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seraphdreams · 7 months

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"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"TO SEE WHAT YOUR INSIDES LOOK LIKE." | GHOSTFACE!ARMIN ARLERT.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 4.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader, smut, modern au, mentions of murder / death / blood, fingering, armin’s a creep, symbolism, noncon/dubcon, insanity, manipulation, monomania, creampie, knives, stalking. mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. armin’s worked hard to build up his perfect life, and he certainly wasn’t expecting for someone to rip that from under him. he’s obsessed — with a life that isn’t his.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! we are sooo back n in full swing for kinktober this year !! i’ll drop my masterlist here for all the prettie dolls to check out … please show this some love by reblogging / sharing, it’ll mean the absolute world 2 me !! kk, luv ya, bye ♡

Armin Arlert. Age 23. Graduated from Shiganshina University.

Armin Arlert, starting his new life under a freshly installed roof that rivaled his dorm of the past four years and provided him with much needed privacy. Armin Arlert, with a degree in humanitarian affairs accompanied with a promising future ahead, it’s the life he deserved after the turbulent destruction that was his tragic past. He could start over now in high hopes of making a name for himself in this unfamiliar city. Nothing could stop him, or the unperturbed spout of elation percolating within.

Aside from optimism, though, he remained undoubtedly sure that the life he had curated for himself was one that no other could outclass. He was smart — spent his days in libraries, in his study room, reading about anything that satiated his appetite for enlightenment, and be that as it may, he wasn’t looking for a lover. His solace brought him far better pleasure than any person could possibly imagine.

He’d work, research, and then work some more, day in and day out. And the day of your meeting was no different.

He had decided to utilize the time he carved out of his restless schedule for a much needed re-read of his favorite book. Moments like these were significant to Armin; the pungent aroma of freshly brewed tea in his mug, luminescence dim in the apartment, and a faint timbre of violins that spilled from his speaker.

Moments like these were when he couldn’t keep track of how many hours had passed him by as he flipped page by page into whatever universe his books had drawn him into.

Rested against the kitchen counter with his novel in one hand and retrieving a sip from his beverage in the other, his eyes scanned the piece of literature. Every once and awhile, he’d shift his weight from his left hip to the right, or opt to sit on the cozy loveseat in his study. All without withdrawing his attention from his book.

Glasses low on the bridge of his nose, he gently pushed them up — Then it came. The sonority of his doorbell, jostling him out of his serene thoughts and the inquisitiveness that flowed through his veins soon after, urged his body to tread to the front door in search of the cause.

As his footfall led him closer to the handle of the door, he could make out a silhouette, seemingly of a woman. All inquisitions of who could be at his doorstep were fulfilled once he opened it and you stood, with a bright smile on your face.

Armin’s angelic features hidden underneath a veil of golden blond tresses accentuated his soft, azure-hued eyes. His face was one of few that aided you in comfort just upon first glance, which chased away the unease of the possibility that he could’ve been ill-tempered.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! I moved in next door,” You pointed your thumb in the direction beside you as if to signal which side of the building you’d be occupying. “I just thought I'd introduce myself,”

He matched your syrupy sweet beam with one of his own, the corners of his eyes turning upward in tandem as if they were smiling too. He held the door open slightly wider to catch a better glimpse of you. From your attire, he could discern that you weren’t much of a modest girl, but it’d be wrong of him to idly make assumptions. Especially when his choice of dress during the lax hours of the day were a white button-up, cashmere cardigan thrown atop, with a pair of tan slacks.

“Y/N?” He repeated, in a manner to affirm that he had heard correctly. “I’m Armin. It’s nice to meet you,”

He would’ve held his hand out for yours had it not been engaged by his book. You weren’t trying to pry, yet the cover of the story was lucid in your mind once you took notice. “Berenice? The Edgar Allan Poe novel?”

His eyes trailed to where your manicured nail was pointed. The rosy flush of his cheeks deepened while he rubbed away the discomfiture stirring at the back of his neck. Once again, he had mindlessly brought his book with him wherever he strode.

“Y-Yeah, It’s my favorite. Have you read it?”

“A few times,” You hummed, meeting his sheepish gaze. “It’s so jarring, right?”

Armin skimmed over your face before allowing himself to speak. “But there’s beauty in the madness,” His words trolled over in a more weighty tone than he had intended, an apologetic smile on his face once he caught wind.

“Or at least that’s how i interpret it,”

His outward timidity roused an endearing chuckle from you. “I truly don’t mean to bother you, though. If you need anything I'm on your right!” You retort with a vague inclination of haste.

Truth be told, Armin’s interest in you piqued with the mention of the Poe story. “Oh, you’re not a bother-”

His vocables fell short against your own when you waved him goodbye, and he mirrored your actions with cordiality in his eyes.

Maybe she’s just busy.

—

Ever since Armin’s first encounter with you, he had found himself taking a rather atypical interest in the relations of you. The first bout of instances being regular events of curiosity where he’d watch as the moving company aided you in getting your belongings settled; hauling in furniture and appliances, all while Armin remained under the guise of checking his mailbox. Over a short span of time, though, he found himself increasingly knowledgeable in the subject that was you.

You showered at 8:00pm. You ate dinner at 7:00pm. The alarm settled on your desk, a few feet beyond your bed would go off at 6:00am sharp, and he’d be up at that same dawning hour to anticipate your departure to work.

He knew these things. Of course, he did.

He memorized all of your schedules to calculate what you’d be doing throughout the day, and where.

His own work was slow for him during those days, and books didn’t seem to capture that spark of exhilaration like you did. For once, he felt enthralled by each day granting him an opportunity to analyze you further.

On another day, he’d built up enough confidence to observe you as you came home from work, once more, under the false assumption that he’d been checking his mail.

“Good afternoon.”

Armin’s voice registered within your being quickly, startling you out of your fast-paced strut to your door. “Oh, good afternoon!” Your footfall faltered until you reached a close. “Armin, was it?”

Over Armin’s time of stalking- no, studying you, he’d come to realize just how ethereal you were. It was as if the deities above handmade every feature on your face, curve of your body, lilt in your voice with the intention of making you one of their own — an angel.

He found you charming.

With a nod of his head, he braced himself to inch toward you. Not proximal enough to cause you discomfort, he wouldn’t want that, yet enough to signal his unwavering immersion. “Did you just come from work?”

It was otiose of him to ask the question seeing as he undeniably knew the answer. Judging from your business attire and pencil skirt just a little too short for any other establishment’s dress standards, he had assumed you worked a kushy job at an office firm. You evidently earned a heap of money, with him recalling the numerous occasions you’d come home with luxury shopping bags hanging off your arms, tied in with the fact that the suites he inhabited weren't exactly affordable for the average person.

