𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?
warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it
word count: 10.9K (whoops)
note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3
jjk masterlist
never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything.
you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights.
his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to.
and he seems to despise you.
you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore.
he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you.
but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back.
you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three.
but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed.
he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything.
after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up.
and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you.
ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans.
you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him.
not that it mattered now.
all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.
you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip.
whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.
any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry.
he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away.
you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else.
“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left.
it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer.
sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up.
for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity.
but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from.
“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples.
“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone.
you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged.
he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies.
he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle.
it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak.
“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife.
if only you knew.
“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long.
you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say.
“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you.
“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it.
“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features.
and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show.
“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk).
he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.
“just tell them the truth.”
the truth.
tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up.
tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were.
tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms.
tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms.
tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position.
you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.
“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.”
you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.
the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind.
you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy.
“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him.
you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position.
but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.
“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door.
“i don’t-”
“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway.
you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself.
---
the feast of clans came earlier than you expected.
you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered.
you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury.
“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.
“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.”
he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside.
“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating.
you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen.
“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate.
“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such?
“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”
gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you.
“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement.
“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”
the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away.
you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking.
“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless.
gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite.
“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic.
“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”
“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.”
you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind.
a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.
“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”
“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly.
“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this.
“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”
your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.
“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it.
“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you.
you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around.
“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile.
“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response.
“if you want to hide, i’ll-”
“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!”
a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.
“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.”
you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families.
“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch.
“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other.
“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh.
“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you.
his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature.
“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded.
you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance.
you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl.
she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions.
she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls.
you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat.
you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you.
you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.
---
gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him.
“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress.
“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down.
you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead.
so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other.
once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo.
you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased.
though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation.
“what you saw last night-”
“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.”
“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either.
“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables.
“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words.
“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.”
you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it.
you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck.
leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you.
you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so.
it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him.
“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door.
your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else.
“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door.
you didn’t answer, still, waiting.
“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door.
“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit.
you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table.
“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.
a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing.
---
gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day.
it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy.
you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time.
when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned.
“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down.
“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks.
“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet.
“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you.
your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis.
you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.
sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders.
myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing.
until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window.
“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.
his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw.
he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance.
“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her.
the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had.
“are you alright?”
you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being.
he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either.
“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly.
“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you.
“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.”
“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you.
“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.”
“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable.
“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”
you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three.
“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure.
“you are my wife-”
“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.
gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back.
“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man.
“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.
he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint.
he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks.
“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.”
you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self.
“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you.
“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself.
“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint.
he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw.
“what do you mean?”
you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin.
“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”
“letters? what letters?”
you glance at him, taking in his shaking form.
“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”
his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing.
“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.”
the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement.
“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks.
“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.”
you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words.
“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you.
“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations.
“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face, twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-”
“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull.
“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-”
“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.”
you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones.
“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago.
“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.”
a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it.
“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face.
“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself.
“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.”
he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters.
you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided.
it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours.
it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined.
“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love.
“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness.
he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you.
“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder.
“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again.
“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin.
“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name.
“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could.
“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them.
“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did.
“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one.
“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours.
“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago.
“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it.
“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.
“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”
“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips.
you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move.
his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give.
your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch.
“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds.
“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin.
“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face.
his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.
“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him.
“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down.
he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this.
but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you.
you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.
he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.
he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most.
“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.”
he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye.
his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck.
it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be.
his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall.
“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response.
“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more.
his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more.
he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit.
“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision.
you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo.
“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.
“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt.
you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over.
when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces.
he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest.
“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?”
he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you.
“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.”
you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you.
“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that.
“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.
“and then?”
your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face.
“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs.
“and then?”
“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.”
“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking.
“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain.
“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves.
“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.
More Posts from Valentsoup and Others
Not tonight.
in which the jjk men cancels their valentines plans with you.
‹ 3 incl: gojo, toji, sukuna, geto, choso, nanami.
have fun reading!💘
conts: angst.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!
© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
it girl | sanzu h.
synopsis. you find sanzu after a fight at a party and end up introducing yourself and helping him patch up. turns out sanzu isn't as extroverted when it comes to speaking to girls, rindou finds out.
contains. smut, first time (sanzu's a virgin), nervous sanzu, bold reader, mentions of violence, busted lips, bruised knuckles, kantou!manji era, nude/explicit photos, oral (m), sanzu gets head for the first time, koko rindou and sanzu are best friends idc.
author's note. sanzu's so pretty but i just know that boy has never felt the touch of a woman, hence why i wrote this lmfao. call it a power move or whatever 🙄 (i wanna see more submissive sanzu honestly). fanart credits: caravaggist
“My head is fucking killing me,” Sanzu said with a pained groan. He began coughing until he started laughing, running purely on adrenaline. “I beat that fucker’s ass, didja see that?!”
“Shut up, stop being so loud.” Sanzu winced when Rindou smacked him upside the head. He looked down at his busted, bruised knuckles and cursed. “We’re so fucking dead.”
“Told you not to drink that much,” Koko sniped, gesturing with his chin over at Sanzu. “Got us into a goddamn fight.”
“Not my fault you guys are such wimps.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Koko doubled over to catch his breath, slumping against a car.
“Are you guys okay?” you called out, steadily approaching the three boys.
Your heart nearly stopped when they all turned to meet your eyes, but there was one you couldn’t take your eyes off of the most. He had green eyes and crazy pink hair tied up into a ponytail. You’d been eyeing him for the majority of the party, just small glances over at whichever end he was loudly talking at. The entire time you had been taking extra shots for courage to approach him but pussied out each time. When you were upstairs, there was loud shouting, chanting, and the sound of things breaking as a group of boys managed to get into a fight. You didn’t see the full thing, only coming down the stairs the exact moment you saw the three of them run outside, tearing down the street and around the block in record time. A quick scan of the party, you saw the pink haired guy was no longer there, so your feet went running before you could even think of what you were doing.
He was much prettier up close, an ethereal kind of beauty you rarely ever see. Not many people can rock long pink hair but he manages to make it work well.
You ran out, taking off after them. It was a miracle you found them, having guessed which direction they must’ve took off in.
“Who are you?” Kokonoi asked, looking strangely at you.
“I was at the party,” you gestured down the street, “and saw everything. Are you guys okay?” you repeated, walking a little closer to the group.
Kokonoi’s hostility dropped down a few notches and he nodded. Rindou shrugged and rolled his neck, trying to ease away the stiffness residing in his bones. Sanzu, on the other hand, just stared at you dumbfoundedly. He didn’t say a word, just stared at you with half wide eyes that only widened when you met his gaze. You held eye contact for a few seconds before looking down at his knuckles. Out of the three, Sanzu was probably the most roughed up, having done the most the entire fight and caught the most strays. His lip was busted and his knuckles were bruised.
“Oh that looks really bad. One second,” you said, pulling out a tissue from your pocket “Can I?” you asked, looking into his eyes. He doesn’t say yes or no, and Rindou isn’t even sure he’s breathing anymore. He doesn’t stop you as you hold his bruised hand and lift it up to your face for examination.
You placed the tissue onto his knuckles. “I’m sorry that happened by the way. I don’t know how it started but I’m sure you guys didn’t deserve it.”
Kokonoi snorted and Rindou elbows him roughly. “Eh it’s whatever. Bottom line is we won, so.”
“You guys shouldn’t be fighting like that though. Especially in public. The police got called and are probably on their way here.”
“Wait seriously?!” Kokonoi whipped his head up at you and you nodded. He cursed under his breath. “We better get going again. Don’t wanna have to get bailed out again.”
Again?
“True that,” Rindou agreed, dusting off his pants. His head was pounding and he might probably have a concussion, but all that didn’t matter to him. He just needed to get out of here. “Call Ran, he’ll come pick us up.”
“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Kokonoi replied.
“Better him than Mikey.”
“But—”
You tuned out the rest of their conversation and continued dabbing Sanzu’s knuckles, who still hadn’t said a single word since you approached. You blinked up at him and removed the bag from his hand.
“Your lip is bleeding,” you announced, and he almost flinched away when your thumb rose to his lip. “Does it hurt?” He shook his head. “Can I put this on your lip?” You shook the tissue in your hand.
He nodded slowly and your smile nearly sent him straight to heaven. You pulled a water bottle from your purse and wet the tissue, pressing it on his lip and held onto his chin, tipping his head upright so you could see what you were doing better. Granted the tissue probably weren’t helping at all, but you had to work with what you had.
“This looks really painful,” you murmured, fixated on the damages done to his face. He has these two pairs of twin scars on both sides of his mouth that you think are so cute. Without thinking, you let your thumb trace the diamond outline gently. You pull the tissue away from his lip and pocket it. “Does your lip hurt?”
Sanzu shook his head and you smiled. “That’s good.”
Rindou looked over at Sanzu weirdly, wondering why the loudest person in the group was suddenly so quiet. He didn’t have time to explore that train of thought deeper because Kokonoi spoke up.
“Rin, Sanzu. Ran’s on his way now. Let’s go.” He pocketed his phone and turned to you. “Thanks for the warning about the cops by the way. Really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem.”
A black car pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down. “You three are so fucking dead,” Ran said exasperatedly.
“As long as Mikey doesn’t find out we’re goo—” Kokonoi’s relief came crumbling down as his biggest fear came to light. The passenger seat window rolled down and Mikey’s face came into view. He didn’t look mad, honestly he didn’t look like anything. Just emotionless, but that was enough to scare the absolute shit out of Koko. “Boss, we can explain—”
“Get in the car.”
Kokonoi swallowed but obliged, his feet dragging behind him as he walked around the car to get in.
You looked back over at Sanzu who’s eyes hadn't left yours. “Guess this is goodbye. I’m (Name) by the way. What’s yours?”
Whatever reaction anyone was expecting, it wasn’t for Sanzu to completely stammer over his words, forgetting who he was, or how to form a literate sentence. “Me name? Who is—I—what, huh?”
Rindou looked at him like he grew two heads, even Mikey raised a confused brow. You pressed your lips together in a thin line to stop yourself from laughing and Sanzu’s ears burnt with humiliation. Frankly he was mortified with those being the first words he’s said to you ever. Rindou thankfully saved him from more embarrassment by grabbing the back of his collar hard.
“His name is Sanzu by the way,” he told you before dragging him towards the car, kicking him into the backseat. The door slammed shut and you watched as Rindou entered the front next to his brother and then the car pulled off, recklessly rounding the corner.
You stayed there for a minute, blinking, then smiled giddily down at the floor before making your way back to your friends inside.
~*~
“Yeah they’ve definitely got a concussion,” the nurse said, snapping her gloves off. She stepped away from the three boys at the table and handed them each plastic cups of water. “Make sure you drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”
“Thanks doc.” Mikey wrote her a check and she nodded, thanking him before exiting the room. He looked at the three in them in disappointment. They each had an annoying habit of crashing random parties going on in the street and getting shit faced, then turning up to work and events hungover or too exhausted. Now they have hit the final nail in the coffin by getting in a physical altercation with strangers and the police are probably looking for their asses right now.
“I have nothing to say to you three. You heard the woman, get plenty of rest,” he scolded before leaving the room.
“Who wants to bet the medical bills are coming out of our paycheck?” Rindou asked, sliding off the table. He rubbed his head exhaustedly and yawned.
“I might just have a heart attack if I see that,” Kokonoi responded, shuddering.
“That girl…” Sanzu muttered under his breath, scratching his chin.
“What?”
“That girl,” he repeated louder as if he just came to a sudden realisation, “was a fucking angel!”
“Oh. Welcome back to earth Mr. Who me is name I what?” Rindou mocked, amusement written all over his face as Sanzu rolled his eyes.
Kokonoi laughed loudly. “Oh yeah! What the fuck was that all about?”
“Shut up,” Sanzu grumbled and closed his eyes, blocking their mockery out. He tried to picture your face again behind his closed lids but the concussion was slowly getting worse and your face was starting to fade from his memory. “I need to find this girl and redeem myself. What’s her name?” he said snipply, snapping his fingers at the two boys for them to hurry up.
“Stop being a weirdo. You probably blew your chances anyway,” Rindou stated.
“Nah uh! It wasn’t that bad!”
“Who me is name I what?” Kokonoi repeated and Sanzu groaned loudly.
“Keep making fun of me whatever! But when I find her and make her my future wife I don’t want to hear shit from any of you.”
“Wow,” Kokonoi fake gasped. “You can tell your future kids the story of how you met!”
“Future wife huh?” Rindou chuckled. “So we’re just skipping past girlfriend?”
“Gotta aim big.”
Kokonoi shook his head. “That girl wants nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah? Well why did she patch me up and not you two fucking idiots then? HUH?” Sanzu gestured to his busted lip. The two boys had nothing else to say and just rolled their eyes, muttering whatever under their breath. “Exactly, shut the fuck up.”
Sanzu traced his scars with his finger. He could still feel the gentle trail of your finger on his skin and closed his eyes once more, picturing you in front of him, staring up at him with such care in your eyes as you genuinely found yourself worried at his injuries. He looked down at his knuckles, still bruised, and pictured your hand in his. He regretted not saying more to you earlier, regretted not actually having a conversation with you and telling him his injuries looked worse than they actually felt.
Sanzu stood up and Rindou called out to him. “Oi. Where the hell are you going? We’re heading back to mines.”
“I’m going back to that party to redeem myself.”
“It’s been like an hour and it’s almost three am. She’s long gone. Let it go.”
Sanzu shook his head, condescendingly clicking his tongue in a way that ground Rindou’s gears. “Don’t be jealous Rin.”
“Jealous of?”
“I got a girl that wants me for me, not my dick.”
“That’s something only a virgin would say,” Kokonoi inputs, laughing when Sanzu instantly closes his mouth. “No way, are you actually a virgin?”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes you are!”
“I’m not!”
“Who’d you lose it to?”
Sanzu scoffs. “Like anyone remembers that,”
“Okay playboy.” Rindou laughs. “I remember mine.”
“So do I,” Kokonoi high fives Rindou. The two of them look at Sanzu. “Well? What’s her name?”
“I was high. Don’t remember,” Sanzu shrugs. Rindou looks over at Koko who both equally look unimpressed. “ANYWAY! It doesn’t matter because I’m going to find that girl and redeem myself tonight.”
