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earthtoharlow · 1 year

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Flashing Lights

Jack Harlow x SingerOC

Series Masterlist

03) Fun Girl

“I DIDN'T PEAK IN HIGH SCHOOL I'M STILL OUT HERE GETTIN CUTER!!” Maryse and Saweetie rapped along to Industry Baby by Lil Nas X and Jack while on their way to the gym.

“Nas and Jack ate that up!” Saweetie told Maryse as the song was coming to an end. Maryse immediately agreed.

“They sure did! It’s definitely going to be huge, I can tell.” Maryse replied. Saweetie watched her long time friend take a photo of the song playing on the radio before smiling back down at her phone.

“Hm, so things must be going great between you and Jack?” Saweetie questioned

Maryse was so distracted by her phone that she didn’t hear her.

“BIIIITCH! I can’t believe Jack got Rubi Rose pregnant!!” Saweetie shrieked loudly.

Maryse jumped in her seat, her phone dropping to the floor of the car. “WHAT?!”

Saweetie couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Oh I knew that would get your attention.”

Maryse picked up her phone with an eye roll. “That’s seriously not funny.”

Her friend simply gave her a knowing smile before turning into the parking lot of the gym. “I was just wondering how everything’s going with lover boy, but I’m assuming it’s going great because of that silly little grin you have on your face.”

Maryse ignored her and grabbed her gym bag and hopped out the car. “First of all, he’s not my lover boy, we’re simply just friends.”

Saweetie laughed again, “yeah ok boo whatever you say, but I’ve known you since college and you don’t even smile half as big when I text you!” She said walking ahead of Maryse

Maryse hurried behind her to catch up. “Will you slow down, geez”

“And that’s not even true!” Maryse huffed.

“Uh huh. SURE. Then who are all those love songs you've been writing about?” Saweetie turned to question Maryse

“You’ve been going through my songbook?!” Maryse asked before dropping her mouth in shock.

“No, I was lying. I just wanted to see your reaction.” Saweetie soon told her.

Maryse sighed a little. She may have a tiny crush on everyone’s favorite white rapper but she swears it’s only a little one. They’ve only hung out once more since that day at the studio, two months ago.

“Ok, fine. I might have a tiny crush on the guy.” Maryse told her, bringing her thumb and pointer fingers together to emphasize how small of a crush she had on Jack.

“Besides, nothings gonna happen anyway. I’m nowhere near ready to start dating again.” Maryse mentioned. She dated Nate for so long, that now that they broke up, she was scared to open her heart up again.

Saweetie gave Maryse a look of sympathy, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you not ready or are you just scared that Jack is going to hurt you just like Nate did?”

Maryse’s head dropped with a sigh. She hated how well Saweetie knew her. “Look, the gym isn’t the place to really talk about this, so we can talk more about it later but here’s something to think about. Don’t let your fear stop you from finding the love you truly strive for. Nate has nothing to offer you right now in the present. So don’t let him shape your future.”

To stop herself from crying in public she reached forward and gave Saweetie a big hug. “I love you, Diamonté. Thank you.”

Pulling away Maryse jokingly said. “When did you get so wise?”

“Girl, I think it’s all the Steve Harvey tik toks I’ve been watching. That man knows everything!”

The two of them looked at each other and laughed loudly before walking towards the treadmills.

After Maryse and Saweetie made it back from the gym, the two girls decided to just chill around the house. Saweetie was currently in the kitchen cooking their favorite Filipino dish sinigang when Maryse decided to hop on Instagram Live to catch up with fans.

“I’m about to hop on live so don’t say anything crazy!” Maryse yelled from the kitchen table.

“No promises! You know I can’t control what comes out my mouth!” Her friend yells back

Maryse just shakes her head before sending off a tweet to let her followers know to join the live.

“Hi guys! Surprise, I’m on live! It’s been a long time huh?” Maryse said, speaking into the phone.

She leaned forward squinting a little to read the comments that were rapidly coming in. “Ooh okay, we got 6 thousand people on right now, thank y’all for joining!”

“What are you doing right now?” Maryse read the comment out loud. “Well, I landed in LA yesterday afternoon and right now I’m waiting for my personal chef to finish my dinner” She said trying to hold in her laughter, and mouthed “watch this” into the camera. Maryse could hear Saweetie drop her utensils down in the kitchen. Not even 10 seconds later, Saweetie pops down next to her and hits her slightly with her hand.

“Bitch, you wish I was your personal chef!” Maryse smiled at her before looking back at the comments.

Saweetie pointed towards a comment on the screen. “Here’s a good one, Maryse. When are we getting new music?”

Maryse tapped her pointer finger to her face, like she was thinking. Her new single was dropping soon but they didn’t need to know that quite yet.

“I don’t have an answer to that, but I’ve been in the studio almost everyday trying to make sure everything is perfect. I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

Maryse laughed seeing Doja comment that she and Saweetie were having too much without her.

“Doja! We’re having a horrible time without you! We miss you so much!” Maryse replied back and blew kisses to the camera. “You know, you my bestie in a tessie!” Saweetie said to Doja.

