Rich Boy Gojo Latest Obsession: Spider Woman Aka You

champagne for my real friends – (ran x reader ft. bonten)

a/n: this took forever to finish but i'm happy with how it turned out!!! also this is so humiliating but i literally forgot to write in mochi please don't hate me oh my GOD

content: LIL BIT NSFW!!! JUST SOME MENTIONS OF PAST STUFF!!! drunk!ran, pregnant!reader, bonten members, alcohol/drinking, last but not least there is so much swearing idk how else to write these folks i'm sorry lmaooo just a little meet the bontens fic :')

word count: 4.7k

(( this is a part of my boyfriendification/daddyfication of ran haitani universe please check out the original fics if you're interested! :) ))

"haitani," sanzu calls across the table. everyone's attention shifts over to him. "sorry," he says to rindou. "big haitani."

rindou rolls his eyes at the descriptor. ran chuckles and jerks his chin in sanzu's direction, silently indicating to him to proceed.

"what ever happened with your girl's pregnancy scare?"

there are a few exclamations or remarks in agreement: "shit, yeah!" "oh right, what did happen with that?"

"not a scare," ran tries to conceal a grin. "she's pregnant."

there are a few shocked sounds. he continues, "and we're gonna have the kid."

"shut the fuck up," kakucho's jaw hangs open in shock. takeomi, sitting to ran's left, claps him on the back in congratulations. "is he serious??" koko asks, looking not to ran, but to the more trustworthy rindou beside him, who nods. "that's not fair!" sanzu whines, throwing a childish pout toward ran. "why do you tell rindou everything first?"

"that's a dumb fucking question," koko scoffs, earning a shove from sanzu. ran snorts and takes a long drink.

suddenly, mikey raises his glass. the table goes silent, all eyes looking to him. "congratulations, haitani," he says with a small smile on his lips. "that's big news." everyone else raises their cups, celebrating ran's announcement.

ran hadn't realized how much mikey's approval would mean to him. he knew at some point he'd have to tell everyone. that they'd have to meet to discuss the logistics and the security risks of ran having a family, make sure his pregnant girlfriend and future baby would remain undiscoverable by rival organizations. but he had expected it to just be that: a topic for an executives meeting. never would he have expected mikey to congratulate him on the news, too.

"shots," ran slams a hand on the table. "on me. for everyone. mikey?" mikey hesitates but nods his agreement. "fuck yeah, great." ran waves to the bartender and in moments, they're all being handed shots of whiskey.

ran haitani was not a lightweight; the man could drink. as much as everyone else, and then some. typically, on these nights out for a drink with bonten, he would barely even get buzzed. when things at work got overwhelming, the guys had gotten in the habit of walking to the bar near their office together to vent about everything and have a beer. there were always brushes with law enforcement, court dates, dodged attacks on cargo, and this past week, a near miss involving an unmarked black van trying to run mikey's car off the road. none of this was unusual in bonten's world, but it took its toll when the events started to pile up. mikey had even been the one to suggest getting drinks tonight, signaling that even their leader was on edge: something that rarely happened.

when mikey went out to drink with his subordinates, they tried to keep it more on the professional side. nobody drank until he did, all cues were taken directly from his actions. but mikey had announced that congratulations were in order and something had switched in ran's brain. he was celebrating tonight.

after the first round of shots, he insisted on another. mikey was in a surprisingly good mood, always having been a sucker for happy announcements, and seemed perfectly content as ran ordered more shots and bottles and rounds of drinks.

as the hours passed, what began as a beer after work had become a rowdy, drunken night out. the table soon became the loudest in the bar, though the bartenders and owner recognized the mysterious tattoo they all donned and didn't dare say a word. the drunkest of them all, though, was ran.

"i'm really gonna be a fuckin' dad," he slurs, leaning into rindou's side, eyes on kakucho. "a cool dad, though. like, so fuckin' cool. imagine how cool i'll be as a dad. rin? yo, imagine it, man."

"jesus, slow down, dumbass," rindou shoves ran off of him as his older brother lifts his 5th? maybe 6th?? shot to lips. "how many is that now?"

"6," kakucho answers rindou from across the table, seeming sober enough to be trusted. ran snorts out a laugh and downs the dark liquor anyway.

he folds his long arms onto the table and rests his chin on them like a little kid. "you ever want kids?" he asks to no one in particular.

"you're so fucked up, man," takeomi chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

ran gives him look like he has no idea what he's talking about. mikey is watching with amusement, always intrigued by the behavior of his men outside of work and especially when they let loose in their personal lives.

"get him home, rin," koko nudges rindou.

"fuck no," rindou scowls. "i'm not his babysitter. he's an adult."

"he's trashed," kakucho indicates to where ran has almost fallen asleep at the table.

"should we call his girlfriend?"

everyone's heads whip toward sanzu, who's got the most devious grin on his face.

kakucho is the first to object to the idea, "he'd kill us for that."

"who am i killing?" ran lifts his head an inch. rindou rolls his eyes. the table falls silent as everyone continues to think it over.

"listen," sanzu raises his hands casually. "he's so gone right now, he'll probably just be happy as fuck when he sees his girl show up, right? and none of you have ever even met her! aren't you curious??"

"that's a good point," koko smirks. "fuck it, gimme his phone."

rindou lifts ran's phone from where it sits on the table between him and his brother and holds it up to ran's face. "ran, look up," he instructs. his brother turns slightly, blinks at the screen, and the phone unlocks. rindou places it into kokonoi's outstretched hand.

"hey, hang on," ran pushes himself back so that he's sitting up properly, almost sending the whole chair tumbling backwards. takeomi steadies it with an irritated huff.

koko easily finds your texts– they're pinned to the top of ran's messages. all of the bonten members have become familiar with your name, and there it is under a picture of you, saved with a single fiery heart emoji beside it. "let me call her," sanzu taps koko on the shoulder. "she's met me. it'll scare the shit out of her if you call."

koko looks up as if ready to protest, but mikey gives him a stern look that says listen to sanzu. so he does, handing the phone over obediently.

you answer on the second ring, voice slightly sleepy, "hi, baby."

"hey, sweetheart!" comes a voice that is definitely not ran's. "sorry to startle you. it's haruchiyo, 'member me?"

you feel your stomach drop. why on earth would one of ran's colleagues be calling you from ran's phone? "is ran okay?" you ask quickly.

"he sure is!" sanzu laughs like you've told him a joke. "but he's also piss fuckin' drunk."

"who the fuck is that?" ran's focus settles on sanzu's phone call. he balls the back of rindou's shirt in his fist, "who's he talking to?"

rindou roughly shakes off his brother's grip, "don't grab me. calm the fuck down."

"jesus christ..." you groan, hearing the exchange in the background of the call. "should i... would it be okay if i come to get him?"

"i think that would be a great idea. i hope it's not too much trouble!"

"no, he's always trouble," you scoff, though it comes across fondly. "i'll be there soon. haruchiyo, would you mind texting me the address?"

"sure thing, babe. we'll see you soon." he hangs up before you can clarify who exactly we entails.

once you've gotten the call from sanzu, you don't want to waste any time. luckily, you haven't gotten into pajamas yet; you're still in comfortable clothes from earlier that day. you grab a bottle of water from the fridge and toss a bottle of painkillers in your bag before heading out to your car.

you follow the map to the location sanzu has sent: a divey little bar only a block from ran's office. when you don't see his car in the parking lot, you assume he must've walked. at least the batmobile was safely in the parking structure at the bonten building.

it wasn't often that ran got drunk. try as you might, you couldn't actually remember a time when he'd been less sober than you. usually it was him who took your drunk ass home and played nurse. you inhale deeply to steel your nerves and head out into the cold night air.

the bar is warm, thankfully. it's dimly lit and bustling, almost every table and seat is full. the clack of a billiards game can barely be heard over the loud voices and the sound of the radio. eyeing the crowd, you notice that there's a clear division between one table in the back and the rest of the patrons. and at that table is a bright pink head of hair belonging to a man who you notice is waving you over.

you step carefully through the crowded bar, making your way toward sanzu and the bonten members. as you approach, you recognize the back of ran's long, lean body, sitting with his head propped up on his elbow.

"she's here! our savior!" sanzu exclaims, beaming at you. the five other men at the table turn to look at you. ran doesn't move. "just the ran haitani rescue team," you joke awkardly, earning a grin from the man at the other end of the table who you assume has to be mikey based on... well, everything about him.

sanzu motions around the table, quickly introducing the men: takeomi, kakucho, mikey, kokonoi, rindou. "nice to meet you," you nod respectfully and introduce yourself.

"and, of course, you know this ugly motherfu–" "can you be fuckin' polite, shithead??" koko elbows sanzu sharply. you try and fail to hold in a chuckle. "i know him well," you reply, unfazed. stepping forward, you kneel beside ran to get a look at his face. his eyes are closed, his cheek smushed into the hand that he's resting on.

"ran? wake up, hon."

his eyes crack open. when he recognizes you he smiles, "wow, hey, baby. where'd you come from?? look at you, you look so good. you're so pretty."

"and you're so drunk," you counter, cupping his cheek. ran's smile deepens at the touch, turning his head to kiss your hand. the movement causes his head to slip from his hand and hit the table with a thunk. the rest of the table howls with laughter.

"shit," ran raises his head, nearly chuckling himself. "come kiss it, baby." you lean in to kiss his forehead and he becomes jello, all his weight tumbling toward you.

you stand up to intercept his falling body with your own. he stays there, leaning against your side, eyes falling shut again. you run a hand along his shoulders lovingly. "i should get him home," you tell everyone. "thanks for calling me, haruchiyo. i appreciate it." sanzu winks, waving his hand: it was nothing.

"sorry, would someone mind giving me a hand with him?" you ask sheepishly, nearly laughing out loud when every single member of bonten rises from his seat.

takeomi throws one of ran's arm over his shoulder and pulls him up. ran is practically dead weight as takeomi shuffles him away from the table. kakucho comes around to ran's other side and does the same thing. together, the two men have no trouble carrying drunk ran to the door. "i'll supervise," sanzu follows them through the bar, scarred mouth tugging up into a delighted smile.

