his makeshift siblings deeply, they were all he truly had left to call ‘family’. It was over in the blink of an eye, and Heisenberg suddenly felt like a child all over again. Like a child waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

Heisenberg’s fingers twitched into tight fists, clamping his mouth shut as tears threatened to spill down his face. Even after all this, he tried to will himself not to cry, to never let down the walls he had so carefully built. But, at that moment there was nothing left to keep the foundations upright. Heisenberg’s fists loosened, and he brought his hands up to cover his face instinctively. A knot seemingly untied itself in his chest and throat, and a guttural sob left him. Maybe — just maybe — it was okay.

**

Navigating the woods was even worse during a snowstorm at night. It was bad enough that Heisenberg’s body was weak from his healing injuries, but it felt haggard from his intense emotional breakdown. In a strange sense, he felt relief from it but at the same time, it felt awfully inconvenient. Heisenberg was sure he looked like a terrible mess; his clothes were torn and his hair was damp with clumps of ash hanging from his silver locks. Not to mention the blood staining his clothes, and his valuable dog tags that hung low on his chest.

In his many idle chats with Ethan before they fought Miranda, he could recall the other man mentioning he didn’t live too far from the village. It was a fair distance away, but not too far that it would be impossible to reach if your car broke down on the road between them. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant or short walk.

By the time Heisenberg even managed to reach a place that looked like a livable home, he was close to collapsing in the snow… But, he held out. The lights were turned off inside, but a motion sensor light on the property turned on once Heisenberg got close enough. The bulb blinded him briefly, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes as he walked up the porch to the door. Heisenberg sluggishly lifted his hand, knocking on the door as hard as he could and leaning against the frame. It took a few moments before he could see a light turn on inside from the windows, and the sound of someone walking down a wooden staircase slowly.

The person on the other side of the door stopped before they reached for the doorknob, and they spoke out.

“Who is it?”

Ethan Winters. That voice Heisenberg had missed so dearly; in all of its glory and full of caution. It almost made him laugh.

“Let me in, Ethan. I’m freezing.”

“Karl?”

“As smart as ever, Ethan. Can you hurry up?”

Ethan was quick to unlock the door and remove the security chain, twisting the doorknob and pulling it open. There, Ethan was standing in a pristine white shirt and some boxers that hung low on his hips… Along with a pair of comical slippers that seemed to resemble a cartoon dog. Heisenberg’s lips twitched into a tired grin.

“Oh my, too much skin, Ethan. Back in my day—”

“Shut up and get in here!”

Ethan grabbed Heisenberg’s arm, tugging him inside to shield him from the snowstorm outside. He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it back up, and the two men finally stood face-to-face. There was a silence that hung in the air, with so many unanswered questions on the tip of Ethan’s tongue, but none came. Without any further hesitation, Ethan threw his arms around Heisenberg’s neck and tugged him close for an embrace.

It was the first time Ethan had touched him in such a way. So full of affection and genuinity, it made Heisenberg’s fingers tremble with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to do with his hands: so overcome with the touches that smothered him. His brows creased into an expression of relief, and Heisenberg’s steel eyes fluttered shut as he succumbed to the hug. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist, squeezing him carefully and burying his face into Ethan’s shoulder. The smell of talcum powder and formula milk permeated his shirt, giving Heisenberg the comfort he craved. He never wanted Ethan to stop touching him, and he was content to stay like this for as long as he could — to make up for all the time he’d lost aching after affection.

“I thought…” Ethan mumbled slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

“Mm.” Heisenberg hummed lowly in response, curling his fingers into Ethan’s shirt. “So did I. Turns out I’m hard to kill.”

Ethan snorted softly.

**

As it turned out, Heisenberg wasn’t too bad with kids.

It was a tough adjustment for the two men at first; Ethan had to keep Heisenberg a well-guarded secret as he was moved to a new location with Rose (courtesy of the BSAA). Heisenberg followed their steps at a safe distance, but he was never too far from them. Understandably, Ethan was moved into a smaller home: a humble bungalow in a quiet German village. Once the BSAA had left Ethan in peace with Rose, it didn’t take long before Heisenberg settled into the bungalow with them.

Ethan had insisted that if Heisenberg was going to stay there with him and Rose, then he’d need to learn to help take care of the baby. At first, he was extremely hesitant to do something akin to a parental figure… But, Rose was a surprisingly sweet baby. She didn’t fuss too much and rarely threw a tantrum over the little things. Rose was the right amount of responsibility for Heisenberg, and that made him a patient parent.

He’d been taught how to properly hold her (after many lectures), how to prepare her formula and change her. Rose was understandably unhappy with Heisenberg’s presence at first, perhaps longing for her mother that was no longer around… But, after a few months, she took to Heisenberg very well.

Because of Karl’s lack of mortality and infertility, he never thought he’d take the figure of a father like this… But, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome opportunity. He’d even upgraded from sleeping on the couch to Ethan’s bed.

The first night Ethan invited him to bed, Heisenberg could tell from the flustered look on Ethan’s face that it took a lot of courage to ask him to bed. A sexual joke lingered on the tip of Heisenberg’s tongue, but he bit it back in favour of keeping the proposal on the table. Instead, Heisenberg had nodded with a cheeky grin and followed Ethan to bed.

There had been some nights where the loss of Mia hit Ethan harder than he’d liked it to — even after Mia’s work with The Connections was revealed, he had still loved her to a degree. Those nights were the hardest. All Heisenberg could do was hold Ethan in his arms and comfort him with nothing more than his presence.

This invitation into Ethan’s bed was far more intimate than a comforting hug. At first, they stayed a polite distance apart on either side of the bed, with Ethan turned on his side whilst Heisenberg stared up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, his eyes created shapes that danced across the ceiling and warped before him. Much like the mold that infested him, it was as if it continued to taunt him with its presence. After a moment, Heisenberg finally turned onto his side and glanced at the lump that was Ethan with his back to him. That urge to touch returned to the forefront of Heisenberg’s mind. It was that deep ache in his chest, like a lump of flour stuck in a smooth dough that needed to be coaxed inward.

He reached out but stopped himself before he could touch, trying to plan the best way to move forward with what he wanted. Heisenberg pursed his lips, shuffling his body closer to Ethan’s back until he finally slid his arm over Ethan’s waist. He could feel Ethan’s body freeze and tense up a little, which made Heisenberg’s heart feel like stopping altogether. Had he gone too far?

But after a moment, Ethan relaxed, pressing his chest back into Karl slowly. It was all the permission he needed to slot himself fully against Ethan and quietly seek out his hand. Once Heisenberg found it, he carefully laced their fingers together as he held Ethan like that, tugging him close with his elbow.

No words were spoken in the darkness, but a silent understanding of what they both wanted. Heisenberg finally felt complete like this, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly. His body suddenly felt tired, releasing all the tension it had been holding trying to psyche himself up to do it.

A feeling of affection swelled in Heisenberg’s chest as he held Ethan, finally giving in to the darkness and drifting away with their bond now stronger than ever.

**

“Are you fucking insane, Ethan?!”

Chris Redfield. A thorn in Heisenberg’s side, but not as bad as Miranda. His voice filling their home put Heisenberg on edge, but it didn’t really matter too much to him. It was around ten in the morning, and the couple had just had breakfast. The television was on, playing some cartoons in the background as Rose was sitting on the soft carpet of the living area with her toys, and Heisenberg sat close to her.

When Chris made an unexpected visit, and he spotted Heisenberg in the living room, the yelling began. Ethan had kept Chris just outside of the room so that Rose didn’t see her father getting angry, and Heisenberg made sure to keep her attention on her toys. Heisenberg was wearing a pair of tartan boxers, along with a button-up pyjama shirt with a white tank top beneath it. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of bedtime fashion, but it made him comfortable enough at night.

When the yelling only got worse and Rose seemed irritated by the noise, Heisenberg carefully brought Rose into his lap and crossed his legs.

“Hmm,” He hummed in feigned thoughtfulness, “Does ol’ Karl need to perform for little Rose again?” Heisenberg sighed dramatically, “Oh, the things I do for you.”

He turned his body subtly to the kitchen area, holding his hand out and focusing on one of the drawers. It slid open, a few tablespoons floating out from a cutlery tray. Heisenberg pulled his hand back, the spoons floating across to the living area and bringing them to a stop in front of him and Rose. With a simple, slow roll of his wrist, the spoons began to twirl and move in a circular motion above Rose.

Her eyes widened with fascination, the corners of her mouth opening into a gleeful smile. Absently, she reached up with her soft, pink hands and tried to reach for the spoons half-heartedly as they continued their motions. A soft laugh bubbled from her, causing Karl to smile softly.

“He’s a dangerous bioweapon, Ethan. He could hurt Rose!”

Heisenberg managed to hone in on those words; a sharp pain digging into his chest when he realised the implications Chris was trying to make. That Heisenberg was a monster. A bioweapon without feeling. A creature that would kill a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ethan pointing wordlessly at the soft scene of Heisenberg with Rose in his lap, entertaining her with spoons. That was all he needed to say, really — without even saying it. Even Chris was at a loss for words, and he quietly relented. Ethan was surely in for an afternoon of lectures.

It made Heisenberg smile a little more, turning his head subtly towards Ethan and catching his gaze. It was his quiet way of saying thank you. It went beyond thanking Ethan for trusting him with Rose but thanking Ethan for listening to Heisenberg, taking him into his home and loving him. Even though they’d never spoken those three little words out loud, maybe they didn’t need to. Their actions, affections and closeness spoke those words loud enough.

Truly, after all this time, Heisenberg didn’t think he was capable of ever being loved or trusted. Now that he’d left that horrible life behind, he was now a father, a friend and possibly a lover. The trauma would always remain, yes, like the cadou and the mutations. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy like this, in this simple little life he’d started to build with Ethan.

Maybe it would be okay.

#ethan winters x karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x ethan winters #heisenberg x ethan #heisenwinters #wintersberg #winterberg #karl heisenberg #ethan winters #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil fic #fanfiction #oneshot

[sunnysviolin]

Oh god that. That shattered AU broke me. Kel angst is my new horrible addiction and I swear I. I need to know... wtf happens with him and Hero. I can see so vividly Hero trying to keep the last semblance of his old brother back but it just fails every time, literally the only reason Hero is trying to continue on is because he doesn't want to leave Kel behind, that he made a promise and he was going to stick to it. So I must ask... does Kel kill himself as well? Or even accidentally? My heart h u r t s pardner..... sad yeehaw

Welllll we know the answer to the last part of that ask, but I do want to continue this series, so I’m gonna use the one ask that I have about it. Before anything I will say like I always do with Shattered AU that this is a dark AU. There is no happy endings, and pay attention to the TWs. 

TW: Suicide, TW: Depression, TW: Major Character Death, TW: Rage, TW: Grief

Dear Hero, 

No one else wrote a letter, but I couldn’t do that to you. I know that you spent so much time wondering if you could have done anything different for everyone else. I want you to know you couldn’t have done anything different for me

Hero had begged his parents to be allowed to stay. He had begged and pleaded to take the semester off. It was just one semester, he was still going to graduate early at this rate, why couldn’t he just stay? Hero knew Kel needed him. Kel might not be opening up, but being with Hero seemed to be comforting for his little brother at the very least. Hero knew that if he had more time, he could crack through Kel’s shell and try to start healing what was inside.

I remember when Mari died. You were so tired and upset. I didn’t get it then, but I do now. I know that when you get tired like this it’s hard to do anything. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to think, it’s just all so hard. I probably didn’t make it any easier by pretending everything was fine. I understand why you snapped at me. 

Hero’s parents had practically thrown him onto the train. They reassured him over and over that they could take care of Kel. They would keep an eye on him, they would make sure he took his meds, and ate, and got to school on time. They said this all while rolling their eyes and giving him good natured sighs. They both acted like this was something they were used to, but Hero knew this was different. When this had happened to him, they had left him to find his own way back. He wouldn’t let that happen to Kel, mostly because Hero wasn’t sure Kel would find his way back. 

Right before you left for school you told me you always felt guilty for not coming back that night. I want you to know that even if you had, I would still be doing this.  

They had forced Hero back to school, but it didn’t matter. Hero couldn’t think about school at all. All he could think about was how to help Kel. He ignored his classes in favor of reading about recovering after loss, he didn’t bother to study anything except what might help him get through to his brother. There wasn’t anything more important than Kel right now, and if he was being completely honest, there was a part of Hero that was spitefully going to fail the semester just to prove to his parents how wrong they were. Above all, Hero called Kel every single night. Their phone calls last year had been frequent, but short. Usually just a quick fifteen minute chat updating each other on their days. Now their phone calls lasted hours and hours, and mostly consisted of Hero rambling on while Kel hummed and made one word answers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was important. 

You were why I didn’t do this yet, even though it’s been on my mind for years. First Mari, then Basil, then Sunny. How could I ever do that to you, when I knew what it felt like to be in your shoes? You were trying so hard to help me, you’re still trying so hard. You call and you call and you always want to listen. I’m sorry I don’t want to talk. 

For the first time, Kel didn’t pick up the phone. His parents said Kel was sleeping, and they could talk tomorrow. Hero’s stomach dropped, and his mind went fuzzy. He needed to be there, he needed to see Kel. If he couldn’t hear Kel’s voice, then he needed to see his little brother to know he was still alive. He must’ve said the last part out loud, because his mother was adamant that he stay at school. She was so sure that both of her sons needed to get back to their normal routines, that the way to get things to normal was to force them to be that way. Hero knew better. He knew Kel needed him. He hung up on his parents, pacing back and forth with shaking hands. He didn’t know what to do. It was too late for a train, and he didn’t have a car. Hero just didn’t know what to do. 

I know you’re trying, and I hope you know I was trying too. I really was, I promise. It’s just...it’s too much. It’s all too much I’m just done. I’m done trying, and I’m done waiting for things to get better when I know they won’t. I don’t see the point anymore. I’m going to die regardless, so why should I go through fifty more years of feeling like this, only to get to the same end? 

Hero grabbed his shoes, running out of the dorm room and across campus to his friend’s midnight study group. They had started doing this for their organic chemistry class in their first year and then kept it up because midnight was the only time that the library truly was quiet enough to get work done. He hadn’t joined them in weeks, and he wasn’t sure they would even consider him a friend anymore, but Hero needed their help. One look at his wild desperate eyes and his pleas, and Tristan was grabbing his keys and handing them to Hero. It was an eight hour car ride, nine and a half because he hit traffic. It was nine in the morning when Hero got home and found the letter on his bed. When they found Kel, the police told him and his parents that Kel had most likely died early that morning, around 7:30 or 8:00. Hero was sure if he had just been an hour faster in making his decision to come home, then Kel might still be here. 

I know it’s going to hurt you, I know that I’m being selfish, but like I said. It’s just too much now. I don’t know if I believe in God or anything. I don’t know what kind of God makes everything that happened to us happen, but if there is a God out there, I hope he lets us all be together when this is all over. We can go for a picnic by the pond like we used to. That’s where I’m going now. That seems like a good place.

