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notiddygothgf · 1 year ago

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12. three months

★ 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, so much more...

★ a/n: so.... I have definitely been on hiatus. So so so sorry about that my little pookie bookies. life has been so cray cray lately. ur fave premed student has been struggling ngl. but I'm back up on my grind and I'm cranking out these chapters again! This one took a while to write because its definitely not a writing style I'm used to, but I needed to get this out to get to the good good. waka girlies, u will enjoy this chapter... I'm not spoiling but, stay tuned!!! love u allllll

★ w.c.; who even knows bru

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BLACK STILETTO HEELS CLICKED AGAINST linoleum, one after the other – the sounds rhythmic and soothing. You could faintly hear the fabric of your pencil skirt rustling as your thighs rubbed together, strutting down the aisle of the office with confident ease. You ran these streets. Least, that’s what it felt like when you came down that aisle every morning after you clocked in.

Right. Let’s run it back.

Three months had passed since your last meeting with Wakasa. You had taken some time to mull the whole thing over, and while a part of you wanted to hate him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Three months of thinking, eight months of loneliness, three months spent repeating the same day over and over again. Three months at a job you didn’t really like, trying to make ends meet after Takeomi had cut you off.

Three months without him .

The unopened message sat in your phone the way it had been since you’d sent it. It seemed like years, now, that you had been running your tired gaze over the small field of text below the drunken mash of letters you had sent.

Read 12:01 AM

Swishing the burgundy booze around the bottom of your glass, you rested your head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the bar table.

You swiped your ID through the reader, punching out for the day. Pocketing the little card and lanyard, you continued onward. You came up to an elevator, same one you used every day. You pressed the same buttons to get down to the same door you left through every day.

Every day.

With a quick nod of your head, you greeted your coworker – who was on her way in just as you were making your way out. You weren’t too big of a fan of her, in all honesty. You felt she was too superficial. Then again, who wasn’t in a place like this?

You were making good money, though. That’s all that mattered.

The rush of cool air that greeted you as you pushed past the gold-rimmed office doors provided a brief respite from the stuffy office. The city streets stretched before you, bustling with activity as people hurried by.

You took a deep breath.

Heels clicking against the pavement with every step, you walked with a purpose. The air of confidence you strived to exude seemed to mask your internal turmoil – feelings you felt were much better left unsaid, feelings that had been bottled away in the cellar of your mind for the past three months.

Three months of repetition.

Three months of regret.

Three months spent trying to remember the intricate valleys and curves of his body, the small features you had come to adore.

Three months spent trying to forget him.

Though you had struggled initially with your feelings toward Wakasa, you couldn’t really bring yourself to hate him. You had spent a good quarter of a year mulling it over in your head, breaking your last interaction with him into microscopic bits and pieces.

You had concluded that he had done it to protect you.

You knew he had been right to an extent but, shit… a man of his standing should have been able to find a way to make it happen…

…right?

You hadn’t heard much about Takeomi since the fight with him and Waka. Not even a peep. You didn’t know whether to feel alarmed about that or not.

You felt like you were being watched from a distance. Always. It felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle.

With your phone in hand, you dialed the number for a cab. The familiar anticipation began to build again while you waited for the vehicle to arrive.

On the streets below, the city lights flickered to life, casting an amber glow on the sidewalk. You looked around for a moment, and then something piqued your attention.

Vrrrr.

There was a deep, rumbling sound in the distance, one that seized your heart in its grasp. For a moment, you were right back where you had been eight months ago. Your eyes searched the street until they fell upon a motorcyclist who had slowed to a stop in front of your building. Well, not in front of it, across the street.

The sight of the rider stirred a pang of nostalgia deep within you.

In that split second, memories flickered through your mind. Memories of stolen laughter, hidden kisses… Memories of hushed promises against soft lips, some broken and some kept. His silhouette triggered an unexpected surge of hope.

You strained to see the rider’s face, heart racing. You yearned for that familiar, lazy gaze – the warmth it once held.

But as he popped the helmet off of his head, it wasn’t blond hair that fell over his shoulders. No, just regular old brown hair and a stubbly face.

