Love Confessions

Rich boy gojo latest obsession: Spider woman aka you

Gojo Satoru was everything you weren’t. Wealthy, popular, and effortlessly charismatic, he ruled the school like a king. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and he basked in the attention without a care in the world. You, on the other hand, were invisible. Quiet, studious, and focused solely on your dream of becoming a mechanical engineer, you kept to yourself. You had no time for the drama or distractions of high school life—not that anyone tried to drag you into it.

For years, Gojo hadn’t even known you existed, too busy dating every pretty girl in school and living his high-society life. But you didn’t care. As long as you had your books, your love of science, and a clear path to graduation, you were content.

Then, everything changed the night you got bitten.

It happened as you walked home from the library, your bag heavy with notes and textbooks. A sharp sting on your hand made you pause, and when you looked down, you saw it: a spider, glowing faintly with an otherworldly hue. You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it at the time. But by morning, your entire world had turned upside down.

The changes were drastic, to say the least. It felt like you had the strength of five men combined. You could climb walls, stick to surfaces, and—most astonishingly—shoot webs. At first, it was chaos. You’d knock over furniture without meaning to, stick to walls by accident, and fire webs at the worst possible times. Balancing your new abilities with the demands of high school was a nightmare. And then there were your parents, who couldn’t understand why you suddenly seemed so…different.

Eventually, though, you got the hang of it. Slowly but surely, you found a rhythm. By day, you were the quiet girl no one noticed, slipping through the halls like a ghost. By night, you were Spider-Woman, swinging through the city, saving lives, and trying to make a difference.

One of those lives, unfortunately, was Gojo’s.

You’d saved him multiple times—once from a mugger in a dark alley, another time from a runaway car. Each time, you prayed he wouldn’t recognize you under the mask. But Gojo, being Gojo, became utterly and completely obsessed. He couldn’t stop talking about Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman this, Spider-Woman that. She was all he thought about, all he cared about. He’d defend her fiercely to anyone who dared criticize her, becoming your personal lawyer without even realizing it.

When the media started painting Spider-Woman as a delinquent—a vigilante who caused more harm than good—Gojo was furious. He went so far as to call his dad, threatening to sue the newspaper that ran the story. How dare they? Didn’t they know how much Spider-Woman sacrificed to keep the city safe? The idea of anyone tarnishing her name was enough to make his blood boil.

Then came the night at the nightclub. Gojo, carefree as ever, found himself cornered in a dark alley, moments away from being robbed. You swooped in, taking out the muggers with ease. But before you could leave, he stopped you.

“Wait!” he called out, breathless and his sky blue eye wide. “I… I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

For a split second, you hesitated. His voice, so familiar yet so different, made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t risk it—not with how obsessed he was. Without a word, you shot a web to the nearest building and disappeared into the night, leaving Gojo standing there, more intrigued than ever.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

The cafeteria buzzed with chatter as students clustered at their usual tables. Sitting alone with your tray of food and your notes, you tuned out the noise. Behind you, however, the loudest group in school had taken their seats—Gojo Satoru and his friends.

“Dude, I’m telling you—she totally recognized me,” Gojo said, his voice carrying across the room as he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Satoru, you’re delusional,” Geto drawled, brushing his long hair behind his ear as he gave his best friend a look of pity. “You know how many people she saves, right? Why would she only recognize you?”

“Because I’m pretty, that’s why,” Gojo shot back, leaning uncomfortably close to Geto’s face, his striking blue eyes glinting with mock indignation. “Who could ever forget this face, huh? I’m too handsome.”

Geto blinked at him, unimpressed. “You’re beyond saving.”

“He’s right,” Shoko chimed in dryly from across the table, casually popping a fry into her mouth. “You need professional help, Satoru.”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He leaned back in his chair, dramatically running a hand through his white hair as though to emphasize his point. “I’m serious, guys! She’s so cool—like, way cooler than anyone else in this school. I have to meet her. But she doesn’t have an agent or an email or…anything! How am I supposed to contact her? Ugh, it’s torture.”

“You’re not supposed to contact her,” Shoko replied, not even looking up from her fries.

“Wait, wait,” Gojo interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Do you think she’d date me if I offered her money?” He turned to Geto and Shoko, searching for validation.

The two stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Money? Really?” Shoko snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Satoru, she’s a superhero, not a gold digger.”

Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, and even if she was into money, why would she pick you? You’d probably get robbed while on a date with her.”

“Hey!” Gojo huffed, crossing his arms. “She saved me multiple times. Okay, a lot actually . That means something!”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “It means you’re really bad at staying out of trouble.”