He waited until the police left to speak to his parents. He didn’t even mean to start fighting with them, but there was no way he couldn’t. He had started off just talking, trying to ask them why they hadn’t listened to him when he had known. They refused to hold themselves accountable. That’s why he had ended up in a screaming match with his mother. That had to be why rage was boiling in his veins and clouding his thoughts. Hero had begged them to let him stay. Hero had told them Kel needed him. They hadn’t listened, and now his brother was dead. His brother, the love of his life, his friends, all of them gone. Kel was all he had left, and they had taken him away. 

I did love you. I did. I promise I did. This doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.

Hero took the letter and the keys to Tristan’s car. He didn’t need to stay, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t care that his mother was wailing about losing her boy, he didn’t care that his father was trying to get him to come sit and be with them. He just didn’t care. The only person he had left to care about was gone, because Hero hadn’t been there. He wasn’t going to go to another funeral, he wasn’t going to see them lower his little brother into the ground. He wasn’t going to continue the endless loop of torture that his life seemed to have on repeat. 

I’m sorry, Hero. I hope you can forgive me. Maybe this is for the best. Now you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

Hero walked down his driveway to his borrowed car, ignoring his parent’s calling behind him. There, right where the pavement met the road, was Aubrey. Her hair was messy all around her, her eyes bloodshot. The police had told him she was there when they arrived. They had questioned her, but after reading Kel’s note, they were sure she hadn’t been involved. Hero could have told them that himself, but it seemed no one believed that he knew anything. Maybe they were right. She asked him if he was leaving. She asked if he was coming back. His silence was response enough. She walked away before he could say anything, and that was good. Hero didn’t have anything to say anymore. 

Maybe I’ll see you again. 

There was really only one road out of Faraway these days. The construction around town left all the exits blocked off. Hero had memoized the route to and from his college almost a year ago, just to be safe. He had to take the third right to get on the highway. Hero drove past the third right. If he missed the third right, he could take the next left and turn around. He ignored the left. Hero drove straight until he couldn’t drive straight anymore, and then on a whim he took the right turn. He wasn’t sure where he was going exactly, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. 

#tw: suicide #tw: depression #tw: overdose #tw: major character death #tw: rage #tw: grief #omori #omori au #shattered au #omori hero #omori kel #omori aubrey #Yeahhh Hero's parents fucked up here #Pretty bad #But they're those people that just want to sweep everything under the rug and let it be okay #Thats where both of the boys get it from #With stuff like this #it can't get swept #asks #anon

[svnflowervol666]

Pinky Promise (dad!Harry)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Harry introduces a certain special someone to the newest addition of his family.

Author’s Note: Surprise! Here’s some boy dad!Harry on this fine week night. I feel like Harry is almost always written as as girl dad (guilty as charged tho), so I wanted to show the boys some love. I didn’t really call this one an ‘x reader,’ because this one’s mostly about Harry and his bub, but the missus is still there, don’t worry! I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback of any kind, likes and especially reblogs are super helpful to keep me motivated to post more. Take care and TPWK.

     The Styles household was always filled with noise. Whether it was contagious laughter echoing off of the walls in the kitchen, the pitter patter of pudgy feet bursting through the back door from the garden, or the low humming of the secondhand record player coming from the living room. The sounds were comforting, reassuring to those that lived there. While the ruckus caused by something like which Joni Mitchell song Harry should play on the guitar before bedtime or what color everyone’s nails should be painted each week might seem chaotic to some, it represented a kind of tranquility that at one point did not seem possible to grasp.

    But today, in the modest, ivy-covered cottage with a pastel-yellow door, it was quiet. The sun poured in from the two open windows of the living area, filling the room with a still brightness that only London could emote. Dust particles danced in the light, drifting along through their own invisible current. The beginnings of the city could be seen in the distance, visible in a foggy haze with promises of sweet treats and adventue-packed days. But no sound, as the newest member of the Styles family had commanded the attention and affection of everyone within its walls.

    “She’s so little,” the youngest spoke up. Although he was now technically the oldest. He outstretched his hand out to caress the petite foot that stuck out from beneath the periwinkle-colored muslin blanket.

    “I know,” Harry replied, watching the swaddled newborn’s toes curl in reaction to being tickled by her brother, “I remember when you were this tiny, too.”

    “I was?” he asked, scratching at his chocolate brown curls that never laid flat.

    Harry nodded in affirmation, recalling the early morning when his son had been born prematurely. He’d spent nearly ten days resting in an uncomfortable vinyl recliner beside his girlfriend’s, who was now his wife, hospital bed counting down the minutes until the nurse would give them the “ok” to go visit their bub in the NICU. Harry stared in awe at his newborn through the glass of the incubator, using the open portal on the side to reach in and stroke his cheek with the faintest of touches. He was covered in wires and tubes, surrounded by monitors and beeping machines, all tasked with keeping his underdeveloped organs afloat. It was the most pitiful thing he had ever seen, and Harry still has those nights where he’s plagued with memories from the hospital. While the day he became a father was most certainly the best day of his life, it was one of the most traumatic experiences he’s ever been through.

    “Mhmm. You were actually even smaller when you were born,” Harry prodded, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at him.

    “No I wasn’t! the toddler jabbed back, crinkling his nose up at his parents, his aquamarine colored eyes turning into tiny slits on either side.

    “Umm, yes you were,” Harry’s wife replied with a chuckle from where she sat beside the rest of her family on the couch, “We bought the tiniest size clothes we could find and they still didn’t fit your teeny little bum.”

    The boy sat confused, trying to comprehend how a person could be smaller than his sister, let alone be so tiny that clothes didn’t even fit them.

    “Well, I’m big now. Right?”

    “Much bigger,” Harry reassured him, “But now that you’re bigger, you have t’ take care of your sister. You have to teach her how to be kind and share your toys with her. Think yeh can do tha’?”

    “Yes! C-can she swim with me in the pool?” he stumbled over his words, overjoyed by the idea of someone always being around to play his sacred water games with him in his nana’s pool.

    “Not yet, bubba,” Harry laughed, tickled by his son’s enthusiasm, “We have t’ wait until she’s a little bit older. But I’m sure she’d love to swim with you at Nana’s when she knows how.”

    “Okayyy,” the boy replied, slightly defeated.

    “Do you want t’ hold her?” Harry asked, gesturing to the sleeping bundle in his lap, her puffy eyelids closed peacefully as tiny, sporadic grunts left her little belly.

    “Yeah, but I don’t know how,” he professed, his plush, pink toddler lips turning down into a frown.

    “’S alright, I’ll show you,” Harry then carefully shuffled from his position on the couch, turning so that he was facing his son.

    “So, first, you have to make sure you hold her head because she can’t keep it up on her own,” Harry started, reaching over to place the baby girl into his son’s arms.

    Unlike the last time, Harry’s hands didn’t shake. He wasn’t afraid like he was before, when his arms trembled as he took his newborn son into his arms for the first time, petrified that he was going to accidentally smother him or drop him and that the worst thing he could imagine would come true. No. This time, his hands were sturdy, protective over his new daughter as he was preparing to introduce her to his firstborn for the very first time.

     Harry’s wife looked on lovingly as his son took the baby from him excitingly, his left hand cupping her head gently. Her tired eyes were filled with love when he wrapped his arm protectively around her little tufts of peach fuzz in the best way that a five-year-old with mediocre hand-eye coordination could.

    “You also have t’ hold her bum so she doesn’t squirm out of your arms.”

    Harry took his son’s hand into his, guiding him to place his tiny forearm along the baby’s back with his palm resting on her diaper-clad bottom. When he was confident of his son’s grip on the infant, he pulled back. He made sure to hover over him with his brawny, tanned arms just ghosting over his son’s. Just in case.

    The boy was elated. His sister was warm and soft, and she looked like one of the stuffed animals that he slept with every night. He couldn’t believe that the person he talked to in his mother’s belly every night for nine months and gave kisses to each morning before nursery school was here and real and now she gets to live with him forever.

    “She’s so cute,” he spoke in gentle whisper this time, remembering what his mum had told him about being quiet around the baby so that she doesn’t wake up cranky.

    He was absolutely smitten over her. Everything about her was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his brief time on Earth: her button nose that sat perfectly above her lips, her miniature fingers wound tightly her fist as if she was ready to fight, her little tongue that barely poked through her mouth each time she yawned. He could stare at her forever if he could.

    Instinctively, he pulled her into his bony chest for a hug, squeezing a little too harder than he should have. The baby girl tensed in his grasp at the motion, the beginnings of a shrill whine escaping her pruney lips.

    “Whoa, bub. You have t’ be careful,” Harry intervened, loosening his son’s arms so that the baby rested peacefully in the boy’s lap again.

    “She’s fragile. You can’t squeeze her like that,” the boy’s mum reminded him.

    “Sorry, Baby,” said the boy as he reached down to press his tiny lips to her eyebrow.

    Her forehead wrinkled up at the contact, similar to one of auntie Gemma’s baby puppies, thought the boy to himself. He also thought that she kind of looked like one of the puppies too, but he kept that to himself.

    Harry and his wife watched their children interacted, how his son was brushing his thumb along her skull, how her face relaxed at the steady motion. They were already in sync with each other, already comforting each other just by their presence. They were both besotted with their daughter, but Harry thinks he might be just a bit more in love with her than his wife. Harry had gotten used to raising his son, while he taught him to be a kindhearted and gentle creature, there had always been a degree of roughness to which he interracted with him. His daughter, however, was made of glass, Harry had convinced himself. He vowed to do whatever it took to make sure she never shed a single tear because of him or anything else he had control over.

    Now, Harry had two babies. One boy and one girl, just like his family before this one. The similarities slightly terrified him. His son was soft and gentle and loving, just like Harry had been as a child. He was sensitive, always yearning to be held and touched in the way that Harry had when he was his age. His daughter, even though she was only a few days old, was already a stubborn little fighter like his sister. She cried her lungs out within her first few hours of being born, kicking and screaming until it looked like her face was turning blue. She hated the harsh lights that the doctors shone in her eyes and their cold hands that poked and prodded at her belly like she was a science experiment. It wasn’t until she was in the arms of her family that her wailing subsided.

    It was thoughts like these that felt surreal to Harry. He never saw himself as someone that could be in the position he is now. He’d always thought he’d be an eternal bachelor, someone who only ever stayed with someone for a certain period of time before everything inevitably blew up in his face and he’d be back at square one. He never thought that he’d be the type of person with a wife and a white picket fence and a slew of babies; he never thought that he could be the type of person who could be this happy.

    “Bubby, can I ask you to promise me something?” Harry asked as he scooped the boy into his lap, making sure the baby was secure so that the three of them laid in one pile on the couch.

     He pulled his wife closer as well, making sure they were shoulder to shoulder and he felt surrounded on all sides by the ones he loved the most.

    “What?” his son asked, peering up at his papa with huge eyes that resembled saucers, his long, dark eyelashes brushing his brow bones.

    “I want you to promise me,” Harry began, wrapping his arms tighter around his two babies, resting his chin in the crook of his son’s neck, “tha’ whatever happens t’ the two of you, no matter how many times you get into fights. No matter how mad you might make each other. That you’ll love her. No matter what. That you’ll always be her big brother.”

    Harry hadn’t realized, but his voice trailed off near the end. His voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that only his son could hear. He pressed his lips to side of his bub’s forehead, an attempt to soothe both his son and himself.

    “Can yeh do that f’ me?”

    The boy in Harry’s lap pondered his father’s words. His finger went absentmindedly to stroke his sister’s hand, astonished when her fingers unfurled from the tight fist they’d been bound in all day. He slipped his pinky into her palm just as her muscles relaxed so that she was now clutching tightly to his digit.

    He had no idea of the weight that Harry’s words carried. He had no idea of the thoughts of uncertainty that haunted Harry about never getting to this point in his life. He doesn’t understand the cruelty that exists outside the walls of his home besides the pesky little boy in his class that borrows his crayons and doesn’t give them back. He doesn’t know that other children don’t grow up in homes with parents that love each other like his do.

    He didn’t know any of these things, but he sensed that it meant a great deal to Harry, and he wanted to make sure that his father knew he could count on him for anything because he loved him with all of his heart and Harry proved that to him every single day.

    “Pinky promise, papa,” the boy responds, loosening his hand that was wrapped around his sister to offer it to Harry.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry styles

[breanime]

Bre’s Boys Picture Preference: Boy Dads

Disclaimer: None of these babies belong to me, they are Instagram babies!

(With a surprise Bonus Boy!)

Billy Russo: Billy never, not in a million years, imagined himself with a family--let alone with a child. Especially after his...accident. Every glance in the mirror was a sharp reminder of Billy’s mistakes, of his failings, of the fact that he was a parentless monster that no one could ever love. And then you came. And he fell in love. He was terrified when he learned you were pregnant, terrified of the awesome responsibility that came with it, and the closer the due date got, the more specific his fears got. Namely, the fear that his child would look at his face and all of the scars that were on it...and be afraid. But he wasn’t. Your son adored his father; his sweet little face would light up in a toothless smile at the sight of Billy’s face. Billy loved having a son; he loved dressing him up in his comfortable little clothes, he loved his son’s high pitched giggle, he loved the way his son held onto his fingers, trying to wobble his way through his first steps, but most of all... He loved that your son wasn’t afraid of him. From day one, the scars on Billy’s face never bothered the baby. In fact, the day he was born, when Billy first held his son, the baby reached up, eyes still closed, and touched Billy’s face. Billy had flinched, sure that the jagged edges of his scars would hurt the freshly created tiny hand, but all his son did was whine and reach out again until Billy leaned forward and let him touch his face again. And then, in that moment...Billy witnessed his baby boy’s first ever smile, and from then on, he was greeted with that smile every time his son saw his face--his reddened, scarred up face--and every time... Billy smiled back, heart full. 

Logan Delos: As far as Logan was concerned, he spawned the most gorgeous baby the world had ever seen. He could stare at your son all day long and never get tired of it. “Look at that face,” he’d gush as your son spit up on him, “That’s the face of an angel!” It got to the point that you wouldn’t even be surprised anymore when you came home to see Logan, dressed to the nines, with a camera in his hands and your son positioned in a basket, posing. Even as a baby, Logan’s son was always camera ready. “Okay,” you said, putting your purse down and coming to stand beside Logan, looking down at your perfect little bundle in his fleece-lined cashmere onesie, “I get that he’s all dressed up for his modeling gig, but why are you wearing a suit?” “He likes when we dress up together,” Logan answered, snapping a pic as he spoke, “We have a ritual, it’s a whole thing.” You laughed, leaning your head on Logan’s shoulder as you looked down at your baby boy. He had his father’s dark, enchanting eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile as he waved a tiny little fist at you. You noticed that he only waved when he knew Logan was in-between clicks. He was as much of a diva as his Dad. “Okay, okay, enough,” you reached into the basket and picked your son up, kissing his soft cheeks, “How is my baby boy? Huh? Did you have a fun day being an Instagram model with Daddy?” Your son answered you with a happy gurgle, reaching over to Logan--to the camera. You and Logan both laughed, and you rolled your eyes. “Seriously?” You asked, looking over at your son. “He wants to see the results,” Logan came over to you, showing you both the camera, “Here, son, I’ve already picked out my top ten favorites, but this one I think will look good with a nice, soft filter.” You watched, laughing, as your son eagerly stretched in your arms to see the pictures. He really was so much like his father. 

