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cheshiresense · 9 months

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[Last Part]

Can't have a Yuzu POV without a Karin POV lol~

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Karin makes it back before curfew with fifteen minutes to spare. Their brother had extended hers and Yuzu's curfew to 10pm since they'd hit their double-digits, and she's always been mindful to never break it. Yuzu isn't usually one to stay out late, but Karin likes her freedom to wander around without supervision enough that she isn't going to risk a grounding just because she couldn't be bothered to check the time. Besides, she knows kids her age don't get half as much trust or leeway from their guardians, so Karin isn't going to disappoint Ichigo's expectations by not following the few rules he'd set for them.

Not to mention she has exactly zero faith in her own ability - or honestly anyone else's - to slip under her brother's radar anyway. Only an idiot would think they could, and Kurosaki Karin wasn't raised a fool. Sneaking in late isn't even worth considering.

So she's back by 9:45 sharp, and she unlocks the apartment door to reveal a scene in the sitting room that's not entirely unfamiliar ever since dinner last Tuesday.

"Shoes," is Ichigo's greeting, and Karin immediately rallies.

"I rinsed them!" She insists defensively. "Thoroughly!"

She had. Karasu River, specifically that spot where their mother had died so everyone's avoided it ever since like they might get cursed if they stray too close, is a great place to get rid of evidence.

"And now you're thoroughly tracking water through the door," Ichigo points out dryly, which, oh yeah, she is, whoops.

Karin makes a vaguely sheepish face before quickly toeing out of her sneakers and leaving them outside to dry instead. Just her luck that Yuzu dropped a vial of her newest poison yesterday and burned a hole straight through the entryway doormat, and they haven't had a chance to replace it yet.

She shuts the door, drops her duffel bag against one wall, and ambles over to her brother for a hug and a cup of tea from the fresh pot on the kotatsu. Or rather, Ichigo goes about pouring her one while she slumps into his side with a content, if tired, sigh.

Ichi-nii has never really been one for hugs, even when she and Yuzu had been smaller, and that's no different now. Occasionally, on a birthday or new year or when - very rarely - something had made them cry, he'd dole one out to each of them, stiff and a little awkward, but genuine in a way Karin knows he'd had to learn just for them, and that alone had made it precious. Besides, he's never refused their hugs when they take the initiative to go in for one, and Karin knows full well that anyone else would be thrown across the room or tossed out a window, Mizuiro included, so that's just as good even if Ichigo doesn't often return them.

She leans against him now, and he endures it stoically, handing her tea and also casting a surreptitious eye over her for any signs of injury. There are none of course— Karin's been learning how to protect herself ever since her brother had become the undisputed head of the household, even if Isshin still remains determinedly blind to anything related to his son to this day. And on top of that, Ichigo's long since ensured their safety from most lesser predators in this town, so it's not as if they have anything to worry about.

Of course, there are still morons who slip through Ichigo's iron-fisted oversight - or rather, are allowed to slip through - either because they're new to Karakura or they're lured in from a neighbouring town, all of them deemed harmless enough prey for Karin and Yuzu to play with. They make for wonderful test subjects for Yuzu when she's getting creative again, and very convenient outlets for Karin whenever soccer and karate aren't enough to siphon off her excess energy. Unlike Yuzu, Karin really isn't made to sit still or stay indoors all day.

She blinks when Ichigo jostles her out of her thoughts with a nudge and a succinct reminder, "Greet."

Karin's pretty sure there's some kind of What Manners And Social Norms To Teach Your Kids So They Can Fit Into Society self-help book squirrelled away in Ichi-nii's room somewhere. Possibly even a series. Of course, her brother certainly doesn’t follow his own lessons on conduct, but this is one of those things that Ichigo has always implicitly expressed his preference for her and Yuzu to ‘do as I say, not as I do'.

So Karin can only swallow a forbearing grumble along with her tea before nodding curtly across the table, "Good evening, Hirako-san, Urahara-san."

