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#i love i good father figure who hates kids and needs love
sparrowsarus · 3 days
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A defense of Ulder Ravengard
Ulder Ravengard starts his life as the 4th son of a blacksmith, and it is implied that Ravengard Senior talks in grunts, and hardly acknowledged his children.
So with that foundation, a young Ulder fucks off and joins the Flaming Fist--a mercenary company with an identity crisis, cops and soldiers and mercs, and damn is Baldur's Gate's government dysfunctional.
At some point, he falls in love with a woman named Francesca, who dies in childbirth. That's all we get of her--and that only if you happen to read some flavour text on Ulder's sword. He tells his crying son that it will be alright, and he doesn't seem to believe it.
It is much, much easier to get the other flavour text on Ulder's mace--how he didn't want to be like his father, but felt a distance between him and his newborn son. Some people say this is proof that Ulder never loved Wyll--I think it says he just lost the woman he loved, and was now facing single parenthood with no baseline to work off of. He was going to be doing this from scratch, with no help nor role model. He's going to be a little distraught!
But. He has his son. Who he takes to the harbour, and teaches to swordfight, and is really a very hands-on guy! His kid runs a little wild (having the childhood Ulder never got to have; maybe being a little too lenient, since Wyll's only a boy.)
And then he watches his boss, a beloved figure in the Gate and son of Bhaal, get ripped apart--and he can do nothing. Even as the new Marshal, trying to run an investigation with the God of Murder whispering paranoia in his ear.
There is hysteria. There are riots.
There are tribunals, and I won't defend them, but--Bhaal, trying to corrupt and coerce. It is important to remember--Ulder is a hero to the people of Baldur's Gate. He will go to the Gods when he dies. What a fantastic prize for the God of murder.
But Ulder manages to escape that fate, and at some point he becomes Grand Duke. A real success story--the poor blacksmith's boy becoming the leader of one of the Sword Coast's biggest cities. A position he had to fight for, because Baldur's Gate's politics are run by hereditary gentry and the wealthy guildleaders. Ulder Ravengard is an outsider, and the last commoner duke was aligned with devils.
And Wyll, his boy, learns to dance, and charm the Upper Crust of the Gate, and get into fights with his father--who had to learn politics, and to work with people he hated, because no, the Glorious Revolution will never come to pass. You need to work with people towards a common goal even when you hate them.
And one day, Ulder leaves for a meeting with another city's leader--
and when he gets back, his 17 year old son, his boy, the child his wife had died for--
has a devil with him and won't (can't, but Ulder doesn't know that yet) tell him what is going on. Wyll takes him to Dusthawk Hill, to see nothing.
So Ulder exiles him, because, again, devil.
(Sidenote: Devils in D&D are Ontologically Evil. Full stop. People who ally with them are generally assumed to be evil. Take it up with WoTC. UIder did nothing wrong regarding the exile, because he has to look out for an entire city, and Wyll was considered a grown man in his society by 15. This is not the actions of a child, and to treat it as such is a disservice to Wyll.)
(Wyll would always have to leave.)
And seven years later, Ulder Ravengard goes on a diplomatic visit, and gets dragged down to the Hells, along with the city of Elturel. He tries his best to save the city, to fight the demons, to manage the defenses. He tries so, so hard.
And once Elturel is restored, Ulder heads home.
(The tiefling refugees are headed to Baldur's Gate; I wonder if Ulder had promised safety? Sanctuary? A home less judgemental than Elturel?)
But on the way back to The Gate, Ulder is kidnapped, forcibly mind controlled, and damn near scrambles his brain fighting that control.
(Note: he tells Florrick to look for Wyll. He still believes there is some good in him, that Wyll is not wholly the devil's creature. But he's afraid, too, because if Wyll did it for a good reason? Ulder has failed. And you do not go from blacksmith's son to Grand Duke if you are tolerant of you own failures.
Wyll saves his father. Wyll proves he did what he thought was right.
Wyll gets an apology, and his father's support, either becoming a duke or becoming a ranger--everything Wyll wanted from his father..
And a family is rebuilt--different from before, but there is no harm in that. Both of them putting in the work to fix things, because you need to meet each other halfway--give the other person space to apologize, and forgive, because that's what they both wanted.
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cruelprincae · 6 months
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to be frank with you, this is the most bull thing I've ever read in my entire life.
#( 𝐈 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 ┊ out of character )#( tw: vent )#( PERSONALS DO NOT INTERACT. )#( would jude be the coldest of mothers? absolutely the woman has never known a tender touch and she parallels asha in many ways -#( - and her no 1 priority is elfhame but she would still move heaven and earth for her child like she does with oak. she cares#( and she loves. will it take a good while to warm up to the idea of a child and the child itself? yes. but it will not take from her love#( and until jude figures out her existential crisis the child will be absolutely ADORED by cardan. he will be the best dad#( hell he won't sleep until his baby is sleeping and even then he will stay up because “what if it needs something and i won't know?”#( he would give his heart and soul to his child to the point where the worst quality it will grow to have is to be absolutely SPOILED#( i mean the child will have some serious mummy issues but not to the point of “omg what will the world have to deal with” because#( cardan will be there to fill jude's absence and constantly tell the kid . like come on cardan came from a heavily neglected family do you#( oak is the way he is because he was raised by madoc who is a redcap and bloodthirsty & because he KNOWS his mother was murdered#( by his father because of him. it screwed him up. no amount of love by both jude and cardan can fix that so he shouldn't be compared#( also when they realised the closest thing they have to a son got kidnapped they “raised hell and earth to get him back” as per the synops#( so you don't get to tell me jurdan are awful parents. awful si the very last thing they'll be#( it's true not every couple needs to have a kid. but don't blame it to the parents because you as a reader hate the idea of it. grow up.
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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“just leave me alone!” 
megumi storms off towards his room as gojo’s easygoing expression falls away instantly, leaving you conflicted as to who you should check on first. (which is difficult to do when you remember that thirteen year old boys hate talking about their emotions almost as much as twenty-five year old ones do.)
you decide that megumi needs a few minutes to cool down, so you step into the kitchen first, where your fiancé is tearing open a new bag of candy a little more harshly than necessary. you lean your hip against the counter as he murmurs a greeting. 
“what was that about?” you ask. 
“he hates me,” he shrugs. 
“he’s a thirteen year old boy. he hates everybody,” you point out, but it fails to make him laugh like you’d intended. instead, his frown only deepens and he mutters,
“he doesn’t hate you.” 
you tilt your head slightly. “is that what this is about? me being his favourite?”
“i don’t know,” he sighs. “i…i just can’t seem to connect with him the way you’ve always been able to.”
“that’s not true,” you say quickly, unsure of what exactly you can say to make him feel better. it’s not like him to be so insecure. “you guys have had your moments.”
“not lately. i just keep pissing him off,” he huffs, unwrapping and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “did i do something?” 
you open up the fridge to pull some ingredients for lunch, sighing. “i don’t think so, but nanami, shoko, and i were texting about it the other day—”
“wait, you’re in a group chat with nanami and shoko?”
“oh yeah,” you nod, setting your vegetables on the counter. “it’s mostly memes, but sometimes we talk about how messed up you are.”
he blinks at you a few times before muttering that you’d get back to that later. “what’d they say?” 
“they quoted a lot of freud, but the gist of it was that it’s normal for fathers and sons to butt heads.”
he frowns deeply at that. “so what should i do?”
“be patient. he’ll come around eventually.”
“easy for you to say,” he huffs. “you’re the only mother figure he’s ever known. he’s already had a dad.”
“satoru, he’s thirteen. he’s officially been with us longer than he was with toji.” 
you study his conflicted expression as he turns that information over in his mind. “okay, how about this? i was going to take him to the mall to buy new clothes after lunch, but why don’t you go with him instead?”
“that’s a great idea!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together excitedly. “i’ll take him to the bookstore too! can you find out what’s on his reading list?” 
“he’s not a little kid anymore,” you remind him. “you can’t just buy his affection with a new book.”
“i’ll buy him two, then.” 
“i love where your heart is at,” you start slowly. “but you just…have to give him space to let him come to you.”
he groans loudly, coming up behind you to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. you smile, tilting your head to the side and reaching up to pat his hair. 
“i guess this is good practice for when we have our own kid,” he mutters, stiffening when he feels your hand still in his hair.
“our own kid, huh? so does that mean you’re done bringing home strays?” 
“you three are all i need,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “whatever happens next…is just a bonus.” 
BONUS:
[you] [1 attachment]
[nanami] Why is he dressed like Gojo?
[shoko]: like father like son huh
[you] satoru had a quarter-life crisis yesterday. just a small one. 
[shoko] i’m not surprised. his life is like a shakespearean tragedy.
[nanami] That is accurate.
[you] he’s trying to bond with megumi.
[shoko] by dressing him like he’s emotionally unavailable?
[you] what does that even mean?
[shoko] the sunglasses
[you] ?
[nanami] Elaborate further, please.
[shoko] eyes are the windows to the soul. 
[nanami] (the more you know gif)
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moonsgemini · 6 months
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cinnamon girl - rafe cameron
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summary: hating rafe cameron was easy to do when you were both teenagers, but after years a part and time spent thinking about one another one thing leads to another. Secret rendezvous between kook prince and kook princess ensue, finding any spare minute to be with each other without the judgey eyes of outer banks.
warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem reader, she/her, p in v, praise kink, semi public sex (a bunch of people are downstairs), fingering, oral f receiving, dirty talk, sneaking around, secret relationship, cussing, alcohol, enemies to lovers kinda
wc: 3.5k
an: another smutty smut. I have had this in my drafts for a bit & I just needed to finish it. It started out as being inspired by cinnamon girl by lana but I like don’t know what happened. also two posts in one day ???? who am I.
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In high school when y/n read Romeo and Juliet she fell in love with the tragic romance. She was astounded that love could be so intense and passionate. So much so that they were sneaking around behind everyone’s backs and the miscommunication ultimately leading to their deaths.
When she was sixteen she met Rafe Cameron. When her father introduced her to the tall blonde she didn’t think he would eventually be her Romeo. Especially not since he didn’t even smile or show the slightest interest in her. Their fathers had recently worked on a business deal together and had got along so well they wanted their families to get together.
She knew who he was and what he was like. Rumors run rampant on the figure eight. He constantly had snarky comments and remarks to make at her. Whether it be about her outfit, her likes, and especially about the boys she dated. y/n would be talking to Sarah about the boy she just went on a date with and Rafe would butt in with his two cents. He was a year older than her and he always made sure to act like he knew better because he was older.
“Fabian? You do know he like has dated half the cheer and volleyball teams,” Rafe scoffed as he stood in front of her and Sarah who were sat on the pool chairs outside. He had overheard y/n talking about the new guy she was seeing and Rafe couldn’t believe who the guy was. He also couldn’t believe she was dating at all.
Y/n looked at him with a glare, “I don’t remember asking for your input.”
“You could really use it though. Seems like you’re pretty fucking clueless at the fact that you’re a lot better than that asshole,” He rolled his eyes annoyed at the fact she couldn’t see how this escapade will end in heart break. He was only looking out for her so he doesn’t understand why she was so annoyed.
She chuckled bitterly, “Yeah like you care, besides I can find out for myself Rafe. I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me or not.”
Rafe rolled his eye because to him he did know what was good for her and Fabian was not. “Well when he ends up hurting you I’ll be ready to tell you I told you so,” He smirked taking a sip of his beer and walking away.
Sarah scoffed muttering, “Hate him.”
Y/n sighed watching him walk away and talk to her dad, “Couldn’t agree with you more.”
The first few years she knew Rafe she hated him. As much as you could hate him. He had always been extremely handsome, something she definitely noticed, and as he got older he became even hotter. In front of her parents he was charming and they interpreted his cocky demeanor as confidence. Whenever she complained about the Cameron boy being a prick they said they liked that Rafe knew what he wanted and always went for it, something that y/n could learn from him.
After she went away to college these family dinners became much smaller with only the parents and younger siblings. The kids having grown up and gone their own ways. Rafe was always on the mainland taking care of his dad’s business. Sarah had gone off to college so it was practically an empty nest. Occasionally during holiday breaks Sarah and y/n would join them for game night or dinner but Rafe still wasn’t around much.
She couldn’t lie and say he didn’t swim in her thoughts every now and then. Okay maybe more often then she’d like. Especially when he’d post on instagram and his bright smile would infect her mind on the nights she couldn’t fall asleep. She wondered if he ever thought about her but she doubted it since they never liked each other.
Rafe thought about her every day. Whenever he’d see her dad he’d find a way to bring her into conversation. He knew she was coming back soon and he made a note in his calendar to free his schedule on family dinner day because he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Even if she probably didn’t want to see him because he remembers her hatred for him when they were teenagers. It makes a smirk appear on his lips as he thought about y/n rolling her eyes and sending witty comebacks his way.
-
It was winter break of her junior year of college when she made if back to the outer banks.
Y/n was surprised to see him drinking a glass of scotch with her dad and Ward as she walked downstairs. Her family was hosting dinner that time. Her first thought when she spotted hime was person he was even more handsome. His boyish look almost completely gone now that he was a man. She noticed he had been working out because his chest and shoulders seemed broader. Could have even gotten taller?
“Hey there she is,” Ward said as she made it all the way down the steps.
She smiled politely and joked, “Here I am, hope you didn’t miss me too much.”
Rafe smirked taking a sip from his glass. After Ward asked her more questions about college and the internship she was starting on the mainland that following summer. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her as she talked to his dad. Seeing him had felt different that time. There was something different in the air.
During dinner they both stole glances at each other. Sometimes when she’d catch him staring at her he wouldn’t look away. Locking his eyes with her smirking and sipping on his second glass of scotch. His long fingers wrapped around the glass grabbed her attention. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. No guys she knew in college drank scotch, because none of them were men like him.
He couldn’t believe how much more beautiful she had gotten in the last three years. She was a woman now and she held herself with so much more confidence than when she was seventeen. Rafe liked that.
“Oh honey give Rafe a tour of the new wine cellar. It is so magnificent our architect is amazing, maybe you’ll like him for a new Cameron employee,” Y/n’s mom said to the young adults who had been eye fucking for the last forty minutes. Y/n’s mom had been feeling her second glass of wine now which led to her being all giddy and generous. It’s always what her mom did. So whenever they went to charity events her mom just needed a glass of wine to sign a check for $10,000.
She was also an avid wine collector so for the last year they had been building a wine cellar under the house. It turned out beautiful. All wood and the lighting was moody. There were racks of wines all around the room and a few in the middle creating ailse. There were also a few big wooden support beams.
“Sure mom. Follow me,” Y/n said nodding her head towards the back. He smirked standing up and following her a few paces behind so he could stare at her back side. She led him out to the side of the house where the entrance was. If her mom knew what she ultimately helped happen she’d kill the both of them. Mostly for committing such a sin next to her most prized possessions.
Ten minutes into the tour Rafe had y/n pinned against one of those wooden beams. Her legs wrapped around his waist with her hands in his hair tugging whenever he’d hit that spot she could never reach on her own. No college guy she had been with was ever able to hit that spot either. Their breaths mixed together as their faces were close together, y/n’s skirt bunched around her waist. One of his hands was under her shirt tweaking her nipple.
His dick inside of her smoothly sliding in and out as he fucked her. Rafe knew he would never forget this moment. Never forget just how wet she had been, all the noises she was making sounding heavenly.
The first time was erotic. Years of built up sexual tension was finally getting released and it felt so good. His hands, his lips, his body felt better than she could ever have imagined.
When they were done Rafe kissed her, lips slotting naturally with her like they always belonged there. She was worried it was a one time thing but he wasn’t acting like it. That bubble of anxiety in her chest popping as he continued to be sweet to her. He had slowly pulled out and set her down gently. Tugging her skirt back down and helping her step into her panties he had tugged off in a frenzy. He fixed himself as she fixed her hair and makeup.
