#tw: bullying mention

[inkshine]

Here's to all the students with disabilities unhappy about going back to school.

Here's to all the students with disabilities unsure of how their disability might impact them this coming school year, and are wary.

Here's to all the student with disabilities who know the school environment will make their mental and/or physical issues worse.

Here's to all the students with disabilities bracing themselves for being bullied, ignored, or harassed when they're back at school.

Here's to all the students with disabilities already dreading feeling embarrassed at school because of their disability.

I know it sucks, and I wholeheartedly believe in you all <3

[cinnamonroll-soong]

I’ve not been that active on tumblr in the last year, but I’d like to give you guys a little update as to what I’ve been up to.

I graduated from college (well almost, the ceremony is july 5th), as a theatre maker, actor and teacher. A lot of the things that I make are inspired by trek in some capacity, since my special interests are my creative fuel. And for some reason people seem to enjoy my weird creative visions and are excited to work with/for me??? Like what???

I started this blog when I was 13. A scared, lonely kid who wanted an escape from being bullied every single day (I believe this blog was called thewizardtimeladyof221b back then?). I found that escape in the form of the fandoms here on tumblr, and especially star trek (and Data of course). Having this blog got me through high school. I basically grew up here!

I’m not alone anymore, and I get to do what I love for the rest of my life. While still being a huge fucking nerd.

And if you’ve been following me for a while: thank you for sticking around.

[sunflwrlitskies]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Hande Erçel 

full name:  Esmeray Yildiz

nickname(s) / goes by: Esme

pronouns & gender: She/Her & Cis Woman

sexuality: Pansexual

birth date: December 28th, 1995

birth place: Merrock, Maine

arrival to merrock:  1995

housing: The Coast & Pier

occupation: Florist

work place: Lavender Lane

family: NA

relationship status: Single

PERSONALITY

she’s very kindhearted and warm towards anyone she meets. she’s very self-conscious of herself, and often a bit too forgiving, but will not hesitate to boost someone else up. she can be a little shy but it doesn’t take her long to warm up to someone.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content warning: bullying, harry potter

Esmeray was born to two loving parents, both of whom adored their daughter with everything they had. She was the only child of Zehar and Ömer Yildiz. Shortly before her arrival into this world the Yildiz’s moved from Turkey to Merrock, Maine. See even though moving to Merrock had been part of the plan for years, getting pregnant with Esmeray wasn’t. Regardless, her parents were delighted when they found out.

Growing up Esmeray was a happy child at home. She was so infectious with her laughter and smile that her family quickly nicknamed her “Sol,“ and the name was one she fell in love with from a young age. She tried her hardest to live up to it every day.

(bullying tw) Despite the loving household Esmeray had things at school were different for her. For some reason, one Esme couldn’t seem to understand, the kids in her grade always looked at her funny. The girls never wanted to talk to her about anything, no-one made an effort to sit with her at lunch, during gym she would always get picked last, and her locker usually had some sort of goop or slime smeared on it as ‘the prank of the day.’

She found her escape in books and gardening. One day she picked up a copy of ‘Harry Potter’ and the brunette was hooked since. It wasn’t long before she was trying to read as many books as possible, from all different genres. If she wasn’t reading, then she was listening to audiobooks while she gardened.

With a lot of hard work, she ended up graduating top of her class, and her parents were proud. After graduation Esmeray took some time to travel around Europe for a bit. She did some backpacking and, in her adventures, met many lovely, and not so lovely, people along the way. She went to places like Paris, Peru, Japan, China, Egypt, and Prague. She spent some time in Turkey but only when her parents would go visit family there.

Now a days her parents have moved back to Turkey and Esmeray lives on the coast with Darrius Powell, Aisha Thevar & Emeline Newman, loving every minute of it. She has a bearded dragon named Reptar that she absolutely adores and works as a florist at Lavender Lane. 

[kingofthewebxxx]

For the HCs inbox call!

If Jim hadn't been as twisted as he is, but would have decided to use his smarts to either help people or at least pursue a career that could satisfy him without damaging others (like Sherlock), what do you think he would have picked? How different would he be in terms of personality, lifestyle, relations? And what would have been the motivation(s) that could have pushed him to make this sort of choice?

