#like from January so not that old I guess
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It's January 26th so that means IT'S MY ANNUAL ART PROGRESS CHECK featuring my beloved OC, Shelby. (scroll down for a side-by-side comparison)
And I brought back her OG colors! I love this pose sm so I just decided to reuse it, also to save time.
To everyone whom I still owe art to, I would like to apologize for disappearing. I took the licensure examination two days ago and I have been preparing for it for the last two months. I wanted to message everyone (as it was the right thing to do) but I really did not want to open social media bec I know I will get distracted from studying.
And I just had this thing where when I didn't draw for a long time, I always forget how to draw, so I first practice on personal art before working on paid work to make sure that I will be able to deliver.
✨ 2024 vs 2025 ✨
Now, for some OC lore:
🔸 She is born on January 26th (basically her creation date). 🔸 Her favorite color is wine red, and she always paints her nails and lips with that color. 🔸 She is an only child. Her parents prepared her for years for a certain competition, unfortunately, she wasn't able to execute her performance correctly and wasn't able to finish at all. She thought this disappointed her parents, so she ran from home, lived in an old garage somewhere, and hid behind the name 'Shelby'. Art is one of her hobbies so she was able to renovate the garage and make it look like a home.
That's all I want to tell about her so far. Zach's lore is a lot more coherent and well-thought of than this one. I guess it's rightfully so since Zach is one of my oldest OCs in terms of conception.
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Paint Marker Test 💕💕
#uselessfangirlart#my art#old art#like from January so not that old I guess#drawen in a five below hello kitty notebook#wanted 2 see if I could use poscas for something else#and good ole glitter gel pens#he’s super sparkly#and cute#like damn boy#chill lol#shezow#fanart#female artist#cute#artists on tumblr#mine#posca markers#pink#girly#kawaii#hearts#nostalgia#cartoon#traditional#markers#soooooooo many hearts aghh#note this is filtered to heck to make it look more aesthetic#it’s nowhere near as bright irl#sorry 2 disappoint
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HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.
The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.
#pjo#hoo#heroes of olympus#riordanverse#my second favorite thing related to this is like every time Hazel references someone's age especially in SoN it's just. blatantly incorrect.#she goes into very specific detail about how she's 14. detailing like exactly how many months it had been since her birthday#and when she died and when she was brought back. just like ''okay. im 14 and a half. got that? good.''#''anyways here's Frank. he's 3 years older than me'' like literal next chapter. we are told Frank is not 3 years older than her.#Hazel: Here's my older brother! [Nico is younger than her in literally every way feasible]#ive just decided Hazel is an unreliable narrator who is just really bad at guessing/remembering how old people are#which like. adhd mood. forgetting how old everybody is.#and she has the bonus excuse of saying her sense of time is skewed from being a ghost for so long#but it's just so funny every time she's just. with the upmost confidence. blatantly the wrong answer.#i want a scene of Hazel looking at Percy and just going ''hm. I bet he's like 20.'' and then learns he's 16#and she's just [surprised pikachu]#also we know it isn't an error that she's 14 cause in TOA she's like ''oh yeah im learning to drive!''#so she's 15 by then#it is however an error that *Nico* is said to be 14 in hoo cause he's 12 in TLO and 14 in TOA#but we know in HoO the reason that error was made was cause Rick hadn't figured out Nico's birthday yet#and he was flipping it between January or March#so he just forgot how old Nico is for a series and then we went back to normal
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rr is so bad with timelines and ages literally would hazel not be 14 already by the time of son of neptune. am i the crazy one here
#x#pjo posting#her 13th bday was before she died in december n then she came back in. september ? 9 months ago#so that december passed by. which makes her 14#see what i think the problem is here is that they wanted to give nico a sister but also wanted him to be older but then they also forgot ho#fucking YOUNG nico is in the original series#like that boy is BARELY out of being a. 12 year old. by the end of TLO#no wait seriously is he 13 by the end of that book. i can’t remember#POINT IS. rr is terrible with ages im making this shit up n keeping track of it on my own idc#same thing happened in the lost hero where it’s mentioned jason saw a pic of thalia w luke where she looked 15 n i was like thats literally#impossible bc she got turned into a tree when she was TWELVE and then came back as an almost 16yo n by that point literally only saw luke t#kick him off a cliff#so. whatever#hazel is 14 ish frank is newly 16 percy is. soon to be 17? in like two months i think#bc SoN is set in june. or something#tlo trio are all 15 i think. from what i remember. don’t quote me on that#nico is. i guess 14 as well. same age as hazel??? her bday is in december n his im Prettyyy sure is in january#so we’ll say she’s slightly older but he just pretends he’s the older brother anyways
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"Orange Juice" Noah Kahan
It's the patronizing tone that makes him shut his eyes.
Step ten. Deep breath. Step ten.
It's not the feeling of detachment. It's not the isolation. Guilt again, maybe. The silence that comes from not having the words. Not wanting to speak.
"I'm sorry. I should have been better with calling."
Step ten.
And it's continuous, isn't it? All of it.
Not just the prayers or the meetings or...
"I don't think it's a good idea for me to come, though."
It's not the temptation to drink. It hasn't been as bad since he got out.
It's all of the rest of it, maybe. All of the laughter, flush-cheeked. The late-night, idealistic bullshit. He still believes it, he thinks. At least a little bit, sometimes.
But there's no real fixing it. No real way to make amends. That's what step nine says.
Anna will be there, most likely. She slammed the door when he tried. He won't upset her again.
#I struggled with this.#I really liked the song but I struggled with this.#Reminds me a bit of “17th Street Treatment Center” by John K. Samson.#So I guess part of that is bleeding through.#I was today years old when I learned that the guy from “Confessions of a Futon Revolutionist” is Virtute's owner.#Which is kind of shameful considering how long I've been listening to the Weakerthans/JKS and how many times I saw them in concert.#But I don't typically read interviews.#And he never mentioned it live at any of the shows I'd been to that the guy from Futon Revolutionist is the same guy.#So I guess the Virtute quartet is really a quintet.#Also I have a Vivat Virtute t-shirt from a show I want to say sometime mid 2010s.#It is my most prized band t-shirt.#January 24 2025
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you belong with me — nanami kento.
"Hi….I’m Kento."
“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied.
“Yeah, that’s my name.”
“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.
“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.
GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;
WARNING/S: afab! reader, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, car sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my love, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, best friend! nanami kento, best friend! reader;
WORD COUNT: 14k words.
NOTE: hello everyone, this is the final fic for 2024!!! wah, there's a lot to say. first and foremost, this fic would not be possible if it wasn't for the lovely person who commissioned it from me awhile back. please give them a lot of love and a lot of thanks.
they were my first ever commission here and still it flutters my heart with joy to have worked them. they were so good to me and continues to do so, with how they want to share this fic with you too.
also, i want to thank you all for sticking with me this 2024. it was a long road and a really painful time. i wrote to escape these painful times and i got through 2024 with you guys, just enjoying stories in my head. so thank you!!! there were a lot and there are still a lot i haven't published here.
i hope we continue to be together in 2025 too. i'll continue to write for both of us, to have solace in hard times. i bow to you in all ways that i can. thank you for being good to me!!! i love you all. this is kayu signing off for 2024. please have a lovely and wonderful new year and i'll see you on january 2025 <33333
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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EVEN AS A CHILD, YOU THOUGHT THAT HE BELONGED TO YOU. It was a childish little thing, you knew that much. But the moment you met Nanami Kento at the park when you were five years old, you just knew he was going to be your best friend.
And no one else could claim that from you. It wasn’t something you decided after a long debate in your head. If anything, it was instinctive, instant, like the way a flower turns toward the sun. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t seem to mind it.
That day, Nanami Kento was sitting on the swings, looking unusually serious for a kid. His little legs dangled, barely brushing the ground, and he rocked back and forth so slightly it was as if he wasn’t even moving. It was odd.
Most kids treated the swings like they were flying machines, pumping their legs wildly, laughing as they soared. But not Kento. He just sat there, his small hands gripping the chains, his gaze fixed on the ground as though it held all the answers to the universe.
It wasn’t sadness—not exactly. He didn’t look miserable or lonely. No, it was more like he was... satisfied. Content in his little bubble of silence, where the noise of the playground seemed to slide right past him.
You, however, were not content with his quiet. What could a kid possibly have to think about so deeply? Why wasn’t he running around, chasing someone, or shouting nonsense with the other kids? How could he stomach sitting there alone for so long?
The questions buzzed in your head, but more than that, you felt a pull. You wanted to know him. You wanted him to talk to you, to share whatever thoughts were hiding behind those serious brown eyes. And if he wouldn’t come to you, well, that was fine. You’d go to him.
You had the kind of confidence that only comes from being five years old and utterly fearless. The kind of confidence that didn’t know rejection or hesitation, only the certainty that the world would say "yes" if you asked it nicely enough.
So, you marched right up to him, your pigtails bouncing with each determined step. You put on your brightest smile, the kind of smile that has always gotten adults to bend down and coo. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?”
"Hi!" you announced, planting yourself firmly in front of him like he had no choice but to acknowledge you. You told him your name, grinning at him.
He blinked, startled out of his deep, secured thoughts to the sight of you. It took a while, but he lifted his caramel gaze to meet yours. For a moment, he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if you were real. No one has ever approached him before, well not as brazenly as this. Then, finally, he answered you back.
"Hi….I’m Kento."
“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied.
“Yeah, that’s my name.”
“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.
“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.
“Huh? It’s pretty!” you retorted, your hands flying to your hips, a slight pout settling on your lips. “My mom thought hard about it, you know!”
“So did mine.” Kento shot back, a flicker of mischief lighting his normally serious face. Then, in a tone that was just a little too smug, he added, “It’s a good name too.”
For a second, you just stared at him, caught off guard by the slyness in his tone. Then, to your own surprise, you burst out laughing. It wasn’t just the words that got to you—it was the way he said them, so calm and deliberate, like he was throwing you a challenge wrapped in politeness.
“You’re funny, you know that?” you decided, grinning widely.
Kento raised an eyebrow at that, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Well, you are.” you said firmly, as though your opinion was final. “So, Kento, what do you wanna do? We could swing, or climb the jungle gym, or—oh! We could build a sandcastle!”
He blinked, caught off guard by your rapid-fire suggestions. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, like he wasn’t used to making decisions for playtime.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand without a second thought. “Then we’re doing the sandcastle! Come on, you’re gonna love it.”
He let you pull him along, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. “What if I don’t?” he asked, his voice so soft you almost missed the challenge in it.
“You will!” you said confidently, already imagining the crooked towers you’d build together. “Because I said so.”
Nanami Kento didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet laugh, the sound so small you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. But you were paying attention, because something about this boy made you want to see every little detail he kept hidden in that quiet bubble of his.
From that moment, Kento Nanami became yours.
He knew that just as much as you did, even then.
And he was certain you were just as much his from then.
It wasn’t long into your days of playdates before you started staking your claim. You didn’t mean to—well, maybe you did. That really didn’t matter. What mattered was that you and Kento were having fun. Like the time some other kids approached while you and Kento were hard at work in the sandbox, trying to make your castle less crooked.
"Hey, kid!" one of them called, pointing at the little shovel in Kento’s hands. "Can I borrow that?"
"No way." you said firmly before Kento could even open his mouth. You shot the kid a look that clearly said back off. "We’re using it."
"But—"
"Nope. Sorry. It’s ours to play with." you cut them off, turning back to your castle as if the conversation was over. "Right, Kento?"
Kento hesitated for a second, glancing between you and the other kid, before quietly nodding. "Right."
The other kids' faces were filled with harsh looks at what you said. But you didn’t care. All they could do was huff and puff until they were blue in the face. You would never budge, not even if they wanted you too.
You were a tough girl. And you always got what you wanted. And you wanted your new friend and his attention only on you. So you didn't care what you did. You’ll keep your friend, no matter what they want.
Soon enough, they gave in and went to wander off. You can only smile. You didn’t feel the slightest bit bad. If anything, you had wished that they had left much sooner.
You turned to Kento with a satisfied smile. "Good. They’d just mess it up anyway. It’s better if we play together, only us!"
Kento tilted his head, watching you with that quiet curiosity he always seemed to have. You seemed to be content about playing just by yourself, by his side. Not many kids seem to be content about wanting to do that at all.
"Why don’t you let other kids play with us?" he asked.
You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious. "Because you’re my friend. I found you first. That means you’re mine."
For a moment, he just stared at you.
Then, slowly, that tiny, barely-there smile returned.
"Okay." he said simply, like he didn’t mind one bit.
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YEARS DRAGGED ON IN A FLASH FOR BOTH OF YOU. From that day forward, Nanami Kento was your shadow. Or maybe you were his—it often depended on who was asking and whose ego needed inflating at the moment.
But that was just how it was between the two of you. And you were content about how that goes. You knew he was just the same. Not because you went around declaring it (okay, maybe you did once or twice), but because your actions left no room for doubt.
The two of you were inseparable, and everyone knew it. In a way, both your parents were both glad and concerned about it. Glad that you both were in each other’s lives, nurturing and caring for each other. That means you both weren’t lonely, and you both were happily playing with each other day in and out of school.
But concerned that you weren’t letting each other find any other people in your lives and explore other friendships. But that hardly mattered to the two of you. Both of you didn’t budge. You didn’t need anyone else. If anything, you only need each other. You were both content with that.
If there was a school project, Nanami Kento was your partner. No debates, no negotiation. You made sure of it every single time. It got to the point where teachers didn’t even bother asking anymore. By third grade, the class roster might as well have been printed with your name and his own written in bold under "Partners" for every project.
“Do you guys ever work with anyone else?” a classmate once dared to ask.
“Why would we?” you replied, looking genuinely puzzled. “He’s the best at making the physical parts.I don’t need anyone else.”
Kento, standing beside you, simply shrugged. “She’s good at explaining the messy, hard parts.” he said, so matter-of-factly it left no room for argument.
At lunch, it was no different. You always saved him a spot, waving him over like a VIP guest being ushered past the velvet rope. And no one dared sit with the two of you. Not after The Incident.
There was one time where a new kid made the mistake of sliding into the seat next to Nanami Kento before he got there. You didn’t even hesitate to act as quickly as you could.
“Excuse me, new kid.” you said, your voice sugary sweet, but your eyes narrowing dangerously.
“What?” the kid asked, glancing up at you.
“That’s his seat.” You pointed toward Kento, who was still in the lunch line, entirely oblivious to the showdown brewing at the table.
“Seats are for everyone in the school.” the kid said, with all the defiance of someone who didn’t know better yet. “I can sit wherever I want.”
And that’s when you did it. You reached out and swatted their hand as they tried to open their milk carton. You glared at him, almost as cold as the North Pole. He gulped at your glare. You were terrifying for a middle schooler.
“Go. Somewhere. Else.” you said, every word punctuated with a glare that could have sent a grown man packing. “That’s HIS seat!”
The new kid was terrified and immediately scurried off, muttering something about "territorial weirdos." — that was another thing for the school to whisper about in their past time. But you didn’t care.
By the time that he got out of the boy’s toilets, Nanami Kento got to the table, his spot was as clear as always, and you were already peeling the wrapper off the sandwich your mom made for him like nothing had happened.
“Thanks.” he said, sitting down without even asking why the kid from earlier was now eating on the other side of the cafeteria. He saw that of course. But he didn’t dare ask. “Thank your mom for me, about the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome.” you replied, sliding his sandwich over to him. You smiled as he opened his own lunch bag and started to pull out chocolate pudding in a tupperware. “Ohhhh, your mom thought of dessert!”
“Hm, I asked her.” Kento retorts back to you, smiling softly at your excitement. “Since you like chocolate pudding.”
“Thank your mama for me, okay?”
“Hm, I will.”
But of course, your protectiveness didn’t stop at lunch seats. If anything, you were protective of him to the point that it was already insane. If anyone so much as thought about teasing him, you were on them like a hawk. It didn’t matter if it was a stupid nickname or a poorly aimed joke. Nanami Kento wasn’t going to deal with any of it, not on your watch.
“Hey, Kento, why are you so quiet all the time?” one boy snickered during recess, his tone dripping with mockery.
Before Kento could even respond, you were already there, hands on your hips and glaring like you were ready to call down the wrath of the heavens. You glared at the kid as though he was meeting to face a thousand suns.
“Maybe he’s quiet because he doesn’t waste time saying dumb things like you do.” you snapped, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow for maximum effect. “Stop being a weird waste of space and leave him alone, you freak!”
The boy tried to stammer something in response, but you didn’t wait to hear it. You didn’t care for what they said. Only for what Kento says. You rolled your eyes at the kid, as though he bored you and looked away. Soon enough, you turned back to Kento, your expression softening immediately.
“Come on, Kento.” you said, grabbing his hand. “We’re going to the swings.”
Kento didn’t say much about that. But later, when that same boy made a malicious face at you from across the playground and had made a plan to chase you with a bottle of water to throw, Nanami Kento was the first to sense a threat against you.
He sighed heavily and without even looking up from his picture book muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “She’s faster than you, you know? She would wet your hair and make fun of you for it. So, I wouldn’t try it.”
The boy stayed far away after that.
And you could only giggle at what he said.
Nanami Kento knew you all too well.
But just as much as you were ready to fight Nanami Kento’s battles, he was ready to fight yours. And while you often took on challenges with the energy of a charging bull, Kento’s approach was quieter, deadlier—like a knife slipping between ribs before anyone even noticed it was there. He was just that type of kid, you think.
You first realized just how far Kento was willing to go for you one day when a group of older girls decided to target your ponytails. It wasn’t a big deal to you at first; you were used to the occasional teasing. But this time, something about their tone, or maybe the way they crowded around, everything about it had made your stomach twist.
“Why do you always look like you just rolled out of bed?” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with faux innocence.
Her friends burst into laughter, as if she’d just delivered the punchline of the century. You bristled, the words forming on your tongue to snap back. But before you could speak, Kento appeared, slipping between you and the girls like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Why do you care?” he asked, his tone calm, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
It was such a simple question, but somehow it silenced the entire group. The girl blinked at him, thrown off by his directness. Kento yawned, as though he was already bored with her. She had never expected anything from him. Kento was quiet and reserved.
He was also popular and quite a handsome young boy that people had a crush on. Even when he didn’t talk or pay any mind to any of them. You glared at this girl, as though she was the worst of them all. She’s always been trying to take Kento from you.
“Uh, excuse me?” she said, attempting to regain her composure.
“You heard me.” Kento’s gaze was steady, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was an edge to his voice that made it clear he wasn’t messing around. “Why do you care what she looks like? Or are you just bored?”
The giggling stopped.
“Well, I—” The girl floundered, her cheeks turning pink.
“She looks fine to me.” Kento interrupted smoothly, tilting his head slightly as if he were assessing them. “Better than you, anyway. I mean, those pants with that shirt? What are you thinking? Does your mom even love you if she allows you to wear something like that?”
