Switch!Reader 🤝 Switch!Johnny Where He Sucks The Strap And Calls You Daddy When You're Topping And

Taking It All In (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Part V

A/N: This is more than likely the last part of this unexpected series. I might be down to do one-shots about the series or something, but otherwise, I consider this series to be completed. I thank everyone who has requested something for this series and who has been reading them! I appreciate every single one of you! Requests are still open if you want to request something Pedro related! Thank you! <3

Word Count: 6, 196

Previously

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of guns, shooting, blood, and kidnapping.

Sometimes life puts you in situations and you’ll wonder what decisions you made that got you there. How did you get to a certain point in life where you wondered if you would make it out alive. Where was the turning point? 

“Can we talk?” You looked around, most of the kids had left already. There were only a few stragglers, probably waiting for their parents to pick them up or even taking their time walking home. “It’ll be quick,” she cautiously said. 

There were multiple decisions for you to make in front of you. You just didn’t know which one to take. Would you listen to your naive little heart and listen to your mother? Or would you listen to your brain, the one that held all the trauma stored in a little box, and walk away unscathed. “You shouldn’t be here,” you muttered. You looked up at her, her eyes pleading for you to listen to your heart. “How did you even find out where I go to school?” 

“I have my ways,” she hesitated. It made you feel uneasy, there weren’t many people who knew where you attended school and it was for good reason. 

You began to walk around her, “I don’t want to talk to you,” you stated. She grabbed your arm, causing you to withdraw it quickly from her grasp. “Don’t touch me,” you hissed. 

“Let’s just take a drive,” she suggested, glancing down to her jacket pocket where one of her hands was. You followed her gaze, noticing an object being pointed directly at you. “Please, just get in the car,” she gestured towards her car. Decisions, you could run. This was school grounds, she’d be stupid to do anything on school grounds, but was she that stupid? Or, you could get in the car. Your naive little heart no longer wanted to hear her out, it was terrified of the outcomes. “I just want to prove that I can be a good mother, Y/N. Just let me prove that to you.” 

You didn’t know if there could be any evidence that she was a good mother, not to you especially, maybe to her other kids. For you, she wasn’t a mother at all. Yeah, maybe to your siblings she was the best mother out there, but did she really have to prove that to you? You noticed the Principal walking out of the main building, he looked over at you and smiled. You smiled back, your mother was quick to notice the interaction, “Get in the car,” she hissed. 

You gave her a nod, following her to the car. You opened the passenger door, giving your Principal a quick glance. He knew only a certain few came to pick you up from school and he knew your father informed the office if someone other than him or his sister was going to pick you up. So, he was curious when he saw someone he didn’t recognize picking you up.

“This is a perfect day,” your mother began as she began to drive away from the school. “Sasha and Nathan are at a friend's for a play date, but Jack is picking them up in about an hour.” She smiled as she gave you a quick glance, “Oh come on, it’ll be fine!” 

“I don’t know how comfort-” 

“No,” she said sternly, “I’m going to prove to you I am a good mother.” 

You could hear the engine roar as she got onto the highway, you couldn’t help but glance at the speedometer. She was already going eighty on the highway and climbing. “C-can you slow down?” you asked. 

“I’m a good mother,” she whispered to herself. 

90 miles per hour. Swerving to avoid hitting cars. 

You could’ve run to your principal and could’ve taken the risk of her shooting the gun. You didn’t know how big of a risk it was, but you would have been safe right now. 

95 miles per hour. 

“Please, slow down,” you said a little louder. Hoping she could hear the desperation in your voice, the way it shook with fear. You felt the car begin to slow down, letting out a relieved breath, unclenching your fists that were held tightly on your lap. 

She got off the highway, she hasn’t said anything in the past few minutes. “Where are you taking me?” you asked as you looked at the unfamiliar streets you had passed. 

“Home,” she whispered. 

You gave her a confused look, “I-I don— my house isn’t in this direction.” 

“I know,” she muttered. 

You looked forward, watching as an unfamiliar neighborhood came into view. She wasn’t taking you to your home, she was taking you to hers.

