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lacydollette · 14 days ago

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doll!reader was never a fan of bullying, so when toppers gf ruhtie decides to fight the pogues during their stay at the beach, she’s done taking her shit

cw — rafe x fem!reader, rafe being whipped for doll, suggestive content, explicit language, kooks vs. pogues, ruthie being a bitch, dead baby turtles, arguing, reader fights ruthie

The sun was blazing, casting a golden glow across kildare as you and Rafe drove down to the beach. You were sat in the passenger seat of his truck, legs crossed and placed on the dashboard, your floral sundress riding up your thighs as you hummed along to a song playing on the radio, cherry-red nails tapping against your phone as you scrolled mindlessly.

Rafe glanced over at you, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he took in your effortless beauty and the way your dress hugged your figure in all the right places, your plush thighs on full display for him. Of course you noticed and smirked, flipping your sunglasses down to look at him.

“Careful, rafey,” you teased, voice filled with your usual sweetness.

He returned the smirk, a quiet intensity in his voice, “Not my fault you’re distracting.”

“Eyes. On. The. Road.” You pointed dramatically forward, shaking your head. This man was unbelievable.

His chuckle was low and warm, but the tension in his hands remained as he tore his gaze back to the road.

Soon you arrived at the beach, where your friends were already setting everything up. Topper and Kelce were unloading surfboards like they were training for the Olympics, and Ruthie, who was perched on Topper’s Jeep like she owned the damn thing, barked random instructions about where the cooler should go, while your best friend Sofia, was sprawled on a towel nearby, sipping Pepsi and pretending to be entertained by the mess.

“You’re late,” Sofia called out with a grin as you stepped out of the truck.

“Blame this guy. Couldn’t keep his hands to himself,” you replied, grabbing the beach bag from the backseat and motioning to rafe who was unloading the trunk. “Ew y/n. Stop giving me nightmares.”Sofia cried out, weird images of you and rafe playing in her head, which made you giggle as you walked back to her layed out towel, placing yours next to it and falling onto the pink cloth.

Soon enough you turned your attention back to your boyfriend who was still rummaging through his car.

“Rafe,” you called over, standing up and spinning to face him. “I need suncreen!”

He glanced up, mid-struggle with a folding chair. “Yeah, just a sec—”

“Pleeeease.” you whined, pouting at him which made rafe sigh in defeat, of course he’d drop everything just to keep you happy, that’s just how much you got him wrapped around your finger.

As Rafe walked over you reached back and untied your dress in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the sand and revealing your new bright pink bikini that practically glowed against your tan skin in a way you knew would leave him speechless.

Rafe froze for a moment, his breath hitching as he took you in. Your body was glowing, and Rafe felt not only his chest tighten, the bulge in his pants growing. “Goddamn, doll,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop himself, still stuck in frame.

You looked over your shoulder, smirking. “You gonna help me or just stare all day? I’m sure Kelce would gladly help me out instead.”

That got him moving. He grabbed the sunscreen, squeezing some into his hands before running them over your back, his touch lingering just a little too long, making your skin tingle. his hands were warm and careful, savoring every second as an excuse to touch you and just then his hand slipped past your waist, stopping right on your round ass.

"Done?" you teased, glancing over your shoulder with a playful smile.

"Barely," he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes dropped, tracing your curves for a moment longer.

Things felt light—until Toppers voice cut through the peace, calling out to Sarah who was just getting out of the water, surfboard under her arm.

“Hey Sarah, I like the longboard. You know, classic.”

You turned your head just in time to catch Sarah's blank expression as she stepped out of the water, surfboard under her arm. "Thanks," she replied flatly, her tone making it clear she couldn't care less. She didn't even glance his way before walking toward the Pogues.

“Does he ever stop? Like he is still so obviously obsessed with your sister.” You turned to Rafe, propped on your elbows as you watched.

Rafe just shrugged, he definitely couldn’t care less. "I don't know why he bothers," he muttered. "It's like a cat and mouse game he doesn't know he's losing." His tone was dismissive, but there was an edge to it, a hint of his own complicated feelings about Sarah and her new alliances.

Turning back to you, his expression softened, the faint trace of irritation melting into something sweeter. "Can you grab me a beer, baby?" he asked, his voice low, the pet name rolling off his tongue effortlessly. His eyes lingered on your face, taking in every detail-the soft curve of your lips, the way your hair framed your features.

You were quick to open the cooler, reaching for one of the bottles and handing it to him, a soft “thanks” falling from his lips as he stole a gentle kiss from you, It was brief but sweet, leaving you giggling softly. He was so down bad for you.

Nearby, Topper and Kelce were heading into the water with their boards, ready to take on JJ, who was already out catching waves. Ruthie cheered loudly from the shore, oblivious to the annoyed glances she was getting from everyone around her.

Everything was going smoothly as Topper got ready to take on a big wave, propping himself onto his board, when suddenly JJ budged in from the side, stealing Toppers wave.

“Hey! Blatant poach, man!” Rafe yelled as you all watched JJ ride, the annoyed expression on Toppers face not going unnoticed.

“What the hell was that?” Ruthie complained, hands thrown together over her head.

You and Sofia couldn’t help but chuckle, Toppers defeated pout just being too funny, while Rafe didn’t hold back and flipped JJ off. As long as these stupid kook versus pogue fights stayed innocent you had no problem with that, unlike others..

While Topper and Kelce were back on the sand and getting dressed you noticed the pogues gathering around something on the ground, yet you didn’t pay much attention to it as the two boys were still complaining about being defeated by JJ.

Suddenly you heard a loud engine revving behind you, turning on your belly just to see ruhtie sitting behind the wheel of Toppers truck, smirking devilishly. “Instead of whining about it, let’s drift.”

“Give them a taste of their own medicine.” She added, pointing into the other direction. Topper immediately shook his head as he approached his girlfriend, “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

“Are you afraid?”

“I told them we’re gonna be cool.” He replied, definitely unsure of what to do.

At this point Ruhtie was getting annoying, her constant fake smiles and obnoxious comments were bringing out the worst in you.

“Hate to say it. You’re enabling Topper. That’s why they have a problem with you in the first place. They know they can just run all over you.”

Topper stiffened, glared at his girlfriend. “Oh, they can run all over me, Ruthie?”

“Well, I’m about to buzz down there and show them whos beach this is. You gonna make me go by myself?” She replied mockingly. And when Topper didn’t reply she crossed a line, desperate to get to him.

“Or maybe one of these guys wants to go with me instead.”

Immediately all the boys began to whistle, the other kooks gossiping in silence as you heard them mumbling next to you.

“What the—oh wow, she’s such a whore.” you whispered to Sofia, which made her hold back a laugh. Of course you loved to tease Rafe as well, usung other guys to make him jealous, and for you it was just all fun and games, but by the look on Ruthie’s face you could tell she was serious and that was a big ‘no no’. As much as you disliked Topper sometimes, he didn’t deserve that.

“All right, screw it.” Topper caved, getting into the passenger seat, a satisfied smirk on Ruthies face to which you just gagged.

Everyone watched them take off, speeding down the beach at an insane tempo. You stood up, shielding your eyes from the sun as you watched the truck barell towards the pogues, not slowing down.

“Are they fucking crazy?” You yelled towards the other people, everyone just staring.

“It’s all good, baby. Calm down. She’s not gonna do it.” Rafe mumbled as he reached your side, his hand finding its way to your lower back, but you pulled away.

“Good? No, Rafe it’s not. She’s about to run them the fuck over.”

Ruthie swerved dangerously close to the pogues, making them throw themselves to the sides to not get hit. It was actually insane. And as she turned the car to go for another round you could feel the anger inside you built, balling your hands into fists as you couldn’t believe how someone could be so recklessly playing with people’s life’s.

Once Topper and Ruthie got back to the group everyone was cheering, dabbing them up like they were some kind of heroes who just saved the poor villagers from a terrorizing army. Just then ruhtie came face to face with you, expecting you to hype her up as well, but you definitely didn’t want to play this game.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You shouted at her, face red from bubbling with frustration.

“What? It was just—“ she tried to defend herself as she suddenly got cut off by Kiara who was approaching with heavy steps.

“Look what you did!” She stood there, teary eyed as she held a dead baby turtle right into Ruthie’s face. “Is this okay?”

Ruhtie looked away, the way her face turned into embarrassment was almost too good to be true, yet you could be victorious about it.

“No, look at it! There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it.”

You looked up behind ruhtie, the lifeless body of the baby turtle making you sick to your stomach, clinging to your own body.

“I understand you’re upset, Kiara.” Topper tried to cool down the situation, but in vain. Kie was full on pissed and you could understand, it was just so fucked up. “I’m more than upset, Topper.”

“All right, but it was only one. I mean, look, there’s so many more of them.” Ruhtie shrugged as if she just didn’t care and that got to you, your anger now impalpable.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, huh?”

you budged in, brows furrowed in distaste as you faced Ruhtie who was obviously taken aback by your sudden outburst, thinking you were on her side before your gaze was fixed on her instead of Kiara.

“Me? Chill, y/n, they’re just turtles..and some irrelevant pogues.” She chuckled, not taking you serious which made you only angrier.

“Just—what?” You looked at her in disbelief, ruhtie tossing her hair like she hadn’t almost run over actual people. “You almost killed them you absolute psychopath!”

“It’s not that deep.” She snapped back, towering over you, but you didn’t back away, voice steady. “You’re so goddamn selfish, it’s actually embarrassing.” But what was even more embarrassing was that no one, like absolutely nobody was saying anything, not even Rafe which made you just as furious.

He was just standing there, as the argument between you and Ruthie unfolded. He’d watched you stand toe-to-toe with Ruthie, your voice sharp and unwavering as you confronted her reckless behavior. His brows lifted slightly as he took it in—your fire, your refusal to back down.

A slow, subtle grin tugged at the corners of his lips. That was his girl. You weren’t like anyone else in this crowd, and watching you put Ruthie in her place sent a wave of pride through him. You were fierce and unapologetic, not afraid to call out the bullshit no one else would.

But as the argument escalated, Rafe’s grin faded. He saw the way Ruthie’s expression shifted from cocky to defensive, her crossed arms turning rigid as she tried to push back against your words. She had no idea who she was dealing with.

Ruhtie huffed, crossing her arms, “why don’t you just stay out of it?”

“No, I’m done staying out of it,” you hissed. Your anger getting the best of you. Then it happened. In a flash of movement, you shoved Ruthie back with everything you had. The impact sent her stumbling, her arms flailing as she tried to catch her balance.

Rafe’s eyes widened as he saw your body shaking with anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, rushing into your direction.

Ruthie fell back, landing hard in the sand with a look of utter shock on her face. The crowd around you gasped, some exchanging wide-eyed glances while others stifled laughter at Ruthie’s humiliation. But Rafe wasn’t focused on any of them. His attention was entirely on you.

Towering over her you growled, “It’s about time for someone to tell you what a reckless, spoiled little brat you—”

“Alright, enough,” Rafe’s voice suddenly cut through the tension as he stepped in, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back, knowing that if he didn’t you’d probably lunge at her any second and it wouldn’t end pretty.

“Rafe, let me go,” you snapped, your tone fiery, your body still rigid with anger as you tried to push past him.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his grip steady as he kept you firmly in place. His eyes darted between you and Ruthie, who was still on the ground, glaring up at you like she couldn’t believe what just happened.

“Rafe, she needs to hear this—”

“I know,” he cut you off, his voice softer now as he leaned in, his lips close to your ear. “I know, baby. Trust me, she deserved it. But you’ve made your point.”

You struggled against him for a moment longer, the adrenaline still coursing through you. But as you glanced back at him, the calm yet determined look in his eyes softened something inside you.

“Come on,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms, grounding you. “Let’s not give her the satisfaction of dragging this out.”

You huffed, shooting one last death glare at Ruthie before letting Rafe drag you away, now watching from a safe distance. Sofia quickly wrapped an arm around you, whispering, “God, she’s the worst.”

“It’s just the cycle of life, ain’t it right?” Ruhtie then turned to her friends, receiving hesitant nods in approval, yet they were there.

“Cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not the cycle of life!” Kie suddenly slapped Ruhtie in the face, she was really getting it today. As much as you wanted to see Kie kick Ruthie’s ass, it was better for everyone that JJ held her back. “There’s something seriously wrong with you people.”

As kie stomped back to her friends JJ turned around one last time, the words burning on the tip of his tongue.

“If you come near her, or any of us ever again, I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” and with that, he left.

“Topper they threatened us. We should press charges. I mean your grandfather, hes a judge, right?” Ruthie played scared, holding onto her boyfriend.

“She seriously has to get over herself. The world doesn’t revolve around her.” You grumbled in frustration, biting down on your lower lip which was already sore.

“I know baby, but now is not the time for that, okay?” Rafe held you close, rubbing his palms over your tense shoulders to release the tension, yet you refused to lean into him as you were still pissed, stomping away.

As you walked, he couldn’t help but glance down at you, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and adoration. “That was kind of badass, though,” he said quietly, a smirk creeping back onto his face.

You shot him a look, but the corner of your mouth twitched, betraying the faintest hint of a smile. Yet you didn’t feel like you wanted to stay around Ruthie and her friends, pulling on Rafe’s arm.

“I wanna go home. Please get your stuff.” You pouted, walking off and back to the tent where Rafe had parked his car.

You definitely weren’t done with Ruhtie..

LINKS .ᐟ more from doll!reader

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @glitterybombshell @beausling @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @whinyangel @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesfawn @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @maybanksbaby @httpsdrewstarkey @dolcekissy @sematarygirls @cameronsprincess @cherrygirlfriend @cosmicanakin

#doll!reader x rafe cameron 𝜗𝜚 #doll!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe x you #rafe x doll!reader #rafe obx #outer banks

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meliciousmel13 · 2 months ago

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➛ K I L L A

paring: killer!bsf!billie x reader

warnings: smut, mentions of blood (duh), kiddnaping, cheating, mesionary, doggy, billie calls r names (slut, like a few times), mean billie, mentions of alchool, kind of angst(?), strap-on sex, fingering, r has a bf, smut written by a minor. i think that's it, please comment if you find any more! ty

wc: 4,413

SYNOPSIS: billie kills, billie heals.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: so sorry this took so long, i had exams and was also busy irl with things, after finishing i feel so fucking tired and literally everything discusts me idk what tf is wrong with me.

he was sweet at first. you swore it. he was the type to give you flowers everyday. and used to send you good morning and goodnight texts everyday. until he didn’t. you don’t know when you detected that change in him. you don’t know if he just decided to be cruel one day.

he doesn’t even hit you. is what he says. it’s true. he doesn’t. but what he does do, is manipulate and completely destroy your ego with just words.

like when he pointed out that it looked like you were gaining wight. he didn’t even have to tell you. you were like his trained dog. his trophy wife—girlfriend. like you had no use beyond your looks.

he’d always let his “friends” touch you, always try to impress them with you. point out that you were his pretty, submissive, pet girlfriend. most of them were ugly too.

was what billie says. she said that you should leave the asshole or maybe break into his house kill him in his sleep. she suggested doing it, but you always laughed it off. saying he treats you completely fine.

she always came over at your house when she knew he was there. intruding on your weekly dates and sitting on your couch like it was hers. he’d always glare at her. and you understood she could be a little infuriating sometimes and a little possessive but if henry wanted you, then he’d have to deal with your best friend too.

you met billie in 3rd grade. when you were small and new to the huge school. she approached you, and asked you to play with her in recces. you had so much in common. she loved to run, and you loved to run…

you were good together. you balanced each other out.

but she scares you sometimes—considering she has a gun, she’d always pretend to be dead. but you were immune to her little pranks now. she did them too often. you were too used to them.

you went to the bar just to get a drink or two. to get a break from your annoying boyfriend and equally annoying best friend, you loved her. really, you did. but she tires you out.

until you saw an incredibly hot boy walk toward you.

“hey,” he said, with a pretty smile, he was beautiful, you knew boys weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was.

“hi,” you said back, slightly looking up at him, tall too.

“think i can buy you a drink?”

you bit your lip, didn’t even think about henry, didn’t even think about your boyfriend.

you nodded, “i’m quinn, and you are..?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.” you answered.

he was sweet and polite—talked with you a little to see if you were interested, not the intrusive, even-if-you-say-no-i-still-wanna-annoy-you type. told you he could drive you home, even asked for your number

you listened. found yourself in his jacked up car. didn’t even question why it smelled so awful in there (billie’s pranks made you not even question it). or why he had a shady duffle bag in his back seat.

“you want some water?” he asked you, driving away from the bar, and to the main road.

“yeah,” you nodded, taking a few sips and recapped it, placing it in the cup holder in the dashboard, “thank you.” you mumbled.

“you’re welcome.”

you don’t know exactly when you blacked out. it happened all at once almost. his hands on your body tying you to a wooden chair. when you woke up you were in a big warehouse. drowsy, quinn. on your phone, scrolling.

“what?” you say, looking up, and looking around. trying to find out why you were tied to a chair. when your gaze fell on him.

“your awake.” he smiled, “i think i used too much powder.” what the fuck?“you slept for too long.”

how. how the hell. did you get kidnapped. it was infuriating. all you wanted was to relax and have a drink. but you get into even more annoying bullshit.

he stayed on your phone for at least 30 minutes, or at least that’s how much it felt like. quinn groaned, massaging his temples and looking up at you.

“you got a charger?” he said, and you shake your head. which made him sigh even louder.

it took a while but he found a charger in his duffle bag. found a plug and sat down on the dirty floors continuing to scroll through your phone. also a creep. why was everyone you were remotely attracted to either 34 years old or a complete weirdo?

you heard the warehouse door creek, and see a dark figure creep inside. wearing all black clothes and—they were walking towards you.

they were in front of you now, looking up, you say a black mask and sunglasses with the hood of the hoodie covering almost everything. you wondered how he(?) could see.

you let out a small “mhph” and the figure tilted it’s head, going behind you and waiting for quinn to notice. he didn’t. so he hit the corner of the wooden chair, emitting a loud “THUMP” through out the large warehouse.

quinn finally looked behind him. “hey— uh, are you..?” he stood up, probably thinking the figure was also a killer? kidnapper? whatever. maybe he was his sidekick or something. you didn’t know. all you knew was that the person behind you had a knife. and it was currently on your neck.