You could’ve heard a pin drop at what he had said. You look at him, blinkingly. Before finding yourself bellowing at laughter at how blunt he had worked everything. The girls gasped, their mouths falling open in perfect synchronization. One of them muttered something about “rude boys” and then, just like that, they were gone, retreating with their tails between their legs.
You stood there, stunned, as Kento turned back to you like nothing had happened. You finally straightened yourself from your laughing form. You wiped your eyes as you turned back at him. You grinned at his words.
“Better than her?” you repeated later as the two of you walked back to class. You were trying not to laugh, but the corners of your mouth kept twitching upward.
“It’s true. You already know that.” he said simply, not bothering to look up from the book he’d already opened, as if the whole thing hadn’t even fazed him.
“Aw, you think I’m cute, don’t you?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
“Don’t push it.” he replied dryly, but the tiny smirk playing at the corner of his lips betrayed him.
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BUT OF COURSE, THIS ONLY INTENSIFIED ONCE YOU BOTH GREW OLDER. Entering this new environment, in high school — one could say nothing had ever changed. If anything, it has only grown more concrete that you and Nanami Kento, no one can separate the two of you even if they tried.
If one were to describe how you both were, it would be like being a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Inseparable. And even when people questioned it, you turned them down just as easily. Little by little, people barely questioned it anymore.
You had long since reached the point where your friendship was so solid that it seemed like a fact of life. If anyone tried to ask about it, the answer was already clear: You two were a package deal. And while you liked it that way, not everyone seemed to get the memo.
It didn’t take long for the attention to roll in once high school started. You were used to it by now. After all, you and Kento had always been a pair of conspicuously close friends, so naturally, people were curious.
But this was a different kind of curiosity, the kind that came with stares and whispers behind your backs. Everyone seemed to have suddenly developed a keen interest in your best friend, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of his brooding good looks or that deep, mysterious aura he carried, but maybe, probably both.
It started with the girls, as it usually did. They would hover around Kento in class, a little too eager to engage in conversations about anything—his favorite books, his thoughts on the weather, even the random things he’d written in the margins of his notes. It didn’t matter what they brought up; they were just looking for an excuse to get a reaction out of him.
They wanted to be the one to crack the mystery that was Nanami Kento. And of course, they expected him to open up, to smile, to laugh, to do something that would confirm they were special enough to make him forget his usual quiet, studious demeanor.
But Kento, being the stoic, no-nonsense guy he was, would respond with quiet politeness, barely even registering their presence. He would tilt his head slightly when they asked questions, look at them through the edge of his glasses, and give just enough of an answer to keep things from getting awkward.
The girls would often stare at him a little longer than necessary, hoping for a second of warmth or acknowledgment. But no matter how many times they tried, all they got was that polite, impersonal smile that didn’t reach his eyes. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care; it was just that he didn’t care about them, not in the way they wanted.
To Nanami Kento, it was all just noise. So, he’d just keep his focus on what mattered, which was probably the latest algebra problem or his ongoing internal monologue about the best way to prepare his next snack.
Even as an emo guy with that black hoodie, messy blond hair, brooding eyes that screamed ‘don’t talk to me, but if you do, be prepared for my sarcasm’—people still flocked to him. It was almost unfair, you thought. He had this combination of boy-next-door charm and detached, almost tragic mystique that girls couldn’t resist.
He was a pretty boy, you knew that much. You’d known him long enough to appreciate the way his eyes glinted in the sunlight, how his messy hair always looked effortlessly perfect, how he somehow made a monotone voice sound like the most hypnotic thing in the room.
And it wasn’t just the girls, either. The guys were starting to notice, too. Sure, they didn’t hover the same way, but they’d get a little too chatty when Kento was around, laughing a little too hard at his dry jokes, trying just a bit too hard to be friendly.
Everyone knew he wasn’t the type to just buddy up with anyone, and that mystery only made him more desirable. So when they’d get too close, you’d notice the slight twitch of Kento’s eyebrow, the way he’d lean just a little bit further away to make it clear that he was not interested in their company.
But the one thing you didn’t doubt was this: Kento was really polite. He never outright rejected anyone, and that politeness was a plus. Sure, it drove you a little crazy when they’d swarm him like bees to honey.
But you had to admit that his politeness was a rare commodity in a world where most people had no issue turning someone down rudely or making them feel uncomfortable. Kento didn’t do that. He’d simply nod back at people and get back to whatever it was he was doing, never making a fuss about the attention.
Well, it was better than over half the school, that’s for sure. You’d seen the way people treated each other, cold and snide, brushing off others without so much as a second thought. Kento was a rare gem in that regard. He was a gentleman, even in the face of all the attention he was getting, and that made it all the more frustrating.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want people to admire him; you just didn’t like the thought of anyone thinking they could replace you. You and Kento had this bond, a strong one, one that didn’t need words to be understood. But here was the thing—everyone else didn’t get it. And that was where the fun (and by fun, you mean sneaky sabotage) began.
After all, who else could say they knew all his little quirks? Who else had shared so many quiet lunches under that same oak tree, or been the one to force him to eat a full meal instead of staring at his book? You were his best friend, and that meant you had a certain, special claim on him, no matter how many girls wanted to make themselves part of his world.
But, like the selfless best friend you were, you’d keep that fact under wraps. No one needed to know you had a stake in him—especially when you were also the one helping him avoid the chaos of all his newfound admirers. Let them keep fighting over who could be the one to crack Kento's cold exterior; you'd be the one to keep it safe.
But that wasn’t enough. No, they wanted more. They wanted to peel back the layers, crack open that cool exterior, and find whatever hidden treasure lay beneath. And that was where you came in. That’s where you always have to come in. He was your best friend, after all.
It wasn’t that you hated the attention Kento was getting, but it was yours, wasn’t it? You didn’t want anyone to think they could just stroll up and waltz into the little bubble you and Kento had created. And you know he agreed. He doesn’t really need anyone else, he’s said that to you numerous times.
So naturally, you and Kento found creative ways to sabotage any admirer who dared to get too close. It wasn’t malicious, exactly. Well, not to you or Kento. it was more like you were just “protecting” him, and, on occasion, he did the same for you.
It started with the simple things. You'd hover near him during lunch, casually tossing your snacks at him in a way that made it obvious you didn’t want him interacting too much with anyone else. It was like a game of cat-and-mouse between the two of you. Both of you pretended you weren’t doing it, but everyone knew exactly what you were up to.
For example, when this girl from the other class named Yuki asked to sit with Kento one day during lunch time, you quickly swooped in, plopping down next to him like you were the most important thing in his world. You grinned at him and he hummed.
“Hey, Kentooooo!” you said, dropping your lunch tray in front of him. “Did you get those history notes I gave you this morning?”
Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, you continued to talk to him with a brighter grin. You nonchalantly handed your strawberry milk carton to him and he started to open it for you with the same amount of cool.
“I was thinking of making brownies this weekend. You like chocolate, right? The ones that we used to buy at the mart? It hasn’t changed, right?” You sent her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know it's probably too sweet, but it’s his favorite.”
Kento nodded back at you as he placed your strawberry milk carton on the side. You thanked him happily as you started to drink with happy sounds. Kento simply looked at Yuki with the politest expression he could muster and muttered back at her.
“Sorry, I’ve got a study group with her after school. Maybe next time.”
Yuki didn’t even bother trying to argue, just nodding stiffly before retreating. You shot Kento a quick grin, but before you could say anything, he just sighed and went back to his book.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” he muttered under his breath. “Could have handled that myself.”
“But I have to. You know that.” you said with a grin, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth. “You’re my best friend, not hers.”
One day at lunch, as you and Kento sat under the shade of the old oak tree, munching on your usual snacks, a girl named Mia from your history class walked by. She glanced at Kento, then at you, then back at Kento, before finally stopping a few feet away.
"Hey, Kento!" she called, her voice way too sweet for your liking. “Mind if I join you guys?”
You didn’t even have to look up from your crackers. “Sure, but he doesn’t bite.” you said, not even looking at Mia. “I mean, I don’t think so...”
Kento, who had been engrossed in a textbook the size of a brick, glanced up at you before looking back at Mia. "I can sit alone, you know." he said, a little too casually, not even bothering to hide the fact that he didn’t care much for the attention.
Mia, undeterred, tried again. “Are you sure? I heard you like this band, too. Maybe we could—”
But before she could finish her sentence, you leaned forward, dropping a half-eaten cracker dramatically into your lap as if to make your point clear.
"If you want to talk about music, you’re gonna have to take it up with me right now, okay?" you declared, giving her your best “this is my turf” look. "Kento here’s more into his book right now, not whatever band you think you have in common with him."
Kento blinked slowly, clearly trying to figure out why he was being pulled into this, but didn't argue. He just glanced at you and nodded, an expression you knew meant, I’m not getting involved in this one.
Mia looked between you and Kento, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Okay, fine.” she muttered before turning around and walking off, her face flushed red.
"Good job, hero," Kento muttered under his breath, voice dry.
You smirked at him. "You’re welcome, sunshine."
Of course, it wasn’t like you were the only one who was possessive. Nanami Kento hated that you were constantly getting hit on. It drove him absolutely insane. Apparently, teenage boys had this ridiculous notion that your consistent rejections made you more appealing. The more you turned them down, the more determined they became, like you were some kind of prize to be won.
Nanami Kento of course, naturally, found this logic baffling—and irritating. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to handle yourself; he absolutely did. He hated everyone else, maybe most of all the men around him and of course — you.
But watching those guys swarm around you, trying to impress you with their lame jokes or over-the-top compliments, made his jaw tighten and his grip on his pen just a little too firm. Oh, he hated men even more like that. And, well, Kento was never one to sit back and let something annoy him for too long. Not when it comes to you.
But of course, there are things that come as unexpected too.
Maybe it was because Nanami Kento was too perceptive.
Maybe he was just good at dissecting situations happening.
He doesn’t know how this happened, or how this came to pass.
But today would change his life for good, that was certain.
A week after one particularly bold senior cornered you after class to “ask for your number” Kento decided to return the favor—not with dramatics, of course, but with his usual understated, calm assertiveness.
You were sitting in the library, animatedly telling Kento about your latest sketch. It was a concept you were certain would win the upcoming art contest. He was actually paying attention, nodding slightly as you explained your technique, when suddenly, a guy from the senior class decided to interrupt.
“Hey, you’re the girl who draws, right?” the senior asked, leaning against the edge of the table with a grin that screamed overconfident.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah, that’s me.”
“Well,” he continued, practically oozing smugness, “I was thinking, maybe you’d want to collaborate on some sketches sometime. You know, we could—”
Before he could finish whatever weak line he’d rehearsed, Kento smoothly slid into the seat beside you, his broad shoulders cutting off your view of the guy. He didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he turned to you, his voice calm but laced with just enough edge to make his point.
“I’m pretty sure sketching is a solitary activity.” Kento said matter-of-factly. “You know, for concentration… unless, of course, you want a distraction?”
The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Kento’s sudden presence. “Uh, no, I—”
Kento didn’t let him finish. “You know….” he continued, still not looking at the guy. “It’s actually better if you’re alone when you’re working. Less… interruptions.”
He then picked up your sketchbook, flipping through it with the kind of casual indifference that somehow made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Your jaw dropped at what he’s done.He’s silly like this sometimes, you think to yourself.
“Kento!” you half-laughed, half-scolded, reaching for your sketchbook. “That’s my sketchbook!”
“Yeah, I know, I know.” he replied nonchalantly, not even pretending to give it back. His attention wasn’t on your sketches anymore, though. His eyes were fixed on the poor senior, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably under Kento’s unnervingly calm stare.
“Do you mind?” Kento said coolly. “She’s busy.”
The guy stammered something unintelligible, his confidence evaporating faster than a spilled soda in the sun. “Uh… yeah, maybe another time, I guess.” he mumbled before slinking off, clearly realizing he was no match for Nanami Kento’s level of subtle intimidation.
Once the guy was gone, you turned back to Kento, crossing your arms with a mix of exasperation and amusement. You giggled to yourself for a moment. He sighed, looking at how amused you were. It was always like this with you, getting giddy when he does things like this.
“Nice one, Kento.” you said, smirking. “You do know I could have handled that, right?”
Kento raised an eyebrow, setting your sketchbook back down and leaning back in his chair like nothing had happened. You take it back from him, giving him a small thanks. He couldn’t stop looking at you. But when you looked up again, he'd already looked away.
“Sure.” he said, his lips curling into that faint, almost-smile of his. “But it looked like you were busy… talking to him.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “What was that even about? You’re not my bodyguard, you know.”
“I wasn’t being a bodyguard.” he replied, his tone annoyingly calm. “I was just... pointing out how distracting he was being.”
“Right, right.” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “And that had nothing to do with you hating that he interrupted us?”
Kento didn’t answer right away, but the way his eyes flickered with quiet amusement gave him away. He never likes admitting it out loud, but he feels glad. He feels glad when he makes sure you both are alone. You were all he needed after all.
“Maybe.” he finally admitted, his voice as casual as ever. “Or maybe I just wanted to look at your sketchbook.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you talk too much.” he countered, eyes shining softly against your own.
You giggled back at him, your lips smiling beautifully at him. Beautifully more than ever before. “But you like it that way, don’t you?”
Huh, what was that? He thought to himself.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
Was that his heart beating like that just now?
For a moment, he stops and looks at you. You were unaware about what happened just now. Instead, you were back on your sketching, humming to some song you were obsessed with right now. Kento swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how he was looking at you. He cleared his throat.
“We should get going.” he said finally, his voice a little quieter than usual. “The library closes soon.”
You nodded, falling into step beside him as you always did. But as you walked, Kento couldn’t help sneaking a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. He’d always thought of himself as someone who was good at keeping his emotions in check, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Is this what it feels like? Kento wondered as he watched you walk off in front of him.
He stops. He takes in the sight of you. You were laughing, hopping on the tiles one by one. The sun glows behind you like a beacon leading him to the direction of life. You nearly fell, making him jump forward. But you held your balance.
And then you laughed. Laughed so beautifully that he doesn’t know what to do. He could feel every fiber of him turning warm, warmer and redder than ever before. His heart beating out of rhythm again.
Ah, shit. Kento once more thinks to himself. I’m screwed.
══════════════════
HE DOESN’T THINK TO SAY ANYTHING. How could he, when he’s scared about the outcome? But as the time flew by as fast as it could, he knew he can’t keep being a coward about it. He had to say something. He should do it soon.
It was going to come out anyway. College was looming on both your shoulders. And with that, a lot of uncertainty came. If he says something, at the very least there would be something certain, concrete as your friendship.
The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor of Kento’s family home, a single bottle of sake between you. Neither of you had much experience with alcohol, but the thrill of being eighteen and toeing the line of rebellion was too tempting to resist.
Kento poured carefully into the mismatched cups you'd found in his cupboard, his movements precise, even in the low light.
"Cheers, cheers!" you yell with that bright eyed grin, raising your cup to him.
"To...?" he asked, his brow arching slightly, always wanting things to have a purpose.
"To us!" you said simply, eyes sparkling with mischief.
He hesitated, his breath catching in his chest, before clicking his cup against yours. "To us."
The first sip was sharp, burning its way down, but it wasn’t long before the alcohol began to work its magic with swift effectivity. You laughed more freely, leaning closer to him, and your words came faster, your thoughts unfiltered.
"You know, Kentooooo." you said, poking his shoulder with a pout. "You’re, like, ridiculously handsome, right?"
Kento froze mid-sip, his ears instantly turning as pink as your sweater. "W–what?"
"I mean it! You’re so... ugh…." you groaned, tossing your head back dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?"
"Like what?" he asked, his voice soft, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest.
"Like you’re trying not to smile, but your eyes are giving you away." you teased, your grin widening as you poked his cheek this time.
Nanami Kento could feel his heart pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. Every word you spoke chipped away at his usual composure, and he could feel himself unraveling under the weight of your drunken admiration. In just this moment, you wholly outwit him. You make him come undone. Only you can have that effect on him. Only you.
"You’re unbelievable, you know that?" he muttered, trying to look away, but you caught his chin, turning his face back to yours.
"Admit it already, won’t you?" you said, your voice lower now, but no less playful. "You like me. Maybe even a little too much."
Kento stared at you, the world blurring slightly around the edges, whether from the alcohol or the way you were looking at him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to do it like this. He didn’t want to put up his hopes that you would be sober enough to know the truth. Or for you to have sober truths pouring out of your sharp grinning lips.
"I think…" he began, his voice steady but his heart anything but.
“You think?”
"I’m falling for you. More and more. Every second."
You blinked at what had just shifted in the air, your teasing expression softening as you processed his words. Then, to his surprise, you smiled—not mischievously this time, but gently, sweetly. Full with a merry drink, you smiled.
"Good." you whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the faint sweetness of the sake on your breath. "You said really good words.”
Kento barely had time to breathe before you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, leaving his face on fire and his heart completely, utterly yours. Kento froze, the warmth of your lips lingering on his cheek like a brand. His breath hitched as your words sank into the alcohol-drenched air between you.
“I think I’m already there.”
He stared at you, his usually composed mind now an unsteady swirl of emotions—exhilaration, disbelief, and a flicker of hesitation. Your gaze was soft, dreamy, and undeniably sincere, but the alcohol in your system clouded everything. He said it out loud. But are you sure? How could you be, with how merry the drink is in your belly?
"You don’t mean that." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it too loud would shatter the fragile moment.
"I do. I do." you said, your expression serious despite the light flush of intoxication on your cheeks. You reached for his hand, holding it with a gentle firmness that made his heart stumble in its rhythm.
Kento's fingers curled instinctively around yours before he could stop himself, but his grip was careful, steady. "You're drunk. I just…you can’t say that drunk." he pointed out, his voice more tender than reprimanding.
You frowned, tilting your head like you were trying to understand him through the haze. "So? That doesn’t mean it’s not true."
He sighed, looking down at your joined hands. He wanted so desperately to believe you, to let his heart leap completely into your words, but his rational side, his ever-present voice of reason. It held him back.
"It matters. It matters to me." he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. "If you mean it, I need to hear it when you’re sober. When you’re sure."
"But I am sure, Kento." you insisted, leaning closer, your warmth almost overwhelming him. Your free hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and he felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush.
Kento shook his head, his smile faint but aching with restraint. "Not like this." he murmured. "You’ll wake up tomorrow and—"
"And what? Pretend this didn’t happen?" you interrupted, your brows knitting together. "Do you think I’d forget how much I lo—"
His hand shifted, gently pressing a single finger to your lips to quiet you, though it was more for his sake than yours. He wasn’t sure he could take it, hearing those words from you while your judgment was fogged.
"Stop. Please." he said, his voice barely steady. "Don’t say it now. Not tonight."
Your eyes searched hisfrustration flickering in their depths before softening. You saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way he looked at you like he was holding back an ocean of feelings.
