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sailorcerus · 2 years ago

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DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...

prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"

with married!rindou + fem!reader

warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.

you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.

you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?

it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.

it was eleven days before he showed up again. you were, surprisingly, awake when he returned. he was perfectly groomed, albeit a little jaded, but still regarded you with the same coldness you endured since he started leaving. you missed the warmth of your younger days, where he would hold you close and reassure you that you were meant for each other for life.

you decided today was as good a day as any. heck, he even might be gone tomorrow and it would be like you didn't say anything.

"i'm tired of you disappearing for days and then coming back like it was nothing." you said plainly.

he slipped out of his shoes, looking down at you. rolling his eyes lightly but sighing heavily, he started to pull off his tie. "better than me disappearing for good."

a wry smile spread on your face. oh, if he only knew. "is it?"

those two words sent an arrow straight through his heart.

rindou was silent, pretending as if he didn't hear what you just said. but when you scoffed and walked away, he knew it was too real for him to overlook.

"you don't mean that." it was less of a question and more of a please, don't mean it.

you shrugged and went back to your phone, too benumbed to even look at him.

he stared at you, utterly confused as to how to tackle this. "y/n." he said firmly.

you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes, void of any care. "what?"

"i said, you don't mean that." he stood like a tree in the middle of the living area, palms growing sweaty. he loved you. he couldn't lose you, not when you both went through so much to get here.

"don't i?" you responded, placing your phone beside you. not like i see you anymore, anyway. what's the difference?

"stop fucking talking like that and answer me." he snarled. you rolled your eyes, rising to your feet.

"look, rin. who the fuck cares what i think or say? certainly not you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "just—just forget i said anything." you turned towards your bedroom. "goodnight."

wait. he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, backing you against a wall. caging you with arms on either side of you, he stared into your soul, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you.

you just stared back.

his heart clenched. yeah, he was away for weeks at a time. of course he didn't tell you. why would he? why would he burden you with that information?

"you really think me going away forever is better?" his voice was a whisper, but held the sharpness of a knife. "huh? you want me gone forever?"

you sighed. "i didn't say i wanted that. i just meant that, either way, it doesn't matter. going away forever, going away for weeks and weeks but only staying for a night..." your eyes met his, glossy but fierce. "it's the same to me. i don't care what the hell you do anymore, rindou. just let me go to bed."

he studied the person he truly loved for so long, wondering when it all went downhill.

you were impatient, ducking under his arms. "shit..." you cursed, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked away.

he watched you go. and he never saw you come back.

the next morning he woke up, expecting to see you in the kitchen or watching tv, but his house was empty.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer. he pulled up his phone. no texts, no calls. he bustled around the house, looking for some indication of where you went and he found nothing.

he called his brother, thinking that he was the next best person you would've gone to, but ran had no contact from you.

rindou sat on the couch, nothing to do but sit and wait. he looked around. everything was well-kept, pristine, and sanitized. it was like no one lived here at all. no one except a lonely spouse in an eternal cycle of wait for a husband that wouldn't even give them the time of day to say, i'm heading out.

i love you.

goodbye.

he leaned back, closing his eyes. he doesn't even say goodbye.

he hated himself for it.

hours passed and he didn't move from the couch. he knew you sat there for much longer, day after day, waiting for him. no wonder you were uncaring. coming home meant nothing if he would simply leave again.

then he heard the click of the door. he practically jumped off the couch, racing over to the entrance. he saw you with a couple groceries hooked on your forearms, struggling to keep the door open long enough for you to slip inside.

he rushed over. yanking the door open with such force, it slammed into the wall causing you to jump. rindou winced a little, steadying the door from swinging wildly.

you eyes met his and your face immediately scrunched with confusion. "what are you doing here?"

"well... it's my house..?" he said dumbly.

you pressed your lips into a line. "hm."

you expected me to be gone again, he thought bitterly. he cleared his throat. "let me help you with these," he alleviated the weight off your arms, bunching up a couple bags and carrying them all in one go. "you know, you could just order them for delivery."

you sidestepped him and walked to the kitchen. "why would i do that?"

"so you can have them brought to you from the comfort of your home." he responded lightly. following robotically, he was unsure where everything was supposed to be put away.

you laughed, catching him off-guard. on closer inspection, though, he knew that wasn't a genuine laugh. "rindou, do you think i want to stay in this place any more than i have to?"

you said it so casually, grabbing a bag from him and stocking the cabinets and fridges.

his stomach swirled with much more unease than he'd ever experienced on the job. it was the way you simply didn't care anymore, talking about the rift between you and him as if you were reciting the weather report.

fight me, he wanted to say. kick, yell at me, scream at me, do anything at all to show me you're upset. he knows he fucked up. you definitely know he fucked up. so why weren't you telling him that? why weren't you cursing him out for being a bad husband? your nonchalance came from a long time being cast aside, so much so that you expected it to happen; so much so that you gave up on him.

indifference was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage, and you were about to bang it shut.

he observed you, thinking about how many times you'd busy yourself with mundane errands to feel like you were living. how many times you'd come back to this flat, putting away shit you'd probably never touch. how many times you'd listen to the silence ringing off the walls.

he set the bags down and held your shoulders, turning you to face him. "i've taken the next few days off."

you smiled insincerely. "great."

rindou felt like a kid again, when he had work up enough courage to ask you out. "we... we could spend them together."

your eyes squinted. "why?"

he spluttered. "what do you mean, why?"

you swatted his hands off your shoulders. "god, i shouldn't have said anything," you mumbled. "rindou, this is just you feeling guilty because of what i said last night, okay?"

he frowned. "it's not."

your eyebrows raised as you rummaged through another grocery bag. "it is. don't pretend like you're gonna change. what did you think we were going to do—go out together? like old times, when we were happy and in love?"

his face burned. anyone else—if it were anyone else speaking so flippantly with him, he'd have them beat til they're unconscious. and past tense? when we were in love? his brain was doing backflips trying to find a way to salvage the situation. "yes."

you laughed that fake laugh again. it grated on his ears. "that's funny. i was just feeling a little vulnerable last night, is all. had a couple of drinks and maybe was feeling sentimental about the days when everything was simple."

rindou stepped closer to you, ripping the bag away from your hands and towering over you. "it is simple. we can—"

"we can't do anything." you curled your hands into fists, your voice trembling. "can you just..?" go away?

rindou's breath caught in his chest, fully anticipating another heartless laugh.

he hated it when you cried. he hated it when you were angry. he would do anything for your eternal happiness, he realized, and he'd been falling short of his promises for far too long.

rindou leaned onto the counter, bending at the waist. his hand rested on your waist and his eyes were laser focused on your expression, a confusing mix of frustration, sadness, and the will to remain emotionless.

"baby," he whispered.

"don't fucking call me baby." you hissed.

he pursed his lips, unwilling to compromise. "pretty baby. i don't wanna go on like this." his fingers brushed your cheek. "i don't want to you to be sad anymore."

"well, isn't that righteous." you rolled your eyes though your heart ached. it ached for him, for the boyfriend he was and the husband he promised to be.

he glared at you. "would you just listen?"

"no, rindou." you shoved him away from you, despite the overwhelming urge telling you to pull him in and hug him tight. "stop acting like i'm the one making things difficult. like you're being a fucking saint trying to bring us back together when the only reason we're like this is because of you." your voice became watery, growing in volume as you finally succumbed to all the hurt and pain inside you.

"i tried to be understanding." you sobbed. "i did. i tried. you have your work and i know that it's dangerous. but seriously—you promised you'd make time for me. you promised." you sniffed, rubbing tears of your cheeks, ranting without any goal in mind. "you don't even say goodbye."

he stood frozen, your emotions hitting him square in the face and leaving him dazed. it was like the only thing he could do was stand and watch.

"i didn't want to do this." you said tearfully. "i'm sorry i said anything, okay? i'm sorry. just—leave me alone."

his eyes narrowed. "never. i'm never leaving."

your glassy eyes shot up to meet his with a hard look of their own.

"i love you, y/n. and i'm never letting you go." he said firmly, stepping closer and closer to you. he was done beating around the bush; you should know that no matter how many times you push him away, he will never leave you. he'd make up for his mistakes; all you had to do was give him a chance.

you scoffed. "love? you love me?"

he caged you against the opposite counter with two arms on either side of you. "yeah. i do."

you stared up at him, tears staining your cheeks. "you're a liar."

"y/n." he growled—a warning.

"can't go back into the world having the poor little wife weighing on your conscious, is that it?" you snapped. "never stopped you before."

"y/n."

"no." you ducked under his arm, leaving the kitchen. you evaded his attempts to pull you back, running to the closet. grabbing a coat and your purse, you slipped on your shoes.

"where the fuck are you going?" rindou yelled after you. "this conversation isn't over."

"it is for me." you mumbled, throwing the front door open and ignoring the fire in the pit of your stomach. you got into your car and started it up. the garage opened at an agonizing pace, enough time for rindou to come bursting out the door. he stood at your window.

"y/n, you are not leaving. get out of the car."

"fuck off." you grit your teeth, your eyes raising to the rearview mirror to reverse. you screeched to a halt when you saw rindou's purple hair in the reflection. you gaped, rolling down your window and whipping your head to face him. "are you insane? move!"

he shook his head, standing in all his glory right behind the car. his arms were crossed and his weight rested on one hip; the picture of stubbornness. "you're gonna have to run me over."

you scoffed, laughing breathlessly at the absurd situation. "i'll call the police."

