#and he finds this rich-blond guy with an attitude and so he manipulates him while preying on the grief on his dead grandma.

[maelstrom-of-emotions]

So you ever just begin to explain your story and realize how unhinged you sound? And it makes the five-hundred-and-sixty-one slides you created for your ‘Why I Don't Need Therapy’ PowerPoint presentation crumble into mere ash and bone. Yeah, me too.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: filthy rich [3/3]  Pairing: millionaire!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mystery, major angst ahead, thriller, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: Just run, Y/N. Don’t look back.

Warnings: dark and yandere themes, toxic relationships, mentions of violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, smoll breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, mentions of abortion, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard 

Notes: 

Im disappering again for a week or two so as a parting gift, here ya go, im starting a bokuto fanfic soon and posting the reboot of notice me soon too hnnng thanks for the wait guys uwu

A sorta realistic take on a yandere is harder than it looks kssjdn omg anyways here yall go the long awaited last chapter of filthy rich. I’m not sure if I should put like a one shot sequel but so far im marking this series completed. Thanks for sticking by!

previous || series masterlist || blood son [sequel;one shot]

You run your hands through your hair and shut your eyes tight, the quietness and stillness of your shared apartment was something to bask on before you put on a fake mask of happiness. It had been exactly two months since you found out about the birth control switch and the medaide agenda. 

In the span of those two months, you had grown more observant towards your boyfriend’s actions and you knew that it wouldn’t be anytime soon until he actually notices that you were onto him. 

You let out a shaky breath as you recollected some weird things you’ve seem to have noticed, how his brows would furrow when he’d receive a call indicating that something was up and it was serious or how you visited your ex-boss one time a week or so ago along with Kenjiro since you wanted to see how he was doing.

“...Well, he just didn’t come home and sold the place. Apparently he was in a rush to move or something because of family matters so I didn’t exactly see him.” the neighbor gossiped to you two.

“Y/N?”

You jump on your spot as you hear that dreadfully familiar voice.

“Hey,” You greet, walking up to him, you decide to do your usual hug but stop when you notice a small red stain on his necktie, the tie is dark blue and although it wasn’t obvious from afar, it definitely was up close. Your brows are furrowed together, this time in pure curiosity, “Did you get hurt? It’s unlike you to get messy.”

You notice the quick shift of attitude in his eyes, you were seemingly getting good at observing his emotions these days and it looked like he panicked for a second there.

Odd.

“A friend of mine had gotten hurt a while ago, you remember Atsumu Miya?”

A vivid image of a blonde man crossed your mind, he was another conglomerate friend of your boyfriend, another person to be weary of to add to the list, “Oh, is he alright?” you asked, trying to keep it casual as you untie his tie for him as usual.

“Yes. He’s awfully clumsy. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh…” You mumbled, “by the way, I visited my ex-chief.”

“Ex-chief?”

“Mhm.” you hummed, “You know, my boss from before? Me and a few co-workers decided to visit him since he was a really good boss. Turns out he just left without telling anyone, poor man.”

“Sounds unpleasant. Did you know why he quit?”

“No.” You shrugged as you take the tie out and place it on the side, “He suddenly just quit his job and moved, neighbors said it was also because of family matters. It’s kinda weird because as far as we knew, he didn’t have a family.”

“Would you like me to look into it?”

You almost stiffen when he slithers his arms on your waist but you didn’t want to give away any suspicion, “No. I don’t want to pry. Hopefully he’s enjoying his retirement.” You sighed, turning towards him with a tight smile, “Now what would you like for dinner? I was thinking Mediterranean? I need to lose some weight since I’ve been feeling bloated for a while.”

He leans in for a soft kiss on your temple, “Mediterranean would be fine. Would you like anything else? We could order more.” he hummed, his lips slowly started to dangerously hover on top of yours.

“No, it’s fine.” You give him a quick peck and wiggle your way out of his arms, your stomach doesn’t feel well these days. Whenever you were near Sakusa you had the urge to throw up your innards despite having an empty stomach.

You don’t notice the dangerous gaze on your behind as you pick up the phone for your take-out.

Sakusa hasn’t felt you in a long time and it’s driving him insane, he wants to feel your heat, your body, and everything in between. He wants to fill you up and see you pregnant with his children. He wants everyone in the world to know you were his and his only.

Yet he can’t do that.

You’ve ignored his affections these past few weeks and it had been driving him insane to the point where he had to ask one of his men to put an eye on you to see if you had been cheating on him or seeing someone else.

Yet you hadn’t.

Your routine was the same old one and Sakusa is digging his nails deeply into his skin in his office one day with his tie uncharacteristically untied. Miya Atsumu sits across him, taking a sip from his flask, “Ya look like shit.” the blonde points out.

“Fuck off, Miya.”

“Heard from your cousin that you’re not getting laid by your girl these days.”

“You better be thankful that you’ve got men behind you or I’d be shooting your fucking brains out for saying that.” Sakusa spats, his dark gaze pointedly looking at the blonde across him.

“You should just find someone else then and not yer prude of a-”

“Keep telling me ideas like that and maybe I might just shoot you and chop your body up until it looks fuckin’ unrecognizable.”

