#just trying to reminisce old days he says | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mntalbrakdown · 9 months

Text

sober thoughts - C. Fisher

masterlist!

mentions of: underage drinking, cussing, fluff, smut. MDNI. piv, unprotected sex, fingering

synopsis: you were once friends with conrad until summer happened and he just stopped talking to you

wc: 5.7k

“don’t ever forget me” your little twelve-year-old self whispered to Conrad who was a year older than you

“never,” he said playing with your hair as you both lay on the grass watching the fireworks on the fourth of July. your head laying on his chest.

“y/n are you almost ready” Belly yelled at you trying to get you to hurry up for the party you were about to go to with her and Taylor

“yes almost,” you say playing with your hair and making sure each strand is not misbehaving

“chill belly being hot takes time,” Taylor says applying more lip gloss

“anyways y/n how are you and Conrad” Taylor puts away her lip gloss in her purse

“he’s an ass and I don’t even talk to him,” you said

“What did you even do,” Belly asked playing with the ends of her hair

“I don’t know we were really close in Cousins and like two years ago in summer I started to get guys' attention and all of a sudden he got distant,” you said reminiscing the best summer of your whole life you told the girls you pulled 6 boys the whole summer but that came at a cost, losing the one guy you loved

“you had a glow-up,” Taylor says looking at you and holding your hand

“yeah, she did” you see Jeremiah at Belly’s door frame which made you smile. they've been flirting back and forth

“are we ready,” Belly asked and you nodded

you all headed downstairs to see Susannah and Laurel in the kitchen probably stoned and said goodbye to them. when you arrived at the car Belly called shotgun which meant you and Taylor would sit in the back of Jeremiah’s Jeep.

“so y/n you're the driver tonight right” Jeremiah looked at you from the rearview mirror

“when am I not” you scoff looking out the window. it wasn’t a rude remark it was a sarcastic one because you don’t really do any substances. so it was common sense that you would drive

everyone in Cousins lived close to one another so it didn’t take long to hear the loud music and the screams coming from a house. the house was already spilling bright colors on the street making you excited. when Jeremiah finally parked he handed you the keys because one time he held onto them and lost them. it was a whole ordeal, you spent an extra hour at the house trying to find them when he had them in a random coat that was hung up by the front door.

“hey Steven is here” Taylor pointed out to his car seeing that they also just got here.

“who’s that next to him,” Belly asks as you were getting out of the car looking at your phone for any new notifications when you accidentally bump into a tall stature

“oh sorry,” you both say looking at each other

"con what is wrong with you" you yelled at him. it was no use when he was in his own world he stayed there for at least a week. usually, you could get him out, but something was different that summer, you couldn't change him

"leave me alone" Conrad yelled at you, he was running up the stairs and the next thing you heard was his door closed shut. it was hard to miss, it echoed all over the house

"I'm so sorry for him," Susannah said.

the plan that day was to go watch a movie that was playing in the drive-in and then play at the beach with the whole group and watch the tide as you and Conrad listened to the music and possibly help you surf. but all that went down the drain and you didn't even know why.

“conrad” you say looking to meet his gaze.

“Conrad is here, y/n let’s go, no,” Taylor says screaming ready for you to get into the car making him laugh which you missed hearing

“Taylor it’s ok,” you say as she is getting out of the car with a stank face already plastered on

“hi Conrad,” she says moving her way in between the two of you and grabbing your hand to drag you to the party

as you were getting dragged into the party you were greeted by a group of people already by the door and a couple making out at the end of the hall

“hey I'm going to go get a drink” Taylor yells at you trying to get her voice to be heard over the music. you on the other hand were ready to go to the living room just to people watch

the thing was when you were at parties you would straight b-line to the living room because although people liked to conversate, that is the last place they would go. You liked to sit there and try to find other drivers there and you would make friends with them. It was hard to talk to a drunk person because they were boring and slur their words together. Today you saw Cameron, he is always there. You grew to like him like it was hard to anyway. He was so nice and you both had things in common.

"hey" you heard his little smile in his voice

"hi cam," you say receiving a bottle of water he got you

"so who are you here tonight with" cam asked you

"Jeremiah, Taylor, and Belly," you say

"so Conrad is still being weird," cam asked

"yeah," you said a bit disappointed. you told Cam everything because he was there and being sober at a party is pretty boring

"that's weird because he is staring at us," Cam says looking over at him; making you follow his gaze. Conrad had this weird look on his face, his eyes were dark, but it wasn't because of the lighting it was something else. hatred? you brushed it off he isn't your problem, never will be.

"y/n want to play uno" Conrad yelled at you from the bottom of the stairs.

Uno was your favorite game to play at Susannah's house in the summer. It was always perfect. The adults were never there so it would make you feel comfortable with everyone else. It was when you would sit next to Conrad before he was unavailable and you two would team up without everyone knowing. In reality, everyone knew. and you both would win. you would take turns on who would win to make it seem "less" suspicious.

"so" cam says snapping you from your haze

"right duh" you laugh grabbing the mini uno you would always carry it around because it helped you make friends with people

"ooo can we play" Some random girls joined in and you said yes because you had no real reason to say no, plus uno is best played with more than two

"I'll join too," Conrad says gripping his beer rather firmly. he sat next to you on the couch ready to get the cards you shuffled.

when the games began you kept beating everyone. the games were simple, leave the best cards until the very end, unless and only if you ever need them, then go for it.

bzzz bzzz

you quickly checked the notification that came from your phone trying to not miss what was going on in the game.

