after a fight with vander...
warnings: do not interact minors and ageless blogs or you will be blocked, fluffity, maybe some angst, i don't think so, this was fun so enjoy
I’m thinking about y’know how Vander would be after a fight y’know? And I mean the kind where maybe it’s been a long week and something trivial makes you both snip until it snowballs and snowballs and now you’re not talking to each other.
Think about it. Vander ran into you after closing the bar and one too many fights are really making the bills cut it close with balancing everything, but it’s probably because he stayed up until the crack of dawn trying to figure out the numbers for it all instead of waking you up. You missed dinner trying to find a ring he lost you and then not being able to sleep because it rained until the sun peaked it’s rays over the horizon.
In short, you both were tired. And said some things you didn’t mean, you think. You really didn’t mean what you said.
Your eyes meet Vander’s because he’d finally come into your shared room, it’s nothing major. It makes sense and it was bound to happen because he always changes out of that shirt after his bar shifts, you make it a point to avoid his gaze as you skitter out of the room. He calls after you, but you don’t acknowledge it.
You’re not mad at him, but it’s been a long week and budding heads with him was the last thing you wanted after last night.
He groans to himself, looking to his drawer of shirts and finding every single one is in its place, highly unusual because you thrived in his clothes, no matter how baggy, he’d find you perched somewhere and smiling at him with one of his shirts hanging off of your figure.
Vander really avoided coming to change because he had a feeling you’d avoid staying around him too long, but he’s been without you for too long. You just argued yesterday and he’s certainly feeling the strain of not getting to touch you, hold you. He’s running his hands through his hair and looking himself in the shard of mirror that you found and propped on this dresser he had (missing a drawer because he’d fallen on it and gave you an’ Benzo a good laugh). Damn he can’t remember the last time you laughed either, but if you had bags under your eyes like he did, felt as drained and colorless as he felt, he’d stumble just to see you crack a smile.
He leaned his head in the doorway, seeing you curled up on the couch, nosing the cushion he often found himself resting on after work to rest a bit. You look tired. Well, not really. If he’s honest you look beautiful, but you wouldn’t believe him if you told him.
His lips quirked a little. “You look beautiful.”
Your brows furrow and you turn to look at him. He’s grateful that you don’t look pissed off, but he recognizes that look before you say it, “I’m tired.�� He agrees with that. “I look a mess.”
“Almost made me forget what I came in here for.” he mutters, sitting on your side of the couch. The side where he occasionally finds you dozing when you’re not up with him at the bar. It’s not as sunken in on his side, that’s how he knows it’s yours. “That’s how beautiful you are.”
You scoff, “What did you come in here for?”
He thinks for a moment and his lips purse - he’s playing with you - shrugging before his eyes find yours again and a smile curls the corner of his mouth. “I forgot.” he smiles as if to prove his point.
Your laugh trickles from a huff into giggles and he leans his head on the cushion. A whiff of you, a familiarity that faintly smells like flora and linen left to dry outside, and just as comforting when it’s paired with your smile.
He’s still leaned on the couch, smiling, but he’s tracing the bend of your knee. His thumb stops at the high of it and his eyes flick up to yours, “I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“I don’t.” you lean your head back and Vander withdraws his touch. You miss it and it doesn’t matter if it was only his finger tracing your knee. “You’re biased.”
“I have high standards.” he insists, but he can’t catch your eyes. He almost sighs aloud. He thinks he’ll lose a year of his life for every moment you’re not looking at him.
“You buy the same shoes every time those are worn out,” you say and he opens his mouth, a quip ready until he realizes your mouth. His jaw almost clicks shut and you find yourself smiling.
“They’re nice boots.” Vander lifts his foot and puts the heel of the boot on the table. He smiles as he tilts his foot, “Reliable, good style, they kick ass, and you should see the shit they get me out of.”
You smirk, “Those are some nice boots.”
He shrugs, “Yeah. And you know what else?”
You hum, but he’s tilting your face towards him and his nose taps yours when you’re finally facing him. You’re surrounded in him and you could melt from the warmth radiating off of him. Tiredness be damned, you’d reach up and kiss him if he wasn’t tracing your jaw like you were fine glass. Your eyes flick up down to his lips and you want them, shuddering out a breath before meeting his eyes again.
“I miss ‘em when I’m not in ‘em.”