~~ 

Today was one of the days Pedro wished there were two of him. One to run his errands and the other to just go do whatever Pedro does whenever he isn’t running errands. Luckily for him, Oscar was in town and he was able to join Pedro in his day of unfortunate events. 

“Again, Thanks,” Pedro began as Oscar helped him put together a new bookcase in the living room. They had tools all laid out on the floor, pieces of wood scattered around them. It was like they were two kids playing with Legos but with Ikea bookcase parts. 

“Like I said, it’s not a problem. Plus, it gives us a chance to talk.” Oscar cleared his throat before he continued, “How’s Y/N and the whole thing with her mom?” 

Pedro shrugged, “I don’t know, after the quince I spoke to Y/N. She was pretty hurt, I mean, why wouldn’t she be? Her mother left again. They were supposed to meet during the weekend but I pulled some strings and canceled the meetup. I’m just trying my best right now.” Oscar nodded, “I mean, there’s no parenting guide on what to do when your daughter's mother leaves in the middle of the quince.” 

Oscar chuckled, “No, but you could write one,” he suggested. A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, “expecting someone?” Oscar asked. 

Pedro shook his head, “Probably the Amazon delivery driver,” he got up from his place on the floor. “I swear, this girl sometimes orders things online and thinks I don’t notice bu-” He stopped midsentence as he opened the door, half expecting a man with a blue vest on the other side, but was surprised when he saw a man dressed in a nice suit. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were the Amazon delivery driver,” Pedro apologized. 

“Pedro?” The man asked. 

“Uh, yeah?” Pedro gave the man a confused look, “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“My name is Jack, I’m Gabriela’s husband.” 

To say Pedro was shocked was an understatement. He was shocked, confused, and a bit angry. “W-what are you doing here? How do you even-” 

“Look I’ll answer all those questions, but I need your help.” 

“My help?” 

Oscar walked over to the door, “everything okay?” 

Pedro shook his head, “you need to leave, Jack.” 

“No, you don’t understand,” Jack said desperately, “You and Y/N are in danger.” Pedro gave Jack a nod to continue, “Gabriela she’s off her meds and this morning we got into a big argument. It’s a whole story.” 

“Y/N doesn’t get home until an hour from now, I got time,” Pedro stated, opening the door for Jack. 

Jack walked in, “Gabriela wasn’t supposed to go to Y/N’s quince, as a matter of fact, I had no idea she had been in contact with Y/N the past few months.” Pedro led him into the living room, Jack sat down on the couch as Pedro and Oscar sat across him. 

“What do you mean?” Pedro asked. 

“Gabriela and I separated a few months ago,” Jack began. “I had noticed she was beginning to spiral and she had been neglecting her medication and the kids. So, I did what I thought was right, I took the kids to my mom's and had Gabriela sent to an institution where she could get help. The next thing I know, I hear she was out of the institution, but when I came to check on her, everything was fine. But I should’ve known better, she was just putting on a show.” Jack sighed, “Slowly I let her see the kids, that’s when she ran into Y/N. We live in Near Soho, Gabriela purposely brought the kids here in hopes of running into Y/N. That day I found out, I took the kids and left to my moms in anger.” 

“Wait,” Pedro was trying to put the pieces together, “She purposely did it?” Jack nodded, “Are you even running for governor?” 

“I was, until I found out about Y/N and I knew Gabriela having a secret like that, probably wouldn’t go that great with the election. I think it’s what made Gabriela spiral, she felt this need to fix everything. I partially blame myself, I was kind of hard on her about it.” 

Pedro was in disbelief, he was sickened at the idea of Gabriela purposely planting herself in places so that she could find you. “Why are you here, again?” Oscar asked. 

“As I had said before, Gabriela and I had an argument this morning. I had found out about her visitations and the quince, I was so angry and she was so desperate to make things right. During the argument, I found out that she hadn’t been taking her medication. I left to get some air and when I came back she was gone.” Pedro and Oscar looked at Jack confused, they still didn’t understand why he was there. “I then began to pack the rest of my stuff, I decided I was done with Gabriela, but in the midst of my packing, I realized that my gun was no longer in its safe. All that was in there was a note.” Jack uncrumbled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket, handing it to Pedro. 

