#i’m not completely in love with all of these so if you have an idea that really clicks with me i might adopt it..

[lokissweater]

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.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @saelov3 @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @a-sorrowful-tune @cheeseburgerr69 @sleepiibunniiii

[ferrarifever]

hawaiian heat | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: you and charles go out clubbing while on vacation in hawaii, but he isn’t a fan of the attention his girl is getting

warnings: jealous! & possessive!charles, extremely light choking, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p in v

wc: 2.7k

masterlist🏎️𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪

author’s note: hi! this is my first fic so i'd really appreciate feedback! (also i'm scared this will flop lol). also requests are open or if anyone has prompt/headcanon ideas hmu because i’m always looking for (and need) inspo (and also mutuals because i’m new around here!) - stella♡

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

leading up to takeoff, you spent weeks making sure everything was perfectly prepared. you made sure to pack all your best swimsuits, your nicest outfits, and your finest jewelry. the opportunity to spend this much uninterrupted time with charles was rare, so you were determined to make the most of it.

filled with anticipation, the flight from monaco to maui felt like an eternity. you tried to downplay your excitement, but your plan completely failed once you arrived at the most picturesque villa you’ve seen in your life. it was the type you’d only seen online, and the reality you were staying there with the love of your life felt like a dream come true.

stepping out on the balcony of your room, you couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. so entranced by the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, you failed to hear charles joining you. you felt his arms, already warm from the maui sun wrap around your waist. he began pressing feather-light kisses into your neck,

“i can’t believe we’re finally here. i can’t wait to spend the week with you chéri” he whispered in between kisses

you momentarily turned your back to the water to face charles. resting a hand on his chest, you whispered back “i can already tell i’m not going to want to leave”

you lightly press against his chest, leading both of you back in your shared room. placing his hand over yours, charles fell back gently on the bed, pulling you on top of him. you align yourself with the monegasque, feeling him begin to press his hips into yours. you felt his hand grip your cheek, pulling your lips to his. feeling charles hands migrate to the bottom of your shirt, you knew the rush of heat that flooded your body could not be attributed to the hawaiian climate. fighting your desire, you attempt to pull away

“baby–” you mumble against his lips, trying to pull him out of his trance of desire.

“charles– c’mon baby i have to start getting ready” running your hands up his body, you push your hands against his shoulders to force yourself off of the driver. he did not hold back his displeasure, groaning and falling back into the mattress.

“the sooner we leave the quicker we can come back, love!” you yell back towards charles, while making your way toward the bathroom to get ready. dedicated to your goal of making the most of the trip, you picked your favorite dress out of your suitcase. might as well kick the trip off with a bang, right?

you pulled every trick in the book. you did your makeup to make your eyes pop. you styled your hair in the way you knew charles loved. the jewelry you put on was flashy, but not tacky. before slipping on your favorite dress, you put on charles’ favorite ferrari red lingerie set. the lace hugged your curves perfectly, giving you a perfect boost of confidence before going out. you slipped on a maroon satin mini dress, leaving little for the imagination. you knew you looked good, and anyone else you come across will know too.

after giving yourself a onceover, you stepped into your favorite pair of louboutins. you walked out of the bathroom, the clicking of your heels drawing charles attention away from his phone and up to you. he gasped quietly, sucking in air while biting his bottom lip.

“holy shit y/n– there’s no way we’re leaving this room” he choked out.

you giggled at your boyfriends awe before replying; “as amazing as that sounds, you know we would never hear the end of it if we’re late”

charles pulls himself off the bed, meeting you halfway. he gently pushes you up against the doorframe of the bathroom

“let them talk baby–they’ll get it once they see this dress” he says quickly before kissing you passionately

cutting him off before things get too heated, you push him away; “charles, seriously, lets not give them a reason to make fun of us on day one. we’ll regret it i promise”

charles groans dramatically, knowing you’re right but not wanting to admit to it. you grab your purse off your nightstand and give yourself one last look in the mirror before turning back to charles to ask; “ready?”

charles pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not to put up one last fight. he ultimately replies “ready,” before holding out his hand for you to grab.

you make it to the club with perfect timing, meeting up with the other drivers and their partners. charles politely greets the other drivers and with just a single glance at your outfit the other girls give you a knowing look.

as the drinks started flowing, you knew this was going to be a memorable night (if you can remember it in the morning). with enough liquor in your system, you joined the dancefloor with the other wives and girlfriends, while charles hung back in a booth.

you knew that when you learned over the bar to get another drink you were giving everyone a peak at the lacy set under your dress. with every sway of your hips, the skit of your dress rose higher and higher up your hips. you were having the time of your life, failing to realize that you were driving charles insane. you momentarily locked eyes across the room, and while you flashed a smile, charles lowered his eyebrows in dismay. as you turned back towards the dancefloor you felt charles’ arms wrap tightly around your waist

“i think you have had enough dancing for the night, hmm?” charles whispered into your eye

“baby c’mon…the night is just beginning!” you giggle back

“the fun will begin once we get out of here…it’s time to go” charles growls into your ear. your desire to fight back died as soon as you saw the passion in his eyes. a wave of heat flushed through your body, and you allowed the driver to grab your wrist and pull you out of the darkly lit club.

the uber ride back to the hotel was tense. as charles hand slipped higher and higher up your thigh, you had to use all of your will to not climb onto him in the backseat. as soon as the car shifted into park, charles was pulling you out of the seat and up to your room.

as soon as you heard the door shut behind you, charles pushed you back against it. alternating running his hand along the bottom of your dress and pinch the fabric, charles growled out

“you happy now? finally getting the attention you clearly desperately wanted in this dress?” his words sparked heat in your core and you failed to muster any reply, simply whimpering in response.

“mmhm? now that it’s just us, my bébé is shy?” he questioned. his hand finally migrated up your thigh to where you really needed him. he snapped the elastic of your thong against your core, continuing his teasing.

“charles…please…” you continued to whine. you knew you sounded pathetic, but your need continued to build in a way that led you to not think clearly.

as soon as the ‘please’ left your mouth, you felt charles remove his hand from up your dress and placed it carefully around your neck. he bent his knee between your thighs, holding you up against the door.

“you know bébé–if you asked that sweetly before we left i may be nicer right now. instead, you thought teasing me in front of the boys would end better for you. so right now i’m going to remind you that you’re mine and only mine.” he growled into your ear before migrating lower and lightly biting at your neck.

“i’m sorry” you apologized with a light smirk. making charles jealous was never your priority, but if it happened along the way you were going to enjoy the ride.

“prove it then” he snapped back. he increased pressure on your neck, slowly pushing you down until you dropped to your knees. you looked up at him, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster. he bit down on his lip in return, not wanting to praise you just yet. he nodded down at you, giving you silent permission to continue. you slowly unbutton his jeans. you know continuing to tease him is a dangerous game, but you know secretly charles likes it when you take your time with him.

you tug at his jeans, pulling his boxers down with them. his hard length bounces, hitting his abs. you take the opportunity to lick a long lick from the base to head of his length before taking his sensitive tip in your mouth. charles groans, throwing his head back as you take him deeper and deeper down your throat.

as your eyes begin to water, charles stretches out his arms before pressing his palm against the door to balance himself. the warmth of your mouth felt like heaven and he was doing everything in his power to ground himself.

your hands migrate to the back of his thighs, pulling him into you to take him even deeper into your mouth. you continue flicking your tongue below his tip, drawing obscene noises out of the driver.

he is able to center himself enough to look down and make eye contact with you. he quickly realizes he made a mistake, using your hair to divide the two of you.

“i’m not finishing down your pretty mouth tonight, cherí,” charles groans. just as you start processing his words, charles is pulling you off the floor and towards the bed. before either of you hit the mattress, charles is unzipping your dress. as the satin dress falls to the floor, your lace-clad body is presented to the monegasque. after taking in the sight before him, charles lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding

“mon ange” he says, gasping for breath. once you’re face-to-face you give him a quick peck on the lips before whispering in his ear “use me baby, i’m yours.”

charles pushes you back first onto the bed. he pauses for a moment to take in the view in front of him. still clad in lace with your heels, lips swollen, eyeliner running, hair tousled…you were a dream come true. he can’t hold back for long before collapsing on top of you. you pick yourself lightly off the mattress, leaving just enough space for you to unclasp your bra. as soon as you pull the red lace off your body, charles is attacking your skin with his lips.

he runs his hands down your torso before looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. he finally pulls them off after what felt like an eternity. his hands graze your thighs before making their way back to your core. he slowly runs a single finger where you needed him most.

“you're already so wet for me, bébé. no need to even prepare you, huh?” he says with a dry laugh. you didn't find it as funny, whining in return

“charles– please i need you so bad” you plead. he takes pity on you, sinking his middle finger into you. you moan slightly, you need for his touch your body had been begging for began to subside.

he continues pushing his middle finger in and out of you at what can only be considered a painstakingly slow pace. you continue your whining and muffled pleads, knowing it won’t do much at the moment

“who does this pussy belong to? hmm?” the speed of his words is a complete juxtaposition of his pace inside you.

“yours charles, yours!” you exclaim, “please do anything baby” you whine out. he was clearly not completely satisfied, but he took enough pity on you to move his thumb up towards your throbbing clit. the minute his thumb made contact with your throbbing bundle of nerves, you arched your back off the mattress. you attempted to moan out charles name, and although his title may not have been clear, your pleasure was.

as he began slowly rubbing circles on your clit, he added another finger inside you. you did not realize how deep the need inside of you was until this moment. you had no clue what to do with your body, alternating between gripping the sheets and running your hands through charles hair.

“now cherí, i’m going to be good to you today and let you get off on my fingers, you know why?” he questioned you, while quickening his trusting pace inside you.

you attempted an answer, but the fear of giving the wrong response and overwhelming pleasure led it to be incomprehensible. charles laughed slightly before filling you in,

“because i’m the only one who can make you feel this way bébé. none of the boys at that club would be able to make you feel this good with just his fingers” he announced. you nodded your head rapidly,

“only you baby–” you repeated like a mantra as you fell over the edge. your body spasmed and your stomach clenched and you screamed out. charles continued working you through your orgasm, slowing down his pace as you caught your breath. he slowly removed his fingers from where they were curled inside of you. he licked his middle finger quickly before holding them to your mouth. you began sucking on his fingers,

“now you can feel and taste how good i make you feel bébé” he says with confidence, knowing the power he holds over you.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. his wet hand moves down between your thighs, pushes them open just enough to make room for him. he continues leaning in closer to you before he whispers

“ready?” he asks carefully. you nod, using all your strength to mutter out a quick “yes.”

you feel his length slowly penetrate you, every inch pulling another gasp out of your lungs. he hands grip your waist as he immediately begins rocking in and out of you, filling you up with every rock of his hips. every thrust brought you closer and closer to your edge, and charles knew. he moves his hand from your waist back to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan at the additional stimulation. before you can process the added pleasure, you hear charles begin to speak,

“could any of the other guys in the club make you feel like this baby? hmm?” charles growls into you ear, frustration from earlier simmering back up

“only you charles! no one else, baby” you squeal out quickly. charles’ pressure on your clit gets faster as his thrusts get harder, pulling you closer and closer to your edge

“who’s are you bébé?” he growls out, keeping his explosive pace

“i’m yours baby! only yours! please” you scream out, gripping the bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself

“go ahead cherí, cum for me” charles says in the calmest tone of the night. with a scream of his name, your walls flutter around him as you cum on his cock. so wrapped up in your own pleasure, it wasn’t until charles grabbed your hips tightly and slowed his pace you felt him filling you with his cum.

he stills over you, both of you panting and fighting to catch your breath. charles leans to kiss you quickly before slowly pulling out of you. he rolls next to you on the bed, both of you still fighting your air. charles makes his way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean you off. as you feel the cloth running up the thigh, you remind charles

“you know it’s always been you, right? and always will be?” you remind charles

“mmhm i know cherí,” he replies calmly.

he leans over to press light kisses on your neck before continuing, “...but i never mind a reminder” ;)

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

                                                 *

 One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

                                                 *

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

 “We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

                                                  *

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

 The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

[anomalyaly]

right where you left me

Summary: You died. Sebastian secretly had a portrait of you commissioned.

I profusely apologize for the pain.

Inspired by @sychenb for the prompt idea. Also crediting @sloanesallow for her headcanon about Sebastian keeping track of numbers.