It’s not him.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your gaze fell.

The cab’s arrival disrupted the moment, its tires screeching against the pavement until it came to a stop by the curb. With a weighted sigh, you climbed into the cab.

Your heart throbbed with a bittersweet ache. As the cab pulled away, you couldn’t help but wonder about the chances you wished you had taken with Wakasa, the what-ifs that lingered in the recesses of your mind.

The cab carried you away from the scene, leaving behind the phantom of a love that had become a haunting memory.

The cold, yellow liquid felt refreshing as it burned its way down the back of his throat, that familiar acidic texture eating away at his stress. He sighed, setting the glass down on the counter.

As the bittersweet elixir numbed his senses, the pulsing beats of the club melted away, merging with the cacophony of laughter and chatter all around him.

Lost in a haze of intoxication, Wakasa let out a heavy sigh, setting the glass down on the counter with a thud. His friends eyed him up warily, faces etched with that familiar look of concern. He heard voices, people telling him to slow down, to regain control.

Of course, he paid them no heed. Glazed eyes reflecting a distant detachment, senses dulled from the liquor… worries numbed, just the way he liked it. In that numbing embrace, he found solace. Time and time again.

“I think you need a therapist, man,” Benkei whistled, nursing his own strawberry margarita. “If you’re still hung up over a hook-up this long after the fact, there’s something wrong with you.”

He pushed his friend’s concerns aside with an air of indifference and a quiet hum, too caught up in the muffled chaos of his own mind to truly acknowledge his worries.

“I think you need ‘ta hop off my dick,” He retorted, pursing his lips. “I know what I’m doin’, Kei. ‘M 27 years old.”

Benkei knitted his brows, muttering something into his margarita along the lines of, “Sure don’t act like it.”

“‘M fine, guys. Promise,” He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew he hadn’t been himself in a while, of course, but he would be damned if he admitted that. “What, a man can’t drink in peace?”

“No, Waka, the problem isn’t you drinking in peace,” Shin added matter-of-factly. “‘S the fact that that’syour eighth beer of the night.”

Waka glanced down at the half-empty drink in his hand – or half full, depending on how you looked at it – as if he, too were surprised at the number. “‘S Friday night, anyway. Go hard or go home.”

Waka thought he had put on a good show. He thought that, if Shin squinted hard enough, he could mistake him for a sober man.

He thought wrong.

Shin shook his head, “It’s fuckin’ Thursday, man.”

Although he refused to acknowledge it verbally, he knew Shinichiro had brought up a good point.

Who was he kidding, anyway? It didn’t help. None of it did. The booze, the clubs every weekend, the faceless hookups and lap dances – none of it distracted him from the mess you had made in his heart.

Three months.

“It’s okay to admit you need help, Waka, y’know we love ‘ya,” Shin tilted his head. “Seriously.”

“Honest to God,” Benkei hummed.

The whole world knew he was a mess. Why couldn’t he just admit that something was wrong?

Waka ran his tongue over his teeth like the sharpened edge of a blade. He almost hoped it would draw blood. Anything to make him feel something.

“I…” He hummed, trailing off for a moment. “I think I need one more shot, then I’ll go home.”

Benkei shook his head.

Shin looked disappointed. Still, Waka couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

Not even when his two friends had to carry him home.

[ 2:00 AM ]

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

You get home safe?

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Yeah man. Thx 4 askin.

He holdin’ up ok?

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

He’s alr now, im staying w him tn

Gotta make sure he don’t puke in his sleep

Lol

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

This ain’t healthy for him…

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

Ik… we gotta do smth man

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Ik, h8 2 see him like this

Outgoing Message - 2:01 AM

Idk i mean my lil sis is friends w her i think?

It may be time for ummm

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

An intervention lol?

You know how Waka feels ab us gettin involved w his antics

Outgoing Message - 2:02 AM.

Not us.

I know a way

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

It don’t involve Take’s ex girl, do it?

Outgoing Message - 2:03 AM

Jus follow my lead, alr?

