#and he starts thinking about how it would feel waking up beside you or plunging his cock into you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satoruhour · 9 months

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SEVEN DAYS A WEEK !

a/n: if u saw my post b4 — no u didnt. n*sfw under the cut

wc: 3.1k

✶ MONDAY

(somnophilia, oral / cunnilingus, pussy slapping, fingering, clit stimuation, implied overstim)

“start of the work week, huh?” gojo’s hands are slow on your sleeping form, trailing from your chest to your thighs, kneading at it as he pulls away from your embrace gently. he can’t help but place small kisses along your skin, manoeuvring you onto your back. it’s cute how you naturally spread your legs for him. “need to show my darlin’ how much i’ll miss her tomorrow.”

he’s mumbling to no one, admiring your peaceful form in the early morning that hasn’t even bared the sun yet, getting a whiff of your scent before he’s tracing a finger over your thighs. he brings his finger closer to your cunt, a wet spot already formed on the fabric; satoru slyly smiles — you always get wet easily in the morning.

peeling away your underwear, his breath fans over your needy pussy and gojo doesn’t miss the way you twitch. he blows a little at your core, smiling when you whine and shift in your sleep, and it’s reason enough for him to dig in. he licks a slow stripe from bottom to top, collecting your slick on his tongue, your legs opening to get more of him.

slowly, gojo sucks at your clit, breathing through his nose while he takes his rightful place between your legs, eyes occasionally flicking up to catch the moment you’re waking up. but when you do, it’s with soft whimpers and languid pleas, words slurring as you come to find satoru slobbering over your pussy. your hands unconsciously fly to his hair, moaning loudly when he hums into your sex.

“feel good?” gojo murmurs, a hand teasing the skin beside your sensitive areas before he’s plunging a finger into you. he groans at how your walls wrap around his lone finger, increasing his ministrations by the second when you whimper out s’good that it’s got him mindlessly eating you out, letting out moans now and then from how you tug on his hair.

he’s got you cumming easily when he inserts a second, back arching with whispers of satoru on your lips, and you think he’s going to have some mercy unlike other mondays, but your head sinks deeper into the pillow when gojo starts to lap at your dripping cunt again, sensitivity at its peak when he laughs into your core.

“it’s the start of a new week,” satoru chuckles when he lands a few wet smacks on your pussy and your body shakes with the impact, “gotta be sure my baby knows how much she’s loved.”

✶ TUESDAY

(phone sex, m masturbation, gojo has the hots for your voice, dirty talk)

it was a day-long mission for gojo, sent to hokkaido in the late morning that within an hour of him leaving, you’re already texting him and making jokes that remain unanswered and you’re left to your own devices until the evening comes around that you get a call.

“didn’t they say the curse would come out at night?” you mumble, mindlessly stirring the soup in the pot while satoru on the line just sighs. you think it’s fatigue, but it’s entirely different on gojo’s end. he explains how the curse never attacked at night in the first place — the ability to create a mini veil was all it took for you to understand. the villagers think it’s night, while they’re left vulnerable in the daytime that they think they’re safe in.

you huff, wanting to ask more but you’re cut off by satoru who asks about your day and who seems… strangely winded. “ well, if you really wanna know…” your voice trails off when you’re telling him what went on today, hearing the other get progressively breathy on the other end.

“’toru? you okay?” maybe he was in the mission right now, fighting with you on the line, but that’s out of the picture when a soft moan leaves his mouth.

you see, satoru was a filthy guy, obsessed with the way you spoke that he just had to pull out his cock that’s half-hard when you talked on about that annoying neighbour who hung his laundry in your side of the flat, or even how you put too much sugar in the soup despite gojo not being there. the cadence of your voice, paired with your sweet words.

“yeah? and then what happened?” he’s shamelessly asks you with a breathy whimper, hands squeezing around his cock so warmly he wishes it was yours. you didn’t even hear the zip of his pants but you’re switching off the stove instantly, listening at the edge of your seat to the slick wet noises that increase in frequency.

“and then i’ll talk until my cute boyfriend cums like a little virgin,” you giggle when he groans into the receiver at having been found out, fist moving faster around his cock until it’s the only thing you can hear. it’s so attractive, having gojo satoru fucking his hand in some hokkaido hotel, beads of sweat probably dripping down his head at not having you there.

“wish this was your mouth, baby…” gojo whines out, a mixture of “fuck’s” and your name flooding the line and you’re just telling him what else you’d do to him, maybe i’ll swirl my tongue ’round your tip, ’toru, take your cock all the way down my throat, hm?

you grin when all you can hear is the still of his fist and a loud, sultry moan on the other end. ah, you loved it.

✶ WEDNESDAY

(69-ing, oral (m and f receiving), clit stimulation, calls u ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, fingering, deepthroating, cumming down throat)

“filthy slut, hm?” you’re rolling your eyes, tugging on the dick in your hand while gojo just yelps, laughing in surrender. “okay, okay, i’ll shut up and eat my girl’s pussy like she deserves it.” even when you go back to stroking his still hardening cock, your lover is admiring the leak of your juices from your cunt, dripping so viscously onto his chest.

“satoru, it’s not going to eat i—” gojo always liked to pull you in, and then make you speechless instantly after. he spreads your cheeks, tugging your pelvis towards his mouth, “ooh, shit…” all you can hear are the muffled chuckles of the other, moans cutting past his messy eating habits when your fist start to pump his cock again. you thumb his tip, collecting the pre-cum.

you do exactly as you told him last night, circling your tongue around his weeping tip and his hands tighten on your ass, tongue moving from your clit to your gaping hole. you clench around nothing when gojo’s cock jolts in your mouth before your mouth descends on him and you’re bobbing your head, moaning around his length when you feel two fingers prod at your entrance.

“suckin’ me off so well, it’d be a shame if i don’t give my princess the same treatment,” gojo sighs when his fingers disappears in you, knowing you like it when you go slack around his dick and your tongue stops, struggling to keep a right mind when he’s got his thick, long fingers in you. “yeah… i know a little whore like you loves this.”

he starts to thrust his fingers into you, holding down your hips that start to move. he tuts, “ah. keep it movin’, baby.”

you grunt at his incessant teasing, mouth getting to work again as you start to inch him into your mouth, breathing through your nose when you’re up to his hilt and his pubes are all up in your face. you’re coming off to whimper when he angles his fingers downwards and his tongue is back on you, not stopping the squeeze of your hand on his shaft as you drool from the corners of your mouth, eyes rolling back when you feel his hips thrust lightly into you.

“that’s it, sweetness…” gojo moans around your pussy, blissed out from how warm and wet your mouth is, along with the way your pussy looks right in front of him, surprising you with a squeal when his hips impatiently snap into your mouth, cumming with a fervour and loud moans against your slick skin, pumping your throat full of his cum. you hum around him, letting his thick load warm your insides before you’re pulling off of him with a sigh, smiling at the way his tip still manages to push out its last drops.

your small triumph is interrupted by gojo who adds a third finger and he hisses when your hand tightens around his cock, “your turn, b-baby.”

✶ THURSDAY

(riding, sorta sub!gojo, implied multiple rounds, overstim, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink)

“baby—” gojo whines out, fatigued from the week of missions and classes that he feels like his body could collapse, but you’re energetic as always, having cummed two times yet your hips still continue to grind onto his pelvis like a minx. there’s already a translucent ring of cum around the base of his cock, and while you love the cum he’s pumped into you, you’re just sooo needy tonight — the pure pleasure on satoru’s face and his shivering hands are just the cherry on top.

“g-god, shit,” satoru moans out, even when he’s grabbing at your thighs to stop, there’s the unmistakable humps of his hips because his cum sticks to your skin and dribbles out of your pussy so sweetly he can’t help but fixate on it.

“’toru— feel so fucking good—!” the way your ass bounces against his pelvis sends him reeling, the ability for words lost to the way your cunt wraps around him like a cocksleeve; all he can manage are guttural groans leaving his mouth while he lets you use him to the brink.

“g’nna cum, satoru?” you mumble, body dripping with sweat as your hips start to falter, “gimme all your cum, baby boy.”

satoru whimpers at that, roaming hands feeling around your body that settle for your tits, squeezing while yours tug on his hair. your cunt just feels too good that he thrusts up to meet you too, reaching so deep into you that you’re cumming.

the clench around his length has gojo shooting his hot cum inside you, whining out your name while he pumps your pussy full of a third load and you’re trembling from the feeling. you can only giggle drunkenly, leaving a whimpering satoru to hold down your hips that continues to grind on his sensitive cock.

✶ FRIDAY

gojo likes paybacks, especially now when he’s got your face shoved into the kitchen sink of a private showroom, checking out just the right height to fuck you on and eat you out from. his cursed energy easily messes with the security cameras, and he’s locked out the staff with convincing words and a sweet smile, all so he could shut you up with his cock.

“s-satoru— what if they see—” despite your words (gojo likes to fuck the voice of reasoning out of you) you’re moaning while you’re moving back onto him, a hand clutching onto his forearm with pussy clenching around him.

“like you give a shit,” gojo breathlessly says, relishing in the line down the middle of your back, your arch, how your ass bounces with each thrust. “think we should go with a quartz countertop?”

of course he’d ask stupid questions while balls deep in you, “it’s expensive— oh, fuck! stop spending your money so—”

you slouch against the counter on a deep thrust, a loud mewl leaving your lips, nails digging into his forearm and he has the audacity to hiss while he’s the one who’s fucking you in a goddamn showroom.

“quartz, it is,” satoru only laughs and you’re ashamed to admit that it turns you on, having so much control over you that you clamp down on his length again and gojo groans softly, reaching around your front to rub your clit, pressing the nub into you like he knows the buttons that just make you twitch. the way the sorcerer rams into you is too much and you need both hands to support you, cringing a little when your nails scratch the finishing on the countertop.

“haaah… gonna fill you up, baby—” gojo mumbles out to no one, the circles on your clit turning erratic and your legs spread to take more of him, feeling the wave of your orgasm crash down on you the same time gojo cums in you, cum so thick and much that when he pulls himself out it drips out your cunt and onto the floor.

you two look to the floor and back at each other, stifling a laugh before you’re cleaning up, yelping when gojo lands a hard smack! to your ass and wraps an arm around your waist.

he doesn’t miss the way you pick at your nails filled with flakes of the cheap counter, “let’s go find a real quartz countertop.”

✶ SATURDAY

(geto is not evil here, sharing, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, gojo’s a little jealous aw :(, protected sex w/ geto, praise)

“was this what you had in mind?” your lover asks, cooing at your cries and nods as he stays fully clothed, littering kisses along your neck and jaw. your back was against his chest, causing you to brush up against the uncomfortable tent in his pants, but he’s able to hold himself back for now when he’s enjoying the way his best friend eats you out.

“she tastes good, doesn’t she?” gojo calls out from behind you, helping the other by spreading your legs while the other goes around your waist, a possessive hand around you to tell the dark-haired sorcerer that you’re his. geto only could hum into your pussy, and you note it’s a little different from how satoru eats you out. you weren’t entirely a stranger to your boyfriend’s best friend, but this was the first time you’ve been spread apart so filthily in front of him.

you’re nodding after two orgasms later when they both ask you if you’re okay, geto’s tip waiting at your entrance before he pushes himself slowly into you, tensing against the sheer girth of the other. where gojo was slimmer and longer, geto was a little thicker, and gojo feels just a little pull on his heart when he sees your jaw drop.

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he softly praises, locking eyes with his best friend when he sinks into your warmth. it’s not long before he’s swallowing your pleas as geto starts to move, the kiss lewd as gojo slips his tongue into your mouth, mumbling praises when the other sets a comfortable pace.

“she takes a cock so well,” the dark-haired man says breathlessly while gojo focuses on the way his best friend fucks into you, the pussy he knows like the back of his hand sucking the other in so nicely that it’s even a blessing geto gets to see it. he can feel your juices seep past his pants, hearing a soft pant of satoru when his hands come to rest at your tits, pinching your nipples lightly. suguru grunts at the way you clamp down on him, too lost in the tightness of your cunt to notice how you’re mainly focused on gojo and your love for him.