Maryse and Saweetie laughed and talked to the fans for a while before she saw the name Urban Wyatt request to join the live. Before she could react, Saweetie blurted out, “Who the fuck is Urban Wyatt?!”

All Maryse could do was stare at her friend in bewilderment then shake her head. She accepted his request and a couple seconds later he showed up.

“I’m sorry about her, she’s from our straight outta the hood program, and lacks some home training.” Maryse said jokingly.

“But how are you doing?”

Maryse wanted to ask him where his best friend was, but contained herself.

Urban laughed at her joke before responding. “I’m alright, you know just in the studio with my boy.”

Behind Urban you could hear a voice questioning who he was speaking to. The sound of Jack’s voice was making Maryse’s stomach tingle, it seemed to get worse when he finally appeared in front of the camera.

Maryse couldn’t help but give him a shy smile, but it turned into a full blown smile when Jack smiled back.

“Hello, ladies.” Jack greeted them, taking a seat next to Urban

“Cracker Jack!” Saweetie said with a wave before going back to eating her food.

“Hi, Jackman, I heard you guys are in the studio.” Maryse already knew this, the two of them were texting all morning, and planned on hanging out the next day since they were both in town.

Jack nodded, taking over the phone from Urban. “Been here all day.”

Jack got closer to the camera “what’s the move for tonight? Y’all look good.” Jack said with a flirty smile. He wasn’t lying, they both looked good. But he was only looking at Maryse.

“Boy bye!” Saweetie said with a wave of her hand while Maryse couldn’t stop the smile on her smile.

Deciding to ignore him, Maryse answered his first question.

“We’re probably just going to bar—“ Maryse was cut off

“Fuck a bar! We going to the club! We OUTSIDE!”

Giving a funny look into the camera, “my apologies, I guess we’re hitting up the club” Maryse shrugged. She really didn’t feel like going out but also felt like she needed a night out after spending so many nights in the studio.

Since Jack was in the studio, Maryse could hear what sounded like horns in the background. She couldn’t help but bring it up.

“Let the people hear what you’re working on! From what I can hear it sounds good.” Maryse told him.

“Yeah! Let us hear, Cracker Jack!”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?”

“No.”

Jack shocked his head at her before talking the phone over to the soundboards.

“Alright, I’ll play the first 20 seconds. Mainly because that’s all I have and I can’t give away too much.” Jack said before giving a wink into the camera.

If Maryse was lying down, that wink would’ve had her giggling and kicking her feet.

The ladies watched as Jack pressed play and the sounds of horns sounded from behind him. It sounded amazing. After a few seconds you could hear Jack come in

Mm-mm, mm, mm-mm tss

My nail tech knows how to keep a lil' secret

I don't wish for my success, I speak it….

Maryse and Saweetie started bobbing their heads and dancing in their seats. The comments were going crazy at the snippet. Maryse cheered a little as the snippet ended.

“Jack, you gotta finish that ASAP! I’m loving the horns” Maryse told him, Saweetie nodded her head in agreement.

Maryse thought it was sweet watching Jack put his head down shyly to hide him blushing.

“Thanks, ma” He told her.

It was Maryse’s turn to blush.

Jack and Urban had to get off soon after to finish working in the studio but not before dropping the news that the two of you worked on a song together and quickly leaving the live leaving the fans to freak out

“He’s lying. What I tell you guys about believing white men!”

LIFEOFMONET

liked by saweetie, chloebailey, wolftyla, michaelbjordan, urbanwyatt, latto777, jackharlow and 756,935 others

lifeofmonet: I see why my ex didn’t want me outside, they love me out here 🤪

view all 5,266 comments

user: ah yesss

dojacat: don’t have too much fun without me!

user: literally so obsessed with you 😍

user: Nate really an idiot for letting you go!

user: need new music now

jackharlow: have fun, ladies!

user: I love single Maryse!!

user: CITY GIRLS UP FR

Maryse and Saweetie walked down the sidewalk with their arms hooked together. They weren’t in the least bit drunk, but laughter has been going on all night. The two spent a total of 30 minutes at the club before deciding to just go to a bar with good music instead.

“What are we having?” Saweetie asks Maryse as they walk to the bar. Sitting down waiting for the waiter to approach them.

“Hm, let’s be lemon drop bops tonight” Maryse told her with a grin.

“Yes hunny! I love the sound of that”

3 lemon drops later Maryse was starting to feel buzzed. She’s always been a lightweight.

Leaning over to talk in her friends ear she said “I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be right back!”

Saweetie nodded before asking if Maryse needed her to come with. Shaking her head no Maryse replied “Stay here! We don’t wanna lose our table!”

Maryse made her way to the restroom in one piece. Thankfully, there was hardly a long wait.

After washing her hands and convincing herself that she wasn’t that drunk, Maryse left the bathroom. As she was turning the corner she ran into what felt like a brick wall.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry—“ Maryse stopped herself once she saw who it was.

It was Nate.

Rolling her eyes, she moved to walk around him but he stopped her.

“I have nothing to say to you, move out of my way.” Maryse gritted her teeth at him.

“Oh c’mon babe, don’t treat me like that.” Nate said, stepping closer to her. Maryse’s back hit the hallway wall.