Ichigo's already turned back to some papers in front of him, because bright side— her brother's number of fucks to give begins and ends with the most perfunctory of civilities, so at least Karin doesn't have to waste time on small talk. Yuzu, her crazier half, is the only one of them who actually enjoys that stuff. Karin sometimes can't believe they're related.

"Brat," is Hirako's response, and his voice says amusement but his eyes say caution. Well, amused caution, but Hirako seems to find almost everything a little funny, and it's not even some weird bravado because his reiatsu manifestation is constantly a glittering field of yellow-gold-blue that takes the form of a sunny beach. Usually.

On the other hand— "Good evening, Kurosaki-san," Urahara returns, perfectly polite, with a perfectly pleasant if distracted smile, perfectly suited for someone who's genuinely glad to see an acquaintance's sister home safe. Except his reiatsu manifestation is a fucking ocean of blood, deep and dark and completely still on the surface no matter what he says or does. The only times Karin's seen even just a ripple in it is when Ichigo is talking. Her brother at least seems to have a knack for taking Urahara off-guard. Nobody else though, and the external mimicry of human reactions - no matter how expertly crafted - doesn't impress Karin one bit when she can see the disconnect between his insides and outsides.

So she snorts and goes back to ignoring them both. Since the dinner last week, these two have come back a couple more times, mostly meeting with Ichigo for something or other, probably a ghost-related problem, with Urahara also dropping off a stack of books and scrolls for Yuzu, and they seem like they'll be sticking around for a while. But until Ichigo tells her that they're going to be part of the family, like Mizuiro, Karin's not going to waste her time on getting to know them. Honestly, just by dint of being people, and worse, troublesome ones, means that they're more likely to get themselves offed at the business end of Ichigo's swords than anything else.

"Ichi-nii," She says instead. "I have another away game on Friday. Can you sign me out of class?"

Ichigo makes a noise in the affirmative. "Leave the form on the kitchen table before you go to bed. Is it in Naruki City again?"

"Yeah," Karin makes a face. "Back-to-back matches against Hiromasa. Dunno why they even bother when they're not serious about it anyway. And they're so annoying. We always kick their asses but they still look down on us cuz I'm a regular on the team. What, a girl can't play soccer now? But we literally run the score up into the double digits every time we play and all they say is that they were going easy on us cuz we've got girls on the team!"

She stops and takes a deep breath. She's actually complained about this before, multiple times, ever since she'd turned nine and been deemed old enough - and tall enough - to play in official matches. Or as official as elementary school club competitions can get anyway, and being able to play against other schools was awesome, but that didn't mean some of their opponents weren't dickheads. At least she'll finally enter middle school next year and probably won't ever bump into this particular group of idiots on the field again, but until then, she's no doubt going to complain some more.

And her brother always listens with the sort of patience he wouldn't extend to anyone else's whining, which Karin likes to take shameless advantage of, but on occasion, she also needs other ways to vent, and that was really what today had been all about after enduring last Friday's game.

Right on cue, Ichigo asks without looking up, "Haven't you gotten it out of your system yet?"

Karin huffs and takes another long drought of tea before speaking. "Kind of? But the guy didn't even put up a fight! He even pissed himself, Ichi-nii! Before I even did anything! It was gross!"

Ichigo finally lifts his head just to level a look at her. "You play with your food too much."

Karin stares indignantly back at him. "I do not!"

"How long have you had your eye on this latest one?"

Since like, three weeks ago, but that's not Karin's fault! "It's not my fault he took forever to take the bait. You'd think it would've been easier with the way he stalked my jogging route every single day just to see me in a tank top and shorts. Besides, I was saving him for after last Friday's match! You know, as a treat."

"And now it's already Tuesday," Ichigo mutters, but he also pats her on the head in a vaguely comforting if condescending manner, like he's consoling her for a botched job.

Karin splutters. "Ichi-nii!"

Ichigo smirks briefly. "You're still young. You'll get better. There's no rush."