“good girl,” satoru only mutters into your skin, locking eyes with you when his hand finds your clit. he knows you know you belong to him when he watches your eyes flutter close, “that’s a good girl f’r me.”

✶ SUNDAY

(spitting, morning sex, praise, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, finger sucking, gojo loves u a lot!)

“hey, satoru,” you hum, waking up with a familiar ache in your core that you knew only gojo could quell. his best friend was gone by the morning, leaving just the both of you on his king-sized. “are you awake?”

gojo stirs and softly whispers an i’m awake now, cracking his eyes open, not before needing to take a minute to just admire your morning stare and words. they’re always hooded and slurred, the hunger for you and jealousy from the previous night taking over him. his hands are wandering, pulling you atop him easily.

it’s not long before gojo’s slipping into you from above you, cock an angry red just from kissing you, “so tight, baby. no matter how much your pussy’s molded to fit my cock— f-fuck— you’ll still be tight as shit.”

you smile. you’ve caught wind of satoru’s feelings of green last night, confirmed when you bid goodbye to his best friend with a laugh from the other how you should treat him well this morning. wrapping your legs around his middle, you’re whining a little from how bit by bit, gojo’s bottoming out in you before he finds a slow pace, succumbing to his body weight on yours.

“satoru…s’full,” gojo’s eyes stay fixated on yours, hot breath sending your skin tingling with goosebumps while your pussy drips pure nectar, lewd sounds amplified by the slap of his hips against yours. even if he wants to go slow, gojo is insanely drunk on your gummy walls and the way they wrap snugly around his dick, ears blessed with the way you call out for him.

with a thumb, he yanks at your mouth and he softly moans at how fast you stick your tongue out. it’s an unspoken gesture, hips never stopping even as a ball of spit leaves your lover’s mouth with a gradual drag and lands on your tongue, still connected by the web of saliva that stretches until it’s all in your mouth, an attagirl lingering on his lips.

you bring his forehead to yours after, hands grasping at his hair and neck while there’s fire exchanged between his striking blue ones and yours while you’re babbling that you’ve reached your high and gojo almost tears at the way you cry out for him as you cum, at the way you try your best to hold your ground but his cock is just splitting you open so well and the intensity of your orgasm is making you tremble, at the way you’re like this for only him.

but the one sentence that sets him off, “wan’ you to cum in me, ’toru,” you’re whimpering out, arms going around him and legs closing around his hips just to get him closer to you even after you’ve cummed. you ignore the overstimulation of your climax, “breed me, baby.”

and satoru has no choice but to listen to his girl, capturing your lips right as his thrusts start to stutter and he’s cumming deep in you, moans escaping from the kiss and mewls leaving you at the gush of his cum in you, white and hot and so much of it. gojo cries into your skin as you milk him dry, clenching down around him like you don’t want to let him go.

“so much cum just f’you, princess,” satoru chokes out, feeling himself getting hard again from your pleasure-filled face, especially when he sees your juices mixing below him. he takes a hand, smearing them around your clit and he can feel his breath hitching when you grab the hand and stuff his fingers into your mouth.

you’re swirling your tongue around his fingers, voice hoarse.

“use me, satoru,” your other hand dance along his cheek and he thinks he might be blessed with a goddess’ touch, “use me until i’m full of your cum.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru

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rinhaler · 5 months

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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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aidaronan · 5 months

Note

64 for the spotify wrapped/steddie ficlet thing💕💕💕

So I guess I mixed up these two numbers and you should've gotten the Scary Kids song I used for this fill yesterday lmao So I'm actually giving you #24 because.. oops? At least I managed to actually do a ficlet this time. 64 24 Bad Omens - Death of Peace of Mind

You're in the Walls That I've Made

Tags & Warnings: Angst, spice, angst with a hopeful ending Memories come to him in dreams that won’t let go. Dreams of milky skin slick with sweat, of bodies moving together in the heat, in the cold, in every season between. Teeth sinking into skin, hands tangling in hair and tugging rough. When Eddie wakes up, he swears he can taste Steve on his lips, that he can smell his scent clinging to the pillows, that he can almost imagine that exact way he felt around him. Inside him. Beside him. Fuck, it haunts Eddie all these months later, that he had that hand in his and dared for a fucking second to let it go. But he did. Stumbling barefoot into the kitchen, he rewinds the tape in the answering machine propped up on a stack of unpacked boxes. He listens to the only saved messages. “So it’s about three in the morning and I can’t sleep,” Steve says, voice distorted by phone lines and countless replays. “I told you to go, and I love you and I… I want you to go is the thing. I want you to get out, and I want the whole world to know Eddie Munson can shred or whatever. I want you to be happy, fuck, Eds. I do. But…” There’s a long pause that drags on, filled only by dead air and the quiet mechanical sound of the reels spinning. “But I-” Then the beep of the message cutting off. Eddie counts the seconds before the next message starts. He could mouth along to every word now, match every little rise and fall in Steve’s voice. Every frantic syllable. “I don’t know how to… I want you to go, but I also want to nail your feet to the goddamned floor, you know? Eddie, I can’t. I can’t— ” Steve chokes on his words. “I guess it’s three in the morning so I can pretend it was sleep deprivation or whatever that made me say something so selfish right now but…” Another pause. Click, click, whir. An inhale Eddie can hear even on the tinny tape. When Steve says the last three words, his voice is raspy and soft and worn.

“But don’t go.” The tape beeps again. There’s nothing new after that. Then again, there wouldn’t be. Eddie hasn’t had the phone lines hooked up yet in house he’s been building, the house with room for two. He does have electric though, at least in the kitchen. Which means he can make coffee while he thinks about the dreams. And he can lean against the unpainted cabinets and sip the coffee during the small window he has before all the contractors show up. He can also let his hand slip into his pajama pants while he stares at the framing of a half-wall leading into the living room, can close his eyes and remember counting the beauty marks on Steve’s back while he plunged into him over and over again, while he held Steve’s hips and watched the sweat ruin his perfect hair. Fucking stupid. That’s always how Eddie feels after he comes. Fucking stupid that he left. Fucking stupid that he hasn’t called, that he hasn’t told Steve he haunts him like a ghost, that he’s building this house with walls that can hold him too. Eddie wipes himself clean with a kitchen towel and scrubs a hand over his face, feeling the scarring on his jawline—proof that he can be brave. He just wishes he could remember fucking how. He changes clothes and plays the messages again, unpacking one of the boxes, putting a slew of pictures into actual honest-to-God frames. There's a picture of Eddie and Corroded before they split—half to college, half to Cali to form a new band that would eventually get Eddie build-a-house money.

There's a nice prom night 8x10 of Eddie and Chrissy after Supergirl somehow literally pulled her back from the grave. There's the Hellfire Club too in all it's 1986 glory.

Eddie fills frame after frame with memories old and new. But he saves the big collage frame for last, saves all the pictures he’d bought it for so he can put off the way they'll make him feel, so he can savor them at the same time. Even holding them tastes bittersweet on the back of his tongue.

They're all Steve. Group shots, Polaroids, photo strips from the mall. Some are with the kids, some are with the girls or the whole crew. The one Eddie fits into the slot dead center though? That’s just the two of them, casual enough Eddie won’t have to pay off any of the construction crew, or so it looks anyway. Because as casual and just-friends as he and Steve seem to be in the photo, they'd had their hands in each others' pockets behind their backs, arms crisscrossed, skin warm where they'd touched. The tip of his thumb aching, Eddie finishes bending all the little metal tabs that hold on the back of the frame, realizing as soon as it's done that he’s put the whole damn thing back together upside-down. It startles a wet laugh out of him, breaking open an ache that has never left his chest.

An ache that spills and spills, bottomless, gnawing, maddening. It takes the sharp edges of his car keys digging into his palm for him to realize he’s grabbed them. It’s a mile or so to the nearest payphone. His tires squeal on the pavement. His brain squeals in his skull. Hands shaking, he drops half his change onto the concrete, but he knows the goddamned number by heart. He dials it perfectly.

Ring.

Ring. “Hello,” Steve says, and Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the gut. For several long seconds, he thinks he might not be able to talk after all, that he got this far only to fumble it in the end. His tongue feels two sizes to large. His throat too small.

"Hello?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and squeezes his eyes shut, summoning the Eddie who once faced the hoard, who chose to die and lived. Who chose to die and loved.

When he speaks, it feels like he's trying to use muscles he hasn't used in centuries, coaxing them back into motion so he can rasp out a single sound, swift as a spear slicing through the night: “Steve.”

#steddie #fanfic #mine #spotify wrapped but make it fics

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xalicitie · 8 months

Text

Whispers — Spencer Reid (smut/fluff)

Scarlett is a young member of the BAU—contemplative, decisive and quietly cunning. Spencer Reid is a young agent as well, with a running mouth clogged with data and facts, and a clumsy charm. Over what starts as a little rumor, and a shameful dream, two agents realize there’s not as much keeping them from each other than it seems.

— This is an excerpt from a short story/fanfic I’ve been putting together for awhile. First of all: I’m alive! Yes, if anyone cares 🤩. I’m coming back with yet another fandom to write about, and it’s Criminal Minds. Tell me if u want part 2 of this (smut), or if I should release the first parts. Or maybe whatever else I should write abt😻

As soon as the marble tiles hit Spencer's feet, he knows something is up.

A moment of eye contact doesn't say anything near what it used to. Even just an hour ago, when their gazes would come together, Scarlett's warm eyes would fall curious, maybe lost. But when he's locked eyes with her, fifty feet away, her body sunken in the couch, he realizes something changed. By the way she isn't watching him, digging for answers yet quick to avert her gaze elsewhere, he can just tell. Someone said something.

It kills him. They're standing in the same room, but they're thoughts have roamed to a distance Spencer can't calculate anymore. He has no idea what's been told to her, to what degree she knows, what she thinks of him anymore?

More than anything, Spencer frankly just wants to talk to her again. He's come to the revelation, slowly, that this has come too far. It should've been their own thing, but by the heaviness of the eyes on him, he senses more people know than he'd ever warranted.

When they're waiting for hotel keys, Spencer watches the three women head upstairs to their own rooms. The team's rooms will be adjacent to each other, as they always are. Derek's on the couch, eyes shut with his headphones on, when Spencer decides he'll interrupt his leisure time.

"Derek."

Spencer comes over, shaking him to his wake.

Derek doesn't take it lightly. He jolts awake, even with as light as he was sleeping, and peers at Spencer through slitted eyes.

"What is it?" He asks, grumbling.

Spencer sits besides him, and Derek sees his panic. His hands are gesturing hastily before he can ever get a word out.

"Scarlett knows something. Did you tell someone, Derek?"

Spencer watches, wide-eyed.

He actually wasn't expecting that Derek had told anyone—he took it that maybe Emily had figured out. But, judging by the way Derek goes dead silent, still as a dead fly, he realizes he overestimated Derek's loud mouth.

"..You told Emily?!"

"Reid, I'm sorry, I-" He faces Spencer, flushed red in anger. "I'm sorry, kid."

"You had one thing to do!"

Rather boiling with hysteria and panic than anger, Spencer puts his hands to the sides of his face. He sinks into the seat beside Derek's.

Spencer's plunged in contemplation. He doesn't know exactly what she knows, but there's a chance Scarlett knows that Spencer had a sex dream of her. He, as involuntarily as he did, pictured her, bare and nude. She, his coworker. She, his best friend.

"Spencer, I shouldn't have done it."

Spencer holds his eyes back from rolling into their sockets. Of course he shouldn't have.

"She's probably disgusted."

Spencer sighs. Derek watches him, bummed to see Reid like this. Stressed and almost wretched.

"..Reid, I told you. She likes you for you, she understands."