“I saw your little instagram post.” Nate mentioned

Maryse couldn’t help but roll her eyes again at him. “Really? That’s why you have me cornered right now.” Nate was really starting to piss her off. The alcohol making it worse.

“Let’s get back together.” Nate begged her.

The audacity of this man. “HELL NO! I don’t know if it’s because you’re constantly hitting your head while playing football or what but I’m never getting back together with you. Now, I suggest you leave before Diamonté sees you and kicks your ass.” Maryse told him before pushing past him and walking away

“That’s fine! I don’t want your hoe ass anyway! No one does.” Nate spat out, nose flaring.

Maryse almost turned back around to give him another piece of her mind, but what he said next made her stop in her tracks.

“I’m glad you said no when I proposed to you. You know what they say, you can’t turn a ho into a housewife. You're always going to be the fun girl, the homie. It’s cool to hang out with you until it’s time to settle down. Never going to be wifey material with that nasty attitude.”

Maryse counted to 10 in her head to calm herself down. How dare he. She continued to walk away, not even wanting to give him the pleasure of knowing he hurt her. Making her way back to the table by the bar she ignored Saweetie when she asked why it took her so long and ordered a round of vodka shots. Maryse had a point to prove now. She’ll show him a fun girl.

Few hours later, the crowd in the bar was starting to thin. This particular bar was open 24 hours but it was almost 3 am so people were starting to leave. Maryse and Saweetie were giggling like teenagers. They’ve lost count how many drinks they each had tonight.

“You're really lucky I wasn’t around when he cornered you, that’s all I’m saying!” Saweetie told her

“What were you gonna do? Kick his ass?” Maryse questioned.

“Yes I would’ve went WWE on his ass!” Maryse could not stop laughing at that. All she could visualize was Saweetie suplexing a football player double her size.

“I think we should call it a night.” Maryse said after they stopped laughing with a slur of her words. She was dreading the hangover she was bound to have in the morning.

Saweetie nods in agreement, “yup, I’m done. But you gotta call Uber. My phone died.” She slips off the stool and staggers towards Maryse. “Oh, I love this song! Let’s dance, while we wait! Saweetie screeches as she pulls Maryse towards the dance floor to dance to Sticky by Drake

“There’s hardly anyone dancing anymore!” Maryse complained.

“Who cares?” She argues before pulling Maryse towards her.

“Oh fuck!” Saweetie ends up tripping over her feet, falling and managing to drag Maryse down with her with a yelp. “Sorry!” She laughs.

Maryse would be embarrassed right now if she wasn’t drunk off her ass. She couldn’t imagine what the two of them looked like laying on the bar floor a giggling mess. As much fun she’s having, Maryse is starting to remember why she doesn’t go out with Saweetie.

“URBAN, JACK WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Saweetie yells out

Hearing Jack’s name almost sobered Maryse up completely.

Looking up, Urban looked like he was trying to contain his laughter while Jack had a worried expression on his face as they loomed over top of them.

“You texted me to come pick you up from here.” Jack said, helping you to your feet. Urban doing the same with Saweetie.

“Oh.” Jack stumbles back in surprise as Maryse throws her arm around him in a drunken hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Damn, they’re plastered.” Urban said, trying his hardest to hold Saweetie up right.

Jack just nods before telling him to make sure Saweetie got home safely. He was going to take Maryse back to his place.

“You think you can walk to my truck?” Jack asked Maryse.

“Of course I’m not that drunk.” She was.

Jack guides her out of the bar. Maryse was ashamed to admit it but if Jack’s arm wasn’t wrapped around her waist to hold her up, she would be eating concrete right now.

As they walk out the exit door, Jack decides to carry Maryse to his car, since he parked around the back to avoid the possibility of paparazzi.

“You aren’t going to throw up on me, are you?” Jack jokes

“No” Maryse scuffs

“Hm, are you sure?” Jack laughs, the vibrations from his chest pass through her.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Maryse said as she relaxed into his arms.

Jack places her down for just a few seconds so he could unlock and open the car door.

“Ok, just warn me before you throw up, these are my favorite pair of New Balance. I’m putting you in the car now.”

Maryse insisted again that she wasn’t going to throw up. Jack still didn’t believe her. He lowered her into the car and leaned over her to buckle the seat belt. His LV cologne invaded her nostrils. As Jack pulls back all Maryse could do was give him a big cheesy smile. She reaches her hand forward to try to reach out to him.

“Woah, there’s two of you!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Maryse, you’re adorable, you know that?”

“Yeah, that’s what people say.” She said tiredly before closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the seat.

Jack drives them back to his apartment, not wanting to leave her alone in this state. The ride back was quiet before he heard Maryse speak in almost a whisper.

“Jack?”

“Yes, Maryse?”

“I’m really starting to like you.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Jack. He hated that she probably wouldn’t remember this.

“Don’t hurt me, ok?”

“I could never, Maryse. I could never.”

Jack was left alone in his thoughts for the rest of the ride home.

——————————————————————————

AN: Another long chapter full IG lives, lemon drops, ex boyfriends and drunken confessions! Hope you all enjoyed this, let me know what you think!

