#[ if anything; having negative thoughts about her only means she's on your mind. it means you're unnerved but more importantly... ] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lisafication · 6 months

Text

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game.

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her!

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling.

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?!

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle!

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to.

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him.

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #andrew graves #ashley graves #spoilers #multipost

1K notes · View notes

sykostyles · 2 months

Text

let you love me 1.0

wc: 3.3k summary: in which y/n is a 26 year old bakery owner and she can't quite get this whole "love" thing right; settling on finding solace in being alone. One day, Jackson Cole: an egotistical, but oh so charismatic professional quarterback comes along and swears he can change her mind.. and for a while he does. nearly two years of breaking down her walls.. but they seem to argue about one thing a lot. y/n's "negativity". she swears she's not trying ro be a pessimist.. it just works out better for her if she keeps her expectations low. But what happens when she meets a handsome stranger, who wants nothing more than to see her smile? Will she push everything away again or will she finally accept the love she deserves? or ; tldr sunshine!harry x grumpy! afab reader part two, three, extra

a/n: firstly, I need to thank @freedomfireflies for being so kind, and accepting, and encouraging.. and so many other wonderful adjectives.. but seriously, thank you for giving me the courage to just take the plunge and write the damn thing. anddd for being my beta reader!! getting mother fireflies' stamp of approval has to mean its worthy for everyone else to see.. right? welcome to my first story! please do tell if you enjoyed! (there will be more to this, I'm working on it now <3)

cw: this story contains suggestive and explicit language, minor descriptions of violence, and verbal abuse. please do not continue if these topics upset you!

You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. You weren’t sure why you thought this time would be any different. Because he was somebody? Because he had a title? Or was it because he showed a genuine interest in you? Was it because he made the effort unlike most of your previous partners? You weren’t sure. The only thing you were sure of? This time, it hurt. A lot.

You curse yourself as you walk hastily back to get back to your car at the far end of the parking lot. Jackson had a lot of nerve asking you to bring him his practice bag all the way from your apartment, to then basically dump you in the stadium corridor. As you’re rounding the final corner to finally escape the thickening air in the stadium, you’re completely lost in your thoughts, thinking back to the conversation you had just left behind..

“Hey, baby, thanks for bringing that. Coach was about to have my ass again.” Jackson breathes out as he sees you round the corner near the locker rooms. He takes the bag from your grasp, and places his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you into his front. Your hands instinctively reach for the nape of his neck; nimble fingers tangle in his wet hair at the base.

“Oh, but of course! Who would I be to not close up my shop early, again. Run all the way home to get your bag, again. Run all the way here just to step in and save the day for my big, strong man? Again.” You giggle, leaning up for a kiss.

That’s how it’s always been. Y/N is as sarcastic and as teasing as they come. She explains it as “playful bullying” and swears she doesn’t mean anything by it. She has genuine feelings in there somewhere, but she thinks nobody but her needs to know that. She just chooses to portray her affection in rather questionable ways.. In speaking terms, if she’s not being “mean” to you, she doesn’t like you. But she’s tried so hard to get better at it. She swears.

“Do you really have to do that now?” Jackson asks, tilting his head out of the way, dodging your kiss. You look up at him with shocked eyes.

“Do what? Save your ass? As you so graciously put it.” You say, rolling your eyes, attempting to kiss your boyfriend for a second time.

“No, Y/N, that.” He says, trying to pull from your grasp, rejecting you yet again.

“Jackson, I’m not following. Use your words.” you say, turning his head to force him to keep eye contact.

He wasn’t running from this when you spent forty minutes of your evening bringing him his bag for the umpteenth time in your relationship. Not to mention the possible business you're missing out on by closing early. Again.

“Oh my god, you’re still doing it! You’re talking to me like I’m stupid.” he says, stepping back again, attempting to free himself from your hold.

You stand there, stunned.

“He really is like all the others..” flashes in your mind.

“In what world is me teasing you about bringing you your practice bag, again, insinuating that you’re stupid?” You ask, reaching up to cup his face. “Forgetful? Maybe.” Your thumb making its way across the apple of his cheek

“See, you can't even make one single statement without attacking my character, even when you’re trying to explain yourself.”

“I’m not trying to explain myself, Jackson, I’m trying to understand what you’re talking about. And I’m not attacking your character, Jacky, I’m just teasing you. You know that.”

“You’re always like this. I can’t deal with this right now.” He says, grabbing your wrist, pulling your touch from his face.

“Can’t deal with what? Jackson, I haven’t done anything. Are you having a bad day or something? You were fine this morn– ” You start to say, tugging your wrist from his grasp.

“Just– Go home. I can’t deal with you right now, okay? I have a practice to get to.” He says, turning to walk into the locker room, but is stopped dead in his tracks..

“Jackson Wyatt Cole, you are not just going to walk away from this right now! You can’t just spout this nonsense and then turn into a child when asked to explain yourself. Now, either explain yourself or find someone else to bring you your bag the next time you forget it.” You seethe.

His head ticks to the side before he slowly turns to face you. Seeing the face you’d grown to love over the last nearly two years shouldn’t scare you, but in this moment you did not recognize him.

“You have got to be the definition of ungrateful.” Oh, he wants to do this now?

“For the greater part of two years I have given you everything and you still think you can talk to me like that?” Jackson starts to raise his voice, noticing the growing audience in the locker room hallway, and the curious gazes from all directions. Please don’t do this now..

“You’re always so mean to me. You know that?” I swear I don’t mean to be..

“You make me question every choice I make.” I’m just an overthinker, I don’t mean anything by it..

“Even the other girlfriends and wives ask how I deal with your attitude." Okay, ouch.

“You don’t think before you speak, it makes you look so rude.” That one’s true.. I’m trying, I promise..

“You’re so unbelievably condescending when someone tries to make friends with you.” I’m sorry.. I swear I don't mean anything by it..

“You think you’re right in every instance, including now. You could have just given me my bag, gotten a kiss and been on your way. But no, you’re here, holding me up, by being a right bitch. So, maybe I should find someone else, because all I can see right now is someone I’m not sure I want to waste my time and effort on anymore.” Okay.. wow. Um. Alright.. Lay it all out in front of your teammates, why don’t you?

You just let him sit there and berate you. Like a child.

That was it. He’d broken through that exterior. That rock solid exterior that you’d spend years building up. It all came tumbling down with just a few words from someone you thought you loved; someone you thought finally loved you. This is what it always came down to when you argued; your inability to see how great things were around you, always settling on the negative sides of things. Always responding with snarky comments, never meeting anyone elses enthusiasm, etc. Normally, you’d be able to hold your own and fight back, but he was using your insecurities and anxieties against you, with an audience nonetheless! How did harmless teasing turn into this?

“I’m.. s-sorry, Jacky.” You finally choked out, tears threatening to spill over. You wanted to stand here and keep arguing. “I’m not any of those things!” You want to yell. But deep down, you know that you are. Not by your own choice though. Through years of failed relationships and tainted family ties, you had become this person. You became this angry, pessimistic, shell of a girl who really only wanted to love, and to be loved, but you had no idea how to really do either of those things.

You never intended to turn out this way; it just happened.

And it just makes it easier in situations like this..

Right?

“Go home, Y/N. We’ll talk later.’ Jackson sighs, leaving you in the corridor.

Rounding that corner in the parking lot, you don’t even spare a glance and end up walking right into the broad chest of a man. Hands reach up and grasp your shoulders, keeping you from toppling over. Your hands shoot up, grabbing the lapels of his jacket.

“Woah there, love. I gotcha.” you hear.

Looking up, you’re met with the loveliest emerald eyes you’d ever seen. A smile, that should be illegal to be that bright.. And the jawline? Don’t even get me started! But, with your current state, you couldn’t have cared less in that moment what he looked like.

You slowly straightened up, dropping your grasp on his jacket.

“Sorry.” you stated, your eyes looking anywhere but his face. “You can let go now.”

“My apologies, Love.” The man says, letting his hold on your shoulders go. He studies you for a moment, glancing over the features of your face. Taking in your flushed cheeks, teary and swollen eyes, and your all but quivering bottom lip.

You roll your eyes at his use of the moniker again.

“Don’t call me that.” You mutter, glancing around, noticing the band of guys trailing behind this stranger.

He chuckles, “Well, what should I call you? M’ Harry, by the way.” He asks, reaching inside his jacket, he grabs a tissue and holds it out towards you.

“Does it matter?” You bite out, ignoring his gesture. “I’m kind of in a hurry, here. So if you don’t mind.” You say, starting to walk around him. “This is exactly what Jackson was talking about.” you think to yourself.

But you deter none, and continue your journey to your car. Once inside, the tears just flow.

Jackson was supposed to be different. He’s the one who sought you out after all.

He met you when he was picking up a cake his dad ordered for his mothers birthday.

He was smitten ever since.

Made all the efforts to make you feel special. Stopped in your bakery every single day to bring you coffee from your favorite shop down the street. Flowers were delivered constantly; especially since you mentioned that yellow tulips were your favorite.

“I don’t really date anymore.” You admitted when he’d asked you to let him take you out for the thousandth time.

“Too many bad experiences?” He questions.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You frowned, thinking back on a few of them.

Eventually, he slowly started to break down your walls and swore he’d change your mind. Even went so far as to listen to your worries and promised to face them with you..

But here he was, using them against you; just like everyone else did.

What you didn’t know, the moment you were out of sight, the man that you had left standing there turned to his assistant on his right,

“Ryan, was that the woman arguing with Cole?”

“Indeed, sir. Would you like her banned from stadium grounds for speaking to you like that?” Ryan asks, pulling his phone from his jacket.

“On the contrary, Ryan.” I intend to put a smile back on her face. “Please, get me her information.”

“Right away, Mr. Styles.”

Getting back to your apartment was a task in and of itself, considering it's hard to see when you’re bawling your eyes out. Walking in, you’re immediately met with the dread of Jackson eventually coming home.

You shed yourself of your jacket, and set your keys down on the counter. Glancing around the kitchen, you stop your gaze on the vase of flowers that was delivered to you just two mornings ago. Approaching the counter, you pick up the card stuck to the front of the vase.

“Saw these and thought of you. Hope they brighten your day a little. Have a great day, my love. -Jackson”

What had happened in the last two days?

What had happened since this morning?

You sat there immediately picking apart every interaction you’ve had with him over the time span.. You thought everything was fine. He usually loved your playful banter. He never complained before about your snide tongue when it came to him. He claimed it was one of his favorite things about you..

What changed since this morning?

“Okay, tough guy, I get it, you’re the boss.” You chuckle, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Although you don’t make it very far before you’re tugged right back down, being caged in by the man above you, sending you into a fit of giggles

“Oh, princess, I don't think you do.” Jackson says, sliding his hand up your side before settling on the side of your neck.

“Princess? Wouldn’t that mean you’d have to be a prince?”

“Does that bother you?” He questions.

“Well, considering you’re more of a frog than a prince, I don’t think it’s very accurate”

“What did you just call me?” He asks, wrapping his fingers lightly around the front of your throat. A sly smile forms on his face at the feeling of your breath hitching beneath his fingertips.

“A frog. Do you want me to spell it for you, baby?” You quip, smirking as you feel him increase the pressure on the sides of your throat.

“You’re going to forget how to spell your own name by the time I'm done with you, brat.”

“Mm, is that a threat or a promise, tough guy?” You challenge, reaching up to tangle your hands in his hair.

“I’ll let you decide, princess.” He says, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.

Normally he could go back and forth with you without a thought. Did he not find it playful anymore? Was he repulsed by you now? Did he really want to find someone else?

He was fine this morning!

You were driving yourself crazy. You weren’t sure you wanted to fight anymore. Not just fight with him, but fight for him. You sat back and thought more about what exactly he’d said to you. “Even the other wives and girlfriends ask how I deal with your attitude.”

So were you the topic of conversation a lot? Was your inability to act like the other (mostly) fake girlfriends and wives a problem?

Were you really that big of a problem?

You knew you could be a handful, but you never thought it would be like this.

Luckily for you, your bakery still has an apartment unit upstairs. Your old bed was currently calling your name, so, you made a drastic decision at that moment and you were going to stick to it.

You were going to remove yourself from the situation before it could get turned into anything else. It was time to run. Not that you were going to run far, just away from whatever this was turning into, no matter how much it hurt in this moment

Eventually, you stood and walked to your shared bedroom. You grabbed your carry-on suitcase, which was always packed for the times you were given no notice about accompanying Jackson to an away game, and you retreated back into the living room.

You grabbed a notebook and a pen from Jackson’s office, and had a seat at the kitchen island. Just as you were about to start writing what you were thinking, the front door swung open and in walked Jackson.

“H-hey.” you squeaked out, dropping your pen on the counter.

“Mm, hey.” he responds, dropping his bag on the counter next to you. He walks towards the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and walking back to be across from you at the island.

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding his chin towards the open notebook in front of you, seeing “Jackson,” written at the top. “You writing me an apology letter?”

You scoffed, “I’m sorry?”

“Well that’s a start. Keep going.” He grins.

“I’m not, that’s no-“ you start, but his anger bubbles over and he’s already interrupting you, waving his hand in the air to silence you.

“You’re going to sit there and tell me that you’re not going to apologize to me? For causing a scene in front of my teammates? In front of Coach? The owner? The other girlfriends?”

“Is that what this is about? What other people think of me? You’re always bringing up what the other girlfriends think.” Tears begin welling in the corners of your eyes, once again.

It is true that you’re nothing like the other girlfriends and wives of the players. Most of them are that cookie cutter, instagram influencer type. Meanwhile, your instagram is full of cakes, and cookies, and other endless pastries. The ones you spend 70% of your life perfecting to sell in your bakery. So what you tend you keep to yourself? It’s better than hanging around the Brittany’s and the Madison’s (no hate, ya'lls names just got a bad rep) all the time and hearing gossip about people you don’t know, or care about. You keep it curtly polite in public and mind your business in private. What’s so wrong with that?

“Some of them think you’re rude.”

“Some of them need to get a sense of humor.” You mumble, fidgeting in your seat.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You have no idea how irritating you are. It’s like you constantly have to have the last word.” He all but yells, pointer finger in your face. “And don’t get me started on the constant need for reassurance. You have no idea how exhausting that is. You’re just so.. negat-“

“That’s enough. You’re actually insane.” You interrupted, standing to leave.

He was just trying to dig the knife in at this point. The thoughts of the argument in the stadium corridor long gone.

Jackson notices your carry-on settled by your feet. “What’re you doing with that?” he asks, standing from his seat.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you say, grabbing the handle “You said yourself you thought finding someone else was a good idea, so i’m doing the hard part for you. Now you can go get one of those other professional girlfriends that you seem to want so bad.”

With every word you said, he slowly got closer to you, each word irritating him further. Once he reaches you, his hands grip your shoulders, spinning you to face him.

“I don’t know where you seem to get off,” he starts, grasping your chin in a firm hold, “but this attitude of yours stops today. Do I make myself clear? I’ve given you everything. The least you could do is act a little grateful.” He states, dropping his hold on your chin. He maneuvers himself around you, grabbing the handle of your carry-on, but you don’t let go.

“I’m through being talked to this way.” You say, yanking your carry-on towards you. “You knew how I was from the beginning. If you didn’t like the way I was, you shouldn’t have pursued me.”

“You don’t have anywhere to go. You’re too.. rough to be loved by anyone else. I’m the best thing you’ve got.” He says pulling the suitcase back towards him. “I’ll just have to shape you into the person you should be.”

You’re just having a full on tug of war game at this point. “Do you even hear yourself? The person I should be? What is that supposed to mean?”

“More.. obedient. You constantly embarrass me with your attitude in front of people. Important people, might I add.”

“Jackson, you really are insane. You think that just because you’re some big shot quarterback that you have any right to treat me this way?”

“Treat you what way? The same way you treat me?” He sneers, moving closer to tower over you.

“If you think me teasing you about forgetting your fucking practice bag all the time is the same as using my genuine fears and anxieties against me then you really are insane. Keep the suitcase then.” You say, letting go as he’s pulling it again.

You’d find a way to replace everything you’d be leaving behind.

“If you walk out that door, you’re done; we’re done.” Jackson says as he’s hot on your trail.

“Is that a promise?” You ask before slamming the door behind you.

You were startled by the sound of shattering glass. Knowing Jackson, he’d just sent the vase of flowers that adorned the counter straight into the door as you slammed it shut.

Assuming this, only solidified your decision further.

You were done.

With relationships.

For good.