"No, she thinks I'm a weirdo who pictured her naked—wait."

Spencer stops. Coming to a pensive pause, he faces Derek.

"Did Emily say anything about how she feels?"

Derek's brows come up, and he smirks a little, lips parting. "That's the part I didn't tell you."

Spencer comes up. His limbs animate and his brown eyes burnish, staring at Derek for an answer.

"Emily's convinced Scarlett has the exact same feelings for you."

Derek watches as Spencer comes to an amalgamation of hope and, at the same time, the exact doubt that's been plaguing him the whole day.

"Emily's convinced. But Scarlett didn't say so."

"Reid, you have to find out for yourself."

Pressing his lips, Spencer meets Derek's eyes.

"..Tonight?"

Silence permeates the space with them, and Derek wordlessly nods deliberately.

Despite everything, every instinct upraised and alert in wariness inside Spencer, he knows tonight can only work.

Yet, as soon as Spencer gets his keys, he's darting to his room and closing it shut, through the doorframe without a peek towards Scarlett's door.

He can do it another day, right? He couldn't physically bring himself to her door—there couldn't be a magnet on Earth that could pull him away from his hotel bed.

Spencer feels pathetic. But the idea of the look on her face, her soft features all ruined with disgust and judgement—he doesn't want to fathom it. He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to take any steps now. He's pacing the rug, biting his lips nervously when he quickly grabs his book from his bag. Hitting the mattress and burying his face into the words, a poor yet sufficient antidote for his raucous mind. For now.

Word after word, he forgets. Tonight, he reads slow. Sucking every word in and shielding himself from his embarrassment.

It feels like he can do this all night. He decides he’ll read, and read—move onto the next book if he has to—until he sleeps, without the worry of the decision plaguing him.

But someone has something else in mind.

Spencer had no idea how much time has passed when someone knocks on his door.

The cool, night air is ghosting, and Spencer's staring at his door.

It could be Morgan. He might be standing with a waiting expression before Spencer's door, waiting to drag him towards Scarlett's door.

Or it could be Scarlett herself.

Spencer keeps sitting on his bed dumbly, up until another knock comes.

He's tempted to stay rooted to his bed. He feels like he is. But he feels whoever's outside waiting, and with a volition he doesn't understand, he's standing. Walking over to the door, and after a few moments, he's turning the knob slowly.

Opening the door, Spencer finds his heart pounding when he sees Scarlett in front of him.

Brown hair caressing her shoulders, brown eyes staring up at him. She came over.

"Spencer."

She announces. Greets. Nothing can describe the air between them right now.

Spencer gazes down at her. She hasn't been this close since the coffee incident earlier the morning. It startles him, but having her near reminds him of the ease she used to bring him.

If it were under any other circumstances right now, he might just be able to be comfortable with her again.

He dismisses his thoughts, and decides to actually reply. ..After several moments, that is.

"Scarlett."

He barely utters out.

He can't read her. She looks like she's here for something, but it's taking her awhile to get to the point. Her gaze is wandering and quick—it almost seems she's .. about as nervous as he is?

"-Can I come in?"

Spencer's lips part ever so slightly—the smallest tell that he's relieved.

No repulsed retort, no glower. She wants to come in?

Spencer's mouth hangs open before he realizes how stupid he probably looks, shutting his lips and nodding.

Eyes hesitant, but warm, she smiles at him. Spencer watches wordlessly as her lithe body slips past him, into his hotel room.

He closes his door silently. He's staring at her back. Her hair looks weightless. He hasn't liked having to keep his eyes off of her—every chance that came around, he took to sneak a little glance. She's always been so effortlessly beautiful.

So why is she in his room? If she knows absolutely anything, why is she not hiding from him, at several doors' distance?

"You're reading Stephen King?"

She turns and Spencer gulps in his nerves, licking his lips and shuffling towards her.

"Um, yeah." He offers. "Garcia recommended the book."

Scarlett flips through the pages of The Shining. Her caramel eyes graze over the words lightly.

"It's good?"

Spencer's watching her, and his heart pounds when she meets his gaze.

"Y—Yeah." Spencer kneads a hand through his hair. "It's interesting. I tried reading it slower, to enjoy it more, but .. I only have maybe 40 pages left."

Scarlett nods silently, turning the pages and leaving the room wordless.

Spencer's eyes are furrowed. She comes into his room and takes it upon herself to read his book? While he could watch her fifty million times, eyes sucked in and file through her features that were so pleasant to the eyes—her softly pink lips, her alabaster skin—he can't. Cause he's about to bubble over with curiosity, the curiosity of why she ended up with him despite the odd circumstances.

"Scarlett-"

He gulps when her gaze comes to his. "Um. Don't take this wrong, I just want to know. ..Why are you here?"

Her lips sit in silence. Spencer's fidgety, yet he can't keep his eyes off hers. He's searching the burnished color of her eyes for answers. While she's prone to go silent like this sometimes, there is just so much more tension in her quietness.

She diverts her eyes somewhere near the floor, and comes forward a bit. Spencer can feel himself struggling to keep up with the pace of his breathing.

"I'm here for a reason." She starts. She's not meeting his eyes fully, but there's a shift in her tone that makes her sound candid. She approaches, and Spencer finds the silence alarmingly deafening.

Then she locks their eyes.

"Spencer..did you have a sex dream about me?"

SHIT.

Spencer's immediately red. He opens his mouth for words to come out, but it turns out there's a void between his lips.

He feels like killing Derek. As he stutters and spits and glances around, mumbles coming out jumbled from his tongue, curses are spilling in his mind.

Nothing coherent comes out of his mouth. He doesn't bare to see the look on her face—he's so caught up trying to make a response that somehow suits his needs, he doesn't recognize the apparent calm in her countenance.

"Spencer, look I'm not mad about it."

Then Spencer stops.

All his attention is on Scarlett. It's her turn to halt into silence.

Maybe he's wrapped up in a delusion. But she looks rosy, put in a daze, as he does, too. It's an odd moment—they're both flustered. Staring at each other, Spencer has the feeling they're both, individually, trying to put together whether they want the same thing.

He's not sure at all. But she's come close, and he's praying she rejects him, before the urge to end this burdensome situation by bringing their lips together ends up becoming too much to bear.

"Scarlett, tell me what you want."

Her gaze is suddenly glued on Spencer's.

He's staring at her with an unfeigned curiosity. He leaves room for the possibility that he's got this completely wrong. But what he said is completely candid—he wants exactly what she wants.

If Scarlett wants to rush out the door in disgust, she can and will. If she wants to forget about all of this, sure. If her eyes are telling the truth, and the crave lacing her pupils isn't a daydream, he'll give her everything she needs.

Without a word, Scarlett brings her body to his, nearing his head with a hand and ending it with a kiss.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #fluff #fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x original female character #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray Gubler fanfiction #smut

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Note

Ok ok I’m exhausted so this might be worded weird but 🍑 Matt + toys what do we think how would he like using them on reader

ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok em i’m so sorry this took me a hot minute but I had RUMINATE on this thot cuz like 👁🫦👁

and then I had a spark of inspo and here we are….enjoy! and thank u for ur thots 😏

good vibrations - matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: hahaahahahaaha use of toys, oral (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v (wrap ur shit) and matt as per usual in my fics has a dirty mouth I regret NOTHING

(I don’t remember where I got this gif from I AM SORRY but it’s perfect)

Matt can hear it the second he steps through the door.

It makes his ears twitch, the buzzing noise almost echoing through his brain as he lets the door to the roof shut quietly behind him. It’s late, very late, and he doesn’t want to wake you, but as he steps down onto the first landing, he has a feeling he’s doing anything but.

He whispers your name, calling you softly, but the only response he gets is more buzzing, the shifting of bedsheets, and a heavy breath falling out of you. Fabric shifts further, the sound he knows to be the silk grazing against your bare legs, and then the scent of your floods his nose, making his tongue dart between his lips to taste it on the air.

Oh.

Instantly, he’s half-hard in his tac pants, boots nearly slipping against the steps as he barrels down them, hands on the railing and the wall to guide him down the stairs. He’s already yanking the black mask from his head, tossing it to the side as he reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head.

He hasn’t even hit the bedroom doorway when he hears the pattern of the vibrations change, more staccato, wavering through the air a different way now, and he hears the change in your breath with it, your heartbeat racing as he grows nearer.

But then he hears something else.

“Oh, fuck, Matt, baby.” A pause, a rasped breath, the sound of nails dragging against skin. “Oh my god.”

He’s yanking his boots off now, not caring where they thump to the ground as he tosses them away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, announcing his presence so he doesn’t startle you too hard. He still hears the surprised pick-up in your heartbeat, a gasp sucked down your throat as he sheds his pants, crossing the room quickly and kneeling at the edge of the bed. Matt wraps one hand around your bare thigh, digits pressing in just enough that he can feel the rush of your blood beneath your skin. He cocks his head to the side, settling himself between your legs, and reaches out his other hand, closing it lightly around your still moving wrist. “What do we have here?”

“I…” you start, trailing off as the vibration hits you in just the right way. Matt can feel your back arch off the bed, feels the muscle in your thigh tense in his grip. “Fuck.”

You keen the curse, your head pressing into the pillow, and yeah, he’s fully hard now, straining against the tight fabric of his underwear. Matt bites his lip, waits for you to drag the toy back out until your wrist creeps closer to his, and then he strikes.

He lets go of your thigh, pulls your hand away and grips the vibrator. He leans up over you, planting his free hand beside your head, and leans down as he plunges the toy into you, growling at the way your hands immediately latch onto his back, nails digging in. His mouth is right by your ear, tip of his tongue dragging along your neck. “You just couldn’t wait for me, hmm?” He starts thrusting the toy, feeling your heavy breaths against his shoulder. “But you were thinking about me, weren’t you?”

You nod, your eyes squeezed shut, legs tensing where they’re spread wide by his thighs. Matt grins, kissing the space below your ear as you start to convulse, every muscle going taut, hands gripping him tightly as your body arches up into his, hips chasing his hand as he controls the toy. His tongue moves against your pulse, tasting the salt on your skin, feeling your blood thump wildly.

Your grip on his shoulders is like an iron vice, but he still manages to drag himself down, kissing your bare body as he goes. You’re completely naked, twisted in his sheets, and it makes his cock harder at the thought of you waiting like this for him, but that you just couldn’t wait for him to fuck you, had to depend on your own imagination and the toy between your legs to bring you your pleasure.

He’s gotta rectify that.

“Matt.” You suck in a breath that turns into a squeak as his face comes level with your pussy, tongue darting between his lips, and he presses a soft kiss to your clit, listening for that hitch in your breath before he lifts his other hand, spreading you wide. The buzzing between your legs almost overwhelms him, but the scent and taste of you more than make up for it. You’ve drenched the toy, and he lets his tongue graze the silicone more than once, the feeling like electricity on his tastebuds, but followed by the familiar taste of you that makes his eyes roll back in his head.

He closes his lips around your clit and moves the toy in unison with his tongue, laving it across the sensitive bud with every thrust. Your legs spread wider, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, and you’re heaving breaths now, breasts bouncing with every inhale and exhale. His free hand moves up to cover one, your nipple pinched between his knuckles, and he squeezes slightly as your legs tighten around his head.

“Matt, please,” you call, and he just nods, humming against you, instinctively knowing that the extra vibration will send you catapulting over the edge you’re dangling off. He pushes the toy deep at the same time, pinches your nipple, and that’s all it takes.

Listening to you cum, feeling the way it moves through your body like molasses, it makes him wish to God that he could see. Could see the way your face contorts with pleasure, lips parted or your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He wishes he could see the blush rise in your cheeks, the sweat dripping down your neck, the way your eyelashes flutter and your eyes roll back. He’s felt all these things, in one way or another, but God, he wishes he could see them.