Kakucho enters the room. “Find what girl?”
“Redeem yourself for what?” Kokonoi asks.
Rindou laughs even louder. “Redeem himself for “Oh friend who I am what?””
Sanzu’s ears burn when Koko joins in the laughter. “Alright so just forget my question. Cool,” Kakucho rolls his eyes.
“Sanzu got us into a fight tonight and some girl helped him with his busted lip and now he thinks he’s in love.”
“I don’t think—”
“We know,” Kokonoi interrupts.
Sanzu shoots him a glare. “If you’d let me finish,” he says snarkily. “I don’t think I'm in love. I know I am.”
“In love with a girl you don’t even know the name of?” Kakucho asks hesitantly. He should be used to this by now honestly, it's not the first time Sanzu got hyper fixated over something, except in this case it's someone. In actuality, he should be worried for this girl, knowing how obsessive Sanzu gets at times. Picturing the boy in a relationship was something Kakucho just could not do no matter how hard he tries.
“I’ll find her name. You forget who I am and what I do in this goddamn organisation?”
“Aside from dragging us to useless parties and getting us involved in unnecessary fights?” Rindou asked.
“You had fun tonight, stop acting like you hated it that bad,” Sanzu complained.
“What did this girl look like?” Kakucho asks.
Sanzu describes your appearance from your height all the way down to your eye colour, recounting to his friends every single detail he managed to observe about you the entire time he spent staring at you. They all looked at him with concern. Sanzu noticed their glare and shrugged. “What?”
“Surprised you didn’t count every single lash of hers honestly,” Kokonoi rubbed his forehead exhaustedly when his head pounded again. “This headache is killing me. Gonna head home.”
They all said goodbye and waited for him to leave the room.
“I think I know the girl,” Kakucho said, recounting the horrifying moment of Sanzu describing you in as much detail as possible.
“WHAT?!” Sanzu exclaimed far too loudly for his head and Rindou’s to handle, a sharp pain shooting their heads. “Ah fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his head.
“Are you serious?” Rindou asked, looking at Kakucho who nodded.
“Yeah. Someone like that lives on my floor. I see her leaving every morning.”
“To Kakucho’s we go!” Sanzu grinned, grabbing the younger boy's hand and dragging him outside. Rindou reluctantly follows behind them, wanting to see where this situation was heading.
Kakucho ended up being right, and when they entered the lobby of his apartment, they saw you collecting your mail. Sanzu’s feet felt frozen to the floor as he just stared at your side profile. He almost had a stroke when you turned to face in his direction, and he swore you were looking directly at him when you broke out into a smile, waving your hand.
“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” you said and Sanzu was confused. It’s only been a few hours, hasn’t it?
You were walking and he stood up a little straight when it looked like you were heading towards his direction, only for his heart to do a complete 360 when you hugged Kakucho instead. It wasn’t an affectionate hug, both your hands barely lingered on each other’s body, just an awkward side hug that lasted barely 2 seconds.
“Yeah, you know. I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”
“Ah cool cool. I’ve been collecting your mail though.” You handed him his mail. He thanked you and held them under his arm.
You looked at two boys next to them and then gasped. “Oh its you!” You pointed between Sanzu and Rindou, who only nodded, asking how you’ve been. Sanzu was frozen again as you and Rindou gave each other basic small talk, only breaking out of his stupor when Rindou elbowed him hard in the stomach.
You bit down a laugh when you saw Sanzu clutch onto his stomach in pain. “Oh my god, are you alright?” Sanzu could hear the laugh in your voice, but didn’t feel offended the slightest.
“I’m good, yeah. Just distracted.”
“Oh. Am I boring you?”
He was too scared of the fact you thought that about him to notice the playful hint in your voice. “No! Not at all. I just have a concussion that's all.”
“No way. Does it hurt? Are you okay?” You hesitantly lift your hand up and press it on his forehead which is burning up. “You need to get some sleep right now.”
“It’s too late to drive right now.” Kakucho says. “You two can just sleep at mine.”
“Only if I get your bed,” Sanzu adds.
“Fuck that. Sleep on the couch.”
“But I’m concussed.”
“And who’s goddamn fault is that?”
Sanzu rolled his eyes. Kakucho sighed. “Fine. You can get the bed.”
“Let’s fucking go,” Sanzu grinned and started heading towards the elevator. The other two boys followed them and Kakucho looked behind at you.
“You coming?”
Sanzu pressed the button and turned to look at you and Kakucho as you shook your head. “No, I'm heading back out.”
“Right now?” Kakucho says and looks at his watch, “It’s almost 4 am?”
“I know,” you sigh exhaustedly. “My friend, well kinda friend, I guess wants me to come to his house. Just got his text a few minutes ago.”
“At this hour?” Kaku says sceptically.
“So a booty call?” Rindou says and gets elbowed by Kakucho, telling him to mind his business.
You laugh. “I guess if that's what you want to call it. I don’t sleep with him, he just uses me to impress his friends it feels like.” Your eyes slide over to Sanzu who has a scowl on his face and looks away almost immediately after you make eye contact. “I don’t wanna do it but he scares me so I feel like I have to.”
“What’s his name?” Kakucho asks.
“Why? You gonna hurt him?” you ask back. Though you and Kakucho are only neighbours at best, you’re well aware of what he does and his reputation around town. The Brawler is his nickname, or was, back when he was in Tenjiku. But you didn’t know what his role or job entailed, all you knew he was in some shady shit and you wanted no part of it.
“Depends if I know the guy or not.”
You roll your eyes. “His name is Osanai.”
“Wait a minute,” Rindou says, “Is he tall? Smokes all the time, blonde hair? Kinda tan?”
“Yeah…” you say slowly, sceptically, “how’d you know?”
“We’ve actually been kinda looking for that guy. Mikey wanted to see him, didn't he?” Rindou asks Kakucho who shrugs and points over to Sanzu who’s been awfully quiet the entire time. “Didn’t he?” Rindou asks Sanzu again.
“Oh. Yes he has.” He looks up and meets your gaze one more time before looking away.
“Where’s he at?” Rindou asks, approaching you.
“I dunno probably his house?”
“Okay but where genius.”
You give him Osanai’s address and he starts heading outside. “Wait! Don’t kill him or something.”
“Why do you care what we do? Doesn’t he scare you?”
“I mean yes but that doesnt mean I want him dead…”
Kakucho sighs. “Sanzu wait here with (y/n), me and Rindou will sort this out.”
Sanzu instantly looks at Kakucho. “Wait—”
“Just do it,” Rindou snickers before the two of them leave. Sanzu watches them go with a betrayed look on his face, already thinking of 101 different ways to kill Rindou once he got back home. You look up at Sanzu and smile at him.
“So…you can go home if you want. I don't need a babysitter.”
“No it's fine I'll uh wait here.”
“We can go back to mine?” you ask a little hopeful.
Sanzu opens his mouth to speak but the words can't seem to come out. He resorts to nodding and you smile, taking his hand in yours and walking up to your apartment.
~*~
Three hours in and you’ve been binging shitty movies together, laughing at the bad plot and horribly written characters. When you first saw Sanzu at the party, he was outgoing and the life of the room honestly. Maybe your opinion is a bit biased because you were focused on nothing but him, but he had this energy that attracted you to him. Now, in front of you, he’s nothing like he was a few hours ago, he seems shy and reserved, keeping to himself but he’s still funny and cracks a few jokes that make you cackle every now and then.
“Wait you got a little, i’ll get it for you,” you say, cupping his chin and turning his face to you. He watches you with wide eyes as your thumb comes up to his lip and wipes some tomato sauce off. you make continuous eye contact with him as you bring your thumb to your mouth and lick the sauce off the tip. Then, you almost give the guy a heart attack when you go back in with your wet thumb and wipe the remnants of the sauce on the corner of his mouth.
His pizza flops in his hand and something else rises in his pants as you pull back, sitting reasonably closer than you did before, resting your head on his shoulder, continuing to watch the movie. It’s hard for him to even focus on the TV with you sitting this close to him right now. He can smell your shampoo, your perfume, can feel your body heat warming him up and he’s actually going to pass out if you continue clinging to his arm like that. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat a little, hoping his boner goes down and praying you don’t see it.
Just to be on the safe side, he nonchalantly grabs a couch cushion and places it on his lap, claiming he's cold. You don’t buy it one bit but only smirk at the hidden implications. You let out a fake yawn and shift even closer to him, bringing your feet onto the couch, shifting into a lying position.
You look up at Sanzu and smile slightly. “Is this okay with you?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.
“Y-yea. It's fine. cool.” He swallows thickly and turns to look back at the TV.
The cushion gets in the way and you click your tongue, sitting upright and almost bashing him in the jaw with your head. You toss the cushion away and Sanzu's about to protest before you lay back down, your head only inches away from his crotch. His erection was going down slowly but now it might as well sprung back up.
“Oh wait a second,” you said, sitting upright and Sanzu almost panicked when you pointed down at his crotch. “You okay?”
“I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it's fine,” you laugh. “These things are uncontrollable, I know.” Sanzu sighs in relief. “Do you need any help?” you ask and he blinks at you.
“What?”
“Nevermind,” you clear your throat. “That was a dumb question.”
“No wait!” he says abruptly, making you jump. “I mean, yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“Really?” you perk up a little.
“Yeah I guess.”
You move to sit next to him, your head only inches away from his. “This is gonna sound a bit creepy but,” your eyes drop to his lips, “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you say absentmindedly, distracted as you ran your finger over his scars. “Thought you were so pretty.”
“Pretty…?”
“Yeah, you’re really pretty Sanzu.”
He bites his lip, fighting the urge to look away from your intense eyes in the dark. You’re leaning in closer and his eyes close and then he feels your lips pressing against his. It starts off with short pecks that linger a little too long before you're actively moving your lips against his. Your hand cups his face and you pull him closer, sucking on his lips and entering your tongue into his mouth. He moans softly when your fingers find their way to his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.
You pull away and plaster kisses to his neck, gently pushing him down onto the couch, your body basically straddling him as you kiss down his throat.
His body feels hot and he can't focus anywhere but your lips going down his body. Your fingers grab the seam of his shirt and your lips tickle against his skin as you mutter, “Take this off.”
He obediently does as he’s told and lifts his arms up as you help him remove the shirt. You toss it on the other couch and sit upright to examine his chest. His abs were faint but visibly and you bit your lip, running your finger along his chest.
He stares up at you as you look distracted at the sight of his bare chest. You make eye contact and smirk a little before lifting your shirt up and over your head. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in your bra. You go back down and kiss down his stomach, fingers moving to unzip his jeans and pull them down.
“Wait wait wait!” You freeze and look up at the boy in front of you, tilting your head in confusion. He swallows thickly. “I haven't…done this before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“Shocking, I know.”
“Oh. It really is. I thought girls would be all over a guy like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I said before, you’re really pretty Sanzu.” He instantly looks away and you laugh. “You’re shyer than I expected Sanzu. At the party you were really loud and stuff, I didn't expect this. It’s cute.”
“I’m not shy.”
“You said less than 100 words to me tonight and we’ve been hanging out for almost four hours.”
“...”
You laugh and sit upright, leaning back in to kiss him. “Do you still want me to…” Your fingers trail down his body, rubbing the outline of his cock in his briefs.
“If you want to.”
“I obviously do, that's why I'm asking you.”
“Sure then.”
You give him one last kiss before settling back between his lips. His cock has never felt more sensitive than in this moment when your fingers wrap around his cock, pulling it free from his boxers. It stands tall against your face and you lick the tip, not ceasing eye contact. He feels obligated to watch you suck his cock and desperately wants to look away because he knows he will bust in less than ten seconds if you keep staring at him like that.
You take him in your mouth and he moans so loudly, the sound soft and heavenly. You smile around him and begin to suction your cheeks as you take him lower. Your tongue swirled around his shaft every time you bobbed. He was throbbing inside you, your heavy eye contact and warm mouth making him grow harder.
He finally broke the eye contact to throw his head back, a long groan of “fuccccckkkkkkk,” leaving his mouth as he placed his hand on your head, bobbing you up and down. You moaned when his hips bucked up into you.
You pull off his cock and jerk him off, his words dying in his throat when he feels your tongue lick his balls, sucking gently on them.
He sits up and holds the back of your head, his fingers digging into your scalp as he pants heavily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on pleasuring him, putting your mouth back onto his cock and taking him deeper than you did before, your fingers gently massaging his balls.
“I’m gonna—fuck, i’m coming,” he groans and without warning holds the back of your head, pressing you down and came inside your throat.
Honestly you were shocked he lasted this long. Your body felt so warm and hot hearing his pretty moans, and the sight of him with his mouth open, head thrown back was something you’d never forget. His grip on your head ceased and you pulled off his cock, eyes teary and watery and mouth full of cum.
“Oh shit,” he mutters, watching you take a minute before swallowing. His dick twitches again. Without thinking, his thumb comes up to the corner of your lip and wipes a stray drop of cum. Before he can remove his thumb, your head turns and you suck the tip of it. “You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t you,” he groans and you giggle around his thumb.
“Are you a virgin too if you’d never gotten head before?”
He nods shamefully and you can’t help but kiss him again. “Want me to take it?” you ask, forehead resting against his.
He blinks at you before not-so-subtly dropping his eyes down to your cleavage. “yeah.”
You grin and push him back down onto his back, slipping off the couch. He watches you strip down naked, your bra and panties are tossed to the opposite couch. Thanks to the help of the tv, your body is still a shadow but the outline of your body makes him instantly hard again. You climb back on top of him.
His hands migrate to your hips, and with absolutely zero confidence with what he’s doing, his hand slides towards your clit and you gasp when his thumb snakes its way to your folds. “You’re really wet.”
You squirm, slightly embarrassed but bite your lip, amusement in your voice as you say, “Yeah…that’s supposed to happen.”
“I know that,” he grumbles, still rubbing your clit in circles, wetting his fingers with your arousal. “I’m not an idiot.”
He pulls his hand away and you grab his wrist, guiding his finger into his mouth, watching him suck your juices off his fingers. “God that’s hot,” you pull his fingers out and lean back down to kiss him.
