Kiss Because of Confessed Feelings with Wakasa Imaushi
Wakasa Imaushi x Gen!Reader
Warnings: none, fluffy as hell, vv cute
Word Count: 0.6k
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Wakasa knows that your bravery is incredible. How do you protect the people you care so deeply for? He always admired you for that. That’s how it started away as admiration. He’d watch as you protected the other gang members, even if they were members you’d never met beforehand. He thought your kindness was naïve at first, but it’s something he’s grown to really like about you. Of course, you’ve grown popular because of your kindness, and you’d get quite a few admirers from it. Something that irked Wakasa to no end.
Whenever an admirer confesses their feelings, you politely reject them, and they’d feel less irked. Wanting a concrete answer as to what was happening, Wakasa went to Shinichiro for advice.
“You seriously don’t know?” Shinichiro asks his weirdly dense friend.
“No, that’s why I’m asking you,” Wakasa replies with his signature bored expression. Shinichiro gave Wakasa a look before continuing.
“Well, it seems to me,” Shinichiro starts. “That you might have a thing for Y/N.”
“Huh?” Wakasa utters, shocked.
“Yeah, I think you like them,” Shinichiro repeats. Wakasa never thought about that possibility. However, he would have to admit that you are beautiful. Maybe that is the case.
So, ever since Shinichiro helped him understand his real feelings for you, he became a small mess because of it. Any time you sat by him during meetings or you guys were paired up to do things, he was a mess. However, he’d never outwardly show it; he’d try to keep his normal composure around you. Little did he know, you are way more observant than that. You notice how he always made a point of avoiding your touch and compliments. Something he never did before.
One day, while the two of you were sitting together at a park late at night waiting for Shinichiro, you figured you should ask.
“What’s up with you lately?” you question. “You’ve been acting strange.”
“Strange?” Wakasa asks. He knows exactly what you mean, but for his own sake, he’s playing dumb.
“Yeah, you don’t talk to me as much, and you’ve been weirdly distant,” you say. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“No,” he says simply.
“No?” you repeat, wanting him to go on, but he doesn’t. “Okay, then what is it?” Wakasa doesn’t know whether he should be honest. He knows you reject pretty much everyone, so he’s sure you’ll do the same with him. He remembers how Shinichiro said it’s essential to be confident when it comes to romance. However, Shinichiro isn’t exactly known for his courting skills. But maybe it’s worth a shot.
“I like you,” he simply says.
“Huh?” You’re in complete shock.
“I have for some time now,” he admits.
“Really? I had no idea,” you try to think if you’ve seen or recollected any signs, but you come up short.
“Well, yeah, anyway,” Wakasa says, wanting to change the subject.
“I like you too,” you blurt. Wakasa’s eyes widen in surprise. This he did not expect.
“You do?” he asks.
“Yeah, I have since joining,” you tell him. “I just never said anything because I didn’t think you cared about stuff like that.”
“Well, you’re wrong about that,” he says somewhat jokingly.
“Seems so,” you agree. You reach out your hand for Wakasa, who takes it easily. He uses your hand to pull you close to him, and when your face is a few inches away from his, you kiss him without hesitation. As you kiss, you feel his fingers interlock with yours more affectionately, and his thumb rubs over your hand. The best first kiss you could ask for.
☓ kazu's 2 times longer than the other don't look at me. tw for a hostile ex on rindou's !!
ᶻz・wakasa imaushi
⠀ ⬤ meeting you is chaotic.
“oh my god shin, your nose!”
you’re quick into action, despite shinichiro and wakasa basically barging through your front door while the former cradles a probably broken nose. you grab some paper towels as quickly as you can while wakasa helps his friend to your couch, barely taking in your home despite him never stepping foot into it.
you’re talking fast, questions overlapping on your tongue before either boy can answer them, “what happened? why’d you come here?”
shinichiro groans when you press the napkins against his face far hastier than you should, taking them from your own hands and leaning his head against the back of your couch. obviously in too much pain to answer, you look to the stranger who he’s come in with.
he shrugs, popping the lollipop he was sucking on out of his mouth and nodding to shinichiro, “needed to get off the street, ‘nd he said he knew someone.”
you kick at shinichiro’s foot half heartedly, frowning, “don’t bring your stupid gang violence around my house, you know i don’t like that stuff.”
a muffled apology leaves his lips, and you sigh before moving to grab ice for the two of them. bringing back bags of peas and dropping one onto shinichiro’s stomach (he groans dramatically at the contact), then pass the other to his friend. he raises an eyebrow at you, and you nod to his bruising knuckles.
it’s then he takes them in himself, clicking his tongue, then grabbing the bag from you with a small thanks. you eye him for a second, before plopping down on the couch beside shinichiro.
“‘m (y/n), by the way.” you offer a small smile, “i babysit emma and mikey sometimes when shin is out doing nefarious things.”
“wakasa,” he hums out, sitting across from you, “i make sure shinichiro doesn’t die doing his nefarious things.”
you giggle, and shinichiro groans, “please don’t flirt with me sitting right here. i don’t think i can take much more damage- physically or mentally.”
“not my fault you brought your pretty friend here after you got socked in the face.”
“you think ’m pretty?” wakasa grins, eyes half-lidded and completely ignoring his friend's request.
“very.” you hum, leaving shinichiro to groan louder. you elbow at his side, and he dramatically topples over so he’s laying on the couch instead, “sorry shin, we’re talking.”
one glance to wakasa and he’s licking his teeth, then sending you a smile, “that we are.”
ᶻz・kazutora hanemiya
⠀ ⬤ meeting you is awkward.
“no, kazutora, put the cat food on the right side of the store - you know what, nevermind, i’ll do it.” chifuyu sighs heavily, placing the bags of dog food he’d just opened hastily on the shelf and pushing the box kazutora set beside him away with a huff.
“huh? but these are the same brands, don’t you want to keep them together?”
chifuyu closes his eyes, taking a second to breathe and remember he needs to have some semblance of patience - kazu’s only been out for a few weeks, he’s still adjusting to normal life. he sighs again and nods, “in theory, yes, but we’re keeping the cat stuff and dog stuff separate, remember?“
a small ‘oh’ leaves kazutora’s mouth, and chifuyu stands with a huff, stretching his legs then picking up the box. the bell to the door rings and both pairs of eyes find themselves wandering towards the front. chifuyu nods his head in the direction, “d’ya think you can take care of them?”
kazutora hums out a reply, waving a hand behind him as chifuyu says something something register. he knows his friend is growing increasingly agitated with having to baby him, and he doesn’t want to be any more of a burden than necessary.
he meets you at the register, and your eyes wander around the store before finally settling on the man behind the counter, offering him a smile.