“hey! whoaa, calm down dude. you don’t need to do that. we’re friends right?” for a kidnapper, he was pathetic. really fucking pathetic.

you couldn’t see behind you, but considering quinn’s smile, it was good. “yeah! yeah.. your nodding so we’re friends. we’re friends.” he repeated. seeing the man? woman? person? you didn’t know, walk towards him, with the knife hanging off his right hand.

you never would’ve seen it coming. all you saw was blood splattering across the walls and dripping onto the floors. you wanted to scream. but you closed your eyes instead. the scene of the knife slitting quinn’s throat. how he tried dropped to the floor and coughed blood.

the scene kept repeating in your brain and you saw it when you closed your eyes. you finally open your eyes. and saw the figure walking towards you, dropping the bloody knife to the floor and bending to your eye level.

it was sort of intimate. how his bloody gloved hands removed your gag. you breathed through your mouth for a while. swallowing and licking your dry lips. “thank you.” you mumble-whisper, he was untying you now and you didn’t know whether to be scared of him, or thankful that he just killed your kidnapper.

he untied you, took your hand and walked towards the seemingly dead body of quinn. there was a body of blood around him, he bent down and took the car keys from quinn’s dead body.

you felt safe. it was scary because you felt safe. a killer was holding your hand and leading you to a car and you felt safe.

he opened the door to quinn’s car. and you realized that he hasn’t spoken a word ever since he walked into the doors of that warehouse.

you didn’t know what to say. all you wanted to do was go home. or go to billie. anywhere that’s not here.

his driving was that to billie’s. you didn’t notice, maybe you did, your was brain too messy to think logically. of why you were in a killer’s car, and why you felt safe.

you arrived at the nearest building. a gas station. just staring at the gas station. did he expect you to get off? you couldn’t. your knees were too weak. so you just stared at him. and he stared at you. just holding the wheel and looking out his side of the window, waiting for you to leave. like he’d done his part or something.

“what?” you said dryly, “i’ll go— just gimme a little.” you sigh, and lay back on the seat. you could hear him sigh too. he bucked his hips and slid half way down the seat. just like billie did.

you both breathed for a while. until you gained the courage to leave. he drove off the second you got out. you walked to the gas station. there were 2 other cars behind you and you had blood on your cheeks.

the bell ringed at your entrance. and the part-timer didn’t spare a glance at you. you felt small. you kind of wanted to be small, you wanted to be like, six or something.

“um—” you wanted to go home. all you could think of was home, home, home and billie.

“what.” she said, still not looking up from her phone. you wanted her to see you. thinking your appearance would explain your situation without you having to move your mouth.

she sighed, and looked up. closing her phone and looking. her eyes skimmed past your skirt and hoodie and stared at your face.

she helped. gave you her phone so you could call someone to pick you up and you called billie. you knew if you called your henry he’d take two hours to get here. she helped clean up your bloody face and you finally talked.

“i ran away.” you explained, and kathryn listened intently, “i— i um—” you stutter, and she rubbed your arms reassuringly, you were struggling to find a good excuse, you couldn’t. so you told her the half-truth.

billie came to pick you up in record time, it took her 25 minutes. which was fast because the ride to here would take at least 33 minutes. probably sped up.

billie was concerned when she came, she hugged you tightly when you got out the station, mumbling “thank fuck your safe.” and “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” it was the first time you’ve seen her so scared. she wasn’t the type to panic, if she did she would hide it.

you were still shook. your back was stiff and your usual laid back position in her car turned all polite with your hands on your lap and your head towards the window. whenever billie asked something you’d reply dryly, you felt bad but what did she expect?

at first she wanted to take you home. to your own house that you own. but you couldn’t stay alone after that. it was too traumatizing. so she drove you to her house.

when you entered your nose was filled with billie. her musky cologne and her.

she took you to her room, and it was a mess. you didn’t care though, collapsed onto her queen sized bed. and tried to not pay attention to the smell, it reminded you of his car. the water, the bag. everything reminded you of him.

“do you wanna change?” she asked, and you nodded. looking around her room like it was the first time you’ve seen it.

she was holding the clothes now, expecting you to get up and wear them. you didn’t. just stared up at her.

“come on,” she mumbled, taking your arm and helping you get up. you didn’t know what happened, maybe your brain finally processed the entire situation. maybe you expecting felt safe enough to just cry. you did, you felt tears welling up in your eyes when billie tried taking your shirt off, you cried in her arms and she held you.

you let out small whimpers and hiccups of her name and while trying to calm you down she put your head on her shoulder, turning your head you saw a pile of black clothes in the corner, probably thrown in a hurry. ignoring it, you dig your head in her neck and breathe her in. her scent calmed you down.

its been 3 minutes now and billie has been rubbing you back and kissing your shoulders the whole time.

all you wanted to do was curl up in her lap and not think. you just wanted to not think for once. maybe she could run her hands through your hair while doing it. you didn’t have to ask. she took you to lay your head on her lap. and your heart ached with something you’ve never felt before, something indescribable and immensely painful. you curled up, half in her lap, half in your own, in desperate need of comfort from someone other than him yourself. for a moment, her gentle touch helped you forget.

it was peaceful. it was so damn peaceful and you wanted to cry because you’ve never felt so safe before. your knees hurt. and the way your legs were positioned on her lap actually hurt. but you couldn’t get away. you couldn’t think—you couldn’t do anything. it was like you were frozen.

but you liked it. you liked not thinking and not doing anything—it felt good. like for once you didn’t have to do anything. billie ran her hands through your hair and slowly undressed you with her eyes. she rubbed your hips and kissed your arms. it felt good and you wanted more.

“can i take this off?” she asked.

“yes.” you replied, turning around slightly to see her pulling your hoodie above your arms and off. she laid it down next to her and she gazed upon you like you were the moon and stars and her savior. you felt needed. in that moment you felt like someone wanted you, beyond just as friends or girlfriends or boyfriends.

billie finally touched you. she touched your belly first. rubbing your sides and looked at you. you felt kind of shy? her eyes made you shy. you wanted to look away. but you couldn’t. gasping, once her roaming hands touched your breasts.

“fuck.” she mumbled, and you didn’t even think of what you were doing. just focused on how good it felt, to have her on top of you—touching you. it was the sort of thing you dream of and never expect it to actually happen. but it did. it was happening right now.

“billie.” you whine-gasp as her hand slips under your skirt and lifting it up. it was a pornographic scean really. literally the things you’d see in porn. this was different though—heavenly.

the skirt was laying above your hips, revealing your pink underwear, and billie looked stuck in a haze. she sighed. it wasn’t an annoyed sigh or anything, she was in awe. you could see it all over her face—you could see what she was thinking.

one hand was playing with your nipples, tweaking and pinching. the other was just rubbing up and down your thigh. she spread your legs and your head was near the edge of the bed.

billie stopped the movements on your nipples and fully focused on your underwear, pulling them to the side and biting her lip, “you’re fuckin’ dripping f’me.” she breathed out, running her thumb up your pussy and collecting your arousal, “all this for me? hm?” you were flushed, if the room wasn’t already hot she was making it hot.

“billie.” you whined, and she tilted her head, “touch—”

“touch you?” she interrupted, “you want me to touch you? huh? my slut wants me to touch her,” she chuckled bending down your your legs at the side of her hips, she kissed and nipped at your neck, “c’mon, tell me how i should touch you.” she pulled away and grinned as you bit your lip, looking away and gripping her messy sheets.

“if you can’t say anything then how do i know where to touch you? so fuckin’ whiny.” she groaned, gripped your underwear with her whole fist and dragged her middle finger through your folds, slipping it half and inch in and pulled away before you could beg for more.

“billie.” you whined, bucking your hips and looking up at her with the most pitiful expression, pouty lips and eyebrows furrowed.

“billie,” she mimicked your whine, “can’t wait ny’ longer please js’ fuck me already.” she laughed, imitating you. she was so mean. by now you were ruining her bed sheets, your thighs were stained and her dark jeans were a mess, because of you.

she was sitting with her knees bent under your thighs, your legs were laid by her hips and your pussy had a perfect angle to grind on her stomach, you didn’t, she gave you a perfect opportunity to get the pleasure you wanted but you didn’t. you had this burning desire to be good for her. you just wanted to be good for her.

her hand was still gripping you underwear and you were wondering what she was thinking about, “billie?” you called out her name, looking up at her innocently like you weren’t spread out beneath her.

“yeah?

“need you.” you breathed out, and that seemed to wake her up. she got up from the bed and walked towards her dresser, “where are you going?” she didn’t answer. only digging through her dresser, she pulled out a box and took something from it, you just sighed and laid your head back on the bed.

“c’mere.” she said, taking your hips to her hands and dragging you to lay back on her pillows, taking one and putting it under your back, you smiled, for no reason at all, “what?” she asked.

“what, what?

“why are you smiling?” she kissed your neck, it was sweet, how she cared about you.

“nothing.” you shook your head, and looked down to find something poking your entrance, “billie.” you looked back up.

“what?” she smirked.

“it won’t fit.” you gripped the sheets.

“i’ll make it fit.” she said, and dragged the silicone across your pussy, entering her middle finger to get you ready for her. you moaned, it was embarrassing almost. she didn’t even do anything yet, “my pretty girl.” she breathed out, adding another finger and pumping into you slowly—she started to kiss your neck, and mumble filth into your ear.

“ffuck— billie!” you moaned—loudly, right in her ear. you didn’t mean to. really, you didn’t. but she added another digit in you, your brain was already a mess.

she pulled away from your neck, groaning. looking frustrated. but not at you, “you did that on purpose didn’t you” she asked and you looked up at her, before you could reply she dragged your thighs closer to her and pumped her fingers faster.

“billie— can’t—”

“can’t what? hm? slut.”

“m’ gonna cum—” you whined, feeling her fingers brush your g-spot. your swore you heard her mumble something but it was too quiet for you to hear. all you could think of was billie billie billie. it felt so good. your mind was fuzzy and you were seeing stars.

rolling your eyes back you could feel her gaze on you. you didn’t even think, just gripped her wrist and whined, “want me to stop?” she smirked.

“no! no, don’t stop. please please— billie.”

“you can’t cum until i say so angel.” she said, cruel. you whimpered as she took her fingers out of you, taking the silicone cock and angling it to your pussy, you bit your lip, feeling her rub circles on clit and rubbing her cock up and down on your pussy.

“hurry up.” you said.

“bossy.” she mumbled, didn’t even say anything back, just laid your head back on the bed and felt the tip go into you, instead of gripping the sheets you grip her biceps, “oh.” you gasp, and billie slowed down, so you could get used to the feeling to of the strap.

“ready?” she asked, and you nodded, she filled you up and you could feel the ridges of the strap against your walls, it was almost too big, you were scared at first but she took your hand and looked down at you with an almost sweet expression, you knew what she was thinking about though.

“who said it wouldn’t fit?” she said, and you looked up at her with your mouth agape, feeling her rub up and down your thighs while waiting for you to adjust. at least she was waiting. she was better than him.

you imagined your boyfriend walking into her room, seeing billie fucking you with her strap, you imagined his angry face, how you’d whimper moan into her ear, while staring at him. you wanted him to see.

billie was moving her hips and you gripped her biceps, it hurt, almost. you felt bad for her neighbors. but that was the least of your worries.

“wish you could see yourself.” billie mumbled, and pulled out, before you could even protest she turned you around, taking your hips and lifting them up.

oh, you felt filthy. she was angling the strap to your entrance and you laid your head on the pillow, turning so you could see her. you hated that you couldn’t see her.

“billie—” before you could even whine you felt her thrust into you harshly, “oh— fuck.” you moan.

“yeah? what do you wanna say angel? can’t say—” she gripped your hips and slammed into you roughly, “can’t say a thing, hm baby?” mean. she was so mean.

“wanna’ see you.” you whine, digging your head into the pillow, billie started to kiss up your back, you didn’t even have to see her you could feel the smirk on her face. every time she drives into you, your juices squelch, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“wanna’ see you.” she mocked, looking down, seeing a white substance cover the end of her strap, “fuck—” billie hissed, your moans and whimpers were driving her insane. your walls cling to her, squeezing her tighter with every thrust. her pace became erratic, desperate, hips snapping harder and faster.

“so fuckin’ tight,” she sighed, letting go of your hips and gripped the pillow under your stomach, “nd’ perfect.” she plowing into you and you were so close. you could feel it, brewing in your lower stomach, you didn’t want to tell billie, scared if you did she’d take it all away and make you beg to come.

“billie— can’t hold it.” you whine, feeling her hand grip your hips so tight you knew it would bruise the next morning.

“just a little more sweetheart.” she said, and you wanted to listen, you wanted to be a good girl, for her. but you couldn’t. clenching around her and gripping the pillow in a vice grip, s hard you were scared it was going to rip. you didn’t want to ruin her pillow so you let go. holding the sheets softly.

billie saw your hesitation and sighed, “you can hold the pillow angel, i won’t be—” she licked her lips, “won’t be mad.” she reassured, and you put your hands back on the pillow.

“can i come?” you were so cute. whimpering and moaning under her. she almost said yes. wanted to say yes, but she wanted to show you how much better she was making you come, than your asshole boyfriend with a micro dick and massive ego.

“no.” she replied, and you whined.

“why not.” you had to hold back a moan, just to speak.

“cause’.”

you waited, bit your lip and closed your eyes and hoped she would finally allow you to come.

“billie.” your hands clutch onto the pillow desperately trying to hold it in. it hasn’t even been a minute yet.

“you can hold it a little more, can’t you angel?” you could’ve came right there. could’ve. it was a choice, she gave you a choice. you could come, or you could wait, just a little longer.

you held it in, feeling the strap hit deeper and deeper each thrust, it hit your g-spot every time. she already knew your body like that back of her hand and he didn’t even know what a clit was.

“how would henry think about this?” billie said, hinting to what your boyfriend would think if he saw you, “seeing you like this— hm?” you hated how she made you think of him while she was literally pounding into you.

“billie.” you warn—try to, at least. but the moan right after made it really hard to be intimidating, plus the fact that you couldn’t be intimidating to save your life. having billie trail after you where ever you go was enough scary-dog privilege. she did the intimidating, you were always smiling.

“yeah? have somethin’ to say?’ she mocked. you wanted to be mad at her, you wanted to turn around and teach her a lesson—you wanted. you never did a thing.

by this point the knot in your lower belly was hard to ignore, every time you moaned, or whined and whimpered you felt it throbbing. you squeezed around the silicone tightly feeling billie struggle to keep up the same fast pace. and you finally felt like you were winning, she was getting tired.

“can i come?” you whimpered, again, praying for her to say yes.

“you can come now angel.” billie bit her lip, holding your hips and you finally let go.

“i’m cumming!” you whimpered in between moans, screams filling her room as it finally hit you, your ears ringing and vision faltering as she helped you ride it out.

you whined when she pulled the strap out of you, leaving you empty and needy. “fuck, would you look at that.” there was a pleased smirk on her face as she looked at the soaked, creamy white strap.

“how’d that feel?” she asked, like she didn’t just give you the longest and best orgasm of your life, he’s never made you come before so you don’t even have anything to compare her to.

“s’ good.” you mumble drowsily, collapsing on your stomach to the pillow she placed there when she let go of her hold on your hips.

“so fucked out.” she smiled, and your head was turned to her bedside table, seeing some blood? red paint? something—stained on it, you ignore it, it was probably because of how old the thing was.

you heard her mumble something like, “fuck, i need to clean that” when seeing where your head was directioned, she was talking about the strap, right?

#billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish one shot

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gor3-hound · 8 months ago

Text

promise i'm working on content right now but here's a drabble because uhh... it came to me x

corrupt cop leon !! 18+ content

tw: non-con, lil mysogyny and filming. fem!reader

Leon thinks you're cute. Real cute. He'd happily take you out to dinner and treat you real nice if Irons wasn't working his ass to the bone. He barely has enough time to eat or sleep as of late, let alone take the time out of his day to take a pretty girl to a fancy dinner. Not that he could afford to on his payroll, even if he wanted to. City life sure wasn't cheap, something he had to learn the hard way.

He's not a scary cop, not on the surface. He can see the way you instantly relax as you see his face after he pulls up next to you. He's still all baby-faced and bright-eyed, his gaze shining as he looks over you.

"Late night for a pretty girl like you to be out," he had said, shooting you a disarming smile. He'd gotten you to talk for a while, nodding and acting all interested until he got your guard down enough. He didn't have to sweet talk you, but he was nice enough to at least try and get the girl compliant enough to go along with him.

Didn't last long, though. You really started to kick up a fuss as he got a little too touchy with you. All girls like you were so stuck-up. How many dates did a guy have to splurge on to get into some panties? What ever happened to a good old-fashioned backseat blowie? The Internet really fucking ruined women. They all thought they were 'too good' for a quick fuck. Like that'd stop him.

He has you pushed over the hood of his car in a few seconds flat. Cop training came in handy, made him real good at restraining the pretty girls he wanted to stick his dick into. Had you cuffed with his hand cupping your mouth before you could even think about screaming, fumbling with his belt for about 30 seconds before he's hiking your skirt up and tugging your panties to the side.

He thrusts into you with one quick snap of his hips, groaning loudly as your tight heat wraps around his cock. You're not really wet, but the warmth and snugness makes up for your lack of arousal. It makes his cock twitch as you cry out into his hand, the feeling of tears gathering against the skin as they trickle down your cheeks making him grin. He always loved it when they cried, made him feel like his cock was really doing some damage.

"Can you do me a favour, sweetheart?" He murmurs, pressing wet kisses down your neck as he thrusts into you, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. Still not enough to get you dripping for him. Jeez, you were a picky one, huh? He had a pretty cock, most girls at least had the decency to get wet after a while. You're lucky you're just his type, or he would've dumped you on the side of the road by now.

"See that light right there?" He breathes out after a beat, his free hand tapping the window right where his dashboard camera sits, recording his every move. He grins against your neck, pretty blues peeking through his lashes as he stares at the camera. "Look at it for me, baby. Wanna be able to watch your pretty face on video when I fill you up."

His words seem to make you panic a little, your cunt clenching around his dick as you start to sob, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe against his palm. You're drooling all over him, and he's starting to wish he decided to fuck that pretty throat of yours rather than your cunt, cause that's the only thing on you that seems to know how to get wet. Oh, well. He's too close now to bother pulling out.

It only takes him a few more thrusts before he spills his seed deep inside of you with a whimper, his eyes squeezing shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He pulls out a minute later, tucking himself back into his pants, leaving your trembling body bent over his patrol car. Takes him a moment to catch his breath, then he unlocks your cuffs and rubs your wrists - all sweet and gentle.

"Up you get, sweetheart." He pats your ass before helping you up, straightening out your skirt with a sweet smile on his face - like his cum wasn't dripping down the inside of your thighs. He pulls out a wad of cash, stuffing it down your top just to get an excuse to peek at the tits he never got around to touching.

"Money for a taxi, cutie. There's some really nasty men lurking around this time of night."

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you

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bad268 · 5 months ago

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heyy could you write a kimi x reader story where the reader is american? sorta inspired by olivia rodrigo’s so american possibly? tyyy love your writing

So American (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X American! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (thank you lovey! I'm sorry this is short, olivia rodrigo is not my main type of music, so this was the first time I heard it lol)

Warnings: Aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 840

Summary: So American by Olivia Rodrigo

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

God, you were gonna marry him if he kept this shit up. He was just perfect, and you were sure you were in love.

