#but i got three different requests for this so...

[e1e4n0r5]

Got a Lil Sugar: Chapter 3

Masterlist, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Sugar Mommies Cait & Vi x Sugar Baby Reader

Words: 2871

Synopsis: After almost a month online, someone finally makes you smile

Warnings: Financial distress, sex work, creeps on the internet, FLUFF

Week four of attempting to save your finances.

You’d thought, stupidly, that this would be empowering. That you’d feel beautiful. Wanted.

Instead, you just felt…Cheap.

Desperate.

Ashamed.

Even the conversations with the nice ones didn’t make you feel good.

You were on the verge of shutting the app down entirely, telling yourself this was a mistake, you’d figure out something else to make money.

You didn’t check your inbox for a day and a half after the live stream, following Mel’s advice to look after yourself first. The people would wait.

Then you finally returned to the app, feeling no lighter than you had before. It was almost overflowing, making your head hurt when you saw the sheer amount of filth you had to wade through.

hey baby can i see those tits again? – $30 sent

You looked so pretty last night, I wanna fuck you so bad – $20 sent

can u send me a vid of u painting ur toes? I like blue! – $50 sent

And on it went.

A message with two new names caught your attention.

Caitlyn & Violet

The profile photo was simple: two women, one taller with blue hair in a fitted designer dress; one broader with pink hair wearing suit trousers and a shirt open to mid-chest, with a line of text beneath it:

We’d like to spoil someone who can handle both of us

Their first message was short, sent just after your live stream.

Good evening, Y/N. You caught our eye. Would you like to talk?

You stared at it for a long moment, your heart thudding, your lip caught between your teeth.

And then, with fingers just slightly trembling, you typed back.

Hello. Sorry for the late reply, I took yesterday off. Yes. I’d like that.

The reply came back almost instantly.

That’s what we wanted to hear.

Even just the sight of it on your screen gave your stomach a flutter.

We’re not here to waste your time, or ours. We like taking care of someone who deserves it. You made an impression.

You swallowed hard, reading it three times over before you managed a shaky little.

I appreciate that. I’ve only been here a few weeks, to be honest. Still figuring it all out.

Don’t worry, you can figure it out with us.

A notification from your cash app buzzed through.

Caitlyn & Violet sent you $20: For coffee while we chat

Your breath caught.

They didn’t even ask. They just did it. And it wasn’t for anything sexual!

We’re not here to make you feel uncomfortable. If at any point you’d prefer we stop, just say so. But we’d like to get to know you.

Then another message chimed in, with a different tone. A little cheeky.

Cait’s just being polite. what she means is: we think you’re cute. don’t ghost us yet, okay?

So that was Violet. You read back the messages, realising you had first been messaging Caitlyn. You nodded to yourself, noting their different vibes and punctuation.

Tentatively, you replied:

Not ghosting. Just nervous.

that’s okay, you’ll get the hang of it soon

And you felt like you were.

You spent the next few hours talking to lots of people as you caught up on messages and requests, but Caitlyn and Violet were the only ones who gave you butterflies. There was a nice man who’d already sent $80 in small chunks when you said something that made him laugh, but he was still…You know…A man.

A few women were still in the mix, and you’d sent some small photos back to them and some men when they gave you a tip, mostly of your feet, which still gave you the ick. But at least it was profitable – a total of $485 thus far.

That would cover your medications and some groceries.

Mel had been right; over the weeks, you'd gradually started accumulating some ‘regulars’ and you were able to start earning pretty consistently each day.

Around 7pm, you were starting to get hungry.  Just as you were about to make another meal of the cheap ramen noodles with some awful sausages, a message came through.

Why don’t you order dinner, darling? These types of discussions are best done on a full stomach.

You blinked as another notification lit up your screen, this time $50.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh, the shame and bile from earlier softening, just a little.

You really don’t waste time, huh? you typed, before you could overthink it.

not when we know what we want

And just like that – even though you still felt nervous, still felt way out of your depth – it didn’t feel quite so scary anymore. It felt like maybe you could let yourself enjoy this. Just a little.

Thank you, you typed back finally, fingers steadier this time. I’ll see what’s on the menu

Good girl

You weren’t sure who that was, but it made your chest feel hot.

You set your phone down and curled your knees to your chest, a tiny smile playing at your lips.

You were still messaging with Caitlyn and Violet – and others – when your food finally arrived; steaming cartons of pad thai and dumplings stacked neatly in a paper bag, a treat you hadn’t been able to afford in years. You snapped a quick photo of the spread on your coffee table and sent it to them without even thinking, along with a shy:

Thank you. This smells amazing.

A reply came fast.

you deserve good food, baby

Cait added, a little more restrained but no less warm: Enjoy, and take your time. We’re not going anywhere.

That made your stomach flip, in a good way, and you smiled to yourself as you set the phone aside long enough to dig in, savouring the first proper meal you’d had in weeks.

Halfway through, your phone buzzed again, this time a call with Mel’s name flashing across the screen.

You wiped your fingers quickly and answered. “Hey-”

“Sweetheart,” she interrupted in a hushed voice. You could hear clinking glasses and faint music in the background. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you! It’s just been one Daddy after another! I’ve got two minutes while this one’s in the bathroom. How’s it going?”

You hesitated, glancing at the coffee table littered with takeout containers and your phone screen still glowing with Caitlyn and Violet’s chat window.

“Um…Good and bad,” you admitted quietly. “But I’m chatting with someone nice. Well, two someones.”

“Two separate someones, or a couple?”

“Couple.”

Mel hummed thoughtfully on the other end of the line. “Interesting, that’s not very common. A man and a woman?”

“Two women. They messaged me right when I was about to give up,” you said. “It just feels different with them. They’re…” you trailed off, struggling for the word.

Mel finished for you. “Genuine?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she said approvingly. “That’s what you want. They’ll keep you sweet if they’re the real deal. Polite, generous, and clear about what they want. If you’re not sitting there feeling creeped out, that’s a good sign.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at that. “They already sent me coffee money earlier. And then dinner.”

Mel laughed, clearly pleased. “Alright, listen: finish your food. And take a picture of yourself with it, cute little smile, hint of cleavage, and send it to them. Thank them for spoiling you. It makes them feel all warm and fuzzy, and keeps them hooked. Trust me.”

You bit your lip. “…Isn’t that-?”

“Are you about to say ‘manipulative’?” Mel supplied cheerfully. “No, angel, it’s manners. They bought you dinner, they gave you a spoil. Now, show them how much you liked it with a little bit of sugar. You want them to want to do it again, don’t you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and keep them sweet,” she said lightly.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at her seductive tone. “Okay, okay. I will.”

“Attagirl,” she said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Okay, he’s coming back. Call me later if you need to talk. You can do this. We’ll have lunch tomorrow!”

And then she was gone.

You took a deep breath, then carefully put the chopsticks in a takeout box, picked it up, and held your phone up at arm’s length. One soft smile, a slightly higher angle to hint at your cleavage, one little click, and you sent it to them with a simple message:

Dinner’s perfect. Thank you for taking care of me.

You’re welcome, baby. You look lovely.

damn right you do, that smile’s worth every penny

Your cheeks went hot, and for the first time all day, you let yourself grin – really grin – as you curled up on the couch again.

Maybe Mel was right.

Maybe it did get easier.

You woke up to the glow of notifications on your phone again. Dozens of messages on the app, and several notifications from the cash app.

You propped your head up on a pillow, scrolling through the notifications.

Some of the messages made you smile faintly.

Good morning, beautiful. Breakfast on me today? — with $15 attached.

Loved talking to you last night. Can’t wait to hear more about what you like. — $20.

You seem like such a sweet girl. Hope you have a good day. — no money, but at least polite.

Some of them were less nice.

Hey why didn’t you answer me last night? You’re not even that hot.

Bet you’re just here to scam people. Pathetic.

You grimaced and blocked them all without replying.

You kept scrolling, trying to remember what Mel had drilled into you: Talk to as many as you can. Don’t get attached. Every one of them is a potential payday.

And yet…

Your thumb stilled when you saw Caitlyn & Violet at the top of the list, just like last night.

Good morning, sweetheart.

You felt your chest warm at the sight of it.

The next message came a few minutes later, they must have sent it when you didn’t respond right away.

Don’t forget to eat something. We’d hate to find out you’re skipping breakfast.

And then another ping from your cash app.

Caitlyn & Violet sent you $30: For a good start to your day

You stared at it for a long moment.

You could open the other messages. There were nice people in there, probably. And you’d earn more if you talked to more of them, just like Mel said.

But the thought of it made your stomach twist.

It felt like work.

Whereas opening Caitlyn’s and Violet’s messages?

That already made your heart skip a little.

You bit your lip, then opened the chat.

Good morning, you typed back, fingers just slightly trembling. Thank you for breakfast, I’ll show you what I get when I’m out. You’re already making it really hard to talk to anyone else.

Their reply came back almost immediately.

that’s exactly what we’re going for, sweetheart

Then Caitlyn followed up, polite but with a sharp little edge that made your cheeks warm:

We prefer not to share. But we won’t rush you. When you’re ready to focus on just us, let us know. In the meantime, we’d love to keep talking

You tucked your phone against your chest for a second, grinning into your arm.

Mel was probably right. You should keep talking to everyone.

But right now?

You only wanted to talk to them.

You found Mel sitting on a bench in the park during your lunch break, ankles delicately crossed under her, her dress split to her thigh. She scrolled her phone with one hand, sipping on an iced latte that you knew she hadn’t paid for herself. She looked completely at ease, hair perfectly arranged, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

When she saw you approach, she grinned and patted the bench beside her.

“Hello, darling. Sit. Let’s talk business.”

You sank down next to her, unwrapping the hot sandwich you’d grabbed on your way over, thanks to Caitlyn and Violet. So far, they’d bought you the best dinner and breakfast you’d had in a long time, and you knew this sandwich was going to be just as good.

Mel eyed it, then smirked. “You look happier. Who bought your lunch today?” she asked teasingly.

You ducked your head, a little sheepish. “A few people actually. But I’m thinking of it as their treat. They sent me breakfast money too!”

Mel made a pleased little hum. “Good girls. Consistent spoiling already? Promising. That’s the main thing: consistency.”

You smiled faintly, but Mel was already rifling through her bag. She pulled out a little notepad, and handed it to you.

“Here. Homework. I wrote this up last night, seeing as these two clearly want more than just feet pics. These are the kinds of spoils you can and should get from a good Mommy or Daddy. Not just meals and coffee money. Think bigger.”

You glanced down. The list read:

Food & drink (every day, no excuses, even just $5 for a treat)

Clothes & shoes (‘wardrobe fund’)

Beauty/grooming (skincare, makeup, hair, nails, facials, waxing of your choice, etc)

Bills (rent, utilities, phone, etc)

Hobbies

Travel

Spending money (always keep petty cash on hand)

You swallowed and looked up. “All this?”

Mel nodded. “Angel, listen. If they want you, they’ll want to take care of you. That’s half the thrill for them. You remember that trip to Ionia I took last year?”

“Yeah, you had, like, a week at their most luxurious spa resort. I was so jealous.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And do you think I paid for that myself?”

Your eyes widened. You’d looked up the price of that spa at the time, it was thousands of dollars just for a single day pass, let alone the whole week Mel had gone for.

“They give you spoils, and you give back whatever sugar you’re comfortable with. You’re not obligated to jump into bed with someone just because they send you a few hundred. Got it?”

“…Got it,” you murmured, tucking the list carefully into your bag.

Mel leaned back, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Now. Let’s talk about sugar.”

You froze a little at the word. “…Right here? In public?”

She just smirked, low and lazy. “Relax. Nobody’s listening. There are levels. Not everything’s full sex; some people don’t want full sex. You can give as much or as little sugar as you’re comfortable with, but some Mommies and Daddies might want more than you want to give.”

“Mel, I've been...” you looked around in discomfort, “Sending things to people for weeks. Isn't it just the same thing?”

“Not entirely. Until now, people have been asking you for specific things, and you just gave them what they asked for. Now, you'll need to take some initiative. Learn what they like and keep doing that. Flirty pictures, like selfies with a little cleavage, or just smiling with your coffee. Those are the appetizer are some, the main course for others. If these two like coffee photos, send them coffee photos. If they like your boobs, send them boobs. If they have a stockings fetish, go out and buy a pair in every style you can.

“Suggestive pics: a little thigh, your mouth, lingerie, silhouette shots. Then you’ve got videos: sweet or sexy, just enough to keep them hooked. Voice notes: huge. You might be surprised by how much people love audio-only. Call them Mommy or Daddy in a sultry voice note and they’ll absolutely melt. One of my other Baby friends deals exclusively in voice notes; she’s never sent a single photo or vid, and her house is amazing.”

Your cheeks warmed as you listened, but you nodded along, absorbing every word.

Then she clapped her hands. “Okay. Time for some practical training. Stand up.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Stand up, angel. You’re dressed so nicely today, and the weather’s perfect. Let’s get you some fresh pics you can send. You should be taking photos or videos every chance you get. Good Babies always keep Mommies and Daddies up to date.”

You hesitated, then stood, smoothing your dress. Mel led you to a sunny patch of grass by some trees and directed you like a seasoned photographer: tilt your chin here, lean your hip there, smile but not too big, look this way, look into the distance. She had you sit on the grass with her coffee, leaning back on one hand and glancing coyly at the camera, your dress riding up just enough to tease. She even got one of you leaning forward against a tree, back arched to show the curve of your butt.

When you sat back down, scrolling through the little set of photos she’d taken, you had to admit, they were excellent.

Mel grinned at you over the rim of her sunglasses. “You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks, Mel.”

“Anytime, angel. You’re already catching big fish: now you need to keep them on the line.”

You tucked your phone into your bag with a little thrill of nerves and excitement mingling in your chest.

Taglist: @sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover, @beggingonmykneesforher, @qlelwow, @loneliestafterparty, @flowersareup, @niceminipotato, @fruitfulfashion, @dut1fuldyk3, @youngtastemakerfart, @trinityobsessesovatings, @barmaideneeveewrites, @c1sne, @geminideathrose, @nuianced-tck-enby, @all-things-lilac, @m0ss-gremlin, @notkyleelol, @girlsatourbest, @rainfalls77, @vinvinvin-who, @ispendwaytolongonhere, @lavendercassie54321, @elliespookie, @elliecoochieeater, @nerdyjeansblog, @honeycriess, @kuntie99,

[organic-bloodbath]

could you make a part two of “Carry her” where Jun-ho finally makes it to the games while Gi-hun, Player 100, Minsu, Myung-gi, Y/n, Jun-hee, the baby player 336, player 353, player 203 and player 039 are at the final game? And No-Eul comes to help save Jun-hee from sacrificing herself and shooting myung-gi in the leg to stop him from trying to push Y/n? (and ofc this is where Gi-hun is holding the baby while trying think of a way to save Y/n and Jun-hee)

SORRY THIS IS SUCH A LONG REQUEST😭

Carry her – Part 2

Jun-hee x Reader

Summary: As above (almost).

Part 1

A/N: Probably not as good as the first one but oh well it's something :') Deadass writing several different versions of the last game with different outcomes lmao.

♡♡♡

"So, who do you think will be the one to drop dead next?" the long haired VIP asked the others, letting out a laugh before taking a sip from his drink.

"I think it'll be you," a female voice answered behind them. The VIPs turned around, confused why there was a pink guard aiming a gun towards the long haired VIP. The confusion quickly turned into panic.

"Woah! Put that thing down," the man gasped, voice trembling. "I –"

Then, he indeed was the one to drop dead next, falling back on the couch but now with a hole in his head.

The woman got up, ready to flee and save herself, but the guard was faster, shooting a bullet through her brain as well.

When all the VIPs were dead, blood splattered on the couches and the floor, No-eul took the mask off her head and threw it on the floor.

"Got the full experience now," No-eul mumbled and stepped over the woman's corpse.

No-eul looked at the final game play behind the glass, the players currently standing on the second pillar – six of them remaining. The first round had eliminated four players instead of the required one.

No-eul looked at especially the young girl, player 222, who had been pregnant and given birth during one of the games. An older man, player 456, was holding her baby, protecting her, since the girl could barely walk.

Player 222 was one of the few people who No-eul cared about among the players, even though she didn't personally know her and most likely would never either.

☆☆☆

Myung-gi had a tight grip on your neck, squeezing it hard but not enough to choke you – yet, at least. He held you in his arm's length, close to the edge of the pillar. Just two or three steps behind and your foot would face only air.

"Myung-gi, please," Jun-hee begged, trying to stay calm but afraid he'd let go of you and make you drop. She felt her voice trembling as she spoke the words to him. "Please let go of her."

"Yeah? You want to save your little girlfriend here? Walk away and raise our kid together, huh?" Myung-gi rambled, keeping a tight hold on your throat but looking into Jun-hee's eyes. "Yeah, our kid, Jun-hee. That kid is mine. It's my kid too."

"Myung-gi –"

"I've seen how you look at each other," Myung-gi chuckled. "I get it, she's pretty and all. While I'm a piece of shit who's not capable of being a dad. That's what you wanted to hear, Jun-hee? That's what you think, right?"

"Myung-gi, that's not what i think. Can we talk later and figure things out, okay?" Jun-hee insisted, trying to keep him as calm as possible but he was just getting angrier as the seconds passed. He didn't even know why he was so furious. Was it just jealousy? Not wanting to see Jun-hee with someone else?

"We –" Myung-gi started but couldn't get past the first word because suddenly Myung-gi let go of you, a loud scream escaping his mouth. He fell on his knees, holding on his leg which started to bleed. Myung-gi pressed his hand on his leg, painting his palm red.

Everyone noticed the blood and how he had gotten injured, as baffled as others how it had happened out of nowhere. Was that a gunshot? Who the hell had shot him out of nowhere? There was still 4 minutes left of the second round.

But when Myung-gi had let go of you, he gave you a slight push, making you lose your balance and take couple of steps backwards. Your foot didn't meet the ground on the third step. However, you managed to hold your hands on the edge, the rest of your body hanging in the air. You wouldn't be able to stay there very long, there wasn't anything you could properly grab.

"Y/N!" Jun-hee shouted in panic and ran towards you. "Take my hand, i'll help you up."

"No, i'll just pull you down too," you refused and shook your head, tears rising into your eyes. You were going to die but you weren't going to take Jun-hee with you and make her child an orphan.

Oh my god you were really going to fall and fucking die. You had come this far, you could not die right in the end.

Then, your fingers slipped and you lost the hold on the pillar. Jun-hee had a tight grip on your arm but she wouldn't be able to pull you up on her own, she was too small and fragile for that.

"Someone help me!" Jun-hee shouted over her shoulder as she grabbed your arm, squeezing your flesh as hard as she could. She didn't care about whatever you said; she needed to save you. She needed you. She couldn't handle even the thought of losing you.

She had to save you, just like you had saved her.

"Please, please don't let go," Jun-hee pleaded, her body starting to slowly slide down further towards the edge, inch by inch, because of your weight. The rough surface was scratching her pants, but she tried to push herself back as hard as she could, using all the strength she had in her body.

Your hand was becoming sweaty, you couldn't hold on to Jun-hee much longer. You wanted to let go so you wouldn't take Jun-hee with you. She was crying – no, you were both crying.

The moment Myung-gi pushed you over the edge, Gi-hun knew he needed to help you, immediately. But he was holding the baby, trying to figure out what to do. Of course he needed to help you and Jun-hee, she couldn't get you up by herself, but what was he going to do with the baby? If he put her down and left her alone, one of the players could grab and kill her. But he needed to take that risk, otherwise you would be dead.

Gi-hun made it to you and Jun-hee just in time, grabbing your arm and pulling you up with Jun-hee. Just a few more seconds and you would have been dead, bones crushed all the way down there on the floor with the players 353, 203, 039 and, sadly, Min-su.

When you were up on your own two feet again, Jun-hee immediately crashed against you and wrapped her arms tightly around your waist, almost suffocating you. Her body was trembling, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Thank god you're safe," Jun-hee mumbled against your chest, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself down. Shake off the thought of you being dead.

"Are you alright?" Gi-hun asked, his hand on your shoulder and worry bright in his eyes. You managed to just nod, heart racing from that moment. That was the closest you had come to death during these games.

Another gunshot made all of you flinch, separating Jun-hee from you. Now the player 100 had collapsed on the ground, a bullet hole on the middle of his forehead.

Stage 2 – pass.

"Who the hell is firing the gun?" Myung-gi shouted, frantically looking all around the large room for a hidden sniper but wasn't able to spot one. "There wasn't supposed to be guns!"

It was for the players to decide who were to die and who to live, not the guards this time, unless the time would run out and there had still been plenty of time left.

There was no answer, only Myung-gi's loud words hanging in the air. The bridge started to slowly connect the second pillar to the third, letting you to move to the last stage.

Third pillar. You, Jun-hee, Gi-hun and Myung-gi facing each other – nobody else left anymore. Gi-hun was holding the baby, while Jun-hee had grabbed your hand, her fingers squeezing your hand hard; afraid you'd leave her side.

Right after you had pressed the button, turning it from red to green, Myung-gi grabbed the metal pipe to himself, about to push one of you over the edge. He was going to live, no matter what. Jun-hee stepped in front of you, trying to protect you from him – he wouldn't push Jun-hee off, right?

Although, Myung-gi had officially gone insane, so there was no knowing what he was about to do. However, due to the wound on his leg, leaving a blood trail on the ground, he wasn't able to move as quickly as in the beginning. He wasn't as big of a threat anymore to you.

Before the third round had lasted even a minute, another gunshot echoed in the room. This time, Myung-gi collapsed on the ground, another bullet shot into him – now to the head, the shot much more fatal.

Congratulations – you have now passed the game.

All of you just stood there in complete shock what had just happened. That wasn't in the rules. You were supposed to decide the victims when there was still time left. Kill each other.

Although, what mattered the most right now was that you, Jun-hee, the baby and Gi-hun would walk free and alive out of here.

"Is it really over?" Jun-hee asked quietly, feeling like it was all too good to be true.

"I guess so," you mumbled. That was it? There had to be another twist coming up. Where were you supposed to go now?

Jun-hee hesitated for a moment but then walked closer to Myung-gi, kneeling down next to him. She just looked at him, examining his face. Eyes open, staring into nothing. Lips slightly apart from each.

"Goodbye, asshole," Jun-hee whispered and cared enough just to close his eyes.

Then, she returned to you and felt a weight dropping from her shoulders now that Myung-gi was gone. That she'd never have to see him again.

☆☆☆

Jun-hee turned her back to her past, facing now her future – you.

"Jun-ho?" Gi-hun gasped as the four of you reached the boat by the beach. Not a moment too soon.

"Are you the only survivors?" he asked, looking at each of you one by one – his gaze especially glued at the baby Gi-hun was holding. Jun-ho had way too many questions but no time to go through them right now.

"Just us," Gi-hun confirmed.

Jun-ho helped all of you to get up into the boat, especially Jun-hee since she still had trouble with her leg.

"Alright, we should be –" Jun-ho stopped mid-sentence, glancing over Gi-hun's shoulder. His face fell, making everyone turn around to see what he had seen.

A woman dressed up in a pink suit, a rifle in her arms, was standing a few metres behind you. Everyone went into slight panic for a moment. She was clearly one of the guards, though not wearing a black mask anymore.

"Room for one more?" she asked.

It took a few seconds for Jun-ho to answer but he then nodded his head and motioned her to come to them. "Yeah, come on. We don't have much time left."

"What?" Gi-hun asked, needing a good explanation why the hell Jun-ho was willing to take a guard with them without another question. "Why are we taking her with us?"

"I'll explain everything to you later, but she's coming with us," Jun-ho ordered. She had helped Jun-ho earlier, proving that she was on their side, so it would be unfair of him to just leave her to die.

The boat took off, finally leaving the island behind you and heading further towards the sea. Just a few minutes later, you heard a loud explosion coming from the island – the entire place was now completely destroyed.

The place where you had been trapped and fighting for your life for a week, was now turning into ash. The place where you had been only a moment ago was now gone forever.

The idea and thought of it all felt so surreal.

While you sat in the boat, everyone stayed silent for a long time, trying to process everything what had happened alone.

You eyed the guard suspiciously and decided to speak up, to break the thick silence. "Why are you here?"

"I did you a favor, might as well give me a ride back home," she replied, daring to give you a smile.