Right?

a/n 2.0: thank you for reading this far! I honestly can't believe all of these words came from the thing inside my skull! I swear that thing is broken more often than not.. but seriously! thank you for reading! please go give my dear @freedomfireflies some love from me as well <3

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#mdni & dividers both by @/cafekitsune #harry styles #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader

606 notes · View notes

explicit-tae · 28 days

Note

when is the next part of ungodly hour please tell me 😫

right here! introudcing a request that a few people has been wanting to see

Ungodly Hour (8)

Fuck Chaeyoung and Jimin for always being able to figure out when something is wrong with you.

word count: 2.684

“Girl,” Chaeyong’s voice says over the phone. It echos off of the bathroom walls. She’s watching you as you violently brush your teeth and in the process of scrubbing your tongue, a look of disgust on your face. Your phone is leaning against one of the toothbrush holders and she appears visibly amused. “maybe you’re pregnant.”

You choke, feeling yourself ready to vomit again - this time due to Chaeyoung’s words. Your eyes widen and you stare back at your phone for a moment. Spitting the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth, you turn off the water.

“Don’t,” you say with gritted teeth. “start that shit again.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. She’s in the process of making herself a sandwich. She shakes her head as she butters her bread. “You missed your period and you’re throwing up. What else can it be?” Chaeyoung was indeed correct. But, your periods were often irregular so that could never be a sign of pregnancy. You’ve gone two months without it before just for it to come on a random Wednesday work shift.

“I’m on birth control.”

“That’s never 100% effective.” Chaeyoung scoffs. “People get pregnant while on birth control all the time.”

Chaeyoung was right again and you could only sigh. You want to blame your sudden nausea on food poisoning. Maybe something you ate just didn’t sit right with you - that’s always a possibility. Maybe you were just getting sick as the seasons changed. Pregnancy would be the last of your options as anything could be possible.

“Let’s not forget that your boyfriend often has to remind you to take said birth control.”

“Shut up.” you grumble, snatching your phone and making your way out of the bathroom. You hated when Chaeyoung was right because it only meant that your mind would be wandering on the possibilities.

“I can’t be pregnant now. That means I’ll have a Scorpio.” you murmur, crashing down against Jungkook’s bed, silk sheets inviting you in. “There’s enough birthdays in November as it is. It’ll completely ruin the vibe.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you were being a whore on Valentine’s day.” Chaeyoung sing-songs, her sandwich now complete and she munches onto it happily. “Can’t blame you. Jungkook did go all out like always.”

You’re positive you know just where it all began and like Chaeyoung said, Jungkook had to be the dramatic type that made you want to fuck him. The amount of roses you walked into had to be costly and you’re sure he must’ve bought out half of the store alone. The gifts, the home cooked meals along with the low music, champagne…

“Fuck Jeon Jungkook.” you grumble, throwing your phone beside you so Chaeyoung can see your view - the ceiling and she’s positive you were wallowing in self pity.

Truly, Fuck Jeon Jungkook and the way you can never seem to stay off of him.

It took a week for you to decide to get a pregnancy test that you were sure would be negative regardless. You weren’t going to let Chaeyoung’s words of despair get to you - and you were only taking this test to prove to her (and yourself) that you weren’t pregnant and that whatever is going on with you was just a mere sickness.

The brown paper bag sits on the bathroom counter and has been for hours now. Jungkook wasn’t the one to check what wasn’t his and you’re unsure why you’re hesitant on taking it.

It’s Sunday now and that meant that not only was Jungkook here, but so was Namjoon, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jimin. They gather in the living room, movie blasting throughout the space and you walk by without any of them batting an eye.

All except Jimin as he was the only one who ever wanted to humor you and this fake beef you two held for one another.

“Well, well…you finally decided to join us.” Jimin calls, eyes watching as you make your way towards the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Jimin.”

Taehyung snorts, allowing a few chuckles to be released.

Jimin looks around, wondering why in the world you could possibly tell him to fuck off out of all people. Of course, he didn't because he was Jimin. This causes him to sit forward and tilt his head.

“You look different.” Jimin notes, eyes taking in your appearance. This causes Jungkook’s head to turn to see whatever it was that Jimin saw.

Jungkook’s eyes being on you causes goosebumps to litter your skin and you desperately want to tell Jimin to fuck off again, but that wouldn’t do any good.

“You look…healthy.” Jimin’s eyes begin to squint a bit, his head tilting to the other side.

“Healthy?” you snicker with a roll of your eyes. “What the fuck did I look before?”

“Ugh, Y/N, shut up.” Jimin stands, making his way around the couch and towards you. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on you and his friend, but he remains silent. “You look…dare I say glowy.”

You click your tongue inside your mouth. Jimin’s tone is different, almost as if confused. His eyes study you closely.

“If I didn’t know you, Jimin, I would say you’re flirting with me.” you turn away and go towards the box of pizza on the counters.

Jimin cackles. “As if I would go for anyone like you.”

“That’s a lot coming from a man like you.” you bite back. “I know exactly what girls you like.”

Jimin swallows back his words, a soft tint to his cheeks. No one was ever going to let him live down what that bitch said. “I pay for Onlyfan’s once and suddenly I’m the one being laughed at.” he grumbles to himself.

“I actually like her. She humbles you and it’s exactly what you need.” you open a box of pizza - pepperoni. You grab at it and inhale, the smell reaches your nose and instantly you drop it right back into the box.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrow at your actions, watching you closely. His arms begin to cross and it’s as if alarm bells were going off in his head.

“You little slut.” Jimin smirks.

Your stomach churns and you can feel the increase of saliva inside your mouth. You let out a shaky breath.

“You…that’s why you look so glowy. It’s too soon to look like this now…” Jimin speaks - mainly to himself. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

It happens entirely too fast and maybe this was just Jimin’s karma for annoying you constantly. You appear to be stuck, completely frozen in place, when you vomit entirely onto him. The man screeches and gags at the warm vomit hitting his chest.

Jungkook is on his feet immediately, coming to your side. He places a hand onto your back, a look of concern on his face. “Y/N? Baby, are you okay?”

“What the fuck?!” Jimin hisses, eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m the one with stomach acid on me! Can someone ask if I’m okay?”

“This isn’t about you right now.” Jungkook waves him off. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“She…oh wow.” Jimin watches in disbelief as Jungkook ushers you away. His shirt sticks to him sickeningly.

Hoseok is the first to laugh, shaking his head at Jimin.

“What just happened?” Namjoon questions.

Now you feel like crying out of embarrassment as Jungkook brings you into the bathroom. “Do you still need to throw up? Was it something you ate earlier?” he asks, his mind going on a thousand different possibilities on how you could be sick right now.

“N-No, I’m fine.” you murmur, pushing yourself away from him and going to brush your teeth again. Your body is hot - mainly due to humiliation of having vomited on Jimin. You wouldn’t be this embarrassed if it was just Jimin there, because well, fuck him. But the other’s…

You groan, scrubbing the taste of vomit out of your mouth.

Jungkook watches closely.

“You’re not fine. Are you sick?” he questions. “You probably need some medicine.”

Jungkook looks around the bathroom for a moment, his eyes dropping on the brown paper bag that’s folded in half. He looks at it for a moment. “Is this medicine you got earlier or-”

“No!”

It isn’t your intention to snatch the bag out of his hands the way you do. Jungkook is taken aback by your actions, eyes widening slightly. He takes a step back, apologetic about touching something that wasn’t his.

“I-I mean-”

“It’s okay.” Jungkook shakes his head. He swallows. “I’m…going to clean up out there. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook leaves the bathroom and now you feel worse than before. You shut off the water and groan.

You don’t want Jungkook to think that him trying to help was a bad decision. The paper bag is crumbling in your grasp and it’s a sign that you can no longer put off the contents on what’s inside of it.

You were a grown woman and a little pregnancy test shouldn’t scare you. You’ve dealt with tougher scenarios and this was outside of your character. Your mother didn’t raise you to be a scared bitch.

So you took the test - ripping the bag open entirely and then the rectangular box. It happens all under a minute and you realize this is the first time you ever took a pregnancy test.

You placed the top onto the test and put it on top of the brown paper bag as you await for what it says.

“Five minutes…” you murmur to yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t expect to see you so soon. He’s cleaning up a bit of vomit from the floor when you enter the kitchen. He had already managed to get everyone out of the home as Jimin ripped off the shirt and hurled it into the trash before exiting himself. He offers a smile your way. “Feeling better?”

“I’m such a bitch.” you sigh with a shake of your head.

Jungkook snickers. “What do you mean?” he asks. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself that way.”

“Shut up and stop being so nice.” you grumble. “I shouldn’t have acted that way in the bathroom. I’m just…” you inhale deeply. Your mother would have surely given you a mouth full if she saw the way you treated her precious Jungkook.

Jungkook continues to clean the rest of the mess before turning back to you. He notices you’re completely still, watching his every move.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You got a fever or something?”

Jungkook’s hands are soft but a bit cool to the touch. He touches your forehead and rubs it down towards your cheek.

“You don’t feel warm.” Jungkook comments. “I…” you trail off, unable to shake the look of Jungkook’s eyes off of you. “...my mother didn’t raise a scared bitch.” you repeat the same words aloud and it causes Jungkook to laugh.

“What do you mean-”

“I might be pregnant.” you interrupt him, needing to get the weight off of your shoulders. And you’re surprised that it did. You exhale with a raise of your brows. “That was easier than I thought it’d be.”

You look Jungkook in the eye, his doe ones staring intently back at you.

“I took a test.” you continue. “That’s what was inside the brown paper bag and why I snatched it the way I did.”

For once Jungkook is silent and it causes your stomach to churn again - this time with nerves. He’s so silent that you’re unable to read his expression.

Standing in front of him becomes a bit awkward and you’re anxious to get out of this situation entirely.

“I’m gonna go…” you go to move yourself and this is what causes Jungkook to snap himself back into reality.

“I was processing your words.” Jungkook shakes his head, dropping his hand from your cheek. “Sorry…” he murmurs, blinking a few times. “...How long have you…suspected it?”

You take a deep breath then scoff. “I’ve been in denial. With Chaeyoung and Jimin it’s hard to not face reality.”

Jungkook hums, he suppose that’s why you threw up on Jimin so suddenly.

“I can’t read you.” you murmur, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze. “You’re usually…more readable.”

“Would you be upset if you were pregnant right now?”

Now that you had admitted to him that there was a possibility of pregnancy, he wants to be open with you. He wants to hear your thoughts and feelings about the situation.

“It’s not ideal.” you shrug your shoulders, pondering on the question. “Would you?” “No.” Jungkook admits. “Of course not. I love you.”

You sigh. Fuck Jeon Jungkook and how understanding he was.

“But I also know this isn’t something you want…” Jungkook lets his hand touch your cheek once more and now you allow your eyes to meet his.

“Well, duh.” you scoff. “I still haven’t met your parents. They're going to think I’m a whore if I just show up pregnant.” you’re only half joking but just the thought of meeting his parents and having to deliver news of a pregnancy just sounded backwards.

“They wouldn’t!” Jungkook insists. “My mom’s been dying to meet you.” he admits. He had to convince his mother countless times to not just show up randomly at his home and take matters into her own hands. “I've just been waiting for you to be ready. There isn’t a rush.”

Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He smiles down at you.

“Stop smiling. You’re supposed to be…”

Jungkook furrows a brow. “Suppose to be what? Mad?” he snorts - it’s almost as if you didn’t know him entirely. He had already planned the wedding in his mind and exactly how many kids he wanted to have with you (if you allowed).

“Well I wasn’t expecting you to look so fucking excited, either.” you hiss, lightly pushing at his chest. “The test can be negative, you know. It could be fatigue or my blood sugar could be high or low…”

Jungkook nods his head at your words, listening to you. “Or, you can be pregnant,” he states. “Either or, I want what’s best for you. One step at a time.”

You nod your head at him and allow your cheek to nestle into his palm.

“We can check together.” Jungkook leans closer to you, his nose tickling yours. “And we’ll do what we need to do from there.”

Jungkook pecks your lips in a comforting kiss. It’s weird to see how domesticated the two of you are - how comfortable. You would’ve never seen yourself entertaining someone like Jungkook a year ago, but now you and he are together constantly. You feel at home when you’re around him; at ease when you’re in his warm embrace. Your heart is full whenever you’re around him and it yearns whenever you’re away for too long.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and the way he has made you soft for him; this wasn’t suppose to be. You were supposed to finish college as independently as possible and focus on a career until you decided you were ready to entertain anyone.

How the tables truly turned.

“I’m scared.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around you, chin resting on your shoulder. The test is a few feet away and none of you can see the answer on it just yet.

“This is the first time you’ve admitted you are scared.” Jungkook teases. “I thought your mother didn’t raise a scared bitch.”

“Fuck you.”

“I did and this is why we’re in this predicament.” Jungkook retorts coolly. “We’ll check together, okay?”

“Okay.” you nod your head.

Jungkook and you step further into the bathroom and you grab the test. You turn around to face him, looking into his anticipating eyes. “So…do we both look or do I look and tell you or-”

“You’re procrastinating again, baby.” Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. “We’ll look together.”

Jungkook’s eyes lowers to the test in your hands just as yours does. The test tightens in your grasp as you look down at the letters on the small screen.

See the Future (Final Part)

@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk @ultimatebasura

#ungodly hour #ungodly hour drabbles #jungkook x reader #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #btswritingcafe #jungkook imagine #explicit-tae #jungkook established relationship #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff

605 notes · View notes

tgcg · 2 months

Text

fond regards

… OKAY? AND WHO IS SAYING THAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

I -- ACTUALLY, WHO THE HELL JUST TOLD ME THIS INFORMATION? I'M COMPLETELY ALONE RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU SEEING THAT?

ARE YOU WATCHING ME RIGHT NOW? BASK IN THIS OVERWHELMING PRESENCE OF NEGATIVE SPACE. THE ABSOLUTE ABSENCE OF AIR SURROUNDING ME.

THERE IS FUCK ALL. NOT A THING.

NOT EVEN SOME KIND OF SEATING APPARATUS FOR ME TO STAGE THIS INTERVENTION FOR YOU ON. I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO "RAW DOG" IT OR WHATEVER THE FUCK DAVE WOULD DESCRIBE THIS AS.

I -- I MEAN… FIRST OF ALL. SHIT.

THANKS, I GUESS… FOR DOING THAT?

LOVING ME.

WHATEVER YOUR VERSION OF "LOVE" IS.

OKAY, ENOUGH BULLSHIT.

… LOOK. I DON'T KNOW WHO IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS RECEIVING THIS MESSAGE. NOR THROUGH WHAT KIND OF TENTH-DIMENSIONAL IMAGE PROCESSING PLATFORM OR WHATEVER-THE-SHIT DEVICE IT IS BEING DELIVERED.

AND FRANKLY I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF A FUCKING WEEK ALREADY TO BE DEALING WITH SOME POSSIBLY HIGHER LEVEL OF BEING THAT JUST "LOVES ME".

I WAS FLYING WAY PAST THE THRESHOLD FOR BEING ABLE TO GIVE A FUCK ABOUT EXISTENTIALISM BY TUESDAY AT THE LATEST.

SO SURE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.

BUT IF YOU'RE STILL LISTENING TO ME RIGHT NOW: I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THIS IS WHAT YOU'D CALL A "PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP", ASSUMING YOUR UNIVERSE HAS ANY CAPACITY FOR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS BEYOND BASELESS QUOTE-ENQUOTE "LOVE" OF THOROUGHLY UNLOVABLE INDIVIDUALS. HONESTLY, NOT A GOOD SIGN THAT YOU CHOSE ME OF ALL PEOPLE TO HEAR THIS, BY THE WAY! THIS IS NOT A GREAT LOOK FOR YOUR SUPPOSED NTH-DIMENSIONAL GODLINESS!

THE FIRST THING A TROLL WOULD FEEL TOWARDS YOU RIGHT NOW IS PITY. I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT.

AND THERE'S NOTHING PARASOCIAL ABOUT THAT WHATSOEVER, BECAUSE APPARENTLY WE'RE NOW MUTUALLY AWARE OF EACH OTHER.

I LEARNED ALL ABOUT PARASOCIAL BULLSHIT FROM ROSE WHEN I WAS TELLING HER ABOUT TROLL WILL SMITH, SO I'VE BEGRUDGINGLY BECOME KIND OF A MASTER ON THE TOPIC.

WAIT, FUCK. DOES THAT MEAN YOU AREN'T BEING PARASOCIAL TOWARDS ME ANYMORE? HOW MUCH DO I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU BEFORE IT STARTS JUST BEING A REGULAR RELATIONSHIP? WHAT ARE THE BOUNDARIES HERE.

DON'T GET THE WRONG IDEA BY THE WAY. I DON'T HAVE A PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP WITH TROLL WILL SMITH OR ANYTHING. THAT WAS JUST A CLASSIC LALONDE "MASSIVE ILLOGICAL REACH IN CONJECTURE THAT IS COMPLETELY OFF-BASE AND GENERALLY ONLY DONE TO MAKE FUN OF YOU IN A SNIDE AND INSUFFERABLE WAY, INEVITABLY LEADING INTO AN HOUR-LONG DIATRIBE ON PSYCHOSOCIAL DEVELOPMENT DESIGNED SPECIFICALLY TO FUCK WITH YOU".

