#those moments where we are sitting with one other character doing whatever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 8 days ago

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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.

══════════════════

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.

══════════════════

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."

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singmyaubade · 3 months ago

Text

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

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stevieschrodinger · 1 year ago

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Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #my fic writing #fan fic stuff #fic wip #ficlet #rock star eddie munson #baker steve harrington #dungeons and dragons

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sunsetsover · 6 days ago

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you know, i think the reason people fall into the 'kant doesn't care about bison at all, none of what he's doing or saying is real' thing so easily is because he's so good at compartmentalising. it's one of the most consistent parts of his character. we get shown in damn near every single scene he's in: kant constantly sets his own feelings/opinions/wants aside in favour of getting done whatever it is he needs to get done. and if you aren't paying attention it gives off the impression that he doesn't care, but that isn't the truth at all.

i know i talk about kant's role as a big brother a lot, but i genuinely believe that's where it stems from. from the moment his parents died, he had to tuck his own grief away in favour of tending to babe's needs, both emotional and physical. and in ep 6 babe refers to kant as the one who raised him, so babe really must have been quite young when their parents passed - young enough that kant is the one he considers to have raised him, not them. and i know i already talked about it in this post but it's worth reiterating that that wouldn't have come without sacrifice for kant. from context clues it seems as though he went from a student just like any other to basically a single father to a young, grieving child overnight. and kant loves babe. he clearly prioritises his wellbeing - in every sense - above his own. and that means kant's own feelings and wants and desires and even his needs getting thrown aside over and over and over again in favour of babe's. this is a pattern that must have gone on for years atp. kant probably no longer knows any other way to be: he always becomes what other people need him to be. who he is and how he feels get smothered in favour of that every time. and please understand that him doing that isn't an act of manipulation, but likely started as him adapting to the circumstances he found himself in as a teenager and became so ingrained in who he is that he doesn't even realise he's doing it anymore. (besides you can see when kant is manipulating someone. it's completely different. he's not great at it.)

because i mean really, do you honestly think kant was never scared going out stealing cars? do you think he wasn't petrified when he was caught? do you think he never wished for something else for his brother, for himself? do you think he never walked through the streets at night looking for cars to steal, wishing he could just go home? wanting his mum and dad? wanting to someone to take care of him for once?

of course he did. of course he was scared. of course he was upset. he's not a sociopath, nor is he some kind of professional criminal. he's just a guy who's been doing whatever he has to to get by, and sometimes that meant doing bad things, but he still has feelings and wants and wishes beyond that.

but the thing is, as it always has been, is that above kant's wants or needs or feelings sits babe. babe's wants and needs and feelings. his wishes. his dreams. and so kant pushes his own feelings to the side so that he could do what he needed to do - first out of necessity, then because he had no choice. but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't still there. it doesn't mean he doesn't still feel them.

but what place is there for kant's feelings? what use are they? babe needs feeding. he needs education. he needs school uniforms and books and new shoes. he needs someone there, on the outside. kant is of no use to babe in a prison cell. so what good does kant's fear do? where do his desire and his wants and his feelings get him? nowhere. dreams don't put food on the table. so he tucks them away, time and time again. he's scared, but he gets on with it because there's no other option. he wants, but he has babe to think about, so what use is it wanting anything? wanting to go somewhere, to do something, to be with someone - what's the point when he can't have any of it. he has a child to take care of, and that child's needs must always come first. that's the sacrifice any good parental figure must always make. so that's what kant has done. he's spent half of his life pushing his feelings away in favour of making sure babe is good.

why, then, would love be any different?

style can love fadel. he can want him, and he can voice it, and he can show it, because style doesn't have to think about anyone other than himself. there's no one relying on him, not the way babe relies on kant. and so if he acts stupid and reckless and falls in love with an assassin, the consequences of that will be his and his alone to deal with.

kant doesn't have that luxury - the luxury of loving bison. he never has. he has babe to think about. and on top of that, kant can't allow himself to want anything because to him, wanting is useless. it's pointless. he never gets to have what he wants. and he especially can't allow himself to want bison, not when bison is literally his get out of jail free card. kant can't go to prison because he has to look after babe. and it's the same pattern all over again: babe comes first. what kant actually wants doesn't matter.

so he locks it away. he compartmentalises it. we've seen it over and over and over: he gets angry at christ and he swallows it because he can't afford to made him mad. he gets scared and he grits his teeth and smiles. he starts to feel something real for bison, starts to see him as something other than his ticket to freedom, and in the next breath he's reminding himself (or style) that he can't. that they just need to get the job done, asap. if the captain just arrests them, then it'll be over and kant will be free and he can tuck those feelings and those wants back in their fucking boxes and he can move on. over and over and over you see him trying to convince himself of that, because that's probably what has worked before: just one more car, just one more job, just one more time.

but the problem is it's not that simple. being in such close proximity to bison and pretending to love him has shaken the walls he's put up around himself, and they've started to crumble from the foundation up. the feelings that were supposed to be fake, that were supposed to be kept on the outside of the wall have started leaking in to where the real kant is. his walls haven't fallen down, not yet, but they've been breached. and now he's knee deep in these feelings that he shouldn't be having. now, no matter how hard he tries to resist it, he wants.

i think that's what makes the scene in the bowling alley so heartbreaking for me. when i saw the preview i thought that kant was doing it for bison's benefit, to make sure he has one last good night before he's locked away. which he definitely was. but i also think for the first time in the whole show we really get to see kant - no games, no agendas, no angles. even their first meeting wasn't entirely innocent like that - kant was putting on a persona to get bison into bed. but in that bowling alley, when they're all alone and no one's looking and there's a very real chance they'll never see each other again, kant just lets himself be. he lets bison see him, even the ugly parts, the parts that have him breaking into places and cutting off the cctv and stealing from the drinks fridge. because bison told him, didn't he? that he loves every story on his body, even the fucked up ones? so in that bowling alley kant is no longer trying to be some perfect version of himself, the one with no history or flaws, the one trying so desperately to win bison over. he's not trying to be christ's informant. he's not even trying to be babe's big brother for once. he lets himself just be kant.

kant, who wants to be alone with bison in the place where they first met. kant, who laughs so hard his body can't even hold him up. kant, who sets up a fucking projector to project the northern lights all over the walls because he saw the pictures on bison's wall and knew how much he loved them. bison never told him that. but kant is thoughtful, and kant pays attention, and kant is romantic, and none of it is an act. all of it is him, loving bison despite himself. wanting him to be happy. wanting to give and give and give because that's how kant loves: by giving until there's nothing left of him. by putting himself second and the person he loves first. it's what he did for babe, isn't it?

and it's the real kant who, for just a moment, lets himself be reckless and stupid like style gets to be, like kant never gets to be, when he looks down at bison's face and says should we just get in the car and run? and means it. he poses it like a joke, but he means it. he wants it. and it's the real kant who sits in the middle of a bowling lane and plans a trip with bison, who lets himself truly want something for the first time since he was a child, probably: 15 days, kant will drive, bison will run the playlist. they'll see the northern lights and the puffins and the waterfalls. and maybe it's the freedom of knowing he'll never get to have it that makes it so much easier to allow himself to want it, but isn't that so much worse? knowing the only way he's allowed to want anything is if there's guardrails up, keeping him in line? stopping him from making the mistake of actually thinking he ever gets to have what he wants?

none of that scene was an act. none of it. in fact imo the only person he actually puts a front up with in ep 6 was style, trying to convince him to just let them go. that it doesn't matter. bc that was all bullshit and he knew it. and you can think what you want about kant's actions and his feelings up until now, but if after watching episode 6 you still genuinely don't see that kant is head over heels for bison, then you're either not paying close enough attention, or you've let your bias/dislike of his character cloud your ability to be objective about what you're seeing, and i mean that. he is so obvious.

just because kant isn't expressing his conflict or his discomfort or his feelings the way style is doesn't mean he doesn't feel any of it. he does. his words are lies. we've already established that about him. but his conflict and his love are written all over him, all over his face, all over in his actions. the love he feels for bison is delicate and it's fragile but it's undeniably there. and if you don't see that then i genuinely feel sorry for you because you're not only missing out on half the plot, but you're also missing out on something so genuinely beautiful it makes my bones ache.

#the heart killers #kantbison #thk meta #that tweet abt kant wanting to get in bison's pants pissed me off so fucking bad like #respectfully some of you are getting your ass beat by the unreliable narrator of it all and that's a bit embarrassing #also yes i realise this is basically just a remix of the other post i made about kant #but i will KEEP making this post for as long as people keep mischaracterising him #which may just be forever i fear. bc if emotions aren't being spoon fed to the audience then they just don't exist at all apparently

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Wicked Games 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice sends a bristle up your neck as his apartment door opens. You crinkle the mostly empty bag of pretzels you discovered in the back of the cupboard. They’re stale. “I got you a surprise.”