Karin pouts into her tea. Eleven - literally twelve in less than half a month! - isn't that young. She's definitely not a kid anymore. Ichigo was already scaring the crap out of half the town before he'd even hit his pre-teens. He hadn't even killed anyone yet back then but people twice his size would pick fights with him that he'd always win, and then he had started killing once he'd turned thirteen, which had only cemented his reputation. Karin and Yuzu had had to beg forever to get their brother to teach them some of the tricks of his trade, because they hadn't wanted to wait years to follow in Ichigo's footsteps, and Ichigo had thankfully agreed that it made sense for them to learn how to protect themselves.

Still, no matter how many bodies she and Yuzu have put in the ground - not that many actually, they've got a long way to go to catch up to Ichigo - Karin isn't so oblivious that she doesn't know that a good portion of the respect they receive these days is entirely down to their brother's looming shadow behind them. But everyone needs a goal or two in life, and one day, she wants people to look at her and flinch because she's scary enough all on her own.

"Did you clean up properly tonight?" Ichigo adds like an afterthought.

Karin rolls her eyes. "I would've called you if there was a problem. You know I have like three different cleanup crews and Mizuiro-nii on speed-dial."

She can't wait until she's tall enough to bag and carry adult corpses around on her own. It's embarrassing to have to call someone every time she - okay, she admits it - makes a bit of a mess. It's not an issue when Ichigo is there, and she just has to help him, but when she's alone, it pays to have extra hands in the aftermath, even if it feels kind of like she still has to be babysat.

"Cleanup crews?" Hirako suddenly interjects from where he's just been watching them and listening like he's never heard a single conversation in his life and it's somehow super fascinating. What a weirdo. "Where'd ya get those from?"

Karin squints at him. Why does he want to know? Shinigami old as dirt still don't know how to do their own cleanup?

"They're just local yakuza," Ichigo actually takes the time to answer, which seems exceptionally tolerant of him. He must really like this guy for some reason. "Someone always has some free time to lend a hand, and they don't mind sharing their dump sites."

Hirako arches an eyebrow. "They don't?"

Ichigo smiles lazily at him. "Not anymore."

Hirako stares at him for a beat longer before bursting into raucous laughter, except the sunny beach from before is shifting, sliding, fucking shimmering, and then it's no longer a beach even if it's still a field of yellow-gold-blue. Instead, sand dunes rise where there'd only been wild grasses and rocky outcrops before, an endless desert as far as the eye can see, while the sea isn't a sea at all but something that could be an oasis or just a mirage, now gone hazy behind a wave of heat, and all of it so deceptive and deadly that you might wonder how you could've ever mistaken it for anything remotely harmless at all.

And it's even worse beside him, because Urahara is sitting there, blandly smiling away from behind his fan, and he doesn't look much of anything, but the ocean of blood he's literally submerged in stirs for a minute like there's something large and lethal swimming in its depths. Karin can't see what it is though because the blood is so thick that she can barely even make out Urahara's face, let alone anything else.

She rubs at her eyes. They're giving her a headache. This is why she prefers baseline humans over ghosts. Ghosts naturally have more reiryoku than average living beings, and Shinigami have even more than that - way more - so Karin in turn sees a whole lot more than just flashes of transparent images when she has to look at them. And it would be bad enough if it was just that, but these two lie so much. She doesn't know if it's a Shinigami thing or Ichigo just attracts complications, although now that she thinks about it, Mizuiro had given her headaches at first too. It'd just been easier with him because when he'd started coming over to hang out, he didn't have anywhere near as much reiryoku as these two guys, and now Karin's just used to him so it doesn't much matter anymore.

But these two. She doesn't even know what Hirako's deal is, because as far as she's aware, he hasn't really lied about anything so far. His insides match his outsides, so to speak. But his manifestation also seems to imply that everything he says is as much a truth as it is a lie, or that it could be a lie just as much as it could be a truth, depending on the situation. Which doesn't make any sense, at least not to her.

