#i have a bad feeling that he won’t :/ but like?! there was objectively no reason for his plotline to continue in season 2 but it still did??

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

i’m rewatching only murders in the building and i am once again reminding everyone that theo dimas is the character of all time and i would kill and die for him.

[23sanguinity]

Why is it that I’m always the most dysphoric when my sensory issues are the worst I had to force myself to take off my binder and I can’t put on a sweater because I’ll overheat immediately and god I want to kill my uncle

[rinhaler]

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’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.

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.

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.

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.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[bunnylovesani]

Sleeping Beauty

Summary: Your roommate Anakin will go to any lengths necessary to get close to you, even ones you don’t know about.

Content warnings: dead dove do not eat, somnophilia, dubcon/noncon, drugging, violence, oral sex, p in v sex

WC: 3.4k

Work had been wringing you dry lately- so much so that when you’d finally claw your way to bed in the evenings, not even a tornado could rouse you. Your roommate, Anakin Skywalker noticed this- as he noticed everything else. Your mannerisms, your daily schedule, and all your little habits and quirks were committed to memory.

His prolonged glances and lingering touches raised no alarm bells in your mind, putting it down to his affectionate and slightly odd disposition. Sure, he was a little peculiar but your Ani was one of your best friends- always thoughtful, always caring and always there.

On one particularly exhausting evening, you sighed heavily as you traipsed in through the front door of your shared apartment. You always wondered why Anakin had any use for a roommate considering his prestigious job and the doubtless wealth that came along with it- but you just assumed he had a proclivity for modesty.

“Tough day?” He called out as you dropped your bag by the door with a heavy thud and followed the sound of his voice.

“You don’t know the half of it.” You sighed, slumping down onto the kitchen chair as you observed Anakin cooking, dirtied apron clinging to his toned abdomen. “What’s on the menu?”

“Your favourite.” He replied calmly, tipping the pan over slightly to show you a thick steak swimming in herbal butter.

“Wow. That looks- but…I’ve never told you that steak is my favourite.” You furrow your eyebrows and peer up at him in confusion.

“Well of course you have, silly.” He chuckles dismissively.

“No, Ani, I’m sure I haven’t. Have I?” You question, trying to recall a conversation in which you revealed your favourite meal but nothing was coming to mind.

“What have they been doing to you in that office?” He shakes his head and tuts. “Around when we first moved in, you told me how your dad always made steak on special occasions and how you came to associate the meal with good news.”

“I did?” The story is true, though you can’t for the life of you remember saying it.

“How else could I possibly know?” He smiles calmly and you relax. This new workload must really be doing a number on you.

“It’s so nice of you to make dinner but I was kinda thinking of going straight to bed- the exhaustion is killing my appetite. I go to sleep early but I still don’t feel well-rested for some reason…” You ramble on as he puts the sizzling pan to the side and turns to face you, leaning on the kitchen counter with his usually intense glare.

“Why don’t you take a sleeping pill?” He cocks his head to the side and you contemplate his suggestion. “I’ve got some low-dose ones, they’ll knock you right out and you won’t even feel it- I’ll go get them for you.”

“Wait, Ani- I don’t know-“

“They won’t make you drowsy in the morning, I promise.” Before you can object, he’s returned with a shiny tab of small white pills and is pouring you a glass of water.

“Alright, I suppose I’ll do anything to get one good night’s sleep.” You sigh, popping one of the tablets out of their foil casing and swallowing. “They’re the low-dose ones, yeah?”

“That’s what I said.” He smiles, watching you knock back your last sip of water intently.

“Thank you. Oh, but the steak- I feel really bad-“

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ll put it in the fridge, it’ll still be good tomorrow. You just go straight to bed.” He rests his calloused knuckles against the marble worktop, angry veins snaking up his smooth forearms.

“Really? You’re the best, Ani.” You rub his arm gratefully before wading over to your room, yawning.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He whispers once you’re out of earshot.

Just like he said he would, Anakin neatly put your dinner away, scrubbed the stove clean and did the dishes. Upon completion, he glanced at the ticking clock on the kitchen wall before swiping the tab of pills sitting on the counter and stuffing them back into their original packaging. Taking the box out of his pocket, he read the front of the pack: Diazepam- full strength.

Satisfied that enough time had passed, he walked over to your room and pressed his ear against the wooden door, waiting to hear signs you were sound asleep. Once he was happy with your soft snores and hums, he treaded the shaggy carpet and crept in.

You were swaddled in your covers and lying on your back, the teddy bear he bought you for your last birthday tucked lazily under your arm.

He stood there and admired you for a moment, heart warmed at how you cuddled his plushie every night without fail.

Exhaling a shaky breath, he approached the foot of your bed and cautiously peeled off your frilly duvet, leaving you exposed in your pink pyjama shorts and bralette. He’d seen it several times but the sight of your bare skin never failed to drive him wild; his self-control and morals flew out the window as soon as you were together like this- the cloudy stillness and quiet of your placid bedroom insulating you both from the outside world and its restrictions.

He reached out to lift your bralette, raising it just enough for your nipple to pop out and harden in the cool night air. His mouth watered at the sight, wanting so badly to lock his lips around it that his cock grew painfully hard and strained against his trousers.

Tracing his fingers down your hips, he hooked them around your little shorts and pulled on them gently, your cotton panties coming off with them.

He has to cover his mouth with an open palm to stop the groan from slipping out when he sees the glistening wetness nestled between your plush thighs.

“What are you dreaming about, princess?” He mutters as he rubs his thumbs against your inner thighs before carefully spreading them, ensuring your legs are wide open but comfortably supported by the surrounding pillows. He lowers himself so that he’s only a few inches away from your heat, taking in the glorious view before him.

He’d fallen in love the very moment he laid eyes on you- but he instantly got the sinking feeling that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. You saw him at most as a friend, a convenient guy to have around, a perfectly suitable roommate. He was under no illusions that you would ever requite his love- how could you when his feelings were so intense?

Deciding he couldn’t take it any longer, he unzipped his trousers and lowered his boxers, letting his heavy cock spring out and slap against his abdomen. Try as he may, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your lips, which fell into a pretty o shape as you peacefully snoozed. Some dribble gathered in the corner of your mouth and he couldn’t help but kneel and hover above you, staring. He needed to feel your lips on his cock.

Wrapping a hand around his veiny shaft, he pumped it with a couple of rough strokes before resting his blushed tip against your pink lips. The precum oozed out and smeared against your plump bottom lip, moistening it just enough for Anakin to slide his cockhead smoothly past it. He let out a soft moan as your mouth enveloped his throbbing cock, languid wet tongue brushing past it as he slowly glided in and out- the sight of his cock on your lips too much to bear.

Gently pushing his hips forward, he guided the tip to the back of your mouth, the ridged roof sending shivers down his spine. You moaned dreamily, the vibrations from your hums making his cock twitch. When you began to toss and turn, he quickly pulled out and took a step back- the thrill turning him on beyond belief.

Setting his sights on your unfurled legs, he creeps onto the bed and positions himself between them.

“What a pretty little pussy.” He shakes his head in disbelief, knowing he has never before and would never again see anything so beautiful.

Pushing his swollen tip between your folds, he gathers your slick and coats his length in it as he glides along your slit- your thighs involuntarily contracting a little every time he brushes past your clit.

The pained expression on Anakin’s face was apparent- he had never gone this far before. His chest tightened at the thought of violating you in this new way, both out of guilt and excitement. He relieved himself of culpability by assuring himself it was okay- he loved you and was just taking care of you. It’d been a while since you’d been with anyone and your frustration had begun to show- what kind of friend would he be if he let you suffer like that?

Spreading your folds apart with his thumb and forefinger, he gathered a glob of spit and let it dribble from his lips to your entrance before smearing it messily with his cock.

Lining the leaky tip against your opening, he delicately pushes in, stretching you out inch by inch. Even though it feels like torture to deny himself, Anakin sets a meticulously slow pace, paranoia chasing him. His girthy cock plunged into your cunt, bullying it into submission with painfully laboured thrusts.

Anakin bit his lip and scrunched his eyebrows at the sight of your tiny hole being stretched to full capacity, clenching needily around his length. He took this as confirmation that you needed him just as much as he needed you, deluded into believing your desire was apparent with the way your pussy gripped him.

Your breathing sped up and your heart rate rose- your body’s attempt at rousing you- but still, you remained asleep.

Anakin couldn’t believe his luck- he had been dreaming about what it’d be like to be inside you and now that your warmth had finally enveloped him, it was better than he could’ve ever imagined. He often scolded you for how naive you were but it was his favourite thing about you- the trust you felt for him was palpable in the way you gazed at him adoringly. The warm, wet comfort of your heat made him feel electric and he couldn’t help but want more- he wanted to lay hold of everything you had to give. He lifted you by the hips and impaled you onto his cock, forcing it even deeper until you were flush against him, the imprint of his member bulging through your lower stomach.

“Oh, baby…fuck.” He whimpered, barely above a whisper. “I wonder if you could take me this well when you’re awake.”

The room heated up with Anakin’s heavy breathing and your stuffy, sleepy moans. As roughly as he thought he could get away with, he pounded into you little by little, using your pussy like it was his to ruin. Your shared arousal gleamed in the dim moonlight, illuminating how his thick shaft disappeared into you with ease.

He tried not to grip your hips too roughly but with the way your pussy moulded around his cock like it was made for him, he couldn’t help but dig his fingernails into your flesh. The sight enraptured him so much that he didn’t even notice when your pretty eyes fluttered open, widening in shock.

The second your gazes met, he leapt to cover your mouth with his heavy palm.

“Don’t.” He breathed, crazed eyes daring you to scream just to show you what would happen.

You shook your head frantically, eyebrows swooping in distress.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet for me. Can you do that?” He continued thrusting into you, maintaining eye contact as he sunk his cock into your used-up pussy. You nodded hectically, wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Good, ‘cus I really wouldn’t wanna hurt you, baby.” He whined.

Now that he didn’t have to worry about waking you up, he could take you as roughly as he wanted. Stooping down to your chest, he popped a nipple into his mouth and sucked it forcefully, red marks streaking your breasts as he bit and drooled all over them.

“A-ani…what are you doing?” You cry out in utter disbelief after he releases the hand silencing you to knead your breast.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I jus’ couldn’t hold back anymore.” He moans as he brutally stuffs your pussy, the sound of lewd smacking reverberating around your cosy bedroom. “I couldn’t wait any longer.” He pulls away from your chest, drool hanging off his swollen lips.

“But I’ll make it up to you, baby.” His voice falters as he slams his hips into you sharply. He’s so deep your entire body feels overwhelmingly full.

“Just let me use you.” His husky voice makes you break out into a flurry of goosebumps as you clench frightfully around his girthy cock.

“You understand, right?” He questions but his hand has already snaked its way back up to your mouth. All you can respond with are muffled cries and whimpers, hushed by his thick palm. “I know you do, you’re my good girl.”

You look down to observe the frenzied way in which Anakin shatters his cock into your tiny cunt, wetness dribbling down your thighs and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum.” He growls to himself as beads of sweat roll down his forehead, blonde curls dampened.

“Nmmh!” You squeak, shaking your head in disapproval as best you could with the way he was restraining you.

“Oh yes I am. And you’re gonna love it.” He rolls his hips and sinks into you impossibly deep before pulling all the way out. “Look at that, doll. How are you so wet?” He gestures for you to look down at the way gloopy strands of arousal hang off his throbbing cock, the base soaked with your slick.

You observe with shock, writhing in confusion over how your body had betrayed you. You whine and sob as he slides back in, dragging you impossibly close to him as you claw at the pink sheets.

“Shh…I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he wraps his hands around your jaw, thumbs rubbing against your dampened cheeks comfortingly.

“I’m almost done, baby.” He rests his forehead against yours and you feel lightheaded from the sudden wave of body heat. His hands travel back down to your hips, raising your ass as he fucks up into you with dizzying speed.

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He mutters breathlessly. “I know you want to.”

You try to fight it but your back arches instinctively and your fingers dig into his shoulders as his cock stretches your aching pussy wide. He bottoms into you mercilessly and you feel as though you’re about to slip out of consciousness. With one last thrust, your body explodes into flames and the searingly pleasurable sensation travels to every last one of your nerves.

“That’s it, baby.” He speeds up, chasing his own high. “I knew you’d love my cock. Should’ve let me do this sooner.”

You pant as your heartbeat tries to regulate itself, sprawled and utterly fucked out. Anakin hovers above you, raising your thigh and pressing it against his chest as he ruts into you with feverish intensity. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he comes undone in a loud climax, throwing his head back as he shoots ropes of hot cum into your sore pussy.

Catching his breath, he shoots you a grin as he combs the messy curls out of his face, pulling his cock out and allowing the gloopy mess to run.

“Sorry about this, doll.” He shrugs before reaching for the lamp on your bedside table.

“Wait, Ani-“ You put your arm out but he pins it down by your side before knocking the metal base against your temple, rendering your whole world black.

The blinding light shining out of your bedroom window finally wakes you. You shield yourself from the sunny glare with an arm draped over your eyes, scrunching your face up when the pain radiating from your head suddenly hits you. Glancing over to the alarm clock on your bedside table, your heart almost jumps out of your throat. You were supposed to be at work hours ago yet here you still were, in your pyjamas and cosily tucked in.

You crawl out of bed as you try to piece together the broken fragments of your memory; did you forget to set the alarm? It must’ve been those sleeping pills Anakin gave you- so much for his promise that they wouldn’t make you drowsy. Before you can even reach the door, there’s a knock.

“Hey, you awake?” Anakin pops his head through and gives you a look of concern.

“Just woke up now. Somehow managed to completely sleep through the work day.” You shake your head, confusedly tapping at your bruised temple. “Those pills of yours have given me a killer migraine.”

“What? No, it can’t be from them- I’ve taken them a million times and never had any side effects.” He steps into the room and holds a flat palm up to your forehead. “Oh, honey. You’re burning up.”

“Am I?” You go to feel but he swats your hand away.

“You must have a fever.” He tuts. “Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll get you some painkillers for that poor head of yours?”

“I won’t be accepting any more drugs from you, thank you very much.” You laugh as you let him guide you back under your duvet.

“Completely understandable. My bad, doll.” He chuckles, folding in the edges of the blanket. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Get some rest.” He tries to take a step back but you instinctively grab onto his wrist.

“Wait.” You groan pathetically. “Can you stay with me for a little while?”

“Of course.” He flashes you that beaming smile of his and you’re struck by a sense of familiarity. He treads over to the other side of bed and joins you under the covers, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his chest.

“This is gonna sound strange, but…” Your mind races at a mile-a-minute as you come to grips with the sudden onset of images that have flooded your brain. “I think I might’ve dreamt about you.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrow and smirks. “What was it about?”

You struggle to put the pieces together; all you can see is a hazy vision of Anakin between your legs, bullying his cock into you as you lay there helpless.

“I can’t even say, it’s so messed up.” You shake the thoughts away, a shiver running through you.

“Sounds more like a nightmare, doll.” He tucks an unruly piece of hair behind your ear. “But it wasn’t real. Just a dream.”

“I know. You’d never do anything like that.” You scoff assuredly and he kisses the top of your head. His gentle touch seizes your chest and you have to focus on regulating your breathing. He’d never guess it but you’d had a fervid crush on Anakin for as long as you’d known him.

“You’re safe here with me.” He brings you closer and you snuggle deeper into his chest, subtly inhaling his sweet, musky scent, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Now get some rest, darling.” He strokes your hair comfortingly.

“Mmm…love you, Ani.” You unknowingly slip out in a quiet hum before drifting off to sleep.

Anakin seizes up in shock at your admission, total surprise consuming him. You loved him? He couldn’t stop the wide grin from unfurling across his blissful face nor the way his heart leapt with joy from the two simple words. He hadn’t ever allowed himself to treat this as a possibility- it was an undisputed fact that you were too good for him and he never let himself be deluded into thinking otherwise. The elation he felt in holding you in that moment, knowing you wanted to be held back was beyond words.