Atsumu raises his hands up, signaling that he was giving up, “Gee, omi-omi. I was just giving my advise. It’s so easy to drop her.”

“I don’t want to drop what’s mine.”

“You’ve got issues.” He chuckles, “Haven’t you been switching out her pills and fucking her raw for the last couple of months? I bet yer ass you got her pregnant on that before but ya just don’t know it. Getting her pregnant would definitely secure her spot in her life. Woman’s nuthin’ without ya.”

“She’s...she’s not showing…”

“When was the last time ya two went at it?”

“Two months ago.”

“Ya poor boy.” Atsumu sighs, shaking his head, “Ya sure you don’t want to take a break from being a loyal boyfriend for one night? i bet Y/N wouldn’t notice.”

“And no one would notice if you fucking disappeared. I’ll make sure of it, now get out.”

You may not have been the sharpest tool on the shed but you know that someone’s been tailing you these past few days, you’re not stupid. You could only come to the conclusion that it was Sakusa who was doing such things but you couldn’t get why.

Something just didn’t make sense. It felt like you were missing an important piece in the puzzle, med-aide and the switch of your pills and now a hidden tail?

You furrow your brows together in deep thought  as you sat down next to a teenage boy on his phone, you decided to take the bus today to the grocery store, surprisingly the one tailing you wasn’t around today.

Your eyes slowly shift towards the boy’s phone, it seemed like he was playing a video game.

An otome game, to be exact.

You felt your lips twitch up, you remembered those games a lot growing up. The graphics seem to have massively improved now by the looks of it, “...That looks interesting.” You tell the teenage boy who turns to you in surprise.

“Oh, thanks.” the blonde replied quietly.

“Is that a new otome game?”

“Kind of.” He blinks, his gaze returning back to the screen,  “It’s sort of a remake of the yandere simulator from back then.”

You feel your shoulders tense up.

“A yandere?”

“Yeah.” The blonde nods, “The girl’s awfully creepy in the game, she stalks him, does things to get him. The player has to catch her in the act and evade her at the same time.”

“Oh…” You blink, “I-uh, this is weird… but what’s a yandere again?’

“It’s someone obsessively in love with you. They’ll do anything to have you stay by them.” He says, pushing on a button but suddenly the screen turns red and you feel shivers run down your spine as you hear him curse and the words ‘you’re caught’ appear on the screen.

“W-what happened to your character?”

“He died. Nothing much.” he mumbles, “If the Yandere knows they can’t have you, they’ll kill you.”

You immediately went pale as soon as you heard that. Maybe, just maybe you were being paranoid. He wouldn’t go to that extent, would he?

“How did your character escape the yandere in the game?” 

“Well, I haven’t finished the game yet but based on some anime’s and manga’s I've usually read. They either killed to get away or they moved so far away where they wouldn’t be seen so I think the creator might have the same ending.” The blonde said, he slowly looked to your side, “You’re looking awfully pale, ma’am. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, j-just remembered a horrible game I played back when I was your age.” You gulped in, “Nightmares, you know? The yandere tried to get my character pregnant and tried to get in her way of moving out of the country.”

“Sounds like a very realistic one.”  He mumbles, “What did your character do?”

“I wasn’t able to finish it.” you whispered, loud enough for him to only hear, “I couldn’t really find a way out.”

“The developers of the game must’ve made it hard for you. Maybe your character should’ve ran away,” he advised, “Or better yet, you should’ve killed him.”

“I-well, I don't think there were options like that.”

“Well if I were you and there was no option for killing, I’d run. Far, far away. Change my identity and all that.” he exits the game and stuffs the phone back in his pocket, you get a good look of his cat-like eyes and immediately feel a shiver on your spine with the next words he say, “I mean its a game but you wouldn’t wanna loose and get your character killed, right?”

“R-right.”

The teenage boy hops down without even saying goodbye and you have a scary realization that you can’t break it off like you originally had planned. You needed to run, run far as you can and get lost.

The words that the teenage boy says echoes in your head for the next few days, from that point on, realization dawns upon you that, nothing is certain now. You couldn’t trust anyone, you couldn’t let friends and family be involved in this. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a powerful man so you needed to be careful with how you were going to disappear.

You continue to act nonchalant and the same as you try to lay out your plan but you knew that you had only a week or so to complete this for it to successfully work.

Sakusa Kiyoomi wonders what he should do to save the relationship, he’s tried everything in the book that he could think of but you remained the same. Was this the end of the relationship? For real?

He could never stomach the idea of having you leave him.

It’s eerie that day, something felt different when he came home to an empty apartment. It looked the same yet something felt very, very different. Apparently the apartment guards said you were here since your car hadn’t left the driveway and they hadn’t seen you go out.

He checks out your side of the closet, your clothes remain there untouched and your toiletries were there too. He scans the fridge for your notes but nothing is stuck there. He suddenly feels like something cold was dumped on him.

It couldn’t be, right?

Right?

He runs to every room, checking every nook and cranny and when he finally reaches the last room which was the bathroom, nothing is there.

Everything was in its place except you.

Where were you?