Behind them, you fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was bad enough Gojo was obsessed with Spider-Woman, but to hear him talk about her with such unfiltered arrogance made your food taste worse. If only he knew how much effort it took to not acknowledge him during every rescue.

Still, you couldn’t deny the small flicker of amusement at the thought. Gojo Satoru, the most confident guy in school, practically pining over you without even knowing it.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

Gojo Satoru thought he was a genius. Actually, scratch that—he knew he was a genius. After all, if Spider-Woman was going to save him every time he found himself in trouble, then logically, he just needed to get into more trouble. That way, she’d have no choice but to keep saving him, which meant he’d get to see her more often.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself one day as he stared at his reflection in a classroom window. “I scare myself sometimes with how brilliant I am.”

And so, his master plan began. Every day, without fail, he’d find himself in increasingly dangerous situations. Whether it was wandering down shady alleys, conveniently “forgetting” his wallet in sketchy neighborhoods, or trying to provoke muggers by flashing his expensive watch in public, Gojo made sure to play the role of helpless rich boy perfectly.

And every single time, you were there. Swinging in at the last possible second, rolling your eyes behind your mask as you pulled him out of harm’s way.

For two weeks, this went on. Two excruciating weeks.

“Are you serious right now?” you snapped one night as you yanked him out of the path of an oncoming car he’d nearly walked in front of. “sir, What were you even doing in the middle of the street?” Your trying to make your voice deeper so he couldn't recognise it.

“Me?” he asked innocently, flashing you a grin that somehow managed to be both charming and infuriating. “I was just testing how fast that car was going. You know, for science.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re unbelievable.” you whispered. You didn't want to talk to him too much and feed his delusion that he is somehow special to you.

“Thank you,” he replied, as if it were a compliment. “So, what’s your name? Your real name, I mean. Do you like movies? Dinner? Long walks in the rain?”

You ignored him, as usual, swinging away before he could say anything else. But Gojo was nothing if not persistent.

The final straw came on a rainy night after an already horrible day. You’d had a blowout argument with your mom that morning, and the weight of your double life was catching up to you. Your grades were slipping, exhaustion was eating away at you, and the constant pressure of keeping the city safe was unbearable. To top it all off, Gojo’s ridiculous antics were only making things worse.

So when you find him once again—this time standing at the edge of a rooftop of the hotel his rich father owns, "balancing practicing"—you snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you shouted, storming toward him as the rain poured down. Your mask was soaked, and your voice shook with frustration and fatigue. “Do you have a death wish? Or are you just this desperate for attention?”

Gojo turned, his soaked white hair plastered to his forehead, and gave you that same infuriating grin. “Hey, Spider-Woman! Took you long enough. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”

You grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back from the edge, your patience completely gone. “Listen, rich boy,” you hissed, your voice trembling with anger. “I don’t know what kind of game you think this is, but I am not playing. You don’t get to make my life harder just because you’re bored or obsessed or whatever this is.”

For the first time, Gojo seemed taken aback. His grin faltered, and his usually sparkling blue eyes softened. “Wait, are you okay?”

You froze, caught off guard by the genuine concern in his voice. For a fleeting moment, the usual arrogance in his tone was replaced by something softer—something real. But the dam inside you had already broken.

“No, I’m not okay,” you admitted, your voice cracking under the weight of everything. “I’m also a human, you know. I get tired too... I—”

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, biting your lip hard enough to hurt. No. You’d already said too much. Letting him see even this much vulnerability was dangerous—too dangerous. You didn’t owe him an explanation.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you grabbed him by the arm and picked him up effortlessly, carrying him away from the edge of the rooftop. You set him down on stable ground, saying nothing as you turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called after you, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Okay? Please, just listen to me.”

You hesitated, your back still to him.

“I didn’t mean to make things harder for you,” he said, his usual confidence completely gone. “I was just... I thought I was being clever, but I wasn’t thinking about what it was doing to you. I just... I wanted to see you. To talk to you.”

His words hung in the air, raw and honest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. The rain poured down harder, mingling with the tears that began streaming down your face. You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to break down completely in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just... stay out of trouble. Please.”

You swung away without looking back, leaving him standing there in the rain, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view.

As the wind whipped past you, the tears kept coming. The frustration, the exhaustion, the overwhelming loneliness—it all spilled out in the safety of the storm. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.

And behind you, on that rooftop, Gojo Satoru stood drenched and motionless, staring after you with an ache in his chest he didn’t fully understand. He had never seen you like that before—so human, so tired, so vulnerable.