"Wait, you shot all those other players?" Jun-hee asked, now straightening her back and joining the conversation. "Why?"

"Had to get the game over a little faster." She nodded towards the island which was now in flames.

"But why help us?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. "You could have just left us there and escape on your own."

She went silent for a moment, and you were dying to know what was going on in her head. This was the first moment when you could speak freely to one of the guards without a danger of getting shot in the head.

"Because i don't think the four of you deserve to die," she replied, and you could tell that it was the only answer you would get from her.

So, some of the guards still had a heart that cared about a human life. Or at least one of them.

"What's your name?" Jun-hee asked.

"No-eul," she replied, realizing how much time had passed since the last time she or someone else had said her name out loud. Here she had been known only as 011. She then glanced at the baby Jun-hee was holding, a warm smile spreading on her face. "She's beautiful. Does she have a name yet?"

"No, i haven't really had the time to think about it yet."

After that, all of you sat in silence for a moment, the games speedrunning inside your heads. How the past week had changed all of you. Not only financially but even more mentally. How many people you had watched die right in front of you – some of them strangers that had become your friends. You felt like you had gone through a long war but it was only one week.

"Y/N," Jun-hee whispered, her baby fully asleep in her arms. "What do you plan to do now?"

"Well, i don't know, really."

"I'd like to have you in my life, if that's okay with you," Jun-hee suggested, careful and nervous with her words how you would react. You had lived together in this small bubble, away from the life you knew. You and Jun-hee lived completely separate lives – would there be room for Jun-hee in the future? "I'm not asking you to become a stepmom for her but maybe, if you'd like, her godmother?"

"Really?" you gasped, excited of the thought. "You mean that?"

"Yeah, i'd like that very much," Jun-hee smiled.

"Well, i'd like that too. Very much," you agreed.

God, how much you wanted to kiss her right now. Was this the right moment? Would she even want to? You still remembered the kiss she had given you after the jump rope, the memory alone summoning butterflies into your stomach.

Jun-hee leaned against your shoulder as the waves moved the boat side to side, making you feel tired as well.

Gi-hun was chatting with Jun-ho about something, while No-eul was leaning her head against the wall, deep in her thoughts. Having looked at Jun-hee with her child, No-eul couldn't help but feel a sting in her heart, missing her own daughter as well. She'd find her some day – she'd have to.

"Y/N," Jun-hee mumbled quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad i met you," Jun-hee admitted, now looking into your eyes.

"I'm glad i met you too," you replied and smiled.

"Can i kiss you?" she asked, making your heart skip a beat. You didn't even have to answer with words, she got the permission from the mere look on your face. Smile on both of your faces, Jun-hee softly pressed her lips on yours.

For the rest of the trip on the boat, Jun-hee rested her head on your shoulder and fell asleep. Having a dream about you which she hoped would come true some day.

☆☆☆

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Bob’s best friend

Bob Reynolds x reader

warnings: DRUGGGG ADDICTIONNNNN. i really think its so important to talk about bobs drug addiction. i do find him to be babygirl but in the "looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you" because he is really That Guy. i wouldn't be surprised if he canonically stabbed someone for meth if im being honest. also bob's abuse and such, mental illness, yk

a/n: request so entertaining to read i actually took it LMAOO sorry it took so long there were 10 requests ahead of you i had to put you in the next request slot group 😭

prompt: @ceylon-morphe: “Do you have any hcs for bob? Sweet baby bob? Precious pookie bob? Must protect and give all my love bob? Wanna smooch his sad puppy face bob? Give him a bubble bath and wrap him in my softest blankets bob? He’s innocent he did nothing wrong bob? I’ve only met bob for 2 minutes but If anything happens to him ima kill everyone in this room then myself bob? God gives his strongest battles to his most traumatized soldiers bob? Pathetic wet mess of a human being bob? Legit looks like he be a bottom in bed bob? Looks like the poster child of sad pathetic losers everywhere bob? Much thanks boo!//Apologies I forgot to add bob (from thunderbolts) relationship to reader as friends.”

you've stuck by bob for forever

despite his flaws—his many flaws—you always tried to be there for him

like when he shows up at your house at 3am slurring his words, sweating his ass off, barely standing still and you have to drag him inside and help him come down

"i didn't know where else to go" -bob

"i know" -you, wiping his face with a wet washcloth

it was a cycle for a long time, and you felt so helpless about it

you knew what he'd come from, and you were the only person he'd ever trusted with the details of his past

abuse, the car accident that got him hooked on painkillers, the spiral downwards of chasing a high, other mental health struggles

he's told you he was "getting clean" about a dozen different times, but it was always the same

you felt like you were enabling him

"shiiiitttt, no, y/n, that's not what it looks like" -bob

"really? because it looks like a bag of meth rocks to me next to...oh, look at that, your 'trusty' pipe" -you

"nooo, that's my friend's, i was holding onto it for him" -bob

"you don't have any friends" -you, tossing his things on the couch and storming off

it always broke his heart when he disappointed you

and honestly, looking at it from his point of view, he felt just as much of a failure for being a bad friend

it was a sensitive subject

you bailed him out of jail a handful of times and the last time you did, you gave him the biggest earful he'd gotten since he was a kid

"i can't keep doing this, bob! at this rate, you'll be dead in a ditch and i'm terrified of the day i get that call. i can't keep running in circles like this, you need to get your shit together" -you

"i swear, this is the last time, okay? please don't be mad" -bob

"you said that the last three times i bailed you out. no more chances." -you

bob felt like a real asshole, but trying to change was too hard for him

that's when, without any warning, he left you and went to malaysia, you didn't hear from him for a good couple of weeks

he left a note telling you he was off to go "find his purpose," which meant he was on his own and had no one to look out for him

and although you may have threatened to give up on him, it was just supposed to be a wakeup call

you called him every day, several times a day, for weeks. left voicemails every time

"hey bob. please call me back. i just want to make sure you're okay" "bob, it's me, can you give me a call back when you get this?" "bob, i'm getting really worried, can you please let me know you're alive?" "hey. i love you, man. i'm always here for you and i'm sorry for how we left things" -you

meanwhile, bob had submitted himself to human experimentation to try to "better himself" and didnt want to talk to you again until he turned his life around for you

you were listed on his "medical forms" as an emergency contact, but you were never contacted when he was believed dead

after a few weeks, his voicemail box was full and calling was futile

and bob was stuck in a box and shipped to utah to be hidden from the government and world, a failed experiment that was to be buried

you felt so guilty. it ate away at you. and no matter how many times you went over it in your head—the begging and pleading for him to get help, the betrayals, picking him up from jail, thinking he was getting better just to find a secret stash—you felt like it was all your fault.

when bob woke up from his...coma? yeah, sure. when bob woke from his coma in a death trap with 4 3 assassins, the last thing he had in his memory was you

"yeah, no, don't know how i got here? i'm bob, i just, uh, woke up. any of you know y/n?" -bob

"is he joking?" -john

"no. i just need to let y/n know i'm okay. it worries them when they don't hear from me for a while" -bob

"who is y/n to you, bob?" -yelena

"oh, y/n is my best friend. really understanding, really awesome. sometimes i forget to check in and they think i'm dead" -bob :)

"oh...well we don't know any y/n, sorry" -ava

yelena soon found his files—"sentry project"

you were listed in his records, she found it curious and a little sweet

until much later when they all escaped the incinerator and discovered bob had powers and valentina was being...protective of him

"i think we have a problem" -yelena, walking thru the desert

"oh, do we now? do tell, i'm dying to hear what other problems we have besides being stranded in the desert and hunted by valentina's soldiers" -john

"well, smartass, these are the files on bob and how he got there. his beloved y/n is in here. they're a target" -yelena

"sucks to be y/n, then" -ava

when bucky found the group of rogue assassins, yelena took it as an opportunity to save you

"bob needs us, but so does y/n. is there any way you can make sure they're okay? out of harms way" -yelena

"be careful, yelena. it's starting to sound like you have a heart" -john

"shut up, walker" -yelena and bucky

you were soon visited by captain america at your humble abode in florida

bucky called in a favor

"sorry to drop by unannounced, but it's for your protection" -sam

"my protection? what do you mean? what's going on?" -you

"your friend bob is alive, but he made some friends with some bad people" -sam

"great, more drug dealers?" -you

"the director of the CIA actually" -sam

"you're joking" -you

"for your sake, i wish i was. you need to come with me" -sam

if he'd gotten there 20 minutes later you'd have been permanently silenced by valentina's soldiers

sam couldn't be your security detail for long, not officially, but bucky asked him to bring you to new york where the "thunderbolts" would protect you and reunite you with bob

unfortunately, the situation wasn't what they had thought—but you'd seen this before

"i go by sentry now. y/n, are you proud of me? i feel so much healthier now, you were right!" -bob

"y/n, get behind me" -yelena

"i think y/n is turning on you. you might need to take care of them" -val

"no, no. y/n would never. they've always taken care of me. we can finally be happy" -bob

"well, these assassins are trying to take y/n away from you. they'd be safer with us" -val, continuing to manipulate

that started the firefight, which ended with you running for your life to the elevator and waiting for the others to follow suit

"what happened to him?! he left florida a couple weeks—maybe a month ago—he was never like this. sure, he had his issues—and the delusions of invincibility, but now he actually is invincible??" -you

"your friend was experimented on, the only survivor of these experiments. that woman—valentina—she has her nails dug deep in him, he's her weapon" -yelena "i read his file, you were in it. that's why we knew where to find you"

"emergency contact?" -you

yelena nodded

"i'm always the one he calls when he's in trouble. last time he got in trouble, i yelled at him. that was the first time i've seen him in a while" -you

"that's not your fault. he seems...troubled" -ava

"you don't know the half of it" -you

yelena then started yelling at the whole team in front of avengers tower and you tried to wander off, soon stopped by the void swallowing all of new york city

"is that—it can't be? bob?" -you

"you need to find cover" -john

you hid, but were soon a shadow on the wall and transported into "the void"

after reliving some of your worst memories, you found bob all by yourself. he was sitting alone in the attic of his childhood home. you'd heard this story many times when he was drunk and crying over bad memories

"hi." -bob

"been a while" -you, sitting beside him

"yeah, i'm sorry. i just thought i might be able to do something good if i was on my own for a while" -bob, looking down through the floorboards "i made everything worse"

"you know you can always count on me. i'm sorry i snapped last time we talked" -you

"well, i shouldn't have bought those pills from that undercover cop. i knew he was a cop, too. i've seen him bust other people. i just really wanted what he had" -bob

"we'll...we'll work on that. not buying drugs. especially from cops" -you

soon, the thunderbolts appeared and they had a plan to get out of the hell-filled void you got trapped in. bob felt extra bad bc he knew the things you'd been through too and it was his fault you had to relive them

he held your hand most of the trip out, and by the time you reached reality again, he was a little lost

"y/n! who are all these people?" -bob

"some friends we made!" -you, trying to stay upbeat

"is he okay? we all remember what just happened, right?" -bucky

"yeah, no, he's fine. this happens sometimes" -you

"yeah, i just get a little fuzzy. it'll come back to me" -bob, looking to you. you nodded encouragingly

this was the first time you'd seen him look healthy in a long time. good weight, no bags around his eyes, posture was better, a genuine smile, all around looking better

you and him got dragged into the "new avengers" announcement

and he needed to stay in new york due to his...abilities

"will you stay here with me? it'll be sooo cool, we can have sleepovers again like we used to!" -bob

the other "avengers" made it a stipulation for you to stay, and you were looking for a reason to move out of florida. you said yes and joined up with the new avengers—in a more civilian sense. who knows, maybe you'd become useful in ways you never thought before?

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @lenaelleu //

[n1k0laa5]

“I Will Have It” vs. “I Have It” Why Your Words Aren’t Just Words

and why you keep manifesting “almost” instead of “now.”

SECTION ONE: WORDS AREN’T FLUFF. THEY’RE BLUEPRINTS.

you wanna know why people keep telling you not to say “i’ll have it soon” and instead to say “i already have it?”

you think it’s some woo-woo bullshit like “oooo you’re not allowed to want!! that’s low vibe!!” like shut up, no. let’s be clear. this isn’t about forbidden vocabulary. this is about how your words reveal your state—and state is the thing that prints reality like a 3D printer.

you say you’ll have it? cool. the 3D heard you.

but what does that actually MEAN to your system?

it means it’s NOT HERE.

it means it’s on the fucking way.

it means you’re a person looking around, peeking at clocks, checking for tracking updates, biting your lip like “did it ship yet???”

and guess what your reality reflects now?

someone. who. is. waiting.

not someone who has.

not someone who owns.

someone who believes it’s coming. and belief is cute. but if the state under that belief is lack? you will loop. you will sit there talking about “i know it’s mine” and still feel like it’s not. because your body? your subconscious? your nervous system? they are NOT registering possession. they are registering anticipation. which is chemically, emotionally, neurologically coded as absence.

SECTION TWO: THE NEUROSCIENCE BEHIND “I ALREADY HAVE IT.”

listen. this isn’t some fluffy aesthetic tumblr rule made to give shifting girlies a god complex. this is literally how the human brain works.

go read up on predictive coding theory.

your brain doesn’t passively receive reality—it PREDICTS what it’s about to see, feel, experience, and then edits your perception to MATCH it.

so if you affirm: “i already have the thing.”

your brain goes “oh, okay, let’s find proof of that.”

it TUNES your filters to catch synchronicities.

you literally prime the reticular activating system to favor data that confirms you already got it.

this is what makes shit feel natural. this is what starts making your desire feel familiar. and when something feels familiar? it manifests like butter.

but if you say: “i will have it.”

your brain goes “got it. it’s on the way. not here yet. we’re in the process of it happening.”

and every second that passes where you don’t see it?

your brain logs that as proof of its absence.

“it’s not here YET. it’s still on its way. it’s probably gonna take a while.”

and suddenly you’re manifesting delay. not on purpose. but by design.

this is what they mean when they say your words reflect your assumption.

“i have it” = now.

“i will” = eventually.

and eventually is a cursed little word that can loop forever unless YOU call time.

SECTION THREE: THE SPIRITUAL LOGIC — BEING VS BECOMING

now let’s put the science hat down for a sec and put the god crown on.

you are the operant power.

you are the creator.

you’re not here to chase after what you want like a dumb little mortal. you declare and reality follows. you speak and the world bends. that’s the LAW.

but what happens when you keep saying “it’s coming?”

you become a beggar in your own kingdom. you’re literally standing in front of your throne, knocking on the door, like “uhhh hey I requested something three days ago and I don’t think it arrived yet?”

instead of realizing. you. ARE. the system.

saying “i will” is cute. it’s hopeful. it’s honest, even.

but saying “i AM” is POWER.

saying “i HAVE” is DECLARATION.

the self who says “i will” is still becoming.

the self who says “i have” is already being.

and the difference between becoming and being is the difference between waiting for a shift and living inside the shift.

you don’t become god by acting like you’re earning it.

you just decide.

and then the world updates.

SECTION FOUR: YEAH YEAH BUT SOME PEOPLE MANIFEST WITH “I WILL” THO??

let’s be real.

yes. yes, people have manifested using “i’ll get it soon.”

yes, people have gotten everything they ever wanted without doing one single affirmation.

yes, this shit isn’t a rigid ass religion. it’s a framework. it’s a set of keys. and you get to use the one that turns YOUR lock.

but here’s the actual insight:

people who manifest with “i will” or “i know it’s coming” often still succeed because they’re rooted in unwavering belief.

they’re not desperately checking the 3D.

they’re not obsessing over when.

they’re sitting there like “yeah i said it’s mine. duh.”

and they don’t create an assumption that says “it’s taking too long.”

they simply don’t get in their own way.

you, on the other hand?

you say “it’s coming” then wake up 3 hours later like “where is it tho??”

that’s a new assumption.

“it’s not here.”

and THAT’S the part that re-anchors you into lack.

not the words.

the underlying state.

so this isn’t about “you’re not allowed to use future tense.”

it’s about understanding the consequence of that perspective if you’re still identifying with the lack version of you.

if you’re still questioning it.

if you’re still depending on external proof before you commit.

you want to say “it’s coming” and live like it’s guaranteed? sure.

but the moment you say “it’s coming” and then question it?

you’ve just told the 3D: “oops, i lied.”

SECTION FIVE: SO HOW DO I SAY IT THEN?

say it like it’s done.

say it like you just remembered it, not like you’re asking for it. say it like you’re annoyed it took you this long to realize you already had it. say it like you’re describing a fact. not begging for an outcome.

examples:

“of course i live in that apartment. i literally forgot i moved already.”

“my sp? yeah they’re obsessed with me. next question.”

“i’m rich. i always have been. why did i ever think that changed?”

“i literally have everything i want. not even in a delusional way. like… it’s just true.”

“that reality already exists. i chose it. period.”

make the desire feel boring. familiar. obvious.

because when it feels obvious? it shows up.

when it feels casual? it reflects faster.

when it feels like “duh”? the 3D folds and hands it over.

SECTION SIX: THE TAKEAWAY — YOU’RE NOT WRONG. YOU’RE JUST OUT OF STATE.

you’re not stupid.

you’re not broken.

you’re not too late.

you’re not “failing” at LOA.

you’re just thinking like someone who doesn’t have it yet. and every time you think like that? speak like that? ask “where is it?” you keep reloading the lack reality.

so yes. saying “i will” is technically fine.

but if you want speed, power, override, and instant shift?

you say “i have it.”

and you don’t blink.

not because it’s a script.

but because it’s true.

[a-purple-obsessed-girl]

for my third part of talking about my theories of kpop demon hunters’ future, it’s the turn of the second movie, that should focus on mira and the theme of family:

first thing first: jinu is dead. he’s not coming back to life neither makes the sword sentient. i don’t know about korean spiritual/religious beliefs, so if i say something wrong let me know, but from the movie i got the idea that jinu redeemed himself and freed himself from the corruption of the demon’s king, allowing his soul to move on and became part of the universe (and the honmoon), one with the universe, to become energy, kinda

we know that mira had problems with her family, so that of course will be the main thing: understanding what is family, that goes beyond blood and that sometimes the chosen family will be there when the blood one won’t

so, the idea is that huntr/x got a request to exhibit at some hotel that belongs to mira’s family (i mean, they are rich, surely have some kind of hotel/establishment). of course mira thinks that’s her parents way to reconnect with her (because, yeah, she got over being perceived as the problem child, but she misses her family). but obviously her parents don’t care: they wanted huntr/x just because it’s the most famous group and they want to show their power/riches; still don’t approve of their daughter life’s choice and aren’t particularly happy to be remembered that their daughter is in the group (not that they deny she is their daughter, but if it’s not made super public would be better)

as a contrast, zoey has zero problema regarding her family: they are all supportive. maybe they are at the show and we got to see the difference. maybe there is zoey’s grandma that adopts all three of them as granddaughters (after all they’re zoey’s girlfriends, of course she will adopt them)

and lastly, celine realizes how much she fucked up with rumi, apologizes and tries to fix things. and tells rumi the story about her parents (or maybe she finds rumi’s mother’s diary with the story and she too learns what really happened for the first time)

rumi’s parents story is important for understanding more about demons (that is also a very important part of the movie): rumi’s father was just a (good normal) man that fell in love with her mother, was somehow corrupted by gwi-ma (maybe trying to make a deal to keep his wife safe), hid the patterns from his wife, became a father giving his daughter patterns, ended somehow betraying/ambushing the sunlight sisters, but at the last moment realized what he was doing and stopped, sacrificing himself to try to save his family but unfortunately also his wife died. the important detail is that he didn’t died a demon, because was able to overcame gwi-ma’s influence (kinda like jinu, but before he died)

(maybe here i can make an exception and allow for an appearance from jinu, in a dream, to kinda confirm rumi this story because after dieing he can see sone “soul energy” around rumi and can confirm her that not only she isn’t a mistake, she never was, and actually she is very loved)

so the demon’s hunters part of the story is the girls learning they can stop people to became demons: maybe mira realizes that her brother is showing some patterns because is being tempted by gwi-ma in order to be the perfect son for their parents and feels the pressure, and maybe is envious that mira got out. so mira tries to reason and reconcile with her brother, helping him break free and repairing their relationship

they also realize that a lot of people are in this situation and in the end the girls sang to help them all understand they don’t need to listen to the voice of doubt and self-hatred in them; in this way huntr/x reduces even more gwi-ma influence on the earth

it’s super important to me that mira’s parents aren’t the one becoming demons, like maybe gwi-ma tried: tried to guilt one of them like “it’s your fault, your daughter’s like this because of your failing” but them are “no, i did my best, i give her the best education i could, now that’s on her if she choses to do that with her life, i don’t have to blame myself”. so gwi-ma tries to make a deal with the other parent to have back the daughter they wanted, but they too are “she made her choices, terrible choices for sure, and i don’t support them and i don’t want to have to deal with her anymore, but that’s all on her, and i won’t force her to change her mind”. i just want her parents to be terrible parents with their rigid views and values, but not outright terrible people; and maybe by the end they could learn to be a little less rigid with the brother, since he kinda wants to do what his parents want of him, but, like, with less pressure

of course there are songs, and one is mostly sung by mira. also, i would love if mira asks zoey to help her express her feelings through the song: like, kinda explains what she wants to say and then has a dance already coreographed and zoey from here writes down the lyrics while rumi helps with the melody

[annie-bby]

— dating dallas winston hcs ୨୧

first post since redoing my account woop woop! i have to just put it out there that this may not be good at all 😭 i’ve never written anything for dally or anything for the outsiders in general!!

hopefully this isn’t too ooc, i wrote it in like 20 minutes 💔

send a request in if you feel like it :)

i see a lot of people saying different things for this, but i really do believe that dallas is a sweetheart or babe kinda guy

definitely refers to you as my girl when talking to other people or when he’s jealous

when he’s jealous 🤤 an arm around your shoulder/waist/hip as he pulls you closer.. or as he very loudly says some not very appropriate things in your ear or just out loud to the other person - nobody’s messing with his girl

i think sylvia really took a toll on him which reaalllyyy increased his level of protectiveness, which was high enough to begin with, and did make him question is he was the problem he lowk is most of the time

so patience, as challenging as that may be, is necessary as well as a lot of trust

and with trust comes wearing his ring! i’d die to wear it, so aren’t you lucky ☺️

pda isn’t something that i think he particularly cares about but, in his eyes, if you want it then you got it

though i do think that he always has an arm round your shoulders or a hand in your back pocket

dating dally does mean you have a new best friend: johnny cade! he follows you two around like a shadow and he doesn’t care if you don’t talk to him much, just knowing that he has yours and dally’s protection is enough for him <3

and with johnny inevitably comes ponyboy! now you have your own little squad!

dally loves to push boundaries and that isn’t different for you at all, while he cares about you, he loves to push your buttons as far as you’ll allow him to - please call him out on this or it’s gonna keep going on 😭 he definitely wants you to call him out, that’s the whole point! 😉

inviting you to meet the gang and then going out with them all as a group will take time - he wants to make sure you’re definitely in it for the long run and won’t mess him around like sylvia did

and try not to take it personally when dally catcalls another girl or two-bit starts making advances on you

having you close really keeps him grounded and reminds him that not all is bad, despite the life he’s been handed - and he really appreciates you for that though he won’t show it

when he’s drunk is when he really spills it to you

“dal, come on.” you manage to mutter out. it’s early in the morning, maybe around two or three and you’re tired yourself. you should’ve known that this would happen.

dragging around a drunk dallas winston isn’t easy, especially not when you need to sneak him into your bedroom as quiet as possible so your parents don’t hear. and definitely not when he’s got his entire body weight resting on your left shoulder, an arm loosely wrapped around your arms and his feet scuffling.

dally starts muttering something unintelligible and you lean closer to be able to hear him. a few jumbled sentences leave his lips before you finally hear it as you lay him down on your bed.