You responded hospitably to his question, that same lovely smile poured over your features and seeping into his personage. “Mhm, and what about you? Your work?”

He was surprised at your need to pull the conversation along further, it was as if you were succoring to curate his plans, as if you could read his mind and pick out from a haystack that you were his only interest, you were his source of bliss. A serendipitous moment, indeed. He straightened himself up, clearing his throat. “Me? Oh, well I just help out at charities and organizations from time to time,”

He’d be a fool to deny the set of wide eyes that were fixated upon his figure.

“For real? You must be a really good person then.” You responded with your hands clasped together and held against your chest, pupils of your eyes glittered in a sense of unshakable admiration.

As the conversation went on, you had begun to synonimize your neighbor with the fresh, and comforting feeling of congeniality. It helped that he was easy to converse with, seeming as he’d always been listening while keeping eye contact and rewiring his queries in a way that deemed you the main focus, and he, a vessel for your words to absorb within.

For Armin, he enjoyed getting to know you. You were perfect, in all the best ways.

And soon enough, through an exhausting series of prying inquiries, he’d piece together that your perfection wasn’t hulled along by determination or strong will, but by God’s good grace. He’d come to register that you didn’t have to struggle like he did to reach the triumphant point in life for which he stood. You were born that way, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and just the right kiss-ass people in your life to keep you that way. A spoiled fucking brat.

What had been the rationale behind his suffering? The years in which he’d been bullied repeatedly in public schools, had acquaintances that had only cared about him for their personal gain, and parents so utterly vapid that they’d give up their only child if it meant they could continue working towards an unattainable goal?

Fueled by a sense of jealousy, he waned your nepotism a hindrance. You were merely a telescope that he wanted so badly to see into.

For Armin was obsessed with a life that wasn’t his.

Meticulously, he had spent his time after that hidden away within his flat. Armin didn’t care to know anything more about you, he didn’t care to see your face, and he surely didn’t care for you.

When he stumbled across an unkempt, unpacked box in his room with the label of “Uni 2019,” written on the side in thick, inky letters, his concern led him to relive those memories upon removing the cardboard lid.

In it, there were polaroid photos, compact trophies he’d won from participating in school events, courtesy of his STEM minor, and a dark piece of fabric that caught his eye more than anything.

He recalled his first year of college where his two closest friends, Eren and Mikasa, dragged him out of their stuffy shared dorm and onto one of the first parties held by the school’s fraternity house during the fall semester.

“Armin, you look ridiculous,”

Mikasa said as she stomped away in her leather boots, leading the way for the two men accompanying her to follow her off-campus.

She was dressed in homage to Misa Amane from her favorite anime, although the style of dress aided no significance since it was hauntingly similar to her everyday wardrobe.

Eren was intended to show up as “Light” but he insisted on wearing something he deemed appealing, his plan was to get initiated by the end of the night, anyhow. He wore a deep black cloak, dark ripped jeans and had his hair tied aimlessly into his warped perception of a bun, with the mask of a ghost facing sideways on his head to allow for him to see.

Ghostface. Scream (1996).

Armin allowed himself to be pulled away by the Ackerman, his rebuttal falling on deaf ears. “You didn’t give me enough time, Mika. This is all I could come up with.” Armin’s poor excuse for a costume was tissue paper wrapped around his frame in stereotypical mummy fashion, a classic of all classics.

Though, that night had concluded like any other gathering involving college-aged students, the trio having woken up to hangovers and bad decisions.

Armin stared at the contents of the box a while longer before taking the cloak out and trying it on for size. Obviously, it was meant for a taller person, but regardless, the wheels in his head gradually spun.

He took it off after careful observation when the sensation of juvenility filled his veins. He wasn’t fond of the costume rousing the impression that he was an illegitimate killer — He knew more than he let on, and his passion for the grotesqueries scribed in his books further proved that.

Concurrently, you had been pondering the reason for Armin’s disappearance. After your last conversation with him, he’d stopped formulating ways to talk to you and seemed to never leave his suite, and your heart yearned for his presence once the feeling truly settled in.

You had been swayed by his charm.

His dulcet tone of voice, the intriguing quirks that seemed to hang off of him like leaves to a tree; You missed the way he cared for you, through mundane matters and the like.

Night had fallen, the warm, ochre hues of the day meshing in perfect balance with deep purple tones that signified time’s passing. You were settling into bed, just about ready to fall into slumber when you heard light tapping at your door.

Only for a second did the thought of who could possibly be up this late float through your mind.

Your soles kissed the floor when you made your way to the front door. And once you finally opened it, the sight of your worst fear was drawn to life — The deviant sight of the unknown, with what seemed to look like a kitchen knife in its right hand.

Quickly, without time to react, you attempted to slam the door shut with the force of your shoulder but the action proved futile when the aggressor’s strength pushed back against the wood, sending you stumbling backwards and vulnerable to any attack.

Heavy footsteps creeped eerily towards you out of something from a horror film. Your worst mistake was turning your back, scrambling for a way to retrieve your phone, or even a weapon.

“Help! He-”

The stranger was more agile than you had assumed, easily capturing you with one arm around your waist and its hand cupped against your mouth. You couldn’t shake the terror growing within you as hot tears seemed to spill down your cheeks and your heartbeat so intense, you were sure that it’d had been noticeable.

Your body soft in the assaulter’s touch, they embraced your body taut. The sensation was suffocating, your eyes squeezed shut to further distance yourself from the situation at hand, even if it was only a mental trick.

You resided in a relatively safe area, so why were you in this situation? What cruel joke were you the target of?

The grip on your body loosened ever so slightly, yet you were still fixed in place by the attacker’s opposite hand. While your body was immobilized, you felt the lingering of metal lightly drag against your abdomen to find itself settled just underneath the band of your lace pajamas.

Just moments prior, you had completed your elaborate nightly routine consisting of a glass of wine, face mask, and a warm bath. You also found it fitting to change into one of your newer pajama sets — Thin, baby pink, lace bralette with matching shorts that called for forgoing the need for panties.

All you wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.

“It’d be so beautiful if you died right here in my arms,” Your assailant spoke.

Through your ears, his voice was familiar. A tone so soft, you refused to believe the possibility of who it’s owner could be.

His hand over your mouth was hesitant to situate itself elsewhere in wariness of how you’d react. He was aware of the power behind a blood-curdling scream. The neighbors in this area were nosy. He would know.

He let out a sigh. “But you look really pretty tonight. I wouldn’t want to get blood on you,” His knife trailed further into your shorts, the edge cutting out a hole in the fabric at the seat of the garment.

“Did you do all this for me?”