He strolls in with his usual valiant triumph. You sneer as you smell something rancid. He has a paper bag in his hands and a reusable shopping bag on his elbow. You clamp your lips tight and gag, putting your fist to your mouth.

“Oh god,” you choke out, “oh--” You race over to the sink and wretch. “What is that?” You spew up the belly full of pretzels. “It smells like dogshit.”

“Shwarma... Tony suggested it--”

“Get it away from me! I asked for pickles!” You snarl and grip the counter as you puke. Your whole body shakes as you empty your guts.

“No problem, don’t gotta be rude about it.”

“You did this to me,” you snap between mouthfuls of bile.

He puts down the grocery bag and walks out with the paper one. You grumble and roll your eyes back against hot tears.

You’re left trembling and barely standing as you cling to the edge of the granite. This is miserable. If you’re not soul-suckingly hungry, you’re sick to the bone. You close your eyes as your mind stirs along with your stomach.

All those things he’s said. The little snippets of what could or might happen. The uncertainties. ‘Your symptoms could be worse’ or ‘we don’t know what the serum will do’. What are you? A lab rat!

You turn on the faucet without lifting your head to rinse the vomit down the drain. You would rather have stayed with Barrett. That thought, that mistaken whim, fades away. No, you wouldn’t. You’d rather not deal with either of them.

“I called a doctor. He’ll be by later to check on you. Make sure everything’s fine,” he affirms. As if that’s some comfort. You’d prefer if he’d just take you somewhere to get rid of the thing. “Hey, I can’t hear what you’re thinking but I can hear your heart. If you’re mad, tell me.”

“Why do you think... I’m mad?” You pant and pause to rinse out your mouth, spitting the water carelessly at the sink. You push yourself straight and huff. “You don’t care at all. You’re not the one...” you clutch your stomach. “...suffering.”

“I care. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he argues.

“Sure,” you drag your feet over to him, “where are the fucking pickles?”

“Just...” he bends down as you do and catches your hand before you can reach into the bag. “Sit down and relax. I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“What I need is an abortion--”

“Shut the hell up,” he keeps a hold on your hand and yanks you up. “Don’t you say that to me again. Got it.”

“Ow,” you wince and writhe in his grasp. “It was a fucking joke--”

“First, it’s not funny. Second, watch your language.”

You furrow your brow and wriggle until he lets you go. You rub your chafed skin and back up, “fine, Captain. Your order is my command.”

You slump away and sit at the table. Being still reminds you of the small aches that are getting a bit more noticeable each time you stop. In your hips, your back, even your tits. You lean on the table with one elbow and watch him. He takes out a large jar of pickles.

“Chocolate sauce?” You ask.

“You didn’t say,” he goes to the drawer and grabs a fork. He brings both to you and puts them on the table.

You pop the lid off with almost no effort. You hesitate for a moment but your hunger overtakes you. You reach in with two fingers and pluck out a thick dill. You bite into it, the juices flowing down your chin.

“Mmmph,” you gnaw on it until it’s gone. Your cheeks are full as Steve backs up.

“I did get chocolate. Oreos and some candy bars but you really shouldn’t eat too much of them--”

“Give them,” you demand as you shake a hand at him.

He sighs and drops them next to the pickles.

“You should try something more substantial. I could do up an omelette or chicken and rice--”

“Bland,” you dismiss his suggestion as you tear open the pack of oreos. You make a sandwich with two of the cookies and half a pickle. You shove half in your mouth and growl.

“God...” he mutters.

You look at him with a flash of rag. You chew and swallow and stand.

“Now you think I’m gross, huh?”

“No,” he watches you placidly. “I’m just concerned--”

“You weren’t that night when you didn’t put a damn condom on. Fucking a stranger.”

“I just told you to watch your language,” he sniffs.

“You’re not my goddamn father. I haven’t seen him in a decade and good riddance.” You stuff the rest of the cookies and pickle into your mouth.

“Right.”

You tilt your head and munch rapidly, another streak of agitation rising.

“What? You think I have daddy issues? Funny how men say that instead of thinking that they might be the issue.”

“I didn’t say--”

“No, you’re just standing there like—like a dumbass.”

“Last time,” he warns.

“Or what? What are you going to do, Steve Rogers? Can’t get me drunk this time, so maybe you’ll just hold me down and ra--”

“Don’t,” he grabs you by a fistful of hair. He’s fast and strong. You yelp. “That’s not what happened. You wanted it. You said so.”

“I was blacked out. I don’t remember,” you sneer through your teeth.

“You keep saying that but I can hear your pulse pick up--”

“Ouch. What is it, Cap? You only pick on the weak? You can’t fuck a drunk girl so now you gotta rough around a pregnant woman--”

He lets you go and raises both hands. His blue eyes are dilated and his jaw is square and sharp. “Enough. Alright. Enough. I went out and got what you want. Sit down and eat.”

You stare at him and rub your scalp. He sighs and drops his arms.

“Don’t act like you had it better before,” he shakes his head and picks up the shopping bag. “Or that you can do better than this.”

His words slice through you. It must be the hormones but self-awareness can’t take away that ache. He isn’t wrong, even if this isn’t what you want. You stagger back and sit.

Look at you. You’re some pathetic animal eating pickles and cookies. You’re disgusting. You’re... lost.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #wicked games #au #mcu #marvel #series #drabble #captain america #avengers

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lookahotman · 3 months ago

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Tied Up!

Sylus x Female reader

My contribution to the sub Sylus trope. I am so done with reading stuff where he would dominate the MC like come on y'all, have you not seen his cards, he would be the perfect Malewife.

tags: NSFW (It's not full on sex but whatever), Dom!reader, sub!character, sylus is handcuffed (from the bond moment),use of swear words(oh no!),dry humping, clothed sex

Also, this is the first time I have written anything, even smut, I promise I write better than this but you can also see this as me tweaking out cus there is not even sub love and deepspace content out there. Oh and this is also in first person POV cus I don't see that either.

One of these days I will surely kill Sylus.

The guy has made me run around for the past day just to find some stupid brooch I will need to attend the auction for protocores. He could have just put it in my hand and saved us both the trouble but no, everything seems to be a fucking game for him.

I have searched every nook and cranny, being caught by Sylus four times in the process, and yet that brooch seems to be nowhere. I am so exhausted, Time is a luxury right now, and I am running out of ideas for all the possible hiding spots

Does this brooch even exist or is he just fucking with me?

After Sylus throws me out of his room, claiming that he is 'going to bed', I just sit down and start doodling shit.

"Bastard! Now I get it. He never intended to make a deal with me in the first place!" I scream as I scratch the demonic sylus doodle I drew when suddenly Luke and Kieran start speaking from a distance, making me turn towards them.

"you're pulling your hair out over this, huh? If you want to do something, maybe we can help you." Oh please enlighten me, what could this guy possibly do? Steal the brooch from Sylus? He is literally his henchman. "what do you mean?" I ask, biting back my insults.

"if you want to conquer our boss's heart, you'll have to use a different approach. Luke then picks up a book and starts reading something "For some people, they get bored once they have everything. So only those who dare to challenge their authority can catch their interest."

Oh? Would Sylus really like that? Now I get curious as I walk over to the twins and take the book called 'Humanity and Conquer' from his hands.

"When you're dealing with such a person, you bow down and submit or take them out in one go. In other words…"

I raise an eyebrow at both of them. "Go on." the twins gave each other a glance and scream, startling me. "YOU STRIKE WHEN THEY ARE OFF GUARD!"

"Boss is the least guarded when he's sleeping, you only have one shot so don't waste this chance, just do it." Luke says, tossing me some evol sealing handcuffs and a Tranquilizer gun. He is right, My time limit is close to its end, I have to act now.

And that's how I end at up in Sylus's bedroom at midnight. Currently I am starting to have a lot of thoughts as I sit next to him and watch him sleep. "Man's gonna kill me the moment I pull this shit" "COME ON Y/N you are already here you can absolutely NOT back out now" "That's a very uncomfortable position to sleep in is he stupid he is going to get neck cramps when he wakes up" "He looks very hot while sleeping." Fuck. Denying it is probably of no use at this point. Something about Sylus makes me fucking weak in the knees. Is it his voice? His ridiculously handsome face? His body? Or the way he tests my damn patience. I am not sure. Seeing him like this though, how calmly he is breathing. How his exposed chest keeps expanding as he inhales, how those pecs flex while he is doing that, how vulnerable he is looking right now, It's stirring something within me. I want to devour him.

sylus…sylus? I slowly call him, ensuring he is asleep. This is not the time to be thinking about bull shit like that. get your head back in the game y/n. The aforementioned doesn't make any noise, completely oblivious of my presence as he keeps on sleeping, I take this chance and cuff his hand to the bed. "This is exactly what you get for all the terrible things you do." There. I cuffed his hand. Now what? Before my hand could even touch his body, he grabs my wrist and brings me closer to his face. Shocking me. I probably look like a deer caught in the headlights right now.

