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#imagine if i had that kind of time nowadays...
neet-elite · 16 hours
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↳ EVENT 10. M!Whitney ( Incest + Yandere)
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Pairing: M!Whitney / F!Reader
Genre: Smut 18+
WC: 3,318
Warnings: yandere, incest, creampie, slight breeding
Prompt(s): 07 — incest + 18 — yandere
Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: we've had mean yandere robin... now lets have some soft yandere whitney, shall we? i just love the contrast between big mean bro whitney who is only ever soft for you </333 his precious baby sister </33
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With a loud yawn and a long stretch, his eyes flutter under the warm sunlight spilling into his room, kissing his eyelids open with commonplace kindness. You must be awake, too, then. Its the only time his blinds are open like this, seeing as he never does so himself. Honestly, he's not sure what he'd do without you... The thought of which immediately panics him, and so he leans over, turning under the warm sheets to find reassurance in the form of your pretty body like always— but when his hand searches for your soft skin, he turns up empty.
His heart races, imagining where you must have run off to. You wouldn't leave him, would you? Not when he made you feel so good last night, right? Another attention seeking yawn escapes him, soon followed by the sound of your feet padding across the floor. Immediate relief, you don't understand. Just how much of an instrumental balm you are in his sad little life, lighting the room up far more than the sun could ever hope to with just a simple smile.
You're getting far too good at peeling yourself away from him nowadays, much more than he'd reasonably like; or even expect from his precious baby sister. Hasn't he taught you better by now? Punishment already on his mind first thing in the morning, but the sight of your sweet smiling face greeting him from the end of the bed promptly convinces him otherwise. He can never be too mean to you, can he? Little sister privileges, he muses to himself.
"Bathroom." You explain yourself without needing to be asked to, that's more like it.
And all he can muster the strength to do is grunt back at you, bed head hair pushed out of his face in favour of fully taking in the sight of you this morning. Like always, pretty, he thinks to himself. So so fuckin' pretty— a reminder as to why he has to keep you all to himself. It should be illegal, he thinks, to have such a hold on him so early in the morning.
Some part of him deep down feels a little guilty for how he treats you, at least. A low thrum in his chest signalling his enjoyment when you gently sit by his side on the bed unprompted, his hand taking root on your bare thigh to lightly squeeze at in self indulgent thought. Of course he feels bad about keeping you secluded to his room, disallowing you much leeway when it comes to living the life you assumedly want to, but...
You're stuck with him for the rest of you life out of necessity. A needed precaution to keep your innocence intact, to not let the shitty fucking world dirty you the way it's ruined him.
No, because if anyone deserves the right to corrupt you so sweetly, it should be your own big brother, don't you think? He knows you the best, anyway. Would soil you in secrecy, turn you into a slut made just for him, and not some seedy fuck outside the boundary of your very own four walls who's likely more than ready to abuse you for entertainment. He's the lesser of two evils, he tells himself every night as you sleep by his side.
You've been progressing well enough under his roof as well— so there's no need for you to seek outside help at this rate.
Once more, he stretches absentmindedly. Removing the last remainder of drowsiness from his system before returning his full attention back to you, his precious baby sister. How cute you look perched on his bed like so, chest tight at the way you smile so prettily at him from above; the sun catching your eyes the same as it kissed his.
"C'mere. Wanna cuddle my baby some more." He huffs, deep rasp to his sleep ridden voice for you to giggle at. Overprotective arms immediately wrap around your smaller than his frame to help tug you closer, under the heavy sheets for him to snuggle into you even before you've had a chance to properly answer him. Exposed thighs encased in his own naked skin, rubbing his leg up and down your lower half just because it feels nice to connect with you skin-to-skin like this. His own flesh and blood, humming contentedly while he merely enjoys existing next to you, idly playing with the hem of his shirt you're wearing. Which, don't get him wrong, he absolutely adores when you decide to wear nothing but his clothing to bed. A secret act of ownership you selectively abide by.
"Quit calling me that!" You laugh, and he can hear the cute pout you must be adorning right now. Fuck, his heart feels fit to burst with how pure you are, how despite his ill intentions, you remain otherwise unaware of his faults.
The biggest being his sister fucking tendencies, how his cock grows hard against your bare ass as you playfully, innocently, wiggle around with him. A small tickle here, a puff of air against your sensitive skin there, and you're already squirming all over him. Unknowing of how your body rubs so naively against his own, his eyes rolling back in part shame for how much he enjoys your cluelessness, in part because he wants to clue you in so fucking bad, fuck, morning wood poking your backside proud and eager.
As it always does when you join him in bed.
Once you settle in his arms and a dumb smile finds its way to his lips, he teases you some more. Just because it's fun. Because he can. His fingertips ghosting up and down your thigh lovingly, dipping under the shirt you wear and up to your ribcage— happy to feel no bra barricading his touch.
"Are you saying you're not my baby?" He huffs behind you, yet can't even hope to hide the wider smile that tugs on his lips when you turn around to defend yourself, pretty pouty face just begging to be kissed in the early morning air.
"S'not true, Whitney..." You look down, and he imagines you're catching sight of his hard cock, freely exposed for your mouth to water at. "I am, you know that." You continue, sighing dramatically for him to dote upon. He does nothing to hide the fact that you're turning him on right now, thinking only with his dick when you wordlessly shuffle a little closer, routine settling in thickly when he feels the weight of your leg ride his hip— an open invitation. Big brother has taught you well, hasn't he? That to receive his protection for the big, bad, and scary world out there, you have to put out for him. It's only fair; others would be asking for so much more. He's letting you off lightly, remember?
And due to his diligence, he knows he's left you with no other frame of reference to ruminate over how fucking bad it is to be cuddling with your big brother like this. How you aren't normal by wrapping your arms around his neck, and how no other siblings enjoy morning kisses hidden under warm blankets together.
And yet still, he obliges. Because he's disgusting, an innate need to degrade his perfect little sister with his dirty tongue taking home in his tummy, dripping saliva down your throat so softly when your lips part for his pleasure. Humming against your lips during the idle kiss, grabbing the base of his cock like he's used to and jerking it a few times against your hole; not yet slipping in, though he fucking wants to, but instead just teasing. Letting you feel every drop of precum your kisses coax out of his tip, smearing the sticky substance against your wet little sister cunt in the hopes of getting you addicted to his cock in the same way he's hooked on your baby sister cunt; nothing else compares. No matter the amount of other sluts he fucks when he's out of the house, keeping you in the dark about his attempts to grow out of needing to fuck familiarity— your open and wanting hole continues to coax him. Comforting in the way your tongue slips against his own, pulling away for air only to beg for him to put it in already, a fat bead of precum rolling over his tip and down to your hole in preparation.
Afterall, nobody could ever fuck him better than his own sister, proven by the fact that he seeks your hole time and time again, these mornings fucks a regular enough occurrence for you to already understand the drill before he's even said anything of the sort. You know him inside and out, just as he's remembered every sensitive patch of your skin to suck on to have you moaning, kiss bruised lips attaching to your neck as he dips his tip into your hole, and the intricate details of your tight fucking cunt as he pushes in a little more, giving you gentle little humps until his full length is coated in a mixture of pre and slick and he can comfortably rest inside of you balls deep, drinking up every little sigh and gasp his fat cock fucks out of you.
Poor baby, despite the repeated fuckings he'd given you over the years, you never were able to properly adjust to his size, were you?
Which only makes his skin tingle hotter, fingers itching in their need to brutally drag you down his length and bully you on his cock for being the most annoying little sister in the world. Like, he can't imagine any other big brothers struggling with the feelings your pretty face brings out of him, or how they'd cope with the amount of precum dribbling from their tip to lubricate your insides just because your little cunt is squeezing around his girth so well, fucking shit—
"Need big brother already?" He toys with you, sneaky smirk on his lips to match the insidious tone he adopts, lying through his fucking teeth and placing the burden of incest on you, anything to turn you as nasty as he is, a perfect pair for each other. Though he doesn't really mean his teasing; never does. Not like when he acts out against the rest of the world, you're his perfect pretty sister after all; you deserve special treatment. Light-hearted flirting and careful touches only, softly cooing down at you when you whine back up at him in protest.
Okay, okay. He gets it, even if only because he feels the same way as you. Call it sibling intuition, it's not too dissimilar from lovers, is it? And the thought of calling you his lover immediately turns his head hazy, vision glazed over in sheer desperation to protect, love, and care for you for as long as he lives; God that's why you're in his arms right now. Tucked under the sheets, hidden away from the outside world for as long as he can manage to hold you captive, cock pulsing inside your perfect little cunt— don't worry, little one. Big brother is here to make you feel all better again, okay?
Today is as good as any to enact his vile quest for love, he absently supposes, fully sheathed inside your warm squirmy cunt, arms wrapped tightly around your back to squeeze your shirt clad tits against his bare chest. You even smell like him, how gross. Especially considering it turns him on even more to inhale your mixed scent, cock trembling against your snug walls like a promise. You're mine, or something equally as immoral.
He draws his hips back, chin rested on top of your head as you cuddle closer to his chest, and he's driven by pure need to start moving. A hand comes up to support your nape before he slowly pushes back in, intent on making you feel every greedy inch of his cock stretching your insides to ill-fit him. He wants so badly to fuck you into his shape already, lift you up and down his cock till all you can mumble is big brother, over and over again like a sick mantra mimicking his own thoughts of baby sis, little sister, love of my life.
But he refrains, mostly because he's soooo sleepy next to you, eyes gently closed as he focuses on the feeling of your hot insides, how soft and squishy they are when wrapped around his thick hard cock, how you squeak with pleasure every time he throbs against you. So nice and comfortable, his heart rate quickening at how accepting your body is of his perversion. It's only natural, right?
"Comfy?" He groans out, chest surely vibrating against your face from how much sleep resides in his voice. Though it's not much of a question so much as it's just daily conversation, slipping into some twisted sense of domesticity, an attempt to coax you deeper into his captive ways. You sweet little thing, nodding against him with a whine caught in your throat as he snaps his hips into you unfairly, just to laugh at how cute you are when you're getting rocked on his cock.
He bets you don't even know what he's doing right now, do you? How every time he lazily fucks his cock fully inside of your tight fucking hole, he's promising more. More safety, more of him, so long as you're willing and ready to accept his love. The yucky, perverse, downright dysfunctional love he regards you with, obsessively fawning over you with a steady rhythm in and out, doting on you with his dribbling tip kissing your cervix. Balls deep, fucking you so gently that the bed barely moves under him, a lazy pace to convey how even the slightest touch from you is enough to have him head over heels. And it's always been that way, hasn't it?
Remember how he stole all of your firsts? Your first orgasm, finger fucked out of you during a nightly shared bath, his fixation on his precious little sister already in full swing by then, and how he'd corner you in his room when you'd be too scared to sleep alone at night, knuckle deep in your untouched virgin pussy for him to exploit, to claim as his own. The only one to touch you like this, his breathing growing laboured at the memories he's shared with you. Like your first kiss, robbed from you on a lazy afternoon, a simple stretch over to your pretty face and that was that. Only a quick peck, mind you, though he made sure to make out with you soon after. With you on his big brother lap, two big hands wrapped securely around your lower back— only so you couldn't escape. And, well, it was just so easy to escalate things from there, right? He remembers all too clearly how you'd take to dry humping him whenever you could, eager to explore that good feeling that only big brother's rock hard cock could give you again, and he made damned sure not to let you know how wrong the whole love affair was. Instead, encouraging it. Much like now, how he takes hold of your cute little ass and helps manhandle you into fucking your darling cunt back down on his cock, thrusting with you in tandem, using you like a lil toy because you don't fucking know any better.