"who is it" conrad asks his jaw clenching

"no one," you say giving him a weak smile, it was also none of his business because he doesn't care about you anymore

"sure" Conrad says putting a plus four that is directed towards you. so this is how he wanted to play the game? you grabbed the four cards, getting nothing that would help you against him. it was Cam's turn and he put reverse to try to protect you from Conrad

"your little boyfriend is now your new buddy," Conrad questioned under his breath

"not like you give a shit" you retort back

"you are so clueless," Conrad says making you the most confused person at the party. you just continued to play after the game ended you decided you wanted a coke. so you got up and told Cam you would be back for another round

you walked through crowded groups and at one point you saw Belly makeout with Jeremiah. taking note of that to bring up later. You than saw Taylor with another man who looked like three years older than her. When you finally got your coke you opened it taking a sip going back to the couch

"oh fuck" you let out spilling some of the coke onto your white tube top.

"sorry" you hear a familiar voice come out it was Conrad.

"we have to stop doing this or else we might actually get hurt," you say smiling at the way Conrad was trying to get napkins to clean the mess up. It was no use. your shirt was ruined.

"it's the universe trying to get us together" Conrad blurted out "I'm drunk" he tried to fix the situation, but he was never drunk, he was only ever tipsy.

"drunk words are just sober thoughts" you say looking down at your shorts to see if they were dirty.

"can we talk" conrad asks looking down at you

"yeah" you smile at him

he grabbed your hand and led you outside to the front yard where there were only a couple of people out. he saw that the stain on your shirt only got worse so he gave you his button-up shirt that he never lets go of.

"what's up," you say to him

"the stars look beautiful don't they" conrad was looking up

as a kid, you were obsessed with the moon and the stars. you had a friend that was the stars to your moon. you missed her, and you kept in touch but if you could you would bring her to Cousins. you would always talk about her to the others, knowing they would love her as well. You also face-timed her all the time. Conrad would get mad, saying that you were his for the summer and that she has you all year round. that she was selfish

"it's my time," Conrad says to your friend who was on your phone screen

"con give me my phone," you say slapping him and tugging at his hand

"it's summer byeee" he says as he pressed the red button on the phone

"i hate you," you say to him

"in your sweet dreams you do," he says cockily

"Conrad I thought this was going to be more of a serious conversation," you say trying to shake the idea of the summers you once had with the man standing in front of you

"I miss you," he says to you. sober thoughts. it took you aback it wasn't something you expected from him

"that isn't my fault," you say back with an attitude

"i know, i just got jealous" he said to you

"jealous of what con" he could have grabbed you and kissed you on the spot. he missed that name from your mouth. he craved it every day to the point he would replay voice memos you would send to him back when you two would speak

"of other guys," he said looking into your eyes to see if he scared you off, but all he saw was your face brightening up

"you were the only person on my mind con," you said to him grabbing his hand. if this was a dream, never wake him up. "you were the only thing coming out of my mouth when I was at school, all the guys that you saw hit me up are left on seen, I wanted you, I want you, I always have" you say looking at his face finally tug at his lips to form a smile

"good because I don't want to share," he says leaning down ready to kiss you. As he did he wrapped one arm around your waist the other in your hair tugging at it as you were smiling through the kiss and your hands on both his cheeks.

"get a room" Steven yelled at you two, leading Conrad to release the hand that was in your hair and flipping him off. making you laugh while you both kissed.

"let's get out of here," Conrad said to you

"i can't," you said, you had a job

"fuck the others Steven can drive them," he said in a way that he just wanted you to be by his side

"but how will they get home" you try to reason

"Steven has his keys c'mon let's go to my house, please" he kisses the top of your forehead.

"fine, but if they complain that is your fault," you say pointing at him

"that is fine by me," he says carrying you to spin you around

as you two were getting in the Jeep you started to fasten your seatbelt as Conrad did the same. He looked over at you, seeing how you adjusted the mirrors to get all the angles.

"I think this is the first time I see you drive," he says admiring you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear

"get used to it con," you say looking at him, melting at his touch

"Oh I will" he whispered

you started the car, you hated driving the Jeep it was so big and excessive. But desperate times call for desperate measures. You played some music in the car for the six-minute car ride. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you the whole time, seeing how you turned and how you checked the mirrors.

as you arrive at their house you park the car and let him get out, you were collecting your things in the car to get out when Conrad opens the door for you.

"thank you" you smile, he closes the door behind you and you lock the car. he holds your hand as he heads over to the front door to open it

"hi conrad" you hear Susannah

"hi y/n nice seeing you two together again," Laurel says from the couch

"glad to be back" you smile at the two adults

"oh you are so beautiful, we missed you," Susannah said

"thank you I missed you too" you smile and let go of Conrad's hand to hug her. She was always so sweet to you

"Mom, she's mine back off, we're going to my room" Conrad says taking your hand again

"bye talk to you guys later" you scream as Conrad is dragging you upstairs

once you got upstairs you see Conrad's door. he opened it with his free hand and led you in. It was still the same. the beach aesthetic and the colors. He had the plush you gave him. it was an orange cat with a pink collar, you named it Lasnaga and you had an orange cat with a blue collar named Garfield. it was funnier when you actually named them.