“That’s not the last time that’s gonna happen,” He said breaking the silence, “I like you too much to let you go.”
-
Since the first night they hooked up they have been sneaking around behind their families backs seeing each other. Rafe flew and road tripped to her apartment more times that winter and spring than he can count. When she came back for the summer he was practically living at her house. He’d sneak in at night like they were teenagers and he’d sleep over or stay up talking with her until she fell asleep then he’d sneak out. Or sometimes (a lot of times) they’d be doing something else that involved rafe’s mouth on her.
When y/n got her internship he’d meet her for lunch. They’d hangout in secluded areas on the beach and whenever they wanted to have a nice date night they’d stay a few cities over for the weekend to be alone and be a couple in public. For her birthday Rafe took her to the Amalfi coast for a few days where they spent most of the time on a boat, in a pool, or in bed having amazing sex. Y/n told her parents she was going to the lake for the weekend where she’d barely have service. Somehow they believed it.
They kept it a secret not because their families would be upset. It’s the opposite actually, they’d be too excited. Then there would be all this pressure on their relationship. The mom’s and Ward would be urging Rafe to propose because their families merging would make them look incredibly good and powerful in the developing industry. They’d want a huge wedding with a bunch of people they don’t know. There’d start to be talk about grand babies. All of figure eight would be talking about the kook prince and princess dating and on their way to live off their trusts. It would just be too much.
It was the last dinner party of the summer and Y/n was giddy. She hadn’t seen Rafe in two weeks because he had gone away on a business trip with his dad and then she had gone on to see her grandparents in New York. It was the most time they had spent a part in the last four months.
Tonight would be the last night they see each other for another couple weeks while y/n moves into her senior year apartment and settles into school. Rafe knew how important school was to her so he wanted to give her space to settle which she was grateful for because pre law was not easy. It would also be too suspicious if he randomly showed up to help while her parents are there.
This was a big dinner party so it was perfect. Y/n’s parents were hosting so it was all perfect. Every big family on Figure Eight, even the ones who only summer there, was at her house. The house was filled with many distractions since her mother also loved collecting art. No one would see them sneak upstairs to her room, especially with all the wine that’s being consumed.
Rafe had been dreaming about touching her since he last saw her. Oh and when he saw her he didn’t even waste a moment. As soon as he saw an opportunity to drag her upstairs to her bedroom he did. It was when appetizers were brought out and everyone had gathered outside. Y/n smirked the whole time knowing he wanted her as bad as she wanted him. Her short dress definitely did the job it was supposed to when she spotted his hard on when he first grabbed her.
His eagerness showing when he practically slammed her against the inside of the bedroom door. His lips on hers with fervor. They moved expertly against each other. Immediately finding their rhythm, no matter how many times they have each other it’s never enough.
His hands sliding down her waist and slowly going under her sundress. That’s when he feels nothing. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He instantly got harder and groaned into her mouth.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” He mumbled as he began trailing kisses down her neck.
Her hands tugged at his hair, “I missed you Rafey,” she whined not even feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about her eagerness. She had missed him so much.
He began walking her towards the bed. His lips still latching onto any exposed skin on her chest. They kicked their shoes off in the process, Rafe undid a few more buttons of his shirt. His tanned broad chest making her breathing uneven. When her knees hit the end of the bed she sat back crawling backwards towards the pillows. He followed her his knees spreading her legs.
“I missed you baby,” He gently cupped her face and stroked her cheek softly, “I can’t wait to make you cum.”
The soft gesture with the dirty words made her cheeks feel hot. That devilish smirk appearing on Rafe’s face like he knew that would happen. And that’s because he did know. Rafe knew her body and he knows just what to do to make her squirm. He looked too hot for her to even care how dirty he sounded. Sometimes she’d shy away but other times it made her putty in his hands. Y/n reached forward kissing him not so gently. They’d have time for the lovey dovey stuff later.
He began kissing down her body. Her chin then her neck, paying attention to that spot that made her hips jerk up for relief. His hand were gliding up her legs pushing her dress up around her waist in the process.
Rafe kissed her shoulders as he pushed her straps down in a teasing manor. He kissed her collarbones then her chest. Finally moving to her stomach and her pelvic bone. Oh had he missed this. His hands moved to her knees spreading her legs wider.
Y/n’s hands were in his hair already tugging. Giving an even harder tug when he reach forward giving her a teasing lick. She had to cover her mouth with one hand to not be loud.
Rafe wanted to tease her but he just couldn’t resist. He dove right in. His tongue finding her clit immediately, moving his tongue in circles. He alternated between that and licking down her slit. Tongue teasing her entrance. It was all so euphoric.
Her back arched off her bed. Y/n tried her best to keep quiet but a few moans slipped out. She hoped the chatter and music playing downstairs was enough to cover her noises. Rafe hummed against her core making the feeling even more intense.
“Oh god Rafey,” She sighed dreamily, “I missed your mouth. Know just what to do.”
He lives for the praise. It boosted his ego and encouraged him to do better and outdo himself. Hearing her breathy wins and moans muffled by her own hand were making him impossibly hard.
As he sucked and licked her clit he reached around and abruptly slipped a finger into her wet center. Her thighs practically suffocating him as he moved in and out of her touching that perfect spot inside of her. He always made her cum and he always did it fast. Before she met Rafe she had only ever finished with her own hand or vibrator.
“I’m gonna cum!” She whisper shouted.
Rafe moaned, “Cum for me baby.”
It felt like electricity was going through her body as she came. His movements relentless until he knew she was satisfied. He began to slow down as she came down, leaving her with one final lick. He kissed the inside of her thighs softly before crawling up to her again. She pulled him forward needing his lips on hers. She moaned at her taste on his tongue.
“I need to be inside you,” Rafe groaned as he felt one of her hands reach down and palm him through his pants.
“Please fuck me,” She batted her eyelashes at him knowing it always got her what she wanted.
He groaned again before sitting back on his feet so he can unbutton the rest of his shirt. Y/n sat up pulling her dress all the way off. Rafe made quick work of his pants pulling them down his legs.
His member slapped against his stomach, her mouth watering at the sight. Rafe was created with care, everything about him was perfect to her. He grabbed his length pumping it a few times before he rubbed his tip through her folds. Spreading her wetness around, his eyes rolled back at the feeling.
“Oh please please put it in,” She whined, “I need you so bad Rafey.”
“Baby your wish is my command,” He smirked and thrusted into her slowly pushing in inch by inch.
“Yes yes yes yes,” She chanted in pure bliss. Y/n didn’t care how desperate she sounded.
Rafe sighed as he began moving slowly. She was so tight and warm, even better than he remembered. He knew he wasn’t going to last long but he would make sure she came again before he did at all. He hit that spot inside of her that made her eye’s roll back and toes curl.
“Taking me so good my love,” Rafe encouraged as he picked up speed.
He grabbed one of her boobs and brushed his thumb over her hardened nipple. He leaned down and placed the other one in his mouth sucking and licking gently. All of the stimulation had her body feeling like it was on fire. He released it with a pop and went back to capture her lips in his. Y/n’a hands gripped his hair and clawed his back
“I’m gonna cum babe,” She moaned, “Yes right there, oh oh god.”
“Yeah baby cum for me,” He sighed, “Fuck I’m gonna cum too.”
Her eyes rolled back at his words, “Please cum in me, fill me up please please,” she blubbered feeling overwhelmed by the orgasm that was about to take over her body. The sounds of his deck sliding in and out of her wet pussy made him reach the edge. Everything about her was so sexy from the noises she made to the way she looked sprawled out below him.
Her words made him pick up his pace pounding into her. He felt her clench around him knowing she was coming. She moaned and scratched his back as she came. Biting her lip to not let anymore loud noises slip out of her. He came inside of her with a groan. Rafe continued to pump in and out of her slowing down as he came down from his high.
He swore he could cum again just looking at her all fucked out. Her hair all over the place, lipstick smudged and probably all over his face.
After a few minutes of catching their breaths Rafe pulled out gently. A whine leaving her lips at the empty feeling. Rafe got up going to her bathroom to get a towel to clean her up. When he came back he dabbed her center cleaning up.
“I missed you so much Rafe,” Y/n said breaking the silence.
He leaned forward kissing her knee, “I missed you more my love.”
“You think anyone heard?”
He shrugged, “Don’t think so. If they did then oops.”
She laughed, “Don’t say that Rafe, then we will get caught.”
He smirked as he laid next to her again opening his arms as an invitation that she gladly took. Resting her head on his chest and he leg wrapped around his waist. One of his hands stroking her hair and the other rubbing up and down her body slowly feeling all her exposed skin.
“Lets lay a few minutes then get back to hearing my dad talk about business for hours,” Y/n said savoring the feeling of laying with him.
“I love you,” He kissed the crown of her head a few times.
She smiled, “I love you. Sneak over tonight?” She asked looking up at him hopefully.
“Read my mind,” He smirked.
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andypantsx3 · 8 months
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DEAD RECKONING : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER
SUMMARY: A makeup artist at a haunted maze, all you want to do is make it to the end of the season with a little extra cash in your pocket and no murder convictions on your record. Scare actor Todoroki Touya makes that last part a challenge. (7.8k) CONTENT & WARNINGS: no quirks au, halloween, enemies to lovers, fem + afab reader, slight scumbag touya, haunted maze workers, smut, semi-public sex, smoking, heavy swearing, touya likes having his hair pulled + girls who are a little mean to him, sort of good girl vs bad boy vibes, 18+ minors please dni NOTES: Happy Halloween from me!! This fic is part of the Willow's Haunted House collab. Dedicated to cat-slippered and ofmermaidstories, for workshopping what eventually became this fic with me about a thousand years ago. I’m sorry I turned Bakugou into Dabi. And I’m sorry for dedicating the now Dabi fic to you. But not sorry enough to not have done it. Love you. :)
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If there was one thing you hated about Halloween, it was Todoroki Touya.
Shockingly, this was not a commonly-held sentiment, which was the only reason there even was a recurrence of Todoroki Touya darkening your Halloween seasons in the first place.
For the last three years, you’d spent your fall semester working as a makeup artist at the Musutafu haunted maze alongside a slew of other college and local kids looking to make a little extra cash. The hours were fairly flexible, and the wage covered your textbooks, with a little left over to keep you in the occasional coffee between lectures.
But your wages did not nearly cover the amount of psychic damage you had been dealt, managing Todoroki Touya’s obnoxious, sarcastic, chain-smoking ass day after day for seasons on end.
On lucky days, someone else was on Touya duty. But on unlucky ones, you found him sprawling in the plastic makeup chair opposite you, those intense blue eyes tracking you with no small amount of pleasure, like he was this afternoon.
You stopped in the doorway, a curse slipping out of you. You’d been hoping that you’d get lucky today, as the day was otherwise an excellent one. You’d invited a group of friends to do the maze with you after you got off shift, and you had been looking forward to it all week.
But it figured Touya could never let you have too good of a time.
“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he drawled over the noise of displeasure that escaped you. He was at least already dressed in costume, so he wouldn’t go smearing his makeup as he pulled it on, a tumble of stitches and frayed edges that had once been a dark-blue duster, but now just mostly gaped open to show the hard planes of his chest.
“I’m so sure,” you told him, averting your eyes from his pecs. You sighed, resigning yourself to his presence, and made your way in, dumping your bag on the staff room couch.
“This is a very hostile work environment you’re creating,” Touya rasped, his grin sharp. Years of chain-smoking outside the maze had left his voice even lower and raspier than when you’d first met him three years ago.
“Don’t worry, it can always get more hostile,” you told him, affecting your own sweet grin as you moved over to the vanity, digging through all the makeup and prosthetics for the ones he’d need.
Touya himself was severely scarred, which was likely why he’d applied to work at the haunted maze in the first place. You’d never asked him about his scars, but you’d heard enough gossip from the other maze workers to know that they were the product of a childhood accident, involving the burning down of his father’s—the then-and-current mayor’s—house.
He’d accentuated them with a shit load of facial piercings, and was sort of off-putting to look at the first time you caught a glimpse of him. The issue was that, once your eyes made sense of what they were seeing, he was infuriatingly handsome.
You’d heard he’d initially been unleashed on the maze with no makeup or prosthetics, and within the first evening was causing line backups, with all the parties of teen girls who were taking a little too much time lingering around his section of the maze.
So now he was subjected to prosthetics to make him uglier, a fact that he seemed to absolutely relish.
You dug out the monster prosthetic pack that gave him jutting forehead ridges. “Let’s make the outside reflect the inside, shall we,” you told him as you flapped the rubbery pieces at him, smirking your own little smirk.
Touya’s answering grin was wicked, and he relaxed back in his seat, sprawling his legs out wide in that infuriating way men had. “Think my outside is too pretty then, huh?” he asked, sapphire eyes flickering over you.
Your face went hot in a weird combination of anger and embarrassment. “I try not to think of your outside,” you told him pertly, making sure to slap the forehead piece onto him hard enough to make a splat noise.
His mouth twitched again but he let you go to work, gluing the pieces down against his face, careful not to press them to the seams of any of his scars. He was tall enough even lounging in his seat that you only had to lean over a little to focus clearly on his face, all long legs and rangy muscle.
This close, he always smelled like cigarette smoke, with an undercurrent of something rich and dark, like cinnamon or chocolate. You could never put your finger on it, but you were not about to go sniffing him at any length to figure it out, even if it was annoyingly appealing.
He’d probably love that, and would absolutely never let you live it down.
Touya’s eyes tracked you closely as you worked, but otherwise his expression was still, and you thought not for the first time that it really was too bad he was so obnoxious. He was actually quite handsome, with a soft, sensuous mouth, a blade-straight nose, and vivid blue eyes that all but glowed like the embers of a crackling fire when he was provoking you.
It was a shame he wasted all his beauty being the most annoying man on earth.
You’d heard from the other maze workers that he was relatively well-known around the area, having spent his teen years doing petty criminal shit to destabilize his father’s reelection campaigns, netting himself several jail stays and a record a mile long. He’d settled somewhat since he’d gotten a job at a piercing parlor downtown and several side gigs like the maze, but people weren’t fully convinced he’d abandoned his old ways, and he still clearly relished any opportunity to discomfort and destabilize anyone who got on his bad side.
Apparently including you.
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard, sweetheart,” Touya said, those cerulean eyes blinking up at you.
You realized you’d paused over him, midway through blending his prosthetic forehead in, and another annoying little smirk rode his mouth.
You took care to roll your eyes at him, gesturing at him with your brush. “I know several places I can stick this if you’re not careful.”
Touya’s smirk melted into an unholy grin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he rasped, eyes glittering up at you.
You went back to work on him with a little more force than necessary, blending hard enough that you saw his broad shoulders shift in an effort to keep his neck braced. “I doubt any time with you could be classed as good,” you said pertly, giving a final few brushes before stepping back, satisfied with your work.
The forehead made him look unhinged as he offered another smirk, leaning forward. “True—the feedback I usually get is ‘incredible’, ‘mind-blowing’, ‘earth-shattering’, ‘toe-curling’, ‘scream-inducing’—”
“Oh I’ll scream if you keep talking,” you said hotly, even as your cheeks warmed. Even with the stupid fucking forehead he was annoyingly handsome. You needed him a thousand million miles away from you before you herniated something, jumping back and forth between annoyance and attraction.
Maybe it was time to stop signing up to work here.
“Now get out of my room, I have other people waiting,” you commanded, thankful when you heard the scuff of a boot at the door confirming another maze worker waiting.
Touya didn’t look at all chastened, but he unfolded himself from the chair in an unfurling of broad shoulders and long legs. He leaned in close as he passed, voice dipping low. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said, a smile curling his mouth.
Annoyingly, his proximity crossed a bunch of the wires in your brain, and you fumbled before managing, “Not if we’re both lucky.”