“hi! um, i recently found a kitten on the street and i was wondering if you could help me get whatever i need to take care of it?”
kazutora only stares, head tilting slightly as your fingers dance across the counter. the silence goes on for longer than you’d expect, and you stand on your toes and puff out cheeks when he doesn’t immediately reply. you clear your throat.
“is um . . . is there something i need to do first?”
you look across the counter to see if maybe there’s a sign in sheet for suggestions or something, but you find nothing.
“we have cat food and litter.” he says when you meet his gaze again, still giving you the same look he did when you walked in.
“great!” you smile, looking around the store, “can you show me?”
he straightens, looking down the sea of aisles for chifuyu since he’d be much better help than him. hell, he’s still learning the difference in medications for dogs and cats and other miscellaneous animals - it would be unfair to lead you astray with a bad suggestion.
he sees no one else in the immediate vicinity, which means chifuyu has left him alone at the front of the store.
“um, yeah. yeah, i can”
right side of the store, he reminds himself. that’s where the stuff for cats is. he leads you in that direction, stopping in front of the aisles when he finds the bags he was previously shoving in the dogs section.
you lean forward, taking in each option and tap your chin with a hum, then look at him with a tilted head.
“any recommendations?”
you have to notice he has no idea what he’s doing by now, right? still, face unwavering, he picks up the bag they feed the cats they have up for adoption, “we use this for the cats here. i’m not really sure about the differences in other brands and stuff.”
you take the bag gently from his hold, then grab a similar one from the same brand that’s labeled specifically for kittens and compare the two.
“i think i’ll get this one since she’s still pretty small.” you hold up the latter and place the former back where he picked it up from, “how about litter?”
he takes you to the aisle behind the one you were previously in, gesturing awkwardly to the many different types. before you can ask if he has any suggestions, he points to one, “this is the one we use here.”
you smile. he read your mind.
with a small huff, you're grabbing that same brand and almost drop the container when you take it off the shelf - it’s much heavier than you thought. though kazutora has his own faults, he isn’t an asshole who’d just leave you to struggle. he gingerly grabs it from you, and you beam at him with a smile, “thanks.”
he only offers a curt nod, and follows you as you shop for smaller miscellaneous things - toys, treats, and a litter box all fill your hands along with the food you grabbed previously and kazutora offers no complaints when you finally make your way back to the counter.
“thanks.” you hum out again when he rounds the corner to get behind the register. he pauses for a second, staring at the computer and all its buttons and he’s genuinely lost for a second, trying to remember how chifuyu taught him to use it.
lucky for him, the man himself comes out from the back, a box in his hands and easily reading the furrow of his friends brows.
“all you have to do is ask for help,” he sighs with a click of his tongue, setting the box beside the items you’re buying. he taps a few things, explaining to kazutora again just how to do it and starts scanning the items for you, “he give you too much trouble? he’s still training-”
“he was perfectly helpful.” you smile, “i would’ve been lost otherwise.”
ᶻz・rindou haitani
⠀ ⬤ meeting you is violent.
“leave me alone-” you’re shoving past your ex with a huff, almost gasping when instead of letting you pass, he pushes you against the wall of the dingy club you’re in and grins at your clear aggravation.
“we’re not done talking,” he sighs out, “i didn’t come all the way to roppongi to get brushed to the side.” his arms are caging you in, and you want to scream to get anyone’s attention. you’re unsure if it’d even work - everyone around you seems to already be too drunk to worry about what’s going on outside their bubble, and you sure if anyone does notice, they don’t care.
“why come at all. are you stalking me now? i told you i don’t want anything to do with you-”
he stops you with a growl, eyes narrowing, “ah ah, we’re here to talk. don’t wanna make me upset, do ya?” you flinch away from him when he reaches up to cup your cheek, and someone clicking their teeth behind him makes him pause and look over his shoulder. “what, can’t you see we’re talki-”
he doesn’t get to finish his sentence. not when the man behind him rears his fist back and punches.
you pull your arms to yourself, gasping as he collapses to the floor with your eyes wide. one hit, and he’s out cold. you look up frantically to the offender, your savior, but he’s already pushing his way through the gaping crowd, leaving you to stumble behind him as he leaves the club.
“w-wait a sec!” you call out after him, and he pauses his retreat but doesn’t turn to face you. it gives you time to catch up to him, and when you’re standing in front of him, he’s scowling. despite this, he’s still pretty. you feel your face warm, and his brows raise as if he’s waiting for you to say something.
you did scream for him, after all.
“u-um, thanks,” you manage out after a moments pause, bowing your head, “thank you.” you say again more clearly. when you finally look back up at him he’s eyeing you in a way that has you wrapping your arms around yourself.
he clicks his teeth again, walking past you without a word, and you find yourself following behind like a lost puppy. he pauses again when you’re only a few steps behind him, looking over his shoulder, “if you’re gonna follow me, you might as well walk with me and talk.”
he says it like a statement, but you take it as a command. you walk for a few blocks in silence before you break it to mumble out your name.
he grins at the sound of it leaving your lips, “rindou haitani.” and it dawns on you then it was his club you were just in. apologies follow. for your ex, for not destabilizing the situation, for ruining the mood in his club, but he’s shaking his head with a hum.
“s’okay. you just gave me an excuse to leave, and i’m glad your pretty self followed.”
⠀ ⠀わかさ // BABY SITTER'S CLUB
⠀ ༝ ༝ wakasa imaushi [ft. cousin!sano's/black dragons]
⠀ ༝ ༝ 4.2k words
⠀ ༝ ༝ some drinking !
⠀ — shinichiro asks if you can babysit your younger cousin's for the night, and you get to have a late night convo with his pretty friend after.
you think you might’ve been doomed from the start.
shinichiro didn’t specify what you’d need to babysit your younger cousins for, just that he was desperate because his grandpa was out of town and none of his friends could be trusted to actually watch them. you could almost hear him falling to his knees to beg over the phone.
you like to think you’re a nice person. generous and caring, and you haven’t seen mikey or emma in a while anyways, so there was no real harm in saying yes. taking every penny from his wallet was a plus, too.
you get to their house right when he tells you, almost tackled by emma who is saying something about having a sleepover in the living room with a pillowfort in the mix the second you’ve finished slipping off your shoes, and you catch a glance of mikey pouting to his older brother while emma drags you further into the house.