"Showing up uninvited at this hour… want me to tell you a bedtime story?" Wow. What a cocky bastard. well, not for long. "Don't talk to me in that tone mister, if anything you should be the one to figure out what's going on here, these handcuffs nullify a person's evol for an hour, so no matter how powerful you are, you are helpless as of right now." I say as I pin him down on the bed, his hand still cuffed to the nightstand. From here I can see how Sylus's chest starts falling and rising a bit faster than usual. Maybe I should tease him a bit.

"Really? what do you plan to do then since I have become your prey?" Did he actually just ask me that? Is he trying to provoke me, test the level of self control I practice? Oh well. I never had much self restraint to begin with.

"Hmm.. Let me think… How about.. This." I hear Sylus audibly flinch as I wrap my left arm around his torso and squish my left cheek on his left pecs. Comical. I had no idea I would enjoy riling him up this much. "What? A thorough body search is necessary don't you think? Or do you want me to stop? I ask, already aware of what his answer is going to be. After taking two long breaths, he chuckles, pretending to still be in control of the situation. "H-help yourself."

"Don't mind if I do." With that I use my free hand that's not trapping his body to grab his face. He immediately starts melting in my palm. I use my fingertips to give light touches to his cheek, chin and slowly rub his ear. His breathing seems to be getting heavier by the minute. I move closer to the side of his face. "Panting already? I have barely even touched you yet." I whisper, and then lick a long stripe across his earlobe, he is blushing so hard and even starts trembling a little bit as I proceed to give kisses down his neck. He is so cute. "Y/n…" He moans out softly unable to look into eyes and hold my gaze, to embarrassed to do so I guess. "What is it 'sweetie'?" He whimpers a bit at the word that he usually calls me. "P-Please…." "Please what honey? Use your words." "please!… please Kiss me." He says in such a meek voice, body hot to touch with all the flushing and blushing. And who am I to refuse such a polite request? I lean down and smash my lips to his. It was a hot makeout with our tongues rolling against each other, his mouth opening to give my tongue more access as I bite his bottom lip and yank his hair in the kiss, making him moan, again. God, He is driving me crazy. I can feel his hand tugging the handcuffs, he wants to break from it so bad. Although I doubt he won't be able to free himself. I release our mouths harshly, figuring that he must be out of breath by hearing his pants. His eyes are all hazy, blush creeping to his neck and chest, my god he looks so fucked out already. I slowly trace his chest with my fingertips and then all of sudden I feel something hard beneath his robe. "Would you look at that? You kept the brooch with you all along. It's as if you wanted me to touch you." Sylus starts chuckling at that. "I did." He replies, smirking, leaving me dumbfounded and speechless. "What?" "I did keep it with me. It was to see how far you were you willing to go to find this brooch, But mostly I wanted to do this just for you to touch me. Which is exactly what you're doing right now." Hearing that I put the brooch on the bedside stand, and then use my body to pin him down again. "So you did all this… just to grab my attention? My, my Sylus I didn't know you were such a slut." His breath hitches again, it seems to do that whenever I insult him. "What are you going to do to me y/n, will you punish me?" he says, while being all smiley. If a punishment is what he wants, Then it's a punishment he shall get. "Stop talking." I sit on him, cunt pressed to that raging boner he has gained, than I bit down his collarbone while grinding on his dick. "h-haah… Y/N! oh my god…a-ah~" If his breathing could get any heavier, then it just did, his eyes are starting to get watery, he starts thrashing around the bed but I don't let him go until I have made a nice reddish- blue mark on his collarbone. "Don't hA~Ah.. Don't tease please.." He exclaims shakily making me sit straight which probably added more pressure on his cock as I see his eyes roll back and back arch a bit. "Darling, can't you see I am punishing you? you cannot make demands here." Sylus tries to thrust up to get more friction but I block him, I am not going to let him finish him so early. What would be the fun in that? "lay still." Sylus infact does not lay still. He keeps moving, thrusts shooting jolts of pleasure through my body as well. I steady my breath, I am still the one in control. "LAY STILL SYLUS!" I slap harshly across his nipple, which seems to shock him. His eyes widen a bit as he lets out a loud whine and tears start falling from his eyes. And that's when something snaps within me.

"I-I am sorry, y/n… plEASE- aaagh~" His voice now a tad bit higher as I start twisting and rolling his nipples in my fingertips. "Oh my.. I didn't know you were this sensitive here." I then bend down and take one in my mouth, softly sucking on it and flicking the other one. I can feel his body turning into mush as I look up at him, Sylus is unable to hold my gaze, soft gasps and groans escaping his swollen lips, he looks so cute like this. I then release his nipple with a lewd pop and give the other one the same treatment, and while massaging the other pec, I grind on down him again. "T-tOo much. this is TOO MUCH! please let me hahh! pleaSE LEt me mOvE." I can literally see the hearts forming in his eyes beneath the puddle of tears. Maybe I should go easy on my poor baby. I place a gentle kiss on his cheeks and wipe his tears that were rolling down . And then I start riding him, or you could say humping, Sylus throws his head back on the bed, adam's apple bobbing and fists clenched. "Haa~! thankyou so much a-ah~ I'm.. yeah please use me just like that! thank you y/n THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUUU~" He starts to ramble incoherent words, a series of broken 'please' and 'thankyou's' and random chants of my name, it's all adding to the pleasure as the heat pools in my stomach, ready to be released any second. I feel like he is close to his release too. "I-I am ugh.. I am close y/n Please! please let me haaH~ Please let me…" "Go ahead baby. Cum for me." That's all it takes for him to cum in his robe, making it completely dirty below. I ride him throughout his orgasm and then lie on top of him again, head resting on his shoulder. We lay like that for quite some time when sylus starts speaking "Are you satisfied now? Please uncuff me Miss. Or I will do it myself." "I know you can. But you wouldn't dare." "oh yeah? why so?" "Because I haven't cum yet Sylus. You will only leave when I tell you to." I can feel Sylus twitching beneath me again.

This is going to be a very long night.

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AU: kill me

#love and deepspace #sub love and deepspace #lads sylus #subby men #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sub!sylus #sub!character #love and deepspace x reader

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feyreswaterybowels · 9 months ago

Text

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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skrunksthatwunk · 6 months ago

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some other adventures from this have been

three CONSECUTIVE scenes of kuwabara going "you're NOT gonna die on me again urameshi :((" during genkai's tournament. they JUST cut to him for that and then cut away it's SICKENING. like heyy reminder that kuwabara was traumatized a bit by yusuke's death teehee and then back to like. exploding shuriken fights

realizing how much they lean into the "fight me fight me fight me" stuff in the rando arc and how much less that's the case with time because like. they actually become friends who have other stuff to talk about now :)

great beasts/maze castle/saint beasts/WHATEVER arc (and genkai's tourny) has just. they're telling each other to shut up Constantly like even more than i thought

i think i mentioned this a while back but im working on an "every kuwameshi" video right (yes it's ridiculous i know somebody take them away from me) and i just need to say im so fucking sick of editing the saint beasts arc </3 pls i love that one normally but this section of the video is like. 70% silent group shots it's so bad and not fun to watch or edit and i hate it :[