Kimi was written by a female, you could tell. The way he was just all around perfect, you couldn’t get over it. He was the perfect person to be with, the perfect gentleman, and the best companion. You would happily follow him anywhere he went.

Late-night drives were the best. Where you two would fly down the nearly empty roads, your feet up on the dashboard, you two felt free. Granted, late-night drives did not happen as much as you wanted them to since his schedule was so hectic, and they were only really used to help you two go to sleep. You would happily sit in the passenger seat, wearing one of Kimi’s shirts and sweatpants as you picked the best music to pick the vibes.

“You’re so American,” Kimi chuckled one night when you played Party in the U.S.A.

“This is what makes you think I’m American?” You chuckled back, moving to change the song.

“No, leave it,” Kimi stopped you, moving his hand from the shifter to push your phone down and hold your hand. “I like that you’re so American. It’s cute.”

“Ah, you think I’m cute?” You joked, making your voice an octave higher.

“Of course I do,” He chuckled again, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re the cutest.”

God, it wasn’t fair! How could this vroom vroom guy make you feel this much? If he kept this shit up, you might be in lo-

That drive made you realize you didn’t just love Kimi, but you were in love with him. He was everything to you and that interaction helped put that into perspective for you. You were infatuated with him. You would talk about him any chance you could to anyone who would listen. You could not stop thinking or talking about him. His style and his interests became yours. You used to be such a homebody, fully content with sleeping the day away, but man, it’s hard to sleep when he’s with you.

It was one of those off weekends during the summer break. Mercedes gave their drivers the first week completely off. No media, no training, no nothing. Just a free break to rest, recuperate, relax and recharge. Kimi decided to spend it in America with you. He had only been to America for the Miami Grand Prix, but he wanted to visit your hometown and stay for a while. His family was fine with it since it’s easier to stop by Italy when most of the races are in Europe. America is a little farther away.

And you two did exactly what he wanted. You took him around your neighborhood, showed him around all of your favorite spots, and had fun not abiding by the harsh racing schedule for a week. It was nice to just stop and be teens for a week. It wasn’t until the night before he had to head back to Brackley for media and training that you realized you didn't want to let him go again.

You both laid in bed, a movie long forgotten in the background. Kimi was asleep, but you were wide awake. You were busy memorizing every feature of his face, counting his freckles, twirling his curls. You watched his breaths steady as he fell Anything, everything, and nothing all at the same time. You didn’t want him to go back yet.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or will you eventually go to sleep?” Kimi’s groggy voice broke you out of your trance. You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize he woke up. You stared at him in shock, and when his word registered, your eyes became watery. Of course, being the ever-attentive boyfriend he is, Kimi noticed immediately, making a move to sit up and turn on the lamp. He pulled you into his arms and held you against his chest, “Hey, amore (love), what’s going on? You can talk to me.”

“I don’t want you to go back yet,” You whimpered as you hid your face in his chest. “I’m sorry if it’s a little too much or a little too soon, and I don't wanna assume this stuff, but do you love me? I think I’m in love with you, and I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.”

“Hey, slow down,” Kimi comforted, pulling you back a little to rest his forehead against yours to look you in the eyes. He whispered, “Ti amo mille (I love you so much).”

“God, I wanna marry you,” You sighed with a light laugh. “Is it too soon to say that?”