(also sort of inspired by Unus Annus - iykyk - and Taylor Swift, if you couldn't guess by the title)

Tags: Angst, F!Reader POV (you), unreliable narrator, vague ship (Sebastian x reader/Ominis x reader), Sebastian was in love with you but never confessed, death, grief, ambiguous ending, overall the sads in general, I cried while writing this

AO3/Wattpad

It had been 279 days since you died.

At least, that’s what Sebastian tells you — your portrait, anyway. It was all that was left of you after the devastating battle you had fought and never walked away from. You hadn’t even known he’d had a portrait of you commissioned when you were alive until you woke up, your body cold, your face illuminated by the flickering candles of the Undercroft.

He comes to visit you every day — some days, he simply sits in front of you, cross-legged and silent. You creep into the frame and study him, the shadows on his face, a haunted look in his eye — unfamiliar. You can only recall a bright, talkative, charming boy with whom you were once close. You didn’t recognize him the first time he visited you, yet his presence brings you comfort.

On other days, you see traces of the boy he was before. He bursts in through the gate talking nonstop about everyone who misses you, about something he saw that you would have liked or that reminded him of you. Sometimes, he even brings you gifts and places them in front of your frame so you can admire them when he’s away.

That’s where he keeps you — hidden behind a wooden crate in the Undercroft like a sacred shrine, untouched by anyone but him. He only speaks with you when he is alone.

Another boy comes in on occasion, and you only know because of the sound of his voice and the pulsing red light of his wand that you can see from behind the pile of crates. Ominis, you remember Sebastian telling you, another friend from when you were alive. Sometimes they argue, other times they refuse to acknowledge each other. But Sebastian always keeps you tucked away, his own personal secret.

“It’s almost Christmas,” he sighs as he plops down in front of you. “300 days since you…well, since— ”

He could never bring himself to finish that sentence, even after almost a year. You never finish it for him.

“Are you going back to Feldcroft?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. I couldn’t do that to you.”

You knew he probably hadn’t been back since that dreadful day. He had only spoken of it once to refresh your memory. He never brought it up again.

“Sebastian,” you say, and he perks up at the sound of his name leaving your painted lips, “how come you always hide me away when Ominis comes in? Doesn’t he want to talk to me, too?”

His eyes flash with something — anger, perhaps, it was hard to tell from your two-dimensional world — and he stands, approaching your portrait. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m only a portrait,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like you’ve been practicing necromancy.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say, but you don’t completely understand why. He turns away from you, fists clenched, shoulders tense and hunched over, before running his fingers through his hair and repeating himself more adamantly. “He wouldn’t understand.”

You remember him uttering a similar statement throughout your short life at Hogwarts — secrets that only the two of you shared, unbeknownst to Ominis until it was too late. “Surely he misses me, too— ”

“Did you love him?”

The question takes you by surprise, though you think it’s not the first time he’s asked it. “What?”

Sebastian whirls to face you, his gaze intense, demanding. “Did you love him? Or did you love me?”

Your portrait blinks, confused. Truthfully, you hadn’t been alive nearly long enough to confirm your feelings for either of them, but you knew that both boys had been important to you during your last few months of life. The portrait of you had only been a time capsule of your fifteen-year-old self — undecided and immature. You’re not even certain if the emotions you feel now are real or remnants of what you experienced when you were alive. “I…I cared deeply for both of you if that’s what you’re asking.”

Your answer nearly breaks him, as if he’s heard it a million times before. He tugs at his hair, the movement causing him to look frenzied and mad. “That’s not what I asked! Who did you — ”

“Sebastian?”

The voice of the intruder causes both of you to freeze. Sebastian pulls himself out from behind the crate and holds a finger to his lips before pushing it in front of you once more.

“Over here, Ominis.”

You hear footsteps and see the red glow of the other boy’s wand, then shuffling as Sebastian strategically places himself in front of the wooden box. The echoing footsteps grow closer, and you straighten at Ominis’s frantic tone as he speaks.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks. “I…I thought I heard…her.”

“No one else is here but me,” Sebastian says, guarded.

You can practically feel Ominis’s internal struggle to believe him. You decide that there have been enough secrets between the three of you — you’re not going to let it carry on post-mortem.

“Ominis? Is that you?” you call out. You hear Sebastian press his body against the crate in front of you. Ominis pushes past him, and they both tumble into it, knocking it over and exposing your portrait.

Chaos ensues at Ominis’s realization. The two boys are shouting at each other in front of you as you are helpless to stop them — Ominis, for having yet another secret kept from him, and Sebastian, for defending his reasonings. You aren’t sure if it’s because of jealousy, grief, or some combination of the two, but all you want is for the noise to stop.

You call out helplessly from your portrait, wishing you could step between them, just as you had done time and time again all those months ago. Before everything had gone so wrong.

Suddenly, hot, angry tears are pouring down both of their faces, and you are overcome with just how useless you are at this moment — a fragmented memory, trapped within the confines of your magical canvas. You want nothing more than to hug each of them, to let them feel your arms around them in comfort and take their pain away.

But you are gone.

The two boys now stand solemn and silent in front of you. Ominis takes a step closer, his wand hovering over your portrait before he runs his fingers along the gilded frame. “Is it…really you?”

“No.” You can hear the flatness in Sebastian’s voice, how tired and worn he truly is. He repeats exactly what you thought only moments before as if to confirm it. “She hardly remembers what happened, or even who we are. She’s just a fragment. A memory.”

You want to argue that it is you, but you know that he’s right. You barely remembered your living self until Sebastian explained everything to you on his daily visits. Whispers of your personality still shine through on occasion, but you are otherwise simply existing.

Ominis sighs, and you can hear the weight behind it, as if he had been holding his breath and finally allowed himself to release it. He traces his fingers along the divots of the frame once more, and you try to will yourself to feel it.

The two boys exchange an unspoken conversation that thickens the tension in the air. They seem to come to an agreement, and you let out a small breath — if you can call it that — of relief when they sit down in front of you and appear to bask in your presence. You stay quiet and allow them this moment — it’s the only thing you can do.

The days that follow are the same. No longer is Sebastian coming in alone for covert meetings with your portrait. Now, you see both Sebastian and Ominis at the same time every single day, a religious appointment that they’ve set aside just for you. They take turns talking to you, even if they can only manage a few words, and you learn to appreciate their company, knowing that you were loved by both of them in life.

Just like old times, Sebastian says, and the three of you laugh.

Christmas approaches quickly, or that’s what they say when they come to visit a short while later. They bring your favorite things from when you were alive — chocolate frogs, flowers, even books, which Sebastian reads to you — and they tell you stories about you and the kind of person they knew you to be. You wonder if it’s true, or if they have created an idealistic image of you since you are no longer there with them. Not really.

Kind, they say that you were, thoughtful, loving, self-sacrificial, and maybe a bit idealistic. You were friends with both of them, after all, the mischievous pair that they were, before everything was taken away from them, before life was unfair. They try to smile for you and remind you that Christmas at the castle is a time for celebration, but you can tell that it’s a weak facade.

You smile back at them anyway.

The anniversary of your death approaches. Neither of them can bring themselves to say anything, aside from a few words to honor you. So the three of you sit in tearful silence, admiring the flowers that they decorated your portrait with. You think you can almost smell the sweet aroma of the bouquets.

Something changes in the air — you can sense it — though you aren’t sure what. You notice it when their visits become shorter, with fewer stories to tell, and fewer presents left in front of your frame. Sebastian and Ominis start showing up at separate times, stopping in for a brief hello before leaving with an excuse. You start to wonder what they are doing when they are gone, but you are unable to leave your frame — only one portrait of you was ever commissioned.

Soon, they start missing days, returning at a later time with profuse apologies about how life was busy, but they still miss you. Difficult classes, detention, studying for NEWTs, and preparing for a career — all of these seem to take precedence over you. But they still manage to make time in all of the hectic day-to-day activities, and you look forward to the days when they do come.

You wake up one morning and realize you are in a different location — Feldcroft, most likely, though you hadn’t seen it since that fateful day. Sebastian hangs your frame up on the wall, promising that he and Ominis will come to visit you more often now that they have graduated.

They don’t.

The length of time in between seeing them grows longer, you’re certain of it. Each time one of them arrives, they look a little bit different — sometimes they have longer hair, other times a bit of scruff around their chins, but they always come in looking more weathered than they had when you last saw them.

You realize that they are doing something that you will never again be able to join them in — growing older. You start to wonder about their lives outside of you, yet your painted mind cannot comprehend what an adult life looks like, forever frozen in your adolescent state. You find that you are unable to relate to any of their stories, and they seem to be holding back in what they choose to share.

I wish you were still here, they always say before they go, and you start to wonder if they mean it.

At long last, the visits from your once two closest friends become scarce, and you aren’t certain how much time has passed since someone last spoke to you. The bright flowers that once decorated your golden frame wither and die, and the little gifts they used to leave stay untouched and unopened. The tiny cottage in Feldcroft becomes a sepulcher of your essence — a permanent reminder that you are no longer among the living.

You can’t help but wonder if it was something you did, if their reasons for not returning were your fault. You can feel the stories that they used to tell you fading away, unable to retain the memories in your current form.

You decide that it’s time to rest.

In the quiet house, just south of Hogwarts, your portrait closes its eyes. You do not wake again.

[keeryhours]

please don’t go, i love you so - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

When you get in a serious accident, Rafe’s true feelings are left staring him in the face.

Requested

Warnings:

Lots of drama and angst, language, serious car accident, medical stuff, talk of TBIs, broken bones, and other injuries

Word Count: 4k

A/N:

Had to do research for this one, but I’m definitely no expert on medical stuff so forgive me if I get something wrong 🥲 Requests are open! BD Rafe requests can be anywhere in the timeline, past, future, smut, fluff, or angst :) Other OBX (or ST) requests also very welcome. I hope you enjoy this one!

let me know if you want to be on any tag lists :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“Iris, please, baby, we’ve got to get your shoes on.”

“No!” the toddler yelled back, running circles around the living room.

You were out of energy. You sat on the couch, your face in your hands, as she continued to run and you tried to clear your head and just breathe.

It had been a long day. A bad day. Iris had been absolutely wild, endless energy and more attitude in her nearly 2 year old self than you thought possible. And it didn’t help that JJ was out with the pogues, so you didn’t even have any backup. It was 7pm, nearing her bedtime, and this had been your whole day. You were over it.

Everything had been a fight with her all day, but the current one was getting her dressed for pickup. It was Rafe’s weekend, and he’d be pulling up any second. You didn’t feel too thrilled about seeing Rafe right now, either.

Things had been complicated with Rafe. You felt like it was a constant back and forth with him, especially recently. Not about co-parenting, never about Iris - you knew you were lucky that the two of you got along so well when it came to parenting your daughter. It was feelings that got tricky.

You didn’t even know how you felt about Rafe yourself. On one hand, you knew you loved him. You’d always love him. But just because you loved him didn’t mean you should be together. You could never forget the toxic situation your relationship had been. Constant fighting, endless tears, trust issues and anger problems.

That’s not even to mention the way he would act around you lately. He was hot and cold. Sometimes he acted all affectionate, kissing and touching you, fucking you, like you’d never broken up in the first place. Other times he was cold and withdrawn. It left you feeling confused, like emotional whiplash, and you were honestly tired of it.

You debated on letting yourself have a quick cry, but quickly wrote that off as you thought of how humiliating it would be to answer the door to Rafe with your face all red and puffy from crying. You took a second to collect yourself, before putting the Mom pants back on.

“Iris Elaine Cameron,” you said sternly, standing from the couch.

The little girl came to a stop, looking up at you with a big grin on her face, totally oblivious to your frustration. The sight of her angelic face softens you immediately, of course. She had her light brown hair up in tiny pigtails, dressed in one of the many outfits Rafe had bought her. Some designer brand dress, not that you had any idea about that or thought it made much sense to dress a toddler in such expensive clothes. She looked cute, though.

You held up her Mary Jane shoes. “Are you gonna let Mommy put your shoes on so Daddy can come pick you up?” you asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Her little face lit up with joy. “Dada! Dada!”

Your heart clenched in your chest. Iris had been a total Daddy’s Girl since day 1 - and Rafe was completely wrapped around her little finger - but sometimes the reminder of him hit you especially hard.