Your bank account remains untouched, your wallet and phone was left in the apartment. It was as if you were returning home, the very least. Komori tells him to calm down, saying that they’re letting the best people find you around the city, they don’t rule out that someone might’ve had the audacity to touch you.

Whoever took you would be given hell to pay, that’s for sure. Was it the triad? Kkangpae’s? Or opposing yakuza’s? Oh, they’ll definitely have their heads on the platter if they tried to harm a single hair on your head.

Sakusa doesn’t even hesitate to notify the police about you already despite the memorandum that twenty-four hours is needed to consider a person missing, it's nothing a little money can fix.

“I hope we find her soon.” Your aunt sighed, “I’ve notified her parents about it. It’s definitely weird that she’d leave all her valuables behind.”

Hinata and Natsu sit there next to their mom, completely sad and worried, “I’ve hired the best people for it already, obaasan. We’ll find Y/N.” Sakusa replies yet his thoughts are in a complete frenzy now.

And find you they did.

No stone was left unturned. He made sure of it. Yet after a month of relentless searching. Nothing came up, it seemed like you had just vanished and Sakusa Kiyoomi had turned the whole underground world upside down for you but nothing came up.

Some say that you disappeared and ran away but that was immediately ruled out, no security cameras saw you in and out during that day and it would be impossible for you to just leave without security cameras on you. The guard had exclaimed that despite the blackout that day, the generators only took a few minutes to power up so they’d definitely catch you on camera in case you ever exited the building (along with the guards since they knew exactly what you looked liked) plus the clothes and such were still there, left untouched.

Some said you died, it was definitely impossible for you to just vanish without a single trace after all since everyone was looking for you.

Yet no one dared to say it in front of the boss, not if they valued their life.

The billionaire had dried out his connections to find you. What good was it to be the most powerful and richest man in the country if he couldn’t find you? Life had no meaning now, you were gone. It felt like a part of him was ceasing to function.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a dead man walking now.

Unknown to the whole world, you’re in a small town with little to no signal. Your hair is chopped unevenly and your skin is darker from the repeated exposure under the sun, your life is simple and mundane now yet you’re happy.

For the first time in months, you actually felt free.

You shut your eyes tight, the events that transpired this past few months replayed  in your head. Your escape was definitely done as carefully as you can and you didn’t even know if you’d succeed since you weren’t a master in that sort of thing.

You recalled that it was a week before you ran away, a few days after you met that kid in the bus. Someone from the electric company had come to inform you that there was a scheduled black out in the city that day during the afternoon and you felt something bubble up in you. That was the day you’d put your plan into motion.

You knew that the longer you delayed your plan, the harder it would be to escape.

You had a few minutes to actually put your plan to work. The camera’s on the hallways would cease to function for a few minutes according to the guard downstairs as he did a protocol on the building (apparently the generators were quick). So that morning after Sakusa left, you placed only a few clothes and the stash of money you had been carefully hiding in a garbage bag and chopped your hair short in an uneven manner. Burning all the remaining hair on the fireplace and the black hair color that you use with it. The maid uniform that you stole on your floor and a fake name plate that you made was on and you were good to go.

The minute the black out started, you took the garbage bag and walked out. Taking the stairway used by the caretakers, you made sure to just look down and never directly up at the camera’s pretending to work.

When you finally made it out of your building. You let out a stiff sigh and put down the bag, it was only the beginning. If you thought the same way as Sakusa Kiyoomi, you could only imagine that you needed to be more careful from this point on.

You take the newly bought duffel bag that you strategically hid behind some boxes. Thankfully when you had placed it yesterday afternoon, it hadn’t been touched. 

You put on a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt with cheap shades and stuffed the maid uniform in the duffel bag along with your belongings in the garbage bag. You take the other route that led to the busy streets. It was easy to look like a tourist and seemingly blend in the crowd, from that point on, you only had one destination in mind.

When you were younger, you vividly remember an acquaintance telling you about this small town outside of Tokyo where her grandparents were from. It was only an hour away via plane and when you went down another few hours via bus yet if you took the bus route all in all, it would take a few days.

Since it was far, only a few busses actually went there and since you had to leave within the day, you decided to just take the bus nearest to that town and take another bus when you arrived there.

The plan smooth-sailed from that point on.

Except for one minor detail.

You open your eyes and look down at your now small bump. The monster who almost had you trapped left a parting gift, you grip your garden hoe tightly.

A big part of you wanted to kill it.

Yet every time you try to, you hesitate.

The moment you arrived here, you had to pretend to be a weary and poor widow. You just didn’t expect to be a weary and poor expecting widow. You let out an uncharted sigh at the thought, it was hard enough to be alone here with little to no money. 

This child had the demon’s blood in it.

Yes, you may have gone free from his cage but in truth with his seed growing in your stomach day by day, you started to feel quite the opposite.

taglist [thanks for your support ilyasm skkss im so sorry for updating late too :(]

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@kn0xiousnight  

[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

[parkeraul]

B L O O M — F I R S T

a/n: welcome to bloom’s 1st chapter. the prologue wasn’t very self-explanatory but we’re going to see everything from the very beginning and i promise you that i’m gonna develop the concept through the chapters to make it clear. i’d be very grateful to receive feedbacks on my askbox, i wanna know what you’re thinking of it and if anyone’s interested on joining/leaving the taglist, let me know as well.  the format is going to be a little different from what i usually do to my imagines, so you can also warn me if these elements are working out. 

warnings: drinking & smoking.  words: 3,902.

