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chlmtsdoll · 18 days

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Guys I loved writing the first short n sweet inspo fic so here’s more bc that ovulation album is too good <3

WHERE ART THOU ? WHY NOT UPONETH ME ?

౨ৎ Summary: your hosting a slumber party at Art’s mansion. But you can’t quite stay away from your pull to get the man in a room where there are no others. Inspo from Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter 🤍

+ 18 | very much smut !, unprotected sex, age gap, (reader early 20’s) dilf!Art, size kink, first daddy kink fic (omg) semi-public sex, oral (f) reviving, pet names, this made me feel a bit slutty just writing it, needy!reader, fatherly Art ;)

A/N: the fucking edits on tiktok of Mike to Bed Chem are making me go insane ! just when I thought there was no possible way for me to be crazier over this man omfg. So I had to give the girls a fic to go w it ofc <3

It was like fate. The day you met him.

Nothing could of been more perfect when the stars aligned to bring you to accompany your solid group of trust fund friends to one of his tournaments that evening. You were like most girls your age, makeup, pop music, nice ornaments for your wardrobe — you weren’t the kind of girl that could say she knew much about sports, and certainly little to nothing to be caught landing a seat at the us open... but eventually that grew to be a substantial part of what found him to be so drawn to you.

It was that day when you’d been in the bleachers watching the blonde play like it was his life’s greatest prophecy. For the first time in your still too little years of living, you’d never felt that aroused by a man you’d only saw from the mere view of him hitting a ball with a racket.

But he was unearthly.

Built like how men used to be. Face like it came straight from heaven. Serve like he knew a thing or two in bed.

You were drunk on want, need for him. You were damn lucky your friends were loaded enough to go to all the after parties with most of the star athletes. It was insane to you that you would follow the vip and your most sports driven friends (enthusiast if you will.) to where the elites spend their time. You wanted a nice hang out. Good food. Expensive drinks. But it was between you and the universe that you’d leave with so much more.

You were in a sheer dress and kitten heels when he spotted you. Just his star studded sly smile from across the event hall, when he saw you and your friends conversing in mostly a pretentious manner like most kids your age did when they could afford the lifestyle most people only dreamed of. But not you, you were entranced, pulled away. By his wide, blue eyes that you assumed filled with the same yearn you’d been struck with. And to your quick manifest, Art was gazing right back at you.

Only sharing a couple brief exchanges with the tall and stature, modest but kindly — beautiful and magnetic man around mutual friends, before you’d both been rushed to leave. Him with his team, and you with your entourage.

Like that you were tied to the tennis star in the blink of a moment. And Soon enough — being photographed with him around the heat of the city.

Games, athlete dinner parties, press events. Even photos of you two sharing more than a couple of words, maybe even kisses, behind menus at glamorous rooftop restaurants. Magazine outlets went crazy through the roof in just a few weeks time. Milking whatever they could out of Art Donaldson and his controversially younger girlfriend.

They didn’t have enough tabs on what you two had officially been to one another and that was perfect for the two of you. Because now that time has pushed you and the blonde closer and more into each other — you’d spend days and nights locked away with Art in his new found mansion post his former divorce. Home so beautifully articulated and big enough for you to be extra generous with your time with the dream boat of a man.

It would go down in history what the two of you had done in every room.

Now, a gorgeous weekend ahead of you after your week that was always filled with Art treating you to the finest cooked dinners, at home date nights filled with breezy smiles and full closeness to balance your dates out on the town. Going wherever you felt just to hold hands under umbrellas and traffic lights. With all the new adorned love in your life, and man with too much mystic taking up your time, it had been a good minute since you saw your girlfriends, caught up or shared a drink. You were just so wound up in Art and the way he treated you like a princess to, and in your own world.

So you’d asked Art if you could host a sweet little sleepover for you and your girls at the mansion — and of course he complied. It was anything for his perfect girl since the beginning.

“I could ask the chef to whip up some,” Art spoke into you as he held your hips in his vast hands running carefully over the hem of your satin bottoms as you stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen with him.

“That’s okay, I wanna do it.” You laughed softly, as you stared up at the man. “Nothing says fun girls night like making our own home made friandises”

Art had tilted his head in slight confusion with eyes in question to your tone when you’d practice what you’d been learning in your French courses on him. It was all the most adorable to you really. Your laugh echoed.

“Treats, baby.”

“I- - I knew that,” He scoffed and your giggles were infectious with delight to him.

“It’s gonna be fun. We’ll watch movies, paint our nails, share snacking tips. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the girls.”

Art grinned at the way you lit up with excitement, and his icy eyes looked down at your figure below him. He tried not to bite down on his lip at the way you were in the pajamas usually he only saw you in. Pink lace two piece jammies. Completely recognized because he got them for you. The transparency to them was way too easy on the eyes.

Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips before he questioned, “Is that what you’re wearing ? There aren’t gonna be any boys.. right ?”

“No, silly. That of course counts out you — if.. you wanna join us.” You looked up at him through your lightly mascara coated lashes, it felt as if the flirtatiousness through your gaze just hooked Art by the belt.

“No, no. I’ll give you and your friends your space, doll.” The blonde gave you a chary little smile, “I really doubt they’d want an old man around while you’re trying to have fun.”

“Quit it ! You’re not old. And they adore you.” You stood on the tips of your toes, Art met you so you could leave a sweet kiss on his cheek, with a blush to your own.

“Thank’s for letting me have this little party, baby.”

“Course, what else would be better use for all this space ? Other than for the amusement of twenty something girls.”

Art chuckled and you surely were in agreement, because when your girlfriends did arrive it was immediately shrieks of girlish camaraderie and chatter of awe as you brought them around the place of posh and eloquent nature. Your laugh could of been heard from the other side of the place where Art had eventually been stored away for the night while your hands were knee deep in cookie dough and rainbow sprinkles. Pj sets all from the brands you and your friends never stopped talking about. Having your night filled with reruns of classic movies to sipping champagne.. and the wine, red, (your pick) was certainly slipping through you as the moments went on.

You’d been with your best friend when you two had a moment alone to catch up in one of the halls of the buoyant abode. Whispers and giggles coming from between the two of you as a glass of wine hung from your palm.

“God, he was a such a cutie.” She coo’d as you two had found a very special wall of framed photos of Art from back in his prime tennis days. The blonde around your age who seemed filled with joyfully energetic faces and awards from across the globe. A smile woke upon your face as you folded your arm to admire the man you’d now call your own.

“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” you simpered. “But I’m beyond lucky now. Because he’s still cute, and sexier.”

You tittered fondly and your friend laughed with you as she playfully tugged on your shoulder. “You gotta lock that down, y’know… you’ll be like- - hella famous just from being a world class tennis superstars hot young wife.”

She announced as she sipped on something burgundy and you thought with a heightened grin. She couldn’t have been farther from right. And as the months go by you would fall farther and farther head over heels for Art every day. You’d be his wife in an instant. That was the dream after all, and you could certainly say you’d been living one.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to put a ring on it..” You smiled with a dazed shrug as you embarked your wine glass to your lips again.

“He better.” Your friend chirped with a proud glint and you couldn’t help but stay stuck in your thought of your boyfriend who’s been just a few rooms away for the past couple of hours while you’d been enjoying all the perks of your girls making the most of their time with you. But you couldn’t help but want Art to be nearby now, and the red wine in your system maybe hit more than just your head — you couldn’t even try to fight it.

You missed your man.

So after you’d take in a few more drinks and a bit sensually themed games with your friends, you’d made your attempt escape off to find Art. Slipping away from the girls was easy when you’d have every necessity needed to execute a very graceful grown up girl sleepover provided for them.

You’d been walking down the hall heading to where his office and master bedroom would be at the end of the home, and as you passed by the lush kitchen area, to your surprise, there he was. Muscles looked enchantingly delicious in this light as they flexed to pull on the fridge handle and when he turned, his eye line met your glance staring back his way (of course you’d both arrive at the same time.) Arts lips began to curl in an amours grin when he saw your petite figure making it’s way over to him with the same like of smile across your face.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?” He glanced down at you through his blonde lashes to meet your nod, only following up with a soft titter as you stepped closer to the man. He almost immediately picked up on the lust laced within your eye and the way you slightly leaned onto the fridge door with your aura basically gooing with sex at him now. The blonde had an eyebrow furrowed as he chuckled just a bit and he sized you up.

“Are you drunk, princess?”

“No. No… no,” you shook your head.

It had been true. You weren’t drunk, but a little wine tipsy and horny ? Definitely.

Art hummed and put the back of his hand to your forehead gently as he observed your state. “Did you eat?”

“Mhm, did you ?”

“No. That’s why I came down, not to stalk you. I promise.” The man laughed, to which you did as well and you only raised your arms so they could embrace your boyfriend’s shoulders with a soft hum.

“Y’know, if you’re hungry, you can eat me.” Your finger tips grace Arts neck unashamed as you smile into the crook, and he took in a breath, proceeding to hold you close.

“Oh- -” his chuckle matched your giggle as he noticed you’d changed again. His hands were gliding up the ruffle of the even more transparent sheer cover on you’d been dressed in. Lime tinted. The shorts were near pantie like.

“Mmm, I miss you, I want you.” You peppered kisses as close as you could to his earlobe from your height and Arts breath hitched as he was weak to your slow but enticing touch to him. Fogging up his knowledge that you’d been right in the middle of the open kitchen that was just a few ways down from the living area your friends had been in.

“Here, sweetness ? Your friends- -” Art murmurs down to your ear, but you just locked your arms just above his shoulders without a care.

“And- - ? What about them ? I need you,” you whined. “I want your touch.”

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?”

You nodded again with a naughty giggle and the blonde was smirking now, his hands roamed your body. Large and groping your curves. As much as he knew what was rightful, Art just couldn’t deny your cling to him in that damn near lingerie that had him going almost unbearably hard beneath his jeans since you walked in. Feral even. It was beginning to get miserable as you pressed your dainty chest against his, he felt your nipples grow hard and sensitive against the cloth. So into his aroma, presence, like you were a moth to a torch.

He’d fallen into your pecks merging with his now. Kissing you against where the cupboards stand like your lips were candy. Your small legs stumbling as the man towered over you “Fuck, you look amazing in that set.” Art pulled away from your plump lips to view your gorgeously perfect petite body. You batted your lashes once. And his attain just couldn’t be stopped. Art slid his hands across your soft ass cheeks, massaging and kneading it in his palms before leading up to laying a solid smack which made you hiss out an excited squeal-like giggle. Your fingertips slid down his ample biceps brushed with virile bristles of hair.

“If I had known you’d like this set so much, I would of worn it much sooner for you.”

Art leaned into you and he held a sly smirk, “this was your plan all along, yeah? Wearing that to get my attention so I would come out here and fuck you in the middle of your slumber party.. you’re such a naughty girl.”

You only giggled more into his skin with a slow exhale, your freshly painted french tips exploring him as he explored you. Art took his sweet time just feeling the way your ass jiggled in his palms and you felt like you’d been going weak in the knees before his tender contact turned rough when he turned you around without warning, making you gasp.

Art made sure you could feel how hard you’d gotten him as he pressed himself to your core. Facing the counter, you lost yourself in complete bliss just to the feeling of not knowing where he’d pleasure you next — Arts restrained bulge against your clothed cunt was just something else. The blonde pushed up your sheer top just a bit and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you made a soft noise with it.

“Feel what you do to me, pretty girl.” Art nibbled on your earlobe and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to subtle your smile. His hands bracing your hips as he stared down at your lacy panties and your minx-like eyes followed Arts famished expression while he licked his bottom lip.

“All yours, daddy.” Your sweet voice immediately made Art go nearly lightheaded and that was it. He melted.

The man tucked both his thumbs into the fabric and pulled your panties down clean with raucousness, followed up with him getting down on his knees before spreading you with his palms and your hands reached for the marble with a soft whimper.

“That’a girl, stay open for me.. Let me taste you.” Art huffed out before he pushed one of your legs up on the counter and you breathed out at the feeling of him making your body his toy for amusement. Art took his fingers and ran them up your folds, getting them wet with the slick of your pussy. Your cheeks turned scarlet just at the wonderful pad of his index running against your core like that , making you let out a soft, “oh..” by the way he moved to rub around your clit. Arts lips kissed on your exposed inner thighs, and your jaw became unlocked extraordinarily far when his tongue finally rolled on the soft tissue.

He was splitting you clean open on the counter as tiny whimpers escaped your throat. You were lost in the draw you had to the man making you feel surpassing of even the way you played it all out in your head. “Mmm, yeah- - yes” you panted and the man flicked his digit over your bud at the same time he’d been making out with your cunt. Letting deep groans flow throughout your opening. You’d been on the tip of your toes for him. Letting him suck where you pulsed till you’d been overstimulated if he wanted.

Your head had been spinning from the friction of his perfectly sculpted nose rubbing against your sensitive area. Art was known to be gifted with his mouth so much so, you almost wondered if your friends would have heard if you just couldn’t keep your moans level — but with the way Art held your hips, fucked his tongue into your cunt like you’d been his last meal, your anxiousness washed away. All you could do was let the shake of your thighs and Arts dripping oral member lead you to a crisp pleasurable cry.

“Shit,” Art took a brief exhale as he pulled away from your entrance, dampened lips of your juices going wide with a grin and he ran his palms over your slick thighs again,

“you’re so fucking wet for me, princess. You gonna take my dick? Let me make you feel good?”

“Mmm, please. Fill me up, Art. I wanna feel you.”

“You gotta be quite for me, baby.” Art stood to his feet.

You didn’t care. All you could think about was dick. Arts phenomenal dick. You wanted him to toss you over and split you open till you were sobbing on his thick member, your wine drunk friends would understand. A girl has her needs.

The risk made your blood pressure rise as the moment went on, when Art reached over you to tug your panties dangling from your thighs all the way down — he kicked them off to the side. Taking note of his own belt buckle and undoing it quickly, which you only grew more greedy by the sound of him unzipping his fly. The blondes aquamarine orbs swam with the need to pump you fuller than you’d ever taken him.

“Bend over for me, sweet girl..” Art breathed out softly as his slightly calloused hands ran from your hip up your spine while you did so, bending over fully and displaying your sweet dripping cunt for the mans lidded eyes. He sucked in his breath and his now aroused dick twitched when it unveiled from his boxers — going barmy with just how tiny and soft you looked beyond him.

“So fucking tight and small- - your amazing with the way you take me when I barely fit in, sweets.”

You bit down on your finger as you watched Art run his hands over your ass. Take your hips and line his cock up with your hole. He hissed at the way your soaking cunt wet his tip, you almost croaked out a deep moan at his gestures to tease your pussy. Just nodding along as you’d gone cock drunk before he’d even been in you. Your nails run at the marble counter as Art slowly burrowed into your drooling core. Working you open as his cock disappeared into your body inch by inch — he pushed your thigh higher onto the ledge as you whined at the stretch.

“Ah.. mmm- - fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as you adjusted to the size of his warmth finally filling you full. Art was big. And he’d never want to put you, his sweet doll in discomfort for long, never. So when he started to plunge into you, he watched as your face scrunched up from ache to pleasure in time. His name sputtering from your mouth as you clawed at the counter top and he watched your pussy lips that were just throbbing around his erection like it was begging to be so sporadically fucked by him.

“That’s it baby doll,” his own groans heightened as his hips knock into your cervix, chasing that spot of yours till you were moaning and whimpering like a slut around him. Hole so full with yours and his pre-cum and you sucked in your bottom lip, tussled hair going wild on your back. You just had to look over your shoulder to watch him — see Arts gorgeous face as he snapped against you all shimmering with light sweat as he focused on the way a ring of your wetness pooled around his base.

“You love this, hu? Getting me to fuck you while your friends carry on without you- - At your party. But you just had to come.. looking for daddy’s cock, yeah? You love being a dirty, dirty girl for me.” Art rasped as he clenched his jaw with the overwhelming feeling of your tight cunt clenching him. It made your skin feel like it had been sparked with fire, so exhilarated. He put his hands in your hair to fuck into you as your jaw dangled open.

“Oh! F-fuck! I needed that big fucking dick, daddy… w-want you to cum all over me, mmm- -” you were choking out whimpers and your pretty little hole dripped with Arts pre-seed slipping from you, making it drag out when he pulled out of your pussy to turn you around and pick you up in one swift motion. Your high pitched gasp echoed as you wrapped your legs around the mans abdomen and Art set you on the counter. His lips curl up into a smirk and his eyes met your wide doe set ones. Slipping back into you he watched you cry out his name. Rutting into your heavenly body at this angle, hands go squeezing your thighs, and Art kept them apart as he took you at a wild pace. Hitting that gooey spot till you didn’t remember your own name. “Good fucking girl. That’s it- - such a sweet thing for me, taking all of my cock. It was made for you, doll.”

You couldn’t even catch your self as you’d leaned back on the counter and let Art pound into you. Your tits bounced with each thrust and you were shuttering as your orgasm ripped through you without warning. “Yes ! Ooh- - shit, yes yes yes…” you were whining out as you came on Arts dick. He held your legs spread as he grunted and watched you soak him uncontrollably. You loved it. Feeling like his perfect little gift. Art licked over his lips at the sight of your beauty, throwing your head back in bliss, he pulled out of you and pushed up your dainty little baby doll top — making space as he pumped his throbbing dick over your stomach till he himself came hard. Ropes shooting out on your candescent skin and making sure some got on your pussy just for the fun of it, he grinned and trailed his thumb up your gentle inner calf that had been dangling by his side.