But just as quickly as the ecstasy flooded his veins, the solemn realisation of his sins hit him like a hammer. A nauseating sense of guilt and regret crept up on him like a maggot into a rose, casting a dark shadow on any future you could’ve had.

What had he done?

Taglist:

@bearryyy @w0rsh1psells @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @emmalandry @slut4starwarssmut @ghostlycrystobalove @iamjustaholeforyousir @billy-stu-wh0re3 @mousie101-blog @sweetcheesecakesblog @bardotsmuse @doestalker @kentaviax @slut4ani @cultofsin

୨୧ If you want to be removed from the Taglist or only want to be tagged for certain fics, please let me know ! ୨୧

[henry7931]

Haunted By A Horny Ghost

Travis:

6 months ago, I purchased my house and I got an amazing deal for it. Granted I’ve heard some of the rumors about it being haunted but I don’t really believe in that stuff. Or I didn’t until now!

I’d hear an occasional creaking of the stairs or some noise in the hallway. I always told myself that I’m just getting worked up from some made up story. And at no point did I actually see any evidence, no shadow figures, objects floating, idk things ghost do.

And I have a lot of personal stuff going on, being single and young can be tough. And I have a lot of bills to pay.

But a few weeks ago, my step dad’s nephew Brad (or my step cousin) came to me after a bad break up and needing somewhere to live— I figured a roommate for a little bit could help me save up some cash.

Brad is your typical straight guy, loves sports, goes to sport bars at night when he’s not at his construction job.

I figured living with him couldn’t be that bad. That said, in practicality he’s a bit of a slob at home and his room is a mess. Dirty laundry laying everywhere, he brings over his buds and girls over for late night hook ups. He can be a bit of a pain at times but I have to remember that I’m getting half of my mortgage paid right now.

But one night, Brad came home late like 2 in the morning. I was still up myself. I was supposed to have a guy come over that night since I knew I had the place to myself but unfortunately he cancelled last minute.

So I was a little drunk and horny. When I heard the Brad’s Uber pull up, I peaked out the window to see if he brought anyone home. Luckily, it was just him clumsy climbing out of the car.

As I watch him approach the door, I see him struggling to get it open.

I roll my eyes, I guess I’ll help him out.

I head to the stairs, when I hear the door finally open up. I start to turn back around when out of nowhere I hear Brad screaming on the top of his lungs.

I rush down the stairs only to see something that I never thought I’d ever see…

Brad is standing by the shut door while astral smoke shaped like a person forces itself down his throat.

Unsure what to do, I stood frozen in one spot. I watched whatever was forcing itself into Brad go all the way into him.

His eyes close… and then reopen. He takes a deep breath of air.

“God it feels so good to breathe again! Wait a minute, am I drunk??”

He starts laughing to myself and I try to back up. I take my back leg and try to step backwards. But the floor are wooden and old. As I step back, he hears it and looks directly at me.

“Oh it’s you! Travis right?”

“Ahhh shit!!!”

I rush up the stairs running in a panic. All I can hear in the background is Brad’s voice saying, “Wait!!! Stop running!!”

I get to my bedroom, I lock the door and try to think of a game plan to get out.

I look around my room, think to myself— I could tie my sheets together and go out the window.

That’s when I hear a knock.

“Travis, it’s me. I don’t know what all you saw but can we talk?”

What can I do? Risk the chance of breaking my neck by going out the window or reason with the ghost now inhabiting Brad not to kill me.

“Travis! I promise I’m not going to hurt you!! Please open up!” he says banging louder.

I look around my room for something I could use as a weapon but unfortunately the only thing I can find is a clothing hanger.

“Hey im going to open up but you better not try anything funny!” I say back to him holding the hanger in hand.

“You have my word, I won’t harm you.”

With the coat hanger in one hand, I carefully unlock the door and open it.

Standing outside of the door is Brad’s body, grinning at me.

“Well hi, what are you going to do with that coat hanger?”

“Protect myself!” I blurt out.

He starts laughing at me and says, “well fyi if you hit me with it you’re just hurting this guy. Plus, he’s a lot taller than you.”

“Fuck, fine.”

I lower the coat hanger and let him come in.

He glides into the room and he seems to be enjoying himself.

I watch him and he eventually says to me, “so ask the question you want to know the answer to.”

“Huh?”

“I know you want answers, so ask.”

“Okay… are you a ghost?”

“Yes”

“And is Brad still alive?”

“Also, yes— he’s in here but in like a dormant state while I drive.”

I feel somewhat realized to know that Brad’s okay.

“So why are you possessing Brad when I’ve been here longer.”

“Well who’s to say I haven’t possessed you?”

“WHAT?!?”

“Kidding, no Brad’s my first time taking over someone. I honestly wasn’t sure if it was due able but I did it! The real question you should be asking is what made me choose tonight to try and take over Brad.”

“Okay, why tonight?”

“Well… Travis, I’ve been watching you since you moved in. I hope that’s not too creepy. Being a ghost and stuck inside a house, leaves me with very little to do. But you and I have a lot in common. Both of us are gay, we share a lot of the same interests. Hell you and I even like the same porn. I guess what I’m saying is that, I have a bit of a crush on you. And after seeing you get stood up tonight, I felt like you deserve someone to uhh— keep you company.”

I was shocked, not only has a gay ghost been watching me for over six months but he’s now flirting with me?

“Sorry if this is a bit much but I find you to be so attractive. And now that I have a body, I was hoping you would be down to have a little fun together.”

“Uhhh I don’t know what to say, it’s a bit strange since that is Brad’s body.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t sneak into his room the other week and take his dirty socks just to jerk off while inhaling them.”

“Oh god you saw me do that?”

“Yeah and it was hot as fuck! Listen, I know Brad’s body may not be your first choice but he’s straight guy cute. And I know you’ve thought about him in ways you’d normally wouldn’t admit. But right now, I’m in control of him and you can do whatever you want with me.”

He starts pulling off all of Brad’s clothes until he’s fully naked. I can’t help but stare at Brad’s massive dick swinging between his legs.

He gets into my bed and reaches for Brad’s cock. He gingerly play with it while watching me.

“Travis, please join me. This cock is so eager right now, you can smell my big stinky feet. I haven’t bathed all day…”

He runs brads fingers between his taint and balls. He lifts up his hand and sniffs it.

“Fuccccckkk, you need to come get a whiff of my balls.”

I’m so hard now. I walk over to him and out for Brad’s left foot. I bring it up to my face and sniff it.

I feel myself slowly lose control of the situation and just accept all of the lust running through me.

“I knew you like these feet Trav. Here come taste this cock.”

He holds it up like a prize, I take it out of his hands and press the head of it to my lips.

It’s so warm… I lick the tip of it and rub my tongue down his shaft. When I get to his balls, I take in a breath. Just consuming the smell of them.

“That’s it, doesn’t that smell so good.”

“Mhmmm…”

I pull off my clothes and I notice his eyes go straight to my dick.

“You wanna touch it?” I say to him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch it.”

I come closer to him and he gently touches my dick. He makes a moaning sound and I notice pre-cum leaks out of Brad’s dick.

“You have the handsomest dick I’ve ever seen,” he says to me.

“Thanks haha.”

“No I mean it. You’re so cute Travis. Between your green eyes, brown curly hair, that freckle right above your happy trail, your sexy hairy legs, and those beautiful feet. Can I see them?”

“Sure.”

I let him take my feet into his hands and watch him press them against his face.

I let him lick my soles for a minute before he stops to say, “ you wanna take this up a notch?”

I nod my head and he pulls me in for a kiss. I can taste the whiskey Brad was drinking earlier.

We start making out and both of us are tangled up, our feet rubbing up and down on one another’s legs. Both of us have each other’s junk in our hand.

I feel around until I grab on to one of his butt cheeks.

He let’s do so much to him. Suck on his toes, sniff his pits, play with his nipples… and in return u let him do the same.

By the end, it’s morning. We’ve spent the entire night just edging each other.

By this point, he has Brad’s toes wrapped around my dick and I try to hold back but my cock has been toyed with for over 4 hours now.

I let out this loud moan and streams of cum squirt onto Brad’s feet.

He keeps stroking it with his toes until every last drop has been drained out of me.

He takes Brad’s cum soaked feet and licks every inch of them off.

He calls for me gesturing for me to finish him off.

I grab his dick and force it down my throat. I do it over and over until he immediately comes down it.

Both of us exhausted, lay back in my bed. I cuddled up to him and say, “hey thanks for tonight. By the way, what’s your actual name?”

“It’s Sebastian but you can call me Seb.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Seb.”

I curl up to him and soon pass out.

By one the next day, I wake up and thought last night may have been a weird dream. I look over and Seb isn’t in bed with me.

I get up to go pee and walk past Brad’s room. But to my surprise he’s not in bed.

I walk to the bathroom and see Brad naked looking at himself in the mirror.

He turns around to me and says, “Yo! What the hell Trav, have you heard of knocking?”

“Oh sorry Brad!”

“HAHAHA just messing with you! It’s me Seb.”

I feel blood rushing to my dick knowing that last night wasn’t a dream after all.

I walk over to pee and peak over at Seb.

He’s checking Brad’s body out in the mirror and starts flexing.

“I tried to leave his body this morning but I don’t really know how to…”

“Oh,” I say to him.

“Not that I’m in a rush to leave but I guess I really didn’t think this one through.”

“Well I don’t mind having you around.” I say to him.

I finish peeing and turn around to him. My eyes focus on Brad’s bubbly butt.

I grab his cheek and he lets out a yelping noise. I press my morning wood on his ass and he grins.

“Someone’s perky this morning.”

“I guess I’m just excited to have some more fun with my new ghost friend.”

“Well I have nothing better to do in the after life so I’m all yours for the day.”

I kiss him on his back and say, “whenever you’re done with the mirror come to my room.”

Seb follow me and we start an entire day of fooling around and talking.

I spend hours with his feet with my head at the end of the bed while does the same with mine. Both of us rubbing and playing with each toe. I just love how hairy and smelly they are.

Seb tells me about his previous life, how he used to live here and died from a freak accident one day. He seems like he’s been lonely all of these years.

“It was so refreshing seeing you move in, I was so bored for so long Trav. Then walks in this handsome guy.”

“Well my life hasn’t been too exciting either, I guess you can I’ve been lonely too.”

I feel him tickle my sole.

“Hey!”

“Sorry couldn’t resist!”

Days passed and Seb still could not figure out how to get out of Brad. Which I didn’t know if he was lying or not. I honestly didn’t want him to leave.

And by a month, Seb figured out Brad’s job and all of the things he needed to know to pretend to be him.

3 months in and we’re officially together. Seb loves all of the new video games he’s missed over the last 20 years while I just love watching him.

And we get soooo kinky! I’ll suck him off while he plays some game.

He even lets me tie him up. Which is sooo hot to me.

I’d like to think of that night as a fresh start for the both of us. And I couldn’t be happier with my horny ghost boyfriend!

[chilschuck]

Hear me out...

Witch/mage half-foot reader x chilchuck? Iy would be cute i think?

Maybe they have that carefree, mad hatter-y vibe that makes chil grow white hairs every single moment lol

(sorry for any mistakes, english isnt my first language)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA and i hope i did it justice!!! struggling to write for some reason lately but i got this out for you and i’m so happy that i finished it!!

— CHILCHUCK: x mage half-foot!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw + gn!reader!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 570

✦ hope this turned out okay!!! i am trying to get out at least one request a day! <3 enjoy!!

✦ You made it very known you were interested in joining the party, and Laios suggested it wouldn’t be too bad to have another magic user around. Since no one had really any objections to it, you became the party’s second half-foot member.

✦ With a smaller amount of mana than other races, you used your magic in smaller bursts. Even with having to be more observant of when you used it, you were definitely more of a carefree soul than the other members.

✦ Running headfirst into whatever monster made an appearance was common for you, and Chilchuck grabbing you by the collar and pulling you to safety with him was as well. You seemed to have a knack for making Chilchuck grow more gray hairs, whether it be by scaring the hell out of him with reckless behavior or disappearing for a span of time before popping up right behind him. (He didn’t want to guess what exactly you went off to do.)

✦ Chilchuck, when given the chance, would grab you by your shoulders to get onto you about your reckless behavior. To his dismay, you usually gave him that sly, carefree grin you always did. You two were definitely polar opposites in some regards, and Chilchuck had to routinely keep his heart from stopping when you put yourself in danger.

✦ That isn’t to say you weren’t skilled at what you do: even Chilchuck knew you had talent. It was more so that you had a bit more fun than needed, which caused the already older half-foot to feel like he’s aging more.

✦ All his concerns and reprimanding aside, he really did enjoy your company. Maybe it was your whimsical sort of outlook or the way you carried yourself, but he was definitely drawn to you. The first time he realized this was when you scared him so badly that he thought he had lost you. After letting him know you were fine and that it’s nothing some healing won’t fix up, he knew you had begun to grow on him.

✦ You made sure to tease him about his concern over your wellbeing, letting him know you were more than capable of taking care of yourself. Maybe even purposefully putting him on edge with some of your shenanigans just to see him freak out a little.

✦ Secretly, Chilchuck admired how gutsy you were, even if your mad hatter-like personality gave him heart palpitations. He wondered what it must be like to not have any concerns like that, sometimes catching his attention being solely on you and your work.

✦ It didn’t help that you and your personality were pretty charming, after all. Maybe he even found it cute how engrossed in certain aspects of magic you’d get. And how excited you got when you succeeded at something. Also how you’d sometimes catch yourself daydreaming and get lost in thought. The list goes on, much to his dismay.

✦ The half-foot would always deny it, but sometimes Marcille sees the way he looks at you and absolutely teases him. Apparently, it reminds her of a romance novel she read once, about a grumpy man and this mage that taught him how to live life to the fullest. Chilchuck swatted her away, trying his best to ignore the feeling in his chest at that. He definitely has some thinking to do… (And feelings to acknowledge!!)

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

All Press Is Good Press

A/N: This is part 2 to Bad PR. It feels like it took me way too long to write but I hope you enjoy it. Also, it's written with a black reader in mind and all credit goes to the original creators of the series and gifs.

Warnings: Some swearing, sensuality, and I was sick when I wrote this.

Word count: 9.3k

   

       “Run!” I shouted, shoving Marie behind me as Luke slowly approached us.

        My heart rate had slowed down dangerously, and I could hear my blood pulsing in my ears. Before I knew it, Luke’s body was ablaze and we flew at each other. At the last second, I set off my ability to block him from burning me and grabbed his shoulders.

        “Luke, breathe, it’s me, Y/N!” I pleaded.

        Luke’s eyes were both angry and hollow. “You were a part of this, you knew about this.”

       “I don’t know what you’re talking about but, if you extinguish yourself, we can talk about it,” I tried.

        “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

       He yelled as the fire around him increased and I felt my ability pushing against my skin as if it would rip itself out of me. But, I was desperate to put out his flames. I’d done it before and I could do it, had to do it again. The wind whirled around us and from the corner of my eye, I could see papers, fire, and other objects flying around us. Suddenly, the air around me felt hotter and something dark in Luke’s eyes flashed.

     I screamed as we flew several yards and he shoved me into the hard floor. Suddenly, the air stopped moving around me and I felt like I was suffocating under the heat. Luke kneeled above me and slowly wrapped his hand around my throat.

  “Luke…please…stop,” I begged, his hand warming with each word.

  I wanted to scream as he seared my neck but as soon as it started, it was over. Luke was suddenly off me and Jordan was standing in front of me in their masculine form.

   “Y/N, get out of here!” they yelled.

   “ I can’t believe you did that!” they seethed at me, moving as quickly as possible through the Crimefighting building hallway.

   It was the day after the joint interview with Marie and I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. I knew Jordan would be furious since I told them that I would get Marie to recant everything.

  “Jordan, I’m sorry, I can explain.”

  At that, they stopped and whirled around to face me, fury in their eyes. “Okay, explain. Explain how you and that freshman decided to royally screw me over and keep me at Number Five.”

