#i’m exaggerating he’s FINE
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also for the record i started my entire pjo/hoo binge to re-evaluate people’s opinions on jason grace. i was like surely he can’t be that bad we must just be mad at him because he’s not percy.
i’m on the lost hero now.
i’m joining the war on jason hate on the side of jason hate THIS BOY—
#i’m exaggerating he’s FINE#he and piper are FINE. like they’re interesting and complex characters#but also they are just NOT my kind of characters and i hate how mean they are to leo#and then when you contrast it with how fucking banger the trio dynamic between the son of neptune crew is#it’s like. EH. like jesus christ leo valdez just tackled his trauma AND rebuilt a MASSIVE BRONZE DRAGON#while you two moped about nothing for an entire night#i like piper vastly more than jason. but they both irritate me#STOP FOLLOWING ARBITRARY RULES!!! BE NORMAL!!!!#hoo#tlh#jason grace
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I’m sorry I genuinely cannotttttt understand how some ppl bash joe even in a joking manner. Like the poor guy did nothing wrong (that we know of) but so many ppl are making such snide remarks by comparing him to Travis which is not only condescending but actually kind of mean! HELLO did we listen to the same reputation album??? You can’t praise Travis for letting Taylor bejeweled and then rip joe to shreds in the same breath when joe was the one there for her in a clearly difficult and trying time in her life
#the ripping to shreds is a little exaggerated cuz there’s not that much vitriol behind it#but I just find the callous attitude to be so disgusting and insincere#like the love for Travis is sooo much rn I can’t imagine ppl hating him if they broke up#but I couldn’t imagine that for joe either#and another thing I think has to do with how public they are which is fine#but because ppl see so much physical proof of Travis being loving it somehow automatically proves joe wasnt#he was a private man! let him be!!#and if that wasn’t smth Taylor liked/struggled with she dealt with it like the grown woman she is#I’m not saying she didn’t face any kind of emotional stress in that r/ship#but if she did/going off of her songs she dealt with it like an adult#and now that chapters closed and ofc we can still talk abt joe but the subtle menace towards him is sooo immature#like some ppl rlly need to grow up/touch grass#and I’m not hating on travis like him not being there in 2016 is not a dig towards him#it’s just pointing out who WAS there which a lot of ppl seem to be forgetting#joe alwyn#travis kelce#taylor swift
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Sorry for going nuts in your askbox last night, however I just reread those tags and I'm back because I can't stop thinking about that tree
And about how slowly draining Zoro of his will would make him,, almost unrecognizable as Zoro.
What's the point if I'm never going to be strong enough to protect everyone? I might as well nap forever...
It's living in my head rent free it's such a good concept it's so fucked up I'm obsessed
Nooooo dont say sorry I was so excited to get your messages. I’ve had a busy busy morning so I havent had time to answer them but know I am very glad that you liked my ideas. You’re very sweet with all this encouragement.
AND LIKE YEAH I think on his daily basis, Zoro feels very fulfilled by his dream, hardships and all. But that doesn’t mean he just shrugs off every harrowing defeat. You can see very clearly that the stick with him, specially Kuma who represents a legit trauma to him (in the most in-your-face way, he had a flashback and was frozen in terror the next time he saw him). These moments don’t outnumber nor outweigh the good things about his life and his adventure, but I think if you pushed him just right, and played your cards right, you could convince him that they do. Make that iron will waver juuust long enough to get some good character exploration and angst out of it
#I always feel like I’m gonna get accused of reading too much into it or like#exaggerating for the sake of angst#when I say Zoro has been legitimately traumatized and that I want to see that explored if not in canon then in fic#I’m not trying to do that I’m not an angst for the sake angst type of girlie#but when I look at scenes of like. his whole body seizing up involuntarily when he looks at Tashigi and Kuma#or the way he reacted to being told Luffy lost a fight in Punk Hazard despite Luffy looking /fine/#listen#it’s possible for someone who loves a sport to go into it knowing they could get hurt#it’s possible that after being hurt they still love the sport and want to go right back to it#that doesn’t mean making that choice to go back every time isn’t difficult#it doesn’t mean your body and your brain wont try to stop you from reliving the pain you felt. both still treat it like trauma#call up your local horse girl she’d know what I’m talking about#and what I’m going for when I describe Zoro’s reactions to trauma and possible PTSD#AGAIN WITH THE LONG ASS TAGS ON AN ASK SKHDJSKD you sly dog you’ve got me monologuing#one piece#ask#my post
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just cancelled out my brother’s vote 😕
#yes yes ikik he’s the worst#last time i tried talking politics with him my whole house became ww3 i’m not exaggerating#but it’s fine my household net for kamala is +2 bc i radicalized my mom and larry#marie.txt
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i’m partway through case one of apollo justice and here are my collected apollo facts:
he is:
loud
trans
short (see point two)
just some guy
controlled by me
stupid (see point five)
fine
and your honor, i love him
#ace attorney#aa4#apollo justice#i was sure the fandom was exaggerating. surely he doesn’t mention his chords of steel not thirty seconds after you meet him.#surely he doesn’t constantly assert how fine he is as a coping mechanism#no y’all were right#i have such affection for both him and beanix. i’m so excited for this game
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Not so fun fact about my life: My dad has a really bad memory due to some childhood trauma. He’s also incredibly self-confident and forceful when it comes to his opinions/perception of things. Because of this combination of traits, he frequently will say with utter confidence that something did or didn’t happen and react incredulously when you respond that it didn’t/did, telling you that you’re over exaggerating.
My dad is the only person I’ve ever heard of who gaslights people completely by accident
#like. he’s not doing it on purpose#he just legit doesn’t remember most smaller details#and since he’s got a bit of ‘hysterical woman’ misogyny brain poisoning#he often tells me I’m exaggerating how often things happen#when I know for a fact they do happen fairly often#but I’ve got such issues with self-assuredness that I’ll often assume I’m reading something wrong anyway#good times#redlady speaks#(things are fine at the moment I just saw a post about poor memory and gaslighting and wanted to get this off my chest)
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a good man
{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
“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 to 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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I do love my brother but I just don’t love living with him
#but what can you do#I can’t get an apartment for myself. yet#and even though he’s been working for longer than me he also doesn’t have savings to leave#plus it wouldn’t make sense bc my parents still help with paying stuff in the apartment#I feel that he’s sometimes inconsiderate and doesn’t care about how I would feel with some things he does#and fine some things might not be a big deal for him but they sort of are for me#like we made a deal that we would try to kee the kitchen clean and wash the dishes we use#this week he hasn’t washed a single dish and I’m not washing them for him bc no#the kitchen is a bit of a mess and I always try to clean up after myself to avoid that#he doesn’t like to take out the trash even though the trash shoot is a few feet outside our door#I’m just annoyed and the few times I’ve tried talking to him he says he’ll do it and we’re fine for maybe a week#but then it’s back to the mess#or he will act extremely offended and say I’m exaggerating#my parents are visiting on Friday so hopefully the apartment it’s still a bit of a mess so my parents can talk to him#but at the same time I know that he doesn’t care what my mom says bc he’ll say the same thing#but he’ll probably listen to my dad#I’m just tired and annoyed ok#I want to live alone and decorate my own place the way I like it#mariana.txt
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Husband?