"nice meeting you all," you wave slightly to mikey, koko, and rindou, all of whom are still standing, watching their colleague being carried out of the bar. they nod their heads politely to you and you hurry to catch up with takeomi, kakucho, and sanzu.

"where do you–"

"which car, sweetheart?" sanzu asks, cutting off takeomi.

"sanzu... fuckin' kill you..." ran grumbles upon hearing sanzu call you sweetheart. he lurches forward but takeomi and kakucho are holding on tight.

you jog ahead to your car and open the door.

they help you fold ran's long limbs into the passenger seat until he's curled up and cozy against the upholstery. the four of you stare at him sleeping soundly for a moment.

"hey, i've got a great idea!" sanzu exclaims. "you should come back in and have a drink with us."

"thank you, that's very sweet, but–"

"she can't drink, she's pregnant, dipshit," kakucho rolls his eyes at sanzu.

"oh? you... oh..." you sputter. "...you know?"

"he told us tonight," takeomi gives you a genuine smile. "congratulations, by the way."

"thank you," you return the expression, hand coming up to rest on ran's shoulder, smoothing the fabric of his shirt nervously.

"well, at least come have a soda," sanzu bargains. "you can have soda, right? bubbles won't ruin the whole–" he gestures vaguely to your abdomen. "–project?" you can't help but laugh, "yeah, soda's fine."

"then come on in," he reaches to pat your shoulder tenderly. "we're all dying to know anything about you. ran doesn't tell us shit."

you give ran a questioning look out of habit, but he's out cold.

a soft mmm leaves his lips as you run your fingers through his hair, combing it out of his face. "tired, baby?" you ask. he nods wordlessly, eyes still closed. "okay, rest up a little. i'll be back soon."

you follow takeomi, sanzu, and kakucho back into the bar and straight to the table you'd found them at earlier.

"look who's back!" koko exclaims, the surprise evident in his voice.

sanzu presents you to the rest of the men with wide arms, like you're an answer in a game show puzzle.

smiling in a way that you hope doesn't come off as nervous or awkward, you give them another wave. the bonten members who had helped you get ran out to the car reclaim their seats around the table. ran's open chair sits before you, sandwiched between takeomi and one of the only other people you had recognized apart from sanzu: ran's brother, rindou.

you and rindou had met a handful of times, mostly briefly, but all pleasant. despite how much they bickered, you knew ran and rindou were incredibly close and deeply important to each other. ran would never admit it, but rindou's approval of you had been quite important to him. not quite a dealbreaker, but really fucking close.

luckily, from the first time you met the much more subdued and serious younger haitani, you'd immediately gotten along. you had respected rindou's quiet stoicism, the way he closely surveyed situations and people. rindou, on the other hand, appreciated your bubbly nature. he liked how kindly you spoke to him despite his cold facade, and knew that someone like that would be perfect for his brother who also tended to hide his true feelings from others. though ran chose to hide them behind a pearly white smirk. it didn't hurt that you also laughed when rindou made snarky remarks to his brother, and that you even teased ran a bit yourself.

rindou motions to the seat beside him, hoping to ease your obvious nervousness with a familiar face and a welcoming gesture. you sit beside him gratefully. though you and rin weren't particularly close, knowing he was ran's family who he trusted with his life, made him comforting company.

on your other side is takeomi, whom you'd only just met. he seems slightly older than the rest of bonten, and less amused by their shenanigans. from what ran had told you about him, he was much more of a veteran in their world, starting young as a founding member of a gang until now, where he's practically got a hand in every major crime organization in tokyo because of his knack for gathering intel and vast knowledge of the business.

what put you the most at ease, though, was the fact that ran always assured you that takeomi was not a bad guy. ran openly admitted to the fucked up shit he had carried out in his past, as well as that of the other bonten members (which, of course, was all top secret information you'd never share) but he always said that takeomi didn't roll like that. his official title was advisor because at his core– what he did best– was give advice. and apparently he knew what he preached perfectly well, he just didn't practice it himself.

he lights up a cigarette and sits back quietly, observing. surprisingly, mikey is the first to speak. "i wish i could say we've heard so much about you," he speaks in a soft voice, a slight grin on his lips.

"ran is ran," you shrug apologetically. "but i'm here now! i'd love to know more about you all, too."

"first," koko pushes his chair back from the table. "what are you drinking?"

"coke, please," you smile and he heads for the bar. looking back to the table, you add, "it is kind of shit that i can't do shots with my man anymore."

"or your man's friends," sanzu grins, pouring the rest of koko's beer into his own glass. "so, tell us everything."

"everything?"

"yeah, life story." you look over at takeomi and he smirks to indicate that he's kidding.

"jesus, don't stress her out," rindou mumbles, sipping on his beer. "fuckin' weirdos..." you pat his arm in a quiet thanks and possibly catch him grinning as he nods back.

"what kind of stuff do you want to know?" you lean back in your chair slightly, looking around at the faces of the men surrounding you. at ran's closest colleagues and friends. your mind goes to ran, wishing he was here with you while you meet bonten for the first time, holding your hand reassuringly, fielding questions like your own personal bodyguard/PR rep.

"where did you guys meet?" kakucho asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

your mind flashes to the bathroom of club octagon where ran, who you'd known for 10 total minutes, had bent you over the countertop and rutted into your sopping core as he groaned filthy words in your ear.

"we were out with friends," you say, not a lie. "and we started talking."

"out where?" sanzu's eyes sparkle with mischief.

koko gives him an amused look and tells you, "sanzu's the fuckin' coked up prince of tokyo nightlife. you name it, he's been there."

"it was octagon."

"fuckin' love that place," he leans back in his chair, satisfied with the answer. to mikey he adds, "i fucked a girl in the bathroom there once."

mikey nods, unimpressed, while you try to maintain a poker face.

"why haven't we met you yet?" koko gives you a little pout. "haitani's keeping his princess locked in a tower or some shit?"

"weird that he wouldn't even introduce you to his brother," kakucho nods.

"we've met," you and rindou say at the same time.

"NOT FUCKIN' FAIR!" koko wails. takeomi visibly winces at the dramatics, making you smile. the dynamic between the bonten members seemed a lot like a little family, despite the dark undercurrent that seemed to connect them all.

"can i ask something a bit personal?" mikey speaks suddenly, dark eyes boring into yours from across the table. the way everyone goes silent when mikey has something to say nearly makes you shudder. you nod enthusiastically, wondering what it might be.

"have you given any thought to baby names yet?"

there's no indication that he's kidding at all. his genuine curiosity is endearing, even despite the whole silencing every other person at the table with just a look thing.

you nod, "probably ran jr."

nobody says a word.

"i'm kidding."

with the admission, the tipsy bonten members break; every single one of them howls with laughter. even mikey is chuckling at the joke.

"fuck haitani," kakucho grumbles. "i want a cool girlfriend, too, man..."

"why the fuck would any cool women ever date you with that face?" sanzu blurts through a laugh.

"who the fuck are you even talking to, dude?!" kakucho is laughing despite the subtle hostility in their back and forth.

someone orders another round of shots and soon the men are acting even looser, talking loudly and laughing with you like they've known you for years. you all sit talking, answering their questions, for a long while. their conversation moves so quickly, it doesn't feel like any time has passed at all, though.

"biggest thing in bonten is loyalty," takeomi is suddenly lecturing beside you. you can't help but find his older brother aura quite endearing. "so, you know, i'm sure ran has said it, but you're his one and fuckin' only."

you smile to yourself, nodding along to the man's words, "right. i definitely know that. and–"

"what the fuck is going on here?"

your head whips around to the familiar voice behind you. ran is standing a few feet back, swaying slightly. his violet eyes are so dark they're almost black, filled with confusion and rage. his eyebrows are drawn together, the only indication on his perfect poker face that indicates how he's feeling.

"baby," you stand up immediately. "you–"

"haitani!" sanzu cries fondly. "you're back from the dead!" he balls up a napkin from the table and tosses it at ran who swats it away.

"how do you feel?" you ask, now at his side. checking the time on your phone, you add, "you slept for a while."

he says nothing, just glares at the bonten executives seated around the table. the sleep had done him some good; he no longer felt like the room was spinning now, and could actually create a coherent thought. but now that his mind wasn't so cloudy, it was running wild with every possible thing the guys might have said to you. the jokes they might have made, the dark secrets they could have disclosed. were you okay? he worried. embarrassed? upset? scared?

"your girl's a delight, haitani."

ran focuses his gaze on his mikey as he continues, "you're forgiven for keeping her a secret for so long."

looking down at you, ran studies your face to make sure the calm expression is genuine. ran leans down to kiss your forehead. you're smiling when he looks at you again.

"should we get you home, honey?" your hand wraps around his, your sweet voice like music to his ears.

"it was really nice getting to talk with you guys," you turn back to the table of bonten's upper echelon. there's still a smile on your face, but ran remains skeptical. then the men are all waving enthusiastically, absolutely gushing out their goodbyes to you. ran snorts out a smug "have some self respect, boys."

"yeah, sure. fuckin' gloat," kakucho leans back in his seat, crossing his arms.

"you're such a child," rin sneers, shaking his head at his friend.

ran's arm wraps around your waist, the movement both territorial and because he was still wobbly and needed the support. "goodnight," he gives bonten a small wave of his fingers. "don't stay mad forever, kaku, you'll get ugly." takeomi holds the half drunk kakucho back with one arm while you and ran turn and head for the door.

the night outside the bar feels even colder than when you'd entered the bar earlier, and you cling to ran instinctively. he hesitates just outside the doorway for a moment. "shit, hang on," he nudges you away from him with his arm abruptly. turning on his heel, he promptly vomits into the bushes that line the building's perimeter.

"fuck!" he cries, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and standing up to his full height. breathing heavy, he turns to give you a wild-eyed look and a toothy grin.

"you feel so much better, don't you?" you smile at him.

"like i got a fuckin' exorcism," he says seriously, making you laugh. "i really needed that."

you dig for a tissue and a stick of gum from your purse and you pass them over to ran. the color seems to have returned to his face and he doesn't look quite so out of it.

however, he chooses to focus his newfound attention on you and asks, "so, do you mind telling me what the fuck you're doing here?"

"sanzu called me from your phone and asked me to pick you up because you were really drunk," you take his hand and lead him to your car. he pulls away, "and you listened to him?"