Jax Teller: The Teller smirk had to be genetic. Because when you looked at your Old Man, that smirk on his face as he leaned against the doorway, and when you looked at your son--you saw that same smirk. He had Jax’s eyes too, shimmering, crystal eyes that could make anyone melt--even Grandma Gemma. “What?” You deadpanned, frowning at them both. Your son stood almost as tall as Jax’s knees now, and he crossed his arms just like his father did above him. “I know you two are up to something,” you went on, trying and failing to keep your growing smile at bay, “So what? What do you want?” Your son looked up at Jax, and you watched them have a silent conversation with their blue eyes--as they often did. Finally, they both looked back at you. “So, darlin’,” Jax began, “we were thinking...” “I doubt it,” you drawled with a smirk, “but go on.” “And well...” “Me and Dad think you should let us have breakfast for dinner.” You paused, confused. “Let you? Why would I stop you?” In an instant, a matching grin grew on both of your boys’ faces. “See?” Jax said, looking down at your son. “I told you she’d be down for it!” Your son pumped his fist eagerly. “Yes! Pancakes for dinner!” You laughed, getting up and following them into the kitchen. “You know I’m not cooking a whole breakfast by myself, right?” You asked. Jax laughed, coming up behind you to smack your ass just as your son reached out and kissed the back of your hand--charmers, both of them. “I got egg duty,” Jax announced, going to the fridge. “I can make orange juice! Grandma showed me how!” You watched them move around the kitchen, smiling proudly at your two boys. They were so much alike and brought so much joy to your heart. Truly, they were best friends as much as father and son, and you knew, as your baby boy continued to grow, you’d have another SAMCRO member on your hands. But you also knew, as dangerous as that life could be, that he would always be safe and taken care of, as long as you and Jax were alive. And even when you were both gone, you were confident that you were raising a smart, thoughtful young man, and you knew--while he would, of course, make mistakes--that he would always do his best to protect his family and friends. After all, it was in his genes. 

Coco Cruz: You didn’t know how it happened (okay, you did know: sex), but suddenly, you and Letty were outnumbered. You and Coco had three sons, and just like Coco, they had big ass hair. “Who’s hair is this?!” Letty screamed, brushing hair off of the couch. Coco was on the floor with the boys, teaching them how to build a campfire with stuffed animals and pillows. Your youngest son, who was almost a year old, was more interested in throwing the toys around then the pretend campfire, but still. “It’s probably yours,” Coco answered, grabbing the stuffed lion your youngest son had just thrown and handing it back to him. “No, this is the hair of an inconsiderate MAN,” Letty grumped, hands on her hips. “It’s gotta be one of yours,” you added, “no one sits in that spot but you and the boys.” “I like that spot,” your second son said brightly, his perfect face framed by a huge, curly ponytail, “It’s the best vantage point in the whole living room.” “Yeah,” your oldest son replied, nodding, “You can see the whole room and the you can see the window.” “Remember,” Coco said, picking the baby up and bouncing him on his knee, “The best viewpoint is the one where you see everything, but no one sees you.” “Right,” your second oldest nodded, coping his big brother with the gesture, “You’re s’posed to be secreto, yeah?” Letty rolled her eyes at the antics of her brothers. “Yeah, okay--so what about the hair on the couch, huh? Which one of you snipers-in-training didn’t clean up after himself?” “Not me!” The boys and Coco all yelled at once. The baby also screeched out “baaaaaah”, which you took to be a denial of his guilt as well. “I swear,” you sighed, sitting on the loveseat, smiling at your boys, “I’m just gonna sneak into your beds at night and cut off all your hair.” “No!” The boys all cried out--even the baby (”no” was his new favorite word). Coco laughed, looking over at you, “Come on, baby, we’ll do better, won’t we, mijos?” He turned back to the boys, who all met him with wide, innocent eyes and eager nods, making you laugh. Letty laughed too, plopping down on the once-hair infested couch. “I swear, it’s like you four all share the same braincell,” she paused, looking around, “Huh... This actually is a good spot--” her words were interrupted by your second oldest boy chucking a stuffed duck at her. “You gotta be aware of all your surroundings!” “Dude--” she started. “You too, Mami!” Your oldest son added, throwing a pillow at you so hard, you almost fell off of the loveseat. The boys (and Letty) all erupted in laughter, and you fake glared at your boys. Their response was immediate and, of course, in stereo. “My bad!”

Angel Reyes: “This dude here,” Angel grinned, looking down at your son, “Like.. look at him! Why you got so much sauce, man?” He asked. Your son didn’t answer, he was too busy posing and looking cool. You were nearly in tears, you were laughing so hard. The three of you had decided to walk down to Felipe’s shop, and since it was a bit chilly out, you put a hat on your son and suddenly he was just too damn cool. Angel looked down at your baby boy, grinning wide as he watched your son lean against a building, hands in his pockets. “Papi, stop laughing,” your son said, his little voice making your heart melt, “Momma, take a picture of us!” You laughed, taking out your phone, “Okay, papi, stand right there next to Daddy,” you opened the camera app and felt your heart flip in your chest when you saw them through the lens. Your son was purposefully standing with his hands in his pockets, just like Angel was, and as eager as he was for this photo, he couldn’t hide the smile on his little face. You took a couple of pictures (at one point, they stood back to back with their arms crossed), and laughed as you did. Your boys were so full of life, the physical embodiment of joy. Everyday with your husband and your son was a blessing, so full of laughter and love. You knew what Angel’s childhood had been like, how he’d always thought of himself as the ill-favored son, and you knew he made sure his son never felt unwanted. Your baby boy was the prince of the Reyes family; beloved and cherished and treasured (and okay, maybe a wee bit spoiled), and he knew his Daddy loved him more than anything else in his life because Angel told him every single day. You pocketed your phone and watched as your son reached up for Angel’s hand, and the image of your husband’s big, strong hand carefully holding your baby boy’s had your heart clenching. There was nothing more beautiful than seeing the love between your two boys. Your son looked over at you, a smile--that Angel smile--on his round little face, and held out his other hand. “Come on, Momma, Abuelo is old, we can’t make him wait!” You laughed, taking his hand, and kept walking, you and Angel on either side of your son, your little prince. And you couldn’t be happier. 

Miguel Galindo: Miguel had several body guards on hand, a security team, a nanny, and Nestor at his disposal at all times, and yet when it came to buckling your baby boy into the car, only Miguel could do it. “Okay, let’s make sure we’re safe,” Miguel said cheerfully as he strapped your son into his car-seat, pulling at the straps to make sure they were secure, “Daddy isn’t going anywhere until he knows you’re safe.” Your son smiled up at his father, babbling sweetly at him. You sat next to the car-seat, watching Miguel interact with your son. You loved how protective he was of him; Miguel was a man of wealth, and as such, he had his share of enemies, but as time had gone on, and the Galindo businesses stared going legit, the list of enemies got smaller and smaller. Still, you preferred the cautiousness over recklessness, especially when it came to the safety of your family. “What do you think, mijo?” Miguel asked as he got into the car, nodding at the security guard who closed the door behind him. “Should we stop by the ice cream shop on the way home from picking up your brother from school?” Your baby giggled, clapping his hands excitedly at the mention of ice cream, and you and Miguel laughed. “Sounds like a yes,” you said, reaching over to run a finger against your son’s smooth, chubby cheek. Miguel leaned forward for a moment, directing the driver to start moving, before sitting back and smiling over at you and your son. He reached out and smoothed down your son’s hair; it had the same natural curly swoop Miguel’s hair did. “He’s getting big,” he said, “You think it’s time to get a new car-seat?” You smiled, watching as your son reached up and took hold of Miguel’s finger, always happy to be close to his dad. “He’s got another few months in this one,” you answered, “Although it might be time to get a new baby wrap-around. The one you have is starting to get worn out.” “Yeah, that’s cause this one likes to hang off my chest while I work. I’m telling you, he’s gonna be a shrewd businessman, this one!” You both laughed. Miguel adored being close to your son and did everything he could to avoid putting him down. So the head of the Galindo cartel would strap his youngest son to his chest as he handled business and called the shots, because as much of a boss as your husband was, he was powerless when it came to his kids--and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Nick Amaro: It had been a long day for Nick. As much as he loved his job, as much as he loved helping and protecting others, it could be incredibly draining. He’d just closed a case he and the squad had been working for a month, and while justice had been served, and Nick was happy with the results, it had taken a lot out of him. The things he saw, the horrific stories, the disgusting perps--it was a lot. Plus he’d been forced to work long days and long nights, and Nick hated being away from you and the kids. So when he came home early in the morning, fresh off of a 12 hour shift, he was ready to give you and the kids a quick kiss in your beds before going to sleep himself. But when he opened the door to your house, he was greeted with soft Cubano music and the best sound of all--his baby boy’s precious laugh. Immediately, before Nick had even stepped fully through the door, a smile grew on his face. It was early, but apparently the baby was wide awake, which of course meant you were wide awake. Nick walked over to the corner of the couch, where your son was sitting up, wearing his favorite bear bib, and laughing at the sight of his little black shoes. “Don’t tell me you pulled another all-nighter?” Nick asked him as he bent over and picked him up. He was immediately greeted with slobbery kisses and sticky fingers pulling at his ears, but Nick didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it. Just by hearing his son’s laugh and holding him in his arms, Nick’s mood had already improved. “He slept through the night, actually,” you answered from your spot in the kitchen, “Which is why he’s the first one up. Zara had a nightmare, so she’s sleeping in our bed, and I let Gil have a few extra hours on the tablet last night, so he’s knocked out.” Nick nodded, kissing your son right on his adorable little dimple. “And so you woke up to help Mama with breakfast, huh? What a gentleman,” he teased. Your baby boy laughed, and Nick laughed back. His son was always happy, always eager for a cuddle and happy to be held, and he just brought so much joy to Nick’s life. You and the kids were everything to Nick; you were why he did what he did. He wanted to make sure the world was as safe as he could make it for his family, and as he looked down at his grinning baby boy and listened to his sweet laugh, he knew his son would grow up to be good. And that was all Nick could ever hope for. 

Johnny Tuturro: “Me ready!” Your son announced, coming into the living room with his overalls on, toddling towards you and Johnny. You laughed, and Johnny crouched down to be at eye level with his son. “I think you forgot something, man,” he said, affectionately poking him in his cheek. “No I not! Me ready! Me ready for beach!” Your son argued, his dark brown eyes shining with mischief just like your husband’s. “You did a good job with your hair,” you said, ignoring the trail of moisturizing oil, combs, and brushes your baby had left in the hallway when he did his hair, “and you look so cute in your overalls.” “Tank you for helping with the buttons,” he said, giving you that Tuturro smile that had you ready to give him everything he ever wanted. “You’re welcome, baby,” you cooed back. “But we can’t go to the beach till you’re all ready, big man,” Johnny added, he pointed to his son’s teeny tiny little feet, “Shoes.” Your son gasped, slapping his little hands on either side of his face in total shock. He screeched, waddling off to grab a pair of shoes from the rack, and you and Johnny laughed. An expert father, Johnny sat on the floor and let your son plop down into his lap, holding his shoes and socks in his fat little hands. “Help me peas,” he said, looking up at his dad. Johnny bent down and kissed the top of his head, taking the socks and putting them on your son’s feet--a pretty impressive feat seeing as how your son was incapable of not swinging his feet. You leaned against the wall, a smile on your face, as you watched them together. Johnny was telling your son that they’d play in the water until the sun went down, and your son clapped his hands excitedly. They were both beach bums, your son having inherited his love of the water from Johnny. “Okay,” Johnny slipped the first tiny shoe on, “let’s practice our colors. What color is this?” He pointed to the shoes. “Black!” “Good job! How about Mommy’s shoes. What color are those?” “Mommy’s shoes white!” “Yeah, white! What color is the ocean?” “The ocean blue!” He answered, and Johnny rewarded him by picking him up and spinning him around, “That’s right, big man! You’re so smart! Just like your Mommy!” Holding your baby boy with one hand and taking your hand in the other, Johnny grinned, “Okay, let’s go!” You walked into the sunshine with your own two lovable sources of sunshine, all three of you smiling and excited for another perfect day. 

Rio: For you, bathtime was war. Your son was a tiny tyrant, displeased with every part of the procedure. He screamed because the water was too cold, and then when you added hot water to it, he whined at the added heat. He tossed the bath toys you provided him, crying because they weren’t the ones he wanted that night. He splashed at the water angrily, tried of being in the tub, and then when you took him out, he kicked his fat little feet and yelled cause he wanted to play in the water. To be clear, he was a sweet baby most of the time, but bathtime turned him into a little monster. Unless Daddy was bathing him. You stood by the sink, arms crossed, pretending to be offended as you watched Rio bathe your son. Rio was on his knees next to the tub, one hand on your son’s back, steadying him in his little baby tub, the other pushing along a toy boat--that your son had chucked at you in annoyance not five minutes before--and making your son laugh. “Okay, time to rinse off,” Rio said, taking a cup and pouring it over your son, who just giggled at the action, “Yeah, now we’re alllll clean,” Rio sang. You bit back a smile as you watched your husband pick your son up. Your son reached for the tattoo on Rio’s neck and tickled it, making all three of you laugh. Rio sat him down on a towel on the sink, and you leaned in, pressing your nose into the fatness of his neck, sniffing that sweet, clean baby smell on his soft, smooth skin. “God, this is like crack,” you sighed. Rio chuckled as you stepped back, and he covered your son’s head with a fluffy brown towel. “I don’t know why you be telling lies on my son,” he joked, “he was an angel this whole time.” “You’ve seen how he gets when I bathe him! He only likes when you do it, it’s crazy!” You huffed. Rio leaned over and kissed your son’s chubby cheeks a good hundred times, coaxing another round of laughs out of the baby. “That’s cause bathtime is boy’s time,” he said, his voice muffled by your son’s cheeks, “Ain’t that right, son?” Rio stood up and turned to you, kissing your cheek as well. “And bedtime is Mommy time,” he whispered, his voice low, “matter of fact... let’s get this boy in his crib so I can wipe Mommy down and rinse her off...” You laughed at the innuendo...and then hurried to grab your son’s pajamas--bedtime couldn’t come quick enough. 