 “It’s not that simple, Marie has way more going on and she’s not trying to hurt anyone.”

 “And what about you? You were already Number Three and then you play along to kick me out of the number two spot?” They laughed humorlessly. “And the fact that they had you in white, making you look like a saint and show off the burn scar and the cast to highlight your sacrifice, genius.”

   The more they spoke, the more I wanted to cry. “I know it’s messed up and I know that this has made things difficult for you, but I can fix it, I promise.”

  “Like Liza would let you.”

 “I don’t have to do everything she tells me.”

“But you do everything she tells you. You say what she wants you to say, you post what she wants you to post, you wear what she wants you to wear, and you date who she wants you to date.”

“You’re the one who broke up with me, remember? You’re the one who said you wanted me to focus on my career, right, well, that’s what’s a part of it.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “Just forget I said anything, I won’t bother you again.”

“Y/N…”

“Y/N, over here!”

  I flinched at the blinding camera lights but managed to smile, hand on my hip as I tried to reach all the best angles. The past couple of weeks had been a blur of flashing cameras, interviews, and tragedy. For some reason, school officials thought the best way to acknowledge all that was with a fundraising gala slash memorial for Brink.

   All the photographers were yelling different instructions and Liza hovered a few feet behind me, muttering notes. Turn my head this way, squint a little, laugh a little  It was eerily easy to smile for pictures, laugh when Andre messed up a TikTok challenge, and joke with some people on campus. For once, all the noise was nice, it was like a shield from anything bad. Then, when I was alone in my room, the thoughts came in.

   You’re a fraud. You should’ve partnered with Marie to give Jordan the credit during that interview. You weren’t strong enough to beat Luke, you never were. You’re weak and spineless. What did Jordan ever see in you? Sometimes tears came, sometimes they didn’t. It was probably a good thing that I was forced into attending this event.

   Liza had insisted I attend the gala that night, arguing that it would be bad publicity if one of Brink’s top students did not attend. Plus, it would not give the public a chance to see Andre and me interacting in a formal setting.

    After a couple of more pictures, I gestured to my parents, who were standing by Liza, to join me. They hesitated but Liza shooed them in my direction and they flanked me. When I took a second to look at them, they both looked so happy, not the kind of happy that I feigned but, true happiness.

     “You make this look easy sweetheart,” Dad chuckled.

      I sighed. “It’s all practice, Dad.”

      “Mr. Y/L/N, how do you feel about Y/N being a Guardian of Godolkin?” a reporter shouted.

       “Couldn’t be prouder of my little girl!” He called back.

       “She’s always been a hero and this is just another time she’s proved it!” Mom added, squeezing my side.

     I smiled sheepishly, the urge to tell the truth about that day bubbling in the back of my throat. Instead, I said, “It was nothing, I was trying to protect Marie and she didn’t really need my help.”

     Then, the crowd started to roar, and I glanced down the red carpet to see Andre and Polarity approaching us. They both had wide PR-approved smiles on as they posed together. When they reached us, Polarity shook hands with Dad, hugged Mom, and kissed my cheek.

      “It’s great to see you again,” he whispered before pulling away.

      “You too, Mr. Anderson,” I replied.

    Liza quickly coordinated our parents to move further up the red carpet and instructed Andre to stand on my right. “Her left is her best side.”

     He slowly wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I tried to relax my shoulders as the camera flashes continued. I couldn’t have been more grateful to Liza for not making us match. Instead, Andre’s light blue suit and my metallic silver halter gown were complimentary.

            “Andre, over here!”

            “They look great together!”

            “Andre, give her a kiss!”

            Andre laughed. “Not into PDA!” he called.

            “And we’re here as friends,” I added with a smile.

     Fortunately, Andre and I never had to do anything too intimate to garner attention. A few social media posts here and there and suddenly, we had the public filling in the dots that Vought wanted them to.

    After what felt like an eternity, Liza hurried us into the venue. The lighting was nice, not too bright nor too dark. Servers looped the area with flutes of champagne bubbling on top of their trays. A few alumni and upper-crust students were already mingling, all dressed in tuxes and gowns.

            “You two did perfectly, social media is going crazy about this,” Liza reported without looking up from either of her phones.

          “It’s not hard with a face like this,” Andre joked as he stroked his jaw.

            I laughed. “Please, I’m literally outshining you right now.”

            “I must say, you two do make a good couple,” Polarity commented.

            I smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

            “Now, don’t forget, we need you to get at least five shots together interacting with other attendees. Make it look natural, we don’t want to ruin the illusion,” Liza instructed.

            “Illusion is the right word,” I muttered.

            Liza arched an eyebrow at me and I stared back at her, offering a fake smile with a tilt of my head. “Watch the attitude, Y/N.”

            “Don’t worry, I’ll be delightful and charming to everyone I encounter,” I said.

      For a second, I glanced at Mom and thought I saw something flash across her eyes. Before I could address it, Andre gently pulled me further into the party.

     Schmoozing was an incredibly easy task. All one needed to do was smile, repeat the last thing the other person said as a question, and thank them for coming to the event. Andre and I spoke with around ten people, ensuring pictures were taken before we were left alone.

            “Nice job, partner,” Andre teased.

            “Back at ya,” I said, leaning on the table closest to us. “How long do we have to keep this up?”

            “An hour but, this,” Andre snagged a couple of champagne flutes from a passing server, “should make it go quicker.”             I smiled as I accepted the glass. “Thank you, but I meant this.” I gestured between the two of us.

            “What? Is there already trouble in the water?”

            “Please, Andre, I know I’m not your type. I’m not white nor am I taken.”

            Andre almost choked on his champagne and wiped his face. “What the hell are you talking about? “

            I rolled my eyes. “Cate’s my best friend, she tells me everything. But going after your best friend’s girlfriend, that’s pretty low.”

            “It’s complicated,” Andre muttered.

            I shrugged and downed the champagne. “How about we give it another couple of weeks and then you and Cate can go official and you won’t have to deal with fake cheating rumors?”

            “Y/N, I know this is a bad situation for both of us but, we’ve got to play it right.”

       Play it right, that’s all anyone was ever interested in. Finding the best angle or the best spin on things. It made me sick to my stomach knowing that all this had taken up the past five years of my life.

            “Don’t worry, I won’t use this as leverage to make you look bad,” I assured, setting my empty glass on a passing server’s tray.

            Andre opened his mouth to say something but cut himself off. “Sorry, I got to run to the bathroom. See you later?”

            “Sure.”

         As soon as he left, Dean Shetty and Marie appeared at my table.

           “Y/N, you are a star tonight,” Dean Shetty complimented, giving me a quick hug.

        Dean Shetty had been incredibly attentive in the last couple of weeks. Since the Luke incident, she insisted we had weekly check-ins and when I mentioned my sleeping issues, she gave me a prescription.

           “We can’t have one of our Guardians of Godolkin losing any sleep,” she’d said.

       With everything going on, it was nice to have someone as stable as Dean Shetty in my ear and in my corner. In our check ins, she truly listened to me and helped me make sense of the mess in my head.

            “Thank you, Dean, you don’t look too bad yourself,” I replied.

            “Y/N, wow,” Marie greeted.

            I smiled and gave her a side hug. “I could say the same to you.”

       She truly did look stunning in her floor-length red corset dress, her twists pulled away from her face. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she picked up the skirt to stand next to Dean Shetty.

            A server paused at our table. “More champagne?”

         I thanked her as I plucked another flute off the tray and started sipping.

            “You should be proud of Marie, Y/N, she’s done wonderfully tonight with our donors,” Dean Shetty said, squeezing Marie’s hand.

            The freshman smiled sheepishly. “I listened to Dean Shetty’s advice.”

            “You’re a quick learner and humble, that’s good,” I said, pointing at her.

            “I must also say that I am grateful that you joined us tonight. It would not have been the same without both of our Guardians of Godolkin,” Dean Shetty commented.

        No matter how much time passed, the name still made me cringe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marie scratch the back of her neck and stare down at the table.

            “Of course. Professor Brink was a large influence on my life and I’m glad that I was able to be here, honor his memory, and hopefully get more money for the school,” I replied.

            Dean Shetty seemed pleased and grabbed her clutch. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have a few other alumni to schmooze.

            As soon as she walked away, Marie slid closer to me. “How are you holding up?”

            “Great.” I downed the last of my champagne and used a breeze to slip another flute from a passing server’s tray into my hand.

            “Not to be a prude but, shouldn’t you slow down?” Marie asked.

            I smirked at her. “Don’t worry, Marie, I know my limits. This isn’t enough to get me to trip in my heels but hey, more people in your favor.”

            Marie sighed. “I’m sorry about you getting dragged into all this. This is never what I wanted.”

            “You didn’t drag me into anything; I knew what I was doing when I went along with the story,” I assured her. “Besides, you came to GOD U to be a hero, and you can’t be a hero without attention.”

          “But this wasn’t my plan. I was supposed to keep my head down and survive,” Marie argued.

          “Well, things rarely go to plan and your success has been fast-tracked, congratulations,” I muttered.

            “What’s going on? You seem a lot different since the last time we talked,” Marie commented.

            I swirled my glass. “Marie, I’m going to give you some advice, if you want to be a hero, you have to make sacrifices.”             “That’s something Brink wrote,” Marie thought out loud.

            “And he was right, but he left out the part where you don’t get to decide what to sacrifice. He also forgot to mention how you are a commodity and these people…these people who tell you that you are perfect and special turn around and say that there’s this one thing holding you back. You can keep this one thing but, you lose the money, the reputation, the followers, and the fans, and a hero is nothing without any of that,” I confessed. 

            “But, you have a choice,” Marie countered.

       No, I didn’t, no one did. But Marie would learn that eventually, and maybe we could sit down one day and compare notes. I laughed humorlessly at the thought and sipped more champagne.

            When would this night end?

            “Excuse me, are you Marie Moreau?” Mom asked, sidling next to me.

            Marie nodded. “Yes, I am.”

            “I must say it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Mrs. Y/L/N,” she greeted, extending a hand to Marie.

            “It’s nice to meet you,” Marie replied, shaking her hand.

            “Has Y/N been showing you the ropes of all this?” Mom asked, gesturing around us.

            “Yes, Y/N has been great with everything. I’m learning a lot from her,” Marie stated.

        I straightened up slowly and started drawing patterns on the tablecloth. “She’ll be Vought’s new favorite before we know it.”

       Marie flinched and her eyes widened while Mom looked at me as though I said there was a headless chicken doing laps outside. Honestly, I did not mean to be so surly but the words just slipped out.

            “Kidding,” I sang, downing the last of my champagne.

            “Do you mind if I borrow my daughter for a moment?” Mom asked.

            “Of course not.”

       Mom slowly guided me away from the table, taking a moment to pause and smile at the cameras as we made our way through the space. Her grip on my arm was firm----the way it tended to be whenever she was upset with something I did. When we were out of earshot from enough people, she turned to me.

            “Y/N, what is going on with you?” she asked.

            “Nothing, I’m having a great night. I’m wearing Laquan Smith, I’m drinking expensive champagne, everyone’s happy and smiling tonight; what else could I want?” I argued.

            “Do not lie to me, Y/N. You’ve looked miserable all night and I can’t stand it. Now tell me, you can tell me anything, honey, you know that.”

      Before Vought noticed me, it was relaxing to talk to my mom about everything: school, stress, crushes, and the future. Now, it felt like if I was not super positive, I would add a burden to her and Dad. They were doing so well now, and I was not going to mess that up. I could handle this, I’ve always been able to handle this.

       Then, when I looked back up at her, there was so much warmth and concern in her aging mahogany eyes. There was the slightest hint of a frown on her forehead and I suddenly felt this strange invisible weight lift from my shoulders.

            “I messed up so bad, Mom,” I whispered.

            “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

            “I messed up with everything. I’m barely hanging on in all my classes, my footwork is sloppy in training, and I totally screwed over Jordan, and they didn’t do anything to deserve it,” I rambled.

        Mom gently moved her hands to grasp my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. Tears burned my eyes but they wouldn’t fall as I embraced her warmth and the scent of peonies and lilac. She ran her hand over my head and hummed.

            “Nothing you said is anything you can’t fix,” she stated.

            I slowly pulled away and looked up at her. “What?”

            Mom sighed. “This is not the first time you have met a setback, Y/N. You’ve had plenty of them, from racist classmates to adjusting when Dad lost his job. You can improve your grades and work on your skills.”

           At her words, I nodded, wondering if I would know exactly what to say at that age.

            “What about Jordan?”

            “I know they make you happy and you would light up in their presence. So, I don’t think you two can’t make up,” Mom admitted.

            I rolled my eyes. “But what about Liza? If I go against her, I’ll lose all the backing and…and you and Dad will----”

            Mom held up a hand. “First of all, never roll your eyes at me. Second, your father and I will be fine. Our mortgage is paid, we both work now, and we’ll do just fine. Have you been worried about us all this time?”

            I nodded. “I know you really struggled before the Compound V took and I didn’t want to ruin anything for you two. You’ve been so happy, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

            “Y/N, you could never disappoint us. You have been so, so amazing your entire life. We’ve been so happy because we are just that proud of you and we know you’ll do amazing things,” Mom insisted. “Your happiness is important too, don’t ever forget that.”

       On instinct, I hugged her so tightly that I thought I would crush her. But, she patted my back to let me know that she was okay. Her laugh made me laugh and I felt like an idiot when I couldn’t stop laughing even when I pulled away.

            “But who says Jordan would take me back? They broke up with me and I played along with Vought and that must have hurt them.”

            “Try not to overthink it. Come on, their memorial video is about to start.”

      As the video played, I could barely focus on not looking at Jordan. They were sitting at a table with their parents across the room. Both were whispering animatedly to a suit while Jordan sat across from them, looking like they wanted to cry. Jordan rarely cried, not even when they dislocated their shoulder during a sparring match sophomore year. Their parents were always a difficult topic, and I was stunned when Jordan brought me to meet them during a parent's weekend.

            “Just try not to make any reference to my other form,” they’d insisted.

            “Okay, I won’t,” I’d replied.

       The Lis were nice enough but, they always referred to Jordan as “their son” or “my boy” or “he”. It made me nauseous just thinking about it and how many breakdowns they’d had about their parents not accepting them. I wanted to hug them or distract them with top-shelf liquor. Then, Jordan looked up at me and I knew exactly how deer felt in the headlights.

       My heart ached as I slowly turned away just in time to see a picture of myself and Brink flash across the screen. It was from sophomore year after I helped solve an ongoing serial robbery case. Jordan had helped me with that but insisted I did most of the heavy lifting.

      Finally, the video ended and I snatched another champagne flute from a passing server as Dean Shetty returned to the podium amidst the applause.

            “Professor Brink always had an eye for outstanding students, and I know that he would want all of you to continue your generosity to foster their talent. There are a couple of students I would like to highlight tonight,” she stated.

            Liza leaned over the table. “Remember, shoulders back, head up like a princess.”

            “Uh-huh,” I muttered.

            “And where is Andre? This would be a great photo op!” she hissed.

            “I don’t know.”

            “First is Marie Moreau, a freshman who has become an asset to our community as a Guardian of Godolkin, showcasing such courage and wit in the face of adversity.” Dean Shetty gestured to the left of the stage, where Marie stood and smiled at the applause. “Second is a name I know you are all very familiar with. Y/N Y/L/N has created a positive whirlwind before she stepped foot on our campus. She has used this whirlwind not only to inspire other young people to dedicate their time to philanthropy and their studies, but to assist Marie in protecting our campus.”

      The spotlight was harsh, but I took Liza’s advice and posed the best I could. I desperately wanted to look at Jordan, to tell them I did not want any of this, that I wanted them to have the credit, but I endured the second round of applause. When the applause ended and the spotlight went away, I grabbed my champagne.

            “Not bad, but your smile didn’t reach your eyes,” Liza noted.

            “I’ll work on it.”

     The bubbles tickled the back of my throat and I looked over at Jordan again. They were looking down at their hands as their parents continued speaking with a different suit. For a split second, I wished that I could switch powers with Cate and have an idea of what they were thinking.

