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gyu-effect · 1 year

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hi, congrats for 250 followers!!! i love all your works so far and couldn't wait to read more of your works. i also read your svt as love tropes and i AM DYING bc you wrote joshua as enemies-to-lovers (bc obviously joshua is my bias and the trope is my fav🥲). i guess this is very specific, but for the event, can i req joshua + enemies-to-lovers with the "who did this to you?"???? thanks!!

PAIRING || Joshua x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff, Enemies To Lovers AU, A Bit Of Angst

WARNINGS || yn's dad being a typical asian parent (sigh), mention of getting hurt

WORD COUNT || 1.6k (i got carried away-)

A/N || Oh my god thank you so so much! i actually am not that great at writing e2l but i had great fun in writing that one so i'm so glad you liked it! thank you for requesting, i tried my best and i really hope you like it too!

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilkmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped [if you want to be added to my taglist send me an ask!]

[09:51]

“i heard your report card came two days ago.”

you stopped on your tracks, turning slowly to face your father who was sitting on the living room couch, reading the newspaper. you let out an awkward laughter but it did nothing to calm down your now racing heart.

“ah, it must have slipped out of my mind.” you said, praying you wouldn’t get into more trouble. “you know how busy i’ve been with cram school and extra classes-”

“go get it now.” his cold voice cut you off as he placed the newspaper down, giving you a look that you were so familiar with. you swallowed hard, mind racing to find some excuse but you just couldn't; the fear was so engraved in you that it felt like your entire body had just stopped responding to you.

“isn’t it- isn’t it too late? how about i show it to you tomorrow-”

“now. i want to see it now. or did you have some reason to hide it?” he stood up and walked up to you, and you tried moving back as far as you could, but your back hit the wall very soon.

“no- why would i-”

“or,” his voice dropped an octave as he bent to your eye level, causing you to flinch, “did you come second again and that hong boy come first?”

your silence seemed to be enough for your father.

he straightened up as he regarded you coldly. “you are so pathetic, don’t you have any shame? i spend millions behind you and you can’t even do the one thing you are supposed to! do you know how embarrassing it is to tell everyone that you, the always second rank holder, are my daughter?”

you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin as you balled your fist in anger. tears stung your eyes but no matter how much you clenched your teeth, your heart still seemed to ache from your father’s harsh words.

“fine!” you finally snapped. “why don’t you just disown me and adopt joshua as your child then?”

as soon as you had finished your sentence, you heard a loud slap and your knees hit the ground. your cheek stung from the intensity of the slap but before you could even take everything in, you felt your father yank you up by your hair.

you screamed as you tried to pull yourself away but that just earned another slap from your father, this time feeling a sting on your lips. finally breaking free from him, you ran out of your house onto the street, blindly running until you finally reached the park.

the park wasn’t actually a park. it was an abandoned playground with a few trees here and there that hadn’t been touched by the development of your posh neighbourhood. yet. you had discovered this place in your sixth grade, and seeing that no one ever came by, it soon became your escape spot for whenever your parents scolded you too much.

you sat down on one of the creaky swings, finally feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.

your lips stung, your cheeks hurt, your head was throbbing but mostly it was your heart. it was clenching painfully at the thought of how meaningless you were to your parents, no matter how hard you tried. it hurt from the amount of hatred that had piled up against your parents and mostly hong joshua.

hong joshua.

the stellar boy of the school. the secret crush of every single girl in your grade. the favourite boy of all the teachers that had taught you.

he was well mannered, sweet, handsome and smart.

so no matter how much your parents pitted you against him, it shouldn't have bothered you since he obviously deserved it, right?

but it seemed like he knew your parents did that, and that’s why every time he would win first he would always smirk at your direction as though trying to rile you up. that sweet boy facade disappeared everytime the two of you were alone or competing with each other.

he made sure to point out all your mistakes every time, never take your suggestions despite being in the same student body for so many years together and argue back for almost everything you said.

in other words, the two of you were sworn enemies and you hated him with your every living breath.

sometimes, you wished he would just disappear so that your life could become easier. everything was so easy for him, while you had to struggle and work hard for everything. even if it was just making your parents proud like his.

you sighed for the umpteenth time, once again blaming joshua for everything.

“well, well, who do we have here?”

you whipped in shock towards the direction of the oh so familiar voice, praying it wasn’t who you thought it was.

but like always, your prayers were never answered.

your eyes met hong joshua's teasing gleaming ones, and it took every bit of your willpower not to retort back.

"cat got your tongue, darling?"

you hated that nickname but this time, you just smiled at him, wincing a little at the sting on your lip.

immediately his smirk fell, eyes finally taking in your messy hair and the wound on your lips.

"who did this to you?"

if you had been in your right mind you would have heard the coldness and anger in his voice, but you weren't so instead you turned away from him, hoping he would just go away.

you heard his footsteps from behind you and within seconds you found the boy you hated the most in this world crouching in front of you. your eyes were now at level with his, and he looked concerned.

"y/n." he asked once again, gritting his teeth. "who did this to you?"

"can you just go away?" you whispered, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against the metal threads of the swing. "i don't need you to find another thing to pick on me.”

“pick on-” joshua shook his head. “wait here, i’ll be back in a minute.” saying that, he got up and ran from there. you muttered a ‘whatever’ but within a minute you heard his footsteps, along with his heavy breathing.

opening your eyes, you once again found joshua kneeling in front of you, this time dabbing a cotton bud onto an antiseptic cream. he raised his hand to apply it on your lip but you just turned your head away from him.