And for the first time, he realized just how much he’d taken you for granted.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

For two whole days, you slept. The world kept spinning, but you didn’t care. You were beyond exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. It felt like your body was trying to shut itself down for repairs, and honestly, you welcomed it. After all, who cared about you? Why should you care about the world when no one seemed to care about you?

Meanwhile, Gojo was in his own spiral of chaos. The guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the image of your trembling voice, your soaked figure disappearing into the rain. He knew he’d messed up—badly. He wanted to apologize, to tell you how sorry he was for being selfish, for not thinking about what you were going through. But... how? How was he even supposed to find you? It was like you’d vanished into thin air.

To make matters worse, there was the looming deadline for his big mechanical engineering project. Normally, he wouldn’t be too concerned. He was Gojo Satoru—charming, brilliant, and capable of pulling off a miracle at the last second. But this time, there was a twist. His professor had assigned him a partner: Y/N L/N.

He didn’t even know who that was. Sure, he’d heard the name in passing, but it wasn’t like he paid attention to anyone who wasn’t in his usual circle of admirers or friends. Now, in the middle of his existential guilt-fueled meltdown, he had to deal with the stress of finding a partner he probably wouldn’t recognize if they stood right in front of him.

His friends noticed immediately that something was off. Gojo was usually the epitome of confidence, breezing through life without a care in the world. But now, he was pacing, muttering to himself, and radiating the kind of energy that screamed, I’ve screwed up.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Shoko finally asked, leaning back in her chair and eyeing him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve been weird for days,” Geto added, sipping his coffee. “This is, like, the longest you’ve gone without flirting with someone or bragging about yourself. Should we be worried?”

Gojo ran a hand through his damp hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “It’s Spider-Woman,” he admitted, slumping into a chair.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Shoko groaned, rolling her eyes. “What did you do now?”

“I think I—no, I know I messed up,” Gojo said, groaning into his hands. “I was being an idiot, okay? I kept getting myself into trouble so she’d save me, and... well, she finally snapped.”

“Wait,” Geto said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you telling me Spider-Woman, the literal superhero, got mad at you? What the hell did you do?”

Gojo waved his hands wildly, exasperated. “I just wanted to talk to her! Is that so bad?!”

“Yes,” Shoko and Geto said in unison.

“Ugh, whatever,” Gojo grumbled, burying his face in his arms. “She disappeared after that night. I don’t even know where to find her now.”

“Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and focus on that project,” Shoko suggested, popping a fry into her mouth. “What’s the name of your partner again?”

“Y/N L/N or something,” Gojo said absentmindedly, frowning at the table.

Shoko froze mid-chew, exchanging a quick glance with Geto.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Geto said, trying to suppress a grin.

Gojo blinked at them, confused. “What?”

“Y/N L/N,” Shoko said slowly, smirking. “You mean the quiet girl who never talks to anyone? The one who’s always in the library?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? No way. why godddd." he dropped his head to the table and started banging his head.

“Yep,” Shoko said, crossing her arms. “That’s your partner. Good luck, lover boy.”

Now, not only did Gojo have to figure out how to apologize to Spider-Woman, but he also had to track down his elusive project partner—

And honestly? He wasn’t sure which task was going to be harder.

pov: you're getting rejected (again)

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

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

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

word count: 4.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"should we call his girlfriend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"ran? wake up, hon."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"where do you–"

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

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

you jog ahead to your car and open the door.

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

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

"thank you, that's very sweet, but–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"everything?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"it was octagon."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod, "probably ran jr."

nobody says a word.

"i'm kidding."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what the fuck is going on here?"

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

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

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

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

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

"your girl's a delight, haitani."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i guess," he sighs stubbornly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"deal."

♡ taglist ♡ (to be added, click here)

@deardazais @perfectlysweetfury @pshwaa @dazaisleftballsack @himboos @jeonscream @ohiribasilisk @mitsuyahaitaniackermannanamibae @kashxyou

(i appreciate y'all so much!!!)