You winced when the sonority of cloth ripping resonated through your ears. The blade felt dangerously close, running along your body as if to taunt you. That had to be the case; You were in the perfect position to be harmed, so why hadn’t your attacker done so? With your body stricken from fear, his job was easy. Was it not?

The hand over your mouth moved to caress your face and you gasped heavily for the air you were denied.

“W-What do you want?” Your voice echoed shakily throughout the room, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. His knife inched upward to your sternum, and slowly dragged itself back down to your abdomen as he spoke.

“To see what your insides look like.”

For a split second, his hold on you seemed to diminish, granting you the perfect opportunity to run. Yet, your legs felt frail as if there were weights tied to your ankles. The assailant quickly repositioned himself in front of you, his head tilting slightly while he continued his up and down ministrations with the edge of the blade gingerly pressed against your flesh. Not forceful enough to draw blood.

“But maybe now, I want to feel your insides,” His steps crept closer, and instinctively you tried to create as much distance as possible by stepping back. It proved useless when your back hit the cold surface of the door, his face mere centimeters from yours.

Your breath hitched as you found comfort in the presence of the door, leaning against it as if it’d keep you from harm’s reach. You fidgeted, fumbling to grasp at the handle that’d grant you escape. The masked man took notice, hovering over your frame to keep you from trying anything.

“Please- -” Your plea fell in the form of a choked up whimper, just the sound he wanted to hear.

More uncomfortable ripping was sounded when his blade etched a perfect cut in your shorts, leaving your bare cunt out on display for his eyes to see. “Don’t be shy, pretty. I’m sure lots of guys have seen you like this. Am I right?”

Crudeness started to sink in as your face morphed into a contradictory pout. He took your expression for a no and chuckled genuinely, albeit louder than his previous tone. “No? Does this make me the first?” His eyes scanned your lower half once more, then flit back to meet your fear-blown orbs.

“I’d really love to be your first,”

Having grown confident enough to be sure that you wouldn’t try to break free, he dropped the knife to the side, metal clamorously clinking against hardwood flooring while he used his free hand to lift your right leg over the juncture of his elbow. He carefully slotted his middle and ring fingers into your hole, shallowly pumping. Your legs threatened to close with what you couldn’t make of embarrassment or denial.

Your mind felt cloudy once your body gave up its immobility and allowed pleasure to course through your veins, heat rushing to your core with every pump of his fingers. He took notice of the way your expression hastily contorted into one of pure pleasure, eyebrows knit together and your mouth slightly agape, eliciting quiet moans to tumble past.

It was a whorish sight, indeed. A circumstance you couldn’t control with your death at the forefront, yet it was terrifyingly easy to succumb to the euphoric sensation building up within you. The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit, and from just the light circling motions in tandem with his fingers, you felt yourself floating to the cusp of release.

“F-Fuck- -“ you rasped. Your hand reached out for his wrist to push him away but the attempt was futile and in turn, he sped up his ministrations.

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth. You’re making me lose interest.” He coyly teased.

He was thankful you couldn’t see how flushed his face appeared under the mask. The sight of you spread open for him was too much to bear, he could cum in that moment without ever feeling your gummy walls wrapped around his painstakingly hard cock.

Just before you were about to hit your orgasm, he pulled his fingers away. An agitated groan rumbled from your throat, eyes finally opening to the sight of the man before you, removing his mask and unveiling his true identity.

Something within you didn’t want to admit what you had seen.

From the golden strands of hair that shimmered against the moonlight to his cyan-hued orbs tinted dark with madness. It was Armin, but it wasn’t Armin.

“M-Min.. You —“ The words failed to leave your mouth in a coherent string of sentences. It couldn’t have been your neighbor, not Armin. He was far too delicate, too feeble to carry out a task like this.

He kept unwavering eye contact with you, your pupils shaking from shock. “Hm? Couldn’t see a thing with this mask on,” His response was that of nonchalance, his hand coming to caress your tear-stained cheeks.

“You’re much prettier behind the mesh.”

He pulled down the zipper of his slacks along with the garment itself and his briefs, just enough so that his cock was freed. You didn’t want to look, but you did. You notice how bulbous the head was, glowing a bright pink while the rest of it was pretty girthy as well. It bobbed under its weight, the strings of precum leaking onto your inner thighs as he lined it up with your entrance.

“Why would y—“

Just before you could get the vocables out, he pushed his entire length inside of you, head tilted back and adam’s apple bouncing with each groan he let out. You felt as though you were being split open by how fat his cock was, how it glided effortlessly in and out of your heat.

His pace was tauntingly slow as if he’d shoot his load prematurely. Once he gradually thrusted more vigorously though, you found it hard to keep whimpers at bay. Each push in felt deeper than the last, the wind within your system struggling to keep you afloat. You reached for something to hold onto, scrambling for Armin’s shoulders in the end. Your nails dug deep at the lean muscles of his back, creating raw, catlike scratches on the flesh.

The pain was enough to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t the pain, but the sight of you so desperate for him — So desperate for your killer.

How pathetic.

He leaned himself upward to meet your gaze again, that of something from a horror movie, his gaze was darker than before, strung together by a serious expression. “Kiss me.”

You almost didn’t hear him as your impending orgasm was your only focus. When you took too long to respond, he glanced back at the knife settled just underneath his foot, in a manner to remind you of the real dangers he was capable of.

With the slightest inclination of hesitancy, your lips met his. Contrary to his actions, his kisses were soft, sloppy, and hungry, as if he were craving you. He hooked his arms beneath your knees to hoist you up and against him.

Deeper. You whimpered into his kisses wondering how his cock fucked into you deeper. He slammed your body down onto his length, using your body like it was a toy. You pulled away from the kiss, heaving for air as your head fell upon his shoulder. “Gonna cum, ‘m so close!” Your words slurred, and before you knew it, your essence came in waves, each aftershock more jolting than the last.

He continued pounding into you, shifting his position to hold you up against the wall. Your pleasure reverberated in the form of an inaudible cry while you allowed for the bullying of his cock in your cunt. It was evident to you that he was close from the way his features were etched in pure ecstasy.

Armin looked pretty like that — Wisps of tawny bangs messily splayed across his forehead from perspiration and a light tinge of scarlet dusted across his nose and cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. His soft, rosy lips were slickened with the mixture of your wet kiss and his.

“Oh, God-”

The guttural groan he let out had your walls clamping down taut around him. “Cum for me again—Shit! Say my name,”

The stamina he retained came as unexpected to you, your overstimulated heat trying to find pleasure in the way it’s being battered up. He spoke again, this time with a docile lilt in his tone.

“Tell me you’re mine, Y/N. I wanna be yours.”

You didn’t want to. You were beyond opposed to feeding into his hedonistic delusions, especially in the impuissant state that you were in. Yet, you couldn’t stop the affirmations from flowing once another orgasmic high coiled up in your core.

