#still not saying what it is in case I was right and it's extreme minority opinio | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinhaler · 10 months

Text

𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k

“This seems a little…”

“What?”

“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”

“No!” Maisie objects.

She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.

You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.

You’re content being alone.

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”

“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”

“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.

You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.

You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.

She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.

“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”

“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”

“Sure.”

“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”

“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.

She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.

However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.

“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.

This is so her.

She’s more excited for this date than you are.

“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”

“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”

“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.

You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.

If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.

As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.

Still so committed to the blindness of the date.

It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.

They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.

Oh God.

You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.

Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.

And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.

You decide to offer him some grace.

Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.

Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.

YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉

Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?

Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.

Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.

You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.

And, really, you’re speechless.

He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.

But you know better.

While he knows nothing.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.

“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.

“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”

“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.

“I’m old fashioned, so—”

“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.

He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.

Your heart pounds furiously.

Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.

YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily

You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?

“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.

With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.

“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.

“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.

“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.

“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.

You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.

“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.

“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.

There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.

“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.

Let go.

You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.

“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.

“No, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.

“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.

“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.

“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.

“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”

You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.

“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.

You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.

He terrified you.

And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.

“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.

But for some reason—

“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.

He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.

It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.

“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”

His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.

“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”

You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”

“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”

“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.

He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”

“He is not—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”

The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.

“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”

You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.

“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”

“No, no—”

“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.

“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.

And you’re powerless.

You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.

“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself

Bowling.

You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.

Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.

“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.

You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.

For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”

“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.

“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”

“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.

You decide to go for it.

He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.

“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”

“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”

“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.

He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.

“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.

“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.

All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.

If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.

You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.

“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”

“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”

“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.

You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.

It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.

He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.

“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.

He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.

You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.

“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.

“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”

“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.

You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.

“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.

“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.

He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.

His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”

You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.

“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.

“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.

“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.

“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.

“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”

“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”

“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.

He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.

You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.

“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.

“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”

“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.

You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.

But you don’t say that.

In fact, you barely say anything.

He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.

“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.

He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.

You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.

It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.

He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.

“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.

“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.

“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.

“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.

He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.

You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.

“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.

“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.

You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.

“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.

“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.

“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.

“Shit, was it?”

“Absolutely.

You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.

It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.

There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.

He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.

“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

You don’t want to leave, either.

“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.

“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”

You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.

He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.

“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.

You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.

“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.

You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.

And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.

“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?

You can’t.

You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.

But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.

“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.

You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.

When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.

You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.

“Hey—”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.

“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You can’t fucking sleep.

It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.

But you can’t sleep.

Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.

Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?

You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.

The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.

You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.

When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.

You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.

You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.

As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.

“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.

You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.

You can’t.

But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.

You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.

The only thing on your mind is how close he is.

“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.

One won’t come.

“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.

He should have left you be.

“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?

“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”

“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.

“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.

You can’t.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.

“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”

Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.

But look at you now.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.

It’s getting out of hand.

You can’t stop it.

You can’t help it.

“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.

You give him the opportunity to leer at you.

And he’s so thankful.

Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.

“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”

Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?

He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.

It doesn’t register to him, though.

You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.

You can’t.

“I know…” you confess.

You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t.

And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.

You’re perfect.

“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.

You kiss him again.

And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.

“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”

You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.

You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.

And now, you’re ravenous.

Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.

And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.

You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.

You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.

“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.

“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”

“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…

His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.

“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.

You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.

But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.

He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.

You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.

You can’t.

Not anymore.

He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.

His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.

You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.

“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.

“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.

Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.

“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.

You just can’t.

Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.

The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You’re pathetic, you think.

It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.

But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.

Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.

“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.

He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.

“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.

He can’t stop.

So he doesn’t.

He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.

And, hell, he might.

You say you can’t.

But why are you moaning for him?

“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.

“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.

You can’t reason with him, though.

Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.

“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”

“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.

Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.

He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.

He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”

You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?

“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.

“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”

“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.

He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.

The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.

You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.

It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.

“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.

A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.

At least, in the literal sense.

You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.

The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.

“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.

It wasn’t enough.

Three wasn’t enough.

The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.

He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.

He’s kissing away your tears.

“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”

It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.

Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.

Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.

He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.

Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.

You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.

“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.

You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.

“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.

“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.

The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.

It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.

“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.

You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.

Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.

So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.

He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.

You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.

He got close.

Really close.

Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.

“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.

“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.

“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.

And he realises it isn’t his phone.

It’s yours.

He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.

“Hello?!” Maisie.

He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”

“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.

“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.

“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”

“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.

“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”

“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”

“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”

“W-What?”

“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”

“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.

“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”

“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”

“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.

You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.

“It was… fucking amazing.”

#rensuke kunigami x reader #kunigami x reader #rensuke kunigami x you #kunigami smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #kunigami x you #rensuke kunigami smut #tw alcohol consumption #tw dumbification #tw size difference #tw size kink #tw dacryphilia #tw praise #tw bullying mention

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tac-the-unseen · 4 months

Note

Hey how are you doing 👋🏽

I have a request, can you do a Thomas Hewitt x pregnant reader, just pure fluff

I bet that man would be a good father idk

Thomas Hewitt x pregnant Reader Headcannons

@diablosinners

CW: Pregnancy Difficulties, Child birth, Minor misogyny, extremely minor mention of Abortion (Like it's not said but implied)

Minor Angst and Fluff (It gets better I promise)

•When you found out about your pregnancy the first person you told wasn't Tommy, it was Luda Mae

•You told Luda the news and she was delighted

•You were panicked

•Not only was this your first baby, it was an unplanned one

•Your family has a history of trouble-some pregnancies and with the nearest hospital being hours away, this possibilities really frighten you

•Luda had to calm you down and stop you from almost stress vomiting on yourself

•She sat with you as you sobbed and tried to collect yourself enough to make some kind of plan

•You talked about your options and while she was trying to sway to one way, she said it was ultimately your choice

•You both decided to wait two weeks before telling anybody

•You didn't want to get anyone's hopes up just in case something happened to you or the new-comer growing inside of you

•after the two weeks have passed you waited for Thomas to get done working for the night so you can tell him

•When he walked through the door to see you sitting in a rocking chair he was slightly confused

•Normally you're upstairs or in the kitchen

•He wasn't worried it was simply just out of the ordinary

•You got up and guided him up the stairs and into your shared bedroom

•You sit him down and slowly introduce the topic into the conversation before making your rehearsed announcement

•He was silent for a few seconds, just long enough to let your panic sleep into your bones

•A cool chill runs through you and you begin to back petal

•You tell him how long you knew and all the options you have

•You’re quickly to ramble on about how you don't need to have right this minute and you could wait for later down if that's what Thomas needed

•Thomas listens to your quickly and panicked speech for a little bit before gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards him

•He leans over and softly kisses your forehead

•He runs a hand down to your stomach and gently rubs the side

•His one gentle kiss turned into multiple fast pecks all over your face.

•He was excited

•It took him just hours to already make plans for what he wanted to do with his future child

•He was comforting you at every turn and freaked out Everytime you bumped into a countertop or a wall.

•Thomas practically stood over you all day everyday

•He wants to always have you in his sights, for his peace of mind and yours

•He brings you drawings of what crib, rocking chairs, and wood carved mobile he wants to hang over the crib

•He lets you watch and values your opinion over everyone else. When asked by other family members why, Thomas points to you as if to say ‘They’re the pregnant one.’

•When you started to show he would occasionally gently lift your belly to relieve you of the weight the baby puts on your back.

•He never really liked leaving the house and normally left that up to his brothers, but he wanted to help with the baby shopping

•he gently holds out baby blankets he thinks you'll like, but keeps in mind that Luda-Mae has be fiercely crocheting baby blankets and sewing baby clothes

•He actually cries when you hold up the little baby booties and compares them to his huge palm.

•He carries all the bags to your car and lets you drive him home with the yellow booties still in his hands.

•You fought hard to let the other Hewitts know you were giving birth in an actual hospital

•Everytime the birth was brought up it turned into a huge argument. “Every Hewitt was born in this house and they will continue to be born in this house!” Charlie and Monty argued

•You kept bring up your side of the family's history and how you're not willing to die and leave the baby with a house full of psychos no matter how much they tried to deter you

•When you eventually went into labor Luda was quickly to Hussle you and Tommy into the car

•Both of them respected your wishes and understood your concerns and allow you to give birth in the hospital a two hours away

•By the time you got there you were 8 cm dilated and every nurse was scrambling to get you a room and a doctor to deliver your baby safely

•It was bloody, tiring, and the most pain you've ever been in but by the time the baby was out you passed out

•They rushed to stitch you up and stop you from hemorrhaging and had to use their hands to assist you delivering the placenta

•When all's said and done your baby was safely in your arms

•Luda brought a camera to take birthing pictures and Thomas was clutching all the baby blankets

•Thomas was terrified by your body seemingly giving out and when informed you easily could have died, He was relieved he actually listened to you and not his noodle brained brothers

•while it was great to have your baby in your arms, you were in desperate need of sleep, so the baby was pawned off to Luda so she could help Thomas hold his new-born for the first time

•That moment was magical for him, and even though his mind was already made up, he knew he would die for this child if it ever came to that

•Luda left the room briefly to use the bathroom and That left Tommy with the smallest human being he's ever seen wrapped up in the hospital’s white with pink and blue striped blanket.

•The quiet of the room was what made him sob

•His sleeping partner and sleeping child all together as a family was enough to break him

•The car ride home a few days later was also silent

•He sat in the back seat with the baby's car seat watching as the hum and the vibrations of the car lull the child asleep

•He did leave that baby’s side for a second

•He was there when the baby cried, when the baby slept, when the baby needed a diaper change, he was there for every moment

•Until His brothers bitched at him to start working again

•Thomas, while wanting to stay with you and the baby, did understand he was the muscle of the house and he had work to do to maintain it

•He worked as fast as he could so he could be with you two again

•You had secretly been teaching your baby to say Dada because you know how hard Thomas is working and how dedicated he is to his family.

•When the child did say their first words ‘Dada’ Thomas actually ran around the living room as a victory lap.

•All that made better by your Child giggling

•Thomas has made toys out of bones, yes they are properly cleaned, he doesn't want to get his baby sick

•Nobody but You, Thomas, And Luda are allowed to hold the baby, He knows how harsh and clumsy his Brothers are and refuses to let them touch the baby

•Thomas isn't normal one to argue with his family but he made a vow to protect you and his children and by God he will kill Monty if it comes to it

•It really won't, But now Monty and Charlie know his serious

Thanks for reading <3

I wrote this fic with a little angst because I feel like every Leatherface x Reader is pregnancy related. I didn't want to re-write what many before me have written so I added minor Angst to at least make it different/Stand out.

Also I'm just not a huge fan of Pregnancy fics in general. Kinda gives me the ick, but I'm not one to disappoint someone who wanted my take of a fic!