“I’m going to make things right,” Pedro read. He looked back up at Jack, “Do you think she’s going to?” 

“I don’t know,” Jack responded. “I hope not, I can’t seem to find her anywhere and I was hoping you could help me?” 

Pedro looked at Oscar then back over at Jack, “Alright.” 

~~ 

After another minute in the car, she pulled up to one of the townhomes. Parking on the side of the street, she quickly got off, walking over to the passenger side to open the door for you. She gave you a huge grin as she led you up the small steps, “Welcome home,” she said as she opened the door to the townhome. 

You shook your head, “I-I should um, I should get home,” you shakingly said. 

Her smile quickly vanished, “Get inside, Y/N.” One of her hands went directly to her jacket pocket. You knew what she was indicating, you took in a deep breath as you stepped inside the home. It was nice and felt welcoming even under the circumstances. 

There was a hallway that led to different rooms and portraits hung throughout the walls of the hallway. Photos of the family. Some of these photos you had seen on her social media, from the time you had just found her. Some you had never seen. The ones you have never seen, your mother looked nothing like she did on her social media. She looked different. Depressed. Herself. 

She looked like herself. 

Like her true self. 

It was apparent in the photos that she didn’t want to be there, you could see it in her eyes that she wasn’t happy. You knew that look, mostly because you carried that look from time to time. 

“That was taken shortly after Sasha was born,” your mother said as you looked at a portrait of the family. In the photo, your mother carried a small infant, who you assumed to be Sasha as a baby. 

“You look so sad,” you whispered. 

“I wasn’t,” she snapped. She cleared her throat, “Come on,” she said as she took hold of your arm and led you into the living room. “Sit,” she demanded as she gestured towards the couch, you hesitated, wondering if sitting was the right thing to do. It gave you less of an advantage to run if you were sitting, “Sit!” she yelled. You quickly sat down, fear had taken over your body. It controlled your every move like a puppeteer. 

You heard your phone vibrating in your pocket, you took it out, making eye contact with your mother as your phone continued to vibrate in your hands. “It’s my dad,” you stated. “I should’ve been home by now.” 

She took the gun out from her jacket pocket, pointing it towards you, “Answer it,” she demanded. “No funny business.” 

You felt a chill run down your spine, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you answered the call. “Yeah?” 

“Mija! Thank god you answered! We went to your school, but you’re not here!” he began to say, you could hear the sense of relief in his voice.

“It’s early release, I forgot to tell you that we got out an hour early,” you stated. 

“Look, I need you to get home as soon as possible, okay? Your mother… she’s uh… She’s going through some mental breakdown,” you looked over at your mother, she still had the gun pointed toward you. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I won’t be home for another hour, I need you to lock the door and-” 

“Yeah, enchiladas sound nice for dinner,” you interrupted. 

“Mija, what are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know, Dad, maybe some rice?” You let out a forced chuckle, hoping your father would catch on. 

Pedro, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks, “Mija, are you safe?” 

“No, you know how I hate Bell peppers.” Bell peppers. There it was. Your code word. Once you and your dad had placed back when you were little, one you never thought you would have to use, but here you were. 

Pedro looked over at Jack, his heart had dropped. “Bell peppers,” he muttered, grabbing Jack’s attention. “Y/N, I need you to try to tell me where you are.” 

You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh, “I don’t know.” you looked over at your mother, who had begun making her way towards the window, the gun still pointed at you. She was out of earshot range, though, “it’s not my home,” you whispered.

Your mother quickly turned around, “get off the phone right now,” she demanded. 

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes, you couldn’t just hang up, “Papi, te amo,” you said desperate to make sure your dad knew you loved him. 

Pedro felt the anger build up inside him, “No, Y/N. Don’t say that, I’m going to find you okay?” 

“Off the phone now!” your mother yelled. She grabbed the phone and hung up the call for you. 

Pedro heard your mother's voice, he knew you were with her. He knew you weren’t safe. 

“What happened?” Jack asked. 

“Gabriela has her,” Pedro clutched his phone in his hands.  