SHE JUST DOESN'T GET IT. HE'S COOL AS FUCK AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT! THE AMOUNT OF BULLSHIT THE DERSE HUMANS CAN EXTRAPOLATE FROM THE SIMPLEST OF SPONGEDEAD NOTIONS IS MIND-BOGGLING TO ME. IT'S AS INCREDIBLE AS IT IS MONUMENTALLY FUCKING AGGRAVATING.

ANYWAYS, SINCE WE'RE APPARENTLY IN THE REALM OF SHARING COMPLETELY UNFOUNDED SENTIMENTS WITH PEOPLE WHO POSSIBLY DON'T EVEN EXIST, I HAVE SOME ADVICE FOR YOU: IMPROVE YOUR STANDARDS. MAYBE LOOKING INSIDE YOUR OWN DIMENSION WOULD BE A GOOD START. AND I'D SUGGEST SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T WASTE HIS TIME TALKING TO THIN FUCKING AIR IN VAST WHITE EXPANSES LIKE THIS ONE.

JUST A THOUGHT.

JEGUS, TALKING TO NOTHING IS HARD. I FEEL LIKE I'M JUST SPUTTERING COMPLETE INANE GARBAGE IN CIRCLES LIKE A DELIRIOUS WRIGGLER HERE. IS THIS HOW DAVE FEELS ALL THE TIME? THIS IS HORRIBLE.

WHERE'S THE EXIT?

#karkat vantas #homestuck #was overcome with urge 2 do this as soon as i got this ask #idk why #comix #fond regards

427 notes · View notes

miguelsslvt · 6 months

Note

Hello mother ❤❤😇 how your day going so far

i just wanted to ask you if you could make an bully!miguel x nerd!reader (virgin fem)

Where miguel very much loves to bully reader,maybe an little to much,loves to see her cry, loves to see an reaction from her,and especially when she vulnerable, but never show that side of him to reader,but he masterbate the thought of reader sucking his dick with tears running down her face,but It was until one day where reader was helping with one of the other nerd their, seeing her smiling to ear to ear made his blood boiling,vein popping,eyes cold as the negative zero,but he just walk off leaving,he already had an punishment in mind for reader, (whatever you want,you could put one) where miguel beat the crap out of the guy and making sure that the guy knew to never touch his nerd,and then the next day miguel locks her up with him in an empty classroom and nsfw part come here,😅🙂 just wants him to be an little possessive (that is definitely isn't an LITTLE but who care)

IDK ANYMORE just an request

😜

bully! miguel x nerd! virgin! reader smut

word count: 1.9k

TW: nsfw, smut, bullying, swear words, threats, miguel is lowkey a perv, loss of virginity.

A/N: FINALLY mother has posted!! quite a long one today, could u tell? welcome to the club!! ^^

you felt weak. helpless. Every time he would utter a word to you, it was never anything nice. Always spiteful. Big mean Miguel o’hara. The rudest but coolest boy in your whole year. You’d be like any girl, gawking and jumping circles around him, if it wasn’t for the way he treated you. You should be flattered, really. Considering all the attention and nicknames he gives you. Although, I wouldn’t say ‘freak’ or ‘know it all weirdo’ are considered ‘cute nicknames’.

He practically barred you from gaining any social status, let alone friends. and as much as Miguel does it to everyone, he liked to specifically target you. Why? god knows. All you know is that Miguel is an asshole. A big one.

——————————————————

It was AP English, and you were supposed to be studying for a Macbeth assignment coming up. Supposed to. That was until Peter Parker, who could possibly be the only other person in school that was as bullied as you, decided to sit beside you and ‘hang out’. Your teacher was on pretty good terms with you, so he didn’t mind having two nerds coddled up in the back of class talking about the latest ‘nyc best seller book’. However, when Miguel noticed you both talking in the back, he realised quickly that you two weren’t talking about book clubs.

‘He’s such a jerk, right?’ Peter said, as you were a giggly mess. You put your hand on peter’s as you crouched to laugh even more. Miguel’s eyes darkened. ‘He is! W-when he’s like, ‘oh yeah I’m the coolest kid in school’, when in truth no one actually likes him!’ You replied, as you and Peter clung onto each other, both laughing messes.

Miguel clenched his jaw, realising you must be talking about him. god, he never felt more rage then he did right now.

The truth was, Miguel did bully you. He knew that. he did it on purpose. Just watching you cry, watching you move away from him in the halls so he didn’t heckle you, that arose something in Miguel that made him smirk whenever you squirmed. However, you didn’t know that most nights when he got a reaction out of you, he would lock himself in his room and pull his cock so hard he’s as much of a mess as you were. Hell, he’s even caught himself whimpering your name a few times. But he wouldn’t ever admit it to you. I mean, its ridiculous! What popular asshole admits to the nerd of the school that he’s been touching himself just thinking about her?! His reputation would be ruined! but would he still do it? absolutely.

‘Honestly, I sometimes think flash is the meanest in our school.’ you say, as peter nods in agreement. ‘Yeah absolutely, either him or Miguel.’ He says, as you tilt your head. ‘Whys that?’ You ask, eyebrows furrowed. Peter raises an eyebrow. ‘I mean, cmon y/n, he’s horrible to you, he made you cry yesterday just because you took the last cake in the cafeteria!’ He said, chuckling. You look down. ’I dunno.. I mean he is a little mean to me but still, the difference between Miguel and flash is that Miguel is actually nice to his friends. flash is an asshole to everyone, including his own family.’ You admit.

Peter looks shocked. ‘I mean, you can’t be serio-‘ ‘been talking bad about me, Pete?’ A deep voice was heard. Your blood ran cold. You could see the fear on peter’s face. you both turned around, seeing Miguel towering above you both. You stood up immediately. ‘I- Miguel I don’t think peter meant it in a malicious way’ ‘I’ll deal with you in a second.’ Miguel snapped, as you looked down.

‘M-miguel I didn’t mean to-‘ Peter stammered, as Miguel scoffed. ‘You didn’t mean to? Oh yeah? So what, you weren’t just saying all that shit?’ He said, as Peter looked down. ‘I-i’m sorry.’ He stuttered, as Miguel clenched his fists. ‘You do anything like that again, I’ll get flash to fuck you up again. You hear me?’ He said threateningly, as he lifted his finger to tap on peter’s glasses. ‘Fixed your glasses huh? hm.. shame. Me and flash worked hard breaking them last semester.’ He mocked, as you looked away. The bell soon rang, and you and Peter quickly gathered your stuff to leave.

It was lunch, as you walked down the hall towards the cafeteria, you heard your ‘nickname’. ‘Hey, know it all!’ Miguel shouted out, as you turned around slowly. ‘Y-yes?’ You stuttered, as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into an empty classroom.

You squeaked, falling back into the wall, as Miguel locked the door beside you. ‘I-i didn’t m-mean to be mean last class Miguel i-i swear I-‘ ‘shut your mouth.’ He said, his voice deeper then usual. He turned around from you, as your face grew concerned. ‘A-are you okay?’ You asked. you hear him chuckle, turning towards you. ‘You’re supposed to be smart, but you can’t see what’s about to happen?’ He asked teasingly, moving closer to you. he stopped just as your noses touched, you could feel his hot breath on your lips.

‘..i-if this is some sick prank, it’s really mean.’ You whispered, refusing to look at Miguel in the eyes. He noticed that. ‘Look at me.’ He said, as you hesitantly look up at Miguel. ‘There she is.’ He teased, his finger lifting up your chin. ‘..y’know, I don’t actually think you’re ugly.’ He confessed, as your eyebrows rose.

You were confused. Very confused. ‘Wh-what are you..?’ You tried saying, as Miguel leaned closer to your lips. ‘Let me kiss you.’ He whispered, as your eyes widened. ‘..you-you hate me.’ You said, looking up at Miguel. He smirked. ‘Who says that?’ He teased. He leaned closer to your er. ‘I’ve been infatuated about you for a while now. I never knew why, but when I saw you with damn Parker.. it’s made me realise. Made me know for sure now that I want you.’ He confesses, as you gasped. ‘you.. what?’ you uttered out, as he leaned back towards your lips. ‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, as you took a moment to digest what he just said.

Did Miguel O’hara just confess he liked you thew whole time he was bullying you? This is all too confusing for you. You should say no, you should go, you should push him away.

‘..yes.’ you muttered, as you watched Miguel’s eyes lighten up with something. Lust? Love? You’re not too sure. What you were sure about, however, was his lips on yours. It was a funny feeling, considering it was your first kiss.

His lips were warmer compared to yours, but they were soft. Too soft. As you both indulged in the kiss, his hands moved down towards your waist. You weren’t sure where to put your hands, so you just settled with his shoulders and hoped it was the right move.

He let go eventually, panting for air, as were you. He smirked. ‘You haven’t kissed anyone before, have you?’ He mocked. ‘Let me guess, you a virgin too?’ He spoke as you blushed, looking away. He moved his right hand to move your chin towards him. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Let me take care of that for you.’ He said, his voice sultry.

before you could respond, Miguel grabbed your hips and led you to an empty desk, lifting you up onto it.

You squeaked again, as he just chuckled in response. ‘Who knew little crybaby nerd was such a compliant little girl?’ He teased, as you looked up at him, your face filled with embarrassment. His lips met yours once again, as he kissed you sensually. He lifted your uniform skirt up, his hands travelling up and down your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss slightly to gasp, as he sighed. ‘..you ok with this?’ He asked, as you looked down. Soon enough you looked up at Miguel, nodding. You put your hands on his necks, as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You both were indulged in the moment, and before you knew it, your panties were off and Miguel was unbuckling his belt. You looked down patiently, and honestly a little nervously, to see if the rumour of ‘big dick Miguel’ was true.

‘..it is true.’ You mumbled, eyes wide as his hardened 8 and a half inches stood with pride. He raised an eyebrow. ‘What was true?’ He asked, confused. ’n-nothing. I.. is it.. is it erm, y’know- gonna hurt?’ You asked, your voice shaky. He looked down at you, sighing. ‘It might. But it’ll feel good soon enough, trust me. Okay?’ He said, kissing you softly for what seemed like the first time ever.

He slowly pushed inside, as your eyes widened. Before he could get to more then the tip, you winced. ’S-stop!’ You said, as he stopped moving. ‘..l-let me just.. g-get used to it..’ You said head on Miguel’s shoulder. He tutted, stroking you hair. ‘Haven’t you even put a finger in there before? Damn it, darling, you’re tight..’ He said, kissing your head. eventually, you caught your breath. ‘..g-go deeper.’ You said, as he nodded patiently, pushing all of himself inside. You cried out, tears falling down your face, and something switched in Miguel again.

He couldn’t help himself. That sweet defenceless face of yours, hot with tears, was enough to make him start bucking his hips into yours. He pulled in and out, his hands stuck tightly on your hips, as you clawed on his shoulders, gasping and whining from the painful.. pleasure? Maybe Miguel it was right, maybe it does start to feel good after a while.

As you both got into a rhythm, the pain was overseen by the pleasure soon enough. You were moaning in Miguels ear, gasping. God this was like a dream for him. You were a squirming, whimpering mess, putty in his hands. And he loved every bit of it. ‘god.. you’re so fuckable.. w-who knew the nerd would be such a fucking cute little slut?’ He teased you, as you just moaned in response. ‘Told you it’d feel good, didn’t I? C’mon sweetheart, use your words.’ He cooed, your face scrunching up in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He moved his hand from your waist to your cheek, as he wiped some of your hair away. ‘Hm? Thought you were smart, sweetheart. Wheres all those big words now huh?’ Miguel whispered, as you felt your stomach getting hot. ‘I- m-miguel i-it feels weird..!’ You managed to moan out, as he moved his forehead to rest on your own. ‘You’re gonna cum sweetheart, thats why.. don’t worry, I am too. we can do it together, yeah?’ He panted, as you nodded.

Soon enough, you reached your high, as Miguel played with your clit, making your first orgasm fucking amazing. Your eyes rolled back, as you moaned loudly. As you started to come down, Miguel pulled out, and came on your thighs with a loud grunt. You both stayed for a moment like this, your foreheads leaning on one another, sweaty and panting. once Miguel caught his breath, he cleared his throat and fixed his pants, walking over to the empty teachers desk to find some tissues, walking back over to you as he silently cleaned your messy thighs. Once he was finished, he looked down at you, leaning closer. ‘..you okay?’ He asked quietly.

‘m..mhm.’ you choked out, looking down. ‘I-..I won’t tell anyone.’ You reassured, as he nodded, moving your skirt down. ‘..you should go to the bathroom before running to the cafeteria. Your hair is uh.. y’know.’ He said, as you blushed and nodded.

Miguel left before you, as you stood up and sighed, fixing your hair and uniform. You then looked around the classroom.

You’ll never be able to look at history classroom the same ever again.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #fem reader #smut #kinktober #bully miguel o’hara #nerd reader

867 notes · View notes

eimids · 6 months

Text

Don’t care about them

Alexia Putellas x reader

i’m gonna keep writing to annoy that rude anon😉

this is inspired by this whole situation going on in my blog!! enjoy nonnie i know you are reading this😚😚

warnings: bad body image, rude comments, angst

You and Alexia had dated for a year before your relationship became public. It wasn’t ideal but you were happy that now you were able to show to the world your girlfriend.

The press was having a field day after your relationship came out with the one and only, Alexia Putellas. They were writing about your life and every single thing you ever did.

That wasn’t the worst part. It was the fact that they were talking about your body and looks. Giving their opinions on your posts on instagram. Judging and criticizing if you are worthy enough for Alexia, the star player of Spain and Barca.

The articles weren’t all that bad but the comments were.

Under a photo with you wearing heavier makeup than usual.

“She wears way too much makeup, i bet she’s actually ugly and just maskes it behind that makeup”

If you weren’t wearing makeup.

“She’s so ugly, look at those eyebags. she doesn’t deserve Alexia”

Then there was a photo of you in a bikini.

“🤢 look at those things and that stomach. she should be a lot skinnier. alexia deserves much better than that”

“She’s trying so hard to suck her stomach in it’s pathetic”

“I wouldn’t be posting bikini pictures with that body”

You quickly decided to turn off the comments on specific posts. Not wanting to hear the mean words they said about you.

You went through the rabbit hole of scrolling and reading through every single comment before deleting the comments. It wasn’t good for you but you couldn’t help it. Just needing to read what they said about you. Some comments were actually nice. Telling you how cute you and Alexia were together. Probably most of them were nice but they went to blind eyes. You were only able to see the negative ones.

It quickly became too much for you. You actually started to believe the comments about Alexia deserving better. You started to isolate from her and from everyone. It was easy since Alexia was in the Spain women’s camp during international break.

It started as you just not replying to her texts so often and missing some of her calls but it quickly escalated to you completely ignoring her. You thought she wouldn’t care about your absence in her life but she did.

In fact she was stressing the whole camp about it. She didn’t perform as well and you were in her mind constantly. She thought she did something wrong. Luckily for her there was only one more day of camp and then she would see you again and solve this situation. She knew that whatever it was, you could work through it. You always did.

When Alexia came back home finally she found you in your shared bed. She noticed the dry tears on your cheeks and your phone in your hand. She decided to unlock it to see what it was.

She was horrified when she saw all the comments about you. How could anyone say those things about her precious girl. The girl who wouldn’t hurt or say anything bad about anyone. She hated that this was somewhat her fault. Her being a public figure, it was hard to avoid those comments.

She closed your phone and took her own in her hands to post quickly on her instagram. After that she cuddled close to you. Not wanting to wake you up but also wanting you as close as possible. She stayed like that for a while before falling asleep herself.

The next morning you woke up to the soft hands caressing your body. So gently touching every part of your body while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Should we break up?”

That wasn’t at all what Alexia expected from your mouth and she tensed up immediately.

“What, why” She asked breathlessly.

“I don’t deserve you. They all say it. You deserve much better than me” You said while looking into her beautiful eyes. Tears creeping in your own.

“Absolutely not. You are more than enough and i love you more than anything my beautiful girl” She answered then quickly followed “You don’t actually wanna break up, right?” She asked nervously.

“No” You said and shook your head. You started crying to her about all the mean stuff in your comments. She listed carefully and assured that none of them were true.

The rest of the day she showed just how much she loved you and you stayed in bed for the whole day. Just before you went to sleep you checked your instagram. To your surprise there was a post from Alexia made the day before.

