#I very much want to know the words actually
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xx-reverie-xx · 3 days ago
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🖤Sevika HCs🖤
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just random sevika hcs. broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.
i didn��t try very hard while writing this, so my writing is probably subpar here but…yolo. i lowk add more hcs to this everytime i think about her.
men dni. minors dni. men dni. minors dni.
safe for enby lesbians. ♥️
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general
* raging butch lesbian 🧡🤍🩷.
* her place is messy but in an organized chaos sort of way.
* she smells like cigar smoke (in a good way), leather, peppery mahogany, and a hint of something sweet.
* collects bottle caps. i can’t explain it, i just have a feeling she would!!
* has very, very cool, gay aunt vibes!!!
* cat person. just imagine her carrying a sweet little kitty with a sweet little smile on her face.
* actually an excellent cook.
* her carabiner is on the left side. she keeps the basics on it, so just her keys and one or two old key chains she has.
* in a modern au she would be into classic cars and the process of restoring them. her dream car is a 1970 mustang boss.
* on the topic of vehicles i can see her as a biker too. like, imagine seeing her taking off that helmet … swoon! imagine being her backpack … SWOON AGAIN!!!
romantic
* loves hugging you from behind
* if you’re with her at the last drop, she has her arm around you constantly. if it’s not that, she’s having you sit on her lap.
* she isn’t the jealous type at all. she knows that if you’re with her, if she choses you, she has nothing to worry about. if your loyalty to her falters, you’ve got a big storm coming.
* while she isn’t jealous, oh, boy, is she possessive. very big difference between those two. if someone is flirting with you a little too much sevika is at your side in a second flat.
* staring daggers at whoever’s talking to you, with a strong arm wrapped around you.
* this woman is a capital F Flirt. will talk you up one side and down the other like it’s nothing. if you’re just someone she happens to lock eyes with at the bar, you guys could go back and forth with flirting and banter.
* BUT if you and sev have been together for a bit flirting can get her flustered from time to time. you know *just* what to say to her to make her short circuit a little bit. no one can get under her skin the way you can. /pos
* calls you baby. if you’re a femme, she calls you her femme.
* surprisingly soft lips.
* kissing her feels like a dream. slow and sweet and sensual. complete with a warm hand on the side of your face or settled on your hip.
* sevika prefers a partner who can take care of themselves. after all, she’s a busy woman and she can’t always come to your rescue.
* her giving love language is acts is service. need something fixed? in classic butch fashion, she’s absolutely got you covered. do you drink coffee or tea in the morning? she’s got a cup ready for you in the morning, *just* the way you like it. she’ll do anything for you when she’s got the time.
* her receiving love language? words of affirmation. she likes to know that you think she’s *good*. that she’s doing a good job and that you see that.
* would be so fucking whipped for you. you’re on her mind all the time. smiles when little things make her think of you. memorizes every little detail about you every chance she gets.
* most likely wakes up before you and sits there for a little bit just to memorize every tiny little feature about your face. she never wants to forget what you look like.
* she doesn’t have a type. like, at all.
nsfw
* stone top. there. i said it. no questions. no ifs, ands, or buts.
* nipple piercings 🙈.
* oh, she is eating that thang. this woman is a munch. she would know just how to lick or suck you to make you come before you know it. it’s a very personalized experience.
* she learns you inside and out. knows every. little. thing that makes you tick.
* vocal. like, as in, she talks. she’s dirty about it too. all “oh, yeah? you like that baby?”, “be good for me, i know you can take it” or “i know what’s good for you, now fucking take it”. she talks you through it every time.
* weewooweewoo WE GOT A MAN HANDLER OVER HERE!!!! she will move you every which way, any way she needs you to be. if you’re flexible, she absolutely has fun with that.
* has a collection of straps. different strokes for different folks, am i right?
* will sex you with sensual r&b playing in the background.
* touching on one of her receiving love languages being words of affirmation …
* she loves to be praised.
* it’s something she would never explicitly ask you to do. it’s a subtle thing.
* it’s in the way she short circuits when you tell her how good she’s doing, how good she makes you feel. you can tell she likes that, knowing that she is good for you, in the way her hands tremble or her hips stutter or, if she’s going down on you, the way her eyes go soft.
* she will fuck you senseless and then be so, so sweet on you after. makes sure you’re taken care of, that there’s something for you to drink, has towels ready for you incase you don’t feel like showering for a while after you finish. seriously, it’s like two different people.
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okay thats it. i am obsessed with this woman and just wanted to share some headcanons i had for her while i finish up a fic i’m trying to write🎠.
cant believe my first writing here was some random hcs but whatever!!!
requests currently open for multiple fandoms, including arcane :).
dividers by cafekitsune
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poguelandiarafe · 2 days ago
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red carpet reveal | drew starkey
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pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader
warnings - none
summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.
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the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.
"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.
you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."
he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.
as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.
the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.
"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."
he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.
"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"
you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.
"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.
her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."
yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.
before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.
"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.
drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.
his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."
"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.
you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.
"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.
before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.
when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.
"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."
relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.
"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."
you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."
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cutielando · 3 days ago
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brazil, my heart | m.v.
synopsis: in which Max finally makes a statement during the Brazilian GP
a/n: based on this request!
my masterlist
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Your lip was stuck between your teeth as the whole garage waited anxiously for the start of the race.
The weather had kept everyone on their toes ever since the Sprint race had finished, and it seemed to be set on continuing to do so during the race.
Frankly, it wasn't something that you were very much keen on.
You were very tired, having woken up at 5 am to join Max at the track for the early Qualifying session from 7:30, you didn't want to take a nap after Max was done with Qualifying so you could talk to him, but now you were slowly starting to regret it.
Your nerves were stretched thin as you anxiously watched the 5 lights turn on one by one, your heart jumping in your ribcage once they went out and everyone lunged forward.
"Max up to P11" GP's voice suddenly rang through your headset, making you finally let out a sigh you hadn't realized you had been holding.
Max had long ago come to an agreement with his race engineers to do his best to keep you in the loop with regular updates because he knew you sometimes got too nervous or scared to actually watch the race.
The weather really didn't help your nerves, either.
You were always afraid for Max in dry conditions, but seeing him race in this rain and with the low grip level on the track, let's just say you were gonna have a lot more gray hairs by the time the race is over, which feels like a lifetime away.
Wet racing was often known to be one of Max's best conditions for racing, but it also meant more dangerous conditions.
Seeing the spray that the cars would leave behind, just having to imagine having to drive at such high speeds with water in your face, barely able to see anything, desperately trying to keep the car on track. There was no room for any mistake, no matter how little.
You trusted Max and his abilities, but that didn't mean you weren't still gonna be worried out of your ass for him.
"Red flag. Max is coming into the garage" GP's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, your stance immediately perking up at the sound of the news.
You waited until the cars had come into the pitlane to take off your set of headphones and make your way outside of the garage, anxiously waiting to see your boyfriend emerge from his car.
The moment you had laid eyes on him coming towards you, you hurriedly started walking over to him, not caring about any of the engineers or frankly anyone else from his team.
You only cared about making sure he was okay.
Just to ease your mind and worries.
"Hey babe-" Max barely got a word in before you jumped straight into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.
He grunted, but returned the tight hug, careful not to squash your head with his helmet.
You buried your head into his shoulder as best as you could, your heart racing as you finally felt him under your fingertips, okay and all in one piece.
“I’m never joining you at the track for another wet race ever again. I’ve had 4 panic attacks until now” you said, half joking and half telling the truth.
Max laughed, his arms tightening around your waist.
He knew how much you worried about him every time he would get into the car, and he also knew how much you hated the wet races. And he couldn’t blame you, but he was the best in those conditions, so you had nothing to worry about on his end.
“Is it that bad?” he asked, looking at his engineer over your shoulder who gave him a short and worried nod.
“It’s worse. I don’t know how you guys can see the track in front of your eyes from all that spray” you said, slowly letting go of him and stepping back from his arms.
Max pulled up his visor and smiled at you, the crinkles by his eyes telling you everything you needed to know.
“Hey, I’ve got this. Don’t worry about me, I’m driving the race of my life out there and everything is okay. I love you and I’ll come back to you in one piece” he said, holding our face in his gloved hands.
You bit your lip and studied him for a little while before nodding, giving him one last hug before he was pulled away by his engineers to go over data.
Running a hand through your already disheveled hair, you slowly made your way back into the garage, occupying your seat and putting your headphones back on.
Half more of this torture to go.
♡♡♡♡♡
The tears were falling down your cheeks before you could even think about stopping them, before the race was even close to being over.
Even though you couldn't see him, you could imagine what was going on behind Max's helmet, what feelings were going through his mind as he was leading the race towards victory.
Those last few laps seemed like they were taking forever, but then he finally crossed the finish line and took the checkered flag in first position.
You didn't think it was possible, but a new wave of tears started falling down your eyes, sobs racking through your body.
"P1, He's done it, Y/N" GP's voice rung through your ears, but you didn't care for any of it.
The only thing you cared about was seeing Max.
You got up from your chair and put the headphones on a table in front of you, your legs carrying you fast towards where his car was parked.
"Max!" you yelled just as he took off his helmet, his smile radiating as he started walking towards you.
You didn't waste a second before you flung your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as Max squeezed you close.
"I did it" he whispered into your ear, the smile evident in his voice.
You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you clung onto his body.
"I'm so proud of you" you murmured, pressing little kisses on his neck and his cheek.
Nothing could ever beat this feeling, being right there in your arms after winning a much-awaited Grand Prix.
Nothing could be better than that for him.
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pedroscurls · 2 days ago
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just the tip (one-shot)
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summary: you're ready to take the next step with logan, but you're still a bit nervous. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: explicit smut (18+, mdni), inexperienced reader, missionary, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, logan can't control himself, implied age gap (but no mention of age), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: ok, this is yet another one-shot of complete old man logan filth. it never really is just the tip, is it? 🤭 i'm just so obsessed with logan and can't figure out which version of him i want to write on most days lol. honestly, idk where this idea originated from, but here we are... i just have a fantasy of old man logan showing me the ropes ya know... anyway, hope you enjoy! 🙂‍↕️
Logan doesn’t know what he did in this life to ever deserve you. Someone so sweet, so patient, so kind, so pure. He doesn’t even know why someone like you would ever be interested in someone like him. He knows he’s no longer in his prime – his hair now a gray shade, beard overgrown with more gray than brown, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, wrinkles around his face. 
And you… You’re obviously much younger than him – everyone is much younger than him – but your innocence and your purity makes you seem so much younger than you really are, despite being very mature for your age. You smile so sweetly at him, gaze at him with such kind eyes that he doesn’t ever feel deserving of you. 
But you had approached him first. All shy and unlike the rest of the girls in your group the night that you both met. You seemed so out of place, like maybe you had just been dragged along for the night because you were quiet, reserved, even when you had three drinks and one shot of tequila already. 
The rest of your group was loud, outfits way too revealing that everyone had eyes on them. They craved and yearned for the attention, but you were fine with being in the background. This wasn’t usually how you spent most Friday nights, but your friends had convinced you and you owed one of them a favor. 
You weren’t the prettiest in the group and you certainly never got the attention of anyone else when you were with them, but you didn’t mind. Your friends never made you feel less than you were, always the ones to reassure you and give you the confidence that you lacked. 
And that night was no different. They had given you the confidence to approach Logan who was keen on spending just a couple of hours drinking his problems and nightmares away. Alone. 
But when you sat next to him and flashed him that sweet smile paired with those kind eyes, Logan knew he wouldn’t have the strength to turn away from you. He tried to act like he wasn’t interested, tried to act like talking to you was an inconvenience, but it never deterred you. Instead, you remained seated next to him all throughout the night even well past the time the bar was closing. 
“Your friends left you,” Logan told you. 
“That usually is the plan,” you admitted. 
His head tilted. “The plan is to go home with a stranger? Sounds dangerous if you ask me, bub.”
“I don’t usually do this.” 
“Do what?” 
“Go home with a stranger.” 
“Ain’t going home with me,” Logan whispered. “I don’t do this either. Too old for this, actually.”
Logan didn’t miss the way your face fell at his words. All night, he kept asking himself why did you pick him? What was so special about him that you decided to spend the rest of your night talking to him? 
“If I did invite you back to my apartment, would you say yes?” You asked quietly, your kind eyes now filled with hope. 
“Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.” 
Sweetheart. 
You didn’t push him, wanted to respect his decision and his boundaries. So instead, you grabbed a napkin off the bar counter and a sharpie before writing your name and phone number. “Call me?”
“Sure,” Logan lied, staring down at the napkin. 
Once outside the bar, you pulled out your phone. “Well, I better call a Lyft now. It was really great talking with you, Logan.” 
“Let me take you home at least,” he muttered. 
“Oh, you don’t have to.” 
“I’m a driver,” he chuckled lowly. “If you called a Lyft, there’s a high chance that it’d be me who takes you home anyway.” 
“Okay,” you smiled up at him and Logan felt his heart race even faster at the sight. 
And since then, you and Logan had developed a friendship that soon turned physical. Heavy make out sessions and lingering touches, but you hadn’t taken that extra step, hadn’t gone the full distance. 
“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, hands resting on his shoulders as you sit on his lap. 
“For?” Logan asks, head tilting as his strong hands rest on your upper thighs. 
“To have sex with you.” 
Logan clears his throat, can feel his manhood stir beneath his pants. He stares into your eyes, tries to search for any uncertainty but you look determined. You look like you’ve made up your mind. 
“Sweetheart,” he sighs. “You know I’m fine with what we’ve been doing. I don’t want to push you or make you feel like you need to do this for me. We’ll go at your pace.”
“I trust you,” you admit quietly. “I’m not… experienced like other women my age should be, but–”
“Inexperienced or not, I don’t care about that.” Logan lifts you off his lap and sets you on the couch instead, his hands immediately moving to cover the center of his pants. “We don’t have to–”
“I want this, Logan. I want you. All of you.” You bite your lower lip and move to settle on your knees on the couch, staring up at him. “I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t been with many men before.” 
Logan’s eyes narrow at you. “Oh, that so?” He isn’t sure why he feels jealous at your words, imagining other men who've had you in their bed. He’s had a taste of you, knows exactly what to do to get you to come and you’ve done the same to him. And yet, he hasn’t had you in a way these other men have. 
You nod at him, so innocent and pure written on your features. He can sense your nervousness, but he can also smell your arousal. It hits his senses all at once and his gaze darkens. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.” 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Logan smirks. “I’ve seen the way you suck my cock,” he growls. “You ain’t gonna disappoint me.” 
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, feel the wetness begin to settle between your legs, dampening your panties at his words. You loved when he would talk dirty to you; it only excited you even more. “Y– You like that, huh?” 
Logan nods and stands up from the couch, lifting you into his arms without issue. “Of course,” he whispers, taking you to his bedroom as he walks into the room with you in his arms. “I love the fact that you like doing it too.” 
You nod in agreement. “I do love it.” 
Logan grins and sets you on his bed, watching as you prop yourself on your hands with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. And he wants so badly to respond and tell you that he loves you, but he doesn’t. Everyone that he’s ever loved was taken from him, so he doesn’t say anything. 
“I know, you’re like a crazed animal.” Logan chuckles. 
You pout up in his direction and gently reach out to tug on the waistband of his pants, pulling him to stand between your legs as your free hand moves to massage his crotch. 
“See what I mean?” He groans, hardening even further with every graze of your hand. Logan gently takes your hand from him and shakes his head, lifting you further up the bed as he climbs atop of you. “You sure about this?” 
You nod and move your hands to rest on his chest, feeling the muscle flex beneath your fingertips. “Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. “I’m just a bit nervous.” 
Logan’s gaze softens and he looks down at you. You had broken through his hard exterior, had nestled your way into his heart, and even Charles had taken notice. You make him feel young again, like not all of the world’s responsibilities are weighing heavy on his shoulders. With you, he feels free, at peace. You manage to quiet all of the voices in his head, but he’d never tell you that. 
“We’ll go at your pace,” he whispers, moving his hand down your side. 
“I’m just nervous I won’t be able to take all of you,” you admit. 
Logan chuckles and leans back on his knees to gently tug down your shorts and panties. He tosses it carelessly to the side and instantly, he smells your arousal hit his senses. He looks down at your lower half, sex glistening with your wetness. “It’ll fit,” he says lowly, hands moving up your legs. “We’ll make sure it does.” 
“Maybe just start with the tip?” you ask, grabbing the ends of your oversized t-shirt above your head. You lie back down, hair splaying on his pillows as your body is now fully exposed and on full display for him.
Logan nods, pulling off his white tank-top over his head. He stands up momentarily to push down his pants, his manhood now standing at attention and leaking at the tip. He reaches down and strokes himself once, twice, before he settles himself between your legs. 
“Gonna get you ready for me first,” Logan whispers, his large hand splaying over your abdomen as it slides down towards where you need him the most. He hovers above you, lips resting just near your ear as he slowly slides his middle finger past your folds. It slides in with ease, your slickness allowing for easy entry. Logan gently nips on your earlobe, grunting in your ear as you let out a quiet whimper at the intrusion. 
“Logan,” you moan quietly, moving a hand to rest on his large bicep, gripping it tightly. This isn’t the first time Logan’s fingered you, but the anticipation of what’s to come has you clenching around his digit unintentionally. 
“Already so wet f’me,” he whispers into your ear, slowly adding another digit into your depths. Logan ruts against the mattress, trying to find his own relief as he slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. 
You turn your head and bury your face against the crook of his neck, teeth grazing against his skin. “Logan,” you whimper, gasping quietly as you feel another digit enter you. 
“That’s three already, sweetheart,” Logan growls as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. When he feels your teeth gently bite down on his neck, he groans, thrusting his three digits inside of you as he begins to curl his fingers within your depths. “Come f’me, honey.”
“Logan, I–” you shut your eyes tightly and arch your back, your breasts pushing against his chest. Your walls tighten even further around his digits, your hips rolling upwards as you ride out your high. 
Logan smirks and pulls back slowly, looking down at you as your chest heaves up and down. He pulls his fingers from you and looks down at it, his digits glistening with your arousal. He brings it to his lips and sucks your arousal from his fingers, eyes staring into your own once your eyes open. “Ready?” 
You nod, biting your lower lip in anticipation. “Just the tip, okay?”
“Sure, sweetheart.” Logan says, leaning back on his knees as he reaches down to grasp onto the base of his manhood. He leans in closer, running his tip along the length of your sex, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.
You look down between your legs and bite your lower lip. The sight of him holding onto the base of his length as he rubs his tip up and down the length of your sex, until his tip catches against your opening. “Logan…” you whimper, reaching out for him but he just uses his free hand to grab a hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. 
Slowly, Logan pushes his tip into you, feeling your tight walls immediately surround him. He groans and then pulls back, running his tip once more along you. Logan’s grip around your wrists tighten, pressing them further into the mattress as he pushes his tip – and only his tip – inside of your depths. Logan looks down and slowly pushes further into you, hearing you quietly gasp as a few more inches past his tip enter you.
“Logan, wait, baby–” 
Logan growls and then suddenly slams all the way into you in one stroke. The warmth of your walls surround him, so tight and so wet as his lower half presses firmly against yours. “Fuck,” he groans, his now free hand coming up to rest on your cheek. 
You feel your toes curl at the intrusion – nothing Logan did would have ever prepared you for the size of him. You can feel every inch and vein of his length inside of you, throbbing and stretching you. It’s so much, all at once, that when he pulls back only to thrust back in all the way, it causes your eyes to flutter. 
“I said–” you moan. “Start with the tip…”
“Couldn’t help myself,” he groans, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “You feel so good around me, sweetheart.” Logan feels your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking together at his lower back. 
You nod in agreement, tears stinging your eyes. Logan’s so deep and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You keep your eyes open and trained on him. He hadn’t removed his glasses, now staring at you from the top of his glasses. You try to wiggle your hands free, but Logan’s grip just tightens even further. 
“Logan, oh god,” you moan, his slow thrusts now picking up speed. He pulls out to his tip and then slams back into you, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. His hand moves from your cheek to grip your hip, fingertips digging into the meat of your flesh. 
He knows that he probably won’t last any longer, the feeling of your tight walls gripping him, the way he’s easily sliding in and out of your depths due to how wet you are for him. It’s in moments like this where he doesn’t know why you still stick around, why you still continue to choose him. Logan releases your hands and grips your hips in both hands, pulling back to look down at you. Logan continues to thrust into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echo off the walls of his room. 
Your hands immediately move to grip his sheets and he can feel your walls begin to tremble once more, can feel you begin to tighten around his length. Logan groans, eyes moving along your frame, his gaze lingering at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each sharp thrust he delivers. He knows his grip around your hips will leave marks and the thought of you walking around, going about your day with marks of him suddenly makes him feel territorial, suddenly has this desire to make everyone know that you’re his. 
“Logan, I’m gonna–” 
“Yeah, baby,” he groans. “I know, come f’me.” 
And just on cue, your legs tighten even further around his waist as your walls tighten around his length. He can feel you shaking, can feel just a rush of wetness. “Logan!” 
He groans. He’d never get tired of hearing his name escape your lips at the height of pleasure. Logan’s hips stutter, feeling a tightness build in the pit of his stomach as he chases his own release. He releases your hips to rest his hands on the mattress near your head, slamming his hips into yours – once, twice, three times before he releases inside of you, his seed filling you. He should have asked first, should have thought about using a condom, but when he pulls out of you and watches his seed trickle out of you, the guilt disappears immediately. 
You stare up at him and then follow his gaze down between your legs, watching his spend come out of you and drop down onto his mattress, staining his sheets. “You’ll have to wash these now,” you tease, your voice almost breathless. 
“Worth it,” he whispers, leaning down and gently pecking your lips. 
“Was that– Was I okay?” you ask quietly, your hands slowly moving to his hair. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Logan says softly. “We’re gonna be doing more of that.”
 An excitement flickers in your eyes and you grin, leaning up on your elbows to gently capture his lips with your own. “And just so we’re clear… I don’t mind that you came inside.” 
Logan pulls back and looks down at you. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you nod. “I like knowing that I can still feel you.” 
Logan smirks and he can feel himself slowly begin to get hard again. His regenerative powers aren’t all that quick anymore, so he’s surprised that his manhood is stirring awake, yearning for you yet again. 
“Next time we do this,” you begin quietly. “Can I ride you?” 
Logan groans as he moves his hips, his tip slowly brushing against you. He slowly lies on his back and reaches down to stroke himself, eyes running across your frame. “Come on, then.” 
“Wait,” you bite your lower lip. “You’re– How?” 
“You make it easy,” he winks, reaching out to gently tap your hip. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”
You move to straddle his hips and Logan looks down to see his release trickle out of you, dripping onto the hair at his base. He stares up at you, feeling you slide down his length and he watches you tilt your head back, a moan escaping your lips. Logan bites his lower lip, hands moving to your hips as he gazes up at you. Logan knows that you’re way out of his league, that you deserve to be with someone closer to your age, but fuck – he’s going to keep you for as long as you allow. 
Because Logan knows that he’s so deep in his feelings for you that he won’t ever choose to let you go. 
And now, as you’re slowly rocking your hips, he’s going to keep this image in his mind until the day he dies. 
His girl. His.
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 3 days ago
Text
can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 19
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18
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Steve makes a noise of pain, and Eddie pulls back like he’d been burned. With how hot his face feels, he might have been. Eddie holds his fingers up to his own mouth. His lips hurt enough when he touches them that Eddie’s sure it’ll go down in history as the worst kiss in Steve Harrington’s life.
“Um,” Steve says, voice high and wobbly like he’s going to cry.
Eddie’d almost rather die than have Steve see him right now, but he needs to see the look on Steve’s face to ascertain how the hell he can fix this. So, he reaches up, fumbling blindly until the van’s interior light clicks on.
He blinks, momentarily blinded by the spots sparking in his eyes with the sudden light. When he finally blinks them away and catches sight of Steve, his breath catches.
Steve’s pressed hard enough into the van’s door that it looks like he’s trying to become one with it, and his eyes are wide and panicked, fingers clenching the fabric of his jeans over his raised knees. There’s a speck of blood on his mouth and all Eddie can do is hope that it’s his own.
“I am so sorry,” Eddie rushes out, shuffling forward in his seat, hand outstretched to wipe off the blood, but when Steve flinches away, smacking his head against the window, Eddie flings himself back, palms raised in supplication. “I shouldn’t have done that!”
It’s only as something shutters beneath Steve’s wide eyes that Eddie realizes how many wrong ways Steve could be taking what he’s saying. “Not like that!” Eddie continues, words tumbling over each other in his rush to get them out. “It’s just you were saying all that shit like I don’t want to be here? And I panicked, and just sort of…did that?”
Steve doesn’t say anything in response. He just sits, frozen, eyes unfocused. Eddie really wishes he’d say something, if only so Eddie can stem the stream of bullshit flowing from his mouth.
“Only, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and you’re supposed to ask first, right?” he rambles, still panicking. “Oh my god, I just like, attacked you? I’ll take you home if you want, oh my god, why did I—”
“You want to be here?” Steve blessedly interrupts. Eddie takes gasping breaths, eyes laser focused on the little furrow between Steve’s brows. “Wait, that was your first kiss?”
Eddie feels whatever blood had drained from his face rush back as Steve squints across at him. He’s not crowded into the door, but Eddie’s not sure the way he’s leaning toward Eddie with disarming focus is actually much better.
“I mean—well, you see—I’ve just never—” Steve’s still staring at him unerringly so Eddie takes a shuddering breath and finally spits it out. “I’ve never been on a date, kissed anyone, any of that stuff.”
“Oh,” Steve whispers, a look Eddie can’t read dawning across his face.
“Yeah, oh,” Eddie replies, chuckling weakly when Steve just keeps staring. Eddie looks away, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze. “Sorry I blew it like that. I just sort of panicked, you know?”
“Oh,” Steve says again, a different intonation this time, still just as indecipherable to Eddie.
“Yeah, oh,” he mutters again, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve, unable to look at Steve.
It’s silent again—Eddie wishes it was dark, too. He wants to go home, drag his comforter back into his room and hide beneath it until he forgets any of this ever happened. He might be under there for a long, long time.
But then there’s cool fingers against his chin, and when he jerks his gaze toward him, Steve’s golden brown eyes are very, very close to his own, his lips even closer with the way his breaths are puffing against Eddie’s open mouth.
“Can I?” Steve asks, making it clear what he means as he looks down at Eddie’s lips.
Eddie gasps, body aflame with the power of his blush. “You—you want to?” he stutters out. When Steve nods, still holding Eddie’s chin, he responds, “okay, yeah, yeah, okay—” his affirmations only being cut off by the soft press of Steve’s lips.