Al Haitham story quest confirms:

Kaveh does the house work, Al Haitham is the messy one

Kaveh is a light weight and drunkenly told half of Sumeru that he's broke and living with Al Haitham

Al Haitham is a sugar daddy but a very reluctant one (even though he's not saying no)

Kaveh does care about Al Haitham and asks if he's okay

Kaveh is very upset that Al Haitham keeps going furniture shopping without him, Al Haitham seems into retail therapy so long as it pisses Kaveh off

If you check what Al Haitham is thinking with Nahida after the quest, he is thinking about cleaning up the books that Kaveh told him to put away - so he does take what Kaveh tells him to do into account

❛ ㅤ𖥔 ─── EXTRA-L (五条悟, 𝓖𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔)

𝓐𝖡𝖲𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖢𝖳 ─ when gojo tries to talk you through it, but it makes him cum first instead 🤷

( 1.4k )ㅤ｡⠀呪術廻戦 ㅤ& MDNI. ✶ afab!reader, established relationship, práise kínk, crèampíe, máting prèss, inappropriate use of jujutsu

"heh, are you close?" gojo teeters, his large hand cupped underneath the soft, flushed arch of your neck. he's reached that stage of the night where he's getting far too cocky, his powerful, broad thighs not even breaking an ounce sweat, not even as skin slaps against skin.

bright, searing blue cuts through the darkness of the bedroom, and you have no doubt he's using a copious amount of reversed cursed energy to keep him going. gojo's doing a pretty decent job of holding out for the big finish.

the big finish in you that is. for the very thought of filling you up with thick, spurting loads makes gojo shake, quiver even, a whine slipping from his glossy, pink-stung mouth.

you can feel the ache in your stretched limbs, for the sensation is pulsing and throbbing from the mean mating press that gojo's got you in. his washboard, sculpted abdomen is pressed right up against you where you're certain that the print of his muscles will leave a mark. and the curled thatch of silvery-white hairs is tacking right up against your mound, drenched in the sticky slick that you've released, four times no less.

"dunno' if i can do it a-another time, 'toru," you're whining, gasping as gojo shifts the bulk of his body weight deeper against your bare torso. he's making sure to hit that sweet, sweet spot at this filthy angle, thick tip rummaging and swabbing through your gummy walls. but surely, gojo must be close now, for you feel the thin, weeping cries of precum slip out of you and onto the damp sheets. pooled onto the inner, plush flesh of your thighs.

"sweetheart, c'mon," gojo nudges your thighs further apart, slotting his broad form so perfectly in that gap that he adores the most, "i know you can, 'm gonna' make it real good this time." leaving adoring, laving kisses over your collarbone, complete with small, pink petals that bloom after his lips pop! away.

"jus' so big, i can feel you allll in me," you moan, lips parting as small ah! ah! ah! begins punctuating the cool night air. it's sort of the magic formula, you see. praising gojo, and lavishing him with many a sincere compliment.

you learned long ago that gojo loves to hear how much you love him, especially during lovemaking. particularly when he's doing his level best to plough himself right through you, determined to have every thick-veined inch of his cock kiss you.

you hear a little, pussydrunk giggle from the man above you. ridiculously long lashes fluttering against creamy, flushed skin as gojo sighs, content as he's determined to delve further into your heat, to have you as close to him as possible, "y-yeah? that big?"

slap! slap! slap!

once, you may have burned, or been embarrassed at the soaked, sloppy sounds of your cunt leaking like a faucet around gojo's thick shaft. to be mildly conscious of how your translucent shine had been coating every inch of his cock ever since he bottomed out in you with a groaned pop!

but frankly, you had been with him for so long — by now, the man had manoeuvred you into every position possible, and you knew nothing made him pick up the pace or turned him on more than the sticky encouragement of his second favourite girl in the entire world.

"hahh, 'toru, why?" your walls suddenly clench, desparate hips bucking up to kiss his. whining at the disappointment of the quick empty sensation that takes over when gojo's gripping the base of his cock, gently sliding his shaft out that glistens with all that tender love and care.

gojo just chuckles, pressing a delicate and feather-light kiss upon your waiting lips, quelling your soft gripes. "be patient now, pretty. just gonna, yeah –" he's jostling your thighs now, quietly stretching out the stiff limbs so he can press another kiss to the inner corner of your ankle, setting both legs over his wide shoulders, "jus' gonna change the angle. gonna' get you through this next one, that alright?"

frankly, the angle is a welcome change for your smarting hamstrings so you nod, hoping that he gets a move on and presses right up against, and into you asap.

gojo seems to be just as impatient as you are, but he's holding up beautifully despite not having released himself once tonight. he often gets like this, so determined to have you fall apart for him as many times as possible before he flushes, and groans, and spills into you.

"heh, 'm pretty girl, isn't that right?" gojo's admiring you blatantly, electric-blue eyes roving over your form, six eyes vying to find that sweet spot once more, "now 'm just gonna put it innnnn, jus' like. that."

and the stretch is delicious, and oh! the way that the weeping, hot tip swipes against your clit, sloppily dragging through your folds before he's pushing past the first ring of quivering muscle.