About: How does he react when you accidentally call him your 'husband'? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)
RAFAYEL
The evening was going smoother than expected, considering Rafayel had dragged you along to one of his many gallery showings. He had made a big deal about how you should be the one showing off his work to the public, claiming he didn’t want to deal with the “art-snobs." Yet, the second you both arrived, he quickly preoccupied himself on his phone, leaving you to handle most of the small talk.
One of the visitors, a curious older woman, was admiring a painting of his, a chaotic burst of color with soft hints of golden light. You were discussing Rafayel’s "creative process" (whatever that was—he hadn't told you much before retreating to his phone), when she asked how long you’d been working with him.
“Oh, it’s been a while now. It’s honestly amazing seeing him grow like this—my husb—” You froze mid-sentence, realizing the slip just as it left your mouth.
"Husband?"
The word hung in the air for barely a second before you felt Rafayel’s presence shift. His head shot up like a bolt of lightning, his playful, cunning eyes locking onto yours. You could practically feel his grin before you even dared to glance over. You didn’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze burning into you, practically shouting, Oh? Husband, you say?
“Husband, huh?” Rafayel drawled, pocketing his phone and sauntering toward you with that signature smirk of his. “I didn’t realize we were making things official tonight. If I’d known, I’d have worn something even more dazzling.”
You flushed, attempting to stammer out a correction, but he was far too pleased to let you off the hook that easily. He leaned casually against the gallery wall, one arm crossing his chest as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.
He gently took your hand in his, his dramatic flair dialed up to maximum as he pressed an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, clearly relishing the moment. "I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised. Who wouldn’t want to marry someone as charming as me?"
The visitor chuckled awkwardly, clearly not sure whether to stay or go, but Rafayel was already having way too much fun. “Of course, as your loving husband,” he continued, drawing out the word in a singsong voice, “it’s only fitting that I’m showered with even more attention now, isn’t it? I expect lots of praise, darling. I mean, just look at me." He struck a faux thought-provoking pose, tilting his head and flipping a lock of his perfectly tousled hair.
You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, his antics made you laugh. “I didn’t mean to—"
"Oh no, no,” he interrupted, wagging his finger playfully. “You can’t take it back now. The word’s out, Miss Bodyguard. You’ve called me your husband. That means you’re stuck with me. Forever.” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Does this mean I get to cheat at board games forever too?”
You groaned, rolling your eyes as you playfully swatted at his shoulder. “As if you needed a reason to cheat more!”
Rafayel laughed, that familiar bratty grin plastered across his face. “Well, if I’m your husband now, I think it’s only fair I get first dibs on everything. Cards, claw machines—oh, and don’t forget, I demand the comfiest seat when we binge-watch our shows.”
Despite his teasing, the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. You could see the genuine delight he took in your slip-up, how pleased he was at the thought, even if he’d never admit it outright.
“Fine, fine,” you sighed dramatically, playing along. “But don’t expect me to let you win at everything, ‘husband.’”
Rafayel beamed, and for a moment, that bratty, carefree mask of his slipped, just a little. He tugged you closer, his voice softening as he murmured, “Deal.” Then, just as quickly, he switched back to his usual, cheeky self. “Now, let’s go, wife. You’re required to be by my side while I survive this boring night. ”
Shaking your head, you laughed, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re impossible.”
The woman, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, laughed. “You two make quite the pair.”
“Oh, we do, don’t we?” Rafayel quipped before lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear, leaning in ever so slightly. “You’ve really outdone yourself, calling me that in front of witnesses. Now they’ll all expect a wedding invitation.”
Your face burned as you tried to shush him, but he was loving every second of it. He tilted his head, his hair catching the light as his smile softened into something more genuine, the bratty exterior fading just a bit. “Still… I can’t say I hate the sound of it,” he murmured, brushing a finger lightly under your chin before pulling back with a playful wink. “I might just get used to hearing it.”
You could only manage a huff of exasperation, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter at the way his teasing had just a hint of sincerity behind it.
Rafayel, always dramatic, and yet somehow, just when you least expected it, a little bit sweet.
ZAYNE
You and Zayne were in the middle of your usual weekly grocery run, efficiently dividing and conquering your list to save time. He’d taken off towards the produce section while you headed for the rice aisle. As you browsed the different varieties, a middle-aged man beside you struggled with lifting a heavy bag of rice.
"Need a hand?" you asked, stepping in to help. The man smiled gratefully as you hoisted the bag into his cart with ease.
"Thank you, young lady," he said, rubbing his wrist. "My arthritis is flaring up today. Getting old’s no fun."
You offered him a sympathetic smile. “No problem at all. My husband’s a doctor, actually. I’m sure he’d tell you to take it easy on that wrist."
The man nodded in agreement, offering you one last thanks before heading off. You turned back to your cart, completely unaware of the word you had just let slip—husband—or the fact that Zayne had returned in time to hear it.
You felt him step up behind you, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. When you finally glanced over, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Husband, hmm?" he said softly, his tone more curious than teasing. "That's... new."
You froze for a second, eyes widening as you realized what you’d said. You opened your mouth, the words tripping over each other in a rush. “I didn’t— I mean, it just—slipped out. We’re not actually—I mean, obviously, we’re not—” You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, and no amount of backpedaling was helping.
Zayne didn’t seem in a rush to let you off the hook. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with an ease that made your heart stutter. “You know,” he said, voice as calm as ever, “if this is your way of bringing it up, there are smoother ways to do it.” His teasing was subtle, barely perceptible if you didn’t know him well, but it was there in the gentle tug of his smile.
You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Zayne, I didn’t mean to—”
But Zayne, ever level-headed, merely took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not like I mind the idea.”
Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked up at him in surprise. There was a softness in his usually stoic gaze, the kind that made your stomach flip. He continued, his voice measured but affectionate, “Seems like the next logical step, doesn’t it? My parents have been asking me when I’m going to take that step with you for a while now.”
His calm tone made the statement feel both casual and monumental at the same time. “Wait, your parents…?” you started, blinking as your brain processed this new information.
“Mhm,” Zayne replied, still holding your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “They’ve been pretty vocal about it, actually. But I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”
The right moment. Those words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of what he was saying. He was serious—calm and casual, as always, but serious. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Zayne in that grocery aisle, hands linked, talking about a future you hadn’t even realized you both wanted.
“Only if you wanted to, of course,” he added, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your hand. “I wouldn’t do anything unless we both agreed.”
You stared at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face despite the initial shock. “You’re really suggesting this now? In the middle of a grocery store?”
Zayne smirked, his usual pragmatic self. “Well, we’re already talking about it. Might as well make use of the time.” He glanced down at your joined hands, his tone softening again. “Besides, I think it’s worth discussing what our future looks like, don’t you?”
Your heart swelled at his words, and the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to make you feel grounded, no matter how your emotions were spinning. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand gently. “I think it’s definitely worth talking about.”
Zayne leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple in a rare public display of affection. “Good,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet kind of affection that made your chest tighten. “We’ll talk more later.”
He pulled away just as smoothly, picking up the cart with a practiced ease, as though he hadn’t just suggested the two of you start planning your future together. His eyes twinkled, a subtle tease hiding behind that usual calm exterior of his.
“And for the record,” he added, as the two of you moved on to the next aisle, “I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me ‘husband’ again.”