It’s soft and dry, pressed chastely against Eddie’s own. Eddie shudders, mimicking the minute movements of Steve’s lips against his own. It’s a revelation to feel Steve’s lips on him, even more so when he feels Steve’s mouth quirk up against his own, like he’s happy to be kissing the bumbling fool Eddie’s become.
Eddie laughs, just a little against Steve’s mouth. It turns into a groan halfway up his throat as Steve threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair, using his grip on the back of his head to pull Eddie closer to himself. As Eddie gasps, Steve brushes his tongue into Eddie’s open mouth, barely delving in before pulling it back and sucking Eddie’s bottom lip.
Steve leaves his lips wet as he pulls back. Eddie tries to chase his mouth, drunk off the feeling of it, but Steve’s fingers fist in the back of his hair, holding him in place. The feeling zings through Eddie from his scalp to his palms, that gentle pull hitting him like electrocution as he gasps back to life.
When he opens his eyes, Steve’s still close, smiling smugly at Eddie. It’s all King Steve without the bite. He wants more, hopes Steve keeps him around long enough that he can see it all.
“You said stargazing?” Steve asks, eyes twinkling brighter than any star in the sky.
Eddie laughs, something bright and bubbling filling his chest as he watches Steve laugh along with him, eyes crinkling almost shut, hand still clutched in Eddie’s hair.
He hopes, ardently, desperately, that a second date is on the table, no matter how disastrously this one has gone because right now, in this moment with Steve’s buoyant laughter echoing in his skull? Eddie’s obsessed with him.
“Yeah, big boy, let’s go.”
***
Steve leans against the cold metal of Eddie’s van and watches as Eddie bounces around in the light of the van’s headlights, helplessly endeared as Eddie fusses with the edges of his blanket until it finally lays wrinkle-free in an empty spot in the clearing. He rushes back to the van a few times, holding snacks and drinks behind his back like Steve won’t see them the moment he drops them to one side of the blanket.
He fusses with it all, too, making sure everything’s lined up just so. It’s so unlike Eddie that Steve might think he’s stalling if he wasn’t beaming the entire time. To finish it off, he grabs a smaller folded blanket and lays it perfectly parallel with all the snacks. Only then does he turn back to Steve.
“My lady,” he says, bowing low and gesturing down to the blanket at his feet. “Your chariot awaits.”
Steve laughs and follows his directions to the middle of the blanket, feeling absurdly guilty about his shoes on it. He drops, crossing his legs beneath him. Once he’s rushed over to the van to turn his headlights off, Eddie follows his lead, sitting close enough that their knees just barely overlap.
Steve blinks away the spots in his vision from the change in light before looking up at the sky. It’s bursting with stars, and the moon’s full enough to illuminate their clearing so that Steve can see the shadows of Eddie’s dimples as he smiles at him.
“So, I was thinking we could smoke a little?” Eddie says, pulling a joint out of the pocket of his vest with a raised brow. “But if you don’t want to, we can just relax.”
Steve grabs the joint from Eddie’s hand, letting his fingers brush against Eddie’s before plucking it free and putting it in his own mouth. Eddie stares, mouth parted, hand still held out despite now being empty.
“Well? Got a light?” Steve asks around the blunt, leaning a bit toward Eddie as he comes back to life and fumbles in his vest pocket like he’s on some sort of time crunch.
Eddie flicks his lighter and watches avidly as Steve sucks in until the cherry catches and burns. He inhales, trying for cocksure and suave, but it’s been a long time and instead he coughs a cloud of smoke right in Eddie’s face.
Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie throws his head back and laughs. “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up,” he says around each little, sputtering cough.
“Sorry,” Eddie replies, but he’s still laughing as he plucks the joint from Steve’s fingers and takes a much smoother drag, using his free hand to pat Steve on the back like he’s burping a baby. “Been a while, Stevie?”
Steve’s eyes are streaming, but he feels light enough that he could float away on the smoke as Eddie smiles across at him, joint still in his mouth.
“A bit,” Steve replies, cheeks heating as Eddie’s fingers brush against his lips as he puts the joint back into Steve’s own mouth, tip now wet with Eddie’s spit.
“Nice and easy, now,” Eddie says. Steve follows his instructions, taking a small, shallow breath in, fighting against the spasming of his lungs as he lets the smoke leave his mouth and float up into the night’s sky. He’s rewarded with Eddie’s quiet murmur of, “good boy.”
Then the asshole takes the joint back, raising his eyebrows tauntingly as Steve shudders.
“Shut up,” Steve mutters, no heat behind the words as he flops back on the blanket and looks up at the stars. “Now show me some constellations, Munson.”
Eddie laughs, dropping down so their sides are pressed together, heads close enough that Eddie’s hair tickles Steve’s neck. Eddie takes one more drag before offering it back to Steve. Steve’s enough of a lightweight now, that the few hits he took have him floating a few feet above his body, so he shakes his head. Eddie reaches over to stub it out in the grass without complaint.
“Okay, see those three stars?” Eddie asks, pointing up into the sky. Steve squints, nodding when he finally locates three stars that seem brighter than the ones around them, forming a wonky sort of triangle. “Well, that constellation’s called, How The Fuck Should I Know?”
A barking laugh bursts out of Steve as he turns to stare at Eddie, incredulous. “You planned a stargazing date and don’t know anything about stars?”
“Well, I thought it would be romantic!” Eddie cries, gesturing wildly enough that one of his hands smacks into Steve’s chest lightly.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t even know anything about stars,” he repeats teasingly.
“Well!” Eddie sputters, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders and shaking him around on the blanket as he laughs. “Wayne thought it was a good idea.”
Steve stops laughing, unease curdling in his gut as he asks, “you told your uncle about me?”
Eddie sits up, wriggling his arm from beneath Steve suddenly enough that he flops bonelessly onto the blanket as Eddie peers down at him, eyes wide and manic beneath the moonlight. He latches both hands onto Steve’s shoulders like he’s trying to keep Steve stationary.
“I didn’t mean to!” he blurts out before biting his lip. “It’s just, I tell him everything, and he knew I was upset, and asked what was wrong, and it just spilled out!” One of Eddie’s hands lets go of Steve’s shoulder so he can gesture wildly, like they’re playing charades and he’s depicting a clown pulling a ribbon from his sleeve. “And then he told me that he thought I was gay, can you believe that?”
And honestly? Steve can. But Eddie looks riled enough, and Steve just wants to go back to the calm intimacy of minutes before, so he grabs the hand still propping Eddie up with his own shoulder and yanks it out from under him.
Eddie goes sprawling, landing half on Steve’s chest where he wriggles around like a worm until Steve wraps his arms around him and holds Eddie tight to his own chest. Eddie shutters, then slumps, tucking his head beneath Steve’s chin with a groan.
“First Chrissy, then Jeff, and Robin, now your uncle?” Steve mutters, tightening his hold on Eddie when his words start him squirming again. “Who’s next, the pope?”
“Robin knows?” Eddie asks, breaths puffing against Steve’s sensitive neck. “That explains so much.”
“Hey, Rob’s great,” Steve defends, unsure what Eddie’s weird tone means. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her.”
Eddie snorts, but burrows his face further into Steve’s neck, planting a little kiss on the skin there. “You’re so weird.”
“Coming from you?”
“Oh, baby, you had me beat like three deranged decisions ago,” Eddie teases, but Steve barely hears him, too busy replaying baby, baby, baby, over and over again in his head like a cheap record.
“Shut up,” Steve mutters.
Eddie fights against Steve’s restricting arms until he’s propped up, smirking down at him, his curly hair curtained around them. “I’m serious! First, you write secret letters? And to me of all people?” Eddie crows. Steve wishes desperately that he could think of a way to shut him up before this gets even more embarrassing. “And the Chrissy of it all, Stevie, what the hell were you—mph!”
Eddie goes blessedly silent as Steve plants one on him, opening his mouth just enough to hear Eddie make that delightful groaning noise again. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, pulling Eddie down until his full weight is atop Steve, anchoring his stoned brain back into his body.
Steve bites at Eddie’s lip, once, twice, before soothing it with his tongue and pulling back, high again off the pitiful groan Eddie lets out.
“I finally found a way to shut you up,” he says softly, but he’s smiling and running his hands up and down Eddie’s back as he pants.
Eddie groans, flopping off Steve, body still pressed up against his side. “You’re evil Harrington,” he mutters, reaching out to take Steve’s hand and squeeze.
Steve reaches for Eddie’s chin again, this time pointing it back up to the sky.
“You see those stars there?” he asks, pointing up and to the left of them. “It looks sort of like a weird rectangle with legs and a swirly neck?”
Eddie squints up, gaze unerringly facing the way Steve’s pointing. Steve watches close enough that he sees the moment recognition lights up his eyes. “That’s Leo.”
At that, Eddie whips his head around to stare at Steve suddenly enough that he breaks Steve’s hold on his chin. “Are you kidding?” Eddie demands, but he’s grinning now. “You gave me all that shit, and you ‘know the stars?’” He throws quotations around his words, making it clear that he’s mocking Steve.
For his part, Steve shrugs, still lying down and grinning right back as he replies, “I learned all the star signs to impress girls. And boys, now.”
As Steve reaches out to tuck a dangling lock behind Eddie’s ear, Eddie stares back at him, no longer grinning. “I’m a Leo.”
“I know.”
Eddie whines, “you’re going to kill me,” and drops back to the blanket, curling into Steve’s side.
“Nah,” Steve replies, uprooting Eddie just enough to reach over and grab the folded blanket to drape over the pair of them, cutting the chill in the air by halves. After all, they’ve got a high to wear off before Eddie can drive him home like the gentleman he promised to be. “What fun would that be?”
***
Steve’s asleep—Eddie can tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath Eddie’s head and the way his breath whistles out of his nose. Eddie doesn’t wake him up. This moment feels too precious, this feeling bubbling up in his chest too new to disturb it, especially after the disaster that was the beginning of the night.
It’s just, Eddie’s never been on a date before, and he hadn’t accounted for the way the popcorn would make his hand too slippery with butter to even imagine reaching across the distance between them. And Steve had been very clear: he wanted to hold hands. And it’d all spiraled out of control from there.
He’s never buying popcorn again.
But, now he’s resting against Steve’s side, head propped up on Steve’s chest, hand clutched in his even though it leaves his arm at an awkward angle. And he’s contending with feelings he’s never experienced before.
It’s like there’s moths attacking his heart and lungs before fluttering down into his stomach, tickling his insides, making his whole being damn-near squirm with the foreign feeling.
He feels almost sick with it—is this what everyone means by lovesick? It’s awful, it’s spectacular. He wants to wake Steve up and tell him about the moths and their fluttering, see if he feels it, too.
But, Steve sighs, and even in his sleep, his arms reflexively pull Eddie tighter against himself, and Eddie lets himself bask in the warmth of his embrace until he falls asleep.
He wakes, his entire body cold and shivering convulsively.
It takes another shake to his shoulder to remember where he is and who he’s with. He opens his eyes to Steve’s face hovering over him, his hand shaking Eddie’s shoulder.
“Wha’s it?” Eddie murmurs, reaching up to rub clumsily at his eyes.
“We fell asleep,” Steve replies, voice gravely in a way that hits Eddie right in the gut. “Come on, man. It’s freezing out here.”
Eddie groans, but dutifully drops his hand from his face to grab Steve’s, letting the other boy pull him upright. It takes him a minute to reorient himself with the concept of standing upright.
By the time he’s upright, Steve’s stacked the uneaten snacks back into the bag Eddie’d brought them in, and is halfway through folding up Eddie’s blanket.
“Is it morning?” Eddie asks, squinting up at the sky accusingly as dawn’s light filters through the trees.
Steve laughs. “You’re cute when you first wake up.” Eddie stands there, brain now fully offline, cheeks heating even in the cold. “Now, come on! It’s cold as hell out here.”
The sound of his van’s passenger door slamming as Steve climbs inside sends him running; he climbs into his freezing van and turns the key in the ignition.
“The, uh, heat’s on the fritz,” Eddie mutters, embarrassed, as the van sputters to life. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Steve replies, and when Eddie glances at him, he’s smiling over at Eddie even as he wraps his arms around himself.
It’s a quiet drive, more out of sleepiness this time rather than the awkward journey of the night before. Steve reaches out to play whatever’s in the tape deck—Metallica this time, and he bops his head along to the beat while Eddie taps the steering wheel.
He pulls into the Harrington’s driveway, and puts the van in park and lets the engine idle.
“Well, I had fun,” Steve says, smiling as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride.”
Steve’s already out of the car and walking up to his front door by the time Eddie’s tired brain catches up. He’s out of the van in a shot, forcing his cold legs to move fast as he calls, “wait!”
Steve pauses, hand still on the doorknob, halfway through the door. But he turns around, and waits as Eddie rushes up to him, already breathless from his short dash.
“A gentleman always walks his date to the door,” Eddie says quietly, conscious of listening ears, even this early in the morning.
Steve beams, clearly ready to play along as he curtsies like one of the fine ladies in the movies and replies, “well, you’ve done your gentlemanly duty.”
Eddie shuffles his feet, anxious now about all the other things that usually follow the end of a date. “Uhh—well—can I—?”
Steve waits indulgently while Eddie sputters over all the things he wants, all the things he can’t figure out how to say. It’s okay, Eddie planned for this, so he reaches into his vest’s pocket, and pulls out a folded piece of paper, passing it to Steve like they’re in class.
Steve looks down at it, smile growing as he asks, “what’s this?”
“Open it,” Eddie replies, but he already is, smile only growing as he reads what’s on it.
   Second Date? Yes ☐ No ☐
   First Kiss? Yes ☐ No ☐
“I, uh, didn’t think we’d have already done the whole first kiss thing?” Eddie rambles, the longer Steve spends just staring down at it. “But, it’s customary at the end of a first date, right? I mean not that I have any experience. But, in the movies—”
“I probably have morning breath,” Steve graciously interrupts, holding a hand over his mouth like he’ll be able to contain the stench. But he’s smiling down at the note, Eddie can see the edges of his upturned lips between the gaps in his fingers.
And that’s decidedly not a no, so Eddie crowds Steve until he stumbles through his open front door. Eddie takes a precious moment to close the door to obscure them from view before he cups Steve’s cheeks in the palms of his hands.
“I can’t tell you how much I don’t give a shit about that, Harrington,” Eddie murmurs right before he presses his lips against Steve’s, gently this time because say what you want about Eddie, but he can learn from his mistakes.
It’s slow this time, languid. They’re both tired, and cold, and this date has gone on hours longer than it was ever supposed to. But it’s just as good as their second first kiss. Eddie’s mind goes blank—there’s nothing past the heat of Steve’s lips, and the way those foreign moths squirm within him as arms wrap around his waist. 
Eddie pulls away first this time, pecking Steve’s lips once, twice, thrice, when he groans a complaint. “Now, now, I’m trying to be a gentleman,” Eddie replies, hoping Steve doesn’t notice how breathless he sounds.
Steve pouts, but pulls back, Eddie’s note still clutched in his hand. Eddie stares at it, gut churning much more unpleasantly as he asks, “uh, and the other question?”
“Hold that thought,” Steve replies, and then he just—walks away.
Eddie stands at the threshold of the Harrington’s big, empty house as Steve disappears from view. Luckily for the health of Eddie’s heart, he reappears a few moments later, the cap of a pen in his mouth as he scribbles quickly on the page before handing it back to Eddie.
Eddie looks down at it, smile blooming as he sees the little X’s Steve had written in next to the Yes’s of both questions.
“But it’s my turn to plan the next one,” Steve mutters, and when Eddie tears his gaze away from the note, Steve’s cheeks are dusted with a light pink blush that Eddie has to resist the urge to lick.
“I can live with that,” he replies, damn-near buzzing with excitement.
“I’m going to knock your date out of the park, Munson, just you wait.” Steve’s got a cocky eyebrow raised like he’s challenging Eddie to a competition and knows he’s going to win.
He’s such a bitch; Eddie’s obsessed with him.
“Good luck, Harrington. We both know I knocked this one out of the park.” Steve laughs as Eddie mimes hitting a baseball with a bat with the best form he can manage, trying to appeal to Steve’s jock sensibilities.
“You brought it back around,” Steve concedes.
“But, hey,” Eddie starts, finally breaking eye contact with Steve so he can slip the ring off his finger and hold it out to Steve. “It’s no letterman jacket, but something to remind you of me until our next date?”
Steve’s eyes are wide as he looks down at the ring cradled in Eddie’s palm, and his fingers tremble slightly as he scoops it up. Still, he doesn’t hesitate in trying out fingers until he finds one that fits—the blue gem shines brighter affixed to Steve’s thumb than it ever did on Eddie’s hand.
Steve’s cheeks are darker now; Eddie wants to reach out and see if he can feel the heat through his skin.
Steve swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as he looks down at the ring on his finger with what looks like wonder. “Thank you,” he murmurs quietly before finally looking up and meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Good luck getting my letterman back from Chrissy, though. She’s obsessed with it. I swear I even saw Jeff wearing it the other day.”
“I’ll fight her for it,” Eddie replies, mostly joking as he throws a couple half-hearted punches just to make Steve laugh again.
“You do that,” Steve says, still smiling as he leans forward to peck Eddie’s lips one more time before ushering him out the door. Eddie’s lips tingle the whole drive home.
When he walks through the trailer, Wayne’s on the couch, watching a game of sportsball on the TV, a mug of coffee clutched in his hand. He looks up when Eddie enters, smirking as he catches sight of whatever look is on Eddie’s face.
“Still straight, Ed?” Wayne asks, before taking a sip of his coffee like the meddlesome bastard he is.
“Shut up, old man,” Eddie replies, walking past his laughing uncle to fall into his bed for a few more hours of much-needed sleep.
PART 20
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marmota-b · 2 days ago
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There's this slight problem where I hold it to the same standards on grammar, spelling, punctuation, using the correct word for the intended meaning, clarity, et cetera. And occasionally I manage to annoy someone with it, but the problem is, I even hold my own chat messages to that standard, so it's nothing personal, really, or at least it's the sort of "never asking anyone what I would not do myself" thing. 😛 Just my love for a good use of language, at its core. I hold my own writing to high standards, but I did that ages ago before I started writing fanfic; it just evolved and became more demanding as I get older. So I may stop reading your silly rushed non-proofread thing that rubs that tendency the wrong way, but I'm - hopefully - not going to criticise you for it, unless you actually ask for it. It's just a matter of personal preference, more or less the same way I avoid certain genres of published fiction, too.
The thing is, though, fanfic is always going to be a different sort of creature from original fiction. I don't mind fanfic skipping over things explained in canon, for example, as long as the story itself flows well and doesn't hitch too much on those gaps that an original piece would have to fill. I'm a demanding creature holding her reading up to standards, but those standards differ. Fanfic does not have the same ones published works do, and that's in fact the very nature of the beast.
So... I don't know. I think the short of it is that I'm in the more demanding section of fanfic readership, but that's my problem to navigate, not yours, and if I make it your problem, it probably means my brain is currently doing something I don't want it to.
At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.
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lokissweater · 3 hours ago
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a good man
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{bodyguard!kento nanami x rich girl f!reader}
summary: kento nanami has been your appointed bodyguard since the age of nineteen. his poised, calm, respectable mannerisms having you falling to your knees over him as he was completely different than any of the other boys in your life… for he was a man— taking care of your rowdy party girl behaviors and guiding you with the best advice and judgement he could possibly muster, and you loved him, gutted over the fact that he possibly only thought of you as a spoiled little brat who was useless and incompetent, as a client, and you wanting to be more than just that to him… except you were. for kento had already fallen over his knees for you.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, BRATTY AFFF RICH GIRL SPOILED READER she’s a little baddie o yes, LOWKEEEYYY brat tamer kento MEEOOOWWW, FLUUFFF GALLOOREE!!, slight angst!!, kento is SOOO SOOFTTT AND A LIL GENTLEMAANN, blowjob YUM, oral m receiving, mentions of doing the sex, deep throating, SEDUCTIVE AF READER BRO, cursing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sexual themes, kento is older than reader by three years, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)
word count: 20.3k (i yap i fear)
authors note: I NEED A FUCKING MAN !!!! LIKE KENTO !!! RAAAAHDVSJSBSJSJ this BEAUTIFUL precious concept was a blend and mixy of multiple requests i got for sir nanami blended into one!! :,)) i hope i did you guys justice to those who requested and sent in ideas my loves !!! <3333 AND I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE ITTT JUST AS MUCH AS I DOOO AAHHH !!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO SO SOOO MUCHHH MWAAHHH !! <3333
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“please don’t do that.”
you were undoubtedly the most defiant, stubborn girl kento had ever met.
“and why not?” you pouted. “it’s just for a little bit… and i can’t leave my friend hanging when she’s dealing with such a crisis! she needs my help.”
“your help.” kento repeated. “she needs your help going to a party…. at one in the morning.”
“it’s not a party it’s a small gathering—”
“y/n the hour is ungodly right now…” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “i don’t believe this is very wise.”
you finished applying your blush and stepped back from your large vanity, quickly placing your brush back in it’s holder and grabbing your bottle of perfume, spritzing it.
“it’s fine ken!” you looked up and smiled. “i’ll just be gone for a little while i’ll be back before—”
“i’m sorry—” he held a palm up. “you’ll just be gone? darling, you realize i have to go with you.”
“but whyyy?” you mumbled, slouching dramatically and chucking your perfume bottle on your bed. “two hours! just give me two hours i promise i’ll be back—”
“i’m afraid not.”
“whyyyy!” you whined again, and kento only looked at you with a straight stoic face.
“because it’s my job to go with you and you know that.”
and you’d always been defiant and stubborn, kento having known you since you were a little girl as both his and your father were family friends for years, your upbringing a little different from his as your father was exponentially wealthy and owned various companies and properties, his parents just so happening to work for him and gain special bonds and camaraderie over the time of your growing lives.
though kento was only three years older than you— the gap nothing notable or too drastic, it sure as hell felt like it with how bratty and rebellious you were sometimes on a day to day basis that he had to bare witness of since the age of fourteen.
so why kento thought of you so much when you were the epitome of a spoiled princess… was a little unclear to him.
or maybe he did know exactly why— the reasoning transparently clear, to a fucking T actually… yet his pride and the oath he had set with your father the minute kento started pursuing his desired career after high school, hindered him from ever admitting anything to anyone. especially you.
and because he constantly ignored the way he felt, he was regrettably perplexed every time he was around you— which was literally every single second of every waking day since the moment he received his protection licensing… for kento was your bodyguard, hired by your father who saw his interests in technical protection training, and trusted no other man around his daughter other than kento himself, encouraging him to pursue it as a career in the promise that he would guarantee him a position— one with a pay that would have him set for the rest of his life so long as his precious little daughter was happy and safe.
and kento took the offer without so even as a twitch in his serious expression for two reasons.
the first was the obvious, to solidify proper employment for himself in the career that he’d always paid particular interest in ever since he was a kid— to make a man out of himself and work under prestigious and professional levels of security with someone, your father, who’s orders of authority were equivalent to a president, and a man he admired like no other and dreamed of owning a business that was as fruitful as his.
and the other… was to keep an eye on you.
you were reckless, bratty, naive, troublesome, silly, and never took absolutely anything seriously— all things that worried kento to no end anytime you so even managed to slip from his sharp attentive line of sight since the both of you were young.
and you escaping him happened a little more often than he’d like to admit.
like now.
“y/n—”
kento sharply turned upon hearing your snickering little giggles zooming past him and trailing from down the hall already, him swiftly retrieving his blazer that he had previously set on one of your lounge chairs and settling it over his arm, long and hasty steps striding out of your bedroom and down the hall, him peaking in several dark open doors and hallways of your ginormous mansion of a home on his way— the clicking of your heels and you still giggling serving as a guide for him to find you.
he sighed.
“darling, this isn’t going to change the fact that i still have to accompany you—”
kento rounded the corner and entered one of the many lounge area rooms your father used for business meetings and partnerships, your little head poking out from behind one of the large sofas with a disgruntled pouty look.
“says who?”
“says me.” he took the blazer from his arm and extended it, shaking it out a little and preparing to put it on. “and your father.”
you let out a tiny grumble, getting up off your knees and standing.
“but don’t you wanna go to sleep ken?”
“very much so.”
“so then go! i’m giving you permission heh!” you chirped, sending him a striking smile. “i won’t tell my father! or anyone! you deserve a good nights rest—”
“i’m going with you and that’s final.”
you threw your head back and groaned in frustration, kento finding your tantrum a little amusing as he chuckled and shrugged on his blazer.
“you want to go to this event, yes?”
you funnily slugged on over to his side with dragging steps, eyes to the floor. 
“mhm…”
“so then enough fighting and let’s go.” he stepped to the side and gently ushered you forward. “i’d like to be back before your father wakes up.”
you walked forward and out of the lounge room, the both of you beginning your journey down the hall and towards the grand staircase, kento following behind you as you still internally huffed and puffed about him coming along.
your refutes to kento joining you weren’t because you didn’t like him or anything like that… it was quite the opposite actually.
you were obsessed with that man.
“you scare my friends you know…”
the side of his lip quirked.
“do i?”
“mhm.”
“how so sweetheart?”
“i think it’s your face.” you turned your head around and looked behind you as you walked, hands wringing behind your back with a cute grin. “it’s so serious. and it might be because you’re always staring them down whenever they hang out with me.”
kento calmly walked ahead of you and stepped down a few steps, his hand automatically coming up to assist you and you taking it as you carefully descended down the steps, a gentle act he always did for you.
he pursed his lips. 