“No,” He laughed with you, pulling you into a brief kiss. “I can always take you with me. I wouldn’t mind having il mio Americano (my American) with me for a while. I’d love it actually.”

~~~~~

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arjudy224 · 2 months ago

Text

Chemical Valley

(The Intern x Red Hood)

After the unsettling reminder of her past, Y/N has been avoiding vigilantes for the last few months. However, Dr. Harris has requested backup in the form of Gotham's newest crime lord. What could go wrong?

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I'm getting real sick of risking my life for a minimum-wage job. Driving around with Dr. Harris is one thing, but since when did the job description list teaming up with crime lords? I mean it's the Red Hood for Christ's sake. Dr. Harris gives me a protective smile from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about Red Hood. He knows what he's doing." He starts sensing my apprehension. "Besides, he owes me a favor."

I nod with a nervous smile. Red Hood is the only vigilante that I've never interacted with. He only recently appeared in Gotham. From what I've heard on the streets, he isn't exactly on great terms with Batman.

"All due respect... hasn't he killed people? " I question glancing around the lonely alleyway.

Growing silent, Harris contemplates his response.

"Not recently." He says with what is supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Trying to ignore the anxiety creating knots across my gut, I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel.

"Oh well... that's progress."

Harris laughs.

"It's Gotham dear. It's hard to find someone who hasn't committed murder. I wouldn't worry too much about the Hood though. If you can befriend Waylon, a little boy in a helmet is the least of your worries. "

I raise an eyebrow.

"You wanna elaborate?"

He smiles sweetly. I narrow my eyes.

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

That shuts me up. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what he just said. Dr. Harris isn't exactly wrong... Glancing at the time clock on the dashboard, I frown. I guess vigilantes aren't known for being punctual, but at least Nightwing was on time. Considering our history, maybe we were both eager to see each other again. I try to focus on the cool air dusting across my face.

A swift knock causes me to jump. The infamous Red Hood almost cartoonishly waves at me from the outside the window. My nervous heart patters like a hummingbird. Eyeing his bike, I sigh. It was silent... Of course, it was silent. What kind of muffler does he have on that thing?

Harris rolls down the window.

"Good morning. Thank you for meeting us."

Leaning on the car door, Red Hood asks in a deep voice

"What do you have for me Dr.?"

"Routine inspection of Ace chemicals. Normally, I wouldn't worry about having a backup, but with an uptick in Joker sightings... I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."

Hood nods, then glances in my direction.

"I'll keep an eye out."

"Y/N L/N," I say introducing myself, "But most people call me L/N."

"Weren't you the one who convinced the Riddler to let you go in exchange for inspecting his lair for asbestos?" Hood asks with a tone of pride.

I smile while shaking his hand. Word must get around quick.

"Yeah, that's me. He didn't even ask me any riddles. The poor man was terrified."

Dr. Harris whips his head around.

"Why haven't I heard about this?" He demands.

I flash him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Dr. Maybe Metropolis hasn't made me so soft after all."

Before he can start lecturing me, I step out of the car to face my new bodyguard. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I sidestep the hulking mammoth of a man.

"Thank you for dropping me off Dr., but I'm sure "Little" Red and I can take it from here."

From the Driver's seat, Harris watches me with a hint of pride.

"This is not the last time we will be discussing this."

"I look forward to the debrief," I remark as he pulls away.

The ACE chemicals manufacturing plant towers over the surrounding buildings. The smoke stacks excrete a dark sticky aerosol that trickles down from above. Its gothic structure makes it look like something out of a Tim Burton film. Taking a step near the external shutter, I drag my index finger across. My glove smears a damp power off revealing the old white paint. An uncomfortable sensation settles in my chest.

There is no way this amount of air pollution is legal.

After my second round of coughing, Red Hood offers me a disposable face mask. I gratefully take it. The neon green sign serves as a haunting reminder that somehow this has passed inspection. My eyebrows narrow. We passed several kids on the way here. What does that do to someone? No wonder Dr. Harris mentioned childhood asthma. I'm more concerned about the long-term exposure to industrial solvents.

Glancing at Red Hood, I state

"There is no way this is legal."

Red Hood stays quiet for a moment. Adjusting his helmet, he replies

"The law can be anything you want as long as you kill the inspectors who challenge you."

My mouth falls open. A thousand questions flood my mind.

"Somebody must have tried."

Hood tilts his head while glancing between us and the doors.

"Somebody did try."

Tossing me a key card over his shoulder, he continues, "You can visit them in Arkham if you want."

I flounder to catch the key card. It takes a few moments to register his words. Them as in more than one? Or is he concealing their identity? By the time my brain focuses, I stand in the alley alone staring up at a sign for a trading card company.

Isn't that where the Joker.... Oh hell no...

Stumbling through the stained doors, a bubbly man contrasts the bleak external welcome. As he rambles, I analyze the faded posters nailed to the wall. Dr. Harris briefly mentioned the factory's history of producing bioweapons during the Second World War. Hazardous feels like an understatement. I nodd along with the pleasant man, yet something in my gut tells me to keep my eyes and ears open.

Walking past a dust cloud, my lungs contract. Unable to steady myself, I sneak down a back hall to take my inhaler. The rambling man continues down the other hallway completely oblivious to my absence. I tear the disposable mask off my face. Searching my pockets for the familiar medication, my heart drops. Of course, I left it in the car.

I sink into a seated position once the dizziness sets in. Do. Not. Panic. We cannot do that again. No more emergency room trips. A pair of boots emerges from the shadows.

"Are you alright?"

I nodd while focusing on each labored breath.

"Sometimes, I really hate this city." I wheeze clutching my chest.

Red Hood lets out a dry laugh before taking a seat next to me.

"I have something that might help, but you have to trust me."

A small inhaler makes its way into my left hand. Squinting, a small Bat engraving stares up at me. I give him an incredulous glance. There is no fucking way that Batman has a pharmacy.

"It works. I promise."

Reluctantly, I take two puffs. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I relish the first full breath of air in days. My lungs expand completely. It is glorious.

"How is your friendship with Killer Croc?"

The immense pain that weighs on my chest lessens slightly.

"I'm sure Waylon wouldn't use the word friend. "

I open my eyes to look at him. Spots litter my vision. The sticky residue has left grime all over his mask. I hesitate.

"Waylon has lost everything... Everyone really. All he really needed was a friend."

Hood stays silent weighing out my words.

"What factory did they make you in?" He questions.

I can almost hear a smile in his voice.

"The same one that kicked you out for defects." I retort staring at the white paint peeling on the far left wall.

Considering the age of this building, I really hope that's not lead paint.

"Touché, Ms. Friendship. Touché"

I give him a friendly shove.

"You know, you aren't as bad as your reputation suggests."

He laughs climbing to his feet.

"I wouldn't go that far. Usually, I'm a dick."

"Better a dick than a sociopath," I say dusting off the black power on my pants.

"Damn Metropolis. Who have you been talking to?"

I shrug.

"It's Gotham. "

After a few moments of friendly silence, he asks

"You ready to find Mr. Optimistic?"

I nodd allowing him to pull me to my feet. Enjoying the comfortable silence, I open the door for him once we make it down the hall. To my surprise, Red Hood slams me against a wall before covering my mouth. Paralyzed in shock, I don't fight him. The Red Bat insignia stares at me. The soft aroma of his cologne catches me off guard. It's nice. Very musky. There's something so... familiar about it. I suddenly feel my face go red. There is no way I am evaluating how good a CRIMINAL smells. Get a grip girl.

Ignoring my mental crisis, Red Hood leads the two of us out the back door. Stumbling out the door behind him, I bend over holding my knees for stability. This is a lot of cardio for a regular inspection.

"What the hell was that about dude?" I hiss in between breaths.

Red Hood doesn't say anything.

"I know you are trying for the strong and silent type, but I think this partnership would benefit from open communication."

Standing up tall, a gunman aims a pistol directly at my temple.

Oh.. That's why.

Tag list: @nosyrobin, @jjsmeowthie, @epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin, @rory-cakes, @luna-zendra-star

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nicxl333 · 1 year ago

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could you do a part 2 of bllk boys accidentally hurting their partner bu with a good ending please.

My stomach wouldn't be able to handle mor angst(⁠T⁠T⁠)

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM PT.2

thanks for the req anon, i think you’re doing everyone a favour here by asking for this because whew! i was ready to dropkick a mf from writing pt.1 lmao

also if you’re here by chance it’s probably best if you read pt.1 for context before you read pt.2 | :3

characters: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, itoshi rin

content: overwhelming fluff, slight angst, major angst (in rin and barou’s part), reader is female coded (the term ‘girlfriend ‘ is used)

tags: @kaiserkisser @silly-ez @scaramouchemyloveee @mariyumemi @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hsxhype @aquamarine001 @nxgiswife @hanagoromo-roses

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

two weeks. two long, monotonous weeks spent without isagi. yes bachira did his very best to make sure you were comfortable with him, but you missed isagi so damn much.

it wasn’t only difficult for you though, bachira was trapped in a bad position. due to him being a friend of both you and isagi, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. while it was evident that isagi had fucked you over badly, being in a team with isagi and having him as a bestfriend didn’t make things better. he couldn’t just pick a side and be done with it.

unbeknownst to you though, isagi asked bachira multiple times each day about how you were doing. after some self reflection, he realised just how wrong he was for treating you that way. especially since people like you nowadays are hard to come by. someone so nurturing, caring and full of love and devotion for their s/o was quite the rarity to find. and to think he nearly lost all of that with just a few words. really opened up his perspective of things. he wanted to do better. for you and himself.

and so, he cut down his training times, making more time for himself to wind down from daily intensive workouts. he thought of words to say to you, to make it known to you that he was aware where he went wrong and was taking responsibility for his actions.

he also went shopping, to buy you a multitude of gifts. clothes, jewellery, trainers and heels, perfumes, trinkets. you name it, he bought it. it all cost him a hand and a foot, but he didn’t mind, he would do it 100 times over for you. (we should remember this man is a professional footballer, he’s got dough.) once home, he placed all the gifts on the coffee table in the living room, having to put some on the floor due to the sheer amount he bought, ready to take them to bachira’s tomorrow.

little did he know he wouldn’t have to make the commute.

you had said your goodbyes to bachira that same day, thanking him for taking you in for so long with a big bear hug, to which he returned with just as much (platonic) love as you had shown him. you placed your bag in the backseat of your car, turning on the ignition and beginning the drive back home.

as the roads whizzed by you on the highway, so did the thoughts in your head. you were very nervous to have to talk to isagi again, to have to recall exactly what happened that night. glancing at the time on the dashboard, you drew the conclusion that isagi should be training right now, which would at least give you time to prepare before he got back.

as you pulled up to the apartment complex, the first thing you noticed was that isagi’s car was there, in his usual spot next to yours.

‘he’s home?’

surely not, maybe he just hitched a ride or something. although that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. there would be no reason why isagi would skip his evening trainings, not that you could think of anyways. even after joint practice with his team he would then further push himself to do his own training, polishing up on his skills. so to think he’s potentially broken that pattern confused you.

after parking your car and collecting your things you made your way to your front door, unlocking it and venturing in. once you placed your keys on the side table and took off your shoes, you walked into the empty living room, ultimately puzzled when you noticed the coffee table filled to the brim with bags from your favourite places.

“yoichi? you there?”

nothing.

you therefore assumed he was out, deciding to take a closer look at the bags. inside, everything you had ever bought for yourself or displayed interest in while out with isagi lay in each bag. even things that you didn’t have, but wanted, were present.

he remembered.

your eyes immediately welled with tears of appreciation, head snapping to your bedroom door when you heard it open, isagi’s figure stepping out. you immediately jolted, not expecting him to actually be here, even though you didn’t actually take the time to look and see properly.

“shit! y/n, you’re back? wait, why’re you crying?”

in an instant he crossed the distance to you, wiping the tears away once he assessed and evaluated that you were not hurt.

“uh— sorry. i should’ve asked you first. is this okay?” he quizzed, holding the sides of your face tenderly. you nodded, leaning into his touch.

“are these for me yoichi?” you looked into his cobalt blue eyes. one hand left your cheek, rubbing at the skin behind his neck, suddenly feeling shy.

“erm…yes. yes they are. i wasn’t expecting you back though, i was gonna surprise you tomorrow. ” he pulled you towards the sofa, sitting you down and looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.

“look y/n, i know materialism doesn’t take away what i did to you, but i want you to know just how sorry i am. you didn’t deserve how i treated you. not two weeks ago or months before. i made you feel lonely, i put football before you. when you needed me, i shut you out. and i take full accountability for that. words couldn’t describe just how badly i’m in love with you and how crazy you make me feel. i couldn’t bear to lose that forever. hell, these two weeks without you have tormented me enough. a lifetime without you would finish me off for good.”

you listened to him speak every word, touched that he would say such soothing words to you. yes, you did expect him to apologise, but not to go above and beyond to show his willingness to change.

your nose started flaring, the sting of your eyes warning that you were about to cry again.

feeling uncomfortable with your silence, isagi pressed you slightly.

“y/n? are you— are you oka-”

you cut him off by pouncing on him, engulfing him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like it was your last.

“i’m yours yoichi. always and forever.”

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

you woke up in the same hotel room you cried yourself to sleep in. throat dry, head pulsating and heart wounded. you needed some form of rejuvenation, but, considering you didn’t have any clothes on you, seemed hard to achieve.

you reached for your phone, shocked when you saw 20 missed calls and 46 messages from the very same person who caused you anguish in the first place. opening the message app you see the most recent messages being sent at around 5am.

“y/n, where are you?”

“y/n please answer the phone!”

“are you safe at least, i’m worried about you.”

“i just wanna know if you’re okay, we need to talk.”

“y/n?”

“y/n please, im starting to worry, just send me a text, or something. let me know you’re okay.”

although you were beyond pissed at the guy, he was concerned for your safety, and to make him worry for you like that shouldn’t have to be something anyone should experience.

you sent him a quick, straightforward response.

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”

the read receipt came as quickly as you sent it, a bubble popping up, signaling that reo was typing. however, after a few moments, it disappeared altogether, leaving your message standing alone.

you sighed, deciding that the least you could do was shower, feeling clammy and, simply put, dirty.

luckily, your job was well paying so you were able to book a lavish en-suite hotel room, although you didn’t pay attention to that much last night, willing to go just about anywhere as long as it weren’t near reo. inside the bathroom lay exquisite amenities, top branded shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, along with oils and different expensive face care products. an unopened toothbrush pack also was present on the bathroom counter, with toothpaste alongside it. and by the full glass shower itself stood a towel and robe on the hanging rack.

it weren’t exactly clothes, but it was a start. better than staying in your dress the whole day. while you waited for the shower water to warm you looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how dishevelled your figure was. your cheeks were tear stained, causing your mascara to run, your lips had smeared lipstick still present, and your hair? let’s not even go there. you looked a hot mess, physical evidence of your current mood.

once heated to a substantial temperature you stepped into the shower, revelling at how that warm water melted into your skin. you made good work of scrubbing down your skin, leaving no traces of any events that may have transpired the day before.

soon enough you finished up your shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel round your figure, feeling refreshed, but still incomplete. you brushed your teeth next, trying to avoid letting your thoughts go off topic from the current task at hand.

just as you were walking into the room itself to look for moisturiser, you heard a knock at the door. it confused you to the core. no one actually knew your whereabouts so you couldn’t rack your brain to guess who it could be. you ventured close to the door, looking through the peephole and visibly relaxing once you saw a hotel worker standing, waiting.

“hello?”

“ah, good morning miss y/n, i have a bag here requested to be brought to you.”

if you weren’t confused before, you were bewildered now. this meant that someone hand to have known where’d you were, but how? only one way to find out.

“requested by who, might i ask?”

“mr…mikage reo?”

what the actual hell. you were well and truly silenced by the revelation. more importantly, it’s quite amazing how he managed to find your location with such haste. although it shouldn’t really surprise you so much, considering he probably had connections due to his status. it made you wonder just what exactly he brought to you.

“erm ma’am?”

you cracked the door open, seeing one of reo’s duffel bags stuffed to the brim. the hotel worker held it out for you to take, bowing then turning to leave immediately after. you carried the heavy bag through the room, placing it on the ottoman at the end of the bed.

you stood for a second, debating whether you should open it or not. curiosity got the better of you though, and you unzipped the bag, stalling when you realised it was a bag of clothes for you, as well as the moisturiser you use, some makeup products and your favourite trainers. it’s like he somehow knew you would need clothes, probably since you didn’t return home last night.

taking the clothes from the bag you realised he packed you one of your favourite hoodies, his own hoodie.

after moisturising yourself you started to put the clothes on, feeling slightly better about yourself. you looked into your makeup bag, seeing some of your basic everyday skin and hair products, as well as your everyday perfume, feeling grateful that reo at least paid attention enough to know what you liked and used.

just as you had finished your skincare routine you heard another lock at the door, wondering who it could be at this time. you got up and crossed your way to the door, looking through the peephole and freezing.

your boyfriend, reo stood at the door, looking around nervously.

you gauged your options for a moment, reaching an ultimatum with yourself that you couldn’t avoid him forever. you opened the door fully, stepping to the side for him to walk in, which he did, stepping meticulously and with precaution, while you closed the door behind him.

all was silent for a moment, neither party knowing what to say to the other, a million thoughts rushing through the room. the tension was taut, the air thick, and awkwardness seeping in.

you collected yourself, deciding to start it off.

“thanks for the clothes, i appreciate it.”

“it’s…the least i could do, considering how i treated you.” he said, simultaneously biting down on his lip.

“yeah.”

he moved closer towards you, looking at your expression to see if he was crossing boundaries at any point.

“y/n.” you looked at him with apprehension, worried about what may fly out of his mouth next. “i want you to know that what happened last night, was entirely my fault. i need you to understand that.”

you frowned with sadness displayed on your face. yes he may be owning up to his actions, but that didn’t explain why he said what he said. especially if he could say something of that degree to you with such ease. it sounded like he meant every word.

becoming slightly anxious from your silence, he continued on.

“i made you it sound like you were inadequate or you were lower than me because i have money. i know it sounds bad, but y/n, it’s really the opposite. you don’t look at me for my background, you look at me for who i am as a person. you make me feel normal. make me feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t have to keep myself guarded around you and i appreciate you so much for it. i guess that’s why i spoke out of turn to you like that last night. because you’re probably the only person who can actually knock me down a peg. and having nagi hear that made me scared. scared because i was vulnerable in front of him. of course, i’m not excusing my actions, and i’m not asking for forgiveness, i just want you to know i’m sorry.”

you nodded slowly in understanding, looking at the way he subconsciously tugged on a piece of his violet tresses. he left his hair down today. you loved it when his hair was down. he knew that.

“i hear you reo, but that’s not the only issue. this whole problem stemmed from the fact that you spend too much time with nagi. i don’t wanna be the girlfriend that prohibits you from spending time with your friends, that’s not who i am, but when you’re with nagi so much that it makes you forget important dates, that’s when it becomes a problem. especially when you then make it out to be like i’m the problem. no one is saying you can’t be around him, but have a backbone please. he’s always there reo. sometimes i just want you to myself, is that too much to ask for?”

he realised where he went wrong, casting you aside for the sake of nagi, which wasn’t cool. and he didn’t want to lose you. you were too good to him and he felt so strongly about you. anything you asked for could never be too much, not to him.

and so, he stepped closer to you still, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, both for stabilisation and comfort.

“no baby, it’s never too much. not when it comes to you.”

you squeezed him tighter, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and smiling.

“i don’t like it when we fight reo, i love you too much for that.”

“i love you too y/n,” he placed you down gently on the bed, laying you back and caging you in with both arms, his hair hanging directly over your face. “so…we’re gonna go back home and i want you to pack your bags. we’re going to mykonos for the week to celebrate our anniversary together.”

you straightened up, wondering where this was all coming from.

“huh? reo, you’re forgetting something? you may be off season right now but i still have work.”

“not for the next two weeks, i pulled some strings so now you have paid time off, which, gives you more time with your favourite man.”

you chuckled at his revelation, knowing he definitely used his power to threaten your manager. reo could be so demanding at times.

“speaking of which, do you know where he is?” his face immediately darkened at that.

“wanna repeat that?”

“nope!”

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi was in a state. it had only been 4 days since you broke up with him, but that was 4 days too long for him. it wasn’t actually until you broke it off with him and it sunk in that you were gone, that it really registered for him.

he missed you.

it made him realise, as much as he hated being bothered…he didn’t mind if it were you. he really did enjoy spending time with you. especially when cuddling. your figure was so soft, a perfect cushion for him to lay on as he slept. you would play with his hair so gently, lulling him to sleep. and you were really pretty.

the apartment just seemed all the more empty without you. yes, he did live alone pre blue lock a few years back, but having you live with him made him get used to having someone around. he grew comfortable and accustomed to it. so much so that it felt lonely when you left.

you had temporarily went back to your parents house while you looked for a new place to live. you had a few items of miscellaneous clothing left behind in your room, but you had ran out, thus needing the majority of your stuff, which you had left back at nagi’s.

you left off, with the promise to your parents that you’d be back soon.

the engine hummed as you drove back, playing your playlist on a high volume, hoping to drown out the thoughts spiralling in your head, although it did little to silence them.

you didn’t plan a time to leave out, but realised that you had coincidentally headed out at the same time nagi would be home, a meeting inevitable. oh well. had to happen at some point. you planned on a quick and brisk pit stop, hoping to minimise interaction with him as much as possible.

you pulled up to the apartment complex, walking through the lobby, swiping your keycard and pressing the lift to go to the penthouse.