"you won't."

you grabbed your phone. "i will, don't try and stop me from leaving."

"you won't call the police, and you wanna know why?" rindou let his head fall to his shoulder. "you love me. i know you do."

you opened your mouth to retort.

"don't even try to deny it." he chuckled lowly. "you're just protecting yourself, baby. you're protecting yourself from the nightmare you call a husband, right?"

your eyes rounded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

he walked to your side of the car, reaching through the opening to flick the window button. he slipped his hand out as it began to slowly slide back up.

"leave, then. just know i'm not going to stop my efforts to get you back." he smiled as he went back into the house.

the window closed completely.

you were brimming with annoyance, yet you couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache when you pulled out of the driveway, leaving your house—and rindou—behind.

this was so self-indulgent lol. i know they mean well, but when people apologize so quickly and with such intensity, i just get frustrated that i had to get to such a low point to see any remorse or change from them. and of course, i can't argue without crying my eyes out. anyway, do we want a part two?

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sailorcerus · 2 years ago

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SICK WITH YOU, tokyo revengers.

cw new side quest unlocked: babysitting your sick boyfriend bc he got too cocky in a brawl. bonten tl ( in my head )

+ feat: haitani ran + rindou.

ran lays his head on your shoulders, whimpering at the feeling. his body's hot, he feels like he's going to explode. unable to keep it in any longer, he drags out your name in raspy whisper.

ran is sick. sick and bedridden due to spraining a muscle. as dangerous as he is now, he's never gotten rid of the peculiar habit of trying to appear fancy. as the causes and effects take its course, one lead to another and ran's back to being nursed by you.

is ran annoying? by default.

does it get worse depending on his mood? absolutely.

combine a regular ran with a sick ran and you get the personality of a five-year-old: fussy, hungry, lazy, sleepy and wants undivided attention. when ran is sick it leads to him being clingy. he wants your touch — whether it's by holding hands or trapping you under his limbs.

"okay, can i pleaseee move? pretty please? cherry on top?" begging for your freedom, you wiggle around but not enough to trigger his headache.

digging his head deeper into the junction of your neck-to-shoulder, he mutters a "no," squeezing your waist tighter.

the position, for him, is heavenly comfort. laid atop you, under the soft duvets. his body's stationed between your legs with one of it resting on his back. his hair's tousled, strands of lavender and black scattered across his face and your chest. if you were to be honest, he looks pretty. domestic times like this drag you away from the violent ways of your boyfriend outside the house. well, you would admit it if it wasn't for his body sinking you down the mattress. seriously, you can't breathe. as much as you adore him you're not dying like this.

"ran, sweetie, please get off me."

"don't want to."

"alright." you accepted defeat.

nothing could've prepared you for the absolute battle that came with a sick and irritated rindou. ever since the sun snuck behind the clouds he's been coughing for his life like a sick victorian child. he does not need your pestering ringing his ears. he loves you a lot but you need to put that seaweed soup down.

upon seeing your menacing figure at the door, rindou immediately hides his face under a pillow. he knows what you are — what you're here for. you won't win against him nor will you get past his barriers especially if it's the soup in your hands.

"rin, i brought some painkillers, water and an energy drink."

mission failed tremendously. barriers have been broken beyond repair. the intruder has won.

peeking at you, his hand reaches out for yours. "gimme the energy drink, please."

"sit up first," you urged him, sitting at the edge of the bed. "and you're going to have some water first."

groaning, rindou sits up and slouches. he shifts his body's weight on one side to lean onto you. he slides one hand under your shirt, mindlessly caressing your stomach. it doesn't take long before another wave of pain hits him like a tsunami. immediately, he cowers.

"hurts a lot," rindou groans.

"i know, baby," you spoke softly, squeezing his thigh in a controlled rhythm. "you have to take the painkiller for help."

rindou succumbs to the pain. being rendered unable to disagree, he can only nod once as a reply.

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sailorcerus · 2 years ago

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read this!

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃]

— CHAPTER ONE | coming back after leaving the country for eight years, you reunite with old friends, family, and ex boyfriends.

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

word count. 7.9k (long sorry not sorry)

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

content. angst, first meetings, mentions of alcoholic mother in rehab, drinking mentions, bonten timeline, smoking mentions from Ran in flashback

a/n: nothing too bad this chapter but there's smut next chapter, promise 💯😎

November 2005

“Shion,” you groaned and rubbed your head, massaging your scalp to try and tame your roaring headache. “Is your room available? I drank too much.”

“HUH?!” he yelled in your ear, unable to hear him over the music. Given your location, you didn’t get mad at him for screaming at you considering the fact you’re at a party with loud music. But still, it was probably the worst thing he could’ve done.

“I said—” You raised your voice slightly, moving to speak in his ear. “Can I go to your room?”

He took another chug of his drink and nodded, pointing up the stairs. “First room on the left.” You planted a kiss on his cheek and thanked him before stumbling up from the couch. Following his instructions, you were on your way upstairs but the amount of moving bodies as they danced took up space, making you confused so you opened the first door you saw and locked it behind you.

You wasted no time before flopping onto his bed, fisting his sheets as you groaned when your headache thumped again. The sheets were so comfortable and warm you almost fell asleep. The door opened again suddenly and you fought back another groan when the booming music from downstairs passed through and blasted your ears.

“Shion, close the damn door,” you said tiredly, uncaring about the aggression in your voice.

“Hot girl in my bed, that’s new,” the voice said suddenly and you stilled. Using all your strength, you blinked up at the man in the doorway. He was tall, holding onto a lighter in one hand, braids slipping past his shoulders.

“This isn’t your bed…it’s Shion’s,” you groaned, explaining slowly. The headache makes your tone sound more annoyed than you’d planned on using, especially with meeting a hot stranger. “Now shut the door.”

He snorted. “Shion’s is next door. This is my room.”

Your head pulsed sharply when you sat up instantly, spitting out rapid fire apologies as you knelt on his bed and redressed the sheets you crumpled from its neat position from lying down starfish on his bed. “I’m so so so sorry.”

"'S cool." His eyes were only focused on one thing, the sight of your dress riding up your thigh as you reached forwards, sliding your hands across the sheets to smooth them down and fluff up his pillows. The sight of your bare thigh was sensual, making him wish for nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers along it. He bet your skin was soft, inviting even, and his hands itched to sink his fingers into its warmth. The hunger stirred within his body as he watched you push the dress back down, covering your thigh once again as you slid off his bed, locking eyes with him. His eyes travelled up your body quickly until they stopped at your face, the intensity caused you to look away, flustered.

"So..." you started, swinging your awkwardly stiff arms by your side. "I'm gonna go..." you said, unable to handle the awkward situation.

"There's no point. There's a couple in there, you know how parties get."

"Oh," you breathed out, an expression that can be interpreted as sadness or defeat crossing your features.

"You can stay here though. As long as you don't mind smoking," he gestured to the lighter in his hands, and the unrolled joint tucked between his two fingers.

"I don't mind."

"Cool." He kicked the door shut behind him and moved to sit on his bed and pat the spot next to him. You were a little hesitant before stepping over to the bed, shifting backwards until your back pressed against his cold wall and crossed your legs.

"Why're you so far back? Come closer," he said, reaching out a hand, motioning with his free hand for you to come forward. You shook your head meekly, lightly scratching your nails down your arm. "C'monnn," he insisted, reaching out a hand and gently pulling you towards him.

Your protests were ignored before you sighed and allowed him to pull you forward. You sat next to him, intimidated by the proximity of your skin to his. His scent washed over you, causing goose bumps to rise on your skin as you plucked at the loose thread on his blanket.

He put the joint in his mouth, and nudged at your knee to grab your attention. "Do me a favour. Grab that candle in my drawer for me."

You obediently got up and crawled to the end of the bed, idly pulling down your dress when it rode up too far and opened his drawer. You were oblivious to his gaze down your legs, his strong eyes now turning red as he took a hit, blowing smoke through his nostrils.

"Is this the candle?" you asked, bringing out a lavender scented candle and waved it around.

He squinted his eyes to get a better look at it. "Yeah," he muttered, shifting onto his back, kicking a leg up and lacing his hand behind his head.

"Why do you have so many candles? Do you smoke a lot?" you asked, handing it to him and fitting yourself back next to him.

He was still relaxed, inhaling the smoke deeply and shook his head. "Only when I'm stressed," he exhaled, lifting his head back and blowing the smoke out into the air. You shifted on the bed, nervousness clawing at your insides as you found your eyes drawn to his lips wrapped around the joint. He was quite skilled, keeping his lips taut while smoke puffed out and his jaw clenched. Your heart rate picked up, beating heavily against your chest as you stared at his lips with longing.

As if sensing your unease, his eyes locked with yours, staring at you intensely for several seconds before he cleared his throat and removed the joint from his mouth.

"Why are you so nervous around me?" he asked, noticing the change in your behaviour.

You glanced up at him, surprised at his question. "Um, I'm not."

His eyebrows rose up to his forehead. "Sure you aren't. You're practically running away whenever we make eye contact." He reached out to poke your knee, laughing when you jumped slightly. "See? You're so jumpy, relax." His laughter calmed you down somewhat, allowing you to meet his gaze for longer than five seconds. He offered you the joint and you shook your head.

"You nervous? Never smoked before or something?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he spoke.

You looked down at your lap, shaking your head. "Yeah, never. I can't handle the smell."