And that's for the best, he thinks. For his own selfish desires, for how he wants more than anything to keep you all to himself. Dumb on big brothers cock, drooling all over his bed sheets for him to suck on in secrecy— God he loves you. Every single part of you, the only genuinely good thing left in his world. You wouldn't blame him for getting a little territorial over you, would you? Especially when your cunt sucks him off so well, taking the brutally slow fuck so nicely, only a little whiny when pats your ass as a reprimand for trying to hurry things along.
"Let me enjoy myself." He tuts down at you, yet still, because you're his cute baby sister and because he can never say no to you, he at least drops his hand between two bodies. Thumb immediately finding your puffy little clit like home, how slippery it is with slick already, fuck. He could cum on the spot from just one gasped moan you let slip at his kind treatment, how your hips roll against him with more fervour now that he's rubbing your sensitive spot. See, you should stay with big brother forever. Keep a happy little family, maybe even start your own with him? Oh, you gotta do just that when you're moaning so sweetly on his cock, right? Leaning back a little, he plants a few chaste kisses to your forehead as encouragement.
"It's okay, you're close, aren't you?" He coos down at you, dirty love dripping from his snake tongue at the way you shake and shiver against him in his tight hold, legs tangled with your own to keep you as close as possible to his heart. Can you hear how hard it beats for you? How even now, cock repeatedly buried deep in your tight tiny hole, he still yearns for you. Forever searching for more, staking his claim on you night after night just so that you never forget who you belong to.
"Big brother—!" You moan, unknowing answering his silent ramblings, all high pitched and needy, prompting him to circle your clit a little harder. A little faster. His thrusts growing sloppy only because of how tight your cunt grips him, how your walls attempt to suck him in further at the same time, his mind dizzy with sleep and lust, balls threatening to impregnate his baby sister one lazy morning out of sheer frustration for how good you feel. So close, aren't you? He can fucking taste it, flicking your clit unfairly as he drives his cock against your insides with more purpose, fucking through your tightness in an effort to communicate: big brother is the one making you feel so good, so never leave his side, okay?
A few more fucks, a couple more circles of his thumb, and you're creaming his cock just like he wanted. Grasping onto any part of him your little hands can reach, the feeling of your nails digging into his skin causing him to continue rutting into you through your orgasm, helping you ride it out not because he wants to, but because he can't fucking stop himself from thrusting through it. Hedonistic pleasure rolling down his spine with every convulsion your cunt offers his sensitive cock, balls taut with disgusting need to fill you full of brotherly cum.
He at least helps you finish cumming first though, praising you through the waves with sweet words of encouragement. Good job, baby. He sighs into you, stroking himself off inside your hole with newfound purpose. So proud of you, making big brother feel so good, he whines against your forehead, hips stuttering into you as he soon nears his end. Gonna make y'all mine, kay? he slurs right before shooting fat ropes against your cervix, humping his needy cock in circles as he dumps a load deep in your cunt. Rubbing his shaft along the sides, feeling the sticky cum coat his cock with every thrust, wincing at the feeling of it gushing out of your overstuffed hole when he just doesn't stop cumming. Holding you tight— tighter than before, face smushed against his hard chest as he struggles for air, your body completely encased by his own as he treats you more like a toy to be used than anything resembling love.
But you love that too, don't you?
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chacerider · 1 year
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happy birthday ryou (2013 -> 2022)!
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bomnun · 1 year
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becoming acquainted with and talking to someone who’s kind of a hobby fansite and sees shinwon almost every week widened my perspective a bit, but one of the main things it does is actually make me admire him more. his mental resilience and the way he goes to work week after week, being friendly with the fans who come to see him. he’s well aware that things are a mess and the fans are beyond exhausted too, and all of them would rather see him under very different circumstances, but he still greets everyone in a friendly way with a smile that doesn’t seem forced, and listens to and empathizes with people. his friends have comebacks, multiple of them even, and he’s always supportive of them too. i know we don’t know celebrities, but I really think he’s strong for continuing to do this, for over a year and a half, and he seems to Care and aim to be warm and supportive.
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chisatowo · 1 year
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I need 2 stop making salmonid ocs I cannot design all these fuckers I need 2 design the many many characters from my actual stories and aus that need designed and yet all I wanna do is make more emo fish ppl help-
#rat rambles#oc posting#splat posting#thinking abt valiant's ex friend who was the person that she got annoyed with and left because of#he was smth of a found brother to her as they largy stuck together during their childhoods and as such initially both physically developed#in similar ways with him beimg slightly more akin to your average adult smallfry#but during his late teens he started growing again and most assumed he was just a late bloomer#but as he was in his early 20s approaching mid 20s and he was still going he started realising that it was probably. not gonna stop.#he never ended up gettimg the chance to tell valient tho before she left#valiant was not necesarily an outcast but she was considered hard to connect to and she herself was very secretive around most#she had big ambitions that she wanted to keep a secret as to not have her ideas stolen but also constantly longed to enthuse abt her genius#so her one friend was the person shed usually go off too and he usually tried his best to listen and engage as best he could but he wasnt.#the best at it. and that only got worse as the looming prospect of being possibly seperated from everyone he knows and loves started to get#to him and since he didnt tell anyone valiant assumed he didnt care abt or stopped believing in her ideas which hurt and frustrated her#after one particular conversation where at some point he straight up told her that he wasnt up for talking she took it personally and left#nowadays she looks back on that with a lot of regret since in hindsight she can tell that he was probably going through some shit#she feels like its too late to go back or even reach out tho since its been over 20 years at this point#she doesnt know that even if she did he wouldnt be there :(#as for him himself I imagine that being a collasol salmon comes with. a lot of complicated feelings for some#its a deeply honored and even celebrated roll and theyre very well cared for but at the same time it kind of requires being much more#isolated than your typical salmonid even if they have a handful of caretakers with them most of the time#they usually have to be moved out to the deeper parts of the ocean too meaning that its difficult for family and friends to visit sometimes#plus there is this level of envy thay exists in some salmon around the titans sometimes which for my big boys case does fuck with him#he is a very anxious person who tends to overthink things and boy howdy does every last element of all of this not help#it especially doesnt help that his best friend left before he could even say goodbye and he hasnt heard from or even of her since :(#his crew ends up getting picked off by predators while escorting him to a nearby border for a grooming session leaving him alone and lost#in the depths of the ocean with little tools to navigate#he knows that death is not supposed to be a scary thing for him but he is so scared in this moment#not because of death itself but much more so him desperately not wanting to die alone#he was supposed to be celebrated. it was supposed to be a joyous event. his family was supposed to be there. he'll never see valiant again
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The ‘bad’ kind of desire
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pairing: soobin x reader
synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.
warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it
a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭
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“Am I bad person?”
Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.
"What?"
And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head. 
It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”
His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.
Soobin.
Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.
Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with. 
Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.
"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"
You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression. 
He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."
“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.
Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.
Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge? 
“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”
You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.
He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.
You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type. 
But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.
“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“
“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.
Really, why were you so concerned now? 
Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different. 
Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.
Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile. 
Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.
He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.
In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.
“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“
Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”
“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.
You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.
Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."
"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.
He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."
—-
You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.
Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.
He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.
He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.
But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.
You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.
And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.
You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.
But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.
It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.
Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.
And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.
Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.
Soobin was different though, special.
You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.
He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.
—-
"Fuck," he panted, "please,"
The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.
"Please,"
Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.
"Please."
"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.
Close enough.
"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"
He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.
"I need it~"
The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"
Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"
He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.
He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.
Not with you in the next room.
He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.
Because he would only focus on you.
You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.
But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.
He wanted to hear you.
Not some substitute for the real thing.
He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.
Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.
You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.
You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.
"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"
Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.
Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.
Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.
"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."
Fuck, so that was what it was.
His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.
You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.
God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.
Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.
But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.
In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.
You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.
He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.
You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.
God, that’s what he needed right now.
Needed you.
Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.
Not you fucking someone else in a different room.
Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.
"More."
He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly 
"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"
He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.
He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.
“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.
"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.
"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"
He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.
More.
"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.
He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.
"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.
"Your's." He moans in reply.
And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.
Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.
But it doesn't matter.
Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.
Up,
"Slut." You whisper.
and down,
"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.
over,
"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.
and over,
"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.
harder,
"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.
faster,
"Mine." Across his cheek.
deeper.
Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-
"-Cum for me baby,"
And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.
Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.
"Fuck,"
And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"
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a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭
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fridayth13 · 3 months
Note
Could I request Zhongli reuniting with his wife after the two had a falling out 500 years ago?
crushed cor lapis.
↳ zhongli × gn!immortal!artist!reader
↳ part one, part two
↳ genre: soft angst at the beginning, but it's mostly bittersweet | wordcount: 1.6k | warnings: none
↳ notes: i ended up with less angst than i thought i would have. but i did want to explore the thought of time passage and fighting for people who are going to live forever, even if it's subtle; reader is immortal and implied to be an adeptus or a god, but the kind isn't very important; ive had an idea for zhongli and an artist reader for a long time so i tried to combine it i hope you don't mind; as with the gender. i did write with a fem!reader in mind as per the request but in the end, the gender didn't need to be specified for anything so i left it gender neutral; i tried to give reader a more divine disposition about them so the writing ended up really flowery, but in any case i hope you enjoy! i really did have fun writing this one
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You were a painter.
In your old life, as you liked to call it, however, you were a god. Your domain of influence laid in artistry and beauty.
Or rather, that was what Morax used to tell you. Archons like him were the only beings in Teyvat with real domains of influence. But you wouldn't really stop him if that was his way of calling you pretty.
That was about five hundred years ago. Nowadays was a very different story.
You crushed the yellow berries in your mortar and pestle to turn into paint for tomorrow's commission.
You liked your job in Liyue Harbor. As quaint and.. human as it was, you thought there was divinity to be found in the painstaking recreation of the things around you. Though a painting couldn't rival a Kamera in terms of accuracy, you were certain it completely surpassed the device in most other things.
You slowed your movements, surveying the consistency of the paint and the color. That would probably do. You'd collected quite a lot, so you supposed it was time to head back. All you were really lacking earlier was yellow.
And so you trekked on home from the terraces, skipping over stumps of cor lapis and sunset-painted grass along your way.
As you finally reached your home in the harbor, the sun had fully gone down. The lanterns lit, casting the entire city in a soft, warm glow. The neighboring waters reflected the deep blue of the sky and the speckles of rust and gold adorning every building in sight.
You opened your door and you thought of Morax, wondering if he knew five hundred years ago what beauty would settle upon his previously war torn nation. Leaning on the doorframe, you watched over it for a while. Children playing, kites flying, dinner being prepared, laughter and joy running amok.
You don't like to think about him too much, or how his silence is present in every part of the city that was all him, despite having nothing to do with him any longer. No matter how much time had passed, you seemed stuck in the first night he decided not to apologize.
Still, five hundred years was a long time. Although it felt like the blink of an eye, even immortals had to move on eventually.
You gathered your materials inside and closed the door behind you.
The mountains may erode, but they will always be mountains.
You recalled his own words as you saw him again for the first time in five hundred years.
A human-sized Rex Lapis stood before you, hands behind his back, dressed to the nines, pristine, and put together, and perfect, and not at all like he ought to have seemed like at your first meeting in several centuries. Though at the very same time, you couldn't imagine him looking any other way.
You bitterly savored the way he avoided your eyes in front of his boss.
"So this is him!" She said. The lively Director Hu Tao of the local funeral parlor was Rex Lapis's boss. You tried not to laugh. "Our new consultant, Mr. Zhongli."
You set your canvas down onto its easel, then the bulk of your dyes and paints on the floor. You did this without averting your eyes, as if trying to burn him if he ever had the nerve to look back at you.