in no time you reached the top, the lift doors opening. you stepped out and pushed your key into the lock, opening the door as silently as you could, walking in and shutting it with a click.

yes, you may have been moving around like a teenager after a forbidden night out, but you would much rather that than have to be further insulted by nagi, should he catch you.

alas, things cannot always go smoothly in life, for nagi had heard you, stepping out of the bedroom, shirtless with loosely hanging shorts, evidently having just woken up from a nap.

he instantly stopped, rubbing his eyes to see if he was tweaking or not. yet, you stood there, trying to disappear in that moment.

“y/n…you’re here.”

“only to get my things nagi, i’ll be out of your hair in around half an hour.”

nagi. his own name turned his mood sour. he’d much rather you call him by his actual name, or sei, not his last. and you knew that fact very well, making sure he knew damn well you were serious.

you begun to hurriedly walk towards the bedroom, where he was standing by the door, attempting to walk past him as quickly as possible. he intervened however, stepping about halfway into the door so that you were now directly in front of him and couldn’t get past, unless you spoke to him.

“are you really leaving y/n?”

“it’s l/n to you nagi, and yes. you don’t get to say something like that to me and think we’ll be cool after. it’s fucked up.”

you turned so he couldn’t see you, tears beginning to form at the painful recollection of what occurred a few days ago. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else, for the fear of bursting into tears held you back.

“please don’t leave me y/n, i can do better, i promise. i regret what i said. really badly. i’m— i’m sorry.”

you knew that nagi didn’t like talking as it is (he referred to it as a hassle), so to have him trying to at least communicate with you did mean something. not enough to satiate you though.

“y/n?”

when you didn’t say anything back he lightly tugged your hand and turned you around, eyes widening once he saw tears streaming down your face.

he attempted to console you, wanting to pull you into a hug, but drawing back when you lightly pushed him off you.

“y/n- what’s wrong?”

“i can’t sei, i’m scared. scared you’ll grow bored of me. i don’t know if i’m bothering you or not and it kills me to think that you’d spend more time on games than with me. you basically told me i’m a hassle. how the hell else am i supposed to take that?”

your tears wouldn’t stop pouring down no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, sniffles loud and clear as day.

something unusual happened to nagi as he watched you cry your eyes out. he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards at your state. more so because he knew it was because of him. he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain. he didn’t want to see you like this, experiencing such distress.

he wrapped his arms around you, one hand shielding your head and pulling your face into his bare chest, where you sobbed some more, letting up all the feelings built up from days prior.

“you’re not a hassle y/n. i said that out of turn. you could never be a hassle to me. while you were gone, i couldn’t even play my games properly. i just slept and trained because i missed you so much and didn’t know what to do without you. i know i’m lazy, and i know i don’t make you feel loved enough, but i do. i love you. i’ll do better for you and i don’t wanna be the reason why you’re upset. so please stop crying, wanna see your pretty face smile for me.”

you smiled into his chest, your sniffles beginning to subside and still.

“thank you sei, i really needed to hear that.”

“i would say it over 100 times for you. it might take a while but i won’t get bored of it. not when it comes to you.”

you wrapped your arms around his broad figure, squeezing tightly.

“will you be my girlfriend again y/n? no one else can reach your level. not now, not ever.”

you let go of his body, instead placing your palms on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“of course i will seishiro.”

“good, because i wanna cuddle with my girlfriend.”

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

it had been 2 months since you broke up with barou and he was miserable. who would’ve thought you leaving would cause such a rift in his life? his performance in matches were shit, he became pissed off at people more easily, and he was benched more often.

due to him not having someone to talk to, he essentially had no form of a wind down from football, something you were able to give him while you were together. something he had come to miss, and wished he appreciated more.

the lack of your items in the house made your departure all the more apparent. your decorations and items around the apartment were what made the house a home.

and you as a person? what wasn’t to like about you? you were a very levelheaded but gentle person, a great contrast to his fiery, angry personality. you catered to his every need, be it mentally, physically or sexually. your voice was what carried him through his day, soothing him to the bone, calming him down when he needed it. the more he thought about it, the more he realised he made a grave mistake pushing you out. the more he realised just how much he was attached to you, he was just unwilling to acknowledge it.

barou was no pussy, and he had enough of living like this, living without you, so he decided to get you back (and not fuck up this time).

he knew you were most likely staying at your childhood friend, chigiri’s house. he knew him very well, having done the blue lock training program with him years back, and played against him in several matches. he knew where he lived, having gone to parties held at his house through mutual connections.

and so, after practice, he grabbed his car keys and set off. he weren’t good with words, so his mind stayed scrambled as he thought of all the things he could say to you. while he couldn’t think of specific sentences to say to you, his goal remained the same.

after some time passed, he pulled up to chigiri’s house, your car the only one on the drive, which meant that only you were home. he switched off the ignition, stepped out of the car and walked up to the door.

with slight hesitancy, he lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times. he listened for any shuffling inside, but heard none. after a moment he turned away to leave, thinking you might’ve not been there after all. it’s possible you might’ve been out with chigiri in his car. yeah, that was probably it.

however.

“what do you want barou? i thought i was ‘making your life too hard’?”

shit, you were home. your voice was muffled, due to you speaking through the door, having seen his figure through the peephole.

“i- i didn’t mean that. not that way.”

you opened the door, allowing him to see a crack of your figure, donned in shorts and a tank top.

“then how did you mean it barou? don’t take me for an idiot, because i’m not one. no one says anything of that depth if you didn’t feel that exact way before. so before you let anymore bullshit spout from your mouth tell me exactly how you meant it, in what context. because i’m tired barou, tired of being in a relationship where i feel like i’m treading on glass around you because you don’t wanna do certain things. it’s not a nice feeling. you may not feel that way, but i do. i’ve felt that way during our whole relationship, but i feel like i can’t tell you shit so i’ve kept. it. in.”

wow. he really didn’t see things from your perspective. once he heard it from you, he realised just how much of a dickhead he sounded like. he couldn’t say anything, how could he explain himself after that?

he didn’t.

and after hearing no refutation or explanation from barou, you simply let go of any hopes of talking this out with him.

“shouei,” his ears perked at you using his first name. “i think…you should go. i don’t wanna have any hard feelings between us but i don’t think we’re right for each other. please understand and respect tha-”

you stopped short of ending your sentence upon seeing barou turn and leave before he could hear you out, getting back into his car and preparing to drive off.

you sighed, shaking your head and closing the door, effectually ending your relationship for good.

he got what he wanted, right?

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

you woke up in the morning, immediately panning your vision to your left to see if rin had returned to bed. the bed imprints remained the exact same as you had left it when you fell asleep, which lead you to wonder if rin had even returned home.

you slid out of bed, your feet touching the cold wood floor, you trudged your way through the apartment, looking for signs of life, your shoulders falling in disappointment when you realised rin was nowhere to be seen. it was debatable if he even came home or not, the answer you would probably never find out.

you warred with yourself in your head about what to do. considering rin didn’t even try to talk to you to rectify the situation showed he didn’t really give a shit. if he didn’t come home, then he probably didn’t even know if you came home or not, which meant he isn’t worrying about you or where you were.

you weren’t a dickhead, and waiting for someone who evidently didn’t want you seemed like such a desperate action, which you weren’t trying to act like.

and so, calling a few willing friends, shedding some tears here and there, and half a day of hard work, you had effectively moved out of your shared apartment with rin, leaving a half completed home. he didn’t return home the whole day, not that you gave a shit anymore.

imagine rin’s surprise when he returned home from his team practice, expecting to see you moping around somewhere, but instead, nowhere to be found. as a matter of fact, where the fuck was your stuff? the apartment looked very much empty right now. he took at least 15 minutes to look around, analysing his surroundings, the same he would do during a game. any potted plants you bought for the house, specifically for the living room disappeared. your stupid candle ornaments that somehow made the house look better? not a ghost of a trace left behind. your clothes? gone. even from the laundry basket, only his clothes remained.

your products, your favourite sleeping pillow, even your toothbrush was gone. you left no stone unturned, questionable if you ever lived there in the first place.

still slightly puzzled but somewhat aware of the answer behind all of this, he pulled out his phone, clicking immediately on the message app. he sent you a message, heart dropping and suspicions confirmed when his message was not only green, but displayed a ‘not delivered’ message underneath. you had blocked him, and moved out without his knowledge.

he knew you were pissed off from what had transpired, but he didn’t know you would take action this soon. you didn’t even wait to talk to him for the love of god. this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he was only angry at you because he felt threatened in the moment. but, recalling just exactly what he said to you, maybe it was warranted.

maybe it was for the best. you barely had enough time together as it is, due to unmatchable schedules and rin always being abroad. he was never able to give you enough love. funny, considering he didn’t even make sure to tell you. looking back on it, he realised he was kind of a dickhead to you.

so, he let go of the relationship for good.

—

four months had passed. he’d gotten bigger as a football player after his team winning a multitude of matches had lead to him becoming their star player, constantly getting man of the match achievements. this lead to his popularity increasing, getting more fans and fame as a result. he had been abroad this whole time, focusing on his career.

oh. but don’t think he had escaped you.

he couldn’t get his mind off you.

you tormented his thoughts daily and nightly, his yearning for you and hate for himself flourishing simultaneously as he repeatedly recalled how he fucked up. he wished he could go back to that night, heeding your warnings.

either way, that couldn’t be achieved now, for he didn’t know your whereabouts. he hadn’t known since that night on the pitch.

he tried to move on the best he could, returning back to japan to visit his parents whilst he had time off from football.

it just so happened one day while he popped out to a grocery store to get ingredients for his mother, the he saw the back of a familiar head, whisking away to the next aisle over. piquing his curiosity, he immediately paced to see if it way really who he thought it was.

and yes, the face he thought he’d never see again, the very same person who had been frequenting his mind,

you.

“y/n!” you froze, not expecting to find him here of all places. last time you had seen on tv, he was abroad. he wasn’t supposed to be here. deciding you had to face the music at some point, you turned around, watching as his demeanour melted, at really seeing you again after so long.

“rin…hi.”

all was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other. what does one say in situations such as these? not to worry, rin answered for you.

“how…how’ve you been?”

“good thanks, how about you?”

“i’ve been— alright.”

silence settled again. rin wanted to voice so many things to you, starting with how he wanted you to know how he’s changed. how he’s calmed down in terms of training. how he’d make more time. he wanted you to know he’d do things differently, if you ever took him back. he wanted you to come home… but he didn’t know where to start.

he would have to at some point however, for you wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

“well…um, it was good seeing yo-”

“wait!” he interjected, panic settling in that you would disappear and he would never get the chance again. “i— i just wanted to tell you tha—”

“y/n baby, i’ve got the washing powder.”

baby? what the fuck?

he looked just past you to see a guy walking up to you, taking the basket from your hands with a peck to your cheek. you smiled at the action, lacing your hand in his hair as he took place behind you. he then noticed rin, standing there with visible shock on his face, confused on what he missed while he was gone.

“who’s this?”

“oh, just an old friend.” a bold faced lie. anyone with two functioning brain cells could feel the history between you two. “i’ve got my stuff so let’s go to the queue. nice seeing you rin…have a good day.” you walked off with your supposed new boyfriend. a boyfriend that wasn’t him.

have a good day? after you just shattered his heart like that?

his throat turned dry, awareness sinking in.

he wanted you to come home…but he was too late.

baby you sold me a dream pt.3

1K notes · View notes

santanasaintmendes · 2 months ago

Text

g’day mate how are ya?

Part7! to The Cosmic Girl Records!

summary: new year, new you, plus your new job! and the australian gp which also comes with a few difficulties when you have a big insta following and no pr training ollie bearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: just some random photos off pinterest, all credits go to the rightful owners of the images used below

warnings: swearing, insensitive jokes, mention of being held at gunpoint, if any of these are triggering please scroll away!!

a/n: finally got the motivation to make the 7th part to the cosmic girl records also reader is 2 days younger than Ollie! Also if u get tagged by accident IM SO SORRY i swear it’s not on purpose. Also Lewis is driving for mercedes with kimi in this universe, i should probably make a post about the grid for this universe, anyways enjoy!

liked by olliebearman, francocolapinto, landonorris, lilymhe, georgerussell64, charles_leclerc and 3,920,443 others

unfortunatelyy/n: new year, new me AANNND NEW JOB

tagged olliebearman

olliebearman: but NOT a new man, just to be clear

unfortunatelyy/n: hey there mr jealous wanna get off my insta page maybe

olliebearman: ☹️

landonorris: i feel like you say new year new me too often and nothing changes

unfortunatelyy/n: u know just how ruin everything 😔

landonorris: that is true but you don’t have to point it out‼️

user1: bro’s just accepting it at this point 😭

user2: SHE’S BACKKKK AND BETTERR THIS TIME

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

mercedesamgf1: can’t wait to see you in the garage this season 💪

unfortunatelyy/n: 💪💪

georgerussell64: Love? EWWWWWW

unfortunatelyy/n: such an anti romantic. i’m telling carmen

georgerussell64: no wait

unfortunatelyy/n: poor mr russell. screenshotted or you may know it - screen grabbing

unfortunatelyy/n: or at least that’s what old people call it

georgerussell64: you dare? you dare call ME OLD?

georgerussell64: HAVE U SEEN ALONSO (no offence mate)

fernandoalo_oficial: um offence taken?

unfortunatelyy/n: WOAH u cannot be going around roasting rookies like that george

user2: SHE KNOWS

user3: of course she knows, she’s probably the only on there that even knows how to properly use instagram

user4: the sad truth. sad but true.

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

unfortunatelyy/n: very true indeed

user5: i fear that y/n is the only one who’s chronically online 😔

unfortunatelyy/n: i am, it’s such a hard life when the others don’t get it the memes i show them 😔

unfortunatelyy/n: they’re just too old

olliebearman: it’s such a struggle fr

unfortunatelyy/n: you’re old too so shush

olliebearman: I’M 19??? 19 AND LITERALLY 2 DAYS OLDER THAN U

unfortunatelyy/n: poor ollie, when i was learning subtraction and addition you were already doing multiplication and division

olliebearman: i am so confused right now

liked by olliebearman, alex_albon, kimi.antonelli, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 4,920,228 others

unfortunatelyy/n: IT’S RACE WEEK + my boyfriend with his boyfriend

tagged olliebearman and kimi.antonelli

User1: uh y/n? i don’t think you can be saying stuff like that anymore

User5: i fear y/n will never be the same anymore, she is employed now 😔

user2: no filter y/n we love to see it

olliebearman: seriously?

unfortunatelyy/n: i’m such a comedian (i know ur giggling n shit) 🤭

olliebearman: I AM NOT

unfortunatelyy/n: woah so defensive and for what

mercedesamgf1: usually we only do pr training for our drivers but . . .

unfortunatelyy/n: good thing i’m not a driver then 😮‍💨

user3: SHE DID NOTTTT

kimi.antonelli: i’m gonna get you fired (can you send me the photo i want it printed out and on my dashboard for when i drive🙏)

unfortunatelyy/n: try me antonelli (yes ofc check ur dms)

olliebearman: NOW HANG ON JUST A MINUTE

unfortunatelyy/n: yes my love?

kimi.antonelli: yes my little sugarplum with caramel sauce?

olliebearman: 🤨

kimi.antonelli: 🫦

olliebearman: I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND

kimi.antonelli: and now a boyfriend

user4: i’m on kimi’s side. it’s not gay if it’s with the homies 🤷

olliebearman: @unfortunatelyy/n send for help 🙏

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, lilymhe, kimi.antonelli, arthur_leclerc and 4,294,339 others

unfortunatelyy/n: hanging out with my fav cutie patootie - oh hey ollie’s here too

tagged olliebearman and kimi.antonelli

landonorris: OOOOOHHHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥

unfortunatelyy/n: get out of here

landonorris: ok 😔

user1: wow she really has him at gunpoint

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

kimi.antonelli: you are also my favourite cutie patootie 🤗

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

olliebearman: just break up with me already😔

unfortunatelyy/n: well who would i annoy then

olliebearman: kimi 😒

unfortunatelyy/n: IT WAS A JOKE PLS COME HOME WITH THE ITALIAN FOOD

olliebearman: NO

unfortunatelyy/n: i’m calling the police

charles_leclerc: i would appreciate it if you would stop bullying my son

charles_leclerc: and calling the police on him

unfortunatelyy/n: not unless he brings the food back

olliebearman: fine. but only because i love you 😒

kimi.antonelli: and me too

olliebearman: STOP TRYING TO RUIN MY RELATIONSHIP

kimi.antonelli: no.

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, francocolapinto, lilymhe, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, pepemartiofficial and 3,849,928 others

unfortunatelyy/n: just a little reminder that the aussie waves are ALWAYS OUT FOR BLOOD

user1: my anxiety looking at that second pic: 📈📈📈📈

user2: my girl’s been traumatised by the aussie waves 😭

unfortunatelyy/n: she has indeed 😔

olliebearman: HAHAHAHAHHAHA

unfortunatelyy/n: i hope both sides of your pillow are warm tonight

olliebearman: GASP. how terrifyingly hilarious, still won’t beat you nearly drowning though

unfortunatelyy/n: I WAS NOT DROWNING

olliebearman: so you were just randomly yelling for help in the water while freaking out

unfortunatelyy/n: . . . i was testing your boyfriend reflexes

olliebearman: mhm sure

unfortunatelyy/n: okay the sass was unnecessary

olliebearman: 🙄💅

user5: they’re such couple goals i just feel single whenever i see their posts 😔

user6: kimi’s probably plotting his next sabotage

kimi.antonelli: 🤫

lilymhe: @unfortunatelyy/n ur so hot 😍

unfortunatelyy/n: you’re hotter 😍😍😍

alex_albon: not this again

alex_albon: i thought we moved on from this phase

unfortunatelyy/n: it’s not a phase honey, it’s a lifestyle

alex_albon: your lifestyle is stealing my girlfriend?

unfortunatelyy/n: yes 😄

alex_albon: *sigh

liked by landonorris, kimi.antonelli, lewishamilton, olliebearman, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 5,928,658 others

unfortunatelyy/n: FIRST DAY ON THE JOB WE GOT THIS💪💪

tagged lewishamilton and kimi.antonelli

user1: did lewis dirty 😭

user2: what is going on with ollie’s hair in the bg of the third pic 😭

unfortunatelyy/n: unfortunately it’s always like that

olliebearman: HEY

lewishamilton: DELETE THIS

unfortunatelyy/n: erm no

lewishamilton: i’m gonna fire you

unfortunatelyy/n: actually u can’t do that

lewishamilton: erm actually 🤓☝️

user3: WOAH i did not know lewis was chill like that 😭😭

unfortunatelyy/n: OKAY I’M TELLING TOTO

lewishamilton: DO IT I DARE YOU

unfortunatelyy/n: done. in less than 24 hours you will be an unemployed man

mercedesamgf1: y/n . . . we can’t fire our 7 world champion 😓

unfortunatelyy/n: DANG IT

mercedesamgf1: so about that pr training. . .

unfortunatelyy/n: GOTTA GO 🏃‍♀️💨

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, alex_albon, kimi.antonelli, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lilymhe and 11,759,390 others

unfortunatelyy/n: i know we’re enemies now but maybe i can be happy for u just this once 🫶

tagged olliebearman

olliebearman: ❤️

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

landonorris: yuckyyyyyy

unfortunatelyy/n: ur yuckier

landonorris: no you are

unfortunatelyy/n: nuh uh

landonorris: yuh huh

unfortunatelyy/n: SHUT UP

landonorris: NO

unfortunatelyy/n: i’m calling ur mom

landonorris: now hang on just a second

user1: y/n’s living that wattpadd engineer x driver life

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user2: HELP SHE LIKED THE COMMENT

oscarpiastri: congrats mate

unfortunatelyy/n: are you happy being back in your natural habitat

oscarpiastri: what.

a/n: thanks for reading! stay safe and have a good day!!

183 notes · View notes

atisunya · 4 months ago

Text

Why Do Certified Azure Managed Service Providers Stand Out?

Content Source: https://goli.breezio.com/article/6684278485776768408/why-do-certified-azure-managed-service-providers-stand-out

Microsoft solution partners or Azure Managed Service Providers are always first in line. They maximize business value using Azure Cloud and have excellent innovation potential. These service providers hold the right certification for data, AI, and app innovation. All these prove the vast expertise of these service providers in modernizing apps, creating cloud-native apps, data management and governance, and AI. Let us see all the potential these Azure cloud services possess that makes them stand out.

Top 5 reasons of hiring Azure Cloud service providers

Here are some of the key aspects that make Azure Managed service providers stand out.

Certified specialists

These service providers employ the best Azure Managed Services Experts who have undergone rigorous training and have successfully passed the exams conducted by Microsoft. This makes sure that the experts possess the right knowledge and skills to use and that they can efficiently manage the cloud infrastructure of Azure.

Reduces cost

A key driving force for a lot of companies to hire an Azure Managed service provider is to optimize cost. Azure facilitates Microsoft Business Central Implementation. This further helps to scale resources up and down according to their requirements. It makes sure that the clients need to only pay for the resources they put to use. This particular flexibility removes the requirement of costly investments in infrastructure and hardware. Also, it makes sure that the businesses can efficiently allocate their resources.

In-depth expertise

Azure cloud partners possess in-depth experience and knowledge in Microsoft Azure services. They have a thorough understanding of the potential of Azure and they exercise best practices to craft, launch, and manage complicated cloud infrastructures. They can meet the unique needs of every business. Also, the engineering team of Azure Managed service providers has access to Business Central Dynamics 365 and several other internal resources for more efficient operations.

Improved compliance and security

Privacy has become a crucial concern for businesses because of data security risks and the requirement of adherence to regulatory compliances. So, when you partner with an Azure service provider they can help you to address these problems. Microsoft offers a Trust Center online that offers detailed information about their compliance, privacy, and security initiatives. Also, Azure provides numerous services like Dynamics Business Central Integration, access and identity management, encryption, and firewall, to help their users create a secure infrastructure and track suspicious activities. All these things are offered by a certified Azure services partner.

Customer success

Certified Azure managed service providers having knowledge of Microsoft Dynamics 365 Business Central have a track record of strategic and powerful implementation of cloud solutions for multiple industries. It means that the customers can trust the expertise of the service providers. The clients can always expect secure, reliable, and top-notch cloud services that are validated and tested in the real world.

Conclusion

The Azure service providers can help enterprises improve their overall infrastructure productivity and performance by leveraging advanced automation, analytics, and tools. If you are looking for the best Azure managed service provider, get in touch with AtiSunya Private Limited as they have the best in-house professionals.

#azure managed service provider #dynamics 365 implementation #business central dynamics 365 #dashboard in a day training

0 notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 5 months ago

Note

Now I wonder what Kunsel has on everyone in Shinra. How is he able to blackmail even the Turks? (and not get a bullet to the head for attempting to?)

Kunsel's Blackmail List

• A video of Sephiroth pursuing a laser from a laser pointer, calmly but clearly intrigued.