“Stop, I’ll blush,” he drawled, another unholy grin splitting his cheeks before he saluted two fingers at you and ducked out of the room. The scent of smoke and cinnamon followed him, and you let out a sigh of relief, the air and your brain clearer now that he was gone.
No sooner were you free of him, however, than another problem was immediately introduced.
“So…he actually talks to you?” The other maze worker’s head poked through the door, her eyes resting on you intently. You recognized her as a local highschooler who’d just joined this season, who usually ended up getting in early enough to get her makeup done by the other artist.
You blinked. “I…unfortunately?” you answered, confused.
She stepped into the room, and you reflexively gestured her over to the chair that Touya had just abandoned.
She hummed as she took her seat, eyeing you curiously. “Wow. How’d you get him to do that? He doesn’t really talk to any of us,” she informed you.
You could feel your eyebrows lift towards your hairline. “He…doesn’t…?”
She shook her head, her pretty golden ringlets swaying with the motion. “He’ll chainsmoke with Tomura and he sometimes talks to Himiko. But the other girls—they say he just laughs and walks away if they try to chat with him.”
Well. That sounded rude enough to be true to form, you thought. But when Touya was in your makeup chair you couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. You shifted, uncomfortable with the idea that Touya had any special soft spot for you. Maybe, like a cat, he could sense who didn’t much like him and decided to latch on out of spite.
“You might be a little young for him,” you decided, going over to the vanity and digging out the prosthetics she’d need—a witch chin and a raised gorey slash that would open along one cheekbone.
“No—it’s all the other girls too. And most of the guys,” she told you. “He must like you.”
A laugh escaped you, and you turned back to her with the prosthetics in hand, a few new brushes and a white, cakey paint palette shoved beneath your elbow.
“I don’t think he likes anyone,” you told her, setting everything down and applying the tacky glue to the underside of her chin prosthetic. “I think he just likes to inflict himself on people he knows it will annoy. You could act disinterested in talking to him and he’d probably come flitting right over.” The image of Touya suffering at the hands of a league of flirty high school girls pleased you—better they suck up his time and energy than you.
“I don’t know,” the girl said uncertainly. “Maybe he likes you.” But she was forced to leave it at that once you started applying her chin, making it difficult for her to speak.
You certainly didn’t think that was the case.
But the seeds of doubt had already been sown, a question that you thought would probably haunt your evening now that it had been formed. Just why did Touya talk to you if he was so standoffish with other people? And what did it mean that he made such a point of it?
You knew for sure it wasn’t because he liked you, his obnoxious manner said that well enough. But why did you get treatment that was significant enough that even the other maze workers would comment on it?
And, perhaps even more concerningly, why did the thought agitate you so much?
You decided to try your best not to think about it, and have a good time with your friends once they got there, putting Touya out of your mind. You returned to doing the girl’s makeup with vigor, suddenly as eager to get her out of your chair as you had been Touya.
She was finished in record time and she thanked you, carefully not to smile too widely lest she dislodge the prosthetics. You took in the next person waiting as she left, slowly working your way through the line of people as the hour drew ever closer to the maze’s evening opening time.
Eventually you finished up and collected your things, making your way out front to find your friends already waiting for you. They’d clearly dressed with the intent to go out after—something you hadn’t considered—their dresses short and slinky and their makeup smoky. You’d have liked to have joined, but you were still in the sweater and leggings you’d come straight from lectures in.
Maybe you would have time to go home and change after the maze.
You were scooped up into several hugs, breathing in the sweet scents of various perfumes, and informed that you absolutely did have to go home and get changed after so you could come out and get “Hallowasted!” too.
“Okay if I’m not busy peeing my pants, which monsters are the ones you did?” your roommate asked, dancing around to warm herself in the cool fall air. “I wanna see ‘em.”
You named several of your creations, conveniently leaving off Touya. You knew that if your friends took too close a look at him and figured out what he looked like under the cakey makeup and forehead prosthetic, they’d never leave the maze. You knew he sat somewhere around the end of the set up, in an alcove that had been decorated to look like an abandoned village with burned out cabins, a mess of bones dotting the ground at the side of the walkway.
You were also hoping you could pass unnoticed in the group of your friends, as there was no doubt in your mind that Touya would take special care to annoy you in particular. So you did not want your group to linger long enough for your friends to scope him out.
You would know it was him under the makeup you’d done yourself, but being cornered somewhere in the dark with the soundtrack of screams echoing in your ears would not exactly have you feeling your boldest.
Your group had dinner at the food trucks parked out front, chatting and laughing and waiting for the crowds to die down, each indulging in one drink for bravery before joining the line. Eventually you ended up at the front of the queue, late in the evening, your friends crowding in behind you, whispering nervously.
“You first,” your roommate hissed when you looked back at them questioningly. “You work here, you have to do the honors.”
You sighed, accepting your fate, making a mental note to subtly shift to the back of the pack as you made it further into the maze.
Then you were being greeted by Shigaraki Tomura, whose makeup you’d done last. He’d been given layers of prosthetic peeling skin and a scar at his mouth, and he was decorated with a layer of disembodied hands gripping him all over. He shredded your tickets, looking unenthused.
“Remember that inside the maze, none of the monsters can touch you,” he recited dully. “You are not permitted to touch them in return; do not hit, kick, push, bite, slap, lick, scratch, or otherwise assault the actors. Don’t tamper with the props, do not leave items behind. Be respectful of other guests and do not linger too long in the rooms. If you need to leave for any reason, every room or alcove has clearly-lit exits marked in red.”
His eyes briefly met yours as he waved you through, and you thought you saw a pale brow go up.
But then you were being shoved forward by your friends, several hands clinging to your arms and the back of your shirt, and you stepped forward into the dark of the hall.
The maze truly was a labyrinth—it started indoors in a pitch black room, with fake body bags hanging from the ceiling. Toga Himiko, a highschooler whose makeup you usually did, stalked you around the edges of the room, dressed in a torn school uniform with fangs peeking out of her widely grinning mouth, and a dripping knife clutched eagerly in her fingers.
Once you made it past her, the maze spilled outdoors, into a tangle of hedges and artificially-constructed set, steering you in twisting loops around the property.
You were pleased with how terrifying all the actors looked, even having done most of their prosthetics yourself, and found your heart racing as you took every new corner, found yourself freezing up and stumbling back whenever someone jumped out at you, suppressing a shriek.
Your friends participated with gusto, shrieking and ducking away from the monsters, holding you like a human shield between them and the maze workers. You would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so funny.
You made it through most of the maze with little trouble, passing through a haunted swamp, a graveyard with mummies twisting and screaming in their bindings, grasping for you. You stumbled past a man wielding a chainsaw and a set of clowns waving axes, making it through in record time thanks to the push of your frantic friends behind you.
It was only on the last leg of the maze that you finally ran into Touya.
You peered around the corner, recognizing the set up instantly. The burned out houses flickered with blue flame, lighting up the set in an eerie, unsettling sapphire light. The fake bones on the ground sat in piles of ash, glowing stark white in the light. You couldn’t spot Touya anywhere, and you slowly crept forward, trying to shepherd your friends in front of you.
You even almost thought you had been successful, until a rasping voice drawled behind you, “Hello sweetheart.”
And then your roommate screamed, bolting forward, knocking into you and sending you stumbling over a pile of the fake bones. You landed hard on your ass in the patchy grass, the wind punching out of you.
“Oh fuck—” you heard one of your friends say as she too was steamrolled, and you watched the group of them trip over one another in their desperation to get through the alcove, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds.
You quickly tried to get to your feet to follow, but a hiss forced its way through your teeth when you tried your ankle, a wave of sharp pain washing over you.
Oh fuck. Not good.
The tread of a boot in the grass next to you made you jump, and your head whipped up to catch sight of Touya crouching over you.
“You good down there?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the dark of the maze, and the blue light cast shadows over his features, twisting them in the dim. Your heartbeat picked up, even as your brain recognized him for who he was.
You cringed, embarrassed that you’d had to hurt yourself in his part of the maze specifically. It figured.
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to climb to your feet again. Your ankle twinged in protest, and Touya must have caught the flash of pain on your face because then his hand was under your elbow, supporting you as you rose in an unexpected show of courtesy.
Although he broke the illusion immediately when he opened his mouth again.
“Yeah you look real fine,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. With the prosthetic forehead it made him look sort of demented.
“Well I’ll be fine,” you insisted, even as those blue eyes flickered over you assessingly. His fingers tightened a little on your arm before he bent down, tapping his other hand on your leg.
“Which leg, sweetheart?” he asked. “And where?”
It took you a minute to catch up to what he was asking, confused at seeing him on his haunches before you. A scream went up in the background, some terrified maze goer, and a little shiver went down your spine.
“Uh, the left ankle,” you supplied, startling when Touya’s fingers slid underneath the cuff of your legging over the aforementioned ankle, rolling it up gently. You blinked, surprised at the careful touch.
“Can’t see too well in the dark,” he announced. “But it looks like you ripped it open on something.” He peered back up at you. “Think it’s sprained?”
You shook your head. “Probably just rolled. It hurts but not like go-to-the-hospital level,” you said. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be good.”
Touya considered you for a moment, then got to his feet, moving closer. That scent of smoke and cinnamon drifted over to you, and he bent his head to look into your face.
“Much as you’re the most terrifying thing in this maze, I don’t think people are gonna wanna see you here,” he told you, a smirk cutting into his mouth. “Would ruin the experience. So we’re gonna have to get you out of here.”
You scowled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Well no thanks for the concern, then. “I’m going, I’m going, keep your shirt on,” you told him, preemptively gritting your teeth before readying yourself to take another step.
But before you could, one of Touya’s hands was suddenly sliding under your knees, his other slipping behind your shoulder. In the next second the burning buildings were swinging wildly in front of your eyes, and then you were being hefted up into Touya’s arms. You let out a startled yelp, your own hands shooting out to grab his jacket, giving him a wild-eyed look.
“Touya—!” you garbled out, as a smile pulled at his expression.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he told you, looking a little too smug about the situation he’d just put you in. He strode towards the exit, kicking the door open with a heavy boot, carrying you down the hall and back into the building. He was hard with wiry muscle underneath you, and so deliciously warm against you. Your ears went hot with every sure, easy step he took, like carrying you was little effort for him.
Thankfully it was barely a minute before you reached the staff room, where Touya laid you out gently on the couch, much more carefully than you might have expected from him.
Your cheeks and your nose burned, flaming even hotter when he squatted down in front of you and took your ankle in his hand again.
His dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took note of your injury. In the light you could definitely see that you’d caught your ankle bone on one of the fake bones you’d tripped over, as there was a long gash up the side of it, but nothing else looked bruised or otherwise concerning. You thought you’d probably be fine in a couple hours, just a roll.
It was definitely nothing Touya had needed to princess carry you through the staff halls for!
“Don’t move,” Touya told you, and you watched, bewildered, as he stepped away, stalking over to the other side of the room where the staff lockers were. He dug out a shabby backpack, pulling something out of it, and then returned to your side, spreading out his haul on the couch next to you.
You noted a little tube of rubbing alcohol, an antiseptic cream and a bandage, as well as an ice pack. One of your eyebrows went up.
“You rob a hospital or something?” you asked reflexively, heart fluttering a little bit weirdly when Touya’s eyes flickered back up to yours. His eyelashes were long and thick, startlingly pretty.
“Nah,” he said, his gaze cutting suddenly away from yours. “Usually keep shit on hand for my burns.”
Your stomach flipped, and you realized how rude your question had been. Embarrassment welled up in a hard lump in your throat. Well shit. “Oh—fuck. Of course. I’m sorry, Touya.”
A pinch to your leg had you yelping, and his handsome face was serious when he stared back up at you, his eyes practically glowing with intensity. “I don’t need your sympathy.”
You rolled your eyes, rubbing the skin he’d pinched absentmindedly. “It wasn’t sympathy, asshole,” you said. “It was an apology for being thoughtless. Although if that’s how you’re gonna be then I take it back, geez. As if you need sympathy when every girl in this maze—” you froze, clamping your mouth shut when you realized what you’d been about to say. “Uhhhh.”
Touya’s eyes slowly slid down your face, flickering over you as another fucking obnoxious smirk started to twitch at the side of his mouth. “When every girl in this maze what?” he asked, pleasure turning his tone a little silky.
You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to grab the rubbing alcohol off of the couch so you didn’t have to look at him. “When every girl in this maze would like for you to shut up and stop asking questions,” you said, unscrewing the top with a deliberate focus.
Calloused fingers came up to yank the tube out of your grip, however, and Touya leaned in, his grin sharp and white.
“Lemme do it, sweetheart. Return the favor for my prosthetic,” he said. You winced, remembering how forcefully you’d applied his forehead earlier. As you braced yourself, however, his fingers brushed gently over your skin.
You suppressed a shiver at the feeling of him wiping off the blood with the rubbing alcohol, then going over it with the antibiotic cream, smearing it delicately, your nose going hot again. He took his time, careful to cover every inch, kneeling on the ground in front of you with your ankle clutched in one large hand. His duster fanned out behind him, dragging on the ground as he bent over you, but he didn’t seem to care, too absorbed in his task.
When he was done he carefully applied the bandage too, and you looked on, mystified, as he cracked the ice pack with long, strangely elegant fingers, and pressed it over your ankle bone as well.
His eyes flicked back to yours when you let out a short hiss, feeling the zing of the ice all the way in your teeth. Some of his expression looked squashed, given the obstruction of his prosthetic, but you thought he looked maybe just a little bit concerned, before he realized you were just being a baby. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rip off his prosthetic so you could see his expression in full, and had to pin your arm to your side to stop yourself.
“This was—unexpected,” you admitted, watching him closely. “You’re…a surprisingly good nurse, Touya. Thank you.”
His answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
You fumbled with the antiseptic and sniffed pointedly, just to have something to complain about. “Well. Your bedside manner could use some work.”
Touya leaned in, his smile suddenly going dark. “Oh, angel, now that’s not what I’ve been told—”
Your palm shot out to cover his mouth, horror overriding your normal brain function. Touya just laughed into the skin of your hand, however, shockingly boyish and sweet-sounding.
You pressed harder, hissing at him to shut the hell up, until you registered the feeling of dry, raised skin under your fingers. You jumped, realizing you were pressing down on his scars.
“Shit, did I hurt you—?” you asked, yanking your hand back, only for Touya to catch your wrist. He blinked, looking surprised that he had.
“No it’s—you didn’t—” he said. His fingers shifted over yours and his eyes darted over your hand in something like shock. “They get dry and pull but they don’t—it wasn’t that.” He sounded annoyed, but not that you’d touched him. That you’d pulled away from touching him.
Somehow, that settled you. Before you understood what exactly was possessing you, you reached back in, satisfied when Touya let you. The pads of your fingers met the edge of a scar again, feeling along the seam. You carefully traced over it the way Touya’s had just traced the cut on your ankle.
Touya’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a slow breath. “You don’t need to touch ‘em, sweetheart,” he said finally.
He said it as lightly as he’d said all his earlier nonsense, but he’d been giving you shit for long enough that you recognized there was something deliberate about the ease of his tone this time. This wasn’t his usual, natural timbre.
“Does it bother you?” you asked.
It seemed to take him a minute to decide.
“...No,” he answered, those cerulean eyes catching on yours again. You felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your own fingers, and your skin prickled with something—annoyingly not annoyance.
“Well then shut up,” you told him. “Or I’ll pinch you right on the seam.”
Touya laughed, a slow rolling sound. “Promises promises,” he said, but he seemed more relaxed.
You felt along the contours of his face, mystified by what the hell you thought you were even doing, until you reached the edge of the prosthetic you’d applied. It only took a second for you to give in to the impulse you’d had earlier and start peeling it from his skin, slow and deliberate.