“Did she say where she was?” Jack was just as desperate as Pedro was to find them. He knew Gabriela had reached her breaking point and was afraid to find out what she was capable of. 

“It wasn’t her home,” he muttered. “That’s what she said.” But what could it mean? The only place that you wouldn’t consider home, there were many places that you wouldn’t consider home. But no, that’s not it. It had to be a place where it should be your home, but wasn’t. Pedro looked up at Jack, “Where did you say you lived again?” 

“Near Soho…” Jack realized what Pedro was trying to get at, “Shit!” 

They ran towards Jack’s car, wasting no time getting in, “How long would it take for us to get there?” 

“If I break all the laws? About fifteen minutes.” 

“It’s a good thing you’re a politician,” Pedro commented. 

~~ 

Your mother fumed as she lowered the gun, “Alright, it’s okay,” she repeated to herself, “this can all be fixed.” You watched as she began to pace, “I just need you to hear me out, okay?” She pointed the gun toward you again, “Can you do that?” 

“I feel like I have no choice at the moment,” you spat. 

She rolled her eyes, “Enlighten me for a moment.” 

“You’re acting insane—” 

“I’m not insane!” She yelled, “Don’t act like you are not like me because I know you’re just like me. Hell, you’re the spitting image of me. Mentally and physically.” 

You shook your head, getting up from the couch, “I’m nothing like you.” 

“Sit down,” she commanded. 

You shook your head again, “I don’t want to sit down.” 

“No, you’re gonna sit down and you’re going to listen to me!” This was a side neither you nor your father knew about. A side she never showed him. Was it a breaking point for her? Seeing you again? How happy you were without her? Tears began to well up in her eyes, “I never wanted to leave you–” 

“But you did,” you stated. 

“I had to,” She hissed. 

You shook your head, “you didn’t. You left because you wanted to. Staying was always an option for you too.” 

“No! Staying meant I wouldn’t be able to breathe!” 

“Then why did you stay for them!? Why not for me? Was I not worth it?” 

Your mother held her head with her hands, “No, no, no,” she began to mutter, “I’m a good mother!” 

“I’m not saying you’re not,” you began. 

“Yes, you are!” She pointed the gun back at you, “You don’t know me!” 

“You’re right, I don’t.” You held your hands up, “I’m everything you are, just a different version.” 

“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” You shook your head. Your instincts were to tell you to just agree with her, get her to calm down. Maybe, somehow, you could talk her out of this. “I went through hell and then I had you and I couldn’t be happy! I thought maybe having you could give me some sort of happiness.” Tears welled up in her eyes, “And seeing Pedro so happy, I couldn’t tear that from him! But now, now we can build a home together,” she smiled. 

You glanced at the clock that was hung on the wall, it had only been ten minutes since the phone call. Although, it felt like longer. You had hoped that your dad understood what you were trying to say, you hoped that help was on the way, “I-I have a home.” 

“No!” She groaned, “I can build you a better home! Here, with your siblings, where you belong!” She said hopefully, waving the gun around her and gesturing towards the home she had built for herself. “This is where you belong,” she muttered, “Why can’t you see that?” 

“I-I can.” 

“You’re just saying what I want to hear.” 

You shook your head, “N-No, I can see us here. Me with my siblings,” her eyes lit up. “Don’t you see it, Mom?” Tears in your eyes, your voice shook. “I-I can.” 

She nodded, “I see it, baby.” 

“B-But I have to go home first.” 

Her smile vanished and you could see the darkness begin to fill her eyes, “No.” 

“Please,” you cried. 

You both flinched when you heard loud banging coming from the door, “Gabriela!” You heard a voice yell. 

Your mother took a couple steps closer to you, the gun still pointed at you. 

On the other side of the door, Jack was on the phone with the police as he banged on the door. “Fuck this!” Pedro yelled as he motioned for Jack to step back. 

“Pedro, we should wait for the police.” 

“I’m not fucking waiting! That’s my daughter in there!” He lifted his leg, putting all his weight onto the door causing it to fall to the ground. Pedro ran into the apartment with Jack not too far behind. He stopped in his tracks when he made it to the living room. 