“…and don’t forget to schmooze some other donors. Did you get pictures with Marie?” Liza droned.

“I think Y/N has done enough schmoozing for tonight, Liza,” Dad interrupted.

“Excuse me, Mr. Y/L/N, but my job is to make sure that your daughter is seen is the best possible light at all times and---”

“Would you all excuse me?” I asked, standing.

      Without waiting for a reply, I made my way across the room, ignoring some other kids who asked for pictures or donors who kept eyeing my backside. Once I was at the Lis table, I froze. I hadn’t prepared anything and my head was totally empty.

This was bad.

Just when I was about to sprint back to my chair, Mrs. Li noticed me.

            “Oh, Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” Mrs. Li exclaimed.

            Thankfully, my PR training kicked in.

            “Good evening, Mrs. Li. How are you?” I replied.

             She stood and hugged me for a few seconds “Oh, you look beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful, honey?” She turned to Mr. Li.

            “Yes, my boy knows how to pick ‘em,” Mr. Li said with a grin.

             I blinked back the shock of my words and smiled slowly. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

            “No, we were done,” Mrs. Li insisted.

     Suit Guy nodded and excused himself while Mrs. Li gently pulled me down to sit next to her. Jordan stared at me the same way they did when I disagreed with them on a floor plan on Property Brothers. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them.

            “Y/N, I must say, I was so sad when Jordan told us you broke up,” Mrs. Li admitted.

            That made two of us.

            “And it was so unexpected. You two were inseparable,” Mr. Li added.

            I nodded. “Yeah, well, things change.” I took a long swig of my champagne.  

            “And where are your parents tonight, Y/N?” Mr. Li asked.

            “They’re here. I think they’ve been talking Polarity’s ear off,” I replied.

            That wasn’t too much of a lie. Dad was happy taking pictures with him on the red carpet and Mom thought that he was okay.

            Mr. Li let out a low whistle. “Impressive. You and Andre do make a nice couple, no offense, Jordan.”

            “None taken, Dad,” they scoffed.

            I hesitated for a second. “We’re just friends…Andre and me, we’re just friends. We’ve just been hanging out a lot more lately.”

        For a second, I hoped Jordan listened to me but I couldn’t tell as their eyes wandered away from their parents and me. This was a mistake, such a stupid mistake. I had to get out of there, someway, somehow.

            Mr. Li raised his eyebrows. “My son may still have a chance?”

      I smiled as mysteriously as I could muster before downing the rest of my champagne. It did nothing to blot out the embarrassment rising from my neck and over my ears. Mrs. Li gently grabbed my uninjured hand in hers.

            “You’ve been so brave with all this, Y/N. Fighting Luke must have been terrifying. Oh, I couldn’t imagine!” she exclaimed.

      No, she couldn’t imagine seeing those glowing eyes every time she blinked nor tensing every time she had to go past Brink’s office to get to the super nice bathroom in the Crimefighting building. She couldn’t possibly imagine all the stupid questions she would get asked or the strange itching pain the burn around her neck caused.

            “It was,” I whispered, glancing at Jordan.

            They finally looked at me but this time, I was thankful they didn’t have laser vision. I quickly set aside my empty glass and turned back to Mrs. Li.

            “But you survived and sacrificed so much,” she added.

            “You could say that again,” I replied.

            “That’s Y/N, always sacrificing herself for someone else,” Jordan seethed.

      It was awful being on Jordan’s bad side and I was doing nothing but exacerbating the situation. There had to be some escape route that I could take. Someone I knew had to come by or someone could maybe ask for a picture.

            “Jordan, don’t be rude,” Mr. Li admonished. “I thought I raised my boy better than that.”

     There was something about Mr. Li’s tone that made my stomach lurch. Or maybe it was the distressed way Jordan looked away and was suddenly fascinated with the fairy lights that hung on the walls. All I knew was that I was slowly pulling away from Mrs. Li and straightening up.  

            “Did Jordan ever tell you how we first met?” I asked.

            “No, never,” Mr. Li said, glancing at Jordan.

            “It was freshman year during the mid-terms. I was slammed with so many assignments that I thought I was going to drown but before that, I would bomb all my classes, especially Brink’s. One night, I was in the library having a total meltdown because none of my index cards made any sense and there were only two days left until the exam.” I paused. “In the middle of my snot and tears, Jordan finds me surrounded by my notecards and books, picks up one of my notecards, and says, ‘I’d be crying too if I was studying something that wasn’t going to be on the exam’. Then, they sat down with me and helped me study. Totally saved my butt freshman year.”

      I left out the part about how they were in their feminine form and rolled their eyes every time I sniffled. But Mr. and Mrs. Li looked surprised but pleased at the same time.

            “I had no idea,” Mrs. Li said.

            “Yeah, Jordan’s always looking out for the people they care about, even if they won’t admit it.” I glanced at Jordan. “They deserve to be Number One in the Top Five and I hope that one day, I can be half the hero I know they will be. So, yes, Mr. Li, you raised a great child who will be a great person and I am happy to know them.”

      Though I could feel Jordan’s eyes on me, I quietly excused myself and slowly walked away. The lights and noise began to blur in front of me. Soon, I felt the tear slip down my cheek and hurried into the bathroom before anyone else could see.

            I immediately walked up to the sink and placed my hands on the counter. “Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I said in choked breaths.

      It was a difficult fete since the tears started falling as soon as the door closed behind me. I didn’t know why I was crying, I thought I did something positive. Maybe I was crying because I screwed up or I said too much to Marie. Maybe I was crying because I hadn’t cried since the night Jordan broke up with me. Their words tore a piece out of my chest, and I thought that I wouldn’t be able to get back. Maybe I never would.

            The bathroom door suddenly flew open, and I screamed, “GET OUT!” Sending a blast of wind with my bad hand.

      A loud bang and bright light followed, extinguishing the wind without incident. My eyes flew open, and I turned to find Jordan, in their feminine form leaning against the wall. They seemed unimpressed and angry.

            “Careful, don’t want you causing damage to another building,” they deadpanned.

            I swallowed and started wiping my tears. “Why are you in here?”

            “To ask you what the hell was that back there? You just bulldoze in our conversation and say…that?” Jordan said.  

            “I’m sorry, I guess I’m tipsier than I thought,” I muttered.

            “No, this isn’t you tipsy,” Jordan argued.

            “Fine, I got upset when your dad kept calling you ‘son’ and ‘boy’ and it just came out, okay?” I snapped. “I’m sorry I butt into your family stuff, it won’t happen again. We can go back to ignoring each other.”

            Jordan scoffed and walked closer to me. “You mean, you can go back to ignoring me?”

       Were they really arguing with me about ignoring each other? They had been ignoring me this whole time as well. No in-person conversations, no texts, no calls, not even social media interactions.

            “I’m not going to argue with you about this,” I said, my voice hoarse.

            “Look, I’m not going to pretend like after two weeks of nothing, it’s not insane that you would do that,” they continued

            “Okay, so I tried to do a nice thing for you and screwed it up, I’m sorry.”

            “I don’t want your apology.”

            “Then what do you want?” I glared at them. “I tried to fix the Luke and Brink mess but that backfired. Then, I tried to stand up for you in front of your parents, but I screwed that up too. Every time I try to do something nice for you, I end up hurting you instead and I’m tired of it. I don’t like hurting you and if we have to stay away from each other than fine.”

       Jordan was quiet for a long time and during that time, their eyes never left mine. They always had such a cutting gaze, like they could see through everyone and everything. Sometimes, I would be curious and terrified at what they would find if they stared at me long enough.

            “You didn’t hurt me tonight,” they whispered. “I just don’t understand why you did it.”

             I sighed. “Because I still care about you. It’s stupid, right? You broke my heart and I still care about you.”

            “Y/N…”

            I sniffled and turned away from them. “I should get cleaned up before heading back out there. I must look like a mess.”

            For a moment, the only sounds I heard were my sniffling and rifling for the paper towels to fix my makeup. As I dabbed the makeup Jordan whispered, “You never look like a mess.”

      The next time I spoke to Jordan was the day Tek Knight guest-lectured our class. The tall, slimy idiot made the side of my mouth twitch with each word he spoke. His show was ridiculous but maybe that was due to all the editing to make him seem normal. He spoke so grandiosely, and I wondered how Cate, Andre, and Jordan dealt with being interviewed by him.

            “I can’t stand this guy,” Marie whispered.

            “You and me both,” I muttered.

            “…and, as all you know,” Tek continued, “I am a master at interrogation and I would love to take this moment to show you proper technique. Now, I’ll need a volunteer.”      Fortunately, no one raised their hands and I went back to skimming some old class notes. Hopefully class would go by quickly, Dean Shetty couldn’t let this man prattle on the whole time, right?

            “Cyclone, one of our Guardians of Godolkin. Surely, you wouldn’t mind? It could make up for our missed interview,” Tek said with a slight edge to his voice.

            “You can call me Y/N and, fine.” I stood, straightened my blazer that I wore with a houndstooth mini skirt, and strolled down to the seat at the front of the class.

       All that was missing was a blinding light and a seedy interrogation room. I folded my hands in my lap and relaxed into the chair. This would be fine, nothing at all. I glanced at my classmates, offering Marie a small smile and locking eyes with Jordan for a second. I could get through this, Tek Knight was nothing.

            “Miss Y/L/N, I appreciate your participation,” Tek began. “Why don’t we start by going over the events of your friend, Luke’s, death?”

            I swallowed. “I have relayed the story many times, Mr. Knight, unless you didn’t see any of my interviews.”

        That earned a small laugh throughout the class and Tek’s jaw clenched but he smiled.

            “No, I can’t say that I have, I was too busy investigating the details of his death. So, humor me, please,” Tek requested. “What was that day like?”

            Easy.

            “It was a normal day. I had a morning class on forensics and then I had lunch with Cate. After lunch, I did some homework and I decided to go see Professor Brink about an assignment,” I said.

         That day, I did not need to talk to Brink but I had told the lie so much that no one would second guess it.

            “Your pupils just dilated, you’re lying,” Tek said in delight.

            I rolled my eyes. “I’ve told the story fifty times, I think I remember it correctly.”             “Ah, notice class just how defensive she got,” Tek instructed. “Why were you really there?”

     I paused again, my eyes glancing at Jordan. Their expression was unreadable but their jaw clenched for a moment. That day, I went to see Jordan and apologize for everything that happened with Liza since we had not spoken when we all went out the night before. However, Jordan was particularly icy about it and I ended up running into a frantic Marie.  

       A chill ran up my spine at the memory and I turned my attention back to Tek. He was waiting with bated breath and I wondered how much he got off on these.

      “I wanted to talk to Brink about an assignment,” I repeated.

      “Tell that to the sweat on your forehead but we’ll circle back to that. What happened when you got to his office?”

            “When I walked into the building, I saw Marie was in front of his office.”

            “And you didn’t think that was strange since she was a freshman?”

            I shook my head. “No, she was a fan of Brink’s work so it made sense that she would try to talk to him.”

            “Was anyone else there?”

            Yes.

            “No.”

            “Another lie. Who else was there, Y/N?”

            “Marie, Marie was the only person there.” I willed myself to calm down.

            Tek faced the class. “Notice, class, that Y/N is rubbing her hand on her forearm, a classic self-soothing gesture. We are one step closer to the truth!” Then, he whirled back around to me. “Who else was there, Y/N?”

            “Marie. I didn’t see anyone else.”             Tek shook a finger at me. “Oh, you’re a tough one, Y/N, and those are my favorites to break.”

            I huffed and glanced at Dean Shetty, who offered me a pity look. “Do you have any other questions?”

            “Plenty. What happened when you got to Brink’s office?”

            “Well, Marie was nervous to talk to Brink so I knocked on the door. There was no answer, and I opened it and I saw Luke burning him alive,” I said quietly.

            “The downcast eyes and lower tone suggest that not only is Miss Y/L/N telling the truth but there is emotional weight to it.” Tek gestured to me. “Please, continue.”

            “When Luke saw us, something was off with his eyes. He was…infuriated and he looked hurt.”

            “What did he say to you?”

            “He said that we shouldn’t have seen that and now we had to die.”

            “That must have been painful and scary, you had been friends for two years, correct?” Tek asked.

            “Yeah, around the time he and Cate started dating,” I confirmed.

            “What happened next?”

            “I told Marie to run and I tried to hold him off. We got into a pretty intense physical fight and I was able to extinguish his flames long enough for Marie to do some damage,” I reported.

            “We can see that it must have been very difficult with your injuries. What made you think that you could beat him?”

            I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

            “Well, according to your record, you’ve fought Luke three times, lost twice, and ended in a draw once. To go from that to disarming him is a large leap.”

       My heart rate started to pick up and I brushed a loc out of my face to distract myself. I just had to stay calm and answer everything with confidence. Confidence was all anyone needed, Liza preached it enough.

            “Yes, Luke was incredibly strong and near-impossible to beat,” I added.

            “But you’ve extinguished his flames before? And you still lost? How did that work?”

       It was an easy gig when Luke was caught off guard. The most I could ever do when sparring with him was play defense. I could feel the heat of his flames still and the flash in his eyes.

            “Just tell them what they want to hear,” Liza’s voice coached in my ear. “No one wants the truth, they want what we tell them.”

      But what was the point of that? Why couldn’t Jordan get the credit? What truth would that be hiding? That they’re a good hero? What was the point of me fake-dating Andre? Who were we placating? Why did I have to play to anything?

      Slowly, I glanced at Marie and then I glanced at Jordan. Marie looked like she was holding her breath while Jordan was hyper-focused. I wondered if Marie knew how insightful she was or could be.

            “It didn’t,” I stated.

      Tek smiled like the Cheshire cat and everyone’s expressions around the room shifted from bored focus to interest. My heart was pumping in my ears and my breath was starting to speed up, but I had to keep going.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I tried to extinguish Luke’s fire that day but it didn’t work. It had worked during one of our sparring sessions but, his guard was lower and I took advantage. The day he died, I panicked,” I reported.

            “The Cyclone panicked under pressure?” Tek asked.

            “Yes, I was scared. Luke was never malicious in our fights, and I could tell he wanted to kill me. Plus, I had to protect Marie but, I ended up making things worse.” I took another deep breath. “When I tried to extinguish the fire, I exacerbated it and set fire to almost everything around us. Luke tackled me to the ground, and I landed wrong, which is how I broke my wrist.”

            “That is a harrowing story, Miss Y/L/N. What happened to Marie?”

            I looked apologetically at her. “She ran and I didn’t see where she went. For a minute, I thought I accidentally got her burned too.” My eyes went back to Tek.

            “And how did you escape?” Tek asked.

            Here it goes.

            “Jordan stepped in and tackled him off me,” I admitted. “Because they’re indestructible in their male form, they weren’t hurt, and they were able to hold him off long enough for me to escape.”

            There, it was all out there. I felt lighter than I had in weeks, and I could have cried at the feeling. For a moment, I wondered why it took me so long to just admit the truth.

            “I thought you said there was no one else there?” Tek countered.

            “I lied.”

            “Why lie?”

            “Partially to protect and help Marie. This situation was beneficial for her, and I played along to help. But she also doesn’t need this to prove how great she’ll be one day.”

            “So, is Jordan part of the reason you were there that day?”

            “Yes,” I admitted. “They’re the reason I was at Brink’s.”

            “But why?”

            “That’s your favorite word,” I scoffed. “I lied to protect myself. I went to Brink’s office to see Jordan to apologize.”

            “Apologize for what?”

            “To apologize for the position I put them in.” I willed myself not to glance at them because if I did, they might telepathically make me shut up.

            Tek walked closer to me and leaned over me a little. “And what position is that?”

            “I made them feel like a burden when they weren’t, they never were,” I whispered, eyeing Tek.

            Tek nodded. “That’s right, you two were an item.”

            “They broke up with me because they thought they were helping me but, they couldn’t have been more wrong. Jordan challenged me and made me think deeper about things.” Tears burned my eyes but I kept pushing. “But the facts are that Jordan protected everyone from Luke, not me and not Marie. You can quote me on that.”