“i’m simply doing my job… but i suppose i could lay off a bit.”
you giggled. “no it’s okay ken! i agree. they just don’t know you like i do.”
ever since you practically met him you were obsessed— him being the most poised and respectful piece of hunk to ever grace your life, as kento was so unbelievably different from all of the other straight up boys in your life that deemed themselves to be men, when in reality they didn’t even come close to that whatsoever.
kento nanami was the definition of a man.
and out of everything that you’ve ever received on a silver platter with zero hesitation since technically birth… you wanted him the most.
except you were convinced he wasn’t obsessed with you like you were with him.
because the second kento became your bodyguard at the age of literal nineteen, there wasn’t ever a moment that you remember where he wasn’t with you and pulled to your side like a magnet— guarding and watching your every move and making sure that you were out of harms way no matter what, all things that were automatic and essentially part of the job description.
but you feared that it was just that.
that kento didn’t view you the way you viewed him… that you were just a client to him and that the reason he was always around was because he had to be, and not because he wanted to.
you feared that kento only saw you as some helpless spoiled girl who couldn’t do anything for herself and therefore always needed guidance, and you also feared that because he’d known you since you were little and became your bodyguard when you were sixteen, that he still saw you as a sixteen year old and not the full grown woman that you were now.
the thought was mortifying to you.
and you wondered if kento had ever thought about you as something more than just— a client? maybe.. maybe as a lover?
did he at least view you as a friend?
but more importantly, if he wasn’t your bodyguard… would he stay? 
kento assisted you down to the very last step as you shook away your thoughts, the both of you making your way out through the front glass double doors and over to his car in the open driveway, a sleek and shiny black luxury SUV that you always preferred to sit in rather than your own vehicle as his little passenger princess— always and forever and at times putting up a fight when your father would make you drive instead of kento, spouting some nonsense about how he didn’t want you to forget how to drive and become an incompetent girl.
and you’d each time just scoff and roll your eyes— your father always looking for ways to jab scoldings at you and fuss over every choice you’d make regardless of how big or small it was, believing you to be an incompetent girl anyways and you choosing to ignore him and scowl as you moved behind kento’s big buff frame to hide, him knowing to take over and speak for you whenever you did, as your father listened to him better than he did you ever since you were young.
kento in a way also scolded you often and fussed over your choices… but he was gentle. never raising his voice at you or overstepping any boundaries that made you feel like you were stupid and incapable of things, him always giving you the chance to fix it or refute with an open mind and heart to hear you out… and you loved kento. that was a given.
and your dramatic self deemed that the day kento yelled at you for the first time for whatever reason— was the day that you died.
kento smoothly smiled over what you said with closed lips and opened the car door for you, you getting in and pinching the skirt of your flowy mesh dress to readjust once you were seated, straightening it up over your legs as he rounded over and got in the drivers seat.
“i know a way you can lay off a bit so you don’t scare off my friends tonight ken!”
he started the engine and flickered on the high beams, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness ahead of you.
“and that is..?”
you grinned and leaned over the center console, placing your elbow on it and propping your chin up with your palm, him looking at you expectantly.
so handsome.
“why don’t you stare at me instead of staring at them!”
kento breathed in as he looked away, steering around and out of the driveway while your close proximity and sweet expensive perfume wafted all around him— filling up his every system with everything that was wonderfully you as he tried hard not to let it show.
“i believe i already do just that.” he spoke. “it’s my job to watch you darling.”
“okay then watch me harder.”
he blinked, your wording somehow twinging a sense of provocativeness when it wasn’t anything like that at all, and he wanted to wash his brain out with holy water for thinking of something inappropriate like that with you.
but you leaned even closer, lips by his ear as he turned the steering wheel to make an easy left.
“you’re supposed to have eyes only for me right?”
kento swallowed.
“i’m supposed to have eyes everywhere.”
you playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back a bit. “okay… but maybe for tonight, just me!”
“i’m afraid if it’s just you i won’t be able to watch for any other signs of abnormality—”
“oh my god booo!” you huffed and plopped back down in your seat, arms crossing as you stared ahead. “you’re no fun…”
kento chuckled and lifted his arm, patting your head and you blushing before he placed his hand back on the gear shift, the only thing on your mind now was how much you wanted to stuff his big fingers in your mouth—
“the event is still the one on melrose street, correct?”
your eyes snapped in his direction. “huh? oh yes! yes it is.”
he pursed his lips, an uncertain look on his face as you faltered and furrowed your brows.
“what ken? what’s wrong?”
“is it the same host and organization as last time?”
“umm…” you pulled your phone out from your purse and scrolled to the initial invite you had received through a friend, perfectly manicured nails tapping away. “uh huh! i’m pretty sure… how come?”
“i don’t think it’d be very wise to go… you got extremely inebriated the last time we went.”
you snorted and waved him off. “that’s because it was my friends birthday ken. i was celebrating!”
“you barfed in a bush as soon as we got home.”
“part of the experience!”
kento shook his head and sighed through his nose, a small smile on his face as he peaked over at you from the side.
“rowdy little girl.”
little girl.
and you felt an unpleasant tug at your heart, you pursing your lips and wanting to defy what he called you.
“i was fine after though, was i not?”
you suddenly grabbed his hand and dropped it down on your exposed thigh, his rough hand making contact with your skin as he accidentally jerked the steering wheel and looked at you with bewildered eyes, you only throwing your head back and laughing.
“what?” you spoke in between giggles. “i’m cold! and your hand’s so warm—”
“honey—”
“your job is to take care of me right?” you sweetly smiled, and he felt a flutter of familiar yet confusing affection swirl up in his chest at the sight. “and you’re doing just that!”
kento cleared his throat and nodded, hand staying on your thigh and you giddy on the inside as he held it.
“just know that i have a blanket in the back in case my hand doesn’t suffice.” he mentioned, pulling up to a gated community. “the weather is a bit colder these days.”
your eyes softened, staring at the side of his chiseled jaw and face as he exchanged a few words with the security guard at the front, flashing his ID before the guard gave him the all clear and muttered something over his walkie talkie, the gates slowing sliding open as a result.
“why do you have a blanket in the back ken?” you asked softly and looked down, the tip of your index finger tracing over the prominent veins on the back of his hand.
“for you.” he replied. “you get cold frequently.”
you grinned.
“awww you remembered!—”
you unbuckled your seatbelt, jumped up from your seat, and flung your arms around his neck and practically stuffed his cheek up against your chest as you gushed, kento’s eyes blinking wide eyed and cheeks fucking flaring as he tried to keep steady hands on the wheel and not swerve into the garbage bins in front of the designated mansion, music already blaring through and seeping through the vents of the car as he fumbled to shift the gear into park— stiffening the hell out of his neck and not daring to turn his head even the slightest in your direction in fear of facing your breasts head on.
“i— i appreciate the sentiment sweetheart—”
you pulled back a tiny bit, your arms still tightly locked around his neck but giving him enough space to turn his head to look up at you now, your twinkling hyper eyes shining even through the darkness of the car, kento almost forgetting about the close proximity between the two of you entirely, and also almost forgetting about how this was— regrettably… considered to be inappropriate.
he was your bodyguard, he was supposed to protect you, not think about the way your perfect smile right now was so incredibly soul crushing and doing it in just the right way too— suffocating his entire being as he tried hard again, in real time, to kick those disrespectful thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on what he was meant to be doing and thinking… all of which pertained to his guidance for you, and your safety, most of all.
but you were beautiful. 
there was no denying that.
“you know me best out of anyone ken.”
and he did. he truly truly did.
but to kento, you were that forbidden fruit, cast away up into the highest of branches and dangling off of the tallest most unreachable tree of all— glimmering against the sun, magnificent… waiting to be picked by the person who dared to and claim it as their own without a single worry of the troubles that came with ravishing it.
but claiming and ravishing that forbidden fruit definitely came with it’s dire consequences, and kento nanami was an honorable man. 
if he were to give in to his pulsing desires for you, desires that he couldn’t even exactly make sense of as he continued to manifest total and utter blockage in his mind to prevent those thoughts from seeping through, not only would he deal with the embarrassing repercussions with your father— his boss, but inevitably drag you down with him too, as he knew your father has always been rather harsh with you.
and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down just because he couldn’t control his emotions.
you frowned, tilting your head as you assessed kento’s strange far off look.
“ken?” you asked. “kenny ken?”
“eh?” he blinked rapidly. “oh i’m sorry y/n. i was… thinking.”
“thinking?” 
you let him go and sat back in your seat, the warmth from your arms dissipating and the goosebumps around his neck prominent now by the chilliness of the car.
“thinking about what?” you quipped, smiling again. “about meee?”
night and day.
“i’m afraid not.” he switched off the ignition and held the keys in his hand. “more about how you should be at home and in bed and most definitely not here.”
you pouted, slumping in your seat as you watched him get out of the car and walk over to your side, opening your door for you and offering a hand for you to take.
“but ken i’m helping a friend.” you took his hand and carefully stepped out, him closing the door behind you as you began walking up the sidewalk with kento following close behind you, the car beeping and flashing its lights to signify he had locked it.
“honey, your friend is a grown woman.” you both walked up the steps and continued down the long wide driveway, other guests traveling alongside you towards the mansion. “she doesn’t need moral support from you to attend an event.”
“yeah and i don’t need a bodyguard for every little thing i do, do i?” you countered, slowing down your steps a little and nudging your shoulder with his. “hm?”
he gave you a deadpanned look.
“actually, you do.”
you scoffed. “no i do not.”
the two of you entered through the grand entrance— doors already open and with a set of security guards on each side as you passed them, kento’s already alert senses amplified now that you both were in an unpredictable loud environment such as this, and with way too many people for kento to keep track of besides yourself as he scanned the area, ticking the usual and automatic tiny boxes in his head that indicated the area was alright for the time being.
“if my friend is such a grown woman, then so am i!” you yelled over the music as you walked through the mansion to get to the pool area outside, passing by several caterers and butlers with small appetizer dishes on silver trays or champagne glasses, you taking one as your gaze switched between person to person to see if you could try and find anyone you recognized.
kento shook his head a little.
contrary to your popular belief, you never acted like a grown woman sometimes— constantly rebellious and spontaneous with no hesitations to do anything remotely reckless… and that worried him to absolutely no end as he was living in constant stress over something happening to you— something that he could easily prevent and steer you away from because that’s what he was fucking there for.
but you were always against it, and he didn’t know why when it was simply just protection.
upon entering the pool area, your eyes lit up at the rowdy scene before you— party guests jumping into the pool in full fledged clothing or throwing each other in, the bar at the end of the backyard lively and busy with multiple individuals already drunk off of their minds as they clumsily passed by you and nearly tumbled you over, kento each time quick to grab your shoulders and gently pull you away so they’d just about miss you and continue on.
and the minute he caught sight of your group of friends off to the side of the bubbling jacuzzi right before you did, every single one of them already inebriated and rambunctious, he knew he was in for a night of chasing you around and getting you to sober up a little to refrain yourself from running across the lawn in only your undergarments like the last party you both attended.
“y/n! hi!” one of your friends slightly slurred, the one with the ‘crisis’, reaching behind her to grab a red solo cup of god knows what and passing it to you. “here! i just got some from the kitchen!”
“what is it?” you laughed, on the verge of placing the brim to your lips when kento suddenly nudged you, gently prying it away from your fingers and lifting it up to his nose for inspection, you playfully rolling your eyes as you turned back to your friend.
“dunno!” she shrugged, flashing you a wobbly grin. “it’s a mix of tequila aaanddd… cranberry tonic! yeah!”
“smells awfully strong.” kento muttered in your ear, passing the cup back to you. “just moderate your intake.”
“okay dad.” you mocked, the little side smile on your face never failing to deactivate any further scoldings from him about how you shouldn’t drink that mix and maybe get something else, him deciding to just let you have fun regardless of the work he was about to be put through… as it was hard for kento to say no to you at times anyways.
you brought the rim back to your lips and took a sip, your face immediately scrunching up and gagging.
“the fuck is this?” you placed a hand over your mouth. “tastes nothing like cranberry and just straight vodka—”
you ended up drinking the entire cup and two more fills after that, kento each time gently advising you not to and that you’d had enough, but you only pouting and bratty and defying him with every attempt he made at pulling the drink away from you, a water bottle in hand that he’d snagged from one of the coolers as he swiftly moved through the twists and turns of the crowd to stay caught up with you, a skill he was an expert at at this point considering how often you disappeared from his line of sight.
“sweetheart please—” kento caught you by the waist just as you were about to literally jump in the pool, you giggling and hiccuping as he dragged you away. “let’s take a seat for a moment alright? you need to drink water.” 
“what i need is a teeny weeny kiss from you ken!”
he faltered, eyes dropping to the ground as he continued to half drag and half carry your body to a nearby table away from the commotion by the pool, setting you down on a chair.
“you need water.” he pushed as he knelt down on a knee in front of you, unscrewing the cap. “and i’m forbidding you from attending any events like this for a month.”
“a month?!” you whined, head dramatically falling back in desperation. “but why? what did i do?!”
“i told you to moderate your intake.” he gently grabbed your jaw and brought the water bottle to your lips, carefully holding it up for you to drink. “you were just about to jump in the pool darling and ruin your dress.”
lowering the bottle, your cheeks cutely puffed up with water as you shook your head side to side.
you swallowed. “lies. i was simply walking!”
he fixed the strap of your dress that was halfway sliding off, pulling it back over your shoulder.
“yes into the pool.” he brought the water bottle back to your lips and you drank some more before he lowered it again. “you need to be more careful y/n.”
you pouted. “are you mad at me ken?”
“not mad just quite stressed—”
“pull my dress up and spank me then.”
kento slapped a hand over his eyes and shook his head, cheeks buzzing pink at your ludicrous statement.
“don’t say things like that honey.”
“and why not?” you tilted your head, pearly white teeth glimmering against the warm lights of the backyard as he dropped his hand. “thought you loved me.”
“please sober up.” he breathed out exhaustedly, heart hammering against his fucking chest as he made you drink water again. “before you say something silly again—”
you abruptly pulled back and a few droplets of water dribbled down your chin, kento quick to grab the handkerchief in his suit to pat you dry as you narrowed your eyes.
“you think loving me is silly?” you muttered, a little slur at the end of your sentence.
“of course not darling.” he spoke softly, placing the handkerchief down on the table behind you. “the other thing you said was silly—”
“what— spanking me?” you lit up again. “but it’s hot. and i want it. you should do it once we get to the car—”
kento slapped a hand over your mouth this time, wide frantic eyes looking around to see if anyone had heard your loud lewd blabbering, his face absolutely fucking red at this point as he tried not to vividly imagine what you had just said… and pathetically failing at it too.
“enough. we’re going home. you have brunch with the monroe’s tomorrow.”
“nuh uh!”
you pulled his hand away from your mouth and gripped the edges of your chair, trying to cement yourself to it as he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled and tugged, you laughing when he’d manage to of course— lift you up… but the chair along with it as well.
“let go please.”
“nope!”
“i said let go y/n.”
“if you give me a kiss!”
kento put you back down and sighed.
“you are unbelievably inebriated.”
“and you are unbelievably handsome.” you cheesed as you got closer, your nose brushing against his and kento’s breath catching in his throat, stiffening up.
“darling you don’t know what you’re saying—”
“yes i do.” you spoke, endearingly nudging your nose softly with his and kento’s eyes warming at the act. “you’re gods favorite.”
hopeless hopeless girl…
his eyes sinfully flickered down to your pretty lips, plushy and delightful as they perfectly stretched in such a way to form a striking smile that always sent men to their knees wherever you both went, him baring witness to it all as your bodyguard… and him included— falling to his knees over you.
for kento was just as hopeless as you.
but he was better at ignoring it until it became this puzzling blur in his brain that confused the ever living shit out of him.
“let’s go home.”
his breath fanned against your lips and you softly shook your head.
“kiss me then we’ll go.”
kento’s forehead fell against yours, eyes closing in borderline pain as his big hands came up to cup your cheeks, your own eyes loopily widening with overactive exciting thoughts over what was about to transpire.
if he was about to kiss you… could this mean he didn’t view you as just a client? as a little girl? but a woman?
was he considering it? did you have a chance? was he actually about to fucking kiss you?—
kento sharply breathed in and turned your head slightly to the side, planting his lips hard on your cheek and him unmoving for a moment, you still wide eyed and shocked as your cheek mushed up against the force of his mouth.
he pulled back with a smack! and stood, hand extending out for you to take.
“ready now?”
your fingers slowly came up to the side of your face in a complete daze, because though it wasn’t a full blown kiss, the linger of his lips was still there even after the gesture was long over, your little cheek tingling and warm.
you nodded, taking his hand and attempting to stand but reeling over as you did, your head in complete drunken disarray as kento’s arms quickly shot out and caught you from falling face first on the ground.
“i can’t—” you giggled, hiccuping between each laugh. “i can’t walk ken. and my feet hurt.”
“i’m aware.” he sighed, sitting you back down on the chair and kneeling again, grabbing your ankle.
“what are you doing?” you asked, watching the way he propped up your foot and tugged at the clasp on your heels, carefully sliding it off and beginning to do the same with the other.
“you’re in pain, yes?” he slipped your other heel off and stood, placing your heels on a nearby table before positioning himself next to you, sliding a hand under your knees. “put your arms around my neck sweetheart.”
you did as told, your little heart singing happy drunken tunes over him being such a gentleman and taking care of you in the way that he was, you knowing in the morning you’d regret it and be embarrassed, but choosing to bask in the moment for the meantime and deal with the horrific hungover consequences later.
kento easily lifted you with only one fucking arm supporting you under your knees as you held on, his other hand grabbing your heels before weaving through the other tables and venturing out of the pool area, everybody else too inebriated to care or notice some big bulky man carrying you out through the backyard and inside the mansion, your head resting against his chest.
“are you alright?” he asked, taking a quick glance down at you as he reached the grand entrance to exit. “do you feel ill?”
“no i’m okay.” you smiled. “just thinking about the fact that you’re a cheater.”
he chuckled. “a cheater? in what way?”
kento carefully stepped down the steps and began his walk across the spacious lawn back to the car, you tightening your grip on his neck and wanting him to hold you like this forever.
“the deal was for a kiss.”
“and i gave you one.” he softly smiled, squeezing your thigh a little in emphasis.
“on the cheek!” you retorted. “i wanted one on the mouth.”
kento blushed furiously and looked away, trying to straighten himself up as he walked down the sidewalk with you in his arms.
“you didn’t specify darling.”
“yeaahhh right.” you mumbled, watching the lights of his car flash up ahead as it unlocked by the click of kento’s keys, him coming up to the passenger side and opening the door. “just say you’re repulsed by me.”
he scoffed. “you’re saying silly things again.”
“the proof is in the pudding.”
kento carefully bent and set you down on your seat, placing your heels next to you on the floor and straightening out the skirt of your dress for you. 
“the proof is that you’re drunk. i’m not making any moves like that when you’re not in the correct state of mind.”
you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth. “are you saying you would have? if i was sober? did you bring my water with you? i need to drink it right now where is it—”
“dear god i did not say that.” he closed the door and came round to the other side, an amused little smile on his lips as he got in. “and i’m sorry but i left it behind.”
“kentooo!” you whined. “now how else are you supposed to kiss me?”
he shakily pressed the ‘on’ button for the ignition and looked away, your bold words and requests and moves serving as sheer torment to him as they one after the other kept being thrown at his face, him aware this is how you usually were anyways, but ten times unbelievably worse now that you were intoxicated.
and kento was growing weaker.
“i’m not supposed to do anything.” he backed out of the parking space and sped off. “and it’s nearly four in the morning y/n. you have brunch with the monroe’s at ten and you’re supposed to be up by eight.”
you groaned, head dropping back against the headrest as you crossed your arms. 
“i never wanted to go to that in the first place.” you muttered. “the monroe’s and their girl friends and whoever else is going are a bunch of boring bitches. all they talk about is what their daddies just bought them.”
the yearly monroe brunch was a way for you and the other daughters of your fathers various business partners to bond and maintain connections, some sort of peace treaty between them all so long as their little preppy daughters were kept satisfied and spoiled, your father forcing you to go every year and demanding you to keep friendships with them all, insisting that it would serve beneficial to him with their parents and help nourish the business even more than it already was.
you genuinely liked the monroe daughters and the rest of the girls at first, sixteen year old you seeking their validation and acceptance for years and constantly following after every little thing that they did, afraid of slipping up and landing in their rotten graces as soon as you did anything that would upset them… until they started badmouthing kento.
after that you didn’t give a fuck. 
because anyone that was so willing as to talk bad about such a respectful and kind man as kento to you, was someone who immediately feel in your rotten graces, each and every one of them doing so the minute they started calling him weird for constantly following you around, putting him down for it and saying he should find something better to do than be your bodyguard, and that you didn’t need such high class protection and deeming it unnecessary.
whether they were jealous of the fact that you had a bodyguard and they didn’t was mystery to you, but ever since that day, you despised the yearly monroe brunch, you now aware of who they truly were and realized how blind you were to it just because you were seeking their validation— wanting nothing to do with them from that point forward and begging your father to just let you skip out and that they were better off without you there anyways.
but he never listened.
kento laughed, nodding curtly over what you said. “although true, you still have to go honey.”
“i don’t know why my father can’t just piss off.” you sighed and looked out the window, cars zooming past you as he drove down the freeway. “i really don’t see the point in me going.”
“you’re an important asset.” he spoke. “all of the daughters coming together is tradition.”
“what— to sit there and drink tea and eat muffins? stupidest tradition i’ve ever heard ken.”
he chuckled, reaching over to pat your thigh and your cheeks going pinky as he did so, your drunken mind still somehow clearly recalling when he had his warm hand on you earlier in the car prior to the party.
he went to retract his hand and you quickly stopped him, timidly placing it back on your thigh and settling your hand over his big one, the both of you nervously avoiding eye contact and choosing not to say anything.
kento understood wholeheartedly why you hated going to the monroe brunch so much, for he wasn’t particularly a fan of hearing them talk for hours about who’d they just dumped or what they’d just bought, and he sympathized with you— really, your father although a man he admired for his work ethic and sought after for his approval, was unrighteously stoic with you and always dismissed your thoughts and opinions, the fact saddening kento whenever he witnessed it first hand.
“you’ll be alright.” he spoke up quietly again, noticing the way you were dozing off a little in your seat. “it’s just for brunch. you won’t have to worry about seeing them again until next year.”
“you mean until the dinner party we’re hosting next week.” you sleepily muttered, eyes closed as both of your hands laid over his that was on your thigh, holding it almost as if you were afraid that kento would pull away, his eyes softening at the thought.
“ah, that’s right.” he pulled into your gated community, the security guard already recognizing kento and his car as he merely waved and pressed the button to open the gate, driving through once it did entirely. “i had forgotten.”
“mmm..” you hummed, and he smiled, facing the road again and turning the wheel with every curve and turn of your neighborhood, your dimly lit mansion coming into view eventually and him pulling up to park in your grandiose driveway next to you car, turning off the ignition.
you laid still and pretty in your seat, chest slowly rising and falling as you softly breathed through your nose, you in a drunken slumber as kento quietly got out of the car and went over to your side, opening your door.
“darling.” he whispered, shuffling an arm under your knees and the other on your back. “i need to carry you up, okay? hold onto me please.”
you mumbled incoherently and did so, your arms limply wrapping around his neck as he carried you out of the car and shut the door with a push from his leg, locking his car and the little horn going off again as he hoisted you up, walking up the stone path of your driveway and up to the grand double doors— one of your housekeeping staff already there holding the door open for you both, them also used to your late night partying and shenanigans.
“thank you.” he whispered gratefully as he passed, and they nodded, locking up the house behind you as kento continued on up the staircase and down the spacious hallway, his dress shoes clicking against the shiny flooring and echoing across the silence as he reached your bedroom.
he carefully set you down on your bed once inside, you groggily rubbing your eyes as he stepped back and over to your large vanity, rummaging through your things and drawers while knocking a few nail polishes and perfumes over— various clatterings and kento cursing under his breath over the noise, it making you sleepily giggle.
“what are you looking for ken?” you whispered, one of your eyes tiredly peeking open.
“your— ah… i’m afraid i can’t remember what it’s called—”
he gestured to his face. “you remove your makeup with it sweetheart.”
you closed your eye again. “oh my wipes..? they’re in the bottom drawer to your left.”
he opened the corresponding drawer and reached in, taking out your makeup remover wipes and walking back over to you, peeling open the packing and sliding an individual white wipe out, you lifting a hand out to grab it but stopping once he moved it away from you.
you drowsily looked up at him, about to speak until he took your chin in between his fingers and tilted you up, him bending a bit and lifting his hand to wipe off your makeup, delicately removing it with precision as you tiredly let a small smile grow on your lips.
“i can do it ken it’s okay.”
he shook his head, you closing your eyes as he wiped off your mascara. “oh it’s alright you’re exhausted… and i’ve seen you do it quite a few times.”
you peaked your other eye open, his handsome face so unforgettable against the moonlight streaming through your balcony doors that your little sleepy heart started gushing over literally just who he was, your head leaning into his touch.
“kay…”
he finished wiping the rest of it off after a minute, tossing it into your little bin under your vanity desk before walking over to your walk-in closet and disappearing for a few moments, coming back out with one of your silk baby blue pajama sets in hand, offering it out to you.
“change please.” you sluggishly took the set from him and nodded. “i’ll be just outside—”
“no it’s okay.” you stood and reached for the hem of your dress. “you can stay—”
you pulled up your dress with no fucks given and kento’s eyes bulged open, immediately slapping a hand over his eyes and spinning around with his heart thumping on overdrive, the image of your perfect body adorned with a lacy white bra and panties a hard one to try and— unfortunately— forget for the sake of respecting your privacy and the most intimate parts of yourself.
you giggled and kento shook his head in desperation, placing a hand on his hip.
“don’t do things like that honey.” he scolded gently, a hand still over his eyes as you changed. “at least wait until i avert my attention—”
“you don’t wanna see?” you pouted, finishing by buttoning up your top and tugging at the sleeve of his suit for him to turn around. “it’s all for you ken.”
for— for—
oh dear god help him.
“it’s time to sleep.” he reached around you and pulled back the covers of your bed, you whining. “come on you have brunch with the monroe’s—”
you grumbled and climbed on, dropping yourself on the mattress and shuffling under your various fluffy blankets and sheets, him helping you in pulling them over you until they were settled comfortably by your chest.
“kento.”
“hm?” he hummed, still fiddling with your blankets and basically tucking you in, you finding it incredibly sweet.
“thank you for always taking care of me.”
he stopped, eyes flickering to yours before a soft close lipped smile spread across his face.
“of course darling.” he patted your head. “it’s what i’m here for.”
you knew what he was actually supposed to be there for was only for your protection— to only clock in when you went to events and clock out the second said event was over and done with and you were back home safe and sound.
except kento clocked in the moment your eyes opened for the day, and clocked out as soon as they closed again at night, him by your side through everything in your life and not just for special events, but making sure you had had enough to eat and that you weren’t sick after you spent the day out without a jacket (much to his pestering), that you finished your homework when you were in school and helped you with it as best as he could, and that he was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father yelled at you over something idiotic again— all in all taking care of you like you thought a lover would do for their most treasured thing.
and you hoped you were kento’s most treasured thing.
he was yours, after all.
“i like when you call me darling.” you murmured softly. “and honey. and sweetheart.”
kento swallowed and blushed, thankful that it was sort of dark in your room and that you couldn’t see how pink in the face he actually was over something so minimal.
“i’m glad.” he replied. “you’d let me know if it ever makes you uncomfortable correct?”
you quickly shook your head. “it never makes me uncomfortable ken… ever.”
he nodded, smiling in satisfaction.