“One step closer and I’ll pull the trigger,” Gabriela threatened. She was only a few feet away from you, the gun aimed in your direction. 

Pedro lifted his hands, hoping to reveal to Gabriela that he meant no harm. Because he didn’t, all he wanted was for his daughter to be safe, “Gabriela, please,” he said softly, lifting his foot slightly. 

Gabriela cocked the gun, “I swear to god I’ll do it!” 

“Papi, please,” you looked at your father with wide pleading eyes.  

Pedro’s eyes never left you. “Shit,” Jack muttered as he saw the situation in front of him. “Gabriela, what are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to make things right!” She yelled, “Why can’t anyone see that?!” 

Jack let out a deep breath, “Gabriela, you need to let Y/N go, okay?” 

She shook her head vigorously, “No, I can make things right.” 

Jack shook his head, “You can’t, Gabriela. The police are on their way, there’s no making this right anymore.” 

Tears began to well up in Gabriela’s eyes, “I can make this right.” 

Sirens could be heard from the distance, Pedro still had his eyes on you. Every atom in your body wanted to run towards him, but you knew it wouldn’t be the right decision. Yet, all the decisions you made today led you to this moment. 

“There be here any moment, Gabriela, let’s just make it easier for them. Let’s put the gun down, alright?” Jack suggested as he took a step forward. 

Gabriela moved her finger to the trigger, “Jack, please, she’ll shoot if you take a step closer,” Pedro stated. 

Jack let out a sigh, “Gabby, shooting her isn’t going to fix this!” 

“Shut up!” She yelled. 

There were voices coming from the hallway, “Gabby,” Jack pleaded. 

Before anyone knew it, police officers ran into the living room. 

“Put the gun down!” One of the officers yelled as he pointed his gun at her. 

“Don’t shoot! We got civilians!” Another yelled.  

A few more officers began walking into the living room. Gabriela looks over at you, she was trapped, you could see the panic in her eyes, “I’m sorry,” she whispers. 

“Gabriela, No!” Pedro yelled. Gabriela pulled the trigger before one of the officers pushed her to the ground. At the sound of the gunshot, you ducked to the ground. 

“She’s down!” one of the officers yelled. 

Pedro ran over to your side, pulling you into his arms, “you’re okay,” he breathed. 

Adrenaline rushed over you, as your vision began to blur. You could feel warmness soaking through your shirt, you looked up at your dad who was looking into your eyes. Your hand felt around the area, and you looked down to see the blood soaking through your shirt. 

Pedro followed your gaze, his heart instantly dropping at the sight of the redness oozing through your shirt, “No, no, no, no!” He began to apply pressure to the wound. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay!” 

The adrenaline was slowly leaving you and you began to feel the pain of the bullet burning and piercing through your skin. You let out a loud whimper as your dad put more pressure on the wound, “I need some help!” Pedro called out. Officers began to put in a call for an ambulance as they surrounded the father and daughter. Pedro, in anger, turned to face Gabriela, “Why would you do this!?” He yelled. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Gabriela’s eyes never left the ground, she was handcuffed and dragged away from the scene. 

“Dad,” you called out in fear, “it hurts.” Tears pool in your eyes, as you struggle to catch your breath. 

“Breathe, Mija,” Pedro choked out, he was trying his best to be brave in front of you, but in all honestly he was terrified. “It’s gonna be okay.” Every word he had said was muffled as if you were in another room. “Look at me, Y/N!” Your eyes were darting from one spot to the other, “Baby, I need you to look at me, it’s gonna be okay.” You tried your hardest to focus on your dad's voice, on his face, on all the details, but it was becoming difficult by the second. The pain in your chest was becoming a distant ache as if it were an old wound. 

Your breaths were short and shallow, “No, no, no!” Pedro cried, “Stay with me!” He placed his free hand on your cheek, watching as your eyes struggled to stay open. “Quedate conmigo!” he placed his forehead against yours, “Quedate conmigo,” he cried. (stay with me) 

One of the officers knelt down beside Pedro, “Get that EMT in here now!” he yelled as he gently took you from your fathers' arms. He laid you on the ground and began checking for a pulse. Pedro continued to hold pressure on your wound. 