He did not. And to her credit, it seemed Hu Tao noticed it as well. So as not to make your client too uncomfortable, you decided to take a step towards them.
"Mr. Zhongli." You said. With the proximity you put between you, he had no choice but to look back at you. Not a lot changed about him in human form, but by far, his eyes were the most the same. Down to the hard, intense stare, and the set of his brows. You wondered how many other people in Liyue he'd enchanted with them while he was busy avoiding you.
"Mr. Zhongli?" You repeated, a little less amused. Though you somewhat enjoyed how stupefied he looked at your appearance, you'd endured his silence long enough. "My name is Y/N. It's an honor to meet you here."
This seemed to regain him his senses. That, or Hu Tao's suspicious back and forth glances between the two of you.
Zhongli cleared his throat.
"..The honor is mine."
Hu Tao nodded, seeming satisfied for now. She clapped her hands together in excitement, turning to you.
"Alright! I suppose I'll leave you to it then. I have complete faith that you'll be able to depict the poise and elegance of my esteemed consultant."
You gave her your best half smile.
"Well, I'll try."
"No need to be modest! I've seen your work before. You're one of, if not the best, painter in Liyue. Just ask Mr. Zhongli! He's been very taken with your paintings even before we first met. He speaks very highly of you."
You crossed your arms. "You don't say?"
Five hundred years or the blink of an eye, you could still see his embarrassment without him having to say a word.
Director Hu Tao had business to take care of for the funeral parlor, and so left with a flourish, and a "Make sure to get his good side!" as she ran off.
You both continued to speak as civilians for a little while. He sat down at a table on the porch, a steaming pot of tea on said table between you. Your face was obscured to him through the thick white canvas.
Avoiding conversation was easy, but not. Comfortable, but not. Natural, but not. It shouldn't have been. As such was the nature of a marriage to the Geo Archon, you supposed. Or rather, the current lack thereof. But even that was up in airs.
"How.. How have you been?"
Your responding glare was unseen to him, but he heard it in the vitreous tone of your reply.
"Fine." You said. "Something must've happened to you though. Your eloquence seems to have disappeared into thin air."
"..You are still upset. I see."
"In what world would I be upset, Mr. Zhongli?" Your use of his mortal name created a crease in his brow. You gently brushed over it on his painting.
"I didn't think you'd want to see me."
"You still could've asked." You muttered, momentarily leaning sideways to look him in the eye. "For someone so revered for his wisdom, your brain still seems to be as hard as rocks."
You caught his surprised expression as you turned back to the canvas. You didn't allow him another word.
"Honestly, who ghosts their own spouse after an argument like that? You'd think the best time would be after.. five hours. Five days. Maybe five weeks after. Not five centuries—"
You caught him mumble, "Well, it's not as if you tried to talk to me either."
"I didn't think I needed to. You made it very clear you wanted me to leave you to die in the Archon War all on your heroic lonesome."
When he didn't respond, you snuck a glance.
The sun's rays were at the precipice of turning gold in its descent into the sea. The glow smeared his porcelain cheeks in amber, his eyes in glitter, the metallic components of his suit in light. He looked like a monument. Tall, statuesque, and lonely. Almost like his mountainous true form. More beautiful than even his numerous statues across Liyue could capture. More than you could capture. Though you did certainly try.
Annoyed and angrily pining as you were, you still tried to get his eyes right. The little flecks of rust against gold. Like cuts of cor lapis crushed to shimmering powder in the Archon's hand. A man of his own making.
You looked at Zhongli as the golden hour faded, slowly turning dusky pink. His eyes swam in wistfulness as he stared out at the harbor. You couldn't help the dull twinge of sorrow deep in the pit of your stomach.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
You didn't know how to follow up. You weren't entirely sure what you were apologizing for. But it felt nice to hear it back from him.
When he finally looked back at you, you were tracing the rich scarlet of his eyeliner onto the canvas.
At some point, he turned on the lamp and set it down beside you while you worked on the finishing touches.
"You're better than I remember." He whispered like he thought you couldn't hear him.
You weren't sure what to say to that either. You just kept painting.
"This doesn't change anything. I'm still angry with you."
"Of course."
Zhongli never seemed to run out of tea. Despite not having brewed a new pot throughout your stay, the one on the table continued to steam, its aroma wafting leisurely throughout the room. When he offered you a cup after you left the canvas out to dry, you let yourself take it. You allowed him a calmer response when he spoke.
"This may upset you a bit more, but I am also somewhat bothered you never tried to talk to me."
"So we are at an impasse."
Of course, it did occur to you that you were both being hardheaded and moronic. But you were comforted by a few things.
"It would seem so." Zhongli nodded.
"Or maybe not." You quipped, glancing pointedly at an old painting on the wall. "You seem to have been stalking me, Mr. Zhongli."
"I think stalking might be a slight exaggeration."
"Oh, really."
Even as the mountains erode over the centuries, from the dust, they are fated to reform anew.
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dividers from @clutteredfun
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animeyanderelover · 4 months
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Characters of your choice from JJK with a darling who has a tattoo of their ex please
Holidays, everyone! I finally have my holidays! I changed it slightly so that the darling has a tattoo of the name of their ex.
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, clinginess, manipulation, controlling behavior, forceful behavior, death
S/o has a tattoo of the name of their ex
Fushiguro Megumi
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💙You have never told him of your tattoo before, aware how paranoid Megumi tends to be. Perhaps that would have been the wiser choice yet instead he discovers the name engraved on your skin himself as you fail to cover the name on your shoulder in time as he accidentally walks in on you changing. Thick silence befalls the room as he just stands there, frozen as his eyes are glued to the black kanji signs on your skin. His mind repeats the name over and over again until he suddenly remembers where he has heard it before. His heart drops, a lumb of fear and insecurities forms at the back of his throat and his eyes widen frantically. You try to come up with something, anything to explain this to him yet he is faster. Suddenly he stands in front of you, arms seizing your shoulders as he asks you with a slightly raised voice why you never told him that you had a tattoo of your ex. Why?? Why would you do that?? Were...were they that important to you? What about him then?
💙He can't bear to look at you the same way as before after that for quite some while, not without imagining the name of your ex tattooed on your shoulder. It's like a marking that spells out that you once loved someone else and whenever he actually sees your tattoo, he feels something clenching deep inside his chest. His insecurities and paranoia increase as he starts wondering if you still harbor feelings for your ex. Going as far as carrying a tattoo of their name around is a pretty big sign of devotion after all. You find yourself having a harder time to calm him down, the tattoo on your shoulder triggering him whenever he catches a glimpse of it. It haunts him, torments him a bit and he has wondered a couple of times already if he has to threaten your ex as paranoia poisons his ability to think rationally and instead whispers into his mind that you might return to your ex. He knows that it isn't good for his sanity which is why at some point he begs you to remove it somehow. Please, it torments him.
Zenin Maki
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💚​Maki has known about your tattoo for a longer while now, it's hard to hide something written on your wrist with black and permanent ink after all. She already questioned this decision of yours back then quite a bit because it's quite risky to get a tattoo of the name of your ex without any guarantee that they'll stay. All you could do back then was to give her a pitiful laugh as you couldn't help but agree with her. Back then this was still fine though but now it is a different story as she's grown rather possessive over you. The tattoo is an eyesore for her whenever she sees it and due to the visible spot you chose, she sees it multiple times a day. She lets out a scoff whenever her eyes find the kanji signs and her mood is almost always worsening a tad bit whenever she spots the name of your former lover. At least she is reasonable enough to understand that both of you have broken it up for good so she isn't as wavering and paranoid as Megumi. She knows that you don't have any feelings for them anymore.
💚​That doesn't mean that she hasn't completely forgiven you for your stupidity to get a tattoo in the first place. In fact she is scolding you more nowadays for your decision than before. Maki knows that you regret that mistake yourself but she can't help it sometimes, she is a bit mad and tends to express that with not so kind words. At the very least she notices that her words only cause you to feel worse so she tries to comfort you as good as she can everytime her tongue slips and she accidentally cuts you with her words. She makes it very clear to you though that she greatly dislikes that you have the name of someone else decorating your body whilst you're together with her and you can't even blame her for it. She would appreciate for you to somehow get rid of this tattoo and sometimes you have the feeling that her wish sounds more like a demand.
Gojo Satoru
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🩵​It's perhaps not the best idea to let Gojo ever find out about your tattoo but how is that even supposed to work? The man is so terribly clingy and intrusive and despite his goofy facade, you have a feeling that he might react very badly to the sight of your tattoo. You try to figure out a way how to tell him as harmlessly as possible but you can't come up with anything. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference in the first place. That's at least what you think as you try to wiggle free from his unusually tight grip, one of his hands lifting up your shirt as dull blue eyes stare at the name written slightly above your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat when those same blue eyes finally meet your own and you feel like you could drown within the abyss of the darkness swirling behind those beautiful orbs. A forced smile stretches his face as he asks you why you have someone's name tattooed on your body. Especially that of your ex.
🩵​You have a hard time convincing him not to go after your ex as your gut screams at you that something terribly will happen otherwise. You beg him to have mercy since both of you have ended the relationship years ago and you don't even have any contact with them anymore. You swallow heavily when his heavy and colder gaze rests on you yet still plead him to not do anything to them as you promise to do whatever he wants. Your wish is somewhat granted as Gojo doesn't harm them but he still wants to have seen the person whose name stains your skin at least once. Needless to say, he is disappointed when he sees your ex who is in his eyes a nobody but perhaps that reassures him a tiny bit. He can't help but torment and scare the poor soul though and they don't know even why. He organizes an appointment for you where the tattoo will be completely removed and only after that he seems to return to his usual self, happily kissing the now empty spot on your skin.
Kamo Choso
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🩸​Choso is absolutely attached to your hips. He's needy, soft-spoken, careful and surprisingly considerate. If he wouldn't have been your kidnapper and creepy stalker, you might have appreciated him more though. There is something about him that sometimes just unsettles you and he himself doesn't even seem to notice when he's creeping you out until he witnesses your reaction. You don't even notice him until you feel his fingertips brushing against your skin and nearly jump out of your skin, turning bewildered around to see Choso staring at the same spot where your tattoo was only a few moments ago. He doesn't move as he now stares into empty air as if trying to process something until dark eyes finally meet your own. He swallows before apologizing that he just walked in on you without telling you anything. A few seconds of silence before you hear him asking you once again, this time in a slightly shaky tone, what that was he just saw on your back.
🩸​It's like Choso initially refuses to believe that a tattoo is something permanent as he rejects the thought that you will walk around with a name of your ex-lover forever engraved onto your being. You wake sometimes up in the middle of the night only to feel his hand rubbing against the tattoo as if trying to erase it himself, you notice the way his hands start trembling when he realizes that the ink doesn't fade away even a tiny bit and pray that he won't have a meltdown. Choso would never blame you for it but that means that his hostility is turned against your ex as he starts genuinely believing that they tricked you and manipulated your feelings, abused your kindness which is why you were fooled into getting such a tattoo. He never goes out to kill them though, only because you stop him though and successfully manage to coax him into not doing such a thing and instead he just clings onto you. He asks you anxiously more than once if there is a way to get rid of the tattoo and you know that it's probably the best way to preserve his sanity somehow.
Mahito
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🔷​Good luck in general with Mahito because that is a recipe for disaster anyways. Mahito's perception of love differs greatly and is much more twisted and warped than anything and in his eyes he wouldn't even label his feelings as love. He likes to view you more as a sweet experiment, an interesting specism he just likes to spend time with whilst poking and tormenting you to gauge all of your reactions. The best you can do is try to endure it without giving him too much of a reaction because the bastard loves seeing you respond strongly to anything he does. Unfortunately you don't react quite as level-headed as you would like to have when he notices the dark ink on your legs and suddenly yanks you towards him, his hands roughly holding your leg, unimpressed by the way you're kicking and hissing at him. Cold fingers brush over the lettering on your skin, mismatched eyes curiously go back and forth between your eyes and the dark ink on your thigh before he asks you what this is.