“I'm going to get condoms,” you say against his lips before pulling away. He nods and watches you head down the hallway when his phone buzzes.
rindou: we found osanai so we’re heading back right now
sanzu: hell no just go home
rindou: ???? walk home then tf
sanzu: don't think that's an issue honestly think i might be sleeping over if you know what i mean ;)
rindou: what? you’re getting laid? YEAH RIGHT
sanzu: IM NOT LYING
rindou: i never once ever in my entire life found you funny but you’re telling some good jokes right now
sanzu: 1) im always funny, 2) im serious. i would send you proof but then you’d see my dick and thats gross
rindou: would rather bleach my eyeballs honestly. you could barely look this girl in the eye and you really expect me to believe you’re fucking her?
“I’m back!” you call out making sanzu jump. “What’re you doing on your phone?” you ask, snatching it from his hands and reading the messages.
It’s a miracle it’s dark right now because Sanzu doesn’t know what he’ll do if you saw him blushing from embarrassment right now.
“He’s fucking rude. Why doesn’t he believe you?” you huff, handing him his phone back before your face lights up. “Wanna show him?”
“Show him what…” He hopes you’re not heading in the direction you’re so obviously going.
“You know what I mean, c’mere.” You sit back against the couch and pull up the camera app on his phone. You hold the phone out in front of you, “Stick your tongue out.”
He does so and you stick yours out also, just barely grazing his as you snap a bunch of pictures. You take a couple more in different poses, putting your lips in a kissy face and kissing his cheek, his lips and resting your forehead against his as you smile at the camera.
You sit upright and scroll through the photos, smiling at each of them. “Send these to me after yeah.” You toss the phone behind you and rip open the condom. You reach behind you and slip it easily down his shaft before aligning it with your pussy. “Ready?”
“Yeah…” The tip nudges your clit before slipping inside, warm heat instantly engulfing the tip of his cock and his mouth falls open, panting breathily as you continue sinking downwards, watching the pleasured look on your face as your pussy squelches trying to accommodate his entire length.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper, fixing your hands onto his chest for support. You bounce experimentally, ripping another moan from your throat it sinks you a little lower.
“Shit, shit—wait,” He digs his nails into the fat of your ass cushioned against his thighs.
“Sanzu,” you moan, collapsing down onto his chest, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He can hear your breathy pants beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
“You feel so fucking good,” He huffs against your ear and you sit upright, pushing your arms behind you to his knees and start swiveling your hips in circles that turn to full on bouncing on his cock.
His eyes are focused on your tits that swing in motion with your movements and he can’t help but lift you up and down on his cock. “Fuck,” He gropes and squeezes your cheeks as you whimper, clenching around his cock with every bounce.
“Touch me please,” you whimper, looking down at him, grabbing one of his hands and bringing them up to your tits. He squeezes it and runs his thumb along your nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body, giving you more motivation to continue bouncing.
“Wait, slow down— oh fuck.” His body was tense, and you were sure he was leaving fingernail shaped dent marks on your hip with how tight his grip was. His cock felt so good, having a slight tilt to it that hit that spot no other guy had been able to reach. You couldn’t stop bouncing, his words falling on deaf ears.
“Wait wait wait stop,” he gasped, his grip getting tighter, bringing you to a stop. Wasting no time, you lean back down and begin kissing along his jaw as he catches his breath, impatiently wiggling your hips just to feel something. “I just came,” he admitted.
You froze and shot up, looking down at him. “For real?” he nodded, wiping a shameful hand over his face. “That's so cute,” you giggle and kiss him.
You lifted yourself up and off his cock and laid down on top of him. “Did you like it?” you ask, tracing your finger along his chest.
“Yeah, it felt so good.”
“Yay,” you smiled bashfully.
“You didn’t finish though.”
“Eh it's not a big deal. I wanted to make you feel good.”
“Still though…” he mutters, pouting at the fact he didn’t make you feel as good as he felt.
His phone buzzed and he sat upright to grab it.
rindou: having fun loverboy??? u busy humping her pillow to text me back? asshole
Sanzu scoffs and you lean your head against his shoulder and read the messages. “Send him the photos.”
He turns to look at you, your lips almost brushing against his in the process. “You sure? You’re kinda naked in them.”
“I don't really care. It’s just a boob. You can crop it out if you’re that worried.”
“Okay…” He crops your chest out of the photo and stares down at the photos once more. He's never deleting these. He sends three different photos to Rindou, not even bothering to caption them and turns his phone off, waiting for his response.
“Oh wait! Gimme your phone!” You hold your hand out as he hands it to you.
“What’re you doing?”
“Adding my number,” you hum and add your number to his contacts, adding a heart after his name. You’re never usually this forward, but you knew you wanted Sanzu from the moment you saw him, and you weren’t going to let him slip away. “Call me when you get home. okay?” Your forehead brushes against his and your eyes dart down to his lips, fighting the urge to kiss them.
“Okay.”
You give into temptation and kiss him slowly. Your thumbs traced along his jawline as you hum, almost lazily enticing your tongue with his. His hands ran teasingly along your body, cupping your ass and pulling you back on top of him.
The doorbell rang and you sat upright, cursing under your breath. “I’ll get it.” You press one more kiss to his lips and slip off the couch to re-dress. Your shirt was backwards and your pants were inside out, but you didn’t care as you answered the door with a cheery, “yes?”
Kakucho rubbed his forehead with a world heavy sigh and you instantly felt all colour drain from your face. He was with Rindou and probably saw the photos. “How can I help you Kaku?”
“Just…just tell Sanzu to come on, let’s go.”
Sanzu appears behind you,redressed, and gives you a hug goodbye, his arms lingering around your form for much longer than Kakucho considered friendly. You pull away and whisper in his ear for him to call you when he gets home. He nods and you plant another kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Sanzu is about to deepen the kiss before Kakucho grabs him by the back of his shirt and tugs him out of your apartment.
Game over
GAME ON - part 1
STILL PLAYING? - part 2
Summary: It is a known rule that your best friend’s sister is off limits. Too bad Vi doesn’t care about this rule, nor about the consequences that will come with it.
Warnings: modern!vi, bbf!vi, cursing, dirty talk, smut, dom!vi, sub!reader, vi is kinda rough, tit play, thigh riding, vi is a piece of ish? MDNI!
A/N: Let’s pretend Jayce is still in his 20s. Reblogs and commesnts are always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
She is as much of a piece of shit as I am.
Those words kept appearing in your head ever since Jayce came in your room to ask you about Vi. You didn’t quite understand his reasoning for the sudden interest in your life, since he never cared enough to give you any kind of advice until… you started messing with his best friend. The timing was truly strange. Did he finally start caring about you in his wierd way? Or his intrusion was because he figured what was going on and he needed some kind of confirmation?
You have tried so hard to avoid thinking about your conversation, abour eveything that was said that day… but you simply could not ignore the feeling that something was going on. By comparing Vi with him, he was definately hinting at something… something you’d wish you didn’t know. He treated his lovers poorly by not communicating exactly what he actually wanted. He got in relationships when he still had feelings for an ex.
He was not a good guy, and definately not the type of person that just gives out advice out of nowhere, and not to you out of all people. Ever since you were little, you two didn’t talk much, nor get along, nor care that much about one another. You had different interests, different hobbies, and even your parents realized how less their kids had in common, so they stopped trying to make you like each other since it was a waste of time.
And you were fine with it.
You’d have some fights here and there, you’d say something, he would say something, you even expected some of his friends to throw insults at you or even talk poorly about you. But you have never heard them theow a bad comment in your direction. He would probably deny, but Jayce never allowed anyone else to treat you with disrespect. He did it because he was your brother, but when it came to his friends doing it… he wouldn’t allow it. But since this was about Vi, his approach was different.
You never thought you’d have to do this, but there were so many unanswered questions that only Jayce could answer unfortunately. You couldn’t really ask Vi about her plans with you, since you just hooked up two times. She didn’t really owe you anything, but you’d prefer her not to play any games or use you in any kind of way, and Jayce’s words hinted just that.
You were aware there was only a physical attraction between you two and you were fine with it for now, but somehow hoped that in the future these hook ups would turn into something more, maybe actual dates where you’d talk more, where you’d know each other better. Vi was a charming girl and you knew she’d soon make her way towards your heart. But you didn’t know if you should allow this or not.
With a deep sigh, you stood up from the bed, as you had postponed this discussion with Jayce as much as you could, but the desire to find out more ate you alive as the seconds passed. You went straight to his door, your footsteps heavy and slow on the carpet. The hallway felt endless as you walked, your heart thumping in your chest since you were worried about what you’re gonna find out.
When you finally reached his door, you stopped in front of it and took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You were afraid to not start a fight since the subject of your discussion wasn’t the best. You hoped he wouldn’t be mad at you, but he had all the reasons since one: you lied to him when he first asked, and two: it was Vi of all people.
You decided it was time to just do something, since you were wasting time and overthinking, when the answers were just few seconds away. You bought your hand up and finally found the courage to knock on the wooden surface, landing two knocks, then stepping back and waiting. After a few seconds, you heard a muffled ‘come in’ from the other side. You closed your eyes for a bit, trying to seem more composed, then you reached for the door knob, twisting it.
You opened the door wide, revealing Jayce’s room. Only the blue leds offered light to the space, creating a overall nice ambiance. The walls still had the same old science posters on them, some rock bands, some pictures… the bed was still on the right side and his desk, which had all the gaming setup, was in front of the bed, right next to the door.
Your eyes landed on his figure as he finally spoke.
“It took you long enough” he chuckled as he took off his gaming headphones, placing them on the desk. He looked at you with amusement, making you frown since you didn’t expect such a jovial attitude from him, but it helped you to calm down a bit.
“You… you were waiting for me?” You questioned as you closed the door behind you.
“Yeah, but I kinda lost hope on the way” he joked as he shook his head.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” You asked with caution, not understanding what was going on. “I suppose you know why I am here”
“I know, I know. It’s a complicated situation… anger will only make things worse” he replied, taking you by suprise.
“Wow, that’s very mature of you. Who are you and were is my brother?” you joked and he chuckled again. “You sure aren’t mad that I lied to you?” You pushed the matter again and he rolled his eyes this time.
“No, I am not. Look, I know we don’t have the best brother-sister relationship, but I am not that dense. I know when to be calm and understand each person’s reasoning behind their actions. For you it was best to lie, since the truth wasn’t the good option in that moment” he explianed as he stood up from his chair and signaled you to come sit on the bed next to him.
“Well… thank you for understanding” that was all you could say since you were taken aback by this behavior. It wasn’t like you didn’t like it more, but you weren’t too familiar with this side of Jayce. “Didn’t expect you to be so nice to me” you smiled as you took a seat bised him.
“I can be nice” he defended himself, frowning a bit as he leaned backwards on his palms.
“When your friends are not around, so very rare” you reminded him and he scoffed.
“But do you know why I am mean when they are around?” he asked and you shook your head in disapproval. You didn’t even think it was a certain reason for his actions.
“To avoid these kinds of situations… if they always see us fight, they understand to not get involved with you since you seem difficult to deal with. They’ll leave you alone and you won’t get hurt. I know it’s not the best tactic, but it worked… until now at least.” He shurgged as he looked down at the carpet.
“I know I don’t have the best people around me so I want to protect you. It’s questionable what I am doing, but I’d try everything to not see you hurt. If it’s me who hurts you, it’s okay. The worst you can to is drop my toothbrush in the toilet as revenge… if one of them hurts you… it’s different” he further explained and you raised your brows in surpise after his confession. You never thought you would be so important to Jayce, but actually hearing him say he did all of this to protect you was heart-warming. It was also fucked up, but you were gonna deal with this later.
Your body moved on its own as you raised your hands and wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him as you felt like words could not really describe how much you appreciated Jayce’s efforts. He seemed surprised at first, but neverthless he hugged you back, his chin resting on the top of your head while his hand moved up and down your back.
“Thank you” you said after a few moments of silence. “For protecting me in your wierd way” you chuckled and he smiled at your words.
“I tried my best” he assured you as you two finally let go of the hug. “But now we have to get to the real talk” Jayce added and you sighed, knowing this moment will eventually come and you were afraid of what he was gonna say to you, but at the same time it was better to find out now when you didn’t have romatinc feelings for Vi. Better sooner than later.
“I am listening”
****
“I missed you so fucking much” Vi’s words left a sour taste in your mouth, even if her voice sounded so sweet and alluring, so full of desire.
You moaned louder when you felt her lips move down your neck, leaving wet kisses on your hot skin. She was so overwhelming and all over you as if she couldn’t get enough of you: her hands were grabbing your ass, squizzing your boobs, leaving finger prints on your thighs. Her lips were kissing any part of skin which was on display for her, marking as much as she could. And God, her scent. She smelled so good, her parfume was intoxicating your lungs, but you still inhaled it as if it was oxygen.
The cold attitude you wanted to maintain didn’t even last 2 seconds when you finally saw her. She came to your room again, messaging you before and you said yes with a plan already made in your mind. You wanted to get straight to the point and end things as soon as possible, but when Vi came and wasted no time to pull you close, you lost your senses. Your walls just dropped and you welcomed her again, letting her enjoy you how she wanted… but only for a while. If you had to suffer as well, you wanted to at least feel good one last time.
“You sure you missed m-me?” You asked as you felt her hand move under your shirt and harshly grab one of your breasts, her thump rubbing your nipple.
“Of course” Vi replied as she began sucking on your skin, making you whimper. He other hand moved under your skirt and instantly pulled your underwear to the side. Her fingertips grazed tour sticky folds and you felt her smile on your skin at how ready you were for her and she didn’t even touch you that much.
“And I think you missed me too” Violet teased, reffering to your wettness which you couldn’t deny it wasn’t because of her. “Didn’t have anyone to pleasure you while I was gone, yeah?” She asked as she began rubbing your clit, making you let out another moan.
“N-no” you bit your lip and closed your eyes.
“But even if you had, I bet they weren’t as good as me” she said proudly and made you gasp when you felt one of her ringed fingers enter you, streching you out.
“Vi! Oh my God!” you moaned her name as you wrapped your hands around her neck, pressing your chest onto hers. “Move it, please” you whimpered when you realized she wasn’t doing anything else.
She smirked at your request, but instead of giving you what you wanted, she took out her finger and bought it to her lips, licking it clean.
“Just wanted to taste you” She replied, winking when you finally looked at her.
Her hands moved down on your body, as she placed them on your hips and pushed one of her legs between yours. Her clothed thigh came in contact with your cunt and you moaned loudly at the feeling.
“Gonna make you ride my thigh, yeah baby?” Vi questioned, but it sounded more like an order and you bit your lip.