“Please, she’s all I have,” He pleaded with the officer. A second later a paramedic came running in with a stretcher. Pedro didn’t have a chance to breathe before they took you from him. He watched as they quickly began assessing you as they took you back to the ambulance. He made sure to be in there with you, even if they had suggested it wasn’t the best idea. He didn’t care, he wanted to be with you. He needed to. He held your hand, as they worked on you on the ride to the hospital. 

When he arrived at the hospital he wasn’t allowed past certain doors, meaning that he had to wait in the lobby with his blood-stained shirt. Pedro knew he would have to call someone sooner or later and he felt that it wasn’t the right time to be alone. 

He dialed the first number he could think of, he listened as the phone rang for a few seconds, “Pedro?” Pedro let out a small sob, “Pedro, Que te pasa?” his sister asked.

“I need you here, Javiera.” 

“Where are you?” His sister didn’t ask any other questions as soon as he said his location. She was there within minutes and she was by her brothers' side making sure he had a shoulder to lean on as they waited for the doctors to come out. 

“Get some rest, Pedro,” Javiera softly said. 

He could feel his eyes growing heavy. “Yeah, we’ll wake you if anything happens,” Oscar chimed in. He had arrived not too long after Javiera. It had now been four hours since they took you in and there was still no news. Pedro felt hopeful, that maybe if they were taking long it meant that everything was going well. 

He shook his head, “I need to stay up,” he muttered as he gently slapped himself, but he was exhausted. He always thought it was funny how crying made him so tired. How one could just tire themself out by just being so emotional. But keeping his eyes open was becoming a losing battle. 

~~ 

“Papi,” Pedro heard a small voice, he groaned in his sleep as he turned his body around. A small giggle erupted, “Papi!” 

He groaned once again, he knew that voice. “Que queres, Muñeca?” (what do you want?) 

“Tengo hambre,” you sighed as you lay on top of your father. His eyes slowly opened with the weight of his small five-year-old daughter on top of him.  (I’m hungry) 

“Tienes hambre? Y? Por que es mi problema?” (You’re hungry? And? Why is that my problem) You erupted in a giggle again, Pedro couldn’t maintain the straight face any longer. 

“Papi!” you pleaded. 

“Y/n!” He pleaded. 

“Tienes que dar me de comer!” (you have to give me food) 

Pedro sighed, “Okay, Princessa! Pero! Primero, vamos a?” (But, first, we’re going to?) You shrugged, “Vamos a dar la princessa… cosquillas!” (We’re going to tickle the princess) His hands went directly under your arms,\ and you erupted in a fit of laughter as he wouldn’t stop. 

“Papi, ya no!” 

He stopped, “Okay, okay, vamos a comer.” (let’s go eat)

You jumped off your dad, quickly jumping off the bed. “Quiero huevos con hamon y tocino!” (I want eggs with ham and bacon). 

“Ah, quieres un omelette?” You nodded your head vigorously as you both made your way into the kitchen. “Looks like Oscar left for the day,” Pedro muttered under his breath as he opened the fridge. He let out a deep breath as he took in the view of the almost empty fridge. There was enough food for him to cook one omelet and only one. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you nudge your way under your dads to look into the fridge. In your eyes, you didn’t understand why your father seemed so sad when he looked in the fridge, you didn’t understand that a fridge was not supposed to be this empty. But Pedro wasn’t going to tell you that. 

He wanted to contain whatever happiness he could in you. He wanted you to have a childhood that didn’t involve you worrying over things you didn’t have to worry about. Things you shouldn’t worry about. 

“Nothing,” he grinned from ear to ear, “Let’s make that omelet!” Throughout the past few years, Pedro had become really good at making omelets. It was only because it was you almost always requested and he appreciated it because it was some of the cheaper ingredients he was able to get. Other than boxed mac and cheese and packets of maruchan. He was feeding you college dorm meals but you were enjoying every last one of them. 