1st: Take a trip into my garden.  Musical Inspiration: Bloom — Troye Sivan | Recorded At Spotify Studios NYC

“Is it too tight?” She feels her head being gently squeezed by the two pieces of satin holding the black mask on her face.  “No, it’s good,” Answering flatly, she turns around when Ginger’s arms are away from her to lean against the wall and fix her mask, feeling the pressure of the object just to make sure it won’t fall off. “It’s very cliché, though.”  Ginger laughs softly, staring at her like she’s just helped her daughter get ready to her first date.  “It’s what they do to introduce the new girls,” She explains and starts playing with the strands of the other girl’s hair. She looks at Ginger and feels kind of jealous of her confidence, not to mention the way her chest flutters everytime their eyes meet. Ginger’s not even trying to wear an alluring attitude, it’s just natural and, by the way her heart is threatening to explode inside her chest, she wishes they could switch places. “They think that, like this, you can all feel less intimidated by all these guys.” She finishes her explanation and peeks through the blind to look around the place, bringing those new eyes semi-covered by the mask to follow her and take a glance from where they were standing. 

Don’s office is huge enough to keep all the girls inside of it and both Ginger and the new girl think that this is probably one of his wildest kinks. All the girls are out there, already acting seductively towards the men taking over the big hall and, even though they went inside the office only to fix the mask, they’re still inside the room rambling as much as they can before stepping out. 

The desk is covered by different types of whiskey, wine and vodka with glasses half-empty resting atop of it and the smell of alcohol is taking over the whole room, making her stomach twist in its place a little due to the combination of nervousness and the unavoidable scent invading her nostrils with no further warnings. “Have you picked a codename already, sweetheart?” Ginger grabs her attention back, letting go of the blind to show her blue eyes widening under her red mask as she takes a cigarette out of the pocket of her leather jacket. “Not really,” She watches Ginger pulling the cigarette next to her lips to light it. “I don’t think I’m gonna do it, honestly.” “M-Mm, darling, trust me,” Ginger takes a pause to take a pull, offering the cigarette to her and exhaling the smoke away from her face. “It’s the best thing to do,” She takes her time while smoking, looking for that relief she’s been searching for in these few seconds. “We already had trouble with stupid rich men stalking the girls everywhere and I’m not talking only about social media,” She finishes and reaches a glass of whiskey behind her, not taking her eyes off the new girl for a minute. “You see, being in this position makes it harder to decide anything for ourselves but that doesn’t mean we can’t think selfishly sometimes. And by selfish I’m not talking about being mean… It’s self-care.” “And why do you care so much?” An eyebrow arches towards Ginger and she passes the cigarette back, releasing the smoke through her nose. “It’s not like you’re getting in trouble if something happens to me.” She knows she’s being edgy, but that’s how she learned to defend herself. No one would be there for her besides herself. Specially men. Dealing with this new universe in front of her with so many unpredictable possibilities seemed to be scary — no wonder why the extreme parts of her body are getting cold while her chest is hotter than hell because of the anxiety — but that’s not the first time she’s playing with fire and it’s certainly not going to be the last. She would rather having time to plan things out and follow her specific directions to avoid any chances of fucking things up, but right now the only option left is to channel her impulsive side in the calmest way she can, if that’s even possible. Relying on people is a mistake, she thinks. If you’re walking alone, then no one can disappoint you but yourself. Trust is an inexistent word on her vocabulary. Trust is a fantasy. It’s always better to develop your own independence instead of waiting for someone to get your job done. She would never do this for someone, so it makes no sense for her to expect people to babysit her and tell her that everything’s gonna be fine. With that being said to herself over and over again during life, she sees no reason to give Ginger any credits. “I’m only telling you this because I’ve been there before,” She holds the cigarette and finishes her whiskey in the middle of her sentence. “It’s just a friendly advice for you to think about in case you’re planning to ride the rollercoaster without throwing up at the end,” Ginger says and swallows thickly to ease the burning sensation on her throat. “Don isn’t the good guy you think he is, sweets. These bitches are all inside their own little worlds,” She points to the other girls hanging outside the office, some of them fixing their outfits while speaking to someone and some others scrolling their phone screens. “So, you better lose the attitude and get some tips if you’re interested in keeping your spot as his newest favourite girl.” She glances at Ginger’s blue eyes with a bold smirk, switching sometimes to study some other details on her face: seeing the freckles across her cheeks and nose, her red lips slightly parted nearly matching with the soft orange tone of her hair in front of her shoulders. She dares to inch closer enough to smell the scent of her skin and brush the tips of their noses, locking the redhead between the desk and her own body in front of the window. Ginger feels surprised but doesn’t move at all, facing whatever she’s about to do. “I really, really appreciate your words, Gin,” She still plays with her own devilish smile, bringing her right hand to tuck a strand of Ginger’s hair behind her ear, making her close her eyes and choke on her air lightly. “But I don’t need a mom, I know how to take care of myself.” She lets her hand caress across her jawline and finds her chin, tilting down to plant a kiss on it without breaking eye-contact with her eyelids covered in red eyeshadow, waiting for her to finally reciprocate the affection. The loud sound of the girls talking to each other muffled the noise of the doorknob being twisted to the side, so none of them noticed when Don walked in. He had to clear his throat strongly to snap everyone’s attention. “Girls, I love what you’re doing but I’d love even more if you could save this to the party,” Don says snapping his fingers towards Ginger and the new girl, giving them a dirty grin and making them pull away. “But good to know that you’re already in the mood, people are looking forward to it.” Don closes the door behind him and they immediately pull away because being the owner of an entire building makes it all easier for him to boss not only the lawyers working for him, but also the girls he hired to compose his side-business. He’s looking at the women from head to toe, searching for any aspect out of place to quickly warn them before starting the celebration. “As you know, this Sunday is the anniversary of our office,” The man licks his lips before starting, not moving his sight away from the bodies for a split second. “And you, my girls, are all gathered here to have some fun with my co-workers,” He explains like it isn’t obvious, trying to ease the tension he knows it’s present in the new people.  “And I don’t want anything to ruin this night. Is that clear?” Manipulated, the girls nod together without even thinking twice. “Great! We’ve got some new toys for you too since we had to assign some fresh contracts, so I trust you all to make your best moves that I know you can.” Don’s smile is devilishly widening, probably due to the memories coming up to his mind. She wonders with how many of those women he’d been with before “setting them free”. 