“too good to me, sweetheart. don’t know why you’re still with me.” he mumbles before readjusting so he’s laying comfortably - a sight you’ve seen many times before.

your heart softens and you almost drop the clean clothes he’d left in your drawer the last time he was round - for times like these, he’d said, winking at you.

if you knew that waking up from your beauty sleep and taking care of your drunk boyfriend only four hours before you had to wake for school would end in this everytime, you’d drop everything to do it again.

dates usually consist of the diner, drive-in or to buck’s bar. mostly you guys go and get drunk at buck’s, or you watch him get drunk and go care for him at home or upstairs in his room.

the gang really enjoy your company and pony and darry are real appreciative of you as you somewhat calm dallas down - though the gang do have to hear him make advances on you infront of them as if you aren’t already dating 😀

i really do think that dallas can be a good, loving boyfriend if provided the patience and understanding he needs, as well as his partner having the ability to let loose and fuck around with him every once in a while in both ways

— back to my masterlist!

[threetone3]

Chapter 1: Adventure Is Out There

Kang Haerin x Male OC

Words: 2.4k

What We Don’t Say: 

Everyone holds their secrets, and everyone has things they don’t share. As friendships form and feelings grow, secrets begin to unravel. And sometimes, the most complicated things aren’t what we say, but what we never do.

“You’re that hagwon girl, right?” In which Kang Haerin starts a new school after everything falls apart—and meets a bubbly Aussie girl who decides she's going to fix it all. Or at least make her watch Up.

Kang Haerin

I was a few months into my third year in high school when my dad lost his job due to taking bribes, and we had to compensate for it by relocating to a completely different district so that he could find new work. I know it sounds harsh, but thanks to him, I had to transfer to a different school in my senior year—something that might ruin my chances of getting into my dream university. But whatever. What’s done is done. 

As the day I’d been dreading approached, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. The thought of starting at a new school filled me with a mix of anxiety and uncertainty, maybe just a slight twinge of anticipation as well. The conversation I had on the phone last night, with words of confirmation and reassurance from my best friend, came drifting back.

"Don't worry, you'll be completely fine there. You're Kang Haerin—straight-A student, vice president of the student council, and last year you received a record-breaking 87 confession letters on Valentine's Day, yet somehow you managed to reject every single one of them. I think you’re gonna be just fine, girl."

Ban Heesoo. Some would describe her as comic relief; the weird girl with the giggly and loud personality in class, perpetually cracking her jokes and being the only person who would laugh at them with her weird guffaws. But to me, she was my trustworthy partner in crime, the only one who understood me and the only friend I ever made. I couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at her words. It was indescribable; she would say things that always managed to make me feel better about myself, but she never made any requests in return. Our relationship dynamic was almost like she was my therapist, and I was her customer who had no idea what was going on with her. But somehow it worked. 

“Thanks, but I don’t know if I can readjust to a new school and catch up on their syllabus at the same time.” I sighed into the phone, questioning whether this was even a good idea.

Heesoo’s reply came fast. “Dude, you were sick and hospitalised for almost a whole month last year and still ranked first in the finals. I don't think you have anything to worry about when it comes to grades. Romantic relationships, however…”

I rolled my eyes as she laughed mockingly.

“First of all, you know how my mom feels about me getting into relationships now. Secondly, every guy at our school was either a hardcore delinquent who didn’t care about studying or a complete nerd who could barely eke out a sentence in front of a girl. There’s a reason why I got 87 letters and not a single face-to-face confession.”

“Okay, counterpoint: they probably didn’t dare approach you anyway because of your stone-cold demeanour. I mean, you were basically known as the Ice Queen in school, and your stage-four terminal case of RBF might be the worst I’ve ever seen. Also, I don’t think you get to say anything about romantically uninclined nerds.”

Damn. Sometimes, Heesoo really knew how to humble me.

“Okay, fine, you’re right. But don’t expect me to show up after graduation with a boyfriend on my arm,” I grumbled.

“I’m counting on it! No boy’s gonna steal my ice-cold Kang Haerin’s heart anyway!” I could imagine her winking at her phone. 

After we said goodbye, I thought about the prospect of having a boyfriend. It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of my head for the past two or three years. Romantic relationships were a national obsession in Korea, despite the overwhelmingly stressful education system. But it was a trend I never got around to joining—probably because I never felt the need. All I focused on were my grades. Maybe that’s why I only ever made one friend in school.

As I started drifting to sleep, I found myself wishing for a different experience in my new school.

“KANG HAERIN! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!”

My eyes shot to the clock again, which read 7:15. Another thing I hated about my dad losing his job: the travel time. Our new house was a 35-minute walk from school with no direct bus—unless I somehow learned to ride a bike in the span of a few weeks.

As I reluctantly got up and started my morning routine, I noticed a weird uneasiness in my stomach. Even my body was physically dreading the thought of meeting new people. Curse this extremist introvert mindset.

🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈

I’d never been late for school before. I’d never missed a day without a valid reason either; it was part and parcel that came with being vice president of the student council with a reputation for keeping a perfect record. So I was already off to a bad start as I trudged toward the front gate, practically dragging myself there after an attempt (albeit a failed one) to run to school, then a Hail Mary sprint once I caught sight of the pearly gates. I glanced at the clock tower: 8:02. There goes my streak. Maybe learning to cycle wasn’t the worst idea after all.

Even just pushing through the rotating door took every last ounce of my strength. As I stepped foot on school grounds and looked around, my eyes met a pair of gorgeous brown ones, flecked with sea-green and a glint in them. 

“Are you the new transfer girl?” Ooh, thick Aussie accent.

“Yeah… Th-That’s me.” I could barely catch my breath. God, running for 30 minutes made saying three words feel like a marathon.

“Ooh, you might wanna take it easy there. You sound kinda out of breath. Don’t worry, it’s your first day, so there’s no punishment this time.”

“Punishment?” I did a double-take. She pointed to a line of about ten students at the side of the gate, where a stern-looking teacher stood holding a clipboard.

“Mr. Choi takes down the names of everyone who’s late. Every time you’re late, you get a demerit point. Ten demerits gets you the grand prize at the gift exchange: ten laps around the track.” The girl explained casually. “There’s also different offences you can get demerits for.” 

I hummed and nodded before noticing a tall student waving at her. Her eyes lit up.

“Third time this week?” she called.

“Nope, fourth. You forgot Monday—I got caught riding Bull to school,” the boy replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

I got a good look at him: natural wavy hair, parted in the middle, a bandage on his nose bridge, and what looked like an earring on his left earlobe.

“Are guys allowed to wear earrings here?” I asked.

“Nope. Guess that’s gonna be his fifth strike.” She shrugged. “But honestly, Mr. Choi’s probably given up on him by now. He’s kind of a legend for breaking the record on demerit laps.”

I raised an eyebrow. His vibe definitely fit the high school delinquent stereotype.

“Does he get into trouble often or…?”

My question made her laugh—a bright, open laugh that answered for her.

“His record was 120 laps in one term, I think.”

I would’ve been more shocked at that accomplishment, but her laugh actually took my breath away. It was only our first interaction, and already she felt like the embodiment of a guardian angel, whose mermaid voice could hum a lullaby and put an entire city to sleep.

“Oh, sorry! I completely forgot about your introductory tour. I’m Danielle. I’ll be showing you around today, helping you get settled in. What was your name again?”

“Haerin. Kang Haerin,” I said, finally managing to steady my breath — and my nerves. Spoken interaction had always been something I dreaded, but this girl’s vibrant smile somehow made it manageable. Not that I felt any kind of attraction to her, it was more like watching the sun laugh.

The vibrant smile I received in response to my introduction only further proved my point. “Well, Kang Haerin, let’s get you acquainted with the people here, you’re gonna love them.” A playful frown creased her forehead. “Well, most of them anyway. Follow me—lots of fun stuff awaits. Adventure is out there!” I blinked at her bubbly outburst. Was that a reference I wasn’t getting? 

My expression must’ve given it away, I realised, as she stared at me incredulously. “Are you just shy, or do you really not get the reference?” I didn’t know how to answer her, so I just stared blankly even more. Like I said, spoken interaction queen over here. “Charles Muntz from Up… you know, the saddest movie of all time?” She was practically praying that I would somehow magically understand. I shook my head no, prompting a reaction from Danielle where she all but lost her mind in the kindest way possible, “You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s fine, I’m kidnapping you after school today. We’re gonna do an animated movie marathon and a pop quiz right after. I can’t have you not know movie references, imagine what’s gonna happen if you meet Hanni.” She looked genuinely horrified at the thought of me meeting this Hanni girl without studying movie knowledge, as if drawing a comparison to taking the CSAT on one week's notice. 

I wasn’t used to this type of interaction. Maybe only from Heesoo, but never from someone I just met. I couldn’t even sense any animosity coming from Danielle, just playful banter. She was even suggesting that I go over to her house, and she spoke as if I were already part of her life, and she was already planning to introduce me to her other friends, like this Hanni girl. A warm, fuzzy feeling settled in my stomach, as if my body was saying, “She’s nice to you. Don’t screw this up.”

Danielle, on the other hand, has seemingly already forgotten about the interaction that happened just ten seconds ago, as she now has the warmest smile ever plastered on her face. She gestured forward, leading us across the field.

The school grounds were already buzzing. Students milled about in loose clusters, bags slung lazily over their shoulders, loud laughter mixing with the occasional whistle from the PE teacher across the pitch. I followed her in silence, adjusting the strap on my shoulder, with mild stitches in my stomach as a result of my attempted run, which spoke volumes about my athletic ability or lack of it.

“That building’s the gym. You’ll probably hear Coach Baek yelling even when he’s not,” Danielle said, pointing to a tall, white dome-like structure. “And behind it is the boxing club. That’s where Jay practically lives. You’ll get used to the sound of gloves hitting pads before class ends.”

“Jay’s the one with the earring?” I asked, more to make conversation than anything else.

Danielle nodded. “The one and only. Five-time inter-school demerit champion. Our resident ‘bad boy with a surprisingly soft centre’... probably. Don’t tell him I said that.”

I let out a quiet snort — a sound I didn’t even realise escaped.

She turned toward the main building. “You’ll spend most of your time there. Classrooms, labs, the library… and the music club, if you’re lucky.”

There was a brief pause before she added, “I’m in it, by the way—the music club. We write songs, sing, play a little. Nothing formal. Just vibes, really.”

It sounded so easy the way she said it. Like breathing. Like freedom.

We were halfway up the stairs to the building when she suddenly slowed her pace.

“Wait a sec,” she said, peering at me, eyes narrowing slightly. “What did you say your full name was again?”

I blinked. “Kang Haerin.”

Danielle’s eyes widened, then lit up with something between amusement and disbelief. “Oh my god—you’re that hagwon girl?”

I froze. Here it comes.

“Wait, wait, wait—Kang Haerin from Arae Tuition? Your mom’s that insane Korean language tutor with like three YouTube channels and test prep books in bookstores? You’re that Kang Haerin?”

The question — the way she said it—wasn’t cruel. It was just… shocked. And a little fascinated.

I pressed my lips together and nodded once. “Yeah. That’s me.”

She let out a slow whistle. “Wow. You’re kind of legendary. There was this rumour that you did six practice exams a week and scored full marks on all of them. One of my friends used to cry after watching your mock papers.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.

Danielle must’ve noticed my silence, because her expression softened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just… didn’t expect you to be you.”

“It’s fine,” I said automatically, even though it wasn’t.

People always had a reaction. The hagwon girl. The daughter of the ‘famous’ tutor. The perfectionist who got hospitalised from overwork and still topped the finals.

They never saw the real part. The part where I couldn’t sleep because I was too scared of letting my mom down. The part where my mom smiled at my report card like it was a business win. The part where I listened to her and my dad fight in whispers past midnight, because yelling might damage the brand. 

They just saw the name—the image. 

“Well,” Danielle said, and her voice was quieter this time, “you don’t seem like a hagwon robot. You seem… kind of cool, actually.” 

I wasn’t sure how to respond. So I didn’t. I just looked at her again, that wide-eyed smile and natural warmth. Something about her felt like a direct contradiction to my life. A breath of air when I’d been underwater too long. 

My phone buzzed in my blazer pocket—a message from Heesoo.

Ban Heesoo

u better not be late on ur first day, loser 🙄

also, pls try not to make everyone fall in love with u again 

or do, up to u

I laughed under my breath. 

Danielle peeked over. “Ooh, who’s that? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” 

“She’s my best friend,” I said. “Ban Heesoo.”

Danielle grinned. “She sounds fun.” 

“She is.” 

The silence that followed was easier, less loaded. Like we’d crossed an invisible line — from polite strangers to maybe, possibly not-strangers. 

“Come on,” Danielle said after a moment, tugging me toward the glass doors. “Let’s go find your homeroom. And don’t worry about the hagwon thing. This place? No one’s perfect. That’s kind of the point.” 

And for the first time that morning, I wasn’t sure if I felt dread or something else entirely. 

Please let me know what you think! I learn pretty quick and I'm open to all sorts of comments, feedback, advice, constructive criticism or compliments 😉

[highonmarvel]

heyy i would like to request a fic with yandere bucky with a mute reader. How he'd be kidnapping and keeping her. or something. its really up to you. i just really liked the idea and couldnt find it anywhere for the life of me 😭😭😭😭 love your fics btw and im sure you'll do something great with it😻😻

I didn’t add the kidnapping because I was thinking of possibly making a part 2, so if you really wanna see it, let me know. Anyway, sorry for the very long wait, but here it is! It’s lighter than my usual stuff, but I really liked this idea! I just had like three plot lines I wanted to take with it and got overwhelmed and just ended with this.

Buttercup

Bucky Barnes: A trip to the bookstore leads Bucky to a woman quieter than he is.

CONTENT WARNING! all my fics contain dark content including, but not limited to, noncon, dubcon, and explicit descriptions of violence and abuse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+, please! This piece is lighter but features unhealthy relationship tendencies and mild depictions of violence.

The man seated behind the counter isn’t paying any attention to his surroundings, as evidenced by his non-reaction to the bell sounding above the door when Bucky enters his quiet bookshop. Instead of wandering through the shelves aimlessly and because of Sam telling the soldier he should make an effort to not appear icy and unapproachable all the time, Bucky walks up to the counter and can’t quite muster a smile, but sort of gets something in between a friendly quirk and an awkward nod.

“Hi. Can you recommend something I’d like if I enjoyed The Hobbit?” Sam bringing up Gandalf reminded him of his love for reading, or at least his mild enjoyment of it. Bucky saw the years taken from him as a past he shouldn’t want to return to, but since being reunited with (and then once again losing) Steve and hearing him talking about the decades taken from them as some kind of wonder to get to live for the first time rather than a reminder of their pain, Bucky has been interested in taking up hobbies he had from back then, and finding out how they’ve evolved over all this time. He remembers being interested in Stark’s inventions, even if he wasn’t the greatest fan of the man himself, and he’s now sort of got himself into mechanics — or, at least fixing up his bike and tinkering with a different one if he’s feeling more confident (he tests his additions to his old bike first in case they mess up the one he uses for missions and stuff). But in all honesty, he’s caught himself up on that, and then some, but maybe he should try a less strenuous activity, like just sitting and reading, letting himself be carried away from all his worries, give his body a break.

“Ask her,” the cashier replies, not looking up from his phone and pointing past Bucky down the aisle. He knows it isn’t actually, but it feels like he turns in slow motion, and when he sees you, it dims all around except for a ray of sun shining down on you, spotlighting the sight of the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen standing in the middle of a not very wide aisle, swaying slightly as she reads the book she holds as delicately as a butterfly in her hands.

“Call her Buttercup,” he goes on, “’Cause she cups these things in her hands like butter or something.” Bucky turns back to the distracted man with a furrowed brow, but he doesn’t seem to care that what he said doesn’t make sense, his attention turned back to the phone he’s got turned landscape to play Clash of Clans. Immediately, Bucky got the sense this guy was some sort of an idiot, but hearing him talk about novels in such a dismissive way solidifies it. Turning back to you eases the mild irritation, but brings him something like sadness. He sees a sort of magic in you, or can at least feel you see magic in the world, magic all around you, and it makes him want to save you from this. He can tell you work here because you love it, he doubts you make much money from it, and the fact your seemingly only other coworker appears to be barely literate lets him briefly slip into a fantasy where you could live with him; he’ll turn his office into a library for you to get lost in, anything you wanted to see your eyes light up the way they are scanning through pages.

He stands up straight and sucks in a breath before beginning his walk up to you, trying to hide this newfound bashfulness he’s feeling that he’s never felt before — not like this, anyway.

“Hi,” he greets, aware that he’s slightly breathless but unable to be embarrassed about it because he’s willing to literally describe you as breathtaking.

When you look up at him with a warm smile, his anxiety somehow melts away yet doubles. He’s immediately put at ease by your friendliness, but simultaneously, your beauty truly does make him nervous, and he’s never seen anything as beautiful as your smile. In that moment, he decides he’ll do whatever it takes to be able to see that smile everyday for the rest of your life.

“I really liked The Hobbit,” he admits, “Could you recommend anything like that?”

He watches you carefully slide the book you were holding back into its slot (Virginia Woolf, he’s got to remember that name so he has something to discuss with you) and walks like he’s in a trance when you’ve gestured for him to follow you.

A few aisles over, you crouch down and his eyes remain fixated on you as you run your finger across a few spines before emerging with a thick book. He smiles at you when you hand it to him before looking down at the cover.

“The Lord of the Rings,” he reads aloud, and you nod enthusiastically. He raises his eyebrows at you, “Have you read it?”

You nod again and move to stand beside him. Bucky isn’t wearing his gloves because he anticipated this being a quick and ultimately meaningless trip to get a book, so he’s shocked when you place your soft hand on his left to lower the book to your level. What’s even more shocking is you don’t flinch at all, don’t take a second (maybe not even a first) glance at his hand as you touch the cool metal, unaware you’re touching one of the deadliest weapons on Earth. You tap your finger under the name at the bottom of the cover, highlighting,

“JRR Tolkein, huh?” Bucky says, and lets you take his other hand to gently turn the book over and let him scan the blurb.

“I didn’t know he made a sequel,” Bucky mutters, intrigued both by the fact he somehow didn’t know and by the blurb itself. You open to the page with all the credits and point to,

“1954? He took his time making the next one, huh?” For some reason he playfully pokes you in the side, and is relieved when you grin and nod. You shut the book and hand it back to him.

“Did you like it? The book, I mean?”

You pull a funny face and turn your hand from side to side.

“Do you only like the artsy stuff? I saw you reading Virginia Woolf over there.”

You smile and roll your eyes, giving him a playful shove. He laughs and lets a silence fall over the two of you when you get lost in reading the titles across the shelves again.

“Um,” he breaks the quiet, “What’s your name?”

He watches you tug a name badge out of your pocket and reads it aloud when you hold it up to him before nodding and taking a mental note like this is the most valuable piece of information he’s ever heard. “That guy over there said to call you ‘Buttercup.’ Do many people?” You nod. “Do you mind it?” You shake your head. “Alright,” he steps back with a breathless chuckle and holds up the book. “Thanks.”

You smile and wave until he turns around, heart thumping in his chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever spoken that much in such a short amount of time, and it makes him sort of panicked, the kind of effect you’re having on him. It’s out of character for him to be worked up so easily, and far out of character for him to be so chatty. He pays as quick as he can with the sluggish and disinterested cashier’s work ethic and has to stop himself from skipping on the way home.

Bucky jogs past the store nearly every day on his regular running route, but hasn’t had the courage to head back in to see you. He finished that thick ass book not three days after buying it, thinking it would be a good distraction from you (not that he minded the thought, but you were permeating his every thought and it wasn’t doing him any favours) but he found he was only really reading it so he had something to talk about instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words if he ever saw you again.

And nearly two weeks after his first visit, he somehow finds his feet have walked him right back into the store. The same dope is behind the counter and Bucky doesn’t bother with him, immediately ducking into the aisles and trying to casually bump into you again. He can tell he’s really shaken by you when you tap him on the shoulder and he jumps — his heightened senses make it so it’s virtually impossible to sneak up on him, but he’s been feeling so uncharacteristically shy lately that he’s been spacing out.

You startle slightly when he quickly spins around, leaning back but grinning up at him. He raises his arms up from his sides a little and slaps them back down against his thighs with an exaggerated breath, trying to hide the dopey smile he can feel creeping up.

“Not many people can scare me, you know,” he says, and you raise your eyebrows as if to say ‘I know.’ From where the courage comes he can’t really say, but he manages to ask, “Would you like to go out sometime?”

When you look away, he frowns and deflates slightly, but when you turn back and hold up ten fingers, he realises you were checking the clock hanging on the far wall. It’s ten to twelve so he surmises your break must be at midday with a relieved chuckle.

The café you lead him to isn’t far and isn’t busy.. The walk is quiet, and Bucky can’t stop himself from watching adoringly as you look up at the trees, stray hairs whipping around your face and the sun shining down on your skin, making him notice a few freckles littered across your nose with a smile. He’s grateful you don’t notice, too caught up in enjoying the fresh air, because he’s not sure he could tear his eyes away if he wanted to.

Once you’re seated, Bucky tells the perky waitress he’d like a black coffee only, and looks over at you, expecting you to give your order, and for the first time, he notices something.

You call the waitress down to peer at the menu where you point at something, and she nods, smiles, and heads back to the kitchen.

“You don’t talk?” Bucky asks you, and nearly winces at how insensitive the question might come across, but you offer him a small, reassuring smile and he relaxes. You shake your head and he nods.

“Me too,” he replies, to which you tilt your head and raise a brow, unable to hide an amused grin. He lets out a breathy laugh and leans back, drumming his fingers across the edge of the table. “You just… bring it out in me.”

As your coffee rendezvous progresses, Bucky can see why he never noticed you don’t speak. You react so appropriately to his stories it’s easy to forget you’ve never made a sound: throwing your head back and grinning when he says something humorous, raising your brows in shock and covering your mouth with both hands when he reveals something terrifying (nothing too hectic, though—it’s not like he’s telling you about his whole history, but he does speak a little about Thanos).

“Where were you during those five years?”

You flick your wrist above your head, and he replies, “Me, too!” To anyone else, he must seem like someone who’s regularly sunny, but to Bucky, it’s like his heart is going to explode; even at his most happy, he’s never felt like this, like he’s ready to shoot into the sky, or do the most ridiculous things to see your beautiful smile again. And for a moment, he considers the possibility that maybe he’s more vain than he realised, and he’s only enjoying your company so much because he’s talking about himself, but when the waitress comes back around to deliver the bill and smiles at you, he picks up that she’s been touched by you in some way.

“Do you know her?” Bucky asks as he signs the piece of paper and leaves a few bills behind.

He stands with you and watches as you gesture to your pocket. He’s confused for a moment before looking over at the waitress who’s now chatting with the barista, when he notices a very small, keychain teddy bear poking out of her jean pocket.

“You gave her that?” He asks, and you nod, a proud smile on your face. A closer look reveals the ornament is actually knitted. “Oh, you knit? That’s really cool,” he offers, unsure how to make conversation around all the questions he wants to ask you. Once you step back outside, he tries again. “Do you like people?”

You tilt your head, a pensive look crossing your face for a few moments, before pulling a face and shrugging with a shy smile and shifting your hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture.

“Really? It really seems like you do.”

He looks away, but you tap him to regain his attention, a curious expression on your face.

“People like you.”

You smile and give a hesitant shrug as you reach the door to the bookstore again and stop to stand across from him.

“Or, at least I do,” he admits, nervously. His heart begins pounding in his chest when your cheeks flush and you bite your lip, looking away like you’re trying to hide a wide grin. He ducks his head so he’s in your sight line again. “Do you… like me?” he asks, feeling like a teenage boy again.

You look back up at him, your bottom lip still pulled between your teeth as you nod, and he lets out a relieved sigh, smiling back at you. Bucky likes that the first sound he’s ever heard from your lips is a soft kiss pressed to his cheek.

***

Bucky isn’t a very jealous man, but there’s something about the way you’re perceived by others that makes his jaw tick. Maybe it’s not all that impressive, but it’s incredible to him how magnetic you are to everyone around you without saying a single word, and at first, Bucky thought he felt protective, but now he’s realised, he’s not jealous of everyone else, he’s jealous of you. Bucky has never really minded that his stoic silence keeps people away, but he didn’t realise that he constantly looks grumpy—and he is, but he’s always thought it was the quiet that intimidated people, but with you, that’s clearly not the case. When you take him out with your friends, Bucky sits next to you, silently, but your friends don’t warm up to him. Strangers gravitate towards you—random people are comfortable asking you for directions, to watch their bags for a few minutes, they smile and greet if you make eye contact—and that’s something he can’t do, and he can’t deny his envy.