Bonus Boy 

EZ Reyes: Felipe and Angel both agreed that your son was exactly like EZ was when he was a kid: friendly, inquisitive, adventurous. EZ joked that he was always just a little nerd, but when you watched him with your son, you could see that inquisitive spirit in EZ bursting through. “What do you think,” EZ asked, crouching down next to your son as he patted the bark on a tree at the park, “is this a good tree?” “Good tree!” Your son repeated, looking over at his Dad. EZ smiled, and you could see every woman within a 10 mile radius collectively swoon at the sight of him (the smile, the arms, the EVERYTHING) next to your incredibly adorable baby boy. Hell, even you weren’t immune; you indulged in a quick little swoon yourself. “Papi, tree big!” Your son reported, stepping back and looking up at the tree, his little head reared back. EZ held your son steady with a hand on his little back; EZ’s hand was just about the width of your son’s back. “Yeah, it is,” EZ agreed, nodding, “You know, the older a tree is, the bigger is is. So this is probably a very old tree.” Your son’s jaw dropped, nodding in awe, “Wowwwwwww.” You sat on the bench and watched as your boys walked around the park, examining the various trees and plants. Your son would point to something and look up at EZ, who would start spewing off any and every fact he knew about the object, impressing the hell out of your baby boy. You loved watching them like this; you loved your son’s curious nature, and you were so happy and proud that EZ not only supported it, but helped nurture it as well. As you watched them walk around the park in their own little world, hand in hand, you felt a strong sense of love come over you. This was your family. They were yours, and you were theirs, and you loved them both so much, and they loved you. You put your hand over your stomach, a small smile pulling at your lips as you thought of your little secret. They loved you...and they would love this next little one just as much. 

*******************************************************************************************Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip here, I would greatly appreciate it!

Which one was your favorite? Did you think the kids looked enough like their Daddies? Did you have a favorite part? I wanna knooooow!

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[solohux]

prompt following up on the recent one you did with the two force sensitive kiddos if that’s okay: one of the kids is sick/hurt and the boys go into Protective Dad Mode. thank you!!

a follow-up to this prompt!

They should have seen this attack coming. With the Resistance having so little left to lose, their strikes upon First Order bases have become more aggressive, caring less about the collateral damage of officers and more about annihilating everything in their wake.

This base is meant to have been covert, a complete secret. It’s the smallest of its kind, holding less than 200 officers and troopers in its domelike shape in the middle of the ice planet Oluma, doing no harm but conducting research into the rare form of powerful kyber crystals found in the planet’s core, as commanded by the Supreme Leader himself.

And yet, the rebels strike as though this is Starkiller’s sibling, firing upon it with reckless abandon with no care for the lives within its walls.

Across the base, the evacuation claxon blares and officers race to the transports, some climbing into TIEs to face the threat in the sky but luck is not on their side; the people on this base are not fighters but researchers. Their only hope is to evacuate but as they’re running for the hangar bay, officers see that their two leaders are running in the opposite direction.

Their children are still here.

“Ren,” Hux gasps and pants, falling into Kylo’s arms when the Force pulls him away from a collapsing beam. “Ren, what if they’re—?”

“They’re not,” Kylo says, lifting the beam and tossing it to the side, out of their way. “I can feel them.”

Hux swallows hard, relaxing a little since he knows to trust Kylo’s connection to the twins; it’s what brought the pair to them in the first place almost three years ago. Things were rocky at first, with things being so different to what the children were used to but it was like they’d known Kylo all their lives, gelling with him instantly and trusting him with everything. Hux had been jealous for a while, wanting to share in the attention since he is their adoptive father too, but soon enough, the twins were calling him ‘father’ and calling Kylo ‘dad’. The first time that the names were used brought tears to their eyes. Hux can’t bear thinking about what would happen if he never saw his twins again.

The terrified parents race down the corridor to the children’s chambers, flames engulfing more and more of the base. Rumbles come from above them, shrieking sounds of passing X-Wings and subsequent enemy fire but Hux couldn’t care less about the base. They’ll build a new one; nothing will replace his children.

“El,” Kylo stops dead in his tracks, staring with wide eyes at the ground.

“Eloise,” Hux parrots. “No. What is it?”

“She’s hurt.”

“No.”

The two of them run, stepping through fire and jumping over fallen debris until they’re at the door to where Eloise and Emrys were resting when the Resistance attacked. Hux takes his blaster out of its holster and aims it at the busted control panel though he doesn’t have time to shoot before the door is being ripped from the frame thanks to Kylo’s tremendous powers; he tosses it aside as though it weighs nothing.

“D-Dad! Father! Help!”

Emrys’s cry sends shivers down Hux’s spine. The nine year old is sobbing, his violet eyes alight with horror, hiding in the corner with Eloise’s body in his arms, holding her close whilst debris floats around them but there’s still massive fallen beams between the two pairs, separating them from each other.

“El is hurt!” Emrys shouts. “S-something hit her! She won’t wake up!”

Looking over the debris, Hux can see that there’s a sizeable wound on the girl’s head and Emrys is coughing from the suffocating smoke. They need to get them out and quickly.

“Everything will be fine, Em,” Kylo shouts, standing his ground and readying himself. “Just a little longer. I’m gonna lift all this up and then Father is gonna get you out. Okay?”

“O-okay, Dad. H-hurry.”

Kylo looks over his shoulder at Hux and nods, “On 3, okay?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the barricade is high enough for Hux to slip underneath, he moves like lightning and skids to his knees beside the twins, relieved when he sees that Eloise is breathing.

“My brave boy,” Hux reaches out to cup Emrys’s cheek in his palm. “Are you alright?”

The boy nods, “Eloise—”

Hux shifts the girl into his arms, pulling a handkerchief from his top pocket and pressing it to the wound on her head.

“She’s going to be fine, darling. I promise. Are you alright to walk? Ah. Good lad. Dad is waiting on the other side. Hurry now.”

Doing as he’s told, Emrys crawls back underneath the floating debris and takes his place beside Kylo, copying his stance with his arms outstretched as he keeps the rubble afloat with his own powers; Hux sees Kylo smile for a brief moment before returning all of his focus to the task at hand.

Manoeuvring himself and his unconscious daughter though the mess is difficult but Hux manages, kneeling on the floor in relief once he’s through to the other side.

“Sweetheart?” Kylo touches the girl’s cheek, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Hux knows that he’s reaching through the Force to find her, and when he smiles, Hux knows that he’s found her.

“Mm? Em? Emrys?” Eloise’s violet eyes flutter open, her body tensing. She’s clearly a little concussed, her eyes focussing and unfocussing as she looks around. “Dad? F-Father? They’re in trouble--!”

“Your brother is fine, darling,” Hux says, holding onto her hand as Kylo takes her into his arms—he’s much stronger than his partner and can easily carry the nine year old to their escape craft—and the family share a brief hug. “Everyone is fine, El. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Emrys is like glue to Hux’s side as they leave, holding tightly onto his hand just like he did the first day that they met. Both of the children have come so far in three years; they’ve become so much more confident in themselves and their powers, more trusting of their adoptive parents.

Their shuttle isn’t located in the main hangar but in a secret one on the other side of the base, one that remains unaffected by the Resistance’s attack. As they fly away and jump to hyperspace to return to the Finalizer, Hux doesn’t look back at his destroyed base but keeps looking forward at his children, sitting next to Eloise’s bed whilst Kylo tends to her wounds. As usual, Emrys is next to Hux and in his arms, sleeping with his head on his chest.

“She’ll be fine, won’t she?” Hux asks, rubbing his hand up and down his son’s back.

“She will,” Kylo says, tucking a piece of El’s hair behind her ear to keep it away from the healing wound on her head. “She’s strong, just like he is.”

“Just like you.”

Kylo smiles, “I was just going to say the same thing.”

#kylux #kylux babies #no mpreg #eloise and emrys au

[bokutosworld]

in the stars | m. atsumu

character/pairing: single parent/dad atsumu with son

wc: 1.5k words, angst, longing for loved one. warning/s: slight mention of death.

summary: in which atsumu helps his only son find comfort in the stars where he believes your soul lives on.

--

in the dead of the night, atsumu awoke with tears streaming down his face. confused and startled, he shakily brings a hand to wipe his cheeks. just when he was finally getting peace on his evenings, the nightmares that plagued his days and disturbed his slumbers has returned to haunt him.

he scrambles to get the blanket off of his body, standing up and slipping on his fuzzy slippers. he remains seated on the side of the bed, a hand clutches his chest as he feels his heart being twisted and burning with pain - a sensation which he hasn't felt in a long time.

the clock on his bedside table reads 1:15 am and he tries to catch his breath. when he woke up, he felt as if he has been running a marathon, sprinting to get to the finish line. but in his case, wouldn't it more accurate to say that he has been running away from agony? he reaches for the glass of water that he usually places in his table, only to find it empty.

after what seemed like an eternity sitting in darkness, he gets up and walks toward the door. he turns the knob carefully, as if he would wake someone up if he makes even the slightest of noise. the first step he takes in the hallway is silent. with cautious footsteps, he stalks quietly towards the kitchen to refill his drink.

atsumu places the glass on the counter and picks up a pitcher of water from the refrigerator. he figures a cold drink would be enough to wake his senses up and pull him from his perturbed state. a drink became two until he felt relieved once again. he washes the glass on the sink and places it carefully on the racks to dry.

he retreats back to his room to try to return to sleep. however, he stops his tracks in the carpeted floor of the living room, catching sight of a silhouette at the balcony. the sliding door has been opened, the curtains were being swept away by the winter winds, and the faint moonlight reveals the only family he has left.

'takeru, what are you doing here,' the said boy jumps in surprise at the voice of his father. he shyly looks up at him then brings his gaze back at the skies. atsumu takes note of the way his son shivers at the harsh cold and takes off his sweater to cover him. 'have you been awake for long?'

the boy nods, tugging the sweater closer to his body for warmth. 'i dreamt of mama,' takeru confesses. suddenly, atsumu feels chills go up his body, rendering him frozen in his place as he listens to his five year-old son. 'we were in our vacation house with uncle osamu's family and mama was happy. papa was in my dream too, then,' takeru stops midway his story. he turns to atsumu, stretching his arms to reach his waist.

atsumu goes down on his knees, bringing takeru to a hug and comforting him in the best way he can. 'shh, takeru, it's okay, i'm here. you don't have to tell me your dream if you can't,' he feels the child shaking his head. his tiny fists grips his father's shirt, and atsumu feels his clothing turn wet with tears. 'no, no, buddy, don't cry.'

but his voice betrays him, almost choking on his own tears that are threatening to spill from his eyes. his mind wanders to what his wife would do in these moments. you were always the perceptive one, you knew how to brighten up the mood in the room, you understood emotions better than anyone. it always left atsumu speechless whenever you would work your magic and comfort people's dampened spirits.

it was one of the things he loved about you. atsumu believes that his marriage with you was the best thing to happen in his life. you were the greatest gift given by the gods above, every day spent with you felt like he was in heaven - as if he had his own paradise and you were his angel.

and when you got pregnant with takeru, atsumu was lifted up in cloud nine. the birth of his son was a momentous event, but truth be told, he was scared. he thought he could not perform his duties as a father, given his busy schedules and jet-setter lifestyle due to volleyball. but you assured him that you would never leave his side. it was you who gave him the confidence that he would be the best dad to takeru, and he believed that with all his heart.

he never imagined the day would come when you would no longer be by his side. the first time he heard of the tragic news, he felt the world around him lose its brightness, the colors disappeared and everything he saw was grey. to say he was heartbroken was an understatement, you were his light, and without you, he felt his life held no more meaning and purpose. he closed himself off from his friends and family, even his own son - leaving the boy to osamu's care.

for weeks, he seemed as though his soul has been sucked from him, leaving him to be a lifeless, empty vessel. but one day, he was brought to life by the tender touch and the soft whimpers of takeru. the child has crawled his way to atsumu's lap and in that moment, he broke down.

looking at takeru brought him pain and comfort. the little boy resembled his mama so much that it only hurt atsumu as it reminded him of the person he had lost. but he also came to the realization that takeru was the only person you have left behind. the little boy had no else but him to rely on, and since that day, atsumu swore to pick himself up. remembering your words, he swore to live for his son's sake, and even though he was sure he could not fill the gap your absence have left, he promised that he would become the best parent for takeru.

'i miss her too,' he hears the boy's sniffles subside. 'mama also visited me in my dreams tonight. she was telling me that you have become a big boy now,' atsumu smiles as he says these words, not knowing where they were coming from. the child lifts his head and looks at his papa, 'did you tell her that i miss her?'

atsumu's heart breaks at the thought that takeru was waking up each day, searching for you and yearning for your presence. he brings the boy to his arms, carrying him with ease as they stand to look at the clouds. he presses a kiss to takeru's temple, 'mama knows you miss her, every day. she also wants me to tell you that she is always looking over you from afar.'

the boy is puzzled, his eyebrows furrowing and atsumu remembers the way you would also do the same action whenever you confused. takeru was truly a mama's boy, he thought. 'what do you mean, papa?'

he grins and extends an arm to the skies, 'raise your head, takeru. the stars look lovely tonight, don't they?' the child excitedly nods, and atsumu remembers the moments he would go stargazing with his wife.

'hey, tsum-tsum. did you know that when a star dies, it releases all of its light and sends it out in the darkness,' you circle your arms exaggeratedly to make your point. 'and there it shines for a very long time.' you peek at atsumu who was lying down the grass by your side. he laughs at your antics, pulling you down to his chest. you can hear the erratic beating of his heart.

'you do love your astronomy, don't you?' atsumu says, amazed at your wide knowledge of the universe, the moon, and everything beyond. you chuckle, 'of course! it's always phenomenal to know that there's something greater than us and somehow, it puts me at ease, knowing that we're all under the same vast sky, staring at the same celestial bodies. it makes me feel connected with you even when we're apart.'

it was under those stars and skies that atsumu proposed to you. it was under those stars and skies that your smile shone the brightest and atsumu likened it to the twinkling of the stars on that special night. 'i'm so lucky to have the brightest star by my side,' atsumu declared before sealing your engagement with a kiss under the moonlight.

'look for the star that's shining the brightest tonight,' atsumu guides his son to locate your star. a few minutes and takeru finally spots it, 'over there, papa! it's round and white and sparkling.' he laughs at his son's vivid description.

'that's mama's star, takeru. she's watching over us from above and no matter where you look at, you can find her dazzling in the skies, as if calling out to you and telling you that she will never leave your side,' atsumu comforts his son who visibly relaxes and smiles at the thought. 'so whenever you miss mama, just look up and her star will be there.'

atsumu knows this because, for as long as he can remember, the skies has been the source of his solace and whenever he looks up, he feels your love radiating from the stars.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #atsumu x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu angst #atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fics #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu texts #haikyuu headcanons #so... this is a repost cos tumblr is being :D

[snarkysinner]

| How could you leave us. |

| How could you leave us. | 




Though I almost died in my dream again. Fighting for my life, I couldn't breathe again. I remember it like it was yesterday. My parents had a party in the family yacht. I lifted my head; swimming and trying to get my foot off the mesh but I couldn’t do it. I started drowning, so I shouted for help. 



I Looked around but nobody seemed to hear me. “Help!” I’m disoriented trying to fight with the water, but it’s almost impossible; I was not strong enough, Raff starts screaming. 