“(y/n)’s gonna take good care of you guys, don’t sweat it.” shinichiro pats mikey’s head with a hum, then turns to you, “left some money on the counter for pizza or something if you want, but there’s food in the fridge too if you wanna cook. ‘m gonna be in my room for a bit before i have to leave, but i’ll prob’ly be home way after you guys are asleep.”
you offer a nod, setting your overnight bag in a corner of the living room, “s’okay, i’ll probably need a ride home tomorrow though, if that’s alright.”
“not a problem - thanks for coming, i really appreciate it-”
he’s interrupted by the front door swinging open, a man with a long scar going over one of his eyes coming in like he owns the place, with two kids running past his legs to greet your younger cousins. he drops their bags by yours, stretching and popping his back as if carrying them was the worst thing in the world before his eyes find your own wide ones, unlit cigarette between his teeth while he takes you in.
“you’re the babysitter, right? sanzu, senju, come introduce yourselves. ‘m takeomi.” he offers his hand, and he must be confused by your bewildered stare, because he takes his hand back and looks to your older cousin, “they okay shin?”
you whirl around to glare at him, completely appalled by his apologetic stare. “surprise?”
“you did not tell me i’d be watching four kids!”
shinichiro is quick for damage control, gesturing towards takeomi, “he’s gonna pay what i am, promise!”
takeomi looks surprised at this news, opening his mouth to argue, but deciding against it from the look shinichiro gives. he fishes out his wallet, counting out some money and offering it to you. you eye it, then him, then shinichiro. your cousin clears his throat, jutting his thumbs upwards as a sign for more. takeomi sputters, pulling out all the cash he has and placing it in your open hand.
“i am not a daycare.” your eyes narrow between them, pointed look enough to have shinichiro humming nervously. you shove the cash in your wallet, finally acknowledging the two new additions to your entourage.
“i’m senju! this is my brother sanzu.” the girl says, hands on her brother's shoulders as she pushes him forward.
“i’m (y/n).” you smile, and sanzu looks away from you before escaping his sister’s hold and scurrying back to mikey.
shinichiro and takeomi whisper between themselves while you and emma start gathering blankets from around the house, before shinichiro calls out, “okay, we’ll be out here for a bit! you’ll probably hear us leaving soon!”
“see ya.” you call back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you help senju put blankets on to chairs and set pillows over them to keep them in place. the door shuts, and you’re left alone with no one over the age of 10.
⠀ ⠀ ༝⠀ ⠀ ༝
shinichiro honestly expected you to come barrelling into his room far sooner than you did.
takeomi sat to his right on the couch, benkei to his left, and wakasa sat on the table in front of them. your soft knock was barely audible, but it made shinichiro pause in his talk about black dragon, turning to face it when you open it slowly and peek into the room.
“what’s up?” he asks, standing when you make your way further in.
“i just wanted to make sure sanzu and senju weren’t allergic to anything.” you look past him, to takeomi, who takes a long drag of his cigarette before shaking his head.
“not that i know of.”
“emma and mikey?” you’re looking at him now, head tilted slightly.
“nothin’.” he confirms, “you gonna make somethin’?”
“mhm.” you scan the room, eyes glossing over each of his friends, before they settle on one person for a second, then you’re turning on your heel to go back to the kids, “i’ll put some leftovers in the fridge if you want.”
he snickers, despite having no idea what could’ve had you leaving so quickly, “sounds good, thank you!”
the click of the door fills the air as you leave, and silence washes over the group before wakasa sighs.
“okay, i’ll bite. who was that.”
shinichiro turns slowly, acknowledging his friend for a second, and takeomi answers before he has a chance to open his mouth, “(y/n). babysitter of the night and thief of all the cash in my wallet.”
“they stole from you?” benkei laughs, the idea almost comedic.
“not directly,” takeomi’s eyes narrow to shinichiro, “but they are definitely making a pretty penny tonight.”
“and dealing with your monsters of siblings,” wakasa sighs out a puff of smoke, “it’s easy money well-earned.”
“think i could pay enough for ‘em to babysit me-”
takeomi gets hit in the back of the head by a shoe, jolting forward while shinichiro gathers the matching pair to slide onto his foot. “that’s enough of that, you guys ready to go or you wanna fantasize ‘bout my cousin all night?”
“cousin?” takeomi scoffs, throwing the shoe back to him. he slides it on then goes for his bike keys, “thought the attractive gene skipped over your generation.”
“more like skipped over you. we leavin’ or what?”
⠀ ⠀ ༝⠀ ⠀ ༝
you heard their bikes take off about two hours ago, finished feeding the kids right after that, and got everyone changed into their pjs in record time. babysitters around the world wish they had your skillset. it takes a bit to get them to quiet down into the fort you’ve created, but with the promise of tv and a snack before bed, they’re hooked.
it’s a surprise when the guys stumble in through the front door with the smell of alcohol following them, benkei supporting most of shinichiro’s weight with a nasty bruise on his cheek. wakasa follows behind the two of them, remnants of a bloody nose still flaked lightly under his nostril, and . . . you look between the three, making sure your headcount is accurate.
“aren’t you guys missing one?”
the men look between each other, then out the door as if he was waiting outside, then back to each other.
“oh.”
“oh?” you parrot, “the hell happened to you guys?”
“oniichan’s face is messed up.” one by one, the kids pop out from the blankets to see their siblings and friends alike. emma pouts, tugging on your arm, “he promised no more fighting (y/n), can you believe it.”
mikey almost laughs at his brother, “like he ever could, you know how he likes to pick fights.”
“where’s ‘omi?” senju rubs her eyes as a yawn slips past her lips, and sanzu nudges her shoulder.
“maybe he got arrested.”
she stiffens at the thought, suddenly very awake and pulling on your other arm, “he isn’t really is he? he’s just sayin’ that?”
your eyes narrow at the three men for riling up the kids right when you were getting them ready to sleep.
“out.” you point towards the garage door, gently pulling your arms from emma and senju and shoving wakasa by the shoulders when no one moves.
“what’d i do?” he whines out, eyes not leaving you as you grab benkei by the wrist and drag him in the same direction.