🔷​He's genuinely interested to hear your reasons why you would decide to have the name of your ex tattooed on your skin and it is hard for you to tell if he is angry at all about it or not. He's definitely mocking and degrading you though as he labels you stupid for doing something like this despite never having known if they would actually stay with you. His fingers are still tracing over the tattoo and when he suddenly falls quiet for a while, you realize that he's thinking about something. Then he suddenly asks you if you just feel better if you have someone's name on your body which successfully makes you feel like you belong to someone. You're offended by his words but he doesn't give you time to answer as a grin suddenly flashes across his face, his grip tightening as he says with an excited tone that he wants to see his name on your skin too. You can't do anything but watch as your leg deforms in a grotesque way before returning to it's normal form. Your previous tattoo has disappeared and instead the kanji signs now read Mahito's name. Do you want more~?
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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months
Note
Shanks w male s/o who's love languages are physical affection & words of affirmation, who's a romantic but laid back. Some fluffy and smutty head canons if that's possible, with verse shanks?
(Might be a bit too specific and if so feel free to ignore completely, as with anything ofc: Reader has ADHD and a lot of history hyper fixations and does martial arts rather than swordsmanship)
Shanks x Male Reader
Headcanons
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I love Shanks, I wanna put him in a box and shake it around and hear him rattle around.
You probably joined the crew later on after running into them many times over the years, maybe you and Shanks already had some kind of relationship without it being anything official. Thinks lotsa flirting and nights spent together whenever your paths cross.
Being a martial artist and running in the same circles as Shanks it means you’re most likely a master in your craft.
Sparring is most likely a type of foreplay for you two, even after you join his crew. The rest of the crew knows to keep at a distance when you two start riling the other up for a spar, since they all know where its leading nowadays.
I can see Shanks as someone who’s love language is also physical affection, so you two are always seen all over each other or hanging on the other. After Shanks lost his arm, it probably caused some issues since he had to get used to not being able to hold you at the same time as he did other stuff.
After losing his arm, you make sure to push him to his limits to make up for the struggle of having to be a skillful fighter with a missing limb. You may or may not reward him for his “achievements” whenever he passes a milestone, meaning he works even harder.
I don’t see Shanks as someone who blushes much, but he always finds himself smiling when you show affection through words of affirmation. It makes his insides do swoops and flips even if you guys have been together for years.
Your words of affirmation truly shine through after he loses his arm, since there’s part of him that probably feels like he is less attractive and desirable, especially since he can’t do the same things as before with only one arm.
This just means you have to show him you still love him all the same, much to the annoyance of your crew and especially Benn, since you and Shanks act like a pair of teenagers in your first relationship at times.
The physical affection bleeds through to the bedroom, resulting in stuff like body worship always being present one way or another. If you start praising and complimenting Shanks, I could see him getting red in the face from just how much you can come up with.
Even with one hand he still touches you all over, and he finds interesting ways to use his haki to keep it all interesting and fresh. He always gets a little too cocky in your opinion when he surprises you with whatever new he’s come up with.
I could imagine him loving your body a lot. As a martial artist, you most likely built muscle very quickly, resulting in stretch marks, unless you somehow have a devilfruit that makes it so you don’t get them.
But imagining you do, he always licks and nibbles at them, snickering when you wack him over the head for biting at your hips or licking at the sides of your pecs. Shanks never apologizes for laying all his love on you, he just shrugs and says he can’t contain himself with someone as irresistible as you.
Speaking of the bedroom, he loves when you ride him. Shanks probably also some kind of captain kink. Seeing as you guys are lovers and see each other as mostly equals, you don’t really call him captain outside of battle, so when you finally do use that title, he always snaps to attention.
To add to the point above. Roleplay. He could walk into his quarters and see you splayed out on his bed in a dramatic pose, wearing some clothes you bought just for this, like a different gi or maybe even a marine uniform.
Lay it on thick whining about the big scary Yonko shanks having captured you, how strong he is and how you’ll do anything for him to show you mercy. It always gets his haki boiling around him, a glint appearing in his eyes before he pounces on you.
But I can also imagine him wanting to be the one playing a role. Maybe he plays the role of a poor pirate who’s washed up on your island and you’ve been taking care of him, so he has to return the favor and thank you.
Or maybe when you both feel more electricity and adrenaline in the air, you play out the roles of rivals who spar and give it your all to dominate the other. You guys are pretty evenly matched if he doesn’t pull out his conquerors haki, so its up in the air whos gonna win, not that Shanks minds.
On a more fluffy end, he takes you on dates. Since you always show how much you love him through your words and actions, he wants to find ways to show you just how much he loves you in return.
Expect him to whisk you off on a date on every island your crew stops at, even if you guys are in a hurry. It can be anything from a full week away at a fancy hotel, to a trip to a bar or even just a walk around the area so you two can spend time together.
When Shanks is drunk, he gets even more clammy. He will hang off you and be more perverted. You’ve had to pull him into an alleyway or back to the ship more than once cuz he wants to climb you right then and there in public, and he’s not shy about falling to his knees to undo your pants to get his mouth on you.
After all this time, you don’t really feel any shame or embarrassment, but you respect others you get him somewhere more private before you let Shanks go at it as he pleases.
I can see him struggling with words at times, so its through these acts that he expresses his love, though he probably finds it lacking compared to your more open way of showing it. But again, you’ll just have to reassure him that you know he loves you, and that you enjoy everything he does for you to show it.
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dark-night-hero · 1 year
Note
i love the imagine u wrote where zhongli would give us up for the world 🥹🥹 and it got me thinking:
what if the reader gets incarnated to the current timeline we have and meets zhongli again? they don’t have the past memories but somehow zhongli feels familiar for them. Z thinks this era is the right time for him to take back the past and do things right so he spends time w them but he somehow finds out that reader has a lover (maybe another playable character). Z begins to asks questions abt their lover and idk how their convo would play out but I just imagine where reader gets a question where they answer with “i would give up the world for them (their lover)” and zhong is just hit with past memories and regrets wishing how he could have done things differently idk i j imagine it rly angsty 😭😭
Sorry to disturb but this has been on my mind i cant stop thinking abt it and i wanted to share 😭😭 Anyways, i look forward to more of ur works!! keep up the good work ur doing great 🥺🫶
: following zhongli (world > you)
Imagine how had Mor- Zhongli tried to get close to you, you who obviously was rather uncomfortable with his presence. And the only key to it was the traveller, the same old traveller that had help Liyue and Monstand and is now away on their venture in Inazuma. That being said, nowadays he had been keeping you company.
"You've been off since the departure of the Traveller." Zhongli spoke as he stand right beside you in the harbor.
"Really? I didn't notice." You have him a small smile.
"But I guess you're right, I've been missing the traveller so bad nowadays." You chuckle.
Imagine, at that very moment, Zhongli hoped he didn't not see you. Not when you're looking like that. Not when you're looking so soft, so lovely, obviously longing for someone, someone who definitely wasn't him.
Imagine the way his heart dropped to his stomach. The way his hand clenched around nothing before realising it. And after a few moments of silence.
"Do you.. Perhaps have feelings for the traveller?"
Imagine the way his voice shaken, obviously did go unnoticed by you. The way his amber iris were shaking, hoping and trying to deny reality as best as he can. He had hope for a chance. He knew this time, nothing can go wrong with the two of you. So he approached you, he tried to get close to you, he really did. But perhaps it was already too late, or was it? Did he even had a chance in this new persona he now possess?
"Honestly, I'm not sure myself." You chuckle.
"Or so I thought before the traveller left. Did you know? The traveller confessed to me, but Traveller also told me that they had so many things going on at the moment so.." As you look beyond the sea, you smile genuinely.
"I was wondering that in the world was the Traveller even thinking confessing and leaving me just like that, but now that I think about it. Its wasn't so bad."
Imagine the way you smile, the way your brush back your hair, trying to fix it upon the harsh breeze that have been messing with your hair earlier.
"If the world wants me dead, if the world see me as a threat, what would you do?"
"Huh?"
"What was the question that suddenly came into mind as soon as te Traveller confessed."
"What was the Traveller reply?"
Imagine the way you laugh, the way you smile genuinely as you recall the answer of that silly, adventurous, kind Traveller reply.
Imagine the way Zhongli kept staring at you, you who looked all refesh and happy, bright as you were before. Oh how much it hurts him he was no longer the reason why.
"How about a new world?"
"What?"
"I'll just have to take you to a new world. As you are already aware I wasn't from this world. All we have to do is to escape and find a new world where no one can take you away from me. Although my twin always somes first, I cannot afford to loose you, you know?"
"..." "(First name)? Are you o-?" "Pfff.."
"Did I say something funny?" "No.. hehe, I'm just.. I don't know." Was it relief that you felt?
Imagine the way you let out a sigh. Thinking about the Traveller only makes you miss them more. Perhaps you should have given the Traveller a reply back then but both of you agreed to put more thought into it and give them a reply upon coming back.
"Escape." It was just one word.
"I see." Zhongli replied, this time he looked away from you.
"If you don't mind me asking." "What is it?"
"If it's for the sake of the world, would you be willing to kill them?"
Imagine the way you once again let out a sigh, as you went quite only for a few moments, you face him and tug his sleeve.
"If that person meant the world for you, isn't that enough reason to be selfish?" You chuckle.
"Isn't a world without your beloved would only felt like a living hell?" You added as you never once look away from him.
"It goes on without saying that it's them over the world. That's how much they matter to me, that's how much I love them."
Imagine the way Zhongli chuckle and the way his lips form a bitter smile afterwards nevertheless, he agreed to you and eventually excuse himself. Leaving you all alone in the harbor, all waiting for the Traveller and not him. But it's alright, one way or another, he deserves this.
Imagine as Zhongli walks away from you, you stare at him and as you do so. He looks so lonely. But then you blink as a harsh breeze passes by, turning your look into the horizon, the sun was peacefully setting. How beautiful yet it left a bitter taste in your mouth in which you soon ignore.
"Escape huh."
Imagine, it's not like he did not think about it. But back then, the best choice was to kill you. But after hearing what you said, he starts to doubt if he did perhaps made a mistake, leaving regrets behind. After all, you were right. A world were he couldn't embrace you when you were right in front of him was like a living hell.
Imagine the way it was making him wonder if he was only a little bit selfish, if only he did not listen to the pleads of his people, his friends. If only he tried to find another way. If only he choses the other way. Would the two of you be happy and still together like you were back then?
He doesn't know, after all, those were the choices he didn't take. And this was the consequence he had to face.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
: I think I strayed away from what was asked. Crap, did I do this right?
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ggomos-maribat · 28 days
Text
Double Lives
Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.
He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.
But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?
He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.
He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.
Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.
“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”
“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—
But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.
Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”
“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.
Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”
“You hit yourself?”
She nodded meekly.
Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.
He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”
She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.
“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”
The silence between them was thick.
“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”
“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”
She cursed in French under her breath.
“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”
She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.
He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.
But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.
***
One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.
“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.
“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”
“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”
Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.
His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”
“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”
“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”
Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.
“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”
He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.
The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.
Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.
Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”
Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”
“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”
“You could . . . tell him that?”
She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”
It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.
“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “
Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”
Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”
Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.
Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”
Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.
It ticked too many boxes.
He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.
“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.
“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”
Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.
Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”
“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.
He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”
“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”
Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.
“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”
“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”
“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”
“No . . .”
“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”
She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”
“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”
She tilted her head. “Huh?”
It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.