“Y-yes” you replied on a breathy voice. “Please” You begged and she smirked at your eagerness.
Her grip on your hips remained the same as she started to move you up and down her muscular thigh at a slower pace, making you whimper at the pressure that was applied in your clit. Your slick was now smeared all over her jeans, leaving a wet patch behind, but that was one of the least problematic things tonight. You couldn’t really do much else then just accept what she did to you, since she was much stronger and you felt powerless in front of her. But you didn’t need force to make her feel weak for you. You had other things up your sleeve.
As she maintained the movements on your lower region, you bought your lips to her neck, beginning kiss her skin, going up until you reached one of her pierced ears. Even if she was pleasuring you right now, you didn’t forget your true intentions. You applied one more kiss on her neck before bringing your glossed lips towards her ear, brushing them against it and whispering:
“Who’s Caitlyn?”
Ex at Christmas
violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
summary: christmas is just around the corner, and you've been invited to spend them with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.8k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥)
As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.
People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.
Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.
“I know, I know,” you laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?”
Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. 'Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”
“I've been fine, old man.”
“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company,” he chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”
“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”
Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”
You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.
Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”
A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”
Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”
“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”
Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”
“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”
Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear,” he gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”
“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”
“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.
Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”
Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”
Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”
You almost sigh as Silco brings up the party again. You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it.
“Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.
Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”
Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”
Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying,” he looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”
Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.
Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”
“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”
Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.
“What's in the box?” you ask.
Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”
Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”
“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.
There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.
You look at the box, then up at Vander, sighing. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”
Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.
You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you almost feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.
Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.
You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.
Of course you got Vi.
Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.
You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...
Well, crap.
You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.
“So, who'd you get?”
Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.
“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”
Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”
“It's a secret for a reason.”
Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating.
Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”
Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing,” he mumbles.
“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”
Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a small smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”
Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”
You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.
You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?
The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.
Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.
You push those thoughts away and force out a small scoff. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”
“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, an almost knowing smirk on his face.
Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”
From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.
“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”
Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.
You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.
“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”
Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”
“Ha ha, funny.”
Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”
Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.
You almost huff. Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.
Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.
You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.
“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet.
“Oh yes, you do.”
And they're both right about that.. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.
You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.
“Listen,” Silco suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”
“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”
If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything.
But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts.
“I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod. Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door.
“Same place, eh?’ he calls after you.
“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.
You give them both a small nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.
Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.
Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.
—
You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.
You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.
Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.
You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.
But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.
Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.
You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.
Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner.
You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.
“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.
Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”
You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.
Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.
You quickly hold the present out for him to take.
He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”
You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.
Girlfriend?
“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.
You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”
She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”
“Then you should've said no.”
“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”
You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”
Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”
You blink at her. “What do you mean?”
She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”
Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?”
“Because I didn't tell them,” she scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”
“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” you glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”
“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”
“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”
She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”
“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”
“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You’re just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”
Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”
“Don't even start. I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”
“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”
You look her right in the eye. “Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”
She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”
You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”
“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”
You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”
“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”
“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”
“Because it's fucking christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”
“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”
She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”
“You’re unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”
“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”
She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache.
She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her.
They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.
You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.
“Fine,” you mutter through clenched teeth. “You've got your damned wish.”
And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.
You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”
There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”
She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.
This is gonna be a long night.
You let out a sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.
And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe.
You would give anything to just disappear right now.
Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It’s cold out there, get your asses in here.”
You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.
She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.
Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.
You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. Almost awkward.
But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.
“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.
He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”
It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”
“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”
Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.
“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.
Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog,” he leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.
You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.
“Are you okay?”
Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.
You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”
It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.
Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.
She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat.
You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.
“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”
Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.
Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip.
“There, that's better.” She lets out a quiet breath. “Please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”
You let out a frustrated huff, looking away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”
“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”
Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.
Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?
You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.
A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.
Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”
Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”
“We're coming,” Vi calls back.
The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.
Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.
After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.
Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”
Powder lets out a huff. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.”
Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”
Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.
“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”
“We're really gonna do this?”
Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”
“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.
Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”
Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.
Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”
“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”
After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room, taking in the faces before him. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”
“That's so soft,” Powder mutters, but everyone ignores her.
Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.
You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.
He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.”
Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”
Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”
Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”
“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” she looks around the room. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.
“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”
Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” his eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”
Vander gives him a warm look in response.
Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.
He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”
“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”
Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”
Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.
“I'm thankful for…” her voice is a bit quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”
Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”
She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.
She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.
“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.
Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds.
Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.
“Like you don't swear all the time.”
“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..
“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”
Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”
“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”
Claggor lets out a little sigh, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.
Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”
Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.
Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”
They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.
Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.
Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.
Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.
They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.
Mylo lets out a curse, and Jinx giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.
“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”
They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.
Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”
Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning slightly more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.
“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”
“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.
Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.
Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.
And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.
Claggor lets out a sigh as Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does.
Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.
And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this.
It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.
Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.
Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.
Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.
Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.
The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly enough, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.
You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.
Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.
Vander lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”
Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.
Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”
“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”
Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”
Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.
“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.
Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”
“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts.
“It might as well be,” Powder counters.
Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.
Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.
Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder’s jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.
It's almost like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.
She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.
Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this almost affectionate look.
It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.
She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.
You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.
But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet.
Maybe it could work this time.
Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.
Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.
Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.
You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.
You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.
She doesn't say anything, just leans against you.
She's so close. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.
You notice her scent again, now stronger.
Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.
She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.
You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.
You just want her.
Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.
Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”
“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”
“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”
“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”
“Life gets busy, y’know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.
Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”
Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”
Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”
“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.
You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.
“Look, I-” she glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”
“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”
Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.
Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”
Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”
“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.
Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”
Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.
All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”
“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.
Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”
“Bullshit.”
Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”
“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.
That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.
The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.
Mylo tells a story about you and him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when you were twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.
At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.
There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.
You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can almost see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's almost always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.
Silco even looks slightly less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…
It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.
But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.
You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy.
You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet.
Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.
That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.
You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.
But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.
You give her a little nod, offering a small smile, and you almost swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.
She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.
Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.
Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”
You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.
Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.
Mylo grumbles under his breath. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.
Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”
Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”
“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.
“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”
Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”
“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”
Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi
“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.
Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”
“Way too many times.”
“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”
You and Vi exchange glances. “..we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.
“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”
“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”
You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-
“Of course we'll come.”
You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.
Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun,” he sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”
“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”
Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore,” he leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”
“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”
“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”
You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”
“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”
Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” he sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”
“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”
Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”
Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”
“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.
Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”
Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.
“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander mutters under his breath.
“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.
He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”
Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”
“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, while Silco chuckles.
“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”
Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.
Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.
“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."
There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.
“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”
Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”
Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”
The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.
“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”
There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.
Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”
“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.
and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.
You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.
“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.
Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, almost like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.
You get the hint, shaking your head a little and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.
You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.
She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.
She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.
You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things. The light must be playing tricks.
She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”
“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say, turning away as you start to roll up your sleeves.
You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.
Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.
Why is she so fit?
You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.
The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.
You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....
Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands.
“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.
You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?
Instead, she asks something completely left-field.
“Do you ever think about us?”
You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.
How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?
What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?
‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.
Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..
You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.
Yeah, you thought about her a lot.
But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.
“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”
You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her quiet mind.
She's quiet for a moment, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.
After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.
The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.
“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.
She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.
She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”
Damn it. Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you.
You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”
Anything, anything other than “I do.”
She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?
“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.
“Why do you think so?”
You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.
Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.
Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”
You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.
“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.
You're both quiet for a few minutes after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.
A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.
You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.
You don't know which one would be worse.
It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.
Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.
It's maddening.
The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”
You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.
“Yeah, we're done,” Vi mutters, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.
You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.”
Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.
“That sounds like her,” she says with a chuckle, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.
“Guest we should head out there then,” you murmur, trying to get her to actually look at you.
She hesitates for a second, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.
Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”
You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.
—
“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”
Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”
“Only because you're taking up too much space.”
Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”
A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.
Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”
A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”
Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”
Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.
She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco.
She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs.
Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.
After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.
He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.
He looks back at the box and, with a little nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.
She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”
Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a little shark plushie?”
Powder nods, her grin getting wider, still very pleased with herself. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”
Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles a little.
“I adore it.”
Her grin somehow widens even more. She's clearly happy with herself. Silco chuckles a little under his breath, then looks around. “Who's next?”
Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.
“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.
Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.
A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.
Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.
Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.
Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...
..and then he groans, covering his face.
“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look.
“Dude, seriously?”
“What?”
Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”
Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”
“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”
“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”
Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”
Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”
Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”
Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.
Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.
He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group, taking in everyone's expressions. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.
Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.
Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.
Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.
Silco simply shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now a little intrigued.
Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.
Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.
Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing.
He then looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.
Silco's smile widens even more. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.
Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.
It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.
Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.
Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.
Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.
…and she's right.
“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”
“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.
Silco just nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”
“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.
Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”
Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.
Vander sighs again, looking down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there.
He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.
Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee, looking all too pleased with himself. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”
Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.
“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”
Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.
But Powder’s not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”
Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.'
“No,” he replies through gritted teeth.
Even Silco is starting to look amused.
“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”
Vander lets out another long, suffering sigh.
He shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something under his breath as he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.
Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.
Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.
Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”
It takes a few minutes, but eventually the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this.
His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.
Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.
Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined,” he comments.
Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”
Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.
Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.
Vander turns his glare on her, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.
Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures,” she wheezes, holding up her phone.
Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.
Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”
“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”
“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”
Vander turns his glare to Silco, his expression almost murderous. “There's no way in hell—”
“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.
Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist.
He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”
Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone.
“Stand up straighter.”
Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.
“Say cheese,” she grins.
Vander grumbles under his breath, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.
Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.
Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down.
“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.
They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.
“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.
Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”
Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she mutters under her breath, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.
Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”
Claggor lets out a defeated sigh. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”
“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”
“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.
Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience,” he grumbles. “Anyway, my secret santa is…”
Vander sighs, looking like he's already regretting this. Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.
“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” they reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them. “My very special secret Santa is…”
Claggor covers his face with his hands, looking like he's praying.
Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.
“My secret Santa... is Powder!”
“Fuck!” she groans, burying her head in her hands.
“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.
Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.
Mylo grins, clearly getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” Mylo teases, shaking the present in her direction.
Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”
“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”
Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.
Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?” she mutters, looking like she's already fed up with whatever shenanigans Mylo has come up with.
“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”
Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect.
“Please tell me this is not what I think it is,” she mutters, looking like she's two seconds away from throwing the entire box at Mylo's head.
The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.
“You did not get me what I think you got me.”
“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.
Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.
Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”
Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.
“You're telling me,” Powder hisses through clenched teeth, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”
“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking entirely too smug for his own good.
Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”
Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”
“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”
“I can't wait to make you eat that box,” she mutters, her hands clenching into fists.
“Oh, I'm so scared.”
Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”
“I was just having fun.”
“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”
“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.
Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.
“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, sounding exasperated.
The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.
Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor, looking very pleased with himself.
The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.
Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.
Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess,” he mutters. He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap.
“This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.
Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a soft smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.
Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.
“Just like you requested,” Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.
“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.
Vander smiles, clearly pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”
“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”
Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.”
Vander looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?” he asks, eyeing everyone lazily.
Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”
“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.
Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking a little bit like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.
She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you,” she mutters, looking a little tense.
You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi,” you say, looking up at her.
“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice sounding a bit strained.
Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.
“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.
You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the festive wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.
Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.
She's watching you intently, her expression almost anxious. It's a look you don't often see on her face, and it's a little startling.
Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.
There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.
You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.
Vi is still watching you intently, her eyes fixed on the necklace. She shifts a little on her feet, looking like she's holding her breath.
“Do you like it?”
You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond, your voice just a little bit shaky. “It's beautiful.”
You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.
It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.
You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you,” she says, her voice lower than usual.
“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.
Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.
Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”
“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.
“Ah, young love,” Silco says.
Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”
“Don't you mean your younger hookups?” Silco shoots back.
Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”
Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?” he asks, looking at everyone present.
You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”
You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.
This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze.
You walk over to her, your heart beating a little faster. You feel a little bit nervous, but you try to push it down.
You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.”
Vi's expression softens a bit, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.
You watch silently as she unwraps the gift.
Vi looks at it, her eyebrows raised. “Is this... a sweater?” she asks, a little bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.
“I made it myself,”
“You made it?” she asks. “Like, with your own two hands?”
“Obviously..”
“I mean... it's…” she starts, her voice trailing off as she tries to find the right words.
“It's hideous?” you suggest.
She winces a little, looking like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…” she mutters.
“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”
“I can tell.”
“Then, try it on.”
Vi hesitates for a moment, looking at you a little warily. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you nudge her. “Just try it on, for me.”
She sighs, clearly realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”
She pulls it over her head, struggling a bit to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is a little awkward, and the sweater seems a little too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?
She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?”
You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”
“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”
“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”
“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking christmas tree,” she groans, tugging at the sleeves yet again.
“I think you look…. fine”
“That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don't know,” she mutters, sounding slightly petulant. “Something more than just 'fine’”
“Okay, okay,” you say, holding up your hands. “Let me rephrase that, you look…” you pause, scratching your chin “...very christmas-y”
“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”
“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”
“I don't,” she protests, a little flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”
Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…” he glances around at the crowd.
Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.
Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”
A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful.
You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.
She glances at you, a small smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.
Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next.
“Hey,” she says suddenly, her voice drawing your attention. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”
“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.
She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.
She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.
“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” she pauses, letting out a short sigh. “I just want to say one thing…”
“Go on,” you encourage.
“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, nervousness flitting across her features. Her gaze drops to the floor.
“Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”
Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.
You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...
What the hell do you say to that?
You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something, anything. but words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.
“Say something,” she finally says, her voice tense. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”
“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.
“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”
She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. something, anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?
You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.
“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”
But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you.
Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.
It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore.
You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side.
“Vander, I'm going to head out.”
Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue.
“Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”
You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you mutter, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.
When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a small nod.
Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.
But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you.
“Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”
You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—
“Let me walk you home.”
Her words cut through your thoughts, sharp and unexpected. You falter, your steps slowing down.
You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”
She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.
She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”
“I don't need a babysitter,” you practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”
Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she snaps. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”
You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air.
You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”
“Screw the act,” she mutters. “I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”
You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”
Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.
“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”
You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”
“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”
“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”
Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”
She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”
She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”
“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”
She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”
“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”
She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don’t know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I’d do anything to have you back.”
You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.
But you can’t let yourself fall back into this. Not when you’ve worked so hard to move on. Not when you’ve spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn’t care enough to fix things, to fight for you.
“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn’t you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”
She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”
“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”
She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”
She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”
“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”
“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”
“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”
“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”
Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.
You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.
For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.
“I hate you.”