“hey,” he said so softly that you nearly turned back to look at him in shock. “i’m not going to hurt you, okay? but we need to take care of that so that it doesn’t leave a scar on those pretty lips of yours, okay?” he continued, still speaking softly to you as though he was afraid you would break if he spoke to you otherwise. the hong joshua you knew had the could speak this softly to you?

when you still didn’t turn to him, he sighed. then, you felt warmth prickle your hands as he took them in his, causing you to finally look at him.

“what are you doing-” you began but he cut you off.

“i’m sorry if you thought i was picking on you.” he said, his eyes filled with so much sincerity that your heart nearly skipped a beat. “i didn’t mean to hurt you, i swear. i just- i just thought you wouldn’t mind if i teased you a bit. it was just that…it was so fun bickering with you and you look so cute everytime you are riled up. i didn’t mean it in a bad way, i swear. if i had known how your parents were…”

his voice trailed off as you mulled his words in your head. was it really true that he had never meant it in a bad way?

the more you thought about it, the more you realised that he might be right. after all, he had never insulted you in front of others, not even if he had beaten you in yet another exam. he had just bickered with you and that was about it.

you wanted to ask why didn’t he try being more nicer to you then but instead you asked-

“you think i’m cute?”

even joshua seemed taken aback by your choice of question but after a second he broke into a laugh. his eyes pulled into the half moons you were so familiar with as he displayed his bunny teeth as he laughed. you always knew he was handsome but right now he looked cute, beautiful and handsome.

“is that what is bothering you?”

“i- no. i mean, yes.” you stuttered, all of a sudden unable to meet your ‘enemy’s’ eyes.

“yeah, i think you are cute. really cute and pretty. especially when you are riled up. or flustered like now.”

“i’m not flustered!”

he laughed once more and this time you couldn’t stop the sudden stuttering of your heart. was just joshua’s laugh enough to make you forget your hatred for him and like him?

no way.

“i’m still mad at you.” you muttered, as he gently patted down your hair. he looked at you apologetically.

“i’m sorry. i really am. i didn’t know i was hurting you. is there any way i can make it up to you?”

“well..” what could he even do to make it up to you? it wasn’t exactly his fault that he didn’t realise he was hurting you. should you just ask him to be your friend? hating one less person seemed to be a great idea to you.

“if you aren’t sure could i suggest something?”

“er, okay?” the cocky smile on his face made you suspicious of what he was going to say but decided to give it a try.

“do you want to go out with me on a date tomorrow?”

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celestiall0tus · 2 months

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The Seven Deadly Kwami Sins

I kinda just said "What if I did this" one night and here we are. This is more an excuse to make kwamis that aren't based off animals, and in this case, demons.

Let's crack into this with the first of them:

We start with the greatest of sins, Superbia, Kwami of Pride. The only one of the sins to have wings. Oh, and all their names are going to be the latin of their sins (I hope. I tried to do my research, so I'm fairly (not really) confident they're right)

The second sin we have is Libidine, Kwami of Lust.

The third is Ira, Kwami of Wrath. This is also an exception to the rule I have with kwami names and holder names. I know Ira is used for Absolution!Ondine, but like, themes.

The fourth is Desidia, Kwami of Sloth.

The fifth is Invidia, Kwami of Envy

The sixth is Gula, Kwami of Gluttony

Lastly, the seventh is Avaritia, Kwami of Greed.

This is probably the closest to a miracle box you'll get from me, which I'm calling (as of now) Heavenly Light, Hellish Shadow. It's a box meant for the seven sins and the seven virtues, direct contrasts. I figured it'd work well with the kwami system I have, plus, why the fuck not?

Anyway, I might get around to making the seven virtues. We'll see

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #au #alternate universe #fanart #miraculous fanart #design #digital art #my art #art #fan art #seven deadly sins #kwamis #kwami #ocs #oc #kwami oc

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ravencincaide · 2 months

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Over a gunshot

Summary: When you were called into your bosses office you expected a lot of things; a mission, a punishment, maybe even death. What you did not expect was to be taught a lesson. Even less so to have to show you were able and willing to be more than just a simple dealer..

Pairing: Subordinate fem!Reader x Boss Chuuya

Author note: This is an independent part two of Over a Cigarette

Warnings: Cursing, guns, violence, murder and blood, mention of being a drug dealer,

8:58

You rocked on your feet outside the office door. Your hands sweaty, clampy, as you grasped the door knob in between shaky fingers. A deep breath, one, two. You closed your eyes for a second, sent prayers to anyone who would dare listen and hoped someone would answer them. A little luck and a ton of mercy was what you were asking for. All in all, not an all that big request- although as you stood outside your boss's boss, outside the leader of the entire Port Mafia office, you knew mercy would equate to a miracle.

One last deep breath before you pressed down on the handle and pushed the heavy office door opened. It gave away with a squeal.

8:59

You were hit with the pungent scent of blood.

You froze in the doorway, breath hitched in your throat. Your eyes locked at the boss seated at the heavy desk. Curtains drawn shut behind him, making the bright red glow that surrounded him that much more prominent.

Ominous.

Murderous.

Like staring the devil in the face. A handsomely twisted face outline with the deadly red hue. The hue which made the blue of his eyes stand out all the more. His lips parted into a twisted grin at the sight of you. One gloved hand raised, while the second tapped the fountain pen against a stack of papers- undoubtedly reports. It was a custom one, parker if you weren’t mistaken and you swore you could see a hint of golden engraving on its body. Chuuya finished writing the sentence before he set the pen back into its stand beside the black digital clock. Even the innocent red letters were unsettling. They added to the morbidity of the situation.

“ I-is it a bad time?” you stammered out as another whiff of blood reached your senses. You felt your stomach drop in fear, felt how your hand on the doorknob shook. You kept your eyes firmly on the Mafia boss, on his calm composure and the menaced red. You were afraid. No, you were more than afraid- petrified. You did not dare look around to see where that metallic scent came from.