#ok i know i said in the tags that i was really committed to the 'EVERY kuwameshi' thing but i might get rid of the shots where thhey're not #like. posing or interacting or talking or anything bc that's just not really worth it #it'd make it faster and probably better to watch #but i'm also worried that my focus on condensing it when i know it's gonna be such a long video #means that it'll be kind of an overwhelming barrage of content otherwise. which wouldn't be good for a long video like this #so group shots like that can create natural breaks. idk i'm not sure #i have not done this before :/ and i hopefully won't do it again with a series this long like holy hell #i will also say that some of the magic of kuwameshi is a little lost in that just because you have no point of reference for like #how they act w each other vs with everyone else. both in similarities and differences #you don't get a good grasp on how common these moments are relatively speaking and you don't get a great sense of their group dynamics #and it actually makes me kind of sad to hone in on only those two because like. everyone is so damn special there #i don't like yyh bc i think kuwabara and yusuke should kiss or whatever it's bc of how well realized these relationships (esp the #friendships and not-quite-friendships) are. they're so multifaceted that focusing on only two characters robs the audience of the context #those moments sit in. kuwameshi + hiei vs kuwameshi + botan vs kuwameshi + genkai are all different and special dynamics and by clipping #only those two it kind of flattens things a little. at least if you don't make an effort to pay attention to the remaining context while #watching. however i love those two and highlighting their relationship specifically doesn't inherently mean that they're the only ones #i think worth your time nor the only characters i care to see them interact with. yyh is very special to me and i don't want to diminish it #by reducing it to something with a couple of peak homoerotic relationships. it's far far better than that #however. since this is a tiny fandom and kuwameshi isn't exactly the most popular dynamic in the world i feel a little better doing so #because it's like.. it's not as if it'll sway the fandom's conversations THAT hard away from all the stuff we love about yyh right?#such that the ship is known before the media itself. at least that's what i hope. there's pieces of media i'm attached to mostly for certai #characters or dynamics and that's usually limited to media i'm not That into. but yyh is MINE and i don't want anyone to think this is all #about it that matters to me. ugh idk why i'm getting so worked up about this i just. don't want it to be reduced to uwu gayboy stuff ig #like yeah uwu gayboys you're not wrong i just. there's More Going On There #and although i like to think i focus on the Other Stuff a decent amount in all the media that means a lot to me it's very important that i #make sure to do that with yyh. i guess.#anyway im also thinking about making a kuwabara cat mention video. i have like 8 lines/scenes i'm thinking of lol #(there's more than i thought so ig i'll wait and as i work keep an eye out for more of em)

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suusoh · 5 months ago

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mwehehehehehhhhhheheheh... ok .... so my submission would be...

“Oh, to be eaten alive by you?” Johan chuckles quite loudly. a genuine, sardonically genuine chuckle. “What a pleasant way to die.”

(This one was surprisingly softer than I expected lol. Hope you enjoy riribells! Thank you for sending the dialogue prompt!!)

(tw: cannibalism mention ofc lol, slight yandere? catholic joke at the end, other than that, nothing else surprisingly)

Of course.

Of course, those are the exact things that he would say tonight. Though you really should have known better, than to watch some show with him where cannibalism is the central point of the plot. This one's on you honestly.

"Can—" you take a deep breathe before you continue, "can we please just have one, one, peaceful movie night?"

Johan's sitting beside you on your sofa as both of you stay in for your weekly night in, he's seated one space away from you, a small pillow acting as a barrier between you two. He always maintains that polite way of sitting when he comes over, like how one would sit when being a first time guest in a different home.

The only thing being that this is not in fact, his first time spending time with you here at your place. Numerous hang outs already happening within your humble abode, so maybe it's just your friend's general knack for good posture and deportment.

"Is there something wrong with what I've told you?"

He replies with a slight tilt to his head. You can't tell if it's from feigned or genuine confusion.

Your mouth just silently hangs open in a little 'o' shape. Thinking for a few seconds how you should even respond to that.

"Oh I don't know; the part where we're talking about cannibalism, the part where it's me specifically eating you, or the part where you find it a 'pleasant way to die' as you put it so nicely"

A small smile tugs on his lips.

He always smiles at you when seeing you react. Not in a way that's condescending (sometimes), but out of almost... genuine enjoyment. It didn't matter which approach you took.

Sarcastic or honest, nervous or nonchalant, bantering or silence. it was all the same to him: a front row view to you.

"I'm simply in topic. Are you telling me it's not normal, for people to discuss their thoughts and what they would do in the character's situation, while watching a show or movie?"

He's got you there you gotta admit. But still.

"Are we not even going to dissect your confession?"

"By all means." He nods.

His slight intrigue and the subtle excitement in his posture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You'll brush it off for now, another instance added to your growing personal collection of brushing off Johan's behaviour whenever he's acting kinda odd.

"...Actually, nevermind. I don't know where to begin with this. I'm just gonna not... talk... or think about it anymore."

You huff and lean back on the sofa again. His comment is out of pocket, sure, but you'll just let it go for now. Not really something worth making a big deal over. It's just another case of Johan being, well, Johan. And as he said, it's just harmless talk about what they're watching right now.

He watches you slump. He wants keep up this conversation, but he'll let you have your peace for now.

"Oh, alright then. Should I resume the show? We were— "

"— oh waaaaait wait wait wait a moment... did you say alive?"

You shoot up again. Eyes wide and brows furrowing. You know you look so cartoonishly shocked at him. You don't care. You are shocked. Why hide it?

"Hm, alive, yes. That's what I told you. Do you find this an issue?"

"You are alive in this theoretical cannibalism scenario with me. You are watching it unfold. You are breathing, you are conscious, you are awake, you are whatever else word similar with all those!"

Johan doesn't even move from his position. Still sitting and looking at you all politely. He is amused though.

"Should I not watch it all unfold? I'm sure it would be a pleasant sight..." his eyes look down and to the side as he revisits on some past thoughts. You see what almost looks like affection reflecting inside of it and you don't know how to feel about that. His eyes then return to you, holding his soft gaze with yours.

"I wouldn't mind. I'll even guide you through it."

"you'll... guide... me... through-"

you give up. You're done.

Exasperated groan leaving you as slump and deflate into the sofa . Mind too tired to fully talk about this right now. You grab the pillows near you and stack it around your head to aid in muffling out whatever word Johan says next.

You swear at this point, anything he says just gets progressively worse and worse. Baffling you more than cluing you in.

You enjoy the peace and darkness of your little soundproof world. There's bit of shifting on the sofa, then one by one, the pillows slowly move their way out of your face. He removes the last one, revealing you to the sight of Johan looking over you curiously.

"You know..." he puts the last pillow gently under the base of your head, "... all I'm saying is, just like the characters in the show, if there were truly no presence of food at all, absolutely nothing, and you were starving to the point of dying..."

He lightly pats your head.

"I think it would be a waste to not use my flesh for sustenance. There's nothing bad about it in the situation. Did you know that the people in the Andes mountain plane crash made a pact to their friends, that in the event one of them dies, they want their body to be consumed, in order for the others to keep on living?"

He smiles softly at that and something fills your chest with a slight warmth upon hearing his intentions. His explanation on the matter does make it seem a bit more pragmatic in a survival situation, not to mention it oddly has a sense of camaraderie to it.

"Well that's... very thoughtful of you then." You quirk a brow at him. Playful laugh almost bubbling out of your lips.

"Mhm. The reason I say 'alive'... well, I doubt you'd be able to do it without me instructing you. You'd be a blubbering crying mess while making all the wrong cuts, and I'd have bled out for nothing." He flicks your forehead.

"Hey!"

"Am I wrong?" he follows up by soothingly rubbing the spot where he flicked you.

"If just the mere thought of eating someone who willingly gives up their flesh for you to consume gets you this worried already... I wonder how you'll even be able to fare when you have to do the real thing."

You roll your eyes at him and swat his hand away.

"You're expecting me to act like that's the easiest thing on earth: eating the blood and body of a person you hold dear to you. I can't be normal about that, Johan!"

Johan can feel his finger twitch slightly. He stills himself impassive. How you effortlessly called him a person "dear" to you. Said with so little thought, and yet so undeniably genuine.

He thinks the notion odd, and nearly baseless. He's even sure at one point in his life he'd think you naive for that. But then again, he doesn't blame you. He does present himself as a friend to you... in fact, it's all he's ever been doing with you so far. Surprisingly. Also he did quite literally confess to letting you consume his flesh for your own benefit.

Not that he won't be getting his own benefits in that scenario.

With each bite you'll take, he gets to see parts of himself sustaining you, filling you, going inside of you and eventually being absorbed.

You'll swallow him, and he'd be so deeply ingrained by you at that point that you can't deny that he would be the blood running in your veins, he would be the branches in your lungs making you breathe, the ghost of him living within you, squeezing and squeezing your heart each second to pump it, as he lets you live another day.

He is inside of you;

mentally and physically.

Of course, the sight of you in tears and covered in his blood is just another adorably lovely cherry on top, but he won't tell you that. Saving all those intimate details for himself, preferably when he's alone.

...eating the blood and body of a person you hold dear. I can't be normal about that, Johan!

He chuckles softly. Patting your head again.

"Well, you obviously haven't seen Catholics. If they can do it, so can you."

#c.johan liebert #dialogue prompt series #johan liebert x reader #johan x reader #yandere johan x reader #yandere johan liebert x reader #yandere johan liebert #yandere johan #tw cannibalism mention #tw yandere

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thorough-witness-enjoyer · 5 months ago

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In the face of recent news about our beloved Destiny, I think it’s more important than ever for us as a community to come together and support each other in numerous ways.