      I crossed my arms and noticed I was breathing harder than usual. Was this panic or relief? How could anyone tell the difference?

            Tek smiled like the Cheshire cat as he continued to circle me. “Notice how even though she got defensive, she is relaxed. Ladies and gentlemen, we have found the truth!”

       Some sporadic applause broke out and Tek leaned over to shake my hand, but I stood, brushed past him, and headed back to my seat. On the way, I could feel everyone’s eyes boring into me but for the first time in a long time, I could not have cared less. Marie was stunned when I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

            “What was that?” she whispered.

            “I’m sorry but you were right, I had a choice,” I whispered back.

     Marie hesitated but nodded as I turned and walked out of the class. Finally, the truth was out there, and it would spread like wildfire on Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. Part of me wondered how long it would take for the news to reach Liza and another part of me wondered how that conversation would go. She would be infuriated and try to work on a counterattack but, I also could not bring myself to care too much. I did care about how my parents would feel once they found out. They had no idea that I lied.

      The sun was brighter than usual and the students frantically typing on their laptops or talking on their phones were productive, not overly stressed. There was a sense of calm over campus, and it made for a nice ambiance for my walk back to my dorm. As soon as I walked in, I got a FaceTime call from Cate.

            “Okay, what was that with Tek Knight?” she interrogated.

            “Wow, those kids work fast,” I commented, setting my bag on my desk.

            “Seriously. Did you skip the interview so you could do…that?”

            “First of all, I skipped the interview because I had a shoot with Nike that I was contractually obligated to. Second of all, Tek wanted the truth and I gave it to him.”

            I flopped down on my bed and propped my phone on my side table so that I could see Cate’s frowning face which was a mixture of shock and pride.

            “Well, I know this is super therapist-y of me to ask but how are you feeling?” she asked.

            “I feel light. It’s true about the truth setting you free, you know. I feel like I can fly,” I drawled, stretching myself out further on my bed.

            “Technically, you can already fly,” Cate teased.

            “Not the point, Cate. I didn’t realize how much Vought and Liza caged me in. If this is what they did to me, I can’t imagine what they did to Luke.”

            Cate hummed, a solemn expression rolling across her pretty features. “I knew he was under a lot of pressure but…” Cate cut herself off. “Anyway, I am happy that you are feeling better; you can only hold things in for so long before you snap.”

            “Like you would let me snap,” I teased.

            “Of course. Are you worried about your parents?” Cate asked.

            I shrugged. “Only the fact that they had no idea I lied about any of this. I told you how my mom and I had a heart-to-heart at the gala. They want me to be happy and this feels like a good start.”

            “I want you happy too. I gotta get back to psych before Professor Banks sends someone looking for me.”

      As soon as she clicked off, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and rolled onto my back. This seemed like a fantastic moment for less noise.

            Knock! Knock! Knock!

            Or not.

            I huffed as I pushed myself off the bed and made my way to the door. “I am not going to do any of those stupid TikTok interviews or----”I stopped when I saw Jordan staring back at me.

            “Sorry, I didn’t come by for a statement,” they muttered.

            “N-no, it’s fine.” I stepped aside and they quickly brushed past me.

     As I closed the door behind me, I willed my heartbeat to slow to a normal rate and wiped my palms on my skirt. Jordan dropped their bag in the middle of the room and whirled around to face me.

            “Why did you do that?” they demanded.

            “I wanted to tell the truth,” I answered.

            Jordan laughed humorlessly and rolled their eyes. “Sure you did. Is this another ploy from Liza that you’re playing along with? I’m wondering how exactly this is going to screw me and make you look better.”

            I shook my head and took a couple of steps closer to them. “There’s no ploy! You’ll believe me when the rankings come out.”

            “Oh, I’m sure nothing will change except you might be at Number One this time,” they seethed.

            “Why are you mad at me? I did what you’ve been asking me to do since this whole thing started.”

            “But I didn’t want you to make yourself look bad in the process!” they exclaimed.

    As their words sunk in, I had a chance to think. Class was not over for another thirty minutes, and Jordan never skipped class unless they were deathly ill. At the gala, I did not see Jordan or their parents until I approached them. At the time, I thought they were avoiding an awkward conversation----that still happened-----but now, I wondered if they were trying to protect me or themselves from something. When we broke up, they disappeared until that night Cate practically forced me to go out with everyone and even then, we never spoke. I thought they were avoiding me because they were angry but maybe they were hurt. And when they yelled at me to run from Luke, they almost sounded…scared.

            What did that mean?

     Slowly, I closed the distance between us, swallowing at the tension rising in the room. “I don’t care about rankings or social media engagement right now. If anything happens, I can bounce back but like I said the other night, I care about you and I am tired of hurting you. I know that my lying about what happened with Luke and Brink was messed up and must have caused a different kind of pain and I wanted to make it right.”

            “There’s still smarter ways of doing that, Y/N. Did you coordinate with Liza or something? And what about Marie?” Jordan rattled.

            “No, I decided on my own and Marie inspired me to do it. I had a choice, and I made the right one,” I argued. “Can you please just enjoy the glory and attention you’ll get from this and stop trying to poke holes in it?”

            Jordan shook their head. “No, not when I know there’s an angle to this.”

            “You want an angle? Here’s your angle: I love you and I wanted to help you, just like I tried to at the gala. If it lowers my ranking or makes me lose followers, I don’t care!” I announced. “I am sick of spending hours making sure total strangers like me and avoiding mistakes. I can help other black girls outside of being a hero, through charity or promoting positive representations of us in media. So please, for the love of all that is good in the world, just accept what I did and enjoy the benefits!”

     It was only when the silence filled the room that I realized what I had said. My face immediately warmed, and I felt kind of nauseous. The fact that we never really said the L-word to each other in a year and a half of dating was ludicrous but, we agreed that we did not have to say it if we felt it from each other. It sounded great at the time but the truth was that saying it out loud made it more real.

     Suddenly, my dorm did not feel like the safe space where I could cry, binge-watch Psych, or share a joint with Cate. I suddenly felt like a child again as Jordan stared at me wide-eyed. After a few seconds, they spoke.

            “Oh.”

    Great, that’s what every girl wants to hear after they confess their feelings to their ex. I ran my hands through my locs and started walking towards the door.

            “You can go now. Just try to keep the gloating to a minimum,” I whispered.

    Before I could make it to the door, I felt a familiar strong hand grip my good arm and pull me closer. I did not have time to react as Jordan pressed their lips against mine. This kiss was much different than any kiss we’d ever had, well, any kiss that I ever had. There was pain, passion, anger, lust, and tenderness.

             They slowly pulled away, barely a millimeter from my face, and I exhaled. “You don’t get to ruin your career for me, say that, and then kick me out of your dorm,” they growled lowly.

   A tingle ran up my spine as I leaned forward to kiss them again. It was strange that I had almost forgotten how good they were at this, how much I missed this feeling with them. I felt their hands run up the nape of my neck and pull gently on a couple of locs. I pulled away for a second.

            “You didn’t give me a chance to fight for us,” I muttered.

            Jordan sighed, trailing their hand from my hair to the back of my shoulders. “I didn’t think…I didn’t think I was worth it.”

             “Of course you are, you always were,” I insisted.

            Something lit in their eyes and Jordan smiled so widely that I thought they might crack. They gently pulled me in closer for a hug, scratching my back with featherlight touches.

            “I’m sorry I broke up with you,” they whispered into my shoulder.

            “I’m sorry that I made you think you had to break up with me,” I replied. “Thank you for saving me from Luke, sorry for lying about that again.”

            They groaned. “Please stop apologizing for that.”

            I laughed. “Okay.”

            “Besides,” they stood to their full height, “I didn’t do that great of a job.”

     Their eyes zeroed in on my bruised neck and then glided to my injured wrist. It was as though I could sense the doubt rising within them and I grabbed their face.

            “Hey, this was my fault, not yours. I’m here in one piece because of you, never forget that, okay?”

            “Well, I guess when you put it that way…” They smirked and I swatted their arm with my good hand.

            “Seriously, do not get a big head from this,” I instructed.

            “No promises,” They teased. “So, what now? I mean, I know you love me and all but where do we go from here?”

            “You know how I feel and I’ve done enough heart-opening speeches for one day. But, I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about getting back with you ever since you broke up with me,” I said.

            “Well,” Jordan rocked back on their heels, “I would also be lying if I said that I haven’t thought about getting back with you too and those posts with you and Andre drove me nuts.”

            I raised an eyebrow. “You were jealous?”

            Jordan looked away from me for a moment. “He was looking at you all weird and flirty.”             “It was a fake relationship and you got fooled!” I cheered.

            “It didn’t look fake on his end,” Jordan grumbled.

            “Aww, is little Jordan feeling a little sad still?” I sang in a baby voice.

            “Don’t do that voice, Y/N,” Jordan warned.

            “Or what?”

    Quickly, Jordan’s hands started tapping on my sides in rapid succession and I could hold the giant laugh down. Somehow, I wriggled out of their grasp and made a run for it. I made it about halfway across the room before they tackled me into my bed, continuing their attack. I laughed so hard that tears were rolling down my face. After a few moments, they stopped, laughing as well and slowly playing with the hem of my shirt.

            “Seriously, though, what do we do now?” Jordan asked, slightly out of breath.

            I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Well, I’m open to sneaking around to ease us back into things but I’m also open to suggestions.”             Jordan’s hands slowly moved to rub my sides. “Then I would suggest that we pick up where we left off, if that’s okay with you.”

            I hummed, pretending to think about it, before quickly pecking their lips. “Of course, that’s fine with me!”

            “And you’re sure you don’t care what Liza says?”

            I nodded. “Can we please stop talking about her? You have a lot of making up to do.”

            “Me? You’re the one who chose a freshman over me.”

            “She had a compelling story!”

   I didn’t see Liza’s frantic missed calls or texts hours after Jordan and I competed to see who could “make up” the best. I didn’t see any of the memes or clips from Tek’s interrogation of me either. I didn’t even see the comments on our Instagram official post. All I knew was that I was at peace for maybe the third time in my life and I was not going to let anything get in the way of it again.

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: instructor!mav, student x teacher relationship, power imbalance, angst if you squint?, age gap, office sex, oral sex (m receiving), penetration, cockwarming

word count: 1875

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

It takes Maverick about a minute to notice you standing in the doorway to his office. He’s swamped with paperwork, his pen nearly running out of ink at the scrabbling he’s been doing the past couple of hours. It seems you’d both ended up with irritable days, hence the reason you found yourself here in the first place.

It was late, thank God, and no one was really around anymore and you really didn’t feel like leaving base and spending the rest of the evening sulking alone at home. You knew that Captain Mitchell was staying in late, knew that if you didn’t wander in to see him, you might not see him at all over the next couple of days.

It was a bad habit he had. He gave you too much space. 

“Lieutenant,” he greets you now, a small smile curving the end of his mouth at the sight of you.

You ignore his propriety, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. You try to match his smile. “Hi, Mav.”

He immediately drops the act. Eyes darting from you to the closed door, he asks in a hushed voice, “What are you doing?” 

You approach his desk, your failed smile replaced by a frown. You want to hug him. You want him to hug you, you mean. To make it all better. You’re not sure how to ask for that, though.

“Just wanted to see you,” you say instead, curious hands reaching for the objects on his desk. 

He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes each object from your hands, placing them back in their spot as you move them. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, sweetheart.”

Your heart sinks a little at the rejection, and he seems to notice the disappointment cross your face. 

“Come here,” he says then, beckoning you over with a single nod.

You step behind the desk and into his space, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. It’s risky; you didn’t lock the door and the blinds aren’t fully shut, but the kiss lasts maybe two seconds. It’s fine.

Mav smiles and looks up at you with a soft glint in his eyes, the one that reads I’ll see you soon, okay? It’s the look he gives you every time he sneaks out of your house, or drops you off. You’ve started to dread it. There’s so much uncertainty that comes with it. Every single time you see him after that affectionate look, he’s just your instructor again. The affection is gone and you’re never sure when it’ll return. It doesn’t matter how much you ache for him. 

Boy, how badly you ache for him now. A kiss is never enough.

You’re almost going to swallow your pride and leave his office, seemingly satisfied with the one little kiss, until your eyes land on his lap. Then at his paperwork, then at the door.

He cocks an eyebrow, curious.

Fuck. You slowly stride over to the door, battling with your choices, but decide you have no intention of leaving. 

“Wh–” Maverick sits up straight at the sound of the door locking, and then watches as you move towards the windows to start shutting the blinds all the way. “What are you doing?”

“I wanna try something,” you say confidently, like he already gave you permission.

“Try something?”

“Mhm.” You shut the last set, take a step back to make sure they’re all closed and then turn your attention to him again. “Blinds shut, door locked. I think you’ve left for the day.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He drops his pen instead, tilting his head as he tries to figure out what it is you’re planning.

He sort of gets an idea when he notices your eyes scanning his side of the desk.

“Baby, I do have a lot of work to do.”

You smile. “And if I promise you won’t get your hands dirty? At all?”

Mav chuckles, shakes his head like it’s the most absurd idea he’s ever heard. It might be, you think, but it’s something you can pull off. The door is locked, after all.

“I think we’d be really stupid if we tried,” he admits, though his smile doesn’t falter.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reiterate. “I just want to sit there. You can continue working.”

It’s like he opens his mouth to protest again, but then his lips press together instead, and he beckons you toward him with a nod like before.

Excitement fills you as he scoots his chair back to grant you access.

It’s hard to get on your knees in the cramped space underneath the desk, so you have to urge Mav to move his chair back with a gentle push to his legs. He complies, does his best to make as much room for you as he can. You find that you’re sort of shaky when your fingers pry at the button on his jeans, so he helps you with that, too. The position is slightly ridiculous, the chair a little higher than it should be, so you end up on your haunches when you pull his cock out of his briefs, and then sort of yank his garments down with your other hand for easier access. 

His eyes are still nervously peering at the closed blinds, making sure there aren’t any shapes or sounds coming from behind them, but you ease his worries when you take his shaft into your mouth. There’s no time to prolong this, so you get right to it; you take him in as much as you can, using a hand to stroke him at the same time. His knuckles are white from gripping the arms of his chair as he hardens in your mouth. Stifled groans leave his lips, filthy wet ones coming from yours. 

He throws his head back in silent satisfaction when you swirl your tongue around the tip, and accidentally groans out loud when you dip your head and trace your tongue down, and then back up his frenulum.

The noise he makes reminds you that you’re not supposed to make him cum here, that this is something different, and you pull back after a minute or so. Maverick is biting down hard on his lip, watches as you stand up off your haunches and immediately work your pants off. He shifts in his seat, positions himself as best he can for you.

With your pants completely off and kicked aside, you grab onto his shoulders and mount yourself atop his lap. Hovering above him, you reach down to grab him and line yourself up with him the best you can; usually he would do that for you but you did promise he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. 

“No moving,” you prompt, exhaling softly at the feel of his tip against your slit.

You whimper at the stretch—it stings just a little from lack of foreplay—but gradually sink onto him little by little. You let your body accommodate him, feel yourself growing wetter around him before you sink any lower. He tenses up, tries to minimize his reaction by gritting his teeth. The long groan that leaves his mouth is inevitable when you fully slip onto his lap, his cock buried inside you to the hilt. Christ, this is gonna be harder than you thought.

He seems to think so too, as his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Sweetheart, I don’t—I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he groans.

“Just get back to work,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His hands leave your waist to resume his task, but his breathing remains heavy near your ear. You relax into him, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. You’ve got your hug. This is all you wanted today.

Maverick scoots his chair forward as best he can, picks up his pen and shuffles through his papers. 

You try not to clench around him, a very difficult problem when he scoots forward slightly a second time, his balls rubbing up into your clit. You try to focus on something else, on his scent, past him at the frames on the wall, on the bits of light coming in through the blinds.

A minute passes.

Two minutes pass.