He keeps up his ministrations, groaning against your clit as he feels you flood the toy with your release, hands pulling at his hair hard enough to hurt but he doesn’t care. He likes it, feeds off it, has to push his hips into the bed to relieve some of the pressure building in his own body. You smell incredible, the thick scent of you surrounding him, filling the room, and all of his nerves are at attention.

Matt can’t wait anymore.

You make a little mewling sound as he pulls the toy from you, leaning down to drag his tongue across your entrance before he leans up on his knees, pushing his briefs down over his ass, just enough to get his cock free. Then he’s leaning over you again, dragging the tip of his cock against you. “You gonna cum on my cock now, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning down to capture your mouth in a messy kiss. You moan into his mouth, one hand sliding down his back until you can grab a handful of his ass. “I need you so bad.”

“Yes, Matt,” you gasp, nudging your nose along his. “Please, I want your cock.”

He thrusts in without any further warning, jaw dropping as he goes, filling you to the hilt in one shot. You’re so wet, the tightness still there but your intense orgasm just makes it easier for him to slide into your warmth. And God, you’re warm. He’s surrounded by you, the feel of your skin and the taste of your cum and the scent of you still lingering in his nose. He’s never wanted anything as badly as he wants you.

He’s not going to last very long and he knows it, but he has to make you cum first. He has to feel you squeeze his cock like you’d squeezed the toy. He needs it.

Blindly, he reaches for the toy, towards the end of the bed where he’d left it. You mewl at the loss of his mouth against yours, hands reaching for him, but then he clicks the toy back to life, grinning down at you. “Legs wide, baby,” he tells you, curling one hand around your thigh and pushing it back. You hook your own hand around your other leg, pulling it back to match, and Matt sucks in a breath as he places the toy against you again, right at your clit.

He’s never heard you make a noise like that before.

He’s not even quite sure what to call it, a groan or a gasp or a whimper or a moan. His name is mixed within the noise somewhere, and he can hear you clawing at the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric like a lifeline.

Then he starts to move, and that’s it, game over. But fuck, if he doesn’t love winning this game.

It must be because you’re so sensitive from the first orgasm, because he’s never had you cumming this fast twice in a row. You’re on another level, back bowed, head thrashing against the pillow, legs trying to snap together but getting caught on his hips. And he doesn’t stop thrusting, the room filled with the sound of the front of his thighs hitting the backs of yours, the wet slide of his cock in your pussy, and the deep buzz of the vibrator. It’s heavenly in the most debauched way, and Matt can feel himself teetering on the edge, heat crawling up his spine in that familiar dance that only your body seems to know the steps to.

He lets the toy move lower, until the vibrations are hitting both your clit and his shaft, and he cums so hard his mind goes blank. He topples over you, hips still stuttering, the toy trapped between you, tantalizing you both. He’s pretty sure you cum a third time from the way your whole body tightens around him, pussy gripping his cock, and you pull him against you, face pressed into his neck, rasping his name. His whole body is shaking, the vibrations prolonging everything he’s feeling, every nerve sparking in response over and over again.

Finally, neither of you can take anymore, and you reach a hand between your now sweat-soaked bodies, clicking the toy off and tossing it to the side. Matt slumps against you, careful not to drop all his weight on you, and you push a sweaty strand of hair from his forehead, leaning in to kiss him softly. “That was unexpected,” you murmur, still catching your breath.

The corner of his mouth quirks in a grin, lips chasing yours to kiss you again. “You and I might need to take a field trip.”

“Field trip?” you repeat, and he chuckles at the confusion in your voice.

“There’s a sex shop three blocks from here, isn’t there?”

You bark a laugh, kissing him again, running your hand through his hair. “That could be arranged.”

—————

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endlessnightlock · 1 year

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50 Reasons to Share a Bed: 48) Because I’ll always be the one to patch you up.

Thank you, @thelettersfromnoone <3!

From 50 Reasons To Share A Bed

“I’m sorry to bother you this late,” Peeta murmurs as I let him in the back door as quietly as I can so I don't wake up my family.

He looks terrible. One of his eyes is red and swollen, blood pooling beneath the thin, translucent skin. He holds a rag to the corner of his mouth. I grimace at his wounds but don't answer. We’ll talk when we get to my room.

I won’t tell him I was asleep until a reoccurring dream about him woke me with just enough to make it out of bed and down the steps to the kitchen. My hand landed on the handle seconds before his light wrap tapped against the storm door. Instead of saying all those crazy things, because he's my friend and it's a bit much to tell him I dream about him almost every night, I wait while he carefully pulls his shoes off and tucks them under his arm.

Of course, he never asks how I know ahead of time that he needs a place to sleep, so maybe the dreams aren't so crazy.

After grabbing one of the bags of ice I keep in the back of the freezer for him, Peeta follows me through the kitchen and across the living room, then up the carpeted back stairs of the house that lead to my bedroom above our two-stall garage.

My strategically placed bedroom is the only way I've kept Peeta's late-night comings and going secret. Not that we do anything for Mom or Dad to worry about. It's not like he's my boyfriend or tries to kiss me or anything like that. Not for lack of wanting him to.

I sneak a peek at his battered face from under my lashes as I let him into my room, the direction of my thoughts shaming me. I've wondered more than once what it would be like to kiss him. But my role in his life is a friend, a protector, not a lover. Sometimes I'm so stupid.

"You aren't bothering me. I wasn’t sleeping,” I finally supply, keeping my arms folded across my stomach, careful not to touch him as he moves past. I have to hold my breath because it's too erratic and would be evident in the quiet room. Tension crops up every time we're alone now. I wish I knew what Peeta was thinking. Once I turn out the light and we lay down in my double bed, it's not so bad. You don't have to pretend your feelings aren't real in the dark.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Peeta supplies, sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling ruefully. I hand him the ice pack, which he wraps around the rag in his hand before placing it against his split lip again.

"I don't know why you insist on doing this," I say, lowering myself to sit beside him.

"This money is good."

Sweet, sunny Peeta fights on Friday nights for money. He's never said it outright, but what he's doing has to be illegal. He's big and strong but still has a babyish quality to his face. If you're paying attention, it's easy to see he isn't older than seventeen. When his father died, his mother checked out of life and into alcoholism; he had to find a way to pay the bills. It was that simple, he told me. He could take a few hits. He just couldn't go home to his mom looking like that.

I sigh unhappily. He knows how much I hate what he does. Why bring it up again and again?

I watch him scoot across the bed to his usual place next to the wall. "But I do make a pretty punching bag, don't you think?"

Instead of answering, I turn out my bedside lamp, plunging us into darkness. I don't want to get into all of this tonight. He deserves better, but I can't convince him. I've tried.

In the dark, I find the courage to curl up to his side. "You're not going to stay so pretty if you keep doing this," I whisper. "You're lucky no one has broken your nose yet."

"I won't do it much longer. Promise."

KPKPKPKPKPKP

It's been years. Years and years since I've seen Peeta. Years since I dreamt of him. Years since I knew whether he needed me or not, just gone, vanished. When his life started spiraling out of control, when he was making bad decisions that could only be topped by worse ones and wouldn't do a thing to accept the help offered him, I had to step away.

Yet here he is, sitting on my couch. Several days old beard, too long hair, torn up jeans, and a flannel shirt. A ball cap pulled low to shade his eyes. At least he looks and smells clean in all senses of the word. "You look like hell," I say, dropping to sit beside him.

Peeta groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch. "Same old tactful Katniss, I see."

"Don't be an idiot," I murmur, toning down my irritation and the urge to yell at him. You can do this, I tell myself. He's here. He's safe for now. "Why did you come here tonight? I haven't heard from you in forever," I add.

He frowns in disbelief like I'm supposed to know that. "You called me."

I jerk back. Like I would be the one to reach out after all the shitty things, he did to me. "I did not; I don't have your number. I'm surprised you even have a phone!"

"That's not what I meant. And, while you're at it, can the lecture. I'm still a pretty big asshole, but I've made some improvements. I own a phone. I'm in AA. NA. I've been out of trouble. I've been at the same job for the last two years. So don't look at me like that."

I clear my throat, and that's all it takes for him to dive back into the surliness.

"So give me a fucking break, would you?"

It's on the tip of my tongue to fire something back at him, but I pause and really look at him instead. The wariness in his eyes, the wall he's attempting to keep up despite the cracks springing. An edge of hopefulness in his expression---whatever it was that sent him here tonight and made me dream of him again.

"No, I won't give you a break," I say softly.

"God, Katniss. Why can't you just let go of what we were?"

Or what we could have been.

I sigh. "If you want me to let go of you, why are you here?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But I'm better than I was. Guess I didn't feel worthy of seeing you. Maybe I'm just trying to atone or some bullshit."

"Is that an apology?" I ask, smiling at his defensiveness. There were plenty of times in the past when he was blase about his shitty behavior, infuriating me, pushing me away. He has to care what I think, or he wouldn't behave that way. He knows his best isn't good enough but is determined to push on with it.

Peeta nods jerkily. "Yeah. It is. Not a very good one."

"It's good enough. What else? Do you need me to patch you up? I don't see any open wounds."

He grins at that, and it breaks the tension between us. "No, no more fights. Saved my pretty face after all."

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you when I'm sober," he says softly. "I'm sorry for what I did to you. You were so good to me, and I just shit all over it."

This time I'm the one nodding. I want to turn my head and wipe the hot, quick tears away from my eyes before he sees.

"I thought you'd given up on me," he adds.

"I thought I had. Surprised both of us, I guess."

Peeta takes my hand. We don't speak; we just sit together as I try to make my whirring brain slow down. I can't believe he's here with me. I've wanted him back in my life for so long. tonight. Sober and clean, admitting his wrongs. "It's late," he says, squeezing my hand before releasing it. He shifts on the couch, ready to stand and leave, I'm sure.

But I just got him back.

"It always was late when you came to see me," I say, leaning my head against his shoulder. "You kind of turned me into a night owl, Mellark."

I settle against him, putting my arm around his waist. I know this is too much intimacy, too fast with someone who hurt me like he did. But I dreamed of him again, like I did when we were close. I'm terrible at lying to myself; I never take my own advice when my heart's attached.

Tonight feels like a dream. I'm warm and comfortable, and the heaviest weight of my life has eased. Not disappeared because I don't trust him yet. I'll probably wake up any minute, so I'd better keep him with me as long as possible. What if he's gone again when I wake up?

"Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?" I ask. "For old times' sake?"

#endlessnightlock writes #everlark fanfiction #thg modern a/u #katniss everdeen/peeta mellark #50 reasons to share a bed

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slowsweetlove · 9 months

Text

On Beauty for Vogue (please visit the original article)

Excerpts that I loved.

On relaxation

Recently I’ve been going in the sauna and cold plunge a lot – which I do love. It helps to make me feel like I reset. As far as switching off, I like to read – just sit out in the sun, under a tree or something and read a book – it always helps me relax.

On his morning ritual

I prefer a slow wake up. I’ve gone through periods of time where the first thing that I do is work out or something like that; lately I like to get up, take a shower, take my dog for a walk, make a cup of coffee you know? Journal a bit – kind of just start the day getting my mind centred.

On morning beauty

Not really. I just take that shower and that’s about it.

On his fragrance approach

My approach is that I wear fragrance depending on how I want to feel, kind of how I get dressed. It makes you feel a certain way so that applies to my life. I have some days where I wear fragrance and some days that I don’t. The first time I ever used fragrance in a role was when I was doing The Iceman Cometh with Denzel Washington here on Broadway. During rehearsal I started putting this specific oil on my wrist, and I’d smell it before starting and then that ended up becoming sort of a trigger that would get me into that emotional state for the show. So every night before I’d walk out I’d smell this. I’d use it as a way of bypassing the conscious mind and getting down to the emotions. The true power of fragrance.

On his earliest experience with fragrance

I’ve layered [fragrances] since I was a kid. The first time I remember wearing perfume or cologne at all was when I was a child and I was sneaking in my parents’ room. My mom had this really floral scent that I’d spray on, then I’d spray my dad’s woody sort of scent. I used to mix them together, so as a kid I was doing that.