Incoming Message - 2:03 AM

… I don’t like where this is headin, shin.

But I trust u.

Delivered.

[ USER CALL LOG ]

Best Bud (Waka)....... (Incoming) 5:00 PM (30 sec)

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; declined) 2:10 AM

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:11 AM (26 mins)

Benkei …………………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:12 AM (1 min)

Shibuya Pizzeria ……. (Outgoing ; received) 2:30 AM (1 min).

[ END OF USER “Papi Sano”S CALL LOG]

[2:05 AM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] …

… [View Inbox]

…

[ Last 3 Months ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from ‘Pretty Thing’.

Transcription:

“ Hi Waka, It’s me… I know ‘s… [hiccup] been a while. I’m- Just. Wanted to let you know that I’m in the area. And, first of all… fuck you, for what you did to, to me, you– ugh. You bastar- [hiccup] -d. I’m calling to let you know that I’m much better off without you. Me and my girls are havin’ a ball… a… a ball here tonight. Without you…….. Ugh, who am I kidding. I don’t even know why I called you. You probably haven’t even thought about me in months. I know I’m g’nna [hiccup] wake up tomorrow and forget I even sent this message so– [hiccup] just do me a favor, okay? You owe me that, after breaking my heart the way you did. Just forget you never saw this message, okay? Delete it. It’ll be better for both ‘f us if we just pretended this never happened. Fuck. How do I delete a voice message? I–

[???]: Girl, who are you talking to?

I gotta go, Waka, but… [sigh] I miss you. Okay? Fuck, I really miss you. I would never admit that sober. Thankfully I’m gonna delete this message before you ever see it, so it’ll be like it never happened. Not like I would have remembered anyway. Okay. Which button is it again? Ah, wait, shi –”

[ End of Message. ]

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ No. ]

[ Play ]

[Automated]: Replaying message from ‘Pretty thing’.

The harsh neon lights buzzed against the night sky tonight at the Eclipse. Even from where you were standing on the curb, you could hear the bass throbbing through the pavement, the vibrations in the air, the smell of sweaty bodies grinding a few yards away.

YOU | I’m here babe wya

Hitting send, you pocketed your phone. You took a deep breath, tightened your grip around the strap of your purse, and then stepped forward. The moment you entered the club, a wave of sound and sensation enveloped you. The air was thick with perfumes and colognes, the faint aroma of liquor lingering somewhere – probably the ground.

Disco lights painted the crowd in fleeting bursts of colors, highlighting dancing bodies, dazzling outfits, and sin.

In all honesty, you had no idea why Emma had even thought to invite you out here tonight. It had been eons since your last trip to the club. But, still, she said some event was happening and she didn’t want to go alone, and who were you if not the world’s best friend?

You searched the crowd for her familiar face and, sure enough, there she was, standing by the bar on the far end of the room. Blonde hair down to her back and a sweetheart dress that revealed just enough cleavage for you to know she was scouting out free drinks tonight, she was hard to miss.

You couldn’t help but smile as she waved you down wildly, gold bangles glinting beneath the club’s kaleidoscopic lights. There was an old song playing, one you couldn’t quite remember.

Emma’s grin only widened after you approached the bar and took a seat next to her. You scooted a little closer, cupping your hands over your mouth and shouting, “You weren’t kidding about this place!”

She laughed, a sound that you could almost hear in your head despite not being able to catch it over the music. “It’ll be fun! You brought ‘ya dancin’ shoes, right?”

Your eyes darted over to the dancefloor, where bodies writhed beneath the bass of the music. The sensation you felt was somewhere between excitement and hesitation. “I ‘dunno if I’m there yet, Emma– It’s been a while!”

“What?” Emma shouted. She rolled her eyes, glancing down at the other end of the bar. “I didn’t bring you here to mope, babe, we’re getting plastered!”

On cue, the bartender returned with two green drinks in hand, furnished with tiny little umbrellas. He set them down in front of the two of you, reached behind the bar, and then set two more red cocktails down before you.

“Let’s get this party started!” Emma squealed, sliding one of the green drinks your way. She held her drink in your direction, “To girls’ night!”