Of all his past experiences, is there a specific event that marks the birth of Moriarty as the criminal world has come to know him? Any specific circumstances that have led Jim to become the most feared criminal mastermind of history? And was it just something that happened, or was there one person (or more) who can be considered somehow responsible for helping to create Moriarty?

A very difficult question! What I will do is first explain my thought process so you can see how I came to the conclusion that I have. Throughout the show, we soon learn how Moriarty has a slight fascination with narrative particularly, writing his own. Not only has he built his reputation up to suit his own needs and desires. He had a particular way he wanted Sherlock to die and it soon became clear how much thought he put into it with so many details, including the links to fairytales as it got closer to the main event. If Moriarty thought so little and thought about connecting it all to fairytales merely to get at Sherlock then it wouldn't have been so grandiose as it was and besides, wasn't what happened with Eurus and Moriarty, the big story of getting Sherlock and the others to ‘save’ the girl on the plane one big narrative? Therefore, I have concluded he would perhaps be a writer, trying to help the world understand itself better through enveloping emotions and feelings in words to make people less frightened of themselves or perhaps a teacher (as we see in the original), the same reason for this would also apply to a support worker, wanting to help people change their narrative. He would likely be a lot more open and have a sense of empathy or at least be trying to ease the pain within himself by helping others instead of more destructive means. He would likely have gotten on with his Co-workers, not super close but working relationships nevertheless, he may have had one or two friends perhaps but it would still be a small number since he would most likely close off darker parts of himself and may come across as shy, he may not be bad but that does not mean there wouldn't be an internal struggle. I would imagine that he would likely be closer to his parents and brother, although I would say the closest of any potential relationship would be with his partner whom he would be capable of loving, a chance that he never got. Most likely he would have had a less lavish lifestyle but he would likely have been slightly more laid back and valued people a lot more over other things. His main driving force would be to help those who had also suffered pain and to show them that it's worth fighting for who you are and not giving up by leaning into the darkness.

Out of everything that happened to James growing up, many aspects contributed to how he developed, some much darker than others. Considering how much pain this character carries and how it manifests which I think is something some people may not associate with him, yes he inflicts pain but he has suffered so much. At this time I will not be going into the darkest of headcanons, if anyone truly wants more details please DM me, I'm still testing the waters with Tumblr. One such occurrence that led to him becoming ‘Moriarty’ was how he was treated differently by his family. Growing up it was clear he was different, being quicker at learning new things and getting higher marks, yet he would have more frequent angry outbursts and become frustrated much easier than others. His slightly older brother had many more friends than James had growing up and seemed to get into significantly fewer fights, his parents thought that he had gotten into fights, and the reason he had gotten into fights was that after reporting the bullying it had not stopped, he did whatever was necessary to make it stop. His parents always favoured their older son and struggled to understand their younger child, often favouring one before the other. Feeling misunderstood and also almost a second priority distanced him from his parents and with time he started to resent them, leaving home at 16. Leaving him feeling unable to talk to his family when he needed them the most.

Note:

I always encourage those who suffer bullying to report it, as someone who suffered it themselves a lot through life, you deserve to be happy.

[the-shipper-center]

"Oh, it's because proshippers are so more violent than antis!" The average anti when they see something they don't like (they could just block them instead):

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

Your current boyfriend used to be the jock that shoved emo-freak SAM MONROE into lockers. And now Sam’s got you moaning his name while his skinny boy cock rearranges your insides. Who needs all that muscle when you’ve got a sleep-deprived pill-popping grunge cunt destroyer filling up the empty space in your bed? Is he doing this to get back at your soon-to-be-ex? No. He’s always loved you. Always wanted you. Looked after you in envy while you were with that air-headed football player. He’s only got the confidence to fuck you now though. He’ll worry about his future broken nose later. Currently, all that matters is getting you to squirt all over the mattress so his old bully comes home to soaked sheets that smell of sweet betrayal.