He was such an idiot.
“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”
Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.
He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”
He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.
He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.
“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”
Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.
"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.
"Leave us." He glared.
"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.
"Leave. Us."
Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.
"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."
"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."
***
Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.
Of course she was Ladybug.
Of course she was a hero.
So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.
Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.
“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.
(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)
And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.
“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.
Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.
“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.
“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”
“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.
“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.
“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”
“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.
“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.
Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”
“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.
Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.
“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.
“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.
“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.
“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”
“W---What?”
Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.
She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”
Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.
And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.
Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.
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heyhihellosworld · 10 months
Text
𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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Trent Alexander-Arnold x reader
Word count: 6.2k
Summary: Trent would do everything for his daughter even if it's out of his comfort-zone but maybe something, or someone can make it more bearable.
Warnings: Single parent, talk about non-present parents, horses, angst, smut, fluff, dad!trent, young pregnancy (19/20)
Notes: I don't know but this idea just came to me randomly when I was in the stables and I just find it funny to see these out of place parents, especially dads so yeah. Random but fun to write
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Being a single parent wasn't always easy. Trent found it hard to be as present as possible, to spend as much time with his daughter as he wanted and still succeed in his football career. It took a lot of time, effort and help but he managed well, being the best dad possible and still develop in his football. It took a toll on him but he wouldn't trade it for the world.
Since he had been a little kid football had been his life, his goal and the only thing that mattered. For so long it was all that consumed his life, until Ella came along. It was never the plan, never his intention after the one-night stand he'd had but it happened and after a rocky year he had full custody of his baby.
After that his priorities changed because he was no longer alone, he couldn't be selfish anymore, he couldn't think about himself because he had a little girl at home. A little girl relying on him for food, comfort and love and suddenly, she was what mattered the most.
Less to say Trent didn't have a lot of free-time, already juggling more than the time could wrap up but he didn't really miss anything, he felt complete. The only thing he sometimes missed was dating. Going out was nowadays almost impossible, even though his brothers and parents tried to help out and babysit as much as they could he didn't feel fine with leaving her in their responsibility too long knowing they already helped out more than they should. Trent hadn't dated someone in what felt like years nor had he gotten any action regurarly. He didn't mind it, but he could miss it some days. Not only the sex but the social life outside of his work. That's why it felt like a blessing when Ella got older and he had to engage in some of her free-time activities. It wasn't like before of course, this was mothers and fathers with their kids not drunk idiots in a club in some VIP-room. But it was still some kind of social life, some people he could talk to and sometimes hang out with outside of the footballpitch.
For him it was obvious she would play football. It was what he'd anticiapated for a long time but the little girl said no. She didn't wanna play football, she wanted to take horseback-lessons, and as the nice father he was he didn't pressure her into anything but said ok, she would get to take her horse-riding lessons if that was what made her happy.
The four-year old was over-joyed, not Trent. He was as far away from his comfort zone he could imagine when he stepped onto the yard with his estatic daughter. It was muddy and bloody cold but he didn't say anything, just smiled at Ella who blabbered away.
Anything for her
It was all he repeated in his head to get himself to not jump into the car again.
He could hear his teammates laughing in his head as he stood in the small house which apparently was called the club-house. When he had told them about his daughters wish he had got his head nagged in with teasing, but hey, anything for her.
He got informed of how it worked, where the list was, where the different buildings were located, how he handled the horse, that he'd have to fix it up before riding.
He nodded along pretending he understood just fine before walking after Ella as she hurried into the stable. The smell was the first thing that hit him, then the horses. What the fuck was he doing here, why hadn't he asked somebody who knew something about this to take her? Well probably because she had been so excited for him to come along.
"Look, look!" Ella prompted, grinning from ear to ear as she pointed to one of the horses "Which one am I having? Which one daddy?"
Trent shook his head "Uh, what was his name? Mons?" "Monty!"
Trent hummed, nodding as they walked along the line of horses, "Here it is" he told her and she squealed with excitement at the tiny, fat little horse that stood in the box, glaring at them from inside.
Trent stood a few meters away as one of the people who helped out in the stables showed Elle how to tack up. He could feel the stares as he tried to look at what they were doing, trying to memorize but nah, it was too much stuff. Ella almost bounced on the spot as everything was ready, Trent yet to touch the horse that was still glaring at them.
-
Trent sat on the cold tree stand as he watched his daughter wiggle around on the horse. If it wasn't for the biggest smile on her face he would've tried to talk her into something else but he couldn't, and it didn't matter how bitter he felt. He would have to learn and show up, put on his well practiced fake-smile, for her.
-
"Are you really Trent Alexander-Arnold?"
The sound of his name made him look up, taken aback by the mention. He hadn't even thought about being spotted or recognised here which he of course should have.
"Eh, I am" he choke before he even located the woman who spoke but when he did he felt like his choked reply was just right. Before him stood a beautiful woman, she didn't look like a mom, for sure not. She looked about his age, maybe a year or so younger than him.
She was absolutely stunning, her beutiful face held a warm and almost teasing expression. Eyes glimmering, like she was mocking him for his whereabouts.
"Wow" she hummed, sitting down next to him so naturally it almost made him envy her confidence. "So what in the world brings the famous footballer to the stables?" She asked, seemingly unbothered but the smirk she tried to hide leaked through, making him pull a grimace at her.
"Well, my daughter wanted to take horseback-lessons... so I took her to do it, silently hoping she wouldn't like it but now I guess this is my new place to be" he muttered and she chuckled softly "That's sweet of you"
Trent shrugged his shoulders, looking over at her as she sat so casually but still looked so elegant and beautiful. "What about you?" "Well I also happen to have a daughter who loves this stinky hole" she hummed, peeking his interest even more "Really?" he questioned, his eyes full of interest as she hummed "yeah, why?"
"No no I just... you look young to be a mother" he revealed, pulling a smile from her "thank you, I guess. But I was young when I got her" she admitted, making Trent nod along "How old are you?"
"23" she answered shortly making him hum "And what's your name?"
She chuckled, giving him a loopsided smile as she raised one eyebrow "Why are you so interested?"
Trent shrugged "I just am, you're not gonna tell me your name?"
"Y/n, it's y/n" she answered politely, a silence settling over the two as they watched their children try to lead the horse in the right direction.
--
It had been a stressful afternoon for you, hurrying home after work to make it in time to Amelies riding-lesson. But you'd made it, not quite on time but good enough.
Amelies riding lessons was nothing you'd been too big of a fan of, not only because you knew nothing about horses but also because it was darn expensive. But of course you couldn't say no to your precious daughter when she so sweetly asked you, so now you found yourself on this tree bench every week, looking as your daughter held the biggest smile on her face, and it felt worth it.
"I don't mean to be forward" you voiced quietly after a few moments, "It's fine" he hummed, turning his attention to you, bracing himself for what he knew was coming.
He was even more beautiful face to face, so close up, than on the tv-screen and you still had a hard time realizing it was actually the football player sitting next to you on the stable stand.
You had of course read gossip sites and rumors about him and his daughter, some saying he was indeed secretly married and other saying it was a failed one-night stand leading him to be a single parent. You didn't know what it was but you were intrigued.
"Are you married?"
Your question didn't surprise him, his eyes fleeting back from watching the group to you again. "Well-no"
"No?"
He shook his head, curls flying all over the place, your face told him you wanted to know more and he gave in, he knew darn well about all the rumours flying around about him and his daughter, and especially about the mother. "I am not married. Me and Ella's mother is not in any committed relationship. In fact it was a one night stand, ending up in her calling me and telling me she was pregnant and after a long hard time she pulled out, and I am now a single parent"
You hummed "is her mother in the picture at all?"
"Rarely, whenever it suits her" he shrugged, not really understanding why he told you all this. "What about you?" You chuckled bitterly "Nah, I was in a relationship when I got pregnant, but like I said I was young, barely 19 and our relationship was as serious as they are at that age so when things got real he bailed"
"So, do you have any contact?"
"No, I haven't really heard from him since I told him I was pregnant, I forced him to meet her once" you told him bitterly, the air tensing but you didn't mind and neither did he. It was nothing secretive and something you both had moved on from so talking about it felt like a natural part of an introduction because it was a big part of who you were, big part of your families.
When the short lesson was over Ella was bouncing as she ran up to Trent. You stood next to him, waiting for Amelie whilst continuing to small-talk. You couldn't help but smile as he kneeled down to scoop her up in his arms with the brightest smile. "Did you enjoy it princess?"
"I love it! Thank you daddy" he chuckled as he let her down again "Of course sweetie, are you all done now so we can go home and cook?"
You watched as the little girl nodded before looking away, Trent saw it aswell "It's okay, we can stay a little longer" he smiled at her shy look making her face lit up again "I just wanna say bye to my friends" she replied, kissing his cheek before running up the small bump into the stables again.
You felt like pouting at the sweet interaction but stopped from it seeing they were strangers and it would probably put him off. "She is really adorable" you smiled as he stood up again, smiling small.
"Thank you"
"Have you been here for a long time?"
"Here?"
"Have your daughter been riding for a long time?" he corrected making you hum "Well nah not that long, a couple of months" you answered. More than that wasn't said and it felt like a small relief when both of your daughters came running down from the stable giggling, breaking the sudden awkvard tension. You smiled at your daughter, her hapiness making you happy.
"Mommy, did you see?!" she squeeled as she raised her arms as a sign for you to lift her up which you did with a grin. "I did see, you were really good today" you smiled, loving her happy face as she bubbled with hapiness, all giddy.
You put her down when she started to wriggle, packing down all the things in your stable-bag. "Mom"
"Yeah" you hummed "Do you think I can play with Ella some day?"
You looked up, smiling softly as you paused "I'm sure we could fix something some time" you promised making her smile again, breaking away from the small shy energy. You could see that she was tired, even though she was blabbering and bouncing the tiredness started to droop onto her.
When she yawned you chucled, picking her up which she gladly accepted, snuggling into your shoulder.
You waved goodbye at Trent who smiled your way before stropping Amelie in the car to drive home.
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Since that first time in the stables Trent and Ella went every week, every week coming to seek you out, ask you about your week and how you'd been since last time.
What in the beginning was a dreadful day for Trent slowly started to become an enjoyful one. You liked the stables just fine but it didn't get worse by seeing Trent.
Whenever he wasn't there it was a huge disapointment, something you were all to aware of.
He had became a good friend, your daughters spending time outside of the stables as well which prompted you to meet more than once a week.
The attraction was there, always but of course you never went with it since the kids were around and dating with a kid or even more so sleeping around whilst having a kid was not something you found appropriate or fair for her at the moment so you didn't do anything, didn't say anything and if he felt the same way he didn't say it.
You learnt more and more for every time you met and got more and more smitten. You understood why everybody was fawning over him so bad. You'd always liked him on the pitch, enjoyed watching him play but this was something completely different than that.
It was a sunday you realized how smitten you actually was with the guy. He had suggested to meet up for the kids to play so you could watch football together. It was United against City so the expectations where high as you sat in your sofa together. The girls in Amelies room playing.
He had been such a softie, resting his hand on your thigh as you sat closer than appropriate, conversing and laughing about the game. He told you stories about himself, about Ella and it was all so soft.
His eyes had been warm and he had been so sweet, cooking all of you lunch and helping you fix the new coffee table you hadn't put together yet. It had felt so domestic and it had made you realize how much you actuallly liked the guy.
But you hadn't spoken a word about it. It was too complicated to get involved with anyone. No man had gotten introduced to Amelie except from her dad but other than that you had stayed far away from that part of you. Only ever being with someone when Amelie wasn't home.
It was a delicate matter with kids and you didn't want to risk anything, plus, you had no idea if Trent even liked you in the slightest so you just kept your mouth shut, enjoying what was now.