"oh ignore that" he said looking at the cat

"you still have it" you question, a smile forming on your face

"yeah" it looked like he slept with it and he even still had the perfume you gifted him it was now half empty

"I miss you" you heard from the other line of your phone

"I miss you too," you say back, it was almost Christmas and it was a time when you wished you could go to Cousins, but your mom would say no. "I got you a Christmas present," you say smiling through the camera lens

"yeah, I got it, thank you" One of the gifts was a perfume bottle, it smelled like vanilla and it was your go-to scent "Thank you" Conrad says

"I don't use that scent anymore," you say picking it up

"what" Conrad looked defeated, he was spraying that scent to remember you and you switched scents. he felt betrayed

"I'll get you a new one for Christmas" You smile at him grabbing his hands which made his smile come back

"y/n" he grabbed your attention using his pointer finger to make you look at him

"yes con" one moment you were just staring at his eyes the next thing you knew Conrad was leaning in to kiss you. this kiss was more meaningful as if to pick up from lost time, from the time that was wasted on jealousy and insecurity, because even though it wasn't official that you were Conrad's, you both knew you were meant for one another

Conrad's hands went back to their respective place, one in your hair and the other around your waist. yours were on his cheek and the other in his hair.

"fuck I missed you," he says catching his breath from the kiss

conrad went back but deepened the kiss, it was something that made you happy. You kept smiling through the kiss. you couldn't believe this was happening. Conrad pulled at your hair to make you moan so he could slip his tongue in and fight for dominance, he obviously won; you were still smiling throughout the make out because you couldn’t believe what was happening. Conrad guided you to his bed, he sat on the corner making you straddle his lap.

"are you ok with this," Conrad asked pulling away from the kiss, you could see some of your lipstick on his mouth

"yes, god fuck yes Conrad," you say giggling at the way his face quickly erased his worriedness to pure excitement

Conrad continued his attack, but this time it was on your neck, making sure it would show to others that you were his, that even though people haven't seen you both together for almost two years, you guys are better than ever. Conrad tugged and took off the button-down that he gave you and the dirty tube top. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, and Conrad couldn't be more excited

Conrad carried you off the bed for a second and laid you down on his bed. your hair was perfectly sprawled on the pillow as if it made a halo. Conrad could’ve sworn he saw a little heart that was made from your hair. as you waited for Conrad to take his shirt you got the cat to play around with.

"you're so beautiful," Conrad says going down to kiss you

when he pulls away he takes off your shorts and shoes followed by your socks making you giggle at his fast antics. you were wearing a lace thong that was pink making Conrad smile.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours,” you say reaching for Conrad's face as he melts into your touch, practically purring.

"you, you're all I think about" Conrad says smiling at you his hand traveling down to your thighs removing your panties too, and then he feels how wet you already are. he licked his two fingers as a lubricant and started to finger you. he slipped two fingers in seeing how tight you were and kept pacing in and out. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to his room. he looked at your face seeing how it contoured to the way the rhythm, then added more stimulation by massaging your clit.

"fuck Conrad, so good," you say almost screaming as you scratch his back with your nails

"shhh, look at me" Conrad says covering your mouth, but he loved the way your eyes looked at him "Sound so pretty but they can't hear you or the fun is over," he says leaning in to kiss you to muffle your screams.

Conrad soon leaves your mouth to go to your tits to suck on as you grab his hair for extra support. you tugged once and heard a yelp, making you want to fuck him already

he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. As he did you gasped, you kept your nails on his back almost drawing blood. conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the process up. he needed you.

“god you’re so tight” he says looking at you with lust filled eyes

Conrad added a third finger as he saw you were about to release and reattached his lips onto yours wanting the fun to continue. he saw the way your body arched off the bed and made sure to continue the pace you were on. to make you orgasm

“look so pretty, come for me” he said spurring you on

“fuck conny” you say pulling at his hair to kiss you and something inside you snapped when he kissed you. you were leaking off his finger. when he looked down in between the two of you he saw the mess grabbing some of your liquid and putting it in your mouth

“fuck so hot” he said going in to kiss you tasting you as well

“my turn” you say with your fucked up makeup and some of your cum on the side of your mouth

“no i just really need you right now” conrad says taking his pants and underwear off as well as everything else.

“i want to be on top” you say to him biting the bottom of your lip

“whatever you want pretty girl” he says grabbing you and putting you on top of him

once you were on top of him you saw how big he was. you grabbed his member massaged him than started to glide him into your heat seeing how he threw his head back in pure pleasure

“stop teasing” he said grabbing onto your wrists and leading his length to your heat

“fuck fisher” you said mad he took all the fun out

“i’m trying to” he retorted making you laugh but that made you sink into him and turned into a loud pornagraphic moan making Conrad startled soon hearing footsteps leading to the door and a knock

“conny is everything ok” you could hear Susannah but this made the experience even better you fucked him up and down side to side to try to make it hard for him to answer his mom

“y-yeah everything is good there’s a porn scene on the horror movie we were watching- fuck” he said yelling to his mom

“oh ok” she says retreating backstairs

“you’re so dead” conrad said to you, but he never meant it. you looked so beautiful riding him as your boobs bounced up and down and saw how your hair was messily parted to the side and fell beautifully over your body. he knew you knew you looked great by the way you bit the bottom of your lip