"No one likes the smell. It's about how it makes you feel," he responded, the words coming out slow as the joint began to take its course inside his body. He rolled his neck, working out any tension he felt and ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip.

You snorted, hiding a giggle between your palm. He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow at you but smiled and asked, "What's so funny?"

"You sound like a hippie," you giggled again, recounting his words and lowering your voice to match his pitch. "It's about how it makes you feel," you said between laughs.

He was too high to really understand what you were saying, but found himself laughing anyway. Eventually the laughing slowed down and the both of you sat silently. You were watching intently as he took another hit before offering it to you again.

Feeling more comfortable, you accepted and shifted closer to him as he sat up, leaning his body weight onto one elbow. Ran held it up to your lips and your eyes met as he instructed you on what to do.

"Inhale," he said, pausing briefly to watch your lips purse around the joint before continuing. "Slowly...hold it...now exhale," he finished, smiling encouragingly when you sucked in deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and you panicked, pulling away before exhaling and coughing harshly as your lungs protested the smoke.

Ran burst into laughter and shoved the joint back into his mouth, taking an easy hit as you doubled over, fighting to catch your breath as you tried to breathe properly. A heatwave flushed over your body when you looked back up and heard him laughing at you.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny," you protested, opting between smacking him or suffocating him when he didn't stop laughing. A pillow was right there and nobody would know it was you...but you shook the thought away and grabbed the pillow instead, throwing it at him.

He swatted it away, breathing heavily from laughing. "Alright, I'll stop, I'll stop." He shifted so he was sitting upright against the headboard. "Wanna give it another try?"

"Fuck no," you hissed, shaking your head and pointing and the tiny joint. "That's a whole murder weapon. I don't know how you do it."

"Your lungs are just weak, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" you blinked, caught off guard for a moment and flustered from his teasing.

"Well, I don't know your name so," he shrugged, taking another hit, blowing the smoke in your face and laughing when another round of coughs erupted from your lungs.

"You never asked for my name," you retorted, placing your chin on your knees. "Do you wanna know?"

"Is it necessary?" he questioned, lazily playing with the thin strands of hair sticking to his forehead. "How badly do you wanna tell me?"

"Not that badly. I don't really care," you shrugged.

"You just want me to keep calling you sweetheart. I can see right through you," he grinned widely, flashing his teeth at you. You pursed your lips, trying to keep them in a straight line before failing, breaking into a wide grin of your own.

"Maybe I do... so what?" you lowered your voice suggestively, feeling the failed attempt at hitting a joint float through your system, your body and mind feeling lighter by the second. "Besides, you never told me your name."

His tongue traced the edge of his lips, distracted by the way your eyes were staring at him, full of lust. You took the opportunity to lower your gaze to his mouth, wondering if it tasted as good as it looked. You saw his eyes follow your path and wonder crept in when he stared intently at you.

"C'mere," he whispered, beckoning you over. . When you leaned in close enough, your nose brushed his, sending sparks through your entire body. You instinctively pulled away when he whispered his name into your ear.

"Nice name," you responded, searching his eyes and staring deep into them. He was leaning in slowly, his lips touching yours before stopping just short, creating a confusing mix of emotions within your body.

A fire burnt somewhere in the pit of your stomach as all you could think was his lips against yours. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips firmly against his. When he felt your lips part, his tongue swept in, running along the edges of your mouth.

Your fingers dug into the sheets when his arm traced down your side, resting against your hip. A low moan rumbled from your chest as you tilted your head to the side, accepting the gracious slide of his lips against yours.

He pulled away after a moment, resting his forehead against yours. He stroked his thumb across your cheek before dragging it down to your lips, wiping the wetness away before leaving his hand splayed on your cheek, forcing you to lift your head up and meet his gaze.

"You gonna tell me your name now?" he demanded, staring directly into your eyes.

You parted your lips to speak before the door burst open and a very worried Shion stumbled through. "What the hell?! Why didn't you tell me you were in here! I thought you died or something!" His words were slurred, the alcohol he'd been drinking kicking into full gear as he did a dramatic double take at the sight of you and Ran on his bed. You were sitting next to him, your dress ridden up your thigh so high you might as well be naked. His eyes travelled up to your face, glaring at the grip Ran had on your cheek. "What the fuck are you doing?"

You pushed yourself away from Ran and fixed up your dress, clearing your throat. "Nothing."

His eyes narrowed and he stepped towards you, gripping your face until you looked up at him. Your eyes were slightly red and he frowned. "...you're high."

"Nah," you scoffed, swatting his hand away. "I'm not."

Shion ignored you and directed his glare over at Ran who was watching the situation with an amused smirk on his face. Shion grabbed onto your arm and helped you slide off the bed and fix your clothes. "Come on I'll get Mira to drive you home."

"Okay," you hummed, turning around to wave at Ran before waiting outside the door.

Shion turned to look at his friend and scowled. "There's hundreds of girls in this house. Sleep with any of them. I don't care, just not her. That’s my fucking friend, okay?"

Before Ran could respond, Shion already turned around and slammed the door behind him.

PRESENT DAY—2015

The entire drive from the airport to your brother’s house was filled with anticipation and silence. Your leg bounced restlessly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you looked out the window. A familiar feeling of nostalgia washed over your body and reminded you of the last eight years you spent away from this place. Studying abroad was not easy, but definitely worth it. Without the distractions, family drama, (ex) boyfriend drama, you were able to focus on yourself for once, and put your own needs and interests first. You were able to meet new people every day, able to properly form new relationships in university without the fear of people judging you for the mistakes you made in high school. One thing about the neighbourhood you grew up in was that it was a tight-knit community. Everybody was well acquainted with everyone, meaning any gossip or secrets spread around like wildfire. One small mistake and everybody knew within a week.

Pushing the unpleasant memories aside, it was still good to be back home.

“We’re here,” the driver announced, parking his car outside your brother’s house. His voice snapped you out of your haze, blinking yourself back to reality. The driver was looking back at you, smiling.

“Oh! Thank you so much,” you said heartily, digging in your pockets for your change. You handed it to him and thanked him once more before sliding out of the car.

Grabbing your suitcase, you took in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the butload of questions your brother will ask you for disappearing randomly for eight years. Your fist hesitates before knocking on the door, biting your lip when you hear the tv inside pause, then a flurry of footsteps.

The door opened and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. He’s blinking rapidly, probably busy trying to distinguish the difference between reality and delusion.

“Hi Hiro,” you decided to speak first, worrying your lip between your teeth as you waited for him to say something.

“No,” he shook his head, backing away from the door. “No this isn’t real.”

“It’s real, I’m back.” You smiled, letting go of your suitcase to hold your arms open. Your heart warmed when he pulled you in for a hug, gently swaying you side to side as he took a moment to drink this information in. You don’t blame him for being this tongue-tied, if anything it’s a positive reaction when you were prepared for yelling and arguments.

“Holy shit, I missed you so much,” he spoke into your shoulder, fighting back from lifting you off the floor. He pulled away and looked at your face again, squishing his hands against your cheeks just to make sure once again he wasn’t hallucinating. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?! I was so worried!”

He finally let you go and stepped aside as you wheeled your suitcase in.

“I was nervous. I thought everybody hated me for leaving,” you admitted, looking guiltily down at the ground.

“Yeah, that was so uncool,” he responded and you felt a wave of remorse flush through your body. “I just woke up one night to a million calls from Mom telling me you left the country. I didn’t even get to say goodbye, man.”

“I know, Hiro. It was a stupid mistake. I just…” you paused, melancholy flickering on your face, then looked up at him staring you down with a soft look on his face. He knew you were going through a lot back then, but due to your obsession of keeping your personal life a little too personal, he was unable to know anything about you until it was too late and you were already gone.

You took a moment to take a deep breath, voice shaky as you continued, “I got into an argument with someone, then I fell out with Mira not even an hour later and I just lost it that night. So I checked my emails and saw that University abroad, the one I applied to as a joke, actually accepted me. So I just said fuck it and left. Obviously I regretted it but it was too late for me to go back with the limited money I had, so…yeah.”

“Who did you argue with…?” he asked, fiddling with his hands anxiously. “Who was it?”

You wiped a stray tear that slipped from your eyes and faked a smile, speaking through a watery laugh. “I’d rather not discuss this right now. How have you been?”

Hiro frowned, disappointed you still didn’t trust anybody enough to talk to them about stuff that’s clearly bothering you, but sighed all the same. “It’s good, man. I got into university too. In my second year right now.”

“Oh my god, which school?” you asked, stepping aside as he carried your suitcase further into the house. “Wait, no. What do you study?”

“I study Computer Science, obviously.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot you were a nerd,” you fake grimaced, laughing when he muttered for you to shut up. “Are you at the top of your class? You always liked computers and…hacking and stuff.”

“Should’ve hacked into that airplane and turned it back around.”

“Yeah, wish you would’ve too,” you sighed, flopping down on the couch. The leather sunk in when you sat, and you inhaled sharply, closing your eyes and taking in the familiar scent of your childhood home.

Looking around now, the house was fairly empty and dull. It was like the aura had changed, now eerily and dreary. “Hey, Hiro,” you called out to your brother in the kitchen, the sounds of plates being brought out of cabinets comforting you. “Where’s ma? I tried to reach her when I landed but her phone went straight to voicemail.”

“Oh about that…” He stilled for a moment, and you froze, unlike the sound of his tone.

“...Hiro..?”