At the promise of seeing her dad soon, Iris happily hopped over to you. You smiled as you lifted her onto your lap and slid her shoes on, buckling them. “There. See? All done,” you said. Iris held her palms out and twisted them, baby sign language for all done, which made you giggle. When you had read the articles and brought it up to Rafe, he had thought teaching her sign language as an infant was dumb. But it actually ended up being extremely helpful since she couldn’t communicate with words yet.

“Book?” she asked you, and you knew exactly what she wanted - her favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are. She’d have you read it 50 times a day if you’d do it. You smiled as you reached over to unzip the diaper bag, pulling the book out. She broke into a huge grin just at the sight of it.

You opened the beloved book and began to read to her, making her giggle with the different voices you’d do for the monsters. Her favorite part was always when you or Rafe would read the line “Oh please don’t go - we’ll eat you up - we love you so!” while attacking her with kisses and tickles. She laughed so hard every time.

When the book was finished, you closed it and slipped it back in the bag to go to her dad’s. She pouted like she was about to throw a fit if you didn’t read it again. “Uh uh. You’re gonna have to wait until Daddy reads it tonight.” You leaned in, rubbing your nose against hers, making her giggle.

You sat Iris down on the ground at the exact time you heard the front door opening. You raised your eyebrows knowingly at Iris, who’s eyes went wide in the direction of the hallway. You both knew perfectly well who it was.

Rafe sauntered into the living room, sunglasses sitting on his face despite the sun already beginning to set. His bored expression was immediately replaced by a huge grin as he saw his daughter.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said, lifting her into his arms as she squealed with delight.

You avoided eye contact with Rafe, busying yourself around the living room as you made sure everything Iris needed that he didn’t already have at his place was packed in her diaper bag. Once you were satisfied, you approached Rafe with the bag, handing it over. He took it from you with a curious expression.

“You’re being weird,” he said, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.

You ignored him, leaning over to give Iris a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, baby. I’ll see you Sunday night, okay?”

Rafe doesn’t take his eyes off you, like he’s examining you inside and out. “What’s your deal?”

You sighed - you already felt defeated and exhausted going into this encounter, you didn’t really want to do this tonight. “Nothing. Everything is fine.”

But Rafe knows you better than anyone.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you. “This is because I took Briana on another date, isn’t it?”

You felt your skin turn ice cold at the accusation, your defenses building themselves high. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

The slightest smirk dances across his lips as he sits a wiggling Iris back on the ground, his eyes never leaving yours. “That is why you’re mad.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh as you crossed your arms and looked away from him, watching Iris start dragging everything you’d just cleaned up out of the toy box again, paying no mind to the two of you. “I’m not mad. And if I was, I have much better things to be upset about than who you choose to stick your dick into,” you hissed back at him.

Rafe barked out a laugh, looking up at the ceiling as he did like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. “You are so full of shit.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Get out, Rafe. I’ll see you Sunday.”

He watched you for a minute longer as you both stood there in silence. Finally he let out a big sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

You didn’t acknowledge the comment as he moved to lift Iris into his arms again, her bag slung over his shoulder. You followed him to the front door, ready to shut him out as soon as possible, but as soon as he stepped over the threshold, he turned back to you.

“You know, it’s none of your business who I see. We’re not together. You’re not my girl.”

You just looked at him, his words cutting far deeper and harder than you wanted to admit. “Same goes for you too, Rafe,” you said, thinking of the multiple times Rafe’s temper and jealousy had ruined one of your dates. Half the island was scared to even look at you because of him. It was fucking annoying.

Rafe scoffed. He shook his head one more time with that stupid grin on his face. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said, and then he was walking off towards his truck.

You didn’t linger. You shut the door as soon as he stepped away, leaning against the wood as you took a deep, shaky breath. God, you hated that arrogant asshole sometimes.

You wallowed in your despair on the couch for a while that night, switching between various shows, none of them catching your interest. Eventually you think what’s the point, and decide to just go to bed early. You might as well take advantage of the sleep without having to worry about getting up early.

—

You hoped you would feel better the next day.

You didn’t.

You made breakfast for you and JJ, not something you typically do when Iris was at Rafe’s, but you felt like pancakes. And JJ certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“You look depressed,” JJ pointed out helpfully through a mouthful of pancake as you sat at the small dining table across from him.

You glared at him over your plate before eating a bite of your own breakfast. JJ held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Touchy subject this morning, I see.”

As much as you loved your twin brother, you were relieved when he picked up his surf board after breakfast and told you he was going out. You didn’t exactly feel up to company.

With JJ gone, you attempted to stay busy around the house, but once everything was cleaned to perfection, you found yourself standing in the silent living room, feeling like you had no idea what to do with yourself. What was wrong with you, you thought. The place was always too quiet without Iris.

You needed a drive to clear your head.

You snatched your keys from the side table and left the house, still dressed in the tank top and athletic shorts you’d been cleaning the house in. You just wanted to drive around the island for a while, you weren’t really going anywhere, so you didn’t care how you looked.

You turned on your favorite sad playlist and sang at the top of your lungs to songs about love and broken hearts and pain. You felt pretty silly, but this was your time, your coping mechanism, and you weren’t going to feel bad about it.

Fuck Rafe Cameron. And not in the way you usually did.

You drove with the windows down, the salty breeze whipping through your hair, cooling your skin. You felt yourself starting to feel lighter.

You didn’t see the truck barreling faster than the speed limit around the corner. No one even had time to lay on the horn. You didn’t see or feel anything except a brief flash of pain and then - nothing.

—

“Wow! That’s beautiful, baby.”

Rafe lifted up the piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles, examining it like it was on display at The Louvre. It was the fifth one he’d been given since he sat on the floor with Iris, crayons and paper spread out all around them. Each piece of art went in a stack to be displayed somewhere in the house.

He watched his daughter as she picked up the green jumbo crayon and began roughly scribbling it across another blank page. The same big smile he always had around Iris was spread across his face. Nothing made him happier than spending time with her.

Rafe was caught off guard by the sound of his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. He sighed as he pulled it out, expecting to see either Topper or Kelce forgetting it was his weekend with Iris. But his eyebrows furrowed as he saw it was JJ calling him. JJ never called or texted him. They only had each other’s numbers in case of emergency.

Rafe felt a jolt of pure fear deep in his chest.

He answered the call, tentatively bringing the phone to his ear. “Maybank?” he answered.

He felt the nausea spread over him like a tidal wave when JJ spoke your name in his panicked voice. It was you. God, something bad had happened to you.

“S-slow down,” Rafe said, holding his shaking hand out in front of him as if JJ could see. Pure panic was spreading and growing through every vein in his body. “What…what happened?”

JJ’s voice was shaking too as he spoke. Rafe could tell he was pacing, probably pulling at his messy blonde hair as he did. “She- it was a truck. Guy was speeding and hit her head-on. Her car is totaled, they…they haven’t even let me see her yet. I don’t even know if she’s okay. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left this morning. Fuck!”

Rafe couldn’t even process JJ blaming himself for something that definitely wasn’t his fault, because he was doing the same thing. He had been a total asshole to you last night. The idea that that could possibly have been the last conversation he’ll ever have with you has him feeling like he’s going to be sick on the floor.

“I’m on my way,” Rafe said simply, and then he was hanging up the call, shoving his phone in his pocket and climbing to his feet.

Sarah was happy to watch Iris as Rafe grabbed his keys and sprinted to his truck, with promises to text her about your condition as soon as he knew anything at all. He probably would have been driving 15 over the speed limit if he wasn’t so disgustingly reminded of the dangers of the road. Instead he drove as fast as he safely could, a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he clenched his jaw tightly.

His head was spinning as he rushed into the hospital, looking around the waiting room for any sign of JJ. He didn’t see the blonde boy anywhere. He approached the receptionist desk instead, urgently giving your name to the tired looking receptionist.

“She’s in the Neuro ICU, room 5,” the receptionist said. Rafe felt his breath hitch - the fucking ICU? “We only allow two visitors at a time, and it’s immediate family only,” she continued. “You are…?”

Rafe hesitated. “Uh…I’m her boyfriend,” he said the first thing that came to mind. “But we have a child together. Please.”

The receptionist eyed him for a moment, before nodding, giving him a sympathetic look. She printed a visitor’s badge for him and handed it over. He thinks she said something about wishing you the best, but all he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears as he mindlessly walked towards the elevators.

The last time Rafe had been in a hospital was for Iris’ birth, decidedly a much happier occasion. He felt out of place and awkward as he walked through the quiet, sterile halls, following signs pointing him where he wanted to go.

When he reached the ICU and approached room 5, he froze. He had never felt so scared in his life, he thought. He didn’t know if he could do this.

But you needed him.

He slid the glass door open, a flash of blonde hair peeking from around the privacy curtain where JJ was sitting. Rafe mustered all the strength he had to walk forward into the room. JJ looked up at him as he entered, but his eyes were immediately drawn to you as his heart shattered in his chest.

He clasped his hands behind his head as he took in the scene in front of him. He was holding off a panic attack as tears welled in his eyes. You were there on the bed, and you looked so utterly broken that it made Rafe feel like he couldn’t breathe. You were hooked up to an IV, about a million monitors mostly over your chest and head, a cast on an arm and one on a leg, a ventilator.

Rafe’s shaky legs practically gave out then, his body collapsing in the empty chair by your bedside. He was terrified to look at you, knowing he was going to start crying harder if he did. He looked at JJ instead, who looked equally wrecked, his eyes red from crying.

JJ gave Rafe the rundown the doctor had just given him. Traumatic brain injury, broken bones in your left arm and leg. You hadn’t regained consciousness at all since the accident. Things were still up in the air, nothing the doctors would say brought Rafe any comfort. They didn’t know about surgery yet, they didn’t know how long it would take you to recover, hell, they couldn’t even say if you’d be the same when you woke up.

When Rafe finally worked up the courage to be close to you, to actually look at you - he didn’t know his heart could break like this. Your normally smooth, perfect skin that he loved to trace his fingertips over because of the way you’d react to his touch, was now covered in deep bruises. Your face - that beautiful face he always adored so much, the one he fell in love with back in junior high - bruised and lacerated. He couldn’t even tell himself you were just peacefully napping. You looked like hell.

The next weeks were long and difficult. Iris stayed with the Cameron’s, and while Rafe spent every second he could drag himself away from your bedside spending it with her, he didn’t leave the hospital much at all. He grew used to sleeping in the world’s most uncomfortable chair.

Your recovery was truly a miracle. You didn’t end up needing brain surgery, but they kept you monitored for weeks. You did suffer a pretty bad TBI, and you had surgery to repair the broken bones in your arm and leg. The ventilator was removed first, which Rafe was the most relieved about, because that terrified him more than anything else.

When you finally woke up, Rafe was the first thing you saw.

The second he noticed your eyes fluttering open, Rafe was bolting up straight in his chair, his hand gently cupping your cheek with a barely-there touch as he whispered your name.

“R…Rafe?” you had croaked, voice raspy and dry from disuse and the ventilator tube being down your throat. Rafe called the nurses immediately, and multiple examinations, a plastic hospital jug of ice water, and some heavy pain meds later, you were feeling…okay.

JJ was there for most of the day like he was every day he didn’t have work. He actually cried when he showed up and saw you awake, which surprised Rafe because he didn’t even seem embarrassed about it. He just embraced you as gently as possible so as not to hurt you, and it was clear you were equally as happy to see him. There was that twin bond, something Rafe found a little weird (especially when the two of you would communicate without even talking) but also…endearing.

Recovery was a long road, and it was a lot of hard work, but the doctors were confident in your ability to return to normal in time. You had to work on your memory, your speech. Physical therapy took up most of your days. But Rafe knew you were strong, and you showed him every day. Even Iris got to visit as often as she could, but you didn’t want her in a hospital for too long so she wouldn’t get sick.

Rafe sat by your side late at night, gently brushing his fingers through your hair as you laid with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. Your hospital stay was finally almost over. You’d be coming home tomorrow, staying with the Camerons so you had the help.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. You were happy, but his behavior was confusing to you at the same time. “You’re being weirdly sweet,” you said with a teasing smile.

Rafe looked away from your eyes. “Yeah…well.”

The two of you sat with that silence for a while. You knew there was plenty he wasn’t saying, and you wondered if he would.

Rafe reached forward and traced a finger along your cheek, over your jaw line. The cuts and bruises on your face were mostly healed now, and you were endlessly grateful when they told you they didn’t expect any lasting scarring. His light touch sent a shiver through your body.