Also I’m super proud of that gif, it almost looks real! Haha

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soleilnomoon · 9 months

Note

Prompt: “I don’t like them; I can barely tolerate them.” for Abarai Renji. Once again, I leave it up to you what you wanna do (but maybe enemies to lovers) Yes, I might be on a little Bleach binge right now but it's okay you like it. kiss kiss

*hides face* ok, ok, ok, hear me out, let's pretend i didn't take *insert accurate length of time here* and say i wrote this in a few days. i am so sorry i took forever and ever with this but as u know i can only give u top quality work or else i'll never forgive myself. renji is.......well *motions to him* yk how that man is, he made me suffer!!!! in a good way!!! but still i suffered!!! yk how much i love enemies 2 lovers u big brained beauty 🤭 so ty baby❤️️ also this is my first renji fic and i can't belev it.

5.2k words (don't look at me, just don't), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, enemies 2 lovers, angst city, angst angst city biiiitch (yk the vibez babey), smut obviously, no fluff bc who do u think i am? feat. renji being a mean petty bitch (i guess that makes him a mean dom maybe yes), sub reader bc that's what i want; there's a party with alcohol, ichigo and co. make brief appearances, bathroom sex, choking (he's sf romantic), a lot of cursing bc they're grown that's why, renji is a beast when he's jealous, reader is a lil bit of a brat but lbr who wouldn't be in that situation; mutual ""unrequited"" pining, lots of tension, fingering, rough (consensual) sex, lil bit of degradation, lil bit of a size kink, lil bit of praise kink, idk there's probably more stuff but i'm so tired rn i can't think; um renji obviously comes w his own gd warning; reader is determined to not let this man win but, hello, it's renji he always comes out on top wink wink. (if u see spelling errors/mistakes no u didn't hottie)

“when i write about all of this it becomes its own kind of violence. / i retell the story as myth, as if it were my own body devoured.” — caitlin scarano & “so much of love is violence. the desire / to be split open, invaded, mangled / and made new.” — erin slaughter

HATRED X TASTES X SWEET

you’ve never been cut out for this line of work, but your insistence on eliminating all your shortcomings is commendable. brave, even. it’s something you don’t really think about unless you want to spend the night half-drunk, rambling about the things you should’ve done but never had the courage to do.

like telling a certain red-haired, bullheaded lieutenant that he’s the most ridiculous and excessively arrogant man you’ve ever come across. all in all, you’re pretty sure telling him off won’t phase him; nothing ever does, not really anyway.

at first you try politeness; your grandmother would be proud of how well you’ve learned to bite your tongue. it’s ungraceful, but you fake it well enough that others think your emotional maturity is far above theirs. little do they know, you actually have to literally bite your tongue; simply remaining silent isn’t easy for you anymore. so, when you bite, it’s with rage, months of unshed tears and accumulated spite; you bite your tongue so hard you bleed more every time.

your unsaid words bunch together — tiny soldiers determined to strike in unison without fail — and sit heavily in the back of your throat, ready to launch forward at your command.

but you never say them, and you choke more than once; an unbearable shame to carry with you as he continues to slash at your patience, thin ribbons cascading off you like confetti. you wonder if your anger will lead to your death— or if it’ll lead to his. you intend to keep all of that hidden, though, and keep reminding yourself that eventually he will tire from berating you, from talking to you as if you’re the most incompetent being in all of soul society, from looking at you like your very being disgusts him.

that’s what you tell yourself these days. you like to conveniently ignore the way his dark eyes linger on yours during meetings — you’ve noticed that people have taken to describing them as soulless, cold and critical, unimpressed at everything and anyone.

but you see him — all of him; the raw, feral, powerful and severe side that not many have the misfortune of knowing. they think they get the real version of renji whenever they deal with him, but they never do; you know that now. you doubt it’s even intentional on his part, or maybe — just maybe — he really does hate you.

to put it plainly, as you’ve told rukia and rangiku, the sixth division lieutenant has the biggest fucking chip on his shoulder. despite the walls he continues to put up to keep others from carving out a place for themselves in his life, despite the way his words roll around his mouth, clumsily coasting down the length of his tongue before they pierce the air around you with their toxicity — you’re tired of the way he purposely singles you out time and time again to point out your inadequacies without remorse.

abarai renji is also sick of dealing with you. whenever he thinks he’s found a means of scaring you off, you scurry right back more determined and more obnoxious than ever. which is rich, coming from him.

he claims you’re inconsequential, a nuisance — a pest, even — one that he intends to get rid of permanently. it’s harsh and he’s more than aware of that, but he finds that this is the most appropriate solution to his problem. he could easily ignore you; he could try to keep his comments to himself and try to be somewhat cordial whenever you cross paths. but he won’t. and he has no damn idea why.

