Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
wakasa has such a grip on you and he fucking knows it. ugh.
he won't even be phased by you when you get all up in his face shouting and calling him names. he'll just stand there smirking at you because the only thing he can focus on is how god damn pretty you look when you're angry
shit, sometimes, he pisses you off just to see you all hot and bothered like this -- eyes pointed and brows drawn, accusatory finger pointed at his chest.
he's already thinking of the 30 different positions he would have you in right fucking now if he could -- god, he just wants to fuck that little attitude right out of you. (yes, I head canon that waka is a brat tamer and no one can tell me otherwise.)
"Are you even fucking listening?" You would ask.
"Mhm," he would say, but he would never want you to feel like he didn't care about what you have to say, so he would add, "I'm listening, mama, keep going."
you hope he doesn't catch the way you stammer as you continue your ramble. he does -- and his smirk only widens at it.
he knows you could never stay mad at him.
when he decides he's had his fun, he'll slide his arm around you, lips dripping with those sweet nothings he knows you love to hear.
"I'm sorry, mama," He croons softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I won't do it again."
he knows you're not really that angry at him. Rather, that you're angry at a situation and you want to be heard by him.
"Promise?" you would ask him.
"'Course, mama," he adds. "don't want my future wife crying' over something I did. y'er too damn pretty. ain't that right, mrs. imaushi?"
then your gaze would soften, your anger would weaken, and he would know he had won. he knew he had your pretty ass wrapped around his finger. no one else could handle his princess the way he could.