It’s been a very hard week for all of us, especially those who lost their jobs and outlet for their passion in mass lay offs. Losing a position that allowed you to craft magnificent stories alongside some of the most ambitious people in the gaming industry, especially in worrying economic circumstances, must be excruciating to deal with and I wish the best for all those laid off from Bungie.

For us fans, it hurts more than anything to see the game you care so much for get put in headlines for how little that care is shared amongst the people responsible for making decisions on it. I’ve been into Destiny since it first dropped, making it the love of my life for nearly two-thirds of my whole existence , and to hear about how it’s just another product to be sold when it’s everything and more to me is just despairing. I wanted to become a writer and concept artist to create a game for others that made them feel as cared for as I did when I played Destiny and now I’m sitting here seeing all the people who helped foster that feeling be treated as another expenditure.

It’s awful, a lot of us are feeling really uninspired and betrayed at the moment, not sure we even want to see what will happen to this masterpiece of a game in the hands of the current executives. We are also dearly missing the developers, artists, writers, and more who made Destiny more than a fps looter shooter.

But it is times like these where we are torn and confused that we must uplift one another and not let the bitter taste of Bungie’s actions make us speak with hostility. This is not about decisions on whether to support Bungie or the actual game, but about refocusing on what truly makes Destiny enjoyable to so many.

Its world is immersive with care put into every story and that clearly shows in just how eager fans are to create masterpieces for it. It was never playing the game or the notoriety that kept me coming back for more, but the joy of creation I could share with others.

It stings to see a disinterest in nursing the potential of the Destiny universe from the executives with motivations other than monetary gain, but when the executives won’t care, we can. There are still employees at Bungie who adore their work and we can continue to support them by speaking up against horrible industry practices and show that we won’t abandon their efforts to make Destiny what it is.

Make ocs, write fanfictions, follow the former employees wherever they go, draw til your heart is overflowing, join Discords, roleplay, share headcanons, create aus with friends, do whatever keeps Destiny alive and flourishing for you!

Destiny will never die to me, even when it’s long forgotten and the servers shut down, because Destiny made me who I am and I intend to repay that gift an infinite amount of times over. The characters and universe will be alive and well to me until I die, regardless of the fate of the game and Bungie.

So go out and prove that Destiny’s themes of the power of community and hope are more than just morals behind a screen, that they are life changing messages that we will carry on despite hopeless news!!

Reblog charming artists, message people about ships you enjoy, leave questions and tags that contribute to conservations, write essays about what Destiny means to you!!

My messages and inbox for questions are always open if anyone would like to talk (I’m trying to get better at answering them, even if they are months late)! You are all welcome here and I want to start reblogging and liking more freely even if those things scare me sometimes!

We can decide our fates and we can decide the fate of Destiny’s presence in our lives as well! We can choose to care when others won’t and refuse to make our enjoyment debatable!! In troubling times, we should be able to reach out into the dark and find hands to hold onto tight!!

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game #d2 #destiny art #destiny concept art #destiny fanfiction #destiny community #destiny fanart #destiny oc #destiny au #I need to stop yapping #I love you all so much I love the people I’ve met in this community #destiny the game you are

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lainsshop · 11 months ago

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We’re Simply Meant To Be 𝜗𝜚

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: fluff, human alastor, out of character(?), tnbc, eveloping relationship(?) n probably more..

Song: Sally’s Song & We’re Simply Meant To Be - The Nightmare Before Christmas

A/N: Here we out.. Alastor is so Jack coded in someway like walk with meeee!! Not proud of this one tbh..

“… I sense there's something in the wind, that feels like tragedy's at hand-” The ringing in your ears and the dust around the destroyed hotel feel up your senses as you try to stand up. You were bleeding out after fighting against Adam with Alastor. You regained consciousness after remembering what happened, you coughed and begin to search for him.

“And though I'd like to stand by him,” You knew that he was okay but the changes are never zero, you couldn’t risk it- you couldn’t risk never telling him what you felt all those years being together before and after dead, even if it was a silly joke-

𝜗𝜚

“If we still don’t have partners by the age of 30, we should marry each other, what ya think?” You playfully suggest as you hand him a glass of rye. Soft jazz could be heard in Alastor’s radio as you both sat on his dining table. “Now, we both know that we won’t have a someone by that age, probably never.” He chuckled. “I know, I know- I was just joking.” You were lying.. deep down you wanted that, you wanted to be next to him and love him more than a friend but something was holding you back from confessing.

𝜗𝜚

“Can't shake this feeling that I have, the worst is just around the bend,” You continued to walk around, you couldn’t even see the rest of the crew so you were probably a lot farther from them. “And does he notice my feelings for him..?” Your legs betrayed you as you tumbled down on the ground, you became dizzy and rested against a demolished wall. “And will he see how much he means to me?”

“I think it’s not to be- what will become of me, dear friend?” You began to questioned yourself as you tried to push through the pain. “Where will my actions lead us then?”

Cough.

“Althought I’d like to join the crowd, in their enthusiastic cloud, try as I may, it doesn’t last… and will we ever end up together?” Questions. Questions running through your head.

What would happened? What if you weren’t so fucking pathetic and just told him everythi- “And will we ever end up together? No, I think not, it’s never to be ecome-“ You looked at your bloody hands as drops of tears started to appeared. This is your final moment? “For I am not the one..”

You were about to close your eyes as you heard footsteps, vague footsteps getting louder and louder and a radio static-

You quickly looked were the sound was coming from and you nearly jumped when you saw him so near to you.

“… Al-” “Shush, my dear, you’re severely wounded so I should suggest to not speak at the moment, hm?” A beat of silence.

“May I?” He was asking about your injury so you just simply nodded and let him do whatever. He started to help you with the wound. As he did that, he suddenly spoke- “… my dearest friend, if you don’t mind,” You looked at him wondering what he was gonna say next but he was trying to look for the right words and he looked at you with a soft gaze. “I’d like to join you by your side,” You felt a swirly feeling, you didn’t wanted to assume what he meant but you knew it was a positive gesture especially coming from him. “Where we can gaze into the stars-“

You see, there was rare moments where Alastor used to speak like this with you when y’all were alive, you never knew what he meant but in that moment you knew what he meant now. He was- “And sit together now and forever, for it is plain as anyone can see,” He gently grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss. You both looked at each other with a soft smile.

“… we’re simply meant to be.” You both serenaded.

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 9 months ago

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oh my god! I just read the modern time one and it gave me an idea!! hazbin crew with a modern reader that is just so chaotic. but like not even a dangerous chaotic and they could probably be killed by any demon but they just have no regard for their safety at all. if a demon makes them mad, the yell at the random demon (even if it's like Alastor or something, they just don't care) calling it something stupid. or if they so much as encounter a slight inconvenience they act like their dying all over again and then within a few seconds goes back to normal like nothing happened. but is overall just entertaining to have around the hotel

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel, Niffty, Sir Pentious & Lucifer.

Warnings: None.

A/N: We need more Chaotic!Reader in fics, let Reader be a drama monarch and be extra! Thanks for the ask!

𖤓Charlie

• She lost the count of how many times she apologized in your name to random demons on the streets and stores every time you two go out together, you simply have no filter.

• If a demon annoys you you'll scream at them, if they look at you in a way you didn't like you'll flip them off, you just don't care about your own safety and the fact that you're being rude for no reason and that kills her.

• Every week you'll have a behavior exercise where she'll make you be nice to a member of the hotel or simply do good deeds around hell, she even made you apologize to a demon that you fought in a clothe store once, that's your last favorite part of living in the hotel and you make that clear.

• But your behavior does come in handy sometimes, like when some random thought it would be nice to mess with Charlie and shit-talk her hotel, you threw your hot coffee on them making them run away with an angry grin. She didn't scold you that time but didn't say it was acceptable.

• “There are better ways to… resolve those types of situations, but I'm thankful that you stood up for me, that's another good attitude to have!”; “Whatever you say princess, you can thank me by buying me a new coffee.”

𖤓Vaggie

• Sometimes your way of acting annoys her, a lot, you're just so headstrong and so she is so you two just clash with each other a lot, and neither will give up so easily.

• You would make things that annoy her, like poking her or just making a few rude comments, and that would work because she would always have to hold herself to not put her spear on your throat and silence you herself.

• I imagine Charlie putting you two in one of those “get along” shirts, that didn't end up very well and you two almost threw punches with each other.

• The only moments you two middly get along is when a random attack happens at the hotel, what for some reason actually happens at least once a week, and both of you team up to beat the shit out of the demons, you two would he too tried to fight after.

• “You weren't so bad this time Vagina.”; “Don't make me add another one to my kill count.”; “To your what?”

𖤓Alastor

• You not being scared or intimidated by his presence annoys him like nothing else, he doesn't enjoy not being in control, he likes when people fear him and plead for their lives so your lack of care for his power makes his smile be a little more forced everytime.