Liked by yourinstagram, Lucy Bronze and 1, 456, 789 others.

alexiaputellas: my beautiful, amazing, kind and loving girlfriend 🩷 te quiero mi niña

the comments you been writing about this beautiful soul are horrible and i disagree with them all. i couldn’t ask for anything better and if we are being honest, i don’t know how i deserve her but i’m so lucky to have her in my life<3

so for anyone who has been sending those comments, just stop. if you’re own life is that boring then maybe get some help 🙂

me and my girl will enjoy our life together 🤝

no me importa lo que piensen los demás✨

—

hehee

#woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #wlw post #lucy bronze #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas marry me #fluff #barca femeni

575 notes · View notes

pedropascallme · 1 year

Text

Crush

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: “The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim button down rolled up to the elbows, face…mean. Joel Miller in the flesh.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), age gap (reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is canon typical age), p in v sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), kinda mean!Joel, degradation, praise kink, orgasm denial/edging, I will sprinkle in queer Tess. If I missed anything please let me know!

Soundtrack: Crush by Ethel Cain

Joel had a problem with saying no.

He knew it made him seem soft, but he just couldn’t get it out. There was something about becoming a father that increased the negative connotation of the word; using it as a response meant hampering the needs of someone who trusted you. Or the wants. And it was always the wants he fell victim to. Sarah knew his weaknesses—she was his biggest one. A goldfish, extra dessert, a slumber party— “Sure, darlin’.”

Sarah was all he cared about, and he’d give her everything she ever wanted, even when it meant looking like a pushover.

But his window had passed; all will to live drained and replaced by pure survivalism. He pretended to get over it out of instinct, willing himself to push everything down in order to keep going.

He didn’t mind saying no anymore. He had nobody to say it to, anyway.

Maybe that made him a bad man.

~~~

You had befriended Tess by chance. She frequented the same spots you did—speakeasies and back allies, surrounded by men she wanted nothing to do with.

At least you had that much in common with her.

Tess was older than you by maybe twenty years, and you knew nearly nothing about her. You knew her name, you knew what she did to get the extra rations she kept in her front pocket, and you knew she lived with Joel Miller. You had never pried about their relationship, and all you knew of Joel was that he was as gorgeous as his reputation was mean.

She had the tendency to be hot headed, there was no doubt that she could be rough, although you felt her fire was what drew you to her in the first place. Another person who had lost everything obviously wasn’t inaccessible, but it helped that she was one of the few women that you had seen around. When she had thrown a punch so hard it nearly shattered her hand, you grabbed her and walked her home while she stumbled along with you.

No matter how watered down the whiskey in the QZ was, enough of it would do the trick.

“You ok?” You grabbed her by the waist, catching her before she fell, distracted by the blood on her knuckles. You didn’t know if it was hers or the man whose bottom tooth she had loosened.

“Guys here are as bad as fucking raiders…” She mumbled, looking down at her feet. “Could’a walked home myself.” You knew she could’ve, but the thought of letting her stagger home by herself so close to curfew made you uneasy.

Some things never change.

“Didn’t want you to,” You kept walking, one stride ahead of her at all times. “Could’ve been dangerous.”

“They know not to fuck with me,” she was giggling now, and she looked almost girlish with her features softened. “Living with Miller has its perks.”

“Wouldn’t want your boyfriend having to exact revenge just cause I let you walk home drunk.”

“What?” Tess stopped walking.

“Aren’t—sorry, are you and Joel not—?”

Tess snorted, “Joel and I are not an item. I don’t, y’know. He’s not my type.” She had sobered almost instantly. “I like my partners…feminine.”

Oh. Oops.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We get it a lot. Easy living with each other cause we’re the only two that know how to empathize with the other.” She started walking again, leaving you with space to catch up. You didn’t inquire further about what she meant, it wasn’t something anybody wanted to discuss, ever. Loss and death were everywhere, there was no need to reflect on past experiences. Especially with someone like Tess who, in all honesty, intimidated you mightily. You just jogged to meet her pace.

You followed her into the building, not that you could really explain why.

She had pushed the door open and motioned to you, silently telling you to come into what once could’ve been passed off as a $3,000/month studio apartment. She dropped her belongings on the kitchen table, getting two glasses and pouring watered-down sambuca into each one. You hated the taste, but appreciated that she seemed to genuinely want to spend time with you.

“You remember anything?” She prompted after finishing her drink.

“What?” You had barely touched yours. The anise flavored booze had a different burn than whiskey.

“Before.”

“I was little. I remember seeing Attack of the Clones. And that Scooby Doo movie.”

“I was in my thirties when those came out,” she laughed, “I fucking loved Scooby Doo.” You found yourself laughing along with her. She deadpanned after a moment, examining you.

“You’re still young. Not fair to you to have seen all that as a kid.”

“I guess. But I didn’t think episode two was all that bad.” You tried to laugh through the sudden solemnity. Tess rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head as she reached for the bottle to refill her glass.“But it’s not fair that anybody had to see any of that. Ever.” You could hardly call yourself eloquent, but she knew what you meant.

“What are you doing here?” She took smaller sips of her drink this time.

“Same thing as you.”

“Why?”

You didn’t know. “Gotta do something.”

She nodded, “I want you with me.”

“Tess, I’m flattered—I am, but I don’t, I mean—”

“I want you to work with me.” She smiled into her glass, amused by your flustered response.

Oh. Oops.

“Oh. I...mean, ok. Yeah, ok.”

The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up to his elbows, face…mean.

Joel Miller in the flesh.

“Joel.” Tess was stern.

“What’s this?” Joel’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You realized you had never spoken to him, never been spoken to by him. You’d only ever gawked from across the room. You felt yourself straighten your posture.

“Business. New teammate.” Tess took another sip from her glass.

Joel walked across the room, grabbing the liquor bottle and taking a swig from it before placing it back into a cabinet. He looked at you, giving you the up-and-down from where he stood at the counter.

“No.” He turned, walking into the bedroom.

Wide-eyed with concern and embarrassment, you looked at Tess.

“Be here at nine tomorrow. PM.” She said, finishing her drink and getting up to take her place on the couch.

You let yourself out.

~~~

It was obvious when you arrived the following night that Joel was still irked by your presence. Also obvious was that Tess had made him swallow his pride. She gave you your instructions at the kitchen table while you nodded along. Joel was statuesque and showed no signs of emotion or consideration towards her words.

And when Tess had explained that it would be you and Joel and only you and Joel, your brows furrowed and he still hadn’t budged.

“I’ve gotta be here,” she dictated, words coming out slowly as though she was speaking to children, “Don’t need all of us gone, it’d be too much attention. I’ll cover.”

“I can cover.” You blurted out, suddenly nervous about being alone with Joel.

“No.” Joel spoke for the first time all night. You shrunk back into yourself and kept listening.

“—Into the sewer, out to the east, all we need is booze, maybe some pharmaceutical shit if you can grab any.”

You probed, “Pharmaceuticals?”

“For us.” Tess had finished giving you the rundown, getting up from the table and walking into the bedroom, leaving you alone with Joel.

Saying nothing, he immediately started towards the door, leaving you to follow.

~~~

Contrary to popular belief, the sewers were not your ideal hang out. No matter how many times you went down there, it took days to scrub the feel and smell off of your body. If Joel cared about the dank surrounding, he didn’t show it.

When you popped the grate to crawl out, he moved to lift you slightly, but that was the only interaction you’d had on your journey. You wanted to get this over with, desperately wanted to be back in the company of anybody you could converse with. You made quick work of collecting what you needed and making your way back into tunnels below. Joel hadn’t said a word since he had objected to you taking watch, and you didn’t know why that bothered you so much; plenty of people didn’t speak to you, and you relished in it. You could walk around the QZ and not a soul would approach you—it was safer that way. Easier, too. But Joel’s silence made your head spin almost as much as his voice did. You kept looking at the way his biceps flexed under his shirt, the stern look on his face and the scar on his right temple.

Despite his cold exterior, you felt at ease in his presence. Sure, his domineering attitude was somewhat troubling to you, but his lack of emotions made you feel less paranoid. You weren’t as preoccupied with looking over your shoulder as you would’ve been otherwise thanks to his presence, and the gun slung over his shoulder acted as additional reassurance. If anything were to happen, you doubted he’d have any trouble dealing with it.

Maybe the smell of the sewer was making you delirious. Or maybe you were experiencing a genuine attraction to him—not that you expected a man that wouldn’t speak to you to feel any sort carnal desire for you. Even so, you found your mind wandering on the route back to the QZ; you could imagine him smoking the cigarettes your grandfather used to buy, Marlboro reds that he kept in a silver case. The thought of a cigarette hanging between Joel’s lips made you shiver, though you tried to tell yourself you were just cold from the clammy tunnels. You tried to hide the curious looks you shot at him, the way you studied his hands and thought up reasons as to why they would be so calloused. It could’ve been from the work he did now, but the thought of him pre-outbreak, working with his hands in the heat, wiping the sweat that dripped down his forehead...

You heard a clang somewhere along the route. Looking up, you could make out a shadow growing larger, then smaller. An unmistakable clicking followed.

Perhaps it was due to the unexpected encounter, or the daydreams still playing in the back of your head, but you found yourself frozen. If you could think straight, it would be embarrassing, but every noise was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat in your skull.

And then you were on the floor. Joel’s full weight pinning you down before he rose up again and two shots rang out. You tried your best to regain your composure, blinking rapidly and staring into nothing. Joel looked down at you, face painted with his routine grimace only inches away from your own.

“This,” he breathed heavily, voice frayed, “is why I said no.”

But he waited for you to get up and brush yourself off before he kept walking.

“You’re a fuckin’ amateur.” He continued homewards.

~~~

You went with Tess after that. Nobody gave you an explanation—you didn’t need one. You had fucked up, made more apparent by the dismay painted on Joel’s face at your continued appearances in the apartment. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone speak to him, maybe attempt to apologize. He didn’t want to hear it; you knew as much as he did. You couldn’t even crawl back like a guilty dog with your tail between your legs, because you knew you’d just get swatted by the morning paper. And, worse, despite the obvious friction, Joel was constantly on your mind. It was humiliating that a man who never spoke to you could be the focal point of your private moments. You thought of his hands entirely too often, his name slipping out between hushed gasps in the darkness of your bedroom.

Your breaking point was the night you walked into the apartment, opening the door to barking laughter that ceased on his end the moment you crossed the threshold. It was purposeful, the way he drew his mouth into a frown as soon as your line of sight had connected. Scowling, his eyes followed you. You felt heat rise in your face and pool in your stomach.

You scowled back. You wouldn’t endure his attitude anymore.

It went on like that for weeks. You figured that if you got under his skin he’d crack, forcing him to interact with you on a higher level—even if it was shouting at you.