When Rafe finally spoke again, he sounded different than you had ever heard him. His voice was weak, broken. “Don’t do that to me again.”

Your face fell as you looked at him - really looked at him - and saw the pain hidden deep behind his blue eyes. Obviously you knew none of this was your fault, but you felt terrible for what you’d put your loved ones through all the same.

“I’m sorry-“ you began to say, but Rafe shook his head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” he said, his voice choked up as tears welled in those deep eyes. The words hit you like a physical blow, you felt yourself moving back as you looked him in the face. “I don’t give a fuck about Briana, or any other girl on this island compared to you. And it’s not just ‘we were together for a while and you’re the mother of my daughter so I’ll always love you’,” he continued, like the words were spilling out of his mouth faster than he could control. “No, like, I love you.”

He was looking you so intensely in the eyes that it took your breath away. You felt tears in your own eyes, falling down your cheeks before you could do anything about it. “Rafe…” you breathed out, you didn’t know what else to say. You weren’t even sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Maybe we could…maybe we could try again,” he said, the hope audible in his voice. “A…relationship?”

You let out a long shaky exhale. “I…” You searched your brain for the right words to say, searched your chest for how you really felt. “We…it’s never worked, Rafe, we never-“

“Do you love me?”

The question caught you completely off guard. “What?”

“Do you love me?” he repeated simply. “I told you how I felt. I need to know how you really feel.”

You swallowed. “I love you, Rafe,” you said, your voice small. “I’ve always loved you. But it’s still never worked for us.”

Rafe clasped both your smaller hands in his, being gentle with your cast. “I’m serious this time, baby. This is…things are different.” He held intense eye contact with you as he spoke, and you could see the genuine emotion swirling behind his eyes. “I’ve had a taste of what life would be like without you, and I don’t wanna go through that again.”

You had no control whatsoever as the tears started to fall down your face faster, a sob escaping from your throat. Rafe pulled you into the tightest gentle hug he could manage, his large hand combing through your smooth hair as you cried into his chest. He was a little panicked, he didn’t know if he had said something wrong to upset you. He didn’t want to make you sad anymore.

When you pulled back, Rafe wiped the tears from your face. He traced his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. His gaze flicked up to your eyes, back to your mouth, and then he was leaning in to press the softest kiss to your lips. When he broke the kiss and looked into your eyes again, he could see the mix of emotions swirling behind them. He wished he could read what you were thinking.

He grabbed your good hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. “You don’t have to decide anything now. You have plenty else to worry about. Just…think about it for me?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours, which gave him some reassurance. You didn’t know what your decision would be, but you wanted to make sure you made the right one. For you, for Rafe, and for Iris.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

His lips turned up in a smile. “I love you too.”

[corseque]

On the scale of 1 (Rise of Skywalker) to 10 (Shadowbringer/Endwalker), where would you place Veilguard?

critical post

I’ve burst into enraged tears like 5 times since I finished it, which is not nearly even close to as many times as Rise of Skywalker, but still 5 times too many. Just the shallowness of the writing, the obviousness, the incredible frustration at the simplicity, the ignoring so much of my favorite character in order to make a stupidly simple plot work, the horrendous time I had trying to ignore Rook’s annoying stupid fuckass pov while just trying to self-insert myself into the end of my favorite fictional character of all time’s story after waiting 10 years. I screamed in frustration that I had to hear the painfully obvious commentary these brand newcomer characters who I did not give a shit about, explaining to me like a toddler how I should feel about revelations I have been writing about for 10 years, especially when what they were saying was stupid as fuck. I cried at the thought of so many cutscenes and so much effort went into stories I found very forgettable and went nowhere, while they were able to only scrounge up like 10 total animated shots reuniting Solas and Lavellan. I mourn that I could not make any decisions in a BioWare game. I mourn Solas’ story so much, and probably will for years. I will never get over the way they talked down to him and never listened to him for even a second, lest they actually have to write a branching path into their game. I hate that the theme was regret but Rook regrets nothing ever so (shrugs) regret doesn’t affect them or mean anything to them. I mourn the loss of the voice and point of view of his people, the ones he was fighting for, the ones who are alive. I mourn that it turns out that he’s just a stupid feral dog who is 100% wrong about everything always and he always has been from the beginning of time. I cried that the game said the answer was that Solas should NOT try to help his people and they never even discussed it as a philosophical question or the ethics of it or anything, or playing as a character so dense they never once even wondered if accidentally freeing the gods killed more people overall than the veil coming down would have. (We avoided this question like the plague, lest we feel less like purely Good Heroes who could talk down to the gods with righteous fury). I mourn that I’m never going to know what would have happened without the Veil. I feel so stupid for thinking that elves or spirits as factions would appear in any capacity with lines and perspectives in this game. I’m so angry at how safe and smoothed over everything in the setting is, and how it felt like the main characters never struggled with anything and have nothing to say. I can’t believe Dragon Age is so shallow and unsatisfying and head-empty. I mourn that the story of Dragon Age is Over to me and I will never play another game.

I’ve also cried a few times at the completely separated and individual imagery and music in the last scene. I’ve cried that my favorite character didn’t die in any world after 10 years of being at death’s door. I’ve cried at the thought of him being a little worm spirit, and that I was right about him the whole time. I cried when activating Felassan’s crystal in the final fight and seeing all the buffs. I cried when I turned the page and realized the default inquisitor was exactly the same as my personal Lavellan, down to hair style, eye color, hair color, vallaslin removed. I cried when I realized Solas thought he should have died as a spirit rather than be born. I cried that the main story Dragon Age has been telling the whole time has been about the reconciliation and freeing of my favorite fictional character. I cried that Solas and Lavellan got married in the end, when I genuinely wasn’t expecting either of them to even be alive. They’re both still alive and in love in every single world. I can’t wrap my head around that.

I have no idea where to put it. It’s a few high highs but some intolerably low fucking lows. It could have been so much worse but the bar is on the fucking floor. I go back and forth between moderate enjoyment to just being so angry. It could have been so much more and I do not know who to bite for it.

I have no idea.

[quantum1mmortality]

oooooo I have so many ideas…

If you have a kid with curly, how does he react as a father? He gives me SUCH STRONG girl dad energy and I can’t tell you why. This man is a GIRL DAD. How is he as a parent? Does he cook? Can he help his kid with math homework? Is he a family man? I’m so curious to see your thoughts on this.

Prob like the 7th request I've gotten for dad/dilf Curly 😭😭 also to my very special anon who has been in my asks for a very special Jimmy request, give me a few days, it'll be out love 🪽(I'm busy asf rn)

Tw/cw; none!! All sfw this time :) see guys I can be family friendly when I want to be

Not proofread

I've actually gone over this in the tags of a different post, I do think Curly would be a girl dad. He'd want twin girls and you guys canNOT tell me different.

After you come home from the hospital, Curly would do literally everything for you and the new babies. He'd prepare healthy meals for you, he'd help clean and feed the babies, if one of them started crying in the middle of the night he'd insist on being the one to take care of it, etc.

Basically the bare minimum but is still praised because the bare minimum is hard to come by now.

I see Curly as the type of man to be raised by a single mom and having no father figure. Morbid? A bit, but it helped shape him into the super awesome sauce girl dad he is today.

Because of having an absent father, Curly would go above and beyond to make sure he's present in his children's lives. Any days he has off, he's spending time with you and your new baby girls. Oh, his daughter's are in a school play? He's calling off work and showing up with flowers and chocolates for both of them. Shit like that

Curly would come into work late or just take the day off completely if you needed extra help with the kids. He'd leave work early to pick them up from school if you couldn't. He WANTS to be there. And just remember guys, if he wanted to, he would.

Curly would also try to be home early so he could read them bedtime stories. Idk I just think that's cute.

Once they start growing up, he's getting more into their interests. Curly would be the type of dad to let his daughters put makeup on him and have them do his nails. He would happily walk into pony express as a well known captain and have nail polish everywhere on his hands BUT his nails.

And yes, he would help his kids with their homework. Something about Curly makes me think he took mathematics in college, and I can safely say he is breaking every generational curse by not making your children cry over their math homework.

BONUS CONTENT!!!; Curly would want older twin daughters (obviously, we just went over that) and a younger boy. He would want to name the boy Dallas, but I can't think of any names for the girls. He'd like the name Phoebe a lot, so probably that and maybe a name like Sophia for the other twin.

A/N; too many curly fics, must make master list

[defmaybe]

Pegging & Penetration

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung & Kim Gaeul x Male Reader

1.1k words

A/N: Thanks to @capslocked for the idea lmao. Also, this is my last work before the finals, I promise.

—

The sound of plastic cocks filling holes—two of each, to be exact—echoes through the room. You find yourself naked on the bed, on all fours. Your rear is being rammed by Gaeul’s phallus, while your mouth, breathlessly, is being used by Wonyoung.

“Yes, yes, bitch boy–” Gaeul gives your ass a slap, and you moan into Wonyoung’s strap in response “–just take my cock like that.”

“Look at me while you’re sucking my cock, slut,” says Wonyoung. You immediately comply, looking up to see that gorgeous face and her naked body. Your neck strains‌ a little.

You absolutely adore the way these two are treating you—like a toy made to be used just for their twisted pleasures. Your tears are running down your cheeks from Wonyoung’s cock, constantly hitting the back of your throat with no relent. Your jaw is all tired from taking in Wonyoung’s length, drooling on her shaft, but you won’t complain. Being a submissive bitch boy is what you’re made for, and you’d pay fortunes to do this, even if it’s just a second.

Your ass is all gaped at this point. Gaeul fucks you hard, too hard. The tip of her cock hits your prostate repeatedly, sending shockwaves through your body over and over. Her nails dig into your waist for a hold. She wants her bitch boy to take in her hardness fully. You can hear her ragged breathing from all of that plowing into your tight ass. She fucking loves this.

Sweat runs down from your forehead, mixing with your drool on the bedsheets. It’s merely an inconvenience to have dirty laundry for those poor staff to take care of. Everybody knows this, they just don’t dare to intervene. Gaeul and Wonyoung always do this. They love the complete domination of men who are willing to be their bitch boys. Either it would be draining them dry, or penetrate their rear hole into oblivion. Having men scream ‘daddy’ for them is like a drug for these two.

“You love this, huh?” asks Gaeul, sternly.

You can only sheepishly nod, with your mouth stuffed by Wonyoung’s phallus. The pleasure from this is unreal, having two naked women plowing your two holes for fun. You love to submit to them. You love having your prostate stimulated. It’s so fucking ecstatic.

The story of how you three met is never a secret: you’re a Starship Entertainment employee, they’re also Starship Entertainment employees. You happen to have a cute face, slutty waist, and nice ass (all are their words). With proximity and all, it's a perfect recipe for a rendezvous within IVE’s dorm. Jiwon and Yujin aren’t going to complain. They wear earmuffs every night.

“Do you think Rei would like him, Gaeul?” Wonyoung asks, hips rolling back and forth to push her cock in and out of your mouth. Her hands grip onto your head tightly, not wanting to lose her hole.

“I think she’s more of a vanilla type,” Gaeul answers. Her nails are still latching onto your wide hips tightly. “You know, cock in cunt, missionary type. She probably wouldn’t enjoy plowing his ass like this, right?”

Wonyoung lets out a short exhale, amused by her friend’s choice of accenting specific words. Her cock is still ravaging your mouth relentlessly. She’s revelling in fucking your throat, judging from the sadistic smile on her face. It’s predatory, and you’re the willing prey for her.

Suddenly, Gaeul presses you into lying on your stomach. Your mouth is dragged off Wonyoung’s cock temporarily.

“Hey, I was fucking his mouth!”

“I’ll fucking make him cum. Watch me.”

Gaeul strokes become even more violent. You can hear her deep moans from behind. Your moans grow even higher as she plows your ass with unbridled aggression.

“Ugh, let me have this, Gaeul.”

“Just fucking lift his chin up. I’m sure he’ll follow you, right, bitch boy?” Gaeul asks.

“Y–Yes–ngh, d–daddy,” you reply.

Wonyoung lets out a deep sigh, before grabbing your chin, making a short eye contact with you. You have to admit that you’re a bit lost in her eyes as she does so. Your eyes roam over her bare body for a split-second before she forces her drool-smeared cock into your dirty mouth. Your holes are filled again. Your breaths are stolen.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Gaeul says.

“Just–Just fuck his ass, Gaeul.”