On beauty tips he learned on set

Before I’d ever been on set, I’d never really done any beauty things. But you have a lot of early calls when you’re on set and they’ll put those eye patches under your eyes. They actually really help! I always feel like it moisturises under the eyes. I keep it simple though. I like to put on some face oil or something like that and that’s about it for me.

On his skincare routine

I really don’t [have a skincare routine] besides Amy [Komorowski] who does my make-up. She developed an oil that’s for your face called Circa 1970, and she gave me a bottle of that and I love it so I put that on my face. I get out of the shower, put that on, and go. I don’t really do anything else.

On his wellness philosophy

I think it’s all about your mind, you know, about keeping your mind in a healthy place. My mother used to do this thing where she would write 10 things she’s grateful for every morning. I’ve done that – some days I write three things I’m grateful for in the morning. It just kind of shifts your perspective and reminds you of how lucky we are just to be alive. It can colour and change your day in a positive way – focus you on little things that we can be grateful for. I prefer to do it in the morning because [the way] I see it, when you sleep, sometimes it’s like you wake up and your guitar is detuned and you’ve got to tune it. So, usually doing something physical that gets the blood pumping in some way wakes you up and that’ll change my state.

On beauty

I think beauty is less of an objective thing than it is a way in which we experience the world, because when you think about it, you could walk by a beautiful rose and be having a bad day and you won’t appreciate it. Or, you walk by it a thousand times and stop seeing it for what it is. But when we take the time to really be present, and actually take in the world with all of our senses, there’s so much beauty around us in every place. I think it’s more of the filter through which we see the world.

#austin butler #vogue #ysl #well we share the sauna and cold plunge thing #i do that every sunday #italcs and bold parts are my faves

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year

Text

Break the Ice

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: When his best friend falls through the ice when skating, Rick tries to save you. But pulling you out of the water might just be the start of things….

Word Count: 1423

TW: Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Near Drowning, Huddle for Warmth

One minute you were skating circles around him, and the next Rick watched as you plunged into the freezing water below the ice. You must have hit a thin spot or your continuous skating in that area just weakened it. But the why ultimately didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were his best friend, you were in trouble, and Rick wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

As he approached the break, Rick couldn’t see the faintest trace of you. It was like you had been sucked into a black hole. Flinging off his heavy, cumbersome skates, he slammed his bare heel into the ice around the edge of the chasm, widening it slightly. Then, he dove into the gaping abyss.

The icy water hit him like a sledgehammer, causing an involuntary gasp that released half of his precious air reserves. But he tried his best to ignore the biting chill as he swam down deeper into the darkness. He couldn’t see any sign of you as he frantically lashed out his arms while he swam, hoping he would get lucky and brush up against you.

Finally, just as he was on his last few seconds of oxygen, he felt a strand of your hair brush over his hand. His fingers were so numb, it almost didn’t register, but as he surged forward, he crashed into your shoulder. Grasping a large handful of your jacket, Rick swam as hard as he could to the surface. A miniscule dot of light was his only indication of where to head, but the world grew brighter the closer he got to freedom. And just as black dots began dancing in front of his vision, Rick’s head burst through the hole that had already begun to frost over.

Dragging your head out of the water, his heart stopped as he noticed you weren’t breathing. But he had partially expected this, and now was not the time to shut down. After a lot of maneuvering, Rick managed to lift you onto the solid ice. He then heaved himself up beside you.

Rolling quickly to his knees, he began chest compressions, exactly as he had been taught back at boot camp many years ago. It was second nature at this point. He only hesitated for a moment when it came time to perform mouth to mouth. For as many years as the two of you had known each other, you had never crossed this line. Yet, for how long had he imagined pressing his lips against yours? Dreamed about what they would feel like, taste like? But he never imagined this would be how he found out. Ramming his mouth into your icy, blue lips, he breathed heavily into you, forcing air back into your still lungs. But nothing happened. Two more times he repeated the cycle but…. nothing.

“Come on, darlin’, don’t do this to me! Wake up! Please, just fucking, wake up!” With the last pound to your chest, you jerked straight up, spewing water from your mouth as you coughed and gagged. Rick didn’t think he had ever felt so relieved in his life.

Once you managed to catch your breath, you fell back onto the ice as you curled into a tight ball. “R-r-r-r-i-i-” You couldn’t even get his entire name past your lips as your teeth chattered furiously.

Rick scooped you up tightly into his strong arms. He murmured softly in your ear, trying to keep his own teeth from clacking together, “I know, darlin’, I-I know. But I’ve got ya. You’re sa-safe now.”

As quickly as he could in just his thick socks, he hurried across the ice towards his truck. He could feel your hair stiffening into icy strands as the water still clinging to it began to freeze in the wind. You were still quivering violently in his arms, but you seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness. He had to get you warm and dry and soon.

As soon as he opened the door to his truck, he realized a sobering fact. Both of your clothes were still wet, with much of the water on your outer layer already hardening into a frosty coating, which meant….

Rick fumbled with frozen fingers at the zippers and buttons on your clothes as he removed layer after sopping layer. When you were left in just your undergarments, he considered leaving them on but he knew he needed to keep you as dry and as warm as possible. So, averting his eyes as much as he could, he removed your remaining clothes and quickly covered your naked form with one of the blankets he had in the back seat.

Once you were snuggly tucked in, Rick draped your dry jacket over you for added warmth. Luckily, you had left your heaviest one in the truck, stating the two of you were going to be working up a sweat on the ice and you wouldn’t need it. Then he began to strip, the pile of wet clothes soon doubling in size. When he was completely naked, he wrapped the other blanket around himself the best he could. Then he lifted you up and climbed into the front of the truck. He turned all the heaters to low as he pulled you in close to his chest.

As you began to stir, your hand weakly clawed at the heater knob, trying to twist it all the way up but Rick stopped you. “I know you want that heat, darlin’, but warmin’ up too fast is just as dangerous as not warmin’ up at all. We need to do this a little at a time.”

You nodded furiously but because of your shivering, once you started, you didn’t seem to be able to stop. Your head just continued shaking up and down like a bobble-head doll. Placing one hand gently on your cheek, Rick pressed your face tighter against his chest. After a few minutes, the bobbing stopped.

“That’s the last time I let you talk me into going ice skating.” Rick said with a chuckle.

“Sh-shu-shut up. We were ha-hav-having f-fun be-before this hap-pened. Be-besides…nev-er get t-to see yo-you an-anymore.” You mumbled softly through blue tinted lips. It pained Rick to hear the intense tremor in your voice, but at least you were coherent enough to speak.

He brushed some of your damp hair off of your face. “I know. And I’m sorry. Work’s been really busy lately. You know how it is.”

“I-I know. B-but I mi-miss you.” You snuggle your face deeper into him.

“I know…I miss you too.” Rick smoothed his hand across the blanket covering your back. Another shiver ran down your spine. “Ah, come on, darlin’. It’s not that cold.”

“Ya, know… It’s-s a s-sc-scientiffic fact that… larger, more mus-s-scular people’s bo-odies run warmer. I gu-guess I lucked out. You’re my own personal sp-space heater. You’ve al-always be-en incredibly hot.”

Rick smiled. “Is that so? Well, just for future knowledge, there are easier ways to get me out of my clothes.” He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. While it was true, he had been dreaming for years about holding you like this, bodies pressed together in a tender embrace, he knew this was not the way he wanted it to happen. Also, he was sure you had to be mortified about the situation as it was. Two thin blankets were the only things that separated your naked bodies, and though he had tried his best not to look, you had to know he had gotten a pretty good glimpse of your breathtaking figure.

But instead of getting mad or embarrassed, you just chuckled. “I don’t know, Flag. I’ve be-en trying for ages and no-nothing else seem-ed to be working. Call this my l-last resort.”

He looked down at you in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You shrugged, a coy smile on your lips. “I mean, no, I didn’t fall through the ice on purpose, but also… yeah… I like you. A lot. I have for years. I thought you knew that?”

“No…. I thought I was the only one who felt that way.”

Your smile widens as you get a slightly devious gleam in your eyes. “Well…. I might have stopped shaking, but I’m still really cold. I seem to remember reading something about increasing the core temperature and blood flow to treat hypothermia. Do you think you could help me with that?”

Rick’s smile now rivaled your own. “Well, darlin’, it would be my pleasure.”

#sfw repost #fic #rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag #joel kinnaman #dc #dc x reader #hurt/comfort #hurt and comfort #hurt & comfort #hypothermia tw

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drrealityslenderverse · 11 months

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We Did It (We Didn't)

Post-MH, Tim and Brian attempted to leave the past behind them… but they're now being hunted

Back to Contents || Back to One-shot Contents

Months had passed since Jay’s death and Alex’s demise. The only good thing was that Tim had, hopefully, set Jessica up to have a normal future going forward and he’d managed to rescue Brian after his fall. Although, the journey to getting him up and walking again had been a long one—and healing the mental and emotional damage done by that entity was still a work in progress. So many late nights trying to scrape together the cash to pay for the medical bills on top of everything else had taken its toll on Tim as well.

But overall, things were getting better! ‘Were,’ being the key word. Even after moving away trouble began to catch up to them. First he’d gotten a tape with Jessica’s gruesome murder by some thin masked figure in a white, grimy hoodie. The dried black ooze reminded him of the stuff he’d sometimes coughed up along with blood due to the tall entity. They’d moved soon after that, fearing how this stranger had gotten their address.

But the proxy had found them again regardless. After a fight resulting in their attacker’s death—something he felt guilty about given how young the teen girl had been, Tim was once again finding himself stuck in a hospital praying for Brian to pull through. The blow to the head had worsened the injuries from the original fall and this time, the doctors didn’t seem to think he’d be as lucky.

“I’ll be al’ight.” Brian had promised with that toothy grin of his.

Tim wasn’t so sure.

But he’d tried to stay positive for Brian’s sake. He stayed at the man’s side as long as he was allowed between check-ins and visitation hours. The prognosis was still guarded according to the last update and Tim knew his time allowed in the room was running out for the night as the clock ticked on the wall—a sound that had started to annoy him now that things were quieting down for the night.

A little too quiet. A frown crossed his face as he took note of the silence. For a moment the humming of the machines started to sound like a familiar distortion and the hairs on the back of his neck and along his arms prickled. He tried to tell himself it was nothing, just bad memories playing tricks on him. Then the power went out.

The hospital plunged into darkness for a moment before the backup kicked on. Machines could be heard coming back to life as the staff called out somewhere in the distance. The overhead lighting however, stayed dim and flickering. Orange emergency lights swirled and flashed against the wall outside.

Goosebumps rose on his skin as he peered into the strangely deserted hall. The way the orange lights moved against the sterile walls reminded him of his own time in the mental hospital… when it was burning. Minus the smoke and the doctors rushing around to get themselves and the patients out.

“Where are they anyway?” Shouldn’t someone be coming down to check the patients in this wing? Should he hit the call button to get someone here?

Tim ducked back into the room, feeling his paranoia playing up again. Something wasn’t right. That buzzing was wrong. He shook Brian rougher than he’d wanted to but was desperate to wake the man up.

“Bri, hey, we have to go.” He tugged the IV and other wires and needles from the man’s arms as gently as he could while moving quickly.

Brian groaned and looked around groggily. “Wha’s happening?”

“Nothing good. Can you walk?”

Of course he couldn’t. Not on his own at least. Tim helped support Brian’s weight and hurried into the hall with the taller man limping beside him. Glancing down both ways, he tried to recall which way would take them to the exit.

“Left.” Brian tugged at him.

Tim didn’t know how he’d know considering he’d been unconscious on arrival but it was a fifty-fifty shot. He tried to keep the panic in the back of his mind as they wove through the squeaky-clean halls. Each turn was making him feel more lost. Surely there weren’t that many hallways, right? At least not that he’d been down when they’d taken him to Brian’s room.