“you know what does make me uncomfortable?”
he faltered, brows furrowing in concern.
“what honey?”
“the fact that you still haven’t kissed me on the lips—”
he sharply breathed in and leaned back to stand upright, you giggling and protesting as you flung your arms around his neck before he could, bringing him roughly back down to you and basically pulling him on top of you as kento let out a little oof at the force.
he planted his palms flat on your mattress, trying to lift himself up a bit but unable to due to the astronomical grip you had on him.
“y/n i’m crushing you let me—”
“so?”
“you won’t be able to properly breathe—”
“and? this is the way to go!”
kento laughed into your neck then, managing to lift himself up at least a little bit  to look at you.
“silly girl.” he murmured, and you grinned.
how stunning.
his eyes dangerously switched to your lips, and you noticed this, your heart skipping a small beat in your chest.
“ken.”
“yes?”
“what do you view me as.”
his gaze shifted and locked with yours, his brows pinching together.
“what do you mean honey?”
“like—” you pursed your lips, looking away to the side in embarrassment. “do you see me as just… a client? or just a friend? or like a little girl who doesn’t know how to do anything? or spoiled?”
“a client?” he repeated. “not at all that’s— an awfully wrong term for what you are.”
your head snapped in his direction.
“really?”
he sat up, sitting himself down on the edge of your bed next to you and you scooching over.
“you are spoiled.” he continued, chuckling once he saw the hopeful expression on your face fall and turn sour. “but it doesn’t mean that you’re incapable of doing things… i’ve never once thought of you as such.”
you hummed in acknowledgement, relieved a little.
“do you see me as a woman?” you asked softly.
he looked at you confusedly.
“well— of course. that’s what you are, aren’t you?”
“no i mean—” you sighed, struggling to get the words out as a blush rose to your cheeks. “like a woman. like the kind that makes you want to…”
you faltered, and he waited patiently for you to continue.
“like the kind of woman you’d want to kiss and things… like— like the kind you’d see yourself falling in love with… or am i just— a friend?”
kento froze.
were you still drunk?
“sweetheart it’s not wise to talk about things like this when you’re inebriated please rest—”
“i’m not!” you frantically shook your head. “i sobered up a long time ago…”
dear god.
he can’t answer your question. he can’t answer your question without straight up lying to you just so he can keep that boundary of respect he had for you and your father, to keep the vow kento had with him as your protector, as your guide…
but kento nanami wasn’t a liar.
and kento nanami loved you— a feeling he had idiotically mistaken for confusion when it was actually the plain and utter truth, for what he felt for you was clearer than anything else in his life, and absolutely nothing about it was ever confusing like he swore up and down before that it was.
he’d known…. he’d always known. and that’s perhaps why he took the bodyguard position in the first place without a fret to your father.
to stay by your side. 
to make sure you were safe… with him.
but did he dare?… did he dare to take the pretty forbidden fruit he had tried so hard for years to stay clear from? to leave it glimmering and healthy to flourish on its own no matter how badly he wanted to harvest it and claim for himself?
“i—”
he hesitated, your beady doe eyes looking at him so hopefully that it clenched his heart without mercy.
“i love you…” he spoke softly. “but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice.”
you blinked, unsure if you should take that positively or negatively—
“but i love you still… you know that.”
you looked at him.
“but love in what way?” you responded.
because love you in the way of a friend or family member sure, and you knew kento did at least that much and wouldn’t have spent so much time with you since the ages of eleven and fourteen if otherwise.
but did he love you?
“love… in the way that makes me want to kiss you.” he tugged at the watch on his wrist, referencing to what you had said before. “and love in the way that makes me want to give everything i have to you honey.”
because he has. he’s been.
“really?” you whispered, the wind completely knocked out of your lungs as he picked up his head to look at you, nodding.
kento opened his arms out for you then and you slowly pushed the covers off of you, crawling over and extending your arms to wrap around his abdomen, his around your shoulders while you tucked your face into his chest.
“but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice my love…” he repeated, and you frowned, already feeling your bottom lip wobble.
“why?”
“i have too much respect for you and your father.” he explained, caressing your hair through his fingers. “and i feel that i’m taking advantage of my position by being with you always… that i’m not giving you a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else—”
“i don’t want anyone else.” you cut him off. “i don’t need to explore to figure that out ken.”
you looked up at him, cheek mushed up against him. “you’re with me always too… do you need a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else?”
“no.” he shook his head. “no i absolutely do not.”
you giggled softly. “see? then why would i need one?”
he stared down at you softly, a warm smile that could kill millions if he so let it on his face, and you blushed. 
“i guess you’re right sweetheart.”
kento continued to run his big fingers through your hair, you dozing off a little at the soothing feeling.
“i don’t think your father will be very happy knowing i love you.”
you grumbled. “who cares what that old fart thinks—”
he snorted, lightly tapping your shoulder in a form of scolding, you laughing and holding him tighter.
“he doesn’t have to know for now…” you murmured. “and honestly i didn’t even know you loved me so i think we’re okay—”
“i’m sorry?” he blinked. “i thought i made it somewhat… clear?”
“no!” you countered. “you rejected every move i made ken… you had me basically begging for you.”
his brows pinched in guilt. “i’m sorry my love… i was doing it more for you than for me i— … i didn’t have any ill intent behind it.”
“it’s okay ken.” you smiled cutely, pulling back and propping yourself up by your palms on your mattress, leaning and planting a sweet kiss to his cheek. “though you could’ve just told me you had a begging kink i would’ve understood and begged you to put your fingers in my—”
kento’s eyes widened and he shut you up with a hand over your mouth, your muffled giggles seeping through as he shook his head.
“you have the most vulgar mouth.”
you took his wrist and brought it away, your lips coming next to his ear.
“do something about it then.”
he stilled.
“or do you want me to say what other things i want you to do to me?”
“enough you need to rest—” he placed his hands on your waist with the intent to pull you back and lay you down to sleep… but he just couldn’t do it, his grip shakily tightening instead.
“what i need…” you slid your hands agonizingly slow up his chest and around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his with hot steamy desperate breaths fanning across each others faces. “is to know what it’s like to have your fingers in my mouth ken…”
“darling please—”
“—i wanna lick all over them—”
he respects you... dear god kento respects you he— he couldn’t possibly indulge in—
“—so i can show you how good i can suck and choke on your cock—”
kento mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and swallowed your lips up, you letting out a little squeak of surprise as his other unoccupied arm locked around your waist and pulled you flush against him, him hungrily kissing you and gulping down your humming moans of satisfaction as you hurriedly swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him.
you disconnected from his lips and pulled back, taking his hand and bringing it up to your mouth as you pushed him down on the mattress with your unoccupied one, kento looking up at you so hot and bothered and astonished as you hovered over him, plump precious lips wrapping around his index and ring finger and sensually sliding it deeper and deeper in your mouth across your wet tongue.
“jesus sweetheart…” he breathed out, eyes entirely transfixed on the way your lips closed around his fingers entirely and sucked, your head pumping slowly and you delighted over how hard he felt underneath his slacks over something as just you sucking on his fingers.
“m’gonna suck your dick.” you spoke with a mouthful of his digits, and he sat up a little.
“my darling you don’t— you don’t have to do that it’s alright—”
you slid his fingers out of your mouth and pouted. “but i want to… unless you don’t want me to? or do you prefer someone else to do it—”
“what? stop that.” he shook his head, reaching up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear as you snickered, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. “i’m just worried about keeping you up… you have to get ready in a couple of hours.”
you shrugged, giving him a little grin.
“if it’s you and your big dick keeping me up i could care less.”
you swung your thighs off of his lap and stood momentarily, dropping down to your knees and positioning yourself in between his legs— kento’s rounded eyes and shaky breaths making you laugh a little as you reached for the buckle of his belt, tugging the clasp open and him helping you in slipping it off before reaching in his pants, a trembling but needy hand pulling out his thick cock and slowly pumping it.
kento would’ve never thought you’d be kneeling in between his legs and about to do something he’d only fleetingly thought of, the sinful images quickly grabbed by him before he could materialize them in his head any further and tossed in the trash without looking back, embarrassed and awkwardly flustered that he’d thought of such a thing when you were usually just sitting there on your vanity desk dolling yourself up, or simply speaking to him.
he would’ve never thought that the questions of being something more to you than just your bodyguard, would actually actualize itself, your pretty lips beginning to wrap around the tip of his cock and all he can think about is you and how many days he spent yearning for you, confusing it for uncertainty, and lying to himself before giving in to the fact that he did love you.��
and very much so.
to kento, it was a privilege to undergo this intimate experience given by gracious you, and he only wished he didn’t push it away for so many years and dismissed your obvious attempts.
for what was happening now, was heavenly compared to the fleeting thoughts he had tossed in the trash prior… and your pace was rapid, your deprived little mouth that had begged for him time and time again slurping the ever living soul out of him as he clenched his jaw to keep his moans in, afraid of your father or any of the other housekeeping staff hearing what was filthily happening inside your bedroom— his face crossed over in pleasurable shock at how messy and drooly you were all over his dick without even allowing yourself the chance to breathe as you sucked. 
“honey—” he heaved, swallowing hard as he gathered your hair up into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face. “s—slow down or you’ll choke—”
you didn’t listen, your thighs clenching together to ease yourself a little as you sunk your mouth down and gagged, the tip of his cock lodged in the back of your throat so deliciously that he let out a string of rare curses from his lips.
you slurped back up and pulled off of his length with a pop, you sticking your tongue out and smiling too as you tapped his girthy dick on your tongue teasingly.
“but i want to choke ken…” you placed an open mouthed slutty kiss on the side. “and i’d like you to fuck my mouth too please—”
“shit—” he cleared his throat, his balls feeling awfully full and heavy as you parted your lips and took him in again. “but i could potentially harm you—”
you pulled off again. “kento i don’t care just use me or i’ll make you—”
he quickly gathered your soft hair again, leaned back on an elbow and shoved you back down, bucking his hips up and hitting your uvula so hard that you choked, eyes immediately watering and you moaning as he continued to buck his hips up and force you down, sloshing gurgling noises from you fueling his every being with ecstasy, throwing his head back and eyelids fluttering closed.
“you have such a dirty mouth sweetheart…” he grunted. “where did you learn that from? huh?”
you tried to respond, his relentless hip thrusting and filling your mouth up preventing you from getting anything out besides choking noises and spit, kento picking his head back up and looking at you with half lidded eyes.
“i hope you’re not speaking to other little dumb boys with it and teasing them the way you tease me…”
you tried to shake your head no and get it across that you absolutely were not— that you were physically repulsed by any other man making moves on you in your life because they were never him… but his big cock stuffing your throat was drowning out your every attempt so good that you couldn’t.
“no?” a little dazed smile played at his lips, his abdomen tightening and signifying that he was about to blow his entire pent up load in your mouth. “good honey… i don’t want you wasting your time.”
he bucked his hips up faster and forced your head down deeper, his panting and low grumbling moans making you fucking wild as you tried your best to take all of him and suck him, tears from how many times you gagged and choked trickling down your cheeks and you not giving a single fuck and pushing through, noticing that kento’s increased fidgeting and gasping was a signal that he was probably close.
and when you felt him loosen his grip on your hair, gently trying to pry you off so that he could cum somewhere else and not in your throat like the little gentlemen that he was, you slipped your mouth down again and held yourself firm, lips pumping up and down as you jerked him alongside, kento running a hand down the side of his cheek with eyes screwed tightly shut.
“darling i feel—” he quickly sat up, his expensive watch glistening against the moonlight as his hand fell over his heart. “i feel my release let me—”
he pushed at your shoulders gently and you refused, continuing to suck him off and drive him to the edge until a low gutting groan left his lips, you squeaking as he suddenly went feral and pushed the back of your head down and filled your throat up with his cum, sputtering and swallowing down as much as you could while he held you there.
“christ i’m sorry—” he let you go and you came off of him, gasping for air and with a mix of cum and drool seeping down your chin as you fell back on your ass, your chest moving erratically as you tried to catch your breath.
kento immediately stuffed his dick back in his pants and zipped it up, standing and placing his hands on your waist as he easily picked you up off the floor and sat you down next to him on the bed, concerned tumblings over your well being falling from his mouth as he moved your disheveled hair away from your face.
“honey i can’t tell you how sorry i am…” he dug into his blazer for his handkerchief, your tongue lapping up the excess drool and cum from your chin as his cheeks went red over you doing that, quickly stepping in and wiping off the rest for you.
“sorry for what ken?” you hummed, your voice a little hoarse and making kento feel guiltier as he sighed, placing the handkerchief down on your nightstand. 
“for abusing your throat y/n…” he spoke gently, ushering you to bed again as he pulled back the covers. “i wasn’t letting you breathe—”
“but i liked it.” you countered softly, crawling to your pillow and planting a tender little kiss to his cheek on your way, settling under the covers. “i asked you to use me baby… and you did just that! good job!”
kento playfully rolled his eyes and brought your blankets up to your chest. 
“yes but i could’ve done it in a better way.”
“in a better way likeee…?” you grinned cheekily. “like sex? well then you should’ve just asked ken i can take off my—”
you sat up and began unbuttoning your top, kento’s hands shooting out and stopping you midway as he flusteredly buttoned it back up, you laughing.
“please sweetheart you need to rest… it’s nearly six in the morning.” 
you groaned and plopped back down on your pillow. “just tell the monroe’s i’m sick. i’d rather be getting dicked down by you than drinking tea with them—”
“alright okay okay—” he brought the covers back up over you with an amused shy smile. “we’ll talk more about it tomorrow. at the monroe’s.”
you huffed and turned your back to him, kento chuckling before leaning over and placing a delicate lingering kiss on your temple, a slow sleepy smile crossing your face as you relished in the fact that he actually loved you… your fear of him seeing you as nothing more than just a spoiled brat quickly dissipating from the second he uttered his bashful but yet authentic confession to you.
you had been living in absolute worry and defiance and frustrating yourself when that wasn’t necessary at all— kento was just a gentlemen, a man, and his apprehensions for indulging in something more between the two of you were very real and valid and you understood… but you also didn’t care, your stubborn unruly (and spoiled…) personality and mind wanting nothing more than just kento.
and as long as you had him by your side, you didn’t care about anything else.
even when you had only gotten a total of a solid two hours of sleep before you had to wake up for brunch with the monroe’s, you didn’t care about that either, because kento was the one to wake you up with a soft hand down your back and gentle murmurs that slowly eased you awake, him delivering you a warm cup of hot chocolate for the morning because he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of coffee, and the brunch itself not seeming so bad too since you knew he would be there with you through the entire thing.
your newest biggest fear now though… was what your father would say once you told him. 
“are these alright for your hair miss y/n?”
you stopped applying your eyeshadow for a moment and turned your body from your bench seat, a tray of cute shiny pearled up bobby pins that you had requested a week prior sitting neat and ready for you, you looking up and smiling sweetly at your housekeeping staff.
“oh yes! these are beautiful thank you!”
she nodded. “do you need help putting these in? or are you okay?”
“i’m okay! if anything i’ll just ask kento hehe.”
she laughed softly, nodding again before placing the little tray down next to you on your vanity desk and turning to leave, passing by none other than kento on her way as he peaked through your door, giving your housekeeping staff a polite smile and allowing her to pass through first, making his way inside your bedroom once she left.
a cup of misty tea was carefully placed next to you on your desk, and you moved your eyeshadow brush away from your face again to see kento looking down at you with a kind grin, you instantly brightening up and scooching down on your seat to give him a little room to sit with you.
“you didn’t have to bring me this ken you gave me hot chocolate this morning!”
your voice was still a bit hoarse, and that’s precisely why he brought you hot tea to begin with, sighing softly through his nose as he sat down on the other side of your bench next to you.
“it’s for your throat honey.” you continued to buff out your eyeshadow, putting your brush away upon finishing and reaching up to fiddle with your bun, taking a few strands out for a more candid look. “how do you feel?”
“horny.”
kento went into a coughing fit and you laughed, his reactions to your ludicrousy always being a favorite of yours as you pecked his cheek in apology.
“sorry sorry—” you wiped the gloss you got on him off of his chiseled cheek, picking up your little tea cup after and taking a sip. “i mean it’s true i want your dick inside of me but—”
“darling.”
“okay!” you set your tea cup down, grumpily took some of your pearl bobby pins from the tray and started sticking them in your hair. “just say you don’t want to have sex with me it’s fine—”
“that is not what i’m saying whatsoever—”
“you refused to have sex with me last night and you’re doing it again right now mph!—”
he clasped a big hand over your mouth and pulled your head in, bringing his lips to your ear.
“there is nothing more i want than to be inside of you and split your warm little cunt open.”
your eyes blew out in shock.
“so enough or you won’t get anything.”
he turned your head to make you look at him directly.
“understood?”
you quickly nodded and he lowered his hand, grabbing one of yours and kissing the back of it before standing and walking to the door.
“your father wants you in the car with me in twenty minutes sweetheart. i’ll wait for you there.”
you watched him click the door shut behind him and you spun your head back around to face the mirror, shakily moving some strands away and quickly fanning yourself in attempts at calming the fuck down, completely thrown off course on what you were supposed to do next in your routine as you couldn’t even remember what you had just done.
because kento had a secret feral mouth that you had no idea of until now…
and you wanted to hear it again.
eventually you gathered yourself up and finished putting the rest of your bobby pin pearls in your hair, shuffling around in your room looking for your chiffon scarf and breathing out a sigh of relief once you caught sight of its pastel yellow fabric, it matching your summery dress and peeking from your bed as you snatched it and looped it around your upper arms, the fabric falling gracefully in a low curve behind you as you grabbed your clutch and made your way out the door.
you didn’t know what energy to exactly expect from the car ride as you trotted down your staircase and out to his car, but you were nonetheless still surprised to see that kento carried on like he didn’t just mutter in your ear that he wanted to rearrange your guts and for you to behave, you blinking at him and perplexed when he just went on about what things to pay attention to that the girls say because he knew your father would ask you about that certain topic later, not wanting you to get in trouble and an earful if you weren’t able to answer his questions about it.
and you were still perplexed upon arriving at the monroe’s estate— their place of living the only thing you really liked about the yearly brunches, as they lived in what looked like a fucking english regency palace instead of the plain modernized mansions you were accustomed to (including yours…), and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous each year of the wonderful labyrinth the monroe’s had, an endless place of history and poise that your own home very much lacked.
but as beautiful as their estate was, it still didn’t make up for the absolute bitches that lived in it.
“ken if you turn this car around right now i will do absolutely anything you say and not go to any parties for two months instead of just one—”
he chuckled loudly and shook his head, rounding their grand water fountain that sat extravagantly in the center of their lawn outside, other sleek cars already parked in the front. 
“it’s just for a couple of hours honey.” he parked the car and turned off the ignition, unbuckling his seatbelt. “just indulge in their conversations for a while… and listen please. your father will ask about it later.”
kento shut the door as you unbuckled your seatbelt, him opening yours on the other side while offering a hand out for you to take, you gratefully doing so with a stoic dead look on your face as you kept your eyes locked to the grabble below.
“they don’t even like me.” you muttered, flashing a polite smile to the housekeeping staff that was waiting up ahead, walking up the steps. “the monroe’s and their girl friends don’t even like each other they’re all just a bunch of fake—”
“y/n!”
both of your heads shot up just as you entered the estate, the eldest of the monroe sisters trodding up to you with a smile.
“it’s good to see you!” her eyes shifted to kento. “and with nanami. of course.”
bitch.
“mhm! yup!” you exchanged polite hugs and stepped back. “are the rest of the girls here?”
“yes they just got here actually! they’re all out in the garden with my sisters i was just heading there now!”
“great! i’ll see myself then, you go on ahead.” you tightly smiled, and she shrugged, bidding you a ‘see you later’ before disappearing off into the depths of her home, you slowly turning around with a stressed out twitch in your eye but faltering when kento wasn’t behind you like you thought he was.
you spun around as your tried to look for him, gaze scanning the area to find him and stopping once you did, your brows furrowing in confusion upon seeing him at the other side of the corridor staring at something.
you slowly began walking down, eyes locked on what he was looking at and it making you stop in your tracks next to him once you got close enough to see.
the wall in front of you was littered with wedding photos of the monroe sisters parents and the generations before— the ceremony, cake cutting, pictures of their first dance, and singular portraits of various brides and grooms on their wedding days scattered about with smiles on their faces, all things kento was just staring at without any indication in his expression that could let you know as to what was going on in his head.
“ken?” you asked softly, and he looked to you.
“oh i’m sorry.” he glanced at his watch. “are you ready to head out into the garden?”
“y—yeah…” your eyes switched back to the wall ahead.
“you were looking at their wedding photos?” you smiled. “they’re cute huh? i look at them too every time we come.”
he nodded, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you away from the wall and towards the garden again. 
“i was only curious.” he spoke. “there’s an awful large amount of them.”
you snorted in agreement and continued walking, feeling like there was something he was thinking about and not telling you— you looking to the garden entrance ahead then deciding to take a peek at kento again through the corner of your eye, you suddenly finding him looking over his shoulder at the portraits still.
and your eyes softened.
you slowed down and reached up, gently turning his head from the portraits to you.
“what’s wrong ken?” you looked over at the wall and back to him. “why do you keep looking at the pictures?”
“oh— i didn’t realize.” he readjusted his yellow lensed sunglasses and continued ushering you on with a hand on your back. 
you frowned.
“ken you wouldn’t look at something for that long without any reasoning behind it…”
“it’s truly nothing.” he responded simply, the both of you entering the garden now and drawing nearer to the long table set up amidst a bed of roses and daisies, the rest of the girls beginning to take their seats. “enjoy your brunch darling.”
“no! but—”
“it’s alright go say hello—”
“i’d rather actually rot—”
“hello y/n!”
you stopped fidgeting and dropped your arms, another tight smile on your face as you greeted the youngest monroe sister from the table, deciding to ignore kento’s chuckling from behind you and walk up, taking a seat with the rest of them and looking over the extravagantly set up table for anything to stuff your face with— it filled with little pastries and appetizers from top to bottom, a pretty strawberry shortcake cake in the middle surrounded by a tier of cupcakes and scones, little baked sandwich platters, and a porcelain tea cup set at each of your designated seats to enjoy.
you lightened up a little over all of the cute details and selections, forgetting that the monroe’s always knew how to put on a lovely brunch for all of you every year as you extended an arm, grabbing the nearest tea pot and carefully pouring the steaming liquid in your cup.
“girls! just the other day my father bought me another set of those diamond jewels from the franziska’s!”
that’s why you’d always forget.
the rest of them gushed and looked around the table to the eldest monroe, her neck clad in a pretty diamond necklace with matching earrings and rings.
“i know right? i had lost my previous set while swimming in the lake and my staff couldn’t find them.”
“oh that happened to me once.” one of their girlfriends piped up. “it was an exclusive emerald set from europe… only one in the entire world made!”
the rest of the girls gasped and murmured.
“i had my staff looking in the lake all day and night for three days until one of them finally found it!”
“oh thank god!” the middle monroe sister breathed out. “i would’ve absolutely hated to lose those! especially since they’re a one of a kind!”
“mhm yup! and you know what else actually? just the other day i found out francis— you know the girl from the faltis family?”
the girls faces turned knowing and they eagerly nodded.
“i found out she was asking up and down various jewelry shops and makers for my emerald set!”
they all gasped.
“you’re kidding!”
“no! the girl either wanted to copy me or make the same exact set to still copy me.”
“oh! that sleazy—”
you completely tuned them out beyond this point, your brain literally pulsing with the stupidest shit you had ever come across to hearing in your life, choosing to sit there and enjoy the weather and pretty cherry blossoms around you as you ate a cranberry scone and thought about the things you wanted to do for the weekend.
it’s not like you were a total opposite from the rest of the girls.
you too liked jewels and pretty things, luxury branded vehicles and a little bit of gossip here and there.
but it was the way they talked about it and handled each thing was what aggravated you the most.
they were ungrateful, greedy, and bitchy— no other girl that was a loose connection from them allowed have the same jewelry set as theirs, the same set of friends as theirs, or the same set of dresses for your monthly bashes and dinner parties as theirs, turning utterly nasty if they so even got a glance of someone else having the same thing as them.
all things that were pointless and unrighteous to be upset about.
and just for the sake of keeping your father from putting your head on a stick, you remained civil with them and refrained from wearing anything similar to theirs at an event if you knew they would be in attendance.
but it was easy, for your taste was completely different than the lot of them, and you preferred pearls anyway over any kind of diamond or emerald or sapphire jewel piece.
“oh! and you know what i heard?” another girl friend spoke up. “akio from the corvus family has a little crush on miss y/n over there!”
kento’s ears perked up.
you jumped upon hearing your name, the rest of the girls gushing and ‘ooing’ as they turned their attention to you.
“i’m sorry what? who?”
“akio!” she laughed. “that man is obsessed with you! he asks for you at every single gathering.”
akio? 
akio… akio…
“the one that looks like a toad?”
the girls laughed at your comment, covering their mouths or learning forward as you just blinked at them, unaware of how what you said was so funny.
“oh you’re too much!” the youngest monroe waved you off. “yes him! any time he sees any of us at an event he always asks if you’re there with us.”
“you know what yes!” the eldest exclaimed. “i heard he wanted to strike up a proposal with your father! i think he already did!”
you dropped the cupcake you were holding.
and kento froze.
“a— a— propo—”
“oh my god congratulations y/n!”
“lucky you!”
“oh a bride already!—”
you turned in your seat to look at kento, but he was looking the other way, an unreadable expression on his face.
you turned back to the girls.
“is this a rumor or it’s actually happening?” you asked. “i don’t want to get married to him!”
they laughed again.
“why not?! yes he’s ugly but that man is loaded. has money to last him and you entirely without having to work a day in your lives!”
your blood ran cold, because anything you knew that was ordered by your father, was bible.
a housekeeping kitchen staff came around then and refilled a few platters of pastries and appetizers.
“ahh you’re so fortunate y/n!” one of the girl friends gushed. “i’d love to be wed to a man with money like akio… i could care less what he looks like!”
“you can have him.” you quickly sputtered, and they laughed again. “no seriously i don’t want him take him please—”
“oh don’t be silly!” the youngest monroe sister waved you off. “akio wants you. he’s kind of creepy about it too.”
“why me?!” you whined. “i’ve only spoken to him a handful of times—”
“why don’t you ask him at the dinner party you’re hosting next week? i’m pretty sure he’s going!” another girl friend spoke up. “i have a feeling he’s gonna propose to you there.”
you propped your elbow up on the table and placed a hand on your forehead in misery, feeling like you were living in a total nightmare.