"You're such a romantic, aren’t you?" you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice as a lazy smile spread across your face.
He gave a quiet chuckle, his fingers brushing against your cheek now without realizing it. "Maybe." he admitted, his tone gentler than ever. "But I want this—want us—to start right. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me again."
You let out a small sigh but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as your eyelids grew heavy. You always liked this, taking in his warmth. You don’t think there was any other place you belonged in but his arms.
If you were being honest, you were afraid. He was right. Your words could mean something, and maybe it wouldn’t be as clear as his own. You were drunk. You were really drunk. And feels hazy in your head. It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to your Kento. Not like this.
"Fine." you murmured, your words slurring slightly. "But you’d better be ready for me to say it a hundred times tomorrow. Maybe a thousand."
Kento chuckled again, the sound low and warm in his chest, as he rested his chin lightly on top of your head. "I’ll be ready." he promised, even as his own heart thudded wildly at the thought. “I’m always waiting for you. Always.”
And as you drifted off, still clutching his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, Kento silently vowed to himself: when the time came, he’d tell you how deeply, how completely he felt for you too. He just needed to be sure you knew what it meant.
The morning after that night, you woke up on Kento's couch, the faint remnants of sake lingering in the air. Your head throbbed lightly, and your memories were fuzzy around the edges. Kento, ever thoughtful, had left a glass of water and some aspirin on the table beside you.
"Rough night?" he asked from the kitchen, his voice steady but carefully neutral as he busied himself making coffee.
You groaned, rubbing your temples. "What did I even say last night? I barely remember anything."
He hesitated, his hand tightening briefly on the handle of the coffee pot. He looked over at you, your half-asleep face free of the weight of your drunken confessions. For a moment, he considered saying something, but the words got caught in his throat.
"Nothing too embarrassing," he said instead, forcing a faint smile.
You laughed, your cheeks reddening slightly. "Good. I’d hate to think I made a fool of myself in front of you."
Kento gave a small nod, but his heart felt heavy. You didn’t remember, and he couldn’t bring himself to remind you. Not like this. So, he lets himself break apart. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t let you have guilt. Because if he did, how is that loving you?
So Nanami Kento buried those words, locking them away where they couldn’t touch the fragile balance between you. He told himself it was better this way. But he hopes, maybe one day — just one day. You’ll see him too. Sober with your love for him.
══════════════════
THINGS DID CHANGE A BIT WHEN YOU WENT TO COLLEGE. Of course, you both got into the same university. But there’s a rough difference between not only being in different departments, but also being in different campuses. It was a rough travel back and forth. But Nanami Kento was determined to go and visit you.
You often feel a little bad when you look back on those days. Engineering classes were no joke. Too many long hours, grueling projects, and the constant pressure to keep up left you drained most of the time.
You barely had the energy to go out, even when you wanted to. But Kento never minded. He understood in the quiet, steady way that only he could, and instead of waiting for you to have time, he made sure to visit you instead.
It didn’t matter where for him. Whether it was the bustling campus lunch hall, where the two of you would share a plate of something warm while you tried to finish an assignment, or your dorm room, which was always a little messy with textbooks and half-drunk cups of coffee.
What mattered to him wasn’t the place or even what you were doing. What mattered was just being with you.
And that thought? It never fails to make your heart skip a beat. Even now, after everything, it feels just as special as it did back then. You still held dearest to him after all this time. Ever since you were kids, you were his everything. And you were sure, more than ever now, that he was yours too. In all sense of the word.
It’s been a year and a half since that time, since you confessed to Kento. Well, technically, drunk you confessed to him. It was late, and you’d had just enough to drink to make your heart bolder than your brain. You didn’t want to say a word. And you think that Kento was just as much waiting for you to say something.
You were ready to die of embarrassment when you remembered that you had said that. But then you remembered, with just as much horror and embarrassment — he’d confessed too. With that same calm sincerity, he told you he’d felt the same way for a while.
Looking back, it was a little messy, maybe even a lot embarrassing. But it was also sweet, earnest, and so perfect for you two. And honestly? You wouldn’t change a thing. You had said something that clarified things for you.
After all, that drunken confession was the start of something that would make all the challenges of those days worth it, every late-night study session, every coffee-fueled conversation, every stolen moment in between. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.
You were falling for Kento more and more every day, and it was starting to feel like a problem. A big problem. How were you supposed to act normal around him when everything he did—from the way he fixed his tie to the way he said your name—made your heart do backflips?
It wasn’t fair, really. How was it possible that the same person who once laughed so hard he choked on a piece of rice during lunch was also the one making you reconsider your entire perception of love? He was your best friend, and now you couldn’t even look at him without overthinking every little thing.
And to make matters worse, he was visiting you today.
You had approximately 15 minutes to get your life together before Kento arrived, which was nowhere near enough time to deal with the tornado that was your dorm room or the emotional hurricane swirling inside you.
“Okay, okay, calm your tits.” you muttered to yourself, grabbing stray socks off the floor. “Just play it cool. It’s just Kento. You know him best. Real well. He’s been here a million times. No big deal. Totally normal.”
You shoved a pile of notebooks into your desk drawer, praying it wouldn’t jam, and quickly rearranged the pillows on your bed. By the time you heard the knock at your door, your dorm was passable, well barely. And you were mostly sure you didn’t look like a total disaster.
When you opened the door, there he was, Nanami Kento in all of his huge handsome stature, standing there with his usual calm demeanor, holding a bag of snacks. You yelped quietly as you looked at him. Your roommates must have let him inside.
“Thought you might need these.” he said, giving you one of those small, knowing smiles that made your brain short-circuit.
You blinked at him. “Nanami Kento, are you a psychic?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No, but you texted me at 2 AM complaining about running out of your favorite chips, so I figured this might help. You still have some paperwork to do, right? And you won’t eat unless I come by to remind you. So, I got it.”
“Oh.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more like a nervous croak. “Right. Thanks. You’re, uh…you’re a hero.”
He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room. “Did a tornado hit your room? It was clean last time I came by.”
“What? No!” You crossed your arms defensively. “I cleaned! Mostly.”
Kento gave you a skeptical look before setting the bag of snacks on your desk. “If this is what ‘clean’ looks like to you, remind me never to see it messy.”
You threw a pillow at him, and he caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Careful. That’s my best throw pillow. If you damage it, I’ll charge you emotional damages.”
“Noted, little miss engineer.” he replied, setting the pillow down with exaggerated care. “What’s the rate for emotional damages these days?”
“Depends. How many snacks did you bring?”
“Enough to keep you from suing me.” He tells you with a grin. “Still have some in my car, just in case you wanted more.”
The two of you laughed, and for a moment, it felt like old times. A little bit easy, comfortable, effortless. But then, as Kento sat down on the edge of your bed, something in your chest tightened. How had this annoying, perfect, infuriatingly kind man become someone you couldn’t stop thinking about? Someone you don’t think you could live without?
He looked up at you, tilting his head slightly. “What’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face?”
“What? No!” You blinked rapidly, your cheeks heating. “I was just—uh—zoning out. Engineering stuff. Very complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Right, right.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m definitely not the one who helped you with that last project.”
“Details, details, Nanami Kento. Don’t get bogged down in the details.”
He chuckled, and the sound was so warm and familiar that you almost forgot why you were freaking out in the first place. Almost. Kento takes a moment. He then looks at you as though examining you with careful abandon. Kento wanted to take in the sight of you, after not seeing you for a while.
“You’re weird today, do you know that?” he said, leaning back slightly. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, totally fine. Super fine.” You waved a hand dismissively. “Just tired, you know? Engineering. It’s a grind.”
Kento studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
Your stomach flipped, and you forced a laugh. “Who, me? No way. I’m like…a professional liar. Best in the business.”
“Uh-huh.” He hums back in retort.
He didn’t press further, but the way he looked at you. Everything about his caramel gaze was gentle, understanding, like he already knew what you weren’t saying. Everything about it, everything about him made your heart squeeze.
You sighed internally. How were you supposed to handle this? You couldn’t just blurt out, “Hey, Kento, I think I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me absolutely insane!”
But as he opened the bag of snacks and handed you your favorite, you couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he already knew that you knew. And that maybe he knew that you felt deeply about him. You sighed. Maybe you’re just imagining it.
As the minutes ticked by, Kento made himself right at home in your dorm, sitting cross-legged on your bed and munching on the snacks he’d brought. Meanwhile, you had plopped into your desk chair, scrolling on your phone under the pretense of “taking a break.”
But in reality, you were desperately trying to distract yourself from the way he looked way too good just casually existing in your space. How could he look that good even as a law major? How can he have time to make your heart feel like this?
As you flicked through your social media feed, you stumbled upon a post that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. It was a picture—Kento, smiling (smiling!) with a group of classmates, apparently from earlier that day. Some of them were girls. Really pretty girls. Those really pretty preppy law girls!
Your first thought was When does Kento even smile like that? He never smiles like that around me!
Your second thought was Who’s the one leaning so close to him? Is she, like, whispering in his ear or something?
You shot a quick, subtle glance at him. He was still on your bed, completely unaware of the emotional spiral you were going through. He crunched on a chip like it was the most normal day in the world.
“Did you have fun today?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Kento raised an eyebrow. “Uh…what?”
“Today. You were with…people from your department.” you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
His brow furrowed toward you slightly. “I mean, yeah, I had a class project meeting. It was fine. Why?”
“Oh, no reason.” you said, voice a little too high-pitched. Fuck, you were too obvious. You looked back at your phone, scrolling furiously to hide your face. “Just…wondering. Looked fun.”
“Wait.” Kento’s tone shifted. Suddenly you felt his gaze on you. “How do you know about that?”
Your heart dropped. “Uh, I saw it. Online. A picture. No big deal!”
There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. “Are you…jealous?”
“What?!” Your head whipped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Me? Jealous? Of what? Why would I be jealous?”
Kento’s lips quivered into a rare, brat–like smirk, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “No reason at all.” he said smoothly. “Just seems like you’re a little…interested in what I’m doing when I’m not here.”
“Interested? Pfft, no. I was just—just checking to make sure you’re not hanging out with the wrong crowd.” you stammered, flailing for a decent excuse. “You know, bad influences. Peer pressure. That sort of thing.”
“Right, I see.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m the type to fall victim to peer pressure.”
“Well, I don’t know that part of your life right now!” you snapped, feeling your face heat up. “Maybe one of those girls was trying to…to make you join a pyramid scheme or something!”
Kento leaned back on your bed, folding his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know.”
“I’m not hiding anything!” you shot back, spinning your chair around so you didn’t have to look at him.
There was a rustle of movement, and then suddenly, he was right behind you, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. You could feel your ears redden at the feeling of him. You squeaked, loud enough for him to hear.
“You’re really bad at lying, too. How come you haven’t evolved at lying? It’s been years and somehow, you’re still bad at it.” he said softly, his voice just teasing enough to make your heart race.
You spun around to face him, glaring. “Okay, fine! Maybe I was a little jealous. Are you happy now?”
Kento blinked, clearly surprised by your sudden outburst. But then, to your absolute horror, he started laughing—actual, full-on laughing. He hadn’t expected for you to just come out and say it like that. You were a prideful little flower, you always have been.
“You’re laughing at me?!” you cried, swatting at his arm.
“I’m not laughing at you, you know.” he said, still chuckling. “I just didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”
“Well, I did!” You crossed your arms, trying to look annoyed even as your face burned. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Kento’s laughter softened into a small, fond smile, and for a moment, the teasing disappeared. He didn’t know how much he missed you until now. Somehow, the world seemed like it was in proper orbit when he’s with you like this.
“Nothing, nothing.” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Because you don’t need to be jealous. If I wanted to spend my time with anyone else, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting as he straightened up and walked back to the bed like he hadn’t just casually wrecked you with one sentence. You looked away, crossing your arms as though to shield yourself from him. But he could still see the redness of your ears.
“Well….” you muttered under your breath, plopping dramatically onto your desk. “Now I’m jealous of myself.”
Kento paused mid-bite of a chip and turned to you with an amused look. “What was that?”
“Nothing!” you said quickly, sitting up straight like you hadn’t just been caught having an existential crisis.
But of course, Kento being Kento, he wasn’t about to let it slide. “No, no, go ahead.” he said, his smirk returning as he leaned back against the headboard. “Explain how you’re jealous of yourself. This, I have to hear.”
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Forget I said anything. It’s dumb.”
“I doubt that at all.” he replied, his tone annoyingly smug. “But fine, I’ll drop it. For now.”
You peeked at him through your fingers, only to find him watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something that made your heart flip all over again. You wanted to throw a pillow at him or maybe yourself—just to get rid of the growing warmth in your chest.
Instead, you grabbed the bag of chips from the desk and walked over to him, shoving it into his hands. “Here. Eat some of the snacks and stop psychoanalyzing me.”
“I wasn’t psychoanalyzing you.” he said, popping another chip into his mouth. “But you’re making it very tempting.”
“Unbelievable, Kento.” you muttered, plopping down onto the bed beside him. “This is why I can’t stand you sometimes, you know that?”
“Uh-huh.” He glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “So much so that you admitted to being jealous of people spending time with me. Makes perfect sense.”
You huffed, grabbing a handful of chips just to give your hands something to do. “Okay, fine, you got me. I was a little jealous. Big deal. You’re my best friend. It’s normal to feel weird about you hanging out with other people, right?”
“Is it?” he asked, his voice teasing but his eyes studying you closely.
“Yes!” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Because we’re close. And I don’t like sharing, okay? You’ve known that since we met!”
“Hmm, hmm.” he said thoughtfully, leaning a little closer. “So what you’re saying is, you want me all to yourself?”
You choked on your chip, coughing violently as Kento sat back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You—ugh! Don’t say things like that!”
“Why not? I’m just repeating what you said to me.” he replied innocently.
“That is not what I said!”
“Sounded like it to me.”
You glared at him, your face burning. “You’re the worst.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, smiling slightly. “But I’m your worst.”
And just like that, you were done for. Completely, utterly done for. You threw a pillow at him once again. Because what else could you do to him like that? He wasn’t wrong. Sure enough, he caught it effortlessly, laughing rather softly as he set it down beside him.
“Stop overthinking about it.” he said after a moment, his tone quieter now. “I’m here because I want to be. No one else matters, okay?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” he said simply, reaching into the chip bag again like he hadn’t just made your heart implode for the second time that evening.
And you sat there, staring at him like an idiot, thinking that maybe, just maybe, falling for him wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.
══════════════════
IT WAS ONE OF THE RARE OPPORTUNITIES WHERE YOU HAD A DAY OFF. So of course, you took the time to call Kento and ask him to hang out with you. And as usual, all he had said was that short, sure yes and nothing more.
He’d pick you up in thirty minutes, like usual. And of course, Nanami Kento was never late. If anything, he was always ten minutes early. He couldn’t have you waiting, after all.
The bar was warm and lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You and Kento had decided to spend your day off together, and while the original plan had been something low-key like a café or a bookstore, somehow you’d ended up here, nursing a drink and trying to act normal around him.
He’d never been here before, but he saw it from across the road and if the cafe or bookstore was closed — an afternoon at a bar wasn’t going to be a bad idea for college kids wanting to have some adventure beyond the campus walls.
Normal. Just normal. Yeah, act like you do. Well, whatever normal looks like to you now.
You could only mentally sigh as your peripheral was only stuck on him more than usual.
As if that was possible when you were utterly, hopelessly in love with the man sitting across from you.
Kento, of course, looked effortlessly composed, like he always did—leaning back in his seat, one hand resting on the table, the other holding his drink. He wasn’t a flashy guy, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made it impossible not to stare. And you were staring. Again.
“You’re staring at me again.” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.
“I am not!” you shot back, quickly taking a sip of your drink to cover up your flustered state.
“You’ve been doing it all evening.” he continued, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”
“No, no.” you muttered, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “I was just…zoning out. Thinking about…stuff.”
“Stuff. You sure….about stuff as an excuse?” he repeated, his tone skeptical.
“Yes, stuff.” you said firmly, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He chuckled softly, and you were both annoyed and utterly charmed by the sound. Why did he have to be so effortlessly perfect? It wasn’t fair. You hated how good he is at being everything you love. As you tried to regain your composure, a voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Hey there, sweetie–pie.” a man said, sliding up to your table with a confident grin. “Mind if I join you?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…”
Before you could say anything else, the man pulled up a chair and sat down, clearly not waiting for permission. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. You felt disgusted by the way he looked at you. He wasn’t your type at all. And moreover, he’s creepy as hell.
“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.” he said smoothly. “You’ve got a great smile.”
“Um, thanks?” you said awkwardly, glancing at Kento.
Kento’s expression didn’t change much, but there was a subtle shift in his posture. He sat up a little straighter, his jaw tightening just slightly. Kento’s eyes were glaring hard enough that you could find those eyes were blades cutting you whole.
“So, what’s your name?” the guy asked, ignoring Kento entirely.
You opened your mouth to answer, but Kento beat you to it.
“She’s not interested in you.” he said flatly, his voice calm but with an edge that made the guy pause.
The man glanced at Kento, raising an eyebrow. “And you are?”
“Person she’s with.” Kento replied smoothly, though his tone made it clear that he wasn’t just a friend. “Who also happens to know she’s too polite to tell you to leave, so I’ll do it for her. What else are you waiting for? Leave.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Was Kento…jealous?
The man hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to push back, but something about Kento’s steady gaze seemed to make him think twice. With a shrug, he stood up. He wasn’t going to get anything out of you. Lest he wants to get bitten by a tiger waiting to eat him. Well, at least he’s smart about that.
“Alright, alright. No need to get territorial.” He winked at you before walking away.
You shuddered at his wink.
Have men always been weird?
You shake it off quickly, drinking your pint.
You turned to Kento, your cheeks burning. “Territorial? Really?”
Kento shrugged, taking a sip of his drink like nothing had happened. “He was bothering you. I handled it.”
“I could’ve handled it myself, you know.” you said, crossing your arms.
“I’m sure you could’ve.” he replied, setting his glass down. “But I didn’t feel like watching you pretend to be polite to someone who clearly couldn’t take a hint.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe.” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “But at least you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
You huffed, turning back to your drink. But as you took a sip, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kento’s gaze lingered on you, softer now, like he was trying to gauge your reaction. You drink your pint once again in some somber silence.
“Was that really necessary?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Yes.” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You glanced at him, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again. “Why?”
Kento held your gaze for a long moment before replying. “Because I don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they can have what’s mine.”
Your brain short-circuited. “W-what?”
He didn’t elaborate, just leaned back in his chair with that same calm composure, as if he hadn’t just wrecked your entire evening with one casual sentence. You stared at him, utterly flustered and more in love than ever, wondering how on earth you were supposed to survive the rest of the night without completely losing your mind.
For the rest of the night, Kento didn’t let you out of his sight. He was subtle about it at first—the way he leaned in whenever someone walked by, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair. But as the minutes passed, it became glaringly obvious: Kento was on high alert, and every glance from a stranger only made his protective aura grow stronger.