#slashers #thomas hewitt #Thomas Hewitt x Reader #x reader #reader #pregnancy fic #texas chainsaw massacre #Leatherface #leatherface x reader #Luda-Mae Hewitt #Monty Hewitt #charlie hewitt #Hewitt family #fluff and angst #hurt/comfort

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anexperimentallife · 4 months

Text

So you want leftist candidates? Here's how you get them:

First off, you have to understand that the far right didn't just wake up one day and say, "We should fuck up the country!" They have been OPENLY working for decades to fill literally every elected or appointed government position they could with Christian Dominionists and other right-wingers, and these folks show up to the polls EVERY SINGLE TIME.

When I was a kid in a far right church in the 1960s, they openly discussed how important is was to get their people into office who would help pass legislation to persecute/imprison/kill anyone who didn't follow their religion. If there's no one sufficiently right-wing running, they'll vote for whomever is closest, even if it gags them. And I cannot emphasize enough that they have long term goals that they are willing to take--and HAVE taken--generations to achieve.

The overturning of Roe v. Wade, for example, is a DIRECT RESULT of the decades-long effort by the far right to boost the most far-right-leaning candidates they could find. They've been talking for decades SPECIFICALLY about getting enough far right judges in SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade. And these SCOTUS appointments are for LIFE, so these judges get to set policy for your GRANDCHILDREN.

So yes, the overturning of Roe v. Wade was only made possible because Trump was able to appoint three SCOTUS judges, in addition to all the other federal judges he appointed. Amd they're talking about going after same-sex marriage, minority rights, etc.

(Hell, the judge in charge of his secret documents case is one that he appointed--she has indefinitely postponed that case,by the way.)

And you don't think local school board elections are important? Have you not seen the news about all the anti-queer policies, and all the book-bannings? This, also, has a generational effect.

Meanwhile the left refuses to turn up to the polls because none of the candidates are pure enough. So guess why things are getting worse?

If the Left turned out for the most left-leaning candidate at EVERY SINGLE ELECTION, whether local or state or whatever, including primaries, we'd start seeing more leftist candidates. Yes, that means that if there's a choice between two extreme right wing candidates, you vote for the least extreme one.

I know I keep emphasizing that this is not just about POTUS, but POTUS does figure in, of course (among other things, who do you think appoints judges for congress to approve?).

So swallow this pill: Anything shitty Biden is doing, the shitgibbon will do MORE of.

"Not gonna vote Biden because he supports genocide, so I'd rather the guy win who ALSO supports genocide, wants Russia to invade more countries, thinks it's fine if China retakes Taiwan, wants a nationwide abortion ban, removal of civil rights for minorities, wants to overturn same-sex marriage (which the right-leaning majority in SCOTUS are already talking about), to cut back the role of congress in checking executive actions (including workarounds to avoid the need for congressional confirmation for presidential appointees), to remove federal employee protections so federal personnel can be replaced with Trump loyalists, and so on! That'll teach those Dems a lesson! THEN they'll be sorry. And fuck everyone the bad guys hurt, because I'll still be PURE. So what if top GOP officials want to actually NUKE Gaza?"

That's fucking kindergartner thinking.

Yes, Biden is a piece of shit, but I am not waxing at all hyperbolic when I say that a second orange shitgibbon term, with a far-right-majority SCOTUS--especially if the GOP manages majorities in both houses of congress--may be the end of what little is left of Democracy in the US. Not gonna argue about it, because I don't waste my time with petulant children.

Look at the GOP's plans for a Republican administration, and tell me you think it sounds better than another term of Biden. Hell, they've even set up online trainings and loyalty tests to narrow down potential federal hires to those who will commit to follow Trump without question.

I repeat: If you want more leftist candidates, if you want more worker power, if you want billionaires taxed, if you want to protect minorities and the queer community, you have to adopt the strategy that the right has used, educate yourself about what candidates stand for, and show up EVERY SINGLE TIME. Again, that includes primaries.

So many of us on the left would rather sit in the basement dreaming of some magical revolution that's going to fix everything, giving ourselves and others purity tests, and proudly announcing that we're... boycotting democracy by not voting(?), "because none of the candidates are a good choice."

Yeah, the left refusing to vote--or only voting in presidential elections--while the right turns up every time is exactly how we got here.

And you have to support the most left-leaning candidate even if it makes you gag, and even if "most left-leaning" means "not as openly fascist." This is the ONLY way you can be assured of candidates getting further to the left in the future. (Note that this means learning about your local candidates.)

"But voting won't fix--" I never said it was going to fix everything. There's no rule that if you vote, you can't volunteer with Food Not Bombs, or run for school board, or demonstrate, or circulate petitions. It takes more than voting, but voting has to be PART of our strategy.

You also have to accept that it may take decades to change course, and that you're not going to like every candidate you have to vote for.

The right didn't just magically get the orange shitgibbon into office overnight. It took decades of work. And if we want decent human beings in charge, we have to be willing to do the same.

#uncle rob gets political

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marksmelodies · 10 months

Text

lovestruck

idol mark lee x fem nct member reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: suggestive, sex, mentions of sex

minors dni

note: one thing about me is i will eat the one bed trope up everytime

—————————————————————————

you and mark are close, considering you’re both in the same units you guys spend a lot of time together, you both get along really well and your friendship is easy going, at least that’s what everybody thinks

the truth is you’ve have had a massive crush on him since you became apart of nct, it was like love at first sight for you, the first time you saw him butterflies invaded your stomach and to this day you still get that feeling when you look at him

on the plane currently flying to japan to preform at the nct nation concert you sit next to taeil as your head begins to lean on his shoulder falling fast asleep, “y/n psst y/n wake up we’re here” you feel somone shaking your arm, taeil and mark stand over you as you blink a few times rubbing your eyes “oh okay thanks” you say getting up and collecting your belongings before leaving the plane

you head straight to soundcheck after the flight, you and your members all gather at the arena, walking over to jaemin you lean the top of your head to his chest and he pets your hair “how was your flight?” you ask since you two didn’t fly together “it was good i slept the whole time” he said as you laugh “i did too, i fell asleep on taeil”

you, mark and haechan switch between stages for different units practicing for the show, after long hours of hard work you’re finally able to go to the hotel, as you arrive it was decided that you and mark would share a room since everyone else was already paired up, once getting checked in everyone went to their respected rooms

mark opens the door as you follow behind him into the room, you both look at each other with wide eyes as you notice there’s only one bed.

“um i-i can go get the staff and have them sort it out or i could just sleep on the floor or something” mark stutters scratching the back of his head

honestly you were way too sleepy to even care “i don’t mind really im just exhausted let’s not disturb the staff they’re probably just as tired” you say dropping your bags on the floor

“yeah you’re right it’s not a big deal” mark says before opening his suit case “you showering first or am i?” mark asks

“you can shower first, i’ll order us some food what do you want?” you ask as he gives you his order making his way to the bathroom, you ordered the food as you sit on a chair in the corner of the room “oh my god i’m sharing a bed with mark” you realize

this isn’t the first time you and mark shared a room, you’ve shared rooms before but not often, usually jaemin was your roommate for tours with nct dream and taeil was your roommate for 127 but sometimes it would get switched and you’d end up with a different member, you two sharing the bed however would be the first, you hear the water stop, you try and act natural scrolling aimlessly through your phone “oh shit” you hear mark whisper through the door, he comes out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist “sorry i forgot something” he says grabbing a pair of boxers before heading back into the bathroom

“stop it, he’s your co worker that’s weird” you tell yourself as you feel yourself getting wet from the sight of him, finally he walks out again completely dressed as he shakes his head in attempt to dry his hair “the bathrooms all yours” he says walking over to sit on one side of the bed

you turn the shower on as you feel the warm water hit your back, as you shave your body you can’t help but imagine mark naked, his dick moving in and out of your pussy as you moan his name running your hands through his dark hair “ fuck” you say to yourself as you become extremely horny, you finish up trying to ignore the feelings in between your legs as you dry off and change into your pajamas that consist of white cotton shorts with tiny red hearts all over them and matching cami top, you look at yourself in the mirror noticing your pajamas are quite revealing, your shirt was slightly cropped showing off the diamond of your belly button piercing as and your shorts showed the tiniest bit of ass peaking through the bottom

you sigh before drying your hair and doing your skincare routine, putting lotion, deodorant and perfume on considering you were going to be sharing a bed with the man of your dreams you wanted to smell addicting

opening the door you see mark laying in bed on his phone, the delusions are running wild in your mind “he looks so good” you say to yourself as you walk to your suitcase putting some things back into it, mark looks to you and then to what you’re wearing, his eyes widen, as much as he tries not to.. at the end of the day he’s still a man, his eyes travel down to your ass as you’re bent over in front of him rummaging through your suitcase, once you stand up he looks at your boobs practically spilling out of your top, the blood quickly runs to his dick as he tries his best to hide the growing boner under the sheets “damn it y/n” he cusses in his head as he desperately tried to palm himself without you knowing

as you were about to lay next to him in bed the knock on the door keeps you from doing so “oh that must be the food” you say exactly walking to the door

“mark the foods here” you tell him as you set everything up on the table, he gets up taking his food before sitting down across from you “oh my gosh this is so good” you practically moan as your eyes roll in the back of your head, in any other circumstance mark would have just found it a funny gesture to how much you love food but he was extremely turned on and what you just did made it so much worse

mark nearly chokes on the food in his mouth as he hears the moan leave your lips, the thinks about how you would sound in bed as he fucks deep into you, “how are you feeling about tomorrow” you ask him bringing him back from his thoughts “oh um i’m pretty confident with everything i think we’ll all do really good, im excited” he smiles at you “i agree” you say finishing up your food

you and mark both stand in front of the bathroom mirror brushing your teeth, the bathroom was small making it hard to move around with two people, you stand by the sink as mark hears his phone go off “i should probably check that” he says with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, he attempts to scoot behind you but as he does his dick accidentally slides across your ass as he leaves the room

you stand there in complete shock to what just occurred and on the other side of the room mark does the same, both of you however acted like nothing happened as you continue finishing getting ready for bed

“i’m gonna sleep on the floor” mark says as you approach the bed

“mark don’t be stupid, get in bed, your whole body is going to ache if you sleep on the ground and we have a show tomorrow” you say to him getting under the sheets as he sighs doing the same, both of you are on the edge of the bed in attempt to be as far away from each other as you possibly can “goodnight mark” you say turning off the light “goodnight y/n”

it was silent the both of you were to scared to move which resulted in feeling really uncomfortable and not able to fall asleep, without thinking you shift you body away from the edge and closer to mark, mark turns his head looking at you before scooting closer as well, shoulders practically touching its impossible not to feel the sexual tension between the both of you, it’s almost too much to handle, the more tired you get the more bold you become due to your slight deliriousness

the both of you turn your heads towards each other at the same time locking eyes “mark” you whisper inching closer to him really hoping you aren’t misreading the signs, you’re both inches away you can feel his breath coming from nose, you place one of your hands on his stomach and he slightly flinches from your touch as he blinks at you before he makes his move

mark places a hand to your cheek before leaning in closer “can i kiss you” he asks looking at your lips “yes please” you beg before his lips smash into yours, it was a heated kiss, his hands move from your face and behind roaming your body as one of them lands on your ass scooting you even closer, he slightly grabs your ass causing you to slightly moan into the kiss, mark pulls away as you both catch your breath “god you smell so good” mark says as he looks into your eyes