"you can take it right? can take alll of me, can'tcha?" gojo's cooing, slapping his hips (and well, his heavy balls) against the fat of your ass, and he hardly seems bothered by the messy strands of arousal that string back, fragile and yet so loud. this angle is truly mind-numbing, for his cock is rubbing right against every sweet spot possible, and your legs are already begin to quake once more, knowing exactly what's around the corner.

"oouh, yer' doing great, just breathe for me, sweetheart," gojo murmurs, his muscled torso flexin' so deliciously in the pale, filtered light of the moon refracting through the half-open windows, "now 'm just gonna' angle ya' like this."

gojo's got a thick hand on the underside of your thigh, pushing it to the edge of his shoulder so the angle is wide open and he can watch every delicious movement of his cock into your weeping cunt, to admire how your folds throb and tense, with slick drenching down the sheets. "y'look c-close, pretty, i mean — look at how she's ready to give me another show." tapping his chin in faux thought, licking a strand of your glossy arousal off his slender fingers, "wonder if you're gon' squirt this time."

it seems that gojo satoru simply cannot shut up, but you've always known how much he loves to run his mouth.

especially when he's balls-deep in you, circling his hips to make sure that he's hitting every sensitive spot possible to make the both of you see stars, "see, look at that, 'm thinkin' that this —" gojo wetly slaps the pads of his fingers against your aching, sensitive clit, watching the drowned slosh smear over your thighs, "this is gonna make you cu — ohh, fuck, fuck!"

you suppose that it will be lost to the ages as to what exactly gojo satoru was going to say, and many will wonder how he was going to finish that sentence (although, those of us with two brain cells to rub together can hazard a guess).

but he never quite gets those words out, suddenly squeezing his eyes tight shut, so soft lashes imprint on his under-eyes. a red-hot flush suddenly climbing up his alabaster neck, as his hips buck and quiver, stuttering as hot, thick and opaque seed splurges right up in you, enough that you tense your thighs as creamy drops spill right out, "fuck, 'm feeling dizzy — s'so good, hah." gojo's whining and panting, still keeping a bruising grip on your thighs, but he's determined that not even a single drop goes to waste.

when he pulls himself together once more, what a sight, for gojo's jaw is still slack, crystalline tears pooling at the corners of his lashes as he shudders, the most powerful man currently walking the earth has come undone. but he's never one to leave your momentum interrupted, grinning with that fang-ridden, shark-like grin as he pulls your body down the bed, even close to him so your arousal and his cum pool together and stick between the two of you, "how 'bout best of, uhh. . .nine?"

actress! reader. he has a breakdown when you die in the movie

"are you for real doing this.." you looked at your husband who was passionately typing away at his laptop, through tears by the way

"babe, YOU be for real right now. what the fuck was going on in the minds of the writers that they decided to fucking kill you off?! im gonna make sure this stupid fucking movie has 0% rotten tomatoes! ugh im so fucking mad!"

you raised your eyebrow "you do remember that this is still a movie i acted in, right?"

"doesn't matter, princess! you were the main lead so they have no business killing you off! like wheres the plot armor?? uneducated asses. dont even know that the main leads always has to live, how did they even become a writer!" he said furiously

the latest movie you filmed in has been released on every platforms. you were particularly excited about this because this was the first time you acted as a main lead and it was also based on a medieval era. but however excited you had been, gojo was a thousand times more excited than you. he always supported your dreams and saw it as his own. he showed up during almost every shooting session, looking as proud as always. hyping you up so much that even the staffs started to get annoyed

"i can tell that this movie is going to be a blockbuster because of my baby," he had beamed at you and pecked your lips lovingly. absolutely unbothered by the offended stares he got

unfortunately, he couldn't make it to the last days of shooting because of missions. for which he showed great sadness (you had to provide him selfies with your pretty outfits, so that he doesnt lose his mind) which is why he didn't know the ending and since you didnt want to spoil it to him, you kept your mouth shut.. which was maybe a wrong decision

he had taken a leave from work just to stream the movie with you. arranged a super big bowl of sweets instead of popcorn like a normal person would, made the couch all cozy and even went as far as to turn off all the lights to give this a 'theater' vibe (hes planning to open one at his home to stream your movies)

at the start of the movie, he seemed really excited and happy. everytime you appeared at the big screen of his 80 inch tv, he would go 'thats my baby omg' with heart eyes like a fanboy. which he was to be honest

but as the movie progressed and you showed signs of, well dying, his heart sanked. and when you did die, he horrifiedly muttered 'what the fuck..' repeatedly and started bawling his eyes out while hugging you tightly

which brings you here with him writing a review of your just released movie and rating it 0

"this is not enough," he muttered. rubbing his face with his hand, he said "i gotta sue them for making this absolutely atrocious movie and for emotional damage."