Your cheeks heated again, but this time, you didn’t bother trying to hide your smile. “Guess you’ll have to earn it first, doctor.”
Zayne chuckled softly, that familiar, grounded confidence in his voice. “I’ll be sure to work on that.”
SYLUS
The desert sun was relentless, and you could feel its heat pressing down on you as you stood beside Sylus, waiting to be seated inside the restaurant. He had dragged you out of Linkon on one of his mysterious ventures—no explanation, no warning, just the two of you thrust into the desert with little more than his cryptic directions. And while Sylus might have thrived in the N109 Zone's shadowy world, he was decidedly out of place here in the glaring sunlight,already starting to show hints of discomfort.
You glanced over at him, squinting slightly under the bright light. His expression was carefully controlled as always, but you noticed how his hand twitched subtly as if annoyed by the heat. The two of you had been waiting to be seated inside for a while now, and you decided it was time to speed things up.
Catching the attention of a passing waitress, you waved her over, putting on your best expression of concern. “Excuse me, my husband and I were hoping to be seated inside. I’m feeling a little faint under the harsh sun,” you said smoothly, the lie of you feeling faint rolling off your tongue with ease.
The word husband had slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even realize your mistake until the waitress nodded sympathetically and promised to get you a table indoors right away. As she walked off, you felt a cold gaze slide over you, and you turned to see Sylus staring down at you, one brow raised, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face.
“Husband?” His voice was smooth, but there was a teasing lilt beneath it. “Did I miss a wedding, wife?”
Your breath caught in your throat. "Wait—no, I didn't mean—" You started to stammer, heat rising to your cheeks, but before you could backtrack any further, Sylus’ arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. His grip was firm, possessive, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him.
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning in just close enough for you to catch the scent of the desert air still clinging to his clothes. His lips ghosted near your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Maybe this is a sign I should make it official.”
You swallowed hard, heart racing as you tried to keep your composure. “Official?” you echoed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “What—what are you talking about?”
Sylus’ smirk widened, his amber eyes gleaming in the sun. “Oh? Cat got your tongue, Sweetie?” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he let his fingers trace a light circle on your hip. “You seemed so sure a moment ago, wife. But now? Speechless.”
You blinked, trying to gather your wits, but the sheer cockiness in his tone was making it hard to think straight. “I…I was just…helping us get a table,” you protested weakly, trying to pull away from his grip, but his hold only tightened.
“Oh, I’m sure you were,” he drawled, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “But now that you’ve set the bar so high, don’t tell me you’re going to back out on me. After all, you made quite the declaration back there.”
“I wasn’t—” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you regained a sliver of your usual confidence. “You know it was a slip-up, Sylus. Don’t start getting ideas.”
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Ideas? Sweetie, I live for ideas.” His grip loosened just enough to let you step back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t about to let you wriggle out of this one easily. “But let’s be honest, you didn’t hate it. Calling me your husband.”
Your face flushed again, but this time, you managed to meet his gaze without faltering. “I didn’t hate it,” you admitted, folding your arms, “but don’t go thinking you’ve won. I’m not about to sign any papers just because you liked hearing it.”
Sylus tilted his head, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “We’ll see about that, kitten” he said, the threat—or promise—hanging in the air between you as the waitress returned to guide you inside.
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Please, Sylus. You couldn’t handle being married to me.”
He raised an eyebrow, leaning in with that infuriating smirk. “Oh, I think I could handle you just fine, sweetheart. You’re the one who might need to keep up.”
You shot back, “Keep up? I’d be carrying you the whole way.”
“Careful, Sweetie. That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.” He chuckled, his hand brushing against yours again. “Now that’s a tempting thought.”
“Tempting? Try exhausting,” you quipped.
As you walked beside him, you felt his arm brush against yours, and the sensation lingered far longer than it should have. Sylus, of course, said nothing, though the smug expression never quite left his face.
This was clearly far from over. And judging by the glint in his eye, Sylus was going to make sure you never forgot your little slip-up.
XAVIER
The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of patrons and the comforting smell of fresh pastries. You and Xavier had settled in for a peaceful afternoon, your table already adorned with a delightful array of treats. He had requested a simple drink—no whipped cream. The barista returned, placing his drink in front of him with an impressive mountain of whipped cream on top. Xavier, as calm and indifferent as ever, simply blinked at it, showing no signs of complaint. He wasn’t going to say a word about it, but that didn’t mean you were going to let it slide.
Excusing yourself, you raised a hand and called over a passing staff member. “Excuse me,” you began, with a polite smile. “My husband asked for no whipped cream on his drink, but it looks like there’s some here by mistake. Would it be alright for us to get it changed?”
The words tumbled out so smoothly that you didn’t even realize your slip-up until the staff member nodded apologetically and hurried back to fix the order. It was only when you turned back around that you saw Xavier sitting there, looking unusually... stunned.
He was blinking slowly at you, his expression softened by a hint of confusion and—was that amusement? “Husband?” he repeated, his soft voice barely more than a murmur.
Your face flushed as you fumbled for an explanation. “Oh, no, wait—! I didn’t mean—” You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “That just slipped out! I meant to say…uh my boyfriend? Partner? Date? Not—well, not husband, obviously…”
Xavier continued to blink, his face now showing just a little more expression than usual. The faintest curl of a smile played on his lips, and he tilted his head, considering your words. “I must’ve missed that chapter in the 'Guide to a Healthy Relationship,'” he said in that calm, unruffled way of his. “I didn’t know we’d moved on to the husband-and-wife stage.”
You groaned inwardly, burying your face in your hands. “I swear, it was an accident. Just ignore what I said.”
But Xavier was clearly in no mood to let it go. “So, dear wife,” he continued, completely unfazed by your protests, “do you think we’ll have matching mugs in our future? Maybe get a nice house, with a small garden and a picket fence?”
You shot him a playful glare, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to stay annoyed. “Very funny,” you muttered, though your lips were twitching at the corners, betraying your amusement.
“I think it has a nice ring to it,” Xavier said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this far more than you expected. “I wonder how long it would take for people in the association to start sending us wedding gifts. Or perhaps they'd just send weapons... you know, as a gesture of goodwill.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think wedding gifts are really their style, Xavier.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right,” he said thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you did call me your husband in public. Shouldn’t we at least play the part now?”
Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t resist playing along with his ridiculousness. “Fine,” you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “But just so you know, dear husband, you’ll be the one doing the dishes.”
Xavier chuckled softly, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. “As long as you take care of meals. A fair trade.”
You were about to retort when the waitress returned with Xavier’s newly corrected drink—this time, free of whipped cream. She set it down with a smile, glancing between the two of you as if she’d picked up on the playful atmosphere. “Here you go,” she said. “No whipped cream this time, sir.”
Xavier’s eyes glinted as he thanked her with a nod, and after she left, he looked back at you with a satisfied expression. “See? Husband perks,” he teased, taking a sip of his drink.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice gentler now. He took your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But... thank you,” he added after a beat, his voice softer and more sincere. “For speaking up for me.”
You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by the gratitude in his tone. “Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s what wives do, right?”
Xavier let out a soft laugh. “I suppose so,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.
In that moment, with his hand in yours and the gentle teasing in the air, it was easy to forget the world outside the café. Just the two of you, playing pretend—but maybe, just maybe, something more.