Pedro placed the plate in front of you as he sat down beside you, “Gracias!” you beamed as you dug your fork into the omelet and took a bite. You dug your fork in again, but this time you offered the bite to your dad who gladly accepted. 

He felt his stomach silently growl with that one bite of the omelet. Oh, how he wished for another bite, just one more and he would be satisfied. That’s all he needed to get through the day, one more bite, and maybe he could make it until lunch when he could go get groceries. 

“Papi,” your voice interrupting his thoughts, “Por que no estas comiendo?” (Why aren’t you eating?) 

“Porque las princesas come primero” (Because the princesses eat first). 

“El Rey no come con la princesa?” (The king doesn’t eat with the princess?) 

Pedro chuckled, kissing the top of your head, “No, the king eats later when he makes sure that the princess has everything she needs before he decides to take anything, y sabes por que?” You shook your head, “Porque quieren tanto a la princesa. Y sabes quien es la princesa?” (Because they love that Princess that much, and you know who is the princess?) You pointed towards yourself, “Si! Tu eres la princesa!” (Yes, you are the princess) He planted a kiss on your cheek, “Now eat!” 

You giggled as you took another bite of your omelet, it was torture for Pedro, but if you had asked him if he would relive this moment he’d say yes in a heartbeat.

~~ 

Pedro woke up with a jolt, for a second he had forgotten that he was in the hospital. Forgotten all the events that took place and for a second, he was in his happy place. Now the second was gone and all he could do was search for that feeling he got when he was in that place. 

“Pedro, the doctors will be out in a bit,” Oscar stated. 

Pedro sat up in his chair, “How long was I out?” 

“About an hour,” Javiera stated. 

Seconds later, two doctors wearing blue scrubs walked into the lobby. Pedro stood up, “please,” he muttered to himself. 

“Family of Y/N Pascal?” Pedro nodded. “She stable for now,” Pedro let out a relieved breath, “but the bullet barely missed her heart. It was touch and go there for a while.” The doctor took in a deep breath, “It’ll be a long journey or recovery, but she’ll be okay.” 

Pedro felt the tears well up in his eyes, “Thank you,” he sobbed. 

The doctor smiled, “She’s being taken to post-surgery, you can see her if you’d like.” 

“Thank you,” Javiera said as she shook the doctor's hands. 

“I have to see her,” Pedro stated. 

“Do you want one of us to go with you?” Oscar asked. 

He shook his head, “I just need to see her.” They gave him a nod, “I’ll call you guys up-”

“Don’t worry about us, Pedro. We’ll be here whenever you’re ready,” Oscar stated. 

He thanked them before walking over to the elevator. Pedro had to ask a couple nurses to help him find his way around the hospital, it took him about fifteen minutes but eventually, he found his way to your room. He took in a deep breath before entering, he was scared of what he would see, but he was also anxious to see you. 

He opened the door, letting out a deep breath as he took in the image of you laying in the bed. Wires hung from all over, a tube in your nose to help you breathe, and IVs in multiple places. He hated seeing you this way, hated how you were in this condition. Hated how he couldn’t have kept you safe. 

Walking over to your bedside, he pulled up a chair that was nearby. He sat down and took hold of your hand, “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep you safe,” he placed a small kiss on your hand. 

What he didn’t know was that you heard him and if you could have responded, you would’ve told him that it wasn’t his fault. That no matter how hard he tried, he could never fully keep you safe, that sometimes life is dangerous, even if you think you’re making the right decisions. 

Pedro sat by your bedside, waiting for you to wake up. He watched as nurses walked in and out of the room to check on your vitals. They reminded him that it could be anywhere from a few hours to even weeks, it all depended on your body. It didn’t matter to him, he would wait until the end of time for you to wake up. 

Within a few hours though, you had slowly begun to wake up. Your chest felt sore as you slowly moved around in the bed. You groaned at the feeling, “Easy,” you heard your dad say. 

“Thirsty,” your voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and scratchy. Like when you unexpectedly slept for twenty-four hours during summer break after pulling an all-nighter. Your tongue felt thick in your mouth, and your eyes fluttered open. They took a few seconds to adjust to the bright lights above you. 