“Armin! ‘M yours! All yours,”

Just as soon as your words circulated through his mind, he felt his balls tighten, his thrusts faltering in potency as he reached closer to his high.

In his mind, it was profoundly amorous that you both had hit euphoria simultaneously, warm ropes of his sticky seed painting your walls while he shallowly jettisoned every last drop. Your womb was the goal, and he had scored.

He was tentative to pull out, wanting to relish in the warmth of your core for as long as he possibly could but he knew the idea wouldn’t be feasible. “You’re so good. I mean, you listen so well,”

He delicately placed you back on your feet, your body lax in his hold. “Thank you!” He beamed, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

“Thank you for what?” You responded, your eyes searching for anything else to focus on as you gained enough strength to separate yourself from him, even if it was just a few inches.

“You helped me,”

You couldn’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his mouth nor his need to be a hair's breadth away from you at all times.

“You helped me realize I never wanted to hurt you,” His hands found their place at your waist, softly running along the curve. “I just wanted to be inside you.”

“No, you wanted to kill me.” You spoke in a more conflicted tone, wondering if the gears in his head were turning at all. He chuckled, creating a few inches of distance between the two of you.

“I mean, I did at first. I was jealous, Y/N,” His voice sounded like that of a beg. “You have such a perfect life and I want it — I want to be in it.”

You couldn’t bear to listen to anymore of his twisted thoughts, feeling the heavy coat of uncomfortability weighing your shoulders down. “Armin, you’re crazy.”

“I love you, Y/N. Let me into your life, please?”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands furthering south until they halted at the small of your back.

“I won’t hurt you,”

“I love you.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — @valentinevampyr @oneofthesevensins @iamtrashgod @iconicbabii @inusdoll @kloesklarity @bakuhoe-3 @antistellxr

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girlbloggerbby · 10 months

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Big sister advices

Install an app to monitor your menstrual cycle, you will never be taken by surprise again, thank me later

Don't save that nice outfit for a special occasion, it will never come and you will have missed the chance to be hot in that outfit because you thought it was too much, be extra everytime you can

Stretch every single day, I swear it improves everything, posture, mood, health, it's just perfect

This one is for the younger ones, stop lying to your friends now to look cool because in the future you will become a compulsive liar and that's not cute

Avoid using peel off masks, they fuck up your skin's protective barrier and will only make you have more blackheads

If you have a friend who only knows how to gossip about others with you, know that nothing prevents they from saying bad things about you too

Exfoliate your skin before shaving and apply moisturizer or oil to your skin afterwards = bye bye strawberry legs

" 'He has to accept me as I am!' says the nice girl. To accept? No way. Wake up. He has to be crazy about you. Acceptance has nothing to do with it. He accepts a doormat. But he wants the enchanted princess. If you want acceptance, look for self-help groups."

Invest in your vocabulary babe, people who speak well attract more people and opportunities

Never lower your expectations and boundaries for no one, and i mean, no one. respect yourself

Try pomodoro method of study, this helps a lot

Never and ever use lemon, baking soda or alcohol on your face please

Pretty girls don't get into silly drama, they ignore e continue their lives

Thats it for the day, i wish someone told me that before so im here passing it on to someone, hope i was helpful, i luv ya girls🫀

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sharkorok · 10 months

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all eyes on you (enhypen)

or the moments that make everyone think you’re dating

cw/genre: idol!reader, reader doesnt have specified gender but implied to be a female, fluff, so cute bye, secret relationships, humor, u have delulu fans

requested: naurrr

a/n: ehe thx for 100 followers :) I hope my writing makes u happy because knowing people read my works makes me super duper happy! luv uuuu

•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-at an awards show your outfits were matching, like very obviously matching

-matching bracelets, you had one on your left wrist and he had one on the right, the colors matched each other, same style and aesthetic…

-he gets v nervous but also you were in some dating rumors with another idol so…he wouldn’t be mad if he was next tbh….BUT THEN UR GROUP WAS ASSIGNED NEXT TO HIM??

-dawg was sweating the whole time trying not to admire you and how cute you two looked

-but no every one of those “enhypen mma reaction” or “heeseung reaction focus” showed him very clearly staring at you 😭, twt had a field day with you two

-he can’t help it, you looked so good and how can he keep his eyes off his lovely s/o when they’re all dressed up + matching?? seriously his management was insane for putting him so close to you

-and when all groups were leaving he was seen literally sprinting to be closer to you

-ya dispatch didn’t even need to confirm anything after that awards show

the others r below!

jay

-during a live he got his guitar out and started playing all your favorite songs

-and this was literally a day after you named your favorite songs

-then to make it worse he was like “yeah these are y/n’s favorite songs don’t they have good music taste?” and then he kept talking about you and staff was sweating while watching istg

-the way he talked about you tho,,he either had a massive crush on you or you two were dating

-the ship edits the next day were insane honestly some of your fans need to get into the editing business because you genuinely believed a photo of him holding your waist was taken at inkigayo

-he doesn’t even try to hide how much he likes you istg, he goes out of his way to talk to you at awards shows and always films challenges with you, he gives the shippers so much content

-then another time jay cooked your favorite food in a vlog and specifically said it was your favorite food, name dropping and everything

-literally no one is surprised that you two are confirmed dating after a while.

jake

-accidentally went on live while talking about you

-he fully believed he closed out of the app when he was talking to jay and saying stuff like, “I’m really excited to see her at the performance, I hope we have time to hang out…” and then he hears notifications and sees that he was streaming and he nearly faints

-plays it off like he fully intended for everyone to hear that and continues like he planned on going live

-he’s also trying to hide the way his eyes flickered up to your rapid texts being like, “JAKE WHY ARE WE TRENDING ON TWITTER??”

-jay is behind the camera just trying not to laugh becuz how do you even recover from this one, literally all the comments are talking about you and him

-“y/n…? yeah ahahah I know her uh huh mhm anyways moving on” and his horrible deflecting skills are making it even more obvious

-and when you go on live?? oh u bet the comments are “did you see jake’s recent live?? are u cheating on us y/n?”

-u desperately distract by spoiling your comeback but there’s already 14k Tik toks analyzing every interaction you had with Jake and why you two are cosmically intertwined

sunghoon

-describes you to a T when asked about his ideal type

-he meant to just mention the broad details but he gets excited talking about u ok :(

-“yeah a good heart and around (your exact height), with (the hex code of your eye color) eyes, born on (your birthday), hobbies include (every single one of your hobbies) and also…(literally all the information under your kprofiles page)”

-ur fans catch on and are like “isn’t this literally y/n” and he’s like “omg nooo coincidence”

-it is NOT a coincidence bro he was fully thinking of you and only you during that interview

-anyways you don’t help the situation by describing him too when asked about your ideal type, but ur at least a tad less obvious 😭

-“yea I love guys who ice skate and stuff”

-u two definitely get scolded by management

sunoo

-sometimes he forgets to care about keeping things secret (like that lipton tea thing he did)

-so he’s showing fans his camera roll and he shows selfies you never posted before…in his camera roll…never before seen by anyone but him and you to the camera and is like

-“y/n’s visual is so perfect, right?”