You reached down and helped yourself to the rubbing alcohol, applying it around the prosthetic, letting it dissolve the adhesive before pulling gently. Shockingly, Touya let you do it. He just sat there, watching you with an intensity you’d never experienced before, hardly blinking.
You kept careful track of the prosthetic, unable to look him in the eye, focusing on rubbing off the makeup you’d used to blend it in for good measure. You tried not to examine the weirdly satisfied feeling that settled in your stomach when his natural face was visible to you again.
It was probably just his looks. He really was so handsome for such a grating personality.
You set the prosthetic aside, lost on where to go from here. Touya probably thought you were so fucking weird for just like, rubbing his face like he was some kind of cat. He certainly looked like he had no idea what to do now, which was such a departure from his usually snotty self-assurance that it threw you for an even bigger loop.
“Always thought you’d be a little rougher with me, sweetheart,” Touya finally managed, flashing you a smirk. It looked a little smaller than usual though, like he was drawing it up like a shield, but your hackles raised instantly, like always.
You always, always responded to him.
“Trust me, that can be arranged,” you promised darkly, trying to crack your knuckles. Only one of them crackled obligingly, however, and Touya blinked, before laughing again.
“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in closer. Cigarette smoke and cinnamon clouded your senses, fogging up your brain. “Gonna fuck me up nice and good, sweetheart?”
You dredged around for something snarky to say, but words were suddenly failing you as those infuriatingly pretty features drew closer. Seriously could a makeup artist not catch a break around here?
“Uhhh,” was all you managed, your brain bluescreening, as Touya huffed a laugh, exhaling over your mouth.
“Shut up,” you finally spat out, catching a fistful of that black hair. Touya groaned, however, looking like he liked that of all things, and a red hot flash of something jolted through you.
There was a pause, then, a tiny sliver of a moment where it seemed like one of you might pull back—move away and snipe at one another from a safer distance.
Things somehow seemed to be spiraling out of control, in a way you hadn’t expected, after just one kind gesture from him. You didn’t really understand how you’d suddenly found yourself with him leaning over you, your hand pulling at his hair, but if you had any good sense you’d have pulled away immediately and told him something extra mean, just for good measure.
Except then Touya opened his mouth and escalated things, as usual.
“Make me,” he said, the most absolutely heinous line of all time. You yanked his hair harder, deeply disgusted that he’d try that on you.
And then, like a thread had snapped, you leaned forward and crushed your mouth to his.
Touya reacted like a lightning strike. He surged up over you, weighing you down into the staff room couch. He tasted like spearmint muddled under bitter smoke, and he was broader than he looked under that duster, heavy with lean muscle. You could feel every kilo of it press you down into the cushions as Touya licked hot and filthy into your mouth.
His tongue curled around yours, wet and teasing, and he exhaled on a groan like he’d never tasted anything better. It sent little sparks of electricity jittering up your spine, especially as he shifted between your thighs, that trim waist slotting between them perfectly.
“Fuck, angel,” he said, his tone somewhere between sweet and nasty. “Wanted me this whole time, huh?”
You yanked harder on his hair, telling him to shut up, but the swelling of something hard against your thigh told you he only liked that more. “You are so nasty,” you told him, and you could feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against the side of your face, before he leaned in and bit the shell of your ear, grinding the evidence of his interest even harder into your thigh.
“I can show you nasty, sweetheart,” he promised, his tone going silky-soft again. A calloused hand slid up into your shirt brazenly, long fingers teasing the underside of your bra. When you didn’t immediately try to yank him out of there he wiggled in further, until his fingers met your nipples, and he got even harder against your leg.
He pinched carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escaped you was muffled into his mouth. He kissed you harder as your nipples tightened, pebbling in his fingers, something far too satisfied filling the air around you. His hips canted up, grinding himself into you again, this time a little closer to your core.
Your own hips shifted, moving to increase the friction, trying to shift him closer to your center. His fingers and tongue teased you, each flick of his tongue mirroring the caress of a finger, the soft pinch of his index and thumb.
You couldn’t have controlled yourself if you wanted, too focused on the sensations he was drawing from you, the desperate need to get closer to him though you were already pressed together from mouth to shin. You realized you’d been pulling at his coat when he finally withdrew from your shirt and let you yank it down his arms, exposing a patchwork of scars over dense, mouth-wateringly well-defined muscle.
You inhaled sharply, and Touya paused for a minute—until he seemed to realize that you were fixated on the shape of his arm, rather than the purple bruise of scar tissue. The quickening of his grin in the corner of your vision told you that you’d pleased him.
“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Want to see the rest of me, angel?”
You ripped your eyes off of his arm to glare at him, which only made his grin wider. The fluorescent lights behind him limned his hair in a pale light, blinding you when he moved his head—and all of a sudden you recalled where you were and what you were doing.
“Here? No! Touya, anyone could walk in!” you said, trying to scramble out from beneath him.
Touya caught you around the thigh, hauling you back underneath him. You noticed he was careful to angle your leg up so you didn’t catch your ankle against the arm of the couch.
“This is far from the worst thing I’ve done in a public place,” he said, laying himself back out over you.
You pushed at his shoulder though, casting a worried glance back at the door. “I am not trying to get fired,” you hissed, even as you shivered with the delicious heat of him over you.
Touya sighed through his nose, and then heaved himself off the couch. You watched him seize the plastic makeup chair and haul it over to the door, stuffing it under the knob at an angle so that it held the lock in place. Then he turned around and prowled right back to you with predatory intent. Your stomach fluttered.
“Better, angel?” he asked, tone soft.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of nodding, but he seemed to know what you wanted anyway, leaning back in to kiss you fiercely.
You melted into the feeling of his mouth over yours, kissing him back just as passionately. You hated how good he was at that, hated how pretty he was under all those scars and piercings, hated how his obnoxious personality wasn’t even a factor in what you wanted to do with him right now.
Touya groaned again when you pulled at a fistful of his dark hair, and then you were dragging him down to the couch and climbing into his lap. Touya seized your left leg as you did, pointedly guiding your ankle away from the edge of the seat, and it only inflamed your desire for him.
“Like you a whole lot better like this,” he said into your mouth, as calloused fingers slid into your leggings.
Your reply was cut off by a moan as he traced his index finger lightly over the center of your panties, before pressing down firmly over your clit. A thousand little points of electricity lit up under your skin, and you shifted into his hand unthinkingly.
A smile formed against your lips, and it was only Touya’s hand making its way into your panties that suppressed the annoyed buzz that started in the back of your brain.
“You kick up such a fuss, sweetheart, but look at what you really think of me,” Touya purred as his fingers slid up into your incriminatingly wet folds. “All this for me, angel?”
You wanted to bite him for his cheek but you feared breaking the skin of his scars, so you settled for giving him a pointed look. He just laughed, his smile smug.
“I’ll show you what I’ve really thought of you too, sweetheart,” he promised, taking hold of your leg again to slide your leggings and panties down. He settled you back over the hard line in his pants, grabbing your hips and pulling you firmly down over it, grinning.
“Love when you’re a spitfire little fucking brat. I’ve imagined taking you right over the vanity every single day for the last three years, sweetheart. Taking you against the lockers and then right here over the couch. Fucking you so hard that you scream and everyone comes running in to see you squirming and crying and begging on my cock, and you want it so much that you don’t even care—”
He laughed when he felt you clench up in his lap, working to unbuckle his belt and free himself, immediately angling you over him. “You want that too, sweetheart? Want to see if I can make you scream so loud that people come to see what’s wrong?”
“My god you never shut up,” you told him, pointedly avoiding the question. In lieu of an answer, you shifted, guiding him to your center and sinking down onto him instead. You watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back and hissed at the feeling of you slipping down around him.
“Fffffffffffuck,” he said to the ceiling, a hand tightening in your sweater. You had to agree, gritting your teeth with the delicious slide of him inside of you, hot and thick and full and perfect. You leaned in, putting your mouth over the scar tissue on his neck, smirking when he exhaled shakily again.
“I think,” Touya huffed. “I should have put you over my lap three fucking years ago.”
You thought back to your first glimpse of him, flicking ash at you as he chainsmoked outside the maze entrance, and thought you would have probably gouged his eyes out if he had tried. Honestly he’d barely scraped together enough good will with his little ankle treatment as it was.
But maybe this is what that girl had been talking about, when she said Touya didn’t talk to anyone besides you. Had he really been more into you than he’d let on, these three years? Is that why he’d been at your throat this entire time?
The thought was lost when Touya’s hips lifted into yours, grinding himself into you just right, and your head fell back with a shivery moan. Touya’s mouth found the skin of your throat and sucked as he bucked up into you, picking up into a faster pace. You rocked back and forth over his lap, guided by Touya’s grip on your hips, relishing in the feel of him inside of you.
His fingers slid back down, brushing over your clit, and you bit down a yelp as he dragged his thumb over it firmly.
“That’s it,” he said, biting down softly on your neck. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”
You pressed a hand over your mouth instead as he slid in and out of you, those clever fingers working you deftly. He pinched softly, then swirled the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit again, groaning and pounding up into you. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Always want to hear your mean little mouth.”
“Touya—shut up—” you panted as he moved you how he wanted, played you like an instrument. Between his fingers and the hard press of him inside you, you felt like you couldn’t escape the pleasure, the feeling mounting within you. No matter how you moved your hips, his fingers were there to meet you, rubbing maddening circles, teasing you mercilessly, and he filled you so good that it felt like he was pressing against that spot from the inside too.
You writhed with the feel of him, as he steadily covered your neck and shoulders with marks of his attention. You couldn’t help but moan, much much louder than you would have liked, and Touya leaned back to look at you again, looking pleased.
“That’s it, yeah,” he said, another grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Louder for me, sweetheart. Want you to come for me.”
You huffed, unable to do anything but squirm in his lap, chasing the feeling closer, ever closer to the edge. You weren’t going to let his infuriating attitude ruin this for you, not when you were so close—
Without input from your brain, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of Touya’s hair again and his hips stuttered, slamming up into you with more force than he had previously. He looked a little shocked, and then a little dazed, and the grip he had on the side of your hip tightened almost to the point of bruising as he forced you down onto him harder, gasping.
“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart—fuck yes,” he rasped.
His fingers rubbed you harder, and his hips slapped up into you frantically. The uptick in intensity had your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, and you bit your palm to keep the sounds in.
Touya ground into you with a renewed fervor, and it was only another matter of seconds before something inside of you was being wrenched loose. You lost the grip on your control, every nerve ending in your body lighting up and coming alive, singing with pleasure. You seized up, crying, “Oh my god, Touya!” and then you were cumming hard, harder than you ever had, Touya’s talented fingers still working you, his cock still fucking you mercilessly.
Touya swore, spitting out your name like a curse, and then again in almost reverent tones, before he too was following you right off the edge. He slammed you down on him once, twice, and then he was cumming too—shivering against you as he held you tight against him.
The silence of the room around you was ringing, once you managed to return to yourself. Touya was a long, hot, hard wall of muscle between your thighs, his hair mussed and a patch of makeup you’d missed smearing into the hair at his temple. His cheeks were flush with effort over the seam of his scars, and he looked, irritatingly, even more beautiful than he usually did.
Like he could sense what you were thinking, the corner of his mouth rose as those cerulean eyes searched over you, blinking like a pleased cat.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I knew I liked you mean,” he said, his raspy tone rougher than normal.
“And I don’t like you at all,” you sniffed, though you knew the protest was pointless when he was quite literally softening inside of you. You let go of his hair, remembering yourself.
“Aww angel don’t be like that,” he drawled, his grin widening. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss over your mouth. “I can make it up to you—all three years, if you’ll let me.”
You knew he felt your involuntary shiver, pressed up against you like he was. And that was definitely answer enough for him, as his smile went more handsome and boyish than you’d ever seen it. You hated that you liked it.
“I’ll clean up and clock out,” Touya told you, gingerly helping you off of him and back into your leggings, his eyes fixating a little too closely on your legs as you did so. “You tell your friends you’re gonna go home and rest that ankle. And I’ll pick you up out front, angel.”
You flushed, embarrassed that you’d completely forgotten that you were at work, and you’d intended to go out bar hopping after. But you figured you could be forgiven just this one time.
“Fine,” you said, though your insides were feeling a little fluttery at the thought of leaving with Touya. “But I expect penitence or there’s going to be a reckoning.” You supposed you were owed, for all these years of suffering.
Touya looked down at you from under his lashes, dark and beautiful and still as infuriating as ever. “I’ll give you my best, sweetheart. Over and over until you can’t even walk,” he promised, “Gotta keep you off that ankle, after all.”
You flushed again, yanking your sweater down over your leggings, and fled out the door. Touya’s laughter floated after you, sounding pleased.
You sped up your pace, your ears burning.
And if you were actually rushing not to get away from him, but to return to him sooner? Well, then, nobody needed to know that but you.
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saerotonins · 7 months
Text
actor!kento headcanons
ft. nanami kento x reader
content warnings: fluff, general actor headcanons, implied nanami x reader
wc: 749
note: i really have fun doing this, let me know if you guys want more for other characters! 🫶🏻
jjk actor au masterlist
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 as an actor:
i feel like he would be more humorous and laid back than his character
usually the one who starts teasing his closest castmates (probably haibara and gojo)
treats the 1st and 2nd year casts as his kids
especially the twins, yuuji and sukuna
acts like a father figure to them on set and takes care of them whenever they had a very exhausting scene to film (like fight scenes and such)
he's also the one who breaks the twins up whenever they have playful banter with each other
puts up with gojo more outside their characters and is actually tolerating his antics on set 
will sometimes have a giggle fit whenever someone makes a light mistake during filming like voice cracks and stumbling during fight scenes
believe it or not, he's really the type to join gojo and geto in creating light pranks to the other casts
when a scene needs to be filmed before the sun even goes up, he pulls up to the shoot with coffee and the casts' (even the crew!) favorite drinks
knows their coffee and drink orders BY HEART
the producers love him because he's such a sweetheart
whenever he smiles (an example is during that mahito scene where he was trapped in his domain expansion and in the restaurant with ino), the crew is literally the definition of "got me kicking my feet, giggling, and twirling my hair" LOL literally big fans of him
speaking of mahito, people are surprised to know that they're very good friends and actually went to the same middle school
he is usually the one that he practices his lines with aside from his spouse
he CANNOT for the life of him practice his lines with gojo and geto alone because they will have a giggle fit every time 😭 they can't take it seriously pls
also shares his bentos made by you to his co-stars which they really REALLY love
he also takes his physic very very seriously and works out on a daily basis but it doesn't mean he won't enjoy a good cheat meal (which is also very often because whenever filming gets busy, they resort to take outs) hence he compensates by working out more
gojo really likes to touch and squish his biceps from time to time istg this man
believe it or not, he has an instagram, but his face is barely posted unless it's a promotion or magazine shoot
most of his posts includes foods, behind the scenes of some shoots, and his spouse, you
fans are raving and gushing about it
he also has highlights that are just food, travels, behind the scenes on the shows he is in
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as a husband: 
unlike his character, he stays to work overtime most of the time (not that he wants to, it's just he NEEDS to) which you understood head on before you married him and before his stardom 
you usually prepare his bentos before he goes to work 
which is most the time also appreciated by his workmates so you make more portions to satisfy their stomachs as well
but whenever his hectic schedule and yours clash that you don't have the time to prepare him one, he settles with takeouts and convenient store foods which is enough to fill him up but it just does not hit the same :((
he practices his lines with you as a form pf quality time, his schedule is so packed that he takes every single free moment with you as a bonding experience
but sometimes he doesn't because he hates giving you spoilers and wants his scenes to be a surprise for you (*wink wink* hair grab scene *wink wink*)
the kids, the 1st and 2nd year casts (and maybe even gojo), goes to your shared home to crash if they're too tired to go home from the shooting site if your house is the closest
the 1st year trio, especially yuuji, goes by your home often whenever he gets easily bored 
even though you're not the part of the crew, for how often they go to your home, you also treat them as your kids (yes, including gojo)
whenever they're around, it's always so loud and lively but both you and nanami are not complaining 
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autumn-hiraeth · 10 months
Text
Rockabye!