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A rare evening without Amelie or work was spent out. You were still young, still enjoying the thrill of a good club with friends so the bar was the place to go.
Your best friend begged to go to this new open bar, more similar to an night-club than bar but you didn't mind.
The first hour was spent upstairs in one of the more reserved booths, drinking and gossiping, spilling the recent tea and of coure the main topic was Trent.
She was dying to hear about it and you were dying to telll her. "No way he said that" she gasped, clapping her hands "Wow you go y/n, this is honestly wild"
You giggled, swallowing the rest of your drink "I know"
"What's next then? You almost kissed in his car and now?" "Now nothing" you sighed, shaking your head "What do you mean nothing"
"I mean that I haven't heard of him since then"
"Well text him then!" she exclaimed "I dont know" "Oh come on y/n you gotta do it, you are so smitten by him already and you never meet anyone"
"Lets drop this topic for tonight" you decided, sweeping the hard parts under the rug for now.
"Fine, let's go down and get the party started for real" she beamed sensing not to push you further right now.
"Yes please"
She giggled, hooking your arm with hers as you went down the sketchy stair to the club area, the night club you needed.
-
You were deep in your cups which was why you weren't sure if you actually saw who you thought you did or if you were hallucinating
"Y/n! Is that Trent??" your friend gaped making you realize it was actaully Trent and you gigggled, pulling her along with you as you tripped up to him, facing him with a bright smile
He was with a couple of friends, some you would probably recognize if it wasn't for the slight womble in your head
"Y/n??"
Trent eyed you up and down with a giant smirk, sensing your drunkness but he too were deep in his cups, immidiately dragging both you and your friend to their table.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, handing you another drink and pulling you to sit on his lap as there was limited space on the table he and a couple of his friends shared. Your friend immideately hitting it off with some of them.
"I have a rare night out" you grinned
"How convinient, I have to" he revealed, squeezing your thigh where your short dress had ridden up.
"How convinient" you smirked right back at him, your eyes dropping down to his lips a little too often
It wan't long until you couln't resist the urge to kiss him anymore. The clear part of our head would probably stop it right now because it was compliacted, you had Amelie, you couldn't just date around and bring people here and there but the rational part of your brain wasn't working right at the moment. Only wanting some sort of normality, some sort of attention tonight and Trent gladly gave it to you, so you took it.
The soft kiss turned heated, passionate and neeedy, hands grasping desperately at each other as your turned around on his lap. Only when the people around you started to make noises did you break apart for the moment, enjoying the night on his lap, his mouth on yours and hands caressing you whenever the moment allowed it. It was something completely different like this, when the kids wasn't around, when neither of you had to take the parent role, when you both were deep in your cups and didn't hold back. It was something completely different but so relieving.
--
He asked you out, actually asked you out. Not asking for a playdate with the kids, no. Alone, with you and it felt like the nerves would explode. You had met him for months now but it felt different after the bar meeting.
It had been heated, promising more than just parents of two friends. No, that had showed you he wanted more as well. The kisses shared, the touches ad the late, drunken question to come home with him. It all indicated that he wanted more of whatever it was between you.
You read his text again. You had agreeed on dinner in his flat. Neither of you wanted to do something public. Still it felt nerve-wracking. You hadn't been at his place before, always at yours for various reasons.
You hadn't gone home with him that night but what if he wanted something in that way tonight`?
did you want anything like that? Hell yes
How did you act with him, alone? Without being drunk
What do you wear to something like this?
You had no idea
After what felt like forever you finally emerged from your car outside of his complex, wearing sweats and a hoodie as he had told you after asking and making your way inside.
It was darn expensive, exclusive, luxaury celebrity building. You felt hella out of place, not only because of your clothes as you got escorted up to his floor. The secod you saw him though, it felt okay. The smile twinkling in his eyes as he welcomed you inside.
-
"This feels a bit weird" you smiled, sitting on his big comfy sofa. Stretching out your tired body on the comfortable furnitor.
Trent chuckled, pursing his lips "Well"
"Not bad" you promised "But weird, I'm not used to be alone with you. It's always the girls or the horny mums"
At that Trent couldn't contain his laughter "Horny mums?"
"Yeah you should hear them talk" you scoffed, shaking your head at them.
"I do, trust me" he chuckled, plopping down next to you in the sofa with two glasses of wine. "I just choose to ignore them most of the time" he smiled, handing you one of the glasses.
Your eyebrows raised as you turned to him with an unimpressed look "most of the times?"
"Well yeah, I mean I did not ignore you, did I?" he teased, showing his beutiful smile. Your eyes rolled "no but I'm not talking about how hot it would be to be fucked by a footballer or how perfect your back looks to scratch"
"Why don't you though?"
You choke on the wine you sipped, spluttering it out in your lap as you tried to contain yourself with laughter You looked at him deadpan, "you want me to?"
His shoulders shrugged and his face pulled a grimace, smirking at your flustered state "I wouldn't mind it"
"Really?" you hummed, looking at him from under your lashes while sipping your wine. Gaining your confidenece back "Oh Trent, I wanna scratch your back while you fuck me so hard" you ironized with a high-pitched voice.
Trent laughed, raising his glass towards you "Take away the irony and we are home"
You couldn't help but give him a bright smile, leaning your head towards him before straightening up to do your real performance. His eyes followed you amusedly as he watched you clear your throat before you repeated "Oh Trent, I wanna scratch your back while you fuck me so hard" but only this time you tried to make it sound real, moaning out the words with an additional moan afterwards.
Trent's amused face dropped slightly as you smirked at him "Better?" "Mhm" he nodded, giving you an impressed look "Wow, that's actually wild" he hummed causing you to laugh at him, shaking your head at his dramatics "That explains how you women are so good at faking things"
You hummed, nodding "Sure but you can hear a clear difference from an fake moan and a real moan"
Trent hummed, pouting his lips in thought "well sure"
You pursued tour lips "Do you know the differences?" Trent shrugged "Sometimes, I think most of the times I can tell"
"Have someone ever really faked it with you?" you giggled, "Sure" Trent chuckled, internaly palming himself for revealing that to you.
"Why?" "I don't bloody know, I guess they didn't like it?"
You laughed "Oh poor Trent, are you not that talented in bed?"
He only scoffed, giving you a face that only made you laugh harder "I'm sure am talented enough"'
You giggled, crawling closer to him before settling in his lap. It didn't feel weird, you had been in this position before. You wanted to take it one step further, wanted to be with him.
"What if I need proof?" you whispered, your voicie low and all serious as he swallowed, giving you a heated gaze "Well I think we can fix that, don't you think?" "I was hoping" you smirked, immediately atttacking his lips with yours.
His hands fell on your ass, pulling you closer as your hands tangled in his curls.
Screw all the complicated shit, screw all responsibilites. You would fix it all later, talk it all through later. This wasn't bound to change anything, except it was. You felt more than you wanted to admit.
Screw the feelings, you needed him right now and he felt the same.
His hands started to undress you, flinging your hoodie off and you let him but when his hands left your boobs and started to tease your underwear you stopped him.
"Hey" you mumbled, immideately grabbing his attention, brown eyes searching yours for any signs that he'd crossed the line.
You gently stroke his neck, smiling at his attentive expression. "Did I do something?" he asked softly, relief filling his body as you shook your head. "No no, I just-" you began, looking away from his intense gaze
"What?" he murmured, gently angling your face so that you looked at him again.
Your face felt warm as he looked at you "I-I just haven't had sex in.... forever" you admited shyly
"Forever? you do have a kid, right?"
You giggled loving how he tried to ease the embarrsament as your lips graced his shoulder. "A year" you clarified, looking away from his face as he raised his eyebrows in supriese "Really, wow I feel like i've been in a dryspell forever but a year... I would've alredy have cum now"
You giggled again, hiding your embaressment in admitting this to your lext lay but Trent was different. It wasn't just some hook-up, it was Trent. Someone you already had found a liking towards. Someone you felt comfortable with and trusted, someone you didn't feel embarrassed around.
He kept a loving smile on his face, kissing your cheek sweetly before speaking again. "It's nothing, as long as you want this we can take it as slowly as you want to and if you don't, we don't" he mumbled softly against the soft skin of your shoulder.
"I want to, just... take it slow" you breathed out, his head noddding in recognition as he continued his ministrations on your neck and collarbone. Leaving marks like a teenager would on your sensitive skin. It made you giggle, plafully pushing him away but he just gave you his millon-dollar grin and continued, knowing you liked it.
You started to ease into it. Not feeling as stiff anymore as you moved your body against his, making him let out an apreciative sound. "Yeah?" he mumbled, a word so short but still so hot to hear from his lips.
His hand creeped down your sweatpants, gently teasing the hem of your underwear, tripping under the waistband only to crawl back up. It was all a part of his slow show and you started to realise what you had really asked him.
You kissed him sweetly, passionately but soft. Searching his mouth with yours, hands grasping on his broad shoulders, slowly creeping down to finally feel his gorgously sexy abs.
His breath fanned your jaw as he watched your face every movement, only slipping his hand into your panties for real when you made strong eye-contact with him, pleadig with your eyes for him to keep going.
And keep going he did, finally lettig his fingers stroke over your swollen clit. His fingers moved expertisely, knowing exactly where it would feel the best and where to be to drive your mind absolutely crazy and needy.
He was so focused on your face as you let him play with you, enjoying it way to much to ever ask him to stop.
When your mind started to function again you let your hand slip under the waistband of his calvins. Quickly wrapping around his hard dick to give him some attention as well. Too soaked up in your own for quiet some time already.
He didn't complain, his eyes closing briefly and a hard breath escaping his open lips as you stroked him firmly. Trying to focus on him whilst he brought you to the edge, slipping two fingers inside of you.
Your body had gotten completely loose now. Moving on it's own accord, not caring anymore, not controlled by nerves but pleasure.
He could see exactly when your orgasm started to climb to it's top. Not daring to stop as your voice pleaded him not to. Your hand stopped aroud his dick, unable to focus as your orgasm washed over you. The sounds you let out fell deaf on your own ears, not to Trent's who only got harder as your body shook, fingers slowly retreating as you came down. Not wanting to overstimulate you at this state.
"Okay?" he smiled softly, the giggle you let out sounded free and happy "more than okay" you smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips lovingly. Hand resuming it's pace on his hard cock.
Soon enough you tugged at his boxers, wanting them off, wanting him inside of you.
He let you do what you wanted, helping to take off his boxers as he helped you out of your sweatpants. His hands gently cupped your breasts over your brah as you looked at each other. "You sure you want this?" he hummed, needing the consent "Yes, you?" you hummed back softly, "All I wanted to do since I first saw you" he consented, bringing a smile on your lips as he guided his tip to your entrance.
He rubbed oer your sensitive nerves, giving you time to relax again from the initional reaction to feeling his dick against the place you wanted him.
"Relax yeah?" he hummed softly, kissing over your chest, smiling against your skin as you complied. Relaxing your body against the soft material.
He fially pushed the tip in, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch. His lips a nice distraction, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you passionately. Breathing in and swallowing your sounds.
It felt like an enternity until he finally stopped, fully inside you. You panted against his lips, trying to take in the feeling of complete blizz.
Fuck you had missed this
"Move" you breathed, his hips immediately following your words as he slowly started to thrust inside of you. Taking it slow as promised but it felt just as good as anything else. It wasn't about fucking the life out of you, it would be time for that later. No this was about connecting, making eachother feel pleasure and love and wow did he manage well.
You felt like all you could do was moan and whine, your body writhing on the soft cushions as he gave you all he had, rolling his hips into yours, filling you completely with each deep thrust.
He reached places you didn't even remembered you could or knew. It felt like you were floating on a cloud as his mouth found your skin again.