You were whimpering like you’d gotten your brains fucked out to the sweetest soundtrack you’d ever heard. Art was so cinematic in moments like these, he leaned up to kiss at the nape of your neck, cheek, and lips.

“Pretty, perfect girl.. I love you.” Your gentleman muttered against your mouth. You smiled and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Art brought your panties up to help you slip them back over your thighs and to your feet as steady as you could. Dressing himself as well, he glanced down at you through his hooded eyes to see your impressively only slightly disheveled state. You were just always glowing, it was hard to make that go away anyways.

“You sleeping down here tonight?” Art buckled his pants again as he questioned you with a soft raised brow. You started to smirk at the way he was heading. You shrug.

“Maybe, maybe not… I’ll sneak into your room when they’re sleep, if you want.” You offered the man, the glint in your eye saying you’d suck his cock and let him have you in as many different positions as he’d like in a couple hours till you were all tapped out. The blonde only scuffed and towered over your presence that was still taken by your hoyden attitude, just to turn you back towards the door way.

“Go host your party.” he taunted almost fatherly, to then leave a light slap on your ass that made you giggle on the way out.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #dilf!art #challengers #challengers smut #x reader #challngers x reader #challengers fic #petite!reader #size k!nk #fanfiction #sabrina carpenter #short n sweet #bed chem

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xblackkurox · 1 year

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The Neighborhood

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, sub!reader x Dom!Toji, dirty talk, p in v, degradation, penetration, fingering, a bit of oral if you squint, slut shaming, big dick toji, you are doing it while Megumi sleeps, Toji is rough, spitting, unprotected sex (use it!), belly bulge, dacryphilia, cum eating, orgasm denial, Toji is a little mean, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed something!! And OFC: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!! This might be full of grammar mistakes since eng is not my first language, sowy :).

ENJOY BABES <3

In which you arrive to a new building to start a new life. Little do you know what type of neighbors await you.

First off, the older and tired single dad Toji, whom you help out with taking care of his kid a couple of times.

You looked around, hands in your hips. Finally, you say to yourself. It’s been a whole afternoon of unpacking and decorating, but your new apartment is officially done. You just arrived to this new building yesterday, first time living alone, actually first time moving out of your parent’s house.

The apartment was small, you didn’t really care and even if you did, that’s all you could afford at the moment. Looking at the bright side of it, it was quick to decor.

You wiped away a drop of sweat in your forehead, time for a shower.

Trail of your clothes to the bathroom, you turned on the shower and choose the artist for today. Arctic Monkeys it is. You enter the shower as the music starts blasting. The fresh water cleaning and relaxing you. The feeling is amazing, this is what freedom tastes like?

You are so immersed in yourself, vibing to the music and enjoying the water running down your body, you don’t even realize there is someone knocking at your door until the slams get hard enough.

Fuck, you swear to yourself. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and wrap it down your body. The knocking getting more and more insistent. You stop the song now playing and hurry to the door, still soaking.

“Going! Damn…” And you open the door.

Oh…

Tall, black haired, a scar on the corner of his lip. The too small for him shirt wraps his toned arms and chest, God you can even see his abs through it. His gray eyes looking at you, he’s obviously angry, but he still scans your barely covered body up and down.

“Turn the damn music down.” His deep voice commands.

“Why should I?” You raise a brow at him, annoyed that he is rudely scolding you for 10 minutes of some music. He ruined your well deserved relaxing shower.

He clicks his tongue before talking again, he looks like he’s having a hard time trying to control his tone while speaking. It’s actually pretty intimidating, specially because he is built like a wardrobe.

“Do you even know what time is it?” Before you answer back, he rises his hand slightly and stops you. “Late.” He states.

His fingers comb his dark hair back, he looks tired.

“Look, I live next door, I have a kid, and I’m trying to put him to sleep… So just stop being a brat and tone it down, alright?”

He almost sounds desperate. Your lips press together in an empathic and apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, didn’t know. It was just for my shower, so anyw…”

“Nice.” And he left to his still open door. Asshole, I should blast my music even louder now, you think to yourself.

You watch him walk and right before he closes the door to his apartment you see a little black haired kid rubbing his eyes. Well, maybe you behave for the little kid.

A couple of days later, you are eating some Chinese food in your couch when you hear a knock on the door. You stop scrolling down on your Instagram, put the food down on the table and head to the door.

When you open it, there’s no one… Until you look down. The little’s kid eyes wandering on the floor, you can see a slight blush on his cheeks. Squatting down to match his height, you tilt your head and give him a soft smile.

“Hello there… Is something wrong?” He seems a little cautious when talking to you.

“I can’t get inside the house… Dad is not here.”

“Well, do you know your dad’s number? I can call him.” The kid says no with his head.

“Ummmm… Alright, you can wait with me until he arrives, I’ll leave him a note on the door. Is that okay?” He nods, he hasn’t looked you once in the eyes yet.

He follows you into the apartment, you grab a post-it a quickly write there: “Your kid locked himself out of the house, he is with me. Atte: Your brat neighbor next door.”

Once it’s hooked to their door, you come back to your own house. The black haired child is standing awkwardly in your living room.

You sit in the couch and tap the place by your side.

“Sit here, we can watch TV.” He climbs beside you. “So, what’s your name?”

“Megumi…”

He’s so shy.

“And where’s dad?” Megumi looks directly at you for the first time.

“Working.”

“And you are alone?” A nod in response. “ Why were you out of the house?”

His cheeks blushing harshly, he looks away once again. He confesses anyway.

“There was a spider, the door closed.”

You hold in a laugh. “It’s okay, I am scared of spiders too. Now, are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” He declines politely. He is way more of a gentleman than his dad.

“You sure? I can order some pizza.” His eyes light up as he looks at you. “Pizza it is, then.”

Little by little, Megumi is loosening up a bit. He becomes more chatty while you eat pizza, he evens smile from time to time. You are getting done with dinner when knocks on the door interrupt you. Must be him.

You stand from the floor where you were with Megumi and walk to the door. The handsome man has the post-it in hand, his head peeks inside to check on the kid.

“He’s safe and sound, don’t worry.” His eyes lock with yours.

“Thank you…” He seems sincere.

“Wanna come in? He’s just finishing dinner.” His eyes widen while entering the apartment.

“Dinner? You didn’t have to…”

“I ordered pizza for me and shared, no big deal” You lie. He side eyes you, probably suspecting that’s not true.

He squats in front of Megumi. “How you doing kid? You’ve been good to the young lady, I suppose?”

Megumi nods, and shakes off the hand his dad places on his little head. Too focused on the TV. I laugh while sitting on the couch.

“Have a seat, don’t need to rush him.”

He sits beside you, his legs spread and his elbows on each knee. Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment, in this distance you can smell his manly scent. His eyes gaze at you.

“So, what’s your name, doll?” You answer. “Right, thank you again, y/n.”

You can tell by his deep voice how exhausted he is, so the next sentence you pronounce it carefully.

“Does Megumi stay alone at home often?” He remains silent for a moment, looking at you. Seemed like he was trying to figure out whether you were judging his parenting or not. Finally, he sighed and brushed back his hair.

“Nah, only when I work in the afternoons, not happens much… I usually work in the mornings and Megumi is at school.” His eyes looking down at his son, he’s finished with the pizza, but he is still enchanted with the movie on the TV.

You're playing with your own fingers in your lap, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“I could take care of him when that happens, I also work in the mornings.”

“Can’t pay for a babysitter.” He cuts you quickly.

“Wasn’t expecting to get paid. Megumi is a sweet kid, I wouldn’t mind taking care of him.”

The kid is sweet, but the dad is hot as hell.

His gray eyes light up slightly, he is looking so deep into you, you fear he could read your thoughts. He then looks at his son again.

“Hey Megu.” The kid turns his head to his dad with an annoyed grin. “Would you like to spend time here when dad’s not home?”

Megumi’s eyes look at you shortly. “Cool.” He simply answers, thumb up.

You laugh, a bit flattered with the kid’s approval. Toji sighs and gets up from the couch.

“Thank you doll. I’ll let you know beforehand each time.” The nickname giving you butterflies in your tummy.

“Sure.”

Toji grabs Megumi and puts him over his shoulder, walking to the door. The kid whines and demands to keep watching TV.

“Megumi be polite with the pretty girl and thank her.” Megumi obeys his father and mumbles a little “thanks” to you with embarrassment.

And like that, you became Megumi’s occasional babysitter.

……

You were laying in Toji’s couch, scrolling through your socials waiting for the man to get home. You putted Megumi to bed a while ago now, since it was already late at night.

You heard the keys on the lock and then the door opening. Toji’s lazy steps took a while to get into the living room. His eyes gazed at you as he took off his jacket.

“Comfortable there doll?” Were his first words as his gaze scanned your laying body.

“Megumi is in bed already.” You reply, putting away your phone and looking at him. His black bangs falling on his forehead, gray tired eyes.

“I figured.” He sits on the couch beside your feet.

“How’s work” You sit up on the couch.

“Good, actually got some news for you. I’ve been promoted at work, so from now on, ill be able to pay for an actual babysitter. You don’t need to do this no more.”

You clear your throat slightly before talking, don’t want him to notice the disappointment in your voice.

“Aw, so this is my last time baby sitting Megu?” He nods. “Hope I can still come around to hang out with him sometime.”

“I’m sure he would love that.” Would you? The question gets stuck in your chest.

“Well…” You say while getting up. “It’s been a pleasure-”

“Come sit on my lap.” He pats his thighs with his big hand.

“Wait… What?” You’re actually not sure if he said those words or your brain is playing a trick on you. Either way, you go red in your cheeks.

“You’ve heard me, sit on my lap.” Alright, he said that. You stay still. “Know you want it, so don’t make me repeat myself again.”

His voice sounds demanding and slightly annoyed. Even if you didn't want to, it would be hard to disobey him. Good for you that you wanted.

With shaky legs, you sit astride on his lap, your hands finding his hard chest for balance.

Now that you’ve obeyed him, his expression softens considerably. The scar on the corner of his mouth deforming into a mischievous smirk.

“There you go. Now don’t be so shy, I’ve seen how you look at me.” His big hand cups your face, his thumb gently rubbing your hot cheek. “Huh? Where did all your confidence go all of a sudden? Just wanna pay you back for taking care of my kiddo.”

The rough palm of his free hand teasing from your knee up your thigh, finding its way under your sporty shorts. Grabbing your ass cheek with no shame. Your legs tremble on top of him, your lips part as if to moan.

Toji lets out a mean chuckle before lifting you from your lap and throwing you back on the couch, you gasp as your back touches de cushions. The man wastes no time as he towers you and slides both your shorts and panties off your legs in a smooth motion.

“Oh? Toji!” Your voice coming out high-pitched.

“You better keep it quiet, doll face.” He spreads wide open your shaky legs. “Don’t wanna wake up Megumi now, don’t ya?”

Next thing you feel is two of his thick long fingers forcing its way inside of you, stretching you open. “W-wait.” You plead, trying to keep your voice lower this time.

“For what? You're already soaking wet, darling.” His palm smacks against your clit with each thrust, splashing your juices all over your belly and thighs.

“Fuuuuck-” A whine leaving your lips as he slides in another finger.

“Stop complaining, doin this for your own good.” He scissors and stretches you open, his thumb playing and rubbing in circular movements on your swollen button. With his other hand, he pulls your shirt over your bare breasts.

“Of course, not wearing bra, like the little whore you are.” He takes your nipple between his thumb and his index, pinching and pulling from it. You hiss, he’s too harsh. “You thought I was not gonna catch how your nipples always peek through your slutty clothes? Or maybe that’s exactly what ya wanted…”

He spits in your unattended breast right before spreading his saliva around your boob with his tongue. Your back arches when he teases with his teeth. Your hand covering your mouth, muffling soft moans.

Your hips start to roll back against his hand, a familiar tension building up in your stomach. By now, you already need to be biting on your fingers, so your pornographic sounds don’t get too loud. That’s when he pulls his thick, calloused fingers out from your pussy.

“You’re only cumming on my dick.” He sentences. “Now take off that shirt, don’t want it covering your pretty tits.”

As you do so, he also takes off his shirt. Exposing his very much toned torso, tell me about pretty tits. His gaze checking out your naked and spread body as he pulls down his trousers and boxers to his knees.

“Wait.” Your eyes widen.

You are no scared virgin, but you can’t deny the little sense of anxiety that settles in your chest when you see his size. Now you understand what he meant by that doing this for your own good comment.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit in.” Your voice coming out tremulous. His face turning into an almost cynical expression.

“Bet it does.” Your legs spread wider by his hands. By this point, it’s not even necessary, he just wants to see your soaking cunt on display for him. “And you're gonna take it with no nagging, got it?”

He doesn't even wait for an answer, a nod, some sort of approval. No, he is already pushing his thick and long cock pass your folds.

The sting of pain is immediate, making you shed some tears.

“Fuck Toji! It hurts!” His hand going to your mouth like a slap, except he keeps it there. Covering right under your nose, muffling any sound and pinning your head to the couch. You can taste yourself in the skin of his palm.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Threatening and deep voice, it shouldn’t turn you on so much.

Your eyes shut as he stretches you open and fills you up like you’ve never been before. He is looking down, watching how stuffed you are with his dick, a little bulge poking in your belly.

He moves, sliding himself out until just his fat tip is in, only to thrust all of him back in. Over and over again. The hand on your mouth, already wet with your tears and drool.

His jaw is clenched, growling in a predatory way.

“Don’t be so dramatic doll, from the way your sensitive cunt is throbbing and sucking me in I can tell you like it.”

He sets a fast pace, and finally he stops muzzling you. He chuckles when he sees your expression, watching how he already turned you into a whimpering mess.

Both his hands going to grip your waist, pushing your body down to meet his brutal ramming. He is gonna leave bruises there. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

“Nnnnnngh- so full-” Your fingers are grabbing the cushions, holding in for dear life.

“Fuck- I didn't think you were going to be so tight… Based on how slutty you look.”

Drops of sweat running down his pectorals to his abs, his skin shiny, just like yours must look too. Your breasts bouncing up and down with the back and forth of his hips.

Each time, being harder to swallow your own moans, as the pain fades away and the intense pleasure of being full replaces it.

Toji is fucking you out of your senses, losing consciousness of where you are and, of course, of how loud you are being.

He pulls out for a second, flipping you on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up, making your knees bend. Ass up for him. “Bite the damn cushion, since you can’t be fucking quiet.”

At first, you don’t do it, but when he thrusts back in, his pelvis smacking your booty cheeks, you hurry to grab a cushion and stuff your mouth with it.

You can hear him chuckle meanly behind you, hands massaging and spreading your ass as he keeps charging against you.

The plushie muffling your struggled cries.

“That’s it… next time we fuckin at your place, gonna make you bounce on my dick and be as loud as you want, alright doll face? Wanna hear those sweet whimpers of yours.” You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, nodding. You look so fucked up, a stray tear rolling down your blushed cheek. That view only fuels Toji’s lust, he goes harder and reaches deeper.

One of his hands wrap around your hair and yanks you up, your back pressed against his board chest. His other hand goes to your neck, choking you slightly. Not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to keep your sounds at bay.

Like this, he reaches too deep, hitting your cervix over and over again. You are getting closer, dangerously quickly. Your eyes roll back, and your hands search something to grip desperately, finding his forearms to dig your nails on.

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long.” You weren’t even doing that on purpose, you weren’t doing anything voluntary right now. Your mind too far gone to have any type of control over your body.

“Gonna cum inside, you are so sweet to my kid bet you would be a good mama huh? Want me to put a baby in you?”

You definitely not wanted to be a mother right now, but those words hit something primal within you. You nodded, head falling back in his shoulder.

“Yeah! Fill me up!” His grip in your throat and waist tighten after your words, the ramming so animalistic pushing you over the edge.

Your eyes rolling back, toes curling, whole body spasming, mouth wide open letting go hoarse and struggled babbling.

Toji cums right after, with some final sloppy thrusts. Filling your insides with his seed.

“Fuck- taking me so good-”

He lets go of you after a moment, causing you to fall to your previous position, back arched and ass lifted, eyes shut while you pant. Toji watches in delight how the mix of his cum and your juices drool out of you. The view enough to make him hard again.

“You alright there doll face?” His voice was hoarse and sounded out of breath. His hands wrapped around your waist to flip you around. He chuckled at your fucked out expression.

You bat your wet eyelashes at him, finally coming back to reality, a little nod to his question.

“Good. Now, how many times you’ve taken care of Megumi?”

You tilt your head, confused by the sudden question and still gasping for air.

“Like five?”

With a nod, he crawled back in the couch, lowering in between your thighs. His tongue sticking out and lapping at your sensitive cunt. Recollecting the mix of both your cums. You squirm and hiss, overstimulated.