“god you’re so big” you say looking down at him. putting your hand on his chest for extra support

he couldn’t help admire you. how your tits would go up and down and he had to massage them with his hand. the other was on your waist wanting you to go faster, but he just made your body lay against his as he took your lips with his teeth. his hand that was once on your tits went to your hair and tugged on it earning a low moan from you. the other traced his name on your back adding tickles to make you moan and hopefully come close. once he noticed your body become sloppy he held onto your waist and switched positions with him

“holy fuck that was hot” you said out loud to him

“only for you” he says leaning into your neck to suck on your sweet spot making you moan even more

he saw the way your hair fell back on his pillow. the image he once had of you will forever be tainted by this memory. the memory of him fucking you into oblivion. how his penis would go in and out of you seeing his length covered in white paint from the two of you

he didn’t know that you liked the way his hair fell from his forehead and floated in the air as he fucked you. how his arms would be veiny and how you followed them like a dog to bacon. that every time he wanted to show you something you just looked at his hands.

“fuck me harder” you said to Conrad as you dragged his face to yours to go in for a kiss. he took his free hand and started to massage your clit wanting you to come already.

“come for me again, want to see you come on my dick” he said so close to your face that his hair tickled you, his breath as well. “need you to come for me” his blue eyes following yours and how they were sparkling from pure euphoria

with one last thrust you came for him. his lips covering your mouth and when you were done moaning. his mouth was on your chin ready for another hickey. he nibbled at it. when his thrusts started to become sloppy you started to nibble at his ear. moaning in it to spur him on and saying sweet nothings like “god you’re so big” “taking me so good” “fuck me just like that”

“im yours conny, only yours” was the one that made him shoot his load into you

“oh fuck i’m so sorry” he said as he still kept thrusting into you coming down from his high

“don’t worry about it i’m on the pill” you say looking at his fucked out face and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear

he leaned in to kiss you deepening the kiss he felt the cum that was leaking outside the two of you. when he was ready to let go you bit the bottom of his lip to see what he would do

“god you’re all i need” Conrad said going back to kiss you. when you both got out of breathe he went into his bathroom to get a cloth to clean you up

“you look beautiful from this angle” Conrad looked at you wanting to take a picture of the way your legs were open for him as the liquid oozed out of you

“get used to it” you said to him as he cleaned you up. he smiled at the thought that this wasn’t a one time thing

“oh i will” he says going to your face and peppering your face with kisses all over

he went over to a drawer he had always designated to you. it had some clothes that you left there when you would stay over. he handed you some shorts you always wore when you were here that did nothing but show your ass, but they were cute; they were white with pink polka dots and tossed you a shirt that was Conrad’s but you always used to use it because it was baggy and had your home state with it.

“i don’t want to wear that shirt today” you said

“what why” Conrad asked puzzled he didn’t do anything to that shirt

“you wear it, not in the mood to wear a shirt” you say to him mischievously. he took the hint as he was putting on some shorts and was ready to go under the covers of his bed making you follow behind

“than neither am i” he said kissing your forehead “some makeup wipes are on the nightstand by the way” he says pointing at the drawer next to you

“thank you” you say taking one and wiping your face off when you were done you threw it away in the trash can that was next to you

“so you never forgot me did you” you asked as you were going to cuddle his chest

“no never” he said looking down at you as he was turning the tv on to watch superbad one of your favorites

“and you never forgot about my things did you” you say giddily seeing what he was doing

“nope, i watched this every time i missed you” he said it as a matter of fact

“kiss me” you say out loud. and he did he leaned down to kiss you as you waited for the movie to load in. he was so delicate this time as if what he did was not him and someone else. that he would always be delicate with you

“you’re all i ever wanted” he said whispering it into you making you smile as the movie played.

you both laughed at the scenes. this movie has seen it all: your childhood, Conrad being by himself without you , and the two of you after you fucked each other. when another funny scene happened and you didn’t laugh Conrad looked down to see you asleep in his arms. your boobs were pressed against his chest and he decided it was time for him to go to sleep as well.

in the morning it was Conrad who woke up first from the rays of the sun. he then saw his clock and saw that it was only 9 am. he decided to just look at you sleep. how you would breathe and how you looked in his arms. the little smile on your face as your dream progressed. god he wished that was him making you smile. Conrad reached for his phone to take a picture of you. knowing this would be a perfect wallpaper. the way the hickeys he left on you were now visible. how you had no makeup but your hair was still as perfect as it was last night and this time noticing the locket necklace he got you from when you were kids on your thirteenth birthday

“thank you Conrad” you say hugging him once you finished opening the box that held the necklace. it was a picture of the two of you from when you were younger when you were both about seven and six.

“you’re welcome. you were practically begging for one all year” he said glad you liked his gift and ever since than you never took it off

he was infatuated with you.

“i’ll never forget you” Conrad whispered into your hair kissing the top of your head

“hey” you say in a raspy voice

“morning” he said back with a big grin on his face

“smells good” you could smell the muffins from downstairs. making Conrad laugh. he looked at you for about thirty minutes admiring you and the first thing you think about is food? “you look pretty con” you said kissing his lips. his hair was messy and his eyes were brighter today. he looked happy.

“so do you” he said smiling at you. if only you knew.