“‘s my house.” shinichiro grumbles, being pulled along by his friend.
you open the door for them and push them one by one into shinichiro’s room, ignoring the complaints from each of them while benkei gives an apologetic smile. he closes the door for you, and you’re left consoling senju while trying to get everyone back into the fort as if it will help get them to sleep faster.
and it almost works, shrek playing on the tv with sanzu’s head resting on your shoulder.
the door swings open, and each of you startle at the sudden sound, takeomi’s voice loud while he complains about being left by his dearest friends. you climb out of the fort to glare at him, and senju lets out a small omi! before you’re grabbing him by the ear and dragging him to the garage door. you push it open and all but shove him into the room, completely ignoring the whines he gives about his poor tortured ear.
“stay.” you threaten, glaring at each of them like they’re dogs who just won’t listen, and not one of them can find it in themselves to argue from the way you’re looking at them.
“‘s my house.” shinichiro grumbles again, once the door is shut and his safety is secured as you retreat.
an hour passes and takeomi sips idly on a lukewarm beer shinichiro keeps in his room, pout still very evident, while wakasa lights a cigarette. benkei breaks any leftover silence with a grumbling stomach.
“‘m kinda hungry. we never stopped at the store like we said we would.” he scratches his cheek, looking to his friends in hopes of a solution.
“(y/n) did say they made somethin’ for dinner, didn’t they?” takeomi sits up slightly from his slouched position, thinking dreamily about what you could’ve made.
“you wanna risk goin’ into the house?” wakasa takes a drag from his cigarette.
“it’s my house.” shinichiro stands, repeating that phrase for the third time in one hour. it’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself it’s okay.
it’s decided then shinichiro would go in, grab something quick, and be back in his room before you notice he’s even there. hoping time would be on his side, since it is very late, maybe you’ll be sound asleep and he won’t really need to be as sneaky as he’s planning. the plan falls apart very quickly at the seams, realizing the door that connects his room inside the house is locked from the otherside. he silently curses you, trying to turn the lock one more time in case his first attempt just wasn’t right, then sighs.
“gotta go through the front door.”
his friends watch with amused grins, wondering if maybe you’ve completely cut all contact with them until the morning, as shinichiro goes out the side door that leads to the front porch. he thanks whatever god is out there that the door is unlocked, opening so, so slowly to ensure it doesn’t make a creak, and slides into the room as quietly as possible.
quiet, until he knocks into the umbrella holder right beside the door. it falls with a clatter, and he can see you sit up slightly from your spot on the couch, hissing out a ‘shh’ while sanzu in your lap makes a noise of complaint in his sleep. he places it back as it was with a wince.
“the hell are you doin’?” you whisper scream, barely able to turn your body in fear of waking up the boy you’ve had to constantly pat to keep asleep.
“we just-”
“no. no ‘we’. if you wake up these kids, i swear-”
“okay! okay, okay, okay, you win.” he grumbles something under his breath that has your eyes narrowing at him in the dark, and he inhales sharply before going back to his friends.
attempt one : failed.
shinichiro arrives back to the gang empty handed and dejected at losing so easily.
and his friends have the audacity to laugh at him.
“an umbrella holder? shouldn’t you know that house like the back of your hand?” wakasa almost snorts, holding his stomach at the fact that something so small did him in.
“i do!” he assures, “one of the kids must’ve moved it closer to the door or something.” he explains in vain, “and i don’t see any of you guys stepping up to try.”
takeomi claps a hand on benkei’s shoulder, shaking him slightly after, “benkei’s my vote, he’s the one that brought up food in the first place.”
“i didn’t know we’d have to become ninjas to eat.” he argues, “besides, i’m the biggest here, what makes you think i’ll do any better?”
he makes a good case, but the idea of you whisper-yelling at someone twice your size almost makes shinichiro laugh. “i agree with takeomi, i think you should try.”
“i can’t believe you guys are plotting against me.” he looks to wakasa, who just shrugs and offers no help. so, with a sigh, he stands, taking the beer takeomi had been nursing, and chugs what’s left while ignoring the complaints that follow.
he goes out the same way shinichiro did, opens the door as quietly as he can, and . . . bumps into the same. fucking. umbrella holder. with the warning in mind. you whip around to glare, curses on your tongue as you take in benkei, who looks so sorry, it has the words dying on your lips. the two of you stare at each other for all of five seconds, before he’s wordlessly picking the holder back up, placing it where it was, and closing the door behind him.
attempt two : failed.
benkei returns to the group just as empty handed as his captain, just as dejected.
“couldn’t even get through the door.” he sighs, waving off the laughter that follows.
“they say anything to you?” wakasa snickers, offering benkei another beer. he takes it gratefully, chugging it easily and shaking his head.
“i kicked the umbrella holder,” louder laughter surrounds him, “didn’t even say anything. we just stared at each other and i left.”
“we’re never gonna eat at this rate.” shinichiro groans, “why is this so hard?”
“they aren’t even that scary,” takeomi hums, ear incident long forgotten, while putting out the remainder of his cigarette before standing, “i’ll show you guys how it’s done.”
takeomi is so self-assured, so confident that it doesn’t matter if he fucks up. he’s a smooth-talker, through and through. surely, if you get upset, he can just talk it out. that’s what these idiots don’t understand.
with that in mind, he takes the same route as the others. he decides, maybe their flaw is in opening the door so slowly. that must be why they keep kicking the umbrella holder. they let it sneak up on them, too worried about the wrong thing to even notice it. he pushes the door open with no regard to how loud he is, taking a step past the frame and cursing when he kicks the one thing he was meant to avoid.
it clatters across the floor, and he hears a groan from sanzu, both from the sound and from you shifting to face him.
“d-didn’t mean to-” he stutters out, and your glare hardens when he makes no attempt to keep his voice down.
“so help me god, if you do not go back to the garage right now you are going to wish you never met me.”
he audibly gulps, bowing his head while apologies fall off his lips. you throw a pillow in his direction, and he takes that as a sign to bounce, not bothering to pick up the umbrella holder like the past two attemptees.
attempt three : failed.
takeomi comes back, head still high with nothing in his hands, and the laughter that erupts is infectious.
“they threatened me! me!!” he explains desperately, “and it worked!”
shinichiro really thinks they should’ve just gone to a twenty-four hour store at this point, but each attempt seems to be funnier than the last. he turns to wakasa, who sips on a beer from the couch. he catches his eye, and shakes his head.
“nuh uh, no way am i going in there after all of that.”
“you’re the only one that hasn’t!” shinichiro argues, “and technically, you’re the one least likely to get caught! being the smallest and all . . . “ his voice trails off, and the comment has wakasa’s eyes narrowing to slits.
“i’m not even that hungry, it’s you guys who are so desperate.”