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#lads#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#lads sylus#lnds rafayel#lnds zayne#lnds xavier#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#drabbleswithlina#l&ds zayne#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#lads drabble#l&ds sylus#l&ds rafayel#l&ds xavier#l&ds#zayne#xavier#rafayel
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bakugou “do it yourself—no—i’ll do it” katsuki.
In simple theory, you have your husband, Bakugou Katsuki, wrapped around your finger. And he can fight it all he wants, but it’s nothing if not the wholehearted truth.
“Hey, can you grab me some coffee?”
Bakugou didn’t even look up from his phone. “No. Get your own damn coffee.”
“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, turning your attention back to your work. You didn’t miss the way Bakugou grumbled under his breath as he stood up a few moments later. When he returned, he placed a steaming cup of coffee on your desk without a word.
You hid your smile behind the rim of the cup. “Thanks, Katsuki.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, glaring at you.
-
Later that afternoon, you two were sparring in the gym in the comfort of your home—courtesy to your husband insisting that it’s a non-negotiable when arranging the first designs of your dream home together. You were struggling to move one of the heavier training dummies back into its original position, and once again you had the brilliant idea of putting your theory to the test.
What’s the point of having a husband if he doesn’t let you do things like these?
You let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to Bakugou, who was wiping sweat from his brow. For a moment, you forgot what you were about to say—momentarily distracted by how good he looks, muscles glistening and all with his signature black tank top.
Goddamn, you scored a hottie.
“Katsuki, help me move this,” you called, pointing at the dummy.
“No way,” he shot back immediately. “You’re the one who moved it there, so you deal with it.”
“Fine,” you sighed, turning back to the dummy and giving it an exaggerated shove. Before you could try again, Bakugou had stormed over, cursing at the dummy under his breath. He grabbed the dummy with one hand and effortlessly dragged it back into place.
“There. Happy now?” he grunted.
Oh, so it could be resist, then actually do it, or refuse while doing it anyway.
You smiled. “Very. Thanks, Katsuki.”
“Shut up,” he growled, his ears slightly tinged with pink.
-
By the end of the week, it had become a game for you. You’d ask for the simplest things, knowing full well that Bakugou would always refuse—only to do it anyway. Maybe it’s his love language to refuse but comply nevertheless.
“Can you pass me the remote?”
“No. Use your legs.” Hands it over.
“Can you open this jar for me?”
“Do it yourself.” Opens it in one twist.
“Can you get groceries on your way home?”
“Fuck no.” What do you mean he’s already loading the grocery bags in his car?
“Can you carry my bag for a second?”
“Die. I’m not your damn pack mule.” Carries it all the way home.
-
One evening, you two were sitting on the couch of your home, eating takeout and watching a movie. You were cuddled up with a freshly ironed blanket—thanks to Bakugou, who had done the laundry yesterday while you did the ironing when everything had dried enough—poking at your food lazily. You turned to Bakugou, your head resting on the couch cushion.
“Hey, can you grab me some water?” you asked with a sweet smile.
Bakugou glared at you, pausing mid-bite, his usual scowl in place. “No. You’ve got legs. Use ‘em.”
“Okay,” you said simply, turning your attention back to the movie.
You decided that you’ll get water once you finish this specific scene.
Bakugou lasted all of five minutes before he let out a loud groan, stomping to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. He shoved it into your hands, his expression equal parts annoyed and resigned.
“There,” he grumbled. “Happy now?”
You took the glass with a smug grin. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the best.”
He sank back onto the couch, crossing his arms and glaring at the screen. “You’re so damn annoying.”
“You love me,” you said teasingly.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his ears turning red. But he didn’t deny it.
“Married me, too. So I don’t think you mind at all.”
“Die.”
“‘til death do we part, Kats.”
And despite all his protests, you knew the truth. Katsuki Bakugou might have sworn you’d never have him wrapped around your finger, but with every little thing he did for you—grudgingly or not—you knew you had your conclusion.
Even if it’s a little bit.
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou drabble#bakugou fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo drabble#bakugo fluff#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou
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One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader
You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;
1k masterlist ; Prologue
You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.
“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”
And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.
“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”
You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”
“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.
When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.
"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"
He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”
“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.
Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”
And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.
You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”
“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”
Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.
At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.
“C’mon, try it.”
He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”
“Exactly. Now open up.”
With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”
But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.
As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.
“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.
You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.
When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”
He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”
When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”
“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”
Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.
Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”
He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.
When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”
He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”
He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”
Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”
“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”
When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.
“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.
He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”
As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.
You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.
“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”
Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”
“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”
He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”
“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”
And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.
You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.
“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.
By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.
“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.
“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”
Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.
You blink. Then blink again.
It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.
“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”
He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”
“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”
“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.
You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”
“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”
You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”
Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”
Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”
He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”
And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.
The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.
“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”
Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.
“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”
Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.
Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”
Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.
Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.
“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”
Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”
“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”
Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.
By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.
It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.
“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”
“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”
“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.
The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.
“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.
Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”
Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.
When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.
You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.
“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.
Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.
“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”
You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”
“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”
But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”
You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”
Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”
“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”
Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”
You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.
You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.
So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.
"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.
“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”
"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"
Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.
The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”
You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.
You: Cornered. Help.
The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.
"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.
All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.
He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.
"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”
The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.
"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.
Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.
"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."
The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”
Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"
They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.
One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.
“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”
The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.
Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.
“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.
Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.
“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.
“Like you’re impressed.”
“Oh, but I am.”
He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”
You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”
Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."
That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.
You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”
He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”
You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.
And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.
The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.
You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?
Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.
He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.
You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.
Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”
You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.
Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."
You blink as he pulls the paper closer.
"Leona, what are you—"
"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.
You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.
"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.
He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."
"Easy for you, maybe."
“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.
You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."
Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”
And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.
You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."
He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”
You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.
For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.
You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."
"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.
The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.
And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.
You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.
It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.
But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.
You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.
“Hey, Leona?”
He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.
You clear your throat. “What are we?”
Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”
You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”
He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”
Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.
“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.
You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”
He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”
“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”
Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”
Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.
Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.
“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”
You nod, holding your breath.
“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”
Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.
Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.
“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”
He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.
“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.
You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.
The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.
When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.
And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.
Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”
Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”
You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"
He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”
Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”
Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.
Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.
Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.
“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”
You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”
Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”
You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”
Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”
Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”
“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”
You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”
Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”
“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”
Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.
“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”
His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”
You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.
“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”
You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”
You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”
He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”
You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”
He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”
And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.
The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.
“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.
“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”
“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”
“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”
“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”
Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”
Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”
“You’re definitely telling him.”
“No, you tell him!”
“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”
Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”
Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”
“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”
“It was allergy season!”
“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”
Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”
“Gee, thanks, Grim.”
Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.
“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”
Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.
“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.
“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”
You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”
“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.
Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”
“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.
“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.
You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.
Because deep down, you know something they don’t.
Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.
You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.
“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.
Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.
1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist
i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#leona x you#twst leona#leona kingscholar x you#leona#twst leona x you#1k event
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summary: oh, poor drew has to lose his big biceps while filming queer. and oh, poor drew, is victim of his girlfriend's teasing :(
warnings: none, pretty light and fluffy 👌
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling idly through your phone, when the sound of a key turning in the lock catches your attention. Glancing up, you see Drew walk through the door, looking a bit slimmer but still smiling in that warm way that lights up his whole face. He came home only for a few days, and you still couldn't get over the fact that they didn't gave you a small copy of your boyfriend, it was actually Drew. Even if you were there in his whole process of weight losing, it felt weird.