“Four more and we’ll be even.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #jjk fic

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Would you be at the write a senario where Eddie and Roan spend a night with reader at their house? Maybe Roan's princess room reveal? 🙏🙏

yes!! love u!! I think this is like 3k ish but idk i wrote it in the app like an idiot <\3 ♡ fem!reader

Before the big move, you and Eddie are trying to ease Roan into her new home slowly. You'd worked hard on her room — more than hard. Nights spent covered in paint, other nights spent working overtime to afford the paint, the four poster bed, the big chest at the foot of it for her toys. You'd bought her a wardrobe, lots of new clothes to fill it, and a small mannequin outfitted in a pricey princess dress.

Eddie thinks you're going overboard, though he obviously loves you to death for the effort.

"You don't have to do all this," he'd said, lips to the back of your neck.

But you do. You'd never painted her nursery, never stocked up on diapers or formula or playsuits. You're bringing your girl home. Her room has to be perfect.

Tonight's the night.

You and Eddie stand outside of Roan's classroom. You're nervous enough to shake with it, hands wringing themselves sore.

"Relax," he says, worming a ringed-hand between them.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose and take a step closer to him, shoulder pressing to his shoulder, his proximity a balm.

The door opens, and Roan's teacher greets the surrounding parents with a smile. She starts to call the kids up one by one.

You peek around her arm and your eyes find Roan where she's sitting with her friend Stacey P. They have their heads bent together, and you can hear their excited babbling from where you stand.

"That's her next to your dad?" Stacey asks, eyes half covered by thin blonde bangs.

Roan beams proudly. "Yeah, that's my mommy."

"She's pretty."

"My daddy says she's go-jus."

You wave at her, wanting to kiss her forever and ever for being the sweetest, funniest baby girl in existence.

She waves back until her wrist looks like it might fall off.

"Roan," the teacher calls, "come on, chick."

Roan springs to her feet with her small backpack in hand. Her big puffer coat protects your legs as she slings herself at you and Eddie.

"Hey, babe. Are you excited?" he asks.

She lifts her head and smiles with her little teeth and her tiny appled cheeks, shorn curls falling away from her lovely big eyes. "Yes! Let's go!"

"Alright, hold your horses. I still have to talk to Mrs. Lundy," he says.

Eddie edges away from you. You tug Roan gently by the hand so you're out of the way of the other parents and then pop a squat to be at her eye level, fingers on automatic as you align her zipper and pull it closed.

"I'm really excited for you to see your room," you confide, because while you're extremely worried she'll hate it you're doubly excited that she'll love it. Princess pinks and all the trappings.

Roan doesn't even know what to say. It's obvious she's excited at having a new room too. Whenever she's stayed in the guest room in the past, it's simply been just that: the guest room. Now it's her bedroom, permanently, and she knows that it's double the size of her old one. She doesn't know you've redcoarated it completely, though. That's the secret.

"I hope you like it," you continue, rubbing your hands down the lengths of her coat before taking her warm fingers into your colder ones.

"I love it!" she declares.

"You haven't seen it yet," you say happily.

"I loved it already. Do I get to have Lucky in my room?"

You squeeze her hands. "I thought Lucky could stay in the living room. His tank is so big."

Roan thinks it over.

"He's your fish too now, babe, " you say firmly. "You can see him in the living room whenever you want, okay?"

"Okay," she says.

You stand up because your knees have started to ache and luckily Eddie's making his way back toward you. He takes Roan's empty hand and the two of you steer her out of the side door you'd come in through and into the playground, where a mass of other parents and kids are exiting their own classes.

"What'd she say?" you ask curiously.

Eddie can't hold in a smile. "Oh, you know, things."

"Things!" you repeat, frowning at him. Roan's hand swings enthusiastically in your own. You don't have any patience when it comes to the good stuff. "What kind of things?"

He tries not to say it and ultimately fails. "Our girl's literally Picasso. She wants to submit Roan's drawings for the Indiana young artists collection."

"What?"

"It's just for schools in Indiana, but if she gets accepted they put her picture in a book and they send us a copy."

"Will you swing me?" Roan asks loudly, tipping her head back to garner your attention.

You beam at her because she is literally the coolest child on the planet. "Depends, what does dad think?"

Eddie grins and readjusts his hold on her hand. You follow his lead, and soon you're both gearing up to lift her on the next swing.

"One, two, three," he counts.

Roan takes a little running jump and you and Eddie use her weight to swing her forward off of the curb and into the parking lot. She laughs with every new swing, and any worry about hurting her arms is quickly eaten up by her joy as you make your way to the car.

She climbs into the backseat with enthusiasm. Beside her carseat are a couple of boxes of her stuff, not too much. You want her to have the option to unpack but don't want her to go back to the trailer and find it empty. You and Eddie are doing everything you can to make this transition easy for her.

She sees all of it and gets confused.

"It's for Y/N's house," Eddie explains, pulling her car seat straps around her chest.

You bite back a correction. Our house, you want to say.

"For you room," you say instead.

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" Eddie asks.

She doesn't answer. It worries you. You chew at the inside of your cheek and turn to your purse in your lap instead, digging through it for the first of her presents, a fake key to the house. You're worried she'll lose it, although it's more ceremonial than anything. You have a real one for Eddie, not that he knows yet.

"I have something for you," you tell her, fist closed around the key.

Eddie shuts the driver's door and turns to peek at what you're doing, clearly curious. You open your hand and offer up the key.

"What's it for?" she asks.

"For the house."

You can feel Eddie's gaze on the side of your face. Roan takes the key and you turn to your boyfriend, plucking his own key from your bag and passing it to him with a smile. "S'your house. Need to be able to get in."

Eddie smiles at you. He's a soft looking guy, soft jaw, slightly high cheeks. He still hasn't settled about it being his house — he's thrilled, obviously, but you know he doesn't want to sound presumptuous or cheeky by accepting it.

Well, you don't care how it sounds. If they're going to live with you they need to know how welcome they are, and how much you want this to work as a family and not just as a boyfriend with his kid.

Eddie steals a kiss that you're not expecting, slightly too rough, extremely boyish. It's pretty great, as kisses go; you can feel his enthusiasm.

The ride to your house is funny. You've done it yourself hundreds of times, but it's suddenly not just your house. You've cleaned more than you've ever cleaned before in your life. You've changed decor to be less single girl and more family, brighter colours, rainbow kitchen utensils. You'd even got one of those plaques for your house outside with the number, and, perhaps embarassingly, a stick figure family engraved into the wood. A mom, a dad, and a girl. There's even a fish bowl for Lucky.

Eddie stops in front of it in awe.

Roan had insisted on you carrying her. If she hadn't you might've asked her to let you anyways.

"It's us," Roan says, following her dad's gaze.

"That's us," you agree. You nudge Eddie gently. "You gonna let us in?"

He's uncharacteristically quiet as he turns the key and let's you in.

You drop your bag in the hallway and you and Roan peek up the stairs. Rather than show her your redecorating, you've decided to save the best until last and walk her to the right toward the living room instead.

"I made space for your-" Is it hot in here? You're ten times as nervous as you had been now you're inside. "For your table. For the princess parties. All your toys. And..." You tuck her hair behind her ear and grin at her. "I usually feed Lucky when I come home. Do you want to feed him?"

Doesn't she just? Kids go crazy for stuff like this and Roan is no exception. You walk her across your rug where the coffee table used to be and pick up the fish food one handed, letting her take the lid off.

"Big pinch, okay?"

She nods and gets a big pinch of fish flakes. You direct her to the top of the glass and slide a panel aside so she can sprinkle it in, and then you bend swiftly so she can watch Lucky swim up from the bottom of the tank and nibble at his dinner.

Eddie stays standing in the doorway.

You look at him over your shoulder and he smiles rather weakly. "What happened to your coffee table?" he asks.

"I gave it away. Thought we'd need the space."

"You didn't have to."

You don't want to wait in agony, so you ask, "Eds, are you getting cold feet? Have you changed your mind?" Reality is sinking in and it's too much for him, and he really doesn't want to live here at all, and this was just a big, huge, awful mistake-

"I think this is the easiest decision I've ever made. I didn't- I wasn't expecting it to be this easy."

You gawp at him. "Easy for you, maybe. I'm exhausted."

You're seriously only kidding. You'd do all the work you've done lately a thousand times over if it meant you got to have this, Eddie looking at you like you're something worth looking at, adoring, infatuated, and his daughter in your arms babbling to her new pet fish.

"Sh-sugar," he says with a wince. "I know, babe, I swear. And I'm gonna make it upto you."

There's no point arguing with him when he gets like this. You smile coquettishly and raise your eyebrows instead. "Yeah? Like, a back massage?"

"A really long one."

"Foot massage?" you ask, though you don't actually want one.

It melts your heart how quickly he says, "Obviously."

"Can I see my room?" Roan asks, distraction waning as Lucky the fish finishes his food and swims back down into his underwater castle.

You wipe her fish-food covered fingers before she can rub it in her nice dress. "Mm, depends. Do I get a kiss for it first?"

With terrible aim, Roan agrees to a kiss and leans in, lips landing at the corner of your mouth. You giggle at her and pretend to think some more, "Hmm... I don't know, it's a pretty great room if I do say so myself. Think I might need a kiss on both cheeks."

"Dad, help me," Roan demands.

Both Munson's kiss either cheek.

Your stairs feel imposisbly tall. "Was I supposed to get a baby gate?"

"She's not a baby."

"Well," you say, holding her closer still as you climb up the last couple of steps, "s'debatable. She's a baby to me."

"She's a baby to me, too," Eddie agrees.

Roan's door is closed but easily discernible as hers. You'd had another plaque made, 'Princess Roan' written in pink bubbly letters with rhinestones and glitter.

"Did you make that?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah."

"You did not."

"No, I didn't."

Eddie snorts.

You set Roan down in front of her new room and cross your finger that this works. That she loves it.

She looks back hesitantly.

"Open it," Eddie prompts.

Dad's approval granted, Roan reaches up and twists the door knob. It opens with a resound click.

She gasps as she enters, eyes racing around the room to take it all in. The princess bed with four posters and sheer pink and white curtains with silky sheets, the heart shaped rug, the matching vanity and closet.

The Princess dress.

She toddles up to the end of the bed and runs her hand over the big wooden chest. You've made sure there's a stepping stool by the side of the bed in case she needed it, and sure enough she can't get onto the mattress without it. The puffy sheets depress under her body as she throws herself into a starfish.

It's alarmingly quiet for a moment, and then she giggles.

You smile and make a small sound of your own, arm instinctive wrapping around Eddie's. He pulls it out of your hold to wrap it around your shoulder, lips at the back of your head.

He kisses your hair. You barely feel it, elation hot and fast in your veins.

"It's like a princess bed!"

She doesn't stay in bed long, too excited to touch and feel everything. Her hands are childishly careful when she reaches the princess dress, a brilliant creation of fake silk and beads. Her squeal is genuinely the best sound in the whole wide world.

You'd been so wrapped up in Roan and her first night that you'd forgotten it was Eddie's, too.

Obviously, they've slept here before. Eddie alone when Roan's with Wayne, the both of them, he's stayed in your bed more times than you can remember, but now it's his bed and you've tried to make it feel like that with new pillows, a new bedspread that isn't so girly, and a new nightstand for the right side.

After dinner — Eddie's infamous pesto pasta with all the trimmings, a stodgy masterpiece — and bath time with new bath toys, you and your boy lie in bed together, silent.

Roan had stopped moving around ages ago. You'd put her to bed, kissed her forehead, said a cheesy but extremely necessary, "Welcome home," and Roan had held your hand until you'd pulled away, like she really didn't want to let go. She'd waited for you and Eddie to close your bedroom door before she'd gotten back up, and you'd listened to her explore her new room and laugh to herself for a brilliant half an hour.

Now she's grown quiet again, you're counting Eddie's heart beat under your ear. His hands mess with your hair, no rhyme or reason to his affectionate touching.

"Is the bedspread okay?" you whisper.

"It's perfect."

"What about the thermostat? Is it too hot?"

"Perfect."

"Do you want another pillow?"

Eddie's hand creeps down your head and spread over your shoulders. "Relax, sweetheart. It's all perfect." You can hear his smile, the hitch in his breath when he silently laughs. "I'll miss your sheets, I think."

"I kept them. We can just put 'em back on."

"I have a lot of good memories in those bad boys."

You pinch at his waist. "Idiot."

"Alright, come here."

You lift your head, inquisitive.

"C'mere," he prompts, catching under your arms.

He drags you upward until you're face to face. You hold your weight off of him, a hand woven carefully into his thick head of hair. He looks quite serious, almost impassive beside the traitorous quirk of his lips.

You put your hand on his cheek and stroke the line of his bottom lip with your thumb.

"You didn't have to do all of this. Everything. But you did, and it's perfect." He swallows and covers your hand with his. "Thank you."

Easy to lean down and kiss him. You wonder if he can taste your relief as your lips part, nose tips crushed together as you wade inward searchingly. His hand moves down to your wrist where his fingers curl and cling as you kiss harder, your lips tingling with a ticklish sort of pleasure. He tastes like the mint of his usual toothpaste and he smells faintly of aftershave, more of himself, an unexplainable smell. You inhale hard rather than pull away, reluctant to sever from him.

His hand roves down, up and down again, his touch leaving behind a blooming heat.

"I love you," you say, too close.

He nips at your lip and forces you back and away from him, lifting his chin to redirect any further kissing as he catches his breath.

"Fuck," he says with a chuckle, "you're fucking spoiling me. Everything's fucking perfect and now you're kissing me like that."

"I'm gonna wash your mouth out with soap," you warn with little heat, words sticky with happiness. You feel like you've just eaten a spoonful of honey. Your throat is thick with emotion.

"You're gonna kill me," he corrects. "Kiss me like that again."

"I'm not kissing you like anything if it'll kill you, Munson. Plan on keeping you for a long, long time."

He turns his face into your hand. His exhale is hot against your palm, worse when he readjusts. Unlike his heated mouthing moments ago, these kisses are sluggish. He sucks a small half moon into the fleshy base of your thumb.

"I love you," he mumbles.

He takes your hand into his again and rubs it up his freshly shaved cheek, the skin soft and smooth.

"I love you too. So much it's- it's sick."

"They should lock you up," he says agreeably.

You drop your face into the crook of his neck and let him cuddle you and tuck the sheets tight around your back. He doesn't complain when you kiss at his throat, not aiming for anything else but this, these kisses and his warm arms holding you close.

When Roan strolls into your bedroom the next morning with the worst bedhead he's ever seen and Teddy the one-eared bear hanging from her hand, Eddie watches your face pull into a huge smile, his hand already held in your lap. "I think you slept almost as good as I did, little lady," you greet, voice scratchy with sleep.

She grins at you both and beckons for Eddie to help her into bed with you both. "Best bed ever!" she says through a yawn. "Thanks, mom."

You burst into tears. Eddie's only surprised you hadn't done it sooner.

more eddie and roan

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

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naomikozura · 4 months

Text

Playing with Fire: Prologue

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, harassment, fraud, abandonment, bullying, mention of violence, poverty, mention of kidnapping (mentioned as a worry), (Let me know if I missed any!)

WC: 5.9K

Summary: Weak, poor, bottom of the barrel, that's all you'll ever be. Forced to live a life on the street only to be swept away and for some reason have the odds of meeting Gotham's most infamous Vigilante's sidekick.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Prologue

The nights this year had gotten colder than they had been the past few years. There had been something that went around Gotham the past few weeks, the sense of fear had risen the past few months, there hasn’t been anything you were more sure of. It seemed that crime rates had gone down this holiday season and that could probably be thanks to the amazing duo that was making more appearances as of late. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so safe in this horrid city.

The skyline seems to illuminate the city in a beautiful way, especially since the city seemed to die down so it was the only sign of life during the late hours of the night. You looked over the skyline and wondered if there could be a day you could afford to live in one of those beautiful buildings, to not move around from backyard to backyard or sneaking into hotels just to have a place to sleep at night.

It wasn’t easy being completely alone in a city like this, especially not as a 14 year old, it was absurd and dangerous. You had to find your own means to survive and more times than not, it was not the easiest thing to do. Staying up all night out of fear of being abducted, or spending afternoons going hungry, or not being able to sneak your clothes into the washers at the laundromat. You could find ways to keep up your appearances to make it seem like you weren’t at the absolute bottom of what was Gotham City, but in the end, that was exactly what you were.

Bottom of the barrel. A nobody.

You grabbed the small bag that was next to you and found your way to the door that led to the top of the building. Opening it, and going down the stairs, you managed to grab a key to one of the rooms in the hotel from the maids that were on the fifth floor. You had a way of perfecting the art of scamming your way into hotels so that you didn’t have to spend the night on the street or in someone’s backyard during the cold months of the year. Gotham seemed to bring in as much snow as New York does every year and being outside when the weather was at freezing level wasn’t something you were exactly looking forward to for the third year in a row.

You slid the key into the slot and pushed the door open. Setting down your belongings on the bed, you laid back and let out a breath, letting yourself relax in a way you hadn’t been able to in a long time. You grabbed the dirty clothes and put them into the small washing machine that was inside the unit and stripped down the current clothes you were wearing so you’d be able to shower. Having a limited wardrobe was nice, you never had to struggle on what to wear but also sucked since you wore the same exact thing every single day.

You let the warm water run down your body, your hair becoming damp from the stream that was hitting it. It felt nice to be able to shower and not worry about the cruelties happening outside for once, at least for tonight you could pretend you weren’t some street kid with no future.