“mark i need you” you whine as he looks to you with big eyes “are you sure” he asks as you nod your head yes “im so sure” you say tracing his abs

you’re now underneath him as his lips are back on yours, tongues fighting for dominance as mark clearly wins, he trails kisses down your neck and chest as his hands play with the hem of your shirt “can i take it off” he asks as you give him permission

mark groans from the sight of your boobs, feeling like i virgin again who can’t control himself over a pair of tits “fuck your so pretty” he says looking at you before his lips attach themselves to one of your boobs at he plays with the other “mark” you whimper as your hand goes straight to his hair “you like that baby? you like your tits getting sucked” he says leaving a few kisses to your nipple before trailing more kisses down your body “when did you get this” he asks pointing to your belly piercing, you chuckle at his obliviousness “like two years ago”. to be fair you never showed much skin to the members so you wouldn’t have expected mark to know “it’s so hot” he replies before moving up to give you a kiss on the lips “you’re so hot y/n” he says kissing you once more, you give him permission to keep going as he takes off your pants

“no underwear?” he asks smirking at you “and here i thought you were so innocent” he says before pulling his own shirt off along with his shorts leaving him in nothing but his boxers

“mark fuck me please” you whine

“be patient baby, be a good girl for me” he says as he pulls his boxers off causing his hard cock to smack against his stomach, you gulped at his size, honestly you were not expecting that from mark but he was bigger than what you’ve ever handled

mark spreads your legs as he stand on his knees in between them looking to you for one last yes before he slowly pushes his dick into you causing you both to moan “you’re pussy is so pretty baby,fuck princess you’re so wet for me” he says pushing himself deeper “you’re so tight babe, you feel so good” he says leaning over to hover you “mark you’re so big” you moan holding both of your hands to his face pulling him into a kiss

mark lets you get used to his size before finding his rhythm as he fucks into you faster and faster, you wrap your legs around his hips as your head falls back letting out moans

“you sound so pretty for me baby” he says interlocking your hands together on the mattress as he gently pins you down “god you feel so good” he repeats himself as he takes his hands from yours grabbing onto your waist as he takes himself out of you roughly ramming back into you, he does that a few times before he brings your legs over his shoulders fucking himself deeper into

“fuck mark i’m going to cum” you moan as a smile creeps onto his face “ cum for me princess” he says as you let yourself go feeling tingles shoot through your body “mark” you moan as your legs begin to shake

“good girl, you’re doing such a good job for me baby, you’re taking me so well” he says kissing your lips

he switches positions again as your legs are now pressed against your chest, the headbord is smashing against the wall as the bed slightly creeks due to his fast thrusts

mark feels you tightening around his cock as he brings his fingers to your clit roughly rubbing it until your jaw goes slack as strings of moans leave your body and your legs shake announcing your orgasm as he lets you ride it out

mark feels himself getting close as well as he pounds himself into so hard you start to see stars, he brings his hand up wrapping it around your throat as his thrusts become sloppy and his head hangs low “fuck i’m coming baby, i’m coming” he says as his hands go back to your hips before you feel a warm sensation fill you “fuckkk” he moans as his cum releases into your slightly fucking the cum deeper into you before pulling out as it leaks out from you whole “ fuck that’s hot” he says pushing his cum back into your pussy causing you to squirm

he kisses your lips as you look up to him completely out of it “look at you so fucked out for me princess” he says pushing your hair out of your face as he gets out of bed to clean you up

laying on his chest as the both of you lay under the covers completely naked “mark?” you say playing with his fingers “yes baby?” he says looking down at you “do you actually like me or did you just want to fuck” you ask almost regretting it

mark sits up a bit making you sit up as well as he grabs your chin making you look up at him “i’ve been in love with you for a long time, you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this” he says kissing your lips “everything i said was true,you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” he says

you look up to him with a big smile “good because i’ve been in love with you for as long as i can remember” you say settling back down into his chest “i wished we had figured this out sooner” you laugh “yeah me too baby” mark responds

“you’re my girl you know that?” he says rubbing your stomach

“i wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s” you say as your eyes begin to drift off into a deep sleep

the next morning you wake up to johnny, jaehyun,jeno and jaemin bursting into your room

“get up love birds and get decent, we have breakfast to attend to” johnny yells throwing a pillow at you two as you lay cuddled next to eachother without a single piece of clothing on

“yo get out” mark says waving his hands to shew them away as they all chuckle before leaving “hope you used protection” jaemin yells before closing the door

you and mark shoot up starting at eachother remembering the events of last night and how you in fact did not use protection

“fuck”

—————————————————————————

#nct dream #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct 127 #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee fic #mark lee fanfic #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct u #nct u x reader

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genacity · 1 year

Text

ᚙ GENACITY’S KINKTOBER 2023! ୭ৎ

hello everyone, it’s gen! this year, i’ve decided to participate in kinktober to make up for the lack of content i’ve been producing. to put it short, i’ve been super busy and demotivated because i haven’t played hoyo games in a while. but, i thought it’d be fun to crank out a few halloween themed stories for you guys to let y’all know i’m still alive. every monday and friday of the month i will be posting a blurb or story with one character and a few kinks. so, without further ado, genacity’s 2023 kinktober prompt list!

the kinks written in this masterlist may be considered graphic or extreme for some audiences. please be advised.

this may or may not include mythical species / monsterfucking (vampires, lycanthrope, ghosts, etc), bondage, aphrodisiac / drugging, somnophilia, unhealthy obsession, blood (no gore), impact play, etc.

in all works, each party explicitly verbalizes their concent and is aware they are consenting. in the case of established relationships, it is to be interpreted that the couple has mutually agreed to anything beforehand (ex. somnophilia, aphrodisiac, etc). and is aware and okay with what their partner is doing. safewords are present, consent is key.

this masterlist will also be multifandom to reach more audiences and test my comfortability writing for new media.

as always, minors, do not interact with any of my works or me in general. this blog contains mature content.

thank you for choosing whorror airlines. ✈️

OCTOBER 2. gojo satoru

your boyfriend gojo satoru is convinced you’ll never be able to knock him off of the pedestal he stands on. saying he’ll always be the one to fuck you good and straight, that you’ll never one up him. maybe it’s time to show him that he’s not always right.

bratty! first time sub! gojo, overstim, dacryphilia, anal penetration & fingering, hair pulling, dumbification

OCTOBER 6. rengoku kyojurou

when a clueless hashira wanders into your layer of operations, you can’t help but put up a fight— and admire his fat tits through the inconvenient tear in his uniform you inflict.

demon! reader, masochist? rengoku, feminization, body worship, praise, nipple play, impact play

OCTOBER 9/10. armin arlert

as a vampire and a parent, it’s hard to find a babysitter that’ll stay up all night with your nocturnal little one while you’re at work. luckily for you, armin is here to get the job done.

vampire! parent! reader, babysitter! armin, blood kink, blood sucking, slight pain kink, handjob

OCTOBER 13. vi (league / arcane)

after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well.

afab! reader, aphrodisiac chocolate, degradation, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, slight overstimulation

BREAK. OCTOBER 15 — 21.

OCTOBER 23. kaeya alberich

as a werewolf, it’s hard to control your animalistic urges as is. but while in a heat; dizzy and restless and constantly feverish with your tease of a boyfriend around, it just gets that much more difficult.

amab! werewolf! reader, breeding kink, heat, anal pen, “monsterfucking”, spanking, belly bulge, established relationship

OCTOBER 27. simon “ghost” riley

you and your partner ghost have to train on how to get out of hostage situations. luckily for you, you’re good at tying knots.

sadist! reader, masochist! ghost, bondage, temperature/wax play, suggestive

#@ genacity kinktober 2023 ! 🩸 ☆#kinktober #dom reader #sub character #sub smut #jjk smut #kny smut #aot smut #arcane smut #league of legends smut #genshin smut #cod smut #sub jjk #sub kny #sub aot #sub arcane #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub cod

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y13evie · 1 year

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Hi so I saw that you are open to write for house md and I'd like to ask for a chase fic. Like reader is house's kid and either works at the hospital too or gets admitted there but also knows chase and is in a relationship with him. Plot can be fluffy, smutty and/ or angsty I don't really care but I'd like to know how house would react if he sees them interact etc.

Idk if you see this or like the idea but I wish you the best and I really like your fics

hiiiiii anon!! i love this idea sm and i LOVE ROBERT CHASE WITH MY WHOLE HEARTT. dad house is so sweet and cutesy. i tried my best for u

tags: robert chase x houses kid! reader, one use of y/n, house is stubborn but loves u, just fluff

this is embarrassing. never in your twenty-five years of life would you imagine yourself in the hospital that both your father and boyfriend work at. yet here you are, with a 4 cm laceration on your right hand. the triage nurse had just sent you off and notified you that a doctor will be with you shortly. from your room window you could see dr foreman patting a familiar face on the back, probably saying something along the lines of “this case is yours bud”.

as soon as chase read the report he hurriedly rushed into your room. you shot him a sheepish grin and lifted up your hand to reveal the gash.

“my god, y/n”, he sat down next to you and took your hand gently into his gloved one and inspected the wound. he looked up at you, as if asking for an explanation.

“maybe i shouldn’t garden alone. i picked up this clay pot. the way it was sitting had been bothering me for a couple days now. i’m guess i’m not as strong as i thought i was because i dropped it and as it shattered, it cut me up pretty good.”

chase sighed at your stubbornness, something that had drawn him into you since early in your relationship. he took one of his gloves off and gently stroked your hair. he rambled on about how you should really be more careful and call him if you needed anything too laboring done. you weren’t listening. you were staring into those blue eyes. you weren’t into all that cheesy romance stuff but god, those eyes are stunning. your moment was quickly put to an end when harsh tapping could be heard from outside your window. you knew that sound from anywhere.

“you decided to be the one to doctor on MY kid”

house, or dad as you call him, hastily shuffles into your room and gives you both a judgemental look. robert rolls his eyes,

“foreman gave me the case first, i'm just doin’ my job”.

house hobbles over to check your vitals even though it’s a minor issue compared to what they deal with on a daily basis. you know your dad loves you and cares but he’s not the best at verbally expressing it. you knew he would probably just sit there and observe, so you turn back around to your extremely, worried boyfriend.