“Tim…” A cough followed Brian’s panting breath as the man leaned more weight on him.

Pausing, he checked in on the other man. Despite the poor lighting, he could see how pale and unfocused Brian was getting. Looking around, he still couldn’t see any signs of other people… He couldn’t hear them anymore either.

“Rest for a moment… get my bearings… We aren’t trapped here. I just… went in a circle or something.” He tried to convince himself, though it didn’t work very well with the paranoia playing the worst scenarios. “It isn’t here. We’re states away from Rosswood. This is just.. Something else.”

He sucked in a harsh breath as he heard footsteps walking closer. Whirling around, he saw a man in a doctor’s coat walking towards them. His dark hair had a tint of gray in it and his face was scruffy—features he couldn’t recall any of the doctors here having. As the man got closer, Tim caught a glimpse of dark stains around the cuffs of the white overcoat… and a dark wet trail back towards another room. He’d seen enough blood to know what it was even in the swirling of orange colored lights; they needed to get out of here.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The man was taller and clearly built as he looked down on Tim.

He couldn’t find his voice as he dragged Brian with him in retreat. The guy tilted his head to the side, revealing that same damned mark that girl had. As if knowing his train of thought, the man smiled and pushed back the white fabric to show off the weapon hilted at his side. The sharp blade swished out as the man charged.

Tim ran as best he could with Brian’s now completely dead weight. It’d be faster to ditch the injured man and save himself yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave Brian for dead. He turned another corner only to skid to a halt on the slick floor as a wiry figure came from the other end of the hall with a metal bat. They looked closer to his age than the man had. However she was leaner and definitely shorter than the other guy who was now blocking the way he’d come. But those differences certainly didn’t make them less dangerous.

“Nothing against ya, kid.”

Tim turned as the man spoke, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw the mask he now wore. The smooth features and thin white over the eye holes reassembled the Operator’s face just a little too much for his liking. Paired with the orange lights flickering like fire against it, he realized with a sense of dread that he’d seen this man before… The night the hospital burned to the ground. He’d even said those exact same words.

His body felt numb as he tried to scramble away, tripping over his own feet as he adjusted his grip on Brian. The man had gone too still in his arms. Tim wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks or if Brian’s body was growing colder. His eyes darted back to the younger figure, noting the familial resemblance with the older man—not that it aided his situation. Unlike her father, their expression seemed more sad about what was about to happen.

He pressed his back to the wall, completely trapped. A fit of coughing wracked his body, flecks of blood speckling the formerly pristine floor. Through blurred vision he could see the faceless entity itself watching several rooms down. Tim lunged for the younger of the two attackers, determined to at least go down fighting. Their scuffle didn’t last long before a sharp blade opened a gash across his back.

His shout was muffled by the woman beneath him freeing an arm from his grip and landing a blow to his throat. Once more he was coughing and his moment of weakness brought another stab of the man’s weapon into his flesh. The feel of his body tearing open as the blade yanked out was painful. Even without looking he knew it was fatal. His brain was feeling cloudier and his limbs were losing their ability to respond. Tim crawled over to Brian’s side, relieved that they’d at least left him alone… Although, he knew it meant the man was already gone.

“We didn’t get away… don’t… don’t think… we ever could’ve…” His eyelids felt heavy.

Breathing was becoming a real chore too, though he tried to force himself to keep it up. Through tunneling vision he could see the younger of his two murderers walk over and crouch down in front of him. She was saying something but his mind couldn’t process it. Tim flinched as they reached out, closing Brian’s eyes and then his, plunging him into darkness as the rest of his life ebbed away.

#marble hornets #post-mh #one shot #marble hornets one shot #brian thomas #tim wright #kate the chaser #slenderverse #creepypasta #a03 fanfic #hoody #slenderman #oc: ash/pawn #oc: Marcus/Cardinal #major character death #angst #mh brim

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wolves-and-stars · 2 years

Text

Part One: ‘The Deer Hunters’

Harry had been in a bad mood all week and Sirius was on the quest to find out why. As soon as he was done getting dressed he went to wake Harry up.

Sirius knew he was having a hard time adjusting to Hogwarts prep and it had him agonising over every little thing, but he was ready to get Harry out of it.

"Time to get up." Sirius poked at the sleeping boy,

when Harry just pressed his face into his pillow Sirius continued.

"Hey, I have a huge dilemma that I need your opinion on."

"What?!"

"Am I more beautiful today than I was yesterday?" Sirius lamented, laying beside harry.

"Oh, boy. I'm just not sure." Harry grumbled

"I looked in the mirror, and I thought, 'well, yes, definitely, huge improvement'," Sirius said pulling the pillow off of Harry's face.

"Can I have my pillow back?" he growled trying to snatch it back from Sirius.

"Then I thought maybe it's not that I'm more beautiful today. Maybe I was just as beautiful yesterday, only I lacked the self-esteem to recognize it." Sirius continued, watching harry trudge out of bed getting a towel.

"I'm gonna take a shower." he griped at Sirius.

"Hurry up, I'll drive you to school." Sirius offered

"No, thanks."

"Why so charming this morning?"

"I had an annoying visit from the Godrics hollow wake-up fairy."

"Okay, you're crabby. Do you know what the perfect cure for crabbiness is? A fabulous trip to the mall. We can get you the leather jacket you've been eyeing?."

"No, thanks."

"It might make you feel better."

"I feel fine, and I don't wanna waste time."

"I know you've been in a funk, but you got to try not dwelling on it."

"I'm gonna be late for school."

"O-Kay, then just meet me in town around 4:00 we'll get some Indian food and spoil our dinner."

"Whatever."

"Hey, love the enthusiasm, does 'up with people' know about you?" Sirius called out watching harry leave the room.

The situation was much worse than he could've anticipated, Harry had been eyeing that jacket for two months now, he was so sure it would cheer him up.

Something was seriously wrong. hah. Siriusly. Laughing to himself thinking about how truly funny he was he headed to work.

Sirius walked into the classroom where the parent-teaching meet was being held, ready to hide in the back while the other parents discussed SAT prep and uniform codes. What he didn't expect was to run headfirst into Harry's teacher.

"Oh hi, I'm Sirius Black... Harry's godfather"

"I'm Remus Lupin."

"Nice to meet you," Sirius said shaking his hand, admiring the gorgeous man.

"How's Harry liking Hogwarts, so far?" Remus asked,

"Oh, he loves it."

"Really?" if Sirius didn't know any better he'd have thought it was a look of confusion etched on the teacher's face.

"Yeah. It's an adjustment, but he's always wanted to go to Harvard, and this is how he'll get there."

"Harvard?"

"Yep. Ever since he found James and Lily graduated from there" Sirius nodded slightly sad, even after 16 years.

"It's a great school," Remus said polite enough not to pry. Attractive, nice, well educated, what did this man not have, hopefully for Sirius, a girlfriend.

"You know, I hope Harry adjusts to this place. We need him here."

"Thank you. That's so nice."

"I hope he's not too disappointed about his paper. I know a "D" seems dismal-"

"Harry got a "D"?" Sirius said jolted

"Yeah, but-"

"He's never gotten a "D. God, I'm such an idiot. I've gotta go."

"I'm sorry if I said something to offend you."

Oh, no. If Harry got a "D," he's not feeling too good, and I'd like to be there."

"I understand."

"So... It was nice meeting you."

"You too," Remus said waving.

fuck. His life was a lot easier before he met Remus Lupin ten minutes ago

"Oh, hello, bookworm," Sirius said sitting next to Harry, where he'd plunged himself into obsessive studying.

"Finally. Where were you?" Harry complained.

"Well, um, actually, I was at Hogwarts." Sirius started slowly

"Why?" Harry questioned

"I was there for the-" Sirius said trailing off a bit, giving him a chance.

Realisation struck Harry before he look entirely horrified "Parent/teacher meeting. Oh, my god. Yeah. I forgot."

"It went very well. I was extremely charming. I won the whole crowd over. They made me queen." Sirius said trying to alleviate the tension on the boy's face.

"So I guess you talked to Mr Lupin," Harry said more than asked, resigned.

"Why did you let me whine about skipping school and Indian food when you had something major going on?" Sirius questioned lightly, feeling a bit guilty he'd missed such a big thing.

"I know. I'm sorry." Harry said, head titled downwards.

"You should have told me."

"I couldn't," he said sounding small making Sirius' heart pang sharply, wanting to comfort him immediately.

"You couldn't tell me? You tell me everything." Sirius asked confused

"It was too humiliating," Harry murmured

"Oh, honey." Sirius reached out to grab Harry's hand, before continuing

"You once told me that you love 'saved by the bell. What could be more humiliating than that?"

"I couldn't form the words. I couldn't even say it. I couldn't even comprehend it. It was... a 'D.' I got a 'D'. I've never gotten a "D". Ever."

"I know." he clucked sympathetically tilting his head to the side.

"A "D." I suck."

"You don't suck." Sirius reprimanded

"I can't do this."

"Listen, a "D" is bad. Okay? But all this talk about "I suck" and self-pity, that's worse. Not you. A "D" is one grade, not the end of the world. You'll catch up and do better. You can do this, and I will help you."

"Do you really think I can do this?" Harry asked green eyes brimming with worry.

Sirius smiled carefully feeling his heart get full just looking at the boy "I bet you a dollar."

"That's it? That's all my future's worth... $1?" Harry laughed

"Well, you did get a "D." Sirius teased, hiding a smirk.

#enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #wolfstar #Remus Lupin #remus x sirius #Sirius Black #Marauders

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aajjks · 6 months

Note

Amara looks at Y/n and says “No one will know it’s you, please let me take over.”

Y/n is confused but nods her head as she goes numb and falls asleep. Amara had to do this in order to get her body back, her necklace back and get Y/n back to her time era.

Amara does something familiar to get out of the bubble. Nanami tries to kill this person but Amara shields herself and starts fighting Nanami. She feels someone beside her and smiles knowing Alina is helping her fight. She knows that Alina now knows she is there.

They defeat Nanami but Nanami strikes the body actually hurting her and there was a bright glow then all too soon Amara has her body back and her necklace and Y/N is back in her era.

Amara takes off her disguise and says to Nanami “You mess with the wrong people.”

Meanwhile with bunny Y/n

She feels at ease almost lost in time. Her body feels like it is floating in the lonesome but it felt nice. No drama, no tears, and no pain. That is until she is plunged into a deep hole then finally she wakes up, sweating in a basement.

She struggles to go to the light, as if her body doesn’t want to wake up. Her eyes twitch then she opens them reaching out with a worried expression. Then she realizes she is in a basement somewhere. She stays silent as she sighs then looks around the room. In her bleary vision she sees a shadow move.

She pauses, is she dead or alive?

The person walks towards her and stares at her in shock. Then he says “Y/n noona! It worked! I got you back!”

She was confused as she let this person hug her, this person was none other that Jaehyun. Her eyes widen as he says “The ritual worked! I didn’t think it would work. I am glad you are alive and well.” He broke the hug to smile at her. “You are hurt let me take care of you.”

Y/n couldn’t move and couldn’t believe it, the emo boy got her back to her time? She doesn’t want to trigger him either all the dominance has left her this time. She feels like a shell of herself.

Jaehyung says “Did you hear about Nanami coming back. I always HATED her.. she… she always stalked you! I hated the fact that she made you look bad, she made you to hurt and I want to kill her but she doesn’t know that you are here.” He chuckles and says “You have to stay with me for the time being. Why? Well everyone thinks you died. It’s been four years since your disappearance.”

Y/n thinks to herself *How long was I in the space time continuum?! How did… how did he.. I need to hear about my bunny… where is he is he ok?*

Meanwhile with bunny Koo

He takes care of Alina and Eunwoos babies, they keep him sane. He has an ankle bracelet to alert everyone if he goes away for to long.