“ You’re on time, get in here and close the door behin’ you” Chuuya stated as his hand readjusted the position of the fountain pen in its holder. Your eyes followed the gloved hands moment.

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes landed back on the clock. Saw the seconds tick away painfully slowly until the digits changed. A screech came from the device; it broke you out of your trance. This ungodly sound dedicated to your arrival- a confirmation that you followed his order to the minute.

You stepped inside Chuuya’s office and closed the door behind you to the sound of the blaring alarm. Your eyes never once left the clock. This Friday morning would forever be engraved in your memory. The once in your lifetime when being on time undoubtedly saved your life; but also meant you were right on time to see your future change.

9:00

The sound of a pained groan drew your attention away from the clock and your eyes flickered in that direction. You gasped, your hand flew up to your face in horror. Five men you had seen but a week ago drinking away at a pub were on their knees. The five you had taken a picture of. But it was the sixth man who made your blood run cold; the familiar face of your boss. The very man who brought you into the mafia. But-but why? Your eyes shifted back to Chuuya’s cocky expression.

“ What?! But you said-”

“ I know what I said” he cut you off promptly “ Lesson one; never trust an executive’s words at face value. Especially outside closed doors. If I say ‘don’t hold back’ then–” he motioned for you to finish his sentence

“ .. then show restraint?” your voice came out small.

“ And if I say innocent” realization slowly dawned on you. It made you feel stupid for not thinking of that possibility sooner. Still despite your nod of affirmation, he forced you to say those words out loud.

“ - then they’re guilty traitors” Your eyes landed back on the men kneeling on the floor. Beaten, bruised and surrounded by the red ability which kept them pinned in place. Barely breathing, not moving, definitely glaring. In too much pain to do anything but to grind their teeth together and just-breathe.

“ Port Mafia has no place for rats.” You heard the drawer open and flicked your eyes in Chuuya’s direction just as he threw something towards you. A red-hued gun which landed almost softly in your hands.

You nearly dropped it but caught yourself at the last second. Who knew what he would do to you if you damaged his property.

“ What? Never held a gun before?” Chuuya’s tone was mocking, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. Then his expression shifted into disbelief as you shook your head. “ What kind of fuckin’ mafia are you if you can’t even handle a gun, girl!”

“ A bootlegger” you mumbled almost ashamedly. You had hoped that your sign of loyalty would get you higher in the ranks; maybe even your own clientele with a set of runners to watch over. Not- not this.

“ Ehh? Well in that case there’s no harm in showing you how ‘ts done” Chuuya stood up from his seat and strolled over to you.

Each step a deafening sound that made the soon to be dead men more rigid.

Each step filled you with dread; your stomach turned, heart hammered in your ears while the vile taste of bile echoed in just the back of your throat.

Each step he took made the gravity of the situation hit you that much harder.

“ W-Wait-”

You took a step back but Chuuya did not let you run. With a rough tug of your wrist he brought you himself, placed your shaking body in front of him. Your back against his chest, arms on either side of you. Skilled hands grasped yours, with the glock between.

“ This here, you pull back, then push the cartridge here to reload-” his motion was fluid; he cocked the gun with ease as if it were second nature then raised your arms up so you aimed at one of the men. “ And none of that Hollywood one hand bullshit- both hands, steady. And then–” you let out a scream as he pulled the trigger with your finger.

The gunshot made your ears ring. The body- the way it flopped to the floor was deafening. You heaved, dropped your arms back to your side. Your world was spinning, mind raced. You were— Chuuya grasped a fistfull of your hair and pulled you back up into an upright position.

“ Get a fuckin grip and reload it” his voice a dangerous hiss in your ear; a knee between your legs propped you up. You shook your head, words of protest on your tongue that you couldn’t get past your lips. You hiccupped, shook like a leaf and if it weren’t for his fingers holding the glock in your hands you’d have dropped it long ago “Tsk, fine show you again, but better pay goddamn attention”

He repeated the motion again, slower, made sure you watched his every move before he raised the gun a second time and aimed it at the man in the middle. His choice made your eyes widen;“ Now shoot him”

“ N-No” you flicked backwards, subconsciously pressing yourself up against Chuuya’s chest. “ He is my boss”

“ Was” Chuuya corrected in a heartbeat. “ I am your boss. Where’s your bloody loyalty anyways?” His hands moved from your hands to your arms steadying your hold.

Despite yourself and everything in your mind that screamed that you couldn’t fucking kill anyone you kept the gun raised. Eyes firm on the man who had been your boss for so many years.

“ I did so much for you, you goddamn brat and you had to blabber your ugly mouth” Your old boss wheezed; a clear intention of making this as painful for you as possible. Each pet name, each memory, each helping hand he had stretched towards you made your hands shake just a little more. Your old boss was someone you hated and admired, who forced you to grow up but also showed you a rare instance of kindness. He held an important position in your life. Although you would never admit it- never dear indulge in those thoughts but he always had and always would hold a fragment of your heart in the palm of his hand.

But were you such a good person that you’d sacrifice your own life for your morale? Were you so righteous that you’d accept being tortured and murdered for a soon to be deadman? Memories and old loyalty- or to survive and get revenge.

You took a steadying breath. Flickered your eyes away from the cursing, spluttering man and moved your gaze to your right. Subconsciously your eyes were drawn to the dark red letters of the digital clock on Chuuya’s table. The time registered in your mind- forever engraved just like the angry betrayed look on your bosses- no old family, old friends face.

9:36

The second gunshot echoed through the base.