“soooo” you drag out the ‘oh’ sound, to show him you’re not worried. “whatcha doin after work handsome?”. chase runs a hand through his blonde hair and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“i was planning to go on a cute and sweet date with you, but instead i’m gonna be dr. chase for another 12 hours”.

he sounded tired but you knew he was more than happy to care for his darling. just as you two were planning out your evening, your father and robert’s pagers began harmonizing. chase gives a quick but passionate kids to your temple. house makes his gag be known, sticking a finger in his mouth for dramatic effect.

your dad lingers in the room for a moment, giving your shoulder a squeeze. it’s still gonna take time for him to adjust to the fact his child is dating his co-worker. but you’re not his little baby anymore and he knows it.

when he heads out his parting words are,

“i’ll have someone stitch you up kid, stay put”.

you lean back in the bed and continue to add pressure to your wounded hand. a few minutes pass and your sweet boyfriend stops by again. and takes a seat at the stool beside your bed. he has the tools to stitch up your hand. to distract you from the pain, chase sparks a conversation.

“your old man..” he chews the inside of his cheek. you know exactly what he’s gonna ask. “does he like me? and not as a co-worker. does he think i’m a good fit for his kid?”. your heart sank at the thought of robert thinking he’s not enough. truth is, your dad did like him. though he would never admit it, the fact robert makes you happy, makes your dad happy. he’s real bad at showing it, but you know it’s true.

“he’s a grump, chase. he likes you. he might never admit it. but the fact he hasn’t beaten you to death with that cane of his really says something.”. you can tell your reassurance helped. you loved robert, and he loved you too. before you knew it the stitches were finished. he pulled out a sling from a cabinet so you won’t irritate the stitches too much.

“hey, i’ll get your discharge papers. we’ll have you out of here soon”.

chase pressed a kiss to your lips this time, and he stayed there for a minute. hand on your jaw to keep you steady. you moved your lips in unison, running your free hand through his hair. a sharp pain stabbed your hand and caused you to pulled away and gasp. he reminded you to take some pain medication once home.

before he headed out the door, robert whips around and sternly demands,

“i don’t ever wanna see you in here again.”

#house md x reader #house md #robert chase x reader #robert chase #robert chase x you #house m.d.#house m.d. x reader #reqs open #i love robert chase #he’s so baby girl i love him #this idea is so cute anon

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fae-of-fiction · 2 months

Text

✦ — 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐜’𝐬? ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✦ — 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭; oliver aiku ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✦ — 1.5k words (oops)

✦ — explicit sexual content, minors do not interact please! <3

✦ — i’ll be completely honest i’ve never actually done an nsfw alphabet before so i hope this is okay! i genuinely simp so hard for this man, and i just really wanted to do one for him! as always, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! <33

𝐚 = 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

you’ll have a hard time peeling this man away from you after sex. he still feels the rush of fucking long after your session has already ended, and the dopamine rush turns him into an absolute cuddle monster. his arms are like iron bars when they cage you to his body, but his lips are soft and gentle as the pepper kisses along your shoulder and neck. watch out for the scruff; it might tickle.

𝐛 = 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku loves every part of your body, so it’s a bit difficult for him to choose just one as his favorite — but if he was held at gunpoint to do so, he would say your thighs without hesitation. he loves the way they feel when they’re wrapped around his waist or bracketing his head; they’re so supple and soft, he could quite literally fall asleep between them.

𝐜 = 𝐜𝐮𝐦 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku cums a lot. like, a lot. he cums like a fountain, with long stripes spurting from his tip regardless of what position he’s in. it isn’t that aiku is backed up, it’s just that it’s that copious; he’s just wired that way. but his orgasms aren’t just explosive in terms of the act of coming — his orgasms rock his whole body, so much so that he trembles from it. the phrase “toe-curling” comes to mind.

𝐝 = 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku secretly loves it when you get dominant. you want his dick? take it. just climb on top and ride him until you’re satisfied. you need his tongue? just tell him where to put it. better yet, don’t say a word, just crawl up to his face and sit like it’s your throne. may or may not enjoy having his hands restrained during these particular instances.

𝐞 = 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku has had a multitude of partners in the past, so it’s safe to say he knows exactly what he’s doing. he knows the pillow trick, knows to use his middle and ring finger rather than his index and middle, knows how to curl them just right, recites the alphabet with his tongue against your clit — he’s learned to tricks of a woman’s body, and knows just how to deliver you to nirvana.

𝐟 = 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

doggy, hands down. aiku loves how deep his strokes reach, loves watching your ass jiggle as he slams his hips into you. it’s also the perfect position in terms of control, as he can grip your hips and pull your body back against his if he experiences a cramp in the middle of it; there’s no need to stop the pleasure this way, and it’s more than highly stimulating in a visual sense.

𝐠 = 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

for aiku, it’s sort of a coin flip. for the most part, he’s fairly serious — that is, he’s focused on making you (and himself) feel as good as possible. however, if something happens during the act that strikes his funny bone, don’t expect him to simply ignore it. he will react to it in real-time, even if it’s something extremely embarrassing.

𝐡 = 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

his hair is dark and thick, so aiku does well to keep his nether regions presentable. he doesn’t shave to the skin, but he is well trimmed — enough that you don’t have to worry about getting hair in your mouth when you gobble him down your throat.

𝐢 = 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

again, this one is a bit of a coin flip. to aiku, sex can be just that — sex. but in other cases, it’s not sex; it’s making love. in those cases, aiku will smother you with so much love that you feel you might explode. he takes extra time to caress and kiss your body, and every movement he makes is slow and sensual — deep, languid thrusts into your body and a heated lip lock drive his intense love for you deep into your bones.

𝐣 = 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku is, in layman’s terms, a horn-dog. he loves pleasure, wether it’s brought by his own hand or someone else’s. he masturbates at least once a day, and at this point, he uses it as a means of finding a state of relaxation — on game days, he may masturbate multiple times, as well as indulge in a bit of sin with you in the sheets.

𝐤 = 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

for the love of god, call him daddy. he fucking loves it. even in situations that aren’t sexual, if that word falls from your lips (even in a joking manner), aiku is bricked up instantly. do both of you a favor and use it, okay?

𝐥 = 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

contrary to what his libido may indicate, aiku’s absolute favorite place to fuck is in your shared bed. the sheets are soaked in your individual scents that melt together to create the aroma of home, a scent that both arouses and relaxes him. as a runner up to the bed, aiku also really enjoys shower sex — he loves to pin you up against the wall and pound you while the hot water pounds his back.

𝐦 = 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

anything and everything about you gets aiku going. just a glance in your general direction has him raring to go. but if you really want to fire him up, wear some lacy lingerie and give him a nice little strip tease. but keep in mind that the lingerie stays on during sex.

𝐧 = 𝐧𝐨 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku is, in general, pretty open to anything when it comes to sex. but he does have some boundaries — and that boundary is scat. it’s a hard no in every instance. everything else is on the table, though.

𝐨 = 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku is a bona fide pussy eater. he prefers to give rather than receive, though he certainly won’t say no to you if you offer to suck his soul out. when aiku eats it, it seems almost like he’s doing it for himself — and that’s because he kinda is. of course your pleasure is top priority, but aiku also enjoys himself immensely; he feels right at home between your legs, and he will devour you for hours.

𝐩 = 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

hard and fast or slow and sensual. there’s no in between, and his pace is only influenced by his emotions in the moment. if he’s desperate for release, expect to be pounded so hard you can’t see straight. but if he’s in the mood to really connect emotionally, he’ll fuck your brains out using slow, deep thrusts.

𝐪 = 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

yes. just yes. in the morning when you’re running late, a slip away to the bathroom during a night out with friends, sneaking into the locker room right before a game — aiku is down for quickies any time, any where.

𝐫 = 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku loves experimenting. he will explore anything sexually, especially if it’s something that piques his interest. he’s also always down to try anything that could potentially be explosively pleasurable for you — he wants to rock your world, and make you cum so hard you go momentarily blind. just tell him what you want to try, and he will do it.

𝐬 = 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

stamina king. he can go all day, all night. multiple rounds. he barely ever gets winded, and can fuck for hours straight. how long he lasts depends on multiple factors, including how pent up he is, how many times he’s already come, or how sensitive he may be. more than likely, you’ll tire out before him.

𝐭 = 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

of course aiku owns toys — for himself and for you. vibrators, dildos, pocket pussies, cock rings, plugs, blindfolds; pretty much anything under the sun. aiku enjoys toys that can be controlled via a mobile app, both for himself and you; he likes to insert a vibrator inside you and have you wear it out so that he can randomly turn it on just to watch you squirm.

𝐮 = 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

how much aiku teases depends on how needy he himself is. if he can hold out, he will tease you until you’re trembling and begging for his cock. but if he just wants to bury himself in your nice warm cunt, he will toss away teasing and get straight to the main event.

𝐯 = 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

god, he’s so vocal. moans, groans, grunts, growls, filthy words — aiku spills them all, so you never have to wonder whether or not he’s feeling good.

𝐰 = 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku is completely open to the idea of threesomes — even with another guy. but he’s selective about the time, location and person; everything needs to be approved by the both of you before anything can go down.

𝐱 = 𝐱-𝐫𝐚𝐲 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

aiku is a big boy — stands proud at just below nine inches, he curves just slightly to the right and is thick. more of a shower than a grower, even when flaccid his dick bulges through his pants. looks especially scrumptious in gray sweats or track pants.

𝐲 = 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

through the fucking roof. he wants you all the time. if aiku could, he’d have his cock buried in you twenty-four seven.

𝐳 = 𝐳𝐳𝐳 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

usually within a few minutes — seconds if he’s cuddling with you. considering how long he generally goes, it’s only expected that he’d be absolutely worn out by the time it all fizzles out. somehow always manages to wake up at seven sharp anyway.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #aiku oliver x reader

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vinsmokesangio · 8 months

Text

"good for ya"

pairing: young!coriolanus x wife!reader

summary: you and your husband have a secret code for the intimate moments | based on good for you - selena gomez ft. a$ap rock

my masterlist

a/n: You know when you haven't heard a song for years and when you hear it again you get that feeling as if it were the first time? I had this this week with "good for you" by Selena, and I immediately thought about writing about Coryo! hope you like it <3 PLUS, i'm not really good at writing smut but I tried my best lol

Simple and sparkling, Coriolanus Snow's initials in the shape of Marquise diamonds were on display on your neck. You didn't always wear it, but there was a kind of code between you and your husband where every time you wore that necklace, it was a sign that at the end of that day he could do whatever he wanted with you. Not that he didn't already do it, his possessive behavior went beyond the four walls. But in this case it was more special, your secret code, and above all, it symbolized how much you were his property.

One of the avoxes finished covering the makeup on your face with another thin layer of powder while the other pulled up the zipper of your tight dress, already knowing how much this would drive your husband crazy. You wave dismissing the avoxes that immediately leave your room, and then smile slightly, looking at your own reflection in the mirror. Your eyes shining with lust, just imagining what Corio would do to you at the end of this stupid ball. You were never a very sociable person, especially at these formal events that the new president of Panem was forced to hold to keep up appearances and pretend that he still cared about all those people he only interacted with out of obligation. But the reaction he had upon seeing you, and carrying his initials on a necklace with him, was worth it.