He still has a job and had friends, he can’t look at any pictures of Y/n because he will have a mental breakdown. He believes that you died while he had no idea that you are alive in someone’s basement.

Sometimes they look around but it’s been years

Meanwhile with Nanami

Talks to everyone in the neighborhood about you, she knows you are alive somewhere. She feels you but she doesn’t know where.

(I think I’m loosing the plot lolz)

It has been a few months since you’ve been stuck in this basement since you have felt the burn of Sun on your skin, he doesn’t let you go.

Even though he saved you, but you want to go back to your life he’s brought you back to it, but he’s taken it away from you.

You feel like today you’ll get the opportunity to escape because it’s been a lot of times since he’s been sleeping and he is in fact, a heavy sleeper.

You stand up lean down, it is really difficult with all of the ropes and handcuffs, but you managed to pick up the knife. You had hidden one day with your mouth and you pick it up.

Somehow you manage to cut up the ropes off your skin.

Without even making any noise, and then you don’t remove the handcuffs from your ankles because you know that would wake him up when you finally break free from those groups, you take steps and carefully step out of the basement.

It’s really intense as you watch him stealing glances at his sleeping figure, he sleeps in the basement so he can make sure that you don’t escape.

But looks like this guy had a very rough day because he’s been sleeping for so many hours without even moving.

you finally take a breath as you step out of the basement. And then you don’t wait as you take the handcuffs off and literally run off.

And you don’t stop until you escape his house.

You almost cry from the joy as you see a lot of people walking around the street and you see a taxi coming.

“ excuse me, excuse me!!” You almost cry as the taxi and you get into it without even saying anything.

“ please take me to this street xxx”

And you never look back.

___

#ask: bunny!koo #it’s about to have a happy ending xx #also I got children 🥺

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

His queen

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - An anon asked for an au sequel to first night with no stucky but this can be read as a one shot. Thanks to lizzygal(link to ao3) for her advice on this! This is written for @sweetlyscared's 1k angst challenge! Congrats boo! I used the prompt 'Do you love her?' Although this is hardly angsty but it's as angsty as someone as soft as me can get🥺 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret.

Warnings - explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.

Pairing - soft dark king!Steve x reader

Word count - 5.3k

Steve jolted when your palm hit him across his face, his hand circled around your wrist, ready to fight whatever it was that slapped him off, his grip loosening when he realised it was just you. You wiggled your hand away from his grip, mumbling incoherently before turning away from him, so that he could only see the silhouette of your nude back in the dim light.

Although he had been with a handful of women, he never had to share a bed with one. He didn’t think he’d ever have to, he was born in royalty, raised to be a king. While he liked having your soft warm body in his arms, he maybe could live without your hands slapping him, or both your legs over his thighs and hips.

It was customary for wives to have their own chambers after the honeymoon period was over. And with a heavy heart he had sent you to your own chambers, he made sure you were treated to the best luxuries possible.

But he found himself missing your presence soon enough. Your legs over his, you annoying him for attention whenever he was working, the way you hummed a song in your head, how you often clumsily bumped into things, your sweet beautiful voice, your scent, everything about you.

So he went to your room, told you that you were to live with him in his chambers from then on. You were hesitant at first, but didn’t say no to him.

You could never deny him anything. He loved that about you. How subservient you were despite being so fiery.

He was grateful to have made you move in, in times like these, when his cock was hard and achingly pressed against your thigh, he had you right where he wanted you.

He softly called out your name, he’d rather have you awake for this. He loved listening to the sweet sounds he could pull out of you. When you didn’t so much as stir he decided he would just have to wake you up another way.

Pushing your legs off his, spreading them apart to make room for him as he hovered over you, pressing soft kisses, rubbing his beard against your skin, he made his way down to his destination, he was parched for your nectar.

He kissed your petal, your cunt already oozing with need, your body would always want him even if you weren’t awake. He frowned when you didn’t move at all. He had been a bit too rough with you that night, exhausting you, making you pass out as soon as he was done, but he was growing more and more impatient.

Scraping his teeth over your clit, he bit it ever so lightly as you yelped awake.

“Oh!” you gasped when you looked down to find the king between your legs.

Swallowing a lump, because this was still so very strange to you. Your mother had told you how a man and woman make love before your wedding, but she never mentioned anything like this.

From your knowledge the king putting his mouth there wouldn’t result in you getting pregnant. But it did bring you great pleasure, to the point where it was maddening.

Sometimes it was the only thing on your mind.

It was as if you were addicted to it.

“My king...” you squirmed when you felt him push his fingers inside you, “I’m so tired... I have court tomorrow...” How he managed to do all his duties and still have you at least thrice everyday was beyond you.

“You don’t have to go. You’re the queen, the future mother of my children, you deserve a day off. Besides I do work you a bit too hard, don’t I?” he asked before plunging his tongue into your heat.

“Huh? No... I’m glad to be serving you...” And you had yet to give him any heirs.

It wasn’t long before you released all over his mouth, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard coated with your slick as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“You can stay in bed all day tomorrow. That way you’ll be strong and ready by the time I’m back.” He told you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, as you tasted yourself on his mouth.

Turns out a day off was everything that you had needed. You were born a princess, albeit of a kingdom standing on its last legs, you were the youngest of six sisters, your prospects weren’t all that great.

Your mother told you that you’d be lucky to get a rich lord, let alone a Duke or a prince. A King was out of the question. She taught you how to handle a household, she never could’ve prepared you for court or to be a queen. You always dreamt of marrying for love. Of running away after falling for a stable boy and living far away and being free.

But you married the King of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole world. While you had grown to love Steven, you didn’t love all the responsibilities that were thrusted upon you so suddenly, you didn’t like how you were always under scrutiny. Every move you made was watched and judged by others. You still couldn’t believe your life sometimes.

So it was nice to have a day to yourself. You had slept in till late in the morning, having your breakfast in bed before taking a leisurely bath and then decided to go for a walk in the garden just before the sunset before you’d have to go back up and have dinner with your husband before having to perform your wifely duties.

“Your grace,” you smiled upon hearing the familiar voice, turning around to see Lady Sharon approaching you.

You hadn’t seen her in over a month. She had been so kind to assist you and help you get acclimated to your duties, you’d always be grateful to her.

“I thought you were under the weather,” she frowned. It was the excuse you had given to skip court with your ladies that day. Which wasn’t a complete lie. You were a little sore between your legs. But a warm bath had fixed that.

“I’m feeling quite better,” you said, standing upright, a dignified smile on your face--formal and curt.

Always be formal and curt with everyone. Your instinct was to hug her when you saw her after her month long trip, like you would to any of your sisters or friends, but you must always act like a queen since you were one.

“How was your trip?” you asked her as she hooked her arm in yours so you could both resume walking.

“It went alright. Mama wants to marry me off to the Duke Stark, the trip was some sort of matchmaking ploy,” she snorted.

“What’s wrong with Stark? He seems so charming.” You remember meeting him at your coronation ceremony. Where he had got you beautiful pearls from an exotic country.

“He maybe charming, but at the end of the day - he’s manwhore.”

You gasped incredulously, your hand over your mouth as you looked around to make sure your maids didn’t hear you, “Lady Sharon,” you chastised her, “We can’t use that sort of language.”

“Forgive me, your grace,” she apologized, “I often forget how naive you are.”

“What? Naive?” you huffed. “Not using such filthy language hardly makes me naive.”

“Live a little, all royals are debauched in one way or another. I’m surprised to see just how much of a square you are.”

“Is... is being a square a bad thing?” You wanted to know. You never thought of yourself as a conformist, in fact your mother used to tell you you’ll die an old maid if you didn’t start acting more like a lady and less like a spoilt brat.

“Sometimes it is...” she pondered. “Well, for instance, being a square in bed might be boring for some men.”

“What?” you gasped again. Tightening your grip on her arm and walking at a faster pace to put some distance between you and your maids, “Give us a minute,” you told them.

“Lady Sharon,” you looked into her blue eyes, much like your husbands but a little darker, “Have you ever been with a man?”

“I have,” she shrugged. “Just the one. He was my true love.”

“Bu – but you aren’t married.” You frowned.

“So?”

“So, how can you make love to anyone if you aren’t married...” Your mother had told you that making love only ever happened between a man and his wife.

“I... you do know what making love entails right? This is what I meant when I said you were too much of a square,” she chuckled.

“Don’t... don’t make fun of me...” you pouted.

“I’m sorry, your grace, it’s just,” she put a hand over her mouth as she cleared her throat, “Really funny. Two people, who aren’t married, can make love. Being married is good but not a requirement.”

“I suppose that makes sense, me and his majesty could do it even if we weren’t married...”

“Is he happy with you?” she wanted to know.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, you don’t know much about physical relations, and there needs to be a certain level of knowledge and experience for it to be good at it.”

“Do you think he is unsatisfied with me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “Does he seem unsatisfied?”

He was always asking for it. Which you preferred, because you’d die of embarrassment if you ever had to initiate it. You couldn’t go for too long without it either. He had went on a hunting trip for just a couple of days and you wanted to jump on him and keep him in your bed as soon as you saw him.

Why would he ask for it again and again if he was satisfied?

“I’m not sure... since you know so much about it would you give me some advice?”

“My, I would’ve thought you’d call me a harlot or a whore instead you’re asking for advice...” she smirked.

“Oh, I would never. That is what my mother would say, probably, but you’re my friend. Besides, I would want to make love to Steve even if we weren’t married, and if he was a stable boy.”

“A stable boy?” she quirked a blonde brow.

“Yes! And I would be me, a princess. It’s just a silly dream I used to have,” you shrugged. “What happened to your love? The one you lost?”

“He got married to someone else,” she stated. And although she was firm and sophisticated as always, you could hear his voice wavering and how much pain she was in.

“Oh my... I am so sorry, Sharon,” you said, engulfing her in a hug to comfort her, now that you do actually love someone, now that you know what loving someone deeply means, how overwhelming it can be, you couldn’t even imagine what losing that love would feel like. “You’ll find someone better.”

“There is no one better, your grace. But I’ll give you some advice,” she pulled away from you, putting some distance between you both, “You have to pay special attention to his balls. Many ladies tend to forget them.”

“Ball...? Like toys? I don’t believe he has any.”

“Your grace,” she rolled her eyes as she snickered, “He does have them. That is where your children will come from.”

“Um... what? Wouldn’t they come from...” you looked down, to the place between your legs. That’s where kids come from. That’s what you had been told.

“Well, yes, that is where they will pop out of. But the balls... the ones right behind his manhood, that’s where his seed comes from.”

“Oh...” you nodded as you realised what she was talking about. “So... what about the... balls?”

“Just pay special attention to them. He would like that. Suck on them, tug on them... but gently!” she chuckled as she realised she would have to talk down to you since you were so inexperienced.

“Oh... alright... anything else I can do?”

“Try to be more... active... instead of just sitting there and taking it you know?”

“Alright. I think I get the gist of it.”

“You ready for me, petal?” Steven asked as he looked down at you, naked and vulnerable, so beautiful and all his. He nudged his cock against your intimate lips, prodding at your entrance as he awaited your answer. He knew he could be too much for you sometimes, he was trying to do better. So he could make you love him at least half of as much as he loves you.

“Mm-hm... but um...” you trailed off. Not exactly knowing how you would go about asking to suck his balls.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if... I could... do that...” you fluttered your lashes, that usually got you whatever you wanted from him.

“And what is ‘that’?”

“You know... when you make me put my mouth on you...”

He didn’t usually make you use your mouth.

Most of the times Steven had a strict unofficial schedule he followed when it came to lovemaking. He wasn’t someone who liked or embraced change, he was always strategic, as a king and as your husband.

He’d kiss you till you were out of breath, then your neck, and then your breasts, he’d spend a long amount of time there, maybe because you liked that the most probably. And then he’d use his fingers to work you up, tasting you, eating you out and drinking your nectar.