“i’d honestly rather go broke.”
they all burst out laughing again.
what the hell was so funny?
“you’re too much!” the middle monroe sister gasped. “just give him a chance! once you see all the things he can buy for you, you’ll change your mind. plus… i think it’d be nice to have a break from mr. nanami don’t you think?”
you picked your head up.
“…kento?”
“uh huh!” the eldest continued. “god that must be exhausting having him around watching over you like that… it’s like he’s babysitting you. must be tiresome for him too.”
babysitting?
“with you and akio’s marriage i’m sure he’ll dismiss nanami’s services, and you can go your separate ways finally!”
“but—”
“and mr. nanami sure is handsome too.” another girl piped up with a hushed voice. “he’ll find a rich girl to settle down with in no time—”
“oh that’d be so great!—”
you abruptly stood, the silverware and tea cups clattering as you did so, the rest of them falling silent.
“sorry. excuse me.” you mumbled, eyes casted downward as you moved around your chair and off to the side, the girls shrugging and uncaring as they proceeded to babble on about other nonsense as you walked ahead, further and further away from the table and the chattering and through the garden, passing by several other flower beds of orchards and sunflowers until you reached the little duck pond by the end of the garden.
you stopped and sighed, bitterly crossing your arms and damning your father for ever discussing something as serious as marriage without your consent, marrying you off basically, or even lacking giving you a god damn warning before you came to brunch today— you and your father both knowing how much of a blabber mouth all of the girls were and how much they fed off of gossip like that.
you felt like a fucking idiot.
and who the hell was akio exactly? you knew of him and kind of had an idea of what he looked like, but you never really paid attention whenever he came up to talk to you at events or parties, his face almost entirely blurry in your mind besides the obvious features he had that did in fact make him look like a damn toad.
and another thing that was obvious too, was how creepy he was.
the only thing the monroe’s shit talking got right.
“honey?”
you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“hi ken.”
the rustling of grass filled the otherwise peaceful ambience as he stepped beside you, the both of you looking out ahead over the sparkling duck pond.
“are you alright?”
you nodded.
“i know you’re not alright i can see it.” he readjusted his lenses. “i’m assuming it has to do with the information the monroe’s told you?”
“i’m being married off ken.” you mumbled, eyes switching to him. “how are you so calm about this?”
“oh i’m not.” he spoke simply. “i’m quite agitated actually.”
you faltered, eyes falling down.
“i’ve always respected your father ever since we were young. and every choice he made with you i always agreed that it was what was best for you.”
you listened.
“but i can’t—” he paused. “… i can’t see how this is best for you. and i don’t know if it’s because i love you and i’m being selfish or if it actually is what’s best for you… so my thinking is— adhered.”
“how can marrying me off like the fucking renaissance period be what’s best for me?” you muttered, and he chuckled softly.
“and i love you, kento.” you continued. “my thinking’s also messed up.”
he placed a hand on your lower back and gently nudged you to him, you complying and falling into his side, wrapping your arms around him.
“it’s your choice y/n.” he spoke softly. “i know akio isn’t… the greatest. but he’s qualified to be your husband.”
your eyes widened.
“what are you saying? what about— what about you?”
he looked down, a sad smile on his face.
“i’ll stay for as long as you need me sweetheart.”
the ducks fluttering wings from the pond ahead filled the silence, tranquil splashes of water that followed after their every move with little quacks and hoots.
“so you’re just gonna give me away.” you mumbled. “just like that. easy peasy. who cares—”
“no—”
“i want you to be my husband ken.”
he gave you a deadpanned look.
“darling don’t joke about things like that—”
“oh i’m not joking.” you separated from him, frustration swirling in your chest. “why is it always considered a joke to you when i talk about being with you?”
he paused, sighing a little through his nose.
“i feel incredibly lucky that a woman like you could envision a life with me.” he spoke. “but i’m also aware that i’m very… boring. i’d feel it wrong to tie you down to a life without excitement like the one you live now.”
kento slipped an arm around your waist and brought you back in again.
“akio seems to be more like you… maybe you could learn to get along.”
your lip began to wobble, and kento’s eyes softened. 
“sweethea—”
“i don’t care about any of that stuff.” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “you of all people should know this—”
“don’t cry please you’ll ruin your hard work—”
kento dug into his blazer and pulled out a little handkerchief, carefully patting down your face.
“yes i like to go out a lot but so what? it’s not something that’s a part of me it’s just something i like to do.”
you took the handkerchief from him and pressed it into the corner of your eye. 
“you’re a part of me ken… and i want a life with you, i’ve known since i was freaking sixteen. i don’t need it spelled out for me.”
kento swallowed.
he’d always admired how stubborn you were, because to him it meant a strong mind and an ambitious drive in contrast to the negative connotation that that word seemed to have— things that were absolutely who you were and why he fell in love with you in the first place, and why you were such a gem.
but he worried still that you’d regret it and change your mind.
that he wouldn’t be able to live up to your lifestyle and your wants and needs, and that you’d get bored of him… leaving in the end.
kento doesn’t think he could bare the thought of you leaving him, much like how he couldn’t bare the thought of you marrying akio either.
but if it meant what was best for you, then so be it… except it wasn’t. 
he was sure of it.
“you’re a part of me as well.” he murmured. “i’m sure you know that—”
“i don’t.” you grumbled, and he chuckled. “you’re always switching up on me with your rejections and then your confessions i’m confused—”
kento silenced you with a kiss to your lips, his big hands on either sides of your face as your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into his built frame, your arms snaking around his neck and his bringing you closer by the waist as you tenderly deepened the kiss— soft lips smacking and moving with such love that it almost made you cry again.
“i’m sorry.” he pulled back, whispering against your lips. “it’s completely unfair to you—”
“s’okay ken.” you whispered back, the cutest smile he had even seen in his life on your face. “i’ll forgive you if you keep kissing me.”
“deal.”
your lips mushed up against each others once more, kento breathing you in and relishing in the feeling of your body pressed up against his, his hands slowly roaming around from your waist to your sides— still trying to be respectful of his hand placement until you took one of them and lowered it to your ass cheek with a squeeze, him laughing against your lips.
you were so silly.
silly and bright and spontaneous and beautiful, today another reminder from countless others with your frilly pastel yellow sundress and the pearls in your hair, your entity different from the rest of the women he’d come to know and thankful that he was lucky enough to have grown with you.
to have protected you. 
and the both of you were relieved to see that the monroe sisters and their girl friends didn’t seem to care where you two had ventured off to, for you didn’t know how long you were gone either as you approached the table again— the dessert piles, scones, and strawberry shortcake cake nearly nonexistent, you taking a seat again and secretly reapplying your lipgloss since kento had basically sucked it off of your face, your cheeks pinky and the butterflies in your stomach running rampant.
you were glad then that the monroe’s and their minions were such dim witted bitches too, because their level of self-absorption inhibited them from knowing or picking up on any clues of what could have transpired between you and kento in the garden, them immediately going to you upon arrival and chatting up a storm about mindless things again like you had never left the table to begin with.
but all you could think about was what you were going to tell you father about akio.
and you didn’t want to think about it honestly… because you knew there was a strong chance of you getting literally violent and landing yourself in deeper shit with him than ever before.
that didn’t matter either though if it meant being with kento… and for real this time. the thought of simply just him giving you the push that you needed to trudge up your grand staircase once you got home from brunch, kento trailing behind you and pleading with you to take a little breather before going in to speak with your father, but you absolutely done over the situation seeing as he only ever saw you as a thing and not his daughter if he was willing to marry you off like that.
“my love please relax—”
you stopped in front of your fathers study and knocked curtly, ignoring kento’s words.
“come in.”
you pushed down the handle and walked through, kento following close behind you and clicking the door closed as you stepped to the front of your fathers desk, your arms crossed.
“ah y/n. nanami.” he looked up from his documents, eyes switching between the two of you. “how was brunch with the monroe’s?”
“good.” you replied.
“was the food selection still as grandiose as always?” he looked back down at his paperwork.
“mhm.” you crossed your arms. “they had strawberry shortcake cake this year.”
he hummed. “the monroe’s always know how to put on a good event don’t they? for their daughters? and how are they by the w—”
“they’re fine.” you cut him off sharply. “but you know what isn’t fine?”
he eyed you.
“what?”
“that you’re marrying me off to akio—”
he sighed loudly and placed his documents flat on his desk, leaning forward and wringing his hands together to rest on the surface.
“he’s a good prospect.” he began. “he came up to me with some very impressive ideas about the future of my business, and also how much he was interested in you.”
you scoffed. “so this is what the arrangement is about? your business?”
“i thought you would be happy about this?” he extended his hands out lazily. “akio comes from a wealthy background. you’ll be taken care of in whatever you need and he’s qualified to take over my business once the time comes—”
hurt flashed across your face.
“why would you consider akio taking over your business and not your daughter?”
he laughed humorously, shuffling some papers about mindlessly on his desk.
“y/n you can’t possibly think that i’d consider you to take leadership over my business.”
“and why the hell not?”
his eyes narrowed.
“because you’re incompetent.” he spoke harshly. “you don’t know the meaning of responsibility, you’re stubborn, you’re spoiled, and all that you concern yourself with is parties and outings. you think i would allow you anywhere near my business?”
with each insult and jab that was thrown in your face, the blurrier and blurrier your vision got, you desperately trying to blink your tears back and put on a brave front, but finding it difficult when it was your own father that was dumbing you down to nothing.
“you’re not ready for anything like this and i don’t think you will ever be.” he stood up from his chair. “i’m thinking of what’s good for you and you’re being ungrateful yet again with your complaints—”
“sir with all due respect please try to see where she’s coming from.” kento interjected. “i’m sure she has the future of your business in her best interests, but marrying her off to someone she doesn’t know very well is upsetting her—”
“she’s never had any interest in the state of my business son you and i both know that—”
“sir she’s an extremely capable woman and independent i assure you her contribution to the business would serve prosperity—”
your father scoffed. “there is no prosperity with her. all she brings is disorder and foolery and i appreciate you trying to vouch for her but—”
“please if you’d just give her a chance—”
“i’d give you more of a chance over her—”
“then give the company to kento!” you yelled, the both of them snapping their heads to you and kento’s eyes widening. “i could care less what you think of me everything you told me isn’t new fucking information—”
“young lady language—”
“—i’m not here to try and convince you to give me the business that’s not what i’m here for.” you spat. “but don’t you dare stand there and say that i’ve never cared about the state of it when that’s bullshit.”
kento placed a hand on your shoulder and you shook it off.
“give the company to kento.” you repeated firmly. “if you give it to akio he’ll run your business to the ground and you know that.”
“and how would you know he isn’t qualified—”
“are you kidding?” you shook your head incredulously. “akio is a little dumb boy who goes to his daddy for help any chance he gets because he can’t do anything for himself. he puts on a show about how he’s this mature experienced man when he’s nothing but a joke.”
“i thought you said you barely knew him?” your father asked. “where is this information coming from?”
“the monroe sisters.” you spat. “they’re blabbermouths and their opinions are garbage, but their gossip is always truthful.”
it’s how you found out about the arranged proposal after all.
“i’m stubborn, i’m spoiled, i’m too stupid to handle anything for myself i’m helpless— fine. whatever you say but him?—”
you pointed to kento.
“he’s the most qualified for this position and you and i both know that.”
“y/n no—” kento tried to interject again, but you cut him off.
“he’s seen you handle the business since he was fourteen and knows it inside and out and just as much as you do. any task you’ve ever given him he’s gotten it done and more and i assure you that the business will flourish if you give it to him.”
you stepped forward, your father standing there with a neutral expression.
“believe it or not i care about what you worked so hard for to create, and i care about you, and regardless of what you think of me and the fact that you’ve shown me the complete opposite, it’d kill me to see akio ruin all of it.”
you wiped your cheeks and continued as you turned around, making your way to the other side of your father’s study. 
“kento’s a good man. everything will be in good hands with him.”
you threw open the door and stomped out.
“and i’m not marrying akio!—”
“y/n return at once—”
“sir i advise you to—”
your father and kento’s words drowned out the further down the hallway you got, tears spilling from your eyes now that you were away from it all as your heels hastily clicked against the shiny marble flooring, quiet sobs racking through your body.
you spouting repeatedly how you didn’t care what your father thought about you was a complete lie.
because you very much did care… you always have. and no matter how hard you tried to prove to him that you were capable of more than just parties and brunches and pearls and pretty dresses and shoes and cars, it was never enough. 
you were never enough.
“y/n—”
kento distantly burst out from your father’s study and quickly strode up to you, concern etched all over his face as you shook off your chiffon scarf and chucked it somewhere behind you in frustration. 
“my darling—” kento picked up the long piece of fabric and continued on after you. “my darling i’m so sorry—”
“i need to be alone ken.” you sobbed. “i’m sorry too i just need to be alone—”
“i refuse to leave—”
you slammed your bedroom door shut and kento picked up the pace, his eyes big in alarm at the sound of tumbling and thudding in your room as he stopped in front of your door, swinging it open to reveal you on the other side throwing your heels across the room along with several other pairs and things, your pretty pearls and jewels flying as he stood there in shock.
kento caught sight of you picking up your favorite porcelain flower vase amidst your rage to throw, him quickly stepping in and snatching it from you and fighting your thrashing as he held you to himself.
“kento stop it!—”
he placed the vase safely on your vanity desk and spun you around, his arms grabbing your shoulders tightly as he bent down to your level.
“sweetheart breathe please—” 
he hurriedly snagged off his cream colored blazer and tossed it off to the side, leaving him in his blue button up and suspenders as he rolled up his sleeves and placed his hands back on your shoulders.
“hey— it’s alright.” his hazel eyes frantically darted over every corner of your face, him snatching off his lenses now and tossing them. “it’s alright breathe for me y/n please—”
you could only sob, your mascara stained cheeks and heartbroken expression crumbling and ripping kento to pieces as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup and caress your wet face.
“everything he said was the farthest thing from the truth don’t let it upset you like this—”
“no but he’s right he’s right!” you sobbed. “i’m useless i can’t do shit for myself and i’d probably be off somewhere dead in a ditch if it wasn’t for you—”
“do not say things like that—”
“kento you can’t be with me.”
he faltered. “i’m sorry?”
“you can’t be with me it’s embarrassing to be with me you’re better off with someone who’s capable and responsible like you i just bring you down—”
“stop that i’m serious i won’t ask again—”
“no kento you’re not listening!” you cried, your shoulders violently shaking. “you’re a good man. you’re such a good man and you’re way too good for me and i don’t deserve to be with you you can’t keep babysitting me like this—”
“how could you ever possibly say these things about yourself?” he shook his head. “how could you ever say that you’re too good for me when it’s the other way around?”
your eyes narrowed.
“no it’s not don’t give me that—”
“your father is full of shit.”
your mouth snapped shut.
kento never badmouthed your father no matter what it was, and he also never cussed so forceful and purposeful no matter the situation.
“he’s always been too hard on you and too stoic for reasons that i will never understand nor ever agree with.”
he leaned closer.
“do not upset yourself over the things he said any longer and do not worry about your marriage arrangement with akio.”
“ken—”
“do not think about the pearls you just threw over your balcony do not worry about anything— i will take care of it.”
“i—”
“i love you and i will take care of it.”
you continued to cry, letting your body slump wholly against his as he caught you and held you tight.
“please.. i beg you darling to believe me when i say that you are the most capable woman i know.” he spoke against your ear, his chest aching over your soft sobbing. “you’re witty and you’re intelligent and you’ve come so far simply because of who you are and the way you carry yourself. it’s a shame your father can’t see that.”
“no one can see that—”
“i can see it. everybody else can see it too and i’ve been around you all my life to testify for it.” 
you sniffled, burying your face in his neck.
“believe me my love…” he ran a soothing hand down your back. “you’re everything. you’re an asset. don’t let your father’s words take that away.”
you sniffled a little, standing there silent as your hiccups and sobs settled down gradually, your heart beating prominently against your ribs at kento’s sweet murmurings and affection, because though your fathers actions and decisions were bible, so were kento’s words.
he was a good man.
“thank you.” you mumbled, and he nodded, gently guiding you to your bed to sit.
“i’ll take care of you sweetheart.” he pulled back and placed a soft kiss to your lips. “i promise you.”
you smiled a little, a small warm gleam in your eyes as you sniffed and nodded.
“okay ken.”
words didn’t need to be said between the two of you to know the unconditional love you both had for each other, one that was born and bred and made a fact upon your lives crossing paths through fated connections, and strengthened from the day kento decided to be your bodyguard and protect you with everything that he had.
and words didn’t need to be said between the two of you as you both fell in each other’s soft embraces either, kissing with lingering hands and bated breaths as kento delicately laid you back on your bed after a moment of soft chattering, him making sure you were okay, and scattering hungry open mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck and your body language alone with your needy whines enough of an indicator to him that you needed all of him, just as much as he needed all of you, his calloused hands undressing you and worshipping your bare body and everything that you were.
skin to skin contact that was hot to the touch, your arms that barely reached around his broad built shoulders trembling as kento made love to you that night, foreheads resting against each others as he pumped slowly and intimately in and out from inside you, your gasps catching themselves in your throat and him moaning with every thrust and snap of his hips that sent you down a ditzy fucked out road that you never wanted to back track from.
and kento treated you like a delicate little pearl all while at the same time desperately marking and bruising you up with hickeys and bites, afraid from the start that he would accidentally cross the line and hurt you due to his size, but you reassuring him with your perfect smile and pretty face while whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he filled you full, him swallowing you whole and man handling you so much to the point where he had to have you biting down on his tie to keep you quiet while he fucked you senseless.
everything about it was meaningful and cherished and nothing like you’d ever experienced before in your life— a night you wanted to remember for as long as you lived and prayed that you got to repeat over and over again… with him.
with kento and kento only.
he was the only man capable of simmering down your tears and making you feel so much better about a situation as horrid as the one that transpired, and he was the only man that was capable of getting you to listen when you didn’t want to, an incredible talent in itself that spoke volumes in how much of a gentle and kind and reliable person he was… and you only hoped that you provided him with things of the same caliber.
and the thought of that only amplified upon you waking up to find that kento wasn’t next to you in your bed the next morning… when you clearly remembered falling asleep in his big arms the night before.
you slowly sat up, one tired eye peeking over at the vacant spot next you and around the room, finding nothing and honestly feeling a little down about his disappearance as you groggily got out of bed.
maybe he went to eat breakfast? or get a cup of coffee?
you continued on anyways with your morning and freshened up for the day, your legs nearly giving out and sore in the shower due to the pounding he gave you— skin tender and purple under the running water and you loving every mark, shrugging and getting ready quicker than normal so you could finally see kento downstairs to share a little smooch or two with him.
you zoomed through styling your hair and doing your makeup before spritzing a bit of perfume, not bothering to locate your phone before you opened the door to your bedroom and stepped out, bidding your usual good mornings to your housekeeping staff as you skipped down the grand staircase and over to the kitchen, a place he was usually at if not already with you in your room.
but he wasn’t there.
and you frowned.
where was he?
you spent a total of thirty minutes looking for kento— practically turning your mansion upside down and even sticking your head in rooms you had never stepped foot in before, your mind fucking confused and worried that you couldn’t locate him anywhere and that your staff didn’t even know where he was when you asked, for him doing something like this was completely unheard of.
upon going back upstairs, you speedily walked past your fathers study and stopped.
could he be in there…?
but your father was for sure in there, and you couldn’t stand the thought of speaking or even looking at him at the moment without fury clouding your judgement again.
but kento could be in there…
you took a deep breath and walked back to your fathers door, hesitantly knocking gently.
“come in.”
you pushed the door open and stepped in, closing it behind you before turning around and shoulders slumping when you didn’t spot him in here either.
dammit.
“good morning.” your father spoke. “what can i do for you? it’s rather early for you to be stopping by.”
“oh yeah sorry i just—” you played with the ends of your hair. “i was just looking for kento… i thought he might’ve been in here.”
he shook his head.
“he’s not. he left.”
you froze.
“he— what?”
“he left.” you father repeated. “nanami stepped down from the position of being your bodyguard earlier today. he left a couple of hours ago.”
what the fuck?
“i don’t—” you tightly gripped the table next to you, balancing yourself. “i don’t understand—”
“you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard within the next coming week—”
“did he say why?” you breathed out. “did he say anything at all?”
your fathers eyes scanned you.
“amongst various other things, he said he simply couldn’t fulfill that position anymore.”
“did you fire him?!”
he scoffed. “don’t be ridiculous y/n i would never do something like that to nanami. i tried to get him to reconsider.”
holy fucking shit.
kento quit? kento left? kento left you?
it didn’t make any sense. nothing about it made sense to you this— this wasn’t like him at all—
“like i said you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard soon i just need to finalize nanami’s paperwork—”
you swung open the door and ran out, your eyes already filling with tears as you pushed through your housekeeping staff and ignored their beckoning and calls, you bursting through your room and throwing everything around to try and find your phone through your heaving and panic.
why did he leave you? was it something you did?
did he finally realize you were nothing but a useless spoiled girl?
you hurriedly wiped your eyes and kept looking, transitioning from your bed over to your vanity desk and knocking over everything to try and find your stupid phone to call him, some of your expensive bottle of perfumes clattering and spilling and you not giving a rats ass about it as your tears increased in intensity, about to run out of your room and get in your car to literally drive around your fucking city to look for him until you snapped your head up.
a small yellow sticky note sat stuck to your mirror. 
you stopped, dropping the items you were holding and stepping closer— pulling the note from its position and bringing it in.
i’ll be in the garden waiting for you when you wake up.
kento.
you hiccuped and wiped your eyes again, kicking the clothes you had thrown about in search for your phone (that you still couldn’t find) as you hurriedly left your room and trudged down the hall, confusion and hurt suffocating your head over the information you had just learned about him and his leave, you reaching the bottom of your staircase and rounding through various hallways and lounge areas to get to the entry way of your little garden, one that wasn’t exaggeratingly massive like the monroe’s, but one that was a great size and that you loved with everything in you— various flowers and herbs planted by yours truly as you periodically took care of them from time to time.
and sure enough, as promised, kento was standing at the end of your garden, his back turned to you as he overlooked the acres of land your father owned that stretched beyond the premises of your rosey labyrinth, him dressed in a casual yet dressy tight long sleeve sweater and dress pants— a sight you weren’t used to seeing at all as you always saw him in a full blown suit everyday without fail.
kento heard the soft rustling of grass and he slightly turned, a soft smile stretching across his chiseled face until he caught sight of your tear stained cheeks and pissed off expression, his face dropping and brows pinching.
“honey what’s wrong?” he walked over to you and you glared. “why are you looking at me like that?”
“you quit.” you muttered, already annoyingly feeling your waterworks trigger again. “my father said you gave up your bodyguard position.”
“oh.” his shoulders relaxed, and his nonchalance only further pissed you off. “i did my love yes—”
“why.” you pushed. “why are you leaving i don’t— i don’t get it did i do something wrong? i—”
“what?” he shook his head and took your hands in his. “no dear god no you didn’t do anything.”
“then why are you leaving?” you sniffed, and kento wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.
“i told your father i love you.”
you stiffened.
“he wasn’t very pleased.” he continued. “i figured he wouldn’t be… but he didn’t make me step down from my position darling, i chose to do that.”
you blinked confusedly.
“but why?”
“i don’t want to be paid for something that i was born to do as your man.” he smiled warmly. “it didn’t feel right to me… and i don’t want to be labeled as that anymore either.”
he wiped away your remaining tears.
“i want to only be known as yours now. not your bodyguard or anything else in between.”
you were left speechless, unmoving and rigid at everything he was saying.
“however… your father did make me choose between you and the business.”
your brows furrowed, taken aback.
“the— the business?—”
kento nodded, a content smile still on his face.
“he was impressed by what you said yesterday sweetheart.” 
you scoffed. “what that his words were bullshit and that he doesn’t care about me—”
he laughed, little crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head.
“he was satisfied to see that you weren’t angry about not getting the company for yourself, but because he was going to give it away to someone who wasn’t qualified to maintain it.” 
you pursed your lips.
“he was offering it to me in exchange for letting you go. i refused immediately.”
your eyes shot up.
“kento no i— fuck—” you looked around exasperatedly. “this is your dream! this is everything you’ve ever wanted i feel horrible for taking that away i don’t—”
“sweetheart don’t be stupid.” he chuckled. “i thought i made it clear enough that you’re everything i’ve ever wanted… not some business. i don’t need any of that. just you.”
your eyes softened.
“are you sad at all?”
he shook his head and gently kissed your forehead.
“i’m the happiest i’ve ever been y/n.”
and that was the truest of truths.
kento was truly and incandescently happy, no longer tied down and restrained by his inner monologues of former idiotic confusion, or jugglings of what was best for you and whether you should be with him or not no longer standing in the way either as he finally welcomed the fact that yes— a woman as gracious and lively and stunning as you could indeed love a simple man like him, an absolute privilege and honor to have someone as special as you want a life with him in it that he just couldn’t understand how his feelings were ever considered confusing to start with.
for him thinking of nothing but you and his occupation as your protector and your guide, a job that he saw himself doing beside you until his very dying day, was all simply a mask of him thinking out the rest of his life with you in the form of work.
and it was so clear that he loved you. so much.
how could he not? how could the way he stared at the monroe’s generational wedding portraits and photographs, swapping their faces out with his and yours, and his constant weighings of ‘if she was mine’ and ‘does she actually feel the same way’ from before not already give away enough that he loved you?
but it was even clearer now, with him giving up the opportunity to build and nourish a reputable business like he’d always aspired to do, turning it down without so much as a blink because he wanted you and you only, not feeling an ounce of regret in his body and knowing that he never will.
kento was looking forward to spending the rest of his days with the woman that he’d always envisioned it with— the forbidden heavenly fruit that he had deemed impossible to reach and wrong to even try, him unknowing of the fact that that same glistening fruit sat dangling and waiting as it would only ever let itself be harvested and picked by him… for kento was the one who planted and had been nurturing it for as long as it could remember.
planted it… nurtured it… kept it safe.
kept you safe.
and funnily enough, another individual was also looking forward to seeing your life with kento unfold… your father— curious to see how exactly two opposites became compatible, and when it was that the two of you fell in love as it managed to wholeheartedly slip past his radar completely when most things didn’t.
had he really been this absent in your life?