“it’s only fair you try, too.” benkei grumbles, still not over the look you gave him when he first walked in.
four of the toughest delinquents in tokyo, arguing about fairness. out of fear for their leader's younger cousin, no less. it’s laughable. wakasa grumbles profanities under his breath, almost certain this will end with you leaving shinichiro’s house with an attempted murder charge.
“fine, but if i come outta there alive, you guys owe me.”
“not if you come back empty handed.” takeomi opens another beer, plopping his ass back down on the couch, “careful, they have sanzu in their lap. that kid’ll be the reason they snap.”
wakasa takes the warning with a grain of salt, sure that the four of them bothering you is the real reason for your aggravation. with a sigh, he’s left walking to the front door and opening it quietly. you’re already glaring holes where he stands and he hasn’t even had a chance to do anything wrong.
“what could you guys possibly want so badly?” you ask through clenched teeth, and wakasa’s hands come up defensively, closing the door behind him and very aware of the umbrella holder takeomi left in the middle of the floor.
“we’re just hungry.” he assures, stepping past the couch towards the kitchen, “be in and out before you can notice.”
he stumbles slightly in his drunken state, and it has you heaving a sigh and slowly peeling yourself from under sanzu. you carefully place a blanket over him, and follow wakasa to the kitchen, finger pressed to your lips to make sure he knows to keep quiet.
wakasa is already shuffling through the fridge, hoping to find something quick and easy so he isn’t in your hair for any longer than he needs to be, but you’re pulling him back gently by his upper arm and grabbing something in a tupperware container.
“i made rice with some vegetables and beef i found in the freezer,” you say softly, and wakasa wonders for a second if you’re always soft spoken or if it’s because you’re trying your best to be quiet.
you pop the lid off and move to reheat what you made, leaning against the counter as the microwave counts down.
“what’d you guys do for you to earn that?” you nod towards him, and despite not directly saying what, wakasa knows you’re talking about his previously bloodied nose.
absentmindedly, he taps at his nostril, honestly having forgotten to even clean what blood was there. “fight.” he says dumbly, and the simplicity of it has you giggling. he thinks he really likes that sound.
he watches intently when you grab a paper towel, dampening it with the sink water, then so very gently cup his cheek to tap at the blood to clean it. if he had any shame, he knows his face would be flushed right now. instead, he grins, eyes half-lidded while he absorbs your focused expression.
“you’re awfully sweet on me, huh?” the comment has your own cheeks dusting pink, but your reply comes by you squeezing his cheek tighter.
“quit movin’, makin’ this harder than it needs to be.”
by the time you’re finished, the microwave is seconds away from going off, and you drop both the paper towel and his face in favor of making sure the timer doesn’t have a chance to sound, stopping it right at :01. wakasa finds himself missing your touch, but the thought is lost when the smell of food hits. maybe he was hungrier than he thought.
he grabs a plate for himself, piling a portion onto it and groaning when it hits his tongue.
“you made this?” he finds himself asking, despite you literally explaining the fact that you did not even five minutes ago. you hum out a reply, already in the process of getting other plates and utensils for his friends.
“‘s very good.” he grins when he’s finished, “thanks for takin’ care of me.” he eyes you lazily, grin growing bigger when he sees that the pink dusting your cheeks spreads.
“don’t mention it,” you mumble, pushing the plates and now warm food to him, “should probably take these to them before they starve.”
“let ‘em.” he says with such confidence, it has a giggle passing your lips. he wants to hear that more. he pulls himself onto the counter with such ease, it makes you wonder how drunk he really is.
“so who’d you guys fight?” you lean against the counter beside him, tapping at his knee as if his undivided attention wasn’t already fully on you.
“some idiots,” he waves dismissively, “heard from people at the bar we're inna gang and started shit talking shinichiro.”
you grin, “he take the first swing?”
he mirrors your smile, and fuck does he look pretty when he does, “damn right. got socked right after,” he taps his cheek, “everyone was fightin’ after that. benkei had to drag us out ‘fore the cops came.”
“who hit you?” you muse, head tilting slightly.
“some random that followed us outta the bar.” his grin only widens at the memory, “shoulda seen the other guy.”
“i can only imagine.” you push yourself from the counter when a head of pink hair peeks around the corner, eyes widening slightly when they meet yours before he scurries back to the living room.
wakasa’s eyes follow your movements when you leave him alone in the kitchen, in favor of going back to sanzu who can’t seem to stay asleep without your comforting touch. in his inebriated state, he finds himself following behind you. in the time it took him to make that decision, you’ve already gotten comfortable on the couch with sanzu’s head in your lap. you rub his back idly, and he catches the faintest whisper of you asking if he had another bad dream, sees the way sanzu’s head barely moves with a nod.
it’s really domestic, seeing how well you’re taking care of a kid you didn’t even know about hours before, and wakasa finds himself almost jealous of the 9 year old. what a cockblock, coming in when he was reeling you into the conversation.
instead of voicing these concerns, he finds himself clambering on the other end of the couch, feet tucked neatly under him and looking at you.
“hi,” you whisper with a small laugh, “don’t you have a delivery to make?”
he waves off the suggestion with a hum, “they shoulda came on their own - kept tellin’ horror stories ‘bout you being mean, but i think they’re just scaredy cats.”
“that so?” you muse, and sanzu shifts closer to you when wakasa leans over him to get a better look at your smile.
“mhm,” half-lidded eyes scan over you, and he can honestly forget about the boy between the two of you easily with the way you’re looking back at him, “think maybe they can’t handle you like i can.”
you offer another giggle, putting a finger against his forehead when he invades too much of sanzu’s space, “i think you should tell me this sober.”
“i’d tell you it everyday if i could.” he whispers so seriously, it has your face flushing.
“try again tomorrow.” you tap his forehead twice for emphasis, then pass a blanket his way since it’s very apparent he won’t be going back to his friends.
his friends, who are mourning the loss of him the longer he takes to come back.
shinichiro, after his dear friend wakasa hadn’t shown up in the five minutes they’d timed him for, delved into horror stories from when you were younger. how you’d been suspended from school due to your temper, picking more fights than him when someone said the wrong thing. how he’d spend some weekend nights helping you tend to bruised knuckles after you’d defended him.
and it ends with each man giving a soft prayer for their friend, who, after an hour, still hadn’t come back yet.
unbeknownst to them, wakasa had fallen asleep listening to you tell stories about your cousin. how you’d protected him in grade school because kids were assholes, but you were a bigger asshole who didn’t take that shit. and on the couch, the three of you fell asleep peacefully, while the men in garage hoped you gave wakasa a quick and painless death.