“I don't blame you,” she pulls back a little, her hands coming up to cup your face.
She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.
“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs gently wiping away your tear.
“Damn right you do.”
You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.
For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder.
You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her. You hated the way your heart skipped a beat whenever she whispered in your ear.
Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.
You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.
If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.
If only she hadn’t walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn’t hurt you the way she had.
And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.
But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.
You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.
But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you.
Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.
—
In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.
Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.
Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.
“You're not fooling anyone.”
Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.
Silco let out a puff of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”
“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.
“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”
“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”
“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”
Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”
Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.
“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”
“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”
Vander hums in agreement. “Only time will tell.”
They watch in silence for a moment, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.
“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”
“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”
Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”
notes: idk what is happening
15. waka's girl
★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader
★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)
★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, smut in this chap... going out w a bang...
★ a/n: I never thought id be writing this... omg... but after almost a year, we are finally at the end of party monster!!!! I feel so emotional writing this up. I don't wanna spend too much time yapping, so I'll finish this a/n at the end teehee... but I spent sm time on this chapter so I hope u all like it!! enjoy the final installment of my fave ff ive ever written!
★ w.c.; 7.4k
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THE FEELING OF WETNESS on your skin roused you from your slumber. Groggily, you glanced up at the ceiling. It was higher than you remembered, a little grander. In fact, the bed you woke up in didn’t seem to have been yours at all. It was a hell of a lot bigger, and it had wine red sheets laid over it.
There was a black cat on top of your chest. He was a lightweight thing, small paws pressing into your skin while he peered down at you curiously. His eyes were yellow, almost unreal. The cat hopped off of you.
You glanced down at your arm, the one that was crossed over your stomach. There was a wet patch on the skin there, like the feline fellow had licked you.
He had a cat?
There was a body next to you, a warmth – and you felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t a dream.
Slowly, you rolled over. Wakasa was sleeping peacefully next to you, golden brown lashes fanning over his rose-dusted cheeks, lips parted ever-so-slightly. His hair was down and slightly wavy, golden rays cascading over the red satin pillowcase like a halo around his face.
You felt your heart jump at the sight.
You reached out for him, pulling the stray hairs away from his nose and his mouth. He stirred, but only slightly, easing back into a deep sleep while you traced your finger over the slopes and valleys of his pretty face.
The black cat crawled into the gap between the two of you. He sniffed at Waka’s hair – who scrunched his nose up in his sleep. Finally, he turned around, letting his silky black tail glide over Waka’s nose as he settled down into the bed between you.
Waka woke up a moment later, tired eyes blinking slowly while he appeared to be remembering yesterday’s events – just as you had. A hundred million memories were trapped within the confines of his lavender hues, blinking at you like you had just been spat out from the heavens.
“G’mornin’,” He grumbled, the faintest grin flitting over his lips despite his apparent distaste for early mornings.
“Mornin’, Waka,” His name rolled off your tongue like butter. It felt natural.
He folded the sheets down away from his face, stretching.
“So…” You began, trailing off. There was an elephant in the room. “Last night…”
Wakasa chuckled. “Not g’nna tell me you regret it again, are ‘ya?”
“No, just that I meant it,” You sighed. It felt nice to admit that to him after all this time. “The part about lovin’ you. I meant it.”
He sighed, laying his head back on the pillow and smiling at the ceiling – you think. “Good,” he replied. “I meant it, too.”
And you felt the worries melt away. Felt your eyes crease as you leaned in closer to him, brushing your lips against his in a tender kiss. Then another. He was intoxicating. It made your head spin with bliss.
You pulled away when you felt him deepen the kiss. “Nooo,” You whined. “I have morning breath.”
Waka gripped your chin, deepening the kiss anyway – a borderline nasty mix of your morning breath and his, but you didn’t even care. Your hands found their way to his shoulders instinctively.
When he broke away, that grin was still on his face.
“We still on f’tonight?” He asked.
You glanced down at your surprisingly un-naked body. You were wearing one of his tee shirts.
“Yeah,” You said after a brief pause. “I should probably go home and get into some fresh clothes.”
Waka pouted. “You’re leavin’ me?”
“You’re literally gonna see me in, like, six hours,” You retorted, sliding out of bed with a great deal of effort. Your back was completely shot.
You really ought to remember you were going on 30.
When you turned around, he was still pouting. It was a little funny, actually. Here he was, a grown ass man, pouting while you threatened to leave the warm confines of his bed. Oddly domestic, but not entirely undesirable.
You realized you could probably get used to this.
“I’ll be countin’ the seconds,'' he hummed, finally dropping his faux-angry facade in favor of snuggling into the wine-colored sheets. His cat hopped up over his legs, crawling over to him and curling up against his bare chest.
With a faint smile, Waka petted his hands over the cat’s fur. He looked up at you, offering, “Matter of fact, can I take you home?”
You thought for a moment, briefly remembering that you really didn’t have another way home. Waka had been your form of transportation last night.
You shrugged, “Alright.”
Wakasa grinned like a child on christmas morning, hopping out of bed. He jogged over to you – still remarkably shirtless, though he had the decency to have put a new pair of boxers on.
You poked a playful finger into his chest, warning him, “No funny business, you hear? You’re gonna drop me off out front. You’re not coming inside.”
“I can do that,” he chuckled rather boyishly, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Waka,” You reiterated sternly. “I mean it. You’re not coming inside. Say it, say ‘I’m not coming insi–’”
“I’m not coming inside,” he sped out. Reaching into a drawer in the bedside table, he pulled out a shirt. “Now let’s go.”
There was some odd feeling you couldn’t shake as you gazed at your reflection in your pocket mirror. You looked… good. Better than you had in ages, actually.
Your eyebags had been covered up – thanks to some trusty concealer and a vision. Your lips were painted a deep shade of red, the same color Takeomi had always told you he hated. The same could be said about your lashes, which were done up with black mascara and curled to perfection. The slightest hint of red dusted your cheeks.
You looked good.
Snapping the handheld mirror shut, you sighed. You glanced up at the wooden door in front of you. There was a wooden plaque to your left, one that was faintly illuminated by a warm light. It read; ARAGAWA.
You smoothed your hands over your black evening dress.
You were here. You were actually here.
When you opened the oak door, you were greeted by a man with a warm smile. Immediately, you caught a whiff of something distinctly expensive – perfume, steak, wine. He was wearing a well-sculpted black suit. “Good evening, Miss, Welcome to Aragawa. Do you have a reservation?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, I think…” You bit the inside of your lip. “I’m not sure what name he put it under, though. Imaushi Wakasa?”
“Miss [L/N], my apologies,” The man’s expression changed, as if the grand reveal of your reservation had caused him to warm up instantaneously. He stepped out from behind the table, gesturing to the small, carpeted set of stairs which led into the dining room. “Right this way, please. Emi will escort you to your table.”
You nodded politely, mustering an awkward smile. You stepped back, making your way down the aforementioned steps.
There was a woman waiting for you off to the side. She had a short, brown bob and a cute button nose. The neckline of the black dress she wore plunged below her breasts. Against your better judgment, you felt your eyes wander.
She bowed in greeting when she saw you, “Good evening. Please follow me.”
You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, smiling warmly as she led you further into the dining room. The place looked expensive. There was red carpet all over the floors, amber and gold art all over the walls, and lantern lights over every table. There was a bar at the side of the room. She led you past it.
The hostess stopped in front of a wooden stairway – one that led up. She turned to you and gestured to the stairs. “Right up these stairs, miss.”
“Thank you,” You bowed ever-so-slightly.
Somehow, you felt out of place at a restaurant like this.
As you made your way up the stairs, you felt your heart begin to race.
The corridor you came into was dimly lit. There were two private dining rooms, one on your right and one on your left. You turned your head both ways, searching for a sign of your date. When you looked to your left for the second time, you saw him.
He was sitting at a circular table, a menu propped up in his hands. He looked so handsome that you felt your fucking heart do a somersault.
The room was small, but it looked bougie. There was a golden Chandelier above the table. Behind the table, a large wooden shelf displayed bottles of red wine with expensive names – Sauvignon, Merlot, and so many more. A tasteful painting hung next to a set of double doors, behind which you could only assume lie the kitchen.
The wine-colored napkins were folded neatly on the table, along with a set of silverware, a fancy-looking wine glass, and an empty water glass.
You sauntered into the private dining room with your head down and your hands clasped around your clutch purse. Wakasa noticed you the moment you arrived, pretty eyes twinkling beneath the warm candle light as they flitted up to you. Immediately, his resting bitch face melted into a familiar grin.
“Long time no see, princess,” He greeted you. Before you could sit down, he stood up – and, shit, if your heart wasn’t racing before, it was now.
He was dressed to the nines tonight, something uncharacteristically nice. It should have been illegal for a white suit jacket to fit someone’s body like that, tailored curves hugging the slopes of his waist and shoulders. He wore a black dress shirt beneath – first few buttons undone, just the way you knew he normally liked to wear his shirts. The matching slack hugged his hips and fell loosely over his legs. He had a gold chain around his neck, one that glimmered beneath the romantic lighting.
And his hair – fuck – his hair was done back into a bun. A single intentional strip of hair was left out to frame his handsome face. His eyes, his lips, his cheekbones, his chiseled jaw… he was perfect.
“That dress is perfect on you,” Waka took your hand with a gentle firmness, raising it to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to the top of it. “You look stunnin’ tonight, baby.”
He stepped around you, pulling your chair out from beneath the table.
“Thanks. Not too shabby, yourself,” You felt your face flush. With a timid smile, you replied sarcastically, “You’re all dressed up tonight. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothin’. Just a date with the most beautiful woman in the world,” he answered. “Sit down. I just ordered us an appetizer.”
What a schmoozer, You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered by his comment. He always knew what to say to get you going.
You took a seat, smoothing your hands over your dress, setting your clutch on the table.
Wakasa walked around the table to sit in front of you. You noticed his glass of water was half full. He must have been waiting for me.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” You hummed quietly, tucking your hair behind your ear and reaching for the menu. “My makeup took a lot longer than I thought it would.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Love,” He dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. His eyes drank you in almost hungrily. “You look good.”
Love. You felt your cheeks warm at the nickname. It took every ounce of restraint you had to not hop the table and kiss him right then and there.
You returned your gaze to the menu in your hands. The pages were lined with fancy sounding steaks and obnoxiously high prices. You winced, though your gaze trailed over the options with a sense of yearning. Everything here looks so good.
“D’you like red wine?” He asked you suddenly. He was watching you with an earnest expression on his face, chin perched on his palm.
With a quiet hum, you nodded. “It’s a rare treat for me. Why?”
“I ordered the house wine. I heard it’s good,” He mused quietly. His eyes lingered on your neck, where you knew a dainty gold necklace was fastened.
And he smiled at you.
“Takeomi never took me out to dinner,” You blurted out nervously.
Great. Let’s talk about my ex on the first date.
Wakasa didn’t seem to mind it, though you took note of the way his lip twitched when you said his name.
“His loss,” Was all he said, licking his lips. He looked like he was going to say something else, like there was another sassy remark on the tip of his tongue, but he was interrupted by the sound of double doors opening. He glanced behind you.
When you turned around, you saw another pretty, young waitress holding a bottle of wine and a vase of… flowers. There were two more men behind her, holding two more — albeit much larger — floral arrangements.
You knitted your brows with a quiet interest. The vase she set down was a burst of color amidst the intimate ambiance. It looked like a spring arrangement — colorful lilies, dahlias, and all sorts of other flowers you didn’t know the name of.
“How pretty,” you mused quietly, raking your eyes over the vase the restaurant had so generously provided. The two larger vases were placed on either side of the table — making it so that you and Waka were framed by the pretty petals like something out of a movie.
How romantic.
The waitress popped the cork off of the wine bottle. She grabbed your empty wine glass by the stem — then, with practiced ease, she poured your wine.
“Thank you,” You nodded at the girl. You took the glass up in your hand, swishing the crimson liquid around until it sloshed around the bottom. “For everything— the flowers are nice, too.”
“I knew you would like them,” Wakasa remarked. Sitting back in his seat, he allowed the woman to pour him a glass.
She set the bottle on the table. Then, with a curt bow, she quietly excused herself.
You raised a brow at him. “You picked these?”
Wakasa mirrored your action from earlier, giving the deep-colored liquid a few swishes. “‘Course, princess,” He answered. “They’re yours.”
With wide eyes, you glanced over at one of the bigger vases. “All of this is… for me?” You asked.
“All for you, baby,” He replied.
You looked back at him with even wider eyes. You feared that if he made one more outlandish statement, they would pop right out of their sockets. “They look so expensive, Waka, I— …I don’t even know how we’re gonna get these out of here!”
“I’ll have one of my guys bring them to your house,” Waka rolled the stem of his glass between his thumb and his index finger. His lavender hues flicked up to your painted red lips. “I was gonna have ‘em sent there in the first place but, y’know… would’a ruined the surprise.”
You spared one more glance at one of the large bouquets. It was huge — weeping stems and bright flowers spilling out over the edge and towering at least two feet tall.
“Waka, this is too much…” You licked your lips, looking back at him. You almost wished you hadn’t. Fuck, it should be illegal for blondes to look that good. “I can’t accept this— I can’t repay you for-“
“You’re not repaying me for anything, Mama,” He hummed. That devilish grin of his was gonna be the death of you. “I told you I could treat you better than that bum you were fuckin’ with before. I plan on makin’ good on that promise.”
“But—“
“Let me spoil you, princess,” He added, instantaneously shutting down any argument that had formed in the back of your mind. “Can’t treat you good unless you let me, yeah?”
You sat back with a pout, though it melted into a shy grin. You felt the blush creeping in at his words — again, it took a great deal of restraint to keep from kissing him right then and there. “M’kay… thank you, Waka.”
“Anythin’ for you, Mama,” He smiled back. He reached over the table with his spare hand, taking your fingers into his grasp reassuringly.
“Now I don’t want you to worry your pretty little head about money again, okay?” He warned you rather sternly, though you could tell there was a grain of humor behind it. “You know that’s not an issue for me, and even if it was… that’s for me to worry ‘bout. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty with whatever I buy you.”
A horde of angry butterflies paraded through your stomach, your chest, leaving a trail of red blush over your face. You had to avert your gaze, pressing your thighs together beneath the table.
“Okay…” You murmured timidly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Thank you, Waka.”
Woah… so crazy how you were dripping wet, all of a sudden.