… though regardless if he was or wasn’t, it was too late to dwell on it now, seeing as you were a grown woman and capable and your father was grateful that you at least had a companion with you through the many days he wasn’t, and an honorable man such as kento— taking care of you and guiding you through every step of your life when he didn’t even need to be asked, his willingness to do it and overlooking your reckless habits reading numbers to your father.
and even more so now as he leaned against his studies stone balcony ledge from above, it overlooking the entirety of your garden plus the acres of land he owned during the annual dinner party he put on for the business, kento sitting peacefully on a lawn chair with you in his lap while drinking glasses of sparkling champagne, soft echoing laughs and giggles heard from below as you enjoyed each others company away from the bustling crowds and nosy relatives.
it was a pleasing sight, to say the least.
and it was exactly why your father was going to give his business to kento when the time came, because when given the choice between gluttony and love, kento chose love.
he chose you.
“i’m thinking of planting tiger lilies soon.” you hummed, your head resting on kento’s shoulder as he delicately ran a hand down your back, sipping his champagne. “it’s almost their season… right?”
“i believe so, yes.” he nodded. “i think that’s a great idea.”
“thanks!” you cheesed, running the tip of your index finger absentmindedly over the rim of your glass. “will you help me? i need your big manly arms to carry the soil out from the flower shop tomorrow hehe.”
he chuckled, tracing his fingers gingerly over your upper arm. “i’ll pick it up for you in the morning sweetheart. don’t concern yourself with it.”
you smiled to yourself, cheeks warm as you pressed a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.
“i am concerned about something else though…”
his brows pinched, lowering the glass from his lips and looking at you in concern.
“what is it?”
“when we’re gonna pick our wedding date—”
kento laughed boastfully and shook his head, setting down his champagne glass on the little table next to him and settling his hand over your thigh, the material of your classy black dress smooth under his touch.
“you asked me this just last night my love.”
“okay so?” you grinned. “you don’t want me to be your precious wife? the birth giver of your offspring?—”
“i never said that—”
“because i could y’know.” you caressed his jaw with your thumb. “i could be your wife and be the mother of your children… isn’t that what you want?”
with all of his heart.
“it’s what i want at least.” you pouted, and kento smiled handsomely, the vision of you soaked in the rays of the setting sun before him a lethal one as he felt his heart rattle against his chest.
“me promising to take care of you has marriage included above all else my love.” he spoke gently. “you will be my bride someday, i assure you.”
you stared at him warmly, your cheek falling to rest against his as you placed your hand on his chest and over his white crisp button up.
“i also assure you that you’ll continue to be happy and protected, alright?” he squeezed your thigh. “just because i’m not your bodyguard anymore doesn’t mean my duties are done with.”
you nodded against him, the slight prickling cold wind brushing against your skin as the stunning sun continued to set.
“you’re a good man, ken.” you murmured. “and i love you.”
and that was another truest of truths.
because as he reiterated that same three worded phrase back to you and held you closer to his built frame, grabbing his blazer from the arm rest and draping it over your goose bumped filled shoulders, and with a tender kiss to your lips?
it was obvious that kento nanami was born and raised to be just that.
a good man.
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giuseppe-yuki · 2 days ago
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birthday celebration?
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normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader
w.c.: 3.8k
warnings: suggestive material, curse words, danica patrick (?), sassy and jimmy slander (sorry i love them irl i promise)
part of my money, money, money!universe
summary: yesterday was max's birthday. the press wants to know: you guys went all out to celebrate, right?
a/n: so yesterday was actually my birthday 🤭 i tried my best to post this before it hit 12 as a birthday treat for y'all, but it didn't really work out... consider this a late birthday post + max 4 wdc celebration :)
p.s. this is NOT the money, money, money spinoff that i promised- i'm working on that i swear🤞🥲
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picture credits from pinterest :)
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to say the driveway up to the gala building was crowded was an understatement. if you looked out the window of the very expensive rolls royce you were currently seated in, you could spot at least five rosso corsa ferraris and like, three jet black lamborghinis within a meter from you. to be honest, you had to give props to your private driver, daniil, because there was no way you could have strategically maneuvered the car onto the jam-packed road without causing a rather exorbitant pileup of supercars. next to you, on the plush leather seats, was your boyfriend in his freshly pressed, custom fitted suit that you had your assistant buy just for the event. he sits there politely with his hands folded together, wide blue eyes blinking at you innocently. he looked mighty handsome, and if you weren’t currently sitting in a car with a billion cars, paparazzi, and influential figures right outside, you certainly would have done some not-so-appropriate things to max right then and there.
instead of doing said things and traumatizing your poor private driver, you quickly glance at your phone. 
a bold 5:10 flashes across the screen, in front of your lockscreen of max curled up in bed with jimmy and sassy. 
shit. 
you were scheduled to do some press stuff outside the event around 5:20, and had to be inside by 5:45. if the queue of cars of ahead of you didn’t hurry up, you would probably be late, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if the ceo of redbull herself was late to her own redbull gala. 
max, like the sweet, observant boyfriend that he is, peers down at his own phone, notes the time, then tilts his head at you. 
“do you want to just run up to the entrance?” he asks, pocketing his phone. “i’m sure it’s not too far, and i don’t want you to be late for your pr stuff!” 
that didn’t sound like a bad idea. 
after notifying daniil, you and max slip out of the vehicle, much to the surprise of the people in the cars around you. once you squeeze out of the crowd of exotic cars onto the sidewalk, max takes your hand and bolts his way towards the grandly decorated stairs of the gala in the distance. 
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unfortunately, you might have misjudged the distance to the entrance, because you both end up a little moist from sweat by the time your heeled feet reach the red carpet-lined stone stairs that lead up to open double doors- the entrance to the gala. lining the stairs are multiple cameras and interviewers, met-gala style. you are sure these are the pr interviews that your assistant was talking about, judging by the sprinkle of red-bull sponsored athletes chit-chatting to a few press members along the stairs and groups of photographers sending off bright flashes with their high-tech cameras. to your right, a man you recognize as sergio perez nods slowly as his interviewer animatedly gestures to a picture of sergio diving into what looks like a pool with a mexican flag wrapped around him. directly in front of you stands daniel ricciardo posing in different silly positions, much to the delight of the gossip magazine paparazzis that were probably having a field day photographing him. next to you, max ecstatically pulls on your dress and points to your left to the esports content creator, ludwig, who laughs loudly to your left as he banters with an excited looking man with a rather large microphone in hand. you haven’t really looked into ludwig’s content, but you often saw max watching his streams while you were in your online meetings, so if he liked ludwig, you guess you did too. 
you attempt to quickly pull max towards the top of the stairs towards the entrance to the gala in an effort to completely avoid doing your media duties, but you are unfortunately stopped within the next twenty seconds by your own interviewer, a lady in the brightest pink outfit you had ever seen in your life.
“heLLO!” the lady says rather enthusiastically. “danica patrick, reporting for tmz!”
“er, hi!” you respond, a little less enthusiastically. max, half-hidden behind you, gives a light wave to the camera. 
unperturbed, she flashes you both a toothy, unnaturally white smile at you both and places a microphone towards her glossy lips. 
“so, miss redbull ceo! it’s so nice to meet you!” she remarks, “and you look absolutely flawless today!” 
you give her and the camera a tight smile. 
“thank you,” you respond, as if you didn’t have two drops of sweat going down your neck and a slightly dirt-dusted gown from the sprint from your car. 
she nods, and then as if just realizing max’s presence, snatches him out from his half-hidden position behind you. 
“and you!” she exclaims, looking max up and down.  “you must be the boyfriend! max-” she checks her notes- “verstappen! yes, i’ve heard so much about you!” 
your boyfriend blinks at her, nervously twiddling the redbull pin that was pinned to his lapel. 
“okay,” he says after a beat of silence. 
the lady nods, and scribbles something down in her notes as if max had something absolutely life-changing, before turning back to you. 
“so, i’ve received the news that yesterday was max’s birthday,” she proclaims. “and i was just wondering what’d you guys did to celebrate! as a successful ceo, you must have went all out, huh?”
seriously? you think. what of question is this? you get to interview a ceo and this is the best thing you can come up with?
when you hesitate a second before answering, she probes, “rumor has it that you both went to bora bora yesterday...” 
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as if it knew that today was your boyfriend’s birthday, the bright rays of the monaco sun shined a golden beam of light straight onto max’s hair, lighting the blondish-brown strands into a little halo around his head. even if it feels like a creep to just stare at his peaceful face, you can’t help but gaze a little too long at his pouty lips, long eyelashes, and light stubble. from the corner of your eye, you can see one of his devilish cats balancing precariously on the bedframe. you clock it as sassy, who you knew, unfortunately from experience, loved to pounce on max’s face in the morning when she was feeling a little hungry. sassy meows at you innocently before proceeding to crouch in a position, ready to pounce. jimmy watches at the end of the bed, doing absolutely nothing as you fight for your life trying to wave sassy away without waking up max. 
like the absolute devil sassy is, she leaps off the bedframe, claws extended, right at max. with your lightning quick reflexes that should earn you a seat in the redbull f1 team that your company sponsors, you snatch the bengal cat out of the air before she gets a chance to maul your boyfriend and send him to the emergency room on his birthday. 
she hisses at you, teeth bared, and you just about catapult her out of the open window next to the bed.
instead, you take a deep breath. you deduce that max probably wouldn’t like to wake up finding out that his cat was a pancake on the streets below his apartment, probably ran over by someone’s ferrari pista. instead, you opt for a less extreme “fuck you,” that you hiss right back at sassy. 
like he sensed someone threatening his baby, your boyfriend shifts around. 
“whadyou say?” max mutters from the pillows behind you.
you whip back to face your boyfriend, simultaneously shoving sassy away from you. 
max rubs his eyes sleepily and uses a hand to block the sun that now shines into his eyes. you try not to stare again at his eyes that light a warm whisky brown in the beams of sunlight that seep through his fingers. it cannot be legal to look this good.
“nothing,” you dismiss. 
leaping forward, you wrap your arms around him in a hug.
a surprised look crosses his face, but he leans into your embrace anyways. 
“do you know what day it is, maxie?” you ask, voice a little muffled from being pressed into the crook of his neck. 
max takes a shockingly long time to respond. 
“um… saturday?” he says slowly.
you give him a weird look. 
“well yes…but it’s also your birthday!” you exclaim.
“oh!” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i totally forgot!”
“no way,” you say incredulously.
“yes way,” max replies, tucking you into his side with an arm around you. 
leave it up to your boyfriend to forget his own birthday. 
“well,” you state after a beat of silence of looking at the popcorn ceiling of his apartment. “good thing we still have, like, sixteen hours left to do whatever you want- and we basically have unlimited budget- so go crazy!” 
“hmm,” he says. 
“anywhere you’d like, really- bali, the hamptons, paris, dubai, maldives, bora bora,” you suggest helpfully. “or all of them?”
max thinks for second. 
“how about monaco?”
you blink confusedly. 
“so… right here?” 
“yeah,” he responds. 
you shrug. 
“sure, that’s fine too!”
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deborah, or danica, or whatever her name was, babbles on as you and max stand on the stairs awkwardly.
“an inside source has also relayed to us that you might have bought your boyfriend an abt audi rs6, legacy edition for his birthday- an insanely rare and expensive car which only has 200 made in the entire world! 
an abt-legacy what? you can’t help but think, what the hell was that? 
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once you get dolled up with your 12-step get-ready process and max pulls on his usual clothes (white shirt + unfortunate-looking skinny jeans), you both hop in max’s trusty little yellow renault clio rs. of course, like the cat lover he was, max refused to accept any expensive material gifts from you, and instead requested to visit the cat shelter as a birthday “gift.” you guess you would probably have to return the tag heuer watch in your bedside drawer that you had gotten him plus the keys to that yacht that was currently sitting in the monaco bay that you thought he would like. 
max whistles a cheerful tune as he types in the cat shelter address onto his phone’s navigation app as you try your best to think of the best way to approach your assistant and tell him to return the yacht that he might have spent the last week negotiating with some old rich prick to buy. his phone makes a small “ding” and prompts him to back out of the tiny garage underneath his apartment, which he does with surprising ease. the ride to the shelter is pretty smooth, except that tiny part where this dumb guy with an all-black ferrari with a red ‘16’ on the side runs the red light, almost t-bones your boyfriend, and then proceeds to stop diagonally in the middle of the road with the most rancid parking job. 
your boyfriend walks into the cat shelter with you in tow. he passes right past the front desk, waves to the man playing sudoku on his phone, and then proceeds navigates the halls like he’s been there a million times. (actually, he might have) you pass row after row of cats in little kennels that your boyfriend somehow knows the names of, before coming to a stop in front of a young lady filling little formula bottles with milk. she has at least three cats worth of cat fur all over her paw-print sweater.
“max!” she remarks, looking a little too thrilled to see him. “how are you? i haven't seen you since, like, last tuesday!” 
looking to you, her smile drops significantly. 
“oh, and… who is this?” 
“hi, i’m max’s girlfriend,” you articulate, answering her question. you reach your hand out to shake, but she pointedly ignores it. 
“great…” she says fakely. “um, so how may i help you guys?” 
max seems to not notice. instead, he has a wide smile pasted on his face. 
“well, it’s actually my birthday today, and i would like to spread kindness by making a donation to my favorite cat shelter!” he announces. 
ten minutes later, you find yourself signing a check that is made out for the ‘monaco meow manor.’ 
max twiddles his pen around his fingers.
“how much should i put it down as?” he asks, pen hovering above the empty line on the check.
you shrug. 
“i don’t know, it’s your birthday, maxie. you choose.” 
the lady who was obviously into max and the sudoku guy at the front eyes the both of you from their place at the front desk. 
you watch as max writes down a 3300 on the piece of paper. he glances at you quickly. when you raise an eyebrow at him, he turns back and adds two more zeroes at the end. but, then he proceeds to place the commas all wrong. 
“that says 3,300,00, max,” you say, pointing to the obviously misplaced commas. 
“oh,” he says. “i can’t really erase it- it’s pen.”
the lady, whose scowl has disappeared, and the guy, who sudoku puzzle has long been abandoned, whips around after hearing this number, jaws dropped. 
ignoring them, you take the pen from max’s hand. 
“here,” you say, adding another neat zero to the end of max’s blocky numbers so it reads 3,300,000. 
“okay, great, thanks!” your boyfriend says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
he then turns to the lady and hands her the check. 
“here’s the check. i hope all the kitties in here can all live long healthy lives and get everything they ever need!” 
the two people at the desk look like they are about to pass out. 
the lady clutches at the check with a white-knuckled hand and profusely thanks the pair of you. 
you fight the urge to roll your eyes. oh, now she pays attention to you. 
max, oblivious, beams, before taking your hand and leading you back out to his little yellow car. 
“helping the kitties- check!” he declares. 
you can’t help but smile and pull max into a searing kiss in front of the little cat shelter that was about to become the best-funded feline sanctuary in monaco, and most likely france too. 
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you don’t even have a chance to respond to danica’s inquiry about the complicated-sounding car that you supposedly “bought” for max before she rambles on.
“i bet you bought your little boyfriend the most luxurious foods too!” she spouts. “wagyu beef, spaghetti with saffron, caviar- ooh! maybe a glass of moët?”
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“i’m not telling youuuuu!” max trills, leaping around the tiny living room of his monaco apartment with his phone held high above his head. 
you don’t know whether to start raging in annoyance from your place on the scraggly carpet or to laugh at your boyfriend twirling on the lumpy sofa, phone screen purposely held away from you. jimmy only aggravates the situation by butting his head directly at your shin. 
“max! is it a crime to want know what we are going to eat for dinner??” you shout, exasperated. 
max somehow does a perfect pirouette off of the sofa (???) and smiles at you. 
“no, but it should be a crime to look so pretty,” he says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you try and bat him away, but he is faster. he leaps up, cackling, and bolts away. his apartment isn’t that big, just his kitchen, living room, and his single bedroom, so you take your time hoisting yourself off the carpet. you resist the urge to punt jimmy away from your shin like a football, and instead gingerly step over him before sprinting over to max’s bedroom. 
he awaits behind his bedroom door, and literally tackles you to his bed, pinning you underneath him.
its hard to stay mad at max when he’s giggling like a little kid and looking at you with those impossibly blue eyes that crinkled in the corners while he laughs. 
“i hate you,” you say with no heat. 
“mhm, i’m sure you do,” he says, all the sudden sobering up. he leans his head down and nips at your neck. 
you both know where this always leads. 
max’s white shirt disappears within seconds like the sight of a f1 car by the grandstands, and soon enough, yours does too. 
before you can do anything, though, the doorbell rings. 
your boyfriend pulls off of you, albeit hesitantly. 
“foods here, i guess,” he says, pulling his shirt back on like he wasn’t about to whip off his pants two seconds ago. 
you roll your eyes as max goes to fetch the food while you get presentable again. 
when you pad into the kitchen, you genuinely expect to see the world’s best chef tossing vegetables a meter in the air, considering how secretive max was about the birthday dinner you both were having. 
instead, max sits at the table with a ripped bag that displays a tell-tale green ubereats sticker, along with a few black plastic boxes that takes up half of the table space. 
your boyfriend rips the lids off with a flourish, showing you the contents. 
“my favoriteeeeeeee!” he chirps, gesturing to thin slices of beef carpaccio laid out prettily in the container, fragrant tomato soup in another plastic bowl, and two cupcakes.
it was kind of a weird combination, but hey, if max liked it, you weren’t gonna argue with it. 
you grab utensils for the both of you, and dig in. 
when the dregs of the tomato soup is all that's left in your bowl, the beef carpaccio is reduced to a few stray capers and lemon juice, and the wrapper is all that’s left of the cupcake, you lay back contently in your chair. 
“you know, “ you state, “i could’ve flyed in the best beef carpaccio maker in the world, the best tomato soup chef ever, and like, gordon ramsey for the cupcakes and had them make this for you.”
“eh,” he says, also laying back in his seat, feeling full and happy, “ubereats from the restaurant three blocks down is honestly just as good too.” 
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danica was still not done. 
“the parties must have been wild for max's birthday, too!” she raves. “with your influence, i bet all the celebs were there! kim k, rihanna, carlos alcaraz, oprah winfrey, lebron james, johnny depp, billie ellish- shall i go on?
no, you think to yourself. no, you shouldn’t.
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feeling content, you flop onto max’s bed. your boyfriend slides onto the mattress next to you, allowing you to snuggle into his soft body. you inhale the smell of his cologne, and a feeling of content drapes over your body like a warm blanket. 
“happy birthday, again, max,” you mutter, voice muffled in his chest. you slowly slide a hand suggestively into his shirt. 
“thanks,” he says. he pauses a moment before getting up, effectively making your hand drop out.  “i think i’d like to play a video game right now.”
“oh,” is all you can think to say. you loved your boyfriend very much, but sometimes he just could not understand context clues. 
“are you sure?” you ask as he sets up his gaming system, loading in f123. “we could do something else…” you trail off slowly, seeing if he could pick up what you were putting down. 
“yeah,” he says, eyes trained on the tv. he scrolls through a bunch of men in racing suits, and you spot a like, two with your company’s sign, big and bold, across their chest. huh, you kind of forgot your company sponsored f1. you squint your eyes at the white lettering displaying their names- sergio perez and daniel ricciardo. they seemed like pretty successful dudes, looking at their stats. max clicks on daniel’s profile, and jumps back onto the bed next to you as the loading screen pops up, still oblivious to your intentions. 
he let him zoom through a track named mug jello or something like that for the better half of an hour before making another move, since it was his birthday, after all. 
“do you want to watch netflix and... chill?” you suggest, nudging max. 
“one second,” he responds, as the stopwatch thing at the side of the screen turns entirely purple. a checkered flag fills the screen, and the guy with the redbull racing suit appears, drinking champagne out of a shoe. “woohoo!” he says, beaming down at you, who has now draped yourself over his lap. “i won!”
you blink at him. how was being in his lap not obvious enough?
“oh, yeah, sure, we can watch a movie.” he says hurriedly, misjudging the seriously? look on your face. 
max gently moves you out of his lap as he changes the tv channels to netflix. 
when he turns back around, you have your shirt off, sitting suggestively on the bed. 
your boyfriend laughs. 
“is it really that hot in the room? i can turn on the ac if you want,” he offers helpfully. 
reaching over, he opens his window, effectively blasting your semi-naked body with a blast of cold monaco wind that frequented the coast at night. you swear to god, if you get sick tomorrow-
you finally give up your attempts after max switches on a film called “crazy rich asians.” you snuggle into him innocently as the movie starts, and honestly, the beginning is kind of good. 
you are right in the middle of the scene where the movie’s main character, rachel, is getting a makeover by her friend, peik lin, and her ridiculous family when you catch max staring at you.
“hey, baby,” he whisper-yells, nudging you. 
“mmm?” you respond, fully intrigued as Rachel tries on dress after dress. 
“do you want to..?” 
you don’t really comprehend what he is saying as you are too focused on an intense emotional scene that pops up on the screen. 
“huh?” you say distractedly.
max’s mouth latches to your neck. 
you manage to tear your eyes away from the screen to realize what max is doing. 
oh.
you notice are still shirtless and your boyfriends hands were now wandering to places that were not so family-friendly. 
damn it, you curse silently, the movie was just getting good!
still, you can’t help to give in to max’s urges.
pretty soon, the screen glazes over in black. a prompt pops up: are you still watching?
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the brunette interviewer beams at you and max, awaiting a response. the microphone that she holds is shoved a little too close to your face for comfort. seeing your silent form, her face drops into a scowl.
“no comment?” she sniffs in disdain. 
turning to max, she prods the microphone towards his lips. 
“you?” she snaps.
your boyfriend shrugs.
“all i can say is that my birthday yesterday was simply lovely.”
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taglist: @sunny44 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @xjval @fellowwomenlover @ironmaiden1313
@phobiccneel @comicalivy @amz824 @gloriousartisanpastacroissant @mastermindbaby
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unboundprompts · 1 day ago
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Hello! Can you help me and/or give me examples of how to write a pre-teen? Specifically a slightly mature for their age but still socially-awkward, selfless, empathetic, extroverted 10-year-old
How to Write a Pre-Teen
Voice and Language
Simple but specific vocabulary: Pre-teens might not use very complex words, but they often know and throw in some “big words” they’ve recently learned or mimic words they hear adults use. Don’t overdo it, though—they’ll often misapply or half-understand these terms, which can create natural, humorous moments.
“It’s totally, like, a catastrophe that I forgot my project.”
Expressive dialogue: Pre-teens are enthusiastic and often exaggerate. They can also shift quickly between emotions, from excitement to frustration.
“That was the best movie ever!” might turn into “Actually, I mean, it was kinda boring in some parts, but, you know, overall…”
Thoughtful yet blunt: Kids this age often haven’t fully learned the “filters” adults use. They can be direct and say things that are surprisingly insightful or unexpectedly honest.
Thoughts and Perspective
Developing identity and opinions: They’re beginning to form their own beliefs but still echo the views of family, teachers, or friends.
“Mom says people should never lie, but I wonder if little lies are okay if they help people feel better…”
Questioning and introspective moments: Pre-teens are curious about life, relationships, and “big ideas.” They may ask questions, but sometimes keep their deep thoughts to themselves, exploring them internally.
“If friends are supposed to be there for each other, why do I feel alone even when they’re around?”
Struggle with abstract concepts: At this age, they’re just beginning to understand abstract ideas like justice or friendship but often approach them in straightforward, literal ways.
Behavior and Actions
Impulsivity and energy: They might shift quickly between activities and emotions, getting distracted or excited without much control over it. They may also blurt out ideas or act before thinking, especially if they’re extroverted.
For instance, a character might immediately jump up to help someone even if they aren’t sure what to do, or they might “borrow” something without fully considering the consequences.
Physical awkwardness: Pre-teens can be a bit clumsy as they’re still growing into their bodies. This can lead to endearing, awkward moments.
They might knock something over, trip over their own feet, or feel self-conscious in ways that show they’re still figuring themselves out physically as well as socially.
Friendships and Social Dynamics
Navigating social rules: Pre-teens are very aware of social “rules” but may not fully understand them. This is an age when they care a lot about what their friends think, but they’re also just beginning to question these dynamics.
A pre-teen might want to befriend the “cool” kids but feel conflicted when they realize their values don’t align. Or they may try too hard to impress friends and feel self-conscious afterward.
Conflicted loyalties: Friendships are often intense at this age, and they might struggle with conflicting feelings if friends argue or if they feel left out.
“I really like hanging out with Sarah, but I know Emma doesn’t. Maybe if I can make them both laugh, we could all just… get along?”
Small gestures: Pre-teens often show they care in understated ways, like sharing snacks, giving a small gift, or cheering someone up when they’re down. For a socially-awkward pre-teen, these gestures may come out clumsy but sweet.
Insecurity and Self-Awareness
Self-consciousness mixed with bravery: Pre-teens often fluctuate between trying to fit in and wanting to stand out. They might do something brave but then doubt themselves or quickly retreat if things don’t go as planned.
For instance, a character might volunteer to speak in front of the class only to feel panicked once they’re in the spotlight.
Hyper-awareness of themselves and others: They’re beginning to notice how others perceive them and may get flustered easily or worry about little things, like if their clothes look okay or if they sounded silly.
“I shouldn’t have laughed like that… I bet everyone thought I sounded so weird.”
Joking as a defense: Pre-teens often use humor to cope, covering up their awkwardness or discomfort by making jokes.
Reactions to Conflict and Emotion
Quick emotional shifts: They might go from laughing to frustrated to embarrassed in just a few minutes. They feel emotions intensely and may have outbursts or react strongly to things adults might dismiss as minor.
Heroic ideals vs. real-world disappointments: Many pre-teens have an idealized view of right and wrong, fairness, and heroism, and they may be disappointed when things don’t align with these ideals. They’re just starting to understand that people aren’t all good or all bad.
“I don’t get it… why would she lie about something like that? Friends are supposed to be honest!”
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boomstab-papa · 2 days ago
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Oh absolutely, giving misogynists captive girlfriends/wives isn't going to fix anything. Being a little more misogynist to try to appease misogynists won't work.
But "giving any credence" is such an interesting phrase to use here, because it's so ambiguous and also accusatory. What does "giving credence" mean? Who has been doing it? What have they been advocating for? Who, for example, has been saying leftists should be more misogynist, and how?
I'm not alone in this confusion, either, there are several comments on the tweet who are equally perplexed.
The fact is that the left DOES NEED a better approach to people who are feeling lost, angry, and scared.
Alt-right "self-help" authors and programs are hugely popular. These predators target lost, scared, and angry people. They're cults, really. And no matter how much the left discusses things like "can we stop parroting bioessentialist bullshit because hey, men aren't destined to be misogynistic assholes"... these alt-right cultists don't ever even have to TALK TO a leftist to repeatedly hear "leftists hate you for being born white/male/rich/etc". I really can't get over how Rush Limbaugh popularized the term "feminiazi" and told an entire generation that feminists were angry man-haters when they literally are not. But that's exactly how the grift works!! I should know, I grew up in exactly this Rush Limbaugh kind of house!!