The past three years were difficult for you. After you ran away from the orphanage, you found yourself on the streets of Gotham, fending for yourself and doing anything possible to just survive. You found ways to scam hotels by stealing key cards and sneaking into the hotel offices just to ‘access’ the system to book your room under someone rich in Gotham so that you couldn’t be caught sneaking in. It took about two years to truly perfect the art but it became muscle memory after a while. You hadn’t been caught since. Now, you had a flash drive you'd stolen that could connect to the computers and automatically do the work for you.

You felt the hot water burn on your skin in a satisfying way, something that seemed to be a luxury for you. It wasn’t often you could come in and be able to shower since your hotel scams could only be used so often to avoid being caught. You turned the water off and stepped out, you started drying your hair and decided to turn on the TV for a while, the first channel being the Gotham City News.

You turned the volume up and continued to dry your hair, taking your clothes and putting them in the dryer, only leaving you in your undergarments and a robe that was in the suite. The news rambled a lot over politics and the businessmen in Gotham but you could care less really, especially since the majority of the millionaires didn’t care about anyone beneath them, especially not people like you.

You heard the main reporter start bringing up the same headline, the masked vigilante in black and his perfect little sidekick. Your eyes looked back at the TV to see blurry photos of the two standing on a building, off guard, but it still felt posed. You felt a sort of resentment towards the two, but also an unexplainable trust in them. They helped keep Gotham safe, but you wondered if they truly cared about the little people in Gotham, like you or any other orphan.

You turned the TV off before getting into bed and falling asleep, hoping tomorrow would bring a new beginning to your seemingly repetitive life. You wish you could just disappear, never be seen again. Get on a plane and just disappear.

For now, the thought can only be alive in your head, hoping one day it could become a reality for you.

The streets buzzed with life, businessmen taking their morning commutes to the downtown estates and taxis flooding the streets causing traffic for all the early morning people. It wasn’t rare to see people rushing to get to work and finish out the week before going off to their second lives on the streets and nightclubs in Gotham. Businessmen in speakeasies cheating on their wives, city officials betting money on illegal races or gambling with their lives for an adrenaline high. That was all this city was built on, the rush, the gamble of life. People cared too much about money, power, drugs, sex, and getting to be as secular as possible. The gamble was worth it all in the end.

It wasn’t a secret to those on the streets that these people were in connections with the powerful drug lords in Gotham. The only people who seemed to turn a blind eye were the actual people who could maintain a regular schedule, no one below them could give a fuck about what truly happened during Gotham’s day to day, it was at night that everything would come out. Skeletons would be pushed into the open, the ghosts of the past, strenuous addictions, and life ending secrets. The night life of Gotham would bring out even the toughest of peoples’ true selves.

You walked down the street down to downtown, hoping to find some new clothes at a small shop that was decently cheap for Gotham’s standards. You couldn’t stand the swarms of people that came and went, pretentious high profile rats who dressed in fancy clothes to put up an act for the outside world. You were sick of dealing with people who acted like they were better than everyone. You wish you could meet a normal person, just one.

You walked past some of the buildings and made it to the center of downtown and walked by a group of people who were leaning on the walls by the alley, reeking of cigarette smoke, who decided today would be the day to test your patience.

“Hey, little girl, wanna give us a smile?”, one of the gross looking men said.

They wore suits and had their hair nicely done, just another typical businessman in this wretched city. You kept walking, hoping they would leave you alone.

“Hey, don’t you hear us talking to you?”, another one barked out, grabbing your arm and turning you around.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.”, you bit back.

Although you lived on the streets, you always managed to find ways to keep up with your personal hygiene. Scamming hotels was the only way that was possible, and you knew your appearance would attract attention. You knew you caught men's attention, you were a young female living in a city full of pretentious, uptight, privileged people.

“Oh, come on, loosen up sweetheart. We just wanna see that beautiful smile”

“And I said, get your filthy fucking hand off of me!”, you pulled your hand, hoping to get it out of his grip. You weren’t strong, you were intelligent, sly but physically strong enough to fight a guy twice your size and age was a whole other story.

“Stop being such a bitch, you aren’t pretty enough to be talking to us that way, cunt.”, the guy grabbing you said, the shit you had to deal with was revolting.

Your heart was beating in your chest, you hadn’t ever been grabbed like this before, you didn’t know exactly how to react to this situation other than trying to come off as rude as possible. You knew there wasn’t a way to get out of this situation other than hoping you had enough energy to run for your life.

You pulled your arm back, quickly, punching the guy in the nose, ducking under the other two guys’ arms and running out of the alley they pulled you into. You heard them yell and try to go after you. You didn’t look back and kept running, crossing the street and hearing the passing taxis honking and cursing at you. You bumped into people but kept going until you made it to the other side of the city. Your lungs were burning in your chest, you had ran for 20 minutes without stopping and you felt exhausted.

You looked up and noticed you found your way to one of the schools in the area. You saw the engraving on the stone plate outside, Gotham Academy.

You saw the students inside socializing, a tug in your chest, wishing you could have a normal life like that. They had rich parents, everything they could ever ask for, and yet, that was something you could never have. You tried catching your breath and you heard a voice next to you.

You turned around and looked at the courtyard. A guy, who was a bit taller than you, held out a water bottle.

“Need some water?”, you stared at him, unsure if you should accept the offer. Your trust issues seemed to always win over the internal debate between who to trust and who to avoid.

“No.” you said sharply.

“You just seem out of breath, so I figured it might help.”, he continued.

You looked at him, then down at the bottle. You ignored him and picked your bag off the floor, and started to walk away.

“Hey!” you heard him yell, couldn’t he just leave it?

“I said no”, you turned around and were met with his chest. You looked up slightly, his eyes looking into yours, green eyes, to be exact.

“No, that’s fine, but uh, you have a bruise on your arm.”, you looked at the evident bruise, you pulled your sleeve down to try and cover it and found yourself growing self-conscious.

“It'll heal.”, you answered lamely.

You turned and kept walking, ignoring the boy who, for some reason, found you pitiful enough to try and give you charity. You weren’t a charity case and you refused to let some pretentious, rich pretty boy try and help you. Your dignity refused to let you.

You couldn’t help but feel like the whole world was out to get you. Maybe it was trauma, maybe it was distrust, regardless you wanted to rely on no one and be your own person.

You decided the path of isolation a long time ago, and there would not be anything to stop you.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, you got caught at one of the hotels by the staff and decided to make a run for it but ended up getting tackled by one of the cops that had been on duty resulting in a bloody nose and a sprained ankle. They had called the GCPD to come in to take you to the precinct since you were a minor. You were asked some questions and were enrolled into a foster care program.

You felt a kick in your stomach, going to a pity family was the last thing you wanted, but you figured you could benefit from it. You spent the majority of the past three months in the foster shelter, later, a high class family took you in, claiming they wanted to help you, but you knew this would all be to make themselves look good in front of the other elite families in Gotham.

You were taken in a limousine, a black vehicle that would be worth twenty times anything you could ever dreamed of owning. The couple showed you to your room inside the manor, the family butler placing a new change of clothing and a robe on the bed.

You couldn’t help but feel anger dwelling inside of you, or the spitefulness of having someone take you in just to give themselves a charitable outlook. You would be known as the street orphan who got adopted by the rich and noble elite in hopes to provide a better life for them. It was pitiful, it was aggravating. You despised it.

Even so, you stayed. You stayed and prepared for the day you could leave this place. Training to keep your strength, using the technology to polish your intellect, preparing for every scenario. You always left a bag packed under the bed, a change of clothes ready and enough money to help you get food at any restaurant for a week.

It was more than enough for you to get out of Gotham and find a way to change your life entirely.

Nothing seemed to be more romanticized in your head than jumping on that plane and flying away to another part of the world and forgetting the cards of life you had been dealt.

Even so, you knew that leaving while being underage would be the most difficult part. You had no passport, barely enough money to start a new life somewhere else. All the possibilities came down to long term thoughts, though you only had short term solutions.

Your dreams of flying across the world would have to be postponed until you were more able, more of age, and more financially stable to pursue the dreams of flying to the ends of the earth to escape the wretched place you knew as home.

The goal was to leave this life, to leave Gotham.

Freedom from poverty, from abuse, from everything.

Even after you tried to escape reality, you heard the loud bell inside the academy ringing out, signaling time for classes to end. You grabbed your bag full of books and brushed the hair out of your face. You walked through the halls, trying to reach the exit doors and head home. You hated that your… ‘parents’ enrolled you into such a revolting school. A private academy with only the elite children of Gotham that were set up for success and nothing to worry about other than getting their trust funds once their parent’s retired.

You pushed through the doors and headed down the steps before you heard a group of girls sitting on the bench stare at you and start laughing.

“Is that…. Is that her?”

“Yeah, I heard that they took her off the streets after she got arrested”

“Who let a person like that into the academy? Have we started going downhill?”

Your eyes twitched at the comments of the people around you. You just so happened to be enrolled into the academy half way through the school year, so keeping a low profile would not be the easiest thing since you were the talk of the halls as the ‘new girl’. You had only been going to the academy for a few weeks, but trouble still found its way to you regardless of never talking to anyone.

You hated Gotham's elite, but hated their pretentious children even more.

You kept walking, but suddenly felt yourself losing your balance and falling to the ground. Your bag fell with you and you heard snide laughter off to the side. You lifted your head and turned behind you, looking up at a tall, blonde haired guy that had one of the girls from earlier standing next to him.

“Looks like you still enjoy picking trash off the ground, streetrat.”, he commented. The girl, presumably his girlfriend, laughed before pointing at you and your disheveled state.

I swear if they don’t leave me alone I will break her nose.

You quietly ignored them and stood up, ignoring the comments they were making, it was better for you to just walk away.

You brushed yourself off then felt a hand grab your arm, “Hey, I’m talking to you, street rat”, you heard the guy’s deep voice call to you.

You turned around, your fist already made, but not before you felt another hand weigh down your arm. You turned around and saw another guy, taller than you but shorter than the first guy that had grabbed you. He looked like he was glaring down the instigator.

“Now, let’s calm down, yeah?”, he said deeply. His eyes intently squinted hoping that the other guy would let you be. Who the hell was this guy and why is he trying to interfere in something that doesn’t include him. You felt a sort of annoyance growing inside of you, but before you could speak up, the taller guy backed away, telling his girlfriend to go with him.

“You’re lucky I don’t have time to waste on charity cases, Todd.”, and with that he left.

You wanted to punch the guy in the face and break his nose so badly but felt the anger leave you when Todd turned to say something to you. “Sorry about that, you okay? It looks like your arm might bruise up”, you looked at him and turned to grab your bag and started to walk away.

“Hey!”, he yelled after you, catching up to your speedy form. “You’re walking away again?”

Again? What did he mean by again? You turned around and met him eye to eye.

“Who are you? What do you want?”, you asked him with a sting in your tone. He looked at you with surprised eyes.

“I remember you, from a few months ago. I offered you water.”

You stared at him, confusion setting in, but you also replayed that memory in your head. Those green eyes weren’t something to just forget, you remembered how nice they looked the first time you saw them. Regardless, he wasn’t relevant enough to you to entertain the conversation any more.

“No, sorry. I think you got the wrong person.”

You said quickly before going off, ignoring the boy who just helped you from attracting more trouble. You were sure he was probably nice, but your lack of trust in others overcame any sense of truth that you could face in becoming friends or even acquaintances with anyone.

Never trust the elite.

The night was cold, it wasn't winter anymore, but the spring hadn’t settled in entirely so the crisp air of the night would entangle you in a cold front that almost seemed too much to manage while you sat on the roof of the building. You managed to sneak out after the family had gone to sleep. You were wearing a sweater and a pair of black pants.

You overlooked the city and hated the fact that there was so much happening down in the streets, it was dangerous for you to be out in the city this late but now that you had money, well the family’s money, you could afford a small bottle of pepper spray. You had your legs up to your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees and your chin resting on them. You tried to relax against the cold, but it found itself harder to do with each minute.

“It’s a bit chilly to be out here isn’t it?”

Your heart stopped in your chest and you turned around to look at who was speaking behind you, one hand in your pocket, ready to use the pepper spray if need be. You saw the person behind the voice step forward.

Tall, muscular, black domino mask on with the signature red and green suit, the yellow ‘R’ evident on his chest. He had dark hair and his physique made him appear a bit older but still seemed like he would be close to your age for sure.

“Shouldn’t you be with the Batman or did you finally get granted privileges?”, you muttered sarcastically.

“That’s funny, but I do go solo sometimes, get a feel of the streets.”, he walked over and stood next to where you were sitting. You felt him sit down with his legs hanging off the ledge of the building. “What are you doing up here? Don’t you have a curfew?”

“I snuck out. Don’t necessarily care what the family tells me.”, you answered him flatly, trying to get out of the conversation as fast as possible.

“I see, well, I’m Robin, what’s your name?”, this guy seemed way too talkative and it kind of bothered you. You just wanted to sit here in silence and this little sidekick had to come up and try to be your friend.

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”, you mentally begged him to say yes, wanting to be alone.

“Depends”

You glared at him, “Depends on what?”, you asked rudely.

“Depends on how this conversation goes.”

“(Y/n).”, you said through clenched teeth, your jaw tightening in annoyance.

He smiled at you before looking back over the city. “That’s a nice name”. He said before he pulled out a small bag. He handed it to you and you looked at it before meeting his eyes again.

“It’s a hand warmer”, you stared for a few seconds, examining the small bag before grabbing it from him and giving a small thank you. The both of you sat in silence, but for some odd reason, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It felt normal, neutral, and calm.

“Why are you up here alone?”, his voice almost seemed like a whisper, before you turned your head looking at him, your hair blowing in your face. “It helps me escape.”. He looked at you, not saying anything while you continued.

“I don't have to think about the world down there, I can just escape reality for a while.”, you felt him looking at you as your eyes scanned the silent city below, hearing a few loud noises every few seconds. “This city hasn’t been kind to me, so being up here lets me escape that I live in this shithole.”

“Would you leave if you could?”, he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I would. If I could hop on a plane and disappear from this city forever I would do it in a heartbeat.”, you felt as though you answered too quickly, but you found happiness in your answer. "The goal has always been to leave."

“Yeah, me too.”

You looked at him and there was something that seemed to flood the air, and right when the moment seemed too perfect to be ruined, you heard a small radio signal. It was probably his cue to leave.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”, he apologized and you just smiled at him, waving a small goodbye. He went to jump off the building before he turned back to you and smiled. “I hope we can meet again soon, (Y/n).”.

And just like that, he was gone. A part of you was glad he was, but another strange part had hoped he could stay a little longer. For the first time since your first days in this city, you felt normal and at peace with having a conversation with someone.

You felt like there was normalcy to your life.

The next few weeks passed the exact same way, you would go to the rooftops, and almost like it was planned, the miraculous boy wonder would show up to converse and joke around. You were still cold towards him, not opening up or saying too much the first few times but after a week or two, you slowly started to open up. He helped give you a sense of peace in your life, you could slowly start trusting him. He would sometimes bring you things and would tell you about all the things he wished he could do once he was old enough to do them.

You both made a pact to pack everything once you were both old enough and leave Gotham for good. Thinking of all the places in the world to visit and being able to go out and see better parts of the world.

The both of you had grown to like each other a lot and create a sort of friendship that was unconventional, but exciting. You had similar interests, same humor, and both equally sarcastic and smartasses.

There was one night when the two of you were talking about how you both grew up. He told you how he lived on the streets and that he got taken in by Batman when he tried stealing the wheels off the Batmobile when he was 12. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing because who in their right mind would steal from Batman?

It was a nice story to laugh over and he told you about his training and how he got lucky to be able to get taken in by someone who genuinely wanted to help him. Your heart softened at his comment because it made you think about the couple who adopted you. You resented them but they had been nothing but good to you, they provided for you and because of them you had food to eat every night, new clothing, got an education, and yet your traumatized heart refused to trust them. Yet, here you were with a stranger you had only met about three months ago and already trusting them more than the people who took you off the streets.

It didn’t make sense but you tried to make it make sense in your head. You let him in on your life on the streets and you didn’t even know what he looked like, let alone his real name. There was comfort in the mystery for you, so it progressed into something more for you, wondering if the same had happened to him.

The two of you stood on the ledge of the building, you heard him mess with something in his belt and extend his hand out to you. You took it and he grabbed his grappling hook before grabbing you tightly, due to his training, you were light enough for him to carry. The wind blew in your face and your heart was pounding through your chest, the adrenaline flooding your body. He laughed out into the night and you followed. He used his feet to crash through the window of an old building and rolled to where you landed on top of him.

You looked down at him, trying to catch your breath, smiling and laughing along with him. You felt him raise his hand up and push your hair behind your ear, your smile still evident on your lips. He smiled back at you, and leaned himself up, the hot air filling the room and in a moment, you felt your whole world come to a stop. He had leaned into you, kissing your lips, and you pressed into him. Your first kiss being shared with a stranger, but was he really? You could consider him a friend now, maybe even more than that if he’d let you.

You both pulled apart and he smiled at you.

Yeah, there was something there.

The nights continued, for months and they were never boring but filled with laughs and stolen kisses. It made you happy. He spent your 15th birthday with you, bought you a small gift, a necklace with a green stone, he said the color reminded him of you and it brought out the color in your (e/c) eyes. There was one night in particular that was forever engraved into your heart. Robin had come back to the rooftop, you sitting by the ledge waiting for him.