"aw toru," you somewhat jutted your lips "did you really not like it?" you said dejectedly

his furrowed brows relaxed at your tone. he pulled you closer to him and pecked your forehead. "maybe i am overreacting a bit," he said sheepishly "but seeing you... die like this, even if its just in a movie, made my heart sink to my stomach." you noticed he used the word die fearfully and with great reluctance

you batted your eyelashes at him, innocently "oh.. but im still with you, no?"

he smiled sadly at your words, you really have no idea about the hold you have over him

"well yeah... but no offense to you, im never watching this movie again." he firmly said with furrowed brows

you giggled at your silly husband and flicked his forehead "none taken."

extra :

"ugh im feeling nauseous because i keep getting reminded of those scenes, I might really puke."

"babe i know you love me but thats only because of those damn sweets."

bday post:') not proofread !

HWANG FUCKING HYUNJIN. I AM FERAL

GG!

pairing: frat boy!haitani ran x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

synopsis: ran wants to break you, but you aim to beat him at his own game.

rating: nsfw! MDNI. i’m watching <3

cw: heavy cursing, ran and rin are kinda misogynistic >:(, smoking (weed), shotgunning, dubcon only bc of the smoking, reader is wearing a skirt, pet names (just baby but he also says good girl once), dom!ran, sub!reader, oral (f!receiving), fingering, spitting, size kink if you really squint, some degradation, implied squirting, overstim, ran is a Cocky Whore but so are you bae! lmk if i'm forgetting any

a/n: wow cara's using she/her pronouns for once? yeah i'm just as shocked as you are 😳 also this is just under 2.5k words so this is by far the longest fic i’ve posted on here >:)

haitani ran is never one to lose his cool, but god help him, he thinks he might lose it anytime he thinks about you.

he’s known around campus for getting anything or anyone he wants, but you’ve changed that. without even meaning to, you pick away at his ego each and every chance you get. never before has someone turned him down as much as you have, and the fact that you bat your lashes and smile up at him when you do, to top it all off? you’re so irritating.

ran has decided that he hates you— he hates you and your pretty voice, your even prettier face, and dear god, your fucking body— he hates that he can’t get enough of you.

but what he hates the most is the fact that you make him work for even an ounce of your attention, and he can tell that you know what you’re doing. he knows just by the way you hold his gaze with that all too confident and mischievous look in your eyes.

and on top of that, even when you haven’t given in even a little bit no matter how much he’s pushed you, he still wants to bend you to his fucking will– and if that doesn’t work, he’ll just break you instead.

that usually isn’t an issue for him, as he’s never had a hard time getting the woman he has his eyes set on. you keep proving to be a different story, however.

ran thinks his best course of action is to start simple; he’ll get your number under the guise of missing last week’s notes. it’s easy enough, and that’s worked every single time so far. but when you look at him with a kind, calming smile and utter, “no,” he’s completely fucking floored.

you don’t even offer a reason or excuse. just a flat no before walking past him to head back to your seat. you know who he is and you know exactly what he aims to do, which is precisely why you want to keep him at arm's length, yet still keep his attention solely on you.

you live for the thrill of it all— of beating an arrogant man at his own game. ran isn’t even slightly aware of that, but he is well aware of the fact that something is up. he has no idea what, though, and he can’t stand it. 

you’re even more irritating than you were before, now. he’s irritated that he can’t figure you out or get you to budge, and he complains about you to his brother non-fucking-stop, which drives rindo up the damn walls.

“she’s just so fuckin’ annoying. never met a bitch with a stick shoved that far up her ass–”

“so maybe, here’s a crazy thought, just leave her alone, then?”

rindo’s words make a lot of sense, but ran still can’t help but to look at him like he’s stupid. why would he want to leave you alone? sure, he tells rin all the time that he can drop you and get any bitch he wants if it comes down to it (his exact words, actually), but to just let you go? now, after how hard he’s been trying? that’s ridiculous!