Joel Miller was a bad man, a mean man. You knew as well as anybody, and it pissed you off as much as it turned you on.

~~~

You had let yourself into the apartment, flipping through an old magazine to pass the time you spent waiting for Tess.

When the door opened, your gaze met Joel’s. You turned back to skimming a story about Ewan McGregor, brows furrowed as you internally questioned what had happened to him in all this.

You started the countdown for the game you were playing: Who would break first? You glanced up once or twice to see where Joel was, and he remained in the same spot in front of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on you. You crossed your legs.

“Tess isn’t here.” He spoke, and you stopped your countdown, congratulating yourself as tonight’s winner.

“I know.”

“She’s not coming.”

“I’m reading.” You turned the page, eager to read about who was dating who in August of 2000.

Joel stayed in his spot by the door before making his way to the liquor cabinet—which you had discovered were most of the cabinets in this house. He put a glass in front of you and sat across, a glass of his own in his hand as he leaned forward to put his weight on the table.

“Jared Leto and Cameron Diaz.” You mused. Joel tipped back his glass, glaring at you. “Do you ever wonder if any of these people are still out there somewhere?”

“No.”

“Imagine killing some infected schmuck and realizing it was Ryan Gosling.” You smiled, enjoying your one-sided conversation. “I’d feel kinda bad…”

“’Least you’d be puttin’ him out of his misery.”

You looked up, surveying Joel, trying to find a trace of anything that could’ve prompted his sudden embrace of your goading. “Uhuh,” you raised an eyebrow, “just don’t think I could do it.”

“You scared?”

“Of you?”

“Of surviving.”

“No. Just of an infected Ryan Gosling.” You put down the magazine. “What’s your problem, Miller?”

“What’s yours?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Then neither do I.” He got up to refill his glass, and you had déjà vu, recalling how Tess had sat you down at the table months earlier to invite you into their professional lives. She had been much friendlier even then than Joel ever was.

“You can’t fight for shit.” You turned to see Joel leaning against the counter, a bottle of whiskey in hand. You tried not to let your frustration at him show. “Hard to get good at this shit when you freeze at the first sign of trouble.”

“Shut up.” You brushed him off. You picked up the magazine again, trying to find your place.

“You know I’m right.” He drank from the bottle. For some reason you couldn’t stop yourself from standing up and facing him.

“What?”

“Y’know you can’t fight for shit. Couldn’t to save your own life. You know that. I know that. Why’d’ya think Tess always goes with you?” He put the bottle down and crossed his arms. Wrath boiled in your chest; you wanted to rationalize, tell yourself that he was mad you were winning the game he made you start playing so he opted to hit below the belt; but, Jesus, he had gotten you where it hurt. You had long prided yourself in having the ability to survive, taking care of yourself and doing whatever it took for you to see the next day. For him to waltz into the space you had found some form of comfort in, where Tess drank with and felt for you, to imply that you were a failure—just some fucking kid with a knife?

You put as much weight behind the punch you threw towards him as you could muster, aiming at for his face in the hopes that a black eye might help him register your dedication to staying alive. He barely moved, grabbing your wrist to stop any real strength your blow might’ve had.

“You can do better.” Joel provoked you further. You were breathing hard but not heavy, staring into the eyes of the man you wished you could see for the evil everybody said he was. “Do better.” He continued. You grabbed him by the collar, nose to nose; you could smell the liquor on his breath, and you were sure he could smell it on yours. You were far from drunk, and the seething anger sobered you more than a cold shower ever could.

So you had no excuse for kissing him, which is probably why it was a quick peck, testing the waters and feeling as though you owed it to yourself as much as to him to see if this was one-sided.

“That’s better.” He snaked an arm around your waist and cupped the opposite hand over the back of your head. You didn’t say a word, barely breathed at his response, before you attached yourself to him again. You forgot all about testing the waters and immediately dove in; you kissed him with an open mouth, tongue, teeth and all. He licked into you, pulling you in closer. He separated from you to speak.

“Bed.” Forever and always a man of few words. You stumbled over each other as he pulled you towards the bedroom, neither of you bothering to say anything else as you were pushed onto the bed. Joel straddled your chest, looking down at you and undoing his belt, brown eyes blown out with complete exasperation and lust.

“Y’been botherin’ me since day one,” he pulled his cock from the confines of his jeans, “bad fuckin’ attitude.” He stroked himself, still looking at you.

“Doesn’t seem to be bothering you now.” You taunted him, reaching up to wrap both hands around him and sitting up as best you could to lick across the tip of his cock. He pushed his hips forward and you took the initiative to swallow as much of him as you could; no small feat, considering his size. You managed half before you gagged. He just laughed.

“Gonna be quiet ‘round me, might as well put yourself to good use while you’re doin’ it.” He threw his head back as you licked circles over the head of his cock, hand working every inch you couldn’t push past your gag reflex. You made a noise in response to his words, though it was unclear if you meant it as an agreement or a rebuttal. You pulled yourself off of him, placing a kiss on the vein that ran up the underside of his cock. You looked up at Joel, content with your work, his breathing heavy. His hand came up to your jaw, prying your mouth open and sliding his thumb inside. You closed your lips around it and sucked, you heard him groan. He took his thumb out after a few more seconds.

“Open.” He placed his wet thumb on your chin. You opened wide, sticking out your tongue slightly, expecting him to give you his cock again. Instead, he spit directly into your mouth, before pressing on your lower jaw to force it closed. “Swallow.” You did as you were told. He shuffled himself further down your body, leaning down to kiss you, pushing his tongue between your lips before he continued moving downwards; he pulled the buttons of your flannel apart, kissing and sucking on the skin he revealed before licking over the burgeoning bruises. You thanked whatever God was out there that you had given up bras so long ago, as if it was all in anticipation of this moment. Joel’s mouth reached the waistband of your jeans, and he continued placing open mouthed kisses over your stomach as he undid your button and fly, pulling the fabric down your legs and revealing your panties. He bent forward into you, pressing his face into your clothed core, his nose and open mouth fanning hot breath across you.

“Need a good lay.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about you or himself, though he answered your silent question soon after; “That’ll keep you from bitchin’ over everythin’.” He licked a straight line over your folds, tasting the tangy wet that seeped through the fabric of your underwear. You let out a shrill whine when his tongue danced over your clit, and reached down to shed yourself of the final layer of clothing that covered your bottom half. He caught your wrist and pushed it aside. “No,” He looked up at you as he licked over you again, “been playin’ your fuckin’ game for weeks. S’my turn. Don’t get greedy, now.”

You moaned when he released your wrist from his grasp, only to begin rubbing circles over you. “Pl—ease, Joel!” You arched your back, lifting yourself up to him in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” it was barely audible, “please, Joel. Please, please…” Your eyes were hooded as you begged for more. Either he was satisfied by your attempt or took pity on you for coming undone over practically nothing, but he slid the panties down your thighs and threw them over his shoulder. He admired your naked cunt, ghosting a finger over your slit and collecting what you’d already released. He leaned back down and attached his lips to your clit, pushing his finger into you and bending it upwards. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging, earning a satisfied grunt from him. He rhythmically sucked your clit in time with the movements of his finger, adding another slowly and then increasing the pace. Over and over, he brushed the spongey spot inside of you that made you clench around him, tugging his hair tighter.

“Go—ing to, Joel, fuck! Joel—!” You were panting, fist gripping his hair.

“No.”

“Please!” You were trembling.

“No.” He was unforgiving, absolutely ruthless as he fucked his fingers into you faster, licking tight and fast over your clit. You were close to tears now, grabbing onto the pillow underneath you to stabilize yourself. You were sweating, and he was the one doing all the work, but, Christ, it took effort to hold off on cumming when he was knuckle deep in your pussy like that.

“Now.” He said, pushing up against the spot you needed him to touch most, sucking hard on your swollen clit. You all but yelled, body turning to jelly, your eyes screwed tight—all while Joel continued his ministrations. He stared at you open mouthed as you trembled. He slowed once you stopped shaking, sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

“Still gonna act like a bitch now?” He peppered kisses over your thighs.

“F…fuck y—ou, Joel Miller.” You wheezed out. He laughed, standing up to remove his shirt and trousers.

“’F’I’d known you wanted it I’d’ve done it a month ago.” He crawled over you, pressing kisses into your neck.

“Fuck you.” You finally caught your breath, and he pushed himself up enough to meet you face to face. “You’re a bad person. Everybody in the QZ knows you’re a bad man.”

“Then why are you in my bed?” He was half sincere.

“You tell me.”

“Can see the way you look at me. Terrible at keepin’ secrets. ‘Nother reason you need someone to protect you out there.” He scoffed, and you pulled him down for a kiss. Though bruising in force, you were gentler with each other. Neither of you felt inclined to use teeth this time around.

Joel pushed himself up and onto his knees, sliding his cock over your clit and pushing his tip into you slightly. You whimpered, trying to wordlessly urge him to sink into you.

“Ask me.”

“Please.”

“More.”

“Please, Joel, need it…”

“Need what, sweet thing?” You closed your eyes, savoring the nickname as it rolled off his tongue.

“Need your cock. Joel, please, I need you to fu—” He cut you off with one sharp thrust, pushing his full length into you and bottoming out. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, and Joel brought a hand down to rest on the side of your face.

“Atta girl,” his mouth hung open as he began shallowly thrusting into you, “take it all, darlin’.”

You whined, hands scrambling to touch him wherever you could reach; his shoulders, his chest, his thigh if you stretched down a bit further. It only spurred him on.

“Fuckin’ pathetic.” He pushed his hips into yours, attempting to get even deeper inside of your warm, inviting pussy. “Been such a bitch with me ‘nd now you’re so eager, huh? Li’l slut, needed t’get fucked s’all?” All you could do was let out a wonton moan, loving how he stretched you. “Gonna be nice from now on?” You couldn’t respond, could only think the word no as he sped up, sliding all the way out and all the way back into your cunt. “Answer me, girl.”

“F—uck, n—no!” You stammered.

He brought a hand down harsh on your clit, pulling out so just the tip of his cock was seated shallowly inside of you. You squeezed around it. “Don’t be a bitch,” he spanked your pussy again, “tell me the truth.”

Tears pricked your eyes in frustration, and you nodded your head yes.

“Words.”

“Yes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, wo—won’t give you attitude, Joel, I—I won’t be such a bitch, I pr—omise.”

“I like you a li’l bitchy,” he slid his cock back into you, resuming the punishing pace, punching up into you. “Like my pretty li’l bitch. Like this tight fuckin’ pussy.” He flattened himself on top of you, chest pressing into yours with every breath he took and every rough shove of his cock against your cervix. The slight pain was worth the abounding pleasure. He reached under your midriff, sliding his hands between the flannel you still half-wore to meet your skin, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you into him further. You wrapped your own arms around his waist, completely lost in him.

“Y’needed this as much as I did,” he groaned into your ear, “tell me, sweet thing.”

“Needed—oh, fuck, I needed it.” You whispered against the skin of his shoulder. He managed to reach a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit. You buried your face into him, suddenly very aware of what was happening; your daydreams coming to fruition, winning the game in a manner leagues above what you had hoped for. The attention was staggering. The tears you had held back during his earlier taunting escaped, spilling over your cheeks and smudging into the sweat on Joel’s skin. It was overwhelming in the best way. Anxiety inducing in the worst.

“So good, being so—so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He was getting sloppy with his thrusts, rhythm failing as he neared his own high. He pulled away from you, shifting positions to hold you so that you could be face to face. You couldn’t count how many times today you had found yourself staring at Joel Miller. “You’re so good.” A fully earnest sentiment, punctuated by every inch of his cock. “Want you to cum, need you to cum for me again.” He was practically begging, words coming out in moaned whispers. He kissed the tear streaks over your cheek and down to your lips, the wiry hair of his short mustache rubbing against your top lip in a manner that made your skin instantly sore, but it felt too good to be connected to him like this to complain at all. He continued his movements, fingers running over your clit at a heightened pace and cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed around his cock, arms squeezing his torso, and you felt yourself coming undone.

“There you go. Feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Gimme one more, sweetheart.” You were pushed over the edge, once again cumming for Joel Miller in a way you had only ever imagined. He held you tight, letting you wrap yourself around him while you came, whispering his name and tangling your fingers in his hair. He managed a few more deep thrusts before pulling out and spilling across your stomach, chanting your name. Your breathing was labored, and Joel admired how he had painted you with his spend.

He stood up, walking out of the room, and you felt the urge to cry again, feeling suddenly abandoned after something so new and intimate. But he walked back in with a threadbare towel, wiping down your stomach and the wet between your thighs. You were both silent as he finished cleaning you up. He exited once more to rid himself of the towel before reuniting with you in bed. He lay beside you for a moment before turning to hold you. You turned to face him.

“It’s a shame you wiped me clean. Wanted a taste.” You failed to keep your tone even and unbothered, the crack in your voice apparent as you tried your hand at humor.

“Next time.” You looked up to find him staring at you once again. His usual scowl replaced by something softer. You fell back into a semi-comfortable silence.

“I am a bad man.” He spread his fingers out between your shoulder blades.

“Joel—”

“I am,” the words came out harsher than he had meant them to, “I’ve done bad shit just to get by. It’s fuckin’ embarrassin’ to kill someone just to see another day of this. Bad’s an understatement.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m hard on you cause I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. Don’t wanna be out with you if somethin’ happens. Don’t wanna be away from you if somethin’ happens. Wouldn’t be able to—”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know. S’fuckin’ awful. Shouldn’t have’ta fend for yourself.” He swallowed.

“Have to to survive, Joel. Made it this far.”

“No,” he countered, “shouldn’t have to survive. You should be livin’. Shouldn’t need’a run with a crowd like me ‘nd Tess.”

“Don’t you think we’re a little past that? I’d be doin’ the same thing even if I didn’t have you two to do it with.”

“I’ve seen how you freeze up.”

“I knew you’d be there.” You nearly snapped, astonished that after all this he was still hung up over the first run you did with him, despite the effortless shots he had taken. Even more astonished that he hadn’t realized that despite the external bitterness he had fashioned and the constant stream of “no” that left his mouth, you knew even then that he’d keep you protected. He looked away from you, and you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, trying to show him that for all your bite you were capable of being docile when the moment called for it.

“Shouldn’t wanna hang around bad people.” Joel’s eyes looked into the nothing of the distance as he muttered. “Shouldn’t have to risk everything just to do bad things.”

“Good men die, too, Joel,” You were firm, “I wanna be…” You trailed off. He looked back to you and traced a finger over your collar bone, admiring the marks that had formed from his kisses. “Wanna be around you. With you.” You saw a faint smile creep across his face.

“Not a good man?”

You scoffed, “Never a good man. Wouldn’t know how to handle me.” He laughed softly. You allowed his hands to roam over your body while you mirrored his movements, tracing your fingers over the scars that littered his chest. “Come with me on the next run.” You weren’t asking.

For the first time in 20-odd years, Joel was unable to say no.

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 5 months

Text

Grandma's Visit.

Warnings: Drama, mild angst, Strained Relationships. Comfort towards the end. No proofread

Summary: Conchata wants to meet Benji.

A/N: There might not be updates, but have this little piece as an offer :')

Hey

Gabriel's leg bounced as the main door was closed, a bit of a slam on it. His hands immediately fetched his phone.

Migue

Busy right now.

Drop that shit and listen

?? ¿Qué pasó? (What's wrong?)

Mamá va para allá, cabrón.

The fuck you mean she's on her way? Did you tell her where do I live?

Miguel, it's mom we're talking about.

The eldest O'Hara sighed and raked a hand over his hair. He was definitely not prepared for what laid ahead.

She wants to meet Benjamin.

Miguel's body tensed as his muscles flexed so tightly, one would think he'd break. And it wasn't far from the truth.

Conchata. Or Connie for her friends, was the ever annoying stone on his shoes. Miguel had refused to have her in his wedding. Not out of spite, rather for the notion he had of his beloved progenitor. He knew that trouble followed her everywhere and if it wasn't following her like an overly attached stalker, is cause she was the problem itself.

Conchata was anything but easy to be around. And things had gone even more acrid after the wedding. Miguel never told you about the fourty five minute call she made him just to say how much of a bad son he was for not inviting her over.

But Miguel knew better, if he'd had her, she'd either complain about everything, ruining the mood for everyone. Or she'd start making snide comments on you and he'd get pissed, some drama would ensue causing an even bigger and jagged rift between them and his wedding would be ruined.

"Hey"

Your gentle and soft touch grounded him, anchored his mind back to his body, as his attention snapped back at you.

"You ok?"

His eyes felt tired and heavy. Unable to meet your gaze completely.

"I'll be."

You cradled him in your arms and kissed the top of his forehead. The touch alone melted him. His own arms embracing your shorter form, that somehow did the perfect work of comforting him and ease his thoughts. But when it came to his mother, little good things came out from it.

"My... eh-" He cleared his throat, "My mother is coming for a visit"

Oh...

"What she could possibly want after so many years?"

"Meet Benjamin."

Even though his words seemed simple, the clenching of his fists until his knuckles turned white, only dictated it was far from being that. Miguel didn't fear his mother, but feared and hated the words that could possibly escape her mouth when things weren't her way.

His wellbeing would be the sacrifice for the visit, cause he'd do anything possible to avoid you or his children get hurt.

"I swear, if she says or does something stupid-"

"Mi reina, let me handle her, ok?"

Your lips pursed and your brows deepened in a soft furrow.

"I won't hesitate-"

"I know. But please. Just, let me, ok?"

Both of you knew that things weren't going to be easy, his distress was obvious, he knew you'd step in if necessary, but he had to face her, it was more like a closure for him than anything. His baby boy wouldn't suffer the dooming and cursing words she gave him so many years ago. Words he learned to loathe as he grew up.

"Alright."

----

Maybe Gabriel's heads up was a false alarm, because nearly a week had gone by. A week of pent up stress and anxiety from both sides. And you could tell from Miguel's demeanor changing.

Even though being loving and a great father remained on the top list, you knew better than that. He'd been found asleep in his office after dinner, or would shut out himself for some little minutes. You'd give him space, and when he needed you, he'd always know where to find you.

He didn't even required to say 'I need you' cause you knew. His body language over the years had been a great subject of study, specially when it came to anxiety and other negatives that always switched on whenever his mother popped up in a conversation, or when something didn't sit right in his gut.

He'd pace, pick at the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood, chew at the insides of his cheek, drink alot of more coffee to keep himself awake, grumpier than usual, irritated, short replies for everything outside his beloved family.