"Good girl. I know what you are asking for when you wear these Marquise diamonds.” he comes up from behind and whispers close to your ear, making your whole body shiver. His teasing mixed with a light scent of posca that came from his lips always brought you to a wave of adrenaline that was impossible to contain. You answer him, smiling mischievously.

“Let me show you how proud I am to be yours”. That sentence, that simple sentence spoken in your innocent and angelic voice, was enough for all of Coriolanus's self-control to immediately go away. And ironically, control was what he liked to have most, especially under you. “Let’s get out of here now.” Was all he could reply before grabbing one of your arms and guiding you to the second floor of the mansion, towards his room.

Once inside the room, Coryo's hands quickly search for the zipper of your dress, desperate to throw it on the floor. The whole set of things you had done today, for him, only for him, drove him crazy, especially knowing your true intentions. You just wanted to look good for him. Undressed, you walk to the bed without breaking eye contact with him, and sit, leaning your back, supporting your weight on your elbows. Teasing him, you take one of your hands to your necklace, while spreading your legs, like an invitation to a banquet.

“You naughty little girl. All dressed up just f’me” Coriolanus says as he walks towards you, unbuttoning the belts on his pants, already extremely tight due to his painful erection. With his pupils dilated and his blue eyes taking on darker tones, one of his hands finds your throat and squeezes it lightly. “You’ve been doing so good for me lately, and I’m going to repay you right now, darling”. His words make you let out a moan, as if they were going straight to your panties.

“Hmm, you taste so good, love” he attacks your pussy like a starving man, eating his first meal in months. The sounds of your moans are like music to him, which encourages him even more to skillfully move his tongue across your clit. He feels you squirm indicating your orgasm.

“C-coryo, I’m close, baby FUCK” shameless, you almost scream in pleasure, grabbing the sheets and pulling your husband’s hair, the way his nose presses against your clit is too much for you.

“That's good, huh? Come for me, pretty girl” and then you reach your peak, leaving your liquids all over Coriolanus's face, who was now smiling in approval. You never had such a beautiful sight.

“please, baby, I need you” “you need what? use your words, love” One of his hands goes to your chin and lifts your face slightly. "I need to feel your cock inside me, please Coryo!” you beg and Coriolanus feels his cock throb, as he puts you on your stomach and slaps your ass, making you gasp.

“you like that, huh? to be good for me, to wear my initials on your neck, you know you’re mine, don't you? my fucking property” he opens your legs and teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, already leaking pre-cum, which enters your soaking hole without difficulty. He starts to thrust lightly, increasing the speed as your moans also increase while his hands push you, making you sink onto the bed. Your cry of pleasure brings the feeling of control that Coriolanus likes so much, he loves the idea of knowing that he gives you so much pleasure.

He increases the speed of his thrusts, achieving his own pleasure, which arrives simultaneously with yours. Trying to catch your breath, you turn over in bed to face him.

“I’ll always be good for you”.

#coryo snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #giowriting #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus x you #tbosbas #snow lands on top #president snow

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audreyscribes · 3 months

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do you think Ariadne accepts Dionysus's children as hers too? She is very loyal to her husband, so I only see Castor, Pollux, Dakota and any other child born to Dionysus being automatically "adopted" by her too or "I'm going to mess with my husband (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)" and claim his children as her right after him do the announcement (poor kid)

i.g:

Dionysus: this one is mine, don't worry *see the sign in the kid's head* ... My grape!

(they're both extremely cute together and the kids suffers with this)

Oh yeah, I can imagine that being the case. Between her and Dionysus when Ariadne was still mortal, apparently they had a lot of demigods; so in terms of demigod children, she probably understands this is just him being a god and still loves her greatly, so it’s just probably filling a need once in a while; why else we see only a literal handful of Dionysus demigods.

So yeah, I can imagine Ariadne accepting Dionysus’ demigods as her own in a way, much like Poseidon’s godly wife, Amphitrite, being very cool to his demigod children. Heck, Amphitrite made cookies for Percy! So it’s not out of the question.

Thus insert the amount of godly shenanigans just between this husband and wife that the Dionysus’ demigods are subjected to. It's also been confirmed by Percy that Ariadne has a strange sense of humour, so yeah I can see that scenario happening a few times, which is practically all the time

What’s also nice to know is that Ariadne is the Cretan Goddess of Labyrinth and Paths, right before she was absorbed into the Greek pantheon. So you can imagine there’s some connotations…afterall, if you’ve ever been in a Labyrinth before, you probably have gotten mad trying to get out…but most importantly, just imagine getting minor blessings or gifts from Ariadne, especially those that involve weaving because of her iconic magic ball of yarn, she is considered the goddess of weaving in a sense. Prepare to get a lot of blankets/quilts, sweaters and socks for Winter Solstice/Christmas from her. There’s also a stretch to say Ariadne is to connected to her roman counterpart, Libera, is a minor goddess of wine with chthonic attributes too, so like can you imagine seeing the floating grape floating above the kid’s heads, and people thinking oh Mr. D is straight up claiming them normally, and him inwardly sighing at his wife’s antics. So very, “MY GRAPE!”

It’ll be a very confusing but fun times ahead.

Thanks for the ask and I hope you have a nice day! ヾ(•ω•`)o

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morganwrites12672 · 11 days

Text

1999 - Seventeen Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Working with the Winchester's to solve a case brings up old, unresolved feelings.

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: Blood. Canon typical violence. Dean being an absolute menace. Minor injury. A tiny bit of kissing.

A/N: This is the longest part yet! I hope you enjoy it! Also, you can read this without reading the rest of the series here: 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤.

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The old library computers were slow as hell. She passively sorted through the archives of newspapers from this town. She had begged her father to let her go out and do anything else, maybe even try and get some of the witnesses to talk, but he hadn't let her. No, he had made her go to the library.

Spending the entire day the library hadn't been something she wanted to do. Even if on any normal day she would be ecstatic. The library was a magical place to her, most of the time. Definitely not right now.

She has spent hours sitting in this stupid, uncomfortable chair. She had found nothing. Whatever spirit was killing people was well hidden in the records. No strange deaths had occured at the hotel where people had started dying in extremely. . . odd ways.

All of the victims had been stabbed to death while they slept. And, the people were all so different. Different ages, races, home towns, etc. So far, she hadn't been able to find a connection between the victims. Neither had Sam.

She pauses her search for a moment and looked over her shoulder. Dean was flipping through a more recent newspaper while sitting at one of the small tables. His feet were propped up on the table, he was leaning back in his chair.

She snapped her gaze back to the ancient computer in front of her. She still had a lot of work to do. She peeked over at Sam's screen. He hadn't found anything either.

"Anything?" She asked quietly, even though she already knew what the answer was.

Sam sighed and looked away from the computer screen glowing in front of him. "This is stupid! There has to be something," Sam said with a huff.

But, there wasn't. Not yet at least. She nodded and went back to scrolling through the archives. After several dozen key word searches (and another hour), she found something. She sat up straighter in her seat as she skimmed through the article. A woman who had been murdered while she slept, at the hotel. It looked like the hotel had tried getting this article buried.

She was about to say something, but she heard Dean's chair scrape across the floor. She didn't have to look back to see what he was doing. She could feel him hovering over her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat at the proximity. She hadn't been this close to Dean since the apple orchard.

"Finally," Dean's deep, velvety voice murmured into her ear. "It only took you all night."

She abruptly turned around in her chair. Who was he to criticize how long it had taken her to finally find something? This had been a difficult case so far. She had been the one to finally find something, not Dean, Sam, her father, or John.

"You were supposed to be helping!" She snapped at Dean. She heard the sound of Sam shuffling in his seat and looked over. Sam had his backpack alung across his shoulder. He walked over to the table, escaping the argument.

Sam's reaction made her feel bad. She was about to say something to the younger Winchester brother whenever Dean opened his stupid mouth again.

"You and Sam are the eggheads," He said. Dean had his signature cocky smirk plastered on his face. His favorite thing in the world seemed to be pissing her off. There was nothing he loved more than seeing her like this, well that or pinning her against an apple tree.

She rolled her eyes as she began writing down the main details of the article she had found. She quickly pressed the 'print' button afterwards. She then gathered her things from the small surface area of the desk she had been working at. She was tired of dealing with Dean. There was no in-between with him. They were either all over each other or arguing.

Dean fumbled for words as he watched her leave. He watched as she stood by the large, noisy printer and waited on the documents she needed to finish printing. He hadn't been expecting that. Usually he would piss her off until she gave in and kissed him.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, crossing the room in a few strides.

She sighed in annoyance as she yanked the freshly printed pages off the tray. She wasn't in the mood to exchange a few insults and snarky remarks with Dean. She was tired and anxious. This was one of the few hunts her father allowed her to come on. It was a recent thing too. Bobby was strict about letting her tag along, even if she was useful.

"Back to the motel."

"How?" Dean asked. "I drove you and Sammy here."

She looked back at him, "I'm walking back."

Her words made a brief sense of panic seize Dean's chest. The thought of her walking back to the hotel, alone, and in the middle of the night made his blood run cold. Maybe he needed to stop being such a dick for a few minutes.

"No, I'll just drive you."

"No," She snapped. She didn't want to spend fifteen minutes in a car with him right now. However, the long walk back to the hotel didn't sound all that appealing. She didn't say that to Dean.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered. "No- wait." He let out a huff. "Just let me drive you. Your dad will shoot me for letting you walk home in the middle of the night." Dean used Bobby as an excuse for a reason to drive her home. He didn't want to have a rom-com moment with her in front of Sam.

She begrudgingly agreed with a sigh.

While she had been arguing with Dean, Sam has finished packing everything else up. He was ready to get back to the hotel. Listening to the bickering of his brother and the girl his brother liked was annoying as hell whenever he was this tired. Normally he didn't mind it that much. It was obvious that the two idiots liked each other.

The drive back to the hotel felt like it was hours long. The soft hum of rock filled the car. Anytime she had tried changing the music in the last when driving with Dean, the older Winchester always replied with the same exact words; "Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts their cakehole."

Once they finally arrived at the hotel, she practically jumped out of the car. She clutched the printed article in her hands as she walked through the parking lot. If her father was back yet then she could give him the information.

She had figured out almost everything they needed. She hadn't figured out where the body was buried though. It has been too late, she would leave that part up to her father. Bobby could probably dig it up in a measly hour. He was incredible at figuring things out quickly.

Whenever she finally made it to the hotels elevator, Dean and Sam had caught up with her. She wasn't surprised that Sam had. He was all long legs and wobbly steps. He reminded her of a baby deer sometimes.

She pressed the button for the floor before Dean could get to it. It wasn't often that she stayed at hotels when her father was off hunting. Motels were much cheaper, and that was were they always ended up. Getting to work a case at a hotel was like a vacation. Even if she felt out of place here.

The elevator came to a stop and she practically leaped out. She needed to get the papers to her father as soon as possible. She finally arrived at the room her father was staying in and knocked. Bobby and John had decided to stick the kids in one room together for this hunt, so she didn't have a key to her father's room.