He released your hand just as the waitress returned. The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence — you basked in the warmth in your cheeks, your neck, your whole body.
“Are you two ready to order?” She asked.
You had completely forgotten about the menu. Quickly, you flipped it open, scanning the page for something that looked interesting.
“I think we’re ready,” Wakasa said. He adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. With a warm smile, he asked you, “Whad’ya gonna have, my love?”
You felt the tips of your ears burn at the nickname.
Fuck. You were going to combust.
“I’ll take the Sanda Beefsteak meal,” You told her. “Could I have that cooked medium well?” You asked.
The waitress nodded. Then, she turned to Wakasa with the same polite smile she had greeted you with. “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have the same,” He rattled off. Gently, he pulled the menu from your grasp, stacking it over his and handing it off to the girl. “Thank you,” he said.
You were melting into your seat. There was something about a man who was nice to food service workers that was just….
“We’re on a date right now,” You blurted out rather awkwardly, as if you were still attempting to process it – nevermind the flowers and the dinner and… well, everything else.
He turned to face you with an expression which could only be described as lovestruck, half lidded eyes settling over your painted lips before he answered, “We are.”
He reached for his glass again, this time holding it towards you. “Wanna make a toast?”
You reached for your own, rolling it between your pinched fingers with a pensive hum. You thought for a moment, then you giggled, “I can’t think of anything.”
Waka pouted playfully, “I’m right here.”
“Okay, okay,” You laughed. You held your glass up to the sky, translucent rim glimmering beneath the candlelight. “To the beginning of something beautiful… and… and the end of something terrible.”
He smiled, then he laughed – the melody made your heart skip a beat. “Movin’ a bit fast, ain’t we?” He asked. “Weren’t we friends, like, two days ago?”
You shrugged nonchalantly. What do I have to lose? “Says the one who likes to say “I love you” during sex.”
“Who said it back?” he mused, holding his own serving of wine towards you. He leaned over the table, eyes darkening, “You loved all of me last night, ain’t you, pretty thing?”
“I can drink to that,” You giggled.
The glasses clinked against one another and it was as if you had finally stepped into a new chapter – with him by your side. As long as you had that, you felt everything else would fall into place.
As long as you had him.
Dinner was a joyful blur. As the night unfolded, the two of you reveled in one other's company, savoring every moment. Laughter intertwined with the aroma of exquisite dishes. Time seemed to slip away as you enjoyed the many various culinary delights. It was perfect, him, the food… all of it.
Dessert had been brought out thirty minutes ago, on a cart adorned with an array of rich, sweet treats. At Waka’s request, the two of you had sampled just about everything. You indulged in the rare chance to taste such decadent flavors rather shamelessly.
You had eaten a few tarts, a piece of some chocolate cake… some other desserts, too, but you had far since lost track.
You leaned back in your chair, shamelessly holding your stomach, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “I’ve never felt so full in my life,” You confessed. Though you knew you looked tired, you were genuine in your next words, “Thank you, Waka. I mean it.”
Wakasa, with his shin perched on his hand, gazed at her lovingly. His pretty face was flushed with the faintest hue of red, as much of a testament to your wine tasting experience as the rosy stain on his lips was. After three or four glasses (maybe more), his eyes were droopy, half lidded, and shamelessly gazing into yours. He looked like he, too, had put in a great amount of effort to keep his hands off of you all night.
This very well may have been the longest the two of you had ever gone alone together in a room without kissing one another.
“‘Course, baby,” He said. His voice seemed to have dropped a pitch during the evening, suddenly rather heavy with desire. “I’m glad you enjoyed.”
Ignoring the warmth of your own reckless drinking habit, you pointed out the nearly untouched brown cake on his plate. “You barely touched your dessert.”
“‘M stuffed, baby,” Waka sighed, leaning back. “Plus, I gotta cut down on the sweets. I’m putin’ on weight.”
You knitted your brows, pouting at his admission of insecurity. You didn’t doubt that there was a lot of maintenance involved in achieving a body like his. Still, you didn’t like the thought of him feeling bad about himself.
“Why? You look perfect!” You tried to reassure him. The moment he opened his mouth to retort, you held up a finger, effectively silencing him. Him, the most dangerous man in Tokyo, if not all of Japan. “And don’t start callin’ me a liar,” You added, waving your finger around. “I think I got a good view last night. Though I could always take another look, just to make sure.”
I just said that out loud. You froze immediately, face flushed at your own admission. The moment you saw his expression shift, you regretted your choice of words.
He peered up at you through his pretty blonde lashes. “Don’t start,” he cautioned, a playful smirk on his devilishly handsome face.
Again, his effect on you was instantaneous. You felt yourself grow hot beneath the layers of pretty clothes and makeup you were wearing – hot to your core.
So, being the little shit that you were, you played into it.
“Start what?” You pouted, feigning innocence.
“Somethin’ you won’t finish,” He retorted. His eyes were dark with desire, gaze sharp.
I want him to fuck me right here, you thought. Not long after that, a brilliant idea crossed your mind.
Slowly, you kicked off your heel. You searched for the toe of his shoe, sliding your foot up his calf.
“Who says I won’t finish it?” You teased, folding your hands together in front of your lips. Your foot brushed over his knee, his thigh.
He hummed in response. “Don’t– don’t play with me,” He stuttered – actually stuttered – when you put your foot over his crotch. Immediately, you felt him twitch beneath your fleeting touch. His eyes were on you, weighted with lust. “I’ll bend you over this table in front’a everybody.”
“That just won’t do,” You feigned surprise, widening your eyes. Your tone was condescending, exaggerating every syllable that left your lips. “Stop misbehaving. This is a classy establishment.”
He leaned over the table ever-so-slightly. “You gonna make me?”
The young waitress returned at the perfect time, holding a checkbook in hand. She set the sleek black book upon the table, bowing slightly as she did so.
“Your card, sir,” She spoke politely. Then, she turned to you, doing the same respectful bow. “Thank you for dining with us tonight. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your evening.”
Without so much as another word, she was gone.
You hadn’t stopped your ministrations once in her presence, hoping the tablecloth had done a good enough job at concealing the way you were rubbing him through his slacks. He was hot and hard underneath your sole.
It’s so easy to get him riled up, you noted with the faintest smirk upon your lips.
“Say,” He remarked, flipping the checkbook open and clicking the pen against the table. Without looking at you, he scribbled down a few numbers – the tip, you assumed, because it looked steep. When he was done, he took his black card and closed the book, returning his gaze to you. “How do you feel about dessert?”
Speaking in code now, are we?
“I think…” You put a little more weight onto your foot, dropping your voice to a murmur. “I think you should bring the car ‘round front,” You leaned in. You were all but whispering into his ear by that point. “And get us the hell out of here.”
He stifled a groan. “Should I?” He grinned.
“You should,” You nodded, licking your lips. When you felt you had gotten your point across, you let your foot touch the ground, slipping effortlessly back into your shoe. “I think I wanna take my dessert to-go.”
Wakasa, caught up in the spontaneity of the moment, stood up so quickly that his chair scraped unceremoniously against the floor. His enthusiasm was palpable. “We can beat the traffic if we leave now,” he suggested with a smile – one that you knew was a disguise for his lust-ridden expression. “Like, right now.”
He dusted his hands off on his coat, walking around the round table.
“Waka, what traffic? It’s 10 PM–” You began, but your witty retort was cut short as he pulled you up by your arm.
He had all but dragged you out of the restaurant.
Wakasa had to have been doing at least 30 over the speed limit the whole way home. As he maneuvered through the streets with an unusual speed for the hour, the cityscape blurred into streaks of light. The rumbling of the engine was loud, even more so from where you were seated between his legs. He had his slacks unzipped just enough for you to get your mouth around him. With one hand on the wheel, he gripped a fistful of your hair in the other.
You went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat.
You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly that it caught you by surprise.
"Mmm, baby," he whined, glancing down with a playful smirk. "Couldn't wait 'til we got home, hm?" Gently, he pulled your hair out of your face, tucking it neatly behind your ears. Then, immediately undoing his own work, he twisted your hair around his fist and fucked your mouth.
You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs, strings of spit trailing down his cock.
He gripped your hair a little tighter. “Mmh,” he groaned, “Shi-it.”
And you just sat back and let him use you. You knew it was wrong, you knew it was fucking filthy and deplorable. You didn’t care. You loved it.
With a shudder and a moan, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck his dick.
The car swerved to the right. You felt your stomach drop. One wrong move and we could crash.
His focus shifted rapidly between the road and the dangerous display of affection unfolding beneath the dim glow of the dashboard.
He pulled you up by the roots of your hair, and you took the cue to slurp on his leaky tip. You wrapped your hands around what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, stroking, swirling, slurping – you felt like his personal whore.
The car shifted rather suddenly. You lurched to the side. Before you could remind him to keep his eyes on the road, he shoved your head down, forcing you to take him to the hilt – until your nose was pressed up against his navel, until you gagged so hard on him that your throat made a vile ‘gluck’ sound.
Only a moment later, the car began to slow down. You assumed the two of you were approaching a red light. What you hadn’t expected, however, was for the car to glide over the indentations that marked the beginning of the shoulder.
Then the car stopped.
You pulled off of him, furrowing your brows, licking your swollen lips. You struggled to catch your breath, gasping out, “Waka… Where… What happened?”
He said nothing but, instead, put the car in park. He put his chair back. Then, without so much as a kind warning, he grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up into his lap.
Immediately, he searched for your lips – pressing his against yours in a passionate, intense dance of teeth and tongue. You felt exposed like this; out in the open with nothing but some tinted windows and a few dim street lights to conceal what the two of you were doing – but not entirely opposed to it. The thought of being caught like this thrilled you.
It was rushed, it was messy, it was hot – so hot. You felt yourself burning up beneath his touch.
He smacked your ass, grunting, “Backseat, baby.”
You didn’t have to be told twice. Quickly, you climbed over him, messily stumbling over the center console and sliding into the backseat. He zipped himself up, but only for a moment, quickly throwing the door open and sliding into the backseat with you.
"You look so good t’nite," His eyes dropped to your mouth, hungry and feral. "Can’t wait any longer."
Then he pressed his lips to yours, and all of the air left your lungs. He slid his tongue against your lip, and you began to get lost in the kiss rather quickly, hands sliding up his shoulders, his neck, his chest. You straddled his waist, not even caring that the fabric of your skirt had ridden up to your waist, revealing your stark lack of underwear beneath your choice of attire.
Not that you were planning on getting lucky, of course. You know… it just… happened to work out that way.
His hand had wrapped itself around your neck when the two of you disconnected – he was being uncharacteristically rough tonight, but you didn’t have any opposition to it. Waka pressed his forehead against yours, lips hovering inches away, breath fanning over your lips.
“You’re drippin’ on me, baby,” He panted. When you looked down, you noticed that you were, in fact, dripping – having left a wet spot on his white slacks. He laughed against your lips, slightly winded, “G’nna make me fuck you on the highway. You want that?”
Yes. You wanted him. Right now, right here in the back of his expensive car.
You nodded.
“You got so wet from suckin’ me off,” He let out an airy chuckle, tired eyes peering right into the depths of your soul. Slowly, teasingly, he reached for your cunt. “No panties either, hmm? Think I’d slip right into ‘ya. Wanna try it?”
"Ngh…" You mewled. His hand around your throat was making you dizzy with desire. Still, licking your lips, you found the strength to nod.
"Dirty girl," he seethed. His thumb pressed deeper into your neck, mouth ghosting over yours. Unable to resist anymore, you rolled your hips down again… and again. He smirked against your lips, “You gonna take all of it?”
You were too shy to reply. Instead, you buried your nose in his neck, pressing hot kisses to his warm skin. The taste of his cologne lingered on your tongue. He released your neck, going for the back of your head next – taking a fistful of your hair again and pulling it taut.
You gasped, letting him pull your head back.
“I asked you a question, Mama,” He repeated himself. His tone was low, dangerous… threatening. “You gonna take it all f’me?”
“Mhm,” You whimpered, feeling him replace his large hand around your neck.
He pressed forward for another kiss, although this time there was something more passionate about it. His tongue swiftly entered your mouth, and with it came the lingering taste of chocolate cake. You welcomed it, bringing your hands up to the back of his head. His grip on your neck tightened as he tilted your head to get a better angle into your mouth. The restriction of your airway filled your mind with a blissful haze.
You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer, closer. His kisses were making you weak, dizzy with pleasure. Well, that and the fact that his grip on your trachea was unrelenting. When his fingers stopped digging into your skin, the air came rushing back to you.
You gasped again, and then one more time as he lifted you off of his lap.
“That’s right,” He growled. He fiddled with the zipper of his pants, sliding them back down, past his hips. Thanks to you, he didn’t have any boxers to push aside – or any need for lubricant, for that matter.
You tried your best to feel shame at the prospect of being on the side of the literal highway where anyone could see you. (Tinted windows. Something you had forgotten about.) But there was little room for doubt when he positioned his tip at your entrance and then promptly slid into you.
“Fuck!” You cried out, fingernails digging into his pale shoulders.
"You got it, baby," He growled against your lips. This was wrong. Very wrong. But the moment his tip bumped your cervix, you threw your morals out the window.
You whined, moving your hips against his. He was right there, right where he needed to be, and the blissful slide of his dick against your wet walls made your vision go white at the edges.
"No panties under that dress – achin’ to be fucked right where everyone can see you. So filthy, hm?” He immediately picked up the pace, gripping your hips to lift and slam you down on his cock. The quiet groan of 'shit' that left his lips when your hips began to meet him halfway was anything but holy. "My dirty girl."
"I'm not--" Your sentence broke off into a long, drawn out moan as he slid back inside of you. "Fu-uck. Harder!”
"Harder, baby?" He teased before swiftly pulling out of you. He brought your skirt up higher around your waist. You felt exposed and -- quite frankly -- a little nervous. Just past the rearview window, you could see the cars flying by. Then you looked back at him, and you melted a bit.
He eyed you up almost animalistically. If you didn't know any better, you would say he looked like he wanted to fucking eat you up.
He thrust his hips up sharply, snapping against your ass – pulling you down harshly in the same motion. He sheathed himself entirely in your warmth in a way that had you screaming out for him.
You cried out, feeling the table jolt with the force of his sudden thrust.
"Waka, baby!" You gasped out. Your nerves burned with the sudden sensation of him bottoming out. You struggled to accommodate his girth under such short notice, but, fuck, it felt good.