You snort a laugh and shove him off, falling back into the arm of the couch in a fit of laughter. He sporting this wolfish smile that makes you feel like you’re floating rather than sitting with him on the couch, “Terrible line,” you throw the pillow you’re holding at him. “How many times have you used that?”
“Mostly to get out of trouble.”
You shake your head, “All of the fissures knows you like fucking your boots then?”
He groans, obviously not expecting his choice of words to backfire. “I meant you.”
You crawl beside him, kissing his cheek and then his jaw. You’re on your knees beside him, elbow propped on the couch so you’re a smidge taller than him and his eyes opened, then droop in the sweetest way when he realizes how close you are.
His fingers caress the back of your thigh and he noses your arm, “Didn’t mean for us to fight.” he swears as if this secret is reverent and his lifeline. “Never mean for us to fight. I’m sorry.”
You kiss his forehead and his eyes close when your lips linger there. "I know. Me too. I'm sorry," you whisper. He lets out a breath and he sinks into the couch, his hand brushes your arm and stays there when he peers up at you. “Stayed up all night.”
“How come?” he frowns.
“Rained.”
“Last night?” you hum and he tugs on your shirt, “Why didn’t you get me?”
“Then who would’ve watched the bar?”`
He makes a face, “I closed the bar. Was up doin’ numbers.”
“Math?” you smirk.
“Numbers.” he insists. “Neither of them make sense either way.”
“Maybe you should’ve come to get me.” you smile and he rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you so you’re in his lap. He sighs when he buries his face in your neck and squeezes his arms as if your chest isn’t already flush to his.
“You were sleep, baby.”
“Asleep.” you correct and he bites your neck to which you laugh, tugging his hair. He groans and you’re picked up, already being carried down the hall. “And where are you going?”
“We are going to bed.” he murmurs into your neck.
“Who’s to say we’re done fighting?” There’s no way Vander could miss the smile in your voice.
“We’re not fighting anymore.” He huffs, dropping you on the bed and leaning over you to kiss your cheek, your nose, and then your lips. Soft and so light that it leaves you wanting more until he pulls back. His knuckle draws over your chin, “Bed gets cold.”
“Use a hot water bottle.”
He glares at you and you’re smiling, leaning up to kiss him again, but he sits up, pouting at you. The bubbly laughter is something he’ll never get tired of, but he wants you and he really doesn’t want to whine about it.
“It’s not you.”
Your heart catches in your chest and you let your head fall back. He’s got you there and he cups your face, kissing you one, two, three times before he’s looking at you with those pleading eyes.
“Hurry up and change.” you sigh, but the smile you give him makes him kiss you before he’s standing upright and winking at you.
“Just change?” he wiggles his brows and you throw your shoe at him. He laughs, long and loud.
You missed these moments and he’s right. You both knew that the other wasn’t angry, but it’s moments like these where you kiss Vander’s scar on his back in passing and he pulls you in around the waist to bite your ear some. It’s hard sleeping alone or with his pillow. ‘Cause it’s not him.
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Characters and Fandoms
Fandoms will be in order of current interest, and I’ll update them as frequently as my interest in them changes. (More will most likely be added in the future if I get into something new :”D)
Genshin Impact
Baizhu, Ayato, Beidou, Thoma, Zhongli, Xiao, Xianyun
Cookie Run Kingdom
Almond, Lilac, Espresso, Elder Faerie
Obey me
Simeon, Satan, Asmodeus, Lucifer
Our Flag Means Death
Izzy Hands, Stede Bonnet
Lord of the rings / The hobbit
Legolas, Elrond, Thranduil, Lindir, Kili
The Magnus Archives
Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard, Timothy Stoker, Michael Distortion, Helen Distortion
Helluva Boss
Striker, Crimson
The Arcana
Julian, Asra, Nadia, Lucio, Valerius
Steven universe
Pearl, Peridot, Jasper, Holly Blue Agate, Blue Diamond, Yellow Diamond
Bbc Sherlock Holmes
Mycroft, Sherlock, Moriarty, John
Lucifer
Lucifer, Michael
Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them
Newt Scamander, Theseus Scamander
The Arcane
Silco, Viktor
Harry Potter
Remus, Sirius
Pokémon
Ilima
Mystic Messenger
Jaehee, Zen, 707, Jumin Han
James Bond 007
James Bond
Thank you for reading !!
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