All of him exhales a big asshole energy. The beige suit he’s wearing right now can’t hide his real intentions, even though he’s looking just like another ordinary lawyer with gel on his hair and expensive accessories adorning his wrist, neck and fingers. And she remembers that when she first met him she felt like there’s something hidden in between the lines. A man like him surely knows how to convince and to approach using only his features. Who’d resist falling for his blonde hair pushed back and blue eyes? It’s as cliché as the masquerade party he’s throwing, but with that deep tone of his voice and charming smile, he could get the world spinning around his finger effortlessly. 

Don reaches the doorknob behind him and opens some space for the girls to step out. “So… Why don’t you go have some fun?” He steps aside and points to the outside where the hall is, lots and lots of men walking around the secretaries’ desks, eventually sitting on the tables to chat after a long day working. Ginger gives her one last look before handling the cigarette back to her and walking out. She follows instantly, gradually getting the look of everyone having a good time and she can’t quite understand why the girls are so happy about it — their eyes brightening and hands clapping together like they’ve just won a big prize for being good girls during the whole year instead of being closer to please men they don’t even know. She’s chosen to be here but, to be honest, she wishes she’d stayed home and looked for a simpler thing to do. Picking up the pace of her footsteps, she tries to be near the redheaded girl before being thrown at those hungry guys curiously looking at the new bodies filling the hall. “Uh-uh, babe,” Don enters the space that separates her from Ginger, dragging his palm to graze the uncovered skin of her rib. “You’re coming with me tonight.” She doesn’t even know how fast he found the space between the top cropped and high-waist pants of her leather set, but she’s hoping that he’s going somewhere cool with it. If he thought she was in the mood, then he’s dead wrong. “I want you to stay in my circle for now until you get the rhythm of it all,” He lies. Don might be thinking he sounded smooth, but she can clearly notice the lie dripping from his lips by the way he can’t stop moving his hand towards the zip on her back. She smiles weakly; bringing the cigarette to her lips for one last smoke and puts it down on the ashtray standing at the edge of his desk and releasing the air to the side, consequently turning her eyes away from his. “Wanna show you to my closest friends. Does that feel good?” She chuckles, returning to the tall blonde man standing in front of her as she toys with his tie in between her black stiletto nails. Tugging the material, she pulls him closer in a very fast and fierce movement, making Don bite on his lower lip while he watches her brown eyes travel their sight across his face under her mask. “Don, I… I feel kinda scared, I’m not gonna lie,” She says looking deep in his blue eyes and he swears he’d never seen someone so irresistible before. “I just, you know… Would rather-“ “Honey, there’s nothing you should worry about,” Another lie falls from his lips and she keeps on pretending that she’s interested on the print decorating his tie, running her digits through it slowly and her lips form the cutest pout, intensifying her innocent expression. “Listen, today I’ll introduce you to the nice guys only. I promise you, ‘kay?” She nods and takes a deep breath, trying hard to suppress a laugh because Don — the smartiest lawyer in the building — is buying her cheap theatre without even thinking twice. “But don’t get used to this, darlin’, want you to make good money and this is for you too. Young and good-looking guys aren’t the richest,” Don caresses her face and she leans like a little kitten, smiling at him sweetly. Feels so good to know that Don doesn’t need more than her basic convincing-skills to give her whatever she wants. “C’mon, I’ll take you.” He pulls back and offers his arm for her to hold with hers. And so she does.