Author note: No one asked for a part two of Over a Cigarette but this is exactly what you guys got, yelp. Well if you're still here, reading this, I'm not sure what to say? Have a cookie? And I hope you enjoyed it! Not your cup of tea? Well I have a ton more works that you can check out instead by viewing Raven's masterlist!

Until next time! ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#raven cincade's works #raven cincaide #Over a cigarette #Boss chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x yn #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya boss #chuuuya x fem!reader #possible protege #protege series

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hentyehottie · 1 year

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ran haitani x black fem reader

wc: 5kish

Warnings: sensual sex, fuck buddies, fem reader, black coded reader!, friends with benefits, mutual pining, slight flirting, fingering, oral sex, mentions of creampie, squirting, unprotected sex, ouid usage, pet name usage (ex. pretty, good girl, pretty girl), chubby reader (big titties, fat ass, thick thighs, fat belly, etc.), ran has commitment issues, MDNI!

notes: school was whooping my ass, that’s why this took so damn long to write 😭 thank y’all for all the help @prtttycocobuttvr @pattycakes5516 🫶🏾 💕

I hope you all enjoy!

��

Here.

He tosses his phone in the cup holder after shooting you a text, drumming the fingers of his right hand against the center console. Droplets of rain begin to fall against the windshield and he’s hoping you bring your ass before it really gets to beating down.

You’re finally walking out and you look good. Good as hell actually, in a chocolate brown, skin tight tube dress and the brown pair of those teddy bear slippers you seem to have in every color. Half of your hair is wrapped up in a bun and the rest is flowing behind you as you speed walk to his car. There’s some kids playing football in the street and a couple of other people on their porches, probably wondering who the hell was getting picked up in such a nice car.

Surely no one expects it to be you—you barely went anywhere, but school and work, and by the way you were cheesing from ear to ear as you reached for the passenger door handle , this obviously wasn’t an Uber.

Your heart is in your stomach. This isn’t the first time he’s picked you up, but it’s the first time he’s picked you up in broad daylight. Ran notices your jean jacket is tucked away in the crevice of your left arm and the other is toting that big ass purse he wished you’d stop bringing. His room was small enough as it was and it just took up so much fucking space since you refused to sit it on the floor.

You plop down in the passenger seat immediately pulling the door closed, not wanting to hold him up any longer. You hear the gear shift and he’s driving down the expanse of your street to get back onto the main road.

“Hey! Been a while, thought you forgot about me.”

It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice. A week, week and a half maybe? He wasn’t sure if he missed seeing you or if it was just what came with seeing you, but it did feel nice to be in your presence again. The only reason he went to so long without seeing you was because he’d been so busy scouting locations for the club.

“Yeah..been busy. Stressed. My bad.”

Through his peripheral he sees you popping your AirPod into its case, dropping it into your bag. “I feel that, just finished midterms. I passed but they definitely whooped my ass.”

What were you in school for again? Bio? Nursing?

The gears are turning in his head but he’s still pulling blanks and deems it forgotten. If it comes up again, he’d probably ask tho.

It seems like he’d forgotten how pretty you were too, sneaking looks at you every chance he gets. Did you have your lashes done last time he saw you? He’s not entirely certain but he can’t help but be captivated by how fluffy they are and how they just slightly flutter against your cheeks every time you blink. That sexy vanilla perfume you like is dancing through his nostrils as you inch closer to hoop one of the straps of your bag around his headrest. “Remind me why you insist on fucking up my vehicle.”

You’d hardly call that fucking up his vehicle, but you did spill some of your sweet tea on his mat the last time he saw you and it seemed he’d never let you live it down.

“Because, a woman’s bag should never touch the floor and your fast ass driving is gonna have my shit all over the seat as soon as you hit a corner.”

As the two of you eased into the sixth month of knowing each other, you’re much more comfortable than you’d ever been with any man you’ve dealt with, but that still doesn’t stop the butterflies fluttering in your gut.

“Whenever you upgrade from your learner’s, I’ll let you drive us instead.”

He’s probably trying to be funny. It’s a nice ass car, real sleek and expensive most likely, you don’t even know what it is except that it’s a Benz. You highly doubt he’d even let you into the driver’s seat to honk the horn. “Kiss my ass, Ran. I’ll be driving before the year is out.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” His eyes are on you and he has that dreamy look on his face. The one where he cracks the tiniest little smile only for you. The one that makes it impossible to look him in the eyes cause it melts your heart and fills your tummy with the biggest butterflies. You never thought it’d get this deep between you and him, meeting him was supposed to be a social experiment. You and your friends all downloaded Tinder and the challenge was to link with the first guy you matched with.

Surprisingly, as soon as you swiped on Ran, it was a match. Not much conversing took place on the app, just small talk before you exchanged numbers and then plans to meet, chill, maybe smoke. It was so long ago and you don’t really remember all the details aside from how his skinny ass folded you up in the backseat of his car that same night. Ran gave you, hands down, the best dick of your life—choked you, spanked you, slapped you…all the kinky shit you fantasized about. Of course you fell in love.

The ride is quiet as it nears its end, music playing faintly in the background but drowned out by the heavy drizzle of the rain.

A twenty minute drive turned thirty seven, since he avoided expressways and fought with traffic. Plus he always drove the speed limit when it rained, especially with you in the car.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been to Ran’s place but it doesn’t amaze you any less every time you see it. From the floor to ceiling windows, marble tile and abstract art, the luxe apartment fits the eldest Haitani to a T. As soon as you step in, your first stop is the kitchen to wash your hands, a habit you picked up and passed on to him. After tossing your napkin you reach into your bag, passing him the Tupperware.

“I brought you some lasagna.” He’s shifting those lavender eyes down towards the pink plastic bowl then back at you again.

“Why?” It’s a genuine question and you hear no malice or sarcasm behind his tone.