“(Y/n), I have to tell you something.”, he seemed frantic, like he was nervous about something. You felt your heart start beating faster, expecting the absolute worst. “W-what is it?”

“I know that we.. we’ve been..seeing each other, and I know you feel the same things that I do.”, your heart couldn’t stop pounding, you were sure he could hear it. “I want to tell you who I am, beneath the mask, beneath the Robin suit. I want us to be able to go out together. I just need to do something else first.”, Your heart seemed to stop. He wanted to tell you his identity? He wanted to be serious with you, take it further. You silently nodded, not knowing what to say at that moment.

“I’ll be gone for a few days, so don’t think I’m abandoning you. It shouldn’t be more than a week, but I promise, when I come back, we’ll get a real date. You’ll know me as… me. I promise, wait for me.”, you looked at him and nodded, your heart filling with content at his words.

He grabbed your face and kissed you and you kissed back.

The moment couldn’t be more perfect than this.

You waited like you promised. You let a week pass by before you started going back to the rooftop again. You would go every night hoping that he would be back from his trip, not exactly knowing when he would be back. The first night passed and he didn’t show up. Then the second, and still a no show.

You were convinced he got held up, maybe his trip was longer than a week and he just got confused.

The third night, then the fourth, fifth, sixth, tenth, a month. 2 months. 3 months. Nothing.

Your heart felt broken, he had promised he would come back.

Why wasn’t he coming?

Did his trip get delayed?

Did something happen?

Why wasn’t he here?

Once it got down to six months, you stopped going back to the roof. On the last day, you stood on the ledge, staring down at the city below you, your mind in shambles wondering where he was. He left. He said he'd come back but he hasn't.

Was this the consequence of trusting him?

Did he realize he didn't want to be around you anymore?

You closed your eyes, lifting a hand to grasp the necklace he'd given you, your chest heavy as you felt the tears pour down your cheeks. Was this the world's cruel way of telling you you'd never get anything good in your life?

Your heart and your trust were completely broken, all because you trusted someone who never came back.

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mtkay13 · 10 months

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The one and only Qi Ye trio!

Details on the painting, meta and more below!

So this piece is actually a "remake" of a much older drawing that I made right after I had finished reading Qi Ye:

First, I want to elaborate on the drawing itself. I usually don't like to detail the symbolism and ideas that I put in my art, simply because I don't want to impose a reading and I'd rather everyone gets their own; but following some discussions I have decided to do so for this one.

The main theme of this illustration is glory, power, and the ascention towards it. The principal symbol of it is, of course, the stairs going up. I used light, directly, colours and positioning to signify each character's relationship to those themes.

Helian Yi is the one in the light, ascending upwards, in red clothing. Helian Yi's power, as future emperor, is in the light, visible, going towards the heavens as the son of heaven himself--to enact his heavenly duty. Part of his face is in the shadows, and his being casts a broad shadow behind him for, of course, a lot has to happen in the shadows for him to reach the throne. He's looking behind as his ascension comes with dread and paranoia, never being able to fully trust anyone.

Zhou Zishu is entirely in the shadows, doesn't exist in the light. He's standing tall on the stairs but not facing upwards because his own way towards power isn't following the traditional path of having one's name being remembered in historical records. He is at his most powerful concealed in the shadows and doesn't look directly, his gaze unreadable.

Jing Beiyuan is sitting on the stairs, uninterested with the climb towards power itself, uninterested in the glory. The thin line of light on his figure means that among Helian Yi's closest allies, he's the one using his title and influence; light grazes him even if he doesn't want it to. His presence in Helian Yi's shadow signifies how he, along with Zishu, is quite literally behind HLY's ascension. His gaze is knowingly directed towards the watcher.

The main reason I decided to repaint it was because I wanted it to match my current style and, more importantly, my current mental image/character design for them. Jing Qi barely changed since my idea of him was fairly clear from the start, but Helian Yi and Zishu went through much bigger changes.

For Helian Yi, it was mainly a question from taking him out of Jin Wang's robes to get him his own. I really like Jin Wang's wardrobe in SHL, which is why I initially wanted it for HLY, but nowadays it simply doesn't correspond to how I picture him anymore. My understanding and/or envisioning of Da Qing's fashion has changed a bit as well, so I wanted to reflect that. In the original, he more seemed like a kid in vaguely chique robes that were too big for him LOL. His face was afforded a bit of refinement as well, especially since my big Qi Ye spread.

Jing Qi's robes are just a tad less flashy somehow--which wasn't so much planned as just... another design I had in mind. I still really like the first version of the robes but, oh well. His face is a bit more defined now, and overall more details in the quality of his clothing and in his hair piece.

Zhou Zishu...... well, haha. His original design was quite unpolished--a vague mix of SHL!Zishu and some random hakama I barely worked on. He was also very slim and had big eyes, which I just don't see anymore. He's bigger now, by quite a bit, both in height and musculature, and I made him look just a bit older as well--simply because he is older than HLY and JBY by a few years. I much prefer his current expression which is a tad more vicious but also a bit harder to read (I think). His robes, hair shape are much better defined and thought-out, and I am happy with the subtle shading on his face.

That's it!! Thanks for readiinngggg as always!

#qi ye meta #qi ye #helian yi #jing beiyuan #zhou zishu

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xanderisbraindead · 11 months

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I see people that are tryna get into emo and scene fashion make posts ab like needing help finding clothes or like styling their hair n the liek so I’m here to help. Who am I? Nobody but im like scenemo and very happy to help. Im gonna make a resource masterlist, starting with this post

It’s important to note that if you have the hair, anything you wear will look emo. Emo teens would really just wear just some normal clothing and it fucked! Keep that in mind

How do I find emo/scene clothes?

🇺🇸🇬🇧Check resale sites like depop, ebay, mercari, poshmark (mercari is not available in the uk). You CANNOT build a wardrobe overnight. You just cant. Be patient and just keep checking, I promise you will find something. Heres some things I’ve personally bought or found on these sites and the price usd just for reference (without shipping)// Beetlejuice striped ht skinnies $16.49// We the kings shirt $5.50// All time low shirt $5.50//Red plaid ht skinnies $10.50// Famous star and stripe shirt $5-10// Secondhand serenade shirt $10// A lot of fellow scene and emo ppl resell on these sites!! (Trashmob has a depop for example, so does oliver sykes???)

2-Thrifting. Ik you’re probably tired of hearing it bc duh but… =) Try some local thrifts, big companies either suck, are expensive or both. I’d buy my skinnies from here. Reminder that they don’t have to be black!! You can style black, white, blue, any color of jean. Even styles like flair or bootcut jeans.

🇺🇸HT REPLAY. NOBODY TALKS AB THIS. Hot topic has a thredup, they sell preloved clothing and its constantly updated. Its very discounted. For example a shirt that was initially $25 usd would be sold for $11-9 usd. This is as far as ik only in the us??

Diy, obv. Look at those. Aren’t they cool looking? Not being able to afford band merch doesn’t make you any less of a fan than ppl with huge collections, remember that.

🇺🇸🇬🇧Dont be afraid to check normal stores like target, tk maxx, and walmart, you’ll be surprised. Target has cute character jackets if you can fit kids sizes and walmart made that skeleton sweater vest they gotta have more up their sleeves.

🇺🇸Merchnow.com. They have HEAVENLY old band merch and posters. Like ptv, chiodos, sws, tdwp, coheed and cambria, before today, texas in july, even like icp. this might be a us only thing? If someone could check for me ilys

(Added on Nov 8 23)

🇬🇧Grindstore.com they’re like merchnow kinda, heavenly band merch

(Added April 29 24)

🇺🇸🇬🇧 Childrens clothes if you can fit into them a lot of childrens clothing are very good for a scene look

This is all I have for now, but if i come up with anything else I’ll definitely update this!!

#my post #emo #rawring 20s #emo revival #rawring twenties #emo boy #emo kid #scenemo #emo fashion #scene fashion #scemo #alt fashion #alternative fashion #2000s fashion #2000s scene

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veeluvss · 2 months

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I loved your JJ x autistic daughter fics, and it got me wondering what Emily Prentiss would be like with an autistic daughter. I love your writing, and was wondering if you would consider writing one like this? Thanks!

Hii! Thank you for your ask, here is Emily with an autistic daughter :)

Listening

Monday morning came around quicker than the Prentiss duo wanted it to. Having had the weekend off, Emily was feeling refreshed and ready for another working week. She was ready to see her team again and hoped they felt as refreshed as she did. However, she didn’t want her weekend to end. She’d had a lovely weekend with her daughter. They’d gone to the aquarium as it was their favourite place. They’d both done their homework in their office, they’d had two movie nights and a whole movie day on Sunday. They just spent as much time together as possible. It was rare they both had a free weekend so it was nice to hang out together.

Miley was still in bed, not wanting to go to school whatsoever. She hated it at the moment. She hated school in general, ever since she could remember. But Emily didn’t like her to stay home alone and be homeschooled whilst she worked and boarding school could never be an option. She was in a private school, which meant Emily didn’t like Miley missing days or even classes because it was expensive. Being the way she was, Miley didn’t have many friends. She struggled to interact with people and hold conversations for long periods of time. People thought she was weird because she never looked at them whilst she was talking. On top of that, she was super smart, smarter than the rest of the kids in her class. Like Spencer Reid, her uncle, she had an eidetic memory. She could revise so easily and retain information with a blink. She was in the year above the normal at school which meant she was a year younger than her classmates. Which made it even harder for her to make friends. And today, her best friend Daisy, wasn’t in. Daisy was Miley’s rock. She was older but she took Miley under her wing and they did everything together. Daisy was often at the Prentiss household with having such a busy household herself. However, Daisy was on a field trip with her geography class and Miley wasn’t chosen to go which meant a whole day without her other half. She couldn’t face it alone, not the bullies.

“Miles, come on it’s nearly 8,” Emily said, entering her daughter’s room. “I’m not going,” Miley said, matter of factly. “Oh yes you are, come on, up.” Emily pulled the covers off her daughter’s head and walked to open the curtains. “No, I’m not.” “Yes, you are, Miley. School is non-negotiable.” Emily was strict in her voice. She was adamant on Miley going to school, on top of that, she hated leaving her home alone and she couldn’t take her into the office with her today as they had a big staff meeting. “Hurry up or I’m going to be late for work,” Emily said as she left the room. Miley groaned loudly and pulled the cover back up over her head. She couldn’t sleep anymore but she did not want to go in. If she wasn’t ready, her mum couldn’t force her.

“Young lady if you’re not out of bed, I’m going to be very upset,” Emily said as she came back down the hallway. “It’s 7.55 and you’re not even dressed. What is going on?” “I told you, I’m not going in.” “And I’ve told you, school is non-negotiable.” “But Daisy isn’t in. I’ll be alone.”

Emily sighed, she knew how important Daisy was to Miley’s school life but that really was no excuse to miss a whole day of learning. Deep down, she knew her girl was clever enough to miss a day here or there, she knew she’d catch up easily. But at the same time, she had to put her foot down. Daisy wasn’t going to be there for Miley every day of her life in the future and with college coming up, they couldn’t afford to be as attached as they still were. “You can survive one day without Daisy,” Emily said, her tone softening. She walked to her daughter’s wardrobe and pulled out an outfit. A cute skirt and sweater as now it had got colder.

“No. I can’t,” Miley groaned from under the covers. The idea of the bullies terrified her. As soon as they saw her alone today, they were going to attack her - she could feel it. “And why can’t you?” Emily sat on the side of the bed and pulled down the covers to see her daughter’s face. She needed to have a conversation about it because there was clearly something else bothering Miley. Miley paused. She couldn’t tell her mum about the bullies because then she’d march straight into the school, attempt to do something about it and it would fail and then the bullying would only get worse. “Come on, spit it out,” Emily said. “I just can’t,” Miley said and rolled over so she didn’t have to look at her mum. “Miley,” Emily sighed. “Come on, kiddo. I know there’s something going on.” “There’s nothing going on.” Miley hated lying to her mum but she knew she would try and help and only make it worse. “Is it the bullies again?” Emily asked, her voice gentle and understanding. Miley didn’t respond. She couldn’t say no now, not now she’d got it right. “How long has it been going on for?” Emily followed up her question, taking the no response as a response. “Daisy makes it better,” Miley managed to squeak out between her growing tears. She didn’t want to cry, she was an overly emotional person. She sniffed and Emily sighed quietly. “I know she does but she won’t be there forever.” “She will,” Miley replied, trying to keep her voice strong. Emily wasn’t an emotional person so having an emotional daughter made things difficult for her. She accommodated Miley’s needs when she needed to, she was a good mum in that sense but when she started crying out of nowhere, it made it hard for Emily to respond. She knew she needed a cuddle.

Slowly, Emily laid down on the bed behind Miley and wrapped an arm around her torso. Miley quickly rolled over and cuddled herself into her mum. She knew her mum often didn’t know what to say when she was crying so silence and hugs helped.

Once her tears subsided, Emily pulled back and brushed some wet, black hair from Miley’s face. “It’ll be okay. Do you want me to come in and speak to your teachers?” Emily asked. “Please, no,” Miley replied and began playing with her mum’s hair. The time was 8.15 and if Emily didn't’ leave now, she’d be late. She sighed and nodded. “How about you come with me today?” Emily asked. Miley, taken aback at the suggestion, looked up at Emily with shock. “But you said -” “I know what I said but clearly this is impacting you more than I realised. We have to put your mental health and wellbeing above a bit of school,” Emily explained. “But what about the money?” “Forget about the money, sweetheart. That’s my worry not yours. Plus, it’s one day. Daisy will be back to school tomorrow and so will you,” Emily said. Miley felt weight lift off her shoulders and she smiled widely, pulling her mum into a hug. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered. “I’ll always listen to you, you just have to talk to me,” Emily replied. “Now get dressed, I’ve got a meeting at 9 I can't be late for.”

The team loved having Miley, their little helper around for the day and Miley loved it too. She loved all of the BAU family, especially JJ and Penelope. They’d known her the longest and they all got along so well. She loved that her mum had listened to her and understood her needs for the day. She loved her mum, her very own Unit Chief.

#emily prentiss #emily #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss head canons #emily prentiss imagine #emily prenitss x daughter #emily prenitss!mom #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds #autism #autistic!daughter #emily prentiss x autistic!daughter

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apomaro-mellow · 6 months

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King and Prince 15

Part 14

We have officially begun the second arc of this fic! Arc 1: Enemies Arc 2: Friends? ....Friends.... (<- You are here!) Arc 3: Lovers

The day before the festivities, Eddie was constantly on his feet and on the move. He had barely a moment to himself. But as the sun set, he took a second to check in on his favorite hostage-turned-guest. But Eddie never did these checks in person. Now seemed to be the time to give Steve as much space as he could. Eddie didn’t know in detail what kind of life he led in his old kingdom, but it couldn’t be anything good. A crown prince should be fighting tooth and nail to get back home. Steve hadn’t made any escape attempts since that last one weeks ago.

Eddie stood by the window of his room and held a hand out to beckon the raven that landed. He stroked its feathers in thanks for letting him see Steve. His eyes became the bird’s eyes whenever he wished, allowing him to see how Steve behaved while he was alone. He never intruded for long, but Eddie wasn’t going to fall to a soft heart and let someone untrustworthy roam without suspicion.

His precaution was starting to appear unnecessary in the end. Because Steve had no plans to harm anyone, not even him. As much as he and Dustin had prodded at the prince to see further than his own nose and learn about what was around him, Eddie had to admit that he too had his own assumptions about him.

He hadn’t imagined the enemy to be an uncontrollable monster like the other side did. But Eddie hadn’t expected someone willingly lending a hand to some kids, who did manual labor with very minimal grumbling. He hadn’t expected Steve to be, well, nice. He might be the first Harrington who Eddie hadn’t wanted to kill on sight.

One thing his little feathered friend reminded him of was the fact that Steve’s wardrobe was severely cut down from what he must be used to. There was certainly a drop of quality as well, though it was comfortable to wear. And Eddie thought he shouldn’t be left out of the fun when it came to new clothes.

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

The next morning, Steve rose with the sun and had breakfast with the children in the kitchen. Afterwards, he figured his job for the day would be helping out wherever he was needed for the activities around the castle. But when he caught Robin in the hallway, she shook her head at him.

“I don’t have you today. You belong to those kids there”, she pointed to the gaggle catching up from behind.

“Them?”, Steve asked. “But they’re going to-” Their plans all involved the action happening in the town just outside the castle gates. A town filled with this kingdom’s people. People who might want to see Steve’s end, if they knew who he was.

Robin just waved with her fingers as Dustin and El grabbed both of his arms and started to pull him towards the main entrance of the castle. Outside, a wagon was already hitched up to a horse, driver at the ready to take them out. Steve tried to keep the apprehension off his face as he watched the kids get on, then followed after. Obviously the townsfolk couldn’t tell who he was just by looking at him. Even so, what if someone let something slip and the wrong thing was overheard?

His charges were unaware, still talking about all the things to do once they were there. They were already dressed in their new finery, surely with a warning not to get them too dirty before the performance. Steve tried not to feel too disappointed by his own clothing. He didn’t need any eyes drawn to him.

“We’re going to the games first”, Lucas said.