And don't even get her started on Urahara. That man oozes shady vibes so it's not exactly a shock that his manifestation reflects that. It's just... who the heck has an ocean of blood representing their soul? It's not the fact that it's blood that confuses her; it's that the blood is all there is. Even if you kill a person a day for a thousand years, it can't be all that you are, right? Even Ichigo doesn't have something like that. Although to be fair, his reiatsu manifestation can probably come across as pretty disturbing too. But Karin basically grew up with it so she can't really say for sure. It's certainly never frightened her. Not that Urahara frightens her either. It's just... weird.

Both of these old dudes are so weird. They're the first people she's come across whose manifestations are as complex as her brother's, but she doesn't really know what she can interpret from them because manifestations are different from emotions, and besides that, emotions are her sister's wheelhouse anyway. Yuzu is the one who can pick up what someone is feeling at any moment and extrapolate from there. Karin just gets a bunch of pointless shitty abstract art shoved at her eyeballs, and Shinigami are clearly the worst about it.

And just to make it really unfair, Yuzu says that emotions rarely get too loud for her. Karin doesn't know if it's because her sister had been born with natural talent when it comes to controlling her ability while Karin... hadn't, or if Karin's ability encompasses so much of one of the senses she depends on most in everyday life that it simply affects her more easily, but either way, if the manifestation is a powerful one, then the longer she focuses on it, the more it can overwhelm her.

It'd been almost unbearable at first when she was younger, all of eight years old and finally tapping into her portion of the family inheritance, except even a glimpse of another student with slightly above average reiryoku levels could wipe her out for hours. There'd been days where Ichigo had had to pull her out of school just so she wouldn't have to see anyone, living or dead, and she'd needed almost six months before she'd gotten a proper handle on it.

During last Tuesday's dinner, she actually couldn't even see what Hirako and Urahara's faces looked like until near the end of it. Their reiatsu is just that strong, which means their manifestations appear completely solid and three-dimensional, and that means that those manifestations are the only things Karin sees most of the time when she has to look at them.

She doesn't even get the benefit of practically being able to read minds like Yuzu can. Although Yuzu always says it's nothing like reading minds. Karin remains unconvinced. Emotions can reveal a lot, especially with context clues. Manifestations on the other hand almost never react to whatever is happening in real time. Unlike emotions, they're rarely a consequence of outside stimuli. Hirako's had changed earlier, from illusory beach to the real desert hidden underneath, but that's because his manifestation has always been like that, switching between the two when the mood - his mood - strikes. Even now, it's already settling back onto the beach scene. It may have been somewhat affected by what Ichigo had said - by cleanup crews??? - but it hadn't shown anything that hadn't already been there, part of Hirako's soul.

In contrast, Urahara's the real outlier. Karin doesn't even want to think about his manifestation, never mind look at it. It's not that his soul has become something new either - the whole person would have to be swapped out for that to happen - but she's never met anyone, ever, whose manifestation seems to hinge so absolutely upon one person before. She's not even sure if Urahara is aware of how... fixated he is. And she definitely doesn't know what it means. Ichigo doesn't even like the guy, and Urahara - inside or outside - doesn't seem particularly hung up on Ichigo. Except of course for the little matter of how his actual-facts immortal soul is doing the near-equivalent of placing itself in the palm of Ichigo's hand, which- what. Didn't they just meet like two seconds ago? If Karin actually believed in love at first sight, she'd say this might be what it would look like if it could manifest a physical form in the creepiest way possible, but she doesn't, so to her, Urahara's just insane.

Anyway, no one can blame her for not wanting anything to do with these crazies, especially when coupled with her ability. She wouldn't give it up if she could, because it's hers, and it makes her special like Yuzu, like Ichi-nii, makes her part of the family in a way no one else but the three of them can be, but at the same time, it's honestly a pretty useless skill. Manifestations are just... portraits of souls laid bare, which sounds all kinds of impressive and philosophical but is actually just a fancy way of describing a lifetime of squatting in an art museum with all its exits sealed.