“what time is it” you ask finally rubbing your eyes. when you were done Conrad gave you his phone to look at the clock but the first thing you saw was you. the photo he took this morning. “con did you take this right now” you asked looking into his eyes

“yes do you like it” he asked looking to see if you were mad but he only saw a smile form on your face

“it’s cute i need one now too” you say trying to let go of his grip to get up and get a muffin

“no stay” he says grumpy

“i need one of those muffins, i’ll come back” you say prying at his hands

“fine i’ll race you” he says getting up and trying to find a shirt as you do the same when you did. you ran out the door fighting Conrad downstairs almost falling like ten times.

“woah” you here from downstairs

“i thought we were going to go into war right now” Jeremiah joked

“shut up” Conrad said hitting Jeremiah’s chest

“oh hey y/n didn’t know you were still here” Laurel said

“yeah I accidentally fell asleep to superbad” you say which wasn’t a lie. it was hard to lie to Laurel she could smell bullshit from a mile away.

“wait what happened between you guys” Taylor asked looking at your neck making you hide your hickeys with your hair

“nothing, we just made up” you said looking at her and the last muffin

“more like made out” Belly added which made you send her a death stare which caused you to lose the muffin to Conrad

“fuck you” you whisper to him

“oh but you already did” he said with the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he eats the muffin. when you hit his stomach he hands over the muffin with a loud groan

“thank you” you say kissing him

“eww get a room” Jeremiah said

“we just came out of one” Conrad said as quick as the speed of light making you look at him with wide eyes

“I missed this” Susannah said “y’know ever since you left y/n he has never been this chipper”

“is that so” you say looking at Conrad all this time you thought he was fine especially with all the girls he dated

“so true” Steven added

“we missed you” Belly said. she meant it in the way you could finally be in the same room as all of them without having to walk on eggshells “also Cam told me to give you this” it was your uno cards from the other night

“thank you” you smile at her

“give me another bite” Conrad said as he wraps his arms around your waist and you practically feed him “thank you” he said which followed by an mhm coming from your mouth

“want to go to the beach later” you asked looking up at him to see if he would agree or not

“sure” he replied. making you already excited and smiling back at the muffin before taking a bite and feeding another piece to Conrad

“can we go at night” he questioned

“and skinny dip” you whispered for only him to hear which made him already look forward to see the moon.

“this is seriously cute” Taylor says to Belly who nods

“i love you” Conrad said to you kissing the top of your head as he saw how everyone was so welcoming of the new couple

“i love you more” you say looking up at him which made him kiss you

—-

a/n: part two..??

3K notes · View notes

suengmi · 1 year

Text

- the ways stray kids show their love and affection

genre: fluff/romance, nonidol!au, gn!reader warnings: mentions of making out, nakedness? idk lol

anyways this is just major soft hours, one of my moots said i should do this i can't remember who it was pls lmk if it was you asljdls also unedited

♡ masterlist / pls reblog if you liked! it helps a lot ♡

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ bang chan

sweet kisses all over your face to wake you up, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling you. “i’m bored wake up babe.” grunts when you ignore him. ends up pulling the sheets back so your naked body is exposed to the cold. “that’s what you get.” gets salty but then feels bad, covering you up again, then he really wakes you up. back hugs when you’re cooking for him. whining whenever you don’t pay attention to him, tugging at the edge of your shirt. sulks when you say you’re busy. doesn’t give a fuck about how clingy he is, but he knows you love it. holds your hand a little too hard when you’re walking together. kiss attacks always!!

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ lee know

stops you from crossing the street until he’s checked it. “stupid, look next time.” beats you twice in a board game but sees that you're sad that you’re not that good at it, but fails the third time just to see you smile and gloat about beating him. he loves seeing you happy, even if he has to purposely fail. leaves you notes everywhere, maybe just ‘i love yous’ mixed in with ‘i know you’ll forget this so don’t.’ text messages asking if you’ve eaten, and then getting mad and sending food to your door if you haven’t. swiftly kisses to the forehead aggressively saying you ‘deserve it’ but sounds like a threat. ‘you know i love you yeah?’ more aggressive kisses. ‘i won’t stop until you say you love me!!’

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ changbin

little wrestling matches on the couch, telling you that you’re silly for even trying. pulls you by the back of your hair if you’re not paying attention to him. “i left you the last piece of food.” always, always saves you the last piece no matter what it is. picks you up and throws you around, pretending he’s going to eat you bc apparently he’s a monster. but says you taste good so he doesn’t mind eating you. more wrestles. whenever you’re sad, he always cheers you up and never fails to make you laugh. does his trot impression of some old korean songs, full performance with your glitter jacket on that doesn’t fit him. ‘you still love me now? you better.’ knows you love being engulfed by him, so 90% of the time he is the big spoon. when he's feeling really romantic, he'll do a little picnic at the beach. always making sure it was at sunset because he knew it was your favourite time of the day.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ jisung

midnight trips to get take out, sitting in the car until 2am with both of your feet on the dashboard. ‘remember that time!’ always reminiscing about how you first met, nearly choking on your fries when you recall. kisses in the car, kisses in the house, kisses in the shower, kisses in the dark. ‘babe but i want it.’ chucks a tanty when you don’t buy him things. pouts and folds his arms. ‘if you loved me you would!’ holds the cuff of your jumper, mostly walking behind you whenever you go somewhere because he feels safe. morning calls, but especially night calls. he doesn’t care how you look at the end of the day, he just wants to see you and tell you he loves you. hiding himself in your jumper and saying there is enough room for two (when there isn't.)