“Mom, Dad…Dante is drowning!" Without anyone noticing, Damien impulsively jumped off the yacht and swam towards me, dived into the water untied me from the mesh that protects the sea coast, him being younger something happened and he never got out of the water.



That was the day my whole world shattered and I lost my way, because my father let go of my hand and accused me. I feel so guilty for my brother's death, Damien was just a child beginning to live.

 After that, my parent’s marriage fell apart, my mother fell into a deep depression; she practically does not get out of bed, and when they separated my dad decided to take me to live with him. My mother was sunk in her depression and my dad thought it was the best thing for me.

It was there that I became a troubled teenager, my fears, my insecurities led me to do bad things like go out to parties until the next day totally drunk. By that time my nightmares had already started, they actually started when my brother died. 

I was born into a billionaire family. I grew up surrounded by luxuries and comforts, but I live overwhelmed by a tragic death that occurred when I was ten years old.



When I fell asleep, I began to dream of Damien’s death. I relived it over and over again, they didn't stop so I avoided falling asleep. With my father's last name I could do anything, like enter any place; whatever. I dropped my study and I started playing first with my friends, I got money from anywhere to continue betting. 

it gave me some relief, I didn't think about Damien, I didn't think about anything.

I lost and I didn't care what I wanted was to continue partying. Keep drinking, keep avoiding, if I sleep everything comes back.

The water, the screams, the game was the escape from those demons and I got so involved in the game that I entered the major leagues, and so my debts were greater and my father sent me into academy and there my life was more miserable yet, the nightmares got worse and worse.

Nightmares that accompany me until now. 

Deep down, my father always blamed me for the death of his other son and he always made me feel guilty from a very young age. I lived every night like it was my last; parties, pussy, alcohol, drugs, above all, underground casinos. I was on cloud nine.





The last time I had spoken with him, the atmosphere was cold as ice. We could never have a normal conversation between father and son. “I've tried to live up to your expectations since I was a child but for you it was never enough! deep down you would have wanted me to be the one to drown that day.”

 “What are you complaining about?”

“You've always had everything on a silver tray. Money, Power, Status, you've had it all, Dante.”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes, I've had everything, but you.” 



“Why do they call you, Ace? I’m highly aware of your gambling addictions again, Dante!” It looked like he was thinking about all the wrong things. “Did you kill a man by playing cards?” He raised a brow. 



Eyes peaked in smoldering amusement. “Why does it have to be about killing? Maybe I’m just damn good at cards.” 

“If you were good you wouldn’t be losing lots of money… /My/ money, Dante!”

Sharply spitting through gritted teeth, he fist smashed over the mahogany table. 

“Also is my money since I am your only son.” Clicking my tongue. “And whose fault is that?” He tilted his head to the side. 

Clenched my jaw with his accusations.

“The first man that I hurt had an ace under his sleeve at the game so I sliced him with the same ace of spades down his throat.” watching the glitch in his throat as he swallowed with my confession. I took a step back and walked away from him. “The name’s been with me ever since.” 



Woke up in the middle of the night with the same nightmare. I leisurely padded out from my bed before dressed all in black with a leather jacket, grabbed my helmet and gloves, I mounted my motorcycle, started the engine and kicked off the side stand to drive away towards the underground casino. 

I have been going to the casino since I was about 15 years old, I suffer from insomnia and have become a frequent player.



I bet very often and I even borrow to continue playing. In that place there are no friends, only people who take their money badly.

It's a place that asks for more and more and then you can't leave. it’s like alcohol; the drug and it happens with the game. Everyone decides what vice to be a slave to, which one are you. 

I stood at the craps table with a glass case of chips.

I ran my fingers through my dampened hair. A lit cigarette dangled from my lips as my gaze embraced all that was around me, a glass of whiskey on the rocks in hand. 

I rolled the dice on the table. It looks like tonight is going to be a good night.

My lips lifted in a loose triumphant smirk. I have very good luck. Life is not about having good cards, but about playing with the ones you have. Have fun, It’s just a game.




(To be continued)








[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo 

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language 

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon. 

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe. 

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together. 

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red. 

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. 

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in. 

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote. 

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on. 

 “I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.” 

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words. 

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it. 

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands. 

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips. 

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing. 

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff. 

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!” 

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder. 

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building. 

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears. 

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you. 

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina. 

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed. 

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.” 

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you. 

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.” 

“I told her I was on my way here.” 

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine. 

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend. 

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.” 

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.” 

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?” 

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?” 

No, he couldn’t. 

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.” 

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” 

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you. 

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be. 

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop. 

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display. 

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché. 

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together. 

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren. 

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him. 

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.” 

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“ 

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. 

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs. 

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!” 

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground. 

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“ 

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way. 

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.” 

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again. 

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears. 

“Okay. One more chance.” 

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis. 

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction. 

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“ 

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice. 

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.” 

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes. 

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.” 

“Sure thing.” 

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek. 

“Get home safe, Kook.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

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#bts #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk smut #bts smau #bts sm au #bts fake social media #bts fake texts #jungkook angst #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook imagine #jeongguk

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Adoption Day

Summary: In the days leading up to the reader’s adoption, she starts acting out over fears of her new family not truly loving her. In the meantime, her family does their best to ease those worries and instead celebrate the reader officially joining the family...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 8,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: The reader is 17 years old during this part. This part takes place in the week leading up to the reader’s adoption. Enjoy! 

________

“What about this one?” asked Danneel from a few feet away. You rolled your eyes and you heard her huff. “I saw that young lady.”

“No you didn’t.”

“There’s a mirror,” she said, putting the dress back.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. You wandered around and took a seat on the bench, watching her walk around the store more, off in search of the perfect dress. You stared at the floor and licked your thumb, wiping a smudge off your sneakers when a pair of brown boots stepped into view.

“How’s dress shopping going?” asked Jensen. You looked up and he had two plain dress shirts, one black and one gray, tucked in his arm along with a brown and orange flannel. You shrugged and he sat down beside you. “Y/N. You’ve been grumpy all day.”

“I don’t want to wear a dress and I certainly don’t want to spend an obnoxious amount of money on it,” you said.

“Y/N. This is going to be a once in a lifetime day. It’s okay to splurge,” he said. 

“You people have no idea how little people in the real world have. You spend hundreds on a dress I wear once and that costs more than people get for food for a month.”

“Do we flaunt what we have? Do we give you kids everything you ask for? Do the little guys get every toy they want when we go to the store? No. You want to sit down and take a look at our monthly budget? I can show you how much we could do those things but we don’t,” he said.

“What about this?” asked Danneel, walking over with a pretty light blue dress. You narrowed your eyes and you saw her frown.

“Go wait in the car. We’re going home,” he said to you. 

“Jackass,” you mumbled as you stood up.

“You want to go for your first grounding? Keep it up,” he said.

“Why is it my fault that I don’t want a stupid dress?” you said. You stormed outside and waited by the car, leaning against the hot black vehicle for about five minutes before they came out with a pair of bags each. You climbed in your usual spot in the back, crossing your arms and staring out the window.

“Phone,” he said before he started the car. “Y/N, phone. Now.”

“Why?”

“You were rude to De. You can have it back tomorrow.”

You stared at him. You’d been rude before. Hell, you’d done a lot worse. You were nearly eighteen. You’d seen them both be rude. It wasn’t like they were perfect and you’d already told them at breakfast you didn’t want to go dress shopping that day.

“Y/N,” he said, clenching his jaw. You held out your phone and he snatched it, shoving it in his jacket pocket. “No TV or internet either and you owe De an apology.”

“Sorry,” you said quietly.

“That’s not an apology,” he said. 

“I’m sorry for being in a bad mood when I had to do something I told you in the first place I didn’t-”

“Be quiet,” he said. You snapped your jaw shut and turned to look out the window again. He drove home in silence and the second you were parked in the driveway, you got out and headed for the back patio. You sat up on the railing and tucked your feet up, pulling your hood up when a gust of cool wind hit you.

Ten minutes later you heard footsteps on the decking and sighed.

“It’s lunchtime,” he said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“What is with the attitude today?”

“You’re mad at me because I’m not hungry?” you asked, turning your head with a glare. You saw his chest heave but he kept his face blank.

“Make yourself something to eat when you are then,” he said before he left you alone.

“Y/N!” you heard shouted, your eyes peeling open. You sat up and the sky was dark. You must have fallen asleep down on the dock. “Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and got to your feet, walking out from the small covered dock and over to the base of the stairs.

“What?” you called up, his head shooting down. He dropped it and shut his eyes, breathing for a moment. “I’m still not hungry.”

“What are you doing down there?”

“Sitting. What’s wrong with that?” you asked.

“Nothing is…” he trailed off. “It is nearly six. You’ve had enough outside time today.”

“So now I can’t go outside either?”

“Did I say that? No. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to the dock, dangling your feet over the edge. Heavy footsteps came down the stone steps and you gritted your teeth.

“Hey,” you heard as the board creaked behind you. “It’s getting cold out and you have on a hoodie and leggings. I don’t care if I drag you up there. You’re going inside.”

“Then drag me,” you said, glaring over your shoulder. 

“What is your problem? I’m not a fan of dress clothes either. Most people aren’t. The second we get home, you can take it off. We’ll leave the tag on the dress and return it. What is the big issue I’m not seeing.”

“Just leave me alone, Jensen.”

“Kid, you haven’t been alone since the second you stepped in that house last year. Sit out here and believe what you want but you’re not.”

“Okay. How about we try leave me the fuck alone?” you said. You stared out at the dark water and sky, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Do you not want us to adopt you anymore?” he asked after a beat. “If you don’t want us, that’s okay but please just tell us instead of this.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you said. “Adopt me.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Or what you think we want?”

You were quiet and he took a seat next to you, resting his hands in his lap. 

“Y/N, have you been trying to push my buttons on purpose today?”

You didn’t move aside from to turn your head to the left away from him.

“Tall munchkin, look at me.”

You forced yourself to look in his direction. There was that understanding look on his face. He was always understanding. You narrowed your eyes and he frowned before you pushed on his back and he fell into the water.

“Y/N!” he shouted when he popped above the surface. You got to your feet and headed for the stairs. “What the fuck was that for!”

“See ya,” you said. You were at the top of the stairs before you saw him climb up the ladder onto the decking. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered hard. The water had to be decently cold and he slowly made his way up the steps. You were inside and grabbed some granola bars from the pantry by the time you heard the back door open.

“What happened to you?” asked De as he stared in your direction.

“I fell,” he said. “Later. I need to wash up.”

You skirted away to your room, De knocking at the door and coming inside quickly.

“You want to tell me what happened?” she asked.

“I pushed him in,” you said, taking an angry bite of the bar. She blinked and blinked some more, shaking her head. “Yes?”

“What is going on with you? You could have hurt him.”

“Hurt him? It was cold water,” you said.

“And it’s dangerous to go swimming in the river this time of year because of the current changes, especially near the docks. The rip tide goes right near the shore line,” she said.

“That’s not true. Why are you lying?”

“Because you were not teasing him and having fun when you did that. You were mean. You’ve been mean all day and I know you care about him and me and all of us. Why you’re pretending not to, I have no idea.”

“Maybe I’m tired with the charade now that I’m nearly adopted. It’s exhausting putting up a show like this all the time,” you said. 

“The only one you’re lying to is yourself. Do not leave this room,” she said. She stormed off and you lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how far you’d go with this.

Around nine you were reading on top of your bed, swallowing when the door opened and Jensen stepped inside alone. He shut the door and you tried to ignore him but he snatched the book out of your hands and put it down on the nightstand. You stared up at him before he took a seat on the edge of the bed and leaned in close. You shrank back into the headboard, Jensen narrowing his eyes.

“I figured out what you’re up to and this is one of the most idiotic things I’ve ever seen you do. You should know by now to talk to me and De about this stuff. But I get that the adoption is a big deal. A huge deal and there’s a lot of emotions tied up with all that. So you can act like a child, you can be rude and mean and try to piss me off all you want. You don’t get it yet. Well, you actually do but you’re testing us because you’re still afraid. That’s okay. This is a big day coming up. I understand. But there is nothing you could ever do to make us not want you. You could infuriate me and I will still love you. Love is always constant. I might not like everything you do and you might not like everything I do but we are always a family. I figured out your game and I don’t want to play it anymore. I don’t like when we’re like this. I don’t want you to think that there’s any possible combination of things you could do to get us to stop loving you. I forgive you and your behavior today. Please stop though and come out and say what’s bothering you.”

He sat back and you saw his hair was still damp, green eyes full of concern. You swallowed and looked down, squeezing your eyes shut. The bed shifted some and then you felt his body heat on your left side, occupying the other side of the bed. You remembered the Brolins and felt your face start to scrunch up. They’d never got so far as adopting you but you remember their son brought it up to them once. You remembered pushing back to see how much they’d actually put up with you. All you got was a shove to the floor and a transfer to one of your worst foster homes for it.

“Let me in that head of yours,” he said softly. “I can’t read your mind on this, kiddo. It’s too different.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, forming a fist and whacking your leg. He caught your arm and stopped you from doing it again. He took the other one too and you tried to turn your body away.

“You were scared. There is a big difference,” he said. “Do you want me to get us an emergency session?”

“No,” you said, his hands releasing you so you could wipe at your eyes. “No. I knew what I was doing. Mostly.”

“What’s the mostly part?” he asked gently. 

“Would you love me if I wasn’t good. I don’t like being bad but...if I was a bitch all the time, would you love me.”

“There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that could ever make us not love you. Even if you acted like that every day, I’d love you. Why would you do something like that though? You know we love you.”

“I know. But the adoption is next week and if you didn’t...if you didn’t love me all the way and just some...I don’t want a family that loves me just some, Jensen.”

“Where am I going wrong?” he asked, fixing your hair back behind your ear. “What can I do to make sure you know it’s always been all the way, just as much as I love your siblings and De.”

“I know that.”

“Then why-”

“Because it’s stuck in my head, Jensen,” you said, his eyes worried and confused, looking for some kind of answer on your face. “Until I get adopted...you can get rid of me. I know you wouldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. But it’s in my head and it’s gonna stay there until the papers are signed. There’s no getting it out. I’ve spent months trying. I’m sorry but I can’t fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” he said. He pulled you into his lap and you turned your head away. “Kiddo.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, turning your head to his chest and burrowing into it. 

“You don’t have to be afraid, honey. If you need the paper, then we’ll get the paper. I’ll make sure you get some copies for you to keep too, okay? Whatever you need to know you’re ours, we’ll give it to you. You just gotta let us know what it is,” he said.

“I’m sorry I pushed you in the water. It was a dick move,” you said, sniffling some and getting his shirt wet.

“I told you before. I’ll take whatever you throw my way. I know this is more than just a day for you coming up. It’s a big life moment and those are scary. Normally it means change and change is scary. The only thing that changes to me is that hopefully we can get rid of that last bit of fear inside. We’ve gotten out a lot the past year. We did really good and it’s okay that there’s some left. But I really hope next Friday it’ll be gone,” he said.