[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

[sailor-brunette]

I am sick and tired of seeing shit takes from people about how characters like Sawako (Kimi ni Todoke) and Miyo (My Happy Marriage) are "unfeminist" because they're shy and soft-spoken. When Miyo is literally that way as a SURVIVAL TACTIC because SHE WAS FUCKING ABUSED And Sawako is showed to have social anxiety and the other kids are shown to kind of bully her. But both girls gain confidence and strength as both series progress. NOT ALL WOMEN HAVE TO BE STONE COLD BADASSES TO BE STRONG!!! Geez…

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

She smiled appreciatively. "Honestly, last time I remembered falling asleep in someplace unexpected was for a handful of times in a private room back in uni during finals." Well, and in general throughout the years. Aside from her family's home in Cairo and Doctor Ikram's office and when out in the field, the library back at AUC was one of her top places to be at. She didn't have any friends at the uni, leaving her primarily to study or to travel around Egypt. Asli hadn't minded the unexpected library naps. If anything, she felt entirely comfortable in those private rooms. The only times when she wished she hadn't was when she was discovered by one of her bullies there. Then Asli would spend quite some time avoiding the library for as long as she could. "Ah, got it! Well, welcome to the Midnight Club. And Providence Peak in general." Her eyes widened at his question. Her soon sitting up quickly while she shook her head. "No, that's not it at all! Trust me, their coffee is incredible. This was actually my favourite coffee shop in town for the longest time. I just... My ex works here. So that's why it's been a minute. The only reasons why I came back was because I usually use to do my best thinking here and I was certain that his schedule might've been the same." It felt awkward to admit this to the stranger. However, she didn't want him to have negative thoughts about the place. Aside from her strained relationship with Jesse, the Midnight Club was still an incredible place. "Seriously though, this place is great. I think you're going to really like it." ||📜@seongxhyunwoo

“No judgment here. I’m no stranger to falling asleep in unexpected places. If anything, I’m a sympathizer.” He replied with an easy smile, realizing that might make him sound like he went around passing out all the time. Back in college, he certainly had a bit of trouble falling asleep with an overactive mind that didn't seem to shut up. So sleepless nights turned into unplanned naps in student lounges and computer labs. In recent years, that restlessness returned with his thoughts eating away at him when he was alone with them for too long. Hence why he’d turned into a bit of a workaholic, welcoming escapism both physically and mentally to cope with the upheaval in his life. “No, no, first time. I just moved here, so as of now, I’m only a regular at my hotel.” Casting a glance around the seemingly popular establishment he dropped his voice a touch, not wanting the barista to overhear his next question. “But I am trying to find a place that's good. You haven’t been back in a while because the coffee isn’t up to par?” After all, he was all too reliant on caffeine to get him through the days and nights and unfortunately, he was a little too picky when it came to food and drink. @draslihanxfahri-bailey

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

esther going “nice try, NERD” when she catches edwin trying to get niko to pull the string out of his pocket is the funniest shit actually. i feel like she becomes a bully and is gonna steal edwin’s lunch money. she’s like “haha idiot! you thought you had me for a second didn’t you, you fucking dork? you thought you could take that wittle string out of your wittle pocket? gonna cry about it? baby gonna cry? what a GEEK!” iconic. esther finch, the woman that you are.

[fungus-no69]

hope lovecraft is rolling in his grave as I write this. I hope more people write about eldritch horrors being gay and shit. lovecraftian gay sex… (i do not write smut)

Context: it is a beautiful day in rapechestershire and you are a horrible monstrosity

Content: Body horror I guess, reader is a little petty (deserved), dol typical bullying, brief and non graphic gore in Kylar’s, mentioned animal death in Remy’s (you are Eating The Cows), some spoilers for Ivory Wraith’s lore

Remembering to oxidise your body is a burden, making your heart beat is a chore, remembering to move the rest of your vessel with your expressions is tiring. What do animals even need these rigid pieces of flesh for?

…though you quickly realised the value of muscles when your meat began to droop around your faux bones which is something you’re fairly certain does not happen to mortals.

Of course, you can’t maintain a full rest while above water in this fashion. You’ve come to learn that humans do not particularly enjoy a mass of greasy limbs, mottled flesh and gunky mucus spread on the floor. 'Sleeping' is nice though, as limited as your opportunities are. Humans are fickle creatures and that also applies to their sleeping habits.

Nonetheless. You need to practise your human-form-making skills. And what better way to learn about appearing more human than to attend the industry of learning itself?

Whitney:

Why this blonde mortal took an interest in you? You're not sure.

One day they were there and they never left

They’re always poking at your vessel. Rude…

Thanks to them and their lackeys you had to learn how to fake falling over when punched because apparently it’s strange to just stand there and take a hit without flinching.

They know somethings wrong with you but they can’t put their finger on it, this leads to even more bullying

Most of their harassment is about how you look and act apart from the straight up sexual assault.