Again, you’re revelling in the way you’re being used like this. Your ass is being spread open by Gaeul’s throbbing length without any care. You feel the ridges of her cock grazing your inner walls, eliciting wails and wails out of you onto Wonyoung’s hardness. Your cock twitches between the mattress and your stomach. You can feel the pain jolting through your waist, but it’s like you’d care right now. 

Your mouth is being forced open by Wonyoung’s cock, ravaging the hole with unbridled roughness. You see her pert breasts heaving with each rolling of her hips. God, you’re so happy being used and abused by two women.

Gaeul grabs your throat, robbing the already-scarce air from you. You can barely breathe, and you’re so damn ecstatic about it. The sensations within your walls only grow. You can feel your orgasm coming in close. It’s there. It’s there.

“D–Daddy,” you say, muffled into Wonyoung’s cock.

“What, gonna cum, slut?” Wonyoung asks, plunging her length into your mouth even faster.

You can only nod, not having any energy to say a thing, only moans and whimpers.

“Should we let him cum, Gaeul?”

Gaeul chuckles, still plowing her cock into your tightness with unmatched violence. “Sure, if you want, Wonyoung.”

“Cum then, bitch boy, cum for us.”

You give in. Cum leaks out of your cock through the slit onto the bedsheets, all while still having your holes filled by the two women. Your body shakes and writhes erratically. Your eyes flutter in rapture. You’re struggling to grip on any purchase on the bed. Gaeul slows down, finally, so does Wonyoung, before they’d pull their lengths out of your abused holes. Your frame shrieks again in sensitivity.

“D–Daddy,” you moan out. “That felt so good, daddy.”

You hear Gaeul chuckle from behind as Wonyoung smiles. “Alright, bitch boy, let’s go to the shower. Perhaps you might be sucking my cock instead while Wonyoung, well, spread that cute ass of yours open.”

“Y–Yes, daddy.”

—

[andhumanslovedstories]

Funny thing just happened at the Friendsgiving I was just at. My friend who is also in danmei hell mentioned Scum Villain fic, and I was like, “oh I’m actually writing one at the moment.” So per their request, I sent them the link, and it turns they were already reading this fic. Like, they had read it within the last 24 hours.

Always bizarre to know real people read my writing. Not bad! It feels very nice actually. Putting stuff online can often feel so abstract and for an often friendly and also faceless audience (hi). Then something happens, and you get reminded that any audience is made up of individual people who exist outside the internet. I’ve gotten the same feeling when I run into someone irl who recognizes my blog. On those very rare occasions, I am so deeply flattered and also blindsided that my higher cognitive functions shut down.

The reverse happened to me last year where I went to a book signing with Shelley Parker-Chan. There was a Q&A, so they’re twenty feet away from me, answering questions about She Who Became the Sun, a novel I absolutely adored reading. And I’m like, that’s just a person. Everything I love and admire were made by people who are just people. There isn’t this clear delineation between me and the people I respect.

I struggle with this idea that I have to become a different version of myself before I can do what I want to do. It becomes a paradoxical nightmare. Authors write novels, and since I haven’t written a novel, I can’t be an Author, and if I’m not an Author, I can’t write a novel. It’s good for me to be periodically confronted by proof that this is complete bullshit. You do the things you want to do to become the person you want to become, and that person is not a dramatic transformation from your current self. It’s just you, having done the thing you want to do and all the work it took to do it.

And at that book signing, for the first time in months, maybe years, I really really really wanted to write. I wanted to write a novel I was proud of and present it for other people to read. I wanted to be on a small stage answering questions about a book I wrote that someone else adores. I hadn’t realized that I thought doing that was impossible until I realized that actually it was attainable. Everything’s just people, all the way down.

[yearling-234]

(It has been a hot minute sense I posted art on tumblr)

Ok this is the result of watching Anastasia (1997) with one of my friends, and me being literally obsessed with sonadow at the same time.

I don’t think I can truly articulate how much I love sonadow in this post alone. But I hope the amount of effort I put into this speaks for itself. If you wanna read a yap session about the au (and my art in general) then read below.

1. The reason that shadow is Anastasia is because of his amnesia arc (and bc shadow is a pretty princess idc)

2. The reason why Maria is alive and not Gerald or something is because shadow and Maria were (probably) much closer. (And because I feel We should give Maria a break from getting shot all the time)

And 3. I really want to do something like this again (I already have some ideas) though all the rendering I’ve done is for this is becomes intimidating when i think about doing it again. But I’m willing.

(Also I’m not the best at rendering, but I want to get better. Usually it’s just Line art and sometimes shading, but I wanna get better at completing projects so I hope to try this again)

[therealcocoshady]

Love Game - Part 3

A/N : After MONTHS of waiting… here is Love Game pt3 ! For those of you who weren’t there, you can find the first 2 chapters in the Masterlist (pinned post on my blog !).

If it weren’t for Denaun and his wisdom, you would have told Marshall to go to hell. Or rather, you would have sent him there yourself. After all, you weren’t exactly short on ideas how to kill him. You went over them in great detail as you vented to Denaun about his friend’s audacity. This lack of trust and complete disregard for the friendship you’d shared was enough for you to consider raising that baby on your own, but your best friend advised you against it. « We both know you’d come to regret your decision, Y/N » he said calmly over dinner, trying to level with you. You looked at him, crossing your arms, frankly pissed that he was siding with Marshall. « Oh, so you think it’s ok that he called me a slut?! Me, the mother of his child ?!» you asked with a glare. Denaun shook his head again, not backing down. « I’m not saying it’s ok. What I’m saying is : you’re a great mom and you want what’s best for this baby. And you do want them to know their father, don’t you? ». His tone was extremely calm, and he was annoyingly good at making valid points that didn’t go your way. « Well, if he thinks I’m such a whore, I don’t see why he would want to co-parent anyway » you mumbled.

It was clear that you were hurt, and that the few weeks that had passed since the confrontation hadn’t done anything to soften the blow. Denaun seemed to understand it, as he took your hand and looked not your eyes. « You have every reason to be mad. Hell, if you need me to say it out loud, I will : he’s an asshole. But you know as much as I do that, once he has proof that you’re carrying his baby, he will be a good father for this child. And your little one deserves to grow up, knowing who their dad is. It’s all about the baby». You looked down and nodded. As much as you wanted to make a point and prove that, if need be, you’d be an excellent single mom. But ultimately, he was right : it wasn’t about you. It was about the little one. You grabbed his hand and gave him a smile, full of gratitude. « Thank you, Nauny. I don’t know about the dad, but the baby is very lucky to have you as an uncle ». He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and looked into your eyes with the utmost seriousness. « I’ll always be there for you, Y/N. Both of you ».

You weren’t sure whether it was the hormones or just a regular emotional reaction to his kindness, but you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes. « I don’t know what I would do without you, Nauny » you sighed. « You know… Sometimes, I wish you were the father ». He stared at you, staying silent for a couple of seconds. « Yeah, well… I’m not the one you took home that night » he sighed. You nodded, rolling your eyes. « That’ll teach me. No more fucking around with friends » you hummed before taking another bite of your burger, rather oblivious to the look of despair on your friend’s face.

A week later, the results came in : as predicted, the baby was, indeed, Marshall’s. To be fair, you had absolutely no doubt whatsoever regarding the matter. If they’d been any different, you would have been quick to fly to the Vatican and ask for an audience with the Pope so that your name was officially added to the Bible. You weren’t exactly fond of the idea of talking to Marshall directly so you arranged for the results to be sent to him in the mail, not even bothering with a letter or note. After all, the results spoke for themselves and all that was left was for him to eat his words. That same day, he called you and, though you debated for a quick second, you ended up taking the call. « Hey. It’s me. I, um…. I got the results » he said. « Right » you said in a tone that was as neutral as you could muster. « Are you… Are you free on Friday? We should talk. » he hummed rather awkwardly. « There’s nothing special to say for now, Marshall » you replied. « That baby isn’t due for another 22 weeks. Somehow, I don’t think there’s much for you to do, right now». You heard him let out a loud sigh on the other end of the line, and you could tell he was trying really hard not to go off on you. « We’re going to be parents. Both of us. Together. I think it’s actually important that we have a talk. So that we can… Prepare » he explained. You stayed silent for a couple of seconds, debating whether or not you were in the mood to do the right thing. But ultimately, the rational part of you brain, in which Denaun’s words were still echoing, ended up winning. « As you wish. My place. Friday. 6PM. Don’t be late ».

When Friday came around, you were thankful that Denaun had agreed to be with you. Somehow, you figured that the mention of you murdering Marshall was what convinced him, rather than the excuse of you needing emotional support. You knew your friend wasn’t keen on being caught in the middle of you and your baby daddy but, as much as you wished there was a way you could spare him, he was the person closest to you, the only one you confided in. When Marshall walked into your apartment and saw Denaun, he immediately froze. As far as you knew, they were on good terms, but he clearly wasn’t expecting him there. He quickly dapped him and looked at you with a confused frown. « You asked him here? » he asked in disbelief. You had promised Denaun that you’d be on your best behavior but you couldn’t help but clap back. « Well, unlike some people, Denaun has been here from the start. I trust him when it comes to the important decisions » you replied coldly. You could see Denaun stare at you disapprovingly, silently telling you off. Marshall sighed and shrugged. « Well, since we’re getting straight to the point… I have paperwork for us to go over » he said.

Your eyes opened a little wider. Paperwork. Seriously ? You gestured for him to sit on the couch and waited, as he handed you a small stack of paper. The first form was a non-disclosure agreement. As soon as you saw the title, you handed it back to him, absolutely refusing to have anything to do with it. « First you doubt my honesty and now what ? You decide to keep the baby a secret ?! » you exclaimed before turning to Denaun. « I gave it a try, Nauny. I really did. But if you think I’m going to-» you began yelling before Marshall interrupted you. « Will you just shut up and fucking read before you start screaming? » he asked in exasperation before continuing. « It’s not about keeping the baby a secret. I mean, of course, I want them to have privacy but I’m not going to hide the fact that they’re mine ! Who do you think I am ? Drake ?! It’s just standard procedure, so that nothing about our relationship as co-parents ends up in the media. My lawyers insisted ». You glared at him and took another look at the NDA. « Of course. You questioned my honesty in the first place. Why wouldn’t you think I’m after money ? » you scoffed. He stared at you in silence and rolled his eyes. « Again. Lawyers. Not me. Not that you care » he sighed, before glancing at Denaun. « I don’t know how or even why you put up with her. She’s fucking crazy » he mumbled. Your friend crossed his arms and looked at the two of you. « Stop. Both of you. You’re acting like children. You’re grown-ass adults, about to have a kid together, have some shame ! Marshall, you better show Y/N some respect. She’s carrying your baby ! And you, Y/N, you need to stop painting him as a villain. You guys obviously liked each other enough to mess around in the first place. So how about you show some of that appreciation when it comes to dealing with the consequences ?! » he thundered.

Both you and Marshall stared at him in silence, obviously not used to any outburst coming from Denaun. You stared down, while Marshall glanced sideways. « Now, I’m going to let you handle this as grownups and future parents. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. And I better not hear any yelling » he threatened before leaving the room. The silence remained for a couple of minutes, before Marshall let out a sigh. « Look, it’s just… I told Paul about the baby, alright ? And he figured that paperwork might help figure out things. If it’s any comfort, it also states I’m not allowed to slander you or mention you in any track. And the rest… it’s just formalities. Like ensuring my name is on the birth certificate, making sure I have a legal right to see the baby, and that I give you child support » he calmly explained. You looked at him and nodded. « Alright » you said as you started to peruse the forms. « Denaun’s right, you know ? We need to act like… adults » he hummed, to which you nodded. « I know. It’s just not easy when the other co-parent pisses you off » you quietly replied. « But I suppose we’ll need to get used to it ». He let out a chuckle and leaned back in the couch as you read the forms. « Yeah, I guess ». When you finished going through the paperwork, you looked at him and sighed. « So… that’s what you wanted to do ? Paperwork? » you asked. « Mostly. I also wanted to know how you were doing. If the baby’s ok, or if you need something » he said. You hummed quietly, wondering if it your interactions would always have the same clinical and official undertone from now on. « Let’s see… Still nauseous but it’s definitely better. Craving for Italian, lately, if that’s of any interest. And, um… I have another ultrasound coming up. Other than that, that’s pretty much it » you reviewed. He thoughtfully nodded, as if he were making some mental note, though you weren’t too sure how that might concern him directly.