Hobie brown x reader
angst but not enough. First part.
NEXT PART
a/n: so many people asked for a second part. So i hope y'all like it! ( loved all the comments lol). Part 3? Gimme ideas pls
Find more here “ Hobie's masterlist 🕷”
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You knew that being with someone like Hobie Brown would change your life completely and you weren't wrong. It's been three years since you saw him, three years since Hobie not only broke your heart but also got you pregnant (how thoughtfu of him). You found out you were pregnant a month later and it felt so bad 'cause Hobie obviously didn't feel nothing for you. At first you thought he was just busy but soon you got the message; he was not coming back.
So all on your own, you move in, and do what you have to do to make sure your little girl grow up well and has a good life.
Your daughter has some of your features, but she's a mini Hobie Brown. So you try to stay away from him, however he's fucking Spider Punk, if he really wanted to know about you he would have already found you. :( Never mind, he would make a terrible father. You think.
But one unexpected day, Hobie Brown meets your daughter. His daughter. Hobie is panting hard, trying to save people 'til suddenly his spider-sense kicks in and his heart races 'cause he's never felt like this before.
Then he sees a little girl crying, her parents aren't around and no matter how hurt he is, he doesn't hesitate to swing her out of the danger. He looks at the little girl and is shocked 'cause the kid , who is still sobbing, is exactly like him. She takes after him.
So Hobie tries to calm her down, he's cradling her in his arms, not taking his eyes off her as he murmurs "don't cry, little girl"
Hobie knows he should be helping other people, but he can't, the kid looks so much like him that he doesn't want to leave her alone, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to her.
However, Hobie scoffs at his thought, of course the kid doesn't look like him, he's just tired. And when Hobie finally manages to calm the kid down, he hears a familiar voice. "Rhea! Oh thank god you're fine!" you are in front of him crying, in a frantic state and you don't even seem to realize that your daughter is being held by Spider Punk, her father, no, instead you take her off his arms while you sob happy to have found her safe and sound.
But Hobie is frozen watching the scene; you, the love of her life, whom he abandoned three years ago, holding your daughter while you kiss her cheeks in relief and his heartbeat races 'cause Hobie suddenly seems to figure out why the kid looks like him... It is her daughter. He's dad. "Y/n..." as soon as you hear his voice you hug your daughter as a defense mechanism.
“I gotta go” your voice sounds more serious and your look makes him feel guilty instantly. "Fine, I'll take you two home" he suggests and you frown because you can't believe he has the audacity to just act like everything ended well between the two of you.
"no way, I don't need your help" you are being cold and Hobie understands that; he understands that you hate him 'cause he abandoned you; he abandoned his pregnant girl; the thought of everything you had to go through to take care of his, your, daughter, burns deep inside him.
'cause if he had only stayed then now you and Hobie would be a family and he knows he would be a good father. Yes, being a father is a thought he never had but now, he knows that he would make a good father even a good husband.
"Y/n please" he pleads, he wants to talk, apologize and meet the kid, tell you that he's still loving you, but you don't care what Hobie wants so you pick up your daughter, who hides her face in the crook of your neck. "Stay away Hobart" you tell him and Hobie lets you go, for now.
But you two know that they'll see each other again, 'cause Hobie knows that he has a daughter with you.
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kairiscorner · 11 months
Text
so... i might have gotten a little carried away...
my itsv and atsv bots masterlist
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miguel o'hara bots:
feral miggy that you caught
resting with your husband miggy
drunk miggy
sick miggy
oh you made him mad miggy
7 minutes in heaven with miggy
smitten with you miggy
arranged marriage miggy
jealous miggy (1)
sharing a bed with miggy
wanna have kids? miggy
jealous miggy (2)
you and miggy are prideful knuckleheads
divorcing miggy
working with miggy as your supervisor
being miggy's secretary
you're his daughter's teacher
miggy's scaring you
miggy's that single hot dad you keep seeing around
divorced miggy but still loves you
caught in a scandal (TYSM TO @miguelswifey04 FOR THE INSPO)
your best friend, father figure, and mentor
comforts you after breakup miggy
he wants to know who's been texting you
he's here to help you feel comfortable
visiting your husband at work
he's tired of teaching
after a long day, you're all miggy needs
waking up with miggy
you wish he could get off your ass (father figure miggy)
saving miggy from a ship wreck as an atlantean
miggy walking in on you dancing
royal guard miggy teaching you how to behave (royal!au)
being miggy's maid
posing with miggy
your college classmate is into you
he can see why his dog likes you so much
he owes you all his victories (rcd!miggy)
he can't remember being your husband
your dad's best friend is really... (dbf!miggy)
miles morales bots:
you and miles have an argument
grafitiing with miles
your first date with miles
miles is smitten with you
pavitr prabhakar bots:
giving pav a chance to prove his love to you
pav wants to get to know you better
a night out with pav
pav hates seeing you cry
hobie brown bots:
committing property damage with hobie
your boyfriend hobie
hobie's falling for you
hobie trusts you with his secret identity
hobie'll be your little secret
hobie admits it to you
hobie loves your bad ass
hobie's hands are just right
hobie loves his grumpy dear
gwen stacy bots:
gwen's falling for you
gwen's sorry she has to leave you
gwen comforts you
peter b parker bots:
peter b'll teach you everything he knows
your husband peter b
lyla
if she was human, she might just like you
spider noir bots:
cat dad noir
dance partner noir
noir's in love with you
husband noir
divorced noir
anniversary with noir
always saving you noir
wants your sweet attention noir
first kiss with noir
got himself webbed up noir
you're noir's muse
noir has a smoking problem
ben reilly bots:
you're ben's one and only
needy ben
wants your attention badly ben
your silly best friend
the spot:
the spot still loves you
I HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS HELP (i made a lot of these in one sitting pls, i hope they're any good :'>)
please tell me what you think, and enjoy !!
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(the skrunklies, they didn't fit.......)
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its-avalon-08 · 19 days
Note
hi !! can you do headcanons max verstappen X senna’s daugther!reader?
thank uuuu
hii !!! if i were to imagine senna's daughter!reader she would be so talented. she isn't a driver because of her built up trauma. (im fully aware that the timelines don't add up, don't add logic into it <3) she is an aerodynamic engineer, mainly responsible for making the car. she is secretly in love with speed and racing.
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max and y/n met when they were just kids. max was a menace on track and y/n was terrified of racing. she saw speeding cars as a reminder of her father's passing. being good friends, y/n has a tradition of kissing max's helmet as a feeble attempt to keep him safe.
they started dating in 2019, and have been together ever since. y/n being the absolute genius she is, continues to work in redbull and delivers top of the line car designs leading to the dominance as seen on track.
max leaves a single, perfect red tulip on y/n's desk every race weekend, a silent promise to return safely.
y/n hides little notes in max's helmet before qualifying, each one a technical insight phrased like a love letter.
max, despite his aversion to early mornings, wakes up before y/n on important presentations to make her breakfast, his way of calming her pre-work jitters.
y/n, who finds airplanes stressful, uses a calming app max downloaded for her whenever they travel together.
max, after a particularly grueling race weekend, finds y/n curled up on the couch with a book about aerodynamics. he joins her, listening intently as she explains a new concept she's been working on, his full attention the sweetest victory lap.
max knows how deeply the lack of a father figure affected her, causing under-confidence and a constant need of validation. max knows this and never stops giving her words of affirmations.
everyone of the grid adores y/n. they see her spirit and her beautiful face reflect senna's in so many ways. max is fiercely protective of y/n, often defending her from questions about her father and his death.
y/n hates jos verstappen from the bottom of her heart. she is not scared of yelling at him when he berates max. she whispers affirmations into max's ears after a bad race (which was rare but not impossible)
when max crashes, y/n is the first to suffer from the highest intensity of a panic attack. she shivers and trembles until max gets out safely. after the crash in 2021 with hamilton which caused max to fall over in the medical center, y/n angirly stormed towards the cheerful hamilton, shouting angrily.
here's what happened ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓
the smile evaporated as y/n marched towards him. it wasn't a walk, it was a storm surge. "congratulations? you call pushing max off the track at 200 mph congratulations?" her voice, usually calm and collected, was a tightly leashed fury. lewis blinked, his smile morphing into something defensive. "it was a racing incident, y/n. we both went for the corner." her voice cracked. "racing incident? you call leaving him stranded on the gravel, risking his life, a racing incident? do you have any idea what it's like to watch someone you love walk away from a fireball?" the room held its breath. lewis's face paled. "y/n, i…" "no, you don't," she cut him off, her voice thick with emotion. "you don't get to pretend you know what it's like to see your dreams vanish in a cloud of smoke. you don't get to understand the terror of every single corner, every single race because you haven't lost anyone on this damn track!" tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the accusing stare she fixed on him. "max is more than a rival, lewis. he's a friend, a teammate, a human being. and today, you gambled with his life for a trophy." the silence stretched, suffocating. finally, lewis spoke, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "y/n, i… i didn't…" "you didn't think," she finished the sentence for him, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "just like some people never think about the consequences of their actions." turning on her heel, she stormed out of the room, leaving behind a stunned silence and a champion stripped of his celebratory air. as y/n reached the red bull garage, she found max emerging from the medical center, a sheepish grin on his face. relief washed over her, so strong it brought her to her knees. max rushed to her side, his concern a warm balm on her raw emotions. he held her close, whispering reassurances into her hair.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!
leave a like! leave a note!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
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mzzledmutt · 20 days
Text
first time dad!izuku…
cw: fem!reader, prohero + first time dad!izuku, cutesy fluff, first time parents, pregnancy, NSFW, izuku loves titties, lactation kink
notes: izuku midoriya is 21+
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firsttimedad!izuku who sobs joyous tears of pride and love as you announce your first pregnancy. he was giddy and ecstatic, rushing to kiss and hold you close. after years of draining hero work, he was finally ready to settle down.
“you’re pregnant? oh my god! baby, that’s amazing! holy shit…we’re gonna be parents. but, we’re gonna be parents! there’s a baby in there!”
firsttimedad!izuku who adores taking care of you, especially now that you’re pregnant. from the start, he had been there for you. learning how to steer you clear of unhealthy cravings, keeping your hair back as you puke your guts out, massaging your already aching feet and back.
“‘zuku, can i have another bowl of ice cream? baby’s craving more.”
“baby or mama?”
“please izu’?”
“of course, my love.”
firsttimedad!izuku who takes every single moment to read up on being a parent. at his agency before a big meeting? he’s sitting at his desk, feet kicked up and gently swaying in his chair as he reads. cooking dinner for you, his lovely, pregnant wife? his headphones are playing chapter fifteen of a book he saw online.
firsttimedad!izuku who jumps around your bedroom when the baby first kicks. he loud and bouncing, giggles fleeing into the air. he tries everything to get a reaction. from kissing your small bump to gently taps and slightly raising his voice. he knew you were growing a tiny person in there but, seeing it happen right before his eyes was thrilling.
firsttimedad!izuku who’s frantic over the state of the nursery. you were so grateful for him, he practically did it himself. izuku begged you for the opportunity of putting your nursery together. he had you pick everything out and he did all the hard work of painting, putting furniture together and decorating (with some of your help of course). a deep feeling of satisfaction sat in his chest as he and you stood in the center of the room. wide smile in his face, hand secure on your waist, gently caressing your still expanding stomach.
“it only took a month and thousands of dollars but, it’s done.”
“this would be a bad time to say i hate the paint?”
“i’m kidding! don’t crucify me. it’s beautiful! truly, you did a fantastic job, ‘zuku.”
“you’re beautiful, mama.”
“oh, shut up.”
firsttimedad!izuku who’s friends surprise him with a guys night after discovering the news. many friends from his years of being a hero and school attended, congratulating him on his next step in life. as a surprise, the students invited their old teacher, mr. shōta aizawa who kindly attended to bestow some wise words upon the growing hero.
firsttimedad!izuku who stays involved you’re entire pregnancy. who’s there whenever you need him. who’s prepared to do whatever you need him to do even after a rough night. because izuku is a good man. a good hero, husband and he will be a good father.
firsttimedad!izuku who’s fixated by your swollen breast, full of warm, sweet milk. emerald eyes track you with pinpoint accuracy as you change, slipping your black bra over your head. while sunbathing by the pool, he’s hovering by the edge staring at your blossoming figure covered in an almost angelic glow.
“you’re staring again, izuku.”
“you’re just so pretty.”
“you’re just saying that.”
“no, not at all! you’re the most gorgeous woman i have ever had the pleasure of meeting. you are my best friend, my partner in crime, my wife, the mother of my child. you are stunning, my love.”
“i thought katsuki was your best friend?”
“that’s all you have to say after that!?”
firsttimedad!izuku who’s fixation turns into curiosity. is there already milk in your breast, just waiting to be consumed? do they hurt? he often sees you hiss after gentle touches but, it could just be new sensitivity. could he feel the difference in weight in his palms? what would it taste like? is it sweet or bitter? is it thick or thin? can he try it?
firsttimedad!izuku who practically corner you one night after returning from a gruesome day. his hands caress you in all the right ways, his lips brushing against your overly sensitive skin. you keen fast, ending up in your shared bed as he removes your bra. mind focused one his one goal of quenching his thirst.
“izu move, you stink and my back is killing me.”
“just give me a hug.”
“did you not hear me? you stink, take a shower please.”
“we can shower together, baby. mph—fuck, you smell so good, mama.”
“let go over me you dope.”
“no no, wait. i’m not done with you.”
firsttimedad!izuku who’s mouth waters as he squeezes some fresh milk from your breast, leaning down to lap at your wet skin with his tongue. soft moans fill him with a sense of pride as he massages your other tit, pinching at your aching nipple. he finally sucks on your breasts, looking up at you as his tongue circles your nipple. finally, the white liquid is flooding his mouth, causing him to groan as his eyes fluttered shut.
firsttimedad!izuku who’s hips rut into the sheets below him as he’s latched to your tits. alternating between sides when he’s realized he’s not sharing his attention. the taste was overwhelming, better than izuku expected. all he desired was to lap from your breast for hours. your sweet nectar being spared for your unborn child instead of himself felt like a cruel punishment in his lust-fogged mind.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 30 days
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hey ari, i’m truly having an awful night. there’s a free pass for anything that involves someone being protective against a shitty guardian/parental figure. i wish jason todd would’ve kicked my dads ass tonight.
Lee took to Alfred much more warmly, peppering him with little boy questions about dinosaurs and oddly enough... piccolos? Which made the butler wonder if there was not a single neurotypical person in the entire family.
Adorable. He was enchanted. All dimples and curls. He'd carried Alfred a mug of tea managing to only spill half of it on the floor for the boxer and the wolf hound. And to get under your feet nearly causing you to fall twice- managing to get exiled to play outside with his dog.
It was a lovely afternoon. Watching Jason be so... soft. So helplessly in love with his wife and his children. Excited to be a new father. He enjoyed doting on his wife and fussing over his kids. He was comfortable in the vintage kitchen and the narrow halls. He liked the routine. Coming home to something stable.
When you started stretching your back in your kitchen chair, Jason smiled a little, "C'mon, let's get you on the couch."
"I'm fine, I just needed to-"
"Let's please not have to take you back to the hospital," Jason coaxed, helping you to your feet. "I'll tell Lee he needs to run in sight of the bay window every so often."
You snort and let him help you, grateful that he's strong enough to catch you if you need him to. It's comforting. He's comforting. Between his bulk beside you and Boris behind you. By the time he has you on the sofa you already feel better. At least until your phone rang.
"Hello?"
Jason frowned. He could tell from the look on your face who it was and he got Alfred seated listening with half an ear. Your biological father wanted money. Again. Either to have it put on his books or your sisters.