"yes?" you look at him incredulously. "ran, you were shitfaced. i could hear you on the phone."

"i would've sobered up. they just wanted–"

"to meet me?" you cut him off. "is that such a bad thing?"

ran inhales sharply through his nose, watching you cross your arms over your chest. in a kind of demented way, ran liked arguing with you. the way you defiantly talked back to him, raised your voice when you got frustrated, and pouted your lips just the smallest bit: it drove him crazy. ran knew better than to ever try a you're so pretty when you're angry line on you, but it didn't stop him from thinking it.

the dreamy look in his eyes gave him away though. you suddenly sigh, "you're still not 100%. i can tell because you're obviously thinking about something else right now."

he shakes his head, smirking unconvincingly, "i wouldn't do that."

you roll your eyes, though it's lighthearted, "sure, baby. now let me take you home."

when you take his hand again, he allows you to pull him along to your car. "i just don't want you puttin' yourself in bad situations..." ran continues. his voice sounds slightly strained and you can tell it's difficult for him to express these feelings. "scares the shit out of me, like, what if they had said something fucked up, or done something while i wasn't there to look out for you?"

"but it was okay," you hesitate behind your car, holding ran's waist. "it was fine. and i was gonna meet them eventually, right?"

"i guess," he sighs stubbornly.

"everything was good," you take his hands. "they were all perfect gentlemen. i wasn't uncomfortable at all. don't be mad, okay?"

ran bends to kiss you, soft lips melding with yours. he's still a little tipsy and his kisses are messier than you're used to, but you can feel his stress melting away.

you pull apart and get into your car. "you just can't," ran gestures, still not done with the conversation. "can't be so quick to listen to– i mean, any of those guys– but sanzu, of all people, okay??"

you smile and nod, clicking on your seatbelt. ran watches your amused face with frustration "i'm serious! sanzu is legitimately insane."

"ran, stop," you frown at him. "he was very sweet."

"none of those guys are fuckin' sweet!" ran scoffs. "they're in tokyo's largest criminal organization! they've all done terrible things!"

"hey," you give him a chastising look. "i happen to be in a serious relationship with an executive of tokyo's largest criminal organization."

"yeah, and he's an asshole," ran smirks.

"sometimes," you deadpan. ran laughs, reaching over to hold your hand in your lap. "but he loves me."

"you're damn right he does," his hand squeezes yours, thumb running across the back of it lovingly. you can tell he's still frustrated at the events of the evening, but it's fading.

"aren't you kind of glad i came to get you?" you cock your head to one side. "you didn't have to wait at the bar to sober up, i got to be with you at the end of the night..."

ran looks back at you with a look you can't figure out. he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "it was really nice to see you show up."

you smile as he cups your cheek and pulls you close. his lips brush yours softly as he whispers, "i just fuckin' love you. and i worry, alright?"

"i fuckin' love you, too," you kiss his forehead. "let me take you home and put you to bed, okay, baby?"

"deal."

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ F*CK THE LIST

✧.* "SO I HAD SEX WITH ALL THOSE GUYS FOR NO REASON?"

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A continued tale after Gojo Satoru's blackmailing seemed to have much more to it than meets the eye.

[ { NEED TO KNOW } ] ➤ This is a prequel & sequel to my fic; The F*ck List.

[ { WARNINGS } ] ➤ afab!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, alcohol, college non-curse au, toxic altercations & interactions, heavy blackmail, obsession, possessiveness, hints of; stalking. kidnapping, violence, mentions of whore activities, gen z references, & above all; 18+ themes.

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader.

❥ Chapters !

coming soon :)

Notebook doots

KNOCK HIS ASS OUT THOSE SLIPPERS

I wanted to draw denji with longer hair and I think he looks quite nice if I do say so myself

© 히니피앙★★★★★ | do not edit and/or crop logo

Mockingbird

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x F!Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff, lil angst

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Canon divergent, OOC, profanity, bodily harm, gang violence, mentions of gore, casual misogyny, y/n genuinely tries to be a good parental figure, Shin keeps being a simp

You were born rotten, but he had a chance.

pt. 1 | previous | playlist

“If we win, I want your second in command to go out with me!” Shinichiro proudly announced, his hands crossed over his chest with a shit-eating grin.

He heard Wakasa facepalm beside him as a collective groan passed through the Black Dragons.

Tomoe allowed just a flash of bewilderment to mark her face, before she started laughing, hysterically, bending at the waist and clutching her stomach as she leaned on you to not fall.

You heard your members snickering behind you as you stood beside your leader, an unimpressed look plastered on your face as you stared at the man in front of you.

His hair was a fucking embarrassment.

Tomoe straightened up, still giggling, but as soon as she looked at Shiniciro’s face, her hysterical fit of laughter started again.

“Wait, sorry, let me just-“ She barely managed to wheeze out, catching her breath, “Let me just-“

She burst out laughing again.

You sighed, seemingly irritated but with a playful smirk on your lips.

“Y/n, do you accept those conditions?” She somehow got out, breathless and face red from laughter, looking up at you and cackling when she saw your unimpressed face.

“I mean, sure, but,” You licked your lips, eyes passing over Shinichiro’s form, “This isn’t really a gang matter, is it?”

“Oh, you’re right!” Tomoe clapped her hands, having the same thought as you, the shit-eating grin still on her face as she stepped away from you and you just knew she’ll torment you about this later.

“Here, let’s strike a deal, lover boy,” Stepping forward, your hands deep inside the pockets of your pants, you grinned, and you could swear you saw the man gulp, “No need to bring our gangs into our clearly destined love. Let’s do this one-on-one.”

Another groan passed through Black Dragons, and you could swear you heard the tall, dark-skinned man say ‘Great. Now we’ll have to bury him.’

“One-on-one? Cool, second in command versus second in command, let’s do this.” The dark-haired man with a scar standing next to Shinichiro stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with a grin, but Tomoe shook her head.

“You’re not the one tryna take our poor y/n away, are you? Only he*,” She nodded in Shinichiro’s direction, “Can fight for this to a fair deal.”

“Oh well, I tried,” Takeomi shrugged, stepping back, “It was nice knowing you, Shin.”

“Wait!” Shinichiro suddenly exclaimed, pointing a finger at you, “How old are you?”

Amusement twinkled in your eye.

“19.”

Shinichiro swiftly turned to Wakasa, worry written all over his face.

“It wouldn’t be weird to date someone two years younger, right?”

Wakasa looked close to popping a blood vessel.

“I’d really prefer if you were more woRRIED ABOUT THE FACT YOU’RE ABOUT TO FUCKING DIE!”

“Is it weird?”

“NO, YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH, BUT YOU’LL NEVER TAKE HER OUT BECAUSE WE’RE ABOUT TO ORGANISE YOUR FUNERAL!”

Shinichiro shrugged.

“Tell gramps and ‘Zana and Emma and Mikey I love them.”

Wakasa looked utterly and fully done with everything.

“So will we fight, sweetheart?” Stepping closer to Shinichiro with your hands inside your pockets, your smile was infectious.

“Of course!” Grinning, even as his gang let out another prolonged groan, Shinichiro shrugged off his jacket, stepping closer as well.

“Before we do, lover boy,” You sounded too cocky and too excited, but he couldn’t help to find it immensely attractive, “Pick a number between 1 and 7.”

Ah, he knew this one, Wakasa warned him about it.

He also said to never pick 7.

So, naturally…

“Seven!” Confidently crossing his arms, he proudly exclaimed even as silence fell over your up-until-now laughing gang.

Quirking an eyebrow, your face turned inquisitive.

“Are you sure you want that?”

“Positive!”

The huff Takeomi let out from behind him almost muted Tomoe’s serious, muttered command.

“Someone have an ambulance ready.”

Your grin seemed to split your face in half, with too many teeth and a glint in your eye.

The fact that Wakasa already had a prayer circle going wasn’t too encouraging.

“Hey, Shin! What colour flowers do you want on your grave?”

The second your foot connected with his solar plexus, he almost regretted not responding.

The worst part wasn’t even that he got beat up within an inch of his life, the blood from his broken nose seeping down his throat, mixing with saliva and pooling on the inside of his mouth, body full of aches and misery, and at this point, he was sure he at least had a broken rib.

No, that wasn’t the worst of it, and he knew Wakasa, Benkei and Takeomi would laugh at him if they could read his thoughts, but to hell, at least those were private.

The worst was that this truly will be his 21st rejection, and to hell with it, what is he doing wrong?

You fought fast and mean, something ferocious and self-confident in your steps, most of your movements a blur Shinichiro could barely register, not wasting any time on intimidation tactics or chit-chat, even when he asked ‘Nice weather up there?’ when you threw him on the ground, looming above him, before beating the shit out of him all over again.

He tapped your hip three times, signalling defeat, and as you got off him, leaving him alone on the ground, eyes closed, he could hear his members murmuring, asking if he’s alive.

“Well, that concludes our match, ‘twas nice doing business with ya! We will continue sharing the turfs, no problems now, are there?” Tomoe exclaimed, grinning like a mad woman in front of your cheering gang.

Shinichiro flashed a thumbs up, every movement another hellscape of misery for his already aching body.

Wakasa was the first by his side, grabbing his hand to pull him up, anger and worry mixing on his face, but shutting up as soon as he saw Shinichiro’s warning look.

“Come on Shin, get up, not like that bitch was that pretty anyway.”

Before Shinichiro could scold him, silence fell over Dead Snakes again, each and every member cautiously looking at you.

“Well now he’s done it.” Tomoe sighed, seemingly exhausted in a second.

Neither Wakasa nor Shin had enough time to process when you appeared before them, hand reaching and fingers tangling into Wakasa’s hair, getting into his face.

Even as the two of you fought, Shinichiro noted, all to be seen on your face was a mask of smug calmness, not another emotion betrayed, but now, you looked pissed.

Shinichiro took a long breath.

“Well then, let’s have a chat, Imaushi, whatcha think about that? Why are you cowering? Fucking scared?” Sneering, your grip on his hair tightened, “I am not interested in hearing any of your bullshit. That bitch, huh?”

Your face was mere inches from Waka’s, his teeth gritting from the pain as your eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a sadistic smile, voice absolutely furious.