“Who said you’re in charge?”, Max challenged.

“I thought we agreed we should see the market first”, Will said.

“I agree that we should go before they run out of strawberries”, Dustin started. “But we can afford some time to go and see the mechanists first.”

Steve was suddenly struck with why he was put on supervising duty. Without an adult, they’d surely run off in a dozen different directions. They were let out right in the thick of it and Steve was overwhelmed but only for a moment as he clapped his hands and called them to attention.

“Hey. Hey! If one of you gets lost or hurt, that’s my neck on the chopping block!” Steve didn’t want to think of how literal that might be. “I’ll decide where we go and when and I swear to the old gods and new if I hear any griping, you can hop right back on the wagon.”

There was definitely some eye rolling. And the start of groans. And crossed arms. But no one directly opposed him. That left Steve to make a decision. He put his hands on his hips, looking at them one by one as they gazed back expectantly.

“So here’s what we’re going to do”, he began. “You all just ate. We don’t need to go and get berries right now. I promise we’ll go before they run out. It makes the most sense to do the games first. You guys are bouncing off the walls and need something to direct all that energy.”

After which, they’d be in a mood for some kind of refreshing pick-me-up, like freshly picked fruit. And maybe even some kind of meal before seeing what else the people of this town had to offer. His plan was met with minimal protests and for a moment Steve got the idea that they might actually like and respect him. There were games for both young and old, separated by skill level.

Lucas decided to try his hand at archery and Steve felt a twinge of pride, especially when he got a near bullseye on the first try. The next few weren’t as great but he hoped Lucas would remember that first near-win. If nothing else, he might remember the impressed look on Max’s face before she wiped it away, glancing around to make sure no one else saw. Even though the others typically weren’t so swayed by feats of athleticism, they congratulated Lucas.

“You almost got it in!”, Will exclaimed.

“Think of the potential. With an archer, we could be unstoppable!”, Dustin said.

Steve didn’t want to think about what sort of potential they were imagining. He’d thought he’d just follow them around and make sure they didn’t get kidnapped but was thrown off when they dragged him to a different field where there were older competitors.

“I think it’s time you show us what you got”, Mike said, arms crossed.

“What?”

“You talk a big game, but no one’s actually seen you do anything serious”, Max said.

“Lucas was there when Nancy tried to chop my head off”, Steve said in his defense.

Mike shrugged. “Yeah, but she was probably going easy on you.”

“You’d probably be good at that”, El pointed to where a bunch of young adults were tossing spears to see who could get it the farthest.

A simple task, especially given his royal training. Steve thought it almost unfair as he stepped up to compete. But he took the other seriously as he stretched and got ready. He wasn’t surprised when he thrust the spear forward and it fell in a graceful arc leagues further than any other. Still, he was glad that he wasn’t getting rusty up in that castle, locked away. Steve figured he’d proven himself, but then he was pointed to hay bale lifting, then the races, and then a child toss.

“Wait, why am I tossing you guys into the water?”, Steve asked while other people were stretching their legs.

Dustin lit up. “The child toss has a rich history that’s actually hotly debated and only because Eddie won’t tell us what really happened because he thinks its funny how many different stories there are-”

“Just lift them up and throw them in the pond as fast as you can”, Max said.

“As fun as it would be to chuck some of you, not in these clothes”, Steve put his foot down.

Thankfully, they moved quickly to the other games. All things that Steve excelled at. For as much as he was trying to keep a low profile, the townsfolk started to be taken with this talented stranger. It didn’t hurt that many of the events gave them glimpses at his physique. As he promised, once they got their fill of watching him compete, he took them to the market where farmers were presenting the bounties of early spring. It was a good preview of things to come in the following months.

Steve popped a berry into his mouth when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw a man he didn’t recognize. For a moment, he thought he’d been seen for who he was, but he read the other man’s body language. There was something a little nervous about it, especially in the way he seemed to want to look at Steve but not meet his gaze.

“Hey uh, so I saw you over at the fields and uh-”

Ah.

Steve licked some of the juice off his fingers and noticed how intensely he was being watched. He had his fair share of bedmates back home and was familiar with the look of desire. It had just been so long since he'd seen it. Before the man could continue, El was calling for him and Max was grabbing him by the elbow. The girls wanted to go and watch the street musicians while the boys wanted to go and visit the mechanists. Steve finally conceded to a split on the condition that they met up for lunch in half an hour.

“Half an hour is barely any time”, Mike complained.

“It’s all you have if you want to eat before seeing the illusionist. You have to be on stage right after that”, Steve reminded them.

Given that time limit, Will and the other boys rushed off to see the new machines and inventions dreamt up during the winter while the girls led Steve towards music playing. Unbeknownst to anyone there, the king was already present, red hood obscuring his face as he sat on a barrel, playing a cheerful tune for his people.

Part 16

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug @lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #the party

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rosedpetal · 2 months

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Workmates

Summary: Ransom Drysdale has been the essence of hell in your life, and now you two are forced to work together.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Authors note: this is a repost, and it was originally a three part fic.

Warnings: smut at the end.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Ransom was staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. The remains of your coffee were sprawled on the cafeteria floor, on the table, and on your - not anymore - white shirt.

"Jesus, Y/N! Are you okay?" Your boss, Emma, the senior partner of the law firm you worked for, asked you while you put your weight on your hands to get balanced enough to get up. You wanted to scream that no, you were not okay. You fell on your fucking knees after being tripped by Ransom. That son of a...

"I'm fine, really." You mumbled, accepting her hand for help. Emma weirdly looked at Ransom. She was probably confused about why he didn't offer you, a lady, his hand. You almost laughed. Ransom Drysdale was no gentleman, and why would he help you when he was the reason you almost broke your kneecaps?

You sighed, trying not to cry. You didn't spare him a second glance, because you knew that if you did, you would end up kicking his groin.

"You don't seem fine, sweetheart." His condescending voice mocked you. "Perhaps we should have this conversation on another day?"

It would be great for him to have this conversation on another day. He and you were fighting for the same promotion in the firm - and you'd been there for the past three years, while the nepo baby had started a few months prior - and it was being a nerve-wracking competition where he would torment you, and you would try not to react.

So much for having some fucking peace.

You spent years studying hard to get a decent-paying job, one that would make your parents' struggle of having a kid in college worth it. You had to be successful. You owed them that.

And while some of your classmates - Ransom Drysdale and his obnoxious rich buddies - partied and failed assignment after assignment, you almost went crazy doing everything you could to get your law degree and pass the bar exam.

You still couldn't get a grasp on how Ransom passed the bar. Back then, he never seemed the studious type, and he never gave you a second glance either - the girl in the front seat, face buried in books, making notes and asking questions all the damn time. You didn't pleasantly catch his eye, either. Most of your female classmates had tans for spending weekends on sunny beaches, had better wardrobes than you, and could have meals without feeling guilty because the money spent on it wouldn't make a difference in their bank accounts.

You envied them. But most of the time, you couldn't be allowed to feel sorry for yourself when there was such a long journey to complete.

It was for the best, in the end. You got into a renowned law firm and paid off your student loans. With your new income, you could finally afford a good apartment, treat your parents and give yourself luxuries you never dreamed about.

And just after you finally started thriving, Ransom fucking Drysdale got a job offer at the same firm, and he dared to look surprised when he saw you working there.

You were the one who should be surprised. Ransom was a total airhead - and that was a compliment. How the fuck a lazy rich man-child passed the fucking bar when he didn't bother even attending classes?

Why is life so fucking unfair?

“You dozed off a little, sweetheart." Ransom stated while you stared at Emma.

"I think we should have this conversation now, I can just put a sweater over my shirt." You tried to put on a calm voice but you cringed at how you sounded distressed.

Damn right you were about to cry.

"Hmm, okay." Emma stared at the two of you back and forth. She was too damn smart to not see through your poor excuse of a friendly façade with Ransom, but she was also kind enough to not say a thing about it.

"I gave it a thought, and while you, Hugh, are way above the expectations for your lack of experience; Y/N's been the top attorney of this firm for years. It's not really a fair comparison."

It's really fucking not, Emma! You wanted to yell at her face but forced a smile at the compliment.

"So, I had this amazing idea." she continued, and you started to panic. While Emma was brilliant she could be so naive with her ideas. She looked at you. "You get the promotion and take Hugh under your wing. You'll work on your cases together, and he gets more experience... What do you think?

Before you could answer her, Ransom smiled like a kid in a candy shop.

"We're gonna work so well together, Y/N!" The bastard grinned. "Thank you for the opportunity, Emma, it means the world to me."

You wished the earth opened up and swallowed you up.

Your new office was way bigger, just as much as the dread in your veins. It had a nice view of Boston from your giant glass windows, and you couldn't even enjoy it because of your new work buddy.

"Good morning, boss!" His voice chanted behind you, and you turned to face him, angrily. "Why the face? Didn't get your coffee this morning?"

You breathed in, out, in, out. Maybe if you counted to ten, you wouldn't throw him out the window. You pictured the noise his body would make once it hit the ground, and suddenly, you were in a lighter mood.

"No, a little bitch tripped me and I couldn't enjoy it. But I just know you're going to be a sweetheart and get me another one." You pronounced the word 'sweetheart' with vengeance.

"How do you like your coffee, sweetheart?" He mimicked and smiled at you, unfazed.

Oh, the realization hit you. He was totally gonna spit on your precious coffee.

"Nevermind, I'm not in the mood for coffee anymore." You answered him quickly, trying to ignore his disturbing existence and adjusting your things. You were an organized person, and all the files of your current cases were organized inside a big archive box.

You sat on your new chair and placed your laptop on your new desk while Ransom was still staring at you like a moron.

"What?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended.

"Just thinking. I should've given you more attention in college. Maybe I would be sitting on your chair and you would be the one fantasizing about spitting on my coffee."

You snorted and he looked at you, amused. You were caught off guard too.

After that little moment, the first day working with him went by surprisingly well. You went over cases, spoke with clients and he took everything in gracefully. You were still mad at him, how couldn't you be? He was a fucking brat, and he was an ass with you for no reason.

Well, he had a reason but it wasn't a good motive. He tried to bully you to quit, how fucked up in the head that could be? If work was high school, Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be the mean cheerleader captain.

When you were about to leave for the day, grabbing your coat and your bag, Ransom stopped you.

"Hey, wanna have a drink tonight?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Absolutely fucking not, Drysdale."

He just shrugged, and you went straight home.

After a few weeks, Ransom started growing on you. On a particularly rough morning, when a client was being a pain on your and Ransom's existences, he brought you coffee after noticing you were on the verge of crying.

"Don't let it get to you, Y/N. God knows I don't." He offered with a tight smile. You were too tired to make a snarky comment about him being an actually decent human being, so you just sipped on your coffee before you went full sobbing.

Those damned female hormones.

Ransom cleared his throat.

"Ok, this is awkward." He clarified. Between crying and sniffing, you weren't really surprised at how emotionally stunted Ransom was.

It was comical. He stood there, not knowing what to do. And then, he patted your head.

He actually patted your head. Like you were a fucking dog. You were so stunned at the gesture that you didn't even realize it when you started laughing.

You threw your head back, new tears forming on your eyes. You laughed so hard that your tummy hurt.

Ransom laughed with you too. Like genuinely laughing. Who would say such a thing could happen?

You rolled over, grabbing your front and trying to catch your breath.

You didn't notice, but you started growing on him too.

Your work dynamics with Ransom were almost perfect. You finally felt like you could trust him to do some work on his own, so you let him be on some paperwork while you finished others.

The weather began to get chilly by the end of your office hours and Ransom invited you to his place to get over a file again, to which you stupidly agreed. So you followed his car, getting a little anxious.

When he finally pulled over, you were quite surprised at how cozy the two-story house looked. It wasn't something you expected for a single man.

He even had a white fence!

He smiled at you when you walked through the door, taking in the dim lights, the fireplace in the living room, and his big kitchen. You wondered if he cooked his own meals.

"Wine?" He offered, already pouring a bottle of some expensive delicacy you've never tasted. You only bought cheap drinks, maybe too worried to spend so much money on such a frivolous thing after how you struggled financially growing up.

"Just a glass, I don't wanna get dizzy." You accepted the glass in his extended hand and took a little sip.

You never even read the file you were supposed to.

Ransom started to babble about how he bought this home after passing the bar exam, excited to start a new journey in his life, where he could be his own person and have something he achieved for himself, instead of working with his grandfather for the rest of his life.

Listening to his life story, his fucked up family, and how he self-doubted he could actually succeed without their money and connections made you feel a little more sympathetic toward him.

Because while you resented him for having the life you only dreamed of, his privileges got in his way of flourishing. And despite all of your struggles, you had loving parents that nurtured you into the woman you were now.

"Do you know I used to despise you?" You let the words slip off your mouth before you could stop them. "You infuriated me. I hated how carefree you were in college because you could fail and you would still have new opportunities. It was my only chance. I worked so hard, and then I saw you at the firm and..."

He looked at you, expectantly.

"I doubted you. And after Emma stated that the promotion was for me or you, and you began to make my work hours a living hell, I even contemplated looking for another job."

Ransom scoffed.

"I wasn't that bad."

"Say that to my knees, Ransom."

He chuckled.

"If it makes it better, I didn't think you were going to get hurt."

You lifted your brown and sipped on your wine, emptying the glass. He reached for the bottle to pour more, but you stopped him by putting your hand over his. His eyes moved to yours, and then to your lips.

He didn't hesitate when your lips reached for his, eager and passionate. Your body began moving to its own accord, straddling his lap on the leather couch, his hands on your waist, groping your ass, on the back of your neck pulling your hair to leave a trail of wet kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbones...

You yelped when he ripped your white blouse, buttons flying everywhere. He cupped your breasts over your bra, savoring your beautiful body over him.

"You have no idea of how much I fantasized about this, Y/N" His breath fanned your ear, and he sucked on your earlobe, almost taking your earring off. You let out a little gasp when his hands reached under your skirt. "I always knew the promotion was yours. But seeing you mad was such a turn-on."

Your eyes shot open. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I wasn't just mad, Drysdale. I was having the worst time of my life since college! I can't believe you right now" You got off his lap easily, and he didn't try to stop you.

"Don't be like that, Y/N, I already apologized-" He started, but you cut him off quickly:

"And just because you said your sorry words it means everything is fixed, uh?" You scoffed at him, grabbing your bag on the kitchen counter. "See you on Monday, asshole."

You stormed off his house, ready to drown in regret for kissing him.

Because now that you did, you couldn't get the tingling feeling off your lips and the longing for more.

You were dreading the moment you'd have to get up from your bed and go to work. The weekend went by really quick, but also really slow (the waves of anxiety tormenting your thoughts were responsible for that).

Monday morning, after brushing your teeth angrily, sipping on your tea angrily, and almost tearing the zipper of your favorite pencil skirt, you took a breath and asked yourself why you were so worried. Ransom wasn't really that important (except he was, and not even you could deny it for much longer).

You were angry at yourself. That night you were at his place, drank his wine, and also, you made the first move. When have you become so bold?

And then, you snapped at him and had to become sexually frustrated too.

It's like I hate myself or something, you thought, grabbing the designer bag Emma gave you on your birthday and putting your belongings in it.

Maybe I should just quit, move to another country and start a new life. Okay, you were being too dramatic, but how could you face him now?

You weren't brazen like Ransom. For all you knew about him, he could kick a puppy on the street and go on with his life like nothing happened later.

But you? You calculated your life at the smallest details, meticulously navigating through all your milestones and you never strayed. You tried to be the nicest person on the earth, because life was already hard as it was. You couldn't just snap one day and let it all go down to drain.

"Why that face, Y/N?" One of your colleagues asked when you entered the building. You bit the remark on your tongue and just said you had too much to drink the night before.

Jesus. You had a resting bitch face. Should you get botox?

Almost getting lost in your thoughts (you couldn't really ignore the anxiousness at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill back the contents of your breakfast), you got in the elevator, pressed the button to your floor, and let your back rest against the metal doors.

The door opened, and your gaze lowered to your black scarpins. Ransom cleared his throat, mouthing a low "good morning". You held your breath when his cologne filled your nostrils. It seemed ten times stronger now, hitting you with vengefulness.

Why did he have to smell so good? You never noticed a man's perfume before, they all seemed pretty much the same to you, and you never noticed Ransom's either until recently.

Until you were straddling his lap, getting intoxicated by it.

"Did someone steal your teddy bear or something?" He asked abruptly, turning to face you. "Can we not be awkward right now?"

"It's too late for that." You replied in a weird voice, shifting the weight of your feet to the other. Ransom rolled his eyes.

"And why the hell are you so pale? When was the last time you ate?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose in your thumb and index finger. You just ate, he's just being an asshole, Y/N, you reminded yourself.

"Are you seriously gonna pretend I'm not talking to you right now? How can you-"

"Ransom, SHUT UP!" You yelled, surprising you both with the tone of your voice. "Sorry, I just- can we not do this right now?"

He sighed. When you reached the floor of your office, Ransom went first, stomping his feet. You almost smiled, he was such a child.

As he walked in front of you, you couldn't help but notice his peachy bottom.

"Were you checking me out just right now?"