• He dislikes your attitude towards him, but mostly dislikes how modern you are, you have no respect for him or the older demons, you're always using slangs he doesn't understand and is always so full of modern technology, he especially doesn't like the VoxTek phone you always carries with you.

• He's pretty verbal on how much he dislikes you, just how you are about him, he wouldn't be as aggressive like Vaggie when showing his dislike, he's more the type to give sarcastic comments than throw punches. There was only one occasion where he used his magic to make your phone get all glitchy with his presence.

• I also think he would like to try and correct you on things just out of spite. Sitting with your legs crossed? He'll tell you to sit properly. Bad posture? He touches your back with his staff making you fix it. Even when you're literally just doing your duties at the hotel, he'll tell you that you're doing it incorrectly to make you mad.

• “That's not how my mom taught me how to do it, you should try another way dear, maybe like that you'll actually be useful for something.”; “Oh, kiss my ass old man, come and do it yourself if you're so bothered by it.”

𖤓Husker

• Hates your guts 90% of the time, he hates the way you're just so careless like you aren't literally in Hell, he wonders how you didn't get yourself killed or had a beef with the wrong people already, you look like the type that would face against a Overlord.

• But he does like having you around the bar sometimes, he won't admit it of course, but he always offer you a drink after he sees you do something that annoys Alastor in the slightest.

• He also saved your ass a few times. When Charlie gives the hotel staff permission to have a night for themselves and go to a club, he just knows you'll enter a fight, doesn't matter how well the night is going, you always manages to get in trouble so he had to keep and eye on you all the time.

• After that fight at the club happened, just Like he tough it would, he has to carry your slightly bruised and heavily drunk body, putting one of your arms around his shoulders and holding you to make sure you don't fall while you state how annoyed you are that he got involved on your stuff again.

• “I could take that motherfucker, get my ass back there so I can show them.”; “And I wish I could take a break from you but we can't always have what we want, can we?”

𖤓Angel

• Do I even have to say he's the one that mostly enjoys your presence? He likes your attitude, your way of dressing, your personality, it matches his and you two can be just the most annoying pricks together.

• Your favorite activity when going out to do whatever is to silently judge sinners on the way, you and him would point at a random sinner while talking about their looks and shit-talking them just because you two can.

• If a sinner ever gets annoyed at you two Angel just knows that you're not going to stay quiet about it and will most likely try to fight them, and as the good friend he is, he's always there to help you out in a fight with some fire power.

• He makes sure to not talk about his boss though, he knows that if you learn about how horrible he's treated by him you'll want to go there and have a conversation with him yourself. He will make sure that you're far away from Valentino with your careless attitude.

• “You know what toots? You should meet my friend Cherri, you two were made for each other.”; “If she's anything like me then I know she's no good influence, when can I meet her?”

𖤓Niffty

• She enjoys your attitude, probably thinks it's attractive and will call you a Bad Boy (in a gender neutral way).

• She's probably giggling every time you're creating chaos or getting into a beef with another demon, you're just her type to be honest and she'll for sure start flirting with you in her own weird way.

• The only way I see her not liking your attitude is if you're openly getting things dirty, like not cleaning the dishes when it's your turn or not bothering to throw the trash in the trash can, the only thing that she likes more than people with bad attitudes e keeping things clean so that's the only way you can really annoy her with your way of act.

• “Hey bad boy, I made you a gift, hehehhehe~”; “How… peculiar… What are those?”; “The mother bugs I killed on front of their children and turned into a necklace.”; “.... Riggghtt…”

𖤓Sir Pentious

• The first time he interacted with you was when he attacked the hotel trying to fight Alastor and you commented on how noisy and weak he looked so let's say he was not very pleased with you at first.

• He's still very annoyed with you at first when he started living at the hotel and would give you the silent treatment, or at least try, he's not very good at just ignoring your rude comments, especially if it is about his looks, you just find his hat funny.

• After you two, forced by Charlie and her exercises probably, started to know each other he would start to like you, you two would just be so extra together, he's a theater kid and you're chaotic neutral energy what could possibly go wrong?

• Definitely tries to act a little bit like you after you two start hanging out, be it by trying to act a little more rude and confident or by trying to use more modern slangs and expressions. You can appreciate the effort.

• “So, wasn't I simply the coolessst ever?”; “If you use the word ‘cringe’ again I'm hitting you on the head with a brick.”

𖤓Lucifer

•If his first impression of your headstrong and somewhat cocky attitude is when you're being rude to Alastor or just your simple existence making the Radio Demon annoyed, he'll already like you.

• He would be surprised at first while interacting with you on how much you just didn't care, you would talk to him like he was a long-term friend instead of the king of Hell that you just met a while ago, are all people on earth like that?

• You would have to be a little patience with him, because he would ask you tips on how to act around people, you're younger and came from a newer generation, he can learn one thing or two with you, especially about the right ways to say insults, you don't need him saying “I'm going to fuck you” again.

• You remind him of Charlie's emo phase, he will chuckle every time you do something that reminds of her smug attitude in that period of her life. Don't be offended if he calls you emo, that's the only word he knows to describe your personality.

• “You remind me of my daughter you know, there was a time she acted just like you, I kinda miss that time if I'm being honest.”; “Are you… complimenting me or insulting your daughter?”

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sjsmith56 · 17 days ago

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A Family for Christmas

Summary: Bucky’s acts of kindness towards a single mother and her two kids leads to more.

Length: 4.7 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC, named OCCs (one boy, one girl), Pepper Stark, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson.

Warnings: Abandonment issues, brief mention of domestic violence, sweetness overload.

Author notes: Admit it, this is the dream scenario many of us want for Bucky Barnes. Just enjoy it.

One dark and dreary late afternoon in December

The lineup at the grocery store was long, as the Christmas season had started. Bucky glanced at what people had in their baskets, seeing mostly party food like fancy cheeses, charcuterie meats, snacks of all kinds and some things he had never heard of or seen before. Other than the lady in front of him and himself, everyone seemed to be buying for a Christmas party. The lady in front of him, with a small toddler girl in the child seat, and an older boy looking anxiously at the items she took out of the cart, kept a close eye on the tally. When it got to $95 and she saw how many necessities were still on the conveyor belt, she sighed at the boy.

"I'm sorry, honey, we won't be able to get the snack mix or the kids' cereal," she said, then looked at the cashier. "Could you remove those from the tally, please? I only have $100 to spend." The cashier frowned at her. "I'm really sorry."

"Keep it on," interrupted Bucky. "I'll pay whatever is over that amount." He looked sympathetically at the woman. "I know what it's like to not afford things."

Her lips trembled, then she swallowed, but she nodded her head and whispered. "Thank you."

After everything was put through, the amount owing was $123.45. Bucky peeled off two twenties, then said to give the change to the lady. When she started to protest, he smiled at her again.

"It's alright. You take your kids to McDonald's or something."

"Thank you again," she whispered. "You're a kind man."

He smiled at her, watching as she pushed her cart out the door. Her son kept looking at Bucky until they were outside, then he heard the boy just before the sliding doors closed.

"Mom, that was Bucky Barnes."

Smiling, he watched while the cashier rang his things through, paying cash for his bag of groceries. As he stepped outside into the chilly December air, he could hear a car being started and failing. The person tried several times, then there was the sound of crying and he walked towards it. It was the mom, sitting behind the wheel, weeping. Her son was leaning over from the back seat, trying to comfort her while the little girl looked like she was going to cry at any moment. Walking up, he knocked on her window and smiled as she lowered it.

"I could hear you trying to start your car," he said. "Would you let me take a look at it?"

"You've already done more than enough, Mr. Barnes," she began, flustered, as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'll figure it out on my own."

That brought a smile to his face.

"The thing is, you don't have to," he replied. "I'm offering and it's going to cost you to get someone to have a look. It's getting dark and I don't like the idea of you and your kids sitting here in a parking lot waiting. Please, let me help."

"Okay, let me just pop the hood," she said, reaching below the dashboard for the release mechanism.

He lifted it up, pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight, looking at the engine. Then he went back to the window.

"What's your son's name?" he asked. "I'd like to borrow him to hold the light up so I can see what I'm doing."

"Liam," she answered, then she looked back at her son. "Would you help Mr. Barnes?"

He grinned at his mother, then opened the door. Bucky shook the boy's hand as if he were a grownup.

"Would you hold the phone up so that the flashlight is on where I need it?" Liam took the phone and aimed it to light up the area while Bucky began checking the wiring. "When I was a boy, it was a tough time for families. People got sick and died, some men lost their jobs and took to the road to find work, leaving their families behind. It was important for friends and neighbours to help those who needed it. I don't know how many times my mother made extra and sent me with food to a family that needed it."