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ hyunjin

taking you to art galleries, standing behind you with his head resting on yours. ends up putting his hands into your pockets from behind, cutely leading you around from the back. with hyunjin it’s not always words, sometimes it’s just his actions. he pushes your hair out of your face or tucks it behind your hair. mostly, he does your hair for you. always making sure your hair was out of your face because it annoyed you. brings you tea and sits with you if you’re studying or drawing or even watching tv, rubs your thigh gently to let you know that he doesn’t want to distract you, just shows you he wants to be with you. rubs your belly if you feel bloated and talks to it. 'you better stop being bloated or... i'll do something. idk what.' art dates!! always drawing together, even if you're shit he encourages you to keep going

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ seungmin

gently slips his fingers into yours without saying anything but smiling to himself when he sees you blush, he kind of loves that he makes you nervous. always taking the chance to make your cheeks tint pink. showers with seungmin, always washing your body and shampooing your hair for you, wet kisses in between. sometimes he’d gently press his nose on your naked skin, enjoying your scent but never admitting it. ‘it’s comforting’ he’d say in defence, ignoring you for the rest of the night. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, making sure you were safe no matter where you were. kisses to the forehead, the back of the hand, the back of your knees. seungmin doesn’t say it much, but he does love you. he shows it through everything else, knowing those words have such a weight to them.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ felix

‘are you gonna cook!?’ jumping up and down when you say yes, annoying you the whole time you’re cooking or baking. ‘is it done? i can’t wait to eat it!!’ eats half of the food before it’s even cooked because he says it’s ‘too good.’ little play fights that would begin from felix nibbling at your fingers and then at your thighs. ‘little gremlin’ you’d end up joking, rolling around on the floor, bodies all over each other, which would end in a heated make out session and clothes far gone. he’d send you random texts, of random things. ‘hey i saw this flower, it's cute, yeah?’ ‘this potato looks like you. it’s too cute to eat T-T’ ‘you think i could eat 11 hot dogs in two minutes? hmm maybe.’

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ jeongin

blowing raspberries on your tummy and holding you down. sometimes uses your foot as a telephone. ‘yes hello stinky foot line how can i stink you today?’ proceeds to try and hold your foot with his. 'shut up i can do it!!' probably be super sarcastic, mocking you when you tried to be cute with whatever you were saying. karaoke together, always singing out of pitch but though he’s laughing, encourages you to be more confident because he loves seeing you enjoy yourself. watches you sometimes, just admiring you but instantly whips his head around to pretend he wasn’t, head banging into something hanging from the wall. ‘mind your business’ he’d joke, walking away suspiciously.

♡ taglist: @blankdyean @l3visbby @daddyjoonchua @ipegchangbin @abcdefgiwsmcty ♡

3K notes · View notes

bluriki · 3 months

Text

ꪆৎ kiss me ﹫ lhs

; pair bf!heeseung x fem!reader ; sum heeseung just wants a kiss, well that and maybe to tease you too ; genre fluff , established relatioinship , not proofread

you stare at your phone, watching the video of some girl make slime. it brought back so many memories of when you were younger. you always tried to master the art of making slime, and you did master it. but suddenly the whole smile era ended and now, nobody really talks about it.

this video was reccomended to you and with nothing to do or watch you decided why not. you snack on some gummies heeseung had bought you a few days ago while watching the girl play with the pink slime. she says its so fluffy and soft and it brings you back to your childhood again, but suddenly those memories fly away when heeseung sits next to you.

"what are you doing?" he asks while wrapping his arms around your waist. he places his head on your shoulder and looks at your phone screen. you hear a small laugh escape his lips before he looks at you.

"why are you watching that?" you shrug and shift a bit. "oh you know, reminiscing my childhood memories." you lean against heeseung, letting him see your screen better. "oh and im eating the gummies you bought me, want some?"

heeseung shakes his head. his eyes land on the trace of your lips. you were just so perfect, so delicate. he loved pressing kisses against your lips. your lips were the definition of home to him. it might sound cheesy but it is what it is.

heeseung sometimes finds himself wanting to kiss you when he's stressed. just a small peck will do. he finds himself wanting to kiss you when he's happy. in his mind a longer kiss is better but if you pull away before he wants to he'll be content with the kiss he got.

so now, you reminiscing your old memories makes heeseung feel like he wants to kiss you. you have such a soft look right now. you hair is a bit messy, you're wearing his sweatshirt, and your wearing some sweats. you look really cuddly and heeseung just really wants to kiss you.

he leans closer to your face, not kissing you yet but close enough to press his lips against the tips of your mouth. you can feel his breath running against your cheek to your lips. you feel your cheeks flush, knowing exactly what heeseung is gonna do.

you take it upon yourself and turn around so your faces are right in front of each other. heeseung's faces flushes in surprise. you were never one to initiate a kiss. yeah, maybe you'd give him a peck on the cheek (on the lips if he's lucky) before you leave for work but that was different.

you slowly tilt your head and press your lips on his softly. you only like the soft kisses, nothing to crazy. and for your first time initiating a kiss, you wanted it to be the best kiss heeseung has ever had.

you slowly move your lips against his, moving your body so you can sit more comfortably. you feel heeseung smile against your lips before he takes control of your lips. he wraps an arm around your waist, the other on your neck, tilting you up so he can kiss you more.

one thing you noticed when kissing heeseung was the way he kisses. he let's himself go when he kisses you. he shows how much he loves you and even though no words are exchanged you know everything he's trying to tell you.

he holds you close as if you're gonna fly away. he knows you wont but the closer he is to you the better. when he pulls away he rests his forehead to yours. you often this he's trying to tell you he loves you again because his eyes always find yours and a smile always draws itself on his lips.

it's an image you wont ever forget. he's so beautiful, like an angel. he glows when he's with you. he glows with love.