It hardly mattered. The divorce happened. Battle lines got drawn. You chose mom Mandy chose dad. Now you raised Mandy's kids and got "everything handed to you" as far as she could tell. Never mind trusts and adoptions. Or love. Or duty.
He gave Alfred a meaningful look and took a deep breath. Your biological dad and your sister were both banned. They both had no contact orders. And the second they upset you he'd be hanging up.
Your voice cracked. And tears fell.
And gently but firmly Jason plucked the phone from your hand, "If you're that fucking worried about Mandy's books use store brand instead of name brand for your meth and cut costs. Figure it out. Call here again and I'll report you to your PO." But before he could reply he hung up.
"Jay-"
"Shh," he soothed, "don't cry baby girl."
"God I hate it."
"I know," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. "But you're doing good. Just breathe." He broke off and wiped your face, kissing your forehead, "I can't get you a shot but I can get the baby a snack," he teased, "what do they want?"
"Milk chocolate sea salt caramel truffles," you tell him.
He grinned and kissed your nose before standing up, "Alfred, did you feel up to going to the store with me or do you want to stay and keep Y/N company?"
"Well obviously," Alfred said sipping a fresh cup of tea, "I'm going to stay here and be nosey."
"Ky it is," Jason said, "I'll take a kid and a grocery list... then maybe we won't come home with half the cereal aisle."
"We hope," you tell him smiling.
"Shh," Jason said. "Be nice to me and I'll buy more than one bag of truffles."
"You should probably do that anyway," Alfred observed. "For practical reasons."
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discotitsposts · 1 month
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but daddy, i hate you
when spencer recieves a birthday card from his estranged father you help him deal with his feelings
gets a little steamy at the end so 18+ recommended
this is how i deal w my own feelings lol
a little background: set in season 13-14. right before spencer’s birthday. you’re spencer’s wife, you’ve been together around 7 years. You work at the bookstore that you and spencer own. (he helps you run it and is co owner, you run it together) also, Spencer and you live in the apartment above the store.
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It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and you’ve been going through boxes of new books for your store before you open for the day. It’s Spencer’s day off and he’s at the counter adding up the figures and making sure everything is in order for your busiest day of the week.
You hear a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it!” You yell to Spencer. You unlock the door and the mailman hands you your mail. “Thanks Jim, how’s Martha?” You ask him.
“She’s great, she’s dropping by later with cookies!”
“Cool! See you tomorrow!” You wave bye and start going through the mail.
“Hey, hon, there’s something for you from…” You stop when you read the name. William Reid. Spencer hadn’t seen nor heard from his father in almost 10 years. He was still very much angry about anything to do with his father. As were you. You couldn’t believe he hadn’t reached out at all.
“From who?” He asks, not looking up from the financial log. He puts his pencil down and reaches his hand out for you to hand him the envelope. You hesitate but hand it to him anyway.
You watch his face drop when he reads the name and address. Oh, how you wished to take the envelope out of his hands and hold him and tell him to forget that silly piece of paper forever. He peels the envelope open, careful not to touch the seal. He feels the dread fill his heart when he sees the contents. A card that says ‘Happy Birthday’ on the front, and ‘to a very special boy’ on the inside.
“What does he think I am? A fucking child?” He shouts, making you jump. “Sorry.” He apologizes and sighs.
“It’s alright, I’ll leave you alone with that.” You start to back away.
“No, don’t. Stay, please.” He begs with his beautiful eyes.
You nod and move closer. He begins reading the handwritten message on the inside of the card.
“Dear Spencer, Hope you’re not too upset with me, I am proud of you. We haven’t talked in a while, you haven’t called. You have the number. Don’t hesitate to reach out. How is Diana? Miss you. Happiest of Birthdays. Love, your father.” He reads it off, mocking every word.
“What the fuck! He hasn’t sent a card in 9 fucking years! Why now?” He raises his voice.
“I don’t..”
He cuts you off, “I’ll tell you why, because he’s either finally feeling bad about everything or he wants something. Well I won’t call him. I fucking hate him.”
“It’s a dick move to blame you for not reaching out, but honestly? Maybe you should, find out what he wants. If he honestly just wants to talk, it might be the closure you need. If he just wants something from you, you can tell him to fuck off. Obviously you don’t have to but maybe you should consider it. I know he was an asshole to you the last time, but you know I regretted not telling my father everything I wanted to say.” You’re watching your words, his father was a touchy subject.
He thinks for a minute and then sits back down and covers his face with his hands. “Maybe you’re right. You alright to open by yourself today? I think I’ll give him a call.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Good luck.”
He walks over to you and gives you a kiss and runs upstairs. He looked like a little kid who had just been given their favorite candy.
Later, when you’re closing the store for lunch break, you hear a loud crash from upstairs. You run upstairs, afraid Spencer had fallen and hurt himself. Worse. He was on the floor crying his eyes out. He had knocked the bookshelf over and he was surrounded by collapsed books.
You carefully step over the books to get to him.
“What happened?” You ask softly, so as to not startle him. He keeps crying into his hands but removes one to take your hand into his.
“I called, told him I received the card and I was willing to talk with him. I- I tried to…” His voice starts to trail off because he’s crying so hard he can’t speak. You rub his back reassuringly. “It’s ok, take your time.”
“I wanted to tell him, I’m married, and my life is going great. I didn’t even get to say anything. He stopped me and asked what card I was talking about. Turns out his new wife felt he should speak with his son, wrote the card and sent it to me. I should have known it wasn’t his handwriting.” He’s so tired from crying he just lays his head in your lap and stares.
“I’m so sorry love.” You say while running your fingers through his hair. Anger coursing through your veins.
“He hung up on me too.” His voice breaks as he says this. It has you fuming mad even more so. How could he do that? You could practically hear Spencer’s heart snapping in two.
He’s crushing your legs, so you convince him to stand up and have him go lay in bed with you. You cover him with the blankets and just hold him until he falls asleep.
You wake up a few hours later and he’s still asleep. You slyly grab his phone and write down William’s number. You take the paper, and your jacket downstairs.
You go to the store phone and as you’re dialing the number your stomach turns. Was this a good idea? After all I’m doing this for Spencer. You think as the line rings.
“Hello? Who is this?” A woman’s voice answers.
“Hello, is William Reid there?” Your voice quivers. You hear shuffling and the woman calls “Will! Phone!” in the background.
More shuffling. Then a man’s voice. “Who is this?�� He says sternly.
“Hello, you don’t know me but I-“
“Then why are you calling me?”
“I’m your son’s wife, and I think we need to have a talk.”
“Spencer’s married?” He asks almost longingly. He sounded interested. Good.
“What kind of father are you? You don’t let him know you even want to be in his life and now all of a sudden you do? When he does finally reach out you hang up on him?”
“Ok that was because I went to go talk to my wife about why she sent my son a card from me.”
This goes on for a while, you yelling at Mr. Reid for his rude behavior.
The next morning you wake up to Spencer speaking to someone on the phone. Still groggy, you’re confused and mouth, ‘who is it?’
He holds up a finger to say hold on. He’s smiling. Maybe Prentiss is letting him take the next few days off!
“Alright bye! Love you!” He says into the phone, almost giddy. He hangs up and you tilt your head confused. He has the biggest grin on his adorable face.
“It was my dad. He was calling when I woke up. I can’t believe he reached out and he apologized! Can you believe it? He’s never really apologized to me before! We had a long talk, it was nice. Really nice.” He sits on the bed smiling.
“Is that so? Talk about a change of heart.” You smile to yourself knowing what you had done.
“You know what else he said?”
“What else did he say?”
“He said the little talking-to you gave him worked.” Spencer chuckles knowingly.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
“No, I’m not upset. I actually am glad you did it. He wants to come and visit us. He wants to meet you too.” He pulls you into a big hug. “I love you. Thank you.” He kisses your neck.
“You’re welcome. I love you too.” You pull back and hold his face in your hand.
“Since you did me a favor, I think I owe you one. Lay back.” He gently spreads your legs apart and repays the favor to you. All day long.
the end 💞
it hurt me so bad to write spencer crying
to anyone who read this hope you enjoy! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback if you like this!
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enhagvrl · 5 days
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en- when their words upset you
a/n: consider this a small experiment as I want to see which members grasp the most attention. since I'm aware some of the people here are die hard solo stands. also a small spoiler in Jake's part about another draft of mine planning to be posted in june 👀
rest: 02z pocketz fifaz
jay
“ as if anyone would be willing to listen to your constant chatter” 
If someone were to share any secret with you, it would somehow get out of your mouth without your knowledge. You were the chatterbox friend who never knew of a surprise or event, until you were at the place. This led you to have trust issues with everyone and also be insecure about yourself. Over the years, you practised how to keep your mouth shut and not start yapping at any given occasion. That’s when you met Jay, the only person who never hated you for yapping his ears out - he was always sitting there with a small smile on his face listening to every single word coming out of your mouth. You always thought he was the one for you, and that he loved your continuous random talks. But now you were doubting that, that maybe you had been annoying him all this time and he did not want to tell you that just to not hurt your feelings.
You got quiet as you continued stirring the soup, and the sudden silence did not go unnoticed by Jay. He gave you a side eye trying to figure out what happened, but seeing your expressionless face he just concluded that you were trying to focus on cooking. 
Later that evening, both your guys' parents came over for a monthly catch up and meeting with each other. The night went very quickly, with everyone enjoying the evening with each other - everyone except you. Jay was quick to catch on though, noticing you had not uttered 10 proper words since you guys were preparing the dinner. 
After your parents said their goodbyes for the night, the house again went quiet - the both of you cleaning up. Jay tried coming close to you but you would only get away from him to throw away the garbage or clean up this soup stain on the table.
“Baby, is something bothering you? You have not even opened your mouth for the last three hours. You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m always ready to hear you out.” he said, blocking your way by standing in front of you and trapping you in a corner.
You could only scoff at his statement. Pushing him out of the way, you went to do your night routine and took your pillows and an extra blanket, making yourself a comfortable sleeping palace in the living room like kids do, except this one was not for playing. 
Jay could only watch you silently, and breathed a frustrated sigh realising he might have done or said something and that you needed some time to yourself. He went back to your guys’ bedroom - going over all his words and events of the day to figure out what he did wrong. Sleep far away from him. 
jake
   “You can’t even walk properly without stumbling over yourself. What makes you think you can play soccer?”
Being the girl who grew up with a father who regularly watched F1 races and other sports on the television, you had always loved playing sports and being active on the field. You were aware there were a few things you cannot be good at but it did not hurt to try them out, did it? Well certainly it did not before those words left your boyfriend’s mouth. 
“Huh?” was all you could let out, trying to clean the dirt on your knees you got from falling due to your open shoe laces. 
Jake only scoffed in return and rolled the ball along with him, going over to the goal post and scoring a goal. You could only watch him, sitting on the field. After a quick two minutes of just trying to register his words in your word, you also let out a sarcastic smirk and got up from the ground and walked towards the benches. 
“Ay ay, were you not going to score a goal right now? Let’s gaur! The bet on the ice cream still stands, you know that right?” Jake uttered excitedly, running up to you and passing the ball towards you. 
“Not anymore. I’m tired. Let’s go back, I’ll buy us the ice cream.” You said, getting ready to leave the field, leaving Jake all confused with his lips pulled into a small pout and his eyes big with confusion and worry on your sudden change of demeanour. He could only watch silently, as you packed up your towels and shoes, swinging the bag on your shoulders and walking towards the exit, not sparing a glance behind to see if the puppy-looking boy is coming along or not.
sunghoon
 “ let me fcking breathe for a moment now, will you.” 
You had one issue - too many interests. Not being able to decide what to do at what time. There are just so many things in the world and it would be a shame if you don’t experience those things at least once in your lifetime. You never tried to be good at whatever you were doing, just doing it for the thrill and fun. Sunghoon knew this - despite being the big introvert you are, you liked living your life to the fullest not giving a damn about anyone else, even though people would always be surprised or doubting you at times. 
You were telling Sunghoon about how you had booked a ticket to this wonderful bungee jumping place next week for you guys since he had just gotten back from a tour and you guys finally had some time to spend together.
 “ i mean we could book a pretty lodging somewhere and just stay indoors-” “ can’t we      just stay at our own house for a second, gaddamnit. Why do we even have a roof over our heads if we aren’t staying in it for five seconds also.” he interrupted your sentence before you could even complete it. 
Hearing this, you realised you might have just crossed the line. Saying these words, Sunghoon turned towards his side - going to get the much needed sleep and rest he yearned for so long after god knows how many months of those tiring concerts and travel. 
You could only look at his back, thoughts flooding your mind and self doubt creeping up on you as you closed your eyes to drift off to dreamland - making a mental note about cancelling the trip and spending bonding time with your boyfriend. 
© enhagvrl on tumblr, 2024
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lyricailove · 2 months
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Does it ever hit you that because of Frank and Monica's emotional detachment, all of the Gallagher's seek out affection from romantic partners? But like to an almost obsessive degree.
Fiona's is obvious. She's hypersexual and falls in love easily. She will downplay her issues with Frank as something she's grown used to, but it's clear that it still affects her. She also does the same when it comes to Monica but I feel like her hostility towards other women comes from how she doesn't trust Monica, doesn't really trust herself, and sees those insecurities on other women. Ex: Her treatment of Mandy and distrust of her around Lip.
Lip is a classic case of a man dealing with his mommy issues by making it every woman's problem. He's hostile towards his romantic partners when they want a real commitment from him and he talks to women with so much disrespect that it's a wonder someone hasn't stomped his ass out yet. He's especially harsh towards his own sisters even though they've been the one's who have been there for him. He may hate Frank but he's noticeably giving and extremely forgiving towards men, even those he's only known for a short while. Almost like the story about the turtle was just as much about him hoping that he could fix Frank as it was about Frank crushing his hopes of a real father figure.
Ian being groomed is in no way his fault and is the fault of the creeps who pursued him. But I can't ignore the fact that Frank's abuse and neglect opened him up the further abuse he suffered at the hands of Kash and Ned. It's no coincidence that both Kash and Ned shower Ian with gifts and compliments about how impressive, smart, and mature he is.
Debbie 1. deals with comphet in the first few seasons, and 2. Feels ignored by her family so she tries to create her own family. Debbie is visibly the one most affected by Frank's issues and even when she for all intents and purposes gives up on him, it still affects her. Frank's hurtful words about her only finding love with someone "just as fucked up as she is" pushes her to put consider a dangerous situation with Heidi. She's also someone who struggles with control issues because she needs to help other people. She's a problem solver by nature. It's just that the two problems she wishes she could solve more than anything are out of her hands (Frank and Monica). She can't fix Frank's addiction, his selfishness, or his abusive tendencies. She can't fix Monica's wanderlust, her avoidance, or her aversion to long-term commitment.
Carl is so good at masking his emotions. It's easy to miss. But then you notice things like his attachment to Fiona, his absolute devotion to the girls he likes, and his need to protect. Carl is hypersexual, even though I've seen it rarely brought up in fandom, and longs for a long-term girlfriend. When he does get girlfriends he's all in from the beginning. When Carl loves someone he is all about them. He's so casual when it comes to talking about Frank and Monica, but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't there and they aren't affecting him.
Liam is still young so we don't get to see him in a relationship. He's the one Gallagher who's consistently treated like an actual kid. Probably the one who has the best chance at healthy emotional attachments. But then again, Fiona leaving most likely did a number on him and we weren't privy to what that looks like for him because the latter seasons forgot how to do long-term storytelling and emotional payoff. All we know is that he doesn't remember Monica, Frank being gone makes him an orphan and he's worried about where he's gonna live because Lip forgot that Liam was technically under Frank's care. We didn't get to see it, but I'd say Liam's first emotional crash is probably on the horizon.