"Yeah, you could use some squats." You stopped daydreaming and replied in a sassy tone, putting your bag on your desk and crossing your arms on your chest. Your eyes reached his and your expression softened. "Look, Ransom, I'm so sorry about that night. I shouldn't have done that, I'm so mortified. That was really uncalled for. And unprofessional. I understand if you want to go to HR and get me a complaint." You word-vomited, speaking so fast that if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't get a thing of what you just said.

His eyes widened and he gave you a short, humorless laugh.

"Why the hell would I do that to you, woman? I was giving you signs the whole evening. I wanted that for so long, and I'm so fucking mad at you right now for apologizing for the wrong reason!"

"Ransom, I-" You tried to reason, but he cut you off.

"No, you shut your fucking mouth now, Y/N. I even gave you space because I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to text just to never press 'send'? And now you apologize for kissing me? You should apologize for leaving me with a damn boner-"

"Lower your voice!" You half whispered half yelled at him, looking around to see if anyone heard what he said. His jaw clenched, and he got closer to you. When you were face to face, he punctuated in a low tone:

"I'm tired of your bullshit. Do you think having your whole life planned will get you everything you want? I see a frustrated woman who can't let her guard down and can't even get laid".

His breath was mixing with yours, words cruelly spit, and you felt your nostrils flare with anger. He kept going as if he didn't humiliated you enough:

"It's actually for the best. You're probably a bad fuck, anyway."

You turned on your heels with balled fists on your sides and chose to ignore him, otherwise, you would really give him a reason to go to HR.

The two of you were back to square one. He would be a little shit to you, and you would try your best not to punch his face. You were glad he was your protégée and not the other way around - you didn't like to think what he could do to you in a position of power.

On lunch break, you got yourself a salad with grilled chicken, not really hungry. As you sat to eat with one of your work friends at the restaurant across the street from the building, you spotted Ransom talking to a woman from another floor. She was twisting one of her locks in her finger and laughing at something he was saying. You rolled your eyes, scoffing, and went back to eat your salad.

"He's so hot" Lizzie sighed, daydreaming. "How can you work with him and not be head over heels?"

"Just talk to him for a minute and you'll know why." You seethed and chewed on your lettuce.

"That lady over there seems quite fond of him." She went on, not picking on your mood shift. "Look at that nice piece of ass over there! And those muscles under those sweaters? I'd let him choke me to death with those arms".

"Please, shut up." You begged. "I'm about to throw up".

"Stop being a prude." She rolled her eyes at you. "Oh, that bitch is so lucky, she's probably thinking about-"

"Oh my God, Elizabeth, I'm not eating with you anymore." You interrupted her monologue and she eyed you curiously.

"What's your deal with him? You two slept together or something?" You didn't dignify her with an answer and her eyes widened. "Oh God! You totally did-"

"Shush!" You pressed your index finger on her lips. "We didn't, but we kissed. And this conversation is over. I refuse to talk about it ever again."

You must've sound really serious, because she actually dropped the subject.

With a blink of your eye, the week was over. Your interactions with Ransom were getting more mechanical and since you showed no interest in engaging with his childish games he stopped disturbing your peace.

Lizzie respected your wish to not talk about Ransom for longer than you expected, just bringing the topic once to coerce you to go out with her Friday night.

And that was the reason you were wearing a shiny pink bodycon dress with thin straps and white high heels, in a long ass line to get inside a shady dance club. Lizzie was talking nonstop in your ear, and you just listened, bored and in need of a drink.

When you finally got in, she dragged you to a booth and ordered cocktails for you two.

"Let's get you loosened up to drop the constipated face!" She yelled over the music and you glared at her angrily, sipping on your glass and probably making a face.

"What the hell?" You weren't drinking that. God, that was so disgusting, whatever that drink was made of it was fucking terrible. You got up to the bar to get something else, and then, you saw him.

Ransom was sitting with his friends and with a pretty brunette stuck on his side, almost on his lap. He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned his head and he locked eyes with you.

Fuck.

Okay, you weren't a coward. You could play it cool. Breaking eye contact, you went to the bar and ordered a piña colada, and as you were waiting for your drink, you felt someone's hand touching your arm.

Sighing, you looked back, ready to fight the asshole who was touching you without your permission.

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw Ransom with a smirk on his face.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? I'm a terrible fuck." You grinned and he laughed, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, probably from drinking.

"One of my buddies over there asked if you were single."

"Oh. I'm not interested" you stated.

"Don't worry, I told him that you have gonorrhea."

Your blood boiled.

"What? Are you insane, Drysdale? I'm going to fucking sue you, you stupid son of a bitch!" You index finger were on his face and he broke in a fit of laughter, his hand resting on his stomach.

"I'm just kidding, god, your face!" He managed to say between his stupid giggles. You rolled your eyes and went to the booth to find Lizzie.

How could someone be so insufferable? It was like a gift.

"I'm offended that you didn't like my drink." Lizzie pouted at you, already drunk. Yeah, you could see how the night was going to end. You holding her hair while she emptied her stomach on the toilet.

"Girl, take it easy." You rolled your eyes. "You won't believe who I just saw".

"Mr. Drysdale?"

"Yeah, how did you know? Oh." You barely finished your sentence and she moved her head, pointing to him, sitting in front of you in your booth. "You don't fucking give up, do you?"

"Can we talk?"

"No!"

"Yes."

You looked at Lizzie, feeling betrayed. She got up and left you alone with him, that little bitch.

"Okay, Drysdale, humor me."

"I miss you?"

"It sounds like a question, not an statement." You shook your head to him. "And don't you have an arm candy waiting for you over there?"

The girl he was with minutes ago stared at you with bitterness, her crimson red lips curled in a thin line.

His eyebrow rose. "Am I detecting a hint of jealousy?"

"In your dreams, Drysdale. Just thought you'd like to go back to her, since she's marching over here looking royally pissed."

When Ransom turned his head to look, she was already throwing her drink on his face.

"You are the worst date ever!" She screamed and left, stomping her feet like she was throwing a tantrum.

Serves him right for going out with a girl that barely looked old enough to drink.

You folded your arms over your chest and smiled at him. His hair was wet, and the drink was dripping from his chin, also wetting his shirt.

You were wrong, going out tonight was totally worth it.

Somehow, you, Lizzie and Ransom left the club together.

Well, more like he was helping you carry the woman and get her taken care of.

Without complaining (for your surprise), Ransom secured Lizzie in his arms while she threw up on the street outside of the club whilst you held her hair; got an Uber for you guys and helped you put her in the backseat; picked her up bridal style while you searched for her keys on her JW Pei bag; tuck her in bed gently while you got a glass of water and aspirin for her and left them on her nightstand.

You two mumbled good night to Lizzie, and she replied in drunk gibberish.

When you left her apartment, you locked the door on the outside and slipped the key back inside under it.

And just like that, you two were alone, and you suddenly became aware of that and the silence.

Ransom's hair was a little messy, but you never thought of him so handsome as he was in that moment. His blue eyes bored into yours like a silent plead.

You wondered if you two would ever understand each other.

It seemed like hours, but only seconds have passed. His body got closer to yours, and he grabbed your middle, pulling you into him. You let out a little whimper when his forehead rested into yours, noses touching.

"Please, don't run away now." He begged, his voice hoarse. His skin was a little sticky, probably from the sugary drink thrown on him earlier.

You answered by claiming his lips with yours.

You moaned softly, feeling your lips swollen. Ransom kissed you breathless, unlocking his front door and dragging you inside with him. He pulled you by the back of your thighs to straddle his hips and squeezed your ass cheeks roughly. The hem of your mini dress was already rolled up to your stomach, giving him free access.

You knew you wouldn't be able to get to his bedroom.

He lowered you into his leather couch, taking his shirt off the next second. You bit your lip while taking him in - he looked like a damn god.

Fuck my life, you thought.

Driven by lust, you grabbed him by his belt and clumsily unbuckled it, cussing at it. He chuckled lowly and helped you, lowering his jeans of his toned legs along with his boxers. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock: long, thick, hard and leaking for you.

You looked at him through your eyelashes and moistened him with your saliva, rolling your tongue sinfully on the red tip while he watched you with a clenched jaw, using his hands to put your hair on a ponytail.

"You did not learn how to suck dick like a pro until after college, that's for sure." He mocked you, and you pinched the inside of his thigh. Ransom hissed at you, and completed: "''Cause you were too busy studying to practice thiiiiis-" He moaned, curling his toes when you finally took him in your mouth the best you could.

You felt your panties getting wetter and your jaw ache. You bobbed your head, slowly at first, getting used to his thickness. Your dominant hand jerked the rest of him off, and the other grabbed his butt to force him deeper into your throat.

You drooled all over your chin, feeling tears prick on your eyes when he picked up the pace and face-fucked you. You gagged and tried your best to breathe through your nose, while Ransom let the dirtiest sequence of curses leave his mouth.

He stopped the assault on your throat abruptly, and lift your body up by your hair slowly.

"I'm gonna cum on that sweet mouth some other time, I need to be inside of you now." He sat you on the couch and pulled your dress off your body.

He kissed you again, impatient this time, lowering his hand to your panties and ripping them. He threw the destroyed lace on the floor and rubbed his fingers on your slickness, lubricating his fingers. He slipped one inside of you and you moaned at the entrance, massaging his tongue with yours.

He added another finger and curled them inside of you, earning a gasp from you. You screamed when Ransom started scissoring you in a fast pace, unprepared for it. Your high was building fast, and you came on his fingers, getting his hand wet with your juices.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You cried out when he didn't stop, convulsing again and sobbing on his mouth. He retreated his fingers from you and laid you on the couch, then stroked his cock with his hand, rubbing the tip on your clit. You moaned and he sank on you, making you tense with the intrusion.

Slowly, he bottomed you out. He grabbed your hips, and your legs wrapped around him, urging him to move.

He moved back.

And slammed back in.

You cried out in surprise, while he fastened his pace and fucked you good.

"Yes baby, this fucking cunt is mine now." He groaned and rubbed your clit with his thumb, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it".

"It's yours-oh God-" You cried out. Ransom showed you no mercy while he fucked you, making your insides burn and build that familiar coil again. His hips snapped into yours with vengeance, making your eyes roll back on your skull. No sound left your mouth when you came again, shaking. Ransom pulled out and came on your stomach, making the sexiest sounds you've ever heard from a man before.

He fell on your side, calming his breathing. Ransom threw his arm around you and kissed your temple gently.

"We're gonna take a bath and find out a way to tell Emma that we're a thing now".

You smiled, closing your eyes and hoping he would carry you to that bath, because there's no way you could walk now.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #cevans character #chris evans character fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fluff

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iandarling · 6 months

Text

Ian Gallagher loves thrifting shopping

-From as early as he can remember Fiona would drag him and Lip (and later on the other kids) to various thrift shops to scout for winter coats and homeware goods. Fiona let him and Lip run around and play a game of “find the ugliest thing in the shop” while she desperately searched the bins for a winter coat that could fit a 5 year old that he could also grow into. She has 25 bucks in hand trying to find clothing to keep her brothers warm all the while Lip and Ian are playing hide and seek in the back

-When he grows a little older he takes Debbie and Carl with him to find clothes for summer (most of fiona’s clothes don’t fit debbie yet so she needs a whole new wardrobe, but carl inherited his brothers old clothes). Ian spends hours rummaging through the racks hoping to find a some decent looking clothes that could survive multiple years of the harsh summer heat

-Once Liam is born the Gallaghers have a ton of baby clothes he can use and grow into- they’ve been passed down from Lip, Ian, Debbie and now Carl. Even so, Ian wants to give Liam something new-ish that could be just his. He has about 20 bucks and he goes to thrift shops on the north side to look for some better quality baby clothes and toys- he finds an unused teddy bear and a handsome little jacket

-When he’s a young adult Ian spends a small amount of his pay check each month collecting bits and pieces for the home- new kitchenware and some new towels for the bathroom, some posters for Carl and Liam, books for Debbie and candles for Fiona.

-When Ian and Mickey moved into their apartment, they go thrifting in the fancy shops on the west side (“you won’t believe what these rich fuckers give away for free, man!”) They find a nice little patio furniture set for 50 bucks that they use everyday, Ian finds a lightly used blue Le Cruset oven-dish and he’s never been happier

-Ian keeps up his childhood game of “find the ugliest thing in the shop” with Mickey and Liam. He finds a “trophy wife” t-shirt that he buys for himself (“i know what i am and i’m proud of it”), a new backpack for Liam alongside new textbooks he needs for high school

-Mickey discovers that thrift shops have a good deal on dvds (“fuck netflix man, i prefer the physical copies”), he ends up finding a sale of 10 dvds for 1 dollar (so naturally he ends up with 30 dvds, he likes having them stacked up next to the tv). Ian picks out a lot of kids movies for Franny and Freddie and some documentaries for Liam, but the rest are all the movies he and mickey loves

-As a kid he used to frequent thrift shops in hopes of finding clothes to keep him and his siblings warm throughout the winter, but as an adult he can afford new clothes. Now, he spends his time looking for items for his home- new lampshades, curtains, posters and artwork that mickey will also like.

-He is no longer worried of spending another winter without a jacket, but he will always pop by a thrift shop when he sees one…

“just in case”

Gallager Headcanons, as requested

@lupeloto

#your honour they are husbands #gallavich #gallavich headcanon #my post

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afictionaladventure16 · 1 year

Note

Reader being Pedro’s co-star (maybe along Bella in TLOU or if not in another show/film) and him basically taking her in after finding out she’s not being well taken care of in her home, so he becomes her surrogate dad

It's Gonna Be Okay (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Word Count: 5,091

A/N: I may have took this request and ran with it.... but uhhhh I hope this is somewhat what you least expected... enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of neglect and abuse.

If it were up to you, you wouldn’t have taken up acting when you were younger. You were forced into it at a young age, it was so you could help pay bills because your father was on disability and your mother didn’t want to give up her position as a housewife. You eventually fell in love with acting, being able to just escape your life and family and just be someone completely different.

You’d had been getting bigger roles now that you were older. At only age fourteen, you had gotten many roles in shows and movies. You were proud of yourself. Someone had to be. You were currently working on another film after just finished working on the Prospect, which starred Pedro Pascal as Ezra. You played Cee, a girl who is traveling planets with her father. This film you were starring in now was a small indie film, which had been something different than what you usually worked on. That didn’t mean that you didn’t like it, you liked the challenge.

You walked into your trailer after shooting a couple of scenes. Your mom was on the phone with god only knows who. For the longest, you wished your relationship with your parents was better. You wished they could be proud of you and that maybe they did this because they wanted a better life for you. But that wasn’t the case, they were only thinking for themselves.

Your mom hung up the phone, “your father and I were thinking about buying a new house.”

“We just bought a house,” you stated as you began to undress from your wardrobe for your character and into some regular clothes.

“Well, I think we could use something new. Plus with the money you made from your previous role, we can afford it?”

You let out a deep sigh, “but that’s my money, shouldn’t I have a say?”

“Your money? Sweetie, it’s our money.”

“I was the one who did all the work, my name is on the checks!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, you know the money goes to an account that has me and your father as the trustees.” You couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve taken it for years and years, them using you to get money and you knew eventually you would be left with nothing.

“It’s my money, that money is supposed to be left untouched.”

Your mom let out a deep breath, “Well, it’s the least you could do for all we do for you.”

“All you do for me? What? Sit around and not do anything!?”

She began to rub her temples, “sometimes I wish I never had you,” she spat.

“If you hate me so much then why did you ever have me?” You asked, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“We had you because we thought you could fix us!”

“So what I’m just some kid you have when your marriage is falling apart? So if that doesn’t work you can blame the kid? You were better off getting a dog!”

“Maybe we were better getting a dog! At least the dog would listen and be more appreciative! And you know what? You shouldn’t even be talking to me like that, I am your mother!”

“Barely! I only see you when it’s convenient! All I am to you is an ATM!”

“You are so ungrateful, you have no idea what we do so you could be some superstar!”

“You didn’t do shit! I did this! I walked myself to auditions! I took the bus to film locations! I did it!” You yelled, allowing yourself to finally yell out everything you had been holding back.

“Fuck this,” she said as she walked away to grab her bag.

“I’m not going home,” you said.

“Ni te quiero ahi de todos modos,” (I don’t want you there anyway) she hissed as she walked out of the trailer. You didn’t know where you could go if you couldn’t go home. If you could even call that place home.

You felt the warm tears make their way down your cheeks, and you were quick to wipe them away, “I don’t need them,” you said to yourself. You grabbed your backpack of essentials, you usually carried it around because it was stuff you needed for before and after shoots and now it was convenient because you couldn’t go home.

When you walked out of your trailer, almost everyone had gone home for the night. Most of the shooting took place in Los Angeles which was where more than half the cast and crew lived. The others rented places to live in until the end of the shoot.

You didn’t know where to go, but your feet seemed to lead you the way to the bus stop. It was almost like you were on autopilot to the only place you knew you’d welcomed.

Once you had gotten on the bus, you noticed dark clouds beginning to cover the sunset sky. Usually, you would be happy to see that it was about to rain, but since you were stuck in a bus and would eventually have to walk the rest of the way to your destination, you were feeling the opposite to see the clouds.

You had ridden the bus for a good twenty minutes, this was one of the routes you got to know over the past couple of months since filming. You’d ride the bus for twenty minutes and then walk the rest of the way, which was another twenty minutes.