There was a sound of footsteps as he walked back into the living room, leaning against the door and folded his arms over his chest. “She’s back in rehab.” A scowl crossed his face and he cursed under his breath. “She’s been in and out for the last eight years but I haven’t been speaking to her like that.”

“Are you kidding me?” You sat upright, frowning. “When? Why? How?”

He waved his hand flippantly. “I don’t know. Don’t care either. She can rot inside that damn building for all I care. Anyway, you hungry?”

“Yeah. Plane food sucks ass.” The two of you grinned at each other as he ran upstairs to grab a Chinese food pamphlet. The doorbell rang and you sat up to open the door, thanking the delivery man for handing you a letter. When Hiro came back down, you handed him the letter, urging him to open it.

“You’re so nosy,” he complained, tossing the pamphlet at you along with his phone. “Oh shit.”

“What?” you responded, scrolling through the menu.

“My friend’s getting married in two weeks. They’re inviting to come.”

“Ooh, what friend?” you ask, curiously, mentally deciding between the spring rolls and the chow mein. “Are they nice?”

“Yeah, her name is Hinata Tachibana. She’s really nice.”

“You both in the same class?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I’m friends with her boyfriend’s friend. So when we hang out, I see her sometimes. I’m not really close with her though, so I’m confused why I’m invited.” He slumped against the couch, deep in thought.

“Don’t think about it too much. Just go, eat loads of cake and have fun. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, picking at his nails before sliding his eyes in your direction. “Do you wanna come? It’s been a while since you’ve been back so I assume you have no friends.”

“Damn. Straight in the heart, huh?”

He grinned and looked down at the couch. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I know what you meant, don’t worry. But you’re right though.” Your shoulders slumped down as you pinched your lips together. “I’m too scared to contact any of my friends right now.”

“Understandable. So, you wanna come?”

You thought about it for a moment before agreeing. It wouldn’t be that bad. You spent the last year perfecting and moulding yourself into a more social being, no longer that super awkward antsy pushover teenage girl that went along with anything anyone said because you were too scared that they’d dislike you.

The food came twenty minutes later and you spent the next hour or two eating and laughing with your brother whilst watching shitty movies on Netflix. Words couldn’t explain how much you missed him, how much you missed your old home, your old life. Though your phone was dry, no new notifications, nobody to text or call, just being at home with your brother was enough for you.

The next day on your way down to the kitchen to grab some water, the doorbell rang. On the list of people you were initially hoping you’d run into eventually, versus the list of people you planned to avoid like the plague, Shion happened to fit in the middle of both of them.

You stared dumbfounded at him, watching his eyes widen as he mumbled, “You’re actually back…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, your question along the lines of, “How’d you know,” being interrupted as he stepped forward, sweeping you in his arms. Your body felt like it was suffocating, your poor bottle of water twisting and spilling onto the floor as your fist enclosed it.

He fought back on the urge to pick you off the floor, wanting to keep things as friendly as possible, for now… before stepping away, planting his hands by his side. He blinked at you again, you blinked back, the both of you just waiting to say something other than hey…

Your brother came down the stairs just in time and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “Dude. When I said she was back I didn’t expect you to come over right away,” he grinned at Shion, thus momentarily snapping him out from his daze.

He was hesitant to look away from the face he’s missed for over eight years and it took him a second before gathering his wits, his mind slowly coming back from its spiralling haze to respond. “I had to see it for myself. I still don’t believe this.”

You swatted his hand away when he reached out to poke your cheek. “I’m not a ghost.”

“I know. I know. It’s just—wow. You look good.” He forced an awkward smile at you. His words, to those that don’t know the context of your relationship, seemed innocent enough; your brother seemed to be pleased with the compliment, happy that he wasn’t here to lash out at you for leaving. But to you, your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you remembered the last incident between you two before you left.

For a split second, you swore you could feel his hands again as they ran down your sides, could feel how strong his shoulders were as you gripped onto them with everything you had.

Shion could tell you were thinking of the same memory and gave you a crooked smirk as you were unable to retreat your eyes from his face.

“Why is it so awkward…?” Hiro broke the awkward silence and you cleared your throat.

“Nothing. Shion come in.” You stepped out of the way to let him inside.

“Nah, nah I can’t. I just came by to see if it was true. I gotta go to work.” Your face fell at the news and a flash of guilt crossed him momentarily. “But I’ll come see you later tonight. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whispered back, giving him a long searching look in his eyes. His breath stuttered for a short moment, his hand just aching to reach out and touch your cheek but the presence of your brother held him back.

Shion left with a wave not long later and you shut the door, pressing a hand over your heart and fighting the urge to bang your head against the door.

“Did you both hook up or what?” Hiro asked as he opened the fridge door.

“Sorry, what?”

“You’re both awkward as shit and you look embarrassed right now.” He reached for the milk at the back of the fridge door and stepped over to the cabinet to grab a bowl.

“I’m embarrassed because I don’t want to talk about the topic of sex right now with my younger brother.”

“It’s not a big deal. I slept with your friend once,” he said casually, pouring his milk into the bowl, and you cringed when you saw him pour the cereal last.

His words took a minute to sink in. “Excuse me, WHAT?!”

He took a spoonful of cereal and shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

“Which friend? Hello?! When was this?! Why—oh my god ew.”

He frowned at you. “I’m not repulsive. Chill out.” He took another spoonful and wiped some milk spilling past his lips. “It was Dona.”

“Dona—” you paused for a moment. “When was this?”

“I dunno…like two years ago? Or like three? To be frank, I lost track of time years ago. Could’ve been last week for all I know.”

You shuddered at the thought of your old friend with your brother, but pushed that sick image away from your mind. “Have you spoken to her recently?”

“Yeah. We talk from time to time. Why? Don’t want me to tell her you’re back?”

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Hiro.” He nodded in your direction then refocused his gaze back onto his cereal. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to wash away that mental image from my head.”

“Oh whatever.”

~*~

Weddings in all honesty weren’t something you truly cared about. It was bizarre, growing up and seeing all this talk about getting married to the ‘one’ and spending the rest of your life with them. Sure, for some couples it was a main goal they wanted to achieve, but with you, it wasn’t something you truly cared about. Women would freak out that their time was soon coming to an end because they weren’t married and still didn’t find the right man. But truthfully, how did someone know who was the right man? Is there some sort of criteria box to tick off? Nobody actually knows someone from the get go, and you can hide your true self for years so it truly doesn’t matter how well you think you know someone, you will never know if they were the right one.

That all changed when you met Haitani Ran though. He was the right one for you. If someone asked you how you knew, you’d have to tell them you don’t know. It was more of a gut feeling. That lonesome feeling you got in your gut whenever you were away from him. That feeling could just be anxiety, scared he might not come back home alive doing what he does. But he reassured you time and time again that he would be okay. That he’s fine and doesn’t need you worrying. It was a natural instinct to worry. Especially with the countless times you had to help clean his cuts, bruises, and scratches on his pretty face.

That feeling you got was indescribable. Being with and around him changed you for better and for worse. He made you truly understand what it was like to love someone no matter how toxic it may have been. But he also managed to bring out your worst, the side that you wanted to shove down and stomp on before you left the country.

Being back now, you feel that side of you inside just chilling down there, as if waiting for the right moment to come out. It’d been successfully tamed for eight years, so the shackles were tight and it was properly chained up, and you hoped that you wouldn’t love someone else like him, hoped that nobody else managed to bring out that side of you again.

Standing here in this chapel right now as you watched Hiro congratulate his friend Hina and her now husband Takemichi on their new marriage, you couldn’t help but wonder just how perfect their relationship was. If they had brought out any bad sides in the other and had to take month long breaks in order to piece themselves back together.

The wedding photos make them seem happy enough, and you even shed a tear despite not knowing who any of these people are. They just seemed so…perfect. The perfect bride and groom. The perfect couple.

It was…revolting. Seeing them so happy and smiling constantly made you sick to your stomach. It wasn’t fucking fair that they managed to find each other, find the ‘one’ on their first try without any hardships to come between them. Guaranteed you were purely projecting, and you were aware of that, but still. It was better to assume given all the pictures you saw in the photo album of them still dating when they were 14 years old.

You couldn’t properly enjoy the wedding without tearing up slightly, wondering just what went wrong in your life that made you such a bitter human being. These people were happy to enjoy a new stage in their life and you were just being a sulking mess in the corner of the room, wishing bad on everybody as they smiled.

Seeing everyone happy with their friends, dancing, smiling, drinking, it made you jealous. The only friends you have in your life right now are your brother (if that can even count) and Shion. The loneliness never sunk in more at this point. Seeing the crowds of people in this wedding having fun…you never felt more alone in that moment.

Your mind travelled back to when you had friends, were stable in your life, had a boyfriend, and most importantly you were happy. Before you fucked it all up when you struggled on balancing all four.

JANUARY 2006

You grabbed your lunch tray and practically bounced over to your friends table, blinded by delight to notice the way Mira and Dona were shifting in their seats, uncomfortable with your presence.

“Hey guys!” You sat down on the bench in front of them, a wide smile on your face.

Mira mirrored your smile, mumbling a hey back as she poked her food with her fork. Dona didn’t bother to cast you a smile, instead choosing to frown and roll her eyes.

Sensing some sort of tension, you swallowed awkwardly. “What’s up? How’ve you guys been?”

“Fine,” Dona responded sharply.

You deflated slightly, mood turning damp. “Why’re you acting so weird?”