-and yeah duh ur stunning and gorgeous but fans are distracted by your beauty for a second before being like “hm…how did he get those selfies and why r they in his camera roll”

-ur fans r thankful for the content tho so he kinda did everyone a favor

-but it’s a LITTLE suspicious…but neither of you address anything so it just festers a little

-until you two do a tik tok challenge together and he captions it with a heart emoji like oh my god 😭

-you’re not innocent either when you said “sunoo’s visual is so amazing” like both of you get some media training I beg

-everyone loves how obviously whipped you two are for each other tho :,)

jungwon

-accidentally exposes your polaroid in his phone case

-thankfully he has photos of his members and maeum but why were you there??

-he completely ignores it tbh he shows the photos to the camera and is like “these r the polaroids in my phone case. anyways.” n he’s playing it cool but internally he’s PANICKING

-“hopefully they didn’t see the heart I drew on the Polaroid,” he thinks foolishly

-we did.

-so you try to do some damage control on your own live when asked about why he has ur photo in his phone and ur like “oh we’re really close friends!!”

-n honestly that’s a good and healthy response because everyone has the right to their platonic relationships

-but jungwon’s heart he drew on your Polaroid was just a little bit tooooo suspicious…anyways this leads to fans over-analyzing every single interaction to the point you two weren’t allowed to be seen in a ten foot proximity at events for a while

-but at least it reminded jungwon to be more careful lolol

niki

-accidentally rizzes you up on live television

-you’re an mc for smth and you’re interviewing enhypen and you’re like, “oooh, some burning questions, what is your ideal type?”

-and Niki, with no hesitation fully goes, “you lol” and you see ur career flash before your eyes

-ur co mc is nervously laughing and niki realizes like oh wait we’re being broadcasted so he’s like “oh just kidding haha!!!” even though you two are making awkward eye contact while you’re mentally scolding him

-he’s so used to teasing and flirting with you in private so it’s a little hard to shake off in public

-anyways fans notice he’s looking at you a little too lovingly and being a little too genuine when he responded so it’s not long before you see ship edits on Twitter and tik tok

-doesn’t help when you answer the ideal type question with “someone who is playful and funny” thinking it was broad enough but ‘twas not <3

-he doesn’t really care too much but thought it was funny, even if he had to take a media training class again afterwards >:T

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions

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windtowee · 2 months

Note

another one perhaps? 😇 (youngest hashira hcs) i really adore the way u write darling u could perhaps become a professional writer and write some literature 🥰 (i was typing in a british accent btw) luv ya bye bye ‼️🔥💯

Youngest Hashira headcannons: The interactions with the Kamaboko squad

A/n: Thank you but I’m actually thinking of going into the medical field to help others with science 🥰

Tw! Cussing, mentions of fighting,

Platonic

Gender neutral! Tween! Reader

NOTE: Reader is 13/14 and part four of the youngest Hashira headcannons

There’s a mix of things going on

To summarize its pure chaos

Inosuke is always trying to fight you or beat you at something

Zenitsu is shaking in fear or rage cause there’s no in between

Tanjiro shows intense amounts of respect for you and he wants to know everything that you can teach him

And Nezuko, she just treats you like her younger sibling.

Most of the time Nezuko’s playing with your hair while Tanjiro is trying to get Zenitsu to stop screaming and Inosuke to stop trying to fight you

Inosuke gets his ass beat every time but he still insists that he can beat you

Zenitsu is also kinda jealous that someone younger than him is taking up a higher rank than him

Then he remembers all of the demons the Hashiras have to face then begs for your protection

Tanjiro and Nezuko… the sweet summer babies, they treat you like their own sibling

Always patting your head, giving you encouragement and just being caring older siblings in general

#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #platonic x reader #nezuko x reader #zenitsu x reader #inosuke x reader #tanjiro x reader #platonic

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spidybaby · 11 months

Text

Begin Again | Part Four

Summary: It's all about the hating, the loving and the healing... but in that order?

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: It's been a long time, but here it is. Love you all for being so patient and sweet with all the messages and anons asking me if I was okay and sending me love while I was sick 😭❤️ sorry if I didn’t answer, I wasn't that much on my phone but I'm thankful for all the messages and love you send me 😣💛

Dedicated to: @gaviandgrizisgirl because she motivate me to write and post this as quickly as possible. Luv you 💛✨️ (btw go read her work, is amazing, you'll love it 😀❤️)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

17:45 p.m.

"Déjame ayudarte con eso, " Elena says. As she picks up the straightener, she is as nervous as you are. "Estoy tan emocionada, yo te ayudarme a planear la boda. Ahhhh!" (Let me help you with that. I'm so excited, I'm helping you plan the wedding)

You smile at her, your words are out due to being nervous. You feel like throwing up but weren't.

You made a small talk about something she was promoting while she was straightening the last piece of hair. That was cut off by the baby monitor announcing that your baby was done with cocomelon.

"Ya, ya, ya voy, mi amor." (I'm coming, love)

You finish with the hair as your son begin crying for attention.

"Ay ya mijo, no te puedes entretener solo? Andamos ocupadas." Elena says, picking him. He stops crying, looking at her with a confused expression. "Ya ves? Todo bien. Hoy tenemos pijamada, usted se duerme en el lado izquierdo y yo el derecho." (Omg baby, can't you entertain yourself? We're busy. You see? Everything's fine. Today, we have a slumber party, you'll sleep on the left side and I'll sleep on the right one)

You laugh at her. She's so special to him.

"Vente, solo me haré algo natural de maquillaje." You say picking your products, barely any, some concealer, powder, blush, waterproof mascara (that's essential). (Come here, I'll just do some light makeup)

18:50 p.m.

"Bueno, ya quedó. Dejo todo ahí en la cocina y me voy corriendo antes que llegue." Fernando says, throwing some used napkins. He prepared some pasta, your favorite actually, and he helped Pedro pick some nice outfit for the night. (Okay, it's done. I'll leave everything in the kitchen, and I'm out before she arrives)

Pedro hugged his brother, thanking him for the help. He was nervous, and Fer knew it.

"Tranquilo chaval. Todo irá bien" Fer palms his back and walk to the door. "Pedro, me llamas mañana a primera hora para contarme como te fue, si?" (Relax, everything is going to be fine. Pedro, call me first thing in the morning and tell me everything.)