He spared no time with picking up a fast pace, hips snapping forcefully against your ass. You had no time to adjust to him, no. Instead, apparently, Wakasa had made it his mission to fuck you senseless.
"I love you," he moaned. It was like music to your fucking ears. "Fuck, I love you."
With the slick of your arousal already dripping down your thighs, there was little need for any excess lubricant. His hand tangled itself in your hair. The other was looped firmly around your waist.
"Be my girl," He purred, following your line of sight to the body-length mirror in the living room. You could just barely make out the devious expression sitting firmly on his usually emotionless features. He dropped down to grip your neck, pulling the upper half of your body up while keeping your lower half anchored to the table. "Please– be my girl, baby."
Then, if it were even possible, his thrusts became more forceful. The car jumped in tandem.
He bottomed out inside of you once more. At this angle, he found your sweet spot with every single thrust. His brutal speed was unrelenting. Eyes unfocused, your nails scratched at his shoulders, at his leather interior, searching desperately for something to grab onto while he piledrove you into oblivion.
“Say yes," he whimpered weakly. He attacked the side of your neck, teeth and lips tugging harshly on the sensitive skin. You clenched around him. Your reaction caused him to moan loudly against your neck. “Please, fuck, be my girl.”
"Yes!" you managed to get out. “I’m your girl –”
You honestly felt bad for whoever was driving by with their windows down at this point, because your moans had become a lot more similar to screams in lieu of recent events (recent events, of course, being Wakasa’s goal of ruining your chances of walking tomorrow).
He let out a pleased groan at your willingness to let him abuse the everloving shit out of your pussy. "My girl," he hummed. "My girl, only mine– fuck– I love you."
You were his girl. You had always been his girl, right from the start.
His hips stuttered. "Say it back," he growled.
You couldn't take it anymore. The pleasure was far too much to bear. It was making your mind go blank.
You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist him. You raked your eyes up his shirtless form in the mirror, watching as his mouth parted to release a few shaky breaths. His legs shook against the back of your own. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.
Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.
"Yes! Yes!" You gasped out as he landed another smack on your thigh. "I’m your girl, fuck– yes!" His eyes met yours in a lustful daze. “Love you, Waka–”
His.
You had always been that, hadn't you? You'd simply been too blind to see it.
"Mine," He growled back in response. "No one else's."
You were getting closer now. The coil in your stomach was pulled as tight as it could go. "Mmh- yours! P-Please!"
You hadn’t cum this fast in… well, actually, maybe not. He seemed to have that effect on you.
"Cummin’" Waka shuddered. “Cummin’, baby, shit–”
The coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm.
"Fuck, baby, ‘m--" You cried out. This one hit you even harder than before, wave after wave of powerful pleasure shooting through you at the speed of light – back arching as he spilled into you.
He went for your lips again immediately after, kissing you softly while the two of you came down from your high. He kissed you breathlessly, passionately, like he would die if he stopped.
“You wanna come back to mine?” He asked. His forehead pressed against your own, his eyes glimmering with a slight hint of mischief. Above all else, though, they held promises of safety.“I can make us some dinner. I don’t want you walking home high at night, not in this neighborhood.”
“What a gentleman,” you mused. Sarcastically, of course, but not really.
“I can be whatever you want me to be tonight, dollface.” Wakasa grinned ear to ear, pressing another kiss to your sore lips. “Just say the word.”
You pulled away from him with a breathless laugh. “We did it in your backseat the first time we hooked up, too, didn’t we?”
“Mhm,” He hummed, melting back into the seat.
His cum was still warm inside of you, spilling down his dick, your thighs, his lap. You kissed him again. “And now you’re my boyfriend.”
He laughed quietly, “Bad timing?”
“A bit,” You smiled. You pulled back, drinking in the sight of him like this – blond hair wild and messy, lips swollen and parted, face dusted with a rosy hue. His lilac irises were locked onto yours like you had just fallen out of the sky. Like he worshiped you.
Then you squealed, grinning ear to ear, “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Boyfriend makes it sound like we’re highschool sweethearts, or somethin’,” He chuckled. He wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. Pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of your neck, he added, “You can tell all your friends that the White Leopard’s y’er man.”
“You’re my man,” You repeated. The grin on your face was bright enough to power an entire city.
He replied, “You’re my girl, yeah? Everyone’s g’nna know you’re Waka’s girl.”
You kissed his forehead. “Waka’s girl,” You hummed, snuggling into his chest. “That’s got a nice ring to it.”
a/n: aaaand we have a (surprisingly) happy ending!!! omg. it has been too long. party monster has been in the works for a little under a year now. I hope u dont mind the hiatus, I was putting off workin on this chapter because I didnt want this story to end lol.... it's been such a long road. im so grateful for every single one of u. but id like to give a special shout out to @xiedoll ... they were my first ever fan! ill never forget when u commented on my ao3, ur comments are what really inspired me to adapt this one shot into a fullfic! there are so many of you id also love to thank. @sin-and-punishment, you have been such an avid supporter! omg! so many names, I can't possibly tag them all. I actually do have a sequel plotted out for party monster, one which I may or may not publish. let me know!!! I'm gonna upload an epilogue after this, then I'm done with (book one of) party monster. thank you all for staying tuned in for my rare updates, and for being so active in the comment section. my heart goes out to each n every one of you. as always, leave your comments and thoughts below!!! let me know what you thought about the ending (for this book ;)) with love, Leo!!!
comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
I obviously do not own tr or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
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wanna join the taglist?| party monster! chapter index
Drunken
featuring. ekko x reader
happy turkey holidays 🦃
note. when reading this imagine the boom sound effect everything ekko says something unhinged. (lol)
Lights from flickering neon signs bathed the streets in hues of green and purple, casting eerie shadows along the broken walls and uneven pathways. Ekko sat perched on a ledge high above the chaos, his feet dangling lazily as if he didn’t care if he slipped and fell. He often came here to think, to escape. Tonight, though, his solitude was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was yours.
“Hey,” you greeted, your voice softer than usual but edged with something he couldn’t place. You were wrapped in the jacket he’d given you, its fabric worn but warm against the chill of Zaun’s smog-filled night.
Ekko glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable in the half-light. “What do you want?” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t welcoming either.
You frowned, hesitating for a moment before stepping closer. “I just… I wanted to see you. You’ve been distant lately.”
“Yeah? Maybe I had a reason.” He swung his legs, his sneakers catching the dim light as he stared out at the cityscape.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, your patience fraying at the edges. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong, Ekko. You’ve been shutting me out—”
“Maybe you’re the problem,” he interrupted sharply, turning to face you now. His eyes were hard, a rare thing for someone who usually carried so much warmth. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re always here, always around, like… like you think I owe you something.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. You stepped back, your breath hitching. “I’m clingy? That’s what you think of me?”
Ekko groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You confuse me, alright? You’re all over the place, acting like you care but then pulling back. I can’t—I don’t know what you want from me, and I don’t have the time to figure it out.”
Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you shrugged off the jacket he’d given you and threw it at his back. “Fine. You don’t have to figure it out. Here’s your damn jacket.” Your voice cracked, betraying the pain you tried to hide, and you turned on your heel, storming off without another word.
Ekko called after you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words had cut too deep, and you needed to get away.
The Last Drop was dimly lit, its familiar haze of smoke and alcohol making it feel both comforting and suffocating. You slumped onto a barstool, not caring about the stares you earned as you ordered the strongest drink they had. The bartender raised an eyebrow but obliged, sliding a glass toward you. The liquid burned as it went down, and that was exactly what you wanted.
By the third drink, the room felt like it was spinning, but you didn’t care. You leaned heavily on the counter, muttering to yourself about Ekko’s audacity. “Clingy? Really? I’m just supposed to—” Your drunken rant was cut short by a familiar voice.
“Y/N.” You turned, and there he was, standing near the doorway with your jacket in hand. He looked out of place here, his usual confidence tempered by something softer. Regret, maybe.
“What do you want?” you slurred, glaring at him as he approached.
Ekko didn’t answer right away. Instead, he draped the jacket over your shoulders, only for you to shrug it off. It fell to the floor, and you stared at it for a moment before looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
“You dropped this,” he said simply, picking it up again before sitting on the stool beside you.
“I didn’t drop it. I threw it at you. Big difference.” Your words were biting, but your voice wavered.
Ekko sighed, ordering a light drink and stirring the ice in the glass as he spoke. “I came to apologize, alright? I shouldn’t have said what I did back there.”
You scoffed, turning back to your drink. “Save it, Ekko. You said how you really felt. No need to sugarcoat it now.”
“You don’t get it,” he said, his tone growing more earnest. “I’ve been dealing with a lot—stress, responsibility, everything piling up. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That was wrong.”
You didn’t respond, instead taking another sip of your drink. He waited, his patience steady even as you cut him off with sharp, drunken remarks every time he tried to explain himself. Still, he didn’t leave.
Finally, you turned to him, standing unsteadily and placing yourself between his legs. Your finger jabbed at his chest, your faces inches apart. “You think… you think you can just apologize and fix everything?” you asked, your voice slurred but your expression serious.
Ekko’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hands instinctively resting on your arms to steady you. “I’m trying, I know I messed up.”
“You’re the one that’s confusing,” you muttered, your words barely coherent now. “One minute you’re pushing me away, the next you’re… you’re here, looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice low.
“Like you care,” you whispered, your hand coming up to trace the edge of his jaw. Your finger brushed his scarf, twisting it absently as you spoke. “Do you care, Ekko?”
He caught your wrist gently before your fingers could brush his lips. “Stop,” he said softly, his tone a mix of firmness and concern. “You’re drunk.”
You blinked up at him, your eyes glassy. “So? I still mean it.”
He didn’t respond right away, instead standing and slipping an arm around your waist to keep you upright. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
You stumbled against him, your legs uncooperative. “You know…” you slurred, leaning heavily into his chest, “your arms are really nice. Strong. Muscular. You should carry me.”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, but before he could protest, you jumped into his arms with surprising enthusiasm. He caught you effortlessly, sighing as he adjusted his grip. “The drunken firefly,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Drunk but still lovable,” you corrected, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you out of the bar. The night air hit your face, cool and refreshing after the stifling atmosphere inside.
Ekko’s steps were steady as he walked, his grip on you firm but gentle. “We’ll talk when you’re sober,” he said, his voice low and calm.
“Fine,” you mumbled, already half-asleep in his arms. “But you better not run away again.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city. And for the first time that night, you believed him. Let’s just hope next time he will be more open and honest about how he is feeling with you.
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The Gray Reunion
Vi x reader
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: Violence, mentions of illness, blood, slightly spicy kisses ;)
Summary: In the midst of the chaos, you struggle to help the people of the Lanes. The truth behind the disaster sparks a confrontation that will test your bonds
Note:English is not my first language, sorry
In the past few hours, your modest apartment had turned into chaos. At least a dozen people had knocked on your door seeking help, intoxicated by something you hadn’t seen in years.
They could barely fit into the small living room, which also served as your kitchen and bedroom, waiting for you to help them, coughing out toxic fumes. Everyone expected you, just as your father had done in the past, to help or offer a solution, but you were completely lost, fumbling with medical supplies that had been stored away for years.
"The gray," murmured an older woman who was holding her husband as he struggled to breathe.
"That’s impossible," you replied. "We haven’t had problems with that in years, the ventilation system..."
"Then there must be a leak," she interrupted, raising her voice before a violent cough cut her off. You watched as her hand was splattered with blood. She inhaled deeply before continuing, "I’ve been through this before, but we don’t have the years on us anymore. Your father treated it countless times. Doesn’t he have notes somewhere?"
You sighed in defeat. "I’ve lost most of Dad’s things over the years. All I have left is what you see." You placed the stethoscope on a child’s back to listen to his breathing. "There’s nothing I can do. We just have to wait for the lungs to clean themselves... and stay far from the leak."
A collective groan arose from the people packed into your small space. "And how are we supposed to do that? We live there! Where can we go?" Various complaints began to rise.
"I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. We just have to wait until they repair the leak."
"They’re not going to fix it! It’s those damn enforcers! They’re killing us to get to Jinx!" Another wave of murmurs rippled through the room.
You tried to remain calm. Could that be true? Were the people above really capable of poisoning everyone just to catch Jinx? Those above had taken so much from you already that it seemed entirely plausible. But then an image came to mind—Violet. She was in Piltover now, and she would never let this happen, not to the place that had been her home for so many years and still was yours. Right?
You continued your work, trying to calm the rebellion brewing in your living room, tending to the most severe cases of nosebleeds and eye hemorrhages. But there wasn’t much more you could do. Around three in the morning, the last person finally left.
Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, utterly defeated. Chances were, all the patients you’d seen today would return tomorrow with new symptoms. It was impossible to recover from the gray while constantly exposed to it. You knew that if it was a crack, it would take years to fix. And if it was intentional, if they were hunting Jinx... that would also take time. There was no way they’d catch her.
A knock on the door kept you from falling completely asleep. You cursed under your breath—new patients. Your father’s voice echoed in your mind, reminding you how he wouldn’t rest until he’d helped the last person who needed him. You repeated the phrase to yourself before getting up to answer the door, only to be met with a great surprise.
Vi stood there, but the most shocking thing was her outfit. She was dressed as a full-fledged officer, an enforcer. You couldn’t suppress a gasp of utter disbelief. You had spent years of your life together; you knew her story as well as your own, and never would you have imagined the possibility of her wearing something like that—not even as a joke.
"I’m truly surprised," you murmured. She scoffed in irritation. You stepped aside to let her in, and she dropped her new, heavy gloves onto your floor. You bit your lip to keep from scolding her.
The past few days had been madness: Vi’s return, the search for Jinx, and your responsibilities trying to honor your father’s legacy had left you with barely a moment to breathe.
"Lots of patients?" she asked, trying to start a conversation.
"Too many," you replied, collapsing onto the bed again. She still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "You can lie down if you want... Unless you’re scared of dirtying that pretty uniform." She let out a short laugh before lying down next to you.
"I’ve barely seen you since you came back... I don’t think I ever got to tell you how happy I am that you’re here... Despite everything."
"Yeah, I suppose the first hug you gave me said it all."
"I mean it, Vi," you said, turning to face her. "Everything got so hard, but now you’re here, and I feel like things will get better."
She smiled faintly. "Yeah, we just have to fix a few things, and everything will improve." She propped herself up to sit beside you. "You look really pretty," she added. "Those dark circles suit you."