Three, and Mav still hasn’t touched pen to paper yet, clearly dazed by the situation. His eyes skim over the words he’s already written instead, trying to give his brain an idea on where to get started again. 

He wants to move very badly. It’s a terrible itch he needs to scratch.

He starts to think that this is maybe a form of torture. You try not to think much of it, try to pretend this is the hug you were here for, and it sort of works. Sort of. His cock prods at a very delicious spot inside you the more he begins to shift his hips, and it becomes harder and harder to stay still.

It’s when you hear his pen drop and roll across the desk that you realize Maverick is not so fond of your idea. Get back to work how, he must be thinking, and God, you hope he’s not frustrated that this whole ordeal probably just set him back. 

If he is, he doesn’t show it, instead wrapping his arms around you and inadvertently rolling his hips underneath you. You gasp, taken by sudden surprise, clasping a hand over your mouth when his hips jerk a second time.

“Mav,” you whisper. “I said—fuck, I said no moving.”

He scoffs, bows his head to lazily kiss at your collarbone. “You’re killing me. I’ll never go back to work like this.”

You bite back a moan. “I promised you wouldn’t get your hands dirty. I just wanted to sit he–”

He shuts you up with a sharp, fully intended snap of his hips. His arms drop to cup the bottom of your thighs, and neither of you care anymore after the first stroke. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room and it’s hard not to make any additional noise, suppressing your moans into little whines instead. Maverick starts fucking into you as if it were the first time, as if he’d never felt something so good before. 

Neither of you last very long.

Maverick’s thrusts get sloppy when you’re both seconds away, his tiring pace beginning to stumble. He’s smart enough to take you in for a deep kiss when you both cum at the same time, your quiet, high-pitched noises trapped in between your mouths. He continues kissing you through your unplanned orgasm, tongue licking against yours.

When he pulls back, you’re both panting heavily, savoring the glow. 

He helps you off of him eventually. Your legs are a little sore and shaky, and you clumsily stumble back against his desk. Maverick’s good reflexes prevent your fall, an arm around your waist, and you avoid landing on his messy stack of paperwork. You can’t help but snicker at how absurd this really was.

Maverick, on the other hand, has a smirk on his face at the sight of you propped over his desk.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Kite hcs PLEASSEE i saw ur post abt him, the anon was right theres NOTHING on this man, if im lucky i can find a decent fic😔 ANYWAYS THANK U SMM

Kite SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: oral(female and male receiving), creampie, fingering, fem!reader

!!REQUESTS OPEN!!

SFW

-this man is so affectionate behind closed doors. he loves to hold you, give you tender kisses

-he has very long hair, and lets you do anything you want with it! he will 100% wear little pink hair bows to work if you put them there!

-he’s such a softy. can’t be mad at you or upset for more than a second. you’re just so cute, he’ll just pay your head and say how spoiled you are

-he enjoys taking you out for nice, quiet dinners where he gets to see you all dressed up

-kite prefers giving you more sentimental, hand made gifts! like photo albums of your time together, baked goods, or cards he cut out himself

-he has a hard time relaxing when he’s away from guy for long periods of time. he doesn’t want to involve you with his work, but tries to be with you as much as possible

-he’s very patient, and it takes him nearly two years to confess his feelings to you. he knew he was in love when he watched you save an animal, despite the fact it was trying to kill you. he smacked you over the head after, but was touched by your kindness. that didn’t stop him from scolding you for putting yourself in danger lol

-he actually dislikes receiving gifts! he’d much rather just bask in your presence and get extra kisses than receive a material object

-he’s really bad at cooking, but a decent baker! he likes to make you lots of different sweets when you’re sad to cheer you up! he’s pretty good at baking bread as well~

-he can get pretty jealous. he’s a bit insecure, feeling like he doesn’t give you enough attention due to his job, so when he sees you hanging out with other men he feels… possessive. he won’t do anything, but will be a bit cranky. this can be solved by cupping his cheeks and reassuring him how much you love him!

-would love to get married and settle down in the near future. he sees a future with you, and wants to slip a ring on your pretty little finger as soon as he deals with that chimera ant situation…

-he will let you use any pet names with him, no matter how cheesy, he finds it absolutely adorable

NSFW

-he’s very much focused on your pleasure, making you cum on his tongue and fingers several times before he even THINKS about fucking you

-soft dom…

-he’s an ass guy, though feeling your thighs squishing his cheeks while he eats you out is also quite nice…

-likes to cum inside mostly, not for any particular reason, you just feel nice and warm and he’d prefer staying inside you as long as possible!

-he loves fingering you, curling them inside your cunt and feeling your walls tighten around them… makes him hard

-sex with Kite is slow, sensual, and sweet. he holds you hand, gives you lots of kisses and praise, and will do anything to make you feel good, comfortable, and loved

-he does have a thing for overstimulating you… seeing you cry and whine as he rubs at your puffy clit turns him on to no end. you’re really cute 🥰

-he’s pretty quite during sex, only speaking when praising you, or telling you how good you’re making him feel. otherwise it’s quite grunts, and soft moans

-you give him a blowjob and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look so flustered. he’s swallowing thickly, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as the prettiest pink blush takes over his cheeks…

-“fuck, sweetheart, that feels really good…”

-he prefers calling you pet names like sweetheart, love, dear, and darling(used occasionally)

[probablyasocialecologist]

Legacy media, partisan media, media funded by the rich is—with notable exception—animated not by a desire to expose wrongdoing or produce useful information, but to manufacture talking points, nuggets of superficially-sounding truisms and thought memes about why politics is best left to the professionals. Most “foreign policy” reporters and pundits, especially, are motivated by the creation, repetition, and dissemination of these talking points, these thought memes, these Reasons Nothing Can Change and Nothing You Do Matters.  Don’t use the word genocide—it’s not technically accurate.  And even if it is accurate, Biden is working hard to get a ceasefire anyway. And even if he’s not actually working for a ceasefire but simply renamed a “temporary pause” a “ceasefire” and still supports the vague objective of “eliminating Hamas” no matter the carnage, he can’t actually end the war anyway even if he wants to. And even if he could end the war, it’s politically bad for him to do so. Wait, no, it’s politically unimportant.  And even if it’s not politically bad or unimportant, civilian deaths have reduced anyway, so what’s the point? Also, didn’t you hear the UN “lowered the count of women and children killed in Gaza”?  Wait, they didn’t actually do this? Okay, well it’s already out there so it doesn’t matter. It feels true, it feels like the number is too high and brown people are shifty and untrustworthy.  And even if civilian deaths haven’t gone down and the UN didn’t actually lower its count, Hamas can’t remain in power anyway. This is just a pat thing to say, right? Sounds anodyne enough?  Okay, so you want Hamas to remain in power? You’re pro-Hamas? There was a ceasefire on October 6. Terrorist, terrorist, terrorist. Free the hostages. Hostages.  Ceasefire on October 6. How can Israel have a ceasefire with terrorists? Wait, it’s happened before, over a dozen times?  Look, Biden is doing all he can to broker a ceasefire which, I know I just said was impossible, and also said he was powerless to do. Unless he does it then he’s not. Look, we can’t really impact Israel, Biden is mostly a spectator, but also it’s important he and Congress send Israel another $26 billion in weapons. What about Darfur? Haiti? Tigray? These are things, no? I just googled “war crimes going on rn” and this came up and despite never mentioning them before I think we should bring them up. But the US isn’t giving these genocidal regimes billions a year in weapons? Yes, but Hamas, Terror, Hostages, Darfur, Iran, Houthis are violating maritime law.  Shocked and horrified but what they see on their social media timelines on a daily basis, and the US’s direct role in it, there’s tremendous professional incentive in our media to come in and explain away, redirect, justify, and cast doubt on the obvious conclusion that this has to stop, that it simply cannot go on. Because it won’t stop, it’s bipartisan consensus—the powers that be decided it has to go on and there’s an election to win in November. There is thus a buyer’s market, and has been for the past seven months, for reporting and opinion pieces to explain why Nothing Can Change and Nothing You Do Matters. 

[ereardon]

The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]

“That can’t happen again.”  

“It will.” 

You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers. 

He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?” 

“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.” 

“A blind date, really?” 

Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?” 

“No plans.” 

“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.” 

“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.” 

“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.” 

“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?” 

“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled. 

“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.” 

“Well those are objectively the best.” 

“True.” 

You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Always.” 

“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.” 

“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.” 

“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?” 

“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?” 

“They’re comfortable!” 

“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did. 

“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.” 

“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.” 

“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.” 

“More than once is concerning.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.” 

“Stop stroking my ego.” 

“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?” 

“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!” 

You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.

He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings. 

And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out. 

[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]

[229zmi]

THE ONLY MAN EVER

PAIRING: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

CONTENT: reader and iwaizumi are locked in a storage closet

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

“Help. Someone, please help us. Ah, poor me, I’m stuck with— ack!”

You don’t know whose jacket it is for sure, but judging by its odour and the fact that a certain someone on the team keeps complaining about his missing jacket over the past couple of days, it must be Yahaba’s jacket that suddenly falls over your head, spurring tears in your eyes and an automatic urge to gag. Yanking it away from you, you shoot Iwaizumi a hurt look. “That was evil.”

“Are you even taking this seriously?” he asks in a nearly accusatory tone. It’s difficult to make out his face in the darkness of the storage closet, but you can assume he’s glaring at you. “It’s after school hours, hardly anyone walks down this hallway. We could be stuck here for hours before anyone notices we’re gone.”

When Coach Irihata asked for someone to move some equipment from the gym to the storage closet, Iwaizumi had volunteered first like the charitable person he was, and you were adamant on making it a two-person job — in which Iwaizumi would do all the lifting and your presence by itself would bless him with very much-needed moral support along the way.

However, the door had slid shut and locked when neither of you were paying attention, which brings you to now.

Stuck.

“Boo-hoo,” is all you feel like saying in response to his distress, your only source of entertainment now that you’re in this situation. “Why don’t you try breaking down the door or something, Mr. Hulk. Show off those big guns.”

For your own added amusement, you waggle your eyebrows at his indistinct silhouette and motion to your own biceps, pretending to flex them as if you’re a bodybuilder.

“I’m so glad I can’t see right now, whatever it is that you’re doing.” Iwaizumi sighs, running a hand down his face and along his jawline upon hearing your giggles. “Do you have your phone on you? I left mine in the clubroom, but we could call someone to get us.”

Sheepishly, you reply, “I left mine in the gym.”

There’s a silence that lasts for a whole minute as he processes your words.

“Great. Now we really are trapped.”

“Aw, it’s not so bad. You’re with me.”

“That’s exactly what makes this so horrible.” You hear some shuffling, then a hissed expletive as you feel a pair of shoes stumble over yours. The cracking noise that arises from him swivelling his head in your approximate direction, presumably toward the ground, is enough to pull another fit of giggles out of you as he chastises your shadow, “You’re actually laying down? This storage closet is already cramped as it is.”

“If we’re gonna be stuck here for hours like you say, I’m going to take a nap,” you explain your reasoning like it should be obvious.

You pat around the floor for a moment until your fingers graze something cold and metallic, wrapping around the object and shaking it. A clattering noise rings throughout the quiet ambience of the storage closet. This is a shelf, you conclude, imagining your voice to be like that of those narrators in wildlife documentaries. Covered in a thick layer of dust particles and cobwebs; a safe haven for all species of spiders.

“Shit, what’re you doing now?” Iwaizumi sounds as though he might break down from the stress. Inwardly, he prays to the universe for the door to open as soon as possible. “Stop that, I won’t be able to call 119 if something falls on your head and you get hurt.”

“Such a worrywart.”

“I’m being logical. Unlike someone else here.”

“Okay… worrywart.” As funny as you’ve been finding all of this, you decide to finally sit up straight, even going the extra mile to announce to him that you are doing so for his sake, though there’s no need to now that both of your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. One of your hands slaps against the floor, like you’re trying to beckon over a dog or a toddler, not that he’s either of those. “Come sit down next to me.”

“No thanks.”

“C’mon, pleeeeease. There’s some empty space over here. I already checked.”

“You just want to use me as a buffer from the spiders.”

“Well, duh.”

“Lucky me,” he grumbles.

“So are you sitting here or not?”

“What do you think, loser?”

He takes a couple tentative steps towards you, careful not to step on any part of you as he plops down on the ground beside you. The kind gesture is done with just the smallest amount of spite— with several elbow jabs at each other as he tells you to move over an inch. Nevertheless, after the two of you reach a stalemate (though in your opinion, you’re the one that emerged as the victor since he backed out first), you are more than content, even going as far as declaring him your knight in shining armour.

You can’t see the blush blooming on his cheeks after you say that, but you can certainly see him trying to hide it by hovering a hand over the lower half of his face.

“Don’t call me that,” he says.

“How about my guard-dog?”

Iwaizumi pokes your side, and you squirm away, laughing.

“Be serious.”

“Whatever. I’m taking a nap.“

After your laughter dies down, you nestle up to his side, sort of slanting your body so that more of your weight is on him rather than on the hard floor. The process is easier said and done, given how little room there is, but once you deem your position comfortable enough for sleeping, you rest your head against his shoulder, and it’s surprising how you do all this without any complaints from him. In fact, it isn’t until you shut your eyes that he finally speaks his truth.

“Hey,” you feel him press a warm hand against your forehead before moving it to pinch the bridge of your nose, effectively making your eyelids flutter open so you can make sure your hand doesn’t miss him when you swat at his irked face, “when the hell did I ever agree to this?”

“You didn’t need to. Isn’t it in the job description of a good friend?”

“To what? Be your pillow?” His voice rises with incredulity. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

“Fine then. Iwaizumi Hajime, the only man ever,” you announce, “do you take me to be your lawfully wedded whatever, to live together in marriage and blah blah blah—“

“What?”

“—to make sure the critters crawl all over you instead of me at any cost, for better or for worse, in strength and in weakness, in wakefulness and in—“

“Don’t say it like that!” His hand comes up flicks your forehead before immediately brushing over the area with his thumb to sooth the pain. There’s a slight stutter in that first word that does not go unnoticed by either of you, yet you don’t point it out. He hopes you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating in your proximity to him.

He glances down at you, your head still on his shoulder. The corners of your mouth lift to reveal a shit-eating grin, and he scowls.

“I hate you.”

“Nuh-uh.” You wag your finger at him as if you’re an evil villain in a kids’ cartoon. “You love me.”

The silence that hangs after your words instead of a snarky denial is so abrupt and unexpected, you wonder if an object from one of the shelves just hit his head and knocked him out or something. However, he’s still clearly conscious when you peer up at him to check, staring at nothing in particular with his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek: a telltale sign of him thinking.

“You alive?”

“Yeah. Just— go to sleep,” he says at last. “I’ll watch out for any bugs, rats, whatever, just please stop talking.”

“Finally!” You smile, turning your head to the side to press a chaste kiss against his upper arm as a small thanks. “Good luck, and may the door also hit you in the head when we get found.”

Frowning, Iwaizumi can’t see how that’ll work when you’re the one closer to the door. Nonetheless, he doesn’t mull over it for too long or bother complaining about it, letting you fall into a peaceful slumber and possibly the best nap you’ve ever taken.

Oikawa expects a lot of things when he opens the storage closet.

He expects a couple spiders to fall on top of him (for which, in that instance, he’s prepared himself by holding a textbook over his head). He expects a rat to run out and dance around his feet (for which he’s also prepared himself with vocal warm-ups a few minutes earlier, in case he needs to scream). He even expects a shelf to suddenly collapse, a broom to fall onto him, an inflatable stick figure with Ushijima’s face to pop out at him — anything but the cliché scene that lies in front of him right now, both answering the question that has been brewing inside of him ever since he realised his two friends were gone and also raising some new ones in its wake.

Slowly, he lowers his arms, his chin at a lower position than usual as he stares, flabbergasted at the sight of you hugging Iwaizumi’s shoulder like it’s a teddy bear and Iwaizumi, who to his credit is still fully awake, making violent gestures with his free hand for Oikawa to keep his mouth shut.