"What do you Idjits want? It's two in the goddamn morning," Bobby grumbled. Seeing his daughter and the Winchester boys at the door to his room in the middle of the night was not pleasant. He was glad that he was the one who got up and not John.

"I think I figured out who the spirit is."

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It had only taken Bobby an hour to figure out where the woman was buried. While Bobby had been doing that, John had discovered the pattern between the victims. They all shared the same birthday, different years but the same month and day. Further investigation revealed that the woman who had been murdered also shared that birthday.

It didn't take her long to hack into the hotels records. She quickly found someone, the last someone, who matched the description.

The group was split up. Sam going with Bobby to salt and burn the bones, and she was with Dean and John to prevent the spirit from killing anyone else at the hotel. Bobby had argued like it was his last day on Earth for his daughter to take the safer route and go with him. Eventually, John had gotten Bobby to let her stay at the hotel.

She stood outside the soon to be victims door alone. John was handling something else, she had no clue what. And, Dean was gathering up iron weapons from the trunk of the Impala. She only had a rock salt shot gun and practically useless iron switch blade. She knocked on the door. It wouldn't get an less nerve wracking. She adjusted how the duffel bag crammed with bags of salt rested on her shoulder. It was heavy, twenty pounds of salt tended to be like that.

"Wrong room kid," A woman said as she opened the door.

"No, this isn't. This is going to sound insane, but I need you to trust me. Uh, there's been an issue with the pipes," She blurted out. She needed to get the woman to leave. Now.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Damn kids," she muttered and began closing the door. She thought that this girl was just trying to mess with her, completely oblivious to the serious threat to her life.

She mumbled a curse before sticking her foot in the door. The woman looked at her in shock. Before she could explain anything, or come up with some bullshit excuse, the lights began flickering. The usually warm hallways temperature seemed to drop them degrees in mere seconds. A chill ran down her spine.

Shit.

The spirit was already here. She wouldn't be able to get the woman out safely. She knew that her plan had been incredibly unrealistic to begin with. Things never went according to plan in this lifestyle. It just didn't happen.

"W-what the hell?" The woman said with a gasp.

"Move," She muttered to the woman and shoved last her into the hotel room. She dropped her bag and grabbed one of the salt bags. She quickly formed a circle. "Stand in it."

"You're fucking insane!" The woman shrieked and turned to leave. That was whenever she saw it.

The spirit knew what was happening. She wouldn't stand by idly while her bones were burned. The spirit let out a horrible wail, her ripped and bloodied dress flowing behind her, as she charged for the woman.

The kickback of the rifle left an ache in her shoulder as she shot the spirit. It screeched even louder before disappearing. She knew that this wouldn't last long. She quickly touched up the circle of salt.

"Oh my God! Oh my-"

"Get in the damn circle!"

The woman quickly jumped into the circle. She was clueless on what was happening. This was supposed to have been a nice little vacation, not a night of hell!

"What's your name?" She asked the scared woman in a softer voice even if she already knew the answer. She didn't want to freak the woman out anymore.

"S-Stacy. Stacy Jean," She stuttered out.

Stacy was wide eyed as she stood in the salt circle. She stared at the girl who had shot the ghost. It was weird as hell to her that someone so young was capable of so much.

"W-what was that thing?" Stacy asked.

She reloaded the rock salt shot gun before answering Stacy's question. There was no easy way to do this. Stacy had seen the spirit. She wouldn't be able to lie to the woman. It was better to come clean about what was going on.

"It's a vengeful Spirit," She said to Stacy.

Before either one of the two woman could say anything else, Dean burst through the door. He looked like he had ran straight here. Finally. Dealing with a pissed off ghost on her own had been unpleasant.

Stacy was in too much shock to do or say anything else. The woman simply stood in the circle, body trembling from fear.

She sighed, quickly reaching for the duffle bag that Dean had brought with him. She hoped that he had brought something useful.

"Took you long enough," She said under her breath as she sifted through the contents of the bag. She took the iron blade out and watched the way the dim lighting of the hotel room was reflected.

"I-" Dean's words were cut off as the lights began flickering again. "Shit!" The spirit reappeared after a couple of seconds, ready for a fight.

There wasn't any time to try shooting at it. She lunged with the blade. Before she could actually stab the spirit, the spirits blade nicked her arm. She hissed in pain before swinging her iron blade. The spirit let out a horrible shriek before vanishing again.

Everything had happened so fast. The seconds had blurred by. The only thing that grounded her back to the present moment was Dean's hand pressing against the small wound on her arm. His brows were knit together as he assessed her injury.

Something that closely resembled panic covered the features of his face. He moved his hand away, his fingers coming off covered in blood. Covered in her blood.

She was frozen in place as Dean darted across the room to get to the duffel bag he had brought. He quickly found the item he had been looking for, a small roll of bandages. He tore off a piece and approached her.

"This is gonna hurt," He said in an oddly gentle voice as he wrapped the bandage around her arm.

A whimper escaped past her lips whenever he tightened the bandage. It made tears sting her eyes. She swallowed thickly, trying to think about anything else.

Dean's jaw had clenched sometime since she had been injured. Her injury pained him almost as much as it did her. Every single time she'd draw in a sharp breath, or he'd catch the slight wobble in her lips, his heart broke. It felt like someone had ripped his chest open.

"There you go," Dean said, thankful that he was finally done. Her wound would still need to be cleaned out and properly bandaged later. This was just for until the Spirit was handled.

"T-thanks," She replied before clearing her throat. Her left arm now ached. It was more inconvenient than anything. She just wasn't used to having injuries like this. Her father rarely let her do anything that might result in one.

She held her iron blade, ready to take a shot at the spirit whenever she would reappear. Hopefully Bobby and Sam were able to find her bones, and quickly. She was buried out back, or at least that's what the article said. The small graveyard shouldn't be that hard to find.

"Why don't you go stand in the circle?" Dean asked her.

"Dean, I can-"

"I'll do it too."

She rolled her eyes but agreed. It was a bit of a tight fit. She stood in the circle with Dean and Stacy. The poor woman still looked completely terrified. Not that anyone could blame her. Finding out about the Supernatural was a horrible experience. Even more so whenever someone finds out while something's trying to kill them.

She shivered as the temperature of the room dropped even more. An invisible forced blew through the room, the curtains billowing in the guest of air. The salt circle had been blown apart and was now useless. Dean took a step to the side, positioning himself between where she stood and where he thought the source of the ominous puff of air had come from.

The spirit flickered into view looking just as pissed as she always was. Her anger radiated around her, leaving a sense of dread inside of everyone who occupied the room.

The spirits dress was covered in blood. The delicate material was also covered in rips. Looking at her, it was obvious what had happened. The pale and graying skin of the spirit seemed to almost glow in the moonlight that had coated the room after the curtains had been blown open.

She almost felt bad for the spirit. What would it be like to die like that? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't have anymore time to waste sympathizing, the spirit charged towards her and Dean. Stacy was cowering behind the two.

Before the spirit could finish the job, she fell back shrieking. Orange flames overtook the body. The spirit let out a horrible wail as her bones were burned.

It was finally over.

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The rest of the night had went by in a blur. Stacy had left the hotel, leaving most of her things behind. She had helped Dean find John, who had been in the basement. Apparently the older man has thought that maybe the bones could have been hiding down there. He had been wrong.

Sam and Bobby had successfully managed to locate the bones and burn them. A simple salt 'n burn. The small graveyard hiding out back had been relatively easy for them to find. And now, everything was over. Everyone was safe.

Other than the small wound on her arm, she was fine. The cut has been hidden by her flannel so that her father hadn't seen it. Now that the adrenaline had faded the pain had increased. It was only a small wound though. She had already taken a few Ibuprofen pills for it.

That didn't stop Dean from fussing over her.

She was sitting on the ledge of the sink in the motels tiny bathroom, Dean stood in between her legs. She had discarded her flannel and long sleeve shirt earlier, leaving her in a tank top.

Dean poured antiseptic over a piece of gauze before wiping it over the wound. The sudden burning sensation made her eyes water. She suddenly understood why her father always made her stay in the motel.

"Shit, shit. I'm sorry. This won't take long," Dean said quickly. He tried to get this done as quickly as possible without doing anything incorrectly.

As Dean cleaned the cut, he racked his brain for ways to distract her from the pain. He leaned in a bit closer, one hand resting on her upper thigh. He still hasn't addressed his feelings for her.

Kissing her in the apple orchard had been one of the best days of his life. His lips connected with hers had just felt right. He couldn't say that about much. With how hectic his life was, nothing felt right anymore. It wasn't like that with her.

"Does it need stitches?" She asked Dean, around eye level with him since she was sitting on the counter.

Dean chuckled, "No, don't worry about that."

She nodded as he grabbed the roll of bandages. He wasted no time in quickly bandaging up her arm, making sure that it wasn't too tight.

Now that she wasn't so distracted by the pain, Dean's proximity made her heart race. He was so close to her that it made her cheeks heat slightly. A light pink blush creeped up on her neck.

"Something got you flustered?" Dean asked in that stupid velvety voice of his that made her melt.

"Obviously," She mumbled under her breath.

Dean placed his other hand on her thigh too. His gaze finally met hers. Their eyes met and it felt like they couldn't control themselves. Dean's lips quickly connected with hers. The two fell into a rather familiar pattern.

One of her arms wrapped around his neck. She threaded her fingers through his short hair. He groaned into the kiss whenever she gave a slight tug. The kiss didn't last long before she pulled away breathlessly.

"I want this to mean something," She said quietly to Dean. Now it was her turn to make his cheeks turn red.

Dean responded just like she had thought that he would. He pulled away even further and stated at her, jaw slack. It was no secret that he had a tiny bit of commitment issues. But, over the past year, ever since that day in the apple orchard, things had been different.

"I-I don't know," Dean said finally. He didn't believe that she actually wanted that, wanted to be with him. There would be obstacles. Neither one of their dads would approve.

"Dean, I've given you a year!" She said a little bit loudly. She quickly lowered her voice so that Sam would not hear anything she said. "You don't get to kiss me in the motel, and then act like we don't mean anything to each other."

Dean stepped back, considering her words. He didn't want to lose her. If he was being honest with himself the thought absolutely terrified him. She meant a lot to him, more than he would ever be able to admit.

"Okay," he said. "I want to be with you... but your dad might shoot me, no, your dad will shoot me if he finds out." Dean ran a hand through his hair, fixing it from where she had mused it.

She moved forward, letting her feet hit the floor as she left the counter top. She moved until she stood directly in front of him. One of her hands gently caressed his cheek.

"I never said that I wanted my dad finding out."

Dean leaned down, letting their lips connect once again. This kiss was different than the last. It was more desperate, more needy. Dean invaded every single one of her senses. All she could feel was Dean's hands roaming her body, all she could smell was his aftershave, all she could do was grasp at his shirt, her fingers wrapping around the cotton fabric.

Deans lips moved to her neck, lightly suckling on her soft skin. He was careful not to leave any makes that wouldn't be covered by a t-shirt. He lightly dragged his teeth a ross the skin below her collarbone, his lips never leaving her skin.