It's terrible all around, made doubly so by their houseguests, and in Karin's opinion, the sooner Ichigo gets tired of them, the better.

The room has gone silent, and Karin only notices when the mostly empty tea mug is plucked from her hand. She's pinching the bridge of her nose with her other hand, eyes closed, but she opens them then to peer up at her brother.

"It's getting late," Ichigo says without much inflection in his voice, but he also pats her head again, and a flare of reiatsu floods her retinas like cold spring water on a hot day, washing away the pain. "Go to bed. Lights out by eleven."

Karin's more than happy to get out of there, away from Less Crazy 1 and More Crazy 2.

"Mm, I know," She gives her brother a quick hug before clambering to her feet. "'Night, Ichi-nii. I'll leave the form in the kitchen."

Ichigo grunts his acknowledgement, and Karin spares a moment to nod in the general direction of the Shinigami before wandering away, pausing only long enough to scoop up her bag before making her way up the hall and to the master bedroom. She and Yuzu still prefer sharing each other's space even though Yuzu is fastidiously possessive about her own belongings, so Ichigo had given them the biggest room when they'd moved in, while he and Mizuiro had split the single and study-turned-bedroom between them. The best perk of this is of course the fact that she and Yuzu get the en suite bathroom to themselves.

Her sister is still up, bopping to some music on her headphones while reading one of the scrolls Urahara had given her. She barely glances up when Karin comes in, although she wrinkles her nose plenty when it's clear Karin hasn't had time to do her laundry.

Karin rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. "I won't leave anything lying around, don't faint."

Yuzu glowers at her. "I don't faint!"

Karin snickers as she ducks into the bathroom. "Whatever you say, princess."

The thud of a pillow hitting the bathroom door is her reply. It's actually pretty hilarious when Karin thinks about it. Yuzu's manifestation is a sterile white room lined with perfectly preserved faceless corpses wall to wall, but give her a human body with its guts spilling out, and she immediately runs for the nearest toilet. She doesn't mind the scent of blood, but gods forbid any stains linger where they shouldn't.

Speaking of, Karin digs out the set of clothes she'd changed out of earlier, after her stalker had been dealt with. She hadn't even gotten them very dirty this time, and she'd made sure to scrub everything clean in the river anyway before coming home, but she'll still have to toss them into the washer again if she doesn't want Yuzu nagging her about it. In the meantime, she shoves it all into a vacuum seal bag and leaves it in the corner. She can haul them over to the laundry room next door in the morning with the rest of the past week's load.

Her knives are tucked inside the duffel as well. Those she'll take care of tonight. Ichi-nii went all the way to Nagasaki to commission them for her from a semi-retired blacksmith last year. They're elegant and gorgeous, and they cut like a dream, sheathed in black leather and embossed with a small stylized K on the flat of each blade, only noticeable when the metal runs red. It's the best gift Karin has ever received, and if they ever rust, or she ever loses them, she'll probably bawl her eyes out.

She hops into the shower next, sighing happily as she relaxes under the hot water. Despite the atrocious company Ichigo keeps these days, today's still been an overall good day. She'll be able to go back to her jogging in peace starting tomorrow, and the upcoming match on Friday doesn't seem quite as irritating now that she's had someone to stab a time or ten. Of course, after the match is another matter entirely. Maybe she can tag along to Yuzu's bake sale on Saturday. There's always a couple suckers at the outskirts of Karakura too stupid to live.

It's something to look forward to. For now though, she finishes her shower, brushes her teeth, and then gets to work cleaning her knives. She doesn't have all night.

"Was Onii-chan still talking to Hirako-san and Urahara-san?" Yuzu asks a little later as they get ready for bed because their brother always knows if they stay up too late.

"Yeah," Karin says around a yawn as she sets her alarm. "They might still be out there. Can't you sense them?"