You missed those pretty big things so much it was painful.
He’s wearing a loose T-shirt and faded jeans, his hair tousled from a long day on set, and something about him seems softer around the edges—almost like he’s let his guard down after weeks of intense filming.
You sit up, an exaggerated frown on your face. “Oh, no way.” Your tone is teasing, but you can’t resist it as you give him a once-over. “What happened to those big, strong biceps of yours, Starkey? Am I seeing things, or did you trade them in for some noodles?”
Drew raises an eyebrow, pausing mid-step as he gives you a look of mock offense. “Noodles? Seriously?”
You grin and shrug, crossing your arms. “I don’t know, babe. They’re looking a little… deflated.” You stretch out an arm, giving his bicep a playful poke as he comes closer. “Am I supposed to start lifting the groceries now?”
Drew lets out a chuckle and drops his bag on the floor before plopping down on the couch next to you. “I’ll have you know that my ‘noodle arms’ still work just fine,” he says, feigning indignation as he flexes, the bicep muscle tightening under his sleeve even if it’s smaller than you’re used to. “Had to lose some weight for Queer, remember? Luca didn’t want me looking like some action hero on this.”
You put on a look of exaggerated sympathy, patting his shoulder. “Aww, poor noodle-armed Drew. Must be so hard, not being the Hulk for once.”
He scoffs, but you can see the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”
“Oh, no way,” you tease, leaning in and poking his arm again. “If you lose even one more ounce of muscle, I’m buying out the protein aisle and bringing it to set.” You pretend to squeeze his arm, making a show of struggling as if it’s the weakest thing in the world. “Seriously, who’s gonna protect me now? Or open all the jars?”
Drew smirks, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is that right?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his tone a playful challenge.
In one quick motion, he wraps an arm around your waist and effortlessly pulls you onto his lap, his fingers tightening around your hips as you let out a small squeal of surprise, laughing. “See? Noodles or not, I think I can still handle you just fine,” he says, a smug grin on his face as he holds you close.
You try to keep a straight face but can’t help the smile that’s tugging at your lips. “Hmm,” you say, tilting your head as if contemplating. “Maybe you’ve still got a little strength left in you. But I’m gonna keep a close watch. Just in case.”
Drew raises an eyebrow, feigning exasperation. “Oh, great. A personal bicep inspector. Exactly what I needed.”
You laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “Someone has to make sure you stay up to code, Starkey. You’re still my big, strong boyfriend, right? Don’t want anyone thinking I’m dating some scrawny little noodle boy.”
He lets out a laugh, his arm still firmly around you as his hand traces slow, comforting circles along your back. “Would it make you feel better if I promised to go back to the gym as soon as filming’s done? Maybe even lift double just to prove I’m still ‘your big, strong boyfriend’?”
“Maybe,” you say, narrowing your eyes with a smile. “But in the meantime, don’t be surprised if I start calling you ‘spaghetti arms.’”
Drew groans, dramatically rolling his eyes, but he’s laughing too, unable to keep a straight face. “Fine, fine, make fun of me all you want. Just remember who’s still carrying you around all day if he has to.” With that, he shifts his grip and effortlessly hoists you up, standing and cradling you against his chest as he walks toward the kitchen.
You burst out laughing, arms looping around his neck. “Oh, okay, maybe there’s still a little muscle left!” you say, gasping between giggles as he gently sets you down on the counter, his hands resting on either side of you.
“Exactly,” he says, leaning in close, his face just inches from yours, his voice softer now, teasing but affectionate. “No matter what, you’re still stuck with me.”
Your laughter fades as you look up at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Good,” you whisper, fingers gently brushing his cheek. “Because I wouldn’t want anyone else, noodle arms and all.”
Drew’s expression softens, his gaze lingering on yours as he cups your face, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. His hand trails down to your shoulder, pulling you closer until you’re wrapped up in his embrace, your laughter replaced by a comfortable, warm silence.
As he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, he chuckles, fingers idly tracing your arm. “I’ll get my biceps back,” he promises, his voice barely a whisper. “But for now, I guess you’ll just have to deal with ‘scrawny’ me.”
You grin, sliding your hands up his chest. “I’ll manage,” you say softly. “But just know I’m keeping an eye on those biceps. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll even give you a few compliments along the way.”
Drew laughs, kissing you again, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, with no need for words. Because no matter how many muscles he has—or doesn’t—you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than right here, with him.
#drew starkey queer#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey one shot#drew Starkey concept#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine
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NOT EVERYONE KNOWS!
in which — being in a secret relationship with them but they’re all idiots
featuring — dan feng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader
wc: total 2.6k, from event req: here!, debut fic for my milestone event yippee, they keep fumbling but it’s ok cus they’re hot, reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!! <3
#DAN FENG
+ wait… since when are you guys married?!
dan feng? i just know he’s gonna mess this shit up so badly. he’s the high elder, but also the epitome of boyfailure. he really can’t help it, those terms of endearment just slip out so easily when you're by his side.
and it doesn’t stop there. he’s completely oblivious to the shocked silence and wide-eyed stares from others; for example, he might be holding your hand absentmindedly while discussing serious matters, and only snaps back to reality when you cough awkwardly.
but unfortunately, it’s not that simple when the gang (re: high cloud quintet) find out about your relationship. disclaimer: chaos ensues
dan feng immediately sits up upon seeing you enter the room, a fresh batch of tea brewing in hand. the discussion among the group gradually fades into the background as his eyes trail your figure while you carefully pour tea into each person’s teacup.
the piquant aroma fills his senses, and he can’t stop a small smile from creeping across his face when you take a seat next to him. he takes a sip, the delicate flavor enveloping his taste buds, leaving behind a delightful aftertaste that lingers long after the tea is swallowed.
“—thus we require a substantial amount of time, speaking of which, anything on your end dan feng?”
he finds himself watching you out of the corner of his eye. “imbibitor lunae…?” and it’s almost impossible for him to tear his gaze away from you.
“hello? dan feng?” he snaps back to reality, blinking a few times before processing the initial question. “a-ahem, yes. darling, could you pass me the report?” he says, turning to your side.
the room falls silent, and a shocked gasp escapes from baiheng's mouth before jingliu clasps a hand over it; jing yuan shifts in his seat, exchanging a bewildered glance with yingxing.
“hm..? did you forget to bring it?” his tone is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the shocked expression on everyone’s face. “are you alright my dear? your face is quite red, do y—”
before he can finish, you manage to find your voice, trying to mask your embarrassment with a strained smile. “no, i didn’t forget the report, and i’m perfectly fine… though our friends might need a minute to recover.”
baiheng, still wide-eyed, blurts out, “hold on, are you guys… in a relationship?”
dan feng blinks in confusion ”oh, did i forget to mention that part?” —to which you hear someone across the table audibly facepalm.
you sigh, voice strained but laced with amusement, “i can’t believe you never told them we got married.” your words are followed by the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.
“wait… since when are you guys married?!” you pat jingyuan’s back, trying to stifle a laugh. “since last year.”
“seriously, and you never thought of telling us.”