“It will,” you said. He wrapped one arm around you and rubbed your back with the other as a few hiccups escaped you. “Sorry.”

“You apologized enough. It’s done with,” he said. “I just want you to be happy and safe. It’s all I want, sweetie.”

“I wish my head was normal,” you said, hiccuping again as your eyes stung with new tears.

“I love this head,” he said, kissing the top of it. “Your concerns are justified, Y/N. You’ve been hurt and betrayed before. I’ve dealt with pain and problems and life but you’ve gone through more than I have, more than everyone in this house put together. You went through all that by yourself too. Your head is only trying to protect you from more pain and that’s how everyone’s heads work, honey. It’s as normal as everyone else.”

“You never cried around your dad like I do when you were my age. You were normal. You broke rules and curfew, you didn’t worry about getting straight A’s. You were the cool popular nice guy at school and you had girlfriends and you didn’t cry with your dad on a Friday night when you should be out being a normal teenager cause you weren’t a freak.”

“I had a support system. From the time I was born, I never questioned if I was loved and taken care of. I skirted the line a bit but I knew right from wrong. I was a dumb average teenager. I was average and very well could have peaked in high school. I got phenomenally lucky. My parents weren’t happy when I told them I wanted to put off my first semester of college. My dad was livid until we came up with our deal that if I flopped, I’d come home and get a degree. I had support. I could fail and it wouldn’t be more than a bump in the road. I would be living some extraordinarily average life right now if that happened. You’re not average. You were your own parent. You get upset because the idea of failing is so ingrained in you that it’ll be devastating and there is no support system. It’s okay and it’s gonna take us years to get there but we’ll get there. The popular guy is normally peaking now and he’s gonna be the exact opposite of what you want in life. You? The smart cookies, the hard workers, the mature ones, you’re the ones that own businesses, do great things, have exciting and wonderful lives. I got lucky. You don’t need luck. You’re gonna be amazing all on your own.”

“I’m gonna be an architect and help with the brewery. How’s that amazing?” you said.

“Let’s lower that bar a little before you turn into Uncle Jared on me,” he said, kissing the top of your head again. “Think about it. You’re gonna be great at whatever you decide to do. You’ve been through worse. And when I was your age, just so you know, I did cry in front of my dad. I bawled in front of him. I was babysitting your aunt so she was about ten. I, being the dumb average teenager I was, ditched her, left her all home alone while our parents were out of town. Your uncle was in college at the time so it was just us two there. Well, while I went out with my friends, someone broke into our house and your aunt was there all by herself.”

“Did anything bad happen?”

“No, thankfully. They left as soon as they realized someone was home. She called the police and I came home around midnight to our parents there along with a few cops. I thought they were going to murder me right there. My dad said some pretty serious stuff to me. I was grounded for a month needless to say. My sister tried to make me feel better the next day but I didn’t want to, not after what he said. That night my mom took my sister out to the movies for something fun to do. I sat in my room, staring at the door with the lights off. It was winter so it was already dark out and I just couldn’t help but think how scared she’d been. I was supposed to protect her and I let her down. I let my family down. I lost it. I bawled, the hardest I’d ever cried in my entire life and of course that’s when the door opens. I was scared to look up so I put my back to the door and tried to calm down but you know as well as I do it’s easier said than done.”

“What’d grandpa say?”

“He didn’t say anything at first. He walked around the bed and sat down next to me and after a few minutes he told me I made a mistake. He hadn’t seen me cry since I was a kid so I was trying to look not so much like a mess and that wasn’t working and I was expecting him to do some kind of punishment like he would when I was a kid and he just kept looking at me and I had no idea what was going through his head. He asked me if I would make that mistake ever again and I told him no and started making all these promises and he shushed me and told me if I was never going to make that mistake again, there was no need for me to stay upset. He forgave me and I didn’t understand why. I couldn’t contemplate it. I wanted him to hate me as much as I wanted forgiveness. But he told me he’s not capable of hating me so I should take the forgiveness. So we talked a bit and I calmed down and he ungrounded me. He said I was punishing myself worse than he would have ever given me and it was up to me to decide when I was going to be done. So the next few weeks I stuck around home and eventually that friend I’d snuck over to was having a party, the same night my parents were going out. He was over after school that day and made a comment to me about leaving my sister home alone again and I lost it on him. He knew what had happened before. That fight ended our friendship. He was my best friend for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. My dad overheard that fight. He was proud of me and I was proud of me. I stopped feeling guilty that day. So yes, I did cry in front of my dad at your age. I’ve cried since then too. You’re normal but you’re not average. People get those mixed up sometimes.”

You nodded and heard someone at the door, a quick glance telling you it was Danneel.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just…” you said, biting your bottom lip.

“If Y/N is a little agitated the next few days, we’re gonna let it slide. She’s a bit nervous right now,” said Jensen. You saw her face fall and you smiled to yourself. “She wants us. Kiddo’s just a little scared we’ll give her back until we get the papers.”

“Never,” she said, taking a seat on the bed. “Anything we can do to make you feel better?”

“Not really,” you said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, I know-”

“Alright,” he said. He rolled off bed and threw you over his shoulder as you yelped.

“Jensen!” you said, clinging to his back as best you could.

“You gotta stop apologizing and I know the next week is gonna be long but we are officially going to start the smother session with some homemade nachos and cookie dough ice cream while we watch trashy reality TV,” he said.

“Jensen. She needs a proper dinner,” said De as he carried you down the hall to the kitchen. He set you down on the counter and frowned at him as he went to the fridge. “Jay.”

He turned back at you and you sighed again.

“Okay. How about homemade mac and cheese instead and then you can go relax in our jetted tub with a bath bomb,” he said.

“Tub?” you asked as he went to the cupboard instead and pulled out your favorite kind of pasta.

“It’s relaxing. Even Jensen likes baths when he’s stressed. Besides, you only have a shower in your bathroom and if you don’t want us to smother that’s fine but you should self-smother...self-care...you know what I mean,” said De.

“Can I skip the tub and just have the macaroni?” you asked.

“Yes. Go do something fun while it cooks. It’s gonna be a minute,” said Jensen as he got out a pot.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed-”

“Punishment is over. We wouldn’t have needed one in the first place if you talked so hopefully the rest of the week goes better than tonight, agreed?”

“Yeah,” you said, heading back for your room. “Can you put-”

“I’ll put the crackers on top and put it in the oven when I’m done. I know that’s your favorite,” he said.

“Thanks, Jensen.”

“That’s like, nice,” said Jensen the next afternoon. You raised an eyebrow and walked past the rack, Jensen letting out a sigh. “You don’t wear dresses. This is weird for me too. Mom would be better at this.”

“Where is she again?” you asked, walking past a rack of yellow dresses.

“Some charity thing for the daycare with the kids. She’s supposed to be meeting us with the three musketeers for dinner,” he said.

“So I got stuck with you.”

“Y/N.”

“The dress you suggested would be great for me if I were taller and going to Cinderella's ball, not a courtroom.”

“Well excuse me, fashionista,” he said. “Looked like it’d fit to me.”

“Jensen,” you said. “Just...find something not too expensive.”

“Good thing we went to a boutique store then,” he mumbled under his breath. You wandered out of the petite section and over to the women’s, finding some dresses along the back wall. “Try that one on.”

“What one?” you asked. He pointed at a red one and you bit back a groan. “Why do you keep picking bright obnoxious colors?”

“I don’t know. De does,” he said with a shrug. “She wears a lot of different things, you know that. I learned long ago to just let the woman be right in these situations.”

“That was very intelligent of you to pick up on,” you said. You caught his face in the mirror and grabbed the dress. “I’ll try it on but I don’t want it.”

“Alright. I’ll keep looking,” he said. You went back to the dressing rooms and found an empty stall. You smoothed out the material after pulling it over your head and frowned. You looked so old. You were already trying to remove it when you heard a bubbly voice outside. “Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Ah, come on. Your girls trips are no fun.”

“This isn’t a girls trip.”

“We got lunch and then went shopping. We’re on a girls trip. Come on. I’m impartial,” he said.

“Over my dead body you’re impartial,” you muttered. You fixed the dress and stepped outside, flopping your hands out. “Well?”

“You look beautiful,” he said. “So grown up all of a sudden.”

“I ain’t getting it,” you said. 

“Okay,” he said. He stared and you looked around. 

“Jensen?” you asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked and gave you a smile.

“S’not often that I wish you were younger. I don’t care how old you are, honestly. I just wish I could have seen the little girl side of you sometimes,” he said. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve felt more like a kid now than when I was at like, ten, so you’re probably doing something right.”

“Did you want to try the blue one on?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile. You slipped back into the dressing room and got out of the dress, holding it over the top of the door when he came back. He took the red one and you saw something a deep navy color pop over into the stall. “I thought you were getting the blue one?”

“That is the blue one,” he said.

“It’s nearly black,” you said. You grabbed it and started to change, the fit a little more casual and looser. You cocked your head at yourself in the mirror when suddenly a scarf was landing on top of your head. “Jensen!”

“I was wrong. You are fun to shop with,” he giggled to himself. “Incoming.”

You held your arms out that time and caught a black sleek cropped jacket. 

“Jensen, it’s not for a date,” you said.

“Entertain me. I’m paying for it,” he said. You groaned and fixed the infinity scarf over your head, fixing your hair before you put your arms through the jacket sleeves and hiked it up. 

“Oh,” you said, turning to the side. A box slid under the door and you knelt down, finding a pair of short booties with not too much of a heel. You wanted the shoes regardless of how it all looked but when you kicked the box out of the way and looked in the mirror, you understood what he was doing. You stepped outside as he chuckled to himself against the wall, his mouth snapping shut when he saw you. “How’s it look?”

“You look beautiful.”

“You said that last time.”

“You seem more comfortable in that.”

“This isn’t an outfit for a courtroom,” you said.

“No. But you like it. If we can’t find the dress today, at least we got you a nice outfit for going out or a school dance or whatever,” he said. “I know what you like. I’ve learned a thing or two over the years.”

“You would wear a black t shirt or black henley every day if you could,” you said.

“This is true. Let’s get that stuff as part of your adoption present and then we can try another store,” he said. “I got just the one in mind.”

“Alright,” you said. “I want to get coffee on the way though.”

“Duh,” he said with a smile. “I bet this next place will be just the one.”

“Jensen,” you said the second you walked in the store. “This is a suit store. For men.”

“There’s literally a woman right over there,” he said, pointing to someone looking at ties. “Also the women's is in the back.”

You followed him to the back of the store, Jensen stopping at a rack of business dresses.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“More appropriate at least,” you said.

“Stay here one second,” he said. He wandered off and you walked around a bit until he came back with some sales person. “Y/N, this is Mr. Wex. He’s in charge of tailoring here.”

“Tailoring?” you asked.

“Yes. Most items in the store are available for tailoring which we always suggest for the perfect fit. Mr. Ackles said you two were looking for a dress for a big occasion?”

“I’m sorry. Jensen-” you said as the man held up a hand.

“Come with me,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes. “Just like him. I have something in the back that will be perfect.”

“It’s alright,” said Jensen. You crossed your arms and went with the man to the dressing room area. He went through another set of doors and returned with a white long sleeve dress. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to wear white after labor day?” you asked.

“You can pull it off,” he said. “Try it on and then we’ll make adjustments. I have a feeling the sleeves are going to be a tad long.”

You sighed and took the dress, changing quickly and walking back out where there were some mirrors.

“You don’t wear that dress to your adoption and I will,” said Jensen as you turned in front of the mirror.

“The fit is very nice. Just a few minor things aside from the sleeves,” said Mr. Wex. “Do you plan on wearing heels or flats?”

“I like those boots,” you said, Jensen nodding. “Jensen, this dress has got to be like-”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said with a shrug.

“It has pockets,” said Mr. Wex, showing you the one by your left side. 

“Alright, I like it more,” you said. Jensen chuckled and Mr. Wex pulled out a measuring tape. 

“I think we found the one then, kiddo.”

Thursday Night

“I didn’t-” you said, Danneel fuming as she stood on the other side of the counter. “What is wrong with you!”

“You don’t steal things,” she said, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t steal shit!” you said.

“Watch your language!” she said, your brother and sisters starting to get a peaked interest in the conversation from where they played in the living room.

“For the last time, I did not take your credit card!”

“It was in my wallet right when I got home from the store and now it’s missing. I don’t think the toddlers were using it to buy stuff online.”

“I didn’t take it,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“I know you are...there is no justification for stealing though. You-”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” you said under your breath, just in time for a very tired looking Jensen to walk in from the garage.

“Why do you two look like you’re fighting,” he mumbled. “I’m too tired for you two to be fighting.”

“Y/N-”

“De thinks I stole her credit card,” you said, crossing your arms.

“It’s missing and it was in my wallet and it’s not like the other kids would know what to do with it,” she said.

“It wouldn’t happen to be your maroon discover card, would it?” he asked.

“Yes. How do you know that?” she asked.

“No reason,” he said, bending over and picking up some papers the kids had been doing arts and crafts on. He held one up, the card lopsidelly glued to it. She shut her eyes and he ripped it off the paper. “Listen up! Butts in the kitchen!”

The kids ran over, all giggly at the sight of him home for the weekend again, home for a long week actually, and he gave them each hugs and kisses before he was frowning.

“Does anyone know what this is?” he asked, holding up the card.

“Pretty!” said Arrow. You felt yourself simmer down some as Zepp said shiny.

“And who thought to use it in their arts and crafts?” 

“Why’s it not on my paper anymore?” asked Zeppelin. 

“Where’d you get it Zepp?” asked Jensen as he squatted down.

“It was in the paper mommy gave us for college time,” he said.

“Collage,” said Jensen. “You made a collage.”

“Okay,” he said, twisting around.

“Zepp. This isn’t paper. It’s important. If you ever find it, you bring it to mommy or me or Y/N,” he said, giving De a look. She still had her eyes shut and had taken to putting a hand over part of her face. “Okay?”

“Okay. Am I in trouble?” he asked.

“No buddy,” he said.

“Come on,” you said, bending over and picking him up. “I want to go play whatever game you guys are cause it sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen. You were still mad and he sighed, mouthing later to you as you dived onto the couch with your brother in your arms, getting a big round of giggles out of him.

“Again?” he asked.

“Okay, again,” you said, diving back down. All three of them wanted turns after that and eventually even you couldn’t keep up with them anymore. “Who wants story time?”

Thirty minutes later you’d finished up with JJ and pulled her door shut, sighing as you saw Jensen waiting at the end of the hall. He curled a finger at you and you tried to slip past him down the stairs but he caught up quickly and blocked the path to your room.

“Jensen. She thought-”

“No she didn’t.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Last Friday you were pushing us away to see how much we love you. Think about that. Think about the fact that De has been so excited to get that dress with you and do something she enjoys with you and for weeks you’ve been mean every time it comes up.”

“What are you saying?” you asked.

“I’m saying maybe she got a little scared about how you feel about her too. She knows we’re close. You’ve been irritated with her lately and she got a little concerned.”

“She knows better than to-”

“So do you. But we didn’t get on you for doing that, did we?”