You’ve made breakfast and are sitting at Bucky’s dining room table, but he hasn’t said a word. He’s quieter lately, and part of you thought he was just mirroring your energy, but he’s also become withdrawn, more distant, and just colder.

You finish up and kiss him on the cheek before you head out for work, leaving him to brood and pick at his eggs.

You only work with one other person who’s the guy at the counter, Jacob; he doesn’t seem to have much interest in any of this—it’s just a job, you get that—but you also really wish you could get him to pick up a book. An idea strikes you when you set your bag down in the back, and you dash through the aisles, scanning for le Carré.

When you stroll up to Jacob and he doesn’t look up, you place the book over his phone loudly blaring battle noises. You can see him start to get worked up, about to protest, when his brow turns for a second as he reads out loud, “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy?”

You nod.

“Isn’t that the movie with Benedict Cumberbatch and Gary Oldman?”

You nod again, excitedly bouncing on your toes and flipping the novel over so he can read the back. “I liked the film…” He mutters to himself before looking up at you. “You think I’d like this?” You answer with a smile, and his body relaxes. “Huh, alright.”

***

Bucky is feeling guilty when he parks his car outside the bookstore—it’s not right that he’s taking out this frustration on you by returning to his usual grumpy mood, especially when you’ve done nothing to deserve it and everything to bring him out from under the grey cloud that’s loomed over him for decades.

So he got you a bouquet of bright yellow buttercups to make up for it, or at least to non-verbally acknowledge he was being an ass, and he’s delicately holding the stems in his left hand when he hears a male laugh sound from inside the shop.

Curious, and also somewhat enviously, he sneaks closer and presses himself up against the glass, but he’s invisible from the inside due to a decal stuck across the window reading some stupid book pun he can’t care to remember. Bucky ducks his head and stretches his neck just enough to see into the shop, where he catches sight of your fingers lightly brushing across your idiot coworker’s jersey—you’re standing behind him, like you just helped him get it on. He knows you’re not the type to casually fuck a guy, especially not at work, but that sort of makes his jealousy grow—you hadn’t ever seemed interested in this guy but the one time Bucky’s having an off day you’re suddenly laughing together? In fact, he might have preferred it if you had sex because it seems like your idiot coworker (whose name he does not know and who is apparently even more of an idiot than he thought possible) just couldn’t put on a fucking cardigan on his own and for some reason the two of you find it hilarious. He feels a sort of poison building in his throat, which he quickly swallows down and tries his best to mask when he hears your footsteps coming.

Bucky darts out from the shadows and casually strolls up like he’d just gotten out of the car.

“Hey!” He smiles and leans down to kiss you on the cheek. “What’s up, Buttercup?” He likes that the dumb line made you smile, but he swings angry eyes Jacob’s way when he smirks, too, wants to ask ‘Is something funny?’ but refrains from it when he feels you tap the hand holding the flowers.

“Uh– yeah,” he says, snapping himself out of whatever jealous rage he was going to go into due to a harmless smirk. “They’re– they’re for you.”

You open your mouth in a gasp gesture as you delicately take the stem from his hand.

“Looks damaged.” And if Bucky wanted to punch this guy before, he wants to beat him half to death now. But he is right—Bucky had been gripping the flowers a little too tightly while watching you through the window and the stems had been squashed a bit. You wave your hand dismissively as you turn the bouquet over and rub your fingertips over the petals, and Bucky thinks that’ll be the end of it, but the poor guy goes on.

“Aw, buttercups, just like you.” He grins and nudges you in the shoulder, and you turn a bit bashful, until he adds, his eyes never leaving the flowers in your hands, “You should be more careful.” Your smile drops and a tense silence settles over your small group before Jacob looks up at Bucky and says, “It was nice meeting you,” and then turns to give you a quick side hug, “Bye, Buttercup.”

Bucky stares after your coworker as he makes his way down the pavement, whistling like a real fucking asshole. He clenches his fists at his sides and doesn’t let up his staring even when you place a hand over his. You have to wave your hand in his face to get him to look down at you, and when he does he looks terrifying, eyes wide and breathing heavy through his flared nostrils. You retract your hand and try to step back but Bucky grasps your wrist before you can move any further. He places your palm on his cheek and leans into your touch as he lets out a deep breath. At least he’s calmed down.

He drops your wrist and looks down at you sincerely, his voice thick with honesty and affection as he says, “I love you, Buttercup.”

The next sound you hear is a gunshot ringing out into the dusk and what sounds like a heavy sack hitting the sidewalk a hundred metres up the street.

✪

[thank you for the support, my beloved taglist; my beautiful sister @thehydraethereal, @cowboysnbugs, @cherrysscinema, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @mybabygirllove, @chinggay85-blog, @buck-star, @10ava01, @darkles-6, @dreamlesssleepsaga]

[r0seb100d]

just watched rumble fish and I can’t stop thinking about ponyboy!reader x rusty james😞

like she’s super philosophical n stuff all the time and she’ll say somethin deep and he’ll just look at her like “wtf are you on about”

Hii! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy <3 🤍

Warnings: fem!reader

Rusty-James x philosophical Ponyboy!reader headcannons

- Being honest, when Rusty-James first met you, he thought you were extremely weird and was freaked out by you because of how quiet you were and how spaced out you always seemed. He felt as though you could see something he couldn’t, and his dumbass was genuinely uncomfortable

- You confused him because you sometimes hung out with the gangs, but he couldn’t wrap his head around how you could possibly fit in

- Though he was surprised when he overheard you giving them really good advice about one of the fights that was due to go down that night, and when they successfully ran that gang out of town, he couldn’t get you out of his head

- You mainly hung out with Steve, as you were both on the quiet and intelligent side 

- He eventually warmed up to you when he saw how well you got along with Steve, though he still wasn’t really sure how to communicate with you and definitely would not talk to you on his own

- Though he figured if he could be best friends with Steve, he could get along with you

- He would randomly sit at your booth at Benny’s and talk to you, offering you a coke

- The more he spoke to you the more he realised that he was being an idiot this whole time 

- You reminded him of his brother, the Motorcycle Boy, which made him feel safe with you and he really began to like you

- He enjoyed days where it was just you, him, and Steve, where the three of you would just hang around and he could get a break from violence

- He got really jealous when you and Steve would talk about things he didn’t understand, so he started inviting you to spend time with him on your own, saying Steve was busy

- You really liked him. He was so different to you and he was so real, he didn’t hide anything and you admired that

- You would just talk about anything whilst he smoked, just liking to hear your voice and watch you talk about things that meant a lot to you

- He is really protective of you. Though you are incredibly smart, he sees you as vulnerable and knows what types of guys are around

- He loves how gentle you are, especially when it’s just you and him alone on the couch and he can just lay on your chest while you play with his hair

- You try to get him to read more, but he prefers when you read to him 

- Sometimes you say things that really catch him off guard, like he’ll be talking about a fight he had and you just start going on about a philosophical theory that he has no idea about or how it relates to the conversation

- Bewildered stares. All the time. He just stares at you with the blankest eyes and murmurs a ‘What the fuck are you even talkin’ about…”

- Though he doesn’t always understand, he trusts you with everything. He knows that you know, and that’s all that matters to him

- Always listens to everything you say

- He finds you so endearing

- If anyone dares to interrupt you or judge you for the way you speak he’s immediately on their ass

- You two work surprisingly well together. He breaks you out of your shell and you calm him down

- Very touchy. Always has his hands on you or around you, as it supposedly ‘grounds him’

- He tells you about the Motorcycle Boy and how you would really like him. The two of you are his favourite people that he admires so much

- You two go on long trips together. He’s restless and always needs to be doing something and you just love to visit and explore new places

-You find it really sweet when he tries to bring up something you mentioned, trying to show you that he does listen

- Deep down, he’s afraid that you’ll leave him. He prays that you never do

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ .

Taglist (comment or dm to be added or removed!) : @rhea-is-bored-again @twobit-cade2095 @johnnycadesslut @johnnycadesmuse @kahkie @beyondbluess @angelsentbyheaven @fqdedtulips @marilyn-girly @only-lonely-star @lassoutlaws @g0ddnessshad0ws @princesshailierawr @lalipopppp21 @anyaontheoutside @cozm1xxx @theoneandonly-vrg

[sergle]

Having a STUPID TIME trying to accomplish the very basic task of re-filling my prescription bc my bitch doctor is apparently completely off the grid

[snoozingfae]

Hey there! 😊 Your art is so pretty!! Could you draw Jon and Sansa, please? 💓

well since u asked to nicely😊 Jon Snow and Sansa Stark as the Meeting on the Turret Stairs

art reqs r open✨

[maslows-pyramid-scheme]

I used to wonder how anyone ever managed to live without the internet, but websites and apps have become so user-unfriendly that I honestly don't think losing the internet would bother me anymore.

[iocheaira]

good god. if a THIRD person leaves this team in my 3rd month…..

[lokissweater]

a good man

{bodyguard!kento nanami x rich girl f!reader}

summary: kento nanami has been your appointed bodyguard since the age of nineteen. his poised, calm, respectable mannerisms having you falling to your knees over him as he was completely different than any of the other boys in your life… for he was a man— taking care of your rowdy party girl behaviors and guiding you with the best advice and judgement he could possibly muster, and you loved him, gutted over the fact that he possibly only thought of you as a spoiled little brat who was useless and incompetent, as a client, and you wanting to be more than just that to him… except you were. for kento had already fallen over his knees for you.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, BRATTY AFFF RICH GIRL SPOILED READER she’s a little baddie o yes, LOWKEEEYYY brat tamer kento MEEOOOWWW, FLUUFFF GALLOOREE!!, slight angst!!, kento is SOOO SOOFTTT AND A LIL GENTLEMAANN, blowjob YUM, oral m receiving, mentions of doing the sex, deep throating, SEDUCTIVE AF READER BRO, cursing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sexual themes, kento is older than reader by three years, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 20.3k (i yap i fear)

authors note: I NEED A FUCKING MAN !!!! LIKE KENTO !!! RAAAAHDVSJSBSJSJ this BEAUTIFUL precious concept was a blend and mixy of multiple requests i got for sir nanami blended into one!! :,)) i hope i did you guys justice to those who requested and sent in ideas my loves !!! <3333 AND I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE ITTT JUST AS MUCH AS I DOOO AAHHH !!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO SO SOOO MUCHHH MWAAHHH !! <3333

“please don’t do that.”

you were undoubtedly the most defiant, stubborn girl kento had ever met.

“and why not?” you pouted. “it’s just for a little bit… and i can’t leave my friend hanging when she’s dealing with such a crisis! she needs my help.”

“your help.” kento repeated. “she needs your help going to a party…. at one in the morning.”

“it’s not a party it’s a small gathering—”

“y/n the hour is ungodly right now…” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “i don’t believe this is very wise.”

you finished applying your blush and stepped back from your large vanity, quickly placing your brush back in it’s holder and grabbing your bottle of perfume, spritzing it.

“it’s fine ken!” you looked up and smiled. “i’ll just be gone for a little while i’ll be back before—”

“i’m sorry—” he held a palm up. “you’ll just be gone? darling, you realize i have to go with you.”

“but whyyy?” you mumbled, slouching dramatically and chucking your perfume bottle on your bed. “two hours! just give me two hours i promise i’ll be back—”

“i’m afraid not.”

“whyyyy!” you whined again, and kento only looked at you with a straight stoic face.

“because it’s my job to go with you and you know that.”

and you’d always been defiant and stubborn, kento having known you since you were a little girl as both his and your father were family friends for years, your upbringing a little different from his as your father was exponentially wealthy and owned various companies and properties, his parents just so happening to work for him and gain special bonds and camaraderie over the time of your growing lives.

though kento was only three years older than you— the gap nothing notable or too drastic, it sure as hell felt like it with how bratty and rebellious you were sometimes on a day to day basis that he had to bare witness of since the age of fourteen.

so why kento thought of you so much when you were the epitome of a spoiled princess… was a little unclear to him.

or maybe he did know exactly why— the reasoning transparently clear, to a fucking T actually… yet his pride and the oath he had set with your father the minute kento started pursuing his desired career after high school, hindered him from ever admitting anything to anyone. especially you.

and because he constantly ignored the way he felt, he was regrettably perplexed every time he was around you— which was literally every single second of every waking day since the moment he received his protection licensing… for kento was your bodyguard, hired by your father who saw his interests in technical protection training, and trusted no other man around his daughter other than kento himself, encouraging him to pursue it as a career in the promise that he would guarantee him a position— one with a pay that would have him set for the rest of his life so long as his precious little daughter was happy and safe.

and kento took the offer without so even as a twitch in his serious expression for two reasons.

the first was the obvious, to solidify proper employment for himself in the career that he’d always paid particular interest in ever since he was a kid— to make a man out of himself and work under prestigious and professional levels of security with someone, your father, who’s orders of authority were equivalent to a president, and a man he admired like no other and dreamed of owning a business that was as fruitful as his.

and the other… was to keep an eye on you.

you were reckless, bratty, naive, troublesome, silly, and never took absolutely anything seriously— all things that worried kento to no end anytime you so even managed to slip from his sharp attentive line of sight since the both of you were young.

and you escaping him happened a little more often than he’d like to admit.

like now.

“y/n—”

kento sharply turned upon hearing your snickering little giggles zooming past him and trailing from down the hall already, him swiftly retrieving his blazer that he had previously set on one of your lounge chairs and settling it over his arm, long and hasty steps striding out of your bedroom and down the hall, him peaking in several dark open doors and hallways of your ginormous mansion of a home on his way— the clicking of your heels and you still giggling serving as a guide for him to find you.

he sighed.

“darling, this isn’t going to change the fact that i still have to accompany you—”

kento rounded the corner and entered one of the many lounge area rooms your father used for business meetings and partnerships, your little head poking out from behind one of the large sofas with a disgruntled pouty look.

“says who?”

“says me.” he took the blazer from his arm and extended it, shaking it out a little and preparing to put it on. “and your father.”

you let out a tiny grumble, getting up off your knees and standing.

“but don’t you wanna go to sleep ken?”

“very much so.”

“so then go! i’m giving you permission heh!” you chirped, sending him a striking smile. “i won’t tell my father! or anyone! you deserve a good nights rest—”

“i’m going with you and that’s final.”

you threw your head back and groaned in frustration, kento finding your tantrum a little amusing as he chuckled and shrugged on his blazer.

“you want to go to this event, yes?”

you funnily slugged on over to his side with dragging steps, eyes to the floor. 

“mhm…”

“so then enough fighting and let’s go.” he stepped to the side and gently ushered you forward. “i’d like to be back before your father wakes up.”

you walked forward and out of the lounge room, the both of you beginning your journey down the hall and towards the grand staircase, kento following behind you as you still internally huffed and puffed about him coming along.

your refutes to kento joining you weren’t because you didn’t like him or anything like that… it was quite the opposite actually.

you were obsessed with that man.

“you scare my friends you know…”

the side of his lip quirked.

“do i?”

“mhm.”

“how so sweetheart?”

“i think it’s your face.” you turned your head around and looked behind you as you walked, hands wringing behind your back with a cute grin. “it’s so serious. and it might be because you’re always staring them down whenever they hang out with me.”

kento calmly walked ahead of you and stepped down a few steps, his hand automatically coming up to assist you and you taking it as you carefully descended down the steps, a gentle act he always did for you.

he pursed his lips. 

“i’m simply doing my job… but i suppose i could lay off a bit.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay ken! i agree. they just don’t know you like i do.”

ever since you practically met him you were obsessed— him being the most poised and respectful piece of hunk to ever grace your life, as kento was so unbelievably different from all of the other straight up boys in your life that deemed themselves to be men, when in reality they didn’t even come close to that whatsoever.

kento nanami was the definition of a man.

and out of everything that you’ve ever received on a silver platter with zero hesitation since technically birth… you wanted him the most.

except you were convinced he wasn’t obsessed with you like you were with him.

because the second kento became your bodyguard at the age of literal nineteen, there wasn’t ever a moment that you remember where he wasn’t with you and pulled to your side like a magnet— guarding and watching your every move and making sure that you were out of harms way no matter what, all things that were automatic and essentially part of the job description.

but you feared that it was just that.

that kento didn’t view you the way you viewed him… that you were just a client to him and that the reason he was always around was because he had to be, and not because he wanted to.

you feared that kento only saw you as some helpless spoiled girl who couldn’t do anything for herself and therefore always needed guidance, and you also feared that because he’d known you since you were little and became your bodyguard when you were sixteen, that he still saw you as a sixteen year old and not the full grown woman that you were now.

the thought was mortifying to you.

and you wondered if kento had ever thought about you as something more than just— a client? maybe.. maybe as a lover?

did he at least view you as a friend?

but more importantly, if he wasn’t your bodyguard… would he stay? 

kento assisted you down to the very last step as you shook away your thoughts, the both of you making your way out through the front glass double doors and over to his car in the open driveway, a sleek and shiny black luxury SUV that you always preferred to sit in rather than your own vehicle as his little passenger princess— always and forever and at times putting up a fight when your father would make you drive instead of kento, spouting some nonsense about how he didn’t want you to forget how to drive and become an incompetent girl.

and you’d each time just scoff and roll your eyes— your father always looking for ways to jab scoldings at you and fuss over every choice you’d make regardless of how big or small it was, believing you to be an incompetent girl anyways and you choosing to ignore him and scowl as you moved behind kento’s big buff frame to hide, him knowing to take over and speak for you whenever you did, as your father listened to him better than he did you ever since you were young.

kento in a way also scolded you often and fussed over your choices… but he was gentle. never raising his voice at you or overstepping any boundaries that made you feel like you were stupid and incapable of things, him always giving you the chance to fix it or refute with an open mind and heart to hear you out… and you loved kento. that was a given.

and your dramatic self deemed that the day kento yelled at you for the first time for whatever reason— was the day that you died.

kento smoothly smiled over what you said with closed lips and opened the car door for you, you getting in and pinching the skirt of your flowy mesh dress to readjust once you were seated, straightening it up over your legs as he rounded over and got in the drivers seat.

“i know a way you can lay off a bit so you don’t scare off my friends tonight ken!”

he started the engine and flickered on the high beams, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness ahead of you.

“and that is..?”

you grinned and leaned over the center console, placing your elbow on it and propping your chin up with your palm, him looking at you expectantly.

so handsome.

“why don’t you stare at me instead of staring at them!”

kento breathed in as he looked away, steering around and out of the driveway while your close proximity and sweet expensive perfume wafted all around him— filling up his every system with everything that was wonderfully you as he tried hard not to let it show.

“i believe i already do just that.” he spoke. “it’s my job to watch you darling.”

“okay then watch me harder.”

he blinked, your wording somehow twinging a sense of provocativeness when it wasn’t anything like that at all, and he wanted to wash his brain out with holy water for thinking of something inappropriate like that with you.

but you leaned even closer, lips by his ear as he turned the steering wheel to make an easy left.

“you’re supposed to have eyes only for me right?”

kento swallowed.

“i’m supposed to have eyes everywhere.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back a bit. “okay… but maybe for tonight, just me!”

“i’m afraid if it’s just you i won’t be able to watch for any other signs of abnormality—”

“oh my god booo!” you huffed and plopped back down in your seat, arms crossing as you stared ahead. “you’re no fun…”

kento chuckled and lifted his arm, patting your head and you blushing before he placed his hand back on the gear shift, the only thing on your mind now was how much you wanted to stuff his big fingers in your mouth—

“the event is still the one on melrose street, correct?”

your eyes snapped in his direction. “huh? oh yes! yes it is.”

he pursed his lips, an uncertain look on his face as you faltered and furrowed your brows.

“what ken? what’s wrong?”

“is it the same host and organization as last time?”

“umm…” you pulled your phone out from your purse and scrolled to the initial invite you had received through a friend, perfectly manicured nails tapping away. “uh huh! i’m pretty sure… how come?”

“i don’t think it’d be very wise to go… you got extremely inebriated the last time we went.”

you snorted and waved him off. “that’s because it was my friends birthday ken. i was celebrating!”

“you barfed in a bush as soon as we got home.”

“part of the experience!”

kento shook his head and sighed through his nose, a small smile on his face as he peaked over at you from the side.

“rowdy little girl.”

little girl.

and you felt an unpleasant tug at your heart, you pursing your lips and wanting to defy what he called you.

“i was fine after though, was i not?”

you suddenly grabbed his hand and dropped it down on your exposed thigh, his rough hand making contact with your skin as he accidentally jerked the steering wheel and looked at you with bewildered eyes, you only throwing your head back and laughing.

“what?” you spoke in between giggles. “i’m cold! and your hand’s so warm—”

“honey—”

“your job is to take care of me right?” you sweetly smiled, and he felt a flutter of familiar yet confusing affection swirl up in his chest at the sight. “and you’re doing just that!”

kento cleared his throat and nodded, hand staying on your thigh and you giddy on the inside as he held it.

“just know that i have a blanket in the back in case my hand doesn’t suffice.” he mentioned, pulling up to a gated community. “the weather is a bit colder these days.”

your eyes softened, staring at the side of his chiseled jaw and face as he exchanged a few words with the security guard at the front, flashing his ID before the guard gave him the all clear and muttered something over his walkie talkie, the gates slowing sliding open as a result.

“why do you have a blanket in the back ken?” you asked softly and looked down, the tip of your index finger tracing over the prominent veins on the back of his hand.

“for you.” he replied. “you get cold frequently.”

you grinned.

“awww you remembered!—”

you unbuckled your seatbelt, jumped up from your seat, and flung your arms around his neck and practically stuffed his cheek up against your chest as you gushed, kento’s eyes blinking wide eyed and cheeks fucking flaring as he tried to keep steady hands on the wheel and not swerve into the garbage bins in front of the designated mansion, music already blaring through and seeping through the vents of the car as he fumbled to shift the gear into park— stiffening the hell out of his neck and not daring to turn his head even the slightest in your direction in fear of facing your breasts head on.

“i— i appreciate the sentiment sweetheart—”

you pulled back a tiny bit, your arms still tightly locked around his neck but giving him enough space to turn his head to look up at you now, your twinkling hyper eyes shining even through the darkness of the car, kento almost forgetting about the close proximity between the two of you entirely, and also almost forgetting about how this was— regrettably… considered to be inappropriate.

he was your bodyguard, he was supposed to protect you, not think about the way your perfect smile right now was so incredibly soul crushing and doing it in just the right way too— suffocating his entire being as he tried hard again, in real time, to kick those disrespectful thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on what he was meant to be doing and thinking… all of which pertained to his guidance for you, and your safety, most of all.

but you were beautiful. 

there was no denying that.

“you know me best out of anyone ken.”

and he did. he truly truly did.

but to kento, you were that forbidden fruit, cast away up into the highest of branches and dangling off of the tallest most unreachable tree of all— glimmering against the sun, magnificent… waiting to be picked by the person who dared to and claim it as their own without a single worry of the troubles that came with ravishing it.

but claiming and ravishing that forbidden fruit definitely came with it’s dire consequences, and kento nanami was an honorable man. 

if he were to give in to his pulsing desires for you, desires that he couldn’t even exactly make sense of as he continued to manifest total and utter blockage in his mind to prevent those thoughts from seeping through, not only would he deal with the embarrassing repercussions with your father— his boss, but inevitably drag you down with him too, as he knew your father has always been rather harsh with you.

and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down just because he couldn’t control his emotions.

you frowned, tilting your head as you assessed kento’s strange far off look.

“ken?” you asked. “kenny ken?”

“eh?” he blinked rapidly. “oh i’m sorry y/n. i was… thinking.”

“thinking?” 

you let him go and sat back in your seat, the warmth from your arms dissipating and the goosebumps around his neck prominent now by the chilliness of the car.

“thinking about what?” you quipped, smiling again. “about meee?”

night and day.

“i’m afraid not.” he switched off the ignition and held the keys in his hand. “more about how you should be at home and in bed and most definitely not here.”

you pouted, slumping in your seat as you watched him get out of the car and walk over to your side, opening your door for you and offering a hand for you to take.

“but ken i’m helping a friend.” you took his hand and carefully stepped out, him closing the door behind you as you began walking up the sidewalk with kento following close behind you, the car beeping and flashing its lights to signify he had locked it.

“honey, your friend is a grown woman.” you both walked up the steps and continued down the long wide driveway, other guests traveling alongside you towards the mansion. “she doesn’t need moral support from you to attend an event.”