“I- what? I‘m not putting woo on you, if that’s what you think, dickhead. Just had a lot left over and didn’t want to be wasteful.” You roll your eyes when he finally grabs the Tupperware from you. “Plus, it’s a peace offering for spilling the tea.”

He’s weary to take it, for whatever reason. Probably because he’s never had anyone cook for him. Or because he thinks he’ll fall for you even harder if he does. “Thanks.” Is all he says before he slides it into the fridge to keep cool.

“You act like you’re not used to people being nice to you, weirdo.”

He’s not. In his profession, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be. It’s never genuine and he knows it, why waste his time on fake love. That was before you at least, and it’s even more of a reason to stop whatever this was because seeing you has become more and more addictive and he’s in deeper than he’s ever been.

You follow him to his room like a little puppy, you know where it is but you always insist on entering only after he does. He’d done a lot of errands and running around so he’s peeling himself out of his outside clothes before sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes fixated on the TV that’s mounted to the wall. He chooses the r&b playlist you made, it’s what the two of you always use as background music.

A few feet away from him, you’re sliding out of your dress, letting it pool at your feet. The band of your thong sits high on your waist—something about not wanting a muffin-top, he remembers you saying, and he’s gripping your arm, pulling you over to him before you have the chance to pull them down. He positions you to straddle his lap, something you used to dread, in fear that you’d be too heavy for him. You’re pressed against him, the warmth of your chest against the cool skin of his.

“I missed you.” You ran your acrylics down the length of one of his braids where you begin undoing the rubberband at the end. Both braids are unraveled and the french tips of your nails are moving along his scalp. You smile when he lets out a deep sigh and his eyes roll back into his skull. “Missed you too.” He presses his lips against yours and you do the same once he’s got your attention, pressing kisses along his neck and chest. He doesn’t even mind the lipgloss on his lips and chest, thinks of it as you leaving your mark on him.

The both of you are skin to skin and everything about this is so mind boggling. Just a few weeks back you were a t-shirt warrior and an advocate for fucking in the dark, yet it only took one time—one night of Ran undressing you and kissing you from head to toe, caressing every single inch of your plush body and absolutely ravishing you in front of his full body mirror, chanting that you were beautiful until you understood.

Who could blame you for falling in love?

You want him so bad but you’ve accepted that he’ll never be yours the way you want him to be. And that’s okay because nothing else matters when he’s staring down at you like a god. Lilac eyes hooded, braids unraveled and his two-toned hair is fanned out around his face, so pretty and wavy. You’re staring back, a pillow under your knees for comfort.

His dick is big—thick and heavy, too heavy to stand on its own. It curves down gorgeously between his legs, mushroom tip beaded with pre as he grabs it. “So cute.” He breathes out, tapping his dick against your cheek and then your tongue. “Can I use you?”

You stare up at him, mesmerized by those deep pools of lavender. “You can do whatever.”

He’s lifting your braids up and away, keeping it out of your face, the scrunchie that held your bun now wrapped around his wrist. His first thrusts are nice and slow, rubbing his cock against your tongue and slowly easing towards your tastebuds. You’ve learned to breathe through your nose when he’s using your mouth like this.

Ran picks up pace and you’re gagging and drooling all over yourself. So much that you’re scooping it up and rubbing it on your nipples. He unsheathes his thick dick from your throat, cock twitching and jumping, slapping against your chin as he prolongs his orgasm. He’s enthralled by the sight you’ve become. Fat globs of tears pool at your waterline and snot runs down your nose, thick lines of frothy spit running down your chin and tits. He keeps a good grip on your hair, always makes it his duty to keep it nice and pristine when he sluts you out like this. You’re aware that you look an absolute mess and you know he fucking loves it, so much that he won’t stop staring down at you. Now your face is warm and you’re feeling bashful. “Want you to cum. Please.” Your tone is deep and sultry, yet your pleas are dipped in honey, deliciously sweet as they flood his mind.

His dick is back in your mouth, he’s moving your head slow and steady. “I’ll cum for you, pretty.”

“Oh f-uhhhh-uck.” He’s still thrusting, just a little faster, more sloppily & unhinged, feral and desperate as he fucks your throat to release. “G’nna cum for you right now.”

It isn’t long until he’s nearing his end, pulling out and giving his dick a few tugs until he’s shooting rope after rope, painting your face. You even catch some on your tongue and you’re swallowing it up as soon as he gives you your fill. You’ve learned to tolerate the bitterness and it’s much more pleasant now that you’re used to it. His toes are clenching into the carpet, his gut is tightening and the way you still wanna suck the life outta him even after he came is insane. But it feels so good to make him feel good. His hands are damn near trembling but he manages to fix your hair back into the half ponytail. Of course it isn’t as cute as when you did it, but it’ll do.

Ran uses his shirt to wipe your face for you, a little rough but very thorough, he doesn’t miss an inch so your eyebrows and the little bit of concealer you used to cover a couple of dark spots is long gone. He pulls you up into another kiss—a sloppy, messy kiss, the two of you are sucking faces like you’ll never see each other again. You don’t even realize he’s got you onto your back until he’s between your legs, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties. He’s peeling the damp cotton away from your folds and down the length of your legs, placing kisses against your calves as he slips the panties over your feet.

“Mine?” You know exactly what he’s asking for and you contemplate telling him no until Ran runs his warm tongue up your slit, pulling the hood back with his thumb and sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Mhm, keep em.”

His mouth morphs into a small smirk. You’d probably think he was an absolute fucking weirdo if you knew what he did with the panties he’s collected from you. His hands are trailing up your sides, resting against yours until they’re moving to place them on his head. Your nails move against his scalp, threading between those loose strands and gathering them up and out of his face.