Oikawa gets it, despite there being no words exchanged. To wake you up means that bad things will come his way, most likely multiple volleyballs thrown at his head and a lengthy lecture. However, there’s no way he’ll pass up an opportunity to make fun of his best friend later, when the circumstances are much safer and you are awake to keep a leash on your guard-dog. (He snickers to himself at the controversial yet fitting nickname.)

He shoves his textbook under his arm, then starts fumbling through his pockets for something. Iwaizumi realises too late what Oikawa is about to do, mouthing the word don’t just as he hears a click from the brunet’s phone.

Oh fuck, he thinks. Not only does Oikawa have a picture of you nuzzling your face against Iwaizumi’s arm but now he probably has a picture of Iwaizumi looking stupid as hell with his mouth open mid-word.

As Iwaizumi shoots invisible daggers at him with his eyes, Oikawa makes the wise decision to cancel out the other not-so-wise one; he shuts the door and books it down the hallway.

[raineandsky]

#127

The lock on the door is an easy pick, and with one final touch the door clicks open and allows the villain inside.

Now, the villain is usually well above petty crime. He’s done his fair share of thieving. He’s pick-pocketed, he’s robbed, and yeah, sure, he’s broken into places here and there. But his life is actually fun now, thanks to a villainous promotion and some less of the dirty work, and so stealing ended up rather low on his list of fun weekend activities.

It’s not a weekend, though, and it sure as hell isn’t fun either. This is business, and goddamn if the villain isn’t a professional.

He glances at the screen of the phone in his hand, checking and rechecking the picture he took of the supervillain’s instructions. If only the supervillain wasn’t trained to be a doctor, his handwriting might be somewhat legible. He is though, unfortunately, and the villain is wishing he’d just typed up the words when he had the time before.

I’ve had a ‘tip’ on [Hero]’s address. The villain can just about make the words out. It’s like a word puzzle, which he is notoriously bad at already. I have reason to believe she’s got some important documents in there. Infiltrate, find her stash of secrets, and bring it in.

Easy enough. The fun part of stealing was usually finding the most expensive object, though, and the villain has an inkling that some paperwork won’t exactly make him a millionaire. He tucks the phone into his pocket, taking a moment to adjust his eyes to the darkness before shutting the door behind him and exploring.

He finds a living room, a bathroom, a kitchen, the fridge, ooh she has good taste. The villain plucks a punnet of grapes from the fridge and tosses one into his mouth. The supervillain has him on late nights—he doesn’t have time for dinner at the moment. The hero will have to survive without her grapes.

The office feels like stumbling across a mine of incredibly boring, inexpensive gold. The villain takes to rooting through the piles of papers mounting on the desk. All plain, civilian problems—bills, taxes, a newsletter from the mayor. Nothing exactly incriminating.

“What are you doing in my house?”

Who the hell is awake at three in the morning? The villain wasn’t that loud coming in. He turns dramatically, expecting to make his first introduction to the hero, but he isn’t faced with the hero. He isn’t faced with a hero at all.

An old lady is standing in the doorway, her glasses perched wonkily on her nose and a baseball bat in her hands. The bat is kind of menacing, at first, but then she has to awkwardly adjust her glasses and the illusion is gone.

The villain’s mind is short-circuiting. That’s not a goddamn hero. What the hell has the superhero gotten him into? What the hell is he meant to do with a bat-wielding civilian?

“You’re deaf as well as unlawful,” she adds drily.

“No, no.” The villain's cool demeanour is slipping too fast. “No, I can hear just fine, thank you.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?”

The bat taps pointedly against the woman’s palm. She’d probably injure herself trying to swing it at him. That thought alone is vaguely comforting. Only vaguely, though—she’s still wielding a baseball bat.

“What are you doing in my house?”

“I am here,” the villain starts slowly, “to rob you blind.”

He doesn’t know what else to say. He didn’t expect to run into anyone, much less a civilian, much much less a little old lady. He’s running on a bank of prewritten sentences he used in his thieving days, and for some reason the least helpful one is the one that wants to be said.

The woman’s face scrunches up in an emotion the villain can’t read. At first he thinks it might be distress, or perhaps fear, but then she raises the bat and he realises that, oh, no, that’s actually unbridled rage.

She brings it down in an arc and the villain just about dodges to the side. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact the bat absolutely annihilates her desk in his stead. Jesus Christ, is that thing made of steel?

He may be a villain, and villainy may require a certain amount of balls, but this is where he draws the line. The old lady swings again, crashing into the glass cabinet a hair’s width away from the villain’s face, and he decides that no, he’s not dealing with this shit tonight.

He scrambles for the window, throwing himself out onto the fire escape stairs with his new nemesis in tow. She makes one last swipe at him as he takes the stairs down two at a time.

“I’ll bash your head in next time!” she shrieks after him.

It’s only when the villain is safely on the other side of the building that he slows down. He pulls his phone out, sucking in a deep breath, and unlocks it to look at the superhero’s note again. Really scrutinises it. Then it clicks. He sees the problem.

That’s not a 6. It’s an 8. He was on the wrong goddamn floor.

He stares blankly at the screen for a moment. He’s too old to be putting up with this shit.

He shoves his phone back in his pocket, heaves a age-old sigh, and lets himself back into the building for round two.

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 5]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Four

➨ Chapter Five

Next: Coming Soon...

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

A/N: Hold onto your britches, this chapter is chock-full of our Big Boss of Hell! Also, my sincerest apologies for the slight cliffhanger last chapter. Fingers crossed it doesn’t happen again!

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER FIVE

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him.

The man took a step forward and you promptly launched a ladle at him, backpedaling behind the couch as he dodged it. You huffed when it only missed by a hair.

A plethora of household items were strewn about the hardwood floors of the foyer. Books, spray bottles, spoons (you broke into the crate containing the unpacked kitchenware in search of more ammo), etc. were scattered further and further away from their original home as you used them as a way of keeping him a safe distance from you.

“Please, put the skillet down,” he said, inching closer and closer to you, hands outstretched.

If he thought he could trick you into giving up your only form of defense, he was sorely mistaken.

“Stay back!” you hissed, grabbing a wrought iron skillet you had chucked at him earlier. He could try all he wanted to get at you, eat you, skin you, auction you off on the black market… You simply refused to let him have you without a fight.

“I’m not—” He was taking another step towards you but paused as you readied your weapon. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eyed him for a moment before taking a long, deep breath. Seeing that as a sign that you were trying to settle down, he carefully came closer.

Thunk!

A single swing of the skillet sent him toppling over.

He may have been your newfound friend’s father, but you were not going to roll over and show your belly in the face of potential danger. Being a parent did not make a person automatically worthy of your trust.

“Okay,” he said in a pained tone, slowly sitting up with a slight sway to him. “That’s fine...”

He crawled onto the couch, slouching over and cradling his head where you had made contact. Without lowering your weapon, you put yourself on the other side of the couch, standing at the arm and watching him very carefully.

The two of you remained silent as he rubbed at his growing welt.

It was awkward…

Why were you actually starting to feel bad about defending yourself? The guy had jump scared you and wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone when you were clearly panicked. He just kept following you, insistent on getting you to calm down but giving you no good reason to.

Honestly, what kind of logic was that? That’s like pelting beach balls at a child with a crippling fear of spherical objects and expecting them not to flinch just because you said it won’t hurt them.

If he wanted you to feel less threatened, he could have just planted his ass on the ground and waited for you to come to him like a stray cat.

“You weren’t supposed to arrive until this afternoon,” you stated.

“Right…um,” he said, looking off to the side, “You know, I just didn’t have much planned this morning, and it worked a bit better for me to come earlier—”

“Charlie told you she wouldn’t be here.” Your eyes narrowed. You knew he was making shit up, and you wanted him to know that you knew. If he wanted to beat around the bush, you would be delighted to become more proficient with the skillet.

“Right again!” The hand that cradled the side of his head moved to rub at his eyes as he sighed. After retracting his hand, he turned to face you, propping an elbow on the backrest of the couch. His eyes ran up and down your body, fully taking you in without your costume, which caused you to shift uncomfortably. Whether or not you were recognizable to him as the ‘demon’ he had already met was still to be determined. “You’re an odd duck, you know that?”

You shot him an incredulous look.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said, jerking his head in your direction. “Showing up all caked in makeup or paint or whatever it is you people wear nowadays. You and Charlie were being painfully suspicious!”

“So, you decided to sneak in when you knew she would be away? To snoop?” you asked, putting a hand on your hip. “You know that’s breaking and entering, right?”

“I am her father,” he scoffed.

“And that makes it okay? If I called to tell her you let yourself in, you think she’d be fine with it?”

“You’re going to snitch?!” his voice went a pitch higher, and he scooted to the edge of his seat.

You took a step back, tightening your grip on the skillet.

“Maybe.”

You had no way of ‘snitching’ on him to Charlie. Your phone was fried, and even then, you weren’t too sure that your provider would have coverage in Hell. And to top it off, you didn’t even have her number…but he didn’t need to know that.

He rolled his eyes, grumbling something to himself as he crossed his arms.

“Why didn’t she just tell me you were human?” he asked no one in particular, throwing his arms out. “That is what you are, correct? In all my years, I have never seen a sinner nor hellborn look as human as you do.”

“Yeah, well…Charlie thought you might freak out if you knew,” you said.

He looked taken aback by that explanation before beginning to sputter.

“Freak—freak out? Because you’re human? I married a human. Her mother was a human!” His hands were waving around as he gestured along with his words.

“We didn’t really want to take any chances…” you said slowly, head tilted away but eyes still locked onto him. “The last time a demon saw me, I was nearly torn to shreds…or eaten alive… I’m not sure exactly what they had planned for me, but it didn’t seem like it’d be pleasant.”

“No, I can’t imagine it would be,” he sighed as he straightened out his hair.

This guy didn’t give two shits, did he?

He snapped his fingers and, with a plume of sparkling smoke, his top hat appeared in his hands. It had previously been about ten feet away on the floor from when you had knocked him upside the head. 

“Now just how did you stumble into Hell without the minimum requirement of death?” he asked as he brushed invisible dirt from his hat before placing it back on with a few adjustments.

“That’s a great question,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’ve got a friend who thought it would be a good idea to try to summon a demon. Obviously, they screwed up, ‘cause it sent me here instead.”

He cackled, and you stood there with a blank expression, cheeks growing hot. Why you were feeling embarrassed over something you had no control over, you weren’t sure.

Well, come to think of it, you did have a bit of control over whether or not Devon had the essential, hard-to-acquire ingredient needed to make the whole thing happen in the first place. Maybe it was karmic justice for your pulling unethical shenanigans in the workplace.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, so they say,” he said, shooting you a shit-eating grin.

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away. 

“No, wait–don’t leave!”

You ignored him. Since he was there, you might as well give him his shit back. You would have preferred it to be under different circumstances, such as those where you still had your disguise as a buffer or Charlie returning them in your place (because you’d be back home safe and sound). 

But there was no better time than the present, so they say.

You put down the skillet and grabbed the stack of books by the front reception area where you left them after being thoroughly disappointed by their contents. It appeared that Charlie’s father followed you over, as you turned around to find him looking over your shoulder to see what you picked up.

Lord have mercy on your heart.

“Okay, you have to stop that!” you scolded, taking a quick step back.

“Stop what?” he asked with a look of pure innocence.

“Popping up behind me and shit! Somebody needs to put a bell on you or something. Every time you show up out of nowhere, it gives me a goddamn heart attack,” you said, shoving the stack of books into his arms. “Here.”

“What–”

“The books you lent me. We were hoping to find something that could help me get back home but they’re all kinda…not helpful for that,” you explained, toying with a strand of your hair.

“That’s why you and Charlie were there?” he said, looking down at the books with an unreadable expression.

“Well…yes.” You tilted your head. “She thought that’d be the best place to look.”

He sighed before tossing the books up just for all of them to vanish into thin air. You blinked in surprise.

He must have been a magician when he was alive.

“I don’t understand why she didn’t just ask me,” he stressed, throwing a hand up. “I mean, I’m her dad. You’d think it would be instinctual for her!”

“She probably wasn’t sure how you’d react,” you said, looking off to the side. This felt like it could easily spiral into a family therapy session, and even if you were qualified, you did not sign up for that.

“I just have to prove myself to her!” he said in a determined tone, throwing an arm over your shoulder to walk you back over to the couch, “I’ll get you home lickety-split!”

You stiffened at the unexpected contact but conceded to his will, nonetheless.

“Like, now? I could be home today?” you asked, eyes alight with hope.

“Ah…I don’t now about that. It’s been quite a while since I’ve gone to Earth so my skills may be a little rusty, but it won’t take me too long to brush up on them,” he explained as he plopped you both down on the couch. “I’ll have a portal open and ready for you to hop through in no time!”

“It–It’s that easy for you?” you asked, aghast. If Charlie knew he could do that all along, she should have just bit the bullet and asked him. Daddy issues be damned!

“Hah! I used to be able to do it with my eyes closed!” He leaned into you as he emphasized his words. “Usually, I’d charge a sacrifice or something of the sort, but you’re no sinner. You shouldn’t have to be subjected to this hellscape until you’ve earned it.”

“That’s–uh–very kind of you,” you said, smiling and nodding along whilst looking longingly at the front door of the hotel. It was generous of him to offer his services to your cause, but a social buffer would be appreciated considering your circumstances. You hoped Charlie and Vaggie returned soon.

The man continued to converse with you on the sofa for the next hour, and slowly, you felt your anxiety begin to fade. He turned out to be quite the chatterbox, and his commentary was mostly light-hearted and humorous.

 Occasionally, he would stand up to poke around the entryway, commenting on anything that wasn’t quite up to his standards. That left you to come to your hostess’ defense whenever you could. After all, the hotel wasn’t technically up and running yet seeing as you weren’t an actual guest and Angel had yet to move in.

After getting all the parental nosiness out of his system, he settled back down beside you and began asking you about your life on Earth. You had to tell him again what you did for work–he apparently wasn’t paying attention the first time–and what all went into it.

The conversation jumped from topic to topic but left little room for you to ask much about him. His interest in Earth and humanity’s accomplishments was overwhelming.

When Charlie and Vaggie finally returned, they were greeted by the sight of the two of you chatting away and sipping on tea, which had been manifested out of thin air. You were highly skeptical of it at first but had decided to drink so as not to spite the one person who could get you back to Earth. You were pleasantly surprised by its flavor and relieved that it didn’t appear to be poisoned or drugged.

“Hey, Dad…” Charlie drawled as she walked up to the couch. It was clear that she was surprised he had beaten them home. “I thought you were going to come, like, an hour from now.”

“I had some free time this morning, so I decided to swing by a little earlier,” he said after standing up to nudge his shoulder into her, “Can’t put a price tag on extra time with my darling daughter.”

“Right…” Charlie said with a strained smile, looking off to the side where her eyes landed on Vaggie. She perked up and pranced over to her side, grabbing her hand to introduce her.

Her dad was ecstatic over getting to meet her girlfriend. You thought he was overbearing when you met him, but that was dwarfed in comparison. He was even more touchy and fumbling over his words.

Vaggie did her best to be polite.

“Haha…so–uh, have you been given a tour of the hotel yet?” Charlie asked, glancing over at you.

“I poked around this area a bit–-didn’t want to intrude too much,” her father chuckled with his hands propped up on his apple staff.

“I thought it would be better to leave that to you,” you said as you stood up to join the group, teacup in hand, “I still struggle to find my way around.”

The night prior, Vaggie had caught you wandering aimlessly on the fourth floor after attempting to find your way to your room on your own. They offered to walk you there since they understood the halls could be a maze sometimes, but you had decided to be stubborn, insisting it was straightforward enough. Clearly, you had overestimated your skills.

That being said, it was a miracle you were able to make it to the foyer that morning.

Vaggie chuckled a bit as she recalled the memory.

Charlie smiled at you knowingly, as well, indicating that the story had been relayed to her. She looked back at her dad for only a moment before her eyes darted back to you, eyes widening as the smile dropped from her face.