“yeah and i don’t need a bodyguard for every little thing i do, do i?” you countered, slowing down your steps a little and nudging your shoulder with his. “hm?”

he gave you a deadpanned look.

“actually, you do.”

you scoffed. “no i do not.”

the two of you entered through the grand entrance— doors already open and with a set of security guards on each side as you passed them, kento’s already alert senses amplified now that you both were in an unpredictable loud environment such as this, and with way too many people for kento to keep track of besides yourself as he scanned the area, ticking the usual and automatic tiny boxes in his head that indicated the area was alright for the time being.

“if my friend is such a grown woman, then so am i!” you yelled over the music as you walked through the mansion to get to the pool area outside, passing by several caterers and butlers with small appetizer dishes on silver trays or champagne glasses, you taking one as your gaze switched between person to person to see if you could try and find anyone you recognized.

kento shook his head a little.

contrary to your popular belief, you never acted like a grown woman sometimes— constantly rebellious and spontaneous with no hesitations to do anything remotely reckless… and that worried him to absolutely no end as he was living in constant stress over something happening to you— something that he could easily prevent and steer you away from because that’s what he was fucking there for.

but you were always against it, and he didn’t know why when it was simply just protection.

upon entering the pool area, your eyes lit up at the rowdy scene before you— party guests jumping into the pool in full fledged clothing or throwing each other in, the bar at the end of the backyard lively and busy with multiple individuals already drunk off of their minds as they clumsily passed by you and nearly tumbled you over, kento each time quick to grab your shoulders and gently pull you away so they’d just about miss you and continue on.

and the minute he caught sight of your group of friends off to the side of the bubbling jacuzzi right before you did, every single one of them already inebriated and rambunctious, he knew he was in for a night of chasing you around and getting you to sober up a little to refrain yourself from running across the lawn in only your undergarments like the last party you both attended.

“y/n! hi!” one of your friends slightly slurred, the one with the ‘crisis’, reaching behind her to grab a red solo cup of god knows what and passing it to you. “here! i just got some from the kitchen!”

“what is it?” you laughed, on the verge of placing the brim to your lips when kento suddenly nudged you, gently prying it away from your fingers and lifting it up to his nose for inspection, you playfully rolling your eyes as you turned back to your friend.

“dunno!” she shrugged, flashing you a wobbly grin. “it’s a mix of tequila aaanddd… cranberry tonic! yeah!”

“smells awfully strong.” kento muttered in your ear, passing the cup back to you. “just moderate your intake.”

“okay dad.” you mocked, the little side smile on your face never failing to deactivate any further scoldings from him about how you shouldn’t drink that mix and maybe get something else, him deciding to just let you have fun regardless of the work he was about to be put through… as it was hard for kento to say no to you at times anyways.

you brought the rim back to your lips and took a sip, your face immediately scrunching up and gagging.

“the fuck is this?” you placed a hand over your mouth. “tastes nothing like cranberry and just straight vodka—”

you ended up drinking the entire cup and two more fills after that, kento each time gently advising you not to and that you’d had enough, but you only pouting and bratty and defying him with every attempt he made at pulling the drink away from you, a water bottle in hand that he’d snagged from one of the coolers as he swiftly moved through the twists and turns of the crowd to stay caught up with you, a skill he was an expert at at this point considering how often you disappeared from his line of sight.

“sweetheart please—” kento caught you by the waist just as you were about to literally jump in the pool, you giggling and hiccuping as he dragged you away. “let’s take a seat for a moment alright? you need to drink water.” 

“what i need is a teeny weeny kiss from you ken!”

he faltered, eyes dropping to the ground as he continued to half drag and half carry your body to a nearby table away from the commotion by the pool, setting you down on a chair.

“you need water.” he pushed as he knelt down on a knee in front of you, unscrewing the cap. “and i’m forbidding you from attending any events like this for a month.”

“a month?!” you whined, head dramatically falling back in desperation. “but why? what did i do?!”

“i told you to moderate your intake.” he gently grabbed your jaw and brought the water bottle to your lips, carefully holding it up for you to drink. “you were just about to jump in the pool darling and ruin your dress.”

lowering the bottle, your cheeks cutely puffed up with water as you shook your head side to side.

you swallowed. “lies. i was simply walking!”

he fixed the strap of your dress that was halfway sliding off, pulling it back over your shoulder.

“yes into the pool.” he brought the water bottle back to your lips and you drank some more before he lowered it again. “you need to be more careful y/n.”

you pouted. “are you mad at me ken?”

“not mad just quite stressed—”

“pull my dress up and spank me then.”

kento slapped a hand over his eyes and shook his head, cheeks buzzing pink at your ludicrous statement.

“don’t say things like that honey.”

“and why not?” you tilted your head, pearly white teeth glimmering against the warm lights of the backyard as he dropped his hand. “thought you loved me.”

“please sober up.” he breathed out exhaustedly, heart hammering against his fucking chest as he made you drink water again. “before you say something silly again—”

you abruptly pulled back and a few droplets of water dribbled down your chin, kento quick to grab the handkerchief in his suit to pat you dry as you narrowed your eyes.

“you think loving me is silly?” you muttered, a little slur at the end of your sentence.

“of course not darling.” he spoke softly, placing the handkerchief down on the table behind you. “the other thing you said was silly—”

“what— spanking me?” you lit up again. “but it’s hot. and i want it. you should do it once we get to the car—”

kento slapped a hand over your mouth this time, wide frantic eyes looking around to see if anyone had heard your loud lewd blabbering, his face absolutely fucking red at this point as he tried not to vividly imagine what you had just said… and pathetically failing at it too.

“enough. we’re going home. you have brunch with the monroe’s tomorrow.”

“nuh uh!”

you pulled his hand away from your mouth and gripped the edges of your chair, trying to cement yourself to it as he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled and tugged, you laughing when he’d manage to of course— lift you up… but the chair along with it as well.

“let go please.”

“nope!”

“i said let go y/n.”

“if you give me a kiss!”

kento put you back down and sighed.

“you are unbelievably inebriated.”

“and you are unbelievably handsome.” you cheesed as you got closer, your nose brushing against his and kento’s breath catching in his throat, stiffening up.

“darling you don’t know what you’re saying—”

“yes i do.” you spoke, endearingly nudging your nose softly with his and kento’s eyes warming at the act. “you’re gods favorite.”

hopeless hopeless girl…

his eyes sinfully flickered down to your pretty lips, plushy and delightful as they perfectly stretched in such a way to form a striking smile that always sent men to their knees wherever you both went, him baring witness to it all as your bodyguard… and him included— falling to his knees over you.

for kento was just as hopeless as you.

but he was better at ignoring it until it became this puzzling blur in his brain that confused the ever living shit out of him.

“let’s go home.”

his breath fanned against your lips and you softly shook your head.

“kiss me then we’ll go.”

kento’s forehead fell against yours, eyes closing in borderline pain as his big hands came up to cup your cheeks, your own eyes loopily widening with overactive exciting thoughts over what was about to transpire.

if he was about to kiss you… could this mean he didn’t view you as just a client? as a little girl? but a woman?

was he considering it? did you have a chance? was he actually about to fucking kiss you?—

kento sharply breathed in and turned your head slightly to the side, planting his lips hard on your cheek and him unmoving for a moment, you still wide eyed and shocked as your cheek mushed up against the force of his mouth.

he pulled back with a smack! and stood, hand extending out for you to take.

“ready now?”

your fingers slowly came up to the side of your face in a complete daze, because though it wasn’t a full blown kiss, the linger of his lips was still there even after the gesture was long over, your little cheek tingling and warm.

you nodded, taking his hand and attempting to stand but reeling over as you did, your head in complete drunken disarray as kento’s arms quickly shot out and caught you from falling face first on the ground.

“i can’t—” you giggled, hiccuping between each laugh. “i can’t walk ken. and my feet hurt.”

“i’m aware.” he sighed, sitting you back down on the chair and kneeling again, grabbing your ankle.

“what are you doing?” you asked, watching the way he propped up your foot and tugged at the clasp on your heels, carefully sliding it off and beginning to do the same with the other.

“you’re in pain, yes?” he slipped your other heel off and stood, placing your heels on a nearby table before positioning himself next to you, sliding a hand under your knees. “put your arms around my neck sweetheart.”

you did as told, your little heart singing happy drunken tunes over him being such a gentleman and taking care of you in the way that he was, you knowing in the morning you’d regret it and be embarrassed, but choosing to bask in the moment for the meantime and deal with the horrific hungover consequences later.

kento easily lifted you with only one fucking arm supporting you under your knees as you held on, his other hand grabbing your heels before weaving through the other tables and venturing out of the pool area, everybody else too inebriated to care or notice some big bulky man carrying you out through the backyard and inside the mansion, your head resting against his chest.

“are you alright?” he asked, taking a quick glance down at you as he reached the grand entrance to exit. “do you feel ill?”

“no i’m okay.” you smiled. “just thinking about the fact that you’re a cheater.”

he chuckled. “a cheater? in what way?”

kento carefully stepped down the steps and began his walk across the spacious lawn back to the car, you tightening your grip on his neck and wanting him to hold you like this forever.

“the deal was for a kiss.”

“and i gave you one.” he softly smiled, squeezing your thigh a little in emphasis.

“on the cheek!” you retorted. “i wanted one on the mouth.”

kento blushed furiously and looked away, trying to straighten himself up as he walked down the sidewalk with you in his arms.

“you didn’t specify darling.”

“yeaahhh right.” you mumbled, watching the lights of his car flash up ahead as it unlocked by the click of kento’s keys, him coming up to the passenger side and opening the door. “just say you’re repulsed by me.”

he scoffed. “you’re saying silly things again.”

“the proof is in the pudding.”

kento carefully bent and set you down on your seat, placing your heels next to you on the floor and straightening out the skirt of your dress for you. 

“the proof is that you’re drunk. i’m not making any moves like that when you’re not in the correct state of mind.”

you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth. “are you saying you would have? if i was sober? did you bring my water with you? i need to drink it right now where is it—”

“dear god i did not say that.” he closed the door and came round to the other side, an amused little smile on his lips as he got in. “and i’m sorry but i left it behind.”

“kentooo!” you whined. “now how else are you supposed to kiss me?”

he shakily pressed the ‘on’ button for the ignition and looked away, your bold words and requests and moves serving as sheer torment to him as they one after the other kept being thrown at his face, him aware this is how you usually were anyways, but ten times unbelievably worse now that you were intoxicated.

and kento was growing weaker.

“i’m not supposed to do anything.” he backed out of the parking space and sped off. “and it’s nearly four in the morning y/n. you have brunch with the monroe’s at ten and you’re supposed to be up by eight.”

you groaned, head dropping back against the headrest as you crossed your arms. 

“i never wanted to go to that in the first place.” you muttered. “the monroe’s and their girl friends and whoever else is going are a bunch of boring bitches. all they talk about is what their daddies just bought them.”

the yearly monroe brunch was a way for you and the other daughters of your fathers various business partners to bond and maintain connections, some sort of peace treaty between them all so long as their little preppy daughters were kept satisfied and spoiled, your father forcing you to go every year and demanding you to keep friendships with them all, insisting that it would serve beneficial to him with their parents and help nourish the business even more than it already was.

you genuinely liked the monroe daughters and the rest of the girls at first, sixteen year old you seeking their validation and acceptance for years and constantly following after every little thing that they did, afraid of slipping up and landing in their rotten graces as soon as you did anything that would upset them… until they started badmouthing kento.

after that you didn’t give a fuck. 

because anyone that was so willing as to talk bad about such a respectful and kind man as kento to you, was someone who immediately feel in your rotten graces, each and every one of them doing so the minute they started calling him weird for constantly following you around, putting him down for it and saying he should find something better to do than be your bodyguard, and that you didn’t need such high class protection and deeming it unnecessary.

whether they were jealous of the fact that you had a bodyguard and they didn’t was mystery to you, but ever since that day, you despised the yearly monroe brunch, you now aware of who they truly were and realized how blind you were to it just because you were seeking their validation— wanting nothing to do with them from that point forward and begging your father to just let you skip out and that they were better off without you there anyways.

but he never listened.

kento laughed, nodding curtly over what you said. “although true, you still have to go honey.”

“i don’t know why my father can’t just piss off.” you sighed and looked out the window, cars zooming past you as he drove down the freeway. “i really don’t see the point in me going.”

“you’re an important asset.” he spoke. “all of the daughters coming together is tradition.”

“what— to sit there and drink tea and eat muffins? stupidest tradition i’ve ever heard ken.”

he chuckled, reaching over to pat your thigh and your cheeks going pinky as he did so, your drunken mind still somehow clearly recalling when he had his warm hand on you earlier in the car prior to the party.

he went to retract his hand and you quickly stopped him, timidly placing it back on your thigh and settling your hand over his big one, the both of you nervously avoiding eye contact and choosing not to say anything.

kento understood wholeheartedly why you hated going to the monroe brunch so much, for he wasn’t particularly a fan of hearing them talk for hours about who’d they just dumped or what they’d just bought, and he sympathized with you— really, your father although a man he admired for his work ethic and sought after for his approval, was unrighteously stoic with you and always dismissed your thoughts and opinions, the fact saddening kento whenever he witnessed it first hand.

“you’ll be alright.” he spoke up quietly again, noticing the way you were dozing off a little in your seat. “it’s just for brunch. you won’t have to worry about seeing them again until next year.”

“you mean until the dinner party we’re hosting next week.” you sleepily muttered, eyes closed as both of your hands laid over his that was on your thigh, holding it almost as if you were afraid that kento would pull away, his eyes softening at the thought.

“ah, that’s right.” he pulled into your gated community, the security guard already recognizing kento and his car as he merely waved and pressed the button to open the gate, driving through once it did entirely. “i had forgotten.”

“mmm..” you hummed, and he smiled, facing the road again and turning the wheel with every curve and turn of your neighborhood, your dimly lit mansion coming into view eventually and him pulling up to park in your grandiose driveway next to you car, turning off the ignition.

you laid still and pretty in your seat, chest slowly rising and falling as you softly breathed through your nose, you in a drunken slumber as kento quietly got out of the car and went over to your side, opening your door.

“darling.” he whispered, shuffling an arm under your knees and the other on your back. “i need to carry you up, okay? hold onto me please.”

you mumbled incoherently and did so, your arms limply wrapping around his neck as he carried you out of the car and shut the door with a push from his leg, locking his car and the little horn going off again as he hoisted you up, walking up the stone path of your driveway and up to the grand double doors— one of your housekeeping staff already there holding the door open for you both, them also used to your late night partying and shenanigans.

“thank you.” he whispered gratefully as he passed, and they nodded, locking up the house behind you as kento continued on up the staircase and down the spacious hallway, his dress shoes clicking against the shiny flooring and echoing across the silence as he reached your bedroom.

he carefully set you down on your bed once inside, you groggily rubbing your eyes as he stepped back and over to your large vanity, rummaging through your things and drawers while knocking a few nail polishes and perfumes over— various clatterings and kento cursing under his breath over the noise, it making you sleepily giggle.

“what are you looking for ken?” you whispered, one of your eyes tiredly peeking open.

“your— ah… i’m afraid i can’t remember what it’s called—”

he gestured to his face. “you remove your makeup with it sweetheart.”

you closed your eye again. “oh my wipes..? they’re in the bottom drawer to your left.”

he opened the corresponding drawer and reached in, taking out your makeup remover wipes and walking back over to you, peeling open the packing and sliding an individual white wipe out, you lifting a hand out to grab it but stopping once he moved it away from you.

you drowsily looked up at him, about to speak until he took your chin in between his fingers and tilted you up, him bending a bit and lifting his hand to wipe off your makeup, delicately removing it with precision as you tiredly let a small smile grow on your lips.

“i can do it ken it’s okay.”

he shook his head, you closing your eyes as he wiped off your mascara. “oh it’s alright you’re exhausted… and i’ve seen you do it quite a few times.”

you peaked your other eye open, his handsome face so unforgettable against the moonlight streaming through your balcony doors that your little sleepy heart started gushing over literally just who he was, your head leaning into his touch.

“kay…”

he finished wiping the rest of it off after a minute, tossing it into your little bin under your vanity desk before walking over to your walk-in closet and disappearing for a few moments, coming back out with one of your silk baby blue pajama sets in hand, offering it out to you.

“change please.” you sluggishly took the set from him and nodded. “i’ll be just outside—”

“no it’s okay.” you stood and reached for the hem of your dress. “you can stay—”

you pulled up your dress with no fucks given and kento’s eyes bulged open, immediately slapping a hand over his eyes and spinning around with his heart thumping on overdrive, the image of your perfect body adorned with a lacy white bra and panties a hard one to try and— unfortunately— forget for the sake of respecting your privacy and the most intimate parts of yourself.

you giggled and kento shook his head in desperation, placing a hand on his hip.

“don’t do things like that honey.” he scolded gently, a hand still over his eyes as you changed. “at least wait until i avert my attention—”

“you don’t wanna see?” you pouted, finishing by buttoning up your top and tugging at the sleeve of his suit for him to turn around. “it’s all for you ken.”

for— for—

oh dear god help him.

“it’s time to sleep.” he reached around you and pulled back the covers of your bed, you whining. “come on you have brunch with the monroe’s—”

you grumbled and climbed on, dropping yourself on the mattress and shuffling under your various fluffy blankets and sheets, him helping you in pulling them over you until they were settled comfortably by your chest.

“kento.”

“hm?” he hummed, still fiddling with your blankets and basically tucking you in, you finding it incredibly sweet.

“thank you for always taking care of me.”

he stopped, eyes flickering to yours before a soft close lipped smile spread across his face.

“of course darling.” he patted your head. “it’s what i’m here for.”

you knew what he was actually supposed to be there for was only for your protection— to only clock in when you went to events and clock out the second said event was over and done with and you were back home safe and sound.

except kento clocked in the moment your eyes opened for the day, and clocked out as soon as they closed again at night, him by your side through everything in your life and not just for special events, but making sure you had had enough to eat and that you weren’t sick after you spent the day out without a jacket (much to his pestering), that you finished your homework when you were in school and helped you with it as best as he could, and that he was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father yelled at you over something idiotic again— all in all taking care of you like you thought a lover would do for their most treasured thing.

and you hoped you were kento’s most treasured thing.

he was yours, after all.

“i like when you call me darling.” you murmured softly. “and honey. and sweetheart.”

kento swallowed and blushed, thankful that it was sort of dark in your room and that you couldn’t see how pink in the face he actually was over something so minimal.

“i’m glad.” he replied. “you’d let me know if it ever makes you uncomfortable correct?”

you quickly shook your head. “it never makes me uncomfortable ken… ever.”

he nodded, smiling in satisfaction.

“you know what does make me uncomfortable?”

he faltered, brows furrowing in concern.

“what honey?”

“the fact that you still haven’t kissed me on the lips—”

he sharply breathed in and leaned back to stand upright, you giggling and protesting as you flung your arms around his neck before he could, bringing him roughly back down to you and basically pulling him on top of you as kento let out a little oof at the force.

he planted his palms flat on your mattress, trying to lift himself up a bit but unable to due to the astronomical grip you had on him.

“y/n i’m crushing you let me—”

“so?”

“you won’t be able to properly breathe—”

“and? this is the way to go!”

kento laughed into your neck then, managing to lift himself up at least a little bit  to look at you.

“silly girl.” he murmured, and you grinned.

how stunning.

his eyes dangerously switched to your lips, and you noticed this, your heart skipping a small beat in your chest.

“ken.”

“yes?”

“what do you view me as.”

his gaze shifted and locked with yours, his brows pinching together.

“what do you mean honey?”

“like—” you pursed your lips, looking away to the side in embarrassment. “do you see me as just… a client? or just a friend? or like a little girl who doesn’t know how to do anything? or spoiled?”

“a client?” he repeated. “not at all that’s— an awfully wrong term for what you are.”

your head snapped in his direction.

“really?”

he sat up, sitting himself down on the edge of your bed next to you and you scooching over.

“you are spoiled.” he continued, chuckling once he saw the hopeful expression on your face fall and turn sour. “but it doesn’t mean that you’re incapable of doing things… i’ve never once thought of you as such.”

you hummed in acknowledgement, relieved a little.

“do you see me as a woman?” you asked softly.

he looked at you confusedly.

“well— of course. that’s what you are, aren’t you?”

“no i mean—” you sighed, struggling to get the words out as a blush rose to your cheeks. “like a woman. like the kind that makes you want to…”

you faltered, and he waited patiently for you to continue.

“like the kind of woman you’d want to kiss and things… like— like the kind you’d see yourself falling in love with… or am i just— a friend?”

kento froze.

were you still drunk?

“sweetheart it’s not wise to talk about things like this when you’re inebriated please rest—”

“i’m not!” you frantically shook your head. “i sobered up a long time ago…”

dear god.

he can’t answer your question. he can’t answer your question without straight up lying to you just so he can keep that boundary of respect he had for you and your father, to keep the vow kento had with him as your protector, as your guide…

but kento nanami wasn’t a liar.

and kento nanami loved you— a feeling he had idiotically mistaken for confusion when it was actually the plain and utter truth, for what he felt for you was clearer than anything else in his life, and absolutely nothing about it was ever confusing like he swore up and down before that it was.

he’d known…. he’d always known. and that’s perhaps why he took the bodyguard position in the first place without a fret to your father.

to stay by your side. 

to make sure you were safe… with him.

but did he dare?… did he dare to take the pretty forbidden fruit he had tried so hard for years to stay clear from? to leave it glimmering and healthy to flourish on its own no matter how badly he wanted to harvest it and claim for himself?

“i—”

he hesitated, your beady doe eyes looking at him so hopefully that it clenched his heart without mercy.

“i love you…” he spoke softly. “but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice.”

you blinked, unsure if you should take that positively or negatively—

“but i love you still… you know that.”

you looked at him.

“but love in what way?” you responded.

because love you in the way of a friend or family member sure, and you knew kento did at least that much and wouldn’t have spent so much time with you since the ages of eleven and fourteen if otherwise.

but did he love you?

“love… in the way that makes me want to kiss you.” he tugged at the watch on his wrist, referencing to what you had said before. “and love in the way that makes me want to give everything i have to you honey.”

because he has. he’s been.

“really?” you whispered, the wind completely knocked out of your lungs as he picked up his head to look at you, nodding.

kento opened his arms out for you then and you slowly pushed the covers off of you, crawling over and extending your arms to wrap around his abdomen, his around your shoulders while you tucked your face into his chest.

“but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice my love…” he repeated, and you frowned, already feeling your bottom lip wobble.

“why?”

“i have too much respect for you and your father.” he explained, caressing your hair through his fingers. “and i feel that i’m taking advantage of my position by being with you always… that i’m not giving you a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else—”

“i don’t want anyone else.” you cut him off. “i don’t need to explore to figure that out ken.”

you looked up at him, cheek mushed up against him. “you’re with me always too… do you need a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else?”

“no.” he shook his head. “no i absolutely do not.”

you giggled softly. “see? then why would i need one?”

he stared down at you softly, a warm smile that could kill millions if he so let it on his face, and you blushed. 

“i guess you’re right sweetheart.”

kento continued to run his big fingers through your hair, you dozing off a little at the soothing feeling.

“i don’t think your father will be very happy knowing i love you.”

you grumbled. “who cares what that old fart thinks—”

he snorted, lightly tapping your shoulder in a form of scolding, you laughing and holding him tighter.

“he doesn’t have to know for now…” you murmured. “and honestly i didn’t even know you loved me so i think we’re okay—”

“i’m sorry?” he blinked. “i thought i made it somewhat… clear?”

“no!” you countered. “you rejected every move i made ken… you had me basically begging for you.”

his brows pinched in guilt. “i’m sorry my love… i was doing it more for you than for me i— … i didn’t have any ill intent behind it.”

“it’s okay ken.” you smiled cutely, pulling back and propping yourself up by your palms on your mattress, leaning and planting a sweet kiss to his cheek. “though you could’ve just told me you had a begging kink i would’ve understood and begged you to put your fingers in my—”

kento’s eyes widened and he shut you up with a hand over your mouth, your muffled giggles seeping through as he shook his head.

“you have the most vulgar mouth.”

you took his wrist and brought it away, your lips coming next to his ear.

“do something about it then.”

he stilled.