That drove you mad, till you were on the brink of insanity.

You loved it as much as you hated it. You had never felt so out of control in your entire life. Not even when your parents told you they were going to marry you off to a kingdom far away, to a man you had never even met before.

Steven would complain that you thrashed and moved around too much, although he would encourage you to make all the noise that you wished. He pinned you down by your hips. Sometimes he’d make you make once, twice, thrice, it depended on how desperate he was to get his own release.

And then he’d have you on your back. Whispering the filthiest things to you as he fucked you, filled you up with his seed.

He’d hold you close to him, kissing your hair, kissing your cheeks and touching your ever so intimately. That was when you were the most clingy, you’d hold on so tightly to him. You were more vulnerable than usual. You would tell him about how, even though you love being the queen and his wife, it was so new and overwhelming, how you miss your family and your old life. How things had changed and so drastically. He’d always tell you that it would all be okay. That he would take care of you and never let anything bad ever happen to you.

Then he’d have you on your hands and knees. He told you he liked looking at your behind and spanking it.

After that you’d both fall asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and nudge you awake to love you some more. But he rarely ever made you suck him off.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he smirked as you meekly nodded. “Go right ahead then, petal. It’s all yours now, you don’t have to ask,” he told you as he sat up on his knees.

You looked at his cock. Hard and standing tall and proud up against his stomach. You now knew that being aroused made him hard and much much bigger. Maybe that’s why it’s often such a tasking job to take him--often leaving your cunt so sore.

Soft dark golden hair, much like that of his beard, and then you noticed them. His twin balls.

You took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth, suckling on his head, following your instincts and what he had taught you.

Your hand coming up and cupping his balls, massaging them gently in your hand. You stopped when you felt him go stiff.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth you looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?” as you wiped your spittle and his preejaculate off your mouth.

“No,” he shook his head. It wasn’t often that he was stunned. Not ever really. But you, taking that kind of initiative, to touch him without him asking for you to, did shock him just a little.

He held onto the back of your head, bringing his balls just next to your mouth, against your soft lips, “Suck on them,” he told you.

You suckled at one, working the other one with your hand as he pulled at the roots of your head.

“Fuck! Stop!” he heaved, pulling you away, “I have to save it for your beautiful cunt, my queen,” he told you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he pushed you back down on the mattress.

Swiftly entering you, you were still as tight as the night of your wedding, which meant he had to be patient while fucking you, and he tried. He really did. But he was not a patient man. Especially not when you had just put your mouth on him and worked your magic in mere seconds.

He put most of his weight on you as he slowly pushed in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

With your pussy hugging him so well, almost as if it was made for him, as if you were made by the gods just for him.

“What have you done to me?” he rasped, touching his damp forehead to yours. You had weaved some sort of magic on him, making him crazy for you. Now it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

You pressed a hand against your mouth to stop from giggling or making any sort of noise. Resting your back against the cool surface of the throne. You chose the back of the throne in the court as your place of hiding. Maybe it wasn’t the most strategic ploy but you were playing against a six year old.

Lila Barton had asked to play hide and seek with you. Only to receive a scolding from her nanny--to not bother the queen with such trivial matters.

It was as if you were reliving your childhood. You always felt you were made to grow up and be a lady too fast. With your mother and sisters telling you how important it was to act mature and be a lady, or you wouldn’t be able to marry well. Or marry at all.

So you jumped at the first opportunity to play with the kid. Making her count to twenty before looking for a place to hide. You had to go get your lessons for sewing so you didn’t have a lot of time, you hoped she would find you soon.

“But you’re not even considering it!”

You perked up when you heard the familiar voice, it was Lady Sharon! You had to thank her for all her advice, things had been going great with Steven ever since you listened to her. He had been opening up to you as well, although he was still as voracious in his love making. If anything... he wanted you even more now. Which you didn’t think could even be possible.

But some part of you absolutely loved it. And you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You peaked out to see her, to maybe call her to join you on the floor, hiding behind the large throne. You frowned when you saw that she was holding onto Steven’s arm, looking up at him with a certain desperation in her eyes.

“There is nothing to consider. I’m a married man. It would be adultery – a crime,” he stated.

“Bu – but you promised, you told me you didn’t love her. You said you didn’t have any other choice. I’m not asking you to leave her for me, I know that’s not possible. I’m not a fucking idiot like her.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth again to keep your sobs in, tears streaming down your face as you watched your husband, and his lover, have a lovers quarrel.

You couldn’t hear any more of it. Couldn’t bear it breaking your heart anymore than it already had. You quickly got up, fleeing out of the room by the back entrance - which the servants often used.

“You watch your mouth when you speak of the queen,” he yanked his arm free of her, putting some distance between himself and her, “I didn’t make any promises like that. I told you I intended to be faithful to her even if I didn’t love her.”

He knew it was a mistake to ever get involved with Sharon. He never wanted to be a womanizer. But he had his needs. He didn’t think she would become so obsessed with him. He had broken off their short fling as soon as he became betrothed to you.

He felt responsible for all the rumours about him and her and her ruined reputation. So he had arranged for her to marry his good friend Stark but she had her mind set on him.

“I like the queen. She’s a good friend of mine. I don’t intend to replace her,” she explained. She had no interest in being a queen and having such tedious and boring responsibilities anyway—the power and the status that came along with it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She pitied you and how you just weren’t made for the job.

“But she can’t satisfy you, she can’t give you what you need-- What I can give you,” Being the Kings mistress would probably be better than being a Duchess and marrying some boring old man.

“Won’t you even think about it?”

“No I won’t. And you are to never speak of this again,” he warned her.

“Your grace...” Lydia was completely confused. Standing there with your dress in her hands as you frantically stuffed your clothes in a chest.

She had never seen two people as in love as you and the king. When she first met you, it didn’t seem as if you and Steven would make a good couple. She assumed your marriage would be like any other she had seen. Cold and distant.

Steve had never been smitten with a woman, she always felt there maybe something wrong with him. But he had grown so fond of you in such a short time. Even going as far as asking you to live with him in his chambers. Having the king around often made her duties to you challenging. But she was happy for you.

“I don’t understand. What wrong? Why do you want to leave so suddenly.” Does the king approve of your sudden departure? If not would she get in trouble for it?

“He lied to me,” you sobbed. “I thought--” you let out a hiccup.

“Calm down,” she said as she rubbed your forearms. She wasn’t afraid to touch you in such friendly ways, you weren’t as stuck up as most royals.

You took a deep breath as you tried to explain to your handmaiden why you both had to leave as soon as possible. Before Steven gets back. You’ll move all your things to the room you were supposed to live in and just lock him out of your chambers.

“I would’ve been fine living on my own. Just being a wife and a queen. But he made me believe... that we could be more. That he loved me. It’s not true,” you shook your head. “He lied. He has another lover.”

“Oh,” she let out. She was disappointed on your behalf but not surprised. It would be strange if the king didn’t have any other lovers. “I’m sorry, your grace.”

“I’ll be fine,” you sniffled. “This'll be a good lesson for me. My mother always told me I have my head in the clouds and should live in reality. That’ll teach me to dream.”

It was almost funny for her to watch you babble nonsense, stable boys, princesses and backstabbing friends, take a break to cry your heart out and then resume packing and trying to order all the other servants.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone stopped moving as soon as they heard the kings voice. He of course looked at the Lydia for an explanation.

“The queen wants us to...”

“I’m moving back to my old chambers,” you briskly walked to him, standing right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He was much taller than you, making you crane your neck to actually get a good look at him, but you still tried to look intimidating and confrontational.

“Why?” he frowned. “Put everything back just as it was,” he ordered everyone.

“No!” you stomped your foot, looking very much like an indignant child who had his toy taken away, than a queen, “Don’t! We’re moving!” But of course nobody would listen to you over Steven. Not just because he was their king, but also because he was much more intimidating than you.

“Stop it!” he reprimanded you. “Whatever troubles you may have, we can sort them out together, but you are not moving back. And that’s the end of that.”

“No! I’m leaving! I’d like to see you try to stop me!” You hmphed. Pushing past him and making way for the door. You didn’t need to take your things with you now, you could just send for them later.

You screamed bloody murder when you felt Stevens arm around your stomach, as he threw you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye, “HELP!!” You yelled at the guards and your maids, who didn’t want to get involved, quickly scurrying out of the room.

“Ring the bell if you need anything, your grace,” Lydia said on her way out to you before she closed the door. It didn’t seem as if the king intended to do any real harm to you so she wasn’t that worried about you.

You kept on hitting his back, thrashing around his hold to break free, “Put me down!”

He threw you on your marital bed, his fingers making quick work of ridding him of his clothes so he could show you how he was just never going to let you go.

“Why do you even care? If I leave or not? You can just call for your lover!”

“My lover?” he frowned as he tried to push your skirts up your legs, which was proving to be a difficult task. Maybe he should’ve asked the maids to undress you before making them leave.

“Do you love her?” you asked, looking up at him and stopping your futile resistance for a few moments, your lips wobbly as you felt your vision blue with tears. You were born a princess, living a relatively sheltered life, never knowing pain so unbearable. As if you would never recover from this, you would never be the same.

You would never believe in love again.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, petal,” he said, getting frustrated with all the buttons and ties on your dress and ripping your skirt apart. Which he regretted, just a little because you started crying again.

“No! I like this dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said as he hovered over you, diving in to kiss your beautiful lips and make you stop saying such preposterous things.

You sniffled as you tried to push him away, making him gather your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

“Stop it,” he told you. “When will you understand that you belong to me now? If I say you have to live with me, here, then that’s what you’ll do.”

“I’m not your slave,” you retorted as you tried to wiggle your hands out of his grip.

“Stop listening to rumors! There are plenty going around. I do not have a lover.”

“No. I saw it with my own eyes. You and Lady Sharon. Just this afternoon.”

“What did you see?”

“I... she said she was your lover...?” You tried to think of what exactly had been said between them. But you couldn’t remember. You were blinded by your fury and your sorrow.

“We used to be lovers, before you and I ever met, but not anymore. I could never think of another, I could never love anyone else,” he said softly as he touched your cheek with his other hand, “You want to know why?”

“Why?” you pouted, feeling a little stupid now.

“Because you’ve ruined me, my queen. You’ve made me a lovesick fool. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. Do you want to know how much I love you?” he asked as you meekly nodded.

Pulling his cock out of breaches, he pushed your skirts up, exposing your thighs to him, he rubbed his cock along the slick of your pussy.

“Did fighting with me make you wet, my queen?” he asked, making you avert your gaze.

“I...” it was the way he had simply thrown you around, how he just wouldn’t let you leave, “Maybe...”

“Hm, don’t start picking fights with me for no reason though. My poor heart won’t be able to bear it,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks, wet from your tears. “You look beautiful when you cry, love, but I only want you crying when I’m fucking you, you understand?”

“Yes...”

He pushed inside you, you were tighter than usual, it was difficult to even properly enter you. The pain of it of course made you cry again. You sobbed into the crook of his neck as he shushed you.

“You feel my love, darling,” he asked as he was buried to the hilt inside you, “I’ll give you a child soon enough. Then you’ll have a living breathing proof of it,” he whispered in your ear as he started steadily moving, making sure that he won’t hurt you.

“I wish... I was your one and only... like you are mine,” you sniffled as you held on to him, soon it is wasn’t hurting as much, it was a little uncomfortable but you could bear through it.

“You are my one and only. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you love me, petal?”

He looked down at you, wanting you to say it. He needed you to love him, for you to say it to him, he needed to know you weren’t here just because you were scared of him.

“I love you, Steve,” you sniffled, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand.

He smiled at you, his hand trailing down both your bodies as he twisted your pearl between his fingers.

“It’s okay... it’s okay...” He kept telling you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your climax making your mind and your vision fuzzy.

“I’m going to fill you up, petal,” he told you as he finished inside you, staying inside you for a long while after he was done just to make sure you knew how he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

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