They once saw you slip up on your transformation because it was a particularly irritating day and you briefly reintroduced your habit of scaring off others by posturing.

Not your finest moment, I say. They passed out because your mutilated structure was too much for their poor human mind to handle.

Thankfully you can help them forget the incident or write it off as some weird drug induced hallucination. (by distracting them with something inconvenient when they wake up. Like an ice cube in their mouth. Or a cut to their gums.)

You can’t let something like that happen again

Sydney:

You don't know why they're looking at you weirdly. You have the correct amount of teeth this time. You checked.

They help you out when people ask you stupid questions like 'are you a ventriloquist?' 'how can you bend that far?' and 'hey where'd your elbows go?'

It’s always awkward to dismiss yourself during those encounters, considering your ‘schoolmates’ don’t tend to let things go and are rather fixated on following their more malicious instincts towards you than letting you leave. So Sydney’s help is appreciated.

You leave little gifts for them in the library. A book you found in the lake and dried, the foot of a rabbit (humans find that lucky right?), little shiny objects you discover while walking around.

You’re far from weak or incapable but Sydney’s interventions make keeping up the act more bearable.

Over time they find that they become enamoured with you and that’s terrifying to them. One, because they’ve never felt like this before and two, Jordan seems to disapprove of you in some way? They don’t explain why but they warn Sydney about you. Which raises some issues which you don't completely understand for all of your infinite (old) wisdom.

As they become more corrupted, they get a bit more pushy with their ‘subtle’ questions about you- thankfully they never nag for too long.

You fear that Sydney, loyal and kind Sydney, will leave you when they find your true nature. That they will find you repulsive like many before them.

Thus, you will hide your true nature from them. No matter how often they ask or the fact that they know something is off- you can never let them confirm those suspicions.

Kylar:

You see the way the shadows loom over this mortal- they are more connected to the other worlds than they realise.

This draws you to them in a way, having someone who is more connected to your home than everyone around you. And them to you, though you suspect this may have happened regardless of your identity.

Kylar is another anomaly in a sea of others who look different but are fundamentally indiscernible. If you were to cut open a human and pry open their ribcage, you would find the same thing in each one. But not yours. And perhaps not Kylar’s.

They seem to feel a strange compulsion to protect you. You’ve seen this type of behaviour with Sydney and maybe Whitney to an extent, but never to the intensity that a knife was procured.

You understand that the utensil is sharp but you're a little bit confused to why the students run away when they see it? Stabbing someone requires strength and you're fairly certain Kylar is not very strong.

Surprisingly, they were the first one to ask about why you speak the way you do. When asked what they meant they told you that you speak in a very formal manner. Your expression must have made a change in some way because they quickly apologise profusely for offending you. It doesn't.

If you sulk about it a little then that's nobody's business other than your own.

Harper:

You get sent to the asylum for your silly behaviour (crimes and general strangeness that does not pass for mentally healthy) and Harper tries to gaslight you "there are no tentacles they aren't real" explain this.

You don’t have a firm grasp on human behaviour yet, especially when it comes to being polite but c'mon. Even you know this guy is a weirdo.

They will inevitably learn about your true nature regardless of how hard you conceal it.

Hypnotism doesn’t work on you, your blood is too dark and thin to resemble a human’s, sometimes you forget to make your heart beat etc.

They’re not as freaked out as you thought they’d be but they do want to run some tests on you

You say no thank you because even if it’s just for ‘personal research’ you don’t want your inhumanity on record (and Harper’s a creep)

They attempt to blackmail you in a sense but you stand strong on your opinion. Who would they tell and even then, who would believe them? And then there’s the fact that there is no human nor invention that can contain or incapacitate you.

You may meet them on your vacation to Remy’s farm, they’re initially confused to see you there but just as easily accept it. As much as they want to understand you- you’re not exactly human, so they don’t expect you to act by the rules of humans.

It would almost be nice if they didn’t finish their little spiel by dragging you to a stage. Stares make your epidermis feel like there’s little bugs underneath it and you feel the urge to peel it off to escape the unpleasant sensation. You don’t, because that would reveal you.

You end your holiday by trashing their office.

Remy:

You originally came across their farm because you were hungry. Remy, of course, noticed the dwindling population of their cows and went to investigate. Lo and behold- they found you.