"Fuck I'm sorry" he breathed harshly on your jaw as he kissed his way up
"What?"
"I-I'm gonna cum" he breathed making you giggle out a moan "Fuck do it"
His fingers found your clit, gently stroking the sensitive nub as he quickened his pace slightly. His hips started to jerk as he got closer to his release, soon coming to an complete stop as he came, taking you with him in the blizz.
It felt like you blacked out. Letting your eyes fall close as he slipped of to the bathroom, helping you clean up and change clothes to sleep. He didn't bother making you brush your teeth or go to the toilet. You were already half-asleep so he just crawled down into the bed again. Kissing your shoulder and whispering soft praise for you as you drifted off to sleep in his comfortbale bed and warm embrace.
--
Awkvardness settled in your body as you looked down on the steeming hot cup of coffe he'd just handed you.
He looked as free as a bird, not an ounce of regret or questionmarks visable in the way he moved around the kitchen
You didn't regret it but now the hard conversation were bound to happen, the conversation you'd dreaded since you started to feel something about him. But again, he didn't look cornered at all, he looked the oposite to you and that also made you question this, question his feelings.
It wasn't long until he broke the silence, turning to you with an look you couldn't really decide if it was scolding, angry or amused. Maybe something inbetween it all.
"Why are you awkvard?"
He popped the question, just like that, cornered you even more than you already felt as you squirmed on the tall bar stool you sat on at his kitchen island.
"I'm not" you tried but he only chuckled, giving you a soft smile. "This dosen't have to be as hard as you make it out in your head"
"I dosen't?" you half mocked him but he stood his ground, shaking his head "No, it dosen't. I really like you" he stated, like it was the easiest thing ever to say
"And I think you like me too so what's the problem? Our kids already love eachother so why just not take it slowly, ease into it with them, keep it on the low, see eachother more and then move forward step by step. It dosen't have to be that hard. I'm sure of my feeling, it's not something casual or temporary"
You sat quite for a while "Well when you say it like that it sounds like the easiest thing in the world"
Trent chuckled, coming loser to you "It's not the easiset thing in the world but I like you too much to not give this a try"
You smiled leaning over the island to kiss him gently "I like you" you mumbled against his lips, feeling them curl into a smile against yours.
--
Sundays couldn't get better than this, the sun was out, mood happy and the birds were singing. Trent's hand in yours made a warmth spread in your chest. The girls ran in front of you, playing tag in a fit of giggles.
The soft morning had woken you up in the right mood, waking up alongside Trent was bound to wake you up in a good mood. Early morning sure but the way Tren't had made love to you first thing after waking up made your mood hit the good roof.
"I love this" you hummed, watching up at his beutiful smile under the baseball cap he'd pushed down over his curls, not wanting to be recognised.
You'd made it official, but not public. He had asked you to be his girlfriend one late night in front of the tv, cozied up together on the sofa. It had been only one clear answer on your tongue and since then things had changed for the better.
The worry of affecting your kids had been one that had proved not to be a problem, the girls already concidering the other best friends. Trying to explain had been a bit harder the girls not completely undestanding why they spent so mch time together at eachothers houses but they loved it neitherless.
"Me too" Trent hummed, glancing up at the girls "And I love you" he continued, turning to you again, tilting your head up to gently kiss you, a kiss you couldn't help but to smile into, holding his chin gently as he kissed you softly, intimately.
"Daddy!" "Mommy!"
You broke apart, giggling as you turned to your kids "Why is your daddy snogging my mommy!" Amelie protested but Ella only giggled making Amelie start to.
"Where have you learnt that word?" you asked her pointedly, her eyes blinking up at you "Trent told me it" she defended before they were off again.
"You taught her the word snogging??" you turned to him with a scoff "What?!" he exclaimed "The girls were using the word fucking so I told them not to say that and to say snog instead, choose your word woman!" he defended making you laugh "Okay okay, snogging is much better than fucking"
"Exactly" he smiled in victory as you continued to walk.
You'd never felt this kind of peace before in your life. It had always been something, something unsettling. But right now, right now it felt like peace, like nothing was hard or confusing. Everything was clear and you were happy, happiest you'd ever been.
And it all felt like it was coming together, peace had finally landed.
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cherryfennec · 2 months
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So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-
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Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!
This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:
General headcanons;
This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:
Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.
The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.
Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;
While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.
In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.
Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.
There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.
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In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.
Few bonus headcanons!
I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!
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luaveltarot · 3 months
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Who were you in past life?
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🧭
There are a lot of triangles 🔻, mountain ⛰️ shapes and the repeating pattern of 369 numbers. Oh and also the constant as above so below theme going on in your reading. I really feel your previous life changed and transformed your soul a lot. You got to know the basis alchemy of life and how to work with subtle energies.
You definitely had some dual life going on in past life. Since childhood you were a shy person but I see you being a really genius kid. Like those kids who have abundance of knowledge in their secretive life. I see you being really imaginative. However, you were born in a really privileged lifestyle, probably from there you had access to so much of knowledge. In past life your life was divided among three phases,
First one where you were a curious child and from that curiosity stemmed the hunger for knowledge,
Then in second phase you put all sweat and tears to gain knowledge. I
In third phase, I see a place where you were actually able to see your creation in physical form which was exactly like your visualisation.
But the main part is that you were not the brand ambassador of what you created, basically in nowadays how ai programming works, you don’t know who created it but it’s being used by people. So you created this foundation, which was dream ever since you were a kid and when you were able to see it in physical form, there was no room for your happiness. Also, it could most like be for some of you that you were the idea behind a set up which is probably still followed. Your addition in a project turned the whole scenery of that invention and it probably helped you made a lot of money. If there’s some kind of object which you feel these strange connection to and you don’t know why you feel it, then it’s probably your idea, your invention and your contribution in that object.
You chose to remain behind the curtain, you didn’t want your identity to be revealed but that project was solely yours even if another brand ambassador was able to market it better than you.
In this life, if you have an idea, then don’t wait for any opportunity, don’t procrastinate, I think you should see this reading as a heads up that you can create something again, you can create stability for yourself. May be in this life you have to start from the scratch, but don’t let it stop you or demean you in anyway. If you created a foundation in past life which benefited your lineage then you can again too. You have worked really hard in previous life so in this life you could feel lazy lol.
Also you had a favourite tree in your childhood. It’s so cute but I feel that tree was your shade when you had a galaxy of idea and that tree was instrumental in materialising your idea in physical realm.
🧳
This pile definitely witnessed some war scenario. You had sister or sisters in your previous life. lol it’s funny but I’m getting the pride and prejudice scenario where Elizabeth lived with all her sisters and parents. Tbh your life was very much like that.
OK anyway time to start, I feel that from a very young age you were forced to witness war in your homeland. You were even home schooled at home by your sisters and mother. Everything was really depressive as you were growing up but after a long time probably when you were in your mid teenage years, you were exposed to the free air and beauty of nature. However, I feel you could have lost your father pretty early in life and you were really attached to him, giving me daddy’s girl vibes. Your masculinity was well developed as you learned to handle responsibilities and emotions pretty well from a young age.
Times had toughen you but you developed this mindset to live, even if you were to die the next hour, you chose to live happily. You really have the party girl vibes yk like I can really see this scenario where you are cooking some country side dish, singing and dancing around like you live in a musical show. lol I really think that you would be a Disney lover in this life because you could relate it to your past life unconsciously.
You didn’t sulk looking at duties and how much work was left but I see you having this mindset that everything gets done on its own time and you lived carefree. The house that was once distraught because of the war and your dad’s death from previous life, I see you were able to built it back from the ruins along with your sister.
Your love life could have been a transitional phase of your past life because I see you had an extremely happy life, everything you wished for was in front of you. Although life was smooth and happy after you met your love but I see your main focus was your family because you knew that they saw you through all the ups and downs in life. You knew your family sacrificed their basics for you, you were probably the youngest in your family and was loved by all so your family was everything to you.
In this life you could be really afraid of losing people you love, i see you are born really sensitive in this life and your emotions get the best of you (especially if it’s related to your family) If someone tries to harm your family but it’s just coming out of the wound of losing people in past life.
📓
Funny, I was thinking why is there no love aspect in any reading, was no one really in love in their past lives? Like was no one really a hardcore romantic and yes this pile’s major theme was love in past life.
Let me tell you your past life story, your house was on a beach or close to waters, you were probably the only child of your parents, life was decent and you liked to live on your own terms. You were quiet sexy in previous life because you might have way too many admirers who saw you secretively. You loved water, rain and waterfalls (it also could have carried in this life).
Many people of that town could be against the way you dressed as you could be a rebel but anyway you had a lot of people knocking at your door to tell your parents to rein you. However, you did not care. You could have a witch, or an earth angel in previous life who everyone wanted under their wing but you no one could grasp you and that’s what frustrated them to the core.
So your love story begins with a guy, a guy very different from the way you were brought up. You could have literally fallen for a cowboy whereas you were the city girl. He was your twin flame or soulmate whatever you prefer, you felt too strongly for him everything just disappeared and nothing existed beyond him. He was able to understand you in the most authentic way possible. What at that time was strange, he perceived you as normal and he accepted your strange ways of living. To him, you were his world and I think he was really aggressive about being with you. It’s possible you both ran away after a lot of hurdles of not being accepted and able to live together.
The way your past has been carried to your this life is through your relationship, you probably might have to go through a lot of breakups or betrayals in life to actually reach the one you are destined to be with. You might still crave the relationship like the one you had in your past life but no one ticks the boxes the way he did. You might explore too many options and weigh them in this life but it will take awhile to find him again.
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hana-no-seiiki · 9 months
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Hello! I hope you are doing well, I have an idea, feel free to ignore but I hope you like it.
Yandere Male Deliquent x GN Ex Bully
Like he tried to make them explode and being their “true self”, because in the past, when they were younger, they defend him and he became a delinquent just to see them again.
Sorry if my English is bad.
Bye!
YAN! DELINQUENT OC x GN! EX BULLY! READER
Also your English great anon! Dw about it.
AAAAAAA I’ve meaning to do more Yan! Delinquent recently anon!! You read my mind. For those new to my account. I already have a Yan! Delinquent OC named Mori Ban (see tag: hns.moriban) who was the first to really blow up from my yan! ocs. I always loved this trope with yan stories hhh
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tw/cw: DDNE, mention extreme bullying, assault, and harassment. (brought out my trauma for this one). i imagine reader to be amab/masc for this one but there are no explicits allusions to that.
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Uttering the name [L/N] [Y/N] was enough to strike fear in the hearts of men. Literally and figuratively speaking, your voice was enough to make even the highest of authorities piss their pants. Not only were you capable of destroying a person’s physical body with your very own hands, you were able to dismantle everything from their relationships and reputation to their financial situations in life.
People predicted you to grow up and become an even more menacing, ruthless person. You had the potential, and with the way you were it was simply the natural trajectory.
But like you always did, you broke everyone’s expectations.
You were like the delinquent version Serena Van Der Woodsen. Mindlessly strutting in as if you hadn’t put several companies to bankruptcy because the owner’s kid looked at you the wrong way. Nonchalantly eating your lunch in the same vicinity of your old victims as if you hadn’t shoved their face into the toilet as a way to pass time. Cheerfully waving at the student council president as if you hadn’t constantly blackmailed and assaulted them for several years just so they’d do your homework and projects. No one was safe from you. You had no code. As long as you felt like it, any life could be destroyed.
Standing opposite to your current path was Mori.
He used to be the punching bag of your lesser goons. Known for being weak and poor, only good for his academic excellence.