“Oh–Oh my god!” she squawked as she rushed to your side. “You’re not–Why aren’t you…” she waved her hand in circles as she tried to find the word she was looking for before leaning in to whisper, “...you know.”

Your eyes narrowed as they rolled over to look at her father.

“I barely rolled myself out of bed when he came knocking,” you explained, “Believe me, I tried to avoid being seen, but…”

But you were hunted down like a mouse running from a fox. Even when you thought you were in the clear, it seemed like he knew exactly where you were and where you would go next.

That man was scary.

“But you can’t hide something like that forever~” he sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you against him. “However, I never imagined it would be this darling little human.”

He jostled you slightly as he spoke, and you could feel your face warming up from both his actions and his words. However, he had no right to be calling anybody else ‘little’ considering his stature.

“We really need to get her a new phone,” Charlie said to Vaggie, “If she could have called or texted us, we might’ve been able to intervene.”

Charlie’s father scoffed.

“What kind of sinner do you take me for? I’m not an animal, you know––” he began to argue but paused to turn his attention on you, retracting his arm. “You threatened to call her earlier, but you don’t even have a phone?”

Your lips twitched into a guilty smile, and you took a step closer to Charlie.

“You’re a filthy little liar!” He jabbed a finger in your direction.

 “You were breaking and entering!” you pitched back.

“I am her–”

“Okay!” Charlie tucked you behind her and put a hand up in front of her dad. “How about that tour then?”

She put one hand on your back and the other on her father’s as she began to lead the group of you through the hotel. You were secretly glad you were getting another chance to look around and get a grasp of the layout.

When you dared to glance over at her dad, he was already eying you bitterly, and the only thing you could think to do was shoot him a sheepish smile in return.

The childish part of you wanted to stick your tongue out and blow a raspberry, but you knew better. He made it clear he had some level of magical abilities, and to what extent, you weren’t sure. That last thing you wanted to do was learn the hard way. Besides, you needed to be on his good side so he’d help you get home.

As the tour progressed, he thankfully dropped his spiteful demeanor towards you in favor of soaking in as much of Charlie’s attention as he could get. You could tell that he was just happy to be near her.

It was sweet.

There were a few times where he exchanged some words with you lightheartedly. It reassured you that you hadn’t managed to say or do anything to genuinely piss him off. Rather, it seemed he was just the dramatic type.

You made it back to the foyer, and when Charlie was finished explaining her ideas for redeeming sinners, she waited eagerly for her father’s thoughts. She was disappointed that he had more opinions on the hotel’s appearance than its purpose, but she didn’t push the subject.

She would have a better chance pitching the idea to him once she had a few successful patrons to use as evidence that sinners could, in fact, be redeemed.

“I can certainly help you spruce the place up a bit,” he said as he waved his stick around the room, “After filling this place up with furniture and maybe adding a bit more light…I’m sure it will look wonderful, honey.”

He sent her a prideful grin, which she subtly rolled her eyes at.

“Thanks, dad… I really appreciate it,” she said as she pulled him into a hug. His face lit up before he shut his eyes and melted into her embrace.

When they parted, he made a gesture at you.

“I was also telling your friend earlier that I’d be more than happy to get her home. I just need some time to warm up. Don’t want to accidentally drop her off in the middle of Antarctica,” he said whilst nudging her and chuckling at his own joke.

“Oh! Well, I don’t really think we need your help with that…” she said, looking away.

You sent her a baffled look.

“We already found some people–today, actually–that can get her home,” she stated with a firm nod of her head. “So no need to worry about that! Sending over furniture is more than enough, which, again, I really appreciate!”

“Nonsense, this is what good fathers do! Besides, I highly doubt they could be more efficient than me,” he huffed before turning to grin at you. “I promise to have you home in no time.

♡ ♡ ♡

Tag List: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150 @froggybich @darling-angel222 @preciousbabypeter @itzabbeym @mrspepper1885

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Seeds of Fate

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and your group of friends enjoy the carnival before it shuts down for the rest of the year. Spencer and his friends decide to pass the time and enjoy some of the rides as a way to unwind from their stressful jobs. You and Spencer don’t always see eye to eye but maybe this is a chance for you two to grow closer… much closer.

Square Filled: carnival au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The carnival is only in town for another two days so the park is packed with people trying to get in their fun before the carnival moves on to the next town in the next state. You’ve been planning to go since you love amusement parks but never had any time to go. The girls from your gym class had planned on going the last weekend it’s open and invited you.

The girls are giggling when they enter the carnival after getting tickets. You’ve been giggling like schoolgirls ever since you arrived and it’s a bit annoying now. They’re the type the girls that love drama and you don’t need that right now.

“What are you two giggling about?”

“Have you heard from Spencer?”

You want to roll your eyes. Of course, they’d be gossiping about you and Spencer Reid. Ever since you told them about the man who works three floors above you, that’s all they can talk about. Spencer is a good guy but you think he’s arrogant. He’s a know-it-all and always tries to prove he’s the smartest guy in the room. It’s infuriating, and it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous. He knows he gets on your nerves and comes down to your floor as often as he can just so he can rub it in your face how great he is.

“What about him?” you sigh.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. We all know he’s so into you.”

“What?” You look at them like they have three heads. “No, he doesn’t. He’s annoying and he pisses me off.”

“Have you ever thought he only does that because then your attention is on him? You don’t see him visiting anyone else but you on that floor.”

“How do you know? You don’t even work there.”

“Penelope tells me,” your friend grins.

Penelope went to your gym class once and bonded with one of your friends. You didn’t know that she kept in touch with her.

“Whatever. There’s nothing between us. I don’t think I could handle him telling me how great he is every two seconds.”

Despite your objections, they all giggle knowing you’re into him as much as he is into you. They think the reason he gets on your nerves so much is because you hate how attracted you are to him. Yes, you’re attracted to smart guys but Spencer takes it to a whole new level. You try to be the smart one but Spencer always has something to say, always trying to disprove your theories, and often tells you that if his team had just listened to him, things might have been different.

The first thing your friend stops at is one of the food stands. They hadn’t eaten all day and it’s not a good idea to ride on an empty stomach. You won’t get a meal but something to snack on so that you don’t feel queasy on rides. You’re in line when you hear hollers come from the right of you. The entire BAU team besides Hotch and Rossi are there laughing at something Derek said. Spencer runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head which makes his hair look fluffier than normal.

You have to admit, he does look incredible. They’re all dressed in normal clothing which is such a stark contrast to the professional clothing they wear on the daily. Spencer is dressed in black jeans, black and white Converse, a dark purple button-up, a black jacket, and a bright purple scarf wrapped twice around his neck. It’s a bit chilly but you know once the sun goes down, it’ll be very cold. That’s why you decided to wear one of your thicker jackets.

Maybe it won’t be so bad to date Spencer. No! Do not let what’s between your legs decide if you should date him! You bet he’d know how to pleasure a woman the right way. He thinks he’s so smart…

“Y/N?” You look at Amber and notice her smirk. “It’s your turn to order unless you’d like to continue to stare at Spencer.”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“Go talk to him.”

“No. Leave me alone.”

Her laughter haunts you even after you walk away with food in hand. After having a snack, you and your friends head out to the most thrilling of rides. Most of them you go on but there are a few that you refuse to go on. Ones like the Drop Tower and most notably, the Zipper. There is no way you’re ever getting in that death trap especially when it doesn’t have any straps to hold you in place. You have to go in pairs to be safe and there are seven in your friend group. You’re more than happy to sit this one out.

As you’re waiting, you smile when you hear your friends scream in delight from being tossed around like ragdolls.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” You look to the right and see Spencer approaching. “I thought you didn’t like rides like these.”

He remembered? You only mentioned it once while passing by him.

“I like thrill rides just not this one. My friends are on there. I’m surprised you’re here. Isn’t this place too childish for someone like you?”

“Someone like me? Care to elaborate on that?”

“You know, a smarty-pants? A know-it-all? I figure you like to live it up in libraries.”

“I do have fun browsing the historical section.” You scoff and shake your head but you have a smile on your face. “I’m not all stiff and proper as you might think. I do like to go out and have fun.”

“What? You? Have fun? Do you even know what the word means?”

“Although its etymology is uncertain, it has been speculated that it may be derived from Middle English fonne meaning ‘fool’ and fonnen meaning ‘the one fooling the other’. Evidence shows that fun first appeared in English in the late 1600s. Fun was a French invention, along with lace and jousting; before the Norman Conquest in the 11th century, fun was unknown in the British Isles. Chaucer was the first to notably dabble in fun. While many English writers of the 14th century turned to high-flying concepts like religion, mythology, and romance—Latin concepts that had made their way to England in the saddlebags of the Norman French—Chaucer turned instead to a truly Anglo-French combination of fun and fart jokes.”

Spencer does a double take when he sees the look on your face, and a slight blush creeps up his neck.

“I mean, yeah, I do.” He clears his throat and looks at the Zipper. “So, you hate this ride?”

“Yeah.” You can’t help but smile at his rambling. He might be a pain in the ass but it’s cute to watch him ramble about things. “I don’t like being jerked around for fun.”

“If you go on with me, I’ll protect you.”

“My hero,” you say sarcastically.

The ride ends and lets your friends off who are laughing from the sensation.

“Look! It’s Spencer!” Amber grins and looks between you two. “What are you doing over here? Where are your friends?”

“They ditched me. I turn my back for one second and they disappear. I’m sure I’ll hear from them after they get tired of riding rides and want something to eat.”

“Why don’t you hang with us in the meantime? Y/N will need some company when we go on the Drop Tower next.”

“Sure, if she’ll have me,” he says and looks at you.

“Don’t be silly. Of course, she will.”

Yes, Spencer had some fun facts about the Drop Tower that you didn't mind hearing. His friends came and tried to get him but he wanted to stay with you for a little while longer and would meet up with them later. The next ride you’re going on is one you all love, the Ferris Wheel. Your friends pile into the first car, and Amber stops to talk to the attendant letting people on. She whispers something to him and points to you and Spencer before smirking. You’re about to get on when he puts his arm up to stop you.

“I’m sorry, this one is full. You’ll have to take the next one.”

“This one isn’t full. There are at least four more seats available.”

“You heard the man. You and Spencer can catch the next one,” Amber smirks.

You glare at her just as the doors close. I’m gonna kill her. The ride moves along to the next empty one, stopping right before you and Spencer. You two climb on and the attendant stops the next couple of people from going on. That little Minx. The ride begins its ascend to the top slowly, stopping to let passengers on and off. 

You’re not sure what to say to Spencer so you don’t say anything. Spencer looks out the window and seems fixated on a single spot as if he’s staring at something. You lean closer to the edge and see what he’s seeing. There is an older couple maybe in their seventies standing off to the side with a single Cotton Candy treat for both of them to share. The man rips a piece off and feeds his wife who takes it with a smile on her face.

“Look, that’ll be us in sixty years,” you joke with Spencer.

“I don’t mind taking care of you for the rest of my life if it means I get to be with you.”

You look at Spencer and realize just how close you two are. If you were to slide two inches to the right, you’d be right in his lap. He glances down at your lips before crashing his mouth to yours. Spencer needed to take the leap before he talked himself out of kissing you. You’re glad he did because kissing him feels like you’re on Cloud 9. The Ferris Wheel stops at the very top, allowing you to overlook the entire park.

However, you’re not doing much looking.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[hugsandchaos]

Okay, so @breannasfluff has brought Winged LU to my attention once again, and now you’re all doomed to listen to me talk about Danny being roped into that situation because I’m obsessed with both of them. There’s Scenario A, B, and C, and I’m talking about all of them. I’ll probably update this with reblogs or just edit it every time I come up with something new.

Scenario A

Scenario A is where Danny’s universe also has wings. I don’t have much to say about this one, but I hope you like what little headcanons you guys like about it.

First of all, I really like the idea of Danny’s wings being crow wings. Specifically the american crow or fisher crow. The reasons why are classic symbolism, and I also really like crows. That’s pretty much it. Not sure if I’d accept criticism on this. And yes, his feathers are white in ghost form.

Second, flying is much easier in ghost form because his core can help him fly without using his wings, and he can also do tight turns and the like much easier. He can still use his wings for a boost of speed if he was frantic or just for the comfort of the familiar motions, but it’s not completely necessarily.

Moving onto the Links, he’s pretty much the same as Danny without wings with a few exceptions. He doesn’t let the group touch him and gets nervous when they get too close because of past experiences at first, but once he comes to trust them, he’ll let them touch him and probably let them preen the feathers he can’t reach. He’ll rant on and on about space, and he loves answering their questions!

Like crows, I like to think that this Danny does have a secret liking for shiny objects that he hides out of embarrassment, but he’s also a little picky about them. Some shiny objects are okay, some won’t do, some are pretty good, but the best ones are the ones that remind him of space. This Danny especially likes blue sandstone since they look like stars.

Example ⬇️

If the Links were to give him anything that reminded him of space like that, or maybe even something directly related to or about space like a star map or something, he’d be super happy. And like crows, he randomly brings them shiny objects. Funny enough, he did this in a dungeon once and presented Hyrule with the key they were looking for and a red crystal.

Scenario B

Scenario B is if Danny only gets his wings after he switches to the Links’ timelines.

Simply put, he freaks out.

Why does he have these wings? What’s with these new instincts? How does he use these wings? Why are they still there in his ghost form?! Why do they feel so dirty and grimy?! How is he supposed to clean them?! What is going on?!

I’m thinking him freaking out actually caused the Links to approach him after they noticed him sitting on the ground hugging himself all alone. This can go three ways, two of them aren’t exactly good.

1.) Danny freaks out even more and runs away from them, which only gets him hurt. They catch him and do their best to help without pushing the obviously deeply troubled kid past his limits.

2.) In a fit of panic, frustration, and confusion, he acts on his first instinct and tackles the closest one, shouting “You did this to me” when some unconscious part of his mind told him since they have wings, they must be the cause. He gets knocked out because he was planning to actually hurt them, and they have a talk when he wakes up.

3.) Danny struggles to decide if he should fight or run, but they manage to calm him down and talk about it before anything bad can happen.

Whatever the case, the gang ends up teaching him how to fly and preen, and help him understand his new instincts. At first, he was very hesitant about it, which was understandable. As much as they doubted they could imagine a life without wings, this kid has clearly lived it and is completely new to this and needs help, and by the goddesses, they were going to give it to him.

I like to think that Danny either isn’t scared of the members who are raptors at all, or he has that small, nagging fear and tries his best to ignore it.

At first, he was embarrassed and nervous about being judged to indulge in the crow instincts like the chain does with their bird side thanks to years of bullying taking the form of an internal voice talking down to him, but he slowly starts to watch them trade and eventually join them! These guys are completely okay with it and even encourage him to try.

Scenario C

Scenario C involves Danny not having wings before or after he ends up with the Chain. He doesn’t have any at all, period.

This really worries the group. If Danny can’t fly, how is he going to keep up with them? How does he escape if there’s no other way but up?

Danny waits a bit to tell them about his ghost half, until they need to take off and he overhears them discussing how to bring Danny with them. It’s a little odd for them to see him flying the way he does, but he’s completely chill about it. Some might probably also ask him if he’s tired at random times because they have no clue how exhausting flying is for him, but he’s okay.

Now for the “smaller details” that I really like!

Danny doesn’t preen feathers, trade trinkets, call, or feel any “bird” instincts. Because of this, they might think of him as odd, but it also goes both ways. They have a mutual understanding that they’re different, and a lot of the things the other does is understandable because of what they have while the other doesn’t, but they’re still a bit surprised at first.

Danny can definitely help with preening, though. They try to do something similar with his hair as a way to try to return the affection, but he sometimes refuses and fixes his hair. Watching them trade is a silly little way to pass the time, and he might even offer something out of boredom. He declined any offered bugs, though, since humans don’t eat bugs.

Another thing is that he’s not scared of any raptor members while not risking scaring the non-raptors because he’s neither. Danny doesn’t feel any instinctive fear based off their bird half. I think this might bring a little bit of relief to any raptor members who were worried they might accidentally scare him.