“no, no come in, i have plenty of snacks for everyone.”

rukia’s voice is a constant in his life that he’ll always be thankful for. he watches her glide into the room, grinning at the friends she’s invited over, her laughter like soft bells that is easily recognizable even with all the conversation happening. when he feels his chest constrict, an uncomfortable, yet familiar warmth stretching over his skin, he decides to drink so that he can ignore the sensation and forget.

a feeble attempt, because he knows how this will all end — with him drunk off his ass in an even worse mood than he started.

mouth opening, renji prepares to tell rukia to get better sake, when rangiku leads you into the living room where he’s lounging comfortably. the bottle in his hand grows heavier by the second and suddenly he’s not very interested in drinking anymore. already, his foul mood from earlier returns, and every step you take only fuels his irritation; it bubbles underneath his skin, making him frown and grip the bottle tighter.

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s glaring at you — he always is. rangiku feigns obliviousness as she encourages you to go make yourself comfortable while she fetches snacks with rukia. you stare at both of them, wide-eyed, confused — a pleading look sliding onto your face after a few moments, but they assure you both that they’ll be back shortly.

with a sigh you sit on the armchair adjacent to him, determined to just remain quiet in the hopes that he’ll just ignore you for once. sitting up straight, discomfort finds its way to the pit of your stomach, swirling around as you fidget with the bracelet around your wrist. his eyes watch your movements with an obsessiveness that startles him; there’s no reason why he should be interested in the shape of your fingers, there’s no reason why he should be interested in the way you keep brushing stray curls away from your face, and there’s no reason why he should be interested in possibly fucking you when he knows for a fact that he is absolutely uninterested in you.

his disinterest runs so deep it spoils the taste of the sake, but he takes another swig anyway. the alcohol burns as it travels swiftly down his throat, and it just so happens that you glance over at him — innocuous, an attempt to gauge his annoyance level — as his throat bobs and your mouth dries at the sight.

you turn your face away quickly, a traitorous flush crawling slowly along your skin, unjustly warming your cheeks. inhaling deeply, you do your best to will the blush away to no avail. where the hell are rukia and rangiku? surely it can’t take that long to grab snacks. you’re tempted to go find them, but you have a sinking feeling that it would turn you into a coward.

and you refuse to give that man any more ammo against you.

IT’S X (NOT) X YOU

what initially starts as a small get-together, quickly turns into a party; leave it to rangiku to liven things up, her laughter infectious and whimsical, flitting about like a persistent hummingbird as she encourages everyone to play drinking games with her. experience taught him better than to engage because despite his high tolerance, there’s really no beating rangiku when she’s on a roll.

but when you emphatically agree to play with the rest, fury rises in his chest; your audacity, it seems, knows no bounds — and, yes, he understands the hypocrisy in his critique. he just doesn’t care.

the games are every bit as simple and ridiculous as you thought they’d be, but as everyone seems to be in relatively good spirits, you play along. not normally competitive with things like this, you get into the swing of things when you win round after round.

cheers resound nearby at your success, but throughout the evening, you feel renji’s stare and do everything in your power to not give in and look back at him. a tough feat to say the least, as you are always acutely aware of his presence; and when you do happen to sneak another glance, his legs are spread and you curse under your breath for finding that attractive.

foolish, you chide, so fucking foolish.

renji sucks his teeth as he feels a heaviness in his head; groaning loudly he swirls around what little sake he has left in his glass before finishing it.

“you lose again,” rukia’s voice is soft and teasing, but he’s annoyed and can’t be bothered with talking to her right now. she pats his shoulder gingerly before standing up to head to the kitchen. his mind is a mess and he blames you for it completely.

“i don’t fucking care,” he says gruffly to her retreating figure, not bothering to elevate his voice as he’s sure she heard him. and he really doesn’t care; he’s trying to tell himself to calm down, but he can’t.

the fault completely lies with you — of course it does, everything you do agitates every cell in his body. the reason is simple, and he hates that he doesn’t want to admit it — he’s so undeniably attracted to you that it pisses him off. he takes in your appearance for the twelfth time that night, admiring the softness of your cheeks, the fullness of your lips, the way you seem entirely too animated as you laugh at someone’s lame joke — and yes, he can tell it’s not funny from how your laughter dies down after a few seconds.

if he had better sense, he’d stop looking at you, but he can’t now; he might blame the sake for this later.

the intensity behind his gaze is enough to bring an inextinguishable heat along your skin. it’s only unpleasant because it travels down to your lower abdomen and brings about an agonizing ache between your thighs. at first, you do the sensible thing and ignore it; but the longer he stares, the more you want to look over, until finally you can’t take it anymore.

“i’ll be back,” you mumble to the other guests, although you doubt they hear you with how rowdy everyone is being; the noise isn’t unwelcomed, the distraction serves to mask your footsteps when you scurry from the living room to the back corridor, turning corner after corner until you find the bathroom.

a coward — that’s what you are.

you barricade yourself in there without thinking, heart pounding loud enough to disorient you. after several long minutes, you splash water on your face and take a few deep breaths.

“i can’t believe i ran away,” your voice is so soft you barely hear the words — almost as if you’re still in disbelief over the entire situation. there’s something off about renji tonight; the tension between you was more palatable and tangible than normal.

even though you feigned nonchalance as best as you could, there were so many moments where you couldn’t help but watch him too. pitiful. absolutely pitiful. there’s no excuse for it, and yet you struggle to find one anyway.

as you look at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you try to convince yourself to head back out there. sooner or later, people will realize that you’ve gone missing — and rangiku is nosy enough and like a bloodhound when she’s drunk. your time is incredibly limited now.

there’s no reason for you to continue to avoid the inevitable, so you sigh and give yourself a small pep talk before heading back outside.