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souliebird · 9 months
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[[and then I met you || ch. 2]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1
words: 6.3k
tag list:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen
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"Mommy, look!" 
Minnie calls out from the living room and you look up from finishing up an invoice. She is plopped on the ground, surrounded by a sea of crayons, proudly holding up her latest masterpiece: a series of different colored overlapping circles. You, as usual, have no idea what you are supposed to be looking at, but that doesn't stop the support you give your daughter.
"That's so good, Mouse. You picked such pretty colors." She beams at you and you return the smile, your heart feeling so full. You love her so much and you want only the best for her and you hope - pray - bringing her father into her life is the right choice. 
Your meeting with Matt went so much better than you ever thought it could go. He wants to be in Minnie's life and that makes you nervously excited. You have absolutely no inkling of how things are going to change moving forward, and a huge part of you is terrified but another part can't wait for Minnie and Matt to get to know each other. You keep going over your admittedly short conversation trying to remember all the little tics you saw that reminded you of Minnie. You want to know what else she inherited from him. 
You tell yourself those thoughts are for later and force them away so you can get back to work. It is getting close to bedtime and you have a few things to tidy up before you can clock out. 
Luckily, Minnie has gone back to her drawing, scribbling away while Scooby Doo plays silently on the television and you are able to work in peace. Ten minutes later, you close out your VPN and leisurely stretch out in your chair, watching your little angel do her thing. 
You are worried about her reactions to the change. Unfortunately, one of the things she got from you is your anxiety - your little one's nickname is Mouse for a reason. She is a quiet timid little thing who loves to watch and observe - like a little church mouse. You joke you need to put a bell on her because she can walk right by you without making a single noise. Her quiet nature doesn't mesh well with strangers. 
You've been taking her to daycare more, hoping socializing will help, and it has, but that is worth other kids. You don't know how she'll react to a new adult in her life who she would have a more casual relationship with. You have no family and the few friends you have have known her since she was a baby. 
Minnie knows what a dad is but she's never asked where hers is and you certainly haven’t brought it up to her.
But now you have to. 
You need to figure out what the best approach would be. You know it has to be slow and steady, but you don't know if you should introduce Matt to her as her father or not. The biggest change she's been through is going to daycare and that took ages. She hated it.
She hates being around strangers for extended periods. 
Out and about? She is okay. She's shy and likes to hide behind your leg instead of talking to people, but she doesn't complain.
But when she has to sit and interact with someone new? She can get fussy. It's not just her being shy, she gets physically uncomfortable. 
She has no problems if it's just the two of you or someone she knows, but strangers? It can turn into a tantrum, depending on her mood. 
You've discovered a few methods to make her more comfortable. You have about fifteen pairs of child sized noise canceling headphones, your bag is full of little things to distract her, and she has her Pig. 
You think introducing her to Matt where she can sit and color and block him out if she wants is the best course of action and to achieve that, you don't think you can tell her the truth right away. She might feel some pressure to Behave because Dad is an authority figure. Not to mention what she would feel if she started asking questions; like why he hasn’t been around.
She's curious but she's also three and unpredictable. 
She could immediately go into tantrum mode. 
She could not care at all and want to color instead. 
You hope Matt understands all of this and doesn't want to jump right into being a Father.
Whatever that entails. 
A change in colors and tones on the television catches your attention and you push yourself away from your desk.
"Okay, sweetie, Scooby is over, time to get ready for bed." 
Minnie finishes her scribble then drops the crayon on the ground. You wait as she climbs up onto her feet and starts to pick up her mess - her crayons go into a pail one at a time. You don't know what goes on in her mind, but as long as she's doing what she is supposed to be, you don't rush her. 
There's no lollygagging with your sweet girl, anyways. Once the crayons are in their bucket, she puts that under the coffee table, then picks up her drawing pad and brings it to you. You scoop her up and start towards the bedroom, as she admires her drawings. 
"What do you want to read tonight?" You ask. 
"Spot!" is the instant reply and you should have guessed that. You've been reading the same book for over a week now, but you don't mind. You'd rather read the same thing over and over than hunt for something she does want to read for an hour. 
Getting ready for bed is something that usually goes smoothly and you are lucky tonight is no different. Minnie is already in her pajamas, so it's just turning down the sheets and getting her all tucked in before you start to read. You keep an eye on the time as you do - you have a half hour before Matt said he would call. 
If he does call. 
He said he would and you are trying to be hopeful that he will. You've been disappointed so many times in the past - not just by lovers but everyone. People promise to call, to text, to follow up and they never do. They say you can do something together then cancel at the last minute. You are used to that disappointment, but you don't want Minnie to experience that. You want her to feel loved and wanted.
You know it's not fair to Matt, but to you the call is a sort of test he doesn't know he is taking. 
Will he call? Will he call on time? 
The more you think about the call, the more anxious you get. There's too many thoughts starting to gather. 
The meeting could have been a fluke and now that he's thought it over, he doesn't want to be a dad.
Or he wants to be a dad but not with You. What if you are the problem? 
"Mommy," Minnie shakes you out of your thoughts, looking up at you with big brown eyes. "Next page!" 
You nod and force your focus back to the book, turning the next page and letting your daughter open and close all the flaps that hide different elements to the story while you read. It's hard to get lost in the simple words and story, but Minnie is used to her routine and by the time you reach the last page, she's leaning heavier into your side.
You place the book on her nightstand, trading it for her sleep headband. She tilts her head forward and you help get the band on and snuggly over her ears. 
"How's that feel, Mouse?"
"Quiet," Minnie replies, like she does every night, sliding down under her blankets. Her little hands tug at the band so the sleep mask part is over her eyes. You smile, forever grateful your little one likes to sleep. You wait while she settles, then kiss both of her cheeks. 
"Sweet dreams, my little angel." 
"Sweet dreams, Mommy," she replies, voice full of sleep. You triple check she's tucked in nice and snug and that Pig is within reach, then turn off the light. You leave the door open a crack, just in case, then return to the living room. 
There's a small mess leftover from dinner and you start cleaning that up. Usually, after you put Minnie down for bed, you'd enjoy a few hours of television or catching up on whatever you needed to, but after finishing the dishes, you don't know what to do. 
There's only a handful of minutes until the promised call time and all you can do is just stand in the kitchen. You debate going to get a notebook so you can keep notes, but you don't want to have the whole conversation about how you want to move forward over the phone. Maybe you jot down ideas of what you two want to cover in person? Matt might have questions you haven't even thought of yet. 
You should find a pen and paper. It's better to be prepared than not. You tell yourself that but you still don't move. You just stare at your phone.
As the seconds creep by your throat starts to get tight.
What are you going to do if he doesn't call? 
Would it be awkward to call him instead? Or is that overbearing? You don't want to come off as overbearing - that might make Matt view you in a negative light and that would definitely have consequences in his relationship with Minnie. You desperately want that relationship to be good and not be influenced by any issues the two of you might have. You would hate yourself if the reason Matt didn't want to be around Minnie was you. 
The thought makes your stomach twist. 
You're definitely not going to call him tonight if he doesn't call you. You can send a text in the morning - something with no pressure.
But he said he preferred calls instead of text. 
Would a call be accusatory? You feel like a morning call would be accusatory. 
You can push it to the afternoon, that would give him time to call in the morning, as well.
You're ripped from your paranoid thoughts as your phone screen lights up with Matt's name. Shock overtakes your system and it takes a moment before you scramble to answer.
You state your name as your greeting, totally trying to pretend you weren't just spiraling.
"Hey, it's Matt.. Matt Murdock." 
His words are soft spoken, on the edge of shy, and it throws you. You understand why his nerves would be rattled but you didn't think he'd advertise that. Your brain screams at you to comfort him and you focus on that instead of your own panic.
"Hey…um, how are you doing?" 
Matt chuckles into your ear, low and throaty, making the knot your stomach has become loosen a bit, "Adjusting." He pauses a beat, then adds, "I can't stop thinking about you and Winifred…Minnie."
Your cheeks burn.
You can't tell him you haven't stopped thinking about him either - that feels like a very weird thing to admit, even if it is the truth. 
You don't know what to say, so your mouth decides for you, blurting out, "I didn't think you'd call…"
"You didn't…?" The undercurrent of hurt in his voice makes you feel like you've kicked a puppy. You quickly backtrack.
"I have a tendency to overthink and get in my head," you say, hoping you aren't coming off like an idiot. "I worked myself up." 
You turn your back to the kitchen counter, then slide down the cabinets until you are sitting on the ground. You bring your knees up, using them to prop up your elbows. 
"I'm glad you did call," you admit, asking your mind to please stop, "I'm sorry, this is awkward, can we start over?"
"Of course," Matt's voice is soft in your ear, but you can hear him smiling, "Should I hang up and call back?"
"No, no, not that far back," you practically mumble, biting your lip. "How about…was your meeting okay? Can I ask that or is it attorney - client privilege?"
Matt hums, sounding like he's thinking over the answer, before answering, "No, that's not covered. It was pretty standard for that client - whether that means it went okay is up for interpretation. No one is in jail, so I would consider it a win." 
You aren't sure what that means, but you want to be supportive. "That sounds like a win." 
"What about you, how was your evening?"
The question makes you laugh a little, only because you think you live a very boring life, "Very quiet and calm. No one ended up in jail on this end either."
"So not a family of trouble makers?" Matt asks, a slight tease in his voice. 
You smile into your knees, replying with a shy, "No, I'm afraid we're rather boring. I hope that is okay."
"I think it's a win."
Oh, you forgot how charming he was. 
He carries on, voice dropping back to a softer tone, "What does a quiet and calm night mean for the two of you?"
You consider the question with a little smile before answering, "We usually start with a nice walk to the park. Minnie likes to play in the afternoon, there's less kids to hog the see-saw."
"She likes the see-saw?" 
"She loves the see-saw," you say, smiling at the memory of your daughter on the playground. "She likes to…bounce? The see-saw lets her go high. She's too small for bounce houses, so she gets her fix where she can." Matt huffs a laugh into your ear and you continue on, "After the park, it's standard toddler afternoon stuff. Dinner and a bath. Playtime and television before bed. I work from home, so I usually get a few hours in before Minnie gets put down for bed. Then, um, more work for me. Or paying bills. Online shopping. Adult things I can do from the couch." 
"You work from home?" Matt asks and you can't remember if you had previously mentioned that. Your whole previous conversation is now suddenly a total question mark. 
"Yeah, um, I work in billing. The company is in international shipping, so time zones aren't really an issue. As long as I log forty hours a week, I can break it up as I want. It makes being a working mom a lot easier." You nibble your lip, unsure about what to really say, so you say the obvious, "You have your own law firm?" 
"I do. You met my partners earlier, Foggy and Karen," he sounds proud, just a little bit, and that warms your heart. 
"I read about a few of your cases last night," you admit, "The papers said you help a lot of people."
Matt doesn't respond right away, but when he does, you find yourself smiling more. "We try to. People here are getting by paycheck to paycheck, they can't afford a lawyer when their landlords try to push them out so they can get someone in to pay higher rent. They need someone to fight for them, and this is our community - Foggy and I grew up here. This is our city." He pauses and you can picture him scrunching up his brow, "You said you saw the interview last night. You had time to read over our cases?"
Embarrassment courses through you. 
"Only what was in the news and I didn't read in depth. I just…" You shrug, even though you are talking over the phone, "I wanted to make sure it was in Minnie's best interest to reach out." You bite your lip again then, wanting to be honest with Matt, you add, "I mean, we only spent one night together and we didn't really discuss…much. I knew you were a lawyer, but you could have been like…a lawyer for some awful celebrity or something. If you were out there and the papers were saying you were vile I wouldn't have just…shown up at your doorstep. Metaphorically. I only have your work address." 
"That makes sense," Matt replies and you have the feeling he really does get it, "you want to keep her safe, to keep both of you safe. I'd do the same in your position. Actually…I guess I do need to do the same, because we don't really know anything about each other." He pauses, then teases, "Unless there's news articles about you I need to catch up on?"
You huff at the thought, "No, nothing that I am aware of." 
"Then we will have to do it the old fashion way."
"Lunch." The words tumble out of your mouth and you resist the urge to bang your head against the cabinets. "We, uh, mentioned lunch. We could use that as a starting point? Give each other our People Resumes."
Matt laughs a little and it's warm, not mocking. You still bury your face into your knees. 
"People Resumes - I like that. I have some pretty good references, if you need."
"I only have the one," you mumble, keeping your face hidden despite being alone. He laughs again.
"I think it's a pretty good one, though."
That makes you smile, "The best one around."
There's a beat where neither of you talk and you wonder what else to add.
"Will she be coming to lunch?" He asks, voice switching from confident and charming to slightly timid. Once again you are reminded of a kicked puppy and it makes your heart ache.
"I would like that," you start slowly and Matt seems to sense you have more to say, as he waits for you to continue. "I wanted to discuss it with you, first."
"Of course," his reply is so eager. "Anything."
"I was thinking…I think it would be best if Minnie gets to know you first before we tell her who you are. It's been the two of us for so long, I don't know how she'll react to a big change. I can introduce the idea to her over time, start talking to her about family and stuff while you two bond?" As you talk, the words start coming out a little faster as your nerves start to come back. "I think telling her up front might make her uncomfortable because like, you'll have a Title and Authority and that would override other things. I don't want to push her into anything she's not ready for yet." 
You press your face into your knees and wait for Matt's reaction. You can hear him breathing and the slight clinking of what sounds like ice in a glass and you hope he understands your concerns. 
He says your name so very softly and a shiver goes through you. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and wait for the ax to fall.
 "I think that would be a really good way to do things," Matt practically breathes into the receiver. 
You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and relief just washes over you. "I…don't want to scare her." He hesitates, then starts in a stronger voice, "did your articles mention that I grew up in an orphanage?" They did and you say as much. "I was older than a lot of the kids and the little ones were scared of that. Scared of being adopted by strangers. I remember being scared of that. I got placed in a few foster homes and I hated being around people I didn't know." He takes a breath and it's a little shaky, "I want her to want me as her father." 
Your heart skips in your chest and you bury your face into your knees more. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Matt. You have a good heart, that's what matters. You just have to get to know each other, spend time together."
Matt hums softly into your ear, "Not just her, you as well."
"Me?" You ask, confused. 
"You," he repeats. "I want to know the mother of my child. Of course I want to get to know you. You're the most important person in her life."
You just hadn't thought of that at all - your concern has been over Minnie. It completely makes sense that he would want to get to know you. He isn't just now in Minnie's life, but in your life.
You chew on your lips in thought, "Is…um.. Is there anything you'd like to know?" 
"How about," he says, after a moment of thought, "the equivalent of what you read about me? That way we are on an even footing."
That wasn't the answer you expected but it makes a bit of sense in your head. You think about what you learned in the papers about Matt Murdock.
You start off by saying where you were born then move onto simple facts, "We moved to Long Island when I was about five and I lived there until I was eighteen. I moved into the city for school - Empire State University. I didn't know what I wanted to do so I got a degree in business. I figured I'd have a good foundation with that, you know? I got a pretty decent job in accounting - I'm still there actually. I uh…am a billing administrator…"
"Your parents?" Matt asks tentatively, like he already knows the answer.
"Gone." You say quietly, but firmly. Your parents aren't something you want to talk about and you hope he understands that. "It is just Minnie and I. And now you..."
"And now me…"
You can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you start to smile. 
"I have no idea how to be a father," he admits after a beat.
"It's okay, I didn't know how to be a mother. I'm still learning - I've read stuff and some things don't apply to Minnie. Or the opposite, she does something and I can't find anything that applies? And it's not like I'm just gonna drop her on you and disappear. It's…I want you to be comfortable as well? That's why I think just meeting each other will be a good start. We can go from there? Do little hang outs and stuff and build up, if that's what you want," you know you're starting to ramble but you keep going. "I think somewhere she is comfortable would be good? There's a diner in Hell's Kitchen she really likes - we could meet there for lunch? If she gets too overwhelmed, I can give her something to distract her, but you can still interact with her? She's a bit shy around new people and pressuring her to really…um.. engage might be a lot? A big thing for her is parallel play, so I'm hoping maybe just hanging out around you if she's nervous might help until she's more comfortable?"