All the girls had their pairs already, two or three with more than just one guy and she gulps, fearing that Don would force her into a threesome or maybe something worse. The hall had a darker tone, only the small lights around the roof illuminating the place contrasting with the chandeliers turned off and she started studying already which one of the men is the least disgusting. She’s seeing most of them drinking their expensive liquor, smoking their fancy cigarette and loosening their decorated ties; some of them also finding a couch to sit onto and Don takes her to the most crowded sofa. He sits and guides her by the waist to sit down on his lap, so she doesn’t really have a choice. If she wants to have the slightest chance to make a decision by herself, she must act differently. So she doesn’t tilt her head down like she wants to do — instead, she makes sure her spine is straightened and her legs are looking good, crossing the right one on top of her left thigh as all the men begin to glance at her, inching their bodies discreetly closer. “Never saw this one before,” One of them comments like she’s not even there, smirking and switching eyes from her frame to Don’s. “If I knew you’d bring a new girl, I’d take a shower before coming all the way here.” He laughs to himself and it’s clear to see that the rest is only laughing not to leave the man alone. She forces a smile, analyzing the old man with revulsion. He’s got a cigar standing in front of him and she bets the smell of the cigar is better than his right now. His suit is messed up and he’s occupying half of the couch with his legs spread open, white greasy hair on top of his head well fixed. He’s not so ugly, she thinks, but he’s definitely not someone she wants to get intimate with in her whole life. He’s got blue eyes too and a beautiful smile even, although his teeth are showing a light yellow colour, probably from smoking way too much. “Is this your dad?” She asks Don, making connection with some similiar features on both their faces. This time, everyone laughs sincerely and she feels like she’s grounding her enchantment somehow. “Not really but if you want to, he can be your daddy.” Someone else says and they laugh even louder, making her swallow thickly. No, thank you. “This is Oliver,” Don explains, holding her middle carefully on top of him and pointing to the first man who spoke. “That other one is Richard, they’re both defense lawyers in here and big mouths as you can see.” He says to her.

Another man gets closer to hang out with them, a lot younger apparently and he finds a spot next to Oliver to sit down, making the gray-haired guy close his legs to free some space. 

“And this is our babyboy,” Oliver hugs the man by his shoulder, squeezing him and making him blush a little. She watches attentively, finally glad to see someone actually attractive. “Looks like a trainee, doesn’t he?” She agrees, not able to even blink. He’s got no suit covering his broad body, only a dark shirt hugging his arms and chest tightly and she can feel the electricity sparkling in her senses. Drifting away from Oliver’s touch, he inches forward to get a glass of whiskey and eyes her, frowning right after. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” He says to her, seeing her brown hair thrown to the side getting in front of her mask partly. She opens her mouth to answer him but someone else kicks in first. “She’s new, Peter!” Richard yells. “Don is making better researches after the past 3 boring months.” He widens his eyebrows, comprehending and nodding slowly towards Richard to look back at the only woman standing among them. “What’s your name, angel?” He asks curiously and takes her palm with his free tattooed hand, smiling at her and ignoring the commentaries rising from this action of his. Oliver coos ridiculously and Richard praises him as a good boy. Don is way too distracted by his phone and all the other lawyers are laughing at the situation, not believing how fast and smooth he just spoke. She also ignores the other men and her heart races a little after listening to his words. If she didn’t wanna choose a codename before, then this is the first time she feels glad someone did a job for her. “You just shot it right.” 

The hall starts to get empty and she’s long gone from the little crew back in the sofa, hidden in the small kitchen all the way across the offices and telephones to distract herself with the post-its pinned on a board. As she looked a little bit lower, she saw all the names decorating the papers with numbers. She knows those names and she’s now recognizing them. Pepper, Sandy, Ariel, Trisha, Kitty, Ginger & Lois — Lost in between so many other familiar names and random warnings, making her gulp. Would her name eventually get stuck with a red pin in this black board? This is a possibility that she can’t avoid now. She’d need to play her cards even better to fool Don the best she can. It wasn’t hard tonight, so it shouldn’t get harder from now on. She hears steps passing behind her and her body instantly freezes. “Sorry, I’m just getting my suit…” A familiar voice says and she spins around quickly to make sure she heard correctly. “Peter!” She mumbles, more reassuring herself than actually calling him. “Hey, Angel,” He grabs the black suit from a chair and turns to face her, as surprised as she is. “You can call me Shawn, by the way. Peter is just my middle name that they use to joke around with.” She smiles in relief and it’s so delightful to hear his tone explaining such a casual unnecessary thing, like he even had to clarify something to her. Now with a better light she can see his hazel eyes looking at her so kindly, his hair full of curls being pushed back by his hand as he grins, highlighting his flushed cheeks getting redder — maybe because of the four glasses of whiskey he had before, she thinks. Shawn, on the other hand, knows that it’s because he’s feeling kind of intimidated by her beauty. She’s got her body being enfolded by leather clothes and, with the mask, she spurs his curiosity a little bit farther. Her brown eyes match with the colour of her hair and he wants to discover more than the shades he’s seeing now. Shawn wants to know what’s under the black leather. He wants to see her shape, the format of her nose and eyebrows and how her lips would look after a kiss. Would they still be glossy and red? Obviously, he feels shy now but he knows he’d blame himself later for not trying. “Going home this soon, Shawn?” She asks. “I could barely introduce myself.” She smirks and for a moment she wants to unravel all the things about herself to see if they have something in common, like a regular date is. She’s not a date, though. She’s not someone to date, someone he’ll show to his parents after a couple of months together. Just like all those men treated her, she feels like it — like an object sitting down on Don’s thighs, not inviting everyone to play around with. She knows she must make a good first impression to Don and get in someone’s bed tonight, but she doesn’t wanna make a toy out of him like people did with her before. It’s good to feel purely enticed by someone in here, she thinks. This is not the time to let an opportunity pass. “I am, actually,” Her heart drops a little. Fuck. All that she wants right now is that he can get her home even if they’re going to play chess with glasses of milk as drinks. Anything. Shawn feels a knot forming on his chest. Insecurity. “I… Uh… Work here from Tuesday to Friday…” “Right…” She confirms, getting the hint and tilting her head down to stare at her heels. So close… “So if you come home with me, we’ll have a whole day to know each other.” A lack of sanity washes over him and he can’t even notice when the invitation flies from his lips.   “What makes you think that I’m gonna spend the whole Monday getting to know you better, Shawn?” She closes the large space in between them, moving her head to the side and the strands of her hair falls to cover her shoulder, looking into his greenish eyes and softly palming his chest with both hands. A part of her is regretting her attitude now that she’s being so bold after getting what she wanted the whole night and the other part just can’t help it, getting his lower stomach sending pulsations to his member confined in his briefs. He moves his thick arms behind her and he opens his suit to cover her back, soon moving his hands — one to cup the nape of her neck and the other one to rub her jawline with his calloused thumb. “Why don’t you give me a chance to convince you, Angel?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact and she feels totally bound to anything that might eventually come out from him right now. “You won’t regret it, I swear.”