Mira peeked over at Dona with a worried expression. Dona was never good at hiding her emotions, always being an open book unlike Mira who mastered the art of acting happy even when she wasn’t. In that moment though, you could tell that you were clearly missing out on something because the distance between your trio had never been further.

“We didn’t hear from you for the whole holiday. We just missed you, that’s all,” Mira spoke carefully, watching your expression attentively.

Oh. So that’s what this is about. You scratched your neck, lightly dragging your nails along the skin. “Yeah…about that. I’m sorry, I was busy. You see Ran took me—”

“Of course he did,” Dona interrupted, practically spitting the words out.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Dona?”

“Nothing.” She put her fork down on her tray and looked at you for the first time today. Her eyes were sharp, the irritation practically radiating off her as she continued speaking. “It’s just that he’s literally all you fucking talk about now and frankly it’s getting annoying.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, getting yourself ready for defence mode. “Weren’t you the one who was pressuring me to pursue him? I was the one hesitant to talk to him but YOU wanted me to start dating him.”

“Yeah but it doesn’t mean you should be acting like this! Abandoning your friends for WEEKS without a single word!” Dona’s voice was getting higher to the point that it started to gather people’s attention from other tables. Mira wanted to sink into a puddle on the floor when people started staring, praying silently that you both would keep the volume down, but then Dona continued, eyes practically flashing red. “You didn’t even go home! The entire holiday! Your mother was worried sick!”

You scoffed. “Who gives a fuck what she thinks.”

Dona paused, her mouth open and her eyes wide. “What the hell happened to you?” The two of you stared at each other for a moment and you both couldn’t recognise each other. Mira desperately wanted to intervene, ask you both to keep your voices down and stop attracting attention but whenever she opened her mouth, Dona continued. “You know she started drinking again right?”

You stiffened and Mira noticed.

“Dona, stop,” Mira whispered, looking over to her friend desperately. “Now’s not the time.”

“Nah,” Dona shook her head. “I’m tired of her shit. She needs to hear this.” Her volume started to rise again. “You hear that, (Name). Your mother started drinking again. Because of you.”

“How do you know?”

“My mother goes to the same AA meeting as her. She was there. She heard all the stories your mother said during those meetings and told me.”

There was a moment where a look of shock flashed over your face, but Dona wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t look surprised. I don’t know what was going through your head to think stumbling in the house drunk at 3AM was a good idea. You thought she wouldn’t notice? Or what about that tattoo you got on your stomach that you also thought she wouldn’t notice? You think this is the kind of stuff your mother wants to see from her daughter? Not even a year ago you were acting normal, going to school ON TIME, getting perfect grades. What the fuck happened to you?”

You stood up abruptly, slamming your hands down onto the table with a loud slam that definitely caught the attention of everyone in the room this time. Mira wanted to explode.

“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk about my mother like she was a saint. In those dumbass AA meetings, did she ever discuss the ugly parts of herself or only sit there and bad mouth me? Hm?”

Dona swallowed harshly, arms crossed over her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh so I’m guessing she didn’t. Let me update you then.” You brought your finger out and started counting. “Let’s discuss the fact she thought it would be a great idea to bring over different guys at the SAME TIME and sleep with them on the goddamn couch when I was trying to sleep upstairs. Did you think my thirteen year old self wanted to see that? Or my brother? Or, oh yeah this is a good one,” you brought your second finger up, “the time I had to drag her unconscious body up the stairs and help her bathe because she decided to drink herself half to death that night? Or the fact she passed out on the sofa, blacked out for DAYS and I had to sit there and cry next to her because I thought she died? My whole goddamn life was dedicated to taking care of HER. Now I finally want my own fun and go off the rails one time, that’s enough to send her spiralling and crying to her alcoholic friends? How the fuck do you think I feel?!”

You finished ranting and clenched your jaw as you waited for Dona to continue talking. She had so much to say about a situation she knew nothing about. Now everybody knew your dirty business because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Embarrassed, you dropped back down to the bench and began stabbing at your food with your fork, pretending the chicken was Dona’s fucking head.

Mira cleared her throat, the sound echoing in the silence of the cafeteria. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I really didn’t know.”

“Yeah well there’s a lot of shit you don’t know,” you responded harshly.

Dona swallowed heavily and fiddled with her fingers under the table. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your fucking pity.” You stood up abruptly, grabbing your tray. “And maybe shut your fucking mouth and stop speaking on shit that doesn’t concern you.”

“But Dona was just looking out for you,” Mira started.

“Looking out for me, how?! By bringing up my mother in an attempt to catch me off guard and make me feel guilty? Or basically call me a bitch and a useless friend.”

Dona stood up also, pointing her finger in your face. “Maybe stop acting like both and you won’t get called that.”

“You know what. Fuck you both. I’m done. Consider me gone.”

“Yeah, it’s not like we aren’t used to you being gone anyway,” Dona muttered under her breath.

You shook your head, glaring at the both of them once more before dumping your food in the bin and storming out the room. The doors slammed loudly and everyone’s eyes were back on that table. Mira felt like there had been a spotlight shining on them the entire time.

Dona slumped back down to the bench and stabbed viciously at her food. “Fuck her. She’s so fucking damaged, I can’t deal with that right now.”

Mira frowned. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s clearly going through stuff. You’re just saying this to cope with the fact she chose a boy over us.”

“I’m not coping with anything. She can go fuck off with Ran, I don’t care.”

Mira touched her friend's arm gently, trying to soothe down her anger. “She will be back. The second things turns out rough with Ran. I promise you that.”

PRESENT DAY

“(Name), is that you?” A soft voice called out from behind you. You froze, wondering who on earth at this wedding might possibly know you.

Turning around, you met the familiar eyes of Mira who looked at you confused for a moment, then widening her eyes before dragging you in for a hug. “Oh my god. I missed you so much.”

You raised your hand awkwardly, unsure what to say, what to do to her. You haven’t spoken to her since that fight in the cafeteria and that was months before you left the country. “...Hi…” you settled on that, mentally slapping yourself for not showing more emotion.

She pulled away and dried her eyes, wiping them with her sleeve. “I honestly didn’t expect to see you…ever again. This is…woah.”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly on your feet. “Neither did I. Also, what are you doing here…?” While she was wiping her face, you caught a glimpse of the ring on her finger and grabbed her hand. “No way.”

“Yes way. I’m engaged!”

“What the hell?! I’m so happy for you, Mira,” you said with a smile on her face, watching her go red at the mention of her fiance. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“He’s on the police force. His name is Naoto. He’s actually related to the bride, Hina. You know her?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m here because Hiro wanted to get me out of the house but I’ve been out of place since I arrived.”

“I don’t blame you. I also feel a bit out of place, being here as a plus one too.”

“Oh, that sucks…” you said softly, chewing the inside of your cheek thinking what to say next. A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, which was expected. Eight years of no contact, this was sure to happen. “So…how’s Dona?”

“She’s…er…to be honest, I don’t know. We stopped speaking shortly after you left the country.”

“Oh,” you deflated. “Why? I wasn’t holding you guys back anymore.”

“It’s a long story.” A man approached Mira from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her backwards for a hug to whisper in her ear. Must be the fiance. “Really?” she mumbled to him, craning her neck in order to hear him a little better. “Are you sure he’s going to be there?” Naoto nodded.

As the two of them spoke, you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at how secure they seemed to be in their relationship. They were cute, and looked good together.

She turned around and grabbed his hand. “Can I bring my friend? I want to catch up with her.”

At that moment, Naoto seemed to just notice your presence. His black eyes met yours and you felt a tremor race through your body for some reason. He nodded at you and you bowed slightly, fiddling with your fingers as the two of them continued to whisper to each other.

“Okay, baby.” Mira planted a kiss to his cheek and he smiled, returning the kiss to her lips before walking away. Mira approached you slowly. “Want to come to this party with us? Naoto has business there and is meeting someone so I’m coming with him.” When you looked hesitant, she pleaded. “Please? I really miss you and I want to talk to you more.”

A voice in your head was telling you to just suck it up and go. You’re not in a position to lose any friends right now. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

At the after party, you ended up spending majority of the night with Mira and with the influence of alcohol, the conversations flew smoother, the both of you slowly getting back in touch with each other. She told you about how law school almost ate and swallowed her whole, and you told her all about living abroad in a dorm campus and how homesick you felt sometimes. Eventually during the night, Naoto joined the conversation and you found out more about him and his job at the police force. With the help of Mira’s big drunken mouth, she accidentally mentioned a special super top secret case his division was working on called Bonten and how one of the executives is apparently going to be here tonight, and he quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, laughing awkwardly and her eyes widened when she realised.

“Oh my god Naoto I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that,” she was almost crying out of frustration and Naoto spared a pity glance in your direction.

“Sorry about her, she gets very emotional when she's drunk.”

You nodded, muttering it’s okay and watched him whisk her away from the table. You were unsure why he reacted that way. It wasn’t like you knew anything about Bonten or whatever that’s supposed to mean. Without the presence of Mira, you began to feel overwhelmed in this big room with nobody to talk to, the alcohol in your system making your brain go fuzzy.

The room started to get too hot and you were beginning to feel beads of sweat begin forming on your forehead. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and went out through the back, grabbing a metal doorstop and placing it on the door. You sat on the staircase outside, taking in the night time view outside, the beautiful way the street lights lit up the streets and the sounds of cars passing by did wonders to your hazy mind.

“Ain’tcha cold?”