He grew up to be almost as fearsome than you. Where-areas you were coldblooded, revelling in the pain you brought upon others. He was a lot more morally guided. Sure, his enemies often suffered worse fates physically, but he wasn’t like you in the way he picked his battles. He only brought hell to those that deserved it. Those that hurt other people first.
And then there was the way he treated you.
You technically belonged to the category he dealt with. You ruined dozens, maybe even hundreds or thousands of lives in a whim. You were the devil in a pretty suit of skin. Despite your lack of hostility nowadays, you never apologised or took accountability, never attempted to atone for your mistakes. The only reason why others haven’t confronted you about it was because of fear. They didn’t want to potentially anger you and set off a bomb.
But Mori? Mori could handle you.
After all, he dedicated his whole life to being your equal; serving you, aiding you.
In fact, he was just so disappointed to see you this way. All disgustingly docile and horridly disciplined. What kind of monster tamed you to be like this? Mori chuckled at the thought. No one but him can match you. You must have started behaving yourself for the sake of appearance. All of this was just a façade. If you had truly changed you would have begged for forgiveness to those you’ve wronged. If you had become a better person then you wouldn’t be discreetly glaring at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.
If someone had truly taught you to be a goody-two-shoes he would have killed them ages ago.
“Hey, [N/N]. Sweetheart. How ya doin?” Mori leaned forward. He grew to be quite a ways taller than you and had to lean over to meet you face to face. Much to your chagrin.
“Fine. It’s so nice of you to ask Ban. If you’ll excuse me.” You adeptly moved to the side. You had dealt with this man-child several times throughout the semester already and knew to just avoid him at all costs lest you lose braincells and precious energy talking to him.
However, you could only take two steps before his hands grappled unto your wrist.
“Woah woah woah there. We’re not done yet.”
You don’t look back, and firmly yet calmly stated, “Yes, we are.”
“It’s a little late but we have yet to give you a homecoming party. That wouldn’t be fair for the great [Y/N].”
You turned back. Eyes wide, not of surprise or anger, but from sheer awe of this man’s audacity.
“I know what you want, and you’re not getting it from me right now.” You scowled at his beautiful pink eyes and effortlessly yanked your arm away from him. You didn’t know it yet back then,
but you had already lit the match.
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©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
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flowerandblood · 1 month
Text
ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD
✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙
Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.
I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.
Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.
Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.
Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.
I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).
That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.
Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.
Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.
I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.
Apreciation
@ewanmitchellcrumbs
Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.
On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.
I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!
@targaryenrealnessdarling
Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!
@persephonerinyes
You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!
@zenka96
You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.
@huramuna
I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.
@black-dread & @aegonx
You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!
@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose
Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!
lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit
And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!
Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!
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appleblueberry-pie · 1 month
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OOOHHHH, OKAY HERE MY REQUEST FOR YANDERE MILE MORALES SCENARIO! I imagine him being the type of guy to break into the reader's locker and leave a CD(the song is probably cheesy like Radiohead-creep) while leaving a sticky note like “I really, really, like you. And I wanna get to know you more, can you meet at [insert abandoned building here] ❣️”~secret admirer (*cough* it's Miles *cough*) This freaks the reader out, cuz they've been dealing with this bs for 3 months and the authorities can't do shit, can I request the reader confronting their “secret admirer”? 🥺
N/A: I hope you heard me evilly laugh when I first read this. Boutta spill all of my delusions on this. Also i've never written worse luck than the reader had in this one.
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Be Mine? Yes or No.
It's about ten minutes before first period begins and you've already spent five of them rereading the 20th love letter you've received over the course of a few months. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you continue to find more and more things to worry about in this letter. You'd think that this person would stop pestering you, but they really weren't. At all whatsoever. The same little sweet names they'd compliment you with. The same main idea they had in the previous note continuing into the next one. This has been happening over and over.
And it was so, so sweet when this fiasco first started. When you first opened your locker and it was placed so nicely in the center as if someone carefully placed it there. It was definitely spritzed with some kind of cologne, because no scent from someone just rubs off onto a letter like that. The beautiful envelope it was put in, the paper on the inside. The neat handwriting that was clearly practiced just to put some love onto the paper for you to hopefully absorb. And it worked the first three times, but it just kept getting weirder from there.
The way they wrote to you was extremely genuine, something that was hard to find in relationships nowadays. It really made you want to meet this person. They mixed in casual sweet names in Spanish into the writing in a way that wasn't hard for you to understand at all. They definitely had a crush on you. But then they began mentioning you in ways that seemed to make you borderline uncomfortable. Mentioning your beautiful hair, your eyes, your lips, the way you spoke, how you smelled. How they'd watch you and your friends in the park. Slipping in a few mentions of you walking to and from a corner store nobody in your school but you knew about.
They would write about how they could help you with specific classes that they knew you were struggling with. What foods they theorized you don't like(they were right), your type of man and how they fit that exact description, if not, more. How he knows he's the one you'd want and need. How the two of you are meant to be, he'd love you the way you need to be loved and he cant wait to actually meet you. How he'd bring you to the address of your favorite breakfast spot that no one should know about and he'd buy you that plate you always wanted to get that you couldn't afford. How he'd spoil you and-
All of this tension he built up on his own, which was all fueled by his own delusions, drew you to the conclusion that this nigga needed to be put in his place. You wanted a boyfriend. Not a fucking perverted stalker. Whoever this was, he was taking it too far, and was ultimately scaring you. It took you fifteen of these letters for you to realize that he wasn't actually slipping the letter into the locker between the cracks, but he was putting in the real code of your lock to properly unlock it. How he found it out, you have no idea. You didn't know what this guy was capable of and didn't know if he'd hurt you if you said no. But it had to be done somehow or he'd take shit too far and kidnap you or some crazy shit like that.
None of the school officials would help you because they're pieces of shit. Your friends tell you to bag him like dumbasses, and what the fuck are your parents gonna do? Yell at the dean and stand by your locker all day to wait for the guy?? You were all alone in this. So the most reasonable thing you came up with is to bluntly write to him to meet you after school at the park you and your friends go to often since he knows the spot already.
And quite literally the day after, you sat at the bench at the park after school, and he showed up.
You remember being so damn scared. What if he was big and burly and angry? What if he was one of the popular boys and would record the entire interaction? What if he follows you back home? What does he plan to do once you try to tell him off? You shouldn't have done this. The setting sun wasn't comforting you. The abandoned playground that usually was bustling with squealing kids was just making you more nervous. It was silent and cold today, but your mind just wouldn't shut up. Suddenly, the school uniform you wore wasn't as comfortable and you clutched your backpack closer to your body.
The wind blew gently on your bare knees and you heard someone call out your name. You flinched and felt your heart drop and turned to see the source of the voice, hoping for the worst. There was a boy sitting on a bench right next to yours. He was staring at you. It made you feel....unsettled and something else you couldn't put your finger on. To calm yourself, you listed his characteristics in his head. He was....reasonably attractive. Light brown eyes. Sculpted face. A light Spanish accent to his voice exactly how you'd imagine. Neat braids on his head. But something about his aura messed with you. He wasn't as good as he portrayed himself to be. You didn't want to speak and watched him stand from his spot to sit next to you on your bench. You clutched your bag to your chest as you watched him try to calmly approach you without making you too nervous.
With nervous eyes on him, he sits down next to you, letting a small smile grace his lips. "Hey, ma...how you doin'?" He sounded like he was trying to lure a scared dog into his arms. But it was awkward because he was trying to act normal with his dream girl and it was an actual human being and not a dog. "....fine." You respond. He scratches his nape and averted his eyes for a quick second. He really wanted to know why you wanted to talk to him. You gave no context within your letter, and it was a blessing, nonetheless. You actually responded to him. He predicted that he wouldn't get one for another good three weeks to two months almost. But this must be serious. He prepared himself for all possible scenarios that this could end up being.
"So....why'd you want to meet all of a sudden? It's getting late and I don't want you going home in the dark, you know?" You nod and take a deep breath, scared as fuck for how this could end. "Yeah.....so....I just wanted to tell you that I just- I don't want to be with you." It felt like you had to pull the words out of your throat for him to hear. You saw his face drop and decided to explain before he did anything else. "Like....I don't know you. I just realized that. You know so much about me and about my friends and the places I go to. I don't know a damn thing- Are you stalking me??" You turn to face him and stare into his wide eyes. He almost seemed as if he was caught doing some weird shit. And it was weird.
The silence started to make you angry when you realized he probably has been following you all this time. He shakes his head and sits up. "No...no, I haven't been stalking you at all, ma, I promise. I never want to make you uncomfortable, ever. Where are you getting that?" Oh, so now he's gaslighting you. If you brought all of his envelopes to this meeting, you would've dumped all of the evidence on his lap. You roll your eyes, grab your bag, and stand to leave. He stands at the same time as you when he sees you're trying to leave and stands in your way. "Wait, wait, wait, that's it? You not gon' give me a chance?" "A chance? Nigga, you lost your chance when you started being weird and fucking acting like you wasn't being weird this entire time!"
It was hard to get mad at you or reason with you. You were too pretty to get mad at even when you were nearly yelling in his face. And he had no logical reason to behave the way he was behaving, either. So, he might lose you unless he does something risky. And to risk your trust and love is something he doesn't want on the line.
You watch him watch you leave and he picks up his bag as well. The street lights turn on once it gets dark enough and Miles interrupts you walking away. "I'm not letting you walk home in the dark, Y/n." You flinch at his voice and growl a groan in fuming anger. An older lady passes the both of you and praises the mystery boy for being such a good gentleman and how 'there needs to be more of you out on these streets'. You almost slapped the fuck out of her for even hyping him up. He gives her a beautiful smile and tells her to get home safe, while walking you in the direction of your home.
He turns back to you and almost laughs at the face you're making. "I wonder how your mom would feel about you going home in the dark." "Mind yo fucking business." He happily leaves it there, continuing to walk with you down the street. Maybe this way, he can have more than one excuse to continue walking you home from now on. "Ion even know yo name." You mutter under your breath and Miles smiles at you. "My name is Miles. Great to finally meet you in person, Mami." You scoff and gladly let him scroll on his phone. You tried to speed ahead of him in hopes he'd stay at his slower pace, but he always caught up to you. You inwardly groan, knowing he'd probably make it to your door before you get rid of him.
"Glad to know the name of the person who's been stalking me. Now I can report you officially." You smirk at him and he gives one right back. "Just a name won't cut it, ma." "I got photos." "Where?" He hands you your phone back and you snatch it, realizing he was scrolling on your phone the whole time AND deleted your photo evidence. Before you can shove him into the street for a car to run him over, your mom bursts the door open and eyes the boy next to you. "Girl, you finally brought someone home with you." You didn't even realize you were on your street, better yet, your house. And your mom liked him already??
Your face dropped as you approached the front door. "No, no, no, it's not like that-" "What's your name, sweetie?" Miles steps up to the door and holds out his hand for her to shake, a beaming smile on his face. "My name is Miles Morales, ma'am." She shakes his hand before scrunching her eyebrows. " 'Morales'? You know Rio??" "That's my mamá, right there." Horrifying, how quickly a new relationship between the two bloomed right before your eyes as they continued to converse.
How are you going to get out of this? Your stalker is making great friends with your mom, no one can help because he deleted the evidence, and you would soon find out the next morning at school that your locker was clean of envelopes as well. Nothing was working in your favor and you realized that there was no way to escape. He included himself into your life so easily, when you wanted him out, out, out. You hated this shit, but he seemed to love it, sending you a look of appreciation as you both stepped into your abode.
Miles was so grateful for having you as a part of his life. The stars aligned and allowed you both a chance at beauty and growth. He wouldn't let this opportunity waste away like he had done many times in the past. You were his chance at redemption for all of the things he had done and the things that he planned to do later on. You were finally his.
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