He’s pushing your legs up higher, your thighs are pressing into your belly, knees right up under your tits. Ran was on cloud 9 right now. Every breath is filled with your scent, tongue coated in your essence as he’s licking up and down your cunt, even sticking his tongue in and fucking you with it for moments at a time.

Then he’s got two of those long, nimble fingers knuckle deep, pussy swallowing them up as he slides them deeper and clenching when he pulls them out. He’s rubbing your clit with the cream coated digits, fitting his tongue into your cunt and slurping up the wetness that leaks out, blessing you with those sloppy licks until he’s trailing lower and lower.

“Mmmfff…wait that’s my-“

He almost laughs at the squeak you let out when his thick tongue begins lathering your asshole with spit. Licking and prodding, so sloppy and slippery from your own juices running down. You taste so good, so clean and fresh and he won’t let a drop go to waste. It doesn’t feel like much to be honest but the act itself is so nasty, so profane, and it just turns you on so fucking much.

His tongue is licking and prodding at your ass, just until it gives for him, until he’s able to-.

“Fucckkkk.” You cry out in pain and pleasure. He slips a finger into your ass, lips wrapped around your clit again and you’re wondering if it’d be weird to start planning your wedding so soon.

You love how nasty he is, how he eats your pussy and ass with no issue, without you even having to ask. He does it cause he wants to. Does it cause he likes pleasing you too. You’re clenching on his finger as he fucks you with it, biting your lip to keep from letting out the most obscene of moans.

“Ran…g’nna cum.”

He pops his lips away from your clit, spitting on the bud and running his tongue around it.

“Yeah, gonna cum all over my face.”

It’s not a question, he’s certainly telling you, but you whimper out a pathetic attempt at answering him as he sucks your fat clit up between his lips again. It feels so good and you’re so sensitive that, that’s all you need to come undone. Your toes are curled indefinitely and he doesn’t let up until trickles of clear liquid flood his mouth, wetting his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Your legs are trembling in the air, buckling against his hold as you spray your release over the bottom of his face, a fountain of your essence and he tries his best to drink it all up.

Your breathing is hard, sporadic even and he doesn’t even give you a chance to catch it when he’s folding you up again, both hands at the back of your knees as he slides in slowly.

“F-fuck.” You stutter as he bottoms out, the thick tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every roll of his hips. He’s staring at you amusedly—your face is scrunched up like you wanna cry, you’re gasping for air like a fish out of fucking water, the whites of your eyes on full display. Lips parted and dry. And even still, he can’t help but think how pretty you are. How he wants to see you make that dumb little face every time he fucks you stupid.

“You love this dick?” The way Ran fucks you is so sensual, giving you those slow, deep strokes you love so fucking much. Leaning over to kiss and nip at your shoulder and jaw just like a lover would.

“F-fuck yessss…I love it..I love y-you.”

His dick is deep in your pussy, so deep it should be a sin, kissing your cervix with every single roll of his hips. It feels so forbidden—sneaky links shouldn’t fuck like this, but it’s so damn good, so dizzying you don’t even catch your mistake.

The smell of him, his voice, his sexy ass face—you’re in love with every aspect of him, everything about him.

In love with a stranger.

It’s just a slip up. That’s what he’s telling himself as he pulls out and rolls you onto your belly because staring at your pretty ass face has him wanting to cum in you and say it back. To be fair, he loves your pussy just as much. The first and only pussy he ever ate was yours and you’re the first he’s ever fucked raw.

“Good girl,” He’s got a rhythm going, and he’s stuffing you full of dick every time you throw your ass back on him. “Don’t run from it.”

He’s cooing and talking nasty as he fills you with all eight inches, telling you you’re a good girl. His good girl. His baby. His slut. And it’s fine cause you’ll be anything as long as it’s his. His thrusts are getting harder, sloppier as he nears his end. He can’t keep his hands off of your ass. Your mocha colored skin rippling against ever thrust, every slap of his heavy palm against your rear.

You think he must think he’s a fucking artist the way he enjoys painting your lovely skin with his cum. In reality, he’s marking you, laying claim over you like an absolute animal. Drips of translucent white run down your butt, settling into the dimples of your back, some running down the crack of your ass. He grabs that same shirt to clean you off, avoiding your pussy.

“You definitely did a number on me.” You turn to show him the marks on your hips. There’s more on your neck, he notices, you’ll see them once you’re in front of a mirror. His thumbs are ghosting over the faint purple bruises on your skin. He never intends to leave those marks on you, but you bruise so easily even when he thinks he’s being gentle. It’s exactly why you deserve someone who’ll treat you better, handle you better. Someone who’ll really be gentle & make love to you, since he only knows how to fuck.

“Gonna shower.” He hears you say after you gather your clothes from the floor. You gather his too and toss them into the 3-compartment hamper, separating his black pants from his grey boxers.

He doesn’t see it, and you’re glad he doesn’t. You still felt a bit iffy about the lasagna situation and you really didn’t want him to think you were overstepping your boundaries. “You brought clothes or you need something to put on?” He’s still sprawled out on the bed, arm over his eyes. The cool air has him fully softened, and you love that he’s that comfortable.

“Yeah, I packed some stuff cause I didn’t know if you’d feel like taking me back home tonight after picking me up, since I stay kinda far.”

“I would’ve.” He shrugs, finally sitting up. “But you can stay if you want.”

“Do you want me to stay?” Your back is to him, as you’re shuffling through your bag to pull out a towel, panties and the oversized shirt you brought. It’s the first time he’s ever offered you to stay at his place, but you’re hoping it’s because he wants you to, otherwise you feel like a bother.

“Sure, I don’t care.”