With you he'd be clingier than usual, he'd spoil Gabi over to avoid thinking too much. He'd pour himself into being that amazing and loving parent he never had, but at night, he'd just hold you until he fell asleep. He'd clutch onto you so tightly that sometimes you'd have little bruises, barely visible ones, in the places he'd hold.

Your comfort skills poured into his preferred love language. Physical touch. You'd play with his hair until he fell asleep, a little purr coming from him before giving into sleep, you'd caress his back in soothing circles, letting the steady beating of your heart lull him to calm.

You'd kiss his face, showering him in affection, as if with every kiss a bit of his worries would go away.

The knock on the main door however interrupted his train of thoughts. You had gone to the supermarket to get some stuff you had forgotten for dinner. Relief washing over him as you now we're home, or so he innocently had thought. All air was caught in his throat upon seeing none other than Conchata on the front door.

Even for her age, Conchata had some beauty reserved. Her skin tone same as Miguel's, soft curls that lingered above her shoulders, deep brown eyes that if one looked close enough, would see the deep red in them. Tall and seizing him with a look he also learned to master.

A scowl disguised as a smile.

"Miguel. "

"Mamá."

A too common and long pleasantries shared between the both.

She hasn't aged much.

Miguel's mind chanted.

"You're gonna let me in to meet my grandson, or what?"

A bushy brow of his quirked, blasé and bored, but he stepped aside. His whole frame had curbed her for long enough.

Here we go

Her scrutinizing gaze was unstoppable against the nakedness of his home. Her eyes raked in every little detail out of place, loading her verbal ammo with it.

"Where is the baby?"

"Asleep."

Monotone and monosyllabic answers that matched his expression was all she could pry from him. It was ridiculous the amount of pictures you seemed to have about Gabriella. She saw her when she was two, then six. Staying in Miguel’s life wasn't something she actually liked to partake on. Too busy with her own demons and new boyfriends to care.

Why would she? He was already a grown ass man.

A man that refused to have her at his own wedding. A past resentment that has lasted over the years and her own mind had been feeding the fester inside her heart. It didn't help you had one of the wedding pictures scattered around the living room.

The few proofs she needed to see, to know she wasn't welcome, but knowing her son had his own now, was another excuse to see what kind of man and father Miguel had turned out to be.

His arms crossed on his chest as she sat down in one of the seats in the couch.

"Come."

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"I'm trying to be civil. The least you can do is obey your mother for once."

"Why you came?"

"I told you. I need to see my grandson."

"Whatever for?"

Her eyes hardened at his words, but a sigh escaped her lips.

"God, you're so like your father. Always mistrusting people."

"You need to leave."

Hearing her say such curse, made his heart beat even faster. Hands clenched tightly at his sides. Eyes away from her, like if the mere sight of her brought back so many unpleasantness he had fought hard to work them through.

"I won't leave until your... woman shows up and throws me away."

"She will."

"Of course she will. You're not man enough. Just look at this place. A mess."

"And?"

Miguel knew that paying and baiting into her games, would only hinder so. many years of progress he had done on his own. But would also mean to give her the attention she desperately seeked, even if it meant to do it the wrong way.

"What do you mean, and?! What does she does around all day?" Conchata huffed, " In my times the wife was the one that kept everything in check. I've seen nothing but a mess so far."

"Sorry for that."

Your tired and irked voice echoed from the kitchen's door. Miguel gave you a little smirk.

"Have been busy being a real mother this whole time. Miguel, mi amor can you defrost some vegetables, please?"

"Sure do. Found everything?"

You both were purposely ignoring her. A silent yet powerful statement.

You have no power here.

Conchata's eyes set like stone into you. How dared a tiny flea like yourself to speak to her in such way?. And even worse, how could his son be lenient in allowing you to be disrespectful towards her?

You had entered quietly, the heavy and draining aura could be felt even from outside. You had told Gabi to wait outside and rearrange the groceries in the meantime.

" Oh, I didn't know you had returned."

Your name rolling off her tongue felt wrong.

" It's my house too."

"Ah, of course. You didn't do a pre-nup. Te va a dejar en la calle, Miguel." (She'll leave you bare)

Conchata's gaze never left you, it only turned even more intense as her pupils followed you every step.

"I came here to meet my grandson. Where is Gabriella? "

Said precious child helped you to get the bags from your car, while Conchata opened her arms for Gabi to cuddle her. But everything that came out was her hiding behind you, while looking between you and her, as if asking permission.

"Do you want to greet grandma, baby?"

Gabi only recoiled back, hiding further from you.

"Guess not."

You shrugged and instructed Gabi to go to her room, your eldest baby ignored her grandma.

"Muy chistosa tu mujer, enseñándole a mis nietos a irrespetarme ." (Your woman is so funny by teaching my grandkids to disrespect me.)

Miguel had to roll his eyes and stare at her boringly as he pulled out the vegetables and put them to thaw while you clenched your jaw by the sudden resented babbling that came from your mother in law.

"Where is Benjamin? I came here to see him. And I'm sure you'd love to have me here again."

"He'll be up in a minute. Would you like a a glass of water?"

Miguel offered but Conchata was already set in making you as uncomfortable as possible. And when Benjamin was brought in, rubbing his sleepy and baby face, looking for you, Conchata stood and took Benji from Miguel's arms. Holding him with such disingenuous affection it made Benji to reach for Miguel instantly.

You tensed, and so did Benjamin as Conchata admired him. If it wasn't for the skin tone matching Miguel’s, one would think that Benjamin wasn't his. Benjamin had your curls. And not Miguel's soft waves. Benjamin was the splitting image of you with a bit of Miguel's DNA painted in a few selected places. Like his eyes and height.

"I'm actually surprised you managed to pop out his children. Miguel is... big. Got it from his father."

"Didn't care much about that, ma'am."

"No se parece en nada a ti, Miguel. ¿Estás seguro que es tu hijo?" (He doesn't look like you. Are you sure he's your son?)

You didn't know what infuriated you more. The fact that she hinted that Benjamin wasn't his, a shallow and not so subtle hint at Miguel's past, or the pleased smirk her mouth turned into after spilling out the venom and seeing Miguel's discomfit grow.

Some people couldn't be helped. And Conchata truly couldn't help but love hurting her son. But you weren't having it. Not when Miguel's eyes turned away from her, not in hurt but in such anger that even you knew things wouldn't end up good for neither. And still, he regarded her with uninterested eyes.

His lack of engagement at her taunts, made her even more lashing. Like a little child that refused to have her whims met.

Even worse when Benjamin started to fuss and reach for him with a nervous cry. Even he felt odd and icky around her. You took Benjamin from her, cooing and soothing him, but he wanted Miguel. Who gladly took his precious baby, away from Connie. Inspecting him for any damage to finally kiss the top of his forehead, reassuringly.

You're safe.

"Si ya terminó de incomodarnos, creo que se puede ir, señora." (If you're done making us uncomfortable, you may go, ma'am.)

Her eyes widened at your spanish. It was clear that you had understood everything she had said, but were wise enough to not lose your temper, yet you fought back.

"Remind me to never visit you again, please."

"As if you ever do that. And no, it's not an invitation."

"Escúchame bien, chamaco ingrato-" (Listen to me you ungrateful brat)

"Ma'am."

You weren't one for yelling, but your voice was firm enough to have three pair of eyes set on you, Benjamin's fussing stopped. Conchata's lips turned into a scowl at your words.

"Thanks for your visit."

"You know, you could've settled for something better-"

"Así estoy bien, gracias. Now, if you excuse us, We've got dinner to make. The door is right there." (Im just fine. Thanks)

She left with a slam that had Benjamin cry out of the jumpscare.

Miguel hushed and rubbed his baby's back in little circles to keep him calm before giving his pacifier.

" You ok? "

Your hand squeezed Miguel's for a moment while he kissed your temple gratefully.

" Yeah. She's gone. That's why exactly I didn't invite her to the wedding or meeting you."

"It's alright. God... she's-"

"Annoying. I know. Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Nah. I'm glad you taught me cause, damn... Her face upon hearing me speaking it, was priceless. And just for you to know, I was about to explain how we almost made Benji on the car."

Miguel snorted and nodded, knowing you would. You had each other's back and that wasn't up for discussion.

" Te amo."

You mumbled in his ear before stealing a kiss from his lips.

" También te amo."

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#gabi o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #conchata o'hara #benjamin o'hara #mama o'hara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #x reader #astv fanfic

455 notes · View notes

milliesdiary · 2 years

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃 — 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you were born from adultry and look the part. as a result, a child calls you a bastard and your partner reacts accordingly!

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; rhaenyra, daemon, alicent, jace, aemond, aegon

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; established relationship, violence, fluff. female reader. imagine y’all are on a walk outside the palace or something LMAO

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; i know aemond, alicent, and aegon have negative views toward “bastards,” but they fell in love with you anyway. sorry i dont make the rules <3

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀

the second the words come from that child’s mouth, rhaenyra’s head is whipping around at the speed of light. she almost doesn’t know what to say at first, the words still processing in her head — but then an anger strong as a tempest builds inside of her. dealing with such things with her boys has certainly amped something up in her; the second that word is mentioned and she’s automatically in fight mode. “that is a vile accusation,” she spits, her voice waspish and rich with ill-concealed anger. “go. now.” the white sheet of her silver hair alone is enough to have the kid reconsidering their actions and send them running. no one dares insult the princess: not face-to-face at least. the second they’re gone, rhaenyra is turning toward you and clasps your cheeks in her hands, her eyes shining with that stubborn charm you love: “pay them no mind. you are like anyone else in this house,” she assures, drawing you into a tight, almost motherly hug. “true-born.”

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍

daemon has never been one for following rules, so him choosing to be in a courtship with you would not be out of the norm; his love does not know titles or traditions. when you’re called a bastard, daemon fucking laughs; not at your expense, but at the idea that a child thought they had the right to speak on such a thing, let alone levy such insults at a woman. you glance over at him, but he doesn’t return the look, only staring the kid down with those sharp eyes of his. not a single word has to come from his mouth and you know what he’s thinking: say it. you can’t imagine being on the receiving end of his cold stare — and it’s apparently excruciating, considering the child mutters out a ‘sorry’ and practically sprints away. they’re gone now, but daemon knows the words aren’t; you’ll probably think about them the rest of the day. he’s not one to pry though, so he merely grabs you by the hand and tilts his head down to press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “it’s refreshing, isn’t it?” his voice rumbles, tone snarky. he raises his head slowly with a quirk of his lips. “not having children who are cunts.”

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

a hypocrite, no doubt: berating rhaenyra’s sons for being bastards and yet falling in love with one herself. she understands it better now, what it means to accept someone born from adultery; it’s something she’d do for you, at least. so once a child catches sight of you and calls you such, her brows are knitting together and she’s swiveling in that direction. the only thing she can do is just stand in pure surprise and shock, especially upon noticing it was a kid who spoke it. the child doesn’t do anything else (probably just now realizing that you’re with the Queen), and disappears rather quickly out of fear. the moment they’re gone, alicent is immediately looking at you and trying to analyze your expression. her hands quickly find themselves upon your shoulders and she lines her face up to yours so you meet her eyes. “listen to me. people will try to impress on you that you’re a mistake. you must reject this counsel. what happened in the past doesn’t matter,” she promises, nodding her head as she says it. alicent’s hand comes to rest on your cheek and she gives a sympathetic, sweet smile — one that she always wore when she was 15, and one she only wears for you now. “you are mine, and i am yours.”

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄

the child didn't just breach the line between mockery and outright bullying; no, they stripped it away completely. jace knows exactly what it is like to be harassed for being different. the moment the word comes out, jace is spinning on a heel toward the assailant; he thinks twice about making a scene, because he’s been called it so many times and he should be used to it by now — but then he realizes that the child is talking about you. almost instantly, a brutal heat settles in the pit of his stomach. perhaps its ser harwin’s temper, or maybe his mother’s; wherever it comes from, it’s red-hot and searing, much like the flames that burst from the mouth of the dragon he rides. “what did you just say?!” jace automatically challenges, taking a step toward the child. his voice is deeper when he’s angry, matching the way his dark brows frame his narrowed eyes. a mix of a sneer and a frown is on his lips, and if that wasn’t telling enough, his hands are balled into fists. rest assured that if the kid continued, they would be getting a boot to the chest; jace has a younger brother and knows not to go overboard, but also knows that something like this can’t go unchecked. once the child admits defeat, jace is letting out a scoff and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ward off his anger. “don’t let anyone say that to you,” he says, trying to scold: instead, his words come out less stern and more soft. “we are not bastards. we belong in our families.” jace just stares at you with those pretty eyes of his, waiting for you to nod before he gives a strained smile and leads you along. expect him to hold a grudge against that kid forever.

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

aemond has always had a sense of duty that aegon does not; he resents his nephews to the extreme for being bastards. but when it comes to you... well, perhaps there is an exception (he’s a giant hypocrite, thank you very much). similar to jace, aemond is instantly on the kid’s case. as awful as it may be, he has no qualms with hurting a child. “do my ears betray me?” he questions sharply, staring the kid down with that eye of his, lips slightly quirked. he’s livid, but he conceals it fairly well — the only telling part of his anger is how tense his jaw has become from clenching his teeth. if the child did not realize that he was talking to the secret lover of the prince, he sure does now. aemond slides his dagger out of its hidden holster on his hip, and when the child’s eyes widen, he almost lets out a breathy chuckle; he swallows it deep down and decides on a warning: “say it again and i will have your tongue.” the moment the child is gone (and thoroughly terrified), aemond takes in your almost shocked expression. “it was a jest,” he concludes coolly as he sheathes the dagger; you know it was anything but. a smirk graces his lips as he takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb: "though considering the circumstances,” he whispers, “i would count him lucky, my lady.”

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍

like his mother and aemond, aegon certainly has favoritism when it comes to someone being a “bastard.” he would laugh hysterically if it was directed at his nephews. if it were you though? his woman? it’s another story. quick to anger, aegon’s face screws up the moment the child taunts you. he can be lazy and sullen, yes, choosing alcohol over confrontation any day and drowning in cups — but if someone said that shit to you? he’s suddenly very responsive. impulsively, aegon slaps the child across the face. not only is he upset, but he’s slow to forgive, so don’t expect him to feel bad. he winds back around after, not even giving the kid a second glance when they start to cry. “what? he’ll be fine,” aegon murmurs upon seeing your expression of surprise. he lets out a derisive snort and grabs you protectively by the wrist, pulling you along; no one shall lay a single insult on anything (or in this case, anyone) that aegon claims his own. “if i had it my way, that little shit’s parents would be searching the seven hells for him.” then, after shooting you a vengeful grin, he leans in to whisper hotly into your ear. “when i’m king, i’ll be sure they are the first to go.”

4K notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 9 months

Text

If You Don't Want the Truth, then Don't Ask

Oscar Piastri x Autistic!Reader

Genre: fluff

Request: kinda...? People want more of this content, so who am I to deny them? My requests are open! Please don't hesitate to send me ideas!

Summary: One thing that Oscar loves most about her is that she's always honest. Unfortunately, it seems not everyone has learned that.

Warnings: Media being toxic, the reader gets frustrated at not understanding human behavior

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

Oscar had fallen in love with her honesty. He never had to guess at her opinions on things or dance around subjects himself.

It was a reprieve from always being coached in media to finally not having to filter himself.

Anyone who had gotten close to her knew one rule she had: if you don't want an honest answer, then don't ask.

She struggles communicating with vocal tones. People often mistake her opinion for being judgemental. It makes her feel unable to speak up for herself. It was never her intention to cause problems. She was just saying her truth.

Emotional communication is even more difficult. She always manages to say the wrong thing. Oscar didn't believe this and felt comforted when she talked him through the truth of the day. But if she was struggling with words and emotions, she opted to communicate via physical touch.

She'd developed a code for human behaviors she didn't quite understand.

When charles was upset about a race, she hugged him. When Oscar was smiling, she kissed his cheek. When Max was being lectured by his father, she stuck her middle finger up at Jos. When Lando couldn't eat his food, she gave him one of her snacks that he also liked.

It became more natural to the grid the more she did these things.

Unfortunately for the fans and the media, they hadn't figured it out. It was ridiculous in everyone's minds how they never learned their lesson.

A picture started circling the internet once of her kissing Lando's cheek after an amazing race. She knew it was a happy moment but was too overwhelmed to deal with words. Oscar knew she did this to anyone she was comfortable with and knew she was loyal. She'd expressed repeatedly why she loved him and not Lando. Oscar only laughed as she went down her very pointed list of reasons why Oscar was better. Earning a pout from the Brit.

The fans started calling her all sorts of nasty names. It hurt her a little, but Oscar even more. He'd expressed multiple times to his fans not to involve her in drama.

Race weekend got a bit awkward. Journalists wanted to ask the two questions. Oscar was quick to deny them attention and left for free practice.

The nerospicy femal, however, was not as lucky. Somone found her hiding in the garage.

"Are you aware of the photo going around social media right now?" The female reporter asked her.

She hesitated for a moment, trying to find her voice. "Yes." The reporter waited a minute for her to elaborate only to receive silence.

She clears her throat. "Do you have any thoughts about it? Are the rumors true?"

She stares again for a moment. "I think you people are bored and want to pick apart someone else's life instead of your own."

It was the reporters turn to stay in silence. "That may be true for some." She fumbles. "But the concern of the fans is that you'll have a negative effect on the McLaren racing drivers."

"I think the fans you speak of are niave then. Not every human being is the same. I'm in love with Oscar, not Lando, as simple as that. Just because my affection looks different doesn't mean I'm doing anything wrong." The girl shrugs her shoulders. Simply stating a fact of herself.

The reporter leaves in silence. No other words were shared between them.

Oscar saw the article the next day. They were getting ready to head to the track for FP3 and qualifying. "Have you seen this article?" He asked.

"No, what article?" Oscar flips his phone to her. The reporter from yesterday had written an article about their conversation. Interestingly enough, it was exactly what she had said. The journalist was impressed with her honesty and approach to toxic rumors.