From the sofa, Shawn is seen heading towards the corridor that leads to the elevators with his feet bouncing from side to side — hiding her frame the best way he can — by Don. He inches up the glass forcefully, not minding the way the liquor invades his throat burning all the expansion of it. He looked throughout the half-crowded hall just to confirm that Angel is the one he’s taking home. Too bad he had other plans for her tonight — too bad Shawn took her first when he planned to take her instead. 

Don shuts his face as the others talk around him, pouring some more liquor so, like this, he might forget about it for tonight and reschedule his plan to some other time.

Taglist: @tnhmblive — @shawmednes — @ruinhoney — @shawns-curls

[braden-ffxiv]

lots-of-words profile: Braden

Appearance:

Gender: Male

Race: Miqo’te

Height: 6'3"

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: light-blonde

The Facts:

Name Day: Some day kinda-sorta close to the fall time. Maybe.

Occupation: professional thief, conman, hustler, craftsman, whatever makes him some coin

Allegiance: proud patriot of Bradenstan

Sexual identification: heterosexual

Romantic identification: heteroromantic

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Criminal History: On the record? Petty theft, minor fraud, disturbing the peace, public intoxication, resisting arrest. Off the record? Well..

Relationship Status: Involved

Sweet on: @cinnamon-suncat

Favourites:

Favourite food: BREAD. In all of its wondrous variations. Sweet breads, quick breads, unleavened breads, whole grains, sourdough loaves, cheesy breads, fruity breads.. bread.

Favourite drink: If liquor's what he's sippin', he's sure to be kickin'.

Favourite artist: Probably his tattoo artist, Eirie. Syr is pretty good at the gold paint thingie so her too

Favourite scents: Fresh, cool, breezy pines. Which is perplexing since he hates the forest 

Favourite person: Outside of Syr, probably his childhood best friend/romantic partner Rheina

Ten facts

Braden grew up a slave to a pair of criminals who raised children as criminals and sold them, but you probably already knew that.

Braden has been incarcerated for serious offenses once - and it was because he allowed himself to be captured in order to rob the prison's warden. To try to cement his status as a convict, he had Eirie give him a prison tattoo, but it was far too pretty and nicely-done to convince anyone.

Braden actually knows his birth name - "K'aran," as it was listed in a document regarding his 'sale'. He considers K'aran to be a different person - one who died with his tribe, and refuses to readopt the name, though.

Because of the circumstances of his youth, Braden has a homicidal hatred for slavers. At least once, this has extended to a wealthy individual who, while not technically a slaver, more or less forced a dozen women to work as his servants because of unpayable debts he had leveraged against them through deceit and exploitative means.

Braden is quite wealthy. As a skilled thief he regularly makes loads of money off of heists; however, outside of nice clothes and nice food, he lives well below his means and is quite stringently conservative with his money. (Growing up scrounging to survive tends to have this effect.) He's generous when it comes to other people, though - he's a big tipper and he's bailed friends out of trouble many, many times.

Speaking of friends, Braden has a lot of them. Having gotten into dozens of adventures, and given his ostentatious and charismatic personality, Bray has a professional contact, old comrade, business partner, fence, former lover, or other manner of acquaintance in every town, port, settlement, and backwater tavern across half of Hydaelyn. It's a running thing in Syrena and Braden's adventures that they constantly come into contact with his past lovers, people who owe him money, or people he's helped out.