"Don't blame the hyper-wealthy for ruining the economy, blame women and foreigners for taking all the jobs! Don't blame the ruined economy when nobody wants to have kids anymore, blame the women! Don't blame patriarchy and all the misogyny it taught you when women avoid your misogynist ass, blame the women! Remember, the feminazis hate you!!"
So what to do?
On an interpersonal level, sometimes it can be really easy. This is a comment made to Innuendo Studios's video "How to Radicalize A Normie" on this exact topic (which I highly recommend watching).
"Hey, ex-alt-right member here. First, really like this series. I feel like you’re validating the radicalization that me and my male friends experienced. Putting it into words and showing us how we got tricked, exposing the magician and their tricks. Second, I vot out not through argument and discussion but actually through feelings. I was very edgy and would use the n-word in jokes all the time. My male friends would not call me out on it. But a female friend of mine said it made her uncomfortable and that she didn’t appreciate these jokes when we played fortnite together. That shook me to my core as I cared for my friend and that’s how my deradicaliztion started. Just wanted to add in this personal story, keep up the great work :)"
If this is someone you know, tell them their behavior is not cool.
THIS GOES DOUBLE FOR THE MEN READING THIS. Misogynists are more likely to listen to you than they are to listen to women!! If someone is being a shithead in your vicinity, consider: are you gonna let it slide? Or are you maybe, possibly, going to be the one thing that yanks them out of a hatespiral and prompts them to re-examine their hateful worldview? Tell them "hey not cool".
This might not work the first time. This might not work at all for some people. But if the situation is relatively safe, then it's worth trying.
And this does not mean that you personally are responsible for "centering men in your conversations" or "marginalized people putting in even more emotional labor" or "if a man is misogynist it's because you failed him" what the fuck ever like I've seen in this discourse. Come the fuck on.
It means you can probably try saying something to somebody you know. And if it doesn't work? You can say you tried.
On a policy level, we have more work to do. It shouldn't come as a surprise to any leftist that the current economic and political system in the USA exists to separate and exploit people. I think we all agree it really sucks to live in a system like this. Your average reactionary misogynist also thinks the system sucks, but as explained above, they've been trained to place the blame on some convenient scapegoats instead. Immigrants. Women. Queer people. Muslims. Anybody who's not white. Et cetera. "Government needs to get out of the way of smart people and then Elon Musk will build a utopia for The Faithful (which includes me) on Mars" or some shit.
These people need to hear that their anger is justified, but that their blame is misplaced. They need policies that will hold the responsible parties accountable. They need policies that won't leave them impoverished and isolated and exhausted after working a 40+ hour work week. They need to realize the system isn't sorting people into "the worthy rich" and "the unworthy poor", rather, that it's exploiting everyone except the wealth-owning class. They need to realize it's their politicians' biggest campaign donors that are doing this to them.
The Democratic Party needs to actually talk about this. I'll be dangerously pithy here: the Democratic Party needs to sound more like Bernie Fucking Sanders. Politicians need to oppose health insurance companies and get Medicare For All going. Politicians need to stop voting to give the military two fucking billion dollars every single day and fund free college and trade schools. Politicians need to tell business interests to fuck off and get a livable minimum wage AND a universal basic income passed, which will severely undercut employers' ability to exploit and isolate us.
And we need Citizens United repealed. Badly. I'm not trying to imply the problem is only with Republicans' campaign donors, because Democrats' biggest campaign donors are also often the same people exploiting us. But look at how Democrats did a tiny little bit of pro-union and anti-trust work these past 4 years and they screamed bloody fucking murder. If Democrats are relying on these people's money to get them elected, I think it's going to be really hard to get policies passed that will actually make USAmericans safer and happier (ie. address Republicans' economic fears that they keep blaming on various scapegoats).
Although with Republicans controlling the entire Federal government for the next two years minimum, this feels more distant than ever.
That's what we need to be taking seriously. If you don't give any credence to the fears and insecurities underlying the horrifying reactionary politics, you're not actually addressing anything. If you can't admit that capitalism fucks all of us over and makes all of us miserable and looking for a remedy, are you even a leftist?
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tsuutarr · 1 day ago
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As just imagined then everything as a game and the hero as seeing like a freak by all the people and the reader as the only good and nice npc then treat him well and even give him free item even if our store is not very we still give him a apologize about the others (npcs) being rude with him and the hero being so delusinal the fall over us lol
so, because i have absolutely NO self control, I made another story <3
Yandere! RPG Protagonist x Reader
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Gallius isn’t entirely sure when he gained sentience. Maybe it was when he’d have insistent feelings of déjà vu. Maybe it was when he would want to go somewhere or do something, but an external force prevented him from doing so. Maybe it was when the people he talked to would say the same things over and over and over again.
Regardless, one day, he realized that he doesn’t actually exist – at least, not in a way that matters. He’s just a piece of code, a bunch of pixels moving across the screen, trapped in a video game.
The worst part is that everyone around him – and he means everyone – lacks sentience. It’s gotten to the point that he’s memorized everything. Every dialogue, every story path – everything.
It’s a fruitless life, really, especially since he’s forced to obey his code. He’s forced to go along with whatever the person controlling him wants. He’s forced to be the happy-go-lucky protagonist. He can’t be anything but that.
Gods, he’s going to go insane.
And he’s tried to talk to people, really.
“Hey, so, I think we’re in a game.”
“Beer is fifty percent off, young man.”
Gallius never thought the tavern’s owner could look so lifeless. “So, you know, I guess you really don’t have sentience.”
“Man, can you believe the monster outbreak?”
“Don’t you wish there was a way you could… I don’t know, break free? Talk beyond your code?”
“Beer is fifty percent off, young man.”
Gallius holds back a sigh. The tavern owner says three things exactly. “Beer is fifty percent off, young man”, “Man, can you believe the monster outbreak?”, and “I don’t know if I prefer a full tavern or an empty one!” are the exact phrases the tavern owner recycles. It isn’t just the tavern owner, either. It’s everyone else in town. The blacksmith, the carpenter, the seamstress – all of them.
It kind of drives him insane. Maybe that’s why he tries to find solace in anything he can, like you.
“Gods, I hate being the only one who sees that we’re a pile of code,” he tells you. You’re a cute shopkeep – whoever designed you must be a genius – that he likes to see from time to time. If anything, you’re easy on the eyes, at least.
“Yes, it does appear that you’re having quite the rough time,” you say. He knows you’re just saying one of your coded phrases, he does, but he can’t help but latch on to that piece of support you give.
“Yeah, you get it.” He laughs dryly. “But what can I do? I have to keep going. It’s not like I have a choice.”
“You’re doing well. I’m proud of you.”
Gods, he can’t hide his grin. Yes, you’re just saying one of your phrases, but the comfort your words bring – it’s unreal. It’ll probably be even more unreal if he could actually talk to you. If you both had sentience, if you both could go against your code. The thought makes him fall silent.
“...Hey, I’m gonna leave for a bit. Maybe a long time,” he says finally, determined to help you break away from your code. He doesn’t really care too much about the other NPCs, but you? Oh, he wants you. He wants to talk to you, to be with you in a way that matters.
“Have a safe journey,” you say, automated. You hand him a potion, a freebie from your shop, with a smile. “On the house.”
Gallius smiles, taking the potion from you. Yeah, he’ll find a way to give you sentience like him. That way, you guys can truly be together forever.
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dreamscapeee222 · 23 hours ago
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(I'm new to tumblr, sorry if I'm posting in the wrong place, I hope this is ask box)
I asked you to write about the relationship between the arcane characters and the reader who is very thin due to some health problems?
(Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language)
A/n: Hello!! I did lots of research with your request so I hope my work satisfies what you had in mind ^^
You deal with health problems that affect your weight
Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel
Masterlist
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Vi
She’s not the type to pry. But she notices the little things—the way you don’t finish your meals, the way you curl up a little too tightly, like you're trying to protect yourself from the world. She never asks you about it, but she always makes sure you’ve got something to eat or drink when she knows you’re struggling.
She might drop a sandwich by your side, or hand you a water bottle without saying a word. It’s just her way of saying, “I see you,” without actually saying it.
If you ever get quiet for too long, she’ll be there, sitting next to you without forcing a conversation. It’s not about pushing you to talk—it’s just her letting you know you’re not alone, even in those silent moments.
Jinx
Jinx doesn’t always understand why you’re not at your best, but she feels it. She’s a whirlwind of chaos, always trying to keep you distracted, to keep you laughing. She doesn’t always get it right, but she’s trying, you can tell by the way she keeps pulling you into her nonsense, hoping that a little of her madness will rub off on you.
But there are times when she looks at you, and the mask slips for just a second. She sees how tired you are, how empty you seem sometimes, and in those moments, she doesn’t know how to fix it. But she doesn’t turn away. “You don’t gotta do this alone, okay?” she says, voice softer than usual. It’s a rare vulnerability, the one moment where she lets down the wall and shows you she’s scared too.
She might not know what to say or do, but she’ll always bring something to make you smile—even if it’s just a little.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn’s the quiet type, always paying attention to the little things that others might miss. She watches you—never in a way that feels overbearing, but in a way that shows she’s aware of when something’s off.
She doesn’t press you to talk, but she’ll always offer a gentle reminder that she’s there for you—whether that’s by quietly handing you a cup of tea, leaving a snack where you can easily reach it, or making sure you have time to rest.
She never pushes, but when you catch her looking at you with those soft, patient eyes, you know she’s not going anywhere. "Take it easy,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. And for a moment, you actually believe it’s okay to slow down.
Ekko
Ekko’s the type of person who’s there without being too much. He notices when you’re pushing yourself too hard, and when he sees the signs—when you’re too quiet, when you’re too weak to do what you usually can—he’ll just quietly step in.
He won’t make a fuss, and he won’t ask you if you’re okay every five minutes. Instead, he’ll bring you a blanket when he sees you shivering, a drink when you look like you haven’t had one all day. He knows you don’t need someone to tell you what to do—you just need someone to make sure you don’t fall apart while you're doing it all.
Sometimes, he’ll sit beside you and not say a word. It’s just his presence, calm and steady, and it’s enough to make you feel like maybe everything will be okay. “You’re not alone,” he’ll say without looking at you. And it’s not just words—it’s his way of making sure you never feel like you’re fighting your battles by yourself.
Jayce
Jayce doesn’t know how to make things better when it’s you, and that frustration shows. He wants to fix things, to find the right answer, and he’s always throwing himself into research, into getting you the best treatment, the right food, whatever he thinks might help. But sometimes, it feels like he’s pushing you harder than you want, trying to make everything better without realizing that maybe what you need is just some quiet.
He doesn’t always know how to slow down, but there are times when you catch him looking at you, his expression softening when he sees the exhaustion in your eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, and for once, it doesn’t come off as a demand. It’s a plea—something raw and real in the way he says it.
When you’re too tired to argue, he’ll just stay next to you, offering comfort in his own way. It’s not perfect, but you know he’s trying, and that’s enough for now.
Viktor
Viktor doesn’t say much, but his care shows in everything he does. When he sees you struggling, he doesn’t push you to talk about it. Instead, he quietly takes action—he makes sure your space is organized, makes sure you have what you need, even when you don’t ask for it.
You won’t hear him say, “I’m here for you,” but you’ll feel it in the way he adjusts your pillow without asking, or in the way he slides a cup of tea your way without a word. He’s not the type to crowd you, but he’s always making sure you’re okay in ways that don’t demand attention.
When you do catch him looking at you, there’s a softness in his eyes—an unspoken understanding. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he’ll say quietly, but it’s not just the words that matter. It’s the way he’s already got your back without needing you to ask.
Mel
Mel is the kind of person who knows how to give space without making you feel like you’re invisible. She’s quiet, observant, and when she sees that something’s not right, she’s there—but never in a way that feels like she’s pushing you.
Her care is in the little things—the cup of tea she hands you when you’re not feeling great, the soft touch of her hand on your arm as she sits beside you, giving you time to breathe. She doesn’t expect anything from you, just that you take care of yourself in your own time.
She’ll always remind you that it’s okay to slow down, to rest. “You don’t have to do it all at once,” she’ll say, and the gentleness in her voice makes it feel like everything else can wait. She’ll be there, waiting, until you’re ready to come back to the world.
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livbedum · 24 hours ago
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WHERE’D ALL THE TIME GO?
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CHAPTER ONE
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ new summer , new camp , new people. you were beyond ready to take on the next few months , but you had to get through your first day before that comes.
word count 7.7k
warnings profanity , mentions of underage drinking , sexual innuendos , mentions of a cult.
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CAMP JESSAMINE was going to be your permanent summer camp , you decided. just the drive to get to the campground was a perfect time. your best friend , taylor , was with you— with some persuasion , and the weather was perfect. the windows to your car were rolled down , stereo to the highest volume as it pumped out the tune of your favorite songs.
you and taylor were the type of people that listened to very specific songs that would only ever make the best coming of age movie soundtrack. it was something very special to the two of you ; romanticizing your lives through music.
as you turned onto the driveway before the parking lot in front of the administration building , two weeks by grizzly bear was playing. taylor reached over , twisting the volume knob to lower it as she took in your surroundings.
“this looks much better than skyline ridge did,” she pointed out , leaning out the open window just a bit.
you laughed at the welcomed diss on your old camp. “i don’t think that’s a tough standard to beat , but i do agree. this is a lot nicer,” you replied , rolling to a stop in the gravel lot. there were several cars already parked— some of the staff showing up to help orientation along.
the radio cut silent as you killed the engine before you reached over and grabbed your tote bag. “we need id’s and..?” taylor trailed off , looking through her own bag.
“just our id,” you reassured her, “lets go check in.”
you both clambered out of your car , not having stood on two feet for several hours. your heart was pounding as you made your way to the front door. it was decorated with a banner above shouting, ‘welcome to camp j!’
with one hand clutching taylor’s , you push the door open and step inside. there’s a line of tables with staff members behind them , helping some new staff members sign in and get instructed on where they’d be bunking for the summer. you were silently praying that taylor and you would be close to each other if not paired up.
“hello! welcome on in , guys!” it was a blonde girl , probably your age , waving you two over. her hair was the perfect amount of curled and flowy for it to look naturally effortless , and her smile was practically blinding you as you walked her way. she looked like the human embodiment of sunshine. “hi , what are your names?”
“y/n,” you answered before clarifying, “y/l/n.”
the blonde didn’t even need to look down at the clipboard in her hands before letting out an excited squeal. “ah! you’re my newbie!”
taylor laughed for a moment before covering her lips with a hand. “and me? taylor mcmahon?”
“ooh , you’re with cleo,” sarah— if she was wearing the proper name badge, answered with a smile, “she’s one of my best friends. our cabins are actually pretty close to each other , too. she’s probably in the dining hall right now getting our dinner set up for tonight , but i’m sure you’ll meet her soon. actually , i’m almost done for my shift of signing people in , so if you wanted i could bring you guys around. introduce you to cleo and kiara. she’s another one of my friends who works here.”
while sarah talked and got papers ready , you could feel a good summer coming in your veins. you and taylor were paired up with two best friends and wouldn’t be staying that far a part , and the girl you were paired with seemed plenty nice.
“i think we’d love that,” you smiled back , picking up a pen and filling out the small sheet handed to you. meanwhile , taylor’s eyes were elsewhere.
“who is that?” without looking up , you know she found a boy to ogle from across the room, “and can he be my newbie?”
sarah chuckled for only a moment before she cut herself off. “oh,” she spoke , eyes landing on katherine’s latest find. “that’s—“ you didn’t really listen to who it was , focusing on your form to get it out of the way as fast as possible.
any allergies? no. any food allergies? no. any health conditions that require medication? no. favorite color? green. favorite drink? probably coffee? you finished filling the blanks before slipping the branded pen into your pocket.
“here you go,” you cleared your throat , handing sarah the slip of paper before picking up your bag from the floor, “anything you need to give me?”
sarah grinned , noticing you wouldn’t be a newbie newbie , just someone who hadn’t been to camp jessamine before. “just your name badge , some t-shirts , the cabin key , itinerary , and list of campers!” it was all handed to you in a packet , badge and lanyard laying on the top of it, “let me grab taylor’s and we’ll head over to the cabins.”
taylor took her own packet and lanyard , slipping the blue loop over her neck with a smile. “you know what , y/n/n? i think you were right : this will be a good summer.” her eyes were still trained on the guy at another set of tables.
looking at him now , you could actually scan over him. camp jessamine t-shirt a half size too small , making his arms budge out of the sleeves just a bit ; buzzed hair ; beyond tall ; perfectly tan skin. “you can have ‘im , babe,” taylor started, “i’ll take his friend.”
your eyes shifted ever slightly to the right , taking in the dark skinned boy that just entered the building , immediately going to his friend and dapping him up. “i don’t date guys from camp , tay. that’s like rule number one.”
“you guys ready?” sarah’s voice cut through your conversation.
“let’s go!” taylor beamed , hooking her arm in yours.
leading you back outside through a different door , sarah began her tour. “so we were just in admin , and that is the gymnasium,” she pointed across the way at another bigger building. it had an outside court as well , giving away its title. “over here is the dining hall , so we’ll stop in for cleo.”
she was smiling the whole time , as if this was some paradise , and you couldn’t help but hope that’ll be you next year. “how long have you been a counselor here?” you wondered , looking all around you all while following sarah through the grass.
“forever,” she simply answered, “i think my first actual memory is from this camp. i went every summer growing up ; a lot of us did. the next move was to obviously start working here,” she continued to explain , slowing her pace just a little for you two to keep up. her eyes noticed how you and taylor were trying to take everything in. “and here we are!”
ever the welcoming committee , sarah opened the door and let you walk through. “sare , who you got with you today?” a boy spoke up , heading your way. she quickly kissed him on the lips before ‘presenting’ you and taylor to the few others in the dining hall.
“y/n , taylor , this is john b , cleo , kiara , and pope,” she introduced everyone , pointing at each of her friends, “guys , this is y/n and taylor. y/n is my bunk buddy , and cleo you get taylor!”
“alright , come here , girl! let me check you out,” cleo hyped taylor up before pulling her in for a hug, “i’m not the newbie anymore , y’all.” the last bit was directed to her friends.
you all laughed at her words , knowing almost all of you had felt that feeling before. “were y’all headed to the cabins?” pope had asked , breaking up the chuckles.
“yeah,” you nodded, “sarah wanted to stop and grab cleo before we settle in.” as you answered , your eyes took in the group , sizing them up in a way to get your read on them.
“yo! new chicks just came in and they are hot! saw ‘em with sarah getting—“ two swing doors opened , a guy walking backward through them with boxes in his arms. when he turned and saw the three extra people in the room , he quickly shut up. “hi there! uh— there’s actually like , i don’t know , four other sarah’s who work here,” he lied , stumbling over his words as everyone laughed.
“right , okay. well , that’s jj,” sarah groaned , clearly unimpressed despite her giggles, “j , this is y/n , my roommate. and this is taylor , cleo’s roommate.”
the blonde swiftly flipped his hat to be facing backwards after putting the boxes down on a table. “nice to meet you , ladies,” he smirked , reaching his hands out crisscrossed for you to both shake. being polite , you both meet his hands , shaking them with smiles.
“nice to meet you , jj,” taylor smiled , catching the fact that he was perfectly your type ; catching that fact that you were blissfully aware that he was perfectly your type.
“hi,” you managed to speak , cheeks flushing bright and ears getting hot, “well , we gotta go— gotta go get , um , unpacked,” you stuttered , pointing to the door and stepping away, “sarah?”
your new friend was grinning ear to ear watching you drown , but she quickly came to your rescue. “see you guys later,” she chuckled , coming and grabbing your shoulders before pulling you away. she led you out the front door and to one of the several golf carts. “so that was something.” sarah couldn’t help herself but laugh a little when you were alone.
“i’m going to kill myself if i talk like that all summer,” you joined in on making fun of yourself, “is everyone that volunteers here that hot?” you questioned , thinking back to the guy you saw signing people in.
“yeah , that’s a perk for sure. something in the water on the cut made those pogues fine,” sarah agreed , turning the golf cart on whenever you threw your bags down in the back.
“okay , first of all : what’s the cut? and secondly , what’s a pogue?” you asked , turning in the seat as sarah took off in the direction of your cabin. neither one of those words seemed too endearing.
sarah looked back at you and took a deep breath. “well , we’re all from this island : kildare. on said island , there’s the nice neighborhood which we call figure eight. then there’s the not so nice neighborhood which we call the cut,” she explained as you listened intently, “all of them are from the cut , sparing kie. she’s a born kook.”
“so if you’re from the cut , you’re a pogue , and if you’re from figure eight , you’re a kook?” you recalled , still not entirely understanding the classist labels.
“it’s dumb , but yeah,” sarah nodded simply.
you took the answer for what it was and focused ahead of you. you could see the cabins now. they were set in five half circles , three cabins in a group. in front of them was a fairly large fire pit with handfuls of chairs littered around the area.
“which one are we in?” you questioned as sarah slowed to a stop.
“we’re in cabin number six! cleo and taylor are going to be in four , and kie is in five,” sarah answered , grabbing one of your bags to help you inside.
“these are nice,” you gaped , stepping into the cabin. there were six bunk beds , three on either side of the building. a bathroom in the back , and another door next to it.
“our room is back here,” sarah announced , moving through the cabin towards the last door, “ta-da!”
you set your bags down at the end of the bed that was still available and looked around. sarah had set up her side of the room already , fairy lights across the ceiling , posters on the wall , and her bed all done up.
“okay , these are really , really nice , dude,” you echoed yourself , amazed at how much more money is clearly put into this camp than your last.
sarah waved you off, “eh , it’s whatever,” she laughed, “just kidding. it’s actually insane how fancy this camp is. even i can admit it.”
“my last camp was an actual dumpster fire compared to this,” you admitted , starting to unravel your bedding to make the room seem homier, “packed cabins , shitty food , bunch of old people for camp counselors. jessamine is an upgrade.” sarah sat down on her bed and listened to you with a smile. she liked you already , that wasn’t hard. “and you all seem actually nice too. that’s another perk on top of how hot you guys are,” you continued with a laugh.
jj. you hated you were still thinking about him. that’s not how you ever want your summers to be. summer flings were not on your list of things to do in your twenties. you wanted to completely focus on yourself and getting to where you wanted to be in life. no blonde surfer boy was going to change that.
“so… you’re still picturing jj in that pretty , little head of yours,” sarah read your mind , holding back a cheesy grin when you turned to her.
“i don’t date boys from summer camp,” you simply said , going back to making your bed. the two of you stayed in silence until you had finished setting up your bed and unpacking. you fell into the mattress with a sigh.
sarah’s position on her bed matched yours , completely sprawled out and exhausted. “i feel like this is the first time i’ve gotten to just chill in like a week,” she huffed , staring up at the ceiling.
“yeah , me too,” you agreed, “me and taylor were on a road trip just before we came here , so i’ve been cramped in my jeep for way too long.”
“wait— how old are you?” sarah questioned , sitting up on her elbows to look over at you.
“nineteen. almost twenty,” you answered , copying her actions, “you?”
“twenty…” she replied with a smile, “which means i’m no longer the baby of the group , so thank you for that.”
“it’s okay. i’m used to it,” you mused, “youngest daughter of six. taylor is older than me , and most of the friends i’ve ever made have been too. nothing new to me.”
it was true ; you were quite used to being the ‘baby’ of whatever group you were around. you grew up that way. as much as you hated it , you did get away with a lot more. such as doing what you’re currently doing. your dad was pissed when he got the email you sent him one morning. it was the day you officially packed all of your things and left home. he had decided you were to be a doctor— what kind? he didn’t care , but a doctor nonetheless. you , however , wanted to travel and experience everything you possibly could while snapping pictures and showing the rest of the world. not exactly an easy thing to come to a compromise on.
that was two years ago.
“well , i hated it. the guys would make fun of me all of the time,” sarah laughed now , it not being as sore of a spot for her, “but that makes taylor… twenty?”
“—one,” you finished for her, “she’s like my best friend and big sister all in one.”
“don’t you already have five of those?” sarah recalled , furrowing her perfectly groomed eyebrows.
you looked away for a moment , fairy lights catching your eyes again. “technically , but i don’t really think blood is what makes family,” you shrugged , pushing yourself to sit up entirely, “show me around some more?” it was an obvious attempt at changing the subject , but it worked.
“wanna see the ponies?”
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AFTER ABOUT two hours of sarah showing you around the camp grounds , you found yourself back in your cabin. it was nearly three , so you still had some to yourself before the counselors’ meeting started up before dinner.
you hadn’t seen taylor since you split up at the dining hall , so you were by yourself since sarah had to help with some administrative duties. with your free time , you made the decision to start setting out the things you brought for the girls you’d be mentoring for the summer.
daisy.
amber.
noah.
celeste.
miranda.
kylie.
the first thing on the list was making the covers for their journals. you had pressed three-d stickers on the front , spelling out all of their names. you set the books down on the dressers , pairing each with a disposable camera and pack of pens.
in the bathroom , you had set up a box of essentials. twelve teenage girls in one cabin? it was needed. you hung up a cuter shower curtain , laid down a better floor mat. you were happy with the way everything looked so far , so you moved back into the living area. you set out the mini projector you brought , coloring books and markers , card and board games , bracelet making kits. you were just making the cabin more lived in with plenty of things to do.
you had your headphones in , listening to your own music while you got everything set up. lost in your own world.
“excuse me!”
you jumped , hand clutching your chest as someone pulled one of your headphones from your ear. “holy shit! wow! sorry,” you breathed out , turning to face the person who disrupted your jam session.
“no , i’m sorry,” he replied with a chuckle, “i’m looking for sarah. last i heard she was here , but i guess not.”
“oh , yeah. she went to admin,” you answered , pulling the other headphone out and draping the wire across your shoulders, “i can tell her you stopped by…”
“rafe,” he finished for you , reaching a hand out, “i’m sarah’s brother. cabin seven.”
you nodded with a smile , reaching your hand out for him to shake. he took your hand in his , engulfing it entirely. “y/n. sarah’s roommate. cabin six,” you replied, “just do you know.”
“won’t forget it,” rafe assured you , taking a look around the room, “i like what you’ve done to the place,” he added as he inspected the hanging plant you had hung up.
“i think it’s good for campers to live in a cozy place while they’re away from home,” you explained it , hands coming behind your back as you rocked back and forth on your feet, “i don’t know— it might be dumb.”