“it was an honest mistake, yingxing.” dan feng replies, crossing his arms defensively.
baiheng shakes her head, “an honest mistake? like forgetting to water your plants, not like forgetting to tell us you got married!”
“well congratulations, i suppose. though a heads-up would’ve been nice.” jingliu manages a wry smile, though she internally cringes at baiheng’s exaggerated (or not) reaction, opting to just let her be.
"sorry, it slipped my mind.” dan feng's nonchalant shrug only serves to further fuel jingyuan's irk, his eye visibly twitching; yingxing lets out a groan, still reeling from the revelation. you can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene unfolding, taking a sip of your tea.
“you weren’t planning to tell us at all?!”
"honest mistake." you can tell he’s just teasing his friends by the way a small smirk appears on his face as he attempts to hide it behind his teacup. (you nearly had to restrain baiheng as she tried to leap over the table.)
well, it seems like you’re not going to get anything done today.
#BLADE
+ easy, just buy me a nice ring and leave the lying part to me.
please. if you had a penny for every time blade almost exposes that you’re dating, you’d have three pennies. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened thrice.
the first time was when he received a call from you while in the car with firefly. he answered almost immediately, without realizing that wearing earphones does not necessarily mean he isn't able to be heard in real life, just that others can’t hear what he’s listening to.
“went to boomerville n the locals said they knew u” —silverwolf, probably.
second was when someone confessed their feelings to you, and he “instinctively” jumped in to say you have a husband. "what husband? i don't see a ring on your finger." so now, that same man won't stop asking you about this so-called “husband” (that doesn’t exist).
and third time, well we’ll see.
“are you sure you don’t want me to kill him.”
you huff out in annoyance, “this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t mentioned i had a husband.” sighing, you push yourself off the bed and turn to face your boyfriend.
“...that aside, how exactly do you plan on handling him?” blade raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “easy! just buy me a nice ring, and leave the lying part to me.”
if blade hadn’t seriously considered taking care of the man before, he certainly seems determined to do so now. “hey what’s with that reaction…”
blade’s eyes narrow as he takes in your response. “a ring huh, what are you going to do with it?” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “what else? pretend i have a husband.”
he sighs, “is this really the best solution you can come up with?” (he really doesn't like the idea of you having a husband…that isn’t him, fake or not) “yup!” you reply with a grin, “i’ll be eagerly awaiting the ‘surprise’!” with that, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek and swiftly exit the room.
oh you’re lucky he loves you. (even though this is totally, 100% his fault)
—
“hmm, bladie? why the sudden interest in jewellery?” kafka smirks, curiosity dancing in her eyes. blade chooses to stay silent, picking out the most expensive ring; and kafka’s expression only broadens with amusement as she watches his intense scrutiny of the display.
“planning something special, are we?” she teases, leaning closer. “or are you just trying to impress someone?”
blade finally glances up, his face inscrutable. “just taking care of business.” he replies tersely, slipping the ring onto the counter along the pile of designer jackets.
“right… well, i’ll be interested to see how this turns out.”
—
“what?” the man in front of you asks, his confusion evident.
you tilt your head slightly, trying to gauge his reaction. “you seem surprised. did you think i was joking?” you casually brush a strand of hair away, subtly flaunting the ring to him —and to any onlookers; trying not to crack a smile when you hear a loud gasp followed by a flurry of hushed whispers.
he grits his teeth, clearly embarrassed and humiliated by the commotion. “i didn’t expect you to be married… especially since you never wear the ring.”
“or is it that you’re not all that attached to your husband?” the audacity of this man… just as you’re at a loss of words, a firm hand grips the man’s shoulder from behind.
blade yanks the man back, and away from you. “you’re pushing your luck.” the sudden motion causes the man to stumble, his face pale with a mix of surprise and fear.
“w-who the hell are you?!” the man’s voice trembles as he tries to regain his composure. meanwhile, you notice a crowd beginning to form around you, with some people eagerly pulling out their phones to record the escalating drama.
“leave, now.” you can tell blade’s patience is wearing thin, dangerously so.
the man’s eyes narrow in defiance. “why should i? you’re the one to talk when you’re hiding behind a disguise.” blade pins the man with a steely gaze, his intense stare making the man stiffen under its weight.
but what you didn’t expect was for blade to turn around, remove his mask and letting it dangle from one ear; he then raises your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss upon it.
the man’s face immediately drains of colour, and the crowd around you erupts into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs. you’re not sure whether he's more shocked by blades' bold gesture or by the fact that a notorious criminal is standing right in front of him. (its the latter)
the man, now visibly shaken, scrambles away, yelling out a “sorry!” before disappearing into the crowd. blade pulls you away, ignoring the flashes of cameras and ducks into a nearby alley.
the next morning, you wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone. you discover the group chat flooded with messages from your friends.
“@barcodewrist @[you] explain yourselves”
“Bladie, so that was what the ring was for~”
“bro i cant believe this old ass man has rizz”
you quickly type out a message asking for context, in which you only receive a link from silverwolf. as you click in, you can’t help but wish you can unsee what’s on the screen.
“‘YOUR NAME’, IDENTIFIED IN ASSOCIATION WITH STELLARON HUNTER ‘BLADE’: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. BOUNTY SET AT 3.5 BILLION.” and attached below is a video of what transpired yesterday.
“great” you mutter under your breath, “not only am i dating a wanted criminal, now i'm one too.” you shoot a quick message to the group chat “any tips on staying out of trouble when your boyfriend’s a fugitive? asking for a friend... and my sanity.”
on the bright side, at least you’ll be greeted by a very pleased blade, now publicly acknowledged as your husband —oh and don’t question the second ring on your finger.
#JING YUAN
+ stop you're not allowed to smile at me like that. / like what?
how do i even start. he’s so smug, please throw a rock at him and wipe that “:3” off his face.
you really do sometimes wonder if jing yuan ever truly intended to keep this relationship a secret, especially by how he practically transforms into a lovesick puppy whenever you’re within a 10 meter radius.
goodluck because he's also such a tease, an insufferable one. despite that, you can’t deny there’s something endearing about how he always seems to light up when you’re around, his constant teasing remarks making it harder to stay mad whenever you call him out for being “too lax”.
after all, he may be a headache, but he’s your headache —one that comes with a hefty dose of affection and a penchant for making every single moment spent together memorable.
being the general’s secretary, and his lover isn’t an easy job.
you’re focused on the task before you; reviewing documents, scheduling meetings, coordinating logistics for high-stakes missions —ensuring no crucial information slips through the cracks.
but you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes boring into you. it’s a subtle sensation, a weight that pulls your awareness away from the task at hand. you glance up from your desk, only to be met by jing yuan’s gaze, fixed on you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.
“jing yuan, what are you doing?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer. though a smile slowly spreads across his face as he continues to watch you. his overwhelming stare makes it difficult to concentrate…
and worse? he looks utterly and hopelessly in love.
“stop, you're not allowed to smile at me like that.” the words come out softer than intended; he leans in slightly, the warmth in his expression only deepening.
“and why not?” he asks, his voice carries a hint of amusement. the twinkle in his eyes suggests that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it only adds to your annoyance.