“or do you want me to say what other things i want you to do to me?”

“enough you need to rest—” he placed his hands on your waist with the intent to pull you back and lay you down to sleep… but he just couldn’t do it, his grip shakily tightening instead.

“what i need…” you slid your hands agonizingly slow up his chest and around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his with hot steamy desperate breaths fanning across each others faces. “is to know what it’s like to have your fingers in my mouth ken…”

“darling please—”

“—i wanna lick all over them—”

he respects you... dear god kento respects you he— he couldn’t possibly indulge in—

“—so i can show you how good i can suck and choke on your cock—”

kento mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and swallowed your lips up, you letting out a little squeak of surprise as his other unoccupied arm locked around your waist and pulled you flush against him, him hungrily kissing you and gulping down your humming moans of satisfaction as you hurriedly swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him.

you disconnected from his lips and pulled back, taking his hand and bringing it up to your mouth as you pushed him down on the mattress with your unoccupied one, kento looking up at you so hot and bothered and astonished as you hovered over him, plump precious lips wrapping around his index and ring finger and sensually sliding it deeper and deeper in your mouth across your wet tongue.

“jesus sweetheart…” he breathed out, eyes entirely transfixed on the way your lips closed around his fingers entirely and sucked, your head pumping slowly and you delighted over how hard he felt underneath his slacks over something as just you sucking on his fingers.

“m’gonna suck your dick.” you spoke with a mouthful of his digits, and he sat up a little.

“my darling you don’t— you don’t have to do that it’s alright—”

you slid his fingers out of your mouth and pouted. “but i want to… unless you don’t want me to? or do you prefer someone else to do it—”

“what? stop that.” he shook his head, reaching up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear as you snickered, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. “i’m just worried about keeping you up… you have to get ready in a couple of hours.”

you shrugged, giving him a little grin.

“if it’s you and your big dick keeping me up i could care less.”

you swung your thighs off of his lap and stood momentarily, dropping down to your knees and positioning yourself in between his legs— kento’s rounded eyes and shaky breaths making you laugh a little as you reached for the buckle of his belt, tugging the clasp open and him helping you in slipping it off before reaching in his pants, a trembling but needy hand pulling out his thick cock and slowly pumping it.

kento would’ve never thought you’d be kneeling in between his legs and about to do something he’d only fleetingly thought of, the sinful images quickly grabbed by him before he could materialize them in his head any further and tossed in the trash without looking back, embarrassed and awkwardly flustered that he’d thought of such a thing when you were usually just sitting there on your vanity desk dolling yourself up, or simply speaking to him.

he would’ve never thought that the questions of being something more to you than just your bodyguard, would actually actualize itself, your pretty lips beginning to wrap around the tip of his cock and all he can think about is you and how many days he spent yearning for you, confusing it for uncertainty, and lying to himself before giving in to the fact that he did love you. 

and very much so.

to kento, it was a privilege to undergo this intimate experience given by gracious you, and he only wished he didn’t push it away for so many years and dismissed your obvious attempts.

for what was happening now, was heavenly compared to the fleeting thoughts he had tossed in the trash prior… and your pace was rapid, your deprived little mouth that had begged for him time and time again slurping the ever living soul out of him as he clenched his jaw to keep his moans in, afraid of your father or any of the other housekeeping staff hearing what was filthily happening inside your bedroom— his face crossed over in pleasurable shock at how messy and drooly you were all over his dick without even allowing yourself the chance to breathe as you sucked. 

“honey—” he heaved, swallowing hard as he gathered your hair up into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face. “s—slow down or you’ll choke—”

you didn’t listen, your thighs clenching together to ease yourself a little as you sunk your mouth down and gagged, the tip of his cock lodged in the back of your throat so deliciously that he let out a string of rare curses from his lips.

you slurped back up and pulled off of his length with a pop, you sticking your tongue out and smiling too as you tapped his girthy dick on your tongue teasingly.

“but i want to choke ken…” you placed an open mouthed slutty kiss on the side. “and i’d like you to fuck my mouth too please—”

“shit—” he cleared his throat, his balls feeling awfully full and heavy as you parted your lips and took him in again. “but i could potentially harm you—”

you pulled off again. “kento i don’t care just use me or i’ll make you—”

he quickly gathered your soft hair again, leaned back on an elbow and shoved you back down, bucking his hips up and hitting your uvula so hard that you choked, eyes immediately watering and you moaning as he continued to buck his hips up and force you down, sloshing gurgling noises from you fueling his every being with ecstasy, throwing his head back and eyelids fluttering closed.

“you have such a dirty mouth sweetheart…” he grunted. “where did you learn that from? huh?”

you tried to respond, his relentless hip thrusting and filling your mouth up preventing you from getting anything out besides choking noises and spit, kento picking his head back up and looking at you with half lidded eyes.

“i hope you’re not speaking to other little dumb boys with it and teasing them the way you tease me…”

you tried to shake your head no and get it across that you absolutely were not— that you were physically repulsed by any other man making moves on you in your life because they were never him… but his big cock stuffing your throat was drowning out your every attempt so good that you couldn’t.

“no?” a little dazed smile played at his lips, his abdomen tightening and signifying that he was about to blow his entire pent up load in your mouth. “good honey… i don’t want you wasting your time.”

he bucked his hips up faster and forced your head down deeper, his panting and low grumbling moans making you fucking wild as you tried your best to take all of him and suck him, tears from how many times you gagged and choked trickling down your cheeks and you not giving a single fuck and pushing through, noticing that kento’s increased fidgeting and gasping was a signal that he was probably close.

and when you felt him loosen his grip on your hair, gently trying to pry you off so that he could cum somewhere else and not in your throat like the little gentlemen that he was, you slipped your mouth down again and held yourself firm, lips pumping up and down as you jerked him alongside, kento running a hand down the side of his cheek with eyes screwed tightly shut.

“darling i feel—” he quickly sat up, his expensive watch glistening against the moonlight as his hand fell over his heart. “i feel my release let me—”

he pushed at your shoulders gently and you refused, continuing to suck him off and drive him to the edge until a low gutting groan left his lips, you squeaking as he suddenly went feral and pushed the back of your head down and filled your throat up with his cum, sputtering and swallowing down as much as you could while he held you there.

“christ i’m sorry—” he let you go and you came off of him, gasping for air and with a mix of cum and drool seeping down your chin as you fell back on your ass, your chest moving erratically as you tried to catch your breath.

kento immediately stuffed his dick back in his pants and zipped it up, standing and placing his hands on your waist as he easily picked you up off the floor and sat you down next to him on the bed, concerned tumblings over your well being falling from his mouth as he moved your disheveled hair away from your face.

“honey i can’t tell you how sorry i am…” he dug into his blazer for his handkerchief, your tongue lapping up the excess drool and cum from your chin as his cheeks went red over you doing that, quickly stepping in and wiping off the rest for you.

“sorry for what ken?” you hummed, your voice a little hoarse and making kento feel guiltier as he sighed, placing the handkerchief down on your nightstand. 

“for abusing your throat y/n…” he spoke gently, ushering you to bed again as he pulled back the covers. “i wasn’t letting you breathe—”

“but i liked it.” you countered softly, crawling to your pillow and planting a tender little kiss to his cheek on your way, settling under the covers. “i asked you to use me baby… and you did just that! good job!”

kento playfully rolled his eyes and brought your blankets up to your chest. 

“yes but i could’ve done it in a better way.”

“in a better way likeee…?” you grinned cheekily. “like sex? well then you should’ve just asked ken i can take off my—”

you sat up and began unbuttoning your top, kento’s hands shooting out and stopping you midway as he flusteredly buttoned it back up, you laughing.

“please sweetheart you need to rest… it’s nearly six in the morning.” 

you groaned and plopped back down on your pillow. “just tell the monroe’s i’m sick. i’d rather be getting dicked down by you than drinking tea with them—”

“alright okay okay—” he brought the covers back up over you with an amused shy smile. “we’ll talk more about it tomorrow. at the monroe’s.”

you huffed and turned your back to him, kento chuckling before leaning over and placing a delicate lingering kiss on your temple, a slow sleepy smile crossing your face as you relished in the fact that he actually loved you… your fear of him seeing you as nothing more than just a spoiled brat quickly dissipating from the second he uttered his bashful but yet authentic confession to you.

you had been living in absolute worry and defiance and frustrating yourself when that wasn’t necessary at all— kento was just a gentlemen, a man, and his apprehensions for indulging in something more between the two of you were very real and valid and you understood… but you also didn’t care, your stubborn unruly (and spoiled…) personality and mind wanting nothing more than just kento.

and as long as you had him by your side, you didn’t care about anything else.

even when you had only gotten a total of a solid two hours of sleep before you had to wake up for brunch with the monroe’s, you didn’t care about that either, because kento was the one to wake you up with a soft hand down your back and gentle murmurs that slowly eased you awake, him delivering you a warm cup of hot chocolate for the morning because he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of coffee, and the brunch itself not seeming so bad too since you knew he would be there with you through the entire thing.

your newest biggest fear now though… was what your father would say once you told him. 

“are these alright for your hair miss y/n?”

you stopped applying your eyeshadow for a moment and turned your body from your bench seat, a tray of cute shiny pearled up bobby pins that you had requested a week prior sitting neat and ready for you, you looking up and smiling sweetly at your housekeeping staff.

“oh yes! these are beautiful thank you!”

she nodded. “do you need help putting these in? or are you okay?”

“i’m okay! if anything i’ll just ask kento hehe.”

she laughed softly, nodding again before placing the little tray down next to you on your vanity desk and turning to leave, passing by none other than kento on her way as he peaked through your door, giving your housekeeping staff a polite smile and allowing her to pass through first, making his way inside your bedroom once she left.

a cup of misty tea was carefully placed next to you on your desk, and you moved your eyeshadow brush away from your face again to see kento looking down at you with a kind grin, you instantly brightening up and scooching down on your seat to give him a little room to sit with you.

“you didn’t have to bring me this ken you gave me hot chocolate this morning!”

your voice was still a bit hoarse, and that’s precisely why he brought you hot tea to begin with, sighing softly through his nose as he sat down on the other side of your bench next to you.

“it’s for your throat honey.” you continued to buff out your eyeshadow, putting your brush away upon finishing and reaching up to fiddle with your bun, taking a few strands out for a more candid look. “how do you feel?”

“horny.”

kento went into a coughing fit and you laughed, his reactions to your ludicrousy always being a favorite of yours as you pecked his cheek in apology.

“sorry sorry—” you wiped the gloss you got on him off of his chiseled cheek, picking up your little tea cup after and taking a sip. “i mean it’s true i want your dick inside of me but—”

“darling.”

“okay!” you set your tea cup down, grumpily took some of your pearl bobby pins from the tray and started sticking them in your hair. “just say you don’t want to have sex with me it’s fine—”

“that is not what i’m saying whatsoever—”

“you refused to have sex with me last night and you’re doing it again right now mph!—”

he clasped a big hand over your mouth and pulled your head in, bringing his lips to your ear.

“there is nothing more i want than to be inside of you and split your warm little cunt open.”

your eyes blew out in shock.

“so enough or you won’t get anything.”

he turned your head to make you look at him directly.

“understood?”

you quickly nodded and he lowered his hand, grabbing one of yours and kissing the back of it before standing and walking to the door.

“your father wants you in the car with me in twenty minutes sweetheart. i’ll wait for you there.”

you watched him click the door shut behind him and you spun your head back around to face the mirror, shakily moving some strands away and quickly fanning yourself in attempts at calming the fuck down, completely thrown off course on what you were supposed to do next in your routine as you couldn’t even remember what you had just done.

because kento had a secret feral mouth that you had no idea of until now…

and you wanted to hear it again.

eventually you gathered yourself up and finished putting the rest of your bobby pin pearls in your hair, shuffling around in your room looking for your chiffon scarf and breathing out a sigh of relief once you caught sight of its pastel yellow fabric, it matching your summery dress and peeking from your bed as you snatched it and looped it around your upper arms, the fabric falling gracefully in a low curve behind you as you grabbed your clutch and made your way out the door.

you didn’t know what energy to exactly expect from the car ride as you trotted down your staircase and out to his car, but you were nonetheless still surprised to see that kento carried on like he didn’t just mutter in your ear that he wanted to rearrange your guts and for you to behave, you blinking at him and perplexed when he just went on about what things to pay attention to that the girls say because he knew your father would ask you about that certain topic later, not wanting you to get in trouble and an earful if you weren’t able to answer his questions about it.

and you were still perplexed upon arriving at the monroe’s estate— their place of living the only thing you really liked about the yearly brunches, as they lived in what looked like a fucking english regency palace instead of the plain modernized mansions you were accustomed to (including yours…), and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous each year of the wonderful labyrinth the monroe’s had, an endless place of history and poise that your own home very much lacked.

but as beautiful as their estate was, it still didn’t make up for the absolute bitches that lived in it.

“ken if you turn this car around right now i will do absolutely anything you say and not go to any parties for two months instead of just one—”

he chuckled loudly and shook his head, rounding their grand water fountain that sat extravagantly in the center of their lawn outside, other sleek cars already parked in the front. 

“it’s just for a couple of hours honey.” he parked the car and turned off the ignition, unbuckling his seatbelt. “just indulge in their conversations for a while… and listen please. your father will ask about it later.”

kento shut the door as you unbuckled your seatbelt, him opening yours on the other side while offering a hand out for you to take, you gratefully doing so with a stoic dead look on your face as you kept your eyes locked to the grabble below.

“they don’t even like me.” you muttered, flashing a polite smile to the housekeeping staff that was waiting up ahead, walking up the steps. “the monroe’s and their girl friends don’t even like each other they’re all just a bunch of fake—”

“y/n!”

both of your heads shot up just as you entered the estate, the eldest of the monroe sisters trodding up to you with a smile.

“it’s good to see you!” her eyes shifted to kento. “and with nanami. of course.”

bitch.

“mhm! yup!” you exchanged polite hugs and stepped back. “are the rest of the girls here?”

“yes they just got here actually! they’re all out in the garden with my sisters i was just heading there now!”

“great! i’ll see myself then, you go on ahead.” you tightly smiled, and she shrugged, bidding you a ‘see you later’ before disappearing off into the depths of her home, you slowly turning around with a stressed out twitch in your eye but faltering when kento wasn’t behind you like you thought he was.

you spun around as your tried to look for him, gaze scanning the area to find him and stopping once you did, your brows furrowing in confusion upon seeing him at the other side of the corridor staring at something.

you slowly began walking down, eyes locked on what he was looking at and it making you stop in your tracks next to him once you got close enough to see.

the wall in front of you was littered with wedding photos of the monroe sisters parents and the generations before— the ceremony, cake cutting, pictures of their first dance, and singular portraits of various brides and grooms on their wedding days scattered about with smiles on their faces, all things kento was just staring at without any indication in his expression that could let you know as to what was going on in his head.

“ken?” you asked softly, and he looked to you.

“oh i’m sorry.” he glanced at his watch. “are you ready to head out into the garden?”

“y—yeah…” your eyes switched back to the wall ahead.

“you were looking at their wedding photos?” you smiled. “they’re cute huh? i look at them too every time we come.”

he nodded, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you away from the wall and towards the garden again. 

“i was only curious.” he spoke. “there’s an awful large amount of them.”

you snorted in agreement and continued walking, feeling like there was something he was thinking about and not telling you— you looking to the garden entrance ahead then deciding to take a peek at kento again through the corner of your eye, you suddenly finding him looking over his shoulder at the portraits still.

and your eyes softened.

you slowed down and reached up, gently turning his head from the portraits to you.

“what’s wrong ken?” you looked over at the wall and back to him. “why do you keep looking at the pictures?”

“oh— i didn’t realize.” he readjusted his yellow lensed sunglasses and continued ushering you on with a hand on your back. 

you frowned.

“ken you wouldn’t look at something for that long without any reasoning behind it…”

“it’s truly nothing.” he responded simply, the both of you entering the garden now and drawing nearer to the long table set up amidst a bed of roses and daisies, the rest of the girls beginning to take their seats. “enjoy your brunch darling.”

“no! but—”

“it’s alright go say hello—”

“i’d rather actually rot—”

“hello y/n!”

you stopped fidgeting and dropped your arms, another tight smile on your face as you greeted the youngest monroe sister from the table, deciding to ignore kento’s chuckling from behind you and walk up, taking a seat with the rest of them and looking over the extravagantly set up table for anything to stuff your face with— it filled with little pastries and appetizers from top to bottom, a pretty strawberry shortcake cake in the middle surrounded by a tier of cupcakes and scones, little baked sandwich platters, and a porcelain tea cup set at each of your designated seats to enjoy.

you lightened up a little over all of the cute details and selections, forgetting that the monroe’s always knew how to put on a lovely brunch for all of you every year as you extended an arm, grabbing the nearest tea pot and carefully pouring the steaming liquid in your cup.

“girls! just the other day my father bought me another set of those diamond jewels from the franziska’s!”

that’s why you’d always forget.

the rest of them gushed and looked around the table to the eldest monroe, her neck clad in a pretty diamond necklace with matching earrings and rings.

“i know right? i had lost my previous set while swimming in the lake and my staff couldn’t find them.”

“oh that happened to me once.” one of their girlfriends piped up. “it was an exclusive emerald set from europe… only one in the entire world made!”

the rest of the girls gasped and murmured.

“i had my staff looking in the lake all day and night for three days until one of them finally found it!”

“oh thank god!” the middle monroe sister breathed out. “i would’ve absolutely hated to lose those! especially since they’re a one of a kind!”

“mhm yup! and you know what else actually? just the other day i found out francis— you know the girl from the faltis family?”

the girls faces turned knowing and they eagerly nodded.

“i found out she was asking up and down various jewelry shops and makers for my emerald set!”

they all gasped.

“you’re kidding!”

“no! the girl either wanted to copy me or make the same exact set to still copy me.”

“oh! that sleazy—”

you completely tuned them out beyond this point, your brain literally pulsing with the stupidest shit you had ever come across to hearing in your life, choosing to sit there and enjoy the weather and pretty cherry blossoms around you as you ate a cranberry scone and thought about the things you wanted to do for the weekend.

it’s not like you were a total opposite from the rest of the girls.

you too liked jewels and pretty things, luxury branded vehicles and a little bit of gossip here and there.

but it was the way they talked about it and handled each thing was what aggravated you the most.

they were ungrateful, greedy, and bitchy— no other girl that was a loose connection from them allowed to have the same jewelry set as theirs, the same set of friends as theirs, or the same set of dresses for your monthly bashes and dinner parties as theirs, turning utterly nasty if they so even got a glance of someone else having the same thing as them.

all things that were pointless and unrighteous to be upset about.

and just for the sake of keeping your father from putting your head on a stick, you remained civil with them and refrained from wearing anything similar to theirs at an event if you knew they would be in attendance.

but it was easy, for your taste was completely different than the lot of them, and you preferred pearls anyway over any kind of diamond or emerald or sapphire jewel piece.

“oh! and you know what i heard?” another girl friend spoke up. “akio from the corvus family has a little crush on miss y/n over there!”

kento’s ears perked up.

you jumped upon hearing your name, the rest of the girls gushing and ‘ooing’ as they turned their attention to you.

“i’m sorry what? who?”

“akio!” she laughed. “that man is obsessed with you! he asks for you at every single gathering.”

akio? 

akio… akio…

“the one that looks like a toad?”

the girls laughed at your comment, covering their mouths or learning forward as you just blinked at them, unaware of how what you said was so funny.

“oh you’re too much!” the youngest monroe waved you off. “yes him! any time he sees any of us at an event he always asks if you’re there with us.”

“you know what yes!” the eldest exclaimed. “i heard he wanted to strike up a proposal with your father! i think he already did!”

you dropped the cupcake you were holding.

and kento froze.

“a— a— propo—”

“oh my god congratulations y/n!”

“lucky you!”

“oh a bride already!—”

you turned in your seat to look at kento, but he was looking the other way, an unreadable expression on his face.

you turned back to the girls.

“is this a rumor or it’s actually happening?” you asked. “i don’t want to get married to him!”

they laughed again.

“why not?! yes he’s ugly but that man is loaded. has money to last him and you entirely without having to work a day in your lives!”

your blood ran cold, because anything you knew that was ordered by your father, was bible.

a housekeeping kitchen staff came around then and refilled a few platters of pastries and appetizers.

“ahh you’re so fortunate y/n!” one of the girl friends gushed. “i’d love to be wed to a man with money like akio… i could care less what he looks like!”

“you can have him.” you quickly sputtered, and they laughed again. “no seriously i don’t want him take him please—”

“oh don’t be silly!” the youngest monroe sister waved you off. “akio wants you. he’s kind of creepy about it too.”

“why me?!” you whined. “i’ve only spoken to him a handful of times—”

“why don’t you ask him at the dinner party you’re hosting next week? i’m pretty sure he’s going!” another girl friend spoke up. “i have a feeling he’s gonna propose to you there.”

you propped your elbow up on the table and placed a hand on your forehead in misery, feeling like you were living in a total nightmare.

“i’d honestly rather go broke.”

they all burst out laughing again.

what the hell was so funny?

“you’re too much!” the middle monroe sister gasped. “just give him a chance! once you see all the things he can buy for you, you’ll change your mind. plus… i think it’d be nice to have a break from mr. nanami don’t you think?”

you picked your head up.

“…kento?”

“uh huh!” the eldest continued. “god that must be exhausting having him around watching over you like that… it’s like he’s babysitting you. must be tiresome for him too.”

babysitting?

“with you and akio’s marriage i’m sure he’ll dismiss nanami’s services, and you can go your separate ways finally!”

“but—”

“and mr. nanami sure is handsome too.” another girl piped up with a hushed voice. “he’ll find a rich girl to settle down with in no time—”

“oh that’d be so great!—”

you abruptly stood, the silverware and tea cups clattering as you did so, the rest of them falling silent.

“sorry. excuse me.” you mumbled, eyes casted downward as you moved around your chair and off to the side, the girls shrugging and uncaring as they proceeded to babble on about other nonsense as you walked ahead, further and further away from the table and the chattering and through the garden, passing by several other flower beds of orchards and sunflowers until you reached the little duck pond by the end of the garden.

you stopped and sighed, bitterly crossing your arms and damning your father for ever discussing something as serious as marriage without your consent, marrying you off basically, or even lacking giving you a god damn warning before you came to brunch today— you and your father both knowing how much of a blabber mouth all of the girls were and how much they fed off of gossip like that.

you felt like a fucking idiot.

and who the hell was akio exactly? you knew of him and kind of had an idea of what he looked like, but you never really paid attention whenever he came up to talk to you at events or parties, his face almost entirely blurry in your mind besides the obvious features he had that did in fact make him look like a damn toad.

and another thing that was obvious too, was how creepy he was.

the only thing the monroe’s shit talking got right.

“honey?”

you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“hi ken.”

the rustling of grass filled the otherwise peaceful ambience as he stepped beside you, the both of you looking out ahead over the sparkling duck pond.

“are you alright?”

you nodded.

“i know you’re not alright i can see it.” he readjusted his lenses. “i’m assuming it has to do with the information the monroe’s told you?”

“i’m being married off ken.” you mumbled, eyes switching to him. “how are you so calm about this?”

“oh i’m not.” he spoke simply. “i’m quite agitated actually.”

you faltered, eyes falling down.

“i’ve always respected your father ever since we were young. and every choice he made with you i always agreed that it was what was best for you.”

you listened.

“but i can’t—” he paused. “… i can’t see how this is best for you. and i don’t know if it’s because i love you and i’m being selfish or if it actually is what’s best for you… so my thinking is— adhered.”

“how can marrying me off like the fucking renaissance period be what’s best for me?” you muttered, and he chuckled softly.

“and i love you, kento.” you continued. “my thinking’s also messed up.”

he placed a hand on your lower back and gently nudged you to him, you complying and falling into his side, wrapping your arms around him.

“it’s your choice y/n.” he spoke softly. “i know akio isn’t… the greatest. but he’s qualified to be your husband.”

your eyes widened.

“what are you saying? what about— what about you?”

he looked down, a sad smile on his face.

“i’ll stay for as long as you need me sweetheart.”

the ducks fluttering wings from the pond ahead filled the silence, tranquil splashes of water that followed after their every move with little quacks and hoots.