Yuzu shakes her head, leaning over to switch off the lamp on her nightstand. "They're... quiet, I guess. Quieter. I have to be in the same room as them to pick up on their emotions."

Karin hums as she rolls herself into her blankets. "What do you think about them?"

"I don't, really," Yuzu admits easily, so they're agreed on that at least. "Although if Onii-chan gets rid of them, I hope he can wait until after Urahara-san has finished teaching me."

Karin snorts. Typical.

They're silent for a moment until Yuzu speaks up again. "I think they're trouble. I mean, Onii-chan did mention it during dinner last week. But I think it's a different kind of trouble than the usual stuff. Not like yakuza or random creeps or even the monsters. Worse, I think they're going to bring trouble."

Karin frowns into the dark. Well, it's not anything she hasn't thought of herself. It's another reason why she dislikes them. If they've got problems, why do they have to dump them at Ichigo's doorstep? What have they ever done for Ichi-nii?

Still, "Ichi-nii will be able to handle it," Karin says with certainty. She's never known her brother to fail at anything. There has never been a problem Ichigo couldn't solve. He'd even cowed their father without ever laying a single hand on him, and that was back when Isshin had still been stronger than Ichigo.

"Well, obviously," Yuzu says, equally confident. "Maybe Onii-chan will even have some fun with it. I know the monsters don't give him any kind of challenge anymore. And he likes Hirako-san and Urahara-san well enough."

"He likes Hirako," Karin corrects, shooting a flummoxed look at the bed across the room. "Urahara, he could take or leave. I'm surprised Ichi-nii lets him come here at all."

"Yes," Yuzu says with an audible smile. "Onii-chan lets him come here."

Karin blinks. ...Huh.

"So, what, is it like... a crush?" Karin grimaces. Ew. "They're old and weird!"

Yuzu giggles. "I don't think I'd go that far. Yet. Besides, they're also powerful and interesting and not afraid of him, and you know what Onii-chan's like."

"Yeah, but I also thought Ichi-nii doesn't get crushes," Karin grouches. "I can't believe it's both ways."

"Both ways?" Yuzu echoes, and Karin can almost hear her eyes go wide. "Urahara-san too?"

Karin squints up at the ceiling. "What, you didn't pick that up from him? I mean I don't think it's actually a crush. Like you said. But there's something there."

"Urahara-san is a bit strange about Onii-chan," Yuzu agrees thoughtfully. "But I'm not exactly sure what it is. His emotions are hard to read sometimes. Hirako-san is easier. And nicer."

Karin makes a disgruntled sound. 'Nice' isn't how she'd put it, considering Hirako's reiatsu manifestation.

"Hirako-san isn't that bad," Yuzu says, amused. "And they're both kind of like Onii-chan, so that might be good. It's good to have friends."

Karin shrugs and grabs an extra pillow to hug. "Whether they're like him or not, if they do something dumb, Ichi-nii will handle it all the same."

Yuzu laughs, bright and cheerful and just a little anticipatory, even if she does seem to have a better opinion of them than Karin does.

The conversation between them fades away. Karin shuts her eyes and lets her thoughts drift. She has morning practice tomorrow and can't be late, so old weird men calling on her brother are frankly the least of her priorities.

#bleach #myscrap #stunted empathy verse #kurosaki karin #kurosaki ichigo #hirako shinji #urahara kisuke #kurosaki yuzu #karin's way less impressed with the two old dudes who followed her brother home #not that yuzu was all that impressed either beyond what kisuke could do for her lmao #anyway fleshing out karin and smacked her with a much more unique ability than yuzu's lol #not that yuzu's is particularly common in the bleach world but you see the empathy trope in general more often #they're kind of opposites in that #yuzu's relatively more normal in the spiritual powers department #not so normal with her poison obsession in everyday life #karin kind of doesn't want to have much to do with the spiritual side #and is more normal with her daily life #kind of #okay murder's not normal but she goes about it more straightforwardly at least #the main point is i hope they actually feel like people instead of cardboard cutouts lmao #sorry kubo but they were so flat in canon

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party-dude · 4 months

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DREAM TEAM

No beta reader u know the drill.