“are you done being mad at me?” wakasa raises a brow, and you’re almost inclined to throw the knife in your hand at his head—but, given that he’ll simply dodge it, and you’ll just have a ruined wall, you decide to fight the urge. he sighs when you don’t answer, pulling a chair from your dining table and seating himself as he watches you make dinner.
still enough for two, he notes, and a small spark lights up from his fingertips all the way to his heart.
“i told you it was an accident, don’t be so mad all the time,” he groans, and the glare you shoot him makes him roll his eyes.
and it’s not like he meant to forget your date, he usually always remembers. it’s one time, and wakasa can’t understand why it’s such a big deal.
“are you gonna just cry over one missed date for two days now?” he asks, irritation lacing his voice. “we could’ve gone on like three dates by now if you just stopped sulking,” he mutters, picking at his nails, and a part of you wants to scream at him, wants to throw all the dishes in the sink at him as he tries to dodge them all, but another part—a part you’re trying so hard not to show—simply wants to cry.
and you know how he is, you knew before you ever got involved with him, you know he’s not the most expressive guy—but somehow, despite it all, you just wish he’d at least look like he’s trying.
“hey,” he says seriously, eyes finally hardening with a firmness you know all too well. you don’t think you can handle this conversation right now. “enough is eno—”
“please leave,” you whisper. wakasa pauses, staring at you incredulously as you don’t even spare him a glance. he thinks it’s because you’re mad—you know it’s because if you do, the dam will break.
it’s so silly, so incredibly sensitive of you. you’ve been dating for months, the honeymoon stage is long over, but still. you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to make your eight month milestone with wakasa special—and you thought there could be the slightest chance he’d feel the same.
but he forgot. and you feel dumb. you feel like an overly sentimental fool, and even if you try and tell yourself you’re simply overreacting, you can’t help but let the hurt blossom.
and you’re sure your boyfriend will look at you like you’re a fool too—and you certainly feel like one—so the best thing to do is avoid him until the feelings fizzle out.
but wakasa seems adamant on that not happening.
“what?” he inquires, and your eyes betray you, casting themselves as traitors as they let hot tears stream down your face. you angle your body away so he can’t see, hoping he doesn’t notice, but almost instantly, there’s a presence hovering behind you. “what’s wrong? shit—okay look, i didn’t mean to forget, alright? that was on me, it just slipped my mind—kay look. don’t cry or nothing, alright?”
“just go away,” you sniffle, twisting to avoid the arms that move to wrap around your waist, and for a second, you think you’ve probably ruined everything.
he’s probably tired of your overreacting, and the thought makes you wrap your arms tightly around yourself, biting your lip as you fight the wobble.
“baby, just talk to me,” he mumbles, arms wrapping around you once more. this time, they’re a bit more determined, and they don’t let you escape. a soft kiss plants itself to the back of your neck, and you feel yourself get pulled into an sturdy chest. “what’s got you upset? the date? were you excited for that restaurant? i’ll take you right now, but don’t cry—”
“it’s not the stupid restaurant,” you sniffle, giving up and leaning your weight into him. it’s silent for a moment, and then you’re being turned, warm hands cupping your cheeks and tilting your head up to meet wakasa’s gaze. his heart breaks a little at the glassiness of your eyes.
“then what’s got you all worked up, hmm?” he asks softly, and his thumb soothes over your cheek. the words almost tumble out of your mouth, but you stop yourself—and he can sense it. “tell me,” he says simply. “i want to fix it.”
and before you can hesitate, you’re blurting out, “it was our eighth month.” you look down, not meeting his eyes. “wanted it to be special. but that’s dumb, it’s okay, i was just bei—”
“ah fuck,” he curses. “knew i was forgetting something importa—okay, okay. new plan,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, and you blink, brows furrowing that he’s not rolling his eyes, and he’s not telling you to get over it, and he’s not annoyed. “you finish up dinner, i’ll get you the fanciest reservation for tomorrow, kay? no more tears though,” he brushes away the last few on your cheek, hugging your waist as you process his words.
“what?”
“you heard me,” he whispers, voice husky as he trails kisses down your jaw, burying his face into your neck. “‘m sorry, baby. didn’t mean to forget.”
and it hits you that maybe you got it all wrong, that maybe you weren’t fair on wakasa. of course he cares, and a silly little eight month milestone isn’t silly to him if it’s important to you. you wrap your arms around his neck, shuffling closer.
“got all dressed up and cute that night,” you pout. “you didn’t even get to see.” he nods, rubbing small circles into your back.
“this is horrible news,” he mumbles. “i really missed out.”
“you did,” you nod, and he presses another kiss to your neck.
“s’okay, you’ll get all dolled up for me tomorrow, won’t you?” and finally, a small smile forms on your lips as you nod, relaxing fully into his embrace as he stays rubbing your back, the hurt and doubt and anger from before all melting away.
yeah, maybe you got it all wrong.
“you don’t deserve it,” you mutter.
“yeah, i don’t,” he agrees. pulling away, he looks at you with a small smirk, leaning in as his forehead meets yours. “but you’ll still do it for me anyway, right?”
and when you nod, his lips crash into yours, and you think maybe he is expressive—in his own annoying little way.
You're curled up beside him, dead to the world, and your daughter is quiet for once. It's early, and he can remember a time when there was no way he'd be in bed right now.
A time before diapers, and bottles— before he spent nights bouncing a tiny bundle with eyes like yours. He rolls over, curling an arm around you and burying his face in your hair. You smell like his shampoo and he reminds himself to stop by the store tomorrow.
The sound of snuffles and whines catches his attention; he squeezes you briefly before rolling out of bed. Quiet whimpers and the sound of tiny legs thumping are his only warning to hurry his ass up. When he reaches the nursery, he has five seconds to get her up and into his arms before she starts her banshee shrieking.
The moment she spots him, her lower lip pushes out and he smiles sweetly to soothe the oncoming tantrum. Tiny arms are lifted the moment he's hovering above her crib and he chuckles.
"Oh? What if I was just checking on you, little princess?" The tears are bubbling up so he concedes, hoisting her up into his arms with a soft coo.
"Now, now, don't wake up mama." She drops her little chin on Imaushis shoulder, tiny arms stretching to try and hug him across his broad shoulders. There's a quiet yawn in his ear that makes him hum in response, patting her on the back.