• A photo of Zack playing online games on the computer in Lazard's office *note: he's wearing one of Lazard's suits.

• A video of Sephiroth putting sugar on his french fries in the mess hall and saying "Perhaps this will make me feel alive."

• A photo of Sephiroth and presumed-dead former Turk Vincent Valentine side by side, with a sticky note that just reads "hmm"

• A copy of Reno's special brownie recipe that he occasionally leaves in the Turks' break room. *note: it's weed.

• An audio of Genesis saying "Sometimes I feel like Loveless isn't that good."

• Evidence that Cloud Strife is a time traveler: Video of him "trying out" Angeal's Buster Sword. Cloud expertly slammed the sword onto a metal door and Angeal shrieked as if Cloud had harmed his first born child.

• A video of Zack arguing with a dog. The dog is seemingly winning the argument. One minute later Genesis also joins the argument.

• Evidence that Reeve and Cait Sith are the same person - an audio of Reeve going "Hojo can suggest turnin' injured soldiers intae guinea pigs an' the President's all for it, but if Ah were tae break Hojo's knees, Ah'd be in the wrong an' sent tae jail."

• Audio of a conversation between Sephiroth and Genesis where they discuss how to "hypothetically" fake their deaths and flee to a remote island away from civilization.

• Photos of Zack and Cloud that Angeal took. It's the classic prom pose. Zack has his arms around Cloud.

• A video of Angeal discreetly pouring alcohol into his morning coffee and going "don't worry, it's decaf"

• Security camera footage of Sephiroth taking an entire cake from the break room exactly one minute after it was placed there.

• Emails between Zack and Cloud where they're freaking out because Sephiroth still hasn't noticed that his sword is a replica, and they lost the real one.

• Evidence that Cloud Strife is a time traveler: The smoke detector went off in the lounge and Cloud immediately attacked Sephiroth.

• A receipt from Angeal where he purchased horse items: a saddle, reins, and feed. Curiously, Kunsel never found the horse.

• Security cam footage of Sephiroth walking, stopping in the middle of the hallway, shouting "FUCK!" and then proceeding as if nothing happened.

• Dashboard footage of Angeal teaching Zack how to drive, a chaotic twenty minutes of A: "YOU JUST RAN A RED LIGHT!" followed by Z: "I mean what's the difference between red and green, realistically?" and A: "PULL OVER YOU'RE COLOR BLIND"

• A video of Zack going into the men's bathroom empty-handed and then coming out with a popsicle.

• Evidence that Cloud Strife is a time traveler: video footage of Cloud showing up to Sephiroth's apartment unannounced with therapy pamphlets.

• Chat logs from the SOLDIER group chat the day they tried to hide evidence that they broke the training room from Lazard, with Sephiroth suggesting they all gaslight Lazard into believing the training room is fine and the fire has been there all along.

• Security camera footage of Zack dropping down from the vents, placing a photo of Cloud Strife on Sephiroth's office door, and then retreating back into the vents.

• A video of Zack walking into the break room, going over to the fridge, opening the door, and climbing inside. Motives unknown.

• Security camera footage of Sephiroth practicing his nunchucks maneuvers in an empty training room, accidentally hitting himself in the face, and then standing there as if he just got slapped by an invisible force.

• Evidence of a file on Angeal's computer labeled "things that make me happy." Kunsel expected pictures of his friends. Instead, there's just an image of the buster sword and a stock image of an air fryer.

• A photo of Genesis' drawer of theft™ in his office, which includes Zack's kazoo, Zack's harmonica, Zack's hand bell, Zack's rubber chicken, and Zack's autographed photo of Sephiroth.

• A selfie of Tseng with Rufus asleep at his desk in the background. Tseng is holding up a bottle of Nyquil.

• An email from Sephiroth to Hojo that he never sent. It describes in detail how he would love to use his face to sand concrete.

• A photo of Tseng and Rufus pushing Dark Star around in a baby stroller like they're parents.

• A family tree connecting the president, Lazard, Rufus, and Evan Townshend, with a sticky note that reads "introduce president Shinra to condoms"

• A poster on the back of Sephiroth's office door that's a giant picture of Angeal shirtless. When asked why he had it Sephiroth replied "I look at it whenever I need to find inner strength to continue with my day"

• A box of auburn hair dye found in Genesis' bathroom.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #ffvii crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #crisis core #kunsel ff7

300 notes · View notes

p0orbaby · 5 months ago

Text

Twenty To One

summary: the beginning of the end or a kick in the right direction?

warnings: weed

a/n: a little prequel to this

word count: 950

The engine idles as you wait outside the training grounds, the low hum blending with the muffled laughter and chatter from the backseat. The evening air is thick with the pungent scent of weed, your friends passing a joint around, eyes glazed and smiles lazy. You tap the steering wheel nervously, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Leah should be out any minute now. Your mind races, the usual confidence waning under the weight of her impending scrutiny.

Finally, the doors to the training facility swing open, and Leah emerges, her hair damp from the shower, sports bag slung over her shoulder. She spots your car and hesitates for a moment, her expression unreadable under the dim spillover of the floodlights. The pause is enough to send a pang of anxiety through you. You lean over and push the passenger door open, forcing a smile that feels as thin as the autumn air.

“Hey, babe,” you call out, trying to sound casual, but the slight quiver in your voice betrays you.

Leah’s eyes flick to the backseat, taking in the scene with concern and frustration etched upon her features. She climbs into the car, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary, the sound like a gavel in the silence.

“Who are these?” she asks, her voice tense as she glances back at the hooded figures now giggling at some private joke, oblivious to the tension they are causing.

“Just some friends,” you reply, pulling away from the curb, the tires crunching on the gravel. “Thought we’d drive you home”

Leah doesn’t respond, staring straight ahead as you navigate the familiar streets of the parish of London Colney. The tension in the car is palpable, the silence only broken by the occasional snicker or cough from the backseat. You feel a pang of guilt, knowing this isn’t the homecoming she deserves after a long day of training. Her shoulders are rigid, her jaw set, and you can feel the disappointment radiating off her in waves.

“You know,” Leah finally says, her voice low and steady, “this isn’t good for you. Or for me”

You sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter, the leather cool and smooth under your fingers. “I know, Leah. But it’s complicated.” The words sound hollow even to your own ears.

“Is it?” she shoots back, turning to look at you, her eyes sharp and probing. “Or are you just making excuses?”

You clench your jaw, the words stinging more than you cared to admit. Leah has always seen through your defenses, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. You can feel her eyes on you, searching for answers you aren’t ready to give. The air between you feels charged, like the moment before a storm breaks.

“I have my reasons,” you say, your voice clipped, a weak attempt at justifying the unjustifiable.

“Reasons?” Leah echoes, her tone incredulous, almost mocking. “Like what? Running around with dealers and users?”

You wince, the truth of her words hitting hard. You glance at the rearview mirror, catching sight of your friends, now slumped and dozing off, their faces a stark reminder of the path you were on. The car smells of smoke and regret, a stark contrast to the clean, fresh scent of Leah’s world. It felt like the gulf between you and Leah was widening with every passing second.

“I’m doing what I have to,” you mutter, more to yourself than to her, the words sounding more like a plea than a statement.

Leah’s eyes soften, her frustration giving way to something more like concern, a tender ache in her stare. “You don’t have to do this,” she said gently, her voice a balm on your frayed nerves. “There are other ways. Better ways”

You know she was right, but breaking free from the life you’d been sucked into wasn’t as simple as just walking away. There are debts, loyalties, and a twisted sense of belonging that keeps pulling you back in. The grip of it was like a vice, squeezing tighter with each passing day.

“I’m trying, Leah,” you say, your voice cracking slightly, the vulnerability seeping through despite your best efforts to hide it. “But it’s not easy”

Leah reaches out, placing a hand on your arm, her touch warm, familiar. “I know it’s not,” she says softly, her eyes holding yours with a fierce determination. “But you’re better than this. You have to be, for both of us”

Her touch is a lifeline, a reminder of what you stood to lose if you didn’t find a way out. You take a deep breath, the smell of weed still heavy in the air, and nod, a flicker of resolve igniting within you.

“Okay,” you whisper, more to convince yourself than anyone else. “I’ll try”

Leah gives your arm a reassuring squeeze before pulling back, her expression easing slightly. “That’s all I ask,” she says, her voice gentle yet firm, the strength of her conviction like a beacon in the dark.

The rest of the drive is silent, but the tension has eased slightly, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. When you finally pull up outside Leah’s flat, she turns to you, her eyes searching yours.

“I love you,” she says, firm but tender, each word imbued with a fierce sincerity. “But I can’t watch you destroy yourself”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders, a burden and a challenge. “I love you too,” you reply, the words feeling both a promise and a plea, a desperate attempt to hold onto something pure and good.

Leah leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Then prove it”

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

183 notes · View notes

pepperonidk · 5 days ago

Text

ii. the song's about to start (can you feel it?) || to.you

↳ "... i'm about to fall for you.''

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoox gn!Reader Summary: Creative constipation. That's what Wonwoo calls the feeling he gets when he realizes he wants to write about how he feels about you. What exactly does he feel about you? That's... inconclusive, he thinks. Warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing Songs Mentioned: partners in crime - finneas, (only) about love - grentperez, buzz - niki

A/N: I'll be releasing a new chapter every day until Christmas, as a gift. :)

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

⏮ previous track || back to playlist || next track ⏭

Mingyu is the worst person to have in the car when all you want to do is think.

The thought popped into Wonwoo’s mind as he swatted at a wandering hand reaching for the volume dial on his dashboard. A groan sounded from beside him and Wonwoo rolled his eyes in return. Mingyu was a regular in the front seat of his car, and to his dismay, felt much too comfortable touching everything he could on the dashboard. His chair was leaned back absurdly far and the vents on the air conditioning seemed pointed in every which direction.

“Wonwoo, I like this song,” he huffed as he reached forward to mess with the volume again. His drunken clumsy hands turned the dial much too far until Wonwoo adjusted it back to a reasonable level. With a sigh Wonwoo gave in and looked forward to his later drive home in silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel as Mingyu sang along. Croaked, more like. Mingyu had a melodic singing voice, but that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone hearing him right now. But Wonwoo was used to this, and although he pretended to be annoyed by it, he really didn’t mind. He liked this song too and he hummed along, quiet enough that Mingyu wouldn’t notice.

“You couldn’t look any more like a lover Or a partner in crime Or something of mine”

The song ended and Mingyu reached over to turn the volume down. Wonwoo was thankful, but realized if the radio volume went down, Mingyu’s would have an inverse effect. He looked over at Wonwoo whose eyes were trained on the dark and empty 3 a.m. freeway ahead of him.

“You know,” Mingyu began with a smirk in his voice and Wonwoo tensed, steeling himself for whatever nonsense would escape his friend’s lips. “Seungcheol said he saw you dragging Chan’s friend upstairs earlier.” Wonwoo’s hands grew tighter on the wheel and Mingyu didn’t miss the flush of red that appeared on his cheeks as Wonwoo remembered the brief feeling of your skin on his. He shifted his glasses higher up on his nose bridge. Mingyu’s laugh was grating, Wonwoo thought.

He chose not to say anything. A mistake, really, as now Mingyu, the yapper, had found an opportunity to fill in the blanks with his own speculations.

“Mr. Jeon, I never took you for the frat-party quickie type,” Mingyu continued, laughing to himself. “Especially not with people you write songs about.”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Mingyu cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Wasn’t Mingyu drunk? How was he this perceptive? Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Mingyu’s home.

“We were looking for those two other idiots that hang around Chan,” Wonwoo tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Mingyu finally relented. He waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Wonwoo thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Mingyu already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” Mingyu spoke again. The teasing lilt in his voice was soon replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Mingyu had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Mingyu leaned against the window, thinking to himself. “I’m not really sure myself,” he finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.”

The last time Wonwoo wrote a new song was when Joshua was still part of their band.

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Joshua asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Joshua seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His dark hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore pajama pants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Joshua clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Wonwoo was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a guitar before. So when it came time for them to talk, Wonwoo was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m moving,” Joshua blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Moving–”

Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo all spoke at once and Joshua let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Moving? Where?” Wonwoo asked again.

Joshua nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Joshua, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Joshua spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Wonwoo had only ever seen when he spoke about his partner.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Joshua continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Chan, a friend of Joshua’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end-of-year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns. It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive sophomore had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Joshua’s news, Wonwoo found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wonwoo,” Joshua called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Joshua looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Wonwoo supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Wonwoo asked vaguely, but Joshua knew what he meant, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Joshua replied with a faraway smile. Wonwoo looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Wonwoo nodded thoughtfully at Joshua’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.”

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Joshua spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Joshua glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Wonwoo answered. “Will you?”

Joshua turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Mingyu and Seungcheol were saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agreed. “Me too.”

When Wonwoo came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Joshua had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Joshua off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Wonwoo to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Joshua asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his friend. To Joshua.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Mingyu was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Mingyu recalled the lyrics to his song, snapping him out of his thoughts. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Wonwoo,” Mingyu cooed as he ran a hand through his hair and shifted to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Wonwoo have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Mingyu and driving back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive.

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Wonwoo was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Wonwoo thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name. His gaze was fixed on his lyrics notebook in front of him until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Wonwoo?” The tone in your voice surprised him. It was soft and laced with concern. “You okay? I’ve said your name like three times now.”

“Yeah,” he shook his head as he muttered quickly. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He watched as you gave him a kind smile, tilting your head. “I hate to break your concentration, but my usual seat has been… taken over.” He watched as you nodded your head towards the row in front where Soonyoung, who was hunched over his laptop, was completely oblivious to the girl in your seat who was leaning toward him with a hopeful, dazed grin. “We’re picking project partners today and I think she’s trying to get Soonyoung to pick her.”

Wonwoo scoffed at the scene in front of him. “She’s wasting her time. I’ve never seen him pay attention to anything in this class that wasn’t a Fortnite stream.”

“Harsh, but accurate,” you agreed with a chuckle. “So can I…?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he scrambled to move his backpack off the seat so you could settle into it. He watched you sit down and when you smiled at him he suddenly felt his cheeks heat up. He awkwardly tried to bring his gaze back to his notebook, not knowing what to say, but waiting for you to continue the conversation.

After a beat, you continued. “So,” you leaned in conspiratorially. “Think she’ll succeed?”

He thought for a second before answering, his lips twitching as he did. “Not unless she pays him in… Robucks.”

“V-Bucks,” you corrected him with a playful grin.

“Right,” he twirled his pen in his hand, as if needing something to fidget with. “That.”

You chuckled in amusement. “Well, if she steals Soonyoung, I’ll settle for Chan. We’ve been project partners since we were little, so I’m used to picking up his slack.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at you. “And if Chan gets taken?”

You simply shrugged as you smiled at him playfully. “Then I guess I’d be stuck with you.”

His pen slipped out of his fingers and he blinked at you, his glasses sliding down his nose. “Me?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you,” he blushed as you laughed at his surprise. “Unless you’ve already made plans?”

“I don’t know anyone else in class,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Neither do I,” you replied easily. “Looks like we’re a great match already.”

For a beat, Wonwoo caught himself just staring at you, unsure of what to say. The tips of his ears felt red hot, and he looked down at his notebook again, scribbling in the margins. “Sure, a good match,” he repeated.

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply?” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag.

Wonwoo paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Mingyu and Seungcheol had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Wonwoo’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Wonwoo found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Soonyoung and Chan when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Wonwoo answered honestly but still nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details.

He was aware of how vague his answer was, but this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Wonwoo recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical.

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Wonwoo’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Mingyu’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Seungcheol’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Chan, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Joshua’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Mingyu or Seungcheol or even Chan now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Wonwoo was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Wonwoo eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.”

Wonwoo could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Joshua’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into it madly. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Wonwoo, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Wonwoo spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Wonwoo turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Chan groaning as he looked over at Soonyoung. Soonyoung looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat, finally giving her attention. Unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Wonwoo was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Wonwoo watched you stifle a chuckle at the two in front of you and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note.

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Wonwoo’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down.

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Wonwoo was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Wonwoo reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Wonwoo was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Wonwoo sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner:

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Soonyoung and Chan to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at the frat party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Soonyoung, who Wonwoo watched get shot down by a girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Wonwoo thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Mingyu always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold.

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Wonwoo, are you free this evening?

Before Wonwoo could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Wonwoo scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Wonwoo: Sure Wonwoo: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Wonwoo felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Mingyu was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Wonwoo walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Hey Wonwoo,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Wonwoo cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Chan on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.”

Wonwoo felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Chan pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Wonwoo couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-”

“You’re rambling,” Wonwoo cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Wonwoo felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Wonwoo about how you’d met Chan, Seungkwan, and Hansol. How Seungkwan had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Hansol was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Chan, who was your next door neighbor (and the same age as you), had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Wonwoo told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He and Joshua had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Mingyu wanted to call themselves The Four-Eyes “because it’s funny. Because you wear glasses.” And when Wonwoo nearly pounced across the table, Seungcheol suggested The Cherry-pops which Wonwoo hated even more. It wasn’t until Joshua broke up the argument and shoved Mingyu back to his seat on the couch that Joshua decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Wonwoo had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Joshua’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Wonwoo remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously.

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Wonwoo nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Wonwoo’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Wonwoo thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Wonwoo probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Wownoo found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards… Not that this was a first date. Right?

Wonwoo: Hey Wonwoo: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow? Wonwoo had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

Like a phone toss when it’s risky but you hit send.

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Wonwoo: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Wonwoo looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Wonwoo didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

A/N: a fun fact about this chapter: Chan knows everyone's favorite drinks. It sounds sweet, but he learned it's an easy way to get on their good sides when he's late for practice.

Also I gave myself butterflies when writing this chapter hehe

74 notes · View notes

lalunanymph · 7 months ago

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BLACKMAIL KISS — h. ran

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a single night of rebellion against your husband, the mayor of Tokyo, in an underground Roppongi club, traps you right in Haitani Ran's web of blackmail and deceit—where every move you make could potentially be your last one.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a bonten!haitani ran miniseries inspired by hametsu no itte

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bonten timeline, fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is feminine coded (wears dresses, heels, makeup), heavy tones of cheating/infidelity, DARK CONTENT, blackmail, political drama, public play, b/d/s/m, collaring, b/allgags, d/addy kink, n/ipple play, s/quirting untouched, mentions of cigarettes, mentions of alcohol & drugs, e/dging training, tease and denial, o/rgasm control, body writing, d/ildos, throat training, petnames (princess, good girl, whore, slut), b/reathplay, s/pit kink, coercion, mentions of pregnancy, non-con recording, HEAVY TOPICS PROCEED WITH CAUTION