You made small talk for a bit and ended up calling Denaun back to the living room. As he walked in, he stared at both you and Marshall with a stern look on his face, much like a parent willing to make sure their kids had behaved as directed. « Everything alright? » he asked in an inquisitive tone. Both of you glanced at each other and nodded. « Yeah we’re good », Marshall assured him. « I should probably get going. Do you want to come by the studio later ? I’ve got beats ». Your friend looked at you and scratched the back of his head. « I would have loved to, man, but we made reservations for that Italian place Y/N is obsessed with, these days » he replied apologetically. Marshall paused for a second and hummed. « Right. Well… see you around, Y/N. And uh… you’ll call me if you need anything, right? ». You nodded and gave him a tentative smile. « I mean, sure. But unless you’re willing to hold my hair when I puke, I don’t think there’s much for you to do, you know? » you replied. He stared at you intently, his eyes going from your face to your belly, and shrugged. « Well, yeah, but… I don’t know. Like… if you have updates ? » he asked awkwardly.

The whole thing seemed haphazard. If a stranger were to walk in the room, they wouldn’t have been able to tell you and Marshall had ever been so… intimate. In that moment, it felt like you were two strangers learning to communicate. You but your lip, the realization being rather painful. After all, before all of this, he had been one of your favorite people on earth. Why he had turned his back on you this way, you weren’t too sure… but now, you didn’t have much choice, and you needed to do your best to mend things. Even though it felt like you weren’t at fault. You gave him a smile before grabbing an envelope from your handbag. « I don’t know if you… uh… I can show you the latest ultrasound if you’d like? » you offered. At your words, his eyes opened a little wider and he blinked even faster than usual. « Yeah. Ok. » he nodded. He got closer and you showed him the closest thing you had to a picture of your baby. You tentatively pointed the shadows on it. « So, here, there’s the head. And over there, that’s an arm » you explained. He seemed kind of fascinated by it, much to your surprise. « That’s really crazy » he whispered. You could see a smile form on Denaun’s face as he encouraged you, while Marshall was focused on the picture. « Do you want to keep it? » you offered. « Can I? » Marshall asked. « Yeah, sure. I have copies ». He grabbed the picture from your hand and carefully placed it in his pocket, before staring at you. « Thanks, Y/N » he said in a solemn tone. He leaned forward and, for a second, you almost thought he was going to hug you or kiss your cheek. But instead, he patted your shoulder in a way that made you wonder if he had actually ever interacted with a human being before. You even noticed Denaun raising an eyebrow. He went to dap Denaun and, before he left, you had to ask an important question.

« Uh, Marshall ? » you called as he stepped in the hallway. « Yeah? » he asked. « You… you said you were going to legally acknowledge the baby as yours, right? » you questioned nervously, to which he nodded, as if the answer was evident. « I mean, yeah. I think it’s what’s best » he replied, visibly wondering where this was getting. You thoughtfully hummed and bit your lip. « So…don’t you think we should tell the other guys in the group as well? ».

[lucozaynkisses]

A guide to being the local fashion icon 🐆

1. THRIFT THRIFT THRIFT!

I am someone who lives for unique clothing. My biggest tip ever for anyone who wants to stand out and be more fashionable is to start thrifting. Not only is it beyond fun this is a place where you can get pieces no one else has for CHEAP. nothing feels better than finding ur dream clothing piece at a thrift store. And you can get high quality clothing for way cheaper than a new poor quality item you get online. I’ve thrifted since forever so I might post thrifting tips soon.

2. Do a closet cleanout

It is so important to get rid of clothes you won’t wear anymore. I struggle with this and found myself keeping clothes as “backup” so much that I ended up with filled to the brim drawers full of clothes I find extremely ugly or that I just didn’t ever wear anymore. And this caused me to forget the nice clothes I have and only wear the same outfits all the time because I couldn’t find my other clothes. So GET RID OF CLOTHES!

3. Find your staples

My staples include black boots, leather jackets, denim jackets, and a few good pairs of jeans. Now this can be completely different for you. You need to figure out what the items are most needed for the outfits that go with your style.

4. Avoid shopping on SHEIN

Hear me out. I used to be a shein addict and I know how addictive it can be to buy cute clothes for cheap. But I just don’t find it worth it at all anymore. And I don’t even own any of the hundreds of clothes I bought on Shein anymore because the ones I wore often got ugly crazy fast. I hate to be the one to say it but you can almost always tell when a clothing piece is from shein. Now you do you, but if we’re talking about being that it girl, the one who always looks so cool and stylish and somehow nobody does it like her, buying quality clothing is key. Trust me you can find a better option at the thrift for almost anything you’re buying from shein. Shein also mostly sells clothes that will go out style in a few months.

5. don’t put yourself in a box

Create your style without trapping yourself in an aesthetic. The beauty of fashion is you can always try new things and be creative and express yourself through it. Don’t be afraid to try new things. Wear something a little different every now and then if you feel like it. You don’t need to dress a specific way all the time.

6. Find inspiration

One thing I like to do is to write down the people whose style I like so that I can get inspiration from them and see what I can take away from their fashion choices. Another thing I do is making a Pinterest board for every season every year that way I can look at it when I want ideas.

7. Shop with a goal in mind

A lot of the times we end up buying things we barely wear because we bought it just for the sake of buying something. I like to keep a list of things I really want t and look for those specific things when I’m shopping to avoid buying things I don’t actually want.

8. Add a bit of color to your outfits

Look, I am someone who literally only ever wears neutral colors. But the times I choose to add a bit of color to my outfits it upgrades them so much. I mostly do this with red because it’s pretty much the only bold color I don’t despise. But a bolder color can really make ur outfits stand out so much more. This works best if it’s only 1 specific part of ur look.

9. Accessorize

I know we hear this all the time but accessories really brings an outfit together. You can have the most basic outfit, but if you add some jewelry, a bag, and a pair of sunglasses it suddenly looks not basic at all. Or maybe you add a cute belt. Accessorizing is key to spicing up your outfits.

10. Find a makeup that fits you

Recently I’ve been loving a 90’s makeup look. I think finding a makeup style that suits you changes everything. I don’t feel complete if I’m not wearing some lip combo. So try out different makeup styles and see what you like best.

11. Have one interesting factor in ur outfit

Having one thing that stands out from the rest of ur outfit makes it so much more unique. This can be anything from a pattern, to a texture, to a color etc. having only ONE is important because it makes your outfit interesting but keeps it from looking messy.

Hope this helps u become a fashion diva 🫶🏼🙂‍↔️

Xo, Ary 💋

[coffeefiction]

Megatron's "Not So Interesting' Life

So, I have this thought of an au for a while, where the war never happened but the world is littered with anomalies, entities and all that jazz, right? And Megatron, is just a normal mech, with a normal life, being friends with "normal" people and finding their newly crowned Prime off. Oh! He also gets these cool abilities that I have yet to properly set down-

If you have any ideas on what I should do with this story! Or questions! Let me know! Have fun!

_______________________

Megatron knows that he special he has always  known this. How could he not? From a young age, he could instinctively distinguish between a walking glitch of a fake and an actual mecha. It was as if his optics had been calibrated to detect the unseen threads of the universe. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, and he always had the gnawing sense that something lurked just beyond his peripheral awareness. Not that he cared. In fact, he barely gave it a second thought.

Megatron has always known that he has abilities, that he has a gift. He knew this. He could see what others couldn’t. Yet, for the longest time, he refused to acknowledge it, treating it as little more than an inconvenient quirk. That was, until he befriended a few of those shadowy entities that liked to pass themselves off as part of the mortal world. He never really minded—they weren’t doing him any harm, again, he barely cared.

They are attracted to Megatron's gift, I mean, who wouldn't? Having the ability to sniff out someone's bull is pretty helpful.

You see, Megatron grew up in Kaon, and growing up in Kaon, which was and is a place dripping with superstition, Megatron had heard his share of horror stories: the dark, Unicron’s spawns, Primus’ Youngs, and the whispers of what prowled in the shadows. These tales were used to scare younglings into good behavior.

Megatron himself had his fair share of those stories, although, some of the elders do love to exaggerate those stories.

He likes it, not because it makes it creepy. He didn’t find them scary—he found them funny, mostly because of his friends. For reasons he still couldn’t quite fathom, his closest companions growing up were a spark eater, a ghoul, and a demon. Hearing their outrage over the inaccuracies in these tales was endlessly entertaining.

“You can’t eat a spark like that,” Starscream, the spark eater, would hiss in annoyance whenever he hears these ridiculous stories  . “Why do they always describe it like I’m slurping energon soup? There’s nuance!”

“Ghouls: do not hide under berths: waiting to snatch younglings” deadpanned Soundwave, the ghoul, glaring at Megatron. “Soundwave: not a sterotype: Stories; exaggerated”

And Shockwave, the demon of the group would just simply twitch in annoyance.

And unlike Iacon, who rarely has anything to do with superstitions and such beliefs were dismissed as primitive nonsense. (or as media likes to portray it). Kaon has plenty, it thrived on superstition, unlike Iacon,  If Kaon had a museum for the supernatural, it would probably need its own skyscraper.

Megatron can attest to it, as stated before, he is friends with some of the horrifying entities that the tales always tell. Not only that, He’d had his share of encounters with those dark forces, not all of them pleasant. Most of the time, it ended in one of three ways: a fight, a frantic escape, or an unsettling brush with death. The only reason Megatron was still functioning was thanks to his friends, who often bailed him out of tight spots to save his arf.

Yet despite all of this, Megatron barely cares.

He doesn't do much, than work at his boring office job, visit his friends and reassure them that he is well, one of the literally lives in Vos! But at least his trip is always payed, courtesy to his friend. Outside of that? His life is completely barren and uneventful.

That is, until he met the new Prime that goes by the name Optimus Prime. Not, met met him, more like saw him in the holos and the streets during the coronation parade. He didn't wanna be there to be honest, but Starscream wanted to be there, he was in town for royal duties as the Prince of Vos and he wanted to Megatron to hang out with him, that isn't the mech's lonely apartment or Soundwave's house, or Shockwave's lab.

And Megatron, is a friend, so Megatron decided to go with Starscream, begrudgingly of course. 

When Megatron first laid his optics on the New Prime, he immediately sensed something was off, and he can tell that Starscream noticed too, yet he seem calm, which was odd. Normally, Starscream would have been on high alert, his predatory instincts kicking in. But this time? He wasn’t reacting defensively. That wasn’t exactly a good sign, isn't a bad one either.

Spark eaters tend to have heightened senses, they have the ability to sniff out their pray, and they have the ability to semi manipulate the perception of others, making it easy for them to blend in. If Starscream wasn’t threatened, that meant whatever this “off” thing was, it wasn’t something Starscream recognized as dangerous—or perhaps it was something he couldn’t categorize at all.

Megatron looks at the Prime, observing him closely. Their newly crowned Prime seems nice, he speaks very confidently yet softly, a leader with stern yet does not weild his fist to cage those around him. He spoke to the crowd with warmth, crouched to address younglings optic-to-optic, and carried himself with an air of calm authority.

Megatron….he knows there is something wrong, something off with the Prime. Megatron could feel it, like static in his circuits. He wanted to dig deeper, to pull at the threads of this mystery. But before he could, Starscream interrupted.

Megatron has to put those thoughts into a file and store it for later to entertain his friend. A bored Starscream always never ends well.

Soundwave can attest to that.

So Megatron talks to Starscream as they watch the parade from the distance in the balcony of Starscream's  fancy hotel. They watch as the Prime mingle with the civilian, as he interacts with the younglings with such care.

“Ugh. Look at that pompous mech!” Starscream sneered, slumping dramatically in his chair.

Megatron arched an optic ridge. “What are you talking about? He seems fine.”

“Fine? Look at him, so pristine, so proper!” Starscream gestured wildly at the balcony railing. “He’s too sweet. It’s disgusting. He’s practically dripping syrup on those younglings!” 

"Shouldn't I be the one making complaints here? I'm the one who's gonna get affected if his rule is slag" Megatron quipped dryly, already dreading the new rules and laws that will be set if this Prime is like the other ones before him.

“Oh, please.” Starscream waved him off. “If it were up to you, you’d just brood in silence and not say a word.”