You gotta be fucking kidding...

Dude squints at the sight in front of him. His hands slide under his sunglasses and scrub at his eyes, making sure he's not just seeing things. He opens them and... nope! Still fucking there.

"Ungh! D-Dude!"

It's You! You're laying there on the plush pink bed that just keeps fucking appearing. Bent over with your ass in the air and your head pressed deep into the duvet. Your face twisted into pleasure; eyes rolling and drool leaving a small stain on the bedding below. Dude's eyes rake over the sight, taking it in and letting his body flutter in reaction, but he's not exactly focused much on you at the moment. No.

He's mostly looking at Him.

The bastard who keeps showing up and taunting him at every turn in this stupid dream: The Other Dude.

He's there, behind you, taking you for himself. Fingers digging deep into your hips as he pounds into you. The weathered hospital gown bunched up over his hips, covering anything visual happening underneath but Dude doesn't need to see to know what's happening. The Bastard's not even watching you enjoy the treatment he gives you. He's staring at Dude.

"Oh. Hey there, Dude." Other Dude greets him, sounding unaffected by what he's doing to you and voice laced full with humor. The usual dumb grin plastered on his (handsome) face.

Dude wants to roll his eyes at his voice but that means tearing his eyes away from the scene in front of him. You let out a whine and he feels something stir again.

"About time you showed. I was getting worried you'd miss this!" Other Dude grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging you up to give Dude a better look at your face. Chuckling when you let out a yelp that turns into a moan.

Dude's eyes widen and his mouth drops open; his sunglasses sliding down his nose. He quickly has a thought that this might be venturing onto some fucked up kick he doesn't want to think about right now. The thought of someone else taking you, even if that someone else happens to be a subconscious dick bag version of himself, shouldn't be turning him on this much. He quickly dismisses the thought and grimaces.

"So, what's all this about? Trying extra hard now to be me..?" Dude mentally groans at his lame attempt to rib Other Dude. He's a bit to preoccupied staring at you now, watching you whine and thrash and arch and beg and-

Dude swallows, trying to wet his dry mouth. He's definitely hard now, the gown rising a bit in the area.

Other Dude laughs, breath huffing out as he keeps thrusting. "Not at all. Just showing them who The. Real. Dude. Is." He punctuates each word with a thrust, hard and quick. Making your eyes roll; you face plant back into the bedding when he slips his hand out from your hair. Your screams muffled by the bedding and mattress.

Wet sounds of skin and fluid slapping fills the air and Dude's head goes light. It remind him of every filthy porno he's ever seen all at one and his fingers twitch, wanting to touch you for himself. Other Dude chuckles smugly again. "Quite a looker you've got, Dear Dude. Shame they like me more."

Dude frowns now. Getting angry and annoyed at the implication. You turn your head, your eyes meeting his and you whine. A hand slides across the duvet and you reach for him. "Dude! P-Please..?" Butterflies swarm in his stomach and he blushes. Even when you're getting fucked in front of him, you still want him. He quickly, stomps them out. Nope! No Lovey Dovey shit right now. He needs to prove something to a certain Bastard.

"Heh. Right.. That's why even with your cock in them they're still begging for the Real Deal. Ain't that right, sweetheart?" He glances down at you and your pretty, flushed face. You nod, biting a lip to hold back a moan.

Behind you, a frustrated growl comes and a gloved hand connects with your ass, hard. You let out a yelp and Dude's eyes widen, taking a few steps towards you.

"Wanna prove something, Dude?" Other asks, fingers gripping your flesh so hard they leave small crescent marks indented. "Then try it. I'll still have them screaming for me while they choke on your cock. I promise."

Dude, never one to back down from a challenge, (especially one this hot and depraved) sniggers and nods. "You're on, Asshole."