"you kissed me first." he whispers, his lips barely touching yours. he pulls his forehead away from yours and looks at you with a shy expression, only you know he's anything but shy.

he pretends to put his hair behind his ear as he blinks quickly. "you kiss me first." he repeats in a shy voice. his eyes meet yours and he let's a smirk fall on his lips. you shoved him with your foot and scoot away from him.

"shut up." you turn your phone on again to watch your slime video but heeseung quickly takes it away. "did you really want to kiss me that bad?" you feel your cheeks flush at his words but you dont want to give into his teasing.

"not really, you were just there. it seemed as if you wanted to kiss me that bad." you notice heeseungs face falter for only a second. he puts his teasing expression back on his face and scoots closer to you.

he makes a kissy face while leaning in. "kiss me again." he says with his lips in a pout. you put your finger on his forehead and push him back. "let me watch my slime video, go away."

heeseung shakes his head. "not until you kiss me again, i know you really want to." he leans in again, his lips ghosting yours. "please? just one more." you roll your eyes and peck his lips.

"there, now go." heeseung smiles and gets up. "im writing this on the calendar, we're celebrating it every year." you chuckle at your boyfriend. maybe kissing him wasn't so bad, especially if he acts this happy.

🎬 노트 && . im not completely back, again writers block is killing me and so is school. so much stuff has happened these past few weeks. on the bright side i had a dream about hee last night, it was about him kissing me :D it wasnt quite like this but my dream inspired me so here we are!

🧷 perm tl && . send ask or comment to be added

#‎‎‎‎‎‎ 777 ৎ 리본 #k-labels #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung drabbles #heeseung fic #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung oneshots #heeseung scenarios #heeseung soft hours #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #heeseung blurbs #enhypen heeseung

453 notes · View notes

fanficsat12am · 4 months

Text

when the brothers realize how much MC loves them I Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜

Lucifer & Mammon

Happy New Year everyone!! Hope ya guys had a great flippin holiday time :> As always, notes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated <33 Have fun reading!!

Leviathan

Putting himself down was second nature to him at this point—sometimes he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It especially got even worse after getting into a relationship with you. His mind refused to believe that anyone could ever love someone like him.

Levi dreaded the day you’d finally see what he sees and ultimately decide to leave, but he wouldn't hold it against you. Why would you settle for someone like him when there were countless others in the three realms who could give you so much more…

“Hey, you okay?” you asked worriedly, noticing his glazed look and how his eyes had dimmed. “O-of course I’m fine! Pft, why would I be lol,” he stumbles out, trying to keep up his facade—but of course, you saw through it.

As he tries to get back to his game he can feel your eyes piercing him.

“I’m going to ask you how you are one more time and I would like you to answer me honestly,” gently taking the controller in his hands from him and placing it aside. “Now tell me, what’s up?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, the words not too foreign to his tongue.

“If this is about last week I've already told yo-” “Ugh, that’s not what I meant…” he cuts you off, trying to find the right words.

“I-it’s just…you could have had ANYBODY else, but instead you’re stuck with me. I can’t 1v1 Beel's body, Diavolo’s money, Asmo’s looks- heck even stupid Mammon’s got charm! I'm just Levi, the plain old third-born…” he bites his lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. His efforts proved futile as he felt its warm trickle slowly dripping down his face, one after the other.

A part of him wanted to take back everything he just said—to restart and pick a different approach. But this wasn’t another one of his games. This was real life, and in here you've only got one shot. It was game over, he knew he had lost.

He shut his eyes tight, listening closely for the sound of you finally walking out those doors. He couldn't bear to watch you leave him.

You shake your head at the absurdity of his words, cupping his face into your hand. “I’m not stuck with you, silly. I choose to be here.”

Opening his eyes back again he's met with you smiling at him, the sight making his heart skip a beat.

“I’m here because I can’t get enough of you. I love how your cheeks would go red when I catch you staring at me,” you say, leaning closer and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“How your brows would furrow and your eyes would squint whenever you’re focused on your game,” sending a kiss by the bridge of his nose.

You gently grab his wrist and fumble on the soft skin of his palms with the pads of your thumb. “How you’d start gesturing with your hands a lot when you talk about the latest anime you’re into,” you reminisce, another kiss now to the back of his hand.

“How right before you fall asleep, you hold me closer and whisper to the dead of the night how much you love me,” you say as you end it with a tender kiss to his lips.

“And each day I find myself falling for you even more. They could try to give me the whole world, but they’ll never be you. So please, stop thinking you need to earn my affection because you don't. Not now and not ever.”

You lift his face up to meet your gaze, looking at him as if you see right through him. “There is nothing I would change about you. You are perfect in my eyes.”

He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was left speechless, his mind going haywire with everything you had just said.

Seeing how his brain had completely stopped working, he let his body do all the talking instead. He wordlessly wrapped you in a tight embrace, cherishing the warmth of your body against his.