When a group of guys walked by your table and one dared to look at you a second too long, Kento’s hand dropped from the chair to your shoulder, the weight of it warm and grounding. He didn’t even glance at the guy, his focus entirely on you, but the message was clear: Don’t even try it. Back off.
You tried to act normal, but it was impossible. Sitting beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you were acutely aware of every little thing about him—the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms, the way his voice dropped into a lower register whenever he spoke to you.
“You’re quiet again.” he said, his voice low as he leaned a fraction closer.
“I’m fine, Kento. Really.” you mumbled, staring into your drink to avoid looking at him.
“Liar.” he murmured, his tone edged with amusement. “You’ve been squirming all night.”
“I have not!” you protested, but the way your voice cracked didn’t help your case.
Kento just smirked, and that was the last straw. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Not alone, you’re not.” he said immediately, rising from his seat with an ease that made you want to throw something.
“What, are you my bodyguard now?” you snapped, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his possessive tone.
“If that’s what it takes, then yes.” he said simply, his gaze steady and unyielding.
Before you could argue, he took your hand—firm, unrelenting—and led you toward the exit.
“Kento, the bathroom’s that way.” you pointed out, trying to tug your hand free.
“We’re leaving.” he said without looking back.
“Wait, what? Why?”
“Because I’m done watching people think they can look at you like you’re up for grabs.” he said, his voice calm but with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.
Your protests died in your throat. Nanami Kento rarely raised his voice or lost his composure, but there was something in his tone now. It was something raw and unmistakable. And every bit of it just left you speechless.
The car ride was silent, tension thick in the air. When he pulled into a quiet, empty lot, he turned off the engine and finally looked at you. His gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you.
“Kento, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You.” he said, his tone low and rough. “You’re what’s going on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit there and pretend I’m okay with watching other people look at you like they have a chance?”
Your breath hitched. “I… I didn’t think you—”
“Didn’t think I’d care?” he interrupted, leaning closer. “Didn’t think I’d notice? God, you drive me insane, you know that?”
“Kento…”
“You’re mine.” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’ve always been mine. You always have been since we were kids. I just didn’t want to scare you off by saying it out loud again.”
Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I— I….I know.” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I thought you wouldn’t say it again and I just…maybe with time passing… I thought I was the only one now.”
His lips curled into a dark, almost predatory smile. “You’re not. Never. Not when I’ve marked you since we met at that playground when we were kids.”
Before you could process his words, Kento leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was animalistic, it was wanton. It was full of possessiveness, claiming, as if he were branding the truth into you.
You matched his intensity, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, and any hesitation you’d felt earlier melted away, replaced by a burning need that had been building for far too long.
He broke away just long enough to murmur against your lips, “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute.
“You belong with me.”
You looked at him with your doe like eyes. “I belong with you.”
“Good.” he growled, pulling you into his lap without hesitation. His hands gripped your waist firmly, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “Because I’m done holding back.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you whispered, “Then don’t.”
And he didn’t.
══════════════════
YOU DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS HUNGRY FOR YOU. But with the way he’s going at it. Kento has been hungry for you for a very long time. Kento’s lips linger, soft and insistent, as if savoring every inch of your skin.
The warmth of his breath trails higher, leaving behind a delicate ache where his mouth was. His hands rest firmly on your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.
“You’re trembling.” he murmurs, his voice a rich baritone, teasing but laced with tenderness. He looks up, his gaze heavy with desire, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he speaks. “Do I make you nervous?”
A shaky laugh escapes your lips, betraying your composure. “Not nervous... just—” Your words cut off as he presses another kiss, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
“Just what?” he asks, his tone low and deliberate, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. His hands slide upward, thumbs drawing small circles that make your heart race.
“Kento.” you breathe his name like a plea, your voice catching as he moves closer, the space between you charged with electricity.
The dim glow of the streetlamp filters through the windshield, casting golden lines across his sharp features. The intimacy of the confined space amplifies every touch, every sound between the two of you in these leather seats. The soft rustle of fabric, the quiet hum of his breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh.
“I love when you say my name like that, you know?” he says, voice dark and velvety. His mouth moves with purpose now, leaving faint marks of love on your skin, each one deliberate, each one staking his claim. “I love hearing it like that. Wanton f’r me.”
You gasp, your head falling back against the car seat, fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently. He groans at the sensation, the sound sending heat coursing through you. How has he ever been this good at getting under your skin?
“I want to hear more from you.” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a mix of command and yearning. His lips hover for a moment, teasing you with their proximity. “But only if you’re ready.”
Kento’s lips trail higher, each kiss softer yet more possessive, leaving warmth that lingers long after his mouth moves on. He pauses for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as his hands tighten slightly on your thighs, his thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles.
“Don’t hold back your noises from me, okay?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver racing through you. He looks up, his golden-brown eyes locking with yours, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I want to hear you clearly.”
The command in his tone makes your pulse quicken. You bite your lip, but the sound escapes anyway, a soft, breathy whimper that only seems to spur him on. Kento’s touch made you feel as though a thousand flames were burning all at once.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and he chuckles darkly when your hips shift involuntarily toward him.
“Kento.” you gasp, your voice trembling with both restraint and longing.
“Hm?” he hums against your skin, the vibration sending a jolt straight through you. “I told you—no holding back.”
His hands glide upward, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth continues its slow, maddening journey lower and lower. You could feel your lips mutter a weak groan against him.
The dim light of the streetlamp catches the sheen of his messy blond hair, illuminating the faint smile on his lips as he drinks in every reaction you give him. The intimacy of the moment wraps around you both, the world outside the car fading entirely.
“Kento, please.” you whisper, your voice raw with need, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He pauses, his lips hovering just above your skin, his breath ghosting over you. He takes in the sight of you, almost as though a hunter to a prey. Nanami Kento is your hunter, he always has been. And he’s been keeping this inside him for way too long. This desire, for you. Only you.
“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.” he murmurs, his tone dark and full of promise, before pressing another kiss, softer this time, but no less consuming.
Kento’s words hang in the air, thick with authority and desire, as his lips return to your skin with renewed purpose. He’s slow, methodical, as if every kiss, every graze of his teeth is a language only he can speak—and you’re utterly fluent in his meaning.
“Such sweet sounds from you, hm?” he murmurs against your thigh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through you. “Don’t hold them back from me. Let me hear what I do to you.”
Your breath hitches, a soft moan slipping past your lips, and the way his lips curl into a grin tells you he’s satisfied—but not done. His hands are firm but gentle as they slide further up your inner thighs, fingers brushing dangerously close to where you want him most.
His touch sets your skin alight, the heat pooling low in your stomach as your chest rises and falls in uneven rhythm. You could feel his long fingers making their journey to that space, their cool touch melting you whole in a pleasurable moan.
“Kento.” you whisper, barely able to find your voice, your hands trembling as they clutch at the seat beneath you.
He glances up, his caramel eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlight streaming through the windshield, giving him an almost otherworldly allure. His gaze is dark, hungry, but there’s a softness there too. There was that endless reverence in the way he looks at you, as though you’re something precious.
“Yes, my love?” he asks, his voice laced with feigned innocence, though the smirk pulling at his lips betrays him. Your heart drummed at your new nickname from him. It was real. You were lovers. Doing what lovers do. “Tell me what you need. I want to hear it.”
You let out a shaky exhale, your fingers threading into the lower depths of sandy blond undercut for stability as much as desperation. Slowly, it trailed down on his neck, your touch sleuthing through him. Temptingly, almost like a wanting vixen.
“I need you… closer.” you admit, voice breaking, the vulnerability of the words making heat rise to your cheeks.
Kento hums in approval, the sound low and pleased at your words. He leans closer and his fingers echo deeper and deeper into you. Your head throws back hard against the leather’s pristine touch. He playfully moves inside. One moment in a circle. One moment a thrust. Over and over again, rinse and repeat, force and pleasure. And all you could do was surrender.
“Good girl of mine, my love.” he murmurs, his praise sending a wave of warmth coursing through you.
That had surely made you even more wet inside. His lips press higher against your jaw, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He continues on and on. You don’t know where he learned it. How he got so good at knowing how to take you to paradise. BUt you could hardly care. You were focused on how deep his fingers were in you.
“You’re so beautiful like this, my love.” he continues, his voice velvet against the charged air. His hands grip your thighs tighter, pulling them apart just enough for him to settle more firmly between them. “Completely undone for me.”
A sound escapes you, part moan, part plea, and his response is immediate. There was a broken groan deep in his chest as he nuzzled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your whole body tremble and shake as he rushed more and more, in and out, with his masterful fingers.
“That’s it. Go on, my love.” he breathes, his voice dark, dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go for me, honey. No one else is here. Just us. Just me and the way you fall apart under my touch.”
The world outside the car feels impossibly distant now. The soft flicker of the streetlamp, the faint hum of passing cars. It’s all drowned out by the thrum of your heartbeat and the way Kento’s lips, and his fingers worship every part of you they touch, in and out.
“Kento, Kento.” you gasp again, your voice a desperate whisper.
His name on your lips seems to be his motivation, pushing more and more as his fingers tighten inside of you as he shifts closer, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming. You could only feel your tears rush in pleasurable waterfalls on your cheek.
“Say it again, my love.” he demands softly, his lips grazing the edge of your hip. “Say my name like that again.”
And when you do, your voice trembling and raw, and broken — he lets out a sound that’s pure need, his control slipping as he loses himself in you entirely. His fingers dug deeper and deeper until they couldn’t anymore. Your slick brushing through his fingers as he repeats it over and over again.
Kento’s name spills from your lips again, breathless and aching, and he growls softly against your skin. There was a sound that sent a ripple of heat straight to your core. You cry out loudly as you come undone on his touch, so hard that you see stars.
“You’re trembling so much, my love.” he murmurs, his voice molten and rich. “Is it because of me, hm?”
His fingers slowly exit through your crevices, slick and full of you. He looks satisfied with the mess he made of you. It doesn’t matter if you pool your pleasure on his leather seats. The sight was satisfying to look at. Because you’re his. And this was proof.
Your answer is a shaky exhale, your head falling back against the seat as your hazy gaze saw him slowly eat at the slick of your pleasure. You had just come undone from his touch and now you could feel yourself wanting more. You were wanton for more. Only he could make you feel this way.
“Words in full, my love.” he coaxes, his tone teasing but firm. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes, Kento.” you admit, voice breaking as you finally surrender to his command. “It’s you—only you.It’s always been you.”
And with that, he kisses you as he finds himself wanting more of you, as much as you wanted more of him. You gave him everything, and he gave you everything. You wanted to be whole, consumed by the existence of the other.
The air thickens with desire as his touch shifts from lingering to deliberate, the rhythm between you growing more urgent.�� You brace yourself, your body trembling in anticipation, and then, with a careful, controlled movement, he enters you.
A sharp inhale catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. You gasp, every inch of him stretching you, pushing you to the edge of something deeper, something more consuming. Your body trembles in the wholeness of him.
He began to move at a slow pace and then soon enough, with that eager speed. Your legs crossed against his back, and your arms crossed against his shoulders. You could only hold on for dear life as he pushes in and out of you in a pace that took your breath away.
Every inch of him stretches you, each motion slow yet intentional, designed to leave you breathless, wanting more. Kento’s gaze never leaves yours, intense and searching, as though he’s reading the unspoken desires written in the way your body responds. The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse quicken, your limbs aching with the need to surrender to him entirely.
Everything felt so good.
He made you feel good.
Only he could do it like this.
"Are you okay?" His voice is low, almost reverent, as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.
There’s a softness in his caramel eyes, a tenderness beneath the storm of desire that mirrors the vulnerability you feel. His breath is heavy, and yet there’s a careful concern in his touch, as if he's trying to read you, to make sure you're ready for what comes next.
You nod, but words fail you, the overwhelming sensations clouding your ability to speak. Every inch of your being is attuned to him now, to the heat of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing.
You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, yet all that fills your senses is him. The scent of him, the taste of his skin, the press of his chest against yours. Your slick blending against his own. It was all consuming. How you both fit together. How you were made for each other.
"More, Kento." you whisper, the word barely audible but laced with desperation. It’s not just a plea. No, you were saying it as it is. “Faster.”
You needed him. Every bit of him, every part of him. You wanted it all. The craving in your voice is clear, raw, and unfiltered. The desire that had been simmering between you both is now an undeniable force, impossible to resist.
His lips curl into a small, knowing smile, and something in his gaze shifts, darkens. Without breaking eye contact, he presses forward again, moving with an intensity that speaks of his own growing hunger. His movements are deliberate and calculated, even with the speed he was going at.
It was as if he was savoring every inch, every moment with you. Each stroke is measured, calculated, and yet there's an undercurrent of urgency, as though he's trying to pull you deeper into him, deeper into this shared space where only the two of you exist.
His gaze is intense, a silent communication passing between you both. It's not just about the way he moves or the way he touches you. Everything about it felt like magic. It's how he reads every subtle shift in your body, every small intake of breath, every whisper of need.
He’s attuned to you in a way that goes beyond words, understanding the unspoken pleas you can't voice. It’s like he knows you better than you do yourself. It’s like he’s memorized every part of you. He just knew how to love you whole, completely.
You cried out as he hit that pleasure spot, in and out. The car windows were fogging up with the hot breath echoing out of your lips over and over again. You were certain that just as much, people had noticed the car shaking and rearing with activity at the stop. It was too obvious to see.
The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse race, that quickens the rhythm of your heart. You feel it in the way your body responds, how the pressure inside you grows with every shift, every stroke, until it feels like the world is narrowing down to just the two of you. You both were lost in this rhythm of connection, of craving, of surrender. This was all that there was, this universe of you, together.
Your body aches with the need to give in completely, to let him take you fully, to become lost in the feeling of him, of the shared moment. He looked at you and leaned forward, letting his lips take yours. His tongue pushes through against your own in a delicious melee of pleasure. You hummed against his lips as his thrusts got deeper, faster. More desperate.
When he parts from you to gather air in his lungs, he slows for a bit and pulls out, earning a whine. But then in a steady shock, he pushes back in, his hands straying to your back, pulling you closer to him. It was as though he wanted you to melt and blend with his flesh. To become one. He thrusts deeper and deeper, harsher than before. You cry out against his ear.
"Let go, my love." he murmurs, his voice a low, breathy whisper against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve got you."
There’s an assurance in his words, a promise that you can surrender, that he’ll be there to catch you, to guide you through whatever comes next. And with those words, everything inside you snaps. The tension, the anticipation, the desire.
Everything unravels in a wave of release, a deep, consuming surrender. You cry out so loud that you think that you were gasping for air for the first time. Nanami Kento hit on your body with a harsh desire last time and felt his own hot pleasure flow through you with a loud roar.
Your body trembles beneath his touch as you lose yourself in him, the rhythm of his movements pulling you deeper into the moment, into the raw intensity of it all. Your grip on him tightens involuntarily, fingers digging into the hardness of his skin, anchoring yourself to the sensation of him.
Each breath comes quicker, more erratic, as you struggle to keep up with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your eyes flutter closed, and a few tears escape, blurring your vision. But the tears are not from pain. They are from the overwhelming satisfaction, the complete surrender of everything you’d been holding back.
For a moment, you can’t see anything, your body entirely consumed by the sensations coursing through you. It’s like you’ve been plunged into a haze, where nothing exists but the pulse of his touch, the heat of his body against yours. You feel your senses heighten, every movement, every sound reverberating inside you, making your heart race.
And then, slowly, your sight begins to return. Everything is foggy, distorted at first, the edges of the world softened by the force of your pleasure. But as the fog clears, everything sharpens, every detail comes into focus.
And in that moment, it feels like you’ve stepped into something infinite. The universe itself is laid bare before you, and standing at the center of it all, consumed by the same overwhelming force, is him. Everything felt like enlightenment. Life started here.
Kento’s eyes are locked onto yours, dark and intense, holding you captive with every glance, every word unspoken. His face, usually so composed, is now etched with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction, his own breath coming in ragged pulls. You are drawn to him, to the way he fills every corner of your mind, your heart, your body.
"You're... breathtaking, my love." he murmurs, his voice rough, barely audible as he moves against you, his hands cradling your face gently. "So beautiful, at this moment."
The words make your heart ache, the vulnerability in his tone striking you deeply. Your gaze never wavers from his, even as the pleasure inside you begins to coil again, threatening to pull you under once more. It’s not just his touch, not just the way he moves inside you. It’s the way he sees you, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one who matters in the world.
"You’re mine. You always will be." you whisper, your voice trembling with the truth of it. The words come from somewhere deep, primal, raw. You don’t even know where they’ve come from, only that they’re true.
“Am I really?” He snickers, pecking at your jaw with small peppering kisses with exhaustion.
You nodded shyly, smiling at him. "I need you... like this. Always."
Kento smiles at your confession. His grip tightens around you, his lips pressing against your forehead in a soft kiss, almost reverent. For a moment, it was like he’d fallen in love with you again for the very first time again.
"And you have me, my love." he responds, his voice low and full of promise. "All of me. Always."
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#kento x reader#kento x y/n#kento x you#kento nanami smut#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#jjk smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#kayu writes ! ! !
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This is my cat.
His name is Eddie Potato.
Eddie Potato came home with us from the animal shelter in January (so about 9 months ago, now). He was around five years old, and had been living on the street before he was picked up by the cops and brought to the state run shelter (my boy was arrested for loitering). When we met him, he was sick, mite-infested, and covered in matted fur, scratches, and bites: but he was also very sweet, and very friendly, and he was already fixed, so we knew he must have once had a home with some loving humans.
[Eddie at his first vet appointment, trying to hide behind a paper towel.]
We'll never know what Eddie's first family was like, of course: but within a couple of weeks of adopting him, we were able to make a few guesses. He was happy to be pet, and calm about being picked up: but the only way he had to let us know that he'd like us to stop petting him was to swat our hands away, claws out. He'd then watch us, very closely, a little tense; like he was either expecting to be scolded for scratching, or expecting us to try to touch him again.
This told us that he had an affectionate family, but maybe not one that respected his boundaries. Maybe it was a family with kids, or maybe just a loving but pushy owner.
He's a medium-to-long haired cat, so he needs a bit of grooming to stay hygienic around his, let's say, pants area. I bought some quality clippers and a pet grooming electric razor. The clippers he was completely calm about: he let me trim the mats out of his fur very calmly, even the ones behind his ears.
The razor terrified him. I mean, he knew what it was on sight. He was sitting next to me on the couch when I took it out of the box, and the moment he saw it, his ears went back; he crouched low and fearful; and then jumped down and ran out of the room.
Okay; so his first family groomed him, or took him to a groomer, that was obvious: and it was probably a 'hold him down and get it over with' kind of experience, given how frightened he was.