It’s not the answer you’re hoping for and your mood dampened. He watches as you step into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

***

He’s slouched over the railing of the balcony, smoking and enjoying the cool air. At least, that’s what he should’ve been doing—instead his mind is moving a mile a minute, his blunt long forgotten as he gaslights himself into disregarding what you said earlier.

He knows it’s the worst thing you could’ve ever said to him and hoped you didn’t mean it, but in actuality, he loved hearing it. Loved watching your pretty lips contort to say it and couldn’t fathom the thought of hearing you say it to anyone that wasn’t him.

Ran sighs heavily as the voice in the back of his mind scolds him. He felt like he was losing his shit. It was selfish, yet uncontrollable and he couldn't help himself. You were like a drug he didn’t want to give up. But this needed to stop.

He knew it would ruin you both.

He doesn’t expect to feel you wrap your arms around him, it startles him a bit and he almost drops his blunt. “You okay? Whatcha thinking about?”

He shakes his head, offering you the joint, which you take. “Just business stuff.”

It's really you on my mind It's really you on my mind It's really you…

Frank Ocean’s voice is oozing out from the sliver of space in between the glass door and it’s frame and the irony is almost baffling, so much that he has to chuckle as he blows smoke into the cool night air.

“You ever had sex out here?” He looks over to see you on your tip toes, leaning further over the edge to see more of the view.

“You want me to fuck you out here?” He answers your question with a question, moving closer until his crotch is pressed right up against your ass.

Your skin—and the entire bathroom for that matter, smells just like vanilla, he’s wondering if you actually wear perfume or if it’s just that body wash that sticks to you so well. Either way you smell so good, so yummy that he’s dying to bend you over this balcony and run his tongue over every inch of you. Instead, he opts for pressing his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Maybe.” You say after blowing smoke in the air and reaching behind until he grabs the blunt from between your pointy nails. “But it’s cold as hell out here.” In a matter of minutes it feels like the weather has dropped a couple dozen degrees and the cool wind makes it hard to keep the blunt lit. You both reside back into the bedroom and he closes the door behind the both of you, he heads to the kitchen while you settle into his bed to get some homework done.

He plops the chunk of lasagna onto a plate, sitting it into the microwave and letting it go for about a minute and thirty.

While that’s heating up, he’s washing out your bowl and turning it over in the adjacent sink to drip dry.

It’s so fucking good. He doesn’t even remember the last time he ate something home cooked. While he’s indulging in the stack of savory carbs, you have your headphones over your ears doing a case study assignment and listening to a lofi playlist. In your peripheral you see him on Tinder, and the fact that he’s sitting inches away from you, eating the lasagna you made and still swiping on bitches sours your mood even more, so much that you’re pulling your headphones off and shifting your entire body to face him.

“You still be on there?”

You don’t want to seem nosey, or delusional or whatever else somebody might call you, but your profile has been hidden for at least a month now, and the app deleted. After fucking with Ran you haven’t even thought of meeting another man.

“Here and there.” He shrugs, locking his phone and tossing it on the side table. “When I’m bored.”

“When you’re bored.” You repeat it and yup, it sounds just as absurd coming out your mouth. “Have you fucked anyone else since our little arrangement?”

“Nah, haven’t really thought about it. What’s with all the questions?” He gives you one of those slow blinks and it pisses you off even more.

“Just curious. I-I just wanna know what we are. Like, where I stand in your life, I guess.”

“From my knowledge, we’re just two people that fuck. Not really friends with benefits cause I don’t fuck friends-.” His words are like a jab in the gut.

“But you asked for friends with benefits, now we’re not friends?” “I said no strings attached, not friends with benefits.”

“No strings attached. Right.” It kills you to repeat it. “So in other words, I don’t mean shit to you.” You’re closing your laptop and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Just someone you text when you wanna bust a nut, got it.”

It’s the farthest from the truth and it nearly shatters his heart to hear you utter such nonsense as he watches you stuff your belongings back into your bag. But, what exactly could he say?

He wasn’t looking for anything serious and he doesn’t fuck friends—you were in a category of your own, even if he didn’t quite know what that category was. Either way, he doesn’t expect you to react the way that you do and he considers damage control but knows he shouldn’t.

It’d just confuse the both of you, he knows it.

***

hey

yo?

???

These messages have been green and undelivered for months now. They probably will be for the rest of his life but Ran can’t bring himself to stop checking them every so often.

“Come on man, you’re still not over what’s-her-face?”

Ran, usually so sharp and alert, doesn’t even know how long his younger brother has been standing there. He just hopes not long enough to have seen him scrolling up and down your old messages. All the way up to when he asked for more photos of you since you didn’t have many on your profile. Scrolling down to where you asked for more of him and of course he didn’t have many either, but he still found himself opening up his camera to take more for you. Every ‘wyd’ or ‘I’m outside’ and every ‘drive safe.’ He read through them all, and recalls ever single moment he’s had with you. “Do you live to fucking annoy me?”

“Just saying. There’s plenty of pussy in the sea. Plenty of women too. Come on man, it’s a big night for us.” Oh how Ran loved the way life worked. Constantly putting off spending time with you to focus on the club, now the club is finally opening for its first night and he couldnt be bothered to care. He can’t get you off his mind.

“Yeah..just a couple hundred people I gotta play friendly with all damn night.” The older brother sighs. Ran’s tone is so emotionless, so dull it’s like talking to a shell of him. It kills Rindou to see that he still hasn’t gotten over whoever the hell you were.

Ran was always so secretive & Rindou is actually a little annoyed because had he known who you were he would’ve personally begged you on his hands and knees to take his brother back.

“It’ll be well worth it in the end, just tend to VIP sections, I’ll keep everyone else entertained.” The two bump fists before parting ways.