It took you a moment, too preoccupied with breathing in the fresh air outside that you failed to notice the presence of a man behind you. You turned around and looked up at a tall man, a black shadow casting over his face and body making it hard to see him clearly. He leaned against the wall, holding the metal door open with his foot, arms crossed over his chest and curled an eyebrow up at you, waiting for you to answer.

“I mean, kinda? But I don’t care,” you turned back to face the front and fiddled with your phone on your lap. “I’ve experienced worse.”

“Hm,” he hummed and lifted himself from the wall, taking a couple steps forward. He sat down next to you on the stairs and you got a whiff of his expensive cologne from the action. His body next to yours was overwhelming, and your shoulders nearly touched. “Do you remember me?” he asked a couple seconds later.

You turned to look at him for a split second then shook your head. He let out a short chuckle. “C’mon try harder. Dig deeper.”

With a word heavy sigh, you turned to look at him again. The first thing you noticed was he was attractive. His sharp jawline caught your attention first, his tattoo next. Then you met his eyes. Those goddamn eyes that no amount of alcohol could make you forget. You blinked for a couple moments, the movement slow as you tried to regain control over your muscles. “No way.”

TAGLIST: @escafhwiluv @lyniana @haitanifxn @rindougf03 @mvteria @hisan-na @luvhaitani @mishueb @Dreamxies @yuma404 @sleeplessreader @shinichirolover @illusorysmut @Lxvephxbic @obsessedwreiner @ililailii @insayninthamembrayn @missgab @reihimbo @l0velikethis @lollevi @danasaan @tenjikusstuff4 @midoriapologist

#ran haitani #series : wasted times #tokrev x reader #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran smut

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sailorcerus · 2 years ago

Text

USED [1]

Ran Haitani seems to have some sort of fixation with you so suddenly, and though you despise him, you don't miss the way your strict father hates his guts, so you ultimately use him to get back at your father.

ran haitani x fem!reader

tags: (5.8k words) one-sided enemies to lovers, college student!reader, implied bet on reader, toxic relationship with reader's father, tenjiku ran haitani, i tried to make ran irritating as possible, but i love him too much, lolz, explicit sexual content: kissing, oral (f), implied blowjobs, fingering, exhibitionism; ran fucks you in a car park, alcohol usage, you work at a bar

author's note: this was based off a request from 🍉 anon (ps i love u so much. i had so much fun writing this). and as majority of my fics are, it's too long to fit into one part so i'm splitting it up....lmao

You know Haitani Ran from the way he walks into class late, unbothered, with a prep in his step, hands shoved into the depths of his pockets, taking his sweet time to walk all the way up the lecture stairs to his seat at the back right of the top row. The entire class sits still, women admiring him with flushed faces, whispering to their friends next to them about him, the boys spiteful, bitter at the reactions of the girls to his mere presence. Ran’s infamous, “Sorry, sorry for being late,” line is one the lecturer is prepared to hear every Wednesday. He slots himself down in his spot, which happens to be next to you.

As someone who takes their education very seriously; it’s unfortunate to be stuck with such an idiot as a seatmate, always looking over at your paper to copy your answers, and if he’s not copying, he’s on his phone, playing an obnoxious game that’s quiet enough for everybody else not to hear, except you since you’re seated so close.

“Did everybody submit the assignments?” The lecturer asks, disappointed in the way half the class sweat in panic, the other half nodding, a monotone yes , sir filling the air.

Being part of half of the class that bothered to do the work, you don’t panic, rather feel confident in your abilities, leaning back in your chair as you can spend the next few weeks relaxing for the final exams.

It’s amusing seeing Ran’s eyes go wide, from the corner of your eye, at the mention of an assignment, his delusions so high that he’s reaching inside his bag for work he didn’t even know existed.

You can’t help but scoff.

That catches his attention, and you stiffen up when you feel him look at you.

“Somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah,” you challenge, turning to face him, meeting him eye to eye. “You.”

He does an excellent job at hiding his surprise, but you’re good at reading people, picking up on the way his head jerks back a little at your response. He chuckles, short and sweet, resting an elbow on the table, leaning his face on his palm and stares down at you.

“Yeah? What about me?”

It’s probably the first conversation you’ve had with him since you started studying here. He’s popular, not just in school, but outside. Infamous for…loads of things. Just know he’s not a good person, the police know that, the civilians know that, the school knows that; yet they turn a blind eye to his antics. Is it his charisma? Does he pay them off? You feel like you’re the only one with common sense in the entire city, because you have a valid reason to hate a delinquent like him.

You don’t bother to dignify him with a response, rolling your eyes and turning back to your laptop.

Ran won’t lie; he’s a little stunned at your behaviour towards him. So used to girls practically falling at his feet, kissing his shoes, fainting at his presence. That last one was pretty exaggerated, yes—but it happened once at a club. Maybe it was influenced by alcohol, or drugs…but it happened. For once in his life, he’s stumped, sneaking glances at you every now and then.

You’re typing away at your laptop, getting started on the next assignment. Your education is something you take a lot of pride in, not only for your future self, but for your father. Overall, he doesn’t really care about you, not as much as your brother. The favourtism is obvious even though he insists he doesn’t exist and you’re just being dramatic .

If you were to ask yourself why you’re spending so much studying just to impress him, why you’re craving fatherly love from someone who can’t give it to you. It’s been your only motivation to study, the thought of your father being proud of your accomplishments.

Ran’s stare is…distracting, to say the least. Whether you think he’s staring hard deliberately, or staring obliviously, it doesn’t matter because it’s still fucking annoying.

With a hefty sigh, you stop typing, turning to face him. “Do you mind?”

There’s a sweet saccharine smile on his face as he leans on his elbow, looking down at you like you’re the best thing in the world. You shift in your seat, not liking how your body reacts to that stare, but keep your face stoic.

“Mind what?”

His smile only grows when you roll your eyes, shifting your chair away from him to focus better. Briefly, you look around the lecture hall for empty seats. There’s no way in hell this guy will follow you if you do choose to sit somewhere else. Not only would that be irritating as fuck because he’s probably found a new target to leech onto, but you’d automatically turn into Public Enemy No.1 if you were now labelled as Ran’s plaything . Eesh, even the thought of being that makes you shudder with disgust.

Your lack of sexual nature is one thing you take pride in. Most people your age couldn’t go more than two weeks without sex. It’s not that hard , you think, but then again, when you have attractive idiotic men running around with their dicks out like the dude next to you, it is pretty hard for some girls to resist.

Deep down, you know if you were more like them, you wouldn’t be able to resist him either. He smells good, always . A smoky signature scent that if someone else tried to replicate, it would be obvious who they were inspired by. It’s so strong that the scent stays lingering in the area even when he’s not around. A constant reminder marking his presence.

For someone that hates him so much, there’s a part of you hoping he comes in everyday, just to smell him. As creepy as that sounds, you don’t go and sniff him like some dog with no home training, just a small sniff whenever the scent wafts in your direction.

It’s not your fault, nor your nose's fault that he uses such a nice smelling cologne.

Either way, it doesn’t matter; because the lecture is ending earlier than usual; the professor had to go to a meeting so class dismissed.

As you pack your bags, you’re vaguely aware of him staring at you again. It’s hard to ignore, but you refuse to let him know that he has an effect on you. His gaze follows you down the steps until you exit.

The following evening, you’re working your night shift at the campus bar, wiping down freshly washed glasses with a cloth when you hear his obnoxious voice behind you, laughing loudly at something his friends are saying. Your heart drops down to the floor when you realise he’s seated in your section, meaning whether you like it or not you will have to serve him sooner or later. With a sigh, you grab at your notepad and pen far too aggressively for someone that should be obeying the bar's policies, ‘always serve the customers with a smile !’ or the one your manager had reminded you far too many times because of your resting bitch face, ‘always look approachable .”

Yeah. Whatever .

It’s obvious you’re stalling with the way you’re dodging Ran’s table, taking everyone’s orders, smiling that perfectly trained smile you forced yourself to plaster on your face from the hours of 1700 to 2300 every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Before you get to dodge his table once more, there’s a tug at the hem of your uniform, skirt flowing from the force of it. It’s strong enough to stop you in your tracks, but not enough to force you to fall over or something.

Turning to face the man himself, your smile instantly drops, back into your unamused expression. It seems that no matter how hard you trained your facial muscles, you couldn’t force that smile for someone that doesn’t deserve it.

“Have you been avoiding me?” He speaks questioningly, and you curse the fact that his brother has stopped talking, now directing his attention over at you. His stare is just as, if not, more intimidating than his brothers, and you feel a shiver run across your body.

“No. I just didn’t see you,” you huff in annoyance; an obvious lie that has his perfectly shaped brows wrinkling.

He’s probably trying to figure out how someone just happened to not see him. It’s not out of cockiness, or arrogance—which seems to make up most of his being—but as stated before, being infamous for doing all sorts of things makes him pretty popular in this city, whether he intended that or not. So it’s only natural for someone to notice his presence.

“Yeah, okay ,” he’s scoffing like he doesn’t believe you. To be frank, if you were him you wouldn’t believe yourself either.

“Who is she?” His brother asks, taking a sip of the water he’s been forced to drink because a certain someone wouldn’t take their order.

“If I play my cards right, my future girlfriend.” Ran also takes a sip of the water, smacking his lips, when he practically hears you squawk out in shock.

“As if ,” you bite out, clutching your notepad closer to yourself, deciding if getting sent home early for refusing to take someone's order and losing out on money is worth being here with him for one more second. “Now tell me what the fuck you want to drink and stop wasting my time.”