TRUTH X OR X …

renji’s mood doesn’t improve at all; in fact, it worsens the moment ichigo sits right next to him. he’s not even sure why this sets him off, but even closing his eyes and counting backwards does nothing to keep him calm.

with slight difficulty, renji grits out, “what do you want?”

undeterred, ichigo stares at renji pointedly, voice steady as he says, “you could go after her, you know.”

again, renji sucks his teeth loudly, arms folded against his chest, right leg bouncing slightly as he taps his foot on the floor. punching ichigo would be pointless, and then rukia would get involved and he doesn’t have time to deal with the fallout from that so he keeps his hands to himself.

besides, his anger is obviously misdirected right now. he knows — he knows —but he doesn’t care, so he doesn’t mince his words when he responds with, “go after who?” through his peripheral, he can see ichigo’s patience has also reached its limit.

“you’re not that stupid, so stop acting like it.”

normally, renji would take the opportunity to mes s around and argue back and forth, but he might actually fight his friend if he doesn’t walk away. so, he does; abrupt and without looking back, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.

maybe he just needs to change his approach with you, maybe talking things out would work in his favor; or maybe he needs to fuck you hard enough to purge you from his mind.

he lies to himself when he considers the first option, because it’s the second option that drives him to walk a little faster, head full of impossible thoughts as he wonders just how far you’d let him go.

when renji finally finds you, you’re in the middle of rebuffing the advances of an unfamiliar guest — they’re drunk, handsy, and keep oscillating between giving you cheesy pick-up lines and berating you for rejecting them. but you stand firm, and your voice is relatively loud when you tell them, “for the last fucking time, go away.”

under normal circumstances, renji would let you handle this yourself; he has no desire to play prince charming or be a knight in shining armor. you’re more than capable, and he’s seen the way you fight and argue to defend yourself — but, it’s when they place a wandering hand on your hip that he loses sight of all of that.

a brief moment passes, where your blood boils as you contemplate how best to kick their ass, but you never get the chance. a rather large shadow hovers over you both, but you already know who it is without having to look properly.

renji is a force to be reckoned with on a good day, but he’s at his fucking limit right now.

he doesn’t ask, doesn’t give any options for retreat, doesn’t say a word when he yanks them off with a brute strength that surprises even you.

now, can he really be blamed for throwing them into the neighboring wall hard enough to make a noticeable hole? and is it really his fault that the drunk can hardly walk as they clutch their broken arm while murmuring something unintelligible, something that renji takes as a sign of them wanting a repeat demonstration?

consequences be damned, he gives the drunk a lethal look before they scramble away in fear.

“loser,” he says loud enough for them to hear, but they don’t double back or even try to go toe-to-toe with the hot-headed lieutenant. you watch, half-amused and half-impressed with the unnecessary machismo, but still, you know better than to chastise him right now, especially when your heart sputters out of control from his proximity.

“…thanks,” you say, a faint flush on your cheeks, voice soft, head fuzzy when you realize that renji — aka mr. “i’ll fight you on everything any day of the week unprovoked for no reason other than to drive you crazy” — saved you. unprompted at that.

you make the mistake of looking up at him, your nerves prompting you to take a small step back when you realize that the usual hostility that renji reserves for you specifically is nowhere to be found. in its place is something more unreadable — or, rather, you don’t want to read into it for fear of being wrong.

renji steps closer, which makes you back up again until your back hits the wall and you’re no longer able to escape.

“we need to talk,” he says suddenly, but you shake your head, non-verbally objecting to the idea, curls bouncing wildly with your exaggerated movements. since he knows he’s pressed for time, he grabs your face with his large hand and stops you from moving. “that wasn’t a request.”

swallowing rusty nails would be better than dealing with your conflicting feelings over renji right now, because he’s much too close to you and now you’re forgetting why it is you hate him in the first place. ironically, he’s in the exact same position. so far, he’s acted on impulse over you more times than he can count tonight, but he supposes that’s to be expected — you are a wildcard, after all.

“what if i don’t want to.” your response is clumsy, the words tumbling one after the other. “what if i want you to leave?” you don’t actually mean that, but you throw it at him anyway, to see if maybe this was all a fluke, and maybe, just maybe he’ll remember himself and you both can go back to fighting like usual.

he considers your question, goes so far as to release your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. your sharp inhale and parted lips tell him all he needs to know.

with a slightly raised brow, he asks, “well, do you?”

because if you do, he’ll walk away right now. but he knows what your answer will be, he just has to drag it out of you. he squeezes your neck to remind you to hurry it up, and before you can answer him properly, he places his leg in between yours, pressing close enough that you roll your hips forward while whimpering softly.