You clinked your glasses together in a toast.

Taking a cautious sip, you allowed the sweet concoction to flood your parched mouth. It was coconutty, with a hint of lime and –

The liquor hit you like a punch to the face. You scrunched your nose up, coughing a bit.

“Shit, that’s strong,” You remarked.

“It’s a Coco Loco!” She answered the question you had yet to ask. “With two extra shots of rum! I knew you’d like it!”

You weren’t really a fan honestly, but you didn’t want to tell her that. Not after she had just spent money on drinks for the both of you.

“It’s good,” You said anyway.

Emma clapped a hand on your shoulder, “That’s the spirit!” She exclaimed happily. Her makeup was creased a bit around the corners of her lips, where you knew she had been smiling all night. “Melt the pain away, girl.”

Wakasa stumbled out of the car, pulling his arm out of Shinichiro’s tight grasp. His annoyance was palpable in the way he kicked the car door shut behind him, paying no mind to the driver as he pulled away. He stood now on the edge of a bustling sidewalk in the middle of what might have been the shadiest-looking corner in Shibuya. He took a long drag from his cigarette, tendrils of smoke melting into the midnight blue around them.

“The hell are we doing at a seedy joint like this?” Waka grumbled, voice a low growl of discontent. With a scowl, he readjusted the collar of his deep purple dress shirt.

Shinichiro bounced on the balls of his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a sigh. His breath materialized into the air in front of him, a cloud of white amidst the darkness.

“Figured we’d let loose a ‘lil tonight,” He spoke with such casualty that it almost came off as a little dismissive. He nudged Wakasa playfully, a humorous glint playing in his dark eyes. “Find some loose local girls for a quickie, yeah?”

Under any other circumstances, he would have been jumping at the opportunity. Seeing as he had spent the last few months attempting to drink his regrets away, however, he was anything but chipper at the prospect.

Waka’s annoyance only deepened, brows furrowing. He took another puff of his cig, blowing out the smoke with a quiet scoff. “I’m over fuckin’, man,” he groaned. “I’m goin’ celibate… startin’ today, no more bitches f’me.”

“Like I’d ever believe that from you,” Shinichiro snorted, a subtle grin playing at the corner of his thin lips. He slung an arm over Wakasa’s shoulders. The height difference between the two of them was emphasized as they walked side by side. “Jus’ give it an hour, Waka,” he urged, tone oddly persuasive. “If you hate it, we can leave. If you don’t have a chick’s legs wrapped around your neck by the end of the night, I owe you fifty.”

Waka sucked his teeth, irritation melting away with newfound curiosity. “Might do it ‘jus to spite ‘ya,” He retorted.

“Right. Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Shinichiro replied, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. There was something in his tone that raised Wakasa’s suspicion, the slightest feeling that Shinichiro might be up to something. “And don’t be bitchy with me ‘jus because I won’t let you pregame a fuckin’ liquor bar.”

Waka shot Shinichiro a fiery glare, cigarette ember glowing bright, before flicking the thing onto the ground in one deliberate motion. “Blow me,” he muttered beneath his breath.

The two men stood in front of the club’s entrance. Wakasa slowed, locking his gaze onto the club’s exterior. Then, with a reluctant sigh, Waka entered the building.

As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in the spell of the music, lost in the endless sea of dancing, grinding bodies. The colored lights were hot against your sweaty skin. You knew the makeup would be melting off of your face by the end of the night if you kept going on at this rate. Hell, your mascara had started migrating already.

Emma’s Just-dance-inspired moves were contagious. The two of you were dancing on one another, performing a routine you seemed to remember all too well for someone who hated playing Just Dance so much.

The club seemed to ebb and flow like a living organism tonight.

You had lost track of time a long time ago. The songs had begun to bleed together seamlessly. Somewhere along the way, you lost your sweater. The dress you had decided to wear was stuck to your waist, plastered down with sweat.

Yet, in spite of this, you were having more fun than you had anticipated.

Your flow was broken only when Emma grabbed you by the arm and led you to an empty corner. The both of you caught your breath.