She had begun to lift his shirt up whenever she was interrupted. A loud knock on the door made her and Dean jump apart from each other in shock.

"Are you two almost done in there?" Sam called out impatiently. "Hurry up already! I need to take a shower." Sam had tried getting to the bathroom first, Dean had kicked him out though. The older Winchester had claimed that fixing up the wound would only take a few minutes. It had been a lot longer than just a few minutes.

Sam was covered in dirt from helping Bobby dig up the grave, and he smelled like a campfire. He had began to knock on the bathroom door again whenever it flew open.

A pissed off looking Dean walked out.

She followed behind him. She gave Sam a sheepish smile before following after Dean. Sam rolled his eyes before walking into the bathroom. He didn't have enough time to question what they had been doing. He was tired of their antics.

She had sat down on her bed, Dean had sat next to her. Her face literally up as his hand rested on her knee. The two began chatting about how the hunt had went, and well, they might have exchanged a few quick kisses. Getting caught by Sam wouldn't be pleasant.

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blueteller · 8 months

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TCF Theory: What If God of Death Had a Reason for Kidnapping Minors?

(Hey, @murasaki-cha, I might have a theory that could sorta maybe redeem your pathetic little meow meow! 😂)

[Also: SPOILER WARNING for... basically everything in TCF?]

So, here's the thing:

It's no secret I always had… issues with the God of Death for kidnapping the Chois.

Let me clarify a bit.

What he did to Kim Rok Soo, aka. Cale, was not okay either – however! I can see it justified somewhat by circumstances: he was cursed, his life was generally depressing and terrible, and there was a world in need of saving. Honestly, the deal with the Original Cale Henituse to switch the two of them was best for all parties involved. (I'm still angry he did not ask Cale himself for permission, though! All the God of Death needed to do was tell him: "Look, this is the world where your BFF Lee Soo Hyuk reincarnated into. And the world is going to be destroyed in about 20 years if nothing is done about it. Would you mind cleaning that up for me?" You bet your butt Cale would have agreed fair and square, even if he were EXTREMELY miffed about the deal. But it's so much easier to simply hide your involvement in the transmigration, so that Cale doesn't have a personal vendetta against you once he gets OP, right…? Not that it succeeded, lol. Cale still ended up cursing the God of Death a lot)

However – all of what I just said? NONE of it applied for the Choi family member.

First, we have Choi Jung Gun, aka. Nelan Barrow. Let me remind you, the kid was FIFTEEN. Freaking 15!!!! The God of Death kidnapped a literal CHILD with no combat experience, and dropped him in the middle of an active war zone! Sure, technically Super Rock was there and presumably took care of him – but still, that was an objectively a terrible thing to do, God of Death! Bad boy!! 🧹🧹🧹

Then we have Choi Han, and ohhh boy, he had even worse somehow! Even though he was 2 years older than Choi Jung Gun when he got transported, he still ended up in the freaking FOREST OF DARKNESS. Weaponless, isolated, under constant threat of death. It's a miracle Choi Han did not die or completely lose his mind – and in a sense he did – but he was still able to retain a piece of himself, NO THANKS TO YOU GOD OF DEATH. My goodness! What a way to treat your "chosen hero ", mister!

...as you can probably tell, I was pissed enough at the God of Death for kidnapping poor Choi Jung Gun, but I am NEVER forgiving him for what Choi Han went thought. Should have given him something! A letter, a sword, or at the very least – A FREAKING MAP!!!

Aaaand finally we have Choi Jung Soo. Which was a bizarre case in comparison to the previous two. Even the God of Death remarked how unusual it was.

First of all, consent was asked – WHAT A TWIST! 🤣

Secondly, Choi Jung Soo was already an adult, and experienced fighter. He'd have a much better time in Nameless 1 world than any of his predecessors (excluding the fact that he'd have a TERRIBLE time trying to fight the White Star; who may I remind you possessed Kim Rok Soo's face... Also, did he even get to read "The Birth of a Hero"...?). He was also on the verge of death. AND he allowed to say no!! It was much more fair than what happened to the other two.

...But why though? Why the special treatment, God of Death? Why not kidnap Choi Jung Soo as a kid as well? The timing was kind of strange.

So here my theory comes in.

What if, it wasn't the God of Death who determined the timing of the transportation? What if there was an outside factor involved? Just because there seemingly wasn't a strict pattern to WHEN the Chois got transported, that doesn't mean there couldn't be one.

An outside factor like, let's say.... the Hunters? 🤔

From his behaviour in the Sloth Test, we know that Choi Jung Gun absolutely hates the Hunters. And it seemed very personal too. Even if we take it for granted that the Hunters were responsible for the existence of the Original White Star and the war and all that... It was still VERY personal. Like, "I will tear you to bloody pieces with my bare hands and chew on them with my teeth" level of personal. So, what gives?

Then it hit me.

The Five Colored Bloods Hunters are Wanderers who can freely travel across dimensions. They targeted young Kim Rok Soo, because he had a "mark" of the God of Death on. They assumed it could be a sign of a Single Lifer, and it did not matter to them if it necessary to kill him just to "check". The only reason why Kim Rok Soo survived was because Choi Jung Gun was there (even though I have issues about his execution – using a minor as BAIT?! Not cool man! Almost as bad as the God of Death!). Without him, young Kim Rok Soo absolutely would have been killed. And the way Choi Jung Gun was acting in the Sloth Test made it seem like it wasn't the first time something like this happened either.

Meaning: the Hunters were already on Earth 1. They have been there.

So, what if... the Hunters had already targeted the Chois in the past? Including Choi Jung Gun himself?

Think about it. If the Hunters had any clue that this particular lineage could produce Single Lifers... they'd certainly keep an eye on the Choi family, right? There would be no need to directly interfere. Just, watching them from the sidelines and let them produce next generations. Spying on their kids – like the total creeps they are.

And perhaps, there was a particular sign of a potential Single Lifer to watch out for, that could manifest around adolescence? What if Choi Jung Gun showed such a sign at the age of 15?

Instead of simply using him as a weapon to save another world... was the God of Death actually trying to save Choi Jung Gun? By transporting him into another dimension??

It would... kinda make sense, right? By transporting Choi Jung Gun, his "Single Lifer power" activated. His lifespan became much longer, he developed an Ancient Power too. He was initially weak, but he grew stronger overtime. Strong enough to stand up to the Hunters and protect himself; and also taking him away from their immediate reach.

...What if the same happened with Choi Han? What if Choi Han became a target at the age of 17? And the only way to save him was to transport him as well? I mean it worked with Choi Jung Gun, why not try it a second time? If the first one became a powerful ally who could fight the Hunters, the God of Death would certainly like another one on his payroll, right?

And then there's Choi Jung Soo, of course. Maybe he escaped the scrutiny of the Hunters? Or maybe because he developed powers which made him a harder target? Why would the Hunters bother with difficult opponents when they can always play dirty and go after literal children, instead? There is also the issue of the Monster Apocalypse, as Cale suspects the Hunters were behind it as well. Maybe the Hunters had a different plan for Earth 1, and so they had to stop using it as hunting grounds for Single Lifers?

If I'm right about this, then the God of Death's actions became a liiiiitle bit more understandable.

I will forever criticize the man for not asking at least three of his victims (and don't try to give me some bull about him being "unable to", God of Death used various means to communicate through the story; Choi Jung Gun even freaking wrote "The Birth of a Hero" books for the sole purpose of giving necessary exposition to a transmigrator – more than that, if he had enough space to simp for Whales and provide Harol's backstory for no reason! He could have included ANY type of message in there, to ANYONE!), but if Choi Jung Gun were to literally die if he did not get kidnapped and transported into a war-torn dimension in need of saving... Well? Saving someone's life via transmigration might be unconventional, but I've seen it happen a lot in many isekai. I can roll with this.

...But seriously tho, I hope Choi Jung Gun makes that broom beating a regular thing. The God of Death certainly can use it. You know – for emotional intelligence improvement! 😏

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of count's family #god of death #tcf god of death #theory #tcf theory #tcf meta

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defectivevillain · 4 months

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until it doesn't hurt

pairing: Bruce Banner/Reader

reader’s pronouns: they/them

the reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors are used.

summary: “I could’ve caused you irreversible harm,” Bruce says. It’s almost a practiced recitation at this point, and you have to wonder if he truly believes that—or if he’s just been conditioned by everyone around him to believe he is only capable of inflicting pain. “You didn’t,” you maintain, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bruce is so caught up in the hypotheticals that he refuses to see the success right in front of him: the fact that he didn’t so much as lay a finger on you.

word count: 2.9k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence

Being an Avenger means you have to be ready for anything at all times. That spontaneity is difficult to adjust to at first, but as time passes, you grow used to it. You grow used to sleeping lightly; to stashing weapons just about anywhere you can keep them; to having few restful days and many restless ones. The moment your powers manifested, you knew you would be a hero: not because you wanted to be one, but because it would be your responsibility to protect those who needed protecting.

You weren’t always an Avenger. At first, you were just a rogue—kind of a vigilante. But then the attack on New York happened—Loki happened—and everything flew out the window. Suddenly, you were out on the street in broad daylight, trying your best to keep the civilians safe. That was how you crashed into Iron Man of all people. You exchanged banter and insults, but when it came down to it, you protected him, and he protected you. And Tony is extremely persistent—it didn’t take long for him to sink his claws into you and drag you back to the Avengers Tower.

From there, you gradually get to know the other Avengers. Steve and Clint are relatively friendly right off the bat. Natasha is a bit more difficult—you have to earn her trust before she starts to open up to you. But eventually, somehow, you manage to bond with all of the other occupants of the Tower. At least, all of them except Bruce Banner.

Bruce is an interesting case. He almost immediately dismissed you when Tony first introduced you, instead deigning to focus on his experiments. You hadn’t taken offense to Bruce’s reclusive behavior, nor had you taken the hint that he didn’t want to get to know you. Instead, you had all but forced him to acknowledge you. This manifested in a multitude of ways: from going out of your way to talk to him to offering to help with his research. Bruce is extremely protective of his laboratory, but somehow he deemed you capable enough to serve as his laboratory assistant. You were more than content to hand him capsules and adjust minor things, while he did the brunt of the work. You took the gifted opportunities to attempt to get to know him better. At first, it was like speaking to a brick wall. But somewhere along the way, his cold and uncaring façade began to crack. You slowly worked your way up to meaningless small talk—and, later, casual conversation.

Truthfully, you really enjoy spending time with Bruce. But he’s rather unpredictable—sometimes he’ll push you away, and other times he’ll play along. You know that he has a lot of baggage—what with his childhood and his alter-ego. You’ve been trying to convince him that you care about him—that you’re not going to abandon him or villainize him—but he doesn’t ever seem to believe you. He always conducts himself with some semblance of suspicion and doubt; it almost seems like he’s waiting for you to wake up to reality and run away screaming.