“so you’re just gonna give me away.” you mumbled. “just like that. easy peasy. who cares—”

“no—”

“i want you to be my husband ken.”

he gave you a deadpanned look.

“darling don’t joke about things like that—”

“oh i’m not joking.” you separated from him, frustration swirling in your chest. “why is it always considered a joke to you when i talk about being with you?”

he paused, sighing a little through his nose.

“i feel incredibly lucky that a woman like you could envision a life with me.” he spoke. “but i’m also aware that i’m very… boring. i’d feel it wrong to tie you down to a life without excitement like the one you live now.”

kento slipped an arm around your waist and brought you back in again.

“akio seems to be more like you… maybe you could learn to get along.”

your lip began to wobble, and kento’s eyes softened. 

“sweethea—”

“i don’t care about any of that stuff.” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “you of all people should know this—”

“don’t cry please you’ll ruin your hard work—”

kento dug into his blazer and pulled out a little handkerchief, carefully patting down your face.

“yes i like to go out a lot but so what? it’s not something that’s a part of me it’s just something i like to do.”

you took the handkerchief from him and pressed it into the corner of your eye. 

“you’re a part of me ken… and i want a life with you, i’ve known since i was freaking sixteen. i don’t need it spelled out for me.”

kento swallowed.

he’d always admired how stubborn you were, because to him it meant a strong mind and an ambitious drive in contrast to the negative connotation that that word seemed to have— things that were absolutely who you were and why he fell in love with you in the first place, and why you were such a gem.

but he worried still that you’d regret it and change your mind.

that he wouldn’t be able to live up to your lifestyle and your wants and needs, and that you’d get bored of him… leaving in the end.

kento doesn’t think he could bare the thought of you leaving him, much like how he couldn’t bare the thought of you marrying akio either.

but if it meant what was best for you, then so be it… except it wasn’t. 

he was sure of it.

“you’re a part of me as well.” he murmured. “i’m sure you know that—”

“i don’t.” you grumbled, and he chuckled. “you’re always switching up on me with your rejections and then your confessions i’m confused—”

kento silenced you with a kiss to your lips, his big hands on either sides of your face as your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into his built frame, your arms snaking around his neck and his bringing you closer by the waist as you tenderly deepened the kiss— soft lips smacking and moving with such love that it almost made you cry again.

“i’m sorry.” he pulled back, whispering against your lips. “it’s completely unfair to you—”

“s’okay ken.” you whispered back, the cutest smile he had even seen in his life on your face. “i’ll forgive you if you keep kissing me.”

“deal.”

your lips mushed up against each others once more, kento breathing you in and relishing in the feeling of your body pressed up against his, his hands slowly roaming around from your waist to your sides— still trying to be respectful of his hand placement until you took one of them and lowered it to your ass cheek with a squeeze, him laughing against your lips.

you were so silly.

silly and bright and spontaneous and beautiful, today another reminder from countless others with your frilly pastel yellow sundress and the pearls in your hair, your entity different from the rest of the women he’d come to know and thankful that he was lucky enough to have grown with you.

to have protected you. 

and the both of you were relieved to see that the monroe sisters and their girl friends didn’t seem to care where you two had ventured off to, for you didn’t know how long you were gone either as you approached the table again— the dessert piles, scones, and strawberry shortcake cake nearly nonexistent, you taking a seat again and secretly reapplying your lipgloss since kento had basically sucked it off of your face, your cheeks pinky and the butterflies in your stomach running rampant.

you were glad then that the monroe’s and their minions were such dim witted bitches too, because their level of self-absorption inhibited them from knowing or picking up on any clues of what could have transpired between you and kento in the garden, them immediately going to you upon arrival and chatting up a storm about mindless things again like you had never left the table to begin with.

but all you could think about was what you were going to tell you father about akio.

and you didn’t want to think about it honestly… because you knew there was a strong chance of you getting literally violent and landing yourself in deeper shit with him than ever before.

that didn’t matter either though if it meant being with kento… and for real this time. the thought of simply just him giving you the push that you needed to trudge up your grand staircase once you got home from brunch, kento trailing behind you and pleading with you to take a little breather before going in to speak with your father, but you absolutely done over the situation seeing as he only ever saw you as a thing and not his daughter if he was willing to marry you off like that.

“my love please relax—”

you stopped in front of your fathers study and knocked curtly, ignoring kento’s words.

“come in.”

you pushed down the handle and walked through, kento following close behind you and clicking the door closed as you stepped to the front of your fathers desk, your arms crossed.

“ah y/n. nanami.” he looked up from his documents, eyes switching between the two of you. “how was brunch with the monroe’s?”

“good.” you replied.

“was the food selection still as grandiose as always?” he looked back down at his paperwork.

“mhm.” you crossed your arms. “they had strawberry shortcake cake this year.”

he hummed. “the monroe’s always know how to put on a good event don’t they? for their daughters? and how are they by the w—”

“they’re fine.” you cut him off sharply. “but you know what isn’t fine?”

he eyed you.

“what?”

“that you’re marrying me off to akio—”

he sighed loudly and placed his documents flat on his desk, leaning forward and wringing his hands together to rest on the surface.

“he’s a good prospect.” he began. “he came up to me with some very impressive ideas about the future of my business, and also how much he was interested in you.”

you scoffed. “so this is what the arrangement is about? your business?”

“i thought you would be happy about this?” he extended his hands out lazily. “akio comes from a wealthy background. you’ll be taken care of in whatever you need and he’s qualified to take over my business once the time comes—”

hurt flashed across your face.

“why would you consider akio taking over your business and not your daughter?”

he laughed humorously, shuffling some papers about mindlessly on his desk.

“y/n you can’t possibly think that i’d consider you to take leadership over my business.”

“and why the hell not?”

his eyes narrowed.

“because you’re incompetent.” he spoke harshly. “you don’t know the meaning of responsibility, you’re stubborn, you’re spoiled, and all that you concern yourself with is parties and outings. you think i would allow you anywhere near my business?”

with each insult and jab that was thrown in your face, the blurrier and blurrier your vision got, you desperately trying to blink your tears back and put on a brave front, but finding it difficult when it was your own father that was dumbing you down to nothing.

“you’re not ready for anything like this and i don’t think you will ever be.” he stood up from his chair. “i’m thinking of what’s good for you and you’re being ungrateful yet again with your complaints—”

“sir with all due respect please try to see where she’s coming from.” kento interjected. “i’m sure she has the future of your business in her best interests, but marrying her off to someone she doesn’t know very well is upsetting her—”

“she’s never had any interest in the state of my business son you and i both know that—”

“sir she’s an extremely capable woman and independent i assure you her contribution to the business would serve prosperity—”

your father scoffed. “there is no prosperity with her. all she brings is disorder and foolery and i appreciate you trying to vouch for her but—”

“please if you’d just give her a chance—”

“i’d give you more of a chance over her—”

“then give the company to kento!” you yelled, the both of them snapping their heads to you and kento’s eyes widening. “i could care less what you think of me everything you told me isn’t new fucking information—”

“young lady language—”

“—i’m not here to try and convince you to give me the business that’s not what i’m here for.” you spat. “but don’t you dare stand there and say that i’ve never cared about the state of it when that’s bullshit.”

kento placed a hand on your shoulder and you shook it off.

“give the company to kento.” you repeated firmly. “if you give it to akio he’ll run your business to the ground and you know that.”

“and how would you know he isn’t qualified—”

“are you kidding?” you shook your head incredulously. “akio is a little dumb boy who goes to his daddy for help any chance he gets because he can’t do anything for himself. he puts on a show about how he’s this mature experienced man when he’s nothing but a joke.”

“i thought you said you barely knew him?” your father asked. “where is this information coming from?”

“the monroe sisters.” you spat. “they’re blabbermouths and their opinions are garbage, but their gossip is always truthful.”

it’s how you found out about the arranged proposal after all.

“i’m stubborn, i’m spoiled, i’m too stupid to handle anything for myself i’m helpless— fine. whatever you say but him?—”

you pointed to kento.

“he’s the most qualified for this position and you and i both know that.”

“y/n no—” kento tried to interject again, but you cut him off.

“he’s seen you handle the business since he was fourteen and knows it inside and out and just as much as you do. any task you’ve ever given him he’s gotten it done and more and i assure you that the business will flourish if you give it to him.”

you stepped forward, your father standing there with a neutral expression.

“believe it or not i care about what you worked so hard for to create, and i care about you, and regardless of what you think of me and the fact that you’ve shown me the complete opposite, it’d kill me to see akio ruin all of it.”

you wiped your cheeks and continued as you turned around, making your way to the other side of your father’s study. 

“kento’s a good man. everything will be in good hands with him.”

you threw open the door and stomped out.

“and i’m not marrying akio!—”

“y/n return at once—”

“sir i advise you to—”

your father and kento’s words drowned out the further down the hallway you got, tears spilling from your eyes now that you were away from it all as your heels hastily clicked against the shiny marble flooring, quiet sobs racking through your body.

you spouting repeatedly how you didn’t care what your father thought about you was a complete lie.

because you very much did care… you always have. and no matter how hard you tried to prove to him that you were capable of more than just parties and brunches and pearls and pretty dresses and shoes and cars, it was never enough. 

you were never enough.

“y/n—”

kento distantly burst out from your father’s study and quickly strode up to you, concern etched all over his face as you shook off your chiffon scarf and chucked it somewhere behind you in frustration. 

“my darling—” kento picked up the long piece of fabric and continued on after you. “my darling i’m so sorry—”

“i need to be alone ken.” you sobbed. “i’m sorry too i just need to be alone—”

“i refuse to leave—”

you slammed your bedroom door shut and kento picked up the pace, his eyes big in alarm at the sound of tumbling and thudding in your room as he stopped in front of your door, swinging it open to reveal you on the other side throwing your heels across the room along with several other pairs and things, your pretty pearls and jewels flying as he stood there in shock.

kento caught sight of you picking up your favorite porcelain flower vase amidst your rage to throw, him quickly stepping in and snatching it from you and fighting your thrashing as he held you to himself.

“kento stop it!—”

he placed the vase safely on your vanity desk and spun you around, his arms grabbing your shoulders tightly as he bent down to your level.

“sweetheart breathe please—” 

he hurriedly snagged off his cream colored blazer and tossed it off to the side, leaving him in his blue button up and suspenders as he rolled up his sleeves and placed his hands back on your shoulders.

“hey— it’s alright.” his hazel eyes frantically darted over every corner of your face, him snatching off his lenses now and tossing them. “it’s alright breathe for me y/n please—”

you could only sob, your mascara stained cheeks and heartbroken expression crumbling and ripping kento to pieces as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup and caress your wet face.

“everything he said was the farthest thing from the truth don’t let it upset you like this—”

“no but he’s right he’s right!” you sobbed. “i’m useless i can’t do shit for myself and i’d probably be off somewhere dead in a ditch if it wasn’t for you—”

“do not say things like that—”

“kento you can’t be with me.”

he faltered. “i’m sorry?”

“you can’t be with me it’s embarrassing to be with me you’re better off with someone who’s capable and responsible like you i just bring you down—”

“stop that i’m serious i won’t ask again—”

“no kento you’re not listening!” you cried, your shoulders violently shaking. “you’re a good man. you’re such a good man and you’re way too good for me and i don’t deserve to be with you you can’t keep babysitting me like this—”

“how could you ever possibly say these things about yourself?” he shook his head. “how could you ever say that you’re too good for me when it’s the other way around?”

your eyes narrowed.

“no it’s not don’t give me that—”

“your father is full of shit.”

your mouth snapped shut.

kento never badmouthed your father no matter what it was, and he also never cussed so forceful and purposeful no matter the situation.

“he’s always been too hard on you and too stoic for reasons that i will never understand nor ever agree with.”

he leaned closer.

“do not upset yourself over the things he said any longer and do not worry about your marriage arrangement with akio.”

“ken—”

“do not think about the pearls you just threw over your balcony do not worry about anything— i will take care of it.”

“i—”

“i love you and i will take care of it.”

you continued to cry, letting your body slump wholly against his as he caught you and held you tight.

“please.. i beg you darling to believe me when i say that you are the most capable woman i know.” he spoke against your ear, his chest aching over your soft sobbing. “you’re witty and you’re intelligent and you’ve come so far simply because of who you are and the way you carry yourself. it’s a shame your father can’t see that.”

“no one can see that—”

“i can see it. everybody else can see it too and i’ve been around you all my life to testify for it.” 

you sniffled, burying your face in his neck.

“believe me my love…” he ran a soothing hand down your back. “you’re everything. you’re an asset. don’t let your father’s words take that away.”

you sniffled a little, standing there silent as your hiccups and sobs settled down gradually, your heart beating prominently against your ribs at kento’s sweet murmurings and affection, because though your fathers actions and decisions were bible, so were kento’s words.

he was a good man.

“thank you.” you mumbled, and he nodded, gently guiding you to your bed to sit.

“i’ll take care of you sweetheart.” he pulled back and placed a soft kiss to your lips. “i promise you.”

you smiled a little, a small warm gleam in your eyes as you sniffed and nodded.

“okay ken.”

words didn’t need to be said between the two of you to know the unconditional love you both had for each other, one that was born and bred and made a fact upon your lives crossing paths through fated connections, and strengthened from the day kento decided to be your bodyguard and protect you with everything that he had.

and words didn’t need to be said between the two of you as you both fell in each other’s soft embraces either, kissing with lingering hands and bated breaths as kento delicately laid you back on your bed after a moment of soft chattering, him making sure you were okay, and scattering hungry open mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck and your body language alone with your needy whines enough of an indicator to him that you needed all of him, just as much as he needed all of you, his calloused hands undressing you and worshipping your bare body and everything that you were.

skin to skin contact that was hot to the touch, your arms that barely reached around his broad built shoulders trembling as kento made love to you that night, foreheads resting against each others as he pumped slowly and intimately in and out from inside you, your gasps catching themselves in your throat and him moaning with every thrust and snap of his hips that sent you down a ditzy fucked out road that you never wanted to back track from.

and kento treated you like a delicate little pearl all while at the same time desperately marking and bruising you up with hickeys and bites, afraid from the start that he would accidentally cross the line and hurt you due to his size, but you reassuring him with your perfect smile and pretty face while whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he filled you full, him swallowing you whole and man handling you so much to the point where he had to have you biting down on his tie to keep you quiet while he fucked you senseless.

everything about it was meaningful and cherished and nothing like you’d ever experienced before in your life— a night you wanted to remember for as long as you lived and prayed that you got to repeat over and over again… with him.

with kento and kento only.

he was the only man capable of simmering down your tears and making you feel so much better about a situation as horrid as the one that transpired, and he was the only man that was capable of getting you to listen when you didn’t want to, an incredible talent in itself that spoke volumes in how much of a gentle and kind and reliable person he was… and you only hoped that you provided him with things of the same caliber.

and the thought of that only amplified upon you waking up to find that kento wasn’t next to you in your bed the next morning… when you clearly remembered falling asleep in his big arms the night before.

you slowly sat up, one tired eye peeking over at the vacant spot next you and around the room, finding nothing and honestly feeling a little down about his disappearance as you groggily got out of bed.

maybe he went to eat breakfast? or get a cup of coffee?

you continued on anyways with your morning and freshened up for the day, your legs nearly giving out and sore in the shower due to the pounding he gave you— skin tender and purple under the running water and you loving every mark, shrugging and getting ready quicker than normal so you could finally see kento downstairs to share a little smooch or two with him.

you zoomed through styling your hair and doing your makeup before spritzing a bit of perfume, not bothering to locate your phone before you opened the door to your bedroom and stepped out, bidding your usual good mornings to your housekeeping staff as you skipped down the grand staircase and over to the kitchen, a place he was usually at if not already with you in your room.

but he wasn’t there.

and you frowned.

where was he?

you spent a total of thirty minutes looking for kento— practically turning your mansion upside down and even sticking your head in rooms you had never stepped foot in before, your mind fucking confused and worried that you couldn’t locate him anywhere and that your staff didn’t even know where he was when you asked, for him doing something like this was completely unheard of.

upon going back upstairs, you speedily walked past your fathers study and stopped.

could he be in there…?

but your father was for sure in there, and you couldn’t stand the thought of speaking or even looking at him at the moment without fury clouding your judgement again.

but kento could be in there…

you took a deep breath and walked back to your fathers door, hesitantly knocking gently.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open and stepped in, closing it behind you before turning around and shoulders slumping when you didn’t spot him in here either.

dammit.

“good morning.” your father spoke. “what can i do for you? it’s rather early for you to be stopping by.”

“oh yeah sorry i just—” you played with the ends of your hair. “i was just looking for kento… i thought he might’ve been in here.”

he shook his head.

“he’s not. he left.”

you froze.

“he— what?”

“he left.” you father repeated. “nanami stepped down from the position of being your bodyguard earlier today. he left a couple of hours ago.”

what the fuck?

“i don’t—” you tightly gripped the table next to you, balancing yourself. “i don’t understand—”

“you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard within the next coming week—”

“did he say why?” you breathed out. “did he say anything at all?”

your fathers eyes scanned you.

“amongst various other things, he said he simply couldn’t fulfill that position anymore.”

“did you fire him?!”

he scoffed. “don’t be ridiculous y/n i would never do something like that to nanami. i tried to get him to reconsider.”

holy fucking shit.

kento quit? kento left? kento left you?

it didn’t make any sense. nothing about it made sense to you this— this wasn’t like him at all—

“like i said you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard soon i just need to finalize nanami’s paperwork—”

you swung open the door and ran out, your eyes already filling with tears as you pushed through your housekeeping staff and ignored their beckoning and calls, you bursting through your room and throwing everything around to try and find your phone through your heaving and panic.

why did he leave you? was it something you did?

did he finally realize you were nothing but a useless spoiled girl?

you hurriedly wiped your eyes and kept looking, transitioning from your bed over to your vanity desk and knocking over everything to try and find your stupid phone to call him, some of your expensive bottle of perfumes clattering and spilling and you not giving a rats ass about it as your tears increased in intensity, about to run out of your room and get in your car to literally drive around your fucking city to look for him until you snapped your head up.

a small yellow sticky note sat stuck to your mirror. 

you stopped, dropping the items you were holding and stepping closer— pulling the note from its position and bringing it in.

i’ll be in the garden waiting for you when you wake up.

kento.

you hiccuped and wiped your eyes again, kicking the clothes you had thrown about in search for your phone (that you still couldn’t find) as you hurriedly left your room and trudged down the hall, confusion and hurt suffocating your head over the information you had just learned about him and his leave, you reaching the bottom of your staircase and rounding through various hallways and lounge areas to get to the entry way of your little garden, one that wasn’t exaggeratingly massive like the monroe’s, but one that was a great size and that you loved with everything in you— various flowers and herbs planted by yours truly as you periodically took care of them from time to time.

and sure enough, as promised, kento was standing at the end of your garden, his back turned to you as he overlooked the acres of land your father owned that stretched beyond the premises of your rosey labyrinth, him dressed in a casual yet dressy tight long sleeve sweater and dress pants— a sight you weren’t used to seeing at all as you always saw him in a full blown suit everyday without fail.

kento heard the soft rustling of grass and he slightly turned, a soft smile stretching across his chiseled face until he caught sight of your tear stained cheeks and pissed off expression, his face dropping and brows pinching.

“honey what’s wrong?” he walked over to you and you glared. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“you quit.” you muttered, already annoyingly feeling your waterworks trigger again. “my father said you gave up your bodyguard position.”

“oh.” his shoulders relaxed, and his nonchalance only further pissed you off. “i did my love yes—”

“why.” you pushed. “why are you leaving i don’t— i don’t get it did i do something wrong? i—”

“what?” he shook his head and took your hands in his. “no dear god no you didn’t do anything.”

“then why are you leaving?” you sniffed, and kento wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“i told your father i love you.”

you stiffened.

“he wasn’t very pleased.” he continued. “i figured he wouldn’t be… but he didn’t make me step down from my position darling, i chose to do that.”

you blinked confusedly.

“but why?”

“i don’t want to be paid for something that i was born to do as your man.” he smiled warmly. “it didn’t feel right to me… and i don’t want to be labeled as that anymore either.”

he wiped away your remaining tears.

“i want to only be known as yours now. not your bodyguard or anything else in between.”

you were left speechless, unmoving and rigid at everything he was saying.

“however… your father did make me choose between you and the business.”

your brows furrowed, taken aback.

“the— the business?—”

kento nodded, a content smile still on his face.

“he was impressed by what you said yesterday sweetheart.” 

you scoffed. “what that his words were bullshit and that he doesn’t care about me—”

he laughed, little crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head.

“he was satisfied to see that you weren’t angry about not getting the company for yourself, but because he was going to give it away to someone who wasn’t qualified to maintain it.” 

you pursed your lips.

“he was offering it to me in exchange for letting you go. i refused immediately.”

your eyes shot up.

“kento no i— fuck—” you looked around exasperatedly. “this is your dream! this is everything you’ve ever wanted i feel horrible for taking that away i don’t—”

“sweetheart don’t be stupid.” he chuckled. “i thought i made it clear enough that you’re everything i’ve ever wanted… not some business. i don’t need any of that. just you.”

your eyes softened.

“are you sad at all?”

he shook his head and gently kissed your forehead.

“i’m the happiest i’ve ever been y/n.”

and that was the truest of truths.

kento was truly and incandescently happy, no longer tied down and restrained by his inner monologues of former idiotic confusion, or jugglings of what was best for you and whether you should be with him or not no longer standing in the way either as he finally welcomed the fact that yes— a woman as gracious and lively and stunning as you could indeed love a simple man like him, an absolute privilege and honor to have someone as special as you want a life with him in it that he just couldn’t understand how his feelings were ever considered confusing to start with.

for him thinking of nothing but you and his occupation as your protector and your guide, a job that he saw himself doing beside you until his very dying day, was all simply a mask of him thinking out the rest of his life with you in the form of work.

and it was so clear that he loved you. so much.

how could he not? how could the way he stared at the monroe’s generational wedding portraits and photographs, swapping their faces out with his and yours, and his constant weighings of ‘if she was mine’ and ‘does she actually feel the same way’ from before not already give away enough that he loved you?

but it was even clearer now, with him giving up the opportunity to build and nourish a reputable business like he’d always aspired to do, turning it down without so much as a blink because he wanted you and you only, not feeling an ounce of regret in his body and knowing that he never will.

kento was looking forward to spending the rest of his days with the woman that he’d always envisioned it with— the forbidden heavenly fruit that he had deemed impossible to reach and wrong to even try, him unknowing of the fact that that same glistening fruit sat dangling and waiting as it would only ever let itself be harvested and picked by him… for kento was the one who planted and had been nurturing it for as long as it could remember.

planted it… nurtured it… kept it safe.

kept you safe.

and funnily enough, another individual was also looking forward to seeing your life with kento unfold… your father— curious to see how exactly two opposites became compatible, and when it was that the two of you fell in love as it managed to wholeheartedly slip past his radar completely when most things didn’t.

had he really been this absent in your life?

… though regardless if he was or wasn’t, it was too late to dwell on it now, seeing as you were a grown woman and capable and your father was grateful that you at least had a companion with you through the many days he wasn’t, and an honorable man such as kento— taking care of you and guiding you through every step of your life when he didn’t even need to be asked, his willingness to do it and overlooking your reckless habits reading numbers to your father.

and even more so now as he leaned against his studies stone balcony ledge from above, it overlooking the entirety of your garden plus the acres of land he owned during the annual dinner party he put on for the business, kento sitting peacefully on a lawn chair with you in his lap while drinking glasses of sparkling champagne, soft echoing laughs and giggles heard from below as you enjoyed each others company away from the bustling crowds and nosy relatives.

it was a pleasing sight, to say the least.

and it was exactly why your father was going to give his business to kento when the time came, because when given the choice between gluttony and love, kento chose love.

he chose you.

“i’m thinking of planting tiger lilies soon.” you hummed, your head resting on kento’s shoulder as he delicately ran a hand down your back, sipping his champagne. “it’s almost their season… right?”

“i believe so, yes.” he nodded. “i think that’s a great idea.”

“thanks!” you cheesed, running the tip of your index finger absentmindedly over the rim of your glass. “will you help me? i need your big manly arms to carry the soil out from the flower shop tomorrow hehe.”

he chuckled, tracing his fingers gingerly over your upper arm. “i’ll pick it up for you in the morning sweetheart. don’t concern yourself with it.”

you smiled to yourself, cheeks warm as you pressed a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.