“No.”

“Forgive her. She made a mistake,” he said. He moved aside and headed back towards his room, leaving you there with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss my mom and I feel like De got so mad because I’ve been grumpy lately. As soon as you fly up to work, I just...I like having a mom again.”

“You think of De as your mom?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “It wasn’t like how it was with you. I was never afraid of her. Not like that at least. She was always safe. I’m sorry.”

“You’re allowed to get mad over things, honey. I was glad to see you having an all out argument. It’s healthy and normal and it’s what you do after the fight that matters,” he said.

“I know you're all tired and everything but can I talk to her?”

“You don’t need permission,” he said, waving you to follow after. You followed him down to his room, finding De sat on the bed with her head in her hands and a box of tissues beside her. “We have a visitor.”

“Damnit, Jensen,” she said, turning to the side and wiping off her face. “You could have told her to wait.”

“Nah,” he said. “Excuse me ladies. I need to wash up and then bed.”

He ducked into their bathroom and you carefully took a seat at the end of the mattress. She blew her nose and tossed the tissue in the basket by her side, using another to clean her face again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought...I shouldn’t have…”

You crawled over and gave her a hug, feeling how tense she was.

“S’okay,” you said. “I’m not mad anymore.”

“I-”

“Even if I get mad, I always love you,” you said. You felt her ease and she moved her arms around you, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Really?” she asked.

“Duh,” you said. 

“I love you too.”

“I know,” you said.

“I take this as a good sign?” asked Jensen. You turned your head and he was already plopping down on his side of the bed with damp hair.

“Yeah,” you said. He shut his eyes and you climbed off the bed when you heard him snoring already. “Is he really asleep?”

“He’s pretty tired. I don’t think he slept on the plane,” she said. “Too excited for tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you said. “I’ll uh, see you guys in the morning then.”

“We have to be there at one so there’s plenty of time. Sleep good, honey.”

“Yeah. I think I finally will for once.”

“So,” said Jensen as you sat on a bench outside the courthouse bouncing your leg like crazy the next day. You turned and he took a seat beside you, undoing the button on his jacket. “We should probably head up soon. It’s almost your turn in there.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leg still going and going. You looked out at the street, watching the gray clouds roll through. He put a hand on your knee and you stopped, staring as he pulled it back.

“What’re you thinking?”

“You were never giving me back, were you.”

“Nope. You’re ours.”

“I wish I just got that. I wish...I wish I’d known I’d finally get picked,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “Nobody wanted me for so long and you guys...I don’t know how to say thank you.”

“We don’t want you to say thank you. We just want you to be part of our family. Entirely selfish of us, I know, but you have amazing bedhead and we kinda really love you. You want to go make this official?”

“Okay,” you breathed out. You stood up and went inside with him, finding the right courtroom. You slipped in the row with him near De and were quiet as you watched a little boy getting his adoption as well.

“If he can do it you can do it,” he whispered to you. You nodded and about five minutes later the judge finished up with them and was returning to her seat.

“Ackles family,” she said. Jensen nudged you and you stood, walking ahead of them as you went up to the table. You could feel your heart in your chest as they took a place on either side of you.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, grabbing your hand. “S’alright.”

“I know,” you said, swallowing as the judge moved new papers in front of her. She looked at them for a moment before raising her head in your direction.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Y/N,” she said with a smile.

“T-thanks,” you said.

“No need to be nervous,” she said. “So. How old are you?”

“17,” you said.

“Your birthday is in a few weeks it says.”

“Yeah,” you said.

“And you’ve been in the foster care system since you were ten.”

“Yeah.”

“How many homes?”

“14.”

“You like these two?” she asked. You nodded and she smiled. “You really like ‘em?”

“I love them.”

You felt Jensen squeeze your hand and you felt yourself calm down.

“They good to you? Give you a good home?”

“Yes.”

“After 14 homes I would expect you’d know the difference,” she said with a knowing smile. “I don’t see kids your age on days like this that often. You think you got a couple of good ones?”

“They’re alright,” you said.

“Just alright?”

“They’re my parents,” you said. You felt both of them looking but you didn’t move away from looking at the judge. “They gave me my life back. They take care of me. I love them more than they’ll ever be able to comprehend. A year ago I was miserable. If they did all that in less than a year, I know I’m gonna be alright for the rest of my life with them.”

“Mom, dad, how’s that sound to your guys?” she asked.

“S’good,” said Danneel. You could hear the slight crack to her voice and you grabbed her hand.

“What about dad?”

“I’m okay with that,” he said.

“Let’s get this party on the road then, hm?”

Ten minutes later she was standing up as Jensen finished signing his name.

“Alright, Y/N. As of five seconds ago, Jensen and Danneel are no longer your foster parents and are your official and legal parents. How’s that feel?”

“I feel like I could have worn the blue dress,” you said. Jensen broke out laughing and the photographer caught it. You grinned and saw him take another as you heard some of your family members joining in.

“You did that on purpose,” he said as he settled himself.

“Obviously,” you said. The judge handed you something to hold and they situated themselves around you. A few more pictures were taken before you were heading out of the room, some girl around JJ’s age looking at a set of people with a nervous look. “It’s easier than it looks.”

She gave you a smile on your way out, waiting a moment for everyone that’d decided to come to filter out. Jensen grabbed your arm though and tugged you around a corner with Danneel and the kids, giving you a big grin.

“So, how you feel?” he asked.

“Good,” you said. “Very good.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” said Arrow. You laughed and she looked up at you, cocking her head. “Did you get arrested?”

“No, you sassy child,” you said. “I got adopted.”

“What’s that?” asked Zeppelin who was wandering off down the hall.

“Zepp!” shouted Danneel, chasing after him and pulling him back.

“Well it means I am no longer technically not your sister,” you said. The twins stared at you and JJ pouted.

“I thought you already did that,” she said.

“Nothing impresses these children, I swear,” said Jensen as his dad rounded the corner. “It’s an important day. Oh hey, dad. Can you get a picture before the masses try to take up all her time?”

“Sure,” he said, taking Jensen’s phone. “I got you a really good present, not to brag or anything.”

“I thought I said no presents.”

“We lied,” he said, holding up the camera. “Say cheese!”

“Well hello Ms. Ackles,” said Jensen late that night, long after people had gone home or to hotels or were sleeping on the couches around the house. You looked up from where you sat by the fire, watching the flames flicker. You were bundled down in your hoodie and a pair of sweats, Jensen carrying a small bag with him.

“You write me another letter and you do realize I’m gonna run out of tears at some point right?” you asked.

“You loved it,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and set the bag down by your feet. He sat down in the chair beside you, resting the two cans of beer from the brewery on the arm. He picked one up and held it over to you. “Come on. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I’ve never had beer before,” you said. 

“We did something right with you,” he chuckled. “It’s a big day. One beer won’t kill you. You’ll probably even get drunk from it so that’s exciting.”

“You’re such a guy,” you said, taking it from him. You popped the tab open and took a sip, making a face for a second. You took another one and liked it better. By the third you actually liked it. “It’s good. I think.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “Just go slow.”

“Worrywart,” you said. You slumped back into your seat, enjoying the smell of the fire as a cool breeze tickled your face. “What’s in the bag?”

“That red dress,” he said. You peeled open your eyes and he shrugged, staring at the fire. “Someday when you’re older, you’re gonna want a dress like that. You’re gonna wipe him off his feet.”

“Thanks, Jensen,” you said. “I liked all of them. I was...I don’t think I’m gonna be scared anymore. I’m gonna try not to be.”

“Good. Except for bugs though.”

“Bugs is forever and always your department,” you said.

“Gonna call me to come kill the spider when you live in your own house?” he asked.

“Yes. 100% yes,” you said.

“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling as he sunk down and took a long swig. “De said you’ll find out about early acceptance at UT week after next.”

“Yeah. I got the grades. I just hope I did well enough on my paper. The architecture program is kinda selective,” you said.

“She said you don’t want to live on campus, you want to commute,” he said.

“If that’s okay.”

“You can live here forever. I will take every second I can have. I just wanted to make sure that’s what you wanted. We’re paying for whatever you don’t get in scholarships. From what your guidance counselor says, you’re looking at a half-ride already.”

“I’d like to stay. I haven’t been here that long,” you said.

“No, you haven’t. Been an interesting year,” he said. “Good year.”

“Yup,” you said, snuggling into the fleece hoodie.

“I’m not getting my hoodie back, am I,” he said.

“We can share? It’s fleece.”

You burrowed into it and he nodded.

“We can share. I want visiting rights for my vacation with De at the beginning of next year,” he said. 

“She still doesn’t know, right?” you asked. He shook his head and you smiled. “She’s gonna love it Jensen.”

“Fingers crossed. Speaking of that trip, I have a favor to ask. Would you be opposed to watching the kids that weekend?”

“I thought grandma and grandpa were coming down,” you said.

“They were but it was in the middle of a trip they were supposed to take. We said it was covered. Think you can survive a few days without us?”

“You trust me?” you asked. He smiled and took a sip from his can.

“We’ll go over a few things so you’re not overwhelmed. You can do it. We just didn’t want to take up your whole weekend if you didn’t want to,” he said.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Thanks. I think you guys will have fun,” he said. “Can I ask you something at risk of possibly making you want to go undo what we did today?”

“Well now I’m interested,” you said, looking over to him. “Shoot.”

“Why do you never talk about your parents or growing up with them outside of therapy?”

You shrugged and he returned it.

“You can talk to us about them. We would really love to know more about them and what they were like,” he said. “We know they were good but you treat them sometimes like a before it seems that you don’t want to go back to.”

“You know what I said in therapy.”

“I know what I said too. You’re not making us jealous or making us feel inadequate,” he said. “Talk about whatever you want to talk about, always. I just wonder sometimes.”

“How easy is it for you to remember before you were ten?” you asked.

“Fair point. I got more years on you though.”

“I remember some, not all of it. I don’t remember what they said to each other. I don’t remember what we used to talk about at dinner. I just remember feelings mostly. They’re good ones. Mostly.”

“The accident.”

“Yeah. My mom had a miscarriage about six months before,” you said. “She was a couple months along I think.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It was enough that they told me. A week later...it went bad. They had problems having kids they told me. They’d been trying a long time to give me a sibling they said.”

“I never knew that either.”

“I know that breakfast, the day of the accident, they talked to me about this, adoption. I was already ten and they wanted to know what I thought about adoption,” you said with a laugh. “They had no idea what was gonna happen that night.”

“If every parent could see every horror that was out there for their child, I’m pretty sure you’d never leave your room again,” he said. “So what’d you think back then?”

“I was excited. Really excited. My life seems very different then than now. I don’t try to hide them. I think about them everyday. I don’t know what to say is all.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You can if you want to is all.”

“I know.”

“That was very sweet what you said earlier back in court.”

“Jensen,” you said.

“Alright, alright. Enough sap for one day,” he said. “It really was a good day?”

“Best day in a long time. Well, second best day,” you said. He cocked his head and you shrugged. “Day I came here wasn’t that bad either.”

“You like us,” he teased.

“Oh shut up,” you said, taking a drink.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he said. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“You’re such a dork, Jensen.”

“I know but you love it.”

“You’re alright,” you said, finishing off your can. 

“Happy adoption day, tall munchkin,” he said.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Back at ya,” he said. “Now about that present…”

________

A/N: Read the Oh Baby timestamp here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn fanfiction #jensen x

[electrictoes]

People Like Sunlight

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Appreciation Week

Day 7: Secrets (AKA another excuse for a “how the squad find out” fic)

Read on AO3

The Saturday morning trip to the zoo is long belated - Noah and Jesse have been asking to go for months but with one thing and another - Elliot Stabler crashing back into Liv’s life, Amanda’s father stumbling back into hers - they’re only now finding a day when they are both free from both professional and social obligations.

They meet at the entrance to the zoo, Noah calling out when he sees them approaching. Amanda’s got Jesse’s hand held tight in hers to keep her close by; Sonny has Billie on his shoulders already, and Amanda’s sure he’s going to regret telling Amanda not to bother with the stroller, that he’d carry Billie when she got tired, but Billie’s having the time of her life, shouting Noah’s name when she spots him from her vantage point above the heads of the crowd.

Liv greets Amanda first; a hug for Jesse and a wave to Billie, “I didn’t know you were joining us, Carisi.”

“Is that okay?” Sonny asks.

Liv smiles at him, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t mean to crash your day, I’ve just been spendin’ a lot of time with Jesse an’ those animal books Noah gave her. I just wanted to-”

“I thought it’d be nice for the girls to have both their godparents here,” Amanda cut in when she spotted a question in Liv’s expression - most likely focusing on a lot of time. “And he’s carrying Billie, so I don’t have to.”

Liv nods, “It’s fine, Noah was already feeling a bit outnumbered.”

“I wasn’t,” Noah protests, but he’s grinning, “Hi Uncle Sonny!”

Sonny lets go of Billie’s right leg to give Noah a high five, then ducks his knees so that Billie can do the same - it’s endearing; Amanda loves the way Sonny is with the girls, but he’s been this way with Noah for just as long, and it’s always brought a warm feeling to her stomach, one she didn’t have a name for until recently.

By early afternoon Noah and Jesse are grumbling about their legs hurting - Billie is yet to walk anywhere so she’s doing just fine, although Sonny definitely looks like he could do with a break even if he won’t admit it - so they stop for a picnic. Jesse and Noah chase each other around the grass once they’d finished eating, Billie has dozed off with her head on Amanda’s leg and Amanda strokes a hand gently through her hair as she sleeps.

They chat quietly about their plans for the rest of the weekend, about their day so far, about the weather; it’s nice, spending time just relaxing together, the sounds of the children’s laughter making its way back to them.

After about fifteen minutes of chasing each other, Noah and Jesse return to their picnic blanket, Jesse crashing into Sonny and reaching for her water bottle while Noah sits next to Liv. Once they’ve caught their breath Noah looks over at Sonny, “Hey Uncle Sonny?”

Sonny turns to Noah, his hand on Jesse’s back, steading her as she takes a huge gulp of water, “Yeah?”

“Can you come to our house and make pancakes for my breakfast tomorrow?”

Sonny’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as Liv shakes her head at her son, “Noah, that’s not really something you can expect Uncle Sonny to do.”

“But he went over and made pancakes for Jesse this morning,” Noah protests.

Sonny resists the urge to look at Amanda as he stumbles out an excuse, “Well, only because we were-”

“He didn’t come over for pancakes, Noah,” Jesse says, turning onto her back and leaning against Sonny, feet digging into the picnic blanket.

“You said he made real pancakes not from a box.”

“He did!” Jesse yells, sitting upright and ignoring Amanda’s reminder that Billie is sleeping, “But Mommy and Uncle Sonny had a sleepover first,” she adds.

Noah’s eyes go wide and he turns to look at his mother, but Liv isn’t giving anything away.

“Hey,” Amanda says, “Why don’t you guys go over and see the sea lions again - let Billie finish up her nap.”

