(DISCONTINUED)
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
TW: DESCRIPTIVE GORE, STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE/ABUSE, SUBSTANCE USE
COVER ART CR: @som on twt
Meeting Gojo Satoru at a casino isn't the best fate, and agreeing to entangle yourself with him isn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
Annoying, stupid, little pest. My black, Versace Medusa Aevitas thud softly against the carpeting of the casino, making my way to a certain someone. I crawl up behind him, "Naoya," I start, my fingers tracing small figure eights on his back. "Do you realise how far in debt you are right now?" I whisper into his ear, feeling him shiver against my touch. "I've given you time, haven't I?" My voice laced with malice as I continue, "Learn how to obey, Zen'in. Have it by next week."
Said Zen'in has been rendered speechless, embarrassed and furious. Yet he knows he can't do anything about it, it's his fault, and his alone.
I make my way to the bar, stride confident as usual, head up. I prop myself down on one of the stools surrounding the circular counters, bartender approaching me. "The usual, please." He nods as I lay my head on my left hand, elbow on the table.
"What's an angel like you doing alone here?" I look up to see basically the devil striding over to me, in his stupidly expensive white suit. Snowy white hair, and azure eyes that shined oh so brightly, despite the semi dark lighting.
"Sorry, do I know you?" I bat my eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. "Don't act like you don't, babe." He pulls back the stool next to mine, sitting down. I smile, "Tell me your name. Please?"
He smiles back, though its more of a smirk. Because, everyone knows the Gojo Satoru. And it seems you might just be the first person to actually ask for his name, even despite knowing it.
"Gojo Satoru."
He gives his name, and I give mine. "Gojo Satoru," I test, seeing how well his name rolls off my tongue. "Yeah, baby?" I sigh at the nickname, dismissing him with a simple 'Nothing.'
My drink arrives shortly after. I take notice on how the color of my beverage resembles him in a way. Blue hues, just like his eyes. I stir my drink with the straw, creating a small whirlpool in the middle before I decide to take a sip.
Sickly sweet, just how I like it.
Before I notice it, Gojo has taken a straw from the bartender and dipped it into my drink, taking a sip aswell.
"Gojo you little dickhead," I move my glass away from him, "you have your own money. Get your own drink."
He pouts, "But it tastes better when it's not mine."
"Fuck you, Gojo Satoru."
"When?" The smug tone is evident in his voice. I roll my eyes, beginning to stand up. "At this point, never."
"Boo." He pouts, leaning over slightly as he takes my beverage into his hand, claiming it as his own.
"So why are you here, huh?"
"The casino?"
"No, Vegas."
"Oh," I ponder for a moment, before answering. "S' my birthday, decided to celebrate here to have a little bit of fun." It's not exactly a lie, you were originally sent here for a mission that ended up getting finished off by someone else. So why not spend your sweet twenty-sixth here? "How about you, Mr. Gojo?" I prod at him, standing up fully, infront of his seat in an attempt to tower over him as hes sat.
He responds, not missing a beat. "Mm, no reason. Probably the same as yours, to have some fun." A part of me knows theres more info behind it, but I don't bother.
He gets up, pushing the stool he sat on under the counter. He walks forward into me, making me move back. His hand grabs my chin gently as the gap inbetween our faces gets increasingly smaller,