They don’t know for sure if you’re involved in the missing cows but they suspect you’ve stolen them or something. Not that you ate them.

You allow yourself to be captured, you could annihilate these puny humans if you wanted to but something tells you this place will grant you rest and food.

The fact they stole your clothes was mildly irritating but you can easily get some when you return 'home'. What do humans call it? The five finger discount? You're not sure what having five fingers has to do with saving currency but you appreciate it regardless.

You don’t develop transformations. You lack the biology to do so, but seeing other cattle develop their features tips you off to the fact you’re supposed to be gaining ears and such so you try to replicate them…

The farmhand who opens your stable in the morning almost shits their pants

You don’t try again after that.

Remy is wondering why their cattle are STILL disappearing.

Ivory Wraith:

They are much similar to yourself, tethered to this mortal realm through an object. Though their emotions are a bit more… uncontrollable than yours.

But perhaps that came with being human. Formerly, you suppose. Not that you would know what it’s like to be human.

They know your existence is eternal, will last for much longer than their own given their own circumstances.

Inevitably, they belong to this world and you do not.

Nonetheless you understand each other to a point, with both of you being non human and somewhat incorporeal.

They vaguely recognise you from long ago, a painting or two within the temple depicting a monster. They had never really examined it, being too unsettled to do so.

They also remember that during the schism, they felt the presence of something much larger than themself. They suspect it may be you, though they’re not certain.

No matter, you're here now.

…

It is the first time you have felt desire for something other than rest in centuries.

You have never been one to want. You do not experience emotion as deeply as mortals (or former mortals) do, somehow simultaneously deeper but so shallowly. You do not feel affection, and even if you have, it has surely been so long since then that you have forgotten. And yet…

You think this strange feeling in your fleshy midsection is the closest to love you can get.

[lovefrombegonia]

Post S2 finale Jayce ends up in a different timeline than his Viktor, and he is now in an AU where only like...a year has passed since jayvik broke into Heimerdinger's room. Arcane spits him out in the common lab of Jayce and Viktor that Heimerdinger provided them to ready their hextech invention for proper presentation. But only the zaunite is there then. S2 Jayce goes through 1700 emotional breakdowns, scares the shit out of S1 Viktor, and instead of talking about how they should stop with hextech research, his first priority is to beg "his" partner to go the doctors RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

S2 Jayce decides he is gonna make sure this Viktor gets proper medical treatment first and then solve the rest of the (secondary) issues. He has always thought of if Viktor could have been saved with an early diagnosis and treatment for his lung blight. Yes, Jayce always carried that guilt inside him and wondered if he had just ignored the signs of his partner's health deteriorating. Also, Jayce may or may not be shit-scared that if he tells this Viktor about what the canon Viktor ended up doing, this baby version might just decide to just jump off the top floor of this academic building. Jayce is not trying to test that probability right now. He has a priority list.

[propertyofwhitney67]

If PC randomly asked the LIs to massage their boobs because of swelling or general pain, maybe from period or pregnancy hormones, how would they react?

Whitney pretends to be annoyed but agrees

Kylar is beet red as he immediately grabs your tits

Robin is flustered but will do it

P!Sydney is embarrassed but will do it if you tell him you're in pain

C!Sydney is easily agreeing

Alex is easily agreeing

Avery doesn't really want to deal with this shit

Eden is flustered but agrees

[the-broken-pen]

Hey can you do one about a villain with teleporting powers

The hero woke up gasping, scrambling upright in bed as the back of their neck tingled in warning. Their eyes darted around the room, blurry, before settling on the far wall.

The villain watched them, idle and unimpressed.

The hero’s lungs, traitorously, forgot how to breathe. They wheezed slightly, one hand clenching onto the blanket, the other sliding underneath the pillow for their knife, where–

The villain hummed, and the hero’s attention snapped back to them at the same time they managed to draw in a painful, terror-addled breath. The villain’s gaze was unnerving as they flipped a knife over their knuckles.

The hero’s knife.

“You,” the hero managed, but they couldn’t think of anything to say, and they were so tired and their pulse was jackrabbiting in their ears.

The villain seemed to know this.

“I warned you,” they said. They didn’t even sound mean about it. Just a gentle reminder–hey, don’t forget to check the mail, hey, it’s your mom’s birthday, hey, can you feed the dog?