Oscar kissed her cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

The next time it happened was during an interview in the fan zone. She'd been standing off to the side with the other McLaren staff who follow them around. She likes listening to the fans ask the boys questions.

Then a fan asked a question about her. "Oscar, why is your girlfriend mean to the reporters?"

Both Oscar and Lando rolled their eyes. "She's here right now if you want an honest answer." Oscar smirked.

It was terrifying when Oscar and Lando were waving her up to the stage. She waited for the approval of the staff and security before exchanging seats with the Australian.

He looked so please she was up there. "The fans want to know why you're so 'mean' to the reporters, as they put it." The two boys were laughing hysterically now.

"I personally don't think it's mean. If they don't want an honest answer, then they shouldn't be asking questions." She shrugged. "Is there a specific time you're referring too?"

"When the vouge journalists asked if you were hiding something because you wear loose clothing."

Lando perked up instantly. "This is one of my favorite moments. We went out and got her favorite dinner after this to celebrate."

"Firtly, the reporter had no business asking that. I don't like it when my clothes feel weird and I was already overwhelmed so I wore what I thought was comfortable." Oscar put his arm around her. A hint of pride edging its way across his features. "Secondly, the didn't put the whole story. The reporter asked if I was pregnant, and then when I said no, he proceeded to ask me if I was wearing anything underneath."

"The comeback is the best part."

"I was confused why he asked me this, so I asked if he had anything underneath the hideous mask he was wearing. Then he called me rude." She frowned, but the fans were enjoying the story.

Oscar glances at Lando. "You should tell the next part."

Lando is still chuckling from the last statement. "I was coming around the corner and heard her say that, then I couldn't stop laughing. So obviously I joined in as well."

The other two were shaking their heads at Lando in exasperation as he continued. "When I came up next to her, she asked why he would ask something like that. It's a pretty common question between us, so I explained why he did it and why he shouldn't do it."

"Then he insulted him some more."

Oscar finishes out the story and also laughs at this point. "Most of the things in the article were what Lando said. The others were what she did say. Including asking if this was his way of flirting and turned him down on his advances."

She always missed social cues, and she'd heard some of the drivers flirt by asking what someone had on underneath their clothing. It was a genuine assumption.

Oscar found it most amusing as Lando recounted the story for the first time that evening. She had looked mildly dazed, frustrated, and confused. Oscar took the time, in between laughing, to explain some of the nuances she didn't understand. Including why they were laughing so hard.

Next came a conversation with Zak.

The boys were doing media things, so he'd started to try and make conversation with her.

He was a person who did not understand that she's autistic and communicates different then he was expecting. Normally, Oscar or Lando was here to help things flow, but now she was going to need to swim on her own.

"Have you been enjoying Monaco?" He asked.

She played with her fingers to help her brain stay present. Something she often did to stim when she didn't want it to be noticeable. "It's cozy when it's not race weekend. I think the race has made it crowded."

He looked a little surprised. "Do you not like crowds? I thought you did since you come to most of the races."

"Seeing them is fine. Being trapped in them is difficult."

"That's a little odd of a perspective, don't you think?" He laughed. "I feel like you either enjoy the crowds or you hate them."

She didn't understand what he meant by that. Didn't she just say what she thought? Why was he asking the same question? "Factually, I think you can enjoy seeing a crowd, like on TV, and also become claustrophobic when in one."

He didn't know how to respond. The staring became awkward for him as he tried to respond. She just waited. Assuming he had now understood her point. Then he came up with an excuse as to why he needed to duck out of the conversation.

Zak asked Oscar about it later. To which the Australian internally face-palmed. Then, he proceeded to explain the unspoken role.

Zak apologized the next day if he made her uncomfortable. She just looked between him and Oscar. Hoping for an answer as to how he could've done that.

It took a while, but they finally got their. Now Zak goes to her if he ever wants an honest opinion on something.

The most recent time actually hurt her. She spent days inside her and Oscar's room. Struggling to eat, sleep, and communicate.

She was lucky that Oscar was around to help her through this. His frustration almost overwhelming his own mind.

Two weeks ago, they had been in Silverstone. It was an amazing race, and she felt happy that she got to share it with him.

She had been making friends with the other WAG's around the paddock. So when Oscar was pulled away, she went to find someone to hang out with until they finished.

She found Kika and Lily in the Williams hospitality. It was warm in the building, so when she sat down with them, she decided to get comfortable and took off her sweatshirt.

Her shirt that day was not the usual baggy t-shirt and jeans. Today's she was wearing a crop-top that showed her stomach, but she felt cute and confident, and Oscar complimented her on it the entire morning. He said she looked good when she's comfortable and that's what matters to him.

Her body was not the ideal body type that meets the standard beauty criteria. Frankly, she didn't care.

She's healthy. She's comfortable. Oscar has said daily that he loves her as she is.

She wasn't expecting the fans in hospitality to ask her anything about it.

When she got up to get water, a few young women approached her. This had happened before, and she assumed they wanted to ask about Oscar or know of they could get a picture with him.

She assumed wrong.

"How come you're not wearing what you normally do?"

"Because I felt comfortable in this today."

"I think the other style suits you better. Don't you think?"

"I don't have a style. This is just comfortable."

"Is this because Oscar likes it better?"

"No, he likes it when I'm comfortable."

She was trying to keep up. All the questions flying at her rapidly. The music was reverberating off the wall. The hospitality staff were cleaning and packing.

Her head started to spin. Her hands flew up to cover her ears. She was going to cry if she didn't get out.

She was thankful the Kika and Lily noticed and got her out of the area. Blocking anyone from speaking to her and ignoring those who tried to stop them.

They ran into Oscar on the way to somewhere quiet. He immediately placed his hands over hers to try and help block out more sound until he could get her to her headphones.

Kika and Lily explained what happened. The females asking her questions were not understanding why she was giving them the same answer. Their intentions were unknown, but it was obvious she looked uncomfortable and cornered in that moment.

So he led her away into his driver room and told her she could lock the door and he'd come get her when it was time to leave. She obliged, turning off the lights to help her senses.

She curled up in the corner and soothed herself until Oscar came back.

Someone had taken a video of the encounter, and people started asking questions about her. Why does she do the things she does? It didn't make any sense to them. It made her frustrated because they made her out to be an alien on her own planet.

Her body couldn't take it anymore. She stayed in her corner with the lights off and shut out the world.

Except for Oscar. He sat in the dark with her. They ate meals on the floor. He helped her bathe in the dark. She felt so lucky to have found someone who understands and cares as much as he does.

His PR team was trying to do something about the video. It wasn't right for it to be posted, and McLaren was doing what they could, but It wasn't enough.

So Oscar took matters into his own hands. He decided to answer all their questions. With her permission, of course.

She cried when she read it. He was happy that she felt safe enough with him to let herself unmask, but he wanted her to be able to unmask anywhere. They were taking a step in the right direction, and they both ate comfort food that night.

Instagram story message because idk how people do SMAU's: "I want to take a minute to address the video that was posted about my girlfriend recently. My girlfriend is Autistic, meaning that things can become overwhelming easily. You might not understand everything she does, but you don't have to. She is her own person and has her own life. What she answers to questions is her truth. If you don't want an honest answer, don't ask the question.

-Oscar

777 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 10 months

Text

No One Left Behind

Xaden Riorson x f!Reader

A/n: I know the book has only been out for a few months but I was hoping there would be more FW fics. Xaden is my new favorite book bf so there might be more of these fics coming in the future. My requests are open so feel free to request any SJM or Fourth Wing character

Warnings: a few swear words lol

As the squad landed back in the flight field Xaden searched for your dragon, Cadmus, who was seemingly missing from the group. His brow furrows and heart rate starts to pick up. You just had to be a little behind, right? No that wasn’t like you, your speed was building and you were a faster flier than most in the squad.

Lately, Xaden had been taking the time to fly with each individual squad in Fourth Wing to make sure everyone was prepared for War Games. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

He dismounts Sgaeyl as Liam dismounts Deigh. Xaden shoots Liam a confused, angry look as to say ‘where is she?’ Liam shrugs looking around as if he could see you when Xaden couldn’t. His attention is ripped from his search for you when he hears laughter from the back of the group. Amon. And his stupid lackeys.

As soon as Xaden heard that little shits laugh he knew Amon had something to do with you not making it back to the flight field with the rest of the squad. Fury took over his entire body as he started stalking over to the boys. It took all of his restraint to keep his shadows reined in, so they wouldn’t strangle Amon. One of them had the sense to look uneasy about the whole situation as Xaden got closer.

Once Amon was within arms reach Xaden grabbed the fucker by the front of his flight jacket. Fuming, Xaden growled out, “You have one chance, just the one, to tell me where she is.” “I’m not sure-“ He raised his voice so the squad could hear, “As wingleader I’m giving you one shot! Cadet!” He spits out the last part emphasizing how below him Amon is.

“Y/n isn’t very good at evasive maneuvers,” the little shit had the audacity to smirk, “so I thought I’d help her practice. Gotta work on those rolls.” Xaden was fuming as he pushed Amon backwards into the two boys behind him. He pivoted on his heel, walking quickly back to Sgaeyl so he could fly back out to find you.

As he mounted Sgaeyl his mind was racing with all the horrible what ifs. What if you had fallen off Cadmus? What if Cadmus lost control and crashed, killing you both? No, he couldn’t think like that. It helps nothing if he thinks of the negative.

Flying fast and low over the vast mountains and forest of Basgiath, both Xaden and Sgaeyl were on the hunt for you.

After 20 minutes Xaden spotted Cadmus running through a break in a canopy of trees. “Down there!” He shouted to Sgaeyl. She swooped down into a clearing as Cadmus turned around. Xaden noticed you weren’t in the saddle. But, it seemed as though Cadmus was smiling and wagging his tail back and forth like a dog. It was then that Xaden saw the medium sized tree branch between his jaws.

“He says she’s a few feet behind us sitting under a tree. She is unharmed. Stupid dog.” Sgaeyl says only for Xaden to hear. He jumped from her scaly blue back clumsily, like he was dismounting for the first time.

“Y/N!” He yelled, voice echoing across the forest. He broke into a jog, finally seeing you exactly where Sgaeyl said you were. You were about to rise up from your shady spot when you saw Xaden come into view. He tilts his head back and lets out an exasperated sigh, with his hands on his hips.

He strides over to you. You look up at him, feigning innocence as he looks down at you. Annoyance contorting his perfect face, making the scar that cuts through his eyebrow crinkle in that cute way when he’s mad. “Are you serious? You had me scared shitless! I thought Amon killed you for gods sake!”

Guilt immediately rushed over your body. You didn’t mean to scare him like that. You just wanted to teach Amon a lesson to not fuck with you. “I didn’t mean to stay here this long, I’m sorry.” You stand taking his large hands off his hips and holding them in your tiny ones. “I was going to come back just a few minutes after the squad landed. Hopefully to you, Liam, Rhi, and Garrick scaring the shit out of him.”

Xaden leaned his forehead down to meet yours. “As funny as that would’ve been sweetheart, I’m going to ask you to never ever do something like this again.” You giggle, “I promise, baby. I’ll just have to think of something else.”

“You are going to be the death of me sweetheart.” He cups your face in both hands and leans in to kiss you. It was soft and sweet. You deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Before the kiss, and Xaden’s wandering hands, could go any farther you hear Cadmus huff and drop his tree branch.

Breaking apart Xaden shoots the red Daggertail, a look that would scare anyone. Lucky for you both Cadmus was unusually friendly for a dragon. He turns back to you, “So what’s the deal with him and the stick.” You purse your lips and look down sheepishly. “Fetch is his favorite game! Don’t judge.” You push his chest lightly. He grabs your wrist pulling you in for one more kiss before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“HEY!” You jokingly struggle against him. “Alright sweetheart, back on your dragon. We’ve been gone long enough and if Liam got to kill Amon before I could I’m gonna be pissed.” He puts you down next to Cadmus’ forelegs ruffling your hair.

You turn to give Cadmus an accusing look. “You were supposed to ask Deigh when they were almost back. What happened?” Cadmus huffs, “I forgot. In my defense, you were making fetch very fun this round.” He says in your head. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going, you overgrown dog.”

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #xaden riorson #liam mairi #xadenviolet #Xaden Riorson x reader #Xaden x reader #Sgaeyl

738 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months

Note

Viktor or Mordecai rut hcs?

A/n: Why not both 👏

•Viktor Vasko•

Viktor had thought he stopped going through his ruts when his wife left him but oh was he wrong because the moment you stepped foot into the Lackadaisy something inside him was ignited.

He tries so, so hard to suppress his feelings, you're so young. Even if you're together, Viktor is still scared to approach this topic with you. Would mostly go out to some underground fight club. He honestly think that he'll hurt you if he fucks you. You're so small compared to his much large size.

Mitzi is the one that know's whats off, she does her best to help though it involved Rocky over hearing them talk which lead to him blabbing to you about Viktors issue.

Viktor wanted to kill him.

You teased him about it, and ask told him he should have just told you. You two had sex before, why should him be in a rut be any different.

It is.

Viktor is very possessive of you during his ruts, the man does not let anyone even step foot near you and if they dead...well it's not going to be pretty and anyone with a brain can realize that you two are together. Your neck will be marked, you will be wearing his shirt and you will be scented by him.

While Viktor isn't as young as he used to be, doesn't mean he can't go a few rounds.

Viktor loves to hold you after, he can finally relax around you. He feel's safe with you and during his ruts somewhere deep down he hopes that he'll get you pregnant. He'd love nothing more than to breed you, he would love to see you carrying his child.

•Mordecai Heller•

Mordecai has never happened to him until he met you or if it did then he never realized it was a rut, he just thought he was slightly more angry than normal.

While it took time for Mordecai to realize his feelings for you and to even approach the topic of sex he noticed a small change in him. Your scent / perfume, the clothes you wore, your laughter and smile. It effected him a lot more during his rut then he'd like to admit.

Was really at a standstill on who to ask, he wasn't about goto Viktor, he'd never be able look him in the eye after. Mordecai tried to broach the topic with Nico though that lead to bastard only laughing and teasing him....he desperately wanted to shook it, at least Serafine gave him a book.

Mordecai is a bit more possessive than he comes to realize. He hates when other men approach you, if he's not near you then he is hiding in the shadows making sure you are safe.

More soft, he loves to nuzzle into you, hold you. Mordecai would rather just lay in bed with you than do anything else.

Why do you smell so good?

Get's an insatiable urge to breed you, god it's the only thing on his mind. Mordecai doesn't know where it comes from but god does he want it.

Is quick to jealousy,Mordecai thinks you might leave him during his rut. Get's a lot of doubts about himself, has a lot of negative thoughts.

#lackadaisy #viktor #viktor vasko #viktor vasko lackadaisy #lackadaisy viktor #lackadaisy viktor vasko #viktor lackadaisy #viktor vasko x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #mordecai #mordecai heller #mordecai lackadaisy #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy x reader #mordecai heller lackadaisy #lackadaisy mordecai heller

204 notes · View notes

gadriezmannsgirl · 8 months

Note

Hola, chica bella 💛

Here to ask for the part 2 of Believe what you want because I need it already ✨️🫠 byebye 💙

The fact you knew already that I was posting it and you requested part II even before it was out🤭🥹🫶🏼.

For this one you should listen: What I Put You Through - Connor Maynard

Part 1 here Happy version

Believe What You Want (2) -P.G8

(Angsty version)

Summary: After realizing he fucked up, he tries his best to get you back

"I overheard them speaking that night at Fer's birthday. Victoria was going on about you and her, that your things with Y/N would end up soon... Those kind"

Pedri's mind was racing in fear and agony. "No" He whispered "Is there any possibility for Victoria to have made those burns in Y/N's skin?" "

"Well, it can be... She got out of the house around noon so..." Pedri's eyes clicked up like lightning all the dots were connecting by your side.

You were right. All this time you were.

He had been too stupid to realize that

"No" He whispered once more

"What's up, dude?"

"I fucked up bro. Big one"

...

"She doesn't answer me" Pedri said for the fifteen time in a row pacing around in his room

"And she won't answer to you" Fer said "I mean... I wouldn't answer you either"

Pedri had explained everything to the three guys in the room, Fer knowing a bit more thanks to you. And he knew that his younger brother loves you to death but he also knows that what he did, wasn't right.

"¡Joder! ¡Soy un puto idiota!" (Fuck! I'm an asshole!) Pedro yelled kicking a ball in his room crashing into one of your pictures together "No, joder... No" (No, shit... No) He hurried to pick up the picture and inspect it. It had one little scratch made from the glass, the scratch made in between the two of you.

He shook all the negative thoughts that were running in his head and changed the photo frame.

"Well, you've got to understand her" Adrián began speaking "All of this could be true and her boyfriend just choosed to not believe her"

"I did not just choose not to believe her"

"You basically did, bro" Fer hissed "I mean... If my girl tells me that I would do more than just talking with each girl separatedly"

"And not only that but you also told her your personal fights as a couple" Jesús said

"Because she's my best friend!"

"Hermano..." Fer started "That's meant to be something only for the two of you, not something for you, Victoria and Y/N" Fer shook his head "I mean... It's okay you ask someone else for an advice, like what to do or stuffs but not to rant because for that, you've your girl. The one who's in the relationship with you. The one who's with you in the goods and the bads" silence flowed into the room, Pedri's heart was beating incredibly fast "If you want her back, you need to fully work for it, Pedro. Words won't do half of the work you gotta do"

And that was it.

Pedri broke down, feeling already the loss of the love of his life not being next to him, this time a bit heavier than the past 7 days. He left you when you didn't do anything at all. He threw you and your relationship away without a good reason. Tears escaped his eyes and his breathing was erratic.

All of his thoughts were about you and imaginating a life without you in it, thanks to himself.

"I'll be back before midnight" Pedro said grabbing his phone, wallet and car keys

"Where are you going? Won't you even take a shower? You smell" Adrián said shaking his head

"He cometido un grave error con la chica que amo, en estos momentos oler bien o estar guapo es lo que menos me vale" (I've made a big mistake with the girl I love, right now I don't care if I smell or look good)

"Pedro" Fer called him before he got out of the room "Buena suerte, hermano" (Good luck, bro) Pedri for the first time ever, smiled a bit.

"Thank you"

He was going to work for your forgiveness. He will make you fall in love with him again. He will win your trust again. You'll be happy with him. You'll be with him. He was going to make sure that happen.

And for that, he needed answers.

...