You close your eyes tightly, a little embarrassed at your dumping of ideas, but Matt takes it all in stride, giving a curious, "What is parallel play?"
You lick your lips before answering, "Being in the same space, but doing your own thing? Like two kids coloring together but not talking."
"Ah, I got it. I didn't know there was an actual name for that." There's another pause and you can hear ice clinking against glass again. You wonder if you should get up off your kitchen floor and get yourself a drink, but you decide against it. The only thing you should be drinking is water. "What is the diner?"
You tell him the name of the diner and to your surprise, he chuckles, "I know the place. It's on the same block as Foggy's parents' butcher shop. She has good taste."
"When she gets fussy and doesn't want to eat anything, it's something I know she'll always eat. She'll have her own booth by the time she's five."
Matt laughs again and you can feel all the anxiety you had before the call bleeding away. He's been open to everything you've had to say so far and there's been no hint of negative feelings. 
Maybe things will be okay.
"She can share Foggy's booth," Matt says, no idea your mind keeps trying to freak out over nothing. "We went there for lunch almost every day when we were working out of the shop."
"You worked out of a butcher's shop?" You ask,  thinking you must be misinterpreting something. 
"We did," he says, sounding a little sheepish, "I took a hiatus from…everything really and Foggy went to work for another firm. While we were reestablishing, his parents graciously allowed us to work out of their shop."
Part of you wants to ask about his hiatus, but the way he says it gives you a feeling you should leave it alone, so you do. You focus on another aspect instead. "So we've been going to the same diner, we just kept missing each other."
It is sobering to say - the father of your child was always right there, but fate let you skirt around each other for years. It hurts to think about, your mind whispering at you if you had just tried harder to look for him, you would have found Matt. If you had just seen him earlier, how different would things be? What if you had been there at the same time, but you just hadn't been paying attention to your surroundings? It isn't like he knew to be on the lookout for a fling from years ago - how would he have even noticed you? 
You wonder if he is thinking the same thing - that you probably missed each other because you weren't paying attention.
"Don't do that," your attention is yanked away from your guilt by Matt's strong voice, "I can hear you thinking, blaming yourself."
"Is it that obvious?" You ask quietly, cringing just a little bit. Are you really such a mess he can tell over the phone?
"You said you overthink and work yourself up. You got quiet, so I assumed and I guess I was right. There's no way you could have known and why would you have been looking there?" He sounds so sure you feel guilty over feeling guilty. 
"I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for."
You bite your lip then force your head up and away from your knees. You should get up and get a drink - change how your body is. Maybe it will help in keeping your mood from dipping back down. You take a breath and start to get up.
"Thank you…um.. What day would you want to meet?" You ask, trying to push past the awkwardness and into another direction. You hear him take a drink and decide you do want some water. You start to look around your living space, trying to locate your water bottle.
You spy it across the room in all its rainbow sticker glory and make your way across the room as Matt starts to speak, "I wish I could say tomorrow, but we have to meet with the D.A. tomorrow and I can't miss it. I hate that I can't miss it. But Saturday? Can we meet Saturday?"
You'd have a day to prepare. You would definitely need a day to prepare. "Saturday is perfect. Is 11:30 okay? That's when we try to have lunch."
"That is perfect," Matt replies, mirroring your own. "Saturday at 11:30." 
A giddy little shock goes through you - it's not just an idea anymore. Minnie will be meeting her father and he wants to be in her life. He's eager to be in her life. 
You never thought that would be the case. 
"Saturday at 11:30," you repeat, just to confirm and because you can. It feels good to say. 
"I feel like I should dress to impress," he says with a chuckle and you wonder if he is feeling giddy as well. 
"I don't think she will care, unless you have a shirt with a cartoon character she likes on it." 
There's a few seconds of silence, then Matt's soft curious voice is back, "What characters does she like?"
The question makes you laugh a little because your little girl changes her preferences at the flip of a hat, like any other kid.
"Right now? Scooby Doo and Oscar the Grouch."
"I don't think I have anything with those characters," he says with an amused huff, "but I'll see what I have."
You bite your lip, then let yourself be a bit teasing, "Do you have a lot of graphic tees?"
There's a long moment of quiet before Matt laughs. It's a deep rumble and you find yourself grinning as you grab your water bottle.
"I actually don't know. I don't wear a lot of t-shirts. I think a few have designs on them - at least a few Columbia ones. I wouldn't put it past Foggy to give me something with a cartoon on it, though," he muses. 
"I'm sure she will not judge you on your fashion choices," you point out, "She's three and doesn't understand what fashion is. If she did, I would be in trouble."
"Do you have a lot of graphic tees?" Matt asks, throwing the question back at you. It is your turn to laugh.
"I'm the proud owner of many graphic tees. It's practically the only thing in my wardrobe, top wise. The benefits of working from home."
"Unfortunately, court has a dress code. Or so I'm told. I don't think I've ever read it."
"Jury duty has a dress code," you point out, "It was mostly show up clean and not in athletic wear. I didn't get a good look at the lawyers, but I'm pretty sure I remember suits."
"Would you trust a lawyer in a graphic tee?" He asks and you have to pause to think it over.
"Going into their office? I don't think so, unless it was like casual Fridays. But if I met a lawyer in the street on their off day and they had on a graphic tee? I suppose so. Depending on what they are telling me."
"Do you often get your legal advice from random lawyers on the street?" You can practically hear his eyebrows raising up and your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling.
"Of course not. I get it from Google. I can't afford a lawyer."
That earns you another bark of laughter. "I don't think that will be an issue any longer."
That sets off a little anxiety in your stomach. You don't want to think about needing a lawyer, whether it be Matt as your lawyer or a lawyer against Matt.
He doesn't seem to notice your dip in mood, not that it is particularly obvious, and moves to the next topic. 
"Speaking of, I haven't gotten the chance to look at the packet you gave me. It's there anything I need to get done before Saturday?"
You turn your mind away from the thoughts of lawyers and legal battles to something much more manageable: medical history.
"No, no, there's nothing that urgent. It's mostly just medical information - she's got some sensitivities and I want to make sure I'm prepared for anything in the future. The rest is just information for you."
Matt doesn't respond right away and you chance taking a swig of your water. 
"Sensitivities…?" There is a thick undercurrent of concern in his voice and you feel a little guilty for making him worry. 
"Fabrics and dyes and scents, that kind of thing? I haven't gotten her tested, but certain things just make her itch. Some foods, too. I try to stick to organic stuff and it seems to help a little. It isn't anything major, just a few changes when she lets me know there's something bothering her." You set your water bottle down as you talk, starting to walk around your small living room. "I read it's becoming more common in kids, because all the chemicals and stuff used in everything now. Some of the other moms at daycare have given me tips - laundry soap was the best one." 
You are reminded you actually need to do some laundry and as you walk, you grab the various throw blankets littering your apartment. 
"I see," Matt says slowly, still sounding concerned. "I actually prefer organic myself, I have some sensitivities as well."
"Any allergies?" You ask. You didn't have any yourself so it has always left you guessing what your little girl might react to.
"No, nothing that I know of. I'm not completely sure about family history, but it is something I can look into."
"I would appreciate it. I'd rather be overly cautious than not have anything," you say casually like you aren't completely obsessive about keeping your daughter healthy. 
As you make your way to the bathroom to grab dirty towels, phone between your shoulder and ear, he hums into your ear. "I think that is a good way to do things. I'll try to get the information back to you as soon as possible."
You don't want to chide him, but you can't help but frown a little, "Matt, you don't need to rush. I…was worried you wouldn't be…interested. That is why I put the packet together. I thought you'd want to deal with that instead of going to a doctor's office?"
"I'll go with you to the doctor's," he says instantly, "And I'll fill out the paperwork. It's something I want to do." 
You can't argue with that because you would be the same way. Still, you push, "I don't need it by Saturday. Please take your time?"
"Ok," he concedes but it feels like he is only doing so to appease you. But you will take it. 
You dump your laundry into the basket stored in the hallway with a little grunt. Almost immediately Matt is saying your name and asking if you are okay.
"Yup, yup, just trying to get some cleaning done while I can. Sorry for doing that in your ear."
"Do you need to go?" 
Your heart pangs with guilt at the question. You can feel the disappointment through the phone and you're quickly reassuring him, "No, I'm just picking up a few things, tidying up, you know. I will try to not -"
You are cut off as the door to the bedroom pushes open and Minnie shuffles out. Her headband is pulled down around her neck and she's rubbing at her eyes with one hand, the other limply holding Pig. You only just put her down so you are instantly concerned.
"Mouse? Is everything okay?" 
Matt says your name again, "what's going on?" 
You ignore him in favor of going to your daughter. She holds up her arms and you scoop her up, cradling her to your chest. 
"There's a monster outside," Minnie mumbles, burying her face in your neck. 
"There's a monster outside?" You confirm with her, still speaking into your phone.
"A monster?" Matt repeats, clearly confused, as your little one nods against you. 
"Okay, let's go check," you tell her, before finally answering the questions coming through the speaker, "Something woke Minnie up. I'm sorry, I do think I need to go now." 
"Is everything okay?" Matt sounds worried and something stirs in your chest at his concern. 
"It will be, we just need to go tell a monster to go home," you say, gently bouncing Minnie in your arms to soothe her, "Isn't that right, baby? We gotta tell him to go home."
She nods against you again, parroting in a sleepy little voice, "Go home."
You hear some rustling on the other end of the phone, the clicking of a door opening and the rush of wind. Matt must have stepped outside.
"Are you sure?"
His distress is sweet, in a way. You remember being terrified of every little upset when Minnie was a baby, but now you have gotten your groove.
"Yeah, we will be okay. It's just gonna take a bit to get her back to sleep," you say, carrying her into the bedroom. "I'll…um..we'll see you on Saturday? At 11:30?"
"Saturday at 11:30," Matt confirms. "I…" he trails off, then clears his throat. "Have a good rest of your night."
"Good night, Matt."
Minnie mimics you again, mumbling, "Good night, Matt" just as you hang up. You wonder if he heard it, or if it was cut off. 
You hope he did. 
You drop your phone off on the bedside table and bring Minnie over to the window. You are a few stories up and your bedroom overlooks an alleyway, as most do in the city. You hold your toddler with one arm and carefully unlock the window to open it about halfway. On the windowsill, there is a yellow mini spray bottle, covered in stickers like everything you own - you pick it up and offer it to Minnie.
She takes it, turning her little body to face the window. She aims it at the window screen and squeezes the trigger, sending out a little stream of Monster Repellent. 
"Go home, Monster," you say together. She gives another squirt before looking up at you.
"Is it gone?"
"Give him a few minutes and he'll be gone," you promise, taking the spray bottle and putting it back in its spot, "He's gotta pack up his Monster Suitcase before he goes home, but he won't bother you." 
She flops her head back down on your shoulder as you turn to bring her back to bed. 
"Do you want me to stay until you're asleep?" She makes an affirmative little noise 
You start the process of tucking her back into bed with Pig, kissing her forehead before helping to pull up her noise canceling headband. 
"Good night, Mouse."
"Good night. I love you, Mommy."
"I love you, too, baby. Sweet dreams."
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baiwu-jinji · 2 months
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I received a very thoughtful anon ask about Qi Rong and in the process of doing research for the ask, I came across a meta about Qi Rong on the Chinese website Zhihu that I absolutely loved, so I translated the meta into English - anon I will answer your ask ASAP, in the meantime I hope you're interested in this excellent meta:
I think Qi Rong's feelings for Xie Lian isn't that of a fan for his idol, but that of a child for an imaginary "father". So he wouldn't try to understand and study XL's character like Hua Cheng; he's only looking up to this "father figure".
This isn't a baseless conjecture - the relationship between father and son has always been a topic that can't be averted when it comes to Qi Rong. I'm guessing that when he was bullied and excluded by other kids in his childhood, it didn't occur to Qi Rong to hate the circumstances of his family; instead he wished for his father to stand up for him and help him teach those nasty kids a lesson. This wish had always existed in Qi Rong's heart and became a traumatising shadow of his childhood.
Whereas his cousin, the prince Xie Lian, who suddenly appeared in his life to help him, was unconsciously used by Qi Rong to fit his expectation of the "father". XL did what he expected a father to do, so he placed XL in his fantasies about a father. Since his abusive and useless father doesn't cut it, then someone as gentle and strong as XL must be the standard for what a "father" is like. Subconsciously Qi Rong had this idea.
Therefore I think a lot of the dumb and horrible things that Qi Rong did for XL is only due to the anxiety that a son feels towards the indifference of the "father", so he tried to do something compensatory to win the father's attention and approval; but this didn't work out at all.
This is also why he's good to Gu Zi, because Gu Zi is just another Qi Rong - he's abused by the father but still begs for the father's love and doesn't allow others to hurt his father. It's probably because Qi Rong understands what this feels like that he'd pretend to be a seemingly decent "father" for Gu Zi.
(Here the author also points out the connection between Qi Rong and Gu Zi based on their names, which needs to be explained to English readers in more detail - Qi Rong's name "Rong," in Chinese "容", is comprised of two parts: 宀 and 谷. The latter part is "Gu" (谷) as in Gu Zi's name, and the former part 宀 stands for a house or a home - in this sense the character "Rong 容" (Qi Rong) incorprates the character "Gu 谷" (Gi Zi) and provides a "home" or "shelter" for "Gu".)
Qi Rong shows off all kinds of places to the kid that he's never been to, deliberately bigs himself up, and protects the kid at the dire moment, because all of these are what Qi Rong hoped his father would do for him. However, Xie Lian was only a kid himself; how could he answer Qi Rong's expectations for a father?
Qi Rong undoubtedly loathes his biological father, because when Qi Rong was a kid, his father was useless and crass, made a laughing stock of Qi Rong and his mother and became the reason Qi Rong was mocked by other kids. But when Qi Rong needed his father and needed him to scold those kids, his father didn't care about him at all (probably only the father could accomplish this sort of task since Qi Rong's mother was depressed and sickly; this plot is repeated later on in Feng Xin and his son).
When the entire country was being destroyed, his other "father," Xie Lian, became a laughing stock too. XL didn't manage to help him before and after his death. For Qi Rong, this is a replay of the events that happened when he was five years old; this perfect "father" proves no different from his biological father.
So fundementally Qi Rong hates Xie Lian for the same reason that he hates his biological father. He indeed projected too many wishful fantasies on XL, but I think it's more about the son's disappointment towards a "father" instead of a believer's disappointment for a "god". In fact, whether XL activated the human face disease or whether he managed to saved Xianle is of secondary importance to Qi Rong; the complaints someone could voice out loud usually aren't what he actually cares about.
Of course, Qi Rong is possessed by the idea of avenging Xianle to some degree, otherwise he wouldn't have plotted revenge with other Xianle descendants. But what Qi Rong really cared about, he only managed to speak when his soul dissipated - it's what he always wanted to say to Xie Lian and his biological father but never could: "I worship and need you so much, but you don't care about me at all". This is more the case of a son who craves the father's love and complains about it. The relationship between Qi Rong and Gu Zi is comparable to the relationship between Jun Wu and Xie Lian. At least Gu Zi received some paternal love and won't grow up to be like Qi Rong, which is nice.
(For anyone interested in reading the original Chinese, here's the link: https://www.zhihu.com/question/372905885/answer/1735047946?utm_psn=1754070720630493184&fbclid=IwAR0eSI0gya5ERovl1C1Fphv2ZjnXGuKUalA378VWcZjoCj4NiUD7Pw6BDS0)
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