‘If you keep interfering, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth and make you stop. There is nowhere I will not find you. Do you hear me? You cannot run from me, so don’t make me chase you.’

The hero swallowed.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it.”

The villain nodded like they had expected this. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, though, yeah?”

The hero knew the right answer. They knew that the proper response would be to slide off the bed onto their knees, to swear in every language they knew that they wouldn’t do it again. That the villain would be the only one allowed to splash blood onto the streets of their city, and the hero would choke on the pain of doing nothing and stay silent in it.

“You knew I wasn’t going to listen to you,” the hero said, and it was accusatory. The villain shifted slightly. “You had to have known I wouldn’t stop just because you threatened me.”

The villain shrugged one shoulder. 

“Of course I did. If you were the type of person who would have stopped, I would have killed you instead of giving you a warning.”

The hero’s grip tightened on the blanket. “That doesn’t make sense. If I was going to stop then why kill me–”

“I don’t believe in weakness,” the villain interrupted. Their gaze was searching and heavy on the hero’s face, knife still spinning over their knuckles. “Which is why you’re alive, because you have never been weak.”

The hero’s jaw tensed.

“You wanted this.”

The hint of a smile pulled at the villain’s mouth.

“Of course I did. You think I didn’t know you would try and run? You think I didn’t know exactly how you would react the moment I threatened anyone in that cursed city?”

“So you weren’t actually going to kill anyone?”

“Oh, no,” the villain corrected. “Of course I was going to. They don’t matter to me.”

The hero’s stomach turned. 

“Those are people–”

“They’re a drop in an ocean of humanity. You know better than to think I would care about something so trivial,” the villain said.

“They’re not trivial–”

The villain sighed, harsh in the darkness of the room.

“I bore of this. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

The hero jolted back.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The villain sighed again, as if they were dealing with an unruly child and getting a headache for their efforts. It sent the hero bristling like an angry cat.

“There’s nowhere you can go that I can’t find you. You know that, right? There is no end of the line for this. You can drive until you run out of gasoline, until your feet bleed, and you drain your accounts of money. And I will follow, and I will leave every person who helped you nothing more than a stain on the ground, until you decide the trail of bodies isn’t worth avoiding me. Is that really something you want?”

The hero set their jaw, rising to their feet. 

“You won’t find me,” they swore. And the villain–

The villain laughed.

“I know your face. Of course I can find you.”

The hero was missing something, and the lack of knowledge felt like a sword over their head. 

“I don’t–”

“There’s no way you would have known,” the villain said gently, like they knew how much it bothered the hero that they were missing something that was apparently vital. 

They probably did know.

The hero glared.

The villain looked on the verge of another laugh.

“Once I’ve seen a face, I can find a person anywhere in the world. No matter how far. That’s all I need. You could go to the other side of the planet, and I could teleport to you without a second thought.”

The hero gaped.

“Any face?”

The villain paused. “Yes.”

The hero’s throat went abruptly dry.

Any face–

“You could do so much good,” the hero said, and their voice broke slightly. “Do you know how many people you could save? Natural disasters and missing persons cases and–”

“You misunderstand me.”

“You could–”

“I don’t want to do good.”

The hero stopped.

“You don’t want to do good,” they said flatly.

“I am not a good person,” the villain said. “I don’t want to do good. I want power, and I want to do as I please, and I want you.”

The hero was going to be sick on the wooden flooring. They were barefoot, and weaponless, and that fear still ran up their spine.

“I am a person. You cannot have a person.”

“You are a glorious, powerful being,” the villain countered.

“That doesn’t make me less of a person.”

“No,” the villain agreed. “But it does make you something other than trivial. How could I do anything other than want to have that?”

The hero backed up a step.

“You can’t have me.”

The villain matched them, silent even as they stepped forward.

“You plan to run?”

They sounded amused.

The hero supposed that was better than anger.

“Stay over there,” the hero said shakily. The villain obliged, settling their hands into their pockets. Like this was a means to an end. They had flipped to the back of the book and read the ending, and were watching the hero catch up to the scenes they had already seen played out. The villain’s eyes burned into them.

And abruptly, skin going cold, the hero realized there truly wasn’t a way out of this for them.

The villain would never let them be. They could run, like the villain said, and the villain could kill every person who so much as looked their way. They could hide, and stumble through cities and down alleys and the villain would always be around the corner. 