he really didn’t think any of this through, but luckily the adrenaline from it all won’t wear off anytime soon, so he’ll improvise along the way. he spent most of the night dealing with a semi-hard cock that wouldn’t listen to reason no matter how many times he tried to stop thinking about you. but now? all of that restraint goes out of the window, and before he can question it, he kisses you.

you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life — some good, most were mediocre and uninspiring — but renji actually takes your breath away. everything about him commands all your attention; from the way his lips move against yours greedily, leaving behind burning kisses that make your nipples harden underneath your clothes — to the way he thrusts his tongue in between your plush lips, licking inside of your mouth hotly, igniting an inextinguishable flame deep inside of you.

he grabs your hip with his free hand, squeezing hard, fingers digging firmly. all the irritation from earlier dissipates completely, leaving you feeling lightheaded and needy; you grind against him recklessly, arousal dampening the front of your panties, clit sensitive as it rubs against the delicate fabric. his cock presses against you — thick, long, and hard — and you wonder if this is why he’s so angry with you all the time.

was it always that simple?

if you asked the question aloud, he wouldn’t know what to tell you — it’s a combination of things, but mostly he’s an idiot; he knows that now, but likewise you’re an idiot too. you just don’t realize it yet.

it’s renji who pulls away first, lightly panting, breath warm against your lips as he releases his hold on your neck. he doesn’t know where he finds the strength to string together a coherent statement, but his voice is low and husky when he speaks. “answer my question.”

you blink at him, completely in a daze, lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “wh-what?” you don’t remember what he asked you, and you don’t care.

“do you want me to leave?”

for some reason, you completely forgot that you told him that. you rub your lips together and run your hands along his chest. “no.” the answer comes out automatically, without hesitation, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

“good.”

SAY X IT X LOUDER

he picks you up with ease, almost as if you weigh nothing; a small squeal spills out of you as you wrap your legs around his waist, and renji gives you a sly smile — one laced with mischief and an unspoken promise of what’s to come.

you’re back in the bathroom again, this time sitting on the counter with renji standing in between your legs. his hands coast along your curvy hips and down your thighs. he’s touching you but he’s not touching you and it’s driving you crazy.

with hurried, eager hands you both undress, and for the umpteenth time you internally curse this style of uniform; still, it doesn’t take too long before his hands are on you again, calloused palms rough and warm against your skin. he places a kiss on your jaw, then another on your neck right underneath your earlobe; each kiss he leaves behind distorts your common sense, makes you feel irrational and impatient. your hands are soft and well-practiced, stroking his stiff cock as his hips jerk forward from your touch.

he can’t remember the last time someone had him this worked up, which pisses him off a little; because that means him fucking you once won’t settle things. at that thought, renji bites your neck and your startled yelp quickly morphs into a moan when he runs his tongue along the mark. he dips his hand in between your thighs, rubbing his thick fingers against your slit. a loud banging on the door has you looking over, and you can’t remember if he bothered to lock it once you both were inside.

your attention nearly falters, but when he pinches your clit you buck your hips, a shiver shooting down your spine at the slight pain.

“eyes on me,” is all he says, seemingly annoyed that you would dare to focus your attention elsewhere, “always keep them on me.” what he means by that, he doesn’t know, but you take the command at face value and nod while swallowing. he slides a finger inside of your wet pussy, and while you initially wanted to keep quiet to avoid suspicion and to prevent anyone from intruding, but you can’t now.

“renji,” you breathe, fingers trembling as you hold onto the counter for support, he thrusts his finger in and out, quick and hard, before inserting another. you clench around him, hips rocking forward as he fingerfucks you and grinds his palm against your clit. you close your eyes and moan louder than you mean to, chest heaving, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. he scissors his fingers inside of you, but quickly removes them without prompting.

“fuck!” you open your eyes again and stare at him in disbelief. “why did you stop?”

he laughs darkly and grabs your face roughly, fingers pressing into your soft skin without remorse. “what did i tell you earlier?” everything about this situation is laughable. he gave you very specific instructions, ones he thought were easy enough for you to follow. for some reason your movements are sluggish, mind in a haze as you scramble to remember but nothing comes to mind.

as you open and close your mouth, looking every bit as adorable as you are alluring, he decides to show you a bit of kindness.

“get down.” his command comes swift, his patience practically nonexistent; precum glides down the head of his thick cock, but he ignores it for the sake of teaching you a lesson. you don’t bother waiting for him to repeat himself and slide off the counter. “turn around.”

like a doll, your movements are dictated by renji with simple, short statements. nothing about that phases you, though; it’s all very exciting, so when you do turn to face the counter, you bend forward and lean over the counter. renji admires the roundness of your ass and slaps it hard.

again, you find yourself moaning loudly, without shame and not caring about the volume of your voice. surely the others won’t pay attention, as they’re still very drunk and are entertaining themselves with more games. another slap on your ass has you grabbing onto the counter again, legs shaking, arousal dripping between your thighs in anticipation. if renji doesn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

he knows he’s taking too damn long, but it’s much more interesting making you work for him. he rubs the tip of his cock against your puffy pussy, gliding it in between your slick folds, your moans sweetly wrapping around him once he pushes inside of you slowly. someone bangs on the door again, making you look over, anxiety quickly filling your head with unnecessary what ifs that almost command your full attention.

with narrowed eyes, renji grabs onto your hair, curls soft in his hand, and yanks hard.