"My dad left," said Liam, bluntly. He looked up at Bucky. "Said he didn't want to be a dad anymore because it was too much for him. I heard him tell my mom one night and, in the morning, he was gone."

Bucky hesitated, sickened at what he just heard. "I'm sorry. That makes you the man of the family now and that's a lot for a boy your age." He looked over at the woman. "Try it now." It still didn't catch, and he put up his hand for her to stop. "Does she have a job?"

Liam nodded. "Part-time so we don't have as much money. She cries every night after she gets home and Grandma leaves. I'd find a job but I'm too young." He wiped his eyes. "Why did he do that? Why did he stop loving us?"

"I wish I had an answer for you," said Bucky, "but I don't. I'll tell you what, Liam; I'm going to talk to some friends of mine and see if we can help you out, okay?"

He found what he thought was the problem and asked the mom to try again. This time the engine caught. Taking his phone back from Liam, he closed the hood and walked the boy back to the back seat door. Then he leaned down.

"I found a loose wire and fixed it, but it may come loose again," he said. "If you want, I can come over and do a better fix during the day. I'll give you my number and you let me know, okay? I wouldn't turn your car off before you get home, so maybe go through McDonald's Drive-Thru for dinner."

The woman swallowed and looked up at him, almost ready to cry but she nodded, and unlocked her cell phone, offering it to him. As she drove away Bucky memorized her licence plate number and made a phone call. After a short conversation he hung up and drove back to his place. He had some homework to do.

The following morning, he received a phone call from the mom, Lorraine, telling him that her car wouldn't start.

"I hate to be a bother," she said, "but I need it for work, and I can't afford to get it fixed at the garage."

"It's no problem," replied Bucky. "I offered. Give me your address and I'll come over."

Half an hour later, he arrived at her place, noticing the house had a For Sale sign on it. Lorraine met him at the door, all bundled up, then said she would open the garage door from inside. After meeting him inside the garage she retreated back into the house. The car had the hood up, as it appeared Lorraine tried to fix it herself before phoning Bucky. In the light of day, it was obvious the car was worn out. Carefully, he checked all the connections, tightening what he could. He started it up, let it run for a bit then stopped it before trying again. This time there was nothing except for a clicking sound and he sighed; it was a bad alternator. He could buy another one and install it but from what he just saw of this car there were other parts ready to fail. Taking his phone out, he phoned the number from the evening before.

"Hi, it's Bucky. I'm at the lady's house, trying to get her car started. It's worse than I thought. The car's old and worn out, and even though I can fix the immediate problem it's just a matter of time before the next part fails." He listened for several moments. "Her house is up for sale. I haven't talked to her about it yet but she's definitely in a tough position." The person on the other end of the call must have suggested something because he nodded his head. "Alright, I'll give it a try, but I would rather be the one tracking down the husband and making an example of him."

Removing the keys and lowering the hood, Bucky went to the front door and knocked on it. Lorraine arrived with her toddler on her hip, looking hopefully at him. He gave her the keys grimly.

"It's the alternator and I can fix it, but that car is already falling apart," he said, as kindly as he could. "It's only a matter of time before something else fails on it."

She swallowed, nodded her head and turned away so he wouldn't see her tears. Digging into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a clean handkerchief, offering it to her. That set her off and she walked back inside crying, leaving him at the door. Reluctantly, he entered and felt his heart break at what he saw. There was only a couch and end table with a lamp on it in the living room, no furniture in the kitchen or dining room. The couch had a sheet, blanket, and pillow on it. It was cold in the house, which explained why she and the toddler were dressed in several layers of clothes. As she sat on the couch, she wept for several minutes then gathered herself.

"It's been six weeks since my husband left us," she said, her emotions making her voice crack. "He took the car, cleaned out our savings and said he had enough of being leeched off of. Blamed us for all of his troubles, like we were the ones who got him fired for drinking on the job. I had another bank account that he didn't know about. I used that money to buy the car, as it was all I could afford. My mom looks after the kids when I have to work but she doesn't like it when I work an evening shift because it means she has to go home on the bus in the dark. I don't even get full time hours and there's no benefits. If any of us gets sick ...." She stopped, taking several long breaths to calm herself. "I've sold almost every piece of furniture in the house, except for this and the kid's beds. I sleep here on the couch. The heat is turned down to barely enough to keep us warm at night. I applied for welfare but because I co-own the house and have a job, they say I'm ineligible. I don't know what I'm going to do."

She looked up at Bucky, as he stood in front of her. He saw in her eyes something he hadn't seen since he was a boy during the Depression. It wasn't just despair; it was desperation. She was at the breaking point. He gestured to a space next to her on the couch, only sitting when she moved over for him.

"I was a boy during the Depression. I saw the worst in people, but I also saw the best, often from my own family. No matter what I went through since then I've tried to live by that since I became a free man. After I saw you last night, I gave your licence plate number to a friend, and we've already put things into motion to help you. Until we get everything in place I'll do what I can for you. One of the first things we'll do is to get you a reliable car. The one in the garage isn't it. So, we're going to pick up a rental. It will be paid for by my friend."

"Okay." Her voice was shaking. "How will I pay your friend back? My job isn't the best paying. It's a struggle to keep a roof over our heads."

"You don't," smiled Bucky. "She can afford it. As for your job, we think you should quit and focus on taking care of your kids and your personal life. She's going to hire you herself but is trying to find the right position that will allow you to have a work / life balance as she's a single mother herself. You know what she means?"

Lorraine nodded her head. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"There's more," he smiled. "We've put someone into finding your husband." She looked alarmed. "Not to make him come back, but to make him accountable. He cleaned out your savings account, so it's only fitting that he gives you sole title to the house. We're looking for a place for you and your kids, your mom, too, if you want. Until we get you moved into that new place, you crank up the heat here. I'll help you get some more furniture, a TV and maybe one of those game systems for Liam. He's a good kid and I can tell he wants to help you as much as he can."

"You would do that for me?" she asked, ready to cry again.

"Not just me," he smiled, then placed his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it. "My friend assigned me to be your helper. So, how do you feel about doing some furniture shopping, then I'll take you and your little miss for lunch before we pick up your rental car?"

If gratitude could be measured, Bucky was sure Lorraine was overflowing with it. Perhaps it was just knowing that someone cared enough to help, without expectation of repayment, that made her face light up in a way that made him feel good. They bought some necessary furniture, including a new bedroom set for her, and for the dining room, to be delivered first thing the following morning. They picked up a television set and game system as well. By the time lunch was finished, Bucky received a text message that the rental car was ready for pickup along with some other necessities that would be waiting. He felt like Santa Claus, after giving Lorraine a bank card with some funds already deposited that would allow her to look after herself and her kids until she started her new job. When he brought the television and game system to the house, he was met by a Stark Industries technician, who set it up for the family.

"Go pick up Liam from school, get some more groceries, and don't worry about money," he advised, before he left. "You have my phone number. Call me day or night. I'm at your disposal."

When he did receive a call, a frantic one made by Liam, two nights later, to report his father had shown up at the house, hit his mom, and broken the TV set in a fit of rage, Bucky wasted no time in getting there, quickly dressing, and asking Wong for a portal to the house. His wish to make an example of the father was granted as he entered the house, lifted the man one-handed, and held him against the wall, while instructing Lorraine to call the police.

"Pack some bags for yourself and the kids," he said, as her husband was being led away in handcuffs. "You're staying somewhere else tonight. I'll let my friend know that you need the new place sooner rather than later."

How a man could treat his wife and kids the way her husband had was beyond Bucky's comprehension. If they were his family, he would be beyond the moon to have Liam as his son, Larissa as his daughter and Lorraine for his wife. They deserved so much more than what her husband had subjected them to.

Three weeks later

After locking up the house, confirming it was all cleared and clean for the new owners, then giving the realtor the keys, Lorraine walked back to Bucky's car, not looking back at where she once lived. In the three weeks since she was at the lowest point of her life, she had learned to look forward to the future. Already set up in a new apartment, they had only stopped to meet with the realtor one last time to hand over the keys. Smiling back at Liam, her mom, and her daughter Larissa, she sat in the front seat with Bucky.

"So, where to now?" she asked of the man who had become her friend in that time.

"That's a surprise," he said. He looked back at the kids, smiling at Lorraine's mom, who still didn't quite trust him, then put his SUV into gear. "We have a company function to attend where you'll meet some of your new colleagues and their families."

"Is it a Christmas party?" asked Liam.

"It is," smiled Bucky. "I heard a certain jolly old man might be there."

"Santa." Larissa beamed at Bucky through the rear-view mirror, her toddler voice full of excitement. "I want Santa."