He was very sweet, and very gentle - except when he wanted you to stop petting him. This was a cat who expected kindness, who believed that the humans around him were his friends: but he'd learned that his friends wouldn't listen to him when he told them to stop unless he drew a little bit of blood.
We just thought: wow, this cat is a really good communicator. He is being, like, so clear.
Eddie Potato is a very stupid boy - uncommonly stupid, even for a cat - so we prepared ourselves for it to take a while for him to learn that things had changed. We paid very close attention to him while we were petting him for the signs leading up to that swat, and we got better and better at stopping before the swat ever came.
I let him get used to the razor very slowly: for the first week, I just set it next to his food bowl at dinner time, about a foot away, so he could see it while he was at his happiest. For the next week, I'd pick up the razor, and move it around while he ate. The week after that, I turned it on for a few seconds, so he could start to get used to the noise. The week after that, it went on for most of his meal time, and I moved it around his body while I pet him: so he could start to associate the razor sound with nice touching.
Then I groomed him. And he was - fine. A little bit antsy, but fine. Happily munching away at his dinner while I neatened up his pantaloons. I usually only had about a minute before he made it clear that he wanted it to stop, but that was okay: I just groomed him for a minute or so for two or three days in a row, until the job was done.
After four months, Eddie Potato wasn't scared of the razor at all anymore.
And it broke my heart a little bit, because his first family had clearly loved him. And Eddie is a cat who needs to be groomed! And it had obviously always been a scary and stressful experience for him. But it didn't have to be! He just needed patience! Surely, if the people he had lived with before had known that he could learn to not be afraid in just a few months, they would have tried.
Teaching him that he didn't need to swat didn't take much longer. It was so clear that this was not a cat who wanted to hurt us. Once we got the hang of stopping before he got tired or stressed out by petting, the swatting went away completely.
What was so sweet was what he learned to do instead: when he was done with being pet, he started placing his big paws on my hand, and gently but firmly pushing it away.
"Oh, okay!" I'd say. "We're done!" and take my hand away. And he'd watch me, for two or three seconds: and then he'd start to purr like crazy, and push under my hand again.
He wanted to be pet. He just wanted to know that he could make it stop if he wanted to!
It's been months now since the last time Eddie swiped at either of us. Sometimes, he likes to play his little push-away game for ten or twenty minutes at a time! He rolls onto his back for a belly rub, and I do for a few minutes; then he pushes my hand away, and watches to make sure I listened; then he rolls onto his back again for more belly rubs. The whole time purring, purring, purring. Eddie loves his belly rubs, and he loves being listened to just as much.
I'm just so proud of him! He's had such a hard and scary year: losing his family, living on the street, ending up in a kill shelter, going to a strange new home with strange new people. And he still extended his friendship and trust to us, and let us show him that he doesn't need to be scared anymore, of razors or hands or thunderstorms or the sound of traffic. He's so dumb and so small and he's had so much happen to him, and now he gets exactly as much petting as he likes, and he isn't afraid to get his pantaloons trimmed.
Like. That's my little guy. I get to make sure he'll be okay from now on.
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aghhh man. i've been. doing barely any art lately.
#🔪.text#i haven't drawn anything in like 2 weeks#i started the year off strong#january i had a lot#february i did okay#and then it just went downhill from there huh#this combo of having so little energy lately + adhd meds that don't work as well as the old ones is. not good.#and i know part of this is because both my adopt shops on fr are closed and so is my art shop on pce#but that was something i knew i needed to do because i've not been in a good mental state for like.... most of the past several months#and i needed a break#and now time is just flying and it's been a lot longer than i thought it'd be#and i've been too busy to be able to. y'know. get that mental state actually looked at and shit#and try to get on some actual antidepressants or something#and so they're still closed and i am just. doing fuck all.#like i guess i'll draw again eventually??#everything is just all over the place right now#i think maybe i should at least try upping the dose on my vyvanse#maybe that'll be more effective#i still have some of my old pills left but i don't have those with me#my focus has just really not been great ever since switching#but i don't really have a choice in the matter because there's a shortage of shit right now#and this is all we can get#it just. does not work as well
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Yes Ma’am
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Plus!Size Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben, Hughie Campbell, William Butcher & Annie January
Summary: Macho Man Ben never thought he’d ever take orders from a woman; but now he does so with a smile (aka Ben is whipped and he doesn’t care)
Original Request: @spncupcake | I need a Soldier Boy &/or Dean fic where reader is plus sized + gives his attitude right back to him. He only ever listens to her & agrees with her every time. Basically just a whipped little puppy. Everyone teases him, but he doesn’t care because his girl/reader is all he needs 😭 I guess kinda like he’s an asshole to everyone but her kinda vibes 🥵
Not so subtly asking if @kaleldobrev could do this ? 🥺
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Ben, Cursing (13x), Derogatory Language (by Ben), Slightly Offensive Language (by Ben), Whipped!Soldier Boy, Domestic!Ben
Authors Note: Hopefully I got everyone tagged that wanted to be. If I missed you, I'm sorry! I'm working on re-doing the way my tag list is | I hope this came out okay! ♡ | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
A Few Years Ago…
“We need someone to watch Mister Radioactive over here,” Butcher said to you and Hughie. And almost as if it was second nature, Hughie whipped out his hands into a rock, paper, scissors stance; eyes on you, because he knew for a fact that it was either going to be you or him to watch Ben.
You turned your head slightly, watching Ben drinking out of a Seven merch cup, as he watched an old movie of his on the television; scoffing every few seconds every time a member of Payback appeared on screen.
“Can’t believe these are the bozos that gave me up to the Commies. They can’t even make their fucking cues,” he scoffed, mumbling to himself.
Turning back, you looked at Hughie and placed your hand on top of his, pushing it away. “I can do it. No need for rock, paper, scissors,” you said.
Both Butcher and Hughie looked at you with slight confusion. “Really?” The two men said at the same time, exchanging glances before ultimately landing on you.
“Are you at least going to take some Temp V just in case?” Hughie asked; but Butcher didn’t seem amused by his suggestion, as he gave him a very dirty, displeased look as if to say, ‘That is the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.’ “He could kill you.”
“I doubt that he would. I mean, look at him. He’s literally just watching one of his old cheesy movies. ‘Sides, I’m the only person he remotely listens to anyway,” your tone slightly smug in nature. But your comment caused Butcher to scoff. “What?”
“Sweetheart, he doesn’t listen to anyone,” he stated, not even trying to be covert.
You raised a brow. “Oh really?” You crossed your arms and smirked. “Hey Ben? Can you turn down the volume a bit? It’s a little loud,” you said, without even looking at him.
In a matter of seconds, Butcher and Hughie watched Ben pick up the remote that was next to him on the armrest as he slowly started turning down the volume. “Better?” He asked, unfazed.
“Yes, thank you,” you smiled.
Butcher scoffed. “I’m sure he’d turn it down if me or Hughie asked him to.”
“Then why don’t you give it a try to try and prove me wrong.” Your voice was smug, and your smirk remained, as you knew for an absolute fact that Ben wouldn’t listen to either one of them.
Butcher smacked Hughie, and pointed to Ben. “Um…hey, can you…can you turn that down?” Hughie asked nervously.
“Fuck off,” was all Ben said to Hughie’s request. His comment caused Butcher to roll his eyes.
“Fine. But don’t come crying to one of us when he ain’t listenin’ to ya,” Butcher smirked.
Present Day…
“Ben?” You asked, trying your best to reach the plate from the top shelf, but it was just out of your reach.
“Yeah?” Ben asked, faintly in the distance.
“Need your help! Can’t reach!” You yelled back.
Within a few seconds you heard Ben come walking into the kitchen from behind you; a faint scoff could be heard from his lips. “You’re so fucking short,” he commented. You turned around, and glared at him; and he knew exactly what that look from you meant. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not meaning his apology whatsoever. “Now scoot,” his tone a little demanding.
You moved over, and watched him effortlessly reach the plate from the top shelf, handing it to you with the biggest smirk on his face. As you went to reach for the plate, he snatched it quickly away. “What do you say?” He smirked; his comment causing your eyes to roll.
“Thank you,” you said, your tone matching his sorry. Again, you reached for the plate, and yet, he still kept it from your reach. “Oh, how could I ever forget!?” Your voice now sarcastic, with a mix of annoyance. You went onto your tippy toes to the best of your ability, and he leaned down a bit to reach your lips, where you were able to give him a quick peck.
“That’s better,” he winked, handing you the plate.
“Remember, Annie and Hughie are coming over later,” you reminded. You didn’t have to look in Ben’s direction to know how much he hated the idea of the two of them coming over. “It’ll be fun.”
“Fun for you, torture for me,” he said, walking back into the living room and plopping onto the couch.
“They aren’t that bad Ben,” you said as you went to lean in the doorway that was between the kitchen and the living room. “‘Sides, I thought the three of you were finally finding some common ground?”
Ben scoffed. “Common ground my ass,” he mumbled. “I hate them, and they hate me.”
“They don’t hate you Ben, you just think that they do,” you tried to reassure. And your reassurance was genuine as you knew that neither Annie or Hughie hated Ben. Yes, maybe they disliked him a bit cause he was still a Grade A asshole to anyone but you, but they do what friends do and have supported yours and Ben’s relationship because they know how happy not only you are, but Ben is even if he didn’t show it in front of them.
Ben didn’t even answer you, he just simply scoffed again. “Can you still do the ribs for tonight please? I mean I can do the grill, but I much prefer when you make them,” you said sweetly.
Ben rolled his eyes, sighing. “Yes, I can still do the fucking ribs.”
A Few Hours Later…
“Are you sure that it’s too late to cancel?” Hughie asked, as him and Annie shut their car doors at the exact same time.
“Yes, we promised Y/N weeks ago that we’d come over,” Annie said. “Besides, I even made my Nana’s pecan pie for the occasion because Y/N mentioned that Ben likes it.”
“If you’re hoping for brownie points with Solider Boy, I’m not sure pie is going to do it. Maybe we should have brought some expired Aspirin or coke from CIA lockup,” Hughie said half joking.
“Very funny,” Annie said very unamused by her fiancés comment. “I’m sure tonight won’t be that bad.”
“At least one of us is positive,” Hughie replied.
There was a knock at the door, and your face lit up with excitement. “Ben? Can you grab the door please? I’m taking the pie out of the oven!” You called out as you started opening up the oven door.
“Sure thing!” Ben called out in a weirdly good mood sounding voice that threw you off. Yes you’ve heard him in a good mood before (he’s basically always in a good mood whenever you were around), but you were surprised just now because Annie and Hughie weren’t particularly his favorite people (or so he says). But you shrugged it off, happy that maybe he changed his mind about them.
As soon as Ben opened the door, his once calm and cheerful mood diminished once he saw Annie and Hughie at the door. “Lite Brite. Pussy. Welcome,” Ben said, in the most monotone voice he could muster up.
“I brought my Nana’s pecan pie,” Annie smiled, showing Ben the foil wrapped container. “Heard it was your favorite.”
“Y/N already made one,” Ben scoffed. Annie lowered the container in a kind of defeated way before she looked over at Hughie.
“Thanks for having us.” Hughie tried his best to sound genuine, but he knew that Ben would be able to hear right through it.
“If it were up to me, neither one of you would be here.” Ben’s tone continued to be monotone.
“I’m gonna go see if Y/N needs any help,” Annie offered. But before she could even enter the doorway, Ben stopped her, and took the pie from her hands, giving her a small nod. Was that…approval? Annie thought. No, I must be delusional, she thought again.
As Annie managed to get past Ben after her pie was taken from her, it was Hughie’s turn to try and get inside, but Ben blocked the way. “Sorry, I don’t have a pie to offer you,” Hughie chuckled.
Ben fake laughed, and placed his hand on Hughie’s shoulder. “No problem, pal,” emphasizing the word as he gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.
“Ow,” Hughie mumbled.
“Fucking pussy,” Ben mumbled, before letting Hughie come into the house.
“So, what did he call you two this time?” You asked, grabbing two white claws from the fridge for you and Annie.
“Lite Brite and Pussy,” she slightly chuckled. “Not really creative.”
“Ben’s not really the creative type,” you laughed back.
“So, tell me, have you and Hughie set a wedding date yet?” You asked, and Annie smiled.
“So, we haven’t set a wedding date yet,” Hughie said, his voice nervous as he watched Ben start flipping through channels trying to find something to watch.
“And why the fuck are you telling me?” Ben asked, finally deciding on a hockey game to watch.
“I uh, I figured Y/N mentioned it to you,” his voice still nervous.
“She did,” was all Ben said, taking a sip of beer.
“Jesus Christ, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” Hughie mumbled to himself. “I’m gonna go see Y/N and Annie.”
“Alright lady boy,” Ben mumbled not so subtly.
“I’m O for two,” Hughie said as he walked into the kitchen where you and Annie were.
“What was the other one?” You asked.
“Lady Boy,” Hughie said, his voice weirdly calm.
“Well, that’s a new one,” you remarked, taking a sip of your white claw. “Ben?”
“What?” Ben asked, clearly annoyed.
“Did you call Hughie, Lady Boy?” You asked.
“Yeah, what about it? Is he crying about it already?” Ben asked, still unfazed; but you could hear a slight smirk on his lips.
“No, was just wondering,” you said.
That’s when Ben sighed. Because the only reason he knew you were asking, was because he somehow did or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But it wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend’s friend always took things the wrong way and didn’t have a sense of humor. “Sorry Puss—Hughie,” Ben said, saying Hughie’s name through gritted teeth.
After Ben apologized (fakely), you turned your attention back to Hughie. “I think that’s the best one you’re gonna get.”
“Pain in my fucking ass,” Ben mumbled.
“What did you say?” You asked, although you heard him loud and clear, as his mumbling and whispering really weren’t low.
“I said, you’re a pain in my fucking ass,” Ben said at normal volume.
You cleared your throat before you spoke. “Come again?” Your tone in full sass mode.
“Fucking Christ,” he mumbled. “I said I love you.”
“I love you too!” You smirked, finishing your white claw.
“Butcher was right. Soldier Boy really is whipped,” Hughie said with slight amusement in his voice.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Ben asked, his tone aggressive as he looked over at Hughie. Hughie’s demeanor now changed, and it resembled that of a scared puppy.
“N-nothing. I said nothing,” he answered quickly and nervously.
“That’s what I fucking thought,” Ben smirked, giving him a quick nod before looking back at the hockey game. “Four and zero, fucking unbelievable.”
“You didn’t say anything wrong. I really do have him wrapped around my finger,” you whispered to Hughie, even though you knew Ben was still able to hear you.
Tagging: @spncupcake | @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx | @pleasantlycrazyworld | @pichipachini | @deanwinchestersgirl8734 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @uncle-eggy | @zombie-freak | @queenie32 | @grx-deanslovr | @livingordeadwhoknows | @ficmesideways | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @roseblue373 | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms |
If I missed you, my apologies! I was either not able to tag you because the tumblr username is no longer the one you use when you submitted a tag form, or you do not have your mentions on. Please make sure you’re able to be tagged so you don’t miss anything you’d like to be tagged on! 💙 I also in the process of re-doing my tag list, so stay tuned for that!
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys#the boys imagine#the boys one shot#the boys oneshot#ben x you#ben x reader#reader insert#female reader#the boys amazon
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A happy colorful monster
Have you heard of My Pet Monster? It's a cartoon from 1986, which had one season (also apparently there's a live movie). You can stream it if you like. But for the purposes of this story, the most important fact is that the star was a very colorful smily, monster. And in January of last year, one of the cuddly plush versions was discovered in the back of a closet (so I guess he was a moonlighting as a closet monster?).
In any case, his original person found him, and wanted to gift him to his own daughters, but this monster had clearly had a rough time in the closet. Here is one of his diagnosis photos:
You can see the wound on his chest, and that his teeth are coming out. His feet and hands were vinyl, and had gotten that sticky feel that old vinyl sometimes gets.... and he needed a bath!
It took almost a year, but in December, the monster's family wrote again. Could we schedule treatment and an appointment for him?
Of course! The hospital was pretty full at the beginning of the year (not uncommon) so we scheduled his appointment for early March.
He arrived and the first step was a spa. He's quite large, so he got the large pink tub. :-)
Next he got restuffed, with a heart of original stuffing included ... who knows where his magic is stored, so it's important to keep at least a bit of original stuffing!
For his feet and hands, I can't replicate the printed nails on vinyl, but we didn't really want to do vinyl again anyway for the feel. So his person and I agreed to recover his feet and hands in new black velvet and then give him new nails from felt in the same teal as the originals. Here he is showing off his manicure and pedicure:
And here he is all better... even his fabric surrounding his tusks has been reglued:
and so he flew home to Colorado!
#my pet monster#1980s#1980s cartoons#stuffed animals#stuffed animal repair#stuffed animal hospital#stuffed animal cleaning#monsters#closet monster#monster toy#plush monster
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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 23/12✨
Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
@boonalina ha chiesto: Question: Why does Wukong's biblically accurate form have two faces? Also, was there some inspiration for you that made you want to design him like that? (Since I know he doesn't have any canonical Kaiju form in LMK) Also also, DAMN that Kaiju fight was so freaking pretty!! The colors were so well done!
thank you!! He has 3 actually, but in the panels you can see 2 bc the third is facing away from the camera aha.
Anonimo ha chiesto: would you make a Shadowpeach bio parents au zine?
yes I would. But it requires an enormeous amount of organization, plus you need multiple people to organize a zine, from contacting, to marketing, to production, to logistic etc��� I don’t have the time right now as I’m already working.
@stro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Head canon that Red Son uses/used to use the ‘rubber duck’ method while working. The rubber duck method is: when making something by yourself you may get stuck/stressed out because you can’t find a solution to a problem. Have a rubber duck on your desk just so you can verbally explain your problem, which could help you solve it by actually hearing it out loud. But a side effect of this is now Red Son will talk to himself while he works, even if it does help it still freaks his parents out hearing him mumbling to himself when they pass his room. Just something I learned recently when watching a video about writing a characters backstory 👍 I thought you might like this too! Bye <3
i know need Red Son just talking about project to a cute rubber duck and MK finding it adorable.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will LBD come back ? Even if it is just in a dream ?
maybe
Anonimo ha chiesto: how old is MK ? Like 18-21 ???
almost 22.
@haru7110 ha chiesto: IS MEI IMMORTAL LIKE MK AND REDSON IN THE SHADOWPEACH AU??? I NEED TO KNOW!! Fornoreasonwhatsoeverobviouslyhahahahaha (angst purposes)
no Mei is not immortal, but I would guess she has a lifespan slightly longer than average bc of her family.