“Let’s be honest, Imaushi, if I was a guy, you’d be begging to suck my dick right here and now. You’d think I’m the coolest fucking guy out there, but oh no, I’ve got a couple of hormones wrong and a slit between my legs, and so I’m just a bitch, aren’t I?”

“Hey-“ Shinichiro tried, but Tomoe stepped in before he could get another word in, her hand gently settling on your shoulder.

“Come on, y/n, we’ve won, he’s just an asshole. Let him go.”

You did as you were told instantly, allowing Wakasa to fall to the ground with a thump.

Tomoe gently wrapped her arm around your shoulder, throwing Wakasa a glare as she started dragging you away, but you stopped her for a second, turning to Shinichiro.

“Hey, loverboy!”

Shinichiro look at you, confused, raising an eyebrow.

“Meet you at the Wandakura Park, Friday, 7 p.m. sharp. Don’t be a minute late or I’m dipping,” Smirking at his bamboozled face, you allowed Tomoe to start walking you to the rest of the gang, not even looking at him as you shouted, “You’re kinda cute with your hair down!”

Shinichiro continued staring for a couple of minutes even after you left, kneeling on the ground, eyes wide and unfocused.

Takeomi poked him with a stick, and even then, all Shinichiro did was turn his head, looking right through him.

“I have a date.” Whispering, Shinichiro finally smirked.

“WITH A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!” Screaming, Wakasa finally stood up, ruffling his hair and cringing at the sensation.

“To be fair,” Benkai started, “She had a point-“

“Not another word, I swear to God.”

. . . next

🔖Taglist (open):

@1818cigarettes @nana-phobia @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @sanzucide @touyasghost @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @somniari-94 @astropheia @rgtgt @bubble-dream-inc @princesshaitani @luvjiro

Modern AU headcanons - Diluc as a wine industry tycoon

Warning: NSFW

Pairing: Diluc x gn reader

You and Diluc have been fortunate enough to be born as the heirs to the wine tycoon business run by your families. The vineyards are flourishing and the company has been passed down from one generation to the next for decades.

Your families have been handling the business matters side by side, fighting back against any adversities. Like a hand in glove, with the core principles being mutual respect and sincerity, the successful partnership has always made their chests swell with pride.

Ever since you were small children, your parents have made it a point to time and time again remind you of the importance of the family business and the well-fortified trust between your ancestors. You had to attend extra lessons, read lots of books or meet other wine specialists to gather the necessary knowledge to take over the wine empire.

The time has finally come and your parents have deemed both of you ready to be in charge of the family-run business.

The hitch is, though, that you and Diluc are far from being happy to share the ownership of the world-famous winery. But, it wasn’t always the case. In the past, one could say that you were perhaps too inseparable, leaving Diluc’s step-brother behind. However, as time went by, the connection was gradually lost and now it only remains a bitter-sweet memory.

Diluc, for reasons known only to himself, finds you unfit for the task of being a co-owner of the company. He despises the idea of running the business together with you and bluntly criticises you in front of your family members.

Nevertheless, your parents have already settled on a plan of action, giving you an ultimatum to mend the fences and prove to them that you’re worthy of inheriting the winery tycoon.

„You have a month to end this childish nonsense.”

Diluc’s father informs adjusting the knot in his tie. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Diluc’s pouty face. He looks stiffened like a wooden wine rack and that mental connotation alone sends you into a fit of stifled giggles. Diluc’s eyes express a mix of annoyance and repulsion once he reluctantly peers at you from the opposite side of the coffee table.

„I’m sorry, ahem,” you clear your throat and straighten up in your armchair, mirroring Diluc’s weird position. His face contorts in a fake smile, which you immediately reciprocate, causing his eyes to narrow.

„Erm…, I was saying,” Diluc’s father refocuses your attention back to him, „You need to somehow learn to co-operate. I’m thoroughly sick and tired of your antics. I’ve already spoken to Kaeya. Should you fail to come to your senses, he’ll be the one inheriting the majority of shares.” He informs, taking a sip of the coffee in his hand.

Diluc looks ready to rise to his feet, however, he composes himself and digs his nails into the armrest, turning to his father.

„I thought he said he wasn’t interested in anything that has to do with the company. Apart from plundering our wine barrels for free, that is.”

„He was thoughtful enough to change his mind per my request.”

Diluc snickers, „Oh, how considerate.”

„It’s your last warning. Screw this up and you’ll be forever stuck as Kaeya’s personal assistants.” He announces, grimacing at the bitter taste of the beverage. „You could perhaps start with buying a new coffee machine. It tastes like dog’s piss.” He reluctantly lifts himself from the armchair and saunters to the door.

„It’s your coffee machine, Dad,” Diluc observes in a huff.

But, his father’s already marched out of the office, leaving you two alone. The ticking of the clock is the only sound that breaks the stillness of the room. Your fingers start impatiently drumming on the armrest. Diluc’s eyes zero in on you.

„What? Why are you looking at me like this? Don’t tell me it’s my fault.” You gasp, feigning offence.

„Remind me of the time when it actually wasn’t.”

You roll your eyes and decide to remove yourself from his view before he throws another tantrum.

And so, the co-operation thing has kicked off pretty fast. Albeit, it is still quite rough around the edges.

For the sake of his sanity, Diluc suggests that you should reside in a separate office and reduce your daily interaction to an absolute minimum. He tells you to compose a list of matters that require both your and his attention, which you will later discuss once you’ve agreed on a date of a meeting. He informs you about all of that in an e-mail. He is kind enough to notify you that if, for some reason, you happen to have some doubts his secretary will be ready to answer your questions.

The first days he avoids you like a plaque, hoping that things will somehow blow over if he only stays out of your way and continues doing his job.

He thinks he doesn’t need your help and can single-handedly deal with the paperwork and the meetings.

Keep reading

the daddyfication of ran haitani (part 2)

a/n: thank you for the love on part 1!!!!!!! i hope i wrapped this lil story up okay, feedback is so welcome and appreciated please enjoy!!!

content: pregnant reader, mentions of drug use sanzu does some coke oop, angst, angst, angst, comfort!

word count: 2.6k

taglist: @purplesweethart @124925sblog @trashmemebitch @lunaticlunar @bekky06 @dazaisleftballsack @rinrinfoxy @soraxdarwin @gojoscumslut @wakasa-uwu @sh4nn @suzuyamitsuki @luvmatchamilktea @hollypastl <333

part 1

the car ride home from the hospital is tense. ran tries to speak but you shut him down with one word answers or by not responding at all. you feel yourself slipping into a foul mood and desperately want to fight against it so it won't be such an awkward drive, but you can't help it.

you accidentally make it worse by asking, "can you drop me off at my apartment?"

ran gives you a look like you're insane.

in the last few weeks you've only been to your apartment once and it was just to drop off your rent check. you'd slowly started spending more and more time at ran's, moving clothes and items over so that you practically lived there with him. he was too proud (and nervous) to ask you to move in properly, so he did it by suggesting you take more drawers in his closet, bring over more necessities so you'd feel more comfortable at his place. your asking to go there suddenly and without reason felt like a punishment to him.

"why?" he responds simply, eyes fixed to the road again. you watch him adjust his grip on the steering wheel.

"i just... ran, i don't want you to be upset, okay?" you mumble, wringing your hands in your lap. his jaw tightens, "that's not a fuckin' answer."

"please don't be upset," you huff. "i just want to be alone tonight. i feel like shit."

he pulls up to a red light and then turns to you, "you really want that?"

any time he looks at you, and you don't see the mischievous twinkle in his eye or the teasing smirk on his lips, your heart sinks. this time is no different. "yes," you force out. "just for the night. please, please try to understand where i'm coming from."

the light changes. he nods once at you and redirects his attention back to driving. your chest aches knowing that he's hurt, but you need some time on your own to take in everything that's happened today. you needed privacy to receive the doctor's phone call and maybe to buy a fucking drugstore pregnancy test, too. everything still felt like some kind of sick prank.

it wasn't like you'd never thought about having kids before. and after almost a year of being with ran, you'd definitely had your share of wonderings and daydreams about him as a father, of raising a cute little kid together with your eyes and his charming smile. you just hadn't expected to have to confront these imaginings so suddenly.

the rest of the drive is silent. ran pulls up outside your place and says nothing. "ran," you squeak, hoping he'll look at you. when he glances over, his well rehearsed facade is up, smirk and all.

"get inside quick, baby," he jerks his head toward the door. "it's cold."

you can't help but frown at the way he's bounced back so quickly, how he's so unaffected while you feel like you're crumbling. he puts a hand behind your neck and drags you toward him to plant a kiss to your forehead, "love you."

"love you, too," you give him a weak smile that doesn't even last until you get out of the car.

------------------------------------------------------------------

the ding of your phone's timer makes you nearly jump out of your skin. it's the next day, and you're sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, leg shaking anxiously, staring at the little plastic wand on the counter. part of you doesn't want to look at the test at all. it would be much less stressful to toss the thing in the trash without checking the results, wash your hands, and pretend this whole ordeal was just a bad dream. but the vomiting had been real. the emergency room, the dizziness, the sobbing in ran's arms, the doctor's words.

that had all been very real.

you force yourself to your get to your feet and pick up the white and pink stick with trembling fingers. before you can muster the courage to look at it, you bring your attention back to the box the test came in.

one line, not pregnant. two lines, pregnant. simple.

you squeeze your eyes shut and hold the test in front of you. counting backwards from 3, you suck in a shaky break. 2, you grit your teeth. 1, your eyes crack open.

two lines.

two fucking lines. clear as day, there was no mistaking it.

you meet your reflection in the mirror and see that you're crying. you turn away and head into your bedroom, climbing into bed and making the decision to sleep for the rest of the day. ------------------------------------------------------------------

across town, ran is sitting in the back office of sanzu's strip club with sanzu, kokonoi, rindou, and kakucho, waiting for koko to finish looking over sanzu's books so they could all get to the restaurant where they were planning to eat.

"did you have to do this now?" kakucho groans as koko turns another page then turns it back to double check his own work. "i'm fuckin' hungry!"