He steps forward. Taking his position in front of you. Other leans back, slowing his movements, so you can rise on shaky arms to greet Dude. You look destroyed, face running with tears and drool and sweat. Dude smirks, sliding a hand to your cheek.

"Hey there, Beautiful. Ready to put on a show for this prick? Show 'em who you really belong to?"

You swallow; lips parting and breath panting. Excited to finally have him, you nod quickly. He smirks, reaching behind the gown; undoing the ties. Letting it fall into a fabric puddle at his bunny slippered feet. Other Dude laughs loudly, causing Dude to raise an eyebrow.

"That's it? Yeesh! No wonder they've been cock drunk! That's all they have to work with!" Other falls forward, giggling and using you for support. You yelp at the weight and your arms nearly give. "Go on! Tell him! Tell him how small it is!" Other slaps at you, egging you on to degrade and humiliate. You blink at the order and you hesitate. Turning your head to look at him in question. You don't get far as he snatches out, grabbing your hair like reigns and pulling you back, forcing you to stare straight ahead at Dude. "Tell him."

You lock with Dude's eyes and swallow again. Voice coming out meek and shaky. "I-It's small!"

Dude hates how his cock twitches at the words, precum leaking from out his tip. Other notices and laughs again, the humiliation building under Dude's skin further. Other Dude drops your head, letting you fall forward again.

"Get on with it, We all know I'm winning anyway."

Dude rolls his eyes, turning his attention back towards you. You reach up, grabbing his cock and taking it into your mouth. You barely even get adjusted before Other Dude starts fucking you again, thrusting up into you rough and hard. You gasp and moan around Dude's cock, getting pushed onto it deeper. You gag and Dude groans.

He takes your hair into his hands like a handle and holds you steady. Fucking your face. Other Dude bucks and grinds and finally, finally, finds the spot to make you roll your eyes and whine. Both Dudes whine at the noise at the same time and their movements sputter.

Dude looks down at you, his sunglasses sliding down his sweat slicked face now. He takes in your appearance again and smirks, realization crossing him. Looking up at the Other, he speaks. "They're close."

Other nods in acknowledgement and his face breaks out into a dark grin. Giggles spilling from his throat as he keeps up the pace. Watching your ass jiggle and smack against his hips.

Dude pulls his cock from your throat, stroking himself. "Let me finish on that pretty face, yeah?" His voice, low and gruff, makes you whine.

"Fuck! Dude! I-I'm close!" Your eyes screw shut and you finish hard against Others cock. His eyebrows rise, groaning something depraved at the release and he pulls out once you finish. Stroking himself off. Each Dude lets out a groan at your despertate noises and they finish in tandem. Dude painting your face; Other releasing along your lower back.

Other Dude groans and falls backwards onto the bed. His gown falling back down to cover him fully again. His arm comes up to cover his face. Your arms finally give and you slump forward into the plush comforter, face sideways to prevent Dude's spent from squishing everywhere. Dude somehow manages to stay upright, head tilted upwards with his eyes screwed shut and face flushed. You're all three huffing for air and coming down.

Dude is the first to break the silence. "I win."

Other Dude's head snaps upwards. Hand slamming down onto the space next to him, brows twisted with frustration and anger. "No. Way. You didn't feel how they were clenching down around me!"

Dude chuckles and shrugs. "And you couldn't see how they were looking at me. Practically worshipping me."

Other snarls and suddenly rises to his unsteady legs and lunges at Dude, pulling him down into the ground. They roll around and fight, throwing punches at each other, like siblings fighting over a favorite toy. Arguing all the while about who you favored more.

You sigh at the sight and wipe your face with one of the sheets, cleaning yourself up. Grumbling to yourself.

"This dream fucking sucks."

#postal dude x reader #postal #postal dude #postal: brain damaged #lemon #lord yall i was so embarrassed when i woke up and saw that i published that draft #😔😔#this could b better but its okay #dude fics #ALSO I STILL HAVENT FINISH BD LMAO I JUST GOT TOO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS

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