You saw your dad walk over to you with a cup of water and a straw. He held the cup for you with one hand and the straw with the other. He set it down on the bedside table once you were done, “You okay?” You shrugged, “Do you remember what happened?” 

You nodded, “The movies make it seem like getting shot was like stepping on a leggo.” 

Your dad couldn’t help but chuckle, “You have no idea how happy I am right now.” You gave him a smile, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Yeah, you do.” 

He shook his head, “I don’t and it scares me. I don’t ever want to lose my blessing.” 

You grabbed his hand, “You won’t.” He smiled and placed a kiss on the back of your hand, “You know, it wasn’t your fault right?” 

He sighed, “We don’t have to talk about this.” 

“But it wasn’t,” you stated. “You can’t always keep me safe and you need to know that shit happens.” 

“Looks who is giving who advice.” 

“Dad,” you said sternly. “It wasn’t your fault.” Tears began to well up in his eyes, Pedro felt like he needed to hear it from someone else. To hear that the events were not his fault. 

To hear that he had done his best because he had. He broke down the door when who knows what could have happened if he hadn’t. 

“Te amo,” he whispered as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. Throughout the years you both survived multiple things. Your father helped you through your depression and your self-harm, you are each other's rocks. He made sure you had a roof over your head and food in your stomach, no matter the situation. There were good and bad times, but he always made sure to keep you oblivious to the bad because no matter how hard it got for him he wasn’t going to let it ruin your childhood. You thanked him for that because you knew he loved you that much. 

He noticed how quiet you had gotten, staring at the wall in front of you, “Everything okay?” He asked.

You sighed, “Yeah, just… Just taking it all in.” 

Fin.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213 @boiohboii @drowning-in-paragraphs @stoneredsworld @xmurph7

hello beloveds ☺️

Here’s an Ominis x mc playlist + some doodles 🐍🖤

omg ellie meeting baby for the first time?? like after giving birth and ellie just being in love and in awe

this plot point needs to be discussed over a nice cuppa tea 🤵‍♂️ we need to ponder. we need to ensconce this in the deepest backwoods of our noggins. we need to consume this perpetually. this is the kind of shit that has me curling up into a soft ball crying over the softness of a situation like that. explosive softness rather like the intense emotion of meeting baby for the first time delivers so tenderly because poor ellie has such a soft spot for children. she will literally hold that child until nigh morningtime— assuming reader gives birth during the night since i think birth occurs more commonly then, either way i can see her just cradling the newborn and showing off sundry necessities from your hospital bag like a fucking haul, giving a whole tour of the hospital room, "aand.. this is the painfully tiny bathroom. bask in it, you won't be seeing another one for the next few years. instead, you get to shit yourself, and nobody will bat an eye!" literally the most oddball things simply to interact with 'em. although, for anything directly after birth, she legit won't get out of your boobspace during initial skin–to–skin time. wrestles her own shirt off since she wants to participate in it as well, speaking pleasantly soft at the level of a gale, "you've had 'em for at least thirty, babe. can i just— for a little bit, it'll be fine—" and her pry fingers are already swooping under to collect the baby, scrunching her face into a wince when her decision kickstarts a shriek and cry, "jesus, fuck, i'm sorry, it's just your other mom! can't i say hi?" her excitement definitely clouded over the obvious reality that babies indeed cry, like hell. but her, steady in a chair with one leg flicked over the other, clasping the baby to her warm, bare chest, never letting go even past the point of falling asleep whilst cradling; utmost precious sight to grace my imagination. that and ellie pecking little kisses every few minutes. overall, she is so hands–on immediately. skin–to–skin cures her soul i think.

DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO

my professional babyholder

This mans got me in a chokehold ahahahaaa 🫠

don't tell him I said that

oh.

Headcanon that lumity fill out like their moms and have four beautiful children.

The middle one is biologically conceived through magic. The other three are adopted.

Demon - Katris

Mixed human-witch - Azura (inherited hair from Amitys side of the family)

Witch - Oscura (name meaning darkness)

Human - Manuel (named after Manny, Luz’s dad)

Price is so over it