"We'll see when we get there, won't we?"

When they did get there, a prestigious hotel complete with valet service for the car, even Lorraine's mother was awed at the setup for the Christmas party. After checking in at the desk set up outside the banquet hall, Bucky escorted them inside to a winter wonderland, complete with people dressed as elves. It was full of the lights and sounds of Christmas. Larissa, overwhelmed a little, asked to be lifted up and carried by her mother, while Liam stuck close to Bucky, eventually grasping his hand, which pleased the big man immensely. He saw Pepper Stark in the distance and led the others towards her. Her face lit up when Bucky introduced them to each other.

"Lorraine, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," she smiled. "These must be your kids, Larissa and Liam, and Bucky said he convinced your mother to attend. Welcome all of you."

"It's you," gasped Lorraine. "You're the friend who's been helping us."

"Guilty as charged, although it was Bucky who got it going," said Pepper. "He couldn't bear the thought of what you were going through. I was in a position to help, and it was totally my pleasure. When you start in the New Year, you and I will have a good sit-down time together and we'll talk about a lot of things but today, just enjoy yourselves and eat, drink and be merry."

She squeezed Lorraine's hand, then smiled up at Bucky before greeting another attendee and their family by name.

"Come on, let's find a place to sit," said Bucky.

He saw Sam at a table with Sarah and the boys, waved to them and asked to join their table. Lorraine and the kids had already met Captain America in the few weeks since Bucky first met them, but her mother was almost dumbfounded at sitting with the famous hero. It wasn't just a Christmas party, there was also dancing, and a place for the kids to try out the latest in games. AJ and Cass invited Liam to join them in playing video games. Breathlessly asking permission of his mother, she nodded then glowed at how happy he seemed to be included by the other boys. When the band began to play The Christmas Song, Sam asked Lorraine's mother to dance, receiving a giddy acceptance. Bucky looked at Lorraine.

"What do you say? Would you like to dance?"

"We'll have to take Larissa with us," she answered. "I'm not much of a dancer."

"Not a problem," he smiled, then offered his arms to the three-year-old. "Do you want to dance with Mommy and me?"

"Pease!"

With big grins on their faces, Bucky held the toddler between them, then managed to lead Lorraine through the dance. Sarah watched, happy at how animated the super soldier seemed on the dance floor. Sam had told her about the woman's struggles and how Bucky became friends with the family after meeting them at the grocery store. She could see the beginnings of something between the couple, although he was too much of a gentleman to do anything while Lorraine's divorce petition had just been filed. As much as Lorraine and her kids deserved to have a good life, so did Bucky, and Sarah found herself hoping for the best for the tall super soldier.

One year later

The ten-year-old boy was on guard at the door of his bedroom while Bucky wrapped up two presents for Lorraine. The first present was a framed sign made by Liam with decorations by Larissa, and the second present a small box containing something special from Bucky. Liam heard his mother talking about leaving the kitchen and whispered at the dark-haired man.

"She's coming!"

"It's okay, I'm done," said the super soldier. "I'll let you put them under the tree."

Handing them off to the boy, he left the bedroom, heading towards the sound of Lorraine before she stepped out of the kitchen. Stopping in front of her, he placed his hands on her waist and maneuvered her to some mistletoe that was hanging. With an amused shake of her head, she raised her cheek to him for a kiss but was surprised by a full kiss on the lips.

"Bucky, what's got into you?"

"Collecting my mistletoe tax," he grinned. "I'm going to need several instalments."

Larissa tugged on Bucky's shirt. "Me, too?"

"You, too, little girl," he laughed, lifting her up until her head touched the mistletoe, then bringing her down so she could kiss his cheek. "Both my girls need to pay up. Your mom, too, when she gets here."

"Good luck collecting that," joked Lorraine. "She still thinks you're up to no good."

"Not anymore," he thought, recalling the special visit he made to her for her blessing.

Offering his help in the kitchen, he was soon chopping vegetables up for snacking on, as they were hosting several close friends on this Christmas Eve. While he did that Lorraine arranged cheeses and sliced meats on some platters along with crackers. It was easy to assemble and didn't require any time over a stove. With everyone ready, they both changed into something suitable for a family and friends Christmas.

The gathering was enjoyed by everyone present as Christmas songs played in the background, the kids played video and board games while the adults talked of many happy things. When it got close to Larissa's bedtime, Bucky called for everyone's attention.

"Before our little princess heads up to bed, I promised that she and her brother could give their mother a present." He pulled their special present out, handing it to Larissa to give to her mother.

"We made it together," announced Liam, as his mother unwrapped the box, then took out a framed handmade sign that puzzled her at first.

"What does "Say yes!" mean?" she asked, confused. "Is this about getting a puppy?"

"No, Mommy," laughed Larissa, then she reached under the tree for Bucky's present, and pulled him by the hand towards Lorraine. "Go ahead, ask her."

Several of the others gasped audibly, guessing what was happening. Bucky went down on one knee, then showed Lorraine the wrapped second box, holding it in front of her.

"Over a year ago, I met a wonderful lady, her son, and her daughter, on probably the worst day of their lives, but it was the beginning of something wonderful. I found someone that needed what I was ready to give, my love and my commitment. Lorraine, I can't imagine a life without you, Liam, and Larissa. Would you do me the honour of marrying me, becoming my wife, and allowing me to be a father to these incredible children?"

He handed her the box, then watched as she unwrapped it, opened it, and revealed a beautiful solitaire diamond engagement ring. With her lips trembling and her eyes glistening, Lorraine took the ring, placed it on her left ring finger and began to cry.

"Mommy, say yes," demanded Larissa, making everyone laugh.

"Yes, I'll marry you," she answered.

With a cheer from everyone, and Larissa clapping her hands excitedly, the couple kissed then Bucky pulled both kids in for a hug from him and their mother. As the others gathered around them, wishing them congratulations, Sarah Wilson sat and smiled at the happiness that radiated from Bucky's face, making him look younger than he ever did since she first met him. Sam sat next to her and nudged his sister in the side.

"You called that right," he said. "You knew a year ago it would come to this. How did you know?"

"Because they each found something they needed," she answered. "She found someone who was kind and giving. He found someone who needed him to be there for her. It was as plain as the sun shining in the sky."

"Right," he grinned. "So, you think they were meant to meet?"

She smiled at her brother, squeezing his hand. "If you meet the one you want to spend the rest of your life with then yes, you were meant to meet. You just have to open yourself up to the possibilities, Sam. You know that."

He did know that. Offering his help to Lorraine and her kids had opened Bucky's heart and now the man had a family for Christmas. It couldn't happen to a better person.

Later, after everyone had left, Bucky and Lorraine tucked Larissa into bed, then sat with Liam, as he snuggled down under his covers.

"You were surprised, weren't you Mom?" he asked. "Bucky asked me and Larissa first, then Grandma next, if he could marry you."

"You did a good job keeping that secret," she answered. "I was very surprised and I'm going to put your picture up where everyone can see it."

He grinned, then he looked at the super soldier. "Can I call you Dad?"

"If you want, I would be honoured. Liam, I want to adopt you and Larissa. Are you okay with being my son and taking my name?"

The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. "Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad."

They both kissed him on the forehead, returning the words. As the couple bustled around, cleaning up the last few things from the party, Bucky looked above Lorraine's head, noticing the mistletoe. He stopped her, taking some dishes from her hands and placing them on a counter. She looked up at him, her face glowing with the love she felt for this man who became so important to her and the kids in the past year.

"Final instalment?" she asked, looking at the mistletoe above his head.

"Nope." He shook his head. "That's a lifetime tax, payable on demand."

They chuckled, then kissed, sweetly at first then with more passion and intensity.

"With kisses like that we'll end up with another child very quickly," she murmured.

"If you want," he answered softly. "Do you know when I first envisioned having you and the kids as my family?" He breathed out noticeably. "It was the night Liam called about your ex showing up. I felt such a panic that I wasn't there. I wanted to protect you all from ever being in that position again. By the time we went to the Christmas party I wished for you and the kids to be my family some day." He caressed her hair. "Even though we started living together two months ago, today you gave me the best Christmas gift ever."

Lorraine's eyes were glassy as she listened. She placed her head on his chest while she hugged him, still not believing that this man was hers.

"I wished for the same thing," she whispered, before looking up at him. "You were kind to us from that first moment in the grocery store and it was something that had been missing from our lives. Thank you for being there when I needed someone like you the most."

"Always."

They kissed again, turned off the lights, and headed up to bed, where Lorraine's comment about the quality of Bucky's kisses proved prophetic. By the following Christmas, there was another stocking hung up on the fireplace but that is a story for another time. Needless to say, they both got their Christmas wish and more.

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