Jesse, who has no idea what she’s just revealed, jumps happily to her feet, but Noah - who at nine years old realises that this is kind of a big deal without understanding why - is reluctant. He wants to watch how this unfolds.

“Go on, Noah,” Liv says, “Jesse’s too little to go by herself.”

The three of them sit in silence as Jesse tugs Noah down the bank towards the sea lions - three pairs of eyes on the children and none of them on each other.

“I think spending time with Jesse and Billie is good for him,” Liv says, and then she turns to look at them both, “So, a sleepover?”

“Well, it got late an’-” Sonny starts, but Liv fixes him with a look.

“Don’t lie to me, Carisi,” she says, taking a sip from her bottle of water, her eyes drifting between the two of them.

“It’s still new,” Amanda admits, reaching over to place a hand on Sonny’s knee. “It’s not a secret, we’re just-”

“Not advertising it?” Liv nods, “Well, whatever the two of you do in private is your own business,” she says, “But if it gets serious, then-”

“It is,” Sonny interjects, resting his hand on top of Amanda’s, “It’s serious. And we will do whatever we need to, work-wise.”

“I’m really happy for you both,” Liv tells them.

Sunday morning is more chaotic than usual this week. They’re going out to Staten Island for their first official Carisi family gathering and Amanda is nervous enough without her children running rings around them both. The girls had chosen this morning to sleep until a reasonable hour for the first time in their lives - meaning that Amanda’s assertion they didn’t need to set an alarm was proved wrong - and she already feels like she’s two steps behind. Jesse has changed her outfit twice, and Amanda has given up trying to brush her hair; she leaves her in the girls’ bedroom choosing which jacket she’d like to take and seeks out her youngest who had slipped out of sight while Amanda was persuading Jesse not to select a third t-shirt - Sonny’s escaped the chaos by taking Frannie for her morning walk; no little shadows accompanying him today because no one is ready to leave the house.

She finds Billie in the living room, crouched down behind the couch and looking very suspicious.

“Billie? What are you- is that Uncle Sonny’s phone?” Billie has Sonny’s phone gripped in her sticky hands, she’s grinning down at and doesn’t look away until Amanda tries to take it from her.

“Billie’s,” she says, gripping the phone tighter.

“Give it to Momma, please,” Amanda tells her, a firm look on her face which actually works for once; Billie releases her hold on the phone just as Amanda sees the video filling the screen, “Oh- Chief, I-”

“Good morning Detective Rollins,” Garland says, smiling at her, seemingly unconcerned by having a conversation with her two-year-old at 10am on a Sunday.

“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said, “Did Billie call you? I don’t know where she-”

Before Amanda can finish her sentence, she hears a key in the lock, the sound of Frannie’s paws on the wooden floor, and Sonny’s voice sailing down the hallway towards her, “Hey, Rollins - do you remember me puttin’ my phone down last night?”

“It’s here,” she says, but before she can warn him that she’s got Garland on a video call right in front of them he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek as he reaches for the phone, his eyes going wide when he realises.

“Chief - I didn’t- everythin’ okay?” Amanda ducks away, leaving him with the phone in his hands; she picks up Billie before she can cause anymore chaos and carries her towards the bathroom to try and rid her of the sticky residue on her hands and face.

Sonny joins her in the girls’ bedroom a few minutes later; she’s brushing Jesse’s hair back while Billie runs in a circle around them. He gives her a reassuring smile, “He just wanted to check on somethin’ for the Dyer case, Billie must’ve answered it, probably didn’t even mean to,” he tells her. “And he, uh- he said not to worry about Billie, Abby used to be grabbin’ at phones and stuff all the time. He gets it.”

Amanda finishes tying Jesse’s hair back and turns to look at him, “And?”

“He didn’t say anything outright about, uh, us. He didn’t ask and I-” Sonny stops, looking down at the phone still in his hand, “Oh.”

“What?” Amanda asks, standing up and walking towards him, avoiding Billie’s invisible running track.

“Email from Garland,” he says, turning his phone towards her once he’s opened the email - the subject line is Disclosure Paperwork and there’s one file attached.

It has been the worst Friday night Amanda has worked in a long time - she had been ready to clock off at midnight; head home and slip into bed next to Sonny; he’d let her lie in a little in the morning, tell her to get some more sleep while he got up with the girls. But a call came it at 11:25 about a missing foster kid, and now it was nearing 3am, she was exhausted down to the bone and emotionally drained - and that was pretty good shape compared to Kat; equally worn down, but with a split lip, a black eye and shaking hands to go with it. Amanda had been two steps behind her walking into that room, and she’d been quick to take down the perp, but the shock of the violence combined with the sight that greeted them when they looked up - it was enough to bring the most seasoned detective to their knees.

As they grabbed their things at the precinct, Amanda found herself watching Kat, her stiff movements, her quiet, lost gaze. She knew that look, and she knew what came with it, “Where are you going now?” she asked.

“Home.”

Amanda frowned, “Is Celine still out of town?”

“Yeah,” Kat nodded as they walked towards the elevator together, “She’ll be back on Sunday night.”

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Amanda said, protectiveness coming over her.

“It’s fine,” Kat shrugged, “I’m not going to show up at my parents’ house in the middle of the night.”

“Come back to mine,” Amanda said - it wasn’t an offer. She’d worry about letting Kat into the spaces of her life, her relationship, that she’d been keeping quiet another time; her priority right now was keeping her partner, her friend safe - she hadn’t been quick enough to prevent the physical injuries, but she’d definitely sleep a little better knowing that Kat wasn’t at home on her own.

“You’ve got kids to worry about, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Amanda said firmly, her hand gently on Kat’s arm stopping her from walking away, “Look, we’ve got to look out for each other. You know how many times I made Carisi sleep on my couch when we were partners?”

Kat smiles at that; probably picturing Amanda forcing Carisi into her apartment after a tough shift. It was never that difficult with Carisi though - suggest dinner, time with the girls, and he’d always say yes.

“Alright, okay,” Kat gives in as the elevator arrives.

“It’ll be loud in the morning,” Amanda warns her, “But it’s better than being alone with your thoughts.”

She slips into bed later than planned; she’s set Kat up on the couch, told her to knock if she needs anything during the night. Sonny rolls over almost immediately when she touches a hand to his bare arm, and he gives her a sleepily smile, “You’re back.”

“Hey,” she whispers, “Keep you voice down; Kat’s here.”

He frowns in confusion, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Tough day - night,” Amanda tells him, and his arm comes around her in comfort, “Better she’s not alone.”

“Course,” Sonny says, pulling her little closer; he knows what that’s like. He glances up towards the door, “Do you want me to-”

“What? Sneak out the fire escape?” she shakes her head, smiling at his ridiculousness, “No, we’ve got a few hours before the girls are up, we can figure it out then.”

Amanda has slept maybe three hours when Jesse comes hurtling into the bedroom without knocking - they’re working on that - and rushes over to the bed, speaking at a volume far higher than necessary, “Mommy, Kat’s on our couch!”

“I know, baby,” Amanda says, reluctantly opening her eyes to see her five-year-old leaning in inches from her face, “She slept over. Don’t wake her up.”

“I wanna watch cartoons,” she protests. Sonny reaches for his phone on the nightstand and leans over Amanda, waving it sleepily at Jesse.

“You can watch on here,” he offers.

Jesse grins, “Can I get in bed with you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, clambering over Amanda’s body to wiggle into the small space between her and Sonny.

“Just don’t call anyone,” Amanda says as Jesse takes Sonny’s phone.

Amanda doesn’t go back to sleep - the cheery cartoon sounds coming through the phone speaker keep her on the edge of wakefulness, but some time passes before she hears Sonny and Jesse whispering to each other.

“But the sun has been up for forever,” Jesse is saying, her negotiation head on. Too bad she’s trying to out manoeuvre a prosecutor.

“That’s because it’s summer,” Sonny tells her, “Mommy and Kat got back very late last night so we’ll let them sleep a little more first.”

“But I don’t wanna stay in bed.”

“Okay,” he says, and Amanda smiles to herself, knowing Jesse definitely thinks she’s winning this argument. “You can stay here and watch cartoons on my phone, or you can come with me to walk Frannie.”

The bed shifts beside her and Amanda opens one eye to see Jesse wrapping her arms around Sonny’s neck pleadingly, “But I want to watch TV in the-”

“Nice try,” Sonny says, tickling her sides until she lets go. “That wasn’t one of the choices.”

“Fine,” Jesse says, with no small amount of drama, “Let’s go for a stupid walk.”

“Jesse-”

“We don’t say stupid,” Jesse sighs, “Sorry Uncle Sonny.” She climbs over Amanda to get out of the bed, creeping out of the door in a way she probably thinks is quiet.

Sonny presses his lips to Amanda’s shoulder as he climbs out of bed, “I’ll make it a long walk. Want me to take Billie too?”

“If she’s awake,” Amanda says gratefully, leaning up for a proper kiss before he gets dressed.

The apartment is quiet, but Amanda still can’t get back to sleep - she heard the door go, Sonny and the girls leaving as quietly as he could get them to, but sunlight is streaming in through the curtains and she’s too awake now to drift off. She gives up after ten minutes and goes to take a shower. On her way back down the hall she hears the sound of her old coffeemaker coming to life, and walks into the kitchen to see that Kat’s awake; the bruise on her eye is purpling but her lip looks less swollen than the night before, “Good morning.”

“Hi I was just making a coffee-” Kat gestures to the machine, she looks a little uncertain, or maybe that’s just the tiredness seeping in.

“It’s fine, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks for letting me stay, it was good not to wake up in an empty apartment,” Kat says, taking a second coffee mug and holding it up to Amanda who nods.

“Any time,” Amanda assures her.

Once they’re both sat in the living room with their coffee mugs in their hands, Kat looks over at Amanda, a smile on her face, “So, I saw something interesting this morning.”

Amanda bites her lip, preparing for what comes next, “What was that?”

“Counsellor Carisi… creeping out of your bedroom,” Kat looks very pleased with herself as she takes a long sip of her coffee, waiting for Amanda’s response.

Amanda doesn’t see any sense in denying it, “Yeah, you probably did.”

“Don’t worry,” Kat says reassuringly, “I’m not going to say anything to the captain.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda waves Kat off, “She already knows - we disclosed two weeks ago, we’re just not advertising it.”

Kat’s eyes go wide at that, “Wait, what? I never- well, you two have always been kind of,” she shrugs, “At least since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Amanda smiles, “We kind of have.”

Amanda knocks once on Sonny’s office door before pushing it open, “Hey Counsellor,” she says, a smile just for him as she slips into the office.

“Hey Detective Rollins,” Sonny says, a smirk on his own lips.

She crosses the room and perches on the end of his desk, “Work call,” she tells him, but she isn’t in any hurry to rush him along.

He leans back in his chair, closing the case file he has open and looking up at her, “What do you need?”

“A warrant for Delugo’s phone records,” Amanda tells him - it is the primary reason for her visit, although she probably could have asked him over the phone, waited until he dropped the warrant off to see him. She likes finding excuses to come over here though, to see him in Counsellor Carisi mode in his own office, even with the mismatched paint and dented filing cabinets. That isn’t new with the change of their relationship - she’s been looking for reasons to swing by the DA’s office ever since he left SVU.

Sonny knows that, knows full well that if it were any other ADA she’d have just phoned, “Alright,” he nods, leaning forward, his face much closer to hers, “but it’ll cost you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Amanda asks, fingers tracing up the tie she’d watched him put on earlier that day, “What’s the fee?”

“Hmm, I think we can negotiate something-” he says, leaning in until his lips are hair’s breadth from her own. She closes the gap without hesitating, taking his bottom lip between hers as she draws him close.

They’re interrupted by the door opening, and a familiar voice groaning at them, “Oh no. Not today.”

Amanda pulls back from the kiss, turning to look at her sergeant over her shoulder. “Fin,” she grumbles, “Don’t you knock?”

“Door’s open,” Fin says, “Didn’t realise it was getting all R-rated in here.”

Sonny rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair, “It was just a kiss, Fin.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Fin says, hands up, “I don’t know anything.”

“Everyone else already knows,” Amanda says, enjoying the way his expression changes. She is kind of touched that he would have been willing to deny all knowledge if she and Sonny were carrying on a secret relationship though.

Fin frowns at being the last to know. “Since when?”

“Your wedding,” Amanda smiles, “Not wedding.”

“Damn,” Fin shakes his head, “You’re welcome.” He steps fully into the room, holding out a manila folder for Sonny to take. “Liv asked me to drop that off on my way to the courthouse.”

“Thanks Fin,” Sonny says with a nod.

As Fin backs out of the office Amanda stands up, moving around Sonny’s desk, “I better get back. I forgot Fin was in court today.”

“I’ll let you know once I’ve got that warrant,” Sonny says; he’s not keen to see her go but they’re balancing this personal/professional life thing pretty well on the whole - and it’s easier saying goodbye when you know you’re going to be going home together.

“I’ll owe you that fee,” Amanda says, enjoying the way his expression changes as she glances back at him over her shoulder. She knows he’s watching her go; he’ll keep his eyes on her until she’s out of sight and then he’ll pick up his pen and get back to work - a smile still lingering on his face.

Summer’s drawing to a close - afternoons like this one will fade away, replaced with the dim light and cool breeze of the Fall. It’s been the best summer Amanda has had in a long time - for a lot of reasons, but chief amongst them has been letting herself have something she’s longed for since she was a child - the genuine love of a man who she loves right back, her children’s laughter filling their daily lives, friends who have become family around them and there for them.

Before summer ends and Jesse, Noah and Abby go back to school, Garland and his wife have invited them all over for a backyard barbecue, and it’s the first time they’ve all been together outside of work since the not-wedding - the first time she gets to walk into a space filled with their friends, her fingers slotted neatly between Sonny’s.

Jesse and Billie raced ahead of them through the house and into the backyard, chasing the sound of Noah’s excited yells; Amanda and Sonny follow Lamai out to join them; the sun is warm, the scent of good food wafts across the yard, music’s playing softly in the background. The children are huddled together at the bottom of the yard, and from the looks of Billie’s face they’ve already managed to sneak some cake from somewhere.

Sonny releases her hand, a kiss to her cheek before moving to where Fin and Stabler are standing near the grill. Amanda takes an empty seat next to Liv, turning to greet her friends - they’ve all got stupid smiles on their faces and she laughs, shaking her head, “What?”

“Nothing,” Liv says, “It’s nice. Seeing you two like this.”

Amanda bites back a comment about Stabler’s presence - she knows Liv is genuine and she wants to embrace it - so she just nods, leaning back in her chair as the conversation returns to its earlier topics, her gaze moving between Sonny and the children - and then to Sonny and the children when he abandons his spot by the grill to check up on them; within seconds he’s on the floor, a pile of kids on top of him as he dramatically begs for mercy and Amanda has never been more in love with this ridiculous, wonderful man.

He catches her eye across the yard and gives her a wink; yeah, she’s definitely in love.

#carisi week #sonny carisi #rollisi #svu #rollisi fic #amanda rollins #svu fic #my fic