Pedro nods, nervous at the time, and at everything.

"Por cierto," he says. Before the door closes. Pedro looks confused at him, waiting for him to speak. "Te deje unos condones en el nochero." He winks and laughs, noticing his brother blushing like crazy. "Te quiero niño, adiós." (By the way, I left some condoms on your nightstand. Love you, kiddo, bye)

18:59 p.m.

"Bien, me voy," you say as you spray some perfume, his favorite as you recall. You were done with the feeding and ready to leave. "Adiós amorcito, mami te va a extrañar mucho." You kiss him several times on both cheeks. "Si te da problemas, en serio llámame, aun que no creo que despierte, si lo hace hay leche que recien me saqué en la nevera, solo calientala y dale eso." (Okay, I'm leaving. Goodbye, my love, mommy's going to miss you so much. If he gives you problems, please call me, even tho I don't think he wakes up. If he does, there's fresh pumped milk in the refrigerator. Just warm it up and feed him)

"Ay ya largate." Elena says, pushing you to the door. "Te deje unos condones en la bolsa, la de la izquiera, no quiero otra sorpresita" (Omg, just go. I put some condoms on your purse, left bag. I dont want another surprise)

"Qué?" You look at her confused.

"Shh, adiós mami." She says, making Polo wave his hand.

You shake your head, smiling at her.

But when you open your door, the one surprised is you.

"Mamá? " You open your eyes all the way, you didn't invite her, you didn't call her. Why was she there? "Qué haces acá?" (What are you doing here?)

"Nena, que guapa. Te traje una carbonara, tu favorita de tu restaurante favorito en Barcelona. Sé que la última vez que nos vimos no te portaste tan bien conmigo pero, hijos. Ya entenderas cuando Polito crezca." She says, pushing you to enter. (Baby, how pretty. I brought you some pasta carbonara, your favorite from your favorite restaurant in Barcelona. Even tho the last time we saw each other, you weren't so nice, but you know, kids. You'll get it when Polito grows up)

You scuff. You weren't nice? What about her? Saying how Pedro was going to take your son away. How you were going to go back crying to them for help.

"Mamá, voy de salida. Gracias por traer la pasta. Elena se la puede comer o te la puedes llevar." You say grabbing her by the arms just in time. She was about to grab Polo from Elena's arms. (Mom, I'm actually on my way out. Thanks for the pasta. Maybe Elena can eat it, or you can take it back)

You grabbed the pasta from her, leaving it on the little table beside the door.

"Pero si vas de salida, entonces déjame cuidar a mi nieto, nadie mejor que una mamá para cuidar de los bebés de su bebé." She tries to enter one more time. "Y/n, quítate." (But if you're on your way out, I can take care of my grand baby. Nobody like mommy to take care of her baby's baby. Y/n, get out of the way.)

"No."

"No?" She scuffs "acaso te volviste loca? Que te pasa? Tu no eres así, nunca me habías hablado así" she looks at you with this hurt expression, one you usually fell for, but not this time. (Are you out of your mind? What's wrong with you? You're not like that. You never spoke to me like that)

You grabbed your doorknob as you take some steps, making her step back. "Mamá, voy de salida y Elena va a cuidar a Polo, voy tarde. Adiós." (Mom, I'm on my way out, Elena is taking care of Polo. I'm already late, goodbye)

You kissed her cheek and walked to your car. You turned it on. She was still standing on the same place.

You picked up your phone, texting Elena to not let her in, no matter what.

You notice the time. Already 19:10

"Me cago en la." You say as you drive off your house.

19:16 p.m.

"Mierda" Pedro says, looking at his phone, you were not someone who was late to almost anything.

He calmed himself, thinking maybe is the traffic, maybe she went for gas, maybe she's nervous and driving slowly. Maybe there was some roadwork and she had to take another street.

His mind began to overthink against him. And just in time, the doorbell saves him from his own mind.

He runs to the front door and takes a look of himself in the mirror he has there. "Bien, como dijo Fer, todo estará bien," he say to himself. The walk to the door is a quick one. He takes a few breaths before opening. (Okay, like Fer said, everything is going to be fine)

When he opened the door, nothing prepared him for the view. Even though you didn't change much, there was something different. You looked more beautiful. The way your hair is done looks stunning. The way your smile is shining is like no other.

Not to say your body, you were slimmer than the last time, more here, less there but the same one he loves.

"Dios, estas preciosa," he says without thinking. "Perdón, hola." He shakes his head as you laugh. "Hola va primero, pasa por favor." (Gosh, you look beautiful. Sorry, hi. Hi, is it first)

"Hola, Pepi." You say walking inside. "Tu también te vez muy bien." You laugh. (You look amazing, too)

"Venga, vamos adentro." He closed the door. (C'mon, let's go inside)

He doesn't know if his actions are some muscle memory or if his brain is not coordinating the best. But when he extended his arm for you to take his hand like he used to, at first he didn't notice, but after a few seconds and your hesitation. He slowly pulled back.

But, before he could, and for his surprise, you did take his hand.

"Vamos." You say smiling at him. (Let's go)

The smile on his face is the biggest he ever had since the last time you were together.

That was something everyone noticed. His smile wasn't the same, his was always so into his mind.

"Tienes hambre? Fer me ayudo a preparar tu comida favorita." He says, guiding you to the kitchen. (Are you hungry? Fer helped me cook your favorite food)

You nod smiling, knowing how good that must taste.

Fernando was one of the best chefs you have ever known. He even opened his own restaurant. It was amazing, and he was so successful.

"Mucha. De hecho." You begin talking, but stop when you realize what you were about to say. (Yes, actually...)

Normally, your way of talking was mom on if someone asked you, "You hungry?" You would say,"Yes, breastfeeding makes me hungry." Which is what was about to happen.

"De hecho qué?" He asks, serving the pasta.

"De hecho, tu sabes, yo siempre tengo hambre." You laugh, hoping that was good enough. (Actually, you know, I'm always hungry)

He laughs, nodding "cuándo volviste?" He says, grabbing both plates. "Acá o en el comedor?" He asks you. (When did you come back? Here or at the table?)

"Acá esta bien, déjame ayudarte con eso." You say taking two cups and serving some water. (Here it's okay, let me help you with that)

He places the plates down, picks some forks and napkins.

"Queres vino? Tengo uno buenisimo que te va a encantar, o prefieres algún cóctel? Sé hacer unos ufff, Robert me enseñó." (Do you want some wine? I have a really good one, you'll love it. Or do you prefer a cocktail? I know how to make some, ufff, Robert taught me)

Normally, you used to drink wine or a cocktail when you had dinner dates or when you were around him watching a movie or spending time together.