"i told you we were working," koko replies without looking up.

rindou rolls his eyes, scrolling on his phone. ran is leaned back in a chair, absentmindedly watching sanzu do coke off a mirrored tray on the other side of the desk from kokonoi.

his pink haired head pops up after a line. "stop whining," he sniffs, dabbing at his nose with his sleeve. "i'm runnin' a fuckin' business here."

ran's phone vibrates in his pocket, distracting him momentarily from the euphoria episode unfolding in the stuffy office.

"ran haitani," he answers formally.

a moment later he's on his feet, "uh, yes...but that's not–okay... mhm.... yes.... i understand."

in true ran fashion, he starts to pace down to the far side of the office and back. "i'll call back," he grumbles, the professionalism all but gone from his tone. "right... thank you..."

for a few seconds, nobody says anything. ran's back is to the others, his grip tightening around his phone in his hand.

"you good, haitani?" kakucho's voice startles him. when he turns back to the group, he's wearing an unreadable expression.

"that was the doctor," he's stunned to the point of being unable to produce any emotion at all. "apparently my girl's pregnant."

the responses come all at once, blurted in shock and sympathy:

"shit, dude..."

"i'm sorry, man..."

"wow, what the fuck."

"what the hell are you gonna do?"

ran's staring down at his phone with unfocused eyes, "i have no fuckin' clue."

ran feels a bit stupid. he feels like he should've fuckin' known. the random bi– sorry, moodiness–, crying over anything, the vomiting, the fucking jeans that didn't fit and made you cry... how had he not realized??

admittedly, ran had gotten girls pregnant before. he'd even told you about it vaguely, never wanting to hide who he was from you, who he used to be. receiving an “i’m pregnant” text used to hardly even phase him. each time, he would simply shell out some money to make sure they'd handle it, then promptly ghost them and move the fuck on. the situation had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience, a problem neither him nor any of the women he'd been sleeping with had any difference in opinion about how to deal with.

but now he was with you. and he wasn't so sure that he wanted to do away with this like he had been so used to doing. and, more importantly, what did you want to do? the doctor said she'd told you already it was 99% sure, so why the fuck hadn't you said anything to him?? he didn't want to face the most obvious answer.

you obviously didn't want that with him.

"i'm gonna go," ran croaks, throat suddenly tight and dry. without waiting for any acknowledgement, he disappears out of the office and leaves the club through the back door.

ran would never admit it, but he had spent many nights lying awake thinking about the future he hoped to have with you. getting married, buying a house, growing old together... a huge part of it always included having a kid with you. he loved imagining how you’d be as a mother. he was sure the kindness and patience you showed him on a daily basis would only increase for your child. sure you loved him, but it almost made him jealous sometimes to imagine how much you'd love that fuckin' kid.

sitting in his car, ran realizes the reality of your pregnancy is not anything like he'd imagined. he's not feeling overjoyed. he's not rushing over to kiss you and celebrate. instead, you're hiding the pregnancy from him, alone at your apartment instead of with him at his and he's sitting in his car outside sanzu's fucking strip club. ran feels cheated somehow. why didn't you tell him?

of course he understood if you didn't want to have his baby, as much as that would tear him up inside. he knew he wasn't dad material; his business was dangerous, the lifestyle he'd led for so long was definitely not suited for children. as many nights as he'd spent imagining being a dad, he'd spent just as many worrying about not being good at it.

what would he do if he ended up being a shitty dad like his own had been?

you were his complete opposite: soft, understanding, empathetic. you'd be an incredible parent, you'd make it look effortless. and he would probably just fuck his kid up or leave.

ran presses his fingers against his temples, as if trying to physically work the thoughts out of his head. one thing was clear, he needed to talk to you. soon. immediately. before he can talk himself out of it, he turns on his car and zooms over to your place. ------------------------------------------------------------------

you try your best to ignore the knocking at your front door but the sound won't let up. dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffle through your apartment and open the front door without checking who it is.

"i think you owe me an explanation, sweetheart."

the words are said so calmly but they still make you want to physically leap away. ran looks disheveled, frustrated, and honestly, close to tears. he's watching you with a blank expression but you know him well enough to see the hurt in his eyes.

"come inside," you mumble, leading him toward the couch. he follows wordlessly and the two of you sit on opposite sides, facing each other.

"why didn't you tell me you're pregnant?" he asks, getting straight to the point.

you pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly, "i don't know."

"that's a shit answer and you know it," he snarls.

"i don't know!" you repeat, louder. "i panicked, honestly. i still don't know how i feel about it, and i didn't know how you were going to react..."

"but you should have told me, baby," ran's fists are clenched at his sides as he tries to keep himself calm. "we don't keep shit from each other especially not important shit like this!"

"don't yell at me!" you feel tears prickle in your eyes. "i got fucking scared of what you might think. and i had to know what i wanted before i talked to you. and, honestly, i figured i could probably guess what you'd want right now and that it was not being a father. sorry if that was so wrong."

"i can be a fuckin' father."

"well, just because you can doesn't mean you should."

the words strike him like a slap in the face. "i see."

"ran," you regret the words the moment they're out of your mouth. "i don't mean that. i just, i'm so fuckin' confused, i don't mean to–"

"nah, you don't sound confused," he smiles darkly, condescending. "it sounds like you know exactly what the fuck you want."

"don't do that," you cross your arms tightly over your chest. "don't make me the fuckin' bad guy just for being scared."

"you? scared??" ran asks incredulously, sarcasm dripping from his words. "of what?"

"um, i don't know, of growing a fucking human being?" you sputter. "of having to clothe it, and feed it, and raise it to help it become an actual person without fucking it up??"

"oh, please, you're gonna be fuckin' mother of the year and raise the happiest, smartest, most well adjusted little brat in history."

"but you don't know that."

"i do," he bites back. "and so do you. fuckin' admit it, you're scared you might be stuck with a guy who's gonna fuck up your kid."

"ran!" you recoil in shock at his words. "is that really what you think??"

he lays his head back against the couch cushion, deflating, "it's obvious. why else would you hide it?"

you watch him sink back into the couch, notice how his jaw clenches and unclenches under the skin of his face. he's so tense you can practically feel it radiate off of him.

"can i–?" you start to move toward him. he's tired himself out now, said everything he needed to say. he nods in defeat and you climb onto his lap.

you tuck your head under his chin, curling up against his chest. just having you in his arms– having your body so close to his– calms him down significantly. ran has always said that none of the bonten men would ever believe how quickly he loses fights when they're with you. the man who would be excited to take on an entire gang on his own and maybe even actually stand a chance of winning, folds immediately at the hands of one woman.

your hand cups his cheek tenderly. he leans into the touch, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "you know i love you more than anything, right?"

he's surprised by the words, especially right now. he felt the same way about you, but doesn't usually think about or assume that it's reciprocated. god forbid he got too comfortable and something happened to prove him wrong.

"you have so much love to give, ran," you hug yourself closer to him. "you protect the people you love with everything you have. our kid is gonna be so lucky to have you as a dad."

he's silent for a few moments, then groans out a soft "fuck" that almost makes you laugh.

"you were caught off guard, too," his voice is low, the words are coming out slowly, like he's analyzing each one individually.

"i made it about my fuckin' self when you were just... also scared. jesus christ.

"mhm," you mumble. he rubs your back as he senses you aren't mad at him, "why do i do that shit? i almost fuckin' blew it."

"no, baby," you reassure him. "you didn't. and i obviously wouldn't let you get away that easily."

"oh yeah?" he smirks, heart soaring with the chance to speak normally with you for the first time in what has felt like many weeks. "think you've got me locked down now that you're my baby mama?"

"shut up," you burst out laughing. he kisses your forehead lovingly.

"you know, if it's not the right time now, we don't have to rush it," he tucks your head under his chin. "we can try again when we're ready."

"maybe we're ready now," you say softly. ran doesn't reply. he must've misheard you.

"now?" he repeats.

"you're gonna be good at this," you turn your body to straddle his waist. "our kid is gonna love you so much."

ran takes a shaky breath as he smiles at you. "you think?"

"obviously," you nod enthusiastically. "because i'm the one cooking him and i love you so much."

"there's a lot i'd like to unpack there."

"too bad," you giggle, hopping off his lap. "i'm hungry and you were mean to me."

ran reaches for his phone to order dinner, "yes, mrs. haitani."

"not quite."

"not yet."

"okay, honey. one thing at a time."

the boyfriendification of ran haitani

a/n: 18+!!!! nsfw!!! this is exactly what it sounds like. i've been trying to write this for DAYS and HERE SHE IS tbh i could've gone on forever ran has moved into my brain and is living completely rent free please somebody get him OUT of there!!!

content: alcohol / drinking, smoking, fingering, nipple play, spanking, sex!!, maybe a little bit of misogyny? kinda?? some of the boys sanzu talk about girls a little crazy oy

word count: 7,114

it wasn’t the first time you’d been to octagon. your friends had dragged you to the fancy, new nightclub downtown for its opening weekend and had fallen in love with the gaudy atmosphere. they had gotten into the habit of splurging on a night out there whenever one of you was in need of a pick-me-up. a pick-me-up in the form of a lux night surrounded by rich assholes, bottle service, and flashing lights, of course. so no, it wasn't your first time at octagon, but it was, however, the first time you’d been bent over the counter top in its single stall bathroom while a gorgeous stranger took you from behind. definitely a first.

from the moment he'd locked eyes with you from his table across the dance floor, you wanted him. you had found him incredibly handsome, especially compared to the usual slimeballs that frequented the place. it wasn't a secret that most men went to octagon with the hope of their private table and bottle upon bottle of top shelf liquor being enough to win the attention and company of beautiful women, regardless of how old or gross they were themselves.

ran haitani was neither old nor gross. he seemed to be in his late twenties, tall and slim, with a cigarette danging from his lips. he held himself in a way that said i know i'm better than everyone here and it is fucking hilarious. he had an amused look on his sharp, angular face that never seemed to shake. he watched you with calculating eyes, as if deciding if you were worth the chase. and you were enough shots into the night that you decided to flirt and wink back at him, shaking your ass in his direction for just a moment before turning back to your friends to tease him. when two enormous hands firmly gripped your waist, you knew it was him. you allowed him to run his greedy hands up and down your sides, arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he danced closer to you. as you arched your back, you were met with the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your ass while those massive hands pulled you flush against him. the size of him nearly made your mouth water. it wasn’t much longer before his whiskey scented breath was hot at your cheek, a sensual rumble of a voice tickling your ear, “can we go somewhere to be alone?”