They had little doubt that every other person in this shitty motel was already dead. 

The villain grinned like they could read every thought as it crossed the hero’s face.

“Where will you go,” the villain said. They stepped forward until they were close enough to touch. 

It wasn’t really the sort of question that wanted an answer.

“Everyone else in this building is dead, aren’t they?”

The villain cocked their head, as if to say, Come now, you know the answer to that.

The hero didn’t think they would ever be able to draw a full breath again.

“Where,” the villain said, soft like a secret. “Will you go, little hero?”

It felt like dying. It felt like reaching out to help someone a second too late. A second too slow to catch the building as it fell. The wrong side of a fire before it blew up.

“With you,” they whispered, and the villain smiled wider.

“What was that?”

“You heard me,” the hero snapped, and thrust their hand out. The villain took it without hesitation.

They tugged the hero into them, leaning to slot their mouth next to the hero’s ear. The hair on the back of the hero’s neck stood up.

“You could do so much bad,” the villain whispered, and the hero ground their teeth hard enough to hurt.

Anger flared bright enough to drain every ounce of fear from their body. Because this was the worst case scenario, wasn’t it? What could be lost.

“Every step you make, every blow you deal and fire you start, I’ll be there. And I'll stop you. Again, and again, and again. You want me?” The hero bared their teeth. “Then have me.”

The villain tugged them closer, and laughed.

“I look forward to it,” the villain replied, and then darkness swallowed the both of them whole.

A week later, a team of agents entered the motel to find it coated in blood and the smell of death.

A month later, everyone knew there was a fight of immovable power and unstoppable force shattering its way across the world. 

A year later, the victor panted through a bloody grin, bruised and crackling with vicious unleashed power, and laughed. Because truly, the ending had been on the horizon since the moment the two of them had first met.

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

Aslihan gasped playfully. "Oh, really? I am nothing but completely and utterly innocent." Now, she and Atlas both knew how untrue that genuinely was. Not that she'd admit aloud. "Good luck trying to convince them otherwise. Wha---Now, that's just cheating!" Asli's eyes widened as Atlas pulled out the Theo card. Of course, she knew how much the man before her loved and respected her parents, so she knew he wouldn't truly do or say anything. Theo, on the other hand? She wouldn't be surprised at the thought of him finding some way to mess with her older brother. "A low blow, if you will. Going to my brother... Ugh, fine. Call it even, though you absolutely cheated this time around." Now, how could she possibly be mad or even pretend to be when he looked that excited to have won this time? The curator could only shake her head as she laughed softly, a gentle smile forming on her lips. "I hope you're happy," she said. Though it was meant to be playful and aligned with this, she also meant in general. All she's ever wanted for the man was for him to be happy. While at first, it hadn't been exactly what she imagined or hoped, she pushed that all down and tried to focus on the fact that he was happy. That's what mattered in the end.

I don't see how you do it all. Her features softened at his words. "Old habits, mainly," she mused. "We all got our own methods to survive, don't we?" While she had told him about her days at uni back in Cairo, how she endured being bullied and alone, it hadn't been until she went to therapy that she found out that her workaholic qualities were more so a coping mechanism than anything else. Of course, Asli did genuinely love to keep busy and stay active. Yet at the core of it all, she was still that fourteen year old who was treated differently, who was treated horribly, and stayed as busy as she could, if not more, so that she could survive in the end. That has never changed. She shook her head at his words. "No, I'm staying. Just with summer coming up and with some plans, I'm going to have a break from teaching and minimalize workload for the museum and institute. Spend more time at home with Alex and Eli and the kitties." And the baby, yet she couldn't tell him. Not just yet.

Over the years, she tried to imagine telling him the truth. Of what happened with Alex and how, had her father found her a few minutes late or had her doctor's efforts been in vain, everything would be different. Atlas could've possibly raised Alex, yet Asli wouldn't have been around to see that. How could one thing result in a multitude of different 'what ifs'? How could there be such a variety that, deep down, it'll always pierce her heart in wonder? No matter how much time has passed?