“nah, ‘m not a bitch. i gotta see it through now,” ran says with a sly grin.

rindo, however, can see right through his brother, “yeah, whatever. never thought i’d see the day you’d be chasin’ some broad.”

ran simply shrugs his brother’s words off. he’s definitely not chasing you! at least, that’s what he keeps saying to himself, though it seems like rindo’s words might hold some truth when ran sees you again a few days later. you’ve show up to one of his parties, coincidentally, and he’s more than fucking happy to see you.

it’s almost like he’s giddy.

he blames it on the weed in his system, though, before pushing through the crowd so that he can head over to you. you’re alone for some reason, clad in a pretty skirt, joint between your soft lips, and phone in hand. it’s the perfect opportunity, he thinks.

“hey,” you speak first once he’s close enough, straining to talk over the loud music, and ran barely conceals his surprise. “i’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“oh, yeah?”

bingo. he swears he’s got you right where he wants you– you’ve finally come around, he thinks– and he doesn’t stop for even a second to consider the fact that this is strange. usually he’d be a lot more perceptive but his mind is a bit too hazy for that at the moment.

if ran were sober, he’d have noticed that this was out of character for you. it would have been obvious that you had something planned. but instead, he simply falls right into your little trap. after all, the only thing he’s thinking about is fucking you absolutely stupid— how could he be expected to notice something was up?

“yeah,” you nod with a pretty smile. “we can smoke, if you want.”

are you crazy? of course he fucking wants to. ran has been waiting for a moment like this the entire semester— there was no chance in hell he’d turn you down. he doesn’t bother answering (you can tell what his answer is based on his grin alone, anyway), and opts to just lead you to a small sitting area instead.

you don’t hesitate to follow him and the conversation, much to your surprise, flows freely. in fact, you’re talking so easily that you’ve barely even hit the joint. it keeps burning out and you’ve had to relight it about three different times by the time ran finally gets tired and just takes it from you, lighting it himself and taking a hit so large that it nearly startles you.

and you don’t say anything to stop him, either, as you’re practically frozen when he scooches closer to you. before you can even begin to reel yourself back in, ran cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. when did he get that fucking close?

your mind is racing so fast that you can’t discern even a single coherent thought— the only thing you can actually make out is his lips brushing against yours, followed by the smoke he blows into your mouth. you don’t even remember parting your lips but the smoke is so thinned out by now that you have no problem inhaling it, anyway, and ran grins.

“good girl.”

if you were out of it before, your brain is completely fucking mush now. you finally get it, you think. you understand why people are so quick to fall for him. he’s fucking mesmerizing, and you know he’s just so damn cocky about it, too. so self assured and confident in his ability to get exactly what he wants, when he wants it.

he absolutely views this as a game, but unbeknownst to him, you’re the one holding all the cards.

as soon as you’ve blown the smoke back out, you close the distance between his lips and yours. the crowd around you doesn’t matter– everyone is too high or drunk to care anyway– you just want to feel him, and god, his lips are so fucking soft and his taste is more intoxicating than the weed. he blindly puts the joint out, you’re not even sure how, but you’re glad he didn’t pull away. 

there’s a certain desperation behind the kiss that you’re hoping ran can’t feel, though in reality, he’s even more fucking eager than you are. he’s absolutely certain that he hasn’t been this excited at the idea of fucking someone since he was a teenager, and he’s already so fucking hard that it hurts.

and you– you’re fucking killing him, deliberately taking your time and teasing him with your fleeting kisses. he groans against you when you take his bottom lip between your teeth and gently tug, pulling him closer.

“you’ve been holdin’ out on me,” ran tells you as he pulls away, grinning at the string of spit that continues to connect the two of you. “y’know how bad you been pissin’ me off?”

“show me.”

fuck, fuck, fuck, ran is losing his goddamn mind and he can only pray that you don’t realize the effect you have on him. as soon as the words register, he grabs your wrist and tugs you off the couch with him and through the crowd. his hand rests at the small of your back and his touch is searing, but you love fucking it.

when you get to his room, ran lets his eagerness get the best of him and he practically shoves you inside. you expected this so you easily take it in stride, simply settling yourself on the edge of his bed, and your unbothered demeanor makes him want to ruin you more than he already does.

“lay down,” he says, to which you oblige.

ran’s large hands immediately find your plush thighs and without a second thought, he flips your skirt up to reveal your panties that are already embarrassingly wet. if he notices, he doesn’t say anything, simply taking in the view of you splayed out all pretty beneath him.

you squirm impatiently, “ran–”

his eyes flicker to yours only for a second, yet that alone was enough for you to get the message. you close your mouth and when he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, you lift your hips to aid him in getting them off.

part of you can’t believe this– that you’re letting haitani ran see you like this, but you don’t care. he hasn’t even touched you yet and somehow you already feel dizzy and lightheaded in the best way, though that might just be the weed. 

you aren’t certain, and honestly, that’s perfectly fine. you’d ruin the moment by thinking too much, so you relax and let ran do whatever he wants for the time being. he grabs the back of your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, audibly groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt.