“I would, actually,” Megatron muttered. “Besides, you’re the one verbally attacking your own kind right now.” He pointed out, wanting to immediately change the topic, for all that is stands in this world, Starscream is right, he would probably just brood in silence, rules kept him safe after all.

Starscream makes a disgruntled noise. "That thing down there, is far from being my kin."

Megatron grows confuse, he looks at Starscream. "What do you mean?"

“My own kind?” Starscream’s wings twitched irritably as he leaned back in his chair. “That thing down there is not my kin.”

That got Megatron’s attention. He turned to Starscream, optics narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Starscream huffed, clearly annoyed he had to explain. “Look at him! He’s too…off. Too stiff to be a spark eater, too mellow to be a ghoul. His frame doesn’t match anything I recognize. And his voice?” Starscream shuddered theatrically. “It’s wrong. It’s too nice. No one’s voice is that…perfect.”

Megatron frowned, glancing back at the Prime. Now that Starscream mentioned it, he can see more of the odd things about him. The balance of his movements, the precision of his words, the faint flicker of something beneath the surface—it didn’t quite add up.

Huh… Yeah, he can kinda see that now.

[aerinfrankellove]

2024-25 Season Prediction Survey Results

Read below or read a better formatted version here

The second PWHL season looms heavy on the horizon, and with preseason camps underway, the prospect of change, a new season with new storylines and new team names and logos and new players, haunts us all. We may not all be sports experts, but after watching the first season for months and eagerly awaiting the second, we all have our own ideas of how season two might go. Whether they’re logical ideas or not will be seen upon the future, but I, lover of data and spreadsheets, decided to gather up all your opinions and predictions of how season two will go, from the biggest honor (The Walter Cup) to random questions regarding trades and penalty minutes

Team Predictions -

This was the easy part of the form. Minimal prior knowledge, you didn’t even need to know the team names because I put them all in as multiple choice questions. Hypothetically everyone could have just picked randomly and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. That being said, some interesting trends emerged from you folks, some predictable and some less so.

Walter Cup Winners: Boston Fleet or Montreal Victoire (35.3%)

This was probably one of the closest races beneath the team with only about a single vote difference between Boston winning it all and Montreal winning it all at any one time. As an entirely unbiased Boston fan and casual Montreal enjoyer, I think this prediction is definitely founded in something. Montreal and Boston project to be two of the stronger teams, but I also think I’m biased if only because of how many Montreal and Boston fans I see in comparison to other teams. With all that being said, I’d be disappointed but not surprised if some other less represented team (Seriously does no one believe New York can win? Even Ottawa got a single vote and y’all really hated Ottawa) wins it going away after a hot season. But as my father always says, that’s why we play the game and this game/series in particular is quite a far ways away.

Walter Cup Runner Ups: Montreal Victoire (35.3%)

Honestly, I was expecting pretty similar results for this question as the question above, after all if the general consensus is that one of those two teams will win the cup, then one of them would have to lose it, right? Well Montreal was right up there, but unexpectedly Toronto came in second with 24% of people having enough faith in Toronto getting to the finals and then very little faith in them actually winning it, girlfailures that they are. Montreal tied with them to get second in the cup, followed by Boston (please god don’t let it come to that I don’t think my heart could take two years in a row) and then the mish mash of the Sirens, Frost, and Charge. 

First in the standings: Toronto Sceptres (32.4%)

So Montreal was leading this right up until I was actually writing and then I had to completely change my paragraph mid writing which was so much fun and definitely not irritating at all, but Toronto overtook Montreal for first, aiming for that repeat first in the standings and dare I be speaking sacrilege against the Victoire (who I do like more than the Sceptres) I honestly think they have a better chance. Like a 45% chance vs. a 40% chance. Boston carried up third place in voting and as much as I love the Fleet I think lots of things would have to go right for that to happen (another stunning season by Frankel, more consistent offense, an actual power play, so on and so forth). 

Additionally, as much as I hate to say it, I think we’re seriously underselling Minnesota, just because they made some inadvisable choices during the off season doesn’t mean they still aren’t largely the team who won the Walter cup and has theoretically gotten better during the offseason. Then again, I’d be as happy as anyone to see them crash and burn a little bit so it’s all speculatory. New York got a grand total of two votes but I’m secretly rooting for them to surprise some people. Ottawa got none, but we can cover that in the next section.

Last in the standings: Ottawa Charge (52.9%)

Guys. Guys, really? Ottawa fans, I am begging you, come represent your team because this is embarrassing. Like I don’t know much about what Ottawa’s been up to other than rebuilding the Czech National Team (shout out to Carla Macleod I am manifesting you knowing what you are doing). Like they weren’t bad last year, they were second in goals for, and they did lose a bit but they had tons of overtime losses which means they were in the games. Hell, they were very nearly in the playoffs, they were in the same category as Minnesota and Boston, the two finalist teams! Apparently my unpopular opinion is that Ottawa isn’t going to suck (They hopefully have two solid goalies now so Masch won’t be overworked, they signed some good players, I feel like I’m going crazy.) Otherwise, there’s not much notable in this section other than some doubt about the Sirens and the Frost (lord let it be the Frost /j) but shoutout to the one person truly going against the grain and saying that Montreal is gonna get dead last, I applaud your bravery.

The Four Playoff Teams:

This question was a little less straightforward so we’re gonna split it into three sections. The (Predicted) Shoe-ins, The Contenders, and Ottawa.

The (Predicted) Shoe-ins - 

The Sceptres, the Victoire, and the Fleet all had about 30 votes with nearly 90% of respondents selecting them each as one of the potential playoff teams. This fits pretty well with the previous votes of the Walter Cup winners and runner ups, so I wasn’t too surprised at any of these. All of these teams should have a decent shot at the playoffs and my own mostly unfounded misgivings about the Sceptres aside, this is all pretty reasonable and I largely think there’s a good chance that this is how it goes..

The Contenders - 

The Frost and the Sirens were pretty evenly matched, about half of y’all voted that they’d be one of four playoff teams and I generally agree that they both have a pretty good shot at the playoffs so there isn’t much to talk about here. I’d personally be more excited for the Sirens to make a run at the playoffs, I think they have a chance to be good after last season and hopefully put some things together over the summer, but we shall see.

Ottawa - 

You know I already wrote a whole ramble about this and since then Ottawa beat Boston 6-1 in the preseason and I think they heard how little faith you guys had in them and decided to take it out on my team. That’s all I’m gonna say on that.

The Trade Predictions:

These answers were definitely a bit less clear cut due to the nature of the question, after all it’s a lot easier to say who you think will be good than try and get into the head of GMs and coaches, but a few trends emerged nonetheless. The Frost, the Sirens, and the Charge all got 19 or 20 apiece and I think it makes a bit of sense. After all the Sirens and the Charge seemingly stand the most to gain through trade having missed the playoffs, and from later responses those who voted Minnesota were manifesting a Britta Curl trade which I’ll refrain from judging at the moment. I will say I’m a bit surprised that less people voted for Boston, after all unless my memory is entirely wrong they had the most trades over the course of last season and seem to hold very few qualms about it.

0.500+ Winning Percentage: Montreal Victoire (84.8%)

Guys, I respect this take, I’m 90% sure this was one of my votes for an above .500 team as well, but may I speak a little bit of heresy against the Victoire? Like they’re gonna be good, I don’t have doubt in that, but I don’t know if they’re gonna be that decisively good. They’re a bit injured which could lead to a rocky start and do we all still remember how much they relied on those top few players especially in the playoffs? I’m pretty sure in the Boston series their fourth line may have gotten less than ten minutes overall which I’m not an expert on hockey but isn’t a whole thing about balancing ice time and having solid lines all the way through so your stars aren’t having absurdly long nights (shout out to Erin Ambrose you deserve a gun)?

Otherwise this follows the general trends of the playoffs with a bit more faith in the Frost than in the Sirens, a reasonable amount for the Fleet and Sceptres, and absolutely none in Ottawa which I think we’ll all come to regret but I’ve said my piece about that already so I won’t beat a dead horse into the ground.

Higher Goals For than Goals Against: Toronto Sceptres (68.8%)

This risks getting into actual smart people hockey stuff that I am by no means an expert in, so I won’t spend too long other than to just share the results. Toronto and Montreal are the only two teams with a confidence rate of over 50%, followed by Boston, Minnesota, New York, and Ottawa. I think it’s interesting to think about potential offensive numbers but really can’t speak much to how accurate these have the chance of being because my main reaction is “huh yeah that’s a statistic people can make predictions on”

Player Predictions -

This definitely was a lot less definitive on almost all fronts, and I joked while advertising this that you could just type in MPP for all the answers and get half of them right, which seems to be the approach that some of you took. It’s fair, but expect a lot of repetition looking at these charts due to that because she is just that pervasive. I’ll try to mention as many players you guys picked as possible but you might have to look at the charts because I am neither an expert in all players nor a good enough writer to say anything other than “Yeah that’s certainly a player”

Above 1.00 points per game played: Marie Philip-Poulin (13 votes)

And here is the start to our MPP sweep, starting strong off the bat, about half of the 26 answers to this question included her which makes sense. She was second only to Natalie Spooner last season, with 1.1 pt/g and unless something weird happens I see no reason to suspect otherwise from her. I honestly didn’t expect as many other players to be suggested, after all it was only Natalie Spooner and Marie Philip-Poulin which makes sense, it’s an impressive statistic, but everyone seemed to have their favorites. Sarah Nurse was one player who hasn’t really been on my radar but you guys seem to like her, for this question and a bunch of other ones. I personally am partial to a Hilary Knight comeback season from this list but would be interested to see anyone make that jump.

In the Top Ten Points Getters: Marie Philip-Poulin (15 votes)

Everyone raise their hands if they’re surprised MPP won this in a landslide, oh wait literally no one is surprised I could have told you this when it was literally only my vote on the board. You’ll learn very quickly that oftentime the runaway winner of these simple questions aren’t really the interesting ones, it’s everyone else that got nominated that you can really dig into. Everyone who got top 10 last year, 18-27 points was up here in this list except Brianne Jenner and Katerina Mrazova which I’m chalking up to you guy’s Ottawa hate. Shoutout to Tobi and the one other person who voted for Gabbie Hughes and also Ronja Savolainen, you are the real ones rooting for the Charge.

Also I don’t know if it’s because with Natalie Spooner just kind of ruled the world coming out of Toronto I was completely blindsided by Sarah Nurse on most of these questions sorry Nursey I forgot you existed a little bit hopefully the Toronto girlies don’t tear me apart for that one.

PIMPG Over 1.00 Minutes: Abby Roque (16 votes)

The certainty of the questions ticks up by one for the next few and as much as everyone believed in MPP being awesome overall, one more person believed in Abby Roque being a criminal on skates and/or overly penalized, I didn’t leave room for that distinction. Tereza Vanišová earned the dubious distinction of second place but only with 6 votes and Emma Maltais earned third with a measly 3. Not a ton of Rookie representation here but I’ll be interested to see if any of this draft class take up this mantle. Also shoutout to the two people who voted Kaleigh Fratkin despite her not playing that’s so real and valid of you.

Save Percentage Over 0.920: Aerin Frankel (17 votes)

With the most votes of any player for a single category, Aerin Frankel, The Green Monster, love of my life and the blockade of the Boston Fleet, absolutely swept this category. I might have been thinking this in my head, but it’s good to see my Frankel love reaffirmed for the upcoming season because she deserves it all. And maybe a gun if Boston decides to have a few repeat performances from last year (cough two fifty+ save games in a row cough). The goalie questions have an inherently smaller pool so there were fewer surprises because as a certified goalie lover I try to keep tabs on the situation in net across the league. I’m shocked ARD didn’t get as much of a nod here from Montreal fans but suppose the appeal of Montreal is dissimilar to Boston in that regard as you theoretically have a consistent offense.

20+ Games Started as a Goalie: Aerin Frankel (16 votes)

Honestly I’m surprised Maschmeyer didn’t run away with this question because if it’s who I’d like to see start 20 games and do wonderfully it’d definitely be Frankel but I think with the possible addition of Klara Peslarova Boston shouldn’t be overly reliant on her with Soderburg and potentially Peslarova to back her up. I suppose it might be overwhelming faith in Gwyneth Phillips to be a solid number 2 in Ottawa but she wasn’t that represented in other goalie questions so maybe it was just an oversight considering Masch had the most starts of any goalie in the league last year. More interestingly, I respect the one person who refrained from answering and basically said that there’s so much depth in the league that no goalie will get 20 out of 30 starts. I’m not sure if it’s accurate, but the depth is real so it’s possible.