next thing you knew, you were locked in the bathroom, stuffed full of this man’s veiny length. one of his hands had tightened around your throat. the other came down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap every so often, making you yelp. you could barely hear your own cries of pleasure over the booming bass of the dance music just outside the door. ran was pounding into you at a pace that made your legs wobble. thankfully, he had you pressed against the counter with a hand gripping your hip for support. the hand around your neck released to take a fist full of your hair and drag you up against his chest. “you’re so fucking tight,” he growls in your ear. “how’d i get this lucky? didn’t even wanna go out tonight but here i am with this tight fucking pussy squeezing the shit out of my dick.” you can’t take your eyes off the pornographic scene taking place in the mirror in front of you as he continues thrusting up into you.

ran is watching too, and he's desperate to see more of you. he uses his free hand to hike your dress up even higher until it’s bunched up at your stomach. you're completely exposed, tits bouncing freely, soiled panties pushed aside to make way for the intrusion into your slick heat. his size is making it impossible to stay quiet. you’re moaning and whimpering with every thrust as the head of his thick cock bruises your cervix. the pain and pleasure have become one and between that and the alcohol you’re feeling like you’re floating.

the way you’re wrapped so tightly around him, pussy swallowing him up completely and dragging him back in each time he pulls almost all the way out of you, ran can't get enough. he’s watching you hungrily as your mouth hangs open, a constant string of curse words and cries streaming out. his eyes lock onto the place where he’s disappearing inside you, the place dripping with your arousal and making a mess all down your thighs and onto his dark pants.

"tell me how good you feel, baby," his face is next to yours, talking to your reflection in the mirror. "s-so good," you sputter. sweat and tears have ruined your makeup and you look absolutely wrecked. it's fuckin beautiful, ran thinks. "lemme hear youuu," he whines, grin only growing. "come onnn. tell me you love this." "i love it, i really love it, fuck." it's not a lie, either. you can't remember ever being fucked like this in your entire life. he's hitting deeper than any guy you've ever been with, and with a girth that's stretching you to the point of almost being painful. but you love it, you really do.

you watch in silent desperation as one of his hands starts to snake down your thigh, long fingers beginning to circle your clit. the added stimulation has you screaming, orgasm approaching like a bullet train. "scream my fuckin name," he orders, teasing voice taking on just a hint of sternness. "ran."

you did as you were told, repeating his name over and over, louder and louder, drowning out the sound of his balls slapping against you, nearly matching the volume of the music outside. "that's right," he laughs, fingers speeding up as he feels your walls tense around him. "cum on this cock, gorgeous. let me hear you." you do, hard, eyes practically rolling back in your head. you cry out his name just as he had told you to, a few swears following as his hands grab onto your waist and starts forcing your hips down to meet his thrusts. he's groaning now, the way your orgasm has you fluttering around him bringing on his own orgasm. you feel the heat as he fills the condom deep inside you, arms caging you in as he grips the counter for support. he bucks his hips up a couple more times– both of you making desperate sounds at the overstimulation– and pulls out. he trashes the condom and tucks himself back into his boxers.

your knees threaten to buckle under you so you turn quickly to lean back against the counter for support. he laughs, leaning close to kiss you for what feels like the very first time that night. it's sloppy and a little rough, tasting like whiskey and cigarettes, but for some reason it exhilarates you. he pulls away and cocks his head to one side.

"what's your name, pretty little thing?"

you tell him and he grins, repeating it back to you slowly, savoring each sound. "you have got the absolute tightest, juiciest pussy i've ever put my dick in."

you wince a bit at his lewd words and how casually he's said them. you mumble a slightly sarcastic thanks and start to adjust your clothes, pulling the straps of your dress back over your shoulders, tugging the hem down to where it belongs. he watches you with amusement, that same smirk still on his lips. you wet a paper towel and lean in close to the mirror to try and wipe away your smudged makeup. when you turn back to ran you see him slipping your phone into your purse.

"hey!" you startle him but he just as quickly regains his usual expression. "what are you–"

"i'd really like to do this again," he cuts you off, checking something on his own phone with a satisfied smile. "pleasure meeting you." he tips your head up and kisses you once. you watch in stunned silence as he unlocks the bathroom door and exits. you catch a glimpse of a line that has formed just outside.

"oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me," a voice groans seeing ran exit.

"someone sounds jealous!" a laugh follows ran's words.

when the door shuts again, you lock it quickly and pull your phone from your bag to see what he'd done. your screen lights up revealing that he had sent a text, presumably to himself. the message simply reads, "best fuck i've ever had"

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despite sending it to himself, it's weeks before ran uses your number. you had almost started to believe he would never actually text. which wasn't the worst thing in the world. sure, it had actually been the best fuck of your life, but you had decided that fucking strangers wasn't something you were into anymore. shortly after you'd met ran, you'd hooked up with a friend of a friend after a night out, and it had been one of the least sexy encounters you'd ever had. and then, a few weeks after that, sex with a guy from a dating app had ended with him crying on top of you, realizing he wasn't over his ex. yeah, hooking up with strangers was proving to be a dead end.

you were confident in your decision to stay away from all that. even when a text came through from an unsaved number, the only other message ever exchanged with it being best fuck i've ever had. ran.

remember me? :)

you stare at the message for a few seconds and locked your phone. you had just sat down in the corner of your favorite cafe with a latte and your laptop to get some work done and you weren't going to let mr. best fuck i've ever had derail your productive morning.

ignoring me? my feelings are hurt!

the message alarms you just a little. but before you can wonder how he knew you were ignoring him intentionally, you receive another text.

mind if i join you?

you look up as a looming presence arrives at the seat across from you. it's ran, looking just as you remember, maybe even more handsome than in your memory, now that you were looking at him with sober eyes. "so?" he smirks, quirking an eyebrow. you nod, motioning politely to the chair and he sits.

he's wearing a suit, or half of one. he's got on a crisp white button down and slacks with the jacket slung over his arm. the clothes fit him perfectly, every stitch and fold falling just where it should as if they were tailored just for him. which they probably were. over the collar of his shirt peeks the top of a tattoo that adorns his throat. you wonder why you hadn't noticed it back at the club. it was pretty hard to focus on anything other than his cock. you banish the thought from your mind. that was behind you. with his polished appearance, his hidden tattoos, and knowing smile, ran exudes an overwhelming aura of power and wealth. it's a bit intimidating.

"fuck, do i feel lucky to have run into you," he settles back in his chair, eyeing you mischievously. "what are you working on?" you notice his gaze on your laptop. "emails," you say simply, stupidly. he's hard to have a conversation with, you can't stop thinking about that word: intimidating.

"nothing urgent, i hope?" he sips his coffee, deep violet eyes flickering, hinting that there was more to the question.

you just stare back at him, waiting for it. "if you're free, why don't you come back to my place? it's really close to here."

"i'm not free," you reply evenly. "i told you, i'm working."

"oh, come on," he rolls his eyes petulantly. "you'd rather send emails than come with me and get the best dick of your life again?" you look away from him and open your computer, "sorry, i'm not interested."

he shuts your laptop with one large hand, leaning across the table toward you, "i don't believe you." his tone is still pleasant and lighthearted as it seems to always be, but he's clearly not used to hearing an answer that isn't yes. "you were begging for me at the club. don't you remember?"

"i do but–" you open your computer again and he shuts it abruptly. "i'm really not like that."

“like what?" his tone is changing, it's patronizing, belittling, an attempt to coax a yes out of you. "a horny little slut telling me how much she loved getting her tight fuckin hole filled in the bathroom of that club?”

"you got lucky," you bite back. "we're not in a club, now. i'm not fucked up, and i'm not just hooking up with you because you look good in a suit."

"you think i look good?" his smile grows, mocking.

“whatever, ran," you start to collect your things, suddenly frustrated. he'd shown up and interrupted your day, expecting you to just drop everything to go fuck him. not this time. "think what you want, but if you're really trying to fill this tight little hole again, it definitely won’t be like this.” you turn to walk away leaving him completely stunned and surprisingly aroused...

you're just starting down the sidewalk outside when the bell on the cafe's door chimes again behind you. ran's hand circles your wrist and pulls you to a stop abruptly. he turns you toward him.

"fine," his jaw is tight. "i'll play along. what do you want me to do? get you fuckin flowers or some shit?"

it's your turn to feel smug. as powerful as he seemed, as he carried himself to appear, there had clearly been a shift in the dynamic. the subtle annoyance you'd caused in the world's most easygoing man was thrilling. you felt like the ball was suddenly in your court.

"let’s get dinner."

"buy me dinner first," he mocks, putting on a high pitched voice.

"you’re the one begging to fuck me," you remind him sharply.

he quiets. “fine."

you're shocked he's agreed but try not to show it on your face.

"8?" he continues. "i’ll pick you up."

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the sight outside your apartment stuns you into silence. ran, dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, the shirt looser and more stylish than the one he'd had on at the coffee shop, smoking a cigarette leaned against the hood of his car. with the first few buttons of his shirt undone you can see his tattoo clearly. just below his collarbone are a few dark swirls of ink, telling you there are more tattoos on his chest. you briefly wonder what they look like, what they mean.

he flicks his cigarette butt into the gutter before his eyes come to rest on you as you approach. the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin but he says nothing. "i didn't expect you to drive a batmobile," you say simply, gesturing to the sleek black car. ran laughs, loose and genuine. the sound somehow calms your nerves. "it's a bugatti. batmobile prob'ly woulda been cheaper, though." you laugh, surprised at his humor. but much to your disappointment, the car ride that follows is relatively silent.

the restaurant ran has chosen is a steakhouse, one of the finest in the city you learn from a quick google search as you exit the car. he hands the keys to the valet and you can barely make out a whispered threat of what he'll do if anything happens to his precious car. you watch a wave of fear wash over the young man as ran claps him on the back dismissively. "you scared him," you frown. "good," ran says casually. "that car costs more than he'll make in his entire life." you call him a number of mean names in your head. great date so far.

ran gives his name at the front, the host looking just as fear stricken as the valet as he leads the two of you to a table in a bustling VIP room. you sit down, eyes flitting from table to table, observing the other kinds of people with the same reservation privileges as ran. older men and women in expensive suits and cocktail dresses laughing and drinking wine, middle aged business men celebrating closed deals, and a handful of other couples enjoying each other on dates. "i hope you eat meat," ran smiles briefly.

the rest of the night passes with no more than 20 words exchanged between you. your displeasure is growing with each time ran checks his watch or rolls his eyes at you. as your plates are cleared, ran refills both your glasses of wine. you've convinced yourself you're calling a taxi home after this glass. you'd enjoy an expensive meal paid for by this mysterious, exorbitantly rich man and leave with your dignity in tact. you weren't going home with him, not after this pitiful attempt at a date.