You couldn’t help but laugh. For just a moment, all the bad things disappeared. It was just the two of you in your small apartment—no Jinx, no gray, no problems in the Lanes. Just you two. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. She froze for a moment.
"I thought you missed me," she teased.
"I did."
"That’s not a reunion kiss. This is." Without warning, she leaned over and kissed you deeply. You welcomed her eagerly—it was like a breath of fresh air, something rare where you’d grown up. The kisses grew more intense, and your hands wandered over her torso and back. Vi positioned herself on top of you, using her hand for support on your pillow. But she quickly pulled it back.
"What’s this?" she asked.
You looked to the side, confused, and saw a large bloodstain. You hadn’t even noticed it. You sighed. "I’m really sorry." You sat up slightly, but Vi didn’t move off you. You grabbed the pillow and threw it to the other side of the room. "It’s been such a complicated day with the ventilation cracks."
"Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not at my best, either."
"Doesn’t seem like it." You kissed her intensely again, and she adjusted immediately.
"When all this is over, we should go on a real date. Like dinner and all that cheesy stuff."
You laughed against her lips at her failed attempt at romance. "I just hope it’s soon."
"It will be," she declared confidently. "Once they catch Jinx, everything will get better, and life in the Lanes will change—just like Vander always wanted."
Vi’s hands slipped under your shirt as you shared another passionate kiss, but her words lingered in your mind.
"Wait, wait, no," you said, pushing her slightly so she moved off you.
"Oh, do you want to take control, doll?" she teased.
"Did you have anything to do with this?" She looked confused, so you pushed her again to sit beside you. "The gas? Was it you?"
Vi stayed silent, hesitant to answer.
"Is this some kind of joke? You’re poisoning us just to catch your sister?" you shouted, furious.
"Hey, hey, it’s not like that... I mean, yes, but not how you think."
"You bitch," you spat, jumping out of bed. "Do you even understand the damage you’ve caused?"
"Listen to me. We used the gray to clear the streets, to keep people safe," she tried to explain.
"Used? Who’s ‘we’? You and your new enforcer friends? Well, you didn’t protect anyone!" You exploded. "Do you have any idea how many people you hurt? At least fifty came here today!"
"She’s a murderer! She killed half the council, she—"
"She’s not a traitor," you cut her off sharply.
The room fell silent as you watched Vi clench her fists in anger. You’d struck a nerve.
"Did you really do this for her? Or did your new enforcer friend convince you?" you spat, unable to hide your disgust.
"Don’t call her that!" Vi’s hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, pushing you against the wall.
You stayed inches apart for what felt like ten seconds before she let go, though she didn’t step back. Her heavy breathing mixed with yours, and you could smell the perfume from her uniform—a scent impossible to find down here.
"Get out of my house," you whispered.
"You have to understand—"
"Get out!"
Vi sighed loudly, grabbed her heavy gloves from the floor, and walked to the door. You opened it for her, stepping aside. She crossed the threshold without meeting your gaze but stopped in the doorway.
"I hope your new friend is worth it." She didn’t turn around, just kept walking down the dark street, away from your home.
You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
What had you expected? Nothing had stayed the same over the years.
You locked the door before collapsing into bed. Tomorrow would be another hard day in the Lanes.
“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.
synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
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cold nights
husband!arlecchino x wife!reader wlw sfw angst
tw : angst, slight comfort, arle makes reader cry, reader is sad, arle doesnt know what to do, arle is bad at comforting but shes doing her best :(
sorry for being gone for ages, not proofread
arlecchino being a fatui harbinger meant that she would often always come home late after you, her 'dear' wife, had fell asleep. she prioritised work over everything and forget the plans you two would make. she often ends up neglecting you, it had been a while since she actually gave you affection, physically, or any words of affirmation.
more recently, arlecchino had been more distant than ever, you two barely talked or even saw each other. especially since she was always in and out the house and taking on unusual working hours. you knew her work was stressful. you understood that, but she would never take your advice to take breaks. you would usually bicker over these subjects over and over again, constantly.
even when today was your 2 year anniversary, today was no different to any other.
you woke up in the morning, alone as usual. the light rain hitting against the window reflected your state of mind. as your hold on the covers tighten, you just silently really hoped she had stayed in bed for just a while longer. not soon later, you got out of bed, the living room was cold since the heater was broken. you'd have to make a mental note to get it repaired.
knowing it was your 2 year anniversary, you had gone out and spent time to buy her a pretty silver ring and an beautiful boquet of flowers. her favourite of course, lumidouce bells. you had spent the whole day waiting for her to come home from work. you laid out your gifts for her on a table in your shared room, excited for her to come home. perhaps she was going to surprise you by pretending to forget.
but the hours passed.. seconds felt like hours.. before you knew it, it was already midnight, you were still waiting.
an gnawing feeling of disappointment and doubt was clawing at your heart. you had already cried a few times today. suddenly, you receive messages from childe. you were rather close with him. apparently, she had been seen around one of the new recruits around zapolyarny palace alot more recently. he thought it was only right to tell you.
you felt like tearing up all again. thoughts of arlecchino forgetting your 2 year anniversary and having an affair plagued your mind. you start doubting yourself as you look in the mirror. all you see are your puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks, glossy from the moonlight casted upon your shared bedroom.
you take a good look at yourself, wondering if you were ever even good enough for the infamous, unfeeling harbinger. you no longer felt like you were even relevant to her anymore.
arlecchino had already entered your home and walked into your shared room. you didnt even notice her presence especially since you so distraught. the second she walked in arlecchino noticed the gift box and bouquet of flowers.
it wasn't until she noticed then, the realisation had actually set in that it was your anniversary today. the intoxicating smell of lumidouse bells filled the air. she felt her heart heavy with guilt. her chest tighten slightly.
she saw you looking at yourself in the mirror, not noticing her. quietly she walks behind you. as she gets closer to you, she sees your teary eyes. she already knew this was all her fault. she felt remose drown out all her feelings, but she didn't show it, of course.
being too lost in your own thoughts, you didnt notice her until her arms wrapped around your waist. you was hit by the smell of her cologne. you flinched a little after being pulled out of your thoughts. you only just remembered you looked like a mess right now.
"my apologies, my dear.." she whispered lowly to you into your ear as she looks at you through the mirror.
arlecchino was warm. a warmth you hadn't felt for a while. you missed the days where she would cuddle up with you in bed, showering you with words of affirmation and just.. talk again. the thought of it made you tear up once more.
you lowered your head, pulling away from her. arlecchinos eyes narrowed with an hint of sadness. she was pained. you didn't want to be mad at her, but you both knew sorry wouldn't suffice.
"you always forget.." you whispered out. you really hoped your voice wasnt too hoarse for her to notice.
she took your hand, gently pulling you in once more. her eyes peered into yours. she could see the disappointment on your face, the puffy red eyes and your tear stained cheeks up close. she ran a hand through your hair, her gaze narrowing. she really wanted to fix things between you two, but she didn't know how to.
"i really am sorry... i got caught up in work-" she mused before getting cut off by you pulling away again from her touch. her hand that was running through your hair fell by her side immediately again. you denied her touch, she felt something stab her heart in a way she hasn't felt before. she didn't like it.
you didnt want to be angry at her. you was just disappointed that she had forgot about your anniversary. such an important date.. the day you two got married.. she had forgotten like she did all the dates you two would of planned and even adjusted to her schedule. you turned away from her.
"you say that all the time..." you replied quietly after a long pause. your voice was shaky despite how much you tried to stabilise it. you felt your throat closing up. that feeling of despair was bubbling in your stomach. you faced the balcony, away from her with your head hung low. you felt your eyes blur from the tears pooling in your eyes. you were a mess.
guilt consumed arlecchino as she watched you turn away from her, your words like a sharp dagger to her heart. she stepped closer towards you. her blackened hands firmly holding your shoulders in hopes of being able to get her words across to you.
"i mean it. please, look at me." she asked you with an subtle sigh of exhaustion.
you shook your head. you felt tears run down your cheek. you tighten your grip your clothes as your let our a breath you didn't know you was holding. arlecchino's lips pushed together subtly. she wanted to say so much, but she was never good at expressing herself. she didn't want people to know she was weak. especially not to you, she was your husband after all.
"childe told me that you have been around this new recruit for the past few weeks.. are they better than me? is that why you always come home late now?" you murmur, quietly with your voice cracking at the end.
your emotions were running wild all over the place. you were unable to control your feelings of anger and disappointment in her right now. arlecchino's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. her front cracking ever so slightly. you couldn't tell but from the inside she was getting panicky. she knows who your talking about.
unfortunately for arlecchino, she just had to work with this stupid new recruit who wouldn't get off her ass no matter how many times she had told her to. she quickly shook her head after being pulled out her thoughts.
"no. that's not it at all. i promise you." she paused, taking a moment to say the right words.
"yes, i have been working a lot more lately, but its not what you think dear." she felt her heart sink deeper the conversation dragged on.
she really hoped you didn't get the wrong idea. she should of known better. she should of just gotten rid of that shameless recruit when she didn't obey her commands to leave her alone.
your teeth gritted together at her words. it was so stupid. you felt like she was just feeding you lies just for the sake of it. you took a shaky breath.
"don't lie to me! you remembered their birthday yesterday and not our anniversary!" you raised your voice at her in anger as you turned to face her.
you could hear how held back your voice was. you didnt want to shout at her. your teary gaze met her stoic ones.
arlecchino stood there speechless, the realization sinking in. she saw the angered look on your face. she never saw it often and she hated it. her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she had indeed remembered that fatui recruit's birthday but not your anniversary. it was only because the recruit kept nagging arlecchino about it.
she shouldn't of listened to anything an pathetic, low life of an fatui recruit said. seeing you in such pain made her heart ache with guilt. she took a step closer, her expression filled with remorse.
"my dear, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to forget. i've just been so busy with work. please believe me, it's not about her-"
"i'm sure it is all about her! i know you were out late with her having dinner on her birthday! am i just a backup to you? is that all i am to you!?" you cry out. you felt your chest tighten.
arlecchino's heart clenched at your words. she was practically dragged into having dinner with her, but she had no romantic interest in the recruit. her eyes narrowed in subtle remorse and guilt.
"no, no, no. dear, your not a backup. not at all. your my priority, you know that already.."
she reached out, firmly holding your shoulders before you pushed her hands off you. she was getting more worried now, she didn't know what to do in moments like these.
"dont touch me!" you sobbed out, your voice hoarse.
"if you want to remember everything related to her and nothing about us, then fine! i dont want to see you right now!" you shouted at her. leaving the room, shutting the door with an small bang.
arlecchino took a few steps to go after you before stoping immediately. she nodded with an sigh as she processed your words. she wanted to reach out, to explain, but she knew she had hurt you deeply.
she knew she had did wrong. arlecchino was angry at herself for letting things get this bad. more sadness that she had caused you so much pain. arlecchino knew you preferred time alone to calm down. she knew it was only right to not see each other for now. she had to think of how to make everything all better. she could hear her head berating herself with insults and comments on how bad of an husband she is to you.
time ticked by slowly for arlecchino. the guilt and worry gnawed at her insides as she waited for you to come upstairs. she knew you needed time to cool down, but the silence was deafening. she replayed the argument in her head over and over, regretting every careless mistake she had made. her eyes drifted to the gifts you got her, a fresh bouquet of her favourite flowers and a pretty ring. she gently slide the ring onto her finger.
fuck you had even remembered her ring size.
arlecchino had taken you for granted, neglecting your needs and your relationship. she couldn't believe she let things get this bad. after two long, agonising hours, she couldn't bear it any longer. she walked out of your shared room and slowly made her way downstairs.
arlecchino quietly opened the living room door. she let out a shaky breath, feeling the coldness of the room. her eyes widened slightly as she saw you asleep on the couch, clutching the plushie she had gifted you not long ago in your arms. the room was dark, and she could see the gleam of fresh tears on your cheeks in the moonlight. the sight of you, alone and sleeping in the cold room broke her heart.
once again, she felt guilt rush to her heart, she knew that the heater was broken. arlecchino silently cursed herself for not being able to sustain you with the comfort and warmth you deserved.
arlecchino carefully walked closer to you, her footsteps almost inaudible. her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your shivering form and the tears rolling down your cheeks, even in your sleep. she could only imagine that your dreams were plagued by negative thoughts, likely centered around her and the argument you two earlier tonight. the despair consumed at her heart, knowing she was responsible for your tears.
gently, she knelt down beside the couch. her hand instinctively reached out to wipe the tears from your cheek, her touch feather-light. she let out a shaky breath, it really was cold here. it was only then she had realised it had been weeks since she had been this close to you. the realization of her neglect only fueled her guilt. she gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her fingers lingering on your skin longer than they should of. she felt warmth bubble within her after being away from you for a while.
she really had to make up for everything, tenfold.
arlecchino thought it was only right to start showing she did care. she was never good with her words, just her actions. carefully, she lifted you into her arms. she carried you out of the cold room. her narrowed eyes softened slightly as she looked at your tear-stained face, still asleep from exhaustion.
quietly, she stepped into your shared bedroom and gently laid you down on the soft, warm bed. ensuring not to awake you from your sleep. as she tucked you under the warm covers, her heart swelled with love and guilt. arlecchino wanted to sleep with you. hug you and whisper sweet things into your ears. make it all up to you and take your pain away.
but not just yet. she knew she had no right to be near you just yet, especially not after all the pain she has caused you the past weeks. she had to respect you and give you space, for now. she thought it was only right if she got a taste of her own medicine. to atone to her mistakes.
she left the warm shared bedroom, closing the door with a soft click. arlecchino stood in the hallway for a moment, looking at the closed bedroom door. she took a deep breath, readying herself for the cold night ahead. she slowly walked down the stairs and settled back onto the cold couch in the living room.
she felt sick for leaving you alone so often. the couch was uncomfortable and cold, but she knew the night tonight was not as cold as the nights you had to endure without her.
she would take the week off for you. she will make sure to shower you with love and apologise to you. she will make sure to make up for forgetting the anniversary.
she may not always be the most expressive, but she wants to make sure you know she cares. you were the only spark in her life and she never wanted you to blow out.
she silently promised to show you the love and care you deserved, starting from this moment forward.
tbh i only thought of this bc my radiator was broken 😭
Howl’s Moving Castle - Fan art by Julia Tveritina
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