@cutvdo ha chiesto: When you first draw Red Son in his human form he looked small, but later he looks bigger (probably from you getting more comfortable drawing him). I like to think he changed his human form a bit because he found out MK likes big man
this is the best conclusion ever. He would fr fr
Anonimo ha chiesto: Guess you could say MK got his own personal monkey tree
omfg-
@aizieweex ha chiesto: Hey Kyri!!! I LOVE your art, aaaand thanks for the recent repost of my animatic (or animatik?...I honestly don't know which is more correct, I'm not a native speaker at all), I literally screamed, lol (And still screaming). I wanted to ask, how many parts of the comic are you counting on? Do you already have a certain planned number of chapters? Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! How long will the shadow peach bio parents au be?
there will be 9 parts in total. I don’t know the exact number of chapters left but I can assume around 30.
@copyrightedbystarkindustries ha chiesto: Love your art!!! Are you planning on putting shadowpeach au stuff on your redbubble in the future?
Yes I do! But first I need to finish my job which will be more or less on the 20th of January.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK use a glamour to hide some scars or something his parents aren’t supposed to find out about ?
yes
@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: When you said during the livestream that MK will have a new outfit when he is magical girl, What do you mean by that ?
that he will eventually own a new outfit as “official outfit” let’s say. That isn’t his temporary fighting outfit he has now.
@magician-kitty ha chiesto: You think Mac will get more flustered now that Wukong’s more muscular thanks to all that weight lifting from the previous chapters?
a little bit yes.
@whotookfinn ha chiesto: Hey!! I’m absolutely in love with your art, it’s so beautiful and wonderful and IM OBSESSED. Anyway, I’m not sure if you’ve been asked this before, but who’s your favorite lmk character to draw?
macaque and Mk, they fluffy.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I HAVE A QUESTION! after your shadowpeach AU will be finished will you do other lmk Au????
nope.
@cjtuy ha chiesto: My question is about tang and pigsy are they married I've always wondered this
no they are not married, but it’s something they have been thought for a little bit. They known each other for years and got together for one. They know they work very well as a couple, and marriage would only be a more “official” way to show their union. It’s on their mind, maybe they will plan it in the near future
Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you seen that Brandon Roger's clip where he loses his kid? I can just imagine macaque going through that right now with mk being kidnapped. "Mothers adrenaline is kicking in!!" "have you seen my son, he's about this tall, clearly gay but we haven't had the talk" https://youtu.be/dJJUFrENZ_o?si=lbacsYlJr8XpaDQQ (this is the sound just in case)
LMAO I know that video by heart yes absolutely those would be the parents.
Anonimo ha chiesto: In the Bioparents AU, is Redson actually going to be able to court so Mk in the end after the whole celestial situation?
they will have time to do their stuff after the heaven shenanigans.
@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: I hope you are having a lovely day/night and are healthy and well AND TYSM FOR THAT SPICYNOODLES KISS I LOVED IT AND MY HEART WAS ABOUT TO BURST! Anyway I was wondering if mk and Redson parents are gonna have quality time with there Nephew in spirt/potential son in law?
mm yes. Post heaven shenanigans but yes.
@cpazy ha chiesto: About that,
It means that Mac and MK's powers have to do with the moon cycle, like on a full moon they get stronger or something like that? And if there is an eclipse where the moon turns red, their powers would go out of control?
Yes, but the opposite. On a full moon they are weaker, while on a new moon they are stronger.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! Not a question but I just love and ADORE your shadowpeach bio parents au! ❤️ Recently you had posted about LMK fic recommendations, I wanted to recommend "The Constellations Within Us" and it's sequel "Epilogue: Axis" (ongoing) by cloud_somersault on AO3. It's one of my favorite LMK/Shadowpeach fics! The writing and world building are stellar and it includes similar themes as the ones in your comic, like the themes of reconciliation, shadowpeach angst and repairing their friendship and their joint custod- I mean- mentorship of MK! It's a really good fic and I highly recommend giving it a read! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48308065 And again, love your comic so much! Have a great day! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
aaahhhh I will definetely check them out!
@astro-nomaly ha chiesto: Per ur Bio Parents AU, what happens when a courtnapping occurs, but the person getting napped isn’t actually into the courtnapper, and doesn’t want to be napped? Does courtnapping have a “leave whenever you want” clause or..? (I love ur au akshhenwb)
they are allowed to refuse anytime. If the kidnapper doesn’t allow the he’s a dick
@thecardboardbutterfly ha chiesto: Since everyone is starting to fear for tomorrow, I decided to share my convoluted thought I got yesterday night at like, 3AM to lighten the mood a bit (.3.)~* So Technically, given that Lmk is very much based on Journey to the West, maybe it's not that much of a stretch to call Lmk fan content of JTTW, like some kind of future AU or something. Which means your AU is fan content of Lmk. See where I'm getting at? Because your comic is so popular in the fandom, there is fan content of your AU out there, which is already fan content. Which means we reached a point where we have fan content (fanarts and various inspirations of the bio parents AU) of fan content (said bio parents AU) of fan content (Lmk) of a piece of content (JTTW). The chain is GETTING LONGER BOYS. I personally think it's funny. My apologies for everyone who lost their brain/ last remaining braincell reading this x)
omg. It’s a fan-inception!
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Red Son and MK ever have a bad date?
I like to believe EVERY date will have would be comically bad. But I think that’s because they still need to understand that they don’t fall under the “typical demon date” or “amatonormativity” umbrella. The best date they could have is just them training and having lunch later, or them playing videogames or netflix and chill.
@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Dumb question but do you remember the scene in lmk where Wukong said he has stage fright? I wonder if you're gonna do something with that knowledge…. Ps: Keep doing your magic queen we love you and your art✌️💅
oh u bet I did
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Neighbors With Benefits: Part 1 (Joel Miller x f!reader)
Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (I will be adding more and tag the Masterlist) Thank you @hellishjoel for putting on this contest. It's a lot of fun!
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: Roughly 5000
Warning: Dilfy smut, age gap (23 & 42)
Mid-June, 2024. The first summer back home upon college graduation. You knew there would be an adjustment period and while you didn't necessarily feel unhappy, there was a strangeness that left you with feelings you couldn't quite pinpoint. This was your childhood home, your hometown, your room - but still, somehow it felt foreign.
You hung up the maroon cap and gown that showed off the primary color of Texas A+M, the college where you had spent the last four years studying your ass off to get a degree in criminal justice. At twenty-three years old after spending the last few years in a little off-campus apartment with some friends, you were feeling both aggravated and nostalgic upon returning to your parents' house in the suburbs. They were great and you got along just fine; but the freedoms that had gone along with renting your own place were now reeled in a bit tighter. At the very least you knew your mother would likely stay awake on the nights you were out late. Still, you appreciated how much they cared about you.
You moved to your bedroom window and flung it open to let in some air to get rid of the stuffiness that lingered in the house. Immediately, your eyes landed on a man next door standing behind a grill as smoke filtered up above him in a faint, little cloud. He flipped a burger with a pair of metal tongs and took a sip from what looked like a bottle of beer.
"Hey, honey."
You jumped at your mother's voice as if you'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hey." You pressed your eyebrows together and motioned out the window as she entered the room. "Who's that?"
"Oh, I guess it never came up in conversation," your mother said with a shrug, "That's our new neighbor. He moved in back in January."
You glanced back out the window.
"He’s a bit too old for you,” she teased with a laugh.
You whipped around and made a face. "I'm not... I'm not checking him out. I'm just asking why there's a stranger in the Wilsons' backyard." You smirked and raised your eyebrows, "Maybe if my mother told me things I wouldn't have to play detective."
"Isn't that what you got your degree in criminal justice for?"
You chuckled, knowing she would most certainly outwit you in a verbal battle. "And I'm 23 years old. No one's too old for me anymore."
"Well, in that case I hear they just built a nice, new nursing home down the road with plenty of widowed men. I can drive you there if you'd like."
You let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll pass."
The two of you giggled and your mother continued, "Will you be joining your father and I for dinner tonight? We were thinking of just going to Chili's and then heading to a play at the little theater downtown. The kids are putting on Grease."
You smiled as your phone vibrated with a text from your best friend. "It's Holly."
"So, I guess the answer is going to be no," your mother suspected. She smirked and got the hint. “Keep in touch.”
"Okay," you agreed and then cleared your throat when she turned to go. "Mom, what's his name?"
"Huh?"
"The neighbor," you went on, "I should probably introduce myself since I'm going to be a resident of 45 Harding Drive again."
"Joel," her mother replied, "Joel Miller."
Your parents left soon after and so you wandered out to the back steps, waiting for them to take off first before popping open a beer. The ice cold beverage tasted better than normal because of the incoming summer heat that was supposed to really strike the following morning. With a content sigh, you leaned your elbows back on the top step of the set of four that led from the back door into the oversized backyard.
"Jennifer?" a deep, scratchy voice made you jump for the second time that night. You put a hand on your chest and glanced off to the side when you realized a man had called out your mother's name.
The neighbor, you thought, feeling your stomach knot up.
You cleared your throat and rose to your feet, leaving the beer on the top step. "No… I’m (Y/N)." You took a few steps in his direction though he made his way almost all the way to the steps.
"(Y/N)?" His features became clear when he stepped into a small, back light beside the door. The man flashed a friendly, boyish grin from beneath a trim beard. "Tim and Jen’s daughter?"
You looked down sheepishly and smiled before lifting your eyes to meet his stare. "Yeah."
He’s hot, your inner monologue informed you, as if your cheeks hadn't suddenly grown hot.
His eyes shifted to the beer and his grin widened even more before he extended a hand. "I'm Joel... your neighbor."
"Nice to meet you." You gave a closed-mouth smile and took in his appearance, consciously telling herself not to stare. His plain white t-shirt showed off his broad chest and shoulders
Joel cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's fine," you assured him and then cleared your throat, "Do you want a beer or something?"
A smirk twisted onto his face., "No thanks. I was actually just coming over to see if I could borrow some butter."
"Oh..." You glanced over your shoulder at the back door and then back to Joel.
"You don't have to," he said reassuringly, unable to keep the grin from his face. "You don't even know me yet so-"
"No.” You cut him off, "No, it's fine."
"Are you sure?" Joel's voice cut through you like a knife and he kept his eyes firmly locked on yours.
You nodded, unable to look away for a moment and then waved him inside.
"Don't forget your brew here, honey." He reached down and scooped up the beer as you flung the back door open.
You smiled again, "Thanks."
Joel nodded and followed you in, before glancing around at the modest but modern kitchen. "You, uh... you even old enough to drink this shit?" He motioned to the beer.
You rolled your eyes, "I can show you my ID if that makes you feel any better." You flung open the refrigerator, "I know my parents are going to treat me like I'm in high school again."
"Well... they're just trying to protect you," Joel said. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-three." You glanced over her shoulder at him, somewhat pleased to catch him staring - or so you thought. It prompted him to look elsewhere.
"Here." You removed a stick of butter and crossed the room to hand it to him. When the butter landed in his hand you decided to be bold and didn't immediately let it go, "How old are you?"
He chuckled before holding a wicked smirk and again held her captive with his playfully intense eyes. "How old do you think I am?"
You stared back, somewhat used to gaining control over the guys you had dated or been interested in in the past. Already, this time you felt a bit outmatched and part of it was your instant attraction to him. When Joel took one step in her direction, you swallowed hard and gave a random answer.
"Thirty-two?"
Joel laughed a little louder, putting a hand on his stomach. He ran the other hand through his messy brown hair and pointed. "You're so full of shit."
You smiled at him, "I was thinking more of thirty-eight, thirty-nine."
He sucked his teeth and gave you a look up-and-down before smiling wide again. When he didn't say anything in response you flat out asked, "Am I right?"
"Forty-two," Joel finally informed you after a long pause.
"Over the hill then?"
He snickered and then motioned to the fridge, "Ya know... I will have that beer if you don't mind."
You smiled before reopening the fridge to fetch one for him. When you placed a bottle of Bud Lite in his hand he used the counter to pop the top rather than twist it. When the dented bottle cap fell to the floor and danced in circles for a moment you glanced back up to find him continuing to stare as he took a long swig from the bottle.
Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your dad going to notice that a few of these are missing?"
"They're mine," you informed him, "And I'm not-"
"A kid, I know..." Joel rolled his eyes now and the two of you shared a laugh, "Believe me when you're my age you'll love that someone will accuse you of being younger."
"I'm sure I will."
He reached down and scooped up the cap from the ground and then held it out in his palm. When you went to reach for it he closed his hand and smiled playfully.
"I'll take it," Joel offered, "Don't want you to get caught drinking these things when your parents come home." He continued to tease you about your age.
"You know, I could've guessed you were fifty."
He laughed out loud. "Smart mouth on you," Joel flashed his index finger at her with the hand that held the bottle, "I like it."
You looked down and laughed again, feeling your cheeks grow hot again from his remark.
"Anyway, I should be getting back." Joel continued to smile, almost triumphantly and winked. "It was nice meeting you."
"It was nice meeting you too.”
He held your gaze for an extra second, forcing him to smirk a final time before heading out the back door.
"Thanks for the beer," he said casually, "I'll see ya around."
8:15 pm - the following evening
"Sorry I couldn't make it out last night," Holly said to you. The two of you sat side by side at barstools down at one of the local bars in town. "My boss can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
"It's fine. I had the house to myself so I kind of just had some time to chill and binge watch some old shows."
"Sounds terrible."
You laughed and shrugged. "It was alright."
"Well, here's to... summer?" Holly raised her martini glass and you tapped her beer bottle gently against it.
"To potentially the weirdest summer of my life."
"Why's that?"
You shrugged, "I don't know. Being back home doesn't feel so 'at home' anymore."
"Give it time." Holly sipped her drink, "In a month it'll feel like you never left."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Hey, it's not so bad. I'm here." She smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Jill and Molly should be home within the week too. We can get the old crew back together before we all get real jobs and have to do shitty adult stuff."
"I'll drink to that," you agreed, taking a longer swig of the beer. You sighed and began to peel at the blue Bud Lite label, letting your mind drift to the night before with Joel. You envisioned him snapping the cap off the top of the beer bottle, using the counter. A smile crossed lingered on your face.
"Ooohh... someone's checking us out," Holly commented, "Or maybe they know you..." Her eyebrows pressed together and she motioned using her head toward a table in the corner of the bar.
"Oh shit." You couldn't contain your response but realized it must've sounded out of place.
"What?" Her friend asked, "Do you know him?"
"That's my neighbor," you informed her, "New neighbor."
Joel smirked and gave a wave but quickly entertained a conversation he was having with two other men at the small, corner table.
"He's kind of a Dilf."
You snickered and shrugged, unable to take your eyes off of him. When Joel glanced back in your direction you looked away and quickly took a sip of your.
"You think he's hot," Holly suspected with a laugh.
"What?" You shook your head, "No... I mean he may have some Dilf qualities or something like you just said but…” The sentence drifted off.
"Mm-hmm..." She continued to stare at her friend with playfully accusing eyes.
"Stop," you joked, "I just met him last night."
"Last night?" Holly perked up, "And..."
"And what?"
"You tell me."
You laughed again, "He came over to the house because he needed some butter."
"More like some sugar," she winked and glanced up toward a television that had a baseball game on in front of them.
You let out a hearty laugh and shook your head.
"He keeps looking over here." Holly’s voice perked out, "Oh! He's getting up," Holly whispered, stalking him for a moment with her eyes.
You glanced over and felt your stomach twist in knots when he headed in their direction.
"So you are over twenty-one," Joel cracked a wide smile and tapped the back of her chair as he continued to walk by.
"Twenty-three," you called after him, smiling wide.
He glanced over his shoulder, winking once before continuing on around a corner toward the bathrooms.
You let out a sigh and Holly turned back around.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" her friend asked. Before you could attempt to plead your case Holly went on, "He's hot... and he's totally flirting with you."
"He's not flirting with me."
"That was a Frank Sinatra-worthy wink."
You shook your head, laughing again. "Where do you come up with these things?"
"You're glowin. You're crushing on this guy. Who cares if he's your neighbor. Get on that."
"He's forty-two," you lowered your voice.
Holly raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the doorway where Joel had just walked through before returning her attention to her friend.
"Forget it." You sipped your drink and tried to pretend like you were nterested in the game on the television.
"At least admit you're crushing."
She turned to her and shook her head, "Fine... he's hot. Okay?" You focused on the screen for as long as she could and tried to pretend not to notice when Joel rounded back into the bar. You let out a deep breath as he crossed behind you and felt a rush when he came up beside you to flag down the bartender.
"Another round?" the middle-aged bartender asked, already reaching for a beer.
"Please,” Joel said with a nod, "You can put it on the tab." He turned to you, "Any interest in playing darts over here?" He nodded toward a dart board in the corner.
"Sure."
"Don't feel obligated." He forced your eyes back to his and continued to stare into them.
"I don't." You felt that intense paralysis again and couldn't turn away. When the bartender came back with the round of beers for Joel, you felt relieved and let out a breath.
"Get these two what they want," Joel added to the bartender, "Next round's on me when you finish those."
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"It's fine. I owe you one from last night." He headed back to the small table with his friends and Holly finally snapped you out of your daze.
"I thought you just gave him butter," she whispered with a giggle, "What was last night?"
You swallowed hard and rose to your feet, prompting Holly to do the same. "I offered him a beer and he took it," she said, "It was nothing... believe me. If I had anything interesting to share I would tell you."
Your legs felt heavy as you crossed the dark bar that was scattered with only a handful of other people. While the two other men began collecting darts and erasing the chalkboard to the side, Joel stood staring with his elbow on the table. For a moment everything else was in the background and you could only focus on him.
Shit... Any wit she had going for her had betrayed her. The instant, intense attraction you had to him was completely clouding your judgment. You felt like you were about to enter a wolf den, though you didn't at all mind playing the part of Little Red Riding Hood.
The anxiety-ridden feeling you had had leading up to the game of darts diminished as the night went on. You played a few games, swapping teammates several times, beginning with a 'boys versus girls' theme and then pairing off randomly when one game ended.
"He's going to fuck it up, you watch," Joel taunted as his friend lined up, closing one eye as he released the dart, only sending it clunking off the board and to the ground. "You didn't even hit the fuckin' board." His words drew laughter from everyone and the man that missed stumbled to retrieve it, chuckling as he went.
"I'm fucked up," Skip, the older robust man, remarked as he struggled to pick the dark up from the floor.
"Ya think?" Joel joked, continuing to sip on his beer.
"It's about time I get this man home to his wife and let her deal with him," the other man, Charlie, chuckled from behind a pair of alcohol-induced crimson cheeks. "Can't hold his liquor."
Skip huffed a breath and closed his eyes with a hand on his head. "The old lady's going to be mad at me. Especially when I tell her we've been hanging out with these lovely ladies." He motioned to you and Holly, laughing at himself and making the others do the same.
"I'd leave that part out if you knew what was good for ya," Charlie informed him with another laugh. "Come on Skippy. It's past your bed time."
"Game over?" Holly asked you.
"I guess so." You raised her eyebrows and smiled.
"Charlie, you guys to get home?" Joel asked.
"It's just a quarter mile down the road," Charlie waved a hand. He smiled, "Good night ladies."