“nah,” he immediately dismissed you. he shook his head and looked at you again with a soft smile, “s’cute. see ya around , freshie.”
your eyes trailed after him as he left the cabin , most likely in search of his sister. “see ya , vet!” you called after him , smile still gracing your lips, “jesus , something is in the water around that island.” somehow , rafe looked even better up close than he did when you first got a glimpse of him earlier.
“so you met rafe?”
another voice pulled you out of your thoughts this time. taylor. “thank god,” you sighed , moving to the bedroom and flopping on your now made bed. taylor laughed to herself , following in suit and cuddling up next to you. your arm draped over her stomach , holding your friend close.
“what’s going on , bug?” she asked , dragging a loose lock of hair out of your face, “talk to mama.”
“i think i miss my sisters?” you hummed , staring off at the wall lazily, “which is ridiculous. most days , i would rather go back to cult skyline , but i don’t know. sarah and i somehow brought that up for a moment , and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“okay…” taylor nodded, “do you want my advise or or me to just listen?” god , she knew you so well.
you just sighed deeply , letting all of the air in your lungs leave your body. “i just wanna sit here for a second. take a minute before the kids get her in two days,” you shrugged.
the two of you laid in bed for a while— you weren’t sure how much time had passed until your phone started going off to let you know it was nearing five. you groaned , reaching over a sleeping taylor and grabbing your phone to shut your alarm off.
“tay , time for the meeting,” you spoke , nudging her awake. she groaned , stretching out her body as she came to. “let’s go meet everyone else.”
“yeah , yeah. i’m coming,” she promised , pushing herself up as you did the same.
despite taking the golf cart to the cabin , the walk back over to admin wasn’t all that bad. cleo had met up with you , formally introducing herself to you. it wasn’t long before you were sat around another fire pit the camp had with the rest of the camp leaders.
“all right , everyone! how we doin’?” the woman still standing clapped her hands together , and you recognized her as marsha , the person you were communicating with before you got to jessamine. everyone applauded , hooting and hollering in excitement. “okay , okay. so to start summer off , i just wanna go over a few rules. i know— i know , boring rules. boo. however , once i get them out of the way , all of the fun begins so…”
“she’s just like meagan,” taylor leaned over and whispered to you , referring back to one of the administrators from camp skyline.
you chuckled under your breath before facing back to marsha as she continued. “… no letting kids have sex , no letting kids do drugs or drink alcohol , no letting kids sneak out around camp by themselves in the middle of the night , and finally : absolutely no fraternization between counselors!” she made it a point to shout the last rule louder than the others, “cameron , maybank , i’m looking right at ya both , okay?”
the boys smirked to themselves , a few other guys patting their backs. you were sat somewhere in between them , getting a chance to look at both. jj was laughing with john b , smacking each other back in forth in argument as to who was the bigger camp slut. they agreed on the blonde.
and rafe , he was with his friends you hadn’t met yet. they were dapping him up , congratulating him on his many conquests over the years.
“now that we’ve all agreed on not fornicating on property , let the games begin!” marsha smiled, “you all know how this works. for you newcomers , you’ll pick up just fine. get with your cabin mate and check your emails. scavenger hunt begins… now!”
everyone shot out of their chairs , finding their partners if they weren’t already sat with them to start the game. when you got to sarah , who was only a few chairs away , she already had her phone pulled out with the email pulled up.
“okay , so this is what we do every year on the first night of camp,” she started , handing you her phone to look at the list, “winner gets to have their cabin get their meals before everyone else does for the first two weeks. it actually gets pretty intense.”
you laughed , handing the phone back to its rightful owner and smiling. “let’s win then.”
“alright! i like you a lot , miss y/n/n,” sarah replied , bumping your shoulder with hers. she started walking , so you kept up with her. taking advantage of the golf carts , sarah plucked the keys out of the cup holder and started one up. “we gotta start at the end. marsha thinks we don’t know , but she puts the list in order of location. the further down the list , the further it is from home base.”
“sounds like we’re going to come out on top then,” you commented, “drive faster.”
“back to the ponies we go,” sarah nodded , pushing her foot down on the gas pedal.
you sped off , passing several counselors that were on foot , including rafe. he was with the boy from check in that taylor was checking out and another blonde.
“sare , you know that shit’s practically cheating,” rafe yelled at his sister , causing her to slow down to a complete stop.
“really?” sarah feigned innocence. her big , brown eyes practically sparkled as she looked at rafe.
you leaned forward to look past sarah and at the guys standing next to your cart. “i don’t think marsha ever said that it’s not allowed,” you chimed in , pretending to think back in time, “so we’re gonna go win real quick , and we’ll see ya when we’re passing you in line for dinner.”
it was almost despicable how sweet your smile was compared to your competitive words. rafe eyed you up and down , not bothering to hide his gaze. “sounds like sarah’s already rubbing off on you , sweetheart. better get away from her before it gets worse,” he joked, “have you met kelce and topper yet , honey?” his hand pointed back to his friends , who were impatiently waiting for rafe to shut the hell up.
“no , she hasn’t,” sarah answered for you, “and also screw you. have fun losing again this year!”
with that , sarah hit the gas and drove you away from her brother. her hand flew up , waving bye as she laughed along with you. “god , please don’t take anything that boy says to heart,” she advised , looking over at you with a serious expression all over her face.
“what do you mean?”
“well…” she started, “y’know how marsh called him and jj out for being camp’s biggest whores? she’s not kidding. i love jj , and i love rafe , but those boys can’t keep it in their pants to save their lives. and they’ll say pretty much whatever to get into someone else’s. that includes sweet talkin’ you like rafe was trying to do with his ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ and shit,” she continued explaining, “just be cautious.”
you nodded slowly , taking her words as gospel. every summer camp ever has one or two counselors that fuck like rabbits , but it was your luck that you found them both attractive here. good thing you had your one rule. no dating boys from camp.
it was simple and definitive.
it was clear you and sarah were going to finish before the rest of the counselors by the time you got to the last scavenge point on your list. it was at the fire pit by the cabins in plain view. sarah took a quick picture of you standing next to the fire and holding up the medallion that was placed on the bricks. finally , you were able to hop on the golf cart and head to home base.
“so there’s this party the counselors do every first night of camp , and i think you should come,” sarah spoke up as you steered your way passed the others.
“there’s not a party on the itinerary,” you replied , already having the next few days memorized.
she laughed at you gently , patting your thigh. “babe , it’s not exactly something marsha knows about,” she explained, “it’s , like , a right of passage for the leaders to get drunk off their asses before the kids come. i mean , we usually have kick backs on the weekends , but this welcoming party is much different.”
“different how?” you asked , furrowing your eyebrows, “party’s a party.”
“well , it’s bigger. every single leader comes to it. hangouts on the weekends are usually split up amongst us and our little groups , so this one is the party.”
“yeah , sure. i mean , it would be dumb to miss out on it,” you chuckled with a shrug , pulling up to the administrative office you had been in hours and hours ago.
the blonde let out an excited squeal , yanking you into a hug before hopping off the cart and running into the building. you stayed still , waiting for her to come back out. “first in line , baby!” she shouted , raising her fists into the air as soon as she stepped out the door.
you cheered and laughed with her , turning the golf cart off and getting out. “i love you , sarah cameron,” you confessed , pulling her into a hug.
it was only one day , and you were convinced she might be your person. she had divulged you into all of her stories and drama and didn’t feel the need to hide anything from you so far. she gave you space when you wanted it earlier. she was good. “i love you too,” she replied with a smile, “lets go gloat!”
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AFTER SARAH rubbed the win in her brother’s face , while you stayed back and watched it , you met up with the pogues. thankfully , taylor was still with cleo. you immediately pulled her to the side.
“okay , you’re pulling me,” she grumbled , stepping along with you.
“there’s a party tonight,” you stated.
“yeah , there’s one every year. they were just telling me about it,” taylor shrugged, “we going?”
“well , yeah , but on top of that rafe was flirting with me,” you blurted out , cheeks rosy from the thought of the interaction before and after the game.
taylor nodded slowly , glancing back at your new friends before looking in your eyes. “what about jj ‘perfect for you’ maybank?” she asked , nodding to the blonde boy , who was trying to wrestle with cleo.
“no , no. that’s the point. i don’t want anything to do with either of them,” you groaned , dropping your head back for a moment, “so i need you to cockblock if anything happens.”
“all summer? why don’t you just put on a frickin’ chasity belt?” taylor whined.
you rolled your eyes. “just for tonight. hopefully , rafe will catch on , and leave me alone. as for jj , i’ll just be his friend.”
“just lead him on?” taylor corrected you, “he was already bothering me about you. asking me all sorts of questions.” there was a smile in her words , trying to push you to go for it like she always did when it came to the cute boys at camp.
“not happening,” you simply stated , shaking your head, “just cockblock this once , and i’ll , like , suck your dick or something. i don’t know , just help me. because my roommate’s brother giving me slutty eyes and smiles the three times i’ve met him is not on my agenda , taylor. especially after sarah told me he’s kind of a douchebag.”
“okay , okay. you’re so uptight,” taylor agreed, “and now that you mention it , cleo and kiara were saying the same sort of things ‘bout him , so fine. i’ll cockblock.”
just as you two finished up , jj called out to you. “ladies , c’mon! dinner time!” he waved you both over. taylor sent you a look before jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. you headed that way , noticing jj stayed behind in wait. “i see congratulations are in order,” he smiled at you , walking in step with you.
“it was all sarah , really,” you smiled coyly.
he was cute. taylor was right about that. his unruly blonde hair shoved under a beat up , red cap. combat boots pires with a cut off tee. you hated that you were so obviously eyeing him. even more when he said something again.
“you can take a picture you know.” there was a smile evident on your face , eyes gentle as he looked at you like you looked at him.
you just blushed , walking a little faster. “dinner smells good!” you commented , opening the door and rushing in to find sarah or taylor.
you all went through the line , shoving yourself in between the girls so jj couldn’t talk to you. sarah and kiara led you to a table , and you were able to eat. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you were sat down.
“cleo , i think i’m in love with you,” you groaned , taking another bit of the sandwich.
“girl , this is nothing,” kie cut in, “you should’ve been here last year. she went all out!”
“i was trying to make a good first impression,” cleo shrugged with a smile , like her cooking skills were mediocre and not something you’d dreamt of before.
“so…” john b started, “taylor told me you guys used to go to some camp in tennessee?” his question was directed at you.
you nodded , covering your mouth as you swallowed the oversize bite you just took. “mmhm,” you hummed, “skyline ridge.” you answered.
“how come you came here?” pope asked this time.
“turns out it was a baby cult,” you admitted , feeling your ears turn hot at the statement. it was kind of embarrassing how you didn’t realize until after. but who’s to blame you? you were a kid. “like , it wasn’t obvious until you left , you know?”
“kinda like the kooks!” jj pointed out with his fork.
taylor shook her head, “no , it was a little more established than your classist island drama , jj.”
“yeah , it was bad , but who cares? we’re here now,” you smiled simply.
soon enough , you all finished your meals and split up yet again to get ready for the not-so-secret secret party. sarah and you were alone again , trading clothes and trying to find a good outfit for each other.
“hey , so i know we just met and all,” sarah began , shyly twist a skirt in her hands, “but i could tell there was something bothering you when we were getting dinner. everything okay?”
god , she was so sweet.
you paused , adjusting the shirt you had switched into before looking at her. “taylor’s convinced i should get a boyfriend this summer. specifically jj , and i’m just , i don’t know , that’s just not for me.”
she nodded , perching on the edge of her bed. “why not?” it was an innocent question.
“i don’t stay in one place too long ever. i think summer camp is the only place i’ll stick around for longer than a few weeks,” you answered , sitting on your bed to face her. clothes were scattered around the both of you , but your eyes locked and it was all left behind. “ever since i ran away , i haven’t stopped to look back. there’s no reason. i travel the world and do my own thing. boys just drag ya down,” you think you explained it well enough.
“i think the right boy could lift you up , if you let him,” sarah philosophied with a sneaky smile, “on that note , i’m gonna go meet up with john b. i’ll see you at the party , y/n/n.”
you waved goodbye , watching her walk out the back door and skipping over to cabin eight. you took a deep breath , mulling over all of the options your friends had been giving you all day.
by yourself , you finished getting ready. to be completely honest , you didn’t know if you wanted to go as much anymore. it was dark , and you didn’t know your way through these woods enough to go alone. you could easily just cozy up in bed and read a book.
a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you rushed over , opening the wooden slab as you poked your earring through its hole. when the door opened , it revealed none other than rafe. “hey,” he greeted you , waiting for you to invite him in before he moved. he watched as you put another earring in.
“hi,” you replied , moving to the side to let him come in away from the bugs, “looking for sarah?”
he let out a chuckle , nodding his head. “yeah… she said she’d go on a beer run with me,” he explained , shoving his hands into his pockets after closing the door.
“she left for the lake , like , twenty minutes ago,” you grimaced , continuing to get ready while rafe stood in the cabin area. you shrugged on a crocheted cardigan and stood in front of him. “how do i look for my first party?”
his deep blue eyes scanned over your figure , taking their time to drink you in. your legs were exposed as you wore a pair of shorts you obviously cut yourself. the bralette-esque top sarah let you borrow covered hardly anything. the cardigan was your saving grace for any modicum of modesty. his fingers found his lips , rubbing them almost in an attempt to physically stop any nasty comments from flying out.
“you look real good , freshie,” rafe complimented you, “uh— i’ll let you get to the party. see ya,” he stammered out , reaching for the door handle.
“oh , well i can go with ya. since sarah ditched you,” you offered up , promptly getting him to stop opening the door. you don’t know what changed in the last minute for you to go from wanting to stay in for the night to wanting to join the camp whore on a beer run , but it was already offered.
“if you wanna. i mean , it’s just a beer run , so it shouldn’t take long,” rafe nodded, “i’ll have you back to your little pogues in no time.”
“you guys and your kooks and pogues,” you rolled your eyes , running back into your room to grab your phone and camera, “you do realize you’re all nobodies outside of that little island , right?” you questioned him , brushing past his body to slip out the door.
“you wouldn’t understand,” rafe sighed , following you outside before taking the lead to his truck.
“try me,” you pressed. you were walking passed everyone— going against the grain. you both waved to a few of the people who said hello first , and then your eyes lock on jj’s.
he was walking with pope and kiara , but his eyes were trained on your movements and who you were with. and you don’t know why , but your heart actually stung a little bit when you saw him tear his eyes away from you , going back to talking to his friends like nothing happened.
nothing did happen.
it’s a beer run with a fellow camp leader. big deal.
“so?” you nudged rafe with your elbow, “what’s this big thing between kooks and pogues my tiny mind just don’t understand!” you were being theatrical , and rafe chuckled a little bit before shoving you a little in the direction of his truck that came into view.
“it’s always been that way. the island was always the rich and the poor,” he began to explain, “but i think right now is the most polarized it’s ever been. i mean , we’re getting into fights all of the time. jj got arrested for sinking topper’s boat a couple of years ago! it’s all eye for an eye back home.”
rafe stopped to open the passenger door for you before moving around and climbing behind the wheel. you buckled up and looked at him. “you know that saying though?”
“hmm?” he hummed.
“if it’s always eye for an eye , eventually everyone is blind?” you mused , waiting for him to pick up on it.
“okay,” he rolled his eyes now, “you don’t get it.”
“no! hey , don’t pout,” you pointed at him when he focused more on the roads than the conversation , which usually you’d be grateful for a responsible driver , but you can only assume he usually isn’t. “it’s not me making fun of you as much as it is telling you there is a big , big world out there that doesn’t give a damn if your from the cut or the loop or whatever the fuck you call it.”
“figure eight,” he corrected you , fixing his pouty lips into a smile as he glanced at you again.
“whatever— do you have a fake? if not , i do , so we can get the beers,” you changed the subject.
and he laughed at you. “baby , i don’t need a fake id.”
“oh , well , okay. how old are you?” you stuttered at the nickname. what was with this man and terms of endearment?
“twenty-three.” he leaned over and gave you the biggest , toothiest smile.
“old man,” you scoffed , pushing his head away from you, “you should be old enough to realize that—“
“that the stupid generational rivalry is pointless. yeah , yeah,” he finished for you, “just let me buy you some drinks for the party and be happy about it,” he joked.
“oh , i don’t drink,” you shook your head.
that’s what got him to look at you fully. “shit— sorry , i didn’t mean to offend you. it’s just , i don’t know , you offered to come with me , so i guess i just assumed,” he rambled off as you started giggling.
his brows furrowed in confusion , not understanding what was funny or why you were laughing at him. “i’m kidding , ray,” you laughed , patting his head gently, “of course i drink. why else would i have a fake , doofus?”
with the relief that you weren’t actually making fun of him , rafe was able to laugh along with you. he did take notice of the nickname you gave him , though. “ray,” he whispered.
“like sunshine , ya know? it’s an oxymoron,” you explained, “and it could easily be an actual nickname for you , so it’s perfect.”
“ray like sunshine,” rafe echoed with a nod, “how exactly is that an oxymoron?”
you looked at him with a sly smile. “you’re not exactly cheery.”
“uh uh!” he argued back, “i can be cheery as fuck!”
you let out a belly laugh , tilting your head back , and rafe thinks he’s met his maker when you do. “i would looooove to see you be anything but flirty with me or grouchy with sarah. truly , i’d enjoy it,” you remarked , shifting your seat a little.
“there’s a lot you haven’t seen from me yet,” rafe remarked , proving your point of only ever being cheeky or grumpy.
“exhibit a,” you pointed, “i’m gonna start keeping count.” the two of you chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot ( of what you assume is ) the closest liquor store to camp.
“c’mon , honey. you’re mrs. rafe cameron if anyone asks,” he included you in his little scheme as if it was a necessity to this beer run. he hopped out of the truck , opening your door once again for you to slide out and land on the ground. “after you,” he smiled , opening the business’ door.
“okay , my ray of sunshine husband,” you playfully scrunch your nose , walking into the store. he was already trying to be ‘sunshiney’ after your comment.
you paused when you stepped in , waiting for rafe to drag you through the store as you’d never been. “follow me,” he simply said , grabbing your hand like he’d done it all his life , like you weren’t two total strangers. it was that moment that made you realize you were starting to break your own rules. well , maybe you didn’t realize it realize it , but in the back of your head? you did.
he lead the way to the back cooler , stepping inside and grabbing a case of beer and one of the seltzers. “you want anything specific?” he looked over to you , seeing you standing in the door way , holding yourself tight at the temperature change. “c’mere,” he gestured to himself and opened his arm.
despite yourself , you moved quickly to him and snuggled into his side. his hand ran up and down your arm , trying to warm you up. “grab whatever you want , and we’ll get outta here.”
your hand reached for a case of ciders , but you paused to look up at him for approval. he nodded and grabbed it before you could and ushered you out of the cooler.
“id please,” the cashier spoke monotonously , looking at you and rafe like you were idiots.
“marco , i literally come here every year. we have this conversation every year,” rafe groaned , digging in his pocket for his wallet.
“and up until two years ago , you were just another jessamine shit head underage drinking,” marco joked , nodding to you, “id , hon.”
“oh—“ you started , but rafe cut you off.
“hey , she’s good,” he nodded , sending marco a message you couldn’t quite read yet, “mrs. cameron isn’t old enough yet. she’s just along for the ride. right , baby?” he continued with his lie , wrapping his arm around you again and squeezing you tight.
marco rolled his eyes , knowing rafe was going to slip him a crisp if he just processed the purchase. “have a good night , y’all,” he grumbled. you muttered a small reply , waving meekly as rafe set a hundred dollar bill on the counter. he tapped it once before grabbing the cases of drinks.
you held the door open for him this time , seeing as his arms were full. “m’lady,” you jested , even bowing before him as he walked through the exit with a scoff.
“shut up,” he chuckled , shaking his head. he set the drinks in the back seat and opened your door. “git on up,” he tapped your back before closing the door— only after making sure nothing of yours was in the way.
rafe wasn’t too sure why he was being all gentlemanly with you. maybe it was because he wanted to prove you wrong when you said he was just a flirt or a grouch. maybe it’s the way you were someone that didn’t know him yet , and he could be someone else for once.
hell , wasn’t that what summer was for?
the drive back was calm. you and rafe just chatted , asking each other questions and really listening to the other one’s answers.
you couldn’t help but think to yourself that maybe everyone else had got it wrong. rafe had depth. you listened to the way he talked about his work , his aspirations , his ideologies. he wasn’t just some camp whore you were so easily labeling him earlier.
“you know what , hubby?” you hummed , hand out the window , surfing the air. your head was rested against the seat , but you turn to look at him with a smile on your face.
“what ever is on your mind , dear?” he replied , goofy smile matching yours as did his tone. the ongoing joke between you two made you giggle before continuing.
“i think you might be one of the most complex people i have ever met,” you confessed genuinely , sweetly almost. and like it wasn’t the best , most heartfelt compliment anyone had ever given rafe , you turned forward again , closing your eyes to just feel the wind passing you by.
rafe held back a grin to himself , mimicking you and just focusing on the road to give you a quiet rest of the ride back. the peaceful kind of quiet rafe didn’t even believe existed.
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a/n here it is! please let me know if you hate it or love it or have ideas!!! also: tea me posting this earlier than i expected:)
taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @viennafantasies @cnnamongrl @embersfae @enchantingexile @urbrunettebombshell @wearemadeofstardust0 @psychicnatural @ecstqzy @ssqra @st4rkeyl0ver @shincidios
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zorbik-guligan · 2 days ago
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Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did
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anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??
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jason todd with a partner who’s into skincare/haircare
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he didn’t know people actually did those 10 step korean skincare routines until he met you
he goes over to your place one day and sees all of the products in your bathroom and is like how could you possibly use all of these
he grew up with a broke mom and then a bunch of men, even billionaire bruce wayne doesn’t really do much besides some fancy hair products maybe
will probably be a bit skeptical like he lowkey thinks it’s a scam because no way do you need that many products just for your face
but if you sit him down and explain everything i think he’ll understand (or at least he understands that it’s important to you. don’t expect him to become a skincare expert overnight)
thinks you’re kinda cute when you’re doing your routine, like with your little headband and how focused you are while you’re doing it
will loiter around in the washroom, spend extra long brushing his teeth so he has an excuse to watch you
he will 100% laugh at how goofy you look when you put on a face mask though
make him wear one and suddenly he isn’t laughing anymore
if you try to make him do a whole skincare routine he’s going to grumbling the whole time but he’ll still do it
still thinks it’s kind of unnecessary (“why are we washing our face to make it dry to slap on wet stuff?”)
he lowkey does enjoy it though
he doesn’t have too many skin problems (i feel like he did have acne as a teenager but he grew out of that) besides maybe like his skin being on the dry side
definitely has ashy elbows and knees too
so at the very least he appreciates the moisturizarion, but he doesn’t really get the other stuff
feel like he’ll stick to just splashing his face with water or going like “i wash my face when i shower” but when you’re doing your routine he’ll steal some of your moisturizer
i think as time goes on, he’ll really like the domesticity of the whole nighttime routine thiugh
like shower, blow dry hair, brush teeth, skincare
luckily he’s not a 2 in 1 type of guy but that’s only because he straight up didn’t understand what conditioner was for
and i feel like he would just buy one of those costco sized bottles of body wash, like a neutral scented one so he doesn’t have to think about restocking (also it’s the most price efficient)
will tease you if you have fancy shampoo and conditioner
but who’s going to steal it after all of that teasing? he is
i think he just does it accidentally but ends up finding the smell really comforting (reminds him of you) and also his hair feels weirdly nice
might use it once in a while
definitely see him enjoying having his hair blow dried and also blow drying your hair
it’s a weirdly intimate act
also i feel like he’s not big on words, so sometimes he does other things to show he cares for you
like just the little things
he knows you take your skincare routine seriously, so if there’s ever a day when you feel too tired to do it, he knows something is up
will probably try to gauge what the situation is, like whether it’s a problem with work or school, if you want to talk about; or if it’s just been a long day
will help you to the washroom and if you’re too tired, will do your skincare for you
he’s watched you enough times to kind of know what he’s doing
personally hc that he has to get used to the change in his body and physical strength after the lazarus pit so he’s careful to be as gentle as possible
handles you like you’re on the verge of breaking
he’ll tie your hair into a loose ponytail (he knows it could be tighter but he’s kinda worried that it’ll hurt if he does another loop), keep the headband stretched as he pulls it over your head so that it doesn’t make contact with your face
makes sure the water isn’t too hot (you have to assure him that if the water is a little hot it won’t kill you and that for the oil cleanser to come off properly he’s going to need to make it hotter) and rubs the softest circles into your face
i think he’s focusing on this too much to be talkative
it’s kinda cute watching him struggle with some of the products
he’s trying to remember the order of the products and where on your face you put each one
you might have to give him pointers from time to time
i think he starts giving you obnoxious kisses all over your face as you’re trying to do your skincare to tease you
but after a few times i don’t think it’s a joke anymore…
will accidentally taste some serum and be traumatized though (please do not try to eat skincare!!)
will stick to your lips
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carbonfiction · 2 days ago
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Dark Desires
older, best friends dad!Logan x reader
summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..
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warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.
A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.
Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)
Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.
You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.
You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?
But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?
You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.
You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.
You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.
You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.
One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.
Everyone had laughed, all except you.
You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.
You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.
But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?
So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.
You: I need something.
You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.
But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.
It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.
Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.
That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.
Logan: You need to go to sleep
Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.
But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?
You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.
Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.
You: sorry. Wrong number.
And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.
Logan: Is that true sweetheart?
Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.
You: No
Just that. A simple No.
Logan: You telling a lie?
You: Not exactly
Logan: So you wanted my attention then?
You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.
And yes, you know need is a very strong word.
Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.
You: what if i want something dangerous.
You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.
A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.
But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.
Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?
And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.
You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.
Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.
You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.
You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.
Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.
Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.
She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.
Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.
And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.
The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency
But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.
Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'
You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.
Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.
Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.
You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.
Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.
Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.
Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.
You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.
Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.
Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.
You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.
Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.
So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?
when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.
Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.
You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.
You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.
His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.
But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.
His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.
He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.
And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.
"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.
Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.
"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"
Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.
"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.
"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.
"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.
Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.
"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.
"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"
With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.
Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"
You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.
"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."
And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.
It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.
Used and humiliated around logans cock.
Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.
He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."
Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm
"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.
"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."
"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"
You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.
"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"
and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .
But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow
you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.
Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.
The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.
"Kitty!"
Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.
"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"
Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.
Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."
No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.
Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.
"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"
You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."
You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.
"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"
You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.
it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.
Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.
Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.
"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"
You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.
You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.
thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333
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