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bittersweet blackmail with this playlist

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── masterlist

#2: the way you bend, the way you break

“Have you ever been tied up before?” was how Ran Haitani greeted you the moment you stepped into the back of his Lamborghini.

His hired driver in the front was trained to tune out his superior’s words, focused on beating Roppongi’s 7PM traffic.

There was a red light blinking on the car’s dashboard, and you barely paid it any attention, too focused on restraining yourself from reaching over to choke Ran for asking such a perverted question.

He eyed you up and down in your billowing black trench coat and shades, a flimsy attempt to avoid the public’s recognition. But, you didn’t have to worry. Ran had made you walk down an empty promenade about 200 metres away where he was waiting for you, careful to idle away from Mayor Tsunake’s residence.

Your husband had no idea where you were headed to or who you were meeting tonight, only aware that you had a dinner to attend with another trophy wife. Without warning, Makko’s expression swam in your mind, your husband’s greying hair and deep wrinkles a contrast from this younger man before you with his bleached-lilac locks and fitted expensive suits.

As if he could sense your ruminations, Ran changed his tune. “Has your husband noticed anything unusual lately?”

You shook your head mutely. Last night flashed in your thoughts—Makko’s bigger body hovering over yours, thrusting deep into your slick pussy as you fought off the sensitivity from days of edging and denied releases. His thickset brows had knitted together, mouth falling open in a small ‘O’.

You were so lewd tonight, Makko had murmured, smoothing his palm down your belly after he was done fucking you, looking both bewildered and delighted. Your expressions, your sounds… it’s like you’ve never been touched before.

Swallowing hard, you peeled your eyes to your clenched fists on your lap. “Makko said I’ve been… more expressive lately.”

Ran slid one hand down your thigh, feeling the soft satin of your coat give way to his touch. You hardly reacted when he dragged the hem up, a smirk spreading across his handsome face when your bare thigh appeared like a fleshy delight. He didn’t have to hike up your coat’s skirt further to chance a peek at the dark triangle between your legs; his attention immediately on the plush fat of your thighs chafing together. Satisfied that you had followed his orders, Ran straightened the hem back in place, giving you back your modesty with a curt nod. The blood roared in your ears, and you almost didn’t hear his soft, prodding question.

“More expressive?” He reached for a cigarette in his breast pocket, lighting it up. Your nose crinkled from the smell of cheap tobacco, but you didn’t reprimand him for smoking in close proximity to you. Noticing your expression, Ran chuckled. “You don’t like the smoke, huh? Too low class for you?”

Just because you were being blackmailed by a Bonten executive didn’t mean you had to play nice with him or protect his ego.

“Cigarettes are filthy. I hate smokers.”

Ran hummed, absorbing your dignified profile. Your head was tilted at a haughty angle, your gaze resolutely on the road ahead; pretending to not pay attention to the man beside you. But, your efforts were futile—his citrus cologne and musk pierced your nose, you felt his body heat radiating even from your end of the seat. His steady breathing filled the silence and you tasted his cigarette smoke on the tip of your tongue.

“Fair,” he snorted, flicking the excess ash onto the car floor. “But, you still haven’t answered me about what your husband meant. I hate asking questions twice, Y/N.”

You trailed your eyes back down to your hands set primly on your lap. “I… felt repressed. Before.” For a woman who spent most of her marriage doing what her husband wanted in bed, it felt strange to voice out your innermost desires. “But now, I’m more open. I feel him better. I—” you struggled to elucidate your words. “—it’s almost as if I’m a new person he’s… sleeping with.”

Ran inhaled the cigarette down to its nub, putting it out against the car door and flicking the butt down to the floor. “You’re more free with him is what I understand. You’re more lewd and open for him because of your training. Denial is a strange thing like that—” his hand was back on your thigh, lifting the hem up. You flashed one, quick, panicked glance at the driver who had a prime view of you in the back seat.

The Bonten executive shook his head. “Dayo is trained to not say a word about my affairs unless he wants a bullet in the back of his head. Isn’t that right, Dayo-kun?”

“Yes, Sir,” the driver automatically retorted.

To you, Ran dipped his head closer, lips almost brushing your heated earlobe. “It’s okay to be lewd with me here, Y/N.” His hand reached further up your thigh, exposing your bare pussy to the cool, car air. “You don’t have to pretend with me, okay, my slut? Let’s see that pretty naked body. Pictures can’t compare to the real thing.”

With his hands on you, Ran stroked your thighs, parting your legs and dragging you onto his lap. Your gasp was swallowed by his mouth hungrily lapping at yours—it wasn’t a kiss as much as it was an attempt to devour you. His hair was stiff with pomade, but your fingers sank into them, tugging those purple locks with wild fervour.

A tongue tasting of tobacco and musk plunged past your mouth, running across your teeth, the rim of your lips; licking your YSL lipstick off, sliding back in when you gasped to play with the twitching pink muscle—leaving a plasticky aftertaste on your tastebuds.

Ran gripped your jaw in his steel grip, moving those intense stamps down your neck. After days of not feeling him, you were incredibly sensitive.

A-ah mhmh! Your moans reverberated around the car when he sucked a mark onto your pulse point, and against your better judgement, you cradled his face closer to your neck like a mother letting her child feed from her. Ran was greedy indeed, trailing those bruising kisses and nips down your neck. Feverishly hot and large hands pried the panels of your coat aside to show off your collarbones and shoulders.

The coat was barely hanging off your frame, your thighs wide and exposed, splayed on either side of his generous lap. Ran wasn’t a bulky man per say, but his height added a girth which made you feel dwarfed next to him in comparison.

Those ring-clad fingers sent chilly jolts that tasted of metal pinches when they roamed down your bare thighs. He touched you everywhere except the place where you were dripping for him the most, continuing to kiss down your neck and between your breasts to tease you.

“This coat is so thin,” he whispered against your skin. “I could tie a rope harness around you and your nipples would show up underneath this flimsy old thing.” He fingered the thin satin, smirking. “Should we test that theory out? After all, you didn’t answer my first question.”

His first question—?

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when you felt him shift you aside, reaching underneath his seat to remove a coil of ropes.

“W-wait,” your squeak of protest was quelled by one elegantly groomed brow raising in question. Your mouth clamped shut, and you eyed the red bindings with open trepidation.

“Remove your coat until your waist. You can keep the rest on.”

You dared not defy him. Ran’s voice was hard and cold—a hint of steel behind the civility. This was a man who had no qualms destroying your life if you let him. Slowly, like you were told a death sentence and were walking to the gallows, you shrugged off your coat, leaving the open panels at waist level while you tried to uncomfortably cross your legs together—hoping to not flash the poor driver whose eyes fell intermittently on your flushed face.

As if he did this every single day, Ran looped the first coil underneath your heaving breasts. He circled it around your torso, careful to move your hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get caught, and tightened it enough till you were gasping for breath. Taking the two ends, he curled it under your arms, taking them behind your back and tying them together. Your limbs effectively out of the way, he tugged the ends back underneath your rib cage, criss-crossing it over your shoulders to form a tight cage around your torso.

Finishing off a knot behind your neck, the excess rope slid against your bare body, and he took the other coil, this time intentionally grazing the entire length over your right nipple. He repeated the same movement on your left one, the sudden burn of rope on your most sensitive peaks leaving them throbbing and hard like little fleshy stones.

The outside world faded into a monotony, your entire attention stolen from the rope wounding in between your legs. Ran was quick to tie a knot, and before you could wrap your head around it, he had connected the length of rope with the one binding your hands together.

You were effectively caught in his trap with nowhere to go; red diamonds patterning across your entire torso and belly. Every breath you inhaled felt like you were trying to strain your breath past a sieve, your entire body rigidly straight and tingling. Your breathing came out shallow—your mind going dangerously blank. You felt his lips under your ear, his hands massaging your hips.

“I won’t hurt you, trust me,” he crooned, hypnotising you with his smooth baritone. “You look so pretty with my ropes on. I think we should go for a walk.” As he spoke, he straightened your coat lapels, tightening them back to your front to cover up his jute masterpiece. Once he fixed your hem and slid his own coat over your shoulders, no one could tell you were all tied up for him under two layers of warmth.

“A walk,” you whispered, your ears ringing. “W-where?”

As if he had planned this entire scene down to the last minute detail, Ran tapped on the driver’s shoulder, signalling for him to stop. You looked out past the heavily tinted windows, finding a stretch of beach greeting you. It was empty, but you spotted a few families dotting the shores, and suddenly felt lightheaded.

“R-Ran—I-I can’t—”

“Ssh,” he rubbed your shoulder, surprisingly tender in his reassurances. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

You were far away from the city, close to the beach, with a dangerous man who had the power to humiliate you with one single flick of his wrist. He had re-tied your coat sloppily and loosely, probably on purpose to hammer in how vulnerable you were without him beside you.

Ran wisely didn’t say another word as he helped you out of the car, his hands steady on the small of your back. The first thing you noticed was the chill—your nipples instantly stiffened, but the cold wasn’t the only reason why. You had barely noticed the knot above your clit—too caught up with your own nakedness underneath the coat to notice how it rubbed against you with every step you took.

“S-shit…” your soft whimper drew his smirk.

Ran led you by the elbow, turning back to nod at the driver who obediently stationed his ostentatious Lambo by the curb. The day was pleasantly chilly, and it would’ve been the perfect time for a walk if you weren’t dying from every step.

“Fuck…” The knot moved no matter how mincing your walk was; everything you tried to alleviate the firm tension right on your aching clit was useless. Your thighs were burning, your breaths coming out in heated pants. You were sure you were going to pass out, your brain going fuzzy.

“Hey, stay with me,” Ran’s low voice beside you caught your attention. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, and he drew you to his side. He was wearing a pair of large Versace shades, covering those teasing purple eyes lingering on your flaming face. “Do you need a hand?”

Laughing at your mutinous glare, you would’ve kneed him in the nuts if it wasn’t for the crotch rope digging up your folds. Your arms were starting to tremble in their locked position, and you swore every breath you took felt like you were struggling to inhale through molasses. Your lungs were fighting to inhale a deeper breath, and the mild choking sensation wrapped entirely around your body was making you feel like you were floating on air.

It’s too tight, you stumbled a little and Ran caught you. I feel like I’m completely trapped.

It didn’t help that you were wearing heels, your steps wobbling on the pavement. A woman was approaching hand-in-hand with an older man, and she locked eyes with you.

Panic slithered down your spine—your nipples were fully pressing against the thin coat, and you were limping to avoid squeezing your thighs in front of her. You saw it on her face, that single look of concern and confusion. Hot shame tore through you, and you thought you would cry out if it wasn’t for Ran tightening his hold on you, that easy smile never slipping off his handsome face.

Struggling to mimic his grin, you fought off the urge to squeeze your thighs in front of the poor, unsuspecting couple, nodding uncomfortably when they passed by you. Ran’s arm was a warm weight, offering you both support and the pretence of a loving boyfriend in front of these innocent strangers when you knew otherwise.

The steel grip. The tightening fingers on your shoulder. He was holding you tightly in his reins; keeping you from dissolving. His control over you never wavered, not for a split second.

“How do you feel?” Ran spoke close to your ear. You couldn’t help the shiver from his warm breath touching your neck, struggling to find the right word which encapsulated your tense emotions.

“Restrained,” you whispered back, unable to look him in the eye. You trailed your gaze to the brilliant blue sea, hunching your shoulders closer to your chest to keep your hard nipples semi-hidden. Anyone who saw you would assume you were curling inwardly from the cold.

Ran tsked and nudged your lower back, reminding you to stand straight and tall. You reluctantly walked with your chest pressed out, the light coat covering your entire body feeling like a flimsy see-through cloth.

Almost everyone who walked past you stared at your pinched expression in open curiosity. You felt like the entire world held a spotlight under your clothes—that they could tell a naked, tied-up and submissive woman was fighting off the cresting pleasure right under their noses.

“Ran, please,” you whimpered, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your neck. You had both been walking for the past ten minutes, and the pavement continued stretching ahead with no end in sight. “I-I can’t anymore.” You were breathing heavily, forehead and chest covered with a light sheen of sweat. Ran made you stop in mid-stride, and you set your foot down with a quiet whimper.

The closest sensation you could describe burning through you was as if your entire body was sore from struggling in towering heels all day.

You didn’t know what was worse—the pain of constantly being in motion or the agony of coming to a halt to fully feel the throbbing ache crashing into you.

You shifted from one foot to another, but nothing you did could stop that pesky knot from rubbing your clit.

Ran had tied it tightly, making sure it was stimulating you even when you moved your weight.

“Do you want to sit down?”

The thought of bending and struggling to perch yourself on a bench while the rope continued to rub and stretch across your pulsing clit almost made you cry.

“Please,” you nearly sobbed. “I-I can’t take it anymore. It b-burns.”

Ran slipped his arm around your waist, and drew you closer to him—letting you sag against his side, like how a boyfriend would let his tired girlfriend rest on him. You closed your watery eyes, fighting to keep calm.

“Good girl,” Ran whispered, rubbing your back, your shoulders in broad daylight. Your brain was in a constant humming state of panic and arousal, you almost forgot you were in public before releasing a hushed, unsteady moan. “Fuck,” he chuckled, and the smell of his citrus cologne under your cheek was driving you quietly insane. “I think we need to head back. You’re a few strokes away from cumming and I can’t have that.”

The agony resumed again, this time nearly consuming you as you traced your way back to his car. Ran was patient with your mincing steps, and you were sure your palms were bleeding from how hard your nails dug into them.

One, two, three—you tried to count your breaths, casting your eyes towards the ocean to take your mind off the strain in between your thighs and the bondage around your arms.

The car loomed in the distance, and you were so grateful you actually cried out softly when the driver stepped out to open the door for you. Ran made sure to watch your head as you tumbled into the backseat, sprawled on the luscious cushions as he climbed in after you.

“Drive,” Ran murmured tersely the second the driver returned back to his front seat. “Back home, Dayo-kun.”

“Yes, Sir,” the young man retorted, tipping his head and putting the car in motion. You sank back into the seats, releasing a groan of relief, tilting your hips up so the knot loosened its pressure on your throbbing clit. Ran took his coat off your shoulders, and unwound the twist in front of your body.

Your roped torso appeared, your nipples hard enough to cut through steel. Ran played with the right one for a bit, rolling it between his long fingers and tugging. He exhaled a laugh through his nose when you squeaked, taken back by the sudden strike of sensitivity. You pinned your watery eyes to Dayo in the front, who was pleasantly driving like there wasn’t a woman teased and tied behind the car.

Tattooed and ring-clad fingers played with your other rock hard nipple, cruelly pinching them to elicit your mewls, your hips ticking uncontrollably.

“So sensitive,” Ran whispered, smoothing one large palm down your sternum. His other hand was still busy stimulating your blushing bud—twisting, pinching and tugging it until you swore you felt every pang of pleasure deep in your cervix.

“Ran,” you gasped, your body lurching forward to escape from the almost painful arousal. “S-stop—”

“Take it,” he murmured, tone barely fazed. “I think you can hold out longer than that.”

Stuffing your lower lip between your teeth, you keened, arching your back deeper into his arms, thrusting your breasts further up for him to play with.

Bastard, bastard, bastard. You thought back to the couple who looked at you with polite concern, the older woman who turned her head the second you passed by her. Their stares. Their parted mouths. The question flashing in their eyes. Like they knew you were tied up—like they had known you were cresting on the edge of the strongest orgasm in your life.

Something wet slid down your thighs, and you gasped, prying your eyes open in time to find a small stream leaking out to drip down the carpeted floors. “Ran—”

He noticed your body betraying you, too, and growled, “That’s fucking right, baby—squirt for me.” Ran didn’t stop pinching your nipples, rolling them harshly between his calloused fingers. “Make a mess in my car, you little whore. Show the world who owns you—show Daddy how good this slutty pussy is for him.”

“A-Ah—!” Shamelessly, your back bowed, your thighs clenching together, but nothing could staunch the flow dripping down your legs; the well of shame finally overflowing.

What is happening to me?

Panic soused through your entire body, your thoughts going haywire.

Fuck am I pissing in a car? I’m too old to piss in a car. Am I squirting? Oh God, Dayo can smell me. I’m squirting in the car. In public. I’m squirting—

“R-Ran!” you cried out, shaking the tinted windows with the decibels of your scream; your thighs fell open, hips pathetically pulsing in the air. Circling around. Trying to find a cock to sink down on. But, Ran didn’t even give you his fingers, greedily milking your nipples—flicking them, pinching them hard enough until they throbbed. They were fully distended, so sharp and pointy you could see them from a mile away.

Everything in front of you went blurry—the roads, sky and sea melting into a melange of colours.

“R-Ran…” You sagged back into his chest, eyes sliding close in both exhaustion and surrender. The wetness trickled down to your ankles, staining your coat. His fingers ceased tugging on your poor, abused nipples, running down the dips of your hips instead.

“Good girl.” He hummed into your hair, “Good fucking girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Despite yourself—all of your reservations—your chest glowed warmly at his praise, your poor tits throbbing like dying embers. You felt your limbs loosened to your side, and the ropes melting to the floor. Strong arms gathered you closer to his chest, his face pressed into your neck, rocking you side to side like you were a child coming down from a tantrum.

“Good girl. Did so well for me. I knew you could do it—I knew a slut like you had it in her. I’m so proud of you.”

Your torture didn’t end there.

Ran had driven you to one of his many penthouses around Tokyo, letting you grip onto his bicep as he led you up the elevator to his home. The doors opened to a grand decorated living room, gilded with expensive furniture and topped with an ivory piano in the middle of the cavernous space. You barely had time to admire the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Akasuka bay before he was dragging you into the bedroom.

A large king-sized deck in silky white sheets immediately caught your eye. The second thing were the mirrors installed on the ceilings. On the walls, you noticed notches, and on the ceilings above were eye hooks which you found out what they meant the second he told you to strip and stand near the bed.

Ran removed a coil of jute rope from underneath his bed, and you didn’t fight him off this time when he started to tie you up. Worn out from your bizarre release, your limbs were jelly when he lifted your arms overhead, securing them to a lowered hook. Tilting your head up, you noticed a double of your worried stare reflected back to you.

“You still scared?” He hummed, taking the ends of the jute coil and tucking it under your thighs. With a single tug, your right leg lifted off the ground, leaving you wobbling on your unsteady left one.

“Ugh—” You staunched a low groan, refusing to admit how much the sight of your own bound body in the mirrors above was turning you on beyond belief. The orgasm you experienced in his car left you completely unsatisfied, your hips ticking whenever he so much as grazed your pelvis.

You needed more; you wanted more from Haitani Ran.

“I took some pictures of you, y’know,” Ran commented breezily, curling the rope around your heaving breasts, flicking your left nipple playfully as an afterthought. “The little dash camera beside Dayo-kun. I’m sure you noticed it.”

Dimly, the recollection of a red blinking light came to mind. “N-no…”

It was no use protesting. Ran chuckled like he hadn’t committed a violation against you, straightening up to stare you down the line of his angular nose. “You should know better than to underestimate me, Mrs. Tsunake. I always keep a track record wherever I go.”

Once more red ropes kept you tethered to this sick game he was playing with you.

Ran hummed, taking one step back.

The rope harness was back around your torso, your arms tied overhead with the same devilish red coils. This time, your right leg was fastened to your waist, leaving your flushed folds and clit out in the vulnerable open. His bed yawned like a white mouth behind you, and from the windows stretching ahead, the city looked up at this lewd spectacle, twinkling lights like the tiniest flashes of cameras catching your flushed expression.

Your chest heaved, nipples circling, and you suddenly felt too exposed to the world. Anyone could peek past these windows at your bound form; someone could take a photo and send it right to your husband.

“It’s missing something.”

Ran tapped a slim, manicured finger to his chin, and hummed. Disappearing from your view, you struggled to listen after his footsteps, the blood pounding in your veins.

What more did he have up in store for you?

He had already made you squirt without even putting his cock inside of you. He had already made you walk naked with nothing but ropes under your coat in front of innocent strangers. The flashing red light on the dashcam had probably taken multiple photos of you spilling all down your thighs like an untrained animal.

You had nothing left to give him—you were wrought dry. Ran had reached inside of you and scooped up your deepest shame, weaponizing your own pleasure to ensure your downfall if you ever decide to come clean to Makko.

He was disgusting; the scum of the earth.

Those soft footfalls returned, and you were halfway turning around when you felt his hand on your neck.

“I have a gift for you.”

A gift? Before you could verbalise your question, you felt a stiff circle around your neck. Ran moved your hair to the side, fastening it with one click. Then, he tilted your head up, where you caught your own bewildered gaze in the reflective mirrors above, in time to watch him slot a red ball in between your teeth. He strapped it tight enough to smush your cheeks, leaving your mouth uncomfortably stuffed with the taste of rubber.

“Mmh—!”

“Relax,” he cooed. “Do you know what this is?” He didn’t wait for you to answer, chuckling deeply. “It’s a ball gag. Feels strange, right? Like your jaw is stretched wide open. No one will ever hear you scream.”

Fear flashed deep in your core, making you flinch away from him. “Mhm!”

You could barely form words behind the gag, every plea coming out garbled and twisted.

Ran laughed again, his handsome face barely fazed in the reflection of the window. “I’m kidding. Told you I’m not gonna hurt you… not too much, at least.”

He let the threat hang in the air, and left you alone to stew in your thoughts—your body swaying slightly in your bonds. You feared making any sudden moves; if your left leg accidentally gave way or you bent forward too much, you could pull your right hamstring—balanced as you were in such a precarious state.

Chewing on the rubber ball gag in frustration, you eyed your bound body through narrowed eyes. The strip around your neck looked to be made out of leather, and there was something written on it. You struggled to decipher the kanji, and when you finally made it out, you felt like you could’ve burst into an inferno of shame.

Slutty hole for use.

Tears pricked in your eyes, and you flexed your arms overhead, bringing more attention to your heaving tits. Ran, as if he had sensed your distress, returned back, now dressed down in a pair of black sweatpants, half of his dragon tattoo out in the open; pomade-free locks naturally hanging loose around his face.

“Do you like your collar? I had it custom made for you. It’s a gift.” As he spoke, he crept a hand on your waist, kneading your hip. Ran took one look at your sour expression and had to laugh. “Oh, don’t look so angry. At least I didn’t call you a ‘worthless fuckbitch’ didn’t I? I have more class than that, and you are an elegant woman, Y/N. I think ‘slutty hole for use’ suits you, don’t you think?”

You turned your face away, chest heaving in angry shudders.

“Hey—look at me.”

Try as hard as you wanted to defy him, your body’s sudden instinct was to listen to everything he said. You dared to look him in the eye, and if the ball gag weren’t lodged in your mouth, you would’ve worn a twisted glare. Those lilac eyes went soft around the edges, his smirk holding just a twinge of satisfaction from your instant compliance.