He has a distinctly Ishardian scene tattooed across one of his arms - something that, given his hatred of the cold (and of Coerthas in general), seems quite odd. He has it because he told his tattoo artist, Eirie, one of his best friends, that he wanted her to tattoo him with something that was important to her, as a sort of living 'tribute' to her on his skin. As a Coerthan exile, she covered his arm in the scene of dragons, knights and rolling, snowy mountains.

Braden often keeps many of the treasures from his heists, hoarding them in safehouses and vaults scattered in secret places across Eorzea. He has a pile of wealth stuffed into his apartment, though it's mostly stuff he has legitimate legal claim to (so if the law comes snooping, they can't cart him away for having the Sultana's jewels laying on his dresser.) The exception are special sentimental things shoved into the pile, which until recently included a curious, bejeweled tiara.

Braden doesn't like fighting. It's always far more trouble than it's worth, when escaping hastily works twice as well with fewer complications. Consequently, while Bray is in pretty good shape and has a nicely-toned torso, his legs are definitely the strongest part of him - good for running, jumping, scrambling up walls, over fences, swimming under the docks to hide from guards, and more.

Braden once sailed on a pirate ship, long ago, with a crew of cutthroats. They called him 'cleanskin' and 'prettyface', as he was young, relatively unblemished, in spite of having a bad attitude and a massive chip on his shoulder. He got his first tattoo on a drunken dare, mostly to chase away those irritating nicknames.

Five Things:

He likes:

Sex

Crafting things

Witty banter

Running cons

Crashing parties

He dislikes:

Slavers

The Shroud

Mushrooms

Cold weather

Quiet

Good traits:

Charismatic

Generous

Witty

Adventurous

Self-sufficient

Bad traits:

Cowardly (occasionally)

Lazy

Promiscuous (..though not really, recently)

Greedy

Dishonest/frequent liar

Fears:

Forests

Dark, enclosed places

Dragons, and other large lizard-y things

Abandonment

Betrayal

Personalities he avoids:

Authoritative/power-trippers. This includes lots and lots of different people. Law enforcement, military, rule-followers, rule-creators, rule-interpreters.. if you're involved in the boring minutiae of something silly like 'keeping society orderly', you're likely to earn an eyebrow-roll from Braden. He's wary of religious people for this reason. Most importantly, if you ever try to shame him for being a shameless, promiscuous flirt, he will scoff a hearty scoff at you. Go to bed, grandpa, it's time for the kids to have fun now.

Pushy loudmouths, especially the kind that are abusive assholes to the underprivileged - beggars, prostitutes, refugees, servants, waitresses. If you're trying to impress the tavern serving girl with your tales of machismo and riches and then you leave a stingy tip after grabbing her ass while she giggled uncomfortably all evening, chances are you'll wake up naked and coinless in the middle of a road to nowhere the next day, with 'FUCKHEAD' tattooed onto your forehead after a wild night out with your 'new, handsome blonde friend'. Braden absolutely loves running cons on rich, belligerent idiots.

-Ruthless/aggressive individuals with little regard for life. Braden's not a bleeding heart and people die often, but going out of one's way to disregard the impact of one's actions on others (especially the aforementioned less privileged) will quickly earn one a poor rapport with the thief. Bray is a thief - the definition of selfish - so if you're too much of an uncaring dick to get on his nerves, you've really gotta be something.

Unadventurous individuals. People with no sense of excitement or adventure are going to be antagonized into going on dangerous, exciting adventures if they hang out with Braden, whether they like it or not. Complete sticks-in-the-mud who refuse to have law-breaking, imperiling 'fun' with him will turn him off quite a bit.

Scholarly/bookish types. Unless you're a pretty gal he thinks he can get to cause trouble with him, he will sigh lazily and probably fall asleep during your philosophical debates on aether and Nym and what-the-fuck-ever. Hit the snooze on that conversation, professor, let's go break into a bank vault somewhere.

Personalities he gravitates toward:

Flirts. Braden eats, breathes, and especially sleeps dirty conversation and flirtatious banter. He certainly loves sex, but that needn't be the sole goal of flirting, since it's fun in and of itself. Individuals as libertine as himself are likely to draw positive attention from him.

Adventurers. Anyone willing to risk his or her neck for the thrill of exploration, discovery, riches, and fame, is someone after Braden's own heart.

Chaotic/lawless types. Flouting the rules is itself a glorious declaration of the freedom of the individual, and if you break rules for the sake of being able to say you did, Bray will love you. Not just legal rules, either - spitting on social convention, rejecting cultural norms, dressing in black leather and dying your hair bright-green because you fucking want to - you're gonna be giving Bray a hard-on just saying that.

Rebels/freedom fighters. Braden's not really a 'big struggle', 'big picture' sort of guy. He's not going to die fighting for any cause (he'd rather not fight or die). He just wants to have fun, find secrets, get rich, meet good people, and have lots of sex. That said, he does tend to find himself appreciating people who struggle against oppression and fight against tyranny. He's definitely not going to join the fight, (at least not willingly), but fighting the system is definitely something he likes.

Streetwise people. Do you know a guy two alleyways over who can procure anything? Are you the guy two alleyways over who can procure anything? Are you a thief with her ear to the ground, the spymaster with shadows around every corner? Is the city itself a living, breathing entity to you, one you know how to speak to, how to manipulate? You're just Braden's type.