Billie Jean King (MVP) Nominee: Marie-Philip Poulin (10 votes)

And now we’re officially back in MPP territory and I’m not gonna spend too much time breaking this down because yeah. If Poulin has a repeat performance from last season and Spooner’s out for a significant portion of the season on LTIR, it’s her award to lose. But let’s look at some of the people you think she has the chance to lose it to. Once again you guys are on the Sarah Nurse train and you know what I support. Seeing the team ratios, lots of Toronto, a smattering of everyone else, no Ottawa, is definitely interesting but I’m not nearly smart enough to make conclusions as to what that means so I’ll leave it up to you to decide. (Something something teams with depth might have less obvious candidates if they’re all kicking in?)

Forward of the Year Nominee: Marie-Philip Poulin (10 votes)

Wow. MPP for forward of the year, who possibly could have predicted this. Definitely not me. And yes, you all are probably right but that’s not interesting! That’s not fun and cool and interesting so let’s move on. More Sarah Nurse love in this house and I think I can confidently say there aren’t very many of you confident in a repeat performance from Spooner/think her injured status will prevent her from potentially making this list. It’s a bit more prominent but there’s definitely a big Daryl Watts faction of supporters and honestly I endorse this. I might not be a huge Toronto girlie but I always have a soft spot for players who move teams and she just seems like a very easy person to root for. I just hope she doesn’t do too well against Boston this Saturday <3

Defender of the Year Nominee: Ella Shelton and Erin Ambrose (7 votes)

See isn’t this fun, isn’t this interesting, a tie for first place and none of them are named Marie-Philip Poulin! (ignore the fact she isn’t eligible) Honestly, I think Ella Shelton and Erin Ambrose are the obvious but objectively correct candidates. They were both nominated and both deserving but I think Shelton was a little robbed, after all she was second in points for her team as a defender and fifth yes that’s right, fifth place for points overall. But alas Erin Ambrose is a titaness and also deserved the award so that’s not the point. The point is I think I’m slightly biased towards Shelton between our two winners. As our runners up, we’re really feeling that Sophie Jaques love and I might be anti-Minnesota but I can’t bring myself to be ant-Sophie Jaques. Of course I endorse Keller (Go Fleet!) and can’t say I know enough about the rest of these players defensively to speak definitively on their chances.

Goalie of the Year Nominee: Aerin Frankel (13 votes)

Peace and love on planet earth there’s not much to say that I didn’t already say in the save percentage or games started section so I won’t dawdle too much here other than to say that there was a little less variation of who you thought would be nominated versus who you thought would have a good season (starting 20+ times, high save percentage). You guys tend to stick with proven goalies, which makes sense and I can’t see any place I’d disagree other than to say I think that if Corinne Schroeder keeps up her save percentage (higher than Soupy last year) and New York lets her see less of a volume of shots (she saw about 31 per game as compared to Campbell’s 24) by actually playing defense, she could separate a bit from the other goalies in the league. I’m always rooting for Aerin Frankel and think she got robbed last year, so if she stays the Green Monster she was last season I think she has a really good chance.

Rookie of the Year Nominee: Sarah Fillier (12 votes)

This really reaffirmed for me that most of us have absolutely no clue anything about the depth of this rookie class. Of the nine players named, ⅔ of them were the first round of the draft, one of them isn’t even a rookie (Sorry Daryl Watts you won’t be getting this piece of hardware), and Curl and Daniel were second and third round picks respectively. Meanwhile over 20 rookie skaters got points in the preseason games alone and only Serdachny and Fillier from this list got more than 1 point. The rest of those seven players were all but forgotten. And I get it, preseason is preseason, but my prediction is we’ll have a few unexpected standouts who really break out in the league when no one really saw them coming. I don’t think Sarah Fillier will be snubbed with nominations, her preseason hatty proved that she’s coming out on all cylinders, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the other two are people not listed here. We shall see.

Significantly Better Year (Pt/G increased by at least 0.4): Hilary Knight (7 votes)

Listen, I might be biased as she is the Captain of the Fleet (which sounds so cool and I do need art of her in a pirate uniform immediately if not sooner) but I personally am rooting for a Hilary Knight revenge tour. I think we saw it at the rivalry series and in the single preseason game she graced the ice with her presence, but I think she’s the type of player who underperformed last season and is now prepared to rip the league a new one. This was definitely one of the more varied questions with most candidates getting 1 or 2 votes so I’ll let you make your own opinions though I will say a lot of you are on the Daryl Watts train and think she’ll find her footing in Toronto. My one note is I’m not sure if some of you got the question because there are some candidates here (Sarah Nurse most notably) who had great and/or good seasons (above 0.5 points per game) and going up by 0.4 or more would mean they’d become transcendent players on the same level as the Spooners and Poulins of last season. I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just saying there’s only so high players can go reasonably.

Involved in a Trade: Britta Curl (2 votes)

If the last question was a wide field of answers, this was a complete crapshoot. Aside from what I assume are two Minnesota fans hoping to dump Britta Curl on some other team, everyone else seems to be selected at random, so I won’t bother with any conjecture, you can observe and draw conclusions for yourself.

[sturnswrites]

terms and conditions - pt.1

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

⤳ you move in with the triplets after losing your apartment prompting a "roommate agreement". after having a tricky relationship with matt, some of the rules begin to blur.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your apartment was practically falling apart, but it was your falling-apart apartment. The peeling paint on the walls, the leaky faucet in the kitchen, and the loud radiator were all tolerable quirks in exchange for your independence. At least, they had been—until your landlord decided to sell the building.

He gave you a thirty-day notice to pack up your life and leave. Thirty days. You’d scoured every listing, called every friend, and considered living in your car for a hot second. Nothing worked.

That’s when Alyssa, a mutual friend of yours and the Sturniolo brothers, threw out an unexpected suggestion.

“Why don’t you just move in with Chris, Matt, and Nick?” she said casually over coffee one morning, as if the idea wasn’t completely absurd.

You nearly choked on your latte. “What?”

“They’ve got a spare room,” she explained, shrugging. “I’m pretty sure it’s just storage right now. And you know Nick—he’s the nicest person on the planet. He wouldn’t let you live on the streets.”

Sure, Nick was nice. Chris was funny. And Matt... Well, you and Matt had always had this weird energy. You weren’t exactly close, but you ran in the same crowd. The idea of living with him felt... complicated.

Still, you were desperate.

-

The sound of your suitcase wheels dragging up the Sturniolo’s driveway felt oddly ominous. You’d spent the past week couch-surfing and praying for a miracle, but this? Moving in with Matt Sturniolo and his brothers wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured as your “fresh start.”

The door swung open before you even knocked.

“Y/N!” Nick’s grin was so wide it was almost comical. He looked genuinely thrilled to see you, stepping aside to usher you into the house. “You’re here! Welcome to chaos.”

You gave him a nervous smile, dragging your bag inside. “Thanks for letting me crash here. I promise I won’t be a burden.”

Nick waved me off like the thought was absurd. “You’re not a burden. Chris’s already planning a ridiculous ‘roommate initiation,’ and Matt—”

Nick stopped mid-sentence, his eyes darting toward the stairs.

You followed his gaze to find Matt leaning against the banister, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Matt is what?” you asked hesitantly.

“Matt is... adjusting,” Nick said with a forced smile before walking off to grab Chris.

Adjusting? That was one way to put it. Matt’s dark eyes were fixed on you, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

“Hey,” you said finally, your voice softer than you intended.

“Hey.” His tone wasn’t cold exactly, but it lacked the warmth that Nick had greeted me with. “You sure about this?”

The question caught you off guard. “Sure about what?”

“This,” Matt said, gesturing vaguely to the house. “Moving in. Living with us. Sharing space. It’s not exactly... peaceful around here.”

You lifted an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? Because you seem less than thrilled.”

Matt exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, it’s not personal. It’s just—”

“Matt!” Chris’s voice boomed from the hallway as he appeared with a soda can in one hand and a mischievous grin. “Stop scaring her off before she’s even unpacked!”

Matt rolled his eyes but stepped aside, letting Chris take over.

“Y/N, you’re gonna love it here,” Chris said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Nick’s an angel, I’m hilarious, and Matt is... well, he’s Matt.”

“Gee, thanks,” Matt muttered, retreating toward the kitchen.

-

Later that evening, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, unpacking groceries you’d picked up to contribute to the house. The place had a comfortable lived-in feel—fridge magnets from random trips, mismatched chairs around the dining table, and a faint smell of laundry detergent in the air.

You were halfway through stuffing a bag of chips into the pantry when Matt walked in, grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

“Stocking up already?” he asked, his tone bordering on teasing but still cautious.

You shrugged. “Figured it’s the least I could do, since you guys are letting me stay here.”

Matt leaned against the counter, watching you for a moment. It was the kind of gaze that made your skin prickle—not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that felt like he was dissecting every detail.

“You don’t have to try so hard,” he said finally.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, setting his glass down, “this isn’t some trial period. You’re here now. You don’t need to prove anything.”

You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed. ���Thanks for the pep talk, but I’m not exactly used to relying on other people.”

Matt smirked faintly. “Yeah, I can tell.”

His words stung more than you expected, and you bristled. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is with me being here, but if it’s going to be an issue—”

“I don’t have a problem,” he cut you off, his voice calm but firm. “I just don’t think you realize what you’re getting into. Living here isn’t going to be easy.”

You took a step closer, meeting his gaze head-on. “I think I can handle it.”

For a moment, the air between you two felt charged, like neither of you were willing to back down. Then, just as quickly as the tension had built, Matt smirked and shook his head.

“Alright, Y/N,” he said, grabbing his glass and heading for the door. “We’ll see.”

-

“Alright, ground rules,” Matt said, sitting stiffly on the couch. He had that look on his face—the one that said he was tolerating this against his better judgment.

Nick sat cross-legged beside him, practically buzzing with excitement. “This is going to be so fun! Like a sitcom but real life!”

“I give it three weeks before we’re all at each other’s throats,” Matt muttered under his breath.

Chris, lounging in an armchair with a soda can in hand, grinned. “Nah, I'll give it a month.”

You stood awkwardly by the coffee table, feeling like an intruder. “Look, I don’t want to mess up your vibe or whatever. If this is a bad idea—”

“It’s not!” Nick cut in, shooting Chris a pointed look. “You’re staying. End of discussion.”

Matt rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he sighed and grabbed a notebook off the table. “Fine. But we need rules. Ground rules. Non-negotiable.”

Chris sat up, suddenly interested. “Oh, this is going to be good. Like a ‘roommate agreement’?”

Matt nodded, clicking his pen. “Exactly. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

“No stealing food from the fridge without asking,” Chris declared, waving his pen dramatically. “Unless it’s something I don’t want anymore. In that case, you’re welcome to it.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “How about just ask first? Easy.”

Matt, who had taken on the role of unofficial scribe, wrote it down without comment.

“Rule number three,” you said, smirking, “No entering each other’s rooms uninvited.”

“Rule number four,” Nick added, grinning, “No hooking up.”

You groaned. “Seriously?”

Nick shrugged innocently. “It’s for the good of the household.”

Matt’s pen paused mid-word, and he glanced at you before finishing the sentence. “It’s practical.”

Chris snorted. “Yeah, definitely practical. You can’t hook up with me either, Y/N. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, laughing despite myself.

Matt didn’t laugh, but when your eyes met across the table, something flickered there—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

-

By the time you all finished, the poster board was filled with a mix of serious rules and ridiculous ones. Chris insisted on adding “No touching my Pepsi cases” while Nick demanded “No pranking me unless I deserve it.” Matt, of course, had the final say on anything involving his personal space.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Nick taped the poster to the fridge. It was ridiculous and chaotic—much like the three of them.

“Welcome to the madhouse,” Chris said, clinking his soda can against yours.

Matt stayed quiet, watching you from across the room. You couldn’t quite read his expression, but you got the feeling he was still wary about this whole arrangement.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Just don’t break the rules.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ohno-wallace]

Hiiii!! I love your art, it's so pleasing like summer. I read you're taking requests for s&c and was wondering if you could draw them hugging? From the Thor bridge case ���� thank you so much!!

Oh you can’t tell me this wasn’t awkward. thank you for this ask !! I loved drawing this one! My inbox is open for s&c requests if you have any ! Please please please send em over !! :)