“Fiesty one, huh?” His brother looks over at Ran who nods his head in appreciation.

“Yeah. Ain’t she cute?” The fact he’s talking about you like you aren’t even there, or aware is aggravating.

Looking down at the imaginary watch on your wrist, you click your tongue, sighing exasperatedly. “You have three more seconds to cough up your order before I abandon you.”

Ran doesn’t catch your bluff. “Guess I’ll be having a wonderful discussion with your manager then, aye?”

Yup, that does it. You poke your tongue at your cheek, closing your eyes and counting to three in your mind, facial muscles twitching in pain as you force the smile back onto your face. “Hi. What would you like today?”

Ran leans his elbow in on the table, smiling up at you contentedly. “Your name and number, please.”

It takes everything in your power to not drop the smile, but it already took the majority of your energy to put on, so you’re not about to ruin the facade even more.

“I’m afraid that isn’t on the menu ,” you say that part a bit more aggressively, mildly gesturing to the closed menu pamphlet on the wooden table that he didn’t even bother to open. “Maybe if you look at it , you’ll see what we serve.”

He looks down at the menu, and his brother chews at the whites of his nails, watching the scene with a slight interest.

“I’ll have whatever you recommend for me, and your name and number.”

“Would you just —” you shut up before you could get violent, closing your breath and inhaling deeply to steady yourself. Since your eyes are plastered shut, you vaguely miss the look Ran sends his brother, and how it sends him off into a laughing frenzy. “Look. At. The. Menu.”

He makes a show of looking at the menu for a new record of around .34 seconds, somehow already coming up with a drink of choice. “How about a cocktail that’s as sweet as you, hm?”

You know what. That’s good enough. Probably the closest answer you’ll get to the real thing. “Sure, whatever.”

You approach your co-worker behind the bar, tell her the drink is for Haitani Ran and watch as her eyes practically morph into hearts, doing your best to ignore her asking if she makes the drink well enough, will he fall in love?

“Do me a favour and pour vinegar in his drink.” You take a shot from the clean glass she just washed, uncaring of the way she frowns.

“No! Why would I do that?” Ai seems genuinely horrified at the idea, wondering if you know who he is and why you would want to prank someone like him.

“‘Cause he deserves it?”

Ai shakes her head, mixing the drink as well as she can, pouring all her love into it before sliding it onto a tray, handing it to you. “Voila! If he likes it, tell him to gimme his number, yeah?”

“Cool, whatever.” You walk off before she could say anything further.

If this was a plate of food, or a bottle of water on the tray, you would’ve slammed it onto the table, uncaring of the mess it makes after. But since it’s a very delicate , fragile cocktail glass, you fight back on that urge.

“Enjoy it,” you say with the most monotone voice, stalking away before he could find something else to say.

The rest of the night goes by quickly, and peacefully, and it wasn’t until you were closing up for the night, you felt those same pair of lingering eyes on you as you mopped under the tables.

“How the fuck are you still here?” You ask, going borderline insane, looking over at the same table the two brothers have been occupying for the rest of the night.

Rindou has his chair tilting back on its heels as he leans back, feet on the table, and your face scrunches up when you realise you have to do extra cleaning tonight. Ran stands from his chair, hovering over you, enjoying the way you don’t even bristle, or look away like most girls would.

“Wasn’t leavin’ without your number.”

“Then I hope you brought a sleeping bag.”

You try to move to clean the rest of the floor but of course , he stops you, extending his arm out to curl around your side, pulling you back to him.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening to me right now,” you mutter more to yourself than to him, the thought of Ran Haitani now leeching onto you as his latest target was annoying in itself.

He holds his hand out, not saying another word, presumably waiting for you to hand your phone. You reach down to smack his hand away, but his reflexes get the better of you, gripping onto your hand tight in a way you struggled to escape out of.

“I’m not playing these games with you, Haitani.”

“Neither am I.” With an irritating amount of nonchalance, he extends his spare hand (acting like he isn’t currently squeezing the life out of your own hand), and gestures over to your phone, prominent in the pocket of your uniform. “Number please . See? I’m even being polite.”

“How generous.” The sarcasm drips from your voice blatantly, but he either is too idiotic to pick up on it, or just ignores it completely because he’s so persistent on getting your number. “Fine,” you kiss your teeth, giving in, thinking if you ghost him it might be enough to decimate his ego to the point of no return.

“Yay ♡ ” He sounds as giddy as he looks and as annoyed as you should be, you find it kind of cute that he’s this excited to contact you.

“Take it.” You hand him the piece of paper you wrote your number on, pulling it away before he could grab at it. “But if you spam me, I’m blocking you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Obviously you don’t plan on doing anything with him, just ignoring all his messages till he gives up and finds a new girl to leech onto. There’s plenty of pussy in this campus for him anyway, yours just happens to not be easily accessible. It’s not like he would have trouble finding a new target. Hell, you can already name fifteen girls in your Monday 10AM lecture alone that would drop everything to lay in bed with that man.

By the time you get home, he’s already sending you a text that you ignore in favour of taking a shower. Your father looks like he’s in a bad mood, so the last thing you want to do is talk to him and provoke him further with your presence alone. But it seems when he’s angry enough, he’ll look for anything to argue with you about.

After eating dinner, you were perched up on the living room couch, enjoying yourself some pity ramen as you watch Love Island USA, engaging in on the drama before your father storms in; clearly irritated as he hears the stupid voices on the TV.

“Can you turn that crap off ? My news programme starts soon.”

You barely bother to look at him, focusing back on the TV, more specifically, the shot of Tommy, 27, as the camera pans downwards towards his abs. It’s a bit annoying he had to walk in now , but you don’t care. You’re ‘grown’ according to his words whenever you ask him to help you out with something. You’re a grown woman now, what do you need my help for? Act like an adult.

And acting you will .

He seems offended that you don’t respond, instead drool over some dude on the TV. “When are you going to start acting your—”

“My what ? My age? I’m nineteen, not 34 with three kids. You should be lucky that I’m not out there, doing drugs, sleeping around, getting arrested like most people my age are! Because if you want that, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

“They’re being irresponsible in their own way. What about you? When was the last time you even showed me your grades?”

“Because the last time I recall, you told me I’m a grown woman, so why should a grown woman show her father her grades, like I’m a fucking child?”

“Do not swear in my house.”

You take a moment to chew your food before cussing up a storm, spewing out every swear word you can think of. The argument escalates with both of you yelling at each other, expressing your differing opinions and frustrations. The tension in the room was palpable, and the exchange of your words became equally hurtful.

“You never listen to me, Dad! You’re so focused on yourself and your failing business that you can’t see that I’m not you and I won’t sacrifice my happiness just to please you.”

“This is not about me ! What don’t you get?! This is about you being responsible and making something of yourself. Right now? All I see is a pathetic girl, crushing over men that are twice her age on the TV. You’re just being stubborn and selfish.”

“Oh, so you want me to go after real men then? That what you want? You want me to find some toxic asshole that would ruin me so I can come back home to you so you’d have some sick pleasure of saying I told you so ?” At this point, you feel emotionally drained, too tired to keep arguing like this.

Your day was going well-ish , minus the pest called Ran Haitani, but removing him from the equation made your day overall a 9. Knowing your father, he would only continue escalating the issue at hand because he can, so you hand him the remote. “ There . Change the damn channels and enjoy your news programme.”

He seems awfully proud of himself, like he didn’t just verbally abuse his child all for some goddamn news programme. You can’t find it in yourself to walk out of the living anyway, so you both sit there in silence. The only sounds are the remote buttons clicking as he types in the channel.

As the news unfolded, the anchor mentioned the infamous delinquent gang known as Tenjiku, followed by the name you were all too familiar with: Ran Haitani, and a few other random guys he’s criminally acquainted with. Your father’s face tightens and he looks over at you.

“Those boys are you age, right?”

You fight the urge to say, yeah, want me to join them? , choosing to be the bigger person and nod your head in silence.

“This is what I hate about your generation—”

And here he goes again. You tune him out now, instead focusing on the news reporter discussing how gang violence has been increasing rapidly over the course of the last few weeks as many young influenced middle school boys are now joining more gangs. In the background, your dads rant comes to a stop.

“I’m glad you stay at home all day instead of being around bad news like them. I don’t want my child getting caught up in their mess.”

You sigh, not bothering to comment on how your dad is a fucking hypocrite, but realise that his concern stems from a desire to protect you. It’s a shame you didn’t care because you found your hands moving to your phone, sending a quick text out to Ran, asking him to hang out this weekend.

Is it wrong of you to be using him like this just to get your dad angry?

Yeah, probably. But Ran was most likely using you in the same way just to impress his friends, so in a sick sense, you were both even.

Days pass by after the living room encounter with your father, and you found yourself deep in thought. One evening, you decided to take matters into your own hands, determined to seize the opportunity, you snuck out of your room, venturing to Tenjiku’s hangout location; just an abandoned car park. Ran spots you looking around the place uncomfortably, so obviously out of place, and hops off the wall to head over to you. His expression shifts from surprise, to amused, chuckling as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well well well, look who’s finally caved.”

If it wasn’t for the fact you just spent the last fifteen minutes walking here, you would’ve abandoned the plan you made and gone home already. His cockiness was something you weren’t excited to entertain.

“Don’t get too excited before I change my mind,” you say firmly, ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach when his eyes shamelessly wander down the length of your body.