“because” you reply, trying to sound exasperated, “you’re looking at me as if you’re in love with me or something!” —and your handsome face makes it impossible to focus.
jing yuan’s smile only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction. “is that so? i didn’t realise my smile had such an effect on you.” (you hope his pants catch on fire because he’s obviously lying about being unaware of the effect his presence has on you)
“and i am in love with you.”
that, in fact, did not ease the fluttering in your chest. “shh!” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand; you hold your grip for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of his breath against your palm.
“hmm… so i can't even look at my beloved partner now?” his voice comes out slightly muffled and distorted due to your playful assault on his face. you give his cheek one last, harsh pinch before finally letting him go.
you heave a sigh of relief once you’re sure no one heard anything, you loosen your grip but keep your palm resting on his face. with a playful pinch, you squeeze his cheek. “you tease!” you furrow your brows, though a small smile tugs at your lips despite your effort to remain stern.
you shake your head with a smile, “do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when you’re looking at me like that?” the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks.
“i know,” he replies with a grin, “and i wouldn’t change a thing.”
jing yuan rests his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on your desk; the warmth of his gaze and the cheeky grin on his face makes it hard to stay frustrated at him.
“you’re impossible,” you say with a mock scowl, though your tone carries a lighthearted edge. “but it’s also hard to stay mad at you.”
he chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. he leans in a bit more, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh? then would you like to head out—”
“you wish.” you cut him off with a deadpan look, “that stack of papers has been sitting there since this morning, and it’s not going to magically sort itself out.”
you gesture toward the mountain of documents on your desk, which has only grown throughout the day. he sighs, settling himself comfortably into the seat beside you. you pick up your pen as you try to regain your focus again amidst the lingering warmth of his presence.
this time, you really do consider throwing a rock at him when his head falls on your shoulder as he dozes off just five minutes later.
but hey, at least he makes it clear that he’s head over heels for you, even if it comes with a side of embarrassment, and a few near heart attacks.
MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST
#✧renwrites!#VEILEDFANTASIA!#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#honkai starrail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#hsr fanfic#hsr imagines#hsr scenarios#hsr headcanons#dan feng#imbibitor lunae#dan feng x you#dan feng x reader#hsr blade#blade x reader#blade x you#blade x y/n#hsr blade x reader#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#jing yuan x y/n#hsr jing yuan
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“what the hell?”
needless to say, you were confused to see your best friend, suna, standing at your door at three fucking am, looking drunk with his hair drippin wet thanks to the rain.
“hi,” he says and staggers into your apartment.
“dude!” you exclaim.
“hey hey, it’s fine, we’re cool, we’re bffs,” he says, a sly smirk on his flushed face.
yeah, he is definitely drunk.
“please don’t sit on my couch —” you say, but it was too late, he was already sitting down, letting out an exaggerated sigh as water droplets drip down on your sofa.
he pats the spot next to him, giving you a lazy grin, you scowl at him but decide to humor him and sit down next to him on the couch.
“god, i missed you,” he tells you and you huff, “i just saw you, two days ago.”
“what? I can’t miss my best friend?” he says, a slight pout on his lips.
you sigh, “rin, what’s gotten you so drunk so late?”
he hums in response and rests his arm on the back of the couch, “tsumu.”
“don’t you have practice tomorrow?” you ask and he shakes his head, letting out a sigh and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, “i’m calling in sick tomorrow.” he slurs.
you nod your head along, entertaining him for the most part — rintaro wasn’t easily drunk, so for him to be staggering into your apartment at three in the morning meant the he seriously had more than his fair share.
all thanks to atsumu.
“do you wanna know?” he suddenly says.
you quirk an eyebrow, “do i wanna know what?”
“how much i like you.”
your heart stutters in your chest, “....you like me?”
he grins, and his face flushes even more, “what’s there not to like?”
you laugh awkwardly, “okay!” you exclaim, “lets get you to bed, no?” you say in an attempt to change the subject.
“y/n,” he says, a serious look on his face, “i like you.”
it’s true, he likes you, maybe even loves you, and it’s gotten so hard for him to deny or ignore, every song he listens to reminds him of you and he’s been dreaming about you, it’s gotten so bad.
you hum, and pause, then smile at him, ruffling his hair, “tell me that when your’re sober, rin,” you say because you hope to god that it’s true.
he blinks up at you, then nods his head, “okay.”
and as he lays down on the couch, he makes a mental note to himself to confess his feelings appropriately in the morning.
#do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#suna rintarou#suna headcanons#suna drabble#suna fluff#suna x reader
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“baby”
seungcheol x reader
contents: sfw, fluff mess, idol au, established relationship au, repetitive use of word “baby”, kkuma is seungcheol’s daughter
summary: seungcheol finds out he is a grandpa at age 28 in his own way / seungcheol comes home to his (growing) family
wc: 1111 (hehe)
“where’s your toy?” you coo.
kkuma stares blankly at you, sitting pretty. you slap your hands on your knees with an exaggerated grin decorating your face.
you repeat, enunciating each word, “where is your toy?”
she pants with a smile—the crooked pink bow clip melts your heart bit by bit. she stands up and spins in a circle, searching for something; the clopping of her nails against the hard-wooded floor reminds you that she needs her nails clipped, and your boyfriend will no doubt get her groomed for that to be completed.
the fluffy small cloud faces you, tongue out and involved in her desperate recovery mission. she moves her head to the right then the left; you can’t help but huff air with a smile, observing her cute yet calculated movements. her smile fades as she sniffs lightly. there is one more attempt to push kkuma over the edge.
“where is your baby?” you reiterate.
like a sleeper agent, something inside of her awakens. her head moves back to the right, regaining that same grin she trots into the hallway out of your sight.
you stand up, kneecaps cracking from being on the floor for some time; you keep your gaze locked from where she last left your sight, anticipating little patters to get louder.
soon enough, kkuma emerges from that hallway with a plush hello kitty doll, bigger than her own body, being dragged across the floor; if only it was real you could imagine the doll’s face painted with agony of living another day of torment while being lifelessly lugged.
you smirk and clap your fingertips together, creating little yet audible sound. “there she is! do you have your baby?” you babble.
in response, kkuma shakes her head and therefore her body and therefore the doll. you nod your head in respect and walk to the kitchen. kkuma continues her tirade and saunters over to the living room, plopping herself right in front of the couch with baby in hand.
—————
after the sun has been set for some time, the front door creaks open. soft yet heavy footfalls patter against the floor.
from your spot laying on the couch, you glance towards the noise in the dark, only your phone and tv providing light. you sit there and listen: you hear deep breaths and rustling of fabric before something collides with the floor. a defeated grunt comes from the entrance still: you chuckle quietly and turn your phone off, turning onto your stomach to lay on.
you click your flashlight on. the perpetrator standing there being your boyfriend, seungcheol. his eyes widen yet dim quickly when he made contact with the light. he covers his eyes with his hand and sets down the rest of his stuff. you turn off your flash and get up to immediately flick on the living room lights. you stroll to him with a not-so hidden grin.
he takes one glance at your expression before huffing, “you heard me struggling yet here you are taking a photo of me like i’m a cryptid.” your grin hurts your cheeks at this point; he gives one of his own as he watches you.
“you try so hard to be quiet when you come in, it’s hard not to see you as one.” you counter.
his eyebrows raise and grin deflates. “well you should be in bed right now. i swear you don’t have to wait up for me, i’ll be fine.” you both hear little paws barrel towards you. seungcheol’s dimples return once again as he squats, palms open.
