SUNSET DRIVE ☼ k.rengoku x reader

1; Heat

Track 1; Dress by Charlotte Sands

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You didn't want to deal with 95 degree weather today. The second your alarm went off you slammed it repetitively until it finally stopped. Face down, you were half on the bed and half off, one leg covered in the sheet that somehow still remained on your bed. Two large fans blew the cool morning air into your bedroom, yet it was still too hot to think of even being a functioning member of society. You lifted your head up, hidden from the waning rays of sun underneath your pillow and sighed. It was too bad you didn't really have a choice in the matter. If you didn't get up soon enough....he would have something to do with it.

So in order to maintain your decency, you did yourself the favor of rolling out of bed. The last week and a half had been nothing but days of obliterating sun and 90 plus weather, so you'd been sleeping in the nude. You couldn't sleep with any clothes on otherwise you'd be sweating worse than a sinner in church and it was impossible to sleep that way. You unburied your outfit of choice for the day, a red halter top and a pair of black shorts. Thankfully you didn't have to worry about work for the next few days, you'd taken them off as a well-deserved vacation. After all, you'd pulled yourself and your brother off of the street and it hadn't been easy. You'd worked your ass off to get here.

Just as you're pulling your left leg through your shorts, your bedroom door almost blows off of its hinges. Immediately your head turns, and a boar head is the first thing you see. You grab the nearest thing you can use as a projectile—your hairdryer—and launch it at him.

"INOSUKE! GET THE FUCK OUT—"

"NAKED WITCH!" He ducks, the hairdryer hitting a poster in place of where his head should have been. "NAKED WITCH!" He fled the room before you could huck anything else. You grit your teeth and groan, hiking your shorts the rest of the way up and stomping out your bedroom door.

This had become a morning ritual: you would aggressively turn off your alarm and make it with your pants halfway on before your first rush of cortisol entered your system.

The first picture is labeled as follows: a fifteen year old boy beelining to the bathroom to fetch the broom and mop to use as a weapon, properly named Inosuke Hashibira. The second picture consists of his twenty year old sister, now holding her hair straightener in her main hand as a killing machine, (Y/N) Hashibira. And finally, Inosuke's friends witnessed the Hashibira routine from the couch in the living room.

Tanjiro, Nezuko, and Zenitsu only exchanged a glance when a boyish shriek echoed, and a maskless Inosuke scurried into the living room like a four legged animal. He dove behind the couch when your fuming form came around the corner, a boar mask scrunched in your hand, and stormed into the kitchen. You slammed the boar mask onto the counter and went about the process of making yourself a cup of coffee. You didn't notice the other two teenage boys in your apartment until Tanjiro shifted slightly. The sudden switch in your demeanor, like a storm cloud was blown away by a sudden hurricane full of sunshine and rainbows always caught them off guard.

"Good morning! What do you have planned with hellspawn over there today?"

"Uh, we were going to go to the arcade, but Zenitsu lost his bus pass." Tanjiro answered your question.

Your eyes rolled across the small group before landing on the electric blond, cocking an eyebrow at him before looking back down to your cup of coffee. "How did that happen?"

Zenitsu began to explain. It went in one ear and out the other by the time you took your first sip of coffee. "Which arcade?" You already knew where this conversation was headed.