"Goodnight," you both said at the same time before Holly turned to you.
"I'm heading to the bathroom. Be right back." She raised her eyebrows, noting it would give you and Joel a moment alone and you tried to play it off coolly.
"Okay." She watched a moment as Holly made her way down the bar and around the corner.
"Hope I didn't kill your girls night," Joel said.
"No." You turned back to him and leaned an elbow on the table, "We were just bored. Had to get out of the house."
"Mmm..." He slid back down into a seat and you took upon herself to join him as you waited for Holly.
Joel leaned both elbows on the table to straddle his beer, "You're probably used to night clubs filled with young guys just dying to buy you a drink. This has to be fuckin' lame."
"I was over that scene by my junior year," you told him with a laugh as you shook your head. "They were all the same with their cheesy cologne and gelled up hair."
Joel huffed a laugh and took a sip of his drink. "Sick of that shit huh?"
"Very." You mirrored his position and continued to sip on the beer you had been milking for the better part of an hour, "I'm kind of over the party scene... and the being at home scene."
"You've been home for one fuckin' day." He raised his eyebrows, "Get over it. You're saving money."
You nodded, "Yeah... yeah you're right."
"I know I am." He smiled, a charming arrogance radiating out of him.
When your phone buzzed in your pocket you jumped and quickly removed it, finding a text message from Holly.
I'm getting in my car. Snuck out the back. Have fun. You'll thank me later.
When you looked back up Joel was grilling you with his eyes. You wondered if he had managed to read the message or not. You cleared her throat. "Holly," you said simply.
"You guys need to go?"
You opened her mouth to speak, still unsure if he had seen what your friend wrote but decided to chance it and lie. "She... got sick. She's on her way home."
"She okay?"
You nodded. “Just a little embarrassed I think and decided to go." You took a sip to buy yourself some time in case he asked any more questions. When he didn't you tried to change the subject. "This place is dead."
"What's so bad about the college scene?" Joel asked.
"Huh?"
"The young guys, the night clubs..."
"Oh... nothing, I guess." You cleared her throat feeling like he was trying to read your mind. Again, your face felt flush with heat and you continued, "They're just... all the same. There's no appeal anymore. When I was eighteen I thought it was cool sneaking into bars and all that." You smiled and shook her head before looking him in the eye. "This is more my speed."
Joel stared back and didn't immediately say anything.
You almost couldn't take the quiet stalemate. The sexual attraction for Joel burned in your chest and in that moment, in the quiet corner of the bar, it was hard to fight it. All the same, you felt like you had to be reading his body language correctly in assuming he was feeling something too. Still, the fact that he was your older neighbor, who you didn't know very well, lingered in the back of your mind.
Getting involved with Joel would satisfy your instant craving for him but beyond that you knew it could only lead to making both of your lives more complicated.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you told him, when you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. It was the only thing you could say without leaping across the table and initiating a make-out session that played out animalistically in your mind.
"You gunna disappear on me too?" he joked, though you could see there was a hint of seriousness in his piercing eyes behind the wicked smile that hadn't left his face all evening.
"Not a chance." You felt embarrassed by the bold nature of your words, but took a deep breath and made the long walk across the bar into the restroom area. When you pushed open the door you felt relieved that no one else was in there and quickly made your way to the sink to pat some water on her face. You let out a breath, leaning both of her hands on the counter and then took in your appearance to make sure you was satisfied with the way you looked.
I'm being ridiculous, you thought. I'm too old to feel this out of control over a guy... or a man.
Joel was a man. He wasn't at all like the college boys you had been surrounded by who loved to crush beer cans on their heads, brag about how many consecutive beer pong games they'd won and worst of all when they threw the cheesiest lines at you and your friends to try to get laid. Joel didn't have to say or do anything in particular. He could simply look at you the right way and you found yourself ready to obey any request or demand he threw your way.
I’m in over my head, you thought, but I don't care.
You took in another deep breath and felt like you had the quick break that you needed to hold a sensible conversation with him without the constant interference of your out-of-whack hormones.
"Okay," you whispered to yourself and fiddled with your hair before pulling the door open to head back into the short, dark hallway. When Joel rounded the corner at the same time from the bar both of you stopped abruptly.
His eyes stalked the length of your body before finally re-settling on your gaze.
"Checking to make sure I didn't bail?" you joked, nervously laughing just after. Your tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but look him up and down the way he had just done to you.
Joel swallowed hard, tipping his mouth up into a half-smirk before walking past the men's room door in your direction.
You didn't have time to process all of the questions in your mind because he marched up and planted his lips against yours, immediately penetrating them with his tongue as his hands successfully shoved you up against the door to the women's room. It opened a few inches beneath the force.
You felt an explosion of adrenaline filter through your body as you kissed him back even more savagely than in your daydreams.
Joel pushed the door all the way open with one hand, not separating himself from you as he gripped your ass with his free hand and pushed his hips firmly against yours.
You tangled a hand in his hair, kissing him back with a heated passion that you didn't bother to try masking now that he had initiated the fantasy that had been playing out in your mind since you had him.
He moaned into your mouth before taking a breath and crushing his lips back against yours. Your back collided with the tile wall at the back of the bathroom, and you arched your neck as he began to ravage you, sliding a hand down the front of your pants while gripping your face with the other to kiss you hard again.
It all was happening so fast. You struggled to keep up but couldn't process a conscious thought when his first two fingers slid inside of you.
You bit down on your lip in a break in the kiss and spread your legs wider to give him more access.
Joel left a single kiss on her lips and spoke against them in a husky whisper, "Let it out honey," he kissed you again, "Let it out."
You knew the bar was nearly empty and there wasn't another woman that had been there. Even if there had been you didn't know that you would have cared. When his fingers twitched, arcing perfectly in his technique to make your entire lower body shiver with pleasure, you groaned.
"Fuck Joel," your whined his name, desperate for his tongue to dominate your again as he continued to finger you relentlessly until you felt like you were going to explode.
Joel's arousal heightened when he traced your lips with his thumb of his free hand, prompting you to take the tip of it into your mouth.
"God," he closed his eyes relished in the feeling, pushing his fingers deeper into you.
You whimpered again, writhing beneath his touch and attempted to reach for the belt buckle on his pants. "I want you."
He removed his hand from beneath your slick panties and placed his hands against the wall on either side of you as you managed to undo his buckle and shove his pants down off his hips.
Instinctively, you dropped to your knees, taking in as much of him as you could. Joel moaned and bucked his hips once as he grasped the back of your head with one hand. You looked up, watching his head fall back as his closed eyes pressed shut tighter. Joel allowed you to have your way with him as you continued to go down on him like you might never get another opportunity to do so. "Fuuucckk." He drew the word out, encouraging you to continue as he grabbed a fist full of your hair. "Ohh shit..."
Had anybody walked by the door there would have been no way to mask what was going on. Joel didn't hold back and felt an additional jolt of pleasure when you stroked him with your hand before quietly demanding him to come.
He opened his eyes, letting his mouth hang open as he glanced down, making eye contact with you as you engulfed him again.
"Jesus..." Joel's eyes closed and he felt an unmistakable buildup brewing below his waist. He couldn't ask you to stop, not when he was on the verge of exploding. "I'm gunna come." He shouted the words so loud that you thought for sure that someone had to have heard your encounter from somewhere in the bar. Still, you didn't let up and allowed him to push deep into you, gripping the back of your head with such force that you couldn't have separated your mouth from him if you tried.
He groaned, not attempting to hold back what he was feeling, alternating different curse words in between uneven breaths that ultimately left him panting as you finished him off. With a final breath he released your hair, letting his hand drop toward your face as you wiped a hand across your mouth and slowly rose to your feet.
Joel stood there for several seconds, breathing heavy with his pants at his ankles and a hand still on your face. When he finally came down off the high enough to speak, a chuckle left his mouth and ran a hand through your now-messy hair. "Shit honey... you didn't get yours." He let out another breath and then retrieved his pants from the floor and straightened out his appearance.
"It's alright," you told him with a sly smile, noting the heat that was still brewing between your legs.
He huffed another breath and adjusted himself over his pants before regaining your gaze. Joel smiled and drew his thumb gently under your eye, "Mascara's running. Sorry honey."
You closed her eyes as he continued to wipe the stray makeup away from your face. When you reopened them, Joel sported a half grin and he raised his eyebrows.
"Guess I fuckin' owe ya one."
You snickered, pleased to know that he wasn't at all expecting this to be your only encounter. "Yeah... you do."
Joel took a final, deep breath. "Well... you know where to find me."
"Next door."
"If you see me outside come on over to... borrow some butter or something.”
"Butter..." You snickered and then swallowed hard when he took a step toward her and slid a hand back down the front of your pants.
Joel touched his lips to yours as he spoke and this time gently began to massage up and down your wet center. When your mouth twisted up in a smile and you closed your eyes again he grinned and removed his glistening fingers. "It's a shame this is going to go to waste. Too bad you're so damn good at giving a blowjob. I had all the intentions of fucking you but I could just not ask you to stop.”
"Damn," she said quietly, but smiled, praying he might have it in him to continue.
Joel smiled, reading the disappointment on her face. "I'll be in and out tomorrow," he claimed, "You see me and you feel like bringing me over some butter…”
"I think you’ll definitely need some."
He looked down and made his way to the sink to wash his hands before turning to her with a smile. He ended the night the same way he had the night before, "I'll see ya around."
CLICK HERE FOR PART 2
#pedro pascal#joel miller#hotdilfsummerchallenge#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#joel miller x oc#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal x oc#pedro pascal x fem reader#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller the last of us#joel miller gif#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x f!oc#joel miller x fem reader#joel miller x female oc#joel miller x female reader#joel miller tlou#protective joel#joel x oc#joel x reader#daddy pedro
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worth the wait ~matt sturniolo~
summary: 5 times matt wanted to tell his best friend he loved her + the 1 time he actually went through with it
word count: 3.8k
pairing: matt sturniolo x best friend!reader
notes: i love the 5+1 fics because they are just so cute. and who exudes cuteness more than our very own matthew sturniolo?
masterlist
december 31, 2013/january 1, 2014: the first time he knew & wanted to express it
it was new years eve and mary lou was throwing a party for her friends and family to celebrate the arrival of 2013.
a lot had gone on that year and she figured the best way to unwind would be to have all her closest friends together under one roof.
y/n was best friends with the matt and her parents were close to his own parents so inviting them over was the first thing that crossed marylou's mind.
y/n walked in like she owned the place and went right to matt and chris' bedroom.
"hey guys."
"what's up?" nick was the first one to greet her, as chris and matt were both occupied with a video game.
"remember how on christmas we were discussing the fact that people kiss at midnight on new years? and then we were deciding who we would all kiss when the clock struck 12?"
"of course i remember. what about it though?" chris set his controller down and the boys all looked at y/n.
"you guys were arguing over who wanted to kiss me at midnight but to settle it, i decided on my own."
"okay." matt leaned forward in his bean bag. "so who's it going to be?"
"you'll find out at midnight." she winked and skipped out of the room. the boys just glanced at each other, trying to figure out who she picked.
as midnight slowly approached, the boys were starting to feel sleepy. y/n had decided on kissing chris at midnight but when she looked over at him, he was passed out on the couch so she shook her head and made another decision.
matt noticed nick passed out too so he gently nudged y/n.
"guess that just leaves you." she smiled through a yawn.
"was i your last pick?"
"yeah. sorry."
"no. it's okay. at least i'm getting picked." he shrugged nonchalantly.
y/n just looked at him and smiled when she heard the adults start counting. "you ready?"
"is this going to be your first kiss?" he looked at his lap.
"nope. kissed donnie ryder on the last day of school before the break."
"oh okay." matt glanced over at the tv screen. "2 seconds."
"1" y/n leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on matt's lips. "happy new year, matty."
he was only 10 years old but to him, the kiss meant everything.
by the time y/n's parents were ready to leave, they noticed she was passed out on the couch with the boys. her head resting in chris' lap. mary lou looked down at the kids and smiled.
"you can leave her ere for the night. she'll be alright."
"are you sure?" y/n's mom glanced back and forth between her daughter and mary loud.
"of course. i'm sure the kids would all appreciate it in the morning."
"okay. thank you mary lou." y/n's parents smiled and headed home, leaving their child in the care of their best friend.
when the kids woke up in the morning, y/n was on the floor and matt's arm was laying across her face. she carefully moved it off her face and he woke up.
"i'm sorry. didn't mean to wake you." y/n looked at the other 2 who were fast asleep before looking back at matt.
"it's all good." he smiled and stretched. "happy new years, y/n."
"happy new years, matty." she repeated the response from a few hours ago and matt admired her for it.
there was something in the way she called him 'matty' that made him realize that at only 10 years old, he was in love with his best friend.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
august 1, 2016: the second time matt wanted to express his feelings
ever since they kissed on new years, matt couldn't stop thinking about y/n. she occupied every vacant thought he had and it bugged him. she was his best friend and he didn't want to be feeling this way.
at his 13th birthday, his brothers had all their friends over and although he loved nathan's company, he was always looking for y/n. he found her after 5 seconds of searching, which he knew was a little odd.
"happy birthday to my favorite triplet." she whispered as she pulled him into a tight hug.
"your favorite triplet? thought i was your overall favorite."
"well if it wasn't for justin, you would be."
"right. justin." matt looked around the room until his eyes landed on his older brother. y/n had revealed to him just last month that she had harboring a crush on justin for the last 2 years and it bothered matt. he understood that girls sometimes had crushes on older men but why couldn't she have a crush on him instead?
"he's so cute." she stared in justin's direction and matt felt the pit in his stomach begin to form.
"y/n, he's 19. ain't that a little too old for you?"
"maybe. but you can't help who you love."
there it was. the one word he wanted to express to her. the one word he couldn't figure out how to say to her. the only word he struggled with.
"no, you really can't." he looked at her briefly before looking down at his feet. "it's not really love, is it?"
"course not. think it's just a phase really. but i can't help it. we grew up with him always protecting us. it's admirable."
"yeah yeah. whatever." matt threw his hand out, gesturing that the idea was nonsense, causing y/n to roll her eyes playfully.
"it's time for cake." nick appeared, grabbing the two of them and dragging them into the kitchen towards the triplets cakes. each one of them was different but so were the boys so it matched perfectly.
"make a wish." mary lou smiled and pointed the camera at the boys as they each blew out their candles.
"i wished for a lot of candy."
"me too." chris smiled at nick and they both turned towards matt. "what did you wish for?"
matt, ever a believer in superstitions, knew that if he told anyone his wish, it wouldn't come true. he glanced to his right and smiled at y/n. "sorry boys. if i tell you, it won't come true."
his wish was to finally be able to be with y/n in the future. he didn't want to screw that up in any way.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
june 1, 2020: the third time he wanted to tell her but couldn't
"i think i want to start making youtube videos." matt sighed as he flopped down on y/n's bed.
they were almost 17 and neither of them had solid plans for after high school.
"i think that's a wonderful idea, matty." y/n sat up and looked at her friend. "what are you going to make them about?"
"well nick, chris and i were talking the other day and we came to the conclusion that we'll just film videos in the car somewhere and come up with random topics each time. or maybe we could do challenge videos every friday. what sounds better?"
"i like the car video idea. but i also like the idea of watching you guys go through challenges. especially if they're one of those gross food ones or something." y/n giggled at matt's expression.
"think the boys will be up for both?" matt sat up straight and looked at his feet. "what if we fail at this? what am i going to do?"
"matthew bernard, you are incredible. you'll figure life out and if the youtube career doesn't pan out the way you want it to, i'll be here to help you figure out your next step, alright?"
"okay." he looked up at her and smiled. "wanna film with us?"
"i don't think your female fans would appreciate that very much."
"we don't have fans."
"not yet. but you will. and you're going to be the favorite. the girls are going to love you."
"you think so?"
"of course i do." she smiled. "just don't forget me when you're famous."
"i could never forget you, y/n."
right then, matt felt like he could lean forward and kiss her. but he didn't. he restrained himself. instead, he brought up the topic y/n was trying to forget about.
"so, how's your crush on justin going?"
when she giggled and hit him with a pillow, he felt so much love for her. it was insane.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
august 1, 2022: the fourth time he wanted to tell her
the triplets had just turned 19 and they were throwing a party. even though it was just their group of friends, matt was feeling anxious. he didn't like crowds and his eyes roamed the group of people, looking for his favorite pair of eyes. when he couldn't find her, he felt his chest tighten. his grip on the cup he was holding began turning his knuckles white.
"hey, matty. wanna go hang out in your room for a bit? how's that sound?" y/n whispered beside him. he looked down at her and nodded slowly. she grabbed his cup, set it on the counter and guided him back to his bedroom. she passed nick on the way and he nodded in understanding.
when y/n sat matt on his bed, he looked at her and smiled softly.
"thank you." he let out a sigh. y/n sat next to him and wiped the lone tear off his cheek.
"anytime." she smiled in return.
the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before matt spoke up again.
"i know they're my friends out there but i just...i just..." he couldn't form the right words. y/n placed her hand on his and smiled.
"i get it, matt. you don't have to say anything."
"you don't have to stay in here with me, you know? they're your friends too."
"they may be, but you're my best friend and i feel you need the company more."
"thank you. i really appreciate it." he scooted up the bed until his back was against the headboard. y/n mimicked his actions and rested her head on his shoulder. he placed a kiss to the top of her head and lingered for a few extra seconds.
a few seconds he felt came off as a little more than platonic. but even if y/n noticed, she didn't say a thing. matt knew she was thinking about it though and he knew she didn't bring it up because she didn't want to make him uncomfortable & he couldn't love her more for it.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
february 14, 2023: the fifth time he wanted to tell her but couldn't
valentines day was a day mainly pointed at couples or people who wanted to spend a lot of money to get someone to love them. most of the time, it worked.
but for matt, it didn't.
he spent the past 5 months trying to get over y/n. after the birthday party, he figured that after almost 10 years of being in love with her and not being able to find the courage to tell her, he would just give up and try to focus his love elsewhere.
it resulted in multiple one night stands that never left him feeling as good as y/n did when she was around. he was too far in love with her to forget.
so when valentine's day slowly approached, he devised a plan to tell her how he felt. he bought her favorite flowers and bought her favorite food since she didn't like the traditional chocolate and roses. he also bought her balloons because he knew she liked the way the helium sounded. he knew it was ridiculous to spend money on someone but y/n was worth it to him.
he set everything up in his bedroom and waited for her arrival in the living room.
it was over an hour of waiting before she came through the front door, using the key he gave her.
"i am so sorry i'm late. i know we were supposed to hang out today but work was crazy swamped and my boss asked me to stay after my shift to help clean up the dinner rush."
"it's okay. we're not on any schedule." matt stood up from his spot on the couch and approached her. she smiled at him and let him guide her back to the couch. "you can pick the movie."
"i always pick the movie though. don't you want to pick just this once?"