It only sprinkled during the walk to your destination. But it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. The whole walk to the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but wonder what life could have been if maybe your parents actually cared. What will life become if this continued? You couldn’t handle the way they treated you as if you were just an employee, you yearned for that feeling of being loved by your parents.

You couldn’t quite remember when exactly it started, you thought it could’ve been when your dad got injured at work, but even then you felt it was before that. You admit, that the words your mother said hurt. You were only created to fix their marriage and even that couldn’t fix it because it was obvious to everyone that it was falling apart day by day.

Once you had gotten to the neighborhood, you were glad that they didn’t live in a gated community or else this walk would’ve been for nothing. You ran the rest of the way to the house, running up the steps, and knocking on the door.

You stood in silence for a few seconds until the door opened, “Y/N? What are you doing here?” Pedro asked in shock, “Mija, you’re all soaked, get in.” Pedro pulled you into the house, before running off to grab you a towel.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve called,” you began to say.

He chuckled, “Yeah, I could’ve gotten you a ride.”

That was true, but part of you just wanted to be left alone. “Sorry,” you said again.

Pedro wrapped the towel around you, “Take your shoes off, make yourself at home.” You never understood that phrase, maybe because you never knew what a home should feel like. You cleared your throat as you took your shoes off, placing them by the door. You followed Pedro into the living room, “You came just in time, I was gonna start a movie marathon…” Pedro looked over at you standing by the couch. “Pues, mija sit down.”

“I don’t want to ruin the couch,” you gestured to your wet clothes. Pedro could care less if you got his couch a little wet, but he probably thought you felt uncomfortable in wet clothes.

“Hold on,” he said as he ran up to one of the rooms. He came down a few minutes later, “I remembered one of my little cousins left some of their clothes here the last time they came to visit. These pajama pants should fit and I have one of my old Fleetwood mac tees here.” He handed you the clothes, giving you a grin.

“Thanks,” you said with a smile.

“You know where the bathroom is,” he gestured towards the hallway. This wasn’t your first time in Pedro’s house, in fact, you came over to his house pretty often. Since being in the Prospect together, you have developed a strong bond with Pedro. You still hung out with him whenever he was in town and you even went to visit him in New York a few times. This house has become like a home to you, a true home. One in which you could actually be yourself, when you came here you never wanted to go to the one where your parents were. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t as surprised to see you, just more surprised you didn’t call him. You quickly changed in the bathroom, and when you walked back out to the living room, Pedro had microwaved some popcorn. He pats the spot next to him for you to sit down.

You rolled your eyes and sat down beside him, “What are we watching?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s going on,” he asked in a serious tone.

You sighed, “don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do your parents know you're here?”

“All they know is that I’m not home and they’re happy with that,” you picked up some popcorn and began eating.

“Now why would you say that?” At this point he turned the T.V. off, giving you his full attention.

“My mom and I got into this big argument,” you said, hoping he would drop it and you could just go back to ignoring the situation.

“About?” But part of you knew he wasn’t going to just drop it. Pedro was a good listener and for some reason, he had done more for you in the little time he has known you, than your parents ever have.

“Money,” you began, not even trying to hold it in anymore, maybe he could help you do something about it. “They’ve been spending everything I’ve earned like it’s no tomorrow and now I’m scared that that’s all they care about.”

“What?” Pedro sat up, “They can’t do that, it’s your money,” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he knew he had to be somewhat illegal.

“I know,” You sighed, “but they're my parents”

“Mija, they signed a contract. Only a certain percentage of that money goes to an account that they could spend for you, the rest has to go to a savings account for you.”

“It’s all in one account,” you responded. “I don’t know what to do, I’m too young to get emancipated, and even then… I have no other family I can stay with.”

Pedro got up, he knew he had to talk to someone about this, maybe one of the directors or even your manager. He just knew this wasn’t right. He grabbed his phone from the counter, Pedro hesitated for a second, what was he doing? The choices he made right now could change your life either for the better or for the worse.

He went into his contacts, tapping on his phone a few times before pressing it to his ear, “Pedro?” You called out, walking in the direction he went. “What are you doing?” You asked as soon as you saw him.

Before he could respond to you, someone had picked up, “Hello?”

“Chris,” he began, your eyes widen, you couldn’t believe he had called your manager, you had forgotten that they had been good friends. “It’s Pedro.”

“Pedro, what are you doing?”

Pedro didn’t respond to you again, “Pedro, what’s up?”

“Any chance you can come by my place? Y/N is here and we have something to talk to you about.”

“Um, yeah, I can be there in like thirty minutes, sound good?”

“Yeah, see you then,” Pedro hung up the phone, looking over at you, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“How do you know that?”

He sighed, “because I’ll be there to help you, okay? You’re not alone, Y/N. Do you trust me?” You didn’t trust a lot of people, but Pedro was one of the few you did trust. He had shown you that you could trust him time and time again. You gave him a small nod. He smiled softly at you, “you hungry?”

“I don’t think I can eat at a time like this,” you said nervously. Pedro understood he didn’t think he could eat either, but he knew it was rude to not offer.

When Chris arrived, Pedro did most of the talking. You sat on the couch, nodding every once in a while or talking when things needed more clarity. But for the most part, Pedro was your advocate and you were content that you didn’t have to deal with it. Chris was overwhelmed with the information he was given, but he knew what to do in these kinds of situations.

“I can get you a lawyer,” he began, “but I’m letting you know now, it’s gonna get messy. We’ll have to find a family for you to stay with-”

“I have no other family,” you confessed.

“Well, they might have you-”

“She can stay with me,” Pedro blurted out. “If she’s able to.”

“It’s possible. We’d just have to provide evidence that temporary guardianship is needed in this case,” Chris stated.

“I have evidence,” you began, “just do whatever is needed and I can provide the evidence.”

Chris sighed, “alright. I’ll keep in touch and It’s probably best if Y/N goes home tonight.”

“My mom told me not to come home.”

Chris glanced at Pedro before looking at you, he didn’t know what to say, “then I guess you’ll stay with Pedro for the night.” He didn’t say anything else before leaving.

“You think it’ll work?” you asked Pedro, he had sat down next to you once Chris had left.

“I like to think it will,” he gave you a reassuring smile before pulling you to his side.

“Did you really mean it?” you asked, receiving a confused look from Pedro. “When you said I could stay with you.”

“Of course I meant it,” he said. “You’re like a daughter I’ve never had, in just a few months we’ve known each other you have brought me so much joy and I have to admit, seeing you shoot your scenes, makes me feel so proud.”

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. Someone who didn’t even know you for your whole life was proud of you, more than your parents ever could be. “What’s wrong?” Pedro asked as he wiped away a tear off your cheek that had managed to escape. You shook your head, “Something has to be bothering you, muñeca, what is it?”

You let out a shaky breath, “it’s just… I wish my parents could say that they’re proud of me. I wish they could at least act like they loved me.”

“Oh, mija,” he cooed.

“You know what my mom said to me today?” you sniffled, “she said that they only had me because they thought I would help make their marriage work. What kind of person says that to their own kid?” You let out a soft sob, “Do I even matter to them? To anyone?”

Pedro held you tight, “you matter to me.” He placed a small kiss on your temple, “they may say all these awful things but you are here for a reason.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Sure.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re like a daughter to me and I believe you were brought onto this earth to shine some joy into my life,” he gave you a reassuring smile. “Okay?” You gave him a nod, “Now let’s watch our movie marathon, we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

You laid your head on Pedro’s lap, watching as the opening credits began to play on the screen, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything was going to be okay. When you woke up that morning you didn’t imagine this was how you were going to end your day, but then again, no one ever really imagines how they would really end their day.

You wondered if you’d need to move out and if so, how would everyone take it? Did that really matter? No, it didn’t. You know Pedro said he’d take you in, but would he be true to his word? You couldn’t help but think about all these intrusive thoughts, all you wanted to do was watch the damn movie, but your mind was so loud.

The next day came and no word from Chris. You went back onto the set, your mother was there too. You played your best role yet, the obedient daughter. You sat and listened to your mother as she lectured you for not coming home last night, even though she had told you not to.

Days went by and only one call from Chris, he was working on it. That’s all he said. You visited Pedro a few times before he went back to New York.

Then weeks went by and eventually you finished filming. You hated when you weren’t filming, it meant you had to go home and spend most of your time there.

It wasn’t until a month after the whole talk with Chris was when your parents received the knock at the door. You were at the kitchen table when your mother answered the door, you could hear the shock in her voice when the gentleman said the four magical words, “You have been served.”

Your head the door shut, and the smile on your face only lasted a few seconds before it was met with anxiety. You heard the sounds of the envelope being torn apart and then complete silence. You were beginning to regret everything that had just happened, maybe it was just all a big mistake. Suing your parents was a big deal, accusing them of stealing was another big deal.

You heard footsteps inching closer to where you sat. Then silence. You looked up at your mother standing at the doorway, It was at that moment you knew that it was probably best that she was served the papers when you weren’t there. Because up until that moment, you had thought that all your mother would do was mentally and verbally abuse you, or steal from you.

“You bitch,” she spat as she threw the papers onto the table, “after everything we did for you!” She smacked her hand across your face, your hand instantly touching the spot she had slapped. “This is how you repay us!?”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, you got up from your seat to leave but your mother quickly blocked your way, “move.”

“This is how you repay us?” She asked again. You remained silent, not daring to look at her. It was all quick, her hand on your throat pushing you against the wall, “I’m asking you a question!” Her grip was strong, you scratched at her hand, hoping that it would pain her enough to let go.

It felt like you were against the wall for minutes. Her phone began to ring, allowing you to break free. You fell to your knees as you attempted to catch your breath. “Leave,” she began. “No te quiero ver en esta casa nunca mas, no me importa donde vas.” ( I don’t want to see you in this house anymore, I don’t care where you go) You remained silent as you got up from the floor, “Me oiste?” You didn’t say anything again as you grabbed your phone from the kitchen table. “I asked you a question!”

“Yes! I fucking heard you!” You yelled.

Your reflexes weren’t quick, maybe it was because you were still trying to recover from being choked, or maybe it was because your nerves were everywhere. You weren’t quick enough to dodge your mother's fist, and you stumbled back. Quickly covering your eye, you groaned as you felt it throbbing.

Your mother shook her hand, “Leave before I do something I’ll regret.”

“You’re fourteen years too late for that,” you muttered.

“Eres una disgracia, no eres mi hija. Quiero que todos que sepan que no tengo hija.” (You’re a disgace, not a daughter. I want everyone to know I don’t have a daughter) she muttered as you walked out of the room. You walked into your bedroom, and quickly looked at the damage to your eye, it didn’t look too bad but you knew it would bruise, not to mention the red marks on your neck. You couldn’t worry about it right now, you had to pack what was important and the essentials. As looked around your room, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted to take, just things you needed.

As you began to pack things, you decided to call Pedro, it had only rang a few times before he answered, “Hey, Y/N! I was just about to call you,” He began to say. “I was gonna surprise you, but I might as well just tell you, I’m in LA! I have an interview tonight an-” he had rambled on, but you had to interrupt, or else he wouldn’t have stopped.

“I need you to pick me up,” you cut him off.

Pedro went silent for a moment, “Everything okay?”

“My mom just got served, Pedro.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “I was hoping they’d tell me before they did anything, that way…” Pedro hesitated, he didn’t want to think about what could have happened. “are you okay?” he asks instead.

“Can you please pick me up?” You asked shakingly.

“Of course, Mija, I’ll be there right away, okay?” He said.

“Don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

Pedro’s heart sank, he could hear how torn you were, “okay, I won’t hang up.” You could hear car keys jingling on the other side of the phone, “I’m gonna connect the Bluetooth to my car, okay?”

“Okay,” you had zipped up the last of your stuff into one of your suitcases.

Pedro stayed silent for a few seconds, “are you still there?”

“I’m here,” you said. You began to make your way out of your room, and you spotted your mother still in the kitchen, phone pressed against her ear. You walked out of the house, without saying another word to her. You didn’t know how your father would react and you didn’t want to know. “I’m outside,” you said into the phone.

“I’m only a few minutes away.”

It felt more than a few minutes, it felt like hours. You stood at the driveway, anxious that you wouldn’t leave in time, you wanted to make sure you weren’t home when your father got there.

“I’m down the street,” Pedro announced.

You quickly spotted his car and you ended the call once he was close enough. Pedro parked at the curb, quickly getting out to help you put your stuff in the car. Before you could get in, he grabbed your arm, placing a hand on your face, “Mija,” he began as he noticed the marking on your neck and the swelling of your eye. “Did they do this to you?”

“Let’s go,” you pleaded. He sighed, he knew you were anxious to get out of there. He glanced over at the house you had come out of as you got in the car, he closed the door for you before getting in the car.

The car ride was silent, which was different. Usually, the car rides with Pedro were filled with music and laughter, but this time there was no music and no laughter. You stared out of the window for most of the ride. Once you got to the house, Pedro took your bags and you followed him inside.

“I need to make a phone call,” He informed you as he walked into his office.

You walked over to the window, looking out at the scenic view. Were you making a big mistake? Was he beginning to realize it?

You did the right thing, right?

You took charge of your life and you did the right thing, right? Even if it feels completely wrong and you feel so much guilt. Is it wrong to feel a little relief? Usually, relief meant a good thing, so did this mean it was a good thing?

You felt something on your shoulder, you jolted a bit at the sudden touch.

“Sorry,” Pedro apologized. You calmed down when you realized it was him, “I was on the phone with Chris and the lawyer.”

“What they say?”

“Well, I told them what happened and the lawyer is attempting to get an emergency temporary custody agreement from the judge so you could stay with me. He said he’ll be coming over to take pictures for evidence, but for now…” He sighed, “are you okay?” you shook your head. You didn’t need to say anymore, Pedro pulled you in for an embrace and you allowed yourself to feel everything.

For once you felt like you were able to feel everything without feeling guilty for doing so or even wrong to think such horrible things. But now that the truth has come to light, you were able to feel.

In most cases, this process would have taken days, but somehow the lawyers your manager hired made the process go by fast. Within a couple of hours, Pedro received the call that he was able to get temporary custody, but that’s all it was. Temporary. Eventually, you would have to go to court and maybe end up in foster care, but you didn’t want to think about that now.

“Let me see,” Pedro said softly as he joined you on the couch once again, he had been making some phone calls for the past twenty minutes. “Fuck,” he said softly, “They really hit you pretty well.”

“It hurts,” you groaned.

“I know,” he had a frozen pack of peas in his other hand, along with a small towel. He wrapped the bag of peas in the towel before gently placing it on your eye, “leave this on for twenty minutes, then rest it.” You gave him a nod as you took a hold of the bag of peas. “You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “not really.”

“That’s fine,” he said, trying not to push you into talking.

But that’s the thing, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to cry it out, you just didn’t want to feel like a burden, especially not to him. Not after all he has done for you so far.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, Pedro quickly took notice, pulling you back into an embrace. “I thought that I would be happier,” you cried. “They’ve always treated me so terribly and now that they’re no longer a part of my life… I don’t get it.” Pedro rubbed your back, “Why does it hurt so much? Why does it feel like-”

“Like you’ve lost your parents?” you nodded.

“Even if they never acted like parents.”

“I don’t know, grief is funny like that,” he said softly. “Some people don’t deserve to be parents, Y/N.”

You took in a deep breath, “you know what she said when I left?” he hummed in response, “Quiero que todos se sepan que no tengo una hija.” Every girl needs a mother, you needed a mother, and you had one. You just didn’t have the one that was portrayed in movies or the ones that your friends had. And you were always envious of that. You wished you had a mother that truly loved you and took pride in being your mother. Maybe you didn’t understand, what it was like to be a mother, but you think you could.

Because if you ever had a daughter, you knew you would love that person unconditionally without hesitation. So, why couldn’t she?

Pedro couldn’t understand it because like you if he had a daughter or even a son. He would love them unconditionally, just like he had tried to do with you. Like he was doing with you. Right now there was a hurting child in his arms and all he could think to do was comfort them even if he was fighting everything inside him to go punch your parents. He knew what he had to do at that moment, he had to comfort you because you needed him.

He kissed your temple, “She doesn’t deserve such a beautiful, intelligent, talented daughter like you and it hurts that she can’t see what I see.” He leaned back from the embrace, holding your head in his hands. “Just because someone shares your DNA doesn’t mean that they are family. If there is anything you have shown me in the time I’ve known you, it’s how to be a father to someone who isn’t even my own kid.”

You gave him a small smile as he wiped away a tear from your cheek with his thumb, “from here on out, we’re in this together, mija, okay?” you nodded.

Yeah, you really couldn’t understand it, but you didn’t have to because DNA didn’t mean they were truly your family. If there was anyone who actually knew you like the back of your hand, it was the man that was sitting beside you. The man who took time to be there for you when they couldn’t.

The man who knew what to say on your bad days and what not to say, who knew your favorite foods and knew your pet peeves, just like a father would. He knew what time you should go to bed for you to be not grumpy in the morning and he knew what subjects in school you needed help in the most.

And he mostly knew all of this in a short period of time. He spent time with you and not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. It didn’t take him long to create a bond with you and it didn’t take you long to consider him like a father.

“Okay,” you said softly. The pain would only be temporary, you knew that and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were still nervous about the outcome of the future, but you knew you had a small support system and that was all you needed.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnook @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r

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