“i am concerned about something else though…”

his brows pinched, lowering the glass from his lips and looking at you in concern.

“what is it?”

“when we’re gonna pick our wedding date—”

kento laughed boastfully and shook his head, setting down his champagne glass on the little table next to him and settling his hand over your thigh, the material of your classy black dress smooth under his touch.

“you asked me this just last night my love.”

“okay so?” you grinned. “you don’t want me to be your precious wife? the birth giver of your offspring?—”

“i never said that—”

“because i could y’know.” you caressed his jaw with your thumb. “i could be your wife and be the mother of your children… isn’t that what you want?”

with all of his heart.

“it’s what i want at least.” you pouted, and kento smiled handsomely, the vision of you soaked in the rays of the setting sun before him a lethal one as he felt his heart rattle against his chest.

“me promising to take care of you has marriage included above all else my love.” he spoke gently. “you will be my bride someday, i assure you.”

you stared at him warmly, your cheek falling to rest against his as you placed your hand on his chest and over his white crisp button up.

“i also assure you that you’ll continue to be happy and protected, alright?” he squeezed your thigh. “just because i’m not your bodyguard anymore doesn’t mean my duties are done with.”

you nodded against him, the slight prickling cold wind brushing against your skin as the stunning sun continued to set.

“you’re a good man, ken.” you murmured. “and i love you.”

and that was another truest of truths.

because as he reiterated that same three worded phrase back to you and held you closer to his built frame, grabbing his blazer from the arm rest and draping it over your goose bumped filled shoulders, and with a tender kiss to your lips?

it was obvious that kento nanami was born and raised to be just that.

a good man.

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♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 .ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’ve faked it with every guy you’ve ever worked with. Every scene, every moan, convincing, but never real. Then Bakugo happens. One scene turns into something else entirely and now you can’t stop thinking about him, and you’re starting to wonder if it was ever just a scene.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content. smut, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, praise, light degradation, dirty talk, light choking, possessiveness, semi-public sex (on set), creampie, light aftercare, porn industry setting, blurred emotional lines, language.

PART TWO

You weren’t nervous. Not really.

You’d done this a hundred times. With all the big names—Keigo, who liked to make everything a performance; Touya, who had a thing for whispering filth like he was telling you a secret; even that wild three-way with Shindo and Hitoshi that still topped your subscriber requests.

So no, this wasn’t nerves.

This was something else.

Maybe it was the name on the call sheet. Bakugo Katsuki.

He was the guy. The one who didn’t just act like a powerhouse on camera—he was one. Every scene he was in got clipped, shared, memed, thirsted after. The kind of raw intensity people couldn’t stop watching. Or jerking off to.

You included. Not that you’d admit it out loud.

Okay. Maybe once. When you were wine drunk and swiping through his catalog. Maybe twice. Maybe more.

You’d watched him wreck other girls. Watched the way his hands gripped hips like he owned them. The way his mouth dragged moans out like he knew exactly what buttons to push. You always told yourself it was research. Prep for the inevitable scene.

Now here you were, in the makeup chair, legs crossed, phone in hand, trying not to stare at the clock. You didn’t even get this antsy for award shows.

You shifted your hips a little. God, you needed to get a grip.

“Five minutes, Y/N,” someone called from set.

You gave a casual wave, sliding your phone into your bag. Cool. Easy. You’d done this before. You were the girl. The one who always looked good, always knew her angles, always gave the most convincing moans. No one ever knew they were fake.

No one needed to.

You only did this for the money. Never caught feelings, never chased orgasms. You could finish on your own time. You always did.

But when you walked onto set and saw him—arms crossed, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, like the cameras were already rolling—your breath hitched.

And then his eyes locked on you.

Bakugo didn’t smile. He smirked. All sharp teeth and slow drags of his gaze. Like he was already undressing you in his head.

“‘Bout time,” he said, voice low and cocky.

You raised a brow. “Don’t get cocky, Dynamight.”

He stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your chin up. He smelled like something spicy—cologne, sweat, and danger. His smirk widened.

“Too late, princess. I’ve seen your work. Bet I could make you actually cum.”

You laughed. It came out a little shaky. “You think you’re the first guy to say that?”

“Nah,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek like he had every right to touch you already. “But I’ll be the first one to prove it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach flipped anyway. Cocky bastard. You weren’t new to bold claims—hell, you’d heard that same line from half the industry. But something about the way he said it, all low and sure like it was a promise, made your pulse skip.

You turned away before he could see the heat rising to your cheeks.

The scene started like any other.

Lights. Camera. Action.

You were on your back, legs spread, eyes half-lidded. Your moans were perfectly timed, your hands moving just how they were supposed to.

Bakugo was above you, teasing at first, fingers trailing up your thigh, smirking like he had all the time in the world. You tried to stay in character. Tried to focus.

But then his fingers actually slipped inside, and holy shit—

You bit your lip.

That felt… different.

His fingers weren’t just thrusting. They curled. Pressed. Rubbed against the spot you usually had to hunt for on your own. And when he looked down at you, his eyes weren’t blank or performative. They were locked in. Watching every twitch of your mouth. Every hitch in your breath.

“You always fake it this early?” he muttered under his breath, so low only you could hear.

Your stomach flipped. Your thighs tensed.

“What?” you managed, voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo chuckled. It rumbled low in his chest.

“You’re tight,” he said, dragging his thumb over your clit just right. “But you ain’t clenching like you mean it. Not yet.”

And then he sucked on your inner thigh.

Not for the camera. Not for show.

For you.

Your back arched on instinct.

“Relax,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin. “I got you.”

And you hated—hated—how badly you wanted to believe him.

He didn’t start slow.

He licked into you like he was starving, like he’d been starving, and this was his first meal in weeks. His tongue was hot, wet, relentless—flicking against your clit in firm, practiced strokes that had your legs trembling before you could even bite back the first moan.

You weren’t acting.

Not anymore.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, white-knuckled, and your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a broken little gasp.

“Oh fuck—”

He hummed against you. Smug bastard.

“Don’t hold back now, princess,” he murmured, dragging his tongue up your slit slow, then latching back onto your clit like he owned it. “Let’s show ‘em what it looks like when it’s real.”

You whimpered. Whimpered. You didn’t do that.

Not even when Keigo pulled out the toys. Not even when Touya did that breathy thing in your ear.

This was different.

You tried—tried—to keep it together, but his mouth moved like he already knew every inch of you. Tongue swirling, lips sucking, fingers still working inside you like he wasn’t giving you a fucking choice. He knew exactly where to press, where to flick, when to slow down and when to pick it back up again.

And it wasn’t even for the camera.

It was for you.

Your stomach coiled, tight. Too tight.

Your breathing hitched. Your thighs started to shake. You were going to—

“No,” you gasped, voice panicked, eyes fluttering. “Don’t—fuck—I’m—”

“Yeah you are,” Bakugo growled, pulling back just long enough to look at you. His mouth was wet with you, lips swollen, eyes wild. “C’mon. Don’t fake it. Just fuckin’ let go.”

And then he sucked—hard—right over your clit.

Your body snapped.

The orgasm hit like a wave crashing through you, ripping the air from your lungs. You didn’t fake it. You couldn’t. Your moans were raw, broken, punched out of you like the wind got knocked from your chest. You shook, hands flying to his hair, thighs locking around his head as your back arched off the bed.

And he didn’t stop.

Kept going. Licking, pressing, dragging your orgasm out like he wanted to ruin you.

You came again, again, before you’d even come down from the first.

Your voice cracked. “Bakugo, I—I can’t—”

“Yeah you can,” he muttered, not letting up for a second. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good. Look at you.”

You couldn’t. Your vision blurred. Your whole body was buzzing, on fire, shaking like you’d lost control of every single nerve ending. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You didn’t lose it like this.

But god, he was still licking you through it, fingers still curling right there, his voice low and wrecked as he talked you through it like he wanted to brand the sound of your orgasm into your memory forever.

“You gonna cum for me again?” he asked, voice gravel and heat, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You nodded, desperate, lost.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say it’s real.”

Your lips trembled.

“It’s real,” you gasped, breathless, broken. “It’s real, fuck I’m gonna—”

And just like that, you came undone again. Loud. Messy. Helpless.

Bakugo didn’t stop until your hips were twitching, your thighs were soaked, and your moans turned into soft little sobs of overstimulation.

The lights above you still burned hot. The cameras were still rolling. But everything else felt far away—muted, blurry, unreal. Your legs were jelly. Your chest rose and fell like you’d just run a marathon. And Bakugo was still between them, licking his lips like he’d just tasted something forbidden and planned to do it again.

Your brain was still fogged when he stood, stretching to his full height.

Then his hands were back on you, big and warm and so sure, gripping your waist like he owned it. He flipped you over effortlessly, face down, ass up, skin still hot and damp with sweat. Your thighs trembled when they spread open again, already overstimulated and soaked.

Bakugo slid his hands up your back. Slow. Possessive.

“You feel that?” he murmured, leaning over you, his cock grinding against your ass with lazy pressure. “That twitch in your legs? That little shake?”

You nodded weakly, eyes fluttering.

“That’s mine now.”

Your breath caught as he pulled his hips back. You barely had time to process before the thick head of his cock was pressing against your entrance—hot, heavy, and already wet from you.

“You ready?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

Then he pushed in.

Slow. All the way to the hilt. Letting you feel every inch. Stretching you open, filling you to the fucking brim. You choked on a moan, fingers gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, buried deep inside you, letting your pussy throb around him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, hips flexing. “So fuckin’ tight. Can feel you squeezing me already.”

You were. He hadn’t even started moving yet and you were clenching around him like you didn’t want him to leave.

Then—he moved.

A slow drag out. A sharp thrust back in. Deep. Deeper. Your mouth dropped open. No sound came out.

“That the spot?” he murmured, hips rolling again, hitting the same angle, slow and deliberate.

You nodded, gasping.

“You better fuckin’ tell me when you’re close,” he growled, pace still maddeningly slow. “I wanna feel it. I wanna hear it.”

He reached around and pressed two fingers against your clit, rubbing soft, teasing circles that made your arms give out. You dropped to your elbows, back arching like he’d wired you for pleasure.

Then he started really fucking you.

Not fast. Not rough. Just deep. Every. Single. Stroke. Reaching places that made your eyes roll back. His hips snapped forward with just enough force to jolt you up the bed, his fingers never leaving your clit.

You moaned into the mattress, voice high and broken.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “That’s the fuckin’ sound I wanted.”

You were spiraling. Every thrust, every rub, every low growl in your ear sent you closer to the edge.

“Bakugo, I—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” he grunted, hips picking up speed, still hitting that spot that made your toes curl. “Then fuckin’ cum for me.”

You shattered.

You clenched around him so tight he groaned, biting down on a curse as your body trembled under him. Your moan punched out of your throat, high and wrecked and real.

But he didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck—fuck, wait—” you gasped, hips twitching as he kept thrusting, dragging you straight into another orgasm with no break.

He leaned over you, voice low in your ear. “Not fakin’ now, huh?”

You shook your head wildly, whining into the sheets.

“Bet you never came like this on set before,” he said, voice rough. “Bet no one’s ever made you cum like this off it either.”

He wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled gently, just enough to lift your head.

“Say it.”

You could barely speak. “No one. No one but you.”

“Damn right.”

His thrusts sped up, rougher now, deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, joined by your wrecked little gasps, your whines, the slick mess between your thighs.

“You hear that?” he said, low and smug. “That fuckin’ sound your pussy’s makin’? That’s all me.”

You whimpered, and he slapped your ass—not hard, just enough to make you clench again.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re gonna make me cum just like that.”

And then he slammed into you. Hard. Once. Twice. Over and over. You screamed—literally—as another orgasm crashed through you, your body locking up, eyes rolling back.

“Fuckfuckfuck—” he gasped, and then pulled out just in time to stroke himself twice, thick ropes of cum painting your back, his voice ragged as he came with a low, wrecked growl.

You collapsed.

No faking. No poses. Just you, ruined on the sheets, shaking and soaked and completely fucking gone.

Bakugo dropped to his knees behind you, panting. He grabbed a towel off the edge of the bed, wiped you down gently—so gently it made your chest ache.

“You good?” he asked, voice quiet now. Careful.

You nodded, still dizzy. Still pulsing. Still floating.

“I came so many times I lost count,” you whispered, dazed.

He chuckled, cocky and low. “Good.”

You rolled onto your side, trying to catch your breath.

“That was supposed to be a scene,” you mumbled. “That felt like a fucking movie.”

Bakugo leaned in, kissed your bare shoulder, then smirked against your skin.

“Baby,” he murmured, “that was just the warm-up.”

You snorted softly, still breathless. “You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

Your legs were still trembling, body wrecked and used and buzzing. But something else was humming under your skin now. That ache in your core—not from need, but from power.

You rolled over, slow and deliberate, dragging your fingers down his chest. His eyes tracked every movement.

“Get on your back,” you whispered.

Bakugo raised a brow but didn’t argue. He leaned back against the pillows, smirking like he thought he still had the upper hand.

His hair was damp with sweat. His lips were swollen. His chest rose and fell in hard, uneven breaths. You’d never seen him like this.

Your grin widened.

You leaned down and kissed him—soft, slow, way too good to be acting. Then you sat back, hips lifting off him, and slid down his body.

“Where you goin’?” he rasped, half-laughing, half-breathless.

You looked up at him from between his thighs, eyes dark, lips parted. “Didn’t say I was done with you yet.”

His breath caught.

You licked up the underside of his cock—slow, teasing, wet. He twitched in your hand, muscles tensing as you took your time, letting your mouth work him like you had something to prove. And maybe you did. Maybe you just wanted to see him fall apart the way he’d done to you.

You looked up, mouth wrapped around the tip, and saw it—the crack in his composure. The soft clench of his jaw. The desperate twitch in his thigh. The helpless sound he made when you sucked just right.

“You’re so sensitive, you’re not gonna last,” you said around him, lips brushing the head.

His fingers gripped the sheets. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

You kept going, messy and perfect, tongue flicking and mouth sinking deeper, until he was panting, until he was cursing under his breath, until his hips jerked off the bed.

And then you pulled off, slow, dragging your tongue over the tip one last time.

He made a noise—wrecked.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his hips again. His hands found your thighs like muscle memory, gripping tight.

You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.

“Beg.”

He froze. “What?”

You rolled your hips once, just enough to feel the slide of his cock against your slick entrance.

“Say it,” you whispered. “Tell me you want it.”

Bakugo swallowed hard. His voice was low, rough. “I want it.”

You licked the shell of his ear, teasing. “Not good enough.”

His hands trembled where they held you. Then he growled, breath hot.

“Please.”

You stilled.

“What was that?”

He gritted his teeth. Looked up at you like he hated how much he meant it.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want you. Need you. Fuck, I’ll say whatever you want—just ride me.”

You smiled. Real. Slow. Lazy and smug.

Then you sank down on him—deep, wet, tight—and his whole body arched beneath you, a broken moan punching out of his throat like you’d ripped it from his chest.

His hands flew to your hips.

You rode him slow. Sweet. All control. And when he finally came again—loud, raw, completely undone—you kissed him through it. Held him through it.

And when he whispered your name afterward, soft and stunned, like he didn’t know what just hit him

You smiled. Because for once, it wasn’t just acting.

Neither of you moved right away. His arms were still around you, chest rising and falling under your cheek, skin damp with sweat, muscles twitching beneath your fingers. Your heart was still beating too fast, and so was his.

Eventually, though, you had to get up. Had to move. The spell didn’t break, exactly—it just faded enough to remember where you were, who you were, what this was supposed to be.

You pulled on your robe in silence, legs still shaking slightly, and glanced at him across the bed. He sat up slow, pushing his hair back, watching you with something unreadable in his eyes. Like maybe he had more to say, but didn’t know how. Or didn’t think he should.

You hesitated.

So did he.

“Um…I’ll see you around,” you said, trying to make it sound casual, even though your voice came out a little too soft.

“Yeah,” he said, standing and reaching for his clothes. “Guess you will.”

Your stomach twisted, weirdly tight, but you smiled anyway. You nodded once, turned, and walked off set without looking back.

You didn’t see the way he watched you go.

Didn’t see the way his fingers flexed like he wanted to reach for you.

Didn’t hear the low, quiet fuck that slipped from under his breath when the door finally shut behind you.

You got home and didn’t even shower right away.

You peeled off your clothes slow, every muscle sore in the best possible way, and collapsed into bed wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie and your post-fuck glow. Your thighs ached. Your voice was half-gone. Your lips were still swollen.

You looked wrecked.

You felt worse.

And yet somehow, the only thing you could think about was him. The way he’d looked at you. The way he sounded saying your name. The way his hands had held you after like he wasn’t ready to let go.

You tried to distract yourself. Pulled up the scene, freshly posted not even an hour ago.

It already had thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments. More than anything you’d dropped in months.

You scrolled.

StepOnMeY/N: Holy shit, that was unreal.

BbyBakuGo: not y/n faking with everyone but bakugo

ToyasToy: Was that real? Tell me that was real.

It was.

You scrolled further.

KeigoOfficial: I feel personally offended. Gonna have to step my game up. Rematch y/n?

TouyaTodo: faked it? With me? damn. i must be losing my edge. hit me up when you wanna make it real doll.

You smirked.

Your DM notifications were blowing up. People you’d worked with. People you hadn’t. Everyone suddenly curious. Hungry. Competitive.

Your stomach flipped. It was fun. It was flattering. But none of it hit quite the same.

Then you saw it.

BakugoK: Already need more from my favorite girl.

You stared at it.

Read it once.

Twice.

A third time, just to make sure it was real.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers went numb. You sat up in bed, heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape. Because what the fuck did that mean?

You clicked on his profile. Double checked that it was him.

It was.

No emoji. No game. Just a single comment that said everything and nothing all at once.

Already need more.

Favorite girl.

You slammed your laptop shut and screamed into your pillow. You kicked your feet like a schoolgirl. You laughed—hysterical, breathless, completely losing your mind.

Then you opened your laptop, stared at the comment again, and whispered out loud to no one

“Oh my god.”

Because yeah—you’d done this a hundred times. But this one was different.

[delicatebarness]

Extremely cracky but I am cackling at the thought of Thunderbolts endcredits(/Doomsday?) Bucky and pregnant reader hanging out with other heroes and the topic falls on everyone's hero suits and someone asks reader what she thinks of Bucky's new suit and she goes "Well, does this answer your question?" and points at her belly because he absolutey knocked her up when Bucky fucked her still wearing the fit.

If you want to make it smutty it can always include a flashback. 🤷‍♀️

in the suit?! | bucky barnes

Summary: ^^ Request

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI | Possible Thunderbolts* Spoilers | Smut | Detailed Open Door | Dirty Talk | Innuendos | Are we still saying John Walker as a warning? | Choking | Pregnant Reader | Mild Language | Alcohol Use | Suit Kink

Word Count: 965

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. And getting to stare at clips of Bucky in the suit as references. Thank you. Ps-Gif has nothing to do with the one shot, but fuck.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

Present:

Your post-mission debrief had somehow turned into a party—beers around a bonfire, with s’mores. Yes, someone had brought s’mores. It was Bob. You half suspected that he’d googled ‘what do friends do for fun?’ on the way back to the tower.

You were sitting on a lawn chair, mocktail one hand, the other absently rested on your stomach—the baby bump very much obvious at this point. Behind you, Bucky stood with one hand on your shoulder and his vibranium hand wrapped around a beer while he looked like he wanted to re-enter the void any time anyone got too loud.

And naturally, Yelena got loud.

“Okay, here’s the real question,” she called out, waving her beer bottle around the team like a sword. “Which one of the ‘new’ Avengers has the best suit?” 

“That’s so subjective.” Ava groaned.

“Exactly my point,” Yelena replied. “Subjectively, it’s me.”

Puffing out his chest, Alexei snapped. “I will ignore this insult and remind you of this iconic design!” 

“You literally squeak when you move,” Walker said. 

“You squeak emotionally.” Ava scoffed, taking a swig of her own beer bottle.

Walker pointed toward Bob. “What about him? Dude’s got like, three different fits.”

Bob smiled politely, yet his hand visibly trembled. “Thanks… I’m molecularly unstable.” 

Then suddenly, all eyes turned to Bucky.

Including yours. 

How could they not? The matte black suit. The red star. The arms. 

After a beat of silence, someone—you think it was Ava—looked at you and said: “What do you think of Barnes’ new suit?” 

Bucky froze. His hand tightened against your shoulder. Slowly you lowered your mocktail, raising your brows toward Ava.

“Well, Miss Starr,” you gave your swollen stomach a gentle double tap. “Does this answer your question?” 

In surprise, Yelena dropped her beer into the grass. Alexei smiled, until the realisation flashed over his eyes and he clutched his chest like he’d been shot. Bob blinked rapidly in your direction, as though he was running a diagnostics. Walker let out a bark-laugh, quickly turning it into a full wheeze. 

“No. Nooo,” He shook his head, the laughter still ringing through your ears. “Are you saying—Wait—in the suit?!” 

You smirked, and shrugged your shoulders slightly. “Didn’t even take the glove off.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened. 

Three Months Ago:

The safe house door slammed behind you. You barely crossed the entryway before Bucky had you pressed against the wall. His breath was hot, his body humming with some leftover tension from the mission.

He was still in his New Avengers suit—matte black kevlar clinging to his body like a sin, his dog tags swung with every move, and his arm plates clicked together.

You barely had time to catch a breath before his mouth crashed into yours. 

“Are you going to keep the suit on?” you murmured between kisses, fingers tracing the lining of the red star embroidered into his right arm. 

His teeth pulled at your bottom lip. “Are you complaining?” 

You weren’t.

Instead, you desperately tugged on his belt.

He growled.

And before you knew it, your legs were around his waist, his arm braced under your thighs. His vibranium hand reached up to cup your cheek, trailing his lips over your jaw with a ragged breath.

“You’ve been staring at me in this thing all damn day,” he hissed against the shell of your ear. “Did you think I didn’t notice, babygirl?” 

“Maybe–Maybe I wanted you to.”

In response, he ground his hips against you—still dressed, but the feel of him had you clenching around nothing. Bucky didn’t rush. He never did. He made you feel it. He made you feel him. And every ridge of his suit, the inches of him still layered between you.

Finally, he freed himself, and you let out a sharp gasp at your underwear being shoved aside. “Don’t hold back, sergeant.” you breathed, fingers entwining in his hair, pulling the strands. 

And he didn’t.

With one hard thrust, he was buried to the hilt—dragging out a broken moan from the back of your throat. He was rough, relentless. His hips snapped into you, driving you like he was proving a point.

He let your name fall from his lips. 

The suit creaked with every movement, and his gloved right hand tightened around your thigh. His grip was bruising. His left hand found your throat—firm, grounding. Just enough to make your vision blur—not enough to lose control.

“You take me so good, baby,” he panted. “Fuck—you’re so tight, can feel you everywhere.”

Unable to form words, you gasped. High-pitched, wrecked whines of: ‘Harder—’. Pushing your chest out, you felt his dog tags swing between your breasts with every thrust.

Bucky’s fingers found your clit—still gloved, the textured leather moved over your skin toward the sensitive nub—rubbing tight, delicious circles. 

You screamed his name.

Your body shuddered against him, vision turning white at the edges as your orgasm washed over you. Bucky’s hips stuttered, groaning deep from his chest as he spilled into you. His forehead pressed to yours. 

He didn’t let you go.

Breathing hard, you clung to him.

Present:

“So, just to confirm,” Walker continued to laugh. “Bucky Barnes, the Winter freaking Soldier, turned into a thirst trap and you said ‘yes’ without any hesitation?”

“I said ‘harder’, actually,” you corrected, taking your mocktail straw between your lips.

Bucky muttered under his breath, looking up to the sky, up to the stars. “You tried to, at least.” 

Yelena collapsed into Ava’s shoulder. “I never want to see that suit again.” 

“I’ll be seeing it again, tonight,” you said sweetly, standing up to make your way toward the bathroom. Patting Bucky’s chest as you pass. “Pizza first, though. I’ll need the carbs.” 

Bob blinked. “Should–Should I get more s’mores?”

“Yes, Bob,” the New Avengers said in unison.

___