“Good girl. You’ve been so good lately, huh? Any more good and I would have to let you cum.”

Your heartbeat tripled in speed, and without a single shred of control, you let slip a soft moan.

“Yeah?” Ran grinned, both hands now on your body, roaming up your back, gliding over your shoulder blades. Every single careless touch left behind a trail of shivers. “I bet you’d like that, huh? How long has it been since you last came—two weeks ago? That paltry squirting in my car barely covered the itch, huh?”

Without a second thought, you nodded. Your brain was filled with cotton, every defence you had left in your arsenal stripped away to leave you broken and vulnerable. Ran descended on your helplessness like a predator to a crippled prey, his grin more knives than teeth. His mouth touched the juncture of your neck, inhaling your perfume like a starved man.

Your eyes rippled closed, and you let out a shaky mewl, feeling his grin grow against your sensitive strip of skin.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured, nuzzling his face deeper into your neck. “So pretty. Bet you’d cum so nicely for me.”

Large, warm hands caressed your hips, stopping just short of your mound. Brushing his fingers through the soft, downy hair, Ran’s ghost of a chuckle filled your heated ears. “I was wondering how’d this pretty pussy look tattooed with my name.” He smirked, as if the idea itself was downright depraved and enticing. “Why don’t we find out?”

He left your side for the third time tonight, and your soft whine of protest was met with another sardonic laugh. “I’ll be back, slut.” You tongued the rubber ball gag trying to push it out of your mouth, but it was in vain. You twisted in your ropes, shifted your hips, and despite knowing how desperate you looked right now humping the air, you couldn’t help it.

The ropes, the gag, his words… they were piling onto your already taut patience, stoking the heat of desire deep in your lower belly till you felt like you could cry out in frustration. As it was, tears beaded in your lash line, and you tried to wiggle out of the ropes, but barely moved an inch.

“Getting impatient?”

Ran returned, and he held what looked like a pen in his hands. Except when he uncapped it, the familiar scent of dry erase marker wafted straight to your nose, filling you with trepidation. Without another word, Ran got down onto one knee, at eye-level with your pussy. “So pretty,” he cupped your mound, middle finger dangerously close to your clenching hole. You watched, as if in a trance, as he pressed the marker to your pelvis.

Slowly, Kanji started to appear on your skin, the colour contrasting vividly against your tone to stand out in sharp attention.

Ran Haitani’s slut. Needy bitch. Cum in here (with an arrow pointed straight down to your now leaking pussy). On your inner thighs—’lick me’ and ‘bite me’ were playfully written onto your skin.

Your lover (fuck—you didn’t think you would ever refer to a Bonten yakuza executive with such an intimate title), stood back up, his smirk widening at your chagrined expression. The ink itched on your skin as it dried, and he didn’t wait for the words to literally sink in when he moved the marker’s nub to your breasts.

On the plush fat, he painstakingly wrote a number of degrading words you had trouble deciphering through the window’s reflection. But, once their meaning was uncovered, you made a little sound of dissent in the back of your throat.

Whore. Slut. Cumhole. Ran Haitani’s stress reliever. Property of Ran Haitani.

Ran. Ran. You were his—all of his.

I belong to him now, your woozy mind procured. Ran was making his mark on you—literally and figuratively. He was treating you like the scum under his shoe while pushing the biggest orgasm of your life onto your bound, willing body.

It was fucking insane how much it turned you on; to be tied up with such care while a litter of derogatory words blemished your skin. Your brain was slipping into a blissed out, white space—no thoughts existed between a single need to cum, cum, cum.

Ran took one look at you, at the hazy look in your eyes and smiled knowingly. He tossed the marker aside, unbuckling the ball gag, letting you flex your jaw. “I’ll be back,” he murmured, and left you to stew in your humiliation.

I’ve never felt this way before, your eyes slipped closed, breaths coming out in laboured pants past your aching mouth. I have never been this aroused in my life. This feeling was wrong; it was borderline abhorrent. You should be screaming for help, trying to punch the living daylights out of Haitani with your free leg. Not sway from side to side, biting on your lower lip while you tried to staunch the pressing need growing heavier and stronger in between your exposed thighs.

While in the throes of your deepest self-loathing, Ran came back, and you squeaked in surprise at the sheer size of the flesh-toned dildo he held in his grasp. The fucking thing looked entirely too realistic—veins running down the entire length, with a girthy base. Unbidden, your pussy throbbed, but unfortunately, it wasn’t where Ran was planning to use it on you.

“Open up,” he murmured silkily. A strong hand clamped around your neck, and your lips parted on instinct. The taste of silicone invaded your mouth, dripping into the back of your throat. Your gurgled moans resounded throughout the room, drawing a sadistic grin on his placid features. Ran fucked your throat with the dildo, coming close enough to make you gag, but he always pulled back when you started to struggle.

Tears smarted in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. Your mouth bulged with the weight of the plastic cock, cheeks hallowed and trying your best to deepthroat it. But, you could tell Ran wasn’t impressed.

“Is that the best you can do?” He arched a brow, gazing at you quizzically. “I’m disappointed, Y/N. Your performance is abysmal.”

You were about to spew a colourful insult at him when he stuffed the thick cock back down your throat, easing it up and down your gullet.

“I know you can do better than this,” he cooed, eyeing a trickle of saliva dripping down your chin. He pried the dildo from your mouth, silvery strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to the plastic tip as you gasped and sputtered.

“Ra—unhg.” You choked back on your words as he slid the dildo back into your mouth, shallowly thrusting it from the end of your throat right to the parting of your lips.

“You should see yourself,” Ran whispered, leaning close enough that you could feel his body heat seeping into every inch of your bare skin. “Wearing my collar, decorated in such pretty words, sucking on a thick cock. You’re the very picture of a well-used whore, Y/N.” You dolefully hollowed your cheeks, fighting back the urge to jerk your head back violently and accidentally hurt yourself.

“In fact, I think I need to take a picture of you—hold that for me, will you?” Ran left the dildo dangling from your mouth, and you bit down on it hard to keep the toy from tumbling to the ground in a mess of spit and more of Ran’s disappointment.

With his phone in hand, Ran recorded you, flashlight searing through your eyes as he plucked the dildo out from your mouth. His camera trailed down from your head to toe, starting from your desperate expression, down to the filthy words smeared on your skin and then to your glistening pussy dripping obscenely onto the tiles. He stuffed the fake cock back into your mouth, the camera lens like an obtrusive third eye witnessing your defilement.

The flashlight burned as it trailed onto the eager curve of your mouth taking the dildo down your throat like a good girl. Everytime you gagged, all Ran did was coo softly at you, telling you to breathe in deeply before plundering the well-soaked toy back down your throat. Your body was completely on fire, singing straight from the tips of your hair down to your curling toes.

Every thrust bruised the back of your throat, and you wondered if you could even speak after this.

“Good girl, take this like a champ,” Ran praised, cradling your right breast in one hand, thumb gently circling your stiff nipple. “I should give you my cock after this. It’s longer than this toy. You might hurt yourself.”

The mere thought of Ran’s cock—the abstract idea of him fucking you in any way or form—made your back arch and nipples hard enough to chew. For all of the humiliating things he had done to you, Ran hadn’t yet stuffed his length into either your pussy and mouth.

Why? You thought as you licked the dildo from base to tip, trying to imagine it was his cock. Why would he go through all these lengths only to not give me what I truly want?

You wanted this. You wanted Ran to put his foot right into his smug bastard mouth and fuck you so hard and good, you’d be ruined for your husband. Those thoughts alone were enough to make you clench down on thin air, wishing you had something buried deep into your pussy so you could get yourself off quickly.

“I can see your hips moving,” he observed quietly, eyeing your tight nipples. “And those perky tits—fuck, you’re really getting off to this, huh?”

You gurgled your assent.

“Most women would cry in your position—trust me, I’ve had them do that to me. But, you’re just enjoying every single second. You really are sick in the head—you like being treated like a fucktoy, don’t you?”

Ran pulled the spit-soaked dildo from your mouth, smiling cruelly when you gasped at the sudden loss of cock down your throat, your whines both pitiful and impure.

“Say it,” he mumbled, dangling the toy in front of you like a literal schoolyard bully. “Say: ‘I love being treated like a fucktoy, Daddy’.”

To humiliate you was one thing, but to have you parrot it back to him was downright debasing. You felt your insides pathetically pulse, craving whatever contact Ran was willing to give you—even if it was entirely undignified and injured your ego.

You licked your lips, biting down on the plump lower one as you tried to find the courage to muster up the words. Those lilac eyes seemed to taunt you, glassy and prodding as if saying—are you brave enough to even try?

“I… I love…” you faltered, throat bobbing in nerves. The camera was still pointed at you. Heaving in a breath, you pinned your watery eyes onto the bright light, blinking like a literal doe caught in headlights. “I love being treated like a fucktoy, Daddy.”

If it was even possible, his smile turned even crueller. “Good girl.” Switching off the camera, your entire body sagged forward the second the harsh light was out of your face. Dark spots played around your vision, and you almost missed his featherlight touch on your clit.

Tap, tap, tap. With every deliberate light slap on your swollen nub with his index and middle fingers, Ran made your entire body jolt. You cried out, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back.

“Feels good, huh?” He murmured, spreading his hand across your bare belly, never ceasing his callous slaps onto your poor, denied cunt. “You poor, poor thing. So eager and desperate to cum. Daddy’s been so mean to you, huh? That even slapping this cute little pussy has got you all desperate and needy. Aww.”

“R-Ran—” you choked when he increased the speed and impact, the wet sounds of flesh hitting flesh loud in the electrifying quiet. Your watery eyes pinned onto your reflection—as much as you tried to ignore your crushing need, it seeped through with increasing urgency.

You bit on your lip to focus on not cumming without his permission—but Ran was making it entirely impossible not to.

Every stinging slap went straight to your core, jolting you, turning you delirious. You were close enough that your walls started to spasm, your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“Ran—!”

As if understanding your predicament, he laughed. “Cumming already? Gonna spill all over my hand? I haven’t even fucked you yet. You’re so impatient.”

Every breath you took felt like drops of dew in your lungs, condensing right in front of your parted mouth, each gasp more fervent than the last.

“Ran, Ran, I-I can’t—” you choked off when he clamped one hand around your throat, tipping your head back. His lips hovered over yours, and instead of kissing you like you thought he would, his throat bobbed, and a globe of spit trickled from his open mouth into yours.

You swallowed him down desperately, messily. Opening your mouth for more. And Ran gave it to you.

More trickles of spit flooded your mouth, and his tongue teasingly rimmed your lower lip, making you whine and fester even more in your unending agony. His fingers were now slowly rubbing your clit, focused on edging out your release. You were so close, you felt like you could spontaneously combust.

Swallowing another wad of saliva, your parched body twisted this way and that, aching to find relief or escape from his steady circles on your clit.

“Ran—”

He kissed you this time, sensual and deep, tongue curling with yours, lips tasting of bourbon and sin.

It was enough to completely break your entire resolve.

Every pore in your body tensed, mind going blank with one singular primal instinct rearing through.

Like he could sense your impending release, the slow circles on your clit ceased—your entire world crashing down as the coveted orgasm he stoked for close to two hours dissipated, leaving a gnawing itch in your entire body.

“I think that’s enough for today,” he murmured decisively, unclasping his hand from your throat.

Ran didn’t say a word as you gathered your thoughts, though he did shoot a few meaningful glances at your crushed expression. Ultimately, you couldn’t find your voice, too caught up in the denial trampling all your hopes to form a single coherent thought.

You were livid, sad and disappointed all rolled in one, but if there was one thing you couldn’t refute?

How every single cell in your body unceasingly—unwaveringly—hungered for more of his touch.

Back home, you barely responded to the maids who bowed as you passed them, focused on cleaning up before Makko got back from the office.

You stumbled into the bathroom, hyper aware of the words still written on your body, feeling them branded into your skin. Shrugging off your coat, you were mortified to find those degrading names still latched onto your body, unable to be washed off even with soap and a loofah. With the sleeves of your coat hanging off your arms, you scrubbed at your body, frustrated to find the words barely feathering away.

After minutes of scrubbing until your arms were hurting, you gave up, tipping your head back with a resigned sigh. Once the panic had ebbed away, you decided with grim finality to not let Makko take a look at your naked body until all the words were washed away—which was a feat considering how erratic your husband’s libido could be.

Shuddering at the mental image of his shocked expression when he found another man’s name deep on your body, you shrugged the coat back on, but not before skimming your fingers lightly over some of the words.

The Kanji neatly spelled out your unwilling bond with Ran Haitani, the derogatory actions he committed onto you earlier today flashing through your mind. Your pussy went slick again, the sick moments edging the heat inside of you back into a simpering flame.

Ran’s tongue in your mouth. The scent of dry erase as it appeared on your skin. His fingers on your clit. How tight the ropes felt around your body; how he curved his bigger build around you protectively as you were all tied up and vulnerable for him.

Instinctively, you touched your mound, inching your fingers in between your drenched seam. Finding your clit, you tapped on the swollen bud, feeling the same shocks Ran’s fingers gave you coursing through your body for the second time today. But, it was different from his touch—Ran was rougher. Coarser.

He loved to touch you like he wanted to destroy you.

Your own fingers could never—would never—suffice. As much as it tore you up on the inside, you needed him. You needed Ran to touch you, tease you. It was etched into the bone-deep desire in your deprived body.

Only Ran Haitani could quench this crippling desire coursing through your entire veins.

Only he could put out the fire he started first.

And you were the poor soul hungering for every bit of his heat, yearning to feel his warmth again at the expense of your complete destruction.

“Where are you heading out to?”

Makko’s voice shocked you from your motions of putting on your sunglasses.

The entire mansion was empty today, the maids given a rare time off to celebrate this public holiday. Offices were shut down, and almost every minister took this opportunity to indulge their wives’ whims of flying out to Hokkaido for spa retreats—taking this moment of sparse freedom to rejuvenate their minds and bodies before another arduous week of political campaigning began.

Almost everyone, except for your workaholic husband who refused to entertain the thought of leaving his home office.

So, when Ran had texted you, telling you to come over to his penthouse with nothing but your coat on, who were you to resist the alluring thought of a few moments in pleasurable torture?

You flashed him a sweet smile, nodding towards the door.

“Just running some errands. I’ll be back soon.”

Your husband was a robust man, standing close to 6 feet. His grey speckled hair and stern eyes had once completely enthralled you when you were a young woman still new to the marriage game. But, after years of sticking by his side, feeling stifled to hide the truest version of yourself, you needed a breather.

You needed a brief respite to reveal another side of you which only a certain Bonten executive had seen.

Makko’s brow furrowed, and his lips turned down into a frown. “I thought we were supposed to visit my mom today?”

Shit. You had completely forgotten about your promise to accompany him to Azabu to meet up with your equally snide mother-in-law and Makko’s sister. Plastering on a regretful look, you felt the shards of guilt scrape your bruised conscience.

Ran had to understand. He would know your marriage came first and not this shitty game he was playing with you.

Bowing your head, you exhaled deeply. “Of course. I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ll go get changed and we can visit oka-san today. Just let me cancel my appointment.”

Makko’s lower lip twitched, and he spared you an inscrutable look.

“You’re getting more forgetful lately. And you seem more tired. Is something the matter?”

Without waiting for you to speak, Makko approached you, his large palms spreading out on your hips. Your husband pulled you closer by the waist, and for a split second, you panicked, thinking he would loosen your coat and pull it down only to find that you were already naked underneath it.

The words Ran had written on your body days ago had already faded after numerous rounds of rigorous scrubbing while your husband was at work. But, the guilt and shame still persisted.

You still felt the indelible stain on your skin—tasted the silicone of an impossibly large cock down your throat when you swallowed back on your remorse. Makko was a good man—despite his stolid nature and strict ways, and you didn’t want to hurt him.

His bushy lip grazed your ear, breathing in your perfume.

“Or, are you finally pregnant, my love?”

You felt a jolt go through your entire body at his suggestion. Laughing uneasily, you pried his hands off your waist, fixing him with what you hoped was a sweet, disarming smile. “I would never do anything without your knowledge first, darling, you know that. I’m not pregnant so you have nothing to worry about.”

Makko breathed out deeply, his eyes softening. “Good. I don’t think a baby would be right for us now, yeah? I know my PA said the family man angle would work, but I’m worried about what this means for future campaigns. I can’t run for office fully if I have you at home with a child.”

A child. Not even my baby. Your husband’s callousness would always take you aback, but after years together, you weren’t caught off guard anymore.

Your smile was brittle, as thin as tissue. “I understand. Let me change, and follow you out. We can’t keep your oka-san waiting for us.”

Usually, whenever Rindou appeared at his doorstep, it could only mean two things.

One, he had unfinished business with Bonten that his little brother wanted to talk over.

Or, two—he was in deep, deep shit.

From the look etched in Rindou’s somnolent eyes, Ran guessed it was the latter. Resigning himself to an afternoon of boredom after his favourite toy was busy entertaining her husband’s whims, Ran didn’t anticipate his little brother’s arrival to perk him up.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure, Rin?” Ran’s voice was even, smooth. But, underneath it was a layer of curiosity waiting to be unearthed.

Dressed down in some grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, Rindou tracked his older brother’s face, the purse of his mouth looking off with his usual blase attitude. “Mikey’s orders. Can I come in?”

Ran cocked one lilac brow, but stepped aside for his only brother to enter. “Mikey? He’s not gonna make you lodge a bullet in my brain, right?”

In answer, Rindou shrugged, further agitating Ran. “Depends. Do you have a lighter?”

Tossing Rin his vintage S.T. Dupont, Ran sauntered over to his velvet couch, draping himself on it. Rindou fumbled with a white stick, lighting it up and joining his nii-san on the couch opposite of him.

“Mikey heard something and wanted me to check with you,” Rin murmured past the smoke pouring from his mouth.

Ran laced his fingers together over his crossed knee, tilting his head to one side. “Well? Get it over with. Does he think I’m a traitor or sum’n?”

Truthfully, Ran anticipated Rindou would at least roll his eyes or crack a smile. Not look at his older brother with something like grim curiosity in those similarly hued purple orbs.

“He heard rumours. Of you and the mayor’s wife. Someone saw you two down in Roppongi together. Are you seeing some poli-tick’s missus? You know better than that, nii-chan.”

Rindou was completely serious, his mouth set in a hard frown. How did Ran know? It’s been years since his younger brother called him ‘nii-chan’ and to hear that honorific dripping from Rin’s mouth made Ran feel an iota of shame.

But, instead of admitting to his faults, the older Haitani brother slapped on a grin.

“Give me a second.”

Tapping into his phone, Ran looked like he was casually sending a message. Not a minute to spare later, his text tone went off—confirming Rindou’s suspicion—and a smug smile graced the older man’s lips.

Without giving Rin any context, Ran held out his phone, showing his younger brother an impressive set of tits taken by a woman in front of a fancy, gilded mirror. The seductress in question who had sent his brother that racy picture had great collarbones—dainty and poised even as the sleeves of her modest, silk dress were hanging off her arms. Strangely enough, her face was cut out of the picture, leaving the younger Haitani curious as to who this was.

The smooth, stretch of bare skin topped with perky, suckable nipples, made something in Rindou’s lower gut twitch, but he focused his half-mast eyes to his brother who set his phone down, a bastard grin lighting his expression.

“I’m blackmailing her,” Ran started to explain. “Stupid bitch came to my club trying to make a drug deal with some small fish. I got the photos. She was drunk enough to cream on my fingers so I got those vids, too. And now she does everything I ask of her. With absolutely no hesitation. If she doesn’t, those videos and photos go straight to the mayor’s office. Impressive, right?”

Rindou sat back, blinking rapidly. The cigarette clamped between two fingers was dripping ash onto the ground, neglected by the man who was completely stupified by what his brother had just said.

“So, let me get this straight,” Rindou pieced it together in a slow drawl. “You’re fucking the mayor’s wife, and blackmailing her at the same time? But, what power does she have?”

Ran shrugged, his eyes drifting shut for a split second before they fluttered open. “I don’t know the extent, but let’s find out. I mean, raids have been popping up near our turf lately, and if she can sway Tsunake to focus on Black Dragon territory instead, we might get away free. Also,” Ran added, “I’m not fucking her. She’s my denial slave. Fucking gets off to me being mean to her—you should come by once in awhile when I have her all tied up and dripping. Bet she’d love it.”

Rindou snorted, stubbing out his barely touched cigarette and lighting up another. Pulling in a deep inhale, he puffed out his next callous words with barely any conscious thought. “Mina will fucking kill me. I’m not a manwhore like you, Ran. One woman’s plenty enough of a handful for me.”

At the mention of Rin’s fiancee, Ran shook his head. “So typical of you to be whipped for the first woman who lets you cum all over her face. I guess I raised you wrong.”

“You raised me right,” Rindou countered, running a hand through his fluffy, purple cut. “Mina wants to meet my family. Says it’s about time she claps her eyes on your fugly mug. But, I told her you’re a private guy.”

Ran hummed, stealing one cig from Rindou’s stash on the table. “She’s right,” he spoke through the smoke. “I am incognito. Don’t need any more women throwing themselves at me.”

“Ha fucking ha. I’ll kill you if you ever touch her.”

The older Haitani exhaled a genuine laugh. “Is that how you knew you were in love with her?”

Though the conversation had taken an unexpected turn, Ran knew his brother well enough to sense that any mention of his precious Mina would get his mouth running. Rindou was just whipped like that.

“Nah. Knew I fucked up the moment I looked at her and felt all warm and gooey without riding the high of a nut. Love hits you harder than a motherfucker, Ran. You’ll know when you know.”

Though Ran doubted he would ever look at a woman and feel light-headed unless his balls were thoroughly drained by her, the idea was entertaining enough to consider.

“I want you to meet her one day. Mrs. Tsunake. Maybe if she knew Bonten was real, we could get a bigger deal out of her blackmail.”

Rindou considered it. “Fine. Call me up the next time she’s here. But, she can’t see me or hear me. I don’t want Mina to find out.”

“Deal. Also, you can’t fuck her. My rules. I want my cock to be the first thing she cums on after we hit the one month on her denial training.”

“Denial training? But, what about the husband? You sure she ain’t sneaking around a good nut with him?”

Ran was absolutely confident when he shook his head. “Nah. I would know. Besides, no woman who acts like a bitch in heat the second I touch her would be breaking my rules. Give me more credit—I know how to leash them well.”

At the mention of his brother’s… deeper proclivities… Rindou sighed.

“Fine. What do you want me to tell Mikey, though? He’s waiting for my answer.”

Ran deliberated for a second, flicking more ash onto the mahogany coffee table.

“Tell him this, and tell him this exactly, Rindou—’You don’t have to worry about her, boss. I’ve got it under control. Sumida territory will be ours by next Sunday. You have my fucking word.’”

a/n: ran leash me challenge i would say thank you <3

#🦢 writes #ran x reader #ran smut #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #bonten #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #series: blackmail kiss

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