But the feeding was something that had you at cero alcohol. You pretend to get a text just to Google if one glass was okay. Maybe not? You didn't think about that.

"Amm, déjame responder esto rápido, perdón, el trabajo." You say nervously. He nodded, not taking too much care. (Let me answer this quickly. Sorry, it's from work)

A quick Google search taught you that you could, but had to pump and throw that milk away because that's where the alcohol would be.

"Perdón, deja lo pongo en no molestar." You say, now more relaxed. "Un poco de vino no matará a nadie." You joke, making him laugh. (Sorry, let me put it on. Don't disturb. A little wine never killed nobody)

Once you both sit down and begin eating, you notice how different he is. The beard was more prominent, more styled, too. He has this more prominent dark bag under his eyes. This guy never rests.

"Me gusta tu barba, esta más estilizada y te sienta mucho más." You say honestly, "pero sabes, debes dormir más, qué son esas ojeras Pedro? Te pasas jugando hasta tarde de nuevo?" (I like your beard. It's more stylish and it fits you so well. But you know, you need to sleep more. What are those bags under your eyes? Are you playing video games till the morning again?)

He rolls his eyes. "Ay mamá, pero primero me halagas y luego me matas, venga que deja que el vino haga efecto preciosa." (But you first compliment me and then trash talk me, at least let the wine get into my system baby.)

You both laugh.

And it feels good. Being like this again. Being so close and able to joke without worrying.

The jokes continue. You both know you have a talk, but you want to enjoy the beginning of the night first.

"Déjame ayudarte." You take both plates and take them to the sink and wash them. (Let me help you)

He looks at the way you're washing the dishes, even when it's a completely normal thing to do. You doing it for the first time in so long was something he couldn't believe.

"Pedro," you say, noticing how lost he is. "Estas bien?" (Are you okay?)

"Si si si, quieres ir a la sala? Ahí estaremos más cómodos." He's nervous, and so are you. (Do you want to go to the living room? We will be more comfortable there)

You nod, walking to the living room.

Your heart is beating faster.

Your hands are sweating.

Or was that the water you didn't dry?

Guess you can blame the water.

"Yo quiero"

"Necesito decir"

You both talk, laugh at how coordinated that was.

"Vamos preciosa, comienza tu." (C'mon baby, you go)

You opened your mouth, but nothing was coming out.

Even when you practice how you were going to say the things you want to say. Nothing.

"Okay, entonces voy yo." He laughs, trying to make you feel less nervous. You nodded. "Bien, no es fácil poner todo en palabras y perdón si la cago, créeme que estoy jodidamente nervioso y siento que el puto corazón me va a salir del pecho. Y, la verdad no sé ni por qué empecé diciendo esto, creo que, ammm, Okay." (Okay, so my turn. It's not easy to put everything into words, and I'm sorry if I fucked up, believe me I'm fucking nervous and I feel like my fucking heart is going to burst out of my chest. And to be honest, I don't know why I'm saying that. I think that, ammm, okay)

He pauses, breathing deeply.

"Perdón," he says, looking at you. "Por haberte dejado tan de la nada. Se que fui una mierda contigo y créeme que no fue como lo planeé. Yo en serio no quería lastimarte." (Sorry, for leaving you so out of nowhere. I know I was a piece of shit with you, and believe me, it was not how I planned it. I didn't mean to hurt you)

"Y por qué lo hiciste?" You ask, eyes never leaving his. (So, why did you?)

"Porqué fui un cobarde, porqué no puse tus sentimientos o los míos primero, porqué dejé que otros dictarán nuestro futuro y me arrepiento tanto. Si tuviera una maquina del tiempo regresaría a esa noche y cambiaría todo." (because I was a coward, because I didn't put your feelings and mine first, I let others dictate our future, and I regret that. If I had the chance, I would go back in time and change everything)

"A qué te refieres con qué dejaste que otros dictaran nuestro futuro?" No te entiendo. (What do you mean you let others dictate our future? I don't get it.)

"Es a lo único a lo que le prestaste atención?" He asks, trying to change the subject. (It's the only thing you paid attention to?)

"Pedro," you say with that tone he knows, that mom tone when you won't take his bullshit for an answer.

"Venga que al menos dime que me perdonas." He tries again, failing. (C'mon, at least tell me you forgive me)

"Pedro, responde mi pregunta." You say downing your tone a little bit more.

He shakes his head. He didn't want to tell you about that conversation with your father, but another lie is not the best way to go now.

"Mira, tú padre y yo hablamos. Y él estaba tan seguro que tú me dejarías y yo solo quería la jodida bendición. Por qué no me dijo si y luego me odio en secreto? Joder, preciosa lo siento tanto, yo no debí escucharle pero sus palabras se sintieron como putas puñaladas y tu no querías irte a Portofino. Y tu ibas a decir que no. Tenías un futuro tan brillante delante de ti y yo solo era un jugador de fútbol. (Look, your father and I had a talk. He was so sure you'll leave and I was just looking for the fucking blessing, why couldn't he just smile and hate me in secret? Fuck, baby I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have, but his words hit me like fucking daggers, and you did wanted to go to Portofino, and you were going to say no. You had a bright future ahead, and I was just a football player. Your dad was right)

"Pedro, espera."

You didn't get that much because of how fast he was talking, but enough for you to understand.

"Mi papá te dijo qué?" You ask. (My dad told you what?)

You weren't going to imply that he was lying, but you needed to know if what you heard was right.

"Tu padre y yo." He tries, but you interrupted him.

"Mi papá te dijo qué?" You repeat getting up from the couch.

"Preciosa, por favor sientate." He tries to grab your arms, wanting to calm you down.

"No, Pedro." You back away. "Dime que me estás mintiendo." You can feel the tears. "Pedro, por favor." (Tell me you're lying.)

He cursed mentally at himself. He didn't want to lose you again.

"Y/n, por favor. Déjame explicarte." He's up now, eyes asking for permission to touch you.

"Es solo que. Si él te dijo eso. Entonces todo lo que me dijo a mi fueron mentiras." You say shocked. "Todo este tiempo él me dijo que eras un imbecil por haberme lastimado. Como nos miraba juntos y como estaba con el corazón roto por no vernos juntos en el futuro." You were in a shock moment. "Entonces, todo eso. Todo lo que hice. Todo fue por sus mentiras?" (is just, if he told you that. Then, all the words he told me were just lies. All this time, he told me you were an asshole for hurting me. How he saw us together and how heartbroken he was by us not getting a future together. Then all of that. All I did was. It was because of his lies?)

You tried to take deep breaths.

All the times he let you cry on his shoulder. All the words. All for nothing.

And then he, let you be alone your whole pregnancy, give birth without Pedro.