"Yes, there was a (Hair color) girl, with (Type of Eyes), a bit short, she was pretty nice. Sad thing she got hurt" A boy behind the counter said hissing remembering the moment "Elianna went with her, she said it was pretty bad but nothing that some cream and care couldn't do"

"Is that girl here? Elianna?" Pedri asked hopeful

"She's on her lunch break right now" The guy answered "She has the whole shift... Is it important?"

"Yes, really important" Pedri said without a doubt

"I'll let her know. You can sit anywhere and if you want to have a drink you can tell me" Pedri nodded slowly walking away.

He didn't know how much time he was there until a redhaired girl walked up to him, he without thinking straight stood up

"My workmate said you were looking for me?"

"Are you Elianna?" She nods "I'm Pedro. I'm the boyfriend of the girl that was poured coffee all over her"

"How's she?" She asked after gasping a bit at the mention of you. "I hope she's better"

"Ah-yes, she is a bit better. Thank you for asking" Pedri nodded nervous "Can I ask you something?" The girl nodded "Who poured the coffee on her?"

"Some random girl, Y/N said the girl didn't liked her..."

"Could you maybe describe her?"

"Oh, sure!" Elianna nodded "She had long hair, brunette with blonde highlights, she used tight clothes and she wasn't as short as Y/N, she was a bit more taller, maybe just like you?"

That was exactly Victoria's description.

"She entered a few minutes before Y/N, after I gave her a box of cupcakes she just kind of ran away and then next thing I knew was that the same girl poured hot coffee on Y/N"

Pedri stood there taking in all the information

"She hasn't been here since that day" Pedri nods humming "However, Y/N has and I know for a fact that her boyfriend broke up with her thanks to his best friend" Pedri looked up at her, guilt filled over his body "Why are you behind her? She's been awful these past few days, she's recovering from your treatment, why the need of asking all of this, if you don't believe her?"

"Because I fucked up. I fucked up big time and I want to mend it"

"Wish you luck... You'll deserve it because if I was her, I wouldn't even give you the time of the day or spare you a single look" Pedri looked down in shame and regret "I need to go... You want to order something?" He shook his head

"Not feeling hungry at all" He murmured grabbing his wallet and pushing some money into the girl's hand

"You aren't ordering anything"

"For you... For the help, for the info. Thank you"

And with that Pedri stood up and left the cafeteria. As soon as his body met the Catalan air, he fought the need of crying his everything out. You were right, just like you always were.

"I shouldn't have just let it pass" He said crying to himself now in the calm of his car. "I should have done something" He lamented.

His phone lighted up with a notification he didn't care about, his focus remained on a photo from the two of you at one of his spots in Barcelona to calm down and relax.

"Please, mi niña. Tell me how to make things right, tell me it's not too late, just please..." he begged at nothing because you weren't there and you haven't been since 7 days ago.

And as reality was hitting him, he knew there could be a possibility of you not going into his life ever again. Leaving him for your own good while he was suffering.

Pedro picked up his phone and dialed his best friend Jesús's number.

"¿Aló?" (Hello?)

"You said you heard them speak that night at Fer's birthday, right? I need to know everything you heard and if you saw something too, I'm on my way to pick you up so we can talk"

"You're really working for Y/N?"

"I am" Pedri nodded "I fucked up and I'm trying to mend everything with her"

"I'm waiting for you, hermano and also..."

"¿Qué?" (What?)

"Good luck, you'll need it"

That phrase was starting to get on his nerves, he didn't liked how that sounded, because it seemed like even with all the effort he'll make, it'll not be enough to bring you back into his arms.

"Thanks bro"

...Two days later...

"Why?" Pedri said entering Victoria's house

"Hola Vic. ¿Cómo estas? ¿Qué tal va todo? Días sin verte" (Hi Vic. How are you? How's everything going? Long time not to see) She mockingly said with a smile but her smile was wipped off of her face when she saw Pedri's seriousness

"No estoy para juegos. Dime el por que has hecho eso" (I'm not in the mood for games. Tell me why you've done that)

"Done what?"

"¿Me estás tomando el pelo?" (Are you making fun of me?) Pedri hissed angry "Stop playing around and tell me... why you did all of that to Y/N?"

Victoria's face changed

"I didn't do anything"

"You did. Don't lie to me about anything because I know how things went now" Victoria's face changed

"What do you mean?"

"I know you poured hot coffee on her that day at the coffee, I know you've been telling her things behind my back about my relationship with her and stuffs, I know you poured her drink on yourself but made it look like it was her doing" Pedri shook his head not believing it "You faked things and like a fucking stupid I believed them, when the one I should've believed was my girlfriend! You damaged my relationship but I was the one breaking it for believing you, for believing my best friend"

"I let go the woman I'm in love with and it was all thanks to you because I never thought that my best friend, the one who has been besides me through my whole life could do such a thing and lie to me straight to my face!" Pedri's face was red and he never stopped to take a bit of air, he was fuming, he was angry and all he wanted to do was make Victoria disappear.

But most of all, all he wanted was to get you back.

"Those are lie-"

"If you even dare to say lie, I will pour the same drink Y/N was drinking that day at Fer's birthday, this time someone pouring it over you for real"

"She's making those things up!"

"She's making nothing up! I saw the video of the CCTV camera of the coffee shop, Jesús heard and saw the two of you at Fer's birthday and now that I connect dots, every single thing Y/N has told me, has sense now. And I hate the fact I couldn't see through it, I hate that I put my girlfriend's words in doubt all thanks to someone who didn't deserved a single look"

"Pedro, stop. You're hurting me"

"And don't you think you've hurted me before? You knew I was having troubles with her and all you wanted was to get her away from me. Why?" Nothing came out of Victoria's mouth

Your words came back to him and he blinked thrice, suddenly being brought back.

"Don't know" You sighed "As much as Victoria might love each and every single one of you, guys... I can assure you that what she said to me today and the way she said it, it wasn't a joke" You said "I'm a girl and I have a male best friend too. But I wouldn't say those kind of stuffs just as a friend or to see if she's worth and good for him" You shook your head "Es más, ni siquiera le diría algo de ese estilo a ella" (I wouldn't even tell her something like that)

"She likes you" You said after a few more seconds "And that's it"

"Can I ask you something and you answer me with the truth?" Pedri said with his heart on the edge, he waited and all he got was a simple and small nod from Victoria "Are you in love with me?"

A few seconds passed where Pedri's eyes never left Victoria's "Yes" She said softly "I am" Pedri felt the air being knocked out from his lungs "Pedrito"

"No" He shook his head looking away "No" Pedri's eyes grow watery, he couldn't believe it. Once again, you were right, his actions and words replaying in his head, the way he ignored your feelings, the way he treated you, everything was haunting him. "Don't call me Pedrito nor Pedro, Pedri, Pepi, nothing. Don't even call me, forget about me, you are not my best friend"

"Pedri, por favor, don't do this"

"No. I didn't do anything, you did it yourself. Best friends don't do what you did to me, if you truly loved me, you could've straight up tell me that not take it out on the girl I'm in love with"

"In love with? So in love you are, you did not believed a single thing from her"

"And that was my biggest mistake because I thought "Why on earth the girl that has been besides me since forever would do something to damage me or the ones I love?"" Pedri laughed ironically shaking his head "I was so wrong and I regret every single thing I did since I saw Y/N leave on Fer's birthday but guess what? I had the one I thought was my best friend besides me but I never did"

"You still have me"

"If I do, I don't care, the one I truly need isn't here" Pedri shook his head "But I did needed my best friend those seven days to tell me everything was going to be okay, that I could move on, that I was in the right and Y/N in the wrong, that I did good in breaking up with someone who could only do was lie but then I find everything out and I realized I was just a puppet in the side of your game and I fell for it"

"Don't say it like that"

"That's exactly what it was" Pedri shook his head "´Now, me disculpas pero me tengo que ir" (Excuse me but I've got to go)

"¿Y para dónde vas?" (Where are you going?)

"You shouldn't care about that, Victoria. Hope you have a good life" With that Pedri turned around and walked outside of her house when almost inside his car he heard her yell his name out

"Pedro!" He looked at her "I'm sorry"

Pedri joined his lips and nodded softly, lifting one of his hands giving her a wave before he got into the car and drove off to certain destination with a single intention.

...

"What do you mean she's not here?"

"She hasn't been here since like a week ago?" The older lady said with a smile "She said she'll come back tho"

"Do you know where she might be?"

"I don't, mijo. I'm so sorry" She looked at Pedro carefully "Is everything okay?"

"I need to know where she is so I can fix things between us" Pedro answered with a lump on his throat, his voice cracked a bit and he looked down at his shoes

The older lady sighed "I'm pretty sure you'll fix everything that may be happening with the two of you, son"

"I don't know, miss. I messed up really big this time"

"From what I've seen you love each other so much, I've never seen someone look at her in the way you do and vice versa, talking things out can be really helpfull instead of letting problems grow"

"The thing is I never let her talk and all I did was say things I shouldn't" Pedri shook his head

"You know? She's looking really pretty in those pictures, maybe you can start from there" A loud "Abuela" was heard as the older lady smiled looking over her shoulder

"What pictures?"

"Oh, you know... The ones you take, the ones you update, the ones people take, those pictures..." The woman was smiling softly "Don't let her go" And with that she left leaving Pedri sat in front of your doorstep

He was sat there analyzing the woman's words. Pictures? The ones you take? Update? People take? Pedri's mind ran 120km/h trying to guess what she meant of and after some minutes and what it felt a whole lifetime, he confused grabbed his phone and clicked on Instagram.

You liked it even more than Twitter or even Tiktok, Pedri remembered with a smile the moments where you would "fight", he; claiming Tiktok was better as you defended Instagram with your life

He typed your user with no reward, you blocked him. And it was no surprise at all but his heart still broke a little bit more when he couldn't find you.

He sighed closing his eyes and relying his head in your door, fighting the tears, it seemed like he only could do that in the past days, cry 'till he had no more tears inside of him, fight the urge to cry and feel his stomach fall to his feet. He hated feeling this way and he hated the way he must have put your through

He unlogged his session and went into his mother's, you couldn't have blocked her, could you? With shaky hands and blurry eyes he typed in your user and this time your profile was the first one to appear, the colorful circle around your picture meaning you had stories up.

While he was sad, you were in Venice with your friends and family, he recognized almost all of the faces in the pictures, all of them except one, a male's one.

That quickly catched his attention, that guy appeared in eight out of ten pictures and in all of them he was besides you. You even tagged him on one and Pedri's thumb directly went to his account.

One of the most recent post of the guy said: "I hate the fact that when I met my soulmate she had boiling coffee burns on her but I certainly don't hate the fact I got to meet you, baby!"

Pedri's stomach flipped, seeing your answers of "♥️🥰" made his head turn everywhere, in an instant he got up and headed towards the elevator in his mind only three things. His passport, Venice and you.

Due to some storms in Spain, he couldn't get out that same day and neither the next day, it was day three when he got into the plane and one day after he was in the same residence as you were.

He saw your brother and followed him, he felt like being on Matrix, he was making sure no one saw or heard him, that was until he stumbled on a vanity table and knocked half of the things that were in there

"What was that?" He heard and that's when he ran, the quitness and calm forgotten as he was desperate to find you. He took a right turn colliding with a female chest after a few seconds

"Joder, lo siento mucho" (Fuck, I'm so sorry) He said inmediately

"Pedro?" You said shocked as he also stood there impressed. You looked even more beautiful than always. Your tanned skin, your red cheeks and your Y/H color making you look perfect. "Pero, ¿Qué haces aqui? (but, what are you doing here)

"Por ti. I came here for you, I want to talk to you"

"We don't have anything to talk, in fact, you don't even have to come here, you don't have a reason to travel all the way from Barcelona to Venice"

"I did, I do. My reason is you and you'll always be. I fucked up, yeah? I get that" Pedri shakes his head "You were right" He opens his mouth but closes it "You were right all this time and I'm sorry I couldn't see it through, I'm sorry I did not take your words, I'm sorry I just kinda left and pushed your feelings aside, you deserve more, you deserve better but I can be better, I can be what you want, need and more if you want me to"

You started shaking your head, pushing him back from his chest when he tried to get closer to you.

"Pedri por favor, aquí no" (Pedri please, not here) "Pedri, stop. We don't have anything to say"

"Y/N, bonita, te lo suplico-" (I beg you-)

"Vamos al cuarto, ¿si? We can talk about whatever you want and then you leave" (Let's go to my room, yeah?)

"I don't want to leave without you"

You looked into his big brown eyes as he looked into your (Eye color) ones for a good while, you sighed before breaking eye contact

"But you have to" You said nodding slowly, Pedri shook his head

"Por favor" (Please) He whispered

"This way" You turned around walking away while Pedri watched your every move

You called the elevator and entered when it came, you turned to Pedri

"You wanna talk or not?"

Pedri nodded and walked towards it, he turned his head to look at you

"Do I have something on my face?" He hummed for a few seconds before answering

"You're beautiful" He ignored your words as you looked up at him

"Please, stop that"

"I-" He got cut off by the elevator doors opening

"This way" You said walking off as he only could follow you.

You stopped walking when you got to the door 408, with the key you opened it and then stepped inside letting the door open for him to come in as well.

You took a seat in the couch and patted the spot next to you, he took it and you both were silent.

"So... ¿Vamos a hacernos compañía o vas a decir lo que sea que quieres decir?" (Are we going to be each others company for now or you are going to speak whatever you want to say?)

"I'm sorry" He began "I fucked up. I should've listened to you and put Victoria a stop, I should've been more careful with you and your feelings, not passing through them and ignore them. I believe you, I always did and I always will do but it seemed so unreal that what I thought was my best friend, could do such a things, hurt the one I love and the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, when her whole life she was protecting me and supporting me through everything"

"If my family wasn't there, she was. If my family didn't have an advice, she had. And for you to just say she did this and said this was a whole different thing from what I knew from her that I just couldn't believe it. But it was truth. And I'm sorry once more"

"Y/N, I'll do anything for us, I'm not giving up, we're so good together, I love you so much and if only I could turn back in time and do everything right I would but I can't, however, I'm here to mend things, I'm not expecting you to forgive me and that's it. I'll earn that forgiveness, I'll protect us and I'll be better for you if you let me, please. I love you, I want you and I need you"

"It's not easy as you made it sound, Pedri"

"Pedro" You shook your head

"That's something only family and close friends can call you, right?"

"Don't do this, please"

"But you did it first" You said pushing your lips together. Those were the exact same words he had told you the night you left "You really hurted me and you just can't change that. Please, I think it's best if we let this go" You looked into his brown eyes as he was shaking his head "For both of our own goods"

"Not having you in my life it's not good for me"

"Maybe not but it's the correct thing to do" You said "I just can't trust you anymore, no matter what you do. You told me I wasn't the same girl you fell in love with, that says enough"

"But it's not true, I said it in the heat of the moment! You are still the same girl I fell in love with and you're still the same girl I want to do my life with"

You stood in silence for a few moments before you stood up "I'm not that girl anymore, Pedri. Someone else might be"

"Y/N-" He stood up from the couch as well

"It's done" Your voice cracked

"Does he treat you good?"

"He does" You said simply nodding "He's-" You let out a laugh

"Does he likes you?" You nod

"He does" You remembered that night at your apartment, that same night he asked you to go to Venice with him and your family to get your mind out of your ex.

"You like him?"

You stood in silence "He's handsome and nice. He knows I'm healing and he knows I have feeling for someone else but that's not stopping him"

"I won't stop either"

"You should tho"

"I love you and I know I messed up but I can mend it, anything you want, think or say, I'll do it. I'll cross world wonders for you, oceans, vegetation, deserts, anything"

"You can't. Not this time" Both of you were crying now not caring about the other seeing you "I was hurt by every action and word you said, I reached the top and while I know you messed up, you could've prevented it and simply start acting like you should have but you didn't. And I can't handle that"

"Please" You said after a few minutes "I think it's time for you to go" You said walking away

He couldn't watch you walk away once more so he did what he had been wanting to do. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, in a hug.

"No"

"Let me go"

"No"

"Let me go"

"No" His grip got tighter on you as you were fighting and at the same time, enjoying being in your exlover's arms again.

His arms were your safe space and laying your head on his chest brought you peace but now all it brought back was hurt and pain.

Hurt and pain from the situation you were going through

"Pedro, please, let me go"

"I don't want you to leave me"

"I didn't left because I wanted to" Silence flowed in between the two of you as Pedri was crying into your neck "I did because you asked me to, you made me leave, you pushed me away when all I wanted and needed was you, to stay by your side and defend our relationship" You took a breath "None of that happened and now that I'm recovering from everything, I want you to leave, I want you to go away because I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me and just throws everything out of the window without listening first" You said with closed eyes and tears running down, he chocked on a sob

"I'm sorry" He cried

"I am too" You said kissing his cheek several times, your lips were salty both by yours and his. You breathed in his scent once more and allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him "Te quiero mucho and you are the prettiest love I've ever had, it's truly a sadness it went this way but I wish you the best, Pedro González" You kissed his cheek and with one of your hands carressed his face "Y muchas gracias for everything" He shook his head softly, his head relying on your palm

"Te amo and I always will" He said crying, kissing your neck, ear, cheek, nose "I'm sorry"

You were about to reply when two knocks came in and then someone entered

"Y/N, cariño. We are going to be late for the trip, weren't you so excited to see Venice's bea-Oh! Am I interrupting something?" You pulled away from Pedri shaking your head

"Para nada, Mason" (Not at all) You smiled softly drying your tears but these still fell "We're good"

Mason, the guy, turned around to look at Pedri who nodded looking down at the floor "I better leave" He whispered

"Bye Pedri" He turned to look at you "Nos vemos" (See you)

"Yeah, see you Y/N" He smiled softly, his world was collapsing but there was no way for him to stop it, it was too late. "Take care of her, hermano" Pedri said looking at Mason who nodded softly looking at you with a smile

"Will do" Pedri noticed the look on Mason's face and that's all it took for Pedri to know he was going to keep his word.

And with heavy and broken heart, he left the hotel. All the luck his friends wished for him and all the praying he did, were not enough. His world is and will not be the same without your presence, your kindness, your laughter, your smile and your love in it, he hated himself for what he had done but there was nothing he could do now more than respect your decision and learn how to copy with his mistake for the rest of his life.

You were always right. He let you go. And now you were okay with it but he wasn't.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela @pedrileclerc @shineforeversf9 @shessthunderstoms @f4iryjjosh @judespoision @notsosurehritika @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris

#pedri x reader #pedri gonzález x reader #fc barcelona #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri angst #pedri gonzález angst #pedri icons #pedri gonzález icons #football players imagines

361 notes · View notes