"somethin wrong?" he asks with a patronizing tilt of his head.

"no," you lean in. "just wondering why you're choosing to be so insufferable."

ran's eyes narrow the slightest bit, "what ever could you mean, darlin?"

"you're acting like a child. i get that getting to know someone before fucking them is a brand new concept to you, but it's what we agreed on–"

"i agreed to dinner," he corrects, raising his glass to his lips. you want to reach across the table and slap the grin from his face.

"right, a dinner so i could get to know you," you're speaking through gritted teeth. "that was my only request, because i don't want to fuck a stranger–"

"honey, you already fucked a stranger and, if i remember correctly, you fucking loved it."

you blink back at him making a move to grab your purse.

"aww, come on," he chuckles. the sound feels like a punch to the gut.

his hand closes around yours on the table, his grip almost too tight. you look up at him, ready to protest, when you see that his eyes are dark, warning you not to leave. "i'm sorry. really. put down your bag."

for the first time all night there's not a hint of teasing in his voice. the sudden authenticity startles you enough to keep you in your seat. your eyes can't seem to unglue themselves from his. you feel your hand release your clutch, shoulders relaxing. the remaining shred of control you'd felt earlier in the day was completely overwhelmed by his commanding gaze. the tone of the evening had shifted.

"what do you want to know about me?" he asks, his usual smile back on his lips. his hand is still holding yours, thumb stroking over the back delicately.

there are a million things you want to know, each question seeming more important than the one before it as they bubble in your brain. you decide on something simple.

"what's your last name?"

his smile widens, "good question, baby. haitani."

"and what do you do?"

instead of answering, he takes out his phone and unlocks it. he hands it over to you on a new internet tab, "google me."

you hesitate but he seems insistent. ran haitani. search.

the first thing to come up are pictures of him. paparazzi shots, professional headshots, press photos at company events, something resembling a mugshot.

under the pictures are a list of links to articles mentioning his name. you gulp, trying to conceal your reaction to the headlines, and probably doing a terrible job of it.

"bonten inc. executive ran haitani could face criminal charges"

"ran haitani: genius business mogul or nefarious mob boss?"

"police commissioner assures no links found between bonten inc. and citywide gang activity following investigation"

"haitani brothers acquitted of charges following month long trial"

your mind had chosen to analyze the new information quite calmly. he was an executive of a huge company. that explained the money, the clothes, the attitude. gang activity. criminal charges. mob boss. you remembered the look of terror in the faces of the valet and the restaurant host. now that you thought about it, you had even seen it from other patrons when they risked a peek over to your table.

blame it on being naive, but for some reason, you didn't feel afraid of him. you pass his phone back wordlessly, noticing how carefully he was watching your face for some kind of reaction. "learn anything good?" he asks, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

you nod, "you have a brother."

his brows draw together for a moment, scrutinizing your expressionless face. you barely last another moment before you both burst out laughing. ran isn't sure why your reaction has him feeling so delighted, but it does. googling his name had been meant as a mean trick, a surefire way to terrify you and run you out of the restaurant. so for you to react with a joke of your own... had he met his match? he feels his cock twitch in his tight pants.

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once all ran's cards are on the table, the whole night inexplicably shifts. you stay there much longer with him, actually talking, finishing the expensive bottle of wine he'd gotten together. a newfound passion seems to overtake ran as he tells you more about what he does (in slightly vague terms, for obvious reasons). even more surprising is how the things you tell him fascinate him, your world being so starkly different from his. it's intoxicating, the way you light up as you speak, hands gesturing and eyes sparkling. he thinks it's perfect that you work for a non-profit– something to do with helping kids in need– because after these few hours of being in your presence, he knows he'd donate millions if you asked.

"we should probably get going...?" you mumble when you notice that most of the diners have disappeared. ran feels a pang of disappointment, realizing the night may be nearing its end. what you see, though, is a casual smile and a nod as he stands up and offers you his arm. clinging to him, you let him lead you out of the restaurant. as you stand beside him waiting for the valet to get his car, he wraps his hand around yours wordlessly. the gesture is so small, so sweet, you wonder if he had even done it intentionally. nonetheless, you feel giddy, however out of character it was for him.

"how'd i do?" he asks quietly. you're not sure what to make of the question. "how was tonight?"

you try to hold back your smug smile. "well, you definitely don't feel like such a stranger anymore." he laughs, a soft exhale. you squeeze his hand to get him to look at you. "aren't you going to invite me back to your place?"

he gives in to the urge to kiss you, large hands cupping your cheeks, holding you in place as he bends to press his lips to yours. "you're a fuckin tease," he mumbles against your lips, making you giggle. "shut up and take me home," you smirk. the car pulls up and ran is feeling triumphant. he slaps a hundred dollar bill into the valet's hand, "thanks, man. g'night." the guy looks shocked to be receiving such a large bill, especially from someone who had threatened to gouge his eyes out with car keys just hours earlier.

"that was very generous," you note, once you're both inside the cavernous vehicle. "i'm in a good mood," he shrugs, smiling out at the road. the car zooms out of the parking lot with a roar, ran driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

as you pull through the guard gate and descend down the winding tunnel to the underground parking lot of ran's place, you start to giggle. ran glances over at you as you try to contain yourself. he gives your thigh a squeeze, "what's so funny?" you shake your head dismissively. pulling into his parking spot, he cuts the engine and turns to face you. another devilish giggle slips out and you know you have to spill.

sheepishly, you place your hand over his on your leg, tracing nervous circles onto the back of it. "fuck me here. in the batmobile."

"shit," ran snorts out a laugh, already pulling you over the center console and onto his lap. "whatever you say, baby."

as soon as you're straddling his hips, he slides the hem of your dress up your thighs, letting it bunch up at your hips and reveal your lacy black panties. "pretty," he grins, knuckles running over your clothed slit. "d'ya wear these just for me? pictured me taking em off you?" you whimper, already turned on by his feather-light touches and teasing words. as you fumble with ran's belt, his massive hands have each one of your tits in their grip, squeezing hard. "fuck," he breathes, finding the zipper at the nape of your neck and tugging it down. you slide your arms out of the straps so that ran can peel the bodice down toward your stomach, revealing your tits to him in their lacy confines. "look at these!" he sounds overjoyed, giving them another squeeze. he pulls the cups of your bra down at the same time. he meets your eyes before giving each of your nipples a firm pinch. you whimper, eyebrows furrowing. "aww, sensitive, huh?" he fakes sympathy, pinching again, harder. he rolls the hardening buds between his thumbs and forefingers, "i feel fucking cheated. i didn't get to play with these gorgeous tits last time. what do you have to say for yourself, hmm?"

you moan as his lips wrap around one nipple, fingers twisting and rubbing the other. "s-sorry," you whine. "sorry's fuckin right," he says, mouth full of your breast. as he releases it with a wet pop to move to the other side, his hand comes up between your parted legs. as he suckles at your nipples, fingertips nudge themselves under the fabric of your underwear. "please. touch me." in response he presses his slender middle finger into your already dripping hole. a second finger follows closely after. his thumb presses down firmly on your clit, running over it slickly using the arousal that's leaking around his fingers and pooling into his palm. "you're fuckin filthy," ran's tone makes it sound like something between a praise and an insult. "listen to how wet you are already. you just love havin somethin fuckin in and outta this little cunt, huh?" you nod desperately, burying your face in his neck as the squelching sounds of his fingers in your pussy fill the car.

a sharp slap comes down on your ass cheek and knocks the wind out of you. "take my cock out, baby. want you to see how fuckin hard i am feelin you leakin all over my fuckin hand." you had almost forgotten you'd started to unbutton his pants, before he'd shoved his fingers into you, that is. he spanks you again and you yelp, "too hard!" he chuckles darkly, but still presses a kiss to your temple and mumbles out a "sorry, baby." you finally get his fly down and he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs. his cock stands upright, angry red tip resting against the firm muscles of his stomach. because he'd taken you from behind in the club, you hadn't actually gotten a good look at his member. the size of it was shocking. "it fit?" you ask in disbelief. he strokes your cheek, smiling at you with amusement, "'course it did. you were such a good girl for me. gonna be a good girl again?"

you respond by lifting your hips and positioning yourself over his length. your hands grip his shoulders for support. he holds your waist in one hand and the base of his cock in the other. he runs the tip between your lips a few times, your arousal coating the head and running down his shaft. finally, he pulls you down, tip pushing inside your clenching hole. the stretch is a million times more intense when you're on top, you decide. as ran sheaths himself inside you in one swift motion, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your lungs.

before you've caught your breath, he's lifting you back up and slamming you down again. you can't help the yells, whimpers, and moans that fill the tiny space around you two. you drop your head to his shoulder as he thrusts his hips up into you. he takes your tits into his mouth again, "fuckin obsessed with your body. you feel so good, baby." something possesses you to say it back, "fuckin obsessed with your cock." the words send him into a frenzy. his hips speed up, the sound of skin on skin getting louder and more frequent as he pistons into your hole. you cling to him, fingernails leaving crescent shapes where they've dug into his skin.

ran pants an order, "touch yourself. wanna feel you cum on my cock." your fingers rub around your clit, bringing you even closer to the edge. "fuck, ran," you whimper, all the sensations becoming too much. "louder." "ran! fuck, oh my god, ran!"

you see stars as your high hits like a freight train. you're barely aware of how tightly your walls have clenched around ran, how they've drawn out his release, milking him of every last drop. he makes no move to pull out, simply lets himself soften while buried deep within your cunt. but you wiggle your hips, too sensitive to have him there much longer. "tsk," he shakes his head in fake disappointment and lifts you off of him. he keeps you in his lap, though, wrapped up in his long arms. he reaches into the back seat, grabbing the suit jacket he'd had on earlier in the day. you almost blush as he drapes it over your shoulders. you kiss him in thanks. the kiss turns into a few more kisses and soon you're straddling him again, looking into his face.