"Shh, beautiful." He thumps rhythmically against her, listening to the soft huffs and puffs as she tries to fight her sleep. Rubbing her tiny eyes as he wanders the hallway and into the living room.
At least he has company, he figures, when he plops down into the recliner and she wriggles around to face the TV.
⟣ cw/tw: oral f!receiving, marking, kind of possessive, light bondage(hands tied). soft ending because I’m weak
⟣ a/n: take this offering. today’s chapter ruined me. I can’t stop thinking about him so I had to write something 😩
A soft slurping sound and your own quivering breathing was all you could hear. You’re leaned up against a pile of fluffy pillows with your hands stretched above your head and tied to the bed frame. Your thighs were being held open by none other than your boyfriend, Imaushi. He had you exactly how he wanted, and no matter how your legs trembled and shook when he gave you another orgasm, his grip on you never faltered. It was a wonder to you that his tongue alone could bring you to such heights but you weren’t one to complain.
You softly open your eyes when you feel his lips finally pull back from your cunt and the site before you makes you whine. Heavy lidded eyes peer up, his gaze sweeping over you before locking with your own, the intensity kindling another fire in you. The low light in the room softly reflects off the shine on the lower half of his face, of which was covered in your arousal.
You wanted to say something, anything at all. But you find that every time you open your mouth you’re unable to produce words; dry throat from all the screaming you’d done after he made you cum too many times to count. He takes pity on you, smiling gently. “Are you convinced yet? Do you feel better now?” He asks, not really expecting much of an answer. Long fingers trail over the top of the inside of your thigh, tracing over the word ‘mine’, the word he had written in big bold letters with a permanent marker earlier.
Sliding his hand up further to your weeping cunt, he takes one finger and drags it up your slit collecting your juices. He sits up and comes to straddle your lap, hovering over your body. Taking your chin in his other hand he holds you steady as he swipes his finger over your mouth. You feel the stickiness of yourself coat your lips like a gloss before he ducks his head down, kissing you hard. He pulls your bottom lip into his mouth, suckling your arousal off of you before sliding his tongue in, the taste of yourself pooling over your tastebuds.
He doesn’t pull away until you’re both breathless, chests heaving. You shyly look up at him through your lashes, smiling at the fond look on his face. “No more jealousy ok? I don’t give a fuck about any one else. Only you. You’re mine and I’m yours and I’ll remind you of that as often as I need too.” If he’s going to remind you in this same way every time, maybe you’ll have to hold on to that jealousy you think.
Authors Note: I made the format cute and different because I failed at the Kokonoi assignment. 🙏🏻 Forgive me. This is all fluff because... I just needed some self indulgent fluff and you gave me so much wiggle room. 😂💕 MDNI.
Imaushi thinks you're funny.
At least that's what Shinichiro used to tell you before he passed. Without the eldest Sano your friend group seemed to splinter and crack; a few days or not answering the group chat became a few months and then was only the occasional "Happy Holidays!" each year. It's something that bothers you every time you think about it because you miss the way things were between the five of you.
But especially you and Imaushi.
Life went on, though. You grew up, got married, had a kid— then divorced and moved back home. Boy, was that something.
"Senju?" You smirked at the girl you could remember seeing in diapers, bouncing your own little one on your hip. She was beaming; having stumbled across one another at the mall of all things seemed a little to convenient to be a coincidence.
"Y/N!" The young boy trailing behind her was giving you a wide-eyed stare that was a bit uncomfortable, but you decided to just ignore it for the time being.
"Look at you! How's life been treating you?" You weren't completely ignorant to the way things worked around here now, but it was still funny to you that Brahman was run by a kid you could remember being afraid of centipedes.
"It's been great!" And you believe her, because Takeomi had helped you secure your apartment and rambled about how successful things had been for them as you put together your bedframe.
It's good to see her; when you wave her off later and her little friend — Takemichi, you think — is still staring like you're some kind of apparition you give him a smile that has a little too much bite.
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
"Wakumi." The toddler is giving you a very decisive side eye, holding her popsicle with all the care an almost two year old can manage.
"You can't—" She promptly sticks it in her mouth, completely uncaring about fact she'd just dropped it on the dirty ground. It makes your teeth ache; you swipe a hand down your face and pray for patience.
"Right. Okay." Wakumi giggles as you rise from your crouched position and take her hand to tug her along. Usually you would carry her because she's not quite quick enough to keep up, but today she had thrown a fit to walk; you'd swallowed down your frustration and agreed to simply move at a snails pace with her.
"Mama—!" She's pointing with her other hand, popsicle balanced between her teeth so she can garble around it. The rest of her sentence goes over your head between the nonsensical sounds and her frozen treat, but you follow her little finger and catch yourself grinning.
"His hair is pretty, huh?" Of course she spotted Imaushi. The man's hair is colored brightly enough that her little eyes are wide; she's completely hypnotized. It's unsurprising— you are too, after all, just for different reasons.
Arashi spots you first, nudging his friend as the two of you approach. You don't acknowledge the way his violet eyes still give you goosebumps. Wakumi hasn't stopped staring and it makes you bite back giggles when both men take note of her.
"Go on, 'Umi."
"Pretty hair!" Is what she manages to blurt out and Arashi barks out a laugh with you when Imaushi squats across from her with a lazy smile.
"Thank you, little princess."
At that exact moment, your brain short circuits.
Oh. Oh man. Your daughter lights up and you feel your own cheeks heating as she shyly tries to tuck herself behind your leg. Typically you would try to correct her misuse of a "thank you" but your brain was too busy trying to reboot. Now you're staring; when he glances up and notices, the grin he'd been wearing only grows.
"Hey, Y/N." You let out a hum that makes Arashi snort and abruptly you're assaulted by the reminder that your entire friend group knew about your giant crush on Imaushi Wakasa. Even the man himself.
A crush you'd thought you'd outgrown over the years, but when faced with his familiar features you realize you had definitely not.
"Hey, guys, what's up?" Wakumi is clinging to your leg as she sucks on her popsicle, intelligent eyes flickering between you and the two men curiously.
"Just running some errands for Takeomi." It's pointedly vague and you nod a bit, reaching down to untangle your daughter's fingers from your dress and hold her hand.
"You should come by sometime. We can catch up." When they nod, Wakumi once again starts babbling; her tiny hand gesturing at the window of one of the stores. Occasionally she says something that makes sense, and it makes you grin proudly, turning to give her your full attention as Arashi answers a call.