"Preciosa. Respira por favor." Pedro says, his hands on yours trying to help you breathe. (Baby, breathe, please.)

You shake your head no, you weren't mad at him but at your father.

You free your hands and grab your purse. You needed an explanation. And you were getting one.

"Es que me va a escuchar." You storm out of the house, Pedro calling your name and trying to get you before leaving. "No," you say as he grabs your arm.

"No te voy a dejar ir así." He closed the door back again. "Por favor, vamos a calmarnos."

"Es que no lo entiendes. No sabes lo que hice y ahora más que nunca sé que me vas a odiar por haberlo hecho. Pero no puedo quedarme así." You say, freeing your arm and quickly opening the door. (You don't get it. You don't know what I did. And know I know you'll hate me it. But I can't just let this go)

"Joder, que no te vas a ir." He says, taking your keys. "Mira, no sé que hiciste pero yo jamas te voy a odiar. Por favor, Y/n vamos adentro y hablamos. Cuando te calmes te puedes ir." (Fuck, you're not leaving. Look, I don't know what you did, but I'll never hate you. Please, let's go inside and talk. When you're calmer, you can leave)

"Ven conmigo entonces." You say, grabbing his arm and pushing him to the drivers side. "Te prometo explicarte todo." (Come with me then. I promise I'll explain everything)

He wasn't sure, but he knew how stubborn you're and how you weren't getting back inside.

"Ve por las llaves y cierra la puerta de la casa." He sighs. (Go get the keys and close the door)

While he enters the car, you run back inside and search for the keys where you know he always left them.

Grabbing them and running back outside he has the car on and ready.

"Te recuerdas donde queda la casa de mis padres?" You say grabbing your phone. Texting you father to know if he was home. (Do you remember where my parents' house is?)

"Estas segura?" He asks, really not sure about this whole plan you just thought. "Mira, podemos manejar un rato y así nos calmamos." (Are you sure? Look, we can drive for a while, and we can calm down)

"Pedro, por favor. Hazme caso a mi esta vez." You say as you get a message back saying he was home. (Pedro, please. Listen to me this time)

He didn’t say more.

The drive was quick, something he didn't appreciate.

When he parked outside, you quickly took your seat belt off, running to the door. Thankfully, you still had the key.

"Papá." You scream. "Papá."

You went to his office, he was always there.

"Y/n? Que haces acá?" Your mom says once she sees you. (What are you doing here?)

"Tú sabías?" You ask, angry. "Mamá, tú sabías que Papá le dijo a Pedro que me dejará para yo irme a Italia?" (Did you know? You knew dad told Pedro to break up with me so I could go to Italy)

Your mom stayed quiet.

"Lo sabías" you say. (You knew)

"Calmate, todo tiene explicación." She says, getting closer. (Calm down, everything has an explanation)

"No te me acerques." You say in a tone of voice you didn't even recognize. (Stay away from me)

"Qué carajos esta pasando en esta casa?" You dad says as he approaches both of you. "Y/n mi amor por que gritas?" (What the hell is going on in this house? Y/n, baby, why are you yelling?)

You had to calm yourself. You wanted to slap him. Hurt him. But no, he was your father. And as much as you want to you won't.

"Explicame algo." You say. "Por qué me dijiste que estabas tan triste por mi ruptura con Pedro cuando tú." You say putting your finger on him. "Tú le pediste que me dejara, cuando tú le dijiste que no era suficiente para mí?" (Explain something to me, why did you say you were so sad for my break up with Pedro when you ask him to leave me? You told him he wasn't enough for me)

"No sé de lo que hablas." He says, pushing your hand away. "Estas bien? Te miro alterada, quieres un té?" (I don't know what you're talking about, are you okay? I see you're upset. Do you want some tea?)

"No te atrevas," you say, backing off a little. "Ya sé todo, al menos se hombre para admitirlo." (Don't you dare. I know everything. Be man enough to admit it)

"No me hables así, para empezar." He says, elevating his tone of voice. "Y si lo hice, qué? Yo quería más para ti, no un tipo que se gana la vida pegandole al balón." (Don't talk to me that way. If I did, what about it? I wanted more for you. Not just some dude that makes his bag from kicking a ball)

"Y qué?" You scuff "estas loco? Ustedes dos me manipularon para que yo pensara que Pedro estaba detrás de todo esto, que ya no me amaba. Y para qué? Por sus estúpidos estandares?" (What about it? Are you out of your mind? You two manipulate me into thinking Pedro was behind all of this. You make me believe he didn't love me and for what? For your stupid standars?)

"No son solo estándares, piensa las cosas niña, en serio esperabas que dejáramos que jodieras tu vida? Pagamos cantidades absurdas para que fueras a la mejor universidad solo para que fueras la esposa de un futbolista." He fake laughs. (They're not only standars, think this through kid, were you expect us to let you fucked up your life like that? Paying stupid amounts for you to go to the best college just to settle down to be a footballer wife?)

"Era mi vida," you scream. "mi vida, y ustedes no tenian por que quitarmela." (It was my life, my life. And you don't get to take that away from me.)

"Y/n por favor, cálmate, dejanos explicarte." She tries to hold you, but you push her away. (Y/n, please, calm down, let us explain everything to you)

"No lo entiendes." You say. "No entiendes nada, mamá." (You don't get it. You don't get it, mom)

"Claro que si. Amor por favor."

"No me toques" you yell at her. "Me dais asco." (Don't touch me. You both disgust me)

"Ya basta! Deja el drama." Your dad says as if is nothing. (Oh, stop it. Stop the drama)

You laugh, shaking your head. They don't get it.

"No es drama, papá." You say as the words come out with venom. "Ustedes me manipularon para pensar que todo fue distinto. Mierda, me la pase sola." You cry. (It's not drama, dad. You both manipulated me into thinking everything was different. Shit, you let me be alone)

"No estuviste sola, estábamos contigo. Paulo, Elena, tu papi y yo." You mom says.

"No, no es a lo que me refiero. Me dejaron estar sola nueve meses. Y tú." You point at your mom. "Me convenciste de no decirle nada, de que sola estaba mejor. Y yo te creí, porque pensé que él ya no me quería." You were crying badly at this point. (No, that's not what I meant. You both let me be alone for nine months. And you. You convinced me into not saying anything because I was better alone. And I believed you because I thought he didn't love me anymore)

You clean your tears. They weren't worth it. They don't even care.

"Por ustedes Pedro no conoce a nuestro hijo." You say sadly. "Por ustedes se perdió tantas cosas de nuestro hijo." (Because of you, Pedro doesn't know our child. Because of you, he missed so many things of our child)

"Nuestro qué?" (Our what?)

You feel how the air is stuck in your throat.

You turn around. Here he is, keys in one hand, purse in the other.

"Pedro."

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