“fuck, you’ve been holdin’ out on me,” ran repeats. he drops to his knees and hooks his arms around your thighs, tugging you closer and placing your legs over his shoulders. “look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy– all for me, huh?”

“‘course,” you breathe, already delirious. “please–”

you don’t even get to finish your sentence, as he spits directly onto your cunt and rubs it in with the hand that isn’t gripping your thigh. you gasp and jolt at the feeling, though it’s quickly replaced by his tongue instead as he licks a stripe up through your folds.

and god, ran is absolutely fucking obscene, sucking loudly and moaning against you as if he were the one being catered to. you scramble to grasp onto something, one hand settling at the back of his head and you can’t help but to wish that his hair wasn’t tied back in his usual braids right now so you could hold something.

“o-oh fuck,” you whimper as you fight the urge to rut your hips against his tongue.

it’s already too much and not enough at the same time, and you’re completely fucking shocked by how good ran is making you feel. it’s as if he already knows your body perfectly– like he’s taken the time to map out your body time and time again in his head. little do you know, he has.

“ran, i-i’m– fuck, cumming–”

“already?” he taunts, already sinking two fingers into you. it takes him no time at all to find the sweet spot inside you. you mewl, and he can’t get enough. “you’re so easy.”

you would have laughed at him for saying something so ridiculous under any other circumstances, but right now, you’re too preoccupied with your orgasm. it hits you so suddenly and you’re certain that you’ve never cum this hard before. 

you can barely even fucking think right now but you still take the time to thank every god you can think of for the music being as loud as it is because you’re on the verge of screaming, tears heavy on your bottom lashes. you should have done this forever ago.

“ohh, that’s it,” ran coos against you, lapping up everything you have to offer. “so fuckin’ sloppy, baby. gonna gimme another one.”

he isn’t asking– he’s telling you. you don’t have much of a choice, anyway, as another orgasm is building up faster than you can even begin to keep up with. your legs are limp over his shoulders, but you’re frantically pushing against him as you try your damnedest not to cry from the overstimulation.

“ran, ran, ‘s too much!”

he thinks you’re so cute, legs twitching uncontrollably around his head and back arching off the bed. frankly, he doesn’t care if it’s too much, and he curls his fingers inside you only a few more times before you cum again, gushing all over his fingers, face, and tongue.

now that you take a second to think about it, you know you definitely haven’t cum this hard before. you didn’t expect this from ran, but you refuse to complain.

as soon as you’ve started to come down, you wipe the stray tears that spilled onto your cheeks and recollect yourself. part of you is disappointed that this’ll never happen again, but you’ve already reconciled with that fact already. it’ll be worth it, just to see his face at the end of it all.

scratch that– i’ll be worth it to have the bragging rights. you beat the haitani ran at his own game. you’ve got every right to brag about it.

ran pulls away and stands up, starting to take off his belt, but he stops at the sight of you shakily sitting up with a dopey smile on your face. he chuckles airily as your eyes meet because he just assumes you’re going to help him out– instead, you stand up and dust your skirt off, even with your legs feeling like jello at this point.

his brows furrow but you give him no room to question you as you say, “thanks, ran. i’ll see you tuesday?”

you don’t wait for his response or even bother searching for your panties before you leave the room. he can keep them as some kind of reward, you guess– you don’t really care, nor do you want to know. you just want to get out.

as the door clicks shut behind you, ran stands in his room, silent and dumbfounded, with his belt halfway off and his face still covered in your slick. he can’t even fucking comprehend what just happened, but he feels a new kind of irritation deep in his bones.

did that seriously just happen? he realizes now that he should have just fucking listened to rindo because once again, you’ve damaged his ego, and he’s pissed. you’re not just irritating, you’re infuriating, but even when ran’s seething, he can’t get the images of you underneath him or the pretty sounds you make out of his mind.

ran is certain of it now– he fucking hates you.

a/n: posting this as the reqs in my inbox stare at me disappointedly 😟 also gonna make a part 2 for this. ran gets his revenge mwahaha

taglist: @aerixsm @bajifuyutorabb @somebodysstupidwife @itzizumi

I need them both so bad like bae pls AUGHWHSU.