“the fuck did i say earlier?”

goosebumps travel down your arms as a different kind of awareness and clarity surges through you quickly. you blink at your reflection, watching the way he towers over you, his muscles hard and defined — sculpted from years of training and dedication to honing his skills. it hits you then, what he’s really asking you.

“to,” you swallow thickly, throat dry, “to keep my eyes on you always.” you say it all in one breath, gasping when he runs his tongue along the curve of your ear. you don’t know how much more you can take, but you know if you complain, if you say anything he might stop altogether.

renji’s smile is wicked and dark, his lips graze your earlobe, voice deep and gravelly, a huskiness that wasn’t there before as he thrusts into you, burying his cock deeply.

“good girl.”

he refrains from kissing you properly, instead pushing you down so you can lean over the counter again. your mind melts from it all, and you’re panting, heart beating faster and faster as he firmly places a hand on your back.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” he remarks thoughtfully, although you note the slight strain in his voice; as much as he tries to act like he’s not that affected by you, you know that isn’t the case at all. your pussy is every bit as enticing and heavenly as he knew it would be; he pulls back and slams his cock into you all over again, filling you completely. you try to keep watching him in the mirror, but he’s fucking you like he’s angry with himself for being so attracted to you.

and he absolutely is. it’s a truth he fought against for so long that he’s given up on denying it now. your moans drip onto his skin like caramel, sticky and sweet, and when you say his name like that — your voice going higher and higher from the ferocity of his thrusts — he nearly loses his mind.

“fuck,” he says out loud, grabbing your hip roughly, your wetness coating the length of his cock, “you’re taking me so well.” he knows you can’t really answer him, and he likes that; you’re beyond caring at this point, instead focusing on the way his cock reaches a spot that has you bouncing your ass and fucking yourself against him. normally, renji would play around and edge you in retaliation, but he’s too far gone, completely under the spell of your pretty pussy, with how soft and tight it is.

you’re not sure how you got here, but you’re drowning in ecstasy right now. he instructs you to lift your leg to rest it onto the counter, pulling out momentarily to help you position and spread your legs further apart. he plunges his cock into you again, keeping his hips closer as he gives you shorter, frenzied thrusts. your head spins and you can’t think straight, but that doesn’t matter. all you care about is the way renji is angling his hips, rolling them forward to pound into your cunt roughly, balls heavy as they smack against your ass.

“oh, oh, oh.” you swear your life flashes before your eyes, because something possesses him, his strokes shorter, brutal, and frenetic. drool slides down your chin, your voice hoarse from how loud you’ve been. you’re sure someone’s heard you by now, but you don’t care.

how can you?

with renji fucking you like this — merciless and possessive, fingers brusing your skin, almost as if he wants to make sure you’ll be as obsessed with him as he is with you — your common decency, your morals, everything that makes you you, they don’t exist.

all that’s left is this burning desire to let him have his way with you for as long as he wants. thankfully, you have enough sense to not admit that out loud; who knows what kind smugness you’ll be subjected to if renji knew.

but you’re pretty damn transparent about it, he can tell from the way you can’t stop clenching your pussy around his cock, from how your pussy makes loud, lewd squelching noises — ones that he’ll commit to memory so he can revisit them from time to time.

tears roll down your cheeks and you sob as you hold onto the counter as best as you can, back arching, hips rocking against him with a neediness you never knew you had. there’s a tightening in your stomach and your pulse skyrocketing as a flash of white practically blinds you. he watches the way your pussy keeps swallowing the length of his cock, and you finally fall over the edge, orgasm suffocating you with its intensity.

your cunt flutters around him, gummy walls soft and hypnotic, an addiction he never thought he’d have; breathing heavily, his muscles tense and renji groans something that suspiciously sounds like your name. the thought alone makes your face burn and warms your chest in a way that doesn’t make sense. and when he finally cums, he humps into you, cum thick and hot as it spills inside your pussy, mixing with your slick wetness. a completely messy affair, but he doesn’t care — it’s not his bathroom, after all.

legs trembling, you’re limp and incapable of movement, whimpering and whining until he finally pulls out of you.

renji runs a hand down his face, feeling spent but more than satisfied. suddenly his shoulders aren’t so tight and tense, and his mood is much more tolerable. you do your best to stand but almost fall — your legs are useless, turned to jelly because of the man behind you. he chuckles at that, then clears his throat once he realizes. he fully expected there to be a moment of awkwardness after, but it never comes. when he sees your face — lips bruised and swollen, face flushed, eyes glazed with a faraway look — he feels compelled to kiss you again. so, he does. it’s not sweet, nor is it tender, but it still makes your heart swell all the same. he holds you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, doing your best to keep standing, even though your legs are ready to give out.

you don’t know exactly what any of this means, but you do understand him a bit better now. he’s terrible with expressing himself, but you kind of like that about him; and maybe this isn’t the healthiest relationship, but life was uncertain and you’d take renji fucking you like it’s his last day alive over him openly hating you any day.

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