What would've made the most difference, she wondered: telling Atlas about the baby sooner; asking him to come with her to Egypt or him asking her to come with him to Colorado; or them never meeting each other at all? The latter, of course, but it only raised more questions as well. Would they have still eventually met? Would they have still eventually had Alex? What else would change? All her life, she believed that history and the world would make her question things the most. She never expected that another human being, especially one that was still alive, would ever fill her up with all the questions she has and how she only had more and more questions that come to her over time. She never expected that the boy she met in the small book shop back in London to be that person, yet here they are. She just tried not to wonder if he also had those same questions about her.

Quietly, she waited. She stared at the floor, worn wood with scuff marks from moving furniture and foot traffic over the years. She stared at the ceiling, high-beamed and dark in colour. She stared at the collection of books, a rainbow of colours and a mixture of hardcover and paperback. Everywhere, she looked and was made aware of her surroundings. But not at Atlas. No, she couldn't look at him. She couldn't look as she waited for his response. Whatever it is. She knew that she would deserve his anger. All these years, she waited for the day where he finally admitted that he was still angry with her and she knew that she deserves it.

Instead, she was given the reaction that she feared the most. The brunette quickly looking back at him as her face fell.

"Atlas, n-no," she said. "No, don't... Don't. Don't you dare apologize. Don't you dare say you're sorry. Please, don't apologize." Her voice sounded desperate as she pleaded, dark brown eyes searching Atlas' dark hazel hues. Remembering how to breathe was becoming a chore instead of second nature yet blinking back her tears was easier. "You have nothing to apologize for. A-Alright? This isn't your burden to bear, but mine. This isn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. I didn't tell you all these years because I knew that you would try to take the blame, but I'm not going to allow you to. Okay? Please... Please don't apologize. I'm not telling you this because I expect an apology of any sort. You've done nothing wrong. Please... Please don't be sorry. Please, Yankee." ||📜@atlaswilliams

"You wouldn't dare, would you? If you tell them I haven't finished those books, then I'll have to tell them something about you. Or maybe," he paused, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he bit back a devilish grin, "maybe I'll skip them and go straight to Theo. I mean, I'm sure he'd love to learn some things about you." That was the kind of threat he knew would get a response from the other. They were the definition of sibling rivalry and Atlas loved playing somewhere in the middle. "I'll let you decide if it's worth the war, or if we can just call it even?" It wasn't often he had a hand to play, but the look of pure excitement was proof that he wasn't bluffing.

He'd taken a page out of her book and was working two jobs, though one wasn't all that much of a job as it was a duty. The rescue, family owned and operated, was his to care for even if he had another job that paid well. It meant waking up early to beat the clock and falling into bed late, only to wake up and repeat. "I don't see how you do it all. I'm doing this two gig thing right now and I'm barely able to keep my eyes open half of the time." Between jobs, he was a father to not one child, but two. Both were happy to have his attention and despite running on E, he gave them everything. "A break, huh? What's going on? You leaving the State or something?" There weren't too many reasons she'd step back, but maybe she was making more time for Alex over the summer?

The longer the silence lingered between them, the tighter the knots in his stomach were becoming. Had he done something wrong? Had something happened with her? His thoughts raced a mile per minute, his heart aching as it thrummed harshly against his ribcage. He hated waiting for anything, but when it felt like bad news was about to be dropped? He couldn't stand it.

Head dropped the moment she started to speak. He nodded, but he couldn't muster the courage to look her way. February 2021, he remembered that. "Sage got super sick too. I think it's a me thing," he exhaled beneath his breath. However, as the quiet tone of her voice rose once more, he knew that it wasn't a him thing at all. Panic hit him first, but guilt followed all too quickly behind, and then nothing and everything all at once.

Blood. Birth. Healthy baby. Death. Coma. All while he'd been fucking off across the ocean. A lump formed in his throat and anger ignited in his bones. She'd carried that pain and had quite literally given her life to ensure that Alex could live. What had he contributed along the way? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Fists clenched in his lap as he stared at the wooden floor beneath his feet. He'd walked away and he'd never looked back, had never considered the fact that something like that could happen.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't sure if he'd actually said the words aloud or if they were stuck on repeat in his mind. "I'm sorry," he tried once more, though his own voice sounded miles away, broken from the usual confidence he held. Knee bounced quickly and the tightly closed fists were accompanied by the harsh rubbing of his thumb into the side of his forefinger.

It wasn't his fault, but having left her alone to handle it on her own? That part was. He was the kind of man that he would have hated. The kind of man he did hate.