"was it really so bad?" you ask, teasing. "going on a date?" he lets his head loll back as your lips leave a trail of kisses from his collarbone up to his jaw. "not bad with you," he turns his head and catches your lips with his. he grips your ass in his hands to pull you closer. "and not after this." "worth it, right?" you giggle against his mouth. "i might even consider doing it again." your tiny gasp makes him laugh. "yeah, yeah," he chuckles. "whatever." cradling his face in your hands, you smile devilishly. "if you agree to another date, maybe we can go upstairs and do this again," you whisper in his ear. "fuck. deal."

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"alright," sanzu calls attention to himself, a bit too loudly as usual, as he walks into the room. "strip club. on west 44th street. i bought it."

"you said you would and you did," koko nods, impressed. "good for you."

"thank you!" the pink haired man points at his colleague triumphantly. "we're celebrating the new ownership tonight, and i want you all there. got it?" the other bonten execs agree, nodding or chiming in from around the room.

"ra-a-an," sanzu sing songs, noticing his colleague's lack of a response. "complimentary lap dance from the bitch with the tittie piercings if you show up tonight. i know she's your favorite."

"pass," ran calls around a cigarette, absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

"you can't pass, dick, it's a big night!" sanzu retorts, clearly offended.

"i'm seeing someone tonight."

rindou scoffs and ran throws him a look.

“you’re fuckin pussy whipped, idiot,” rin rolls his eyes.

"no way," sanzu scoffs. "no way you're seeing that same fuckin girl."

ran is silent, he continues trying to drown out sanzu's voice. the truth is, he was still seeing the same girl. it had been nearly four months since you and ran had met at the club and, as out of character as it was for him, he hadn't been with anyone else. hadn't even thought about it. he really didn't mind going on dates with you, enjoyed them even. in the last couple weeks he'd even started trying to choose some of the outings so you wouldn't have to plan them all. unlike most of his past flings, you were worth seeing again. and again, and again, and again. he liked being in your company, had grown to enjoy and long for the times you got to spend together, even fully clothed.

ran was definitely not "boyfriend material" in the traditional sense. he'd never considered that he could ever be a relationship guy. his job was dangerous and demanding. it ran the risk of pulling him away at a moment's notice and keeping him off the grid for long periods of time with no explanation. it had shaped him into the man you met at the club, a man of strip clubs, hookers, and, yes, getting his dick wet with random girls in club bathrooms.

with you, ran had it all. someone to confide in, someone to be intimate with, someone that gave him a reason to make his free time non-bonten time. it had been less than 24 hours after your first date at the steakhouse that he had realized how fucking good and different it felt to be around you. after years of the same shit with bonten or all the gangs that came before it, of course he was going to pursue this new possibility.

sanzu takes ran's silence as an answer, "fuck, ran, is it??" he howls with laughter. “did you go soft on us, man? got wifed up and lost your edge or some shit?”

“first, shut the fuck up. second, you would be doin the exact same fuckin thing if you knew how tight that shit is.” the regret for his words comes instantly.

“alright, then help me understand,” sanzu teases. “you plannin on sharin with the class?”

something ugly starts to boils deep in ran’s stomach. he's never once felt this sort of annoyance– the kind that borders on genuine anger– while simply joking with the boys. he wanted to abruptly end the conversation, didn’t want a single other person thinking about his girl and her pretty lips and tight little body and perfect fuckin cunt anymore or ever again. it was for him, him only. he wanted to swing at sanzu, knock him out of his fucking chair and leave the room. but where the fuck was that coming from? it didn't feel like ran at all.

so ran pushes the feelings down and does as normal ran would, diverting sanzu's attention away from his changing persona and the woman who had caused it, away from his clearly shifted views on women, sex, himself. he snorts a laugh and mumbles a pompous, “you fuckin wish.”

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a few more weeks go by and ran has successfully managed to avoid any further mentions of you with the bonten guys. he's more careful following the conversation with sanzu and, luckily, the topic doesn't come up again.

he's watching you intently from the bed as you brush your teeth in his bathroom. smiling to himself, he marvels at how differently your relationship has turned out from what he'd expected. it was like no other relationship ran had ever had, if you could even call his past conquests relationships at all... there was a private desire to always make you happy, keep you smiling. a constant need to make sure you were kept safe, far from bonten, its executives, and all its business. it had been such a drastic shift in him. honestly, ran couldn't remember the last girl he'd even saved in his phone with a name before you.

you meet his eyes in the mirror and grin at him. "who's got you smiling like that?" he calls, motioning you toward him. you pad across the room, climbing onto the bed and settling into his open arms. he holds you tightly against his bare chest, kissing your forehead fondly. you chuckle, "hey, when did you get so sweet, huh?" "m'not sweet," he says through a grin, squishing your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and pecking your lips. "i'm a nefarious mob boss." you laugh at the epithet– your favorite from the tabloid articles about him– that had become something of an inside joke between the two of you. he can't help but join in your laughter, delighted just by seeing you so giddy.

a loud ding sounds from the nightstand and ran reaches across you to grab his phone. "what's wrong?" you ask when his brow furrows at the screen. "someone's at the door..." he clicks the notification and it brings him to the live video feed from his doorbell. there's a man smiling and waving into the camera, like a batman villain. his long hair is dyed pale pink, his mouth bookended by even lighter pink scars. "oh, you've gotta be fuckin' kidding," he grumbles.

"is it work?" your voice is tight. he realizes he's worried you and he hates it. kissing your forehead once more before getting to his feet, he reassures you that it's nothing, "i'll get rid of him in two minutes. promise."

before he leaves his bedroom he sends a stern look your way, "stay in here. okay?" you nod obediently and he moves through the penthouse toward the front door. "i'm off the fuckin clock," you hear him say as soon as the door has been yanked open. your eyes widen at the change in his tone. cold, all business.

"good news and bad news," sanzu is breathing heavily. "i got that info about the police raid. bad news is, it was not easy." ran notices sanzu is holding his side, notices dried blood under his coat. "you fuckin idiot," ran growls, grabbing sanzu by the back of his jacket and dragging him into the apartment.

"stay here," he orders, sitting his disheveled coworker at the kitchen table. "i've got bandages."

you stand up from the bed as ran bursts into the room. "is everything o–" he cuts you off, making a beeline toward the bathroom. "it's fine. you– fuck– please just sit down. stay in here." you follow him anyway, watching from the doorway as he starts pulling out drawers and rummaging around.

"what are you looking for?"

"first aid kit."

"it's under the sink."

he crouches, opens that cabinet next, and there it is. despite his frustration, he smiles up at you apologetically before rushing out of the room again.

"they had a fucking k-9 unit," sanzu groans, squirming as ran dabs his bloody, gashed flank with a peroxide soaked cotton ball. "isn't that fucked up?" ran sighs, nodding slightly. he's too tense to really listen. you're in the other room, listening to their every word, worrying about this dangerous business he was involved in. ran feels sick wondering how you'll react when you discuss it after sanzu leaves.

"oh, well hellooo." ran's head snaps up, following sanzu's gaze to something behind him. you're standing in the doorway, nervously holding a tube of antibiotic ointment in your hand.

ran's eyes bulge as they rake down your frame. your shorts suddenly seemed too short, your oversized pajama shirt bordering on see-through. he wanted to get up and shove you back into his bedroom, shut the door and keep you away from sanzu's gaze. at least until your long legs were covered up and you had put a bra on, but maybe not even then. he was reaching a panic as he considered the thoughts that might run through sanzu's filthy fucking brain about his girl.

sanzu nudges him, "who's this? you didn't tell me you had company! i would've gone over to rindou's to bleed out." the corner of your mouth twitches up at sanzu's words. you and sanzu exchange introductions. you can see ran's hands curling into fists, his jaw clenching. he's far from happy. you hadn't done as he'd instructed and now you were meeting one of the members of his company that he tries so hard to keep you so far removed from, too.

"this fell out of the first aid kit," you hand it to ran, letting your hand stay in his for just a moment longer than it needed to, hoping that it would calm him down a little. "i thought you might need it. nice meeting you, haruchiyo." sanzu nods politely, still smirking like he's just witnessed some big secret come to light. which, to be fair, he kind of had.

"so–" "shut up," ran bites. "i don't want to fuckin hear it." sanzu's smug expression only deepens, but he stays quiet. "and not a word to anyone else. okay? for my girlfriend's sake, be fuckin cool about this. i don't want her getting involved in anything."

sanzu agrees, "you got it, man. happy for you. she's as fuckin' fine as you– fuck, ran, OW!" ran presses the cotton ball sharply against sanzu's wound, effectively shutting him up. once he's bandaged up, sanzu produces a handful of painkillers from his pocket and swallows them down. "like a new fuckin man," he claps ran on the back. "i owe you one. say goodnight to your beautiful mrs. from me." ran shuts the door in his face.

----------------------------------------------------------------

ran steps into the doorway to his bedroom and lets out a heaving sigh. you scramble up from the bed and hurry over to him, hugging tightly around his middle. "i'm sorry," you mumble." he wraps an arm around you, kissing the top of your head, "don't be. that was just..." he shakes his head to clear it. "i wish you'd stayed put, honey."

"i know, i know," you frown. "i just wanted to help."

you're both silent for a moment. you step back to look up at him.

"so i'm your girlfriend, huh?" you raise an eyebrow at him teasingly.

"you were eavesdropping, too??" he fakes annoyance, shoving you back onto the mattress and climbing on top of you as you giggle. "you're in big trouble."

"nooo," you whine impatiently. "one time. for me. say that you wanna be my boyfriend."

his violet eyes soften, he cups your cheek. "i wanna be your boyfriend. real fuckin bad. alright?"

"alright," you grin and he kisses you, feeling like the luckiest man on the planet.