Imaushi laughs.
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
"Fuck, Y/N." You mewl softly as Imaushi kneads the flesh of your thighs, leaning in to kiss you softly while you squirm on his lap.
Wakumi is asleep.
Tucked away nice and safe in her bed as the bottle of wine finally slipped passed your defenses. The rest of your friends had all headed out an hour earlier and you'd been a bit too excited about the man underneath you staying.
The movie you'd put on was long forgotten when he started tracing patterns along your arms; it didn't take you long to cave and scramble into his embrace. His lashes are pretty against his cheeks as you pull away from the kiss, hands cupping his face.
"Careful, or I'll be giving you another baby." It's a joke— except your thighs flex under his palms in a pitiful attempt to snap together and his lazy eyes sharpen on yours.
"Oh? Like that idea, hm?" He's rasping it against your mouth, shifting to grind his erection into your slick core. There are too many clothes between you, you decide, hands instinctively running down him in the hopes of removing a few layers—
"Mama!" Imaushi chuckles at the soft whimper you let out, gently nudging you into motion when your lips form a pout.
"Go on, I'll wait." Your heart flutters as you wriggle off his lap and stumble to your daughters room; you decide right then you must be in love.
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
"I'm glad you're okay." Because even though now you're all grown up and toting a toddler around, you remember being in a gang. The dangers only get worse and worse the older you get; the fact all your childhood friends are still alive and kicking is a testament to their badassery.
"Just a few bumps and bruises." Comes down the line as you pinch the phone between your ear and shoulder, stirring the pot in front of you as Wakumi squeals to be picked up.
"Baby— ah, shit— shoot!" You correct quickly when her socks send her to the floor, letting out a small sigh when she screeches in response. Hefting her up into your arms, you put the burner on low and carry her to the living room.
"Catastrophe happen?" Imaushi is amused, and you roll your eyes over her head when Wakumis dramatics stall in an attempt to listen in.
"Her socks teamed up with the tile floor to beat her up." She's crying again and you put him on speaker, setting the phone on the arm of the couch so you can wrap her up in your arms.
"Oh no, little princess!" You bite back a snicker when she perks up, dramatic sobs quieting to small whimpers so that she can hear him clearly.
"Did those mean ol' socks hurt your feelings?" She garbled out a "yes!" enthusiastically that you're not even sure he understood— but he carries on anyway and you try to wipe the grin off your face.
"Do I need to beat them up?"
"Yes!" Then she's wriggling around to head for the phone, grinning when she snatches it off off couch to yell down at it. Imaushis laughter echoes around your living room and you smile. It's... nice. Comforting.
"Alright, tell your mama to open the door, then." Now you're scrambling, eyes wide when there's a teasing knock at the door.
Wakumi squeals when you yank it open, shoving by you to latch onto Imaushis leg with eager laughter.
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
"She loves you." Your murmuring to him as the two of you watch Wakumi toddle around her bedroom. She's setting up the tea party that she'd forced Imaushi to agree to through a series of well placed tears and giggles.
"I love her too." It felt like he was saying more than that when his eyes flickered up to meet yours, a small grin tilting the corners of his lips around the sucker that had taken residence in his mouth.
"... her dad hasn't called since we got here. I think she's, uh, projecting a bit." His smile fades, eyes moving across your features before returning to Wakumi.
"He's a peice of shit." The drawl seems unbothered, but you knew better when his normally droopy eyes focused in on her once more. She's putting on a crown — it's lopsided, but when you offer to help she gives you the stink eye — and then turns smugly to Imaushi.
"Princess." The word makes his eyes widen briefly before he chuckles and lurches forward, lifting her into the air as she squeals. He presses a kiss to her temple before she insists on being put back down and hustles him to the little table where shes set up her plastic tea set.
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
"Daddy!" You and Imaushi freeze, turning to the distraught child who has loudly declared that he is her dad. She's sprinting as fast as her little legs will carry her, stumbling enough you catch yourself half jumping up to aid her before sitting back on the bench.
Nevermind the fact her actual dad has finally graced the two of you by agreeing to meet up at the local park, almost a year after you left him. He's just watching this scene unfold with narrowed eyes. He's visibly angry, red crawling up his neck and face, when she limps her way into Imaushis arms, tears trailing down chubby cheeks.
"Oh no!" Wakumi howls, sobbing.
It takes a second to calm her down enough to realize shes not hurt— she's just upset that her stocking ripped, and you're still scrambling for a way to explain that Imaushi isn't her dad when your ex storms over.
"Seriously, Y/N?" Wakumi is still settled on her pseudo-father figures lap when he addresses you, and you're preparing for the impending argument—
"Shut up and move on. If she's forgotten you, it's your own fault for never showing interest. You don't get to come and go as you like and expect there not to be consequences." It's really not his place to intervene, but you don't say anything.
Because when you turn and watch him brush his fingers through her little curls, narrowed eyes softening when he looks down at her, you realize that maybe it should be. Your ex opens and closes his mouth a few times before Wakumi remembers that he's supposed to be playing with her and turns to garner his attention again.
It's the last time the two of you see him.
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
"Wakasa—" His hand covers your mouth, a smirk curling his lips as your legs tighten around his waist. Shushing you sweetly, he basks in the way you whimper and writhe under his attention.
"Wanna— fuck— give you another baby. Make me a daddy again—" He groans when your pussy flutters around him; the delicious drag against your walls has you teary eyed. The whispers go on, dropped directly into your ear as he pistons into your core.
Your panting behind his palm, trying your damnedest to stay quiet. Wakumi is in her room down the hall but she's ended up in your bed the past few nights; it feels like a race against the clock as your orgasm teases your senses.
"C'mon, angel, cum for me. One more time. Let me feel you." Imaushis crooning finally throws you over the edge, and you choke back a sob as he follows after you. He droops over you, being careful not to crush you, and the two of you take a moment to just... be.
For two seconds, anyway.
"Mama? Daddy?" Imaushi chuckles when your daughter knocks at the door; rolling off of you to tug his sweats on and you scramble for your own pajamas just before he opens the door.
It's only been a few weeks since he moved in; almost two years since the two of them met, but—
He lifts her into his arms while she rubs her little eyes, letting her droop against his shoulder as you pull the covers back for them to join you. Imaushi leans back, letting her starfish across his torso and tugging the blankets up around the two of them. You lean over to kiss the back of her head, then him, before settling down with a smile.
Imaushi is a good daddy; you wonder when you should tell him he's got another one on the way.