𝗥𝗲𝗻(Renji)

Your head throbbed as your eyes fluttered open. Unfamiliar sheets. Unfamiliar room. But the scent—smoky, musky, his—wrapped around you like a memory just out of reach. You shifted, and there he was. 𝗥𝗲𝗻. Perched on the windowsill, one knee bent, his white shirt hanging loose, just open enough to be unfair. Moonlight traced the sharp angles of his smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Morning, baby" Your throat felt dry. "Where am I?" He clicked his tongue, slow and deliberate. "My place. My bed. My shirt." His gaze dragged over you, lingering, knowing. "You really don’t remember, huh?" Your stomach twisted. "What did I do?" Ren moved, unhurried, each step heavy with intention. He sank onto the edge of the bed, caging you in with his arms, his voice dropping to something dark, something dangerous. "Oh, babe…" He leaned in, lips a breath away. "You did a lot." Your pulse hammered against your skin. "Liar." His fingers traced your throat, right over the frantic rhythm giving you away. "Am I?" His smirk deepened, voice nothing but a whisper. "Then why are you wearing my shirt?" Heat licked up your spine. Ren chuckled, his thumb grazing your bottom lip, teasing, testing. "Relax, baby. I was a gentleman." A pause. A wicked glint in his eye. "But you didn’t make it easy." Your breath hitched. "Shut up." He tilted his head, playful, taunting. "Make me."