Still, progress is progress—no matter how slow. You’re happy with how you’ve slowly bonded with him, and you can only hope that there’s more on the horizon for the both of you.

…You never consider the possibility that something could happen to make things worse—to destroy your progress and send you right back to the start.

“We need you for something.”

You’re brutally torn from your reverie, forced to slowly come back to yourself. You’re sitting in the living room, staring ahead at the blank wall. How long have you been sitting here? All you know is that it’s no longer light outside, and that Natasha is standing in front of you with a firm expression.

“I- what?” You stammer, still processing what’s happening. “Nat-”

“It’s important,” she says. You get to your feet before she can continue speaking. “Trust me.” You do trust her. Natasha isn’t one for over-exaggeration or dramatics; when she says something is important, she means it. And the grave expression on her face is only worrying you more. You follow after her as she walks down the hall and towards the elevators. The two of you step into the space and she presses a button, before the elevator slowly rises.

In hindsight, perhaps you should’ve been a bit more suspicious. Why would she be taking you to another floor in the Tower? Typically, when there’s a new development or an imminent threat, you’ll be directed to another location—either to combat the threat or to strategize. Furthermore, there’s a strained silence in the air between Natasha and you. Nat’s shoulders are drawn tight and she’s staring ahead pointedly, as if avoiding your eyes.

The elevator dings and you breathe an internal sigh of relief, hoping to get rid of this needless tension. But before you can begin to take a step, you’re being roughly shoved out of the elevator and into the hallway. It takes you several moments to get your bearings—at which point you recognize the telltale sounds of the doors behind you closing, and the elevator dropping back down to where you came. You stare at the closed doors in disbelief, before turning to look back down the hall. One of the recreational rooms is straight ahead, and you hear yelling.

Once you’re standing in the doorway, you’re able to place the inexplicable noises you were hearing. Bruce is in his Hulk form, green and raging as he throws anything within his grasp at the walls around him. You’re willing to bet Natasha brought you here to do something about this. Why she thinks you’re the best person to calm Bruce down, you’re not sure.

“Bruce,” you say slowly. Bruce promptly freezes, an exercise machine lifted over his head. He stares down at you; you stare up at him. He’s momentarily distracted by you. “It’s okay.” He’s silent. You hold your hands out at your sides in mock surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you,” you continue. “You’re safe.”

Silence. You take a slow breath. The machine he’s holding over his head drops a fraction of an inch.

“It’s okay, Bruce.” You repeat, pushing as much conviction into your voice as you can. Your effort seems to work, as his eyebrows furrow. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence as the two of you stare at each other. Then, his visage shifts and you’re suddenly looking at Bruce Banner—disheveled and exhausted.

“Are you alright-?” You’re compelled to ask. The scientist is back in human form, wearing nothing but a tattered pair of pants; bruises and scratches litter his skin; and there’s a distant expression on his face. He seems to snap out of his trance when he hears your voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bruce then spits. You immediately flinch at the unexpected anger. “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?” His gaze is flitting about the room quickly, before settling on you with fevered intensity. You’ve never seen Bruce look so irate before. He’s a remarkably composed man (although you suspect he bottles up anger and rage and lets it out in bursts as the Hulk). Indeed, this kind of fury is typical for the Hulk, but exceedingly rare for Bruce.

“I didn’t-” You choke out helplessly, glancing back at the hall and, by extension, the elevator. “They-” It’s inexplicably difficult for you to get the words out.

“That was our doing.” A voice confesses from behind you. You turn around to find Nat and Tony standing behind you. The two of them approach and come to a stop at your side.

Bruce’s gaze locks on them with fiery focus. He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His glasses are nowhere to be seen—he must’ve dropped them somewhere as he transformed. “I expected better from both of you.”

“Bruce-” Tony tries to say, an apologetic expression on his face.

“What on earth made you think that throwing them out as bait was a good idea?” Bruce interjects furiously, motioning towards you. “You could’ve gotten them seriously injured!” He exclaims. Tony has the good grace to look embarrassed; Nat is staring ahead with a flat expression and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Bruce, I’m fine-” You try to say, quickly growing uncomfortable with the tension settling in the air.

“I could’ve harmed you,” Bruce is quick to assert. “Easily.” His voice is cold.

“But you didn’t,” you maintain. He’s not giving himself enough credit. More troubling is the idea that he has faith in his own cruelty—that he only sees himself as capable of harming someone. You don’t know what else to say, don’t know what could possibly be said to repair the evident years of damage done to this man’s psyche. The entire world has treated him as a weapon at best and an uncontrollable, irredeemable monster at worst.

“That doesn’t matter,” Bruce says with unshakeable certainty. He retreats from the room, leaving you to stare after him in confusion and shock. You turn to face Natasha and Tony, who are both staring at the doorway with complex looks.

You want to tell them off, but the words that leave your lips are far different than you intend them to be. “Should I go after him?” You ask instead. Bruce is the primary concern right now—you can chew Tony and Nat out later. You’ve known him for a bit now, and have grown to interpret his expressions fairly easily. You’ve seen Bruce express a lot of emotions… but the look on his face just now is completely foreign to you.

“Probably,” Tony admits.

“I don’t think we should,” Natasha says, motioning towards Tony and herself. “He’s mad at us. And… rightfully so.” She exchanges a glance with Tony, whose lips are pressed in a thin line. It’s clear they didn’t give enough thought to their whole plan.

“You’ll be fine, though,” Tony says with unfounded conviction. Nat places a hand on your shoulder and grips it reassuringly. You take a deep breath and come to a decision, walking down the hall and towards the elevator doors.

Moments later, you’re walking out of the lift and down the dim hallway leading to Bruce’s bedroom. He’s entirely alone on this floor of the tower. You pause in front of his door for a few seconds, wondering if you should walk away. But you can’t. Instead, you knock on the door four times. “Bruce?” You ask. Despite the clear sturdiness of the door, he’s able to hear you.

“Go away.” Bruce responds. His voice is a little muffled, and you have to strain to hear him.

You’re hurt for the briefest of moments. Then you shelve the feeling and resolve yourself to tackling it later. “I’m coming in,” you announce, placing your hand against the scanner at the edge of the doorway. The scanner flashes green and the door slides open, revealing Bruce’s bedroom. You’ve never been here before. It’s modestly decorated, with mostly monotone shades. Nothing particularly strikes you, save for the giant desk in the corner of the room. Papers litter the entire surface of the desk, and a few are covered by Bruce’s arms.

The man doesn’t look up as you approach. “I don’t want to see you,” Bruce says. His back is turned and you’re unable to see his expression.

“I don’t care,” you respond, taking a few steps into the space until you’re a short (yet seemingly insurmountable) distance from Bruce. He’s sitting at his desk, rubbing his hands over his eyes roughly. It doesn’t take long for you to remember your guilt. “Bruce, I don’t want you to torture yourself over this.” Maybe you shouldn’t have interfered in the first place.

“I could’ve caused you irreversible harm,” Bruce says. It’s almost a practiced recitation at this point, and you have to wonder if he truly believes that—or if he’s just been conditioned by everyone around him to believe he is only capable of inflicting pain.

“You didn’t,” you maintain, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bruce is so caught up in the hypotheticals that he refuses to see the success right in front of him: the fact that he didn’t so much as lay a finger on you.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Bruce says with a shake of his head. He pushes himself out of his chair and gets to his feet, turning around to face you. Your eyes widen as you notice the torn expression on his face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the determination written in every line of his form. “My eyes locked onto you and, for a split second, I envisioned harming you. Deliberately.” The confession clings to the air like a vice.

“But you didn’t act on that impulse,” you assert. “You suppressed it.”

“So?” Bruce argues. “I still had the urge. You should be disgusted, afraid-”

“I’m not afraid of you, Bruce,” you interrupt. The statement lingers heavily in the air between the two of you. For a long moment, there’s nothing but the faint hum you’ve grown to associate with the Tower itself.

“You should be,” Bruce then mutters. And suddenly he’s standing in front of you, staring at you with a dark gaze. His fists are clenched at his sides and you see his skin flicker with shades of green, before it returns to normal. The man maneuvers you to the side and shoves you, until you’re hitting the wall behind you. Bruce’s hands move up to your shirt collar and he clenches at it, his fingers almost spasming as he tightens his grip. You just stare at him. “I could ruin you.” He murmurs, so quietly that you have to strain to hear it.

You want to argue with him so badly, but that strategy hasn’t been working so far. For some reason, Bruce has convinced himself that he not only has the capacity to hurt you, but that he wants to. You know that can’t be true, but how can you convince him? If he thinks he can ruin you… “Then do it,” you challenge him. He meets your eyes once more and you stare back unflinchingly, trying to convey how much you trust him.

If you thought the tension was suffocating before, it’s practically ripping the breath from your lungs now. Everything around you seems to fade into obscurity. All you can see is Bruce; all you can feel is Bruce. His fingers twitch and his grip falls from your collar. For an awful moment, you think he’s going to walk away—turn his back on you as he has done so many times before. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans closer. If he’s trying to get you to back down, then it isn’t working.

At first, you want to think that Bruce is testing you. But the way he’s regarding you right now—with glittering desire in his eyes—makes you think otherwise. His hands move from the wall to your shoulders, back to the nape of your neck, until he gently tugs you forward. It’s hardly a strong pull, and you understand the choice he’s giving you.

But, you think fondly, there was never much of a choice. From the moment you locked eyes with him, you knew he would dominate your thoughts. And indeed, he has. You think about the hard-won look of approval in his eyes when you make an astute observation; the way he almost frantically looks across the battlefield, his posture instantly relaxing once he sees you; the contradictions written all over his skin; the rare smiles you feel privileged to see.

You lean forward and press your lips to his. Bruce is quick to reciprocate, his hands lingering at the nape of your neck before slipping down to your waist. You lock your arms around his shoulders, practically trapping him in your embrace. But from the strength of his grip, you can ascertain that the gesture is more than welcome.

Later, when you break apart, Bruce has a disbelieving expression on his face. He looks slightly dazed, as if suspicious of the reality he now finds himself in. You grasp his wrist gently.

“You can’t get rid of me, Bruce,” You murmur insistently, “...no matter how hard you try.”

He stares at you for another long moment. “And I have tried,” Bruce admits through a dry huff. You want to be offended by the comment, but you know it’s true. Bruce is stupidly self-sacrificing—he purposefully keeps his distance from people to protect them. But the reality of the situation is that people will come to harm regardless of his presence. “But you’re too stubborn.” That statement is spoken with a significant amount of fondness, and his hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You bring your hand up to rest on top of his.

“I’ll always be here, even when you don’t want me to be.” You promise. And maybe that promise isn’t yours to make, because one can never truly predict what will come next. But somehow, deep down, you know it to be true.

Bruce brings you close once more, an uncharacteristic note of boldness in the fluid movement. When you step back moments later, you find that he has a hint of a smile on his face. “I know,” Bruce says, the traces of apprehension on his face breaking and cracking to reveal a rare sight: unrestrained affection.

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