Cheeks hot and flushed, you sighed contentedly, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Emma, but you were right.”

“You havin’ fun, girly?” She giggled, giving you a playful sock in the arm. “Told you you’d feel better if you got out of the house.”

You nodded, feeling slightly liberated. She was right. You were actually kind of glad that you came out of your shell for tonight.

Emma raised a playful brow. “You want to get a refresher?”

With a nod and a thin-lipped smile, you let Emma lead you over to the bar.

The two of you took a seat for the second time that evening, taking a moment to cool down and catch your breath.

Emma turned her attention to the bartender – the same one she had just tried to hit on 30 minutes ago, “Two waters, please,” She ordered.

You tuned the bar out after that. Feeling a little melancholic, your eyes scanned the scene. The lights, the bodies, the music, the drinks. It was all so… messy. Yet, still, there was that unmistakable electricity in the air tonight.

Just as you were about to turn back to Emma, your gaze locked onto a figure against the wall. Immediately the recognition set in, and your heart skipped more than a few beats. It seemed to stop altogether.

There, standing in the dim corner, the lights danced over his familiar features – pretty button nose, downturned eyes, arched brows. His hair was back in a messy bun tonight. Even now, he had that passive, unamused look on his face.

He looked exactly the same as he had the day he closed the door on you.

Well, if you want to be technical, you closed the door on him, but you meant that in the metaphorical sense.

His piercing eyes scanned the crowd with a touch of his signature indifference. He exuded an air of mystique, momentarily entrancing you all over again.

And even now, three months later, his effect on you had not wavered.

Emma’s touch on your arm brought you back to the present, breaking the spell he had cast. “Hey,” She asked, concern evident in her voice. “You good?”

Your eyes were drawn back to the entrance, and your heart sank when you spotted your blond, ex-situationship once again. Panic surged through your veins immediately, seizing your lungs. It felt as if the walls of the club had gotten much smaller, all of a sudden.

Waka was standing there by the entrance, only a few yards away, with Shinichiro by his side. He looked every bit as breathtaking as you remembered him to be.

And he was looking right at you.

He can’t see me.

I need to hide.

He can’t see me.

You whipped your head back around towards your friend, flashing her a faux smile. “I’m gonna,” You swallowed, voice unsteady. “I’m gonna go back to the floor.”

Without even waiting for a response, you turned abruptly and slid off of the barstool. Your pulse was racing as you pushed through the wall of bodies behind the bar and made a beeline for the dance floor.

Emma was calling after you. You didn’t care.

The urgency to put distance between you and your past had consumed you whole. The bass pounded in your ears, matching the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. The music drowned out her voice as you merged with the sea of people once again.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried your best to lose yourself in the rhythm. Your movements were a frenzied, frantic mess of anxious movements. This time, when the lights flickered over you, the shadows they cast brought back memories of your history, your mistakes.

I will not let him ruin my night, you told yourself.

Yet, still, you dared one last glance around.

It was to scout the area for a suitor. That’s what you told yourself.

Subconsciously, however, you searched for Waka amidst the colorful, blurred throng. Your heart began to race again when you spotted him by the bar, head turning slowly, eyes flitting over the club scene. It looked like he was searching for something.

The realization hit you like a train.

He’s looking for me.

a/n: aaaand we are back with another cliffhanger! I'm so sorry. i have been, so bad to u all lately. life has been crazy! I think I may be shadowbanned, idk, I still dk how tumbly works. anyway! I did not like writing this chapter but it was a totally necessary segway into the next one, which will be very very very very very... jus trust me yall will love it. you know the drill, leave comments, suggestions, anything in down below and I will like, cry reading ur messages as always. Next chap is gonna be my fave like everrrr omg...

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers 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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#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#party monster ⋆ ★#wakasa #wakasa imaushi #imaushi wakasa #wakasa x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa x you #wakasa smut #wakasa fluff #slow burn #sano shinichiro #tenjiku #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #bonten #IT GETS GOOD I SWEAR plz dont hate me for this chap

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