"no. this is your day. i'm letting you pick. besides, i enjoy it when you pick. it always makes you happy."
"you're the best, matty." she kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. she pressed play on 'tangled' and even though they had watched the movie together about a hundred times, matt enjoyed it because y/n did. it was her favorite movie and he knew that.
halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang. y/n groaned in protest when matt removed his arm from around her shoulder and stood up.
"it's the food i ordered. be right back." matt ran down the stairs and grabbed the food, handed the driver a $20 tip and went back up to the living room. "happy valentine's day." he set the bag down and y/n opened it.
"you ordered my favorite meal?"
"of course." he smiled and watched as y/n began eating the food. she offered him a bite but he shook his head and she continued eating. when she finished, she looked at matt and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. she had some sauce on the corner of her mouth and matt thought it was oddly attractive.
"what are you staring at, weirdo?"
"you got a little something right here." he grabbed the napkin and dabbed her lips gently. her eyes briefly closed at the contact and matt took this second to admire her. he slowly pulled the napkin away and stood up quickly.
"you alright?"
"i almost forgot that i set something up in my room for you." he started walking to his room but stopped. "are you staying the night?"
"yeah. i'm too exhausted to drive home and i don't want to bother you for a ride since you already do so much for me." y/n approached him and smiled. "now let's go see what you have set up for me."
when y/n's eyes landed on the balloons, she gasped. then she saw the vase of flowers on matt's beside table & it was like she was in heaven.
she stood there in silence for a little too long so matt grabbed her hand. she was startled but she looked up at him with nothing but adoration in her eyes.
"you are so perfect, matty. and when you do this for a girl for real, she's going to love you endlessly."
he felt like shouting 'this is for real. why can't you see that?' at her, but he didn't. he wanted to tell her he loved her but he had no idea how to prove it.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
march 1 2024: the one time he was finally able to tell her
matt had been silently pining for his best friend for over 10 years and he knew that he needed to face his fears and finally let it out. he wanted to tell chris and ask him for help but he knew that would be a lost cause.
nick was almost no better than chris but he knew that at least with nick, he wouldn't get some bullshit back.
he slowly approached nick's door and knocked. "hey. it's matt. can i ask you for some advice?"
nick opened the door and looked at his brother. "what's up?"
"i need your advice on how to express your feelings for someone."
"just tell y/n how you feel. don't be too grand with the gestures because she hates those. make her favorite meal and jsut tell her everything."
"how do you know who-"
"please, matthew. it's been 10 years. i almost told her for you on her birthday last year but she was pulled away by chris just in time so you're lucky. and if you don't tell her soon, she's going to end up with some loser asshole and she'll be out of our lives forever. you don't want that, do you?"
"absolutely not. i can't let her out of my life." he smiled and went to turn away but a thought went through his mind and he frowned. "what if i tel lher and she freaks out? she'll be out of my life then too."
"she's not going to freak out. she may not like to admit it but she's been in love with you for the last 5 years at least. and before you ask me how i know, i'm attentive. i see things most people don't. but you need to tell her today before you lose her for good."
"why today?"
"she's got a date with simon at 6 and if all goes well, then you'll have lost your chance."
"fuck." he checked his phone and ran down the stairs quickly, throwing in and "i gotta go." on the way down. he grabbed his keys and ran to his car. fearing that he could lose y/n, he felt the car speeding up and when he pulled onto the familiar street, he got nervous and looked at the clock
4:58 pm
he parked in her driveway and knocked on her door. when she answered it, she smiled.
"oh hey matt. what's up?"
"we need to talk." he gently pushed himself past her and went to her kitchen to grab a root beer from the fridge.
"okay. and i repeat. what's up?"
"why didn't you tell me you had a date with simon?"
"what do you mean?"
"nick told me that you had a date with simon tonight. at 6. why didn't you tell me about it?"
"that was last night, matt."
"oh.
"and it wasn't much of a date." she sighed and opened her own bottle of root beer. "it was nice at first but after dinner, we were in his car and he kept putting his hand on my thigh. i told him to quit and he did. at first. but then he kept doing it and each time, his hand went further up." matt watched as y/n's sighed. "i freaked out on him and he called me a prude, then left me on the side of the road. so i walked all the way back here."
"why didn't you call me? i would've come to get you, you know that."
"i was embarrassed and i didn't want you to see me like that." she sighed. "i just felt so.... not good enough."
"okay, no. you don't get to feel that way after defending your own rights. it's ridiculous. he should be the one feeling like shit for the way he treated you. and i swear to god. if i ever see him out in public, i'm kicking his ass."
"matt, relax. it's fine now." y/n set her bottle down and put her hand on his arm. "the fact that you're here is enough to make me feel better."
"good." he looked at her. "for the record, you're more than good enough. he was the one who wasn't good enough for you. i don't think there's anyone alive who deserves you. you're too good of a person."
"well i want to find love eventually, matty." she sighed and looked down at her feet. "i don't want to be too good that nobody deserves me. and i have so much love to give but if nobody deserves me, then who am i gonna give it to?"
"give it to me."
"huh?" she looked up with wide eyes, not believing the words she had just heard.
"give your love to me. i know i am far from worthy but i can definitely do better than simon or any other guy in your life. i've built up so much love for you for the past 10 years and not being able to express it has been killing me. you are the single greatest thing in my life and i don't want anyone else to be with you."
"matt, are you serious?"
"100% serious." matt placed his hand gently on the side of her face. "god, i have loved you since i was 10 years old and you were my first kiss. new years day of 2013 was a life changer for me. it awakened love that i didn't think was possibly so young. and when i was going to tell you, you told me you had a crush on justin. not gonna lie, i cried that night. it sucked so bad." he chuckled. "but i've struggled to come up with a good way to tell you how i've been feeling. it sucked having to watch you with other guys for 10 years."
"matt, i love you. so much. your stupid face. your stupid smile. your stupid tattoos. even though none of you is actually stupid." y/n smiled. "i've loved you since your 9th birthday. and on new years when you asked if you were my last pick for the kiss, i lied. you were my first pick but i didn't want to seem too eager. and i also lied about kissing donnie ryder before break. all he did was kiss my cheek and wish me a merry christmas. you were my first real kiss."
"i hated donnie ryder for years because of that." matt chuckled. "but im glad i was your first."
"we may have been 10 but if i recall correctly, you were the best kiss i've ever had. and i've kissed a lot of guys since then."
"okay, i didn't need to know that. i just confessed my love to you and you're telling me there's been many guys as if i didn't know already." matt smirked. "but i do like that i was the best one."
"i think i need a new sample."
"oh is that so?" matt looked down at y/n as she inched closer. "if a new sample is what you want, then it's what you'll get.
he pulled her in and placed his lips on hers gently. she kissed back immediately and when she smirked into the kiss, matt wrapped his arms around her hips and deepened the kiss.
more than 10 years of feelings was being poured out into the kiss and it was the best kiss either of them had ever had.
"since i was your first kiss, can i also be your last?" matt asked in a low whisper as he pulled away slowly.
"yes. absolutely. a thousand times yes." y/n smirked and kissed him again. and again.
they couldn't get enough of each other and their unspoken commitment to each other was all they needed.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic
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2025 : #11 - 6% Mentality : why u are holding urself back ?
✒️..It’s January . You’re all fired up about your New Year’s resolutions, right? “This is my year,” u say. “I’ll lose the weight, make the money, start the business, crush my goals.” But BFR : By the time February rolls around, you’re back to your old habits. Your gym membership is collecting dust, that diet is long gone, and that academic cb idea is still just a thought in your head. You’ve been here before iiikr
🏷️[ inspiration: dr.Michelle Robbins refers to her study of 1,000 people, showing that 94% gave up on their resolutions by February but how the 6% managed to succeed ?]
So 94% of people will abandon their goals before they even get started. Let me repeat that 94%. The odds are stacked against you, but there’s a small group—just 6%—who will do the work, face the grind, and get what they want. What separates them from the rest? They know the truth, and they do it even when they don’t feel like it.
Let me give u truth. If you want to be part of the 6%, you need to change how you think, act, and approach your goals. u need to stop being weak.
ONE take charge or shut up.
Your brain is not your friend. It’s a coward. Your brain wants comfort, safety, and the easy way out. Every time you try to do something hard—like losing weight, hitting the gym, or getting out of debt—your brain will whisper, “You deserve a break. Skip the gym. You’ll start tomorrow. One donut won’t hurt.”The reality is that tomorrow never comes. And if you keep listening to your brain, you'll never see any change. The 6%? They don’t listen to their excuses. They take charge. They override their feelings. They don’t give a damn about comfort or instant gratification—they’re thinking about where they want to be a year from now.
You need to make a choice: Are you going to let your feelings control you? Or are you going to start controlling your feelings? Take charge. You don’t want it bad enough if you keep letting your brain win.
Two get specific or quit.
Enough with the vague promises. “I’ll work out more.” “I’ll eat healthier.” Bullshit. That’s not a goal—that’s a wish. You might as well wish on a star and hope things magically change.The 6% know that vague goals don’t work. They get specific. Instead of saying, “I’ll lose weight,” they say, “I’ll eat 1,800 calories a day and hit the gym for 30 minutes every morning at 7 AM.” Instead of saying, “I want to be a high achiever,” they say, “I’ll study 2h and rest for 30 min until I get it” ..Your brain loves specifics. It’s easy to stay motivated when you know exactly what to do. But when you’re vague, you have no idea where you’re going, and no one gets anywhere with no direction.
You need to stop with the “I’ll try” and start with “I will.” If you can’t commit to specifics, then stop whining about why things aren’t working. You get what you decide to get, not what you wish for.
Three focus on the 10
You’re busy. I get it. WE ARE IN A SOCIETY WHERE EVERYONE IS BUSY..You’ve got a million things on your to-do list. But guess what? Most of that stuff doesn’t matter. You’re wasting time on things that don’t move the needle. “Check emails. Scroll Instagram. Clean your room.” Sure, they make you feel productive, but they don’t move you closer to your goals.You need to stop being busy and start being effective. The 6% know how to focus. They don’t waste time on trivial shit. They get to work on the 10s—the things that actually matter. If your goal is to get in shape, that means working out. It doesn’t mean cleaning your kitchen or sending one more email. If your goal is for example become an academic weapon is not watching how to study for exam in the last night ..
Get real with yourself pookie Stop pretending you’re busy. Look at your list. What’s the ONE thing that moves you closer to your goal? Do that first. The rest? It can wait. If it’s not a 10, don’t waste your time on it.
Forth small steps big results.
Let’s not sugarcoat this: If you want to succeed, you have to make sacrifices. There’s no shortcut. But the thing most people don’t get that You don’t need to change everything at once. You don’t need to completely overhaul your life. Start small.Take one step at a time. If you’re trying to lose weight, drink one glass of water before every meal. That’s it. But don’t stop there. Once that becomes easy, add something else: Maybe you walk 10 minutes every day. Or swap out soda for water.
The 6% get it: Small actions snowball. They build momentum. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to show up consistently.
The Challenge: 30 Days of Realness.
Pick one goal. ONE. And commit to it for the next 30 days. No excuses. Write it down. Be specific. Take charge. Get rid of all the distractions and focus on what matters. Every single day, make progress—even if it’s just a little.But if you’re not serious about this, don’t bother. If you’re not willing to do what it takes—if you’re too busy making excuses—then stop pretending you want to change. The 6% don’t have time for excuses. They do the work, even when it’s hard, even when they don’t feel like it.believe in urself and be disciplined !!
So, get off your ass, stop whining, and start doing. Because if you keep playing the same game, you’re going to keep getting the same results. But if you’re ready to be part of the 6%? You better bring your A-game. And you better be real with yourself.
@bloomzone 📇
#luckybloom#bloomivation#bloomdiary#wonyoungism#wonyoung#glow up#becoming that girl#dream life#it girl#creator of my reality#divine feminine#it girl affirmations#daily routine#tumblr girls#girlhood#girl blogging#girl blogger#blogging#stay focused#get motivated#studyblr#confidence#online diary#self growth#self confidence#self development#self healing#pink blog#study blog
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Red Wave
January 1st, 2025
Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.
Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.
Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?
February 10th, 2025
Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...
March 12th, 2025
So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.
April 15th, 2025
Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.
Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.
May 18th, 2025
Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.
June 30th, 2025
This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?
July 23rd, 2025
I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.
August 11th, 2025
I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.
September 7th, 2025
Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.
October 20th, 2025
Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.
I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.
November 30th, 2025
Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.
December 1st, 2025
The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.
#lib to con#liberal to conservative#atheist to christian#transformation#male transformation#suit and tie#preppy tf
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day 1/24 - obx christmas countdown
'I want you to know that I'm never leaving' - Sia, Snowman | angst-fluff | jj x fem!reader | keep track of the obx christmas countdown here!
You stir in the night cocooned in blankets. Groaning, you blink yourself awake and squint at the bedside table's alarm clock. The glaring digital letters read three a.m. With another grunt, you roll over and kick off some of the covers. As your eyes slip shut, your body moves to snuggle into JJ’s like a reflex. You always slept on the left of the small double and him on the right. More times than not, you’d end up with all the covers and him with none, but considering he ran like a boiler engine, it didn’t much bother him. But when your hand reaches out to splay on his warm bareback, you frown and open your eyes at the feel of soft cotton sheets. Weird.
You shove the rest of the sheets off you with a huff. Kildare was warm enough during the days of December so long as you had a hoodie to hand, but at night, when the sun went to sleep, it cooled off. As you step across the creaking floorboards, you grab JJ’s hooded flannel and tug it on as an extra layer. The old house warns of your coming: aching doors and whining floors. It’s dark as you venture through the halls until there’s a cosy golden glow from the living room. One of the lamps is on. You poke your head into the room to find JJ staring out the window into the thick of the night.
“Hey,” you broach quietly. He doesn’t jump. He must have heard you coming.
“Hey,” he replies, just as quiet, not bothering to turn. You make your way over and take a seat by his side on the coach. The sleepiness still lingers in your bones so you rest your head against his arm.
“How come you’re awake?” you wonder through a yawn.
“Jus’ thinkin’,” he murmurs. Something about the way he says it tells you it isn’t entirely peaceful thoughts. It feels too early to pry and too late to question. You know JJ as well as any Christmas carol; he’ll tell you when he’s ready. “I hate Christmas, y’know?”
“Does one of the J’s in your name stand for Scrooge?” you try to joke. He chuckles silently, his body shaking softly against your cheek. The skin of his arm smells like shea butter soap and sandalwood. “I didn’t know you hated Christmas.”
“Not as much anymore. Just when I was a kid. Reminded me of all the stuff I didn’t have. I don’t know…Guess it made me angry,” JJ drawls. “I mean, you know that I didn’t have all that much growing up. Dad was never around and never made much effort. It just sort’a ended up being another day. Except…”
“Except it wasn’t?” you offer when his voice trails off. He hums. You nod.
It’s hard to pass Christmas off as any other day when everything around you is screaming about how it’s so wonderful. The songs, the adverts, the windows, the houses, the movies, the people…All of it. It’s like insisting that you’re not hot whilst staring directly into the sun.
“And I would just count down the days until it was January again and everyone would just shut the fuck up about it, y’know?”
You hum. He sighs and you glance up to see him hang his head. His blonde hair is shaggy from sleep and dangles in front of his eyes. Sitting up, you reach out a hand and comb it back for him. JJ’s eyes are heavy with tiredness when he looks at you.
“We don’t gotta do anything for Christmas,” you tell him. Nodding your head towards the hall, at the other bedrooms, you add, “the others can do whatever they want but we can just do our own thing.”
JJ shakes his head, smiling smally. “You love Christmas.”
“Meh. I love lots of things,” you shrug with a smile and roll of your eyes. It was true, you did love Christmas, but you loved JJ far, far more. If celebrating was going to remind him of bitter days then you were more than happy to sit it out together. But JJ shakes his head again.
“We don’t gotta skip it,” he tells you. Your brows tug together. He still sounds deflated, losing his usual glow like a crack in the most stunning tree bauble you’ve ever seen. It must be easy to read on your face, the concerned curiosity. Shaking his head, he looks back out the window. He rakes his hands through his hair. “It’s stupid.”
“Maybe. Tell me anyway.”
Laughing quietly, he takes a breath and closes his eyes. “I…I’m scared to celebrate Christmas with you.”
You frown and try your best not to be offended. “Oh?”
“I just…God, how do I fuckin’ use words…" JJ sighs again, aggravated, and rubs at his forehead. Then, he looks down at you. The anxiety in his eyes makes you want to cry. “Christmas didn’t mean anything to me until you showed up. And now that we’re finally a...we...Well, I guess I’m scared to actual enjoy Christmas cause what if it goes back to being just another day?"
You try to follow his words like footprints in snow. Nodding slowly, you think aloud. “So you’re saying, what if you let yourself enjoy it, and then we don’t make it, and you have memories about Christmas that are actually happy?”
Laughing, he smiles, shaking his head, a little disbelieving. “You can always read my Goddamn mind.” But the smile slips away into sadness. Tears rush to his waterline and your heart cracks. You’ve never heard his voice so feeble, so raw, when he admits, “I don’t wanna lose you.”
Your joy at cracking the riddle is short lived. Sitting up onto your knees, you reach for JJ’s hand and take it in yours. You squeeze, hard. “You're not going to lose me. I’m never leaving, a’right? Ever.”
He shakes his head and closes his eyes, likely willing the tears away. “You don’t know that. Everybody leaves eventually."
“Hey,” you say, firmly, forcing his eyes open into yours. Nodding, sincerely, you affirm, “I mean it. I’m never leaving. You’re my home, JJ. All seasons round - not just Christmas.”
The moment wraps around you like a blizzard. Your smile is shaky, eyes damp, voice thick as you confide in him. “You’re all I have too, JJ. The only thing that matters to me. The only thing that I truly, deeply, love.”
JJ exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a lifetime. His forehead gently bumps yours as he dips it. “What’d I do to get you?”
Smiling, you lift a hand to cup his jaw. On your thumb that rests on his cheek you feel a teardrop. You wipe it away. Nobody else saw this side of JJ. The quiet, tender, vulnerable side. The times that the child that hid inside of him, safe from his father’s reprimanding hand, crawled out into the glow of moonlight. You’d never let that privilege be forgotten. Pressing a kiss against his lips, short and sweet like peppermint candy, you shrug.
“I think I'm the one that’s got the best gift of all.”
#jj x reader#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj#outer banks#obx#outerbanks#jj fluff#jj maybank fluff#jj smut#jj maybank smut#jj x reader fluff#jj maybank x reader fluff#jj x reader smut#jj maybank x reader smut#jj angst#jj maybank angst#jj x reader angst#jj maybank x reader angst#jj blurb#jj maybank blurb#jj x reader blurb#jj maybank x reader blurb#outerbanks preference#outerbanks fluff#outer banks fluff#obx christmas countdown#outerbanks christmas countdown#outer banks christmas countdown
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