The first VIP section that catches his eye is a group of women and he assumed someone was celebrating a birthday, judging by the big metallic pink ‘25’ balloons, so of course he wants to be there one bearing the gifts. A limited edition pink bottle of Clase Azul, champagne for a toast and a bouquet of pink roses are in his hands as he makes his way to the table.

“Ladies.” He greets you and your friends. “Enjoying yourselves?”

Ran thinks he’s seeing things when his eyes meet yours, and he can’t tell if the universe is working for or against him.

You look so fucking gorgeous in your satin pink dress, it hugs your curves but slouches in all the right areas giving the illusion of wet silk draped against your body. Your makeup is beautiful, lips glossy, nails done, even your hair is sexy as hell—jet black buss down, or whatever the fuck it’s called, and it’s way past your ass. Long enough to pull. Fuck, he misses pulling your hair. He misses you.

“Beautiful bottle for a beautiful lady. Happy birthday.” He plays it cool but his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

“Thank you.” You can feel your cheeks raising and you’re not sure if it’s because of the compliment or the free liquor. It took you months to forget about this very man only to have him catch you completely off guard on the night of your birthday. He looks good, so good you can’t help but stare. He’s stopped dyeing his hair, more of his natural black has grown out, and he has most of it pulled back in a messy high pony. He’s still into oversized clothes, donning a white shirt that was at least two sizes too big, black jeans and a flannel around his waist.

When you grab the bottle from his hand, the tips of your nails graze his hand and Ran wonders if it’s crazy to miss them running down his back too. Both of you are surrounded by your friends, guests and workers in the club but it really feels like it’s just the two of you.

He’s looking you up and down, drinking you in amongst the dim lighting and he can’t imagine how he fumbled you. He pops the bottle of champagne effortlessly, pouring you a glass and doing the same for your four friends, then himself.

“To Y/N. More life to you.”

He’s the last one you clank your glass with, your face warms up as you can feel his eyes bearing down on your as you finally take your first sip. Sweet and bubbly is how you’d describe it, most champagne’s are too dry for your liking, that much he remembers.

“Can we talk?”

Even after sharing some of your most intimate moments with him, it still felt like talking to a stranger.

“Sure.”

You tell your friends you’ll be back and then he’s leading you through the long corridor to a lavish office. This is Ran we’re talking about so you wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Been a while.” He speaks after closing the door behind the both of you. Ran hates small talk, yet here he is trying his best to spark up a conversation with you. In the fluorescent lighting he notices you’ve lost weight too, hopes it’s cause you wanted to and not stress or anything like that. “Didn’t know today was your birthday.”

“You didn’t care to remember. I would’ve never guessed you owned this club.” You sigh, leaning against his desk, shifting your weight off of your feet. These heels were cute as hell but they were literally murder on your ankles and the balls of your feet. “How have you been?”

It was his turn to sigh. “I don’t know, just been busy with the club, it was keeping me distracted. Keeping you off my mind.” If Ran wasn’t anything else, he was always honest, especially with you.

Silence. The silence is smothering the both of you in unresolved tension and it only gets thicker as you contemplate what to even say to that. “Why would I be on your mind?”

“What? You’re always on my mind. Every time I think about you, I fucking miss you. But I know I fucked up so-“

“No, you did nothing wrong, nothing at all. When we first started messing around we agreed to no strings attached, no I love you’s, no feelings. But I fucked all of that up and I fell for you..and you didn’t catch me.” You twiddled with your thumbs, knowing when he asked to ‘talk’ this was coming sooner or later. “I wanted you so bad I was fine just being your friend, but to know I wasn’t even that, it hurt. It hurt so bad I thought I’d never get over you, until I realized that I was settling.”

He’s taken aback to say the least. “Settling? I made you feel like you were settling? What was it that I didn’t have? That I didn’t give you? Money, status?”

His expression is shocked, crazed even, and it feels so good to get some kind of emotion out of him other than indifference. But, you’re past this phase, and you no longer wanted to be involved with him romantically. Probably not even sexually to be honest. “Have I ever asked you for money, Ran?”

Truthfully, you were probably the only woman he’s dealt with that didn’t ask him for money.

“You never asked me for anything. How would I know what you wanted?” By now he felt defeated, pathetic, like he was pleading and you weren’t hearing him.

“When you find the girl that’s for you, that special girl, she won’t even have to ask.”

He feels like it’d be crazy to admit that he thinks you’re that girl. That he knew you were special since the first night he met you. That he was just afraid of commitment and that’s why he pushed you away.

This wasn’t like losing a friend, no, he knows that far too well. This was like losing a lover. A foreign feeling and he’s not entirely sure why, but it hurts. It hurts so bad.

You prop your arms on his shoulders, reaching a hand behind him, looping one of your fingers around his hair-tie and slipping it out. He makes no move to stop you as his hair falls around his face, a curtain of black and gold. “Still so pretty.” You place your hands on either side of his face, soft fingertips running against his milky skin. It’s like you’re teasing him with those gentle gestures, only to rip his heart out in the end.

“Take care, Ran.”

There’s burning in his throat and he wants to scream. To punch something.

But you’re smiling up at him so cutely and he’s given no choice but to crack a fake smile for you too as he pulls you into his arms for the last time.

Is this closure? Is it supposed to make him feel worse than he would’ve had he chose to not speak to you at all? Is this how you felt?

In the end, he can’t even be mad. He wasn’t ready, but he had no clue how much it’d hurt when you didn’t wait for him. He squeezes you tighter and wants to hold you, feel you, even smell you just a little bit longer, but he hears a knock on his door and he knows it’s time to free you. To free himself from the shackles you kept around his heart whether you knew it or not.

“Take care, y/n.”

❀

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