“I like that attitude,” he admits with a smirk, tilting your chin up with his finger, making you meet his gaze.

Maybe it was out of pure shock, but you don’t remove his finger, just let him redirect your gaze to meet his eyes. You notice how nice his face is up close. Regularly, you can’t bear to stare at him for longer than five seconds at a time, but with his finger keeping your face upright, it allows you to notice his long lashes, how they’re curved upwards almost perfectly, the faint splatter of freckles dusted asymetically across his cheeks. His hair…you refuse to comment on it, lest you say something you’d regret. But that aside, he wasn’t bad , and you maybe…just a little— (a smidge or a pinch) see the hype around him. His voice wasn’t anything to play around with either, and you’d think if it didn’t belong to an ingrate like him, you could successfully admit without a shadow of a doubt that you liked it.

You seem to be oogling his face, sending him mixed signals because he’s leaning in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss that instantaneously sends a rush of adrenaline through your body. You were too stunted to push him off, despising how you’re enjoying the feeling of his lips moving against your stiff ones. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it had been a while since you kissed someone, so you were a little off. It was like he could sense your hesitation, your awkwardness, because his hand cups the back of your head, gripping your hair as he moves your head in the way he wants you.

The fact you now know that Ran Haitani is a good kisser pisses you off because that was information you couldn’t care less about storing inside your brain. But what pisses you off more is the fact you still haven’t pulled away yet , and his friends are not even a couple metres away, smoking or whatever it is they do in their free time.

He bends down to pick you up from your thighs, relishing in the way you yelp from being lifted from the ground so suddenly, holding onto his shoulders for balance.

“Relax, would ya? I’m not gunna drop you.” He’s referring to the tight grip you have on his shoulders as he walks towards his car.

“You might as well. I need some sense knocked into me anyway.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ll—” He stops himself with a grin, refusing to finish those words and leaving you second guessing.

Obviously you’re not stupid , you have some vague idea of what dirty joke he’s implying. “You’re sick.”

“‘M aware of that.” He puts you on the hood of his car, laying you flat as he steps in between your open legs.

It seems he misunderstood what you came here for because you didn’t come here for this, yet you still can’t find it in yourself to push him away, moaning softly when his lips crash down to your neck, sucking away at your skin. Maybe tricking Ran into dating you would do no good, he’s not cut out for relationships anyway; your brain tries to persuade you that revenge on your father isn’t worth your dignity but with the way he’s kissing down your neck, so sensual, you can’t help but clasp your arms around his head, guiding him further down your body.

He goes further downwards and lifts your shirt up to reveal your stomach, kissing the soft skin there while simultaneously hooking his fingers between the layers of your shorts and panties, tugging them off your body, placing them next to you on the car.

Is it a little (just a little????) crazy that you’re about to get eaten out in public, on a hood of a car ? Yes, it is. But the rush of adrenaline hits you before you had the chance to fight it off. You’re aware you’re a bit of a hypocrite but looking down at him between your legs had shifted the narrative of your thoughts a little.

He kisses the flesh of your thighs, teasing you as he surges upwards to around your pussy, pressing a light kiss to your clit before moving back to your thighs.

Irrirated, and desperate, you call his name out as harsh as you can, only for it to come out as a breathless plea. “Stop messing around, Ran.”

You’re not ready for him to flick his eyes up at you, those damn hooded eyes staring at you with a longing hunger. “So you do want this?”

“I didn’t let you lay me on your fucking car for no reason, Ran.”

His fingers dig painfully into your thighs, reminding you he has the upper hand here. “I’d like some respect when you speak to me from now on.”

“Suck a dick.”

“You will later. For now though…” he trails off as he looks back down at the wetness that accumulated between your legs and leans down, sticking his tongue out to lick a stripe from base to tip, circling his tongue around your clit and repeating the shameless action.

You bite down on your lip, hard, in an attempt to silence yourself. The loud laughter coming a couple feet away reminds you that you’re not alone, and the last thing you’d want is for his friends to find you like this. Especially not his brother, oh no , he’s the last one you’d want to see right now. He’s the only one out of the group that witnessed your initial disdain for his brother, and you’d at least like to slither away from this night with a shred of dignity, knowing that to the rest of the general public that know you, you didn’t just fall to your knees for Ran Haitani.

Your moans shift in pitch when he begins working you open with his tongue, wrapping your legs around his head so his hands are free, he rubs his finger up and down your folds, enjoying the way you squirm from the sensation.

It’s hard to stay focused on him, his tongue, his finger that just slipped inside you. It’s even harder to stay focused on controlling your noises when he curls his finger just right . He pulls his finger out, spreading apart your folds with two fingers, and licks you up, flicking his tongue on your clit.

He really knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he? Fuck, you’re frantically looking to the side, at the sound of his friends, stomach twisting in knots from the anticipation of being caught.

Knowing that your attention is elsewhere pisses him off, shoving two of his fingers back inside you without fanfare; you let out a loud moan, instantly covering your mouth and glare down at him, ready to hiss at him before he’s standing up, holding you by the throat to pull you forward into a sitting position. His fingers are still ravaging your insides as he looks at you, keeping you steady by the hand on your throat.

“Focus on me , not them.” He watches your eyes threaten to roll back when he twists his fingers perfectly, curling them against your g-spot.

“I—I ca—” He kisses you again, hot and heavy, not letting you explain yourself. Though you should smack him for choking you like that, you’re partly grateful because he’s doing a great job at silencing you, swallowing your moans down as his tongue slides against your own. You can taste yourself in the kiss, and it’s bitter , but Ran seems to enjoy it because he’s pulling away to kneel back between your legs.

You shift to lay down against the hood once more but his spare hand grips your hips, stopping you.

“Stay there,” he says, pulling his fingers our momentarily to tug your body towards him.

You almost fall off the car, and you most definitely would’ve fell forward if he wasn’t steadying you. He shoves his face back between your legs, devouring your pussy with his lips and tongue, overstimulating your clit to the point of no return as he clamps his lips around it, sucking hard before you fall apart. Goosebumps form on the surface of your arms as he flicks his tongue against your cunt at a rapid speed, slurping your wetness hungrily.

You slap your hand over your mouth, having to bite down into it to conceal your moans as he works you through your orgasm. Your thighs twitch and convulse by his face as he looks up at you, watching you fall apart. He shamelessly watches your chest inflate and deflate with every fast paced breath you let out.

“So fuckin’ pretty ,” he stands, laying you back down against the hood of his car. He cages you in, kissing you without letting you catch your breath.

Your legs wrap around his waist, locking him in close as his hand grips onto your chin, tilting your face up so he could kiss you deeper. He’s such a good kisser it’s almost humbling how quickly he can placate you with his lips alone.

He pulls away with a devilish smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, pushing him away from you to slide off the car.

“Don’t get all cocky now ,” he coos, wondering where this energy was not even ten seconds ago.

Your legs wobble and you fight to stand upright, but manage just fine, refusing to give him that much power over you. Grabbing your pants and shorts, you change back in shame, meanwhile he just leans against the hood of the car, watching you with a satisfied look on his face.

“Nothin’ to say?”

“Take me home.” At least tonight wasn’t a total bust; you can still go home and have your dad see him bring you back. You can still have a little bit of dignity left.

He shrugs and fishes out his car keys from his pockets. His car smells just as nice as him, you think as you step inside, tugging your seatbelt on.

“Where do you live?”

You tell him your address and it’s weird how he knows the city in and out, not even pulling out a GPS before figuring out the direction to your house. He parks right in front of your gate and you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt to get out. You’ve spent more time here than you’d initially planned anyway.

Except he locks the doors before you could get a chance.

The irritation bubbling from earlier comes back and you’re reminded of all the reasons why you despise him.

“Let me out.”

“Not yet, pretty.” He turns off the car and turns to face you. It’s amusing to him how you still haven’t quite caught your breath yet, still panting slightly as a result from your orgasm.

“What do you want now ?”

He hums in contemplation, musing his thoughts over. “Honestly? To bend you over my backseat.” He sends a suggestive look over to the back and your lips part open in shock. Mainly shocked due to how shameless this guy actually is, but also because you…liked the—no.

No. Moving on.

“Well that’s—uh—” You’re at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish, struggling to think of something witty to say and the smirk on his face has you wishing your brain was actually functioning right now so you could say something to wipe it off.

“Looks like I finally broke that know-it-all brain of yours.”

“You didn’t—” Your voice gets tinier and tinier as he leans forward, cupping the back of your head to kiss you again. This time, he’s much slower than the previous two, taking his sweet time to work you open. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip and you subconsciously hold his nape to tug him closer.

He pulls away before you could fully get into it, eyes lingering on the swell of your bottom lips before flicking up to your eyes, looking down breathlessly at him.

“Think your pops’ is mad at me.” He nods past your body, out the window revealing your dad on the doorstep of your house, looking positively furious, arms crossed by his side, waiting, daring you to step foot inside his house.

You whip your head backwards, eyes widening marginally at his face.

You’ve never seen him that mad before….

“On second thought…” you bite your lip, picking your dignity again over your mental well-being. You’re far too out of it to have another argument with him tonight. “Can you take me to yours?”

“Fuck, ‘course I can.”

i'll upload part two later this week once i finish writing it 👻

extra author's note: just a lil fun fact of the day : the arguement between reader and her father was actually one i had with my own dad😒 except obviously more exaggarated to fit in with the storyline. funnnnn...

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