“cause this little girl will always be there to greet me.”
you playfully scoff, leaning on the wall, observing the interaction. “yeah because she knows she will get a treat.” kkuma licks his fingers as he scratches underneath her chin.
you squat down yourself and her attention was instantly caught. you gently unclip the bow from the top of her head and smother it in your/his pant pocket.
as you give her your own soft head pats and aggressive spouts of rubs, seungcheol gaze is stuck on your face, basking in the intimate moment he secretly waits for after every day of intense idol-life.
he would never say it, but he appreciates how you wait; he doesn’t understand how you are able to keep waiting after all this time—for him. he glances at the floor, he shouldn't keep you waiting, should he?
kkuma’s rhythm of her happy dance kept him in a trance, but for some reason it stopped? seungcheol blinks and doesn’t see his little girl in front of him. he glances up at you for some clarification as you shuffle his things around, grabbing his workout clothes to put in the washer.
seungcheol blinks again. where did one of his princesses go? every time he arrives home, she follows him wherever he goes. is his little girl growing up?
he mindlessly follows you and stutters with a pout, “w-where did kkuma go?”
you flip open the washer lid. “she’s grabbing her baby.”
seungcheol’s inner demons were confirmed. “her baby?”
you hum in confirmation.
he sadly flicks his eyes to the door to the rest of the apartment. as you shut the lid down and press the appropriate buttons, you feel his fingers weaving into yours; slowly, he drapes his body weight onto you, head searching for his crook. you smile and pat his head.
you both hear little paws barrel toward you both. entering the door frame is little kkuma with her big baby hello kitty doll.
seungcheol’s head lifts up from your body.
kkuma gives him a little shake, showing him and her baby dominance.
he makes eye contact with you. “your childhood pillow?”
you correct him, enunciating your words, “her baby.” his arms sneak around your waist, eyes never leaving the white dog.
he repeats after you, “her baby.”
you hum and nod, pecking his cheek before sauntering out of the room. seungcheol bites his lip, smile breaking through, and skips after you. his arms return to hug your waist as he leans both your bodies sideways with a kiss—soon followed by an onslaught of fleeting smooches.
you blush. “cmon you big baby lets go to bed. you have an upcoming comeback and tour that doesn’t need you to fall ill again. i don’t need you to do that.”
he hums and sways your bodies, widely walking both of your feet in that direction like penguins.
he only hummed, not saying anything. you look at him for any other confirmation. he only beholds your eyes that swallow the rest of the world.
he knocks his head playfully with yours. “my baby.”
a/n: first uploaded fic please have mercy on my soul. also not proofread.
i have some works in the notes app but so far this is the one that is currently making me want to publish because i just got in the mood and it’s his bday. also this is totally not based off my own dog
if you made it here, congratulations! have a nice day/night!! 🫶
tag: @jacixbliss
#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seungcheol x reader#kpop x reader#svt x reader#kpop x you#svt x you#seventeen seungcheol#svt seungcheol#seventeen fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios
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Ginge With Lando & His Overly Affectionate Girlfriend
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes, another one for @remmysthings ❤️ Summary: Angry Ginge can't keep himself from making jabs at Lando and his girlfriend Words: 849
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
Angry Ginge and Lando were in the middle of filming yet another video together. Their friendship had garnered a respectable following for their shared humor and chaotic antics. For today’s video, they met at Lando’s place since Ginge was already in Monaco for vacation, and it was supposed to be a straightforward review of the newest gaming gear. However, Ginge had other plans.
“Alright, Lando, let’s get this party started!” Ginge exclaimed, clapping Lando on the back with enough force to nearly knock him off the chair. “Welcome back, everyone, to another episode of ‘Ginge & Lando’s Adventures,’ where we test out the coolest gear and I get to make fun of Lando.”
Lando’s laugh immediately filled the room, a warm and infectious sound. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to get you back for all these jabs.”
Ginge snorted. “Sure, sure. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, let’s get to it. And hey, speaking of ‘getting back,’ look who’s here!”
The door creaked open, and Y/N walked in, carrying a steaming cup of coffee and wearing a smile that made Lando’s face light up instantly. She walked over to Lando, who was now wearing a goofy grin, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Ginge called out with a smirk, tilting his head towards the camera. “Nice to see you two being all cute and lovey-dovey. Did you come by to remind Lando to stay smitten?”
Ginge put on a mock serious expression, placing a hand over his heart. “Ah, the daily dose of affection. How romantic. Tell me, Lando, does Y/N have you wrapped around her finger, or are you still pretending to be a rugged racer?”
“Just bringing Lando his coffee. And yes, I’m here to remind him how amazing I am" Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly fine with being wrapped around her finger.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. “Is that a problem, Ginge?”
Ginge shook his head. “Oh, no problem at all! I just find it hilarious how you two are so completely absorbed in each other. I mean, you guys make every day feel like a cheesy rom-com.”
Y/N chuckled, wrapping her arm around Lando’s shoulder. “Well, someone’s got to keep Lando from turning into a complete hermit.”
“Touché,” Ginge said, putting a hand to his heart in mock defeat. “Alright, let’s get back to the review before I start feeling all gooey from this lovey-dovey vibe.”
As the filming continued, Ginge made a few more playful jabs at Lando and Y/N’s relationship. He turned to the camera with an exaggerated sigh. “You know, I wonder if we should just rename this video ‘Ginge With Lando & His Overly Affectionate Girlfriend.’ It might get more views.”
Lando tried to stifle a laugh, shaking his head, but failed miserably as a deep red blush crept onto his face. “Oh, shut up, Ginge.”
“Ginge, are you saying you don’t appreciate our affection?” Y/N, pretending to be offended, placed a hand on her chest in mock horror.
“Not at all!” The red-head said with a wink. “I just think it’s a bit much for a gaming video. But hey, if it makes you two happy, who am I to complain?”
After the video wrapped up, Lando and Y/N shared a smile, clearly enjoying the playful banter. Ginge, meanwhile, was still chuckling to himself, clearly amused by the day’s events.
“Thanks for stopping by, Y/N,” Lando said, giving her another quick kiss, this one lingering just a bit longer. “You made the video more fun.”
Y/N smiled back, her eyes sparkling with love. “Glad I could help. And don’t let Ginge get to you too much. He’s just jealous of our cuteness.”
Ginge shook his head, feigning exasperation. “Jealous? Me? Never. I’m just here to keep things interesting. And trust me, this is as interesting as it gets.”
As Y/N prepared to leave, she paused at the door, glancing back at Lando and Ginge. “You two better not be late for dinner. I’ve got a reservation at that new place we all wanted to try.”
Lando’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh, right! I almost forgot. Thanks for the reminder, Y/N.”
“No problem,” Y/N said, giving Lando a final wave before stepping out. “Have fun with the rest of your filming. And Ginge, try not to embarrass Lando too much.”
Ginge gave a mock salute. “I’ll do my best. But no promises!”
As the door closed behind Y/N, Lando turned to Ginge with a grin. “You know, you really should try to be a bit nicer. I’m sure you’d make a lot more friends if you weren’t always so cheeky.”
Ginge raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, if it weren’t for me, who would keep you on your toes?”
Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Fair point. I guess I can’t complain too much.”
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