The bitter taste of the sin he was meant to represent felt absent. Levi sensed no need to be envious of others when he had someone like you to call his.

Satan

Not once had he let himself think that he could indulge himself in something such as love—for wrath did not deserve the peace of love. While love held everything together in its warm embrace, wrath tirelessly tore with its cold unforgiving hands.

Despite their differences, there was no denying that both were blind. Just like a moth, you were entranced by the beautiful embers of his flame, blissfully indifferent to the heat.

He stared at his reflection with disdain. The obsidian black horns adorning his head felt heavier the longer he looked, not to mention the tail that whipped mindlessly on its own. He gritted his teeth in disgust, delivering a blow to the mirror that sent it hurdling to the ground. Through his ragged breaths and the rapid beating of his heart, he hears a voice not of his own.

"Satan?" you called, breaking him from his trance-like state. You softly closed his door behind you, hands outstretched and unsteady.

With each step you took, he took two back—his mind screaming at him to stay away from you but his heart yearning to leap into your hold.

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured, taking a step towards him.

"No it's not!" he screams, backing away from your approaching form.

Hearing the crunch of glass under the weight of his shoes, he takes notice of the mirror he broke just moments ago. Reflected on its cracked surface was a distorted image of him; a monster.

"Please, let me help," you pleaded, trying to close the gap between you. He hastily steps back, tripping on his own feet and leaving him a heap on the floor.

"Don't come any closer!" he screams, the room shaking with the sheer volume of his voice. You kneel to his level, quickly engulfing him in your arms.

‘Run. He doesn't deserve you. Just stay away.’ He repeated in his head like a silent prayer, hoping that by some miracle it would come true.

But as he felt you hold him tighter, he knew you would do nothing of the sort. As he trembled in your arms, he wills himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day you'd started dating.

"Why?" he whispered softly, almost inaudible if not for the heavy silence of the night. "I could lose control. Why do you insist on staying? To even consider feeling anything for a monster such as myself is just…foolish."

You think about your answer carefully, knowing that what you say next will mend or break the man in your hold. "Loving someone takes courage. To trust someone with your heart and believe they would keep it safe. Keep you safe. Let the three realms call me foolish but there's no doubt in my mind that I love you, Satan. Not the Avatar of Wrath, you Satan,'' you answer truthfully, pouring every ounce of your heart into each word.

Gently taking hold of his chin, you tilt his head up to meet your eyes. "Tell me now Satan, will you hurt me?" you ask, the demon shaking his head immediately. He wouldn't dream of ever wishing to cause harm to you. He would die first before anybody, let alone himself, hurt you.

"Then it is not foolish of me to love you" you say, your words unfaltering.

Tears welled in his eyes, accepting defeat at the hands of your love and melting deeper into your embrace. As he lays on your chest, he turns to face where your heart would be and whispers an oath. "I love you, MC. I shall protect you with my life" he vows, sealing his promise with a kiss.

Asmodeus

As the Avatar of Lust and the Jewel of the Heavens, he was always the talk of the town. You, on the other hand, weren’t too familiar with the gossip world. Although you knew that was going to change once you officially became a couple.

You took no mind to it, brushing them off with a small wave knowing that the wrong move could only add more oil to their flame. But Asmo wasn’t like you. He could feel all the looks they gave him, the incessant whispers and murmurs whenever he’d turn his back.

He typically had no care for whatever lies people have heard about him. The same could not be said though when they had the audacity to include you into the mix. It was slowly chewing away at him and he couldn’t deny the pit of doubt slowly churning inside him.

“I saw MC out with one of the brothers last week. They’ve been getting closer recently. I wonder what happened between them"

"I saw them leaving school with Simeon yesterday, I’m surprised that’d cheat on Asmo with someone like him”

”They’ve got the most powerful people of the Devildom wrapped around their finger and they’re still with Asmo? Damn”

The final blow was realizing that everything was better without him in the picture. Your smile wasn't just bright, it was brighter, you weren't just happy, you were happier.

He slams his door shut, sliding down the wooden surface as he feels his legs give underneath him.

‘Can’t you see? They were never the problem. No matter what you do, you could never satisfy them. Once again you've proved to be useless.’

‘You think they’d just be swayed by your face? By the number of followers you have? Underneath it all you're nothing. It's just pathetic.’

He shook his head, gripping and pulling on his delicate sand blonde hair. No matter how hard he cupped his hands over his ears, their words never ceased. His eyes pricked with tears, months of silent torture finally finding his moment of weakness.

You on the other hand were beyond worried. You were no stranger to Asmo’s flamboyant walk outs but this was different. As you neared the door to his room, you could hear silent sobs and cries on the other side. Knocking softly, you worriedly call out to him.

“Asmo?” The sobbing stops, rendering the halls eerily silent. “Darling, what’s wrong? Can I come in?” Still no response.

Asmo freezes at the sound of your voice, the loud thumping of his heart drowning out the constant knocking on his door. An internal conflict rages within him. Not only is the person causing all this mess of emotions on the other side of the door, but the only one who can make it all go away as well.

“Please talk to me. I need to know that you’re alright.” Just as you’re deciding if you should get some help from the others, the door opens. From it, a hand grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you inside and closing the door.

Looking around, the usually bright and pinkish room was cold and dark. You could barely see anything with the only light coming from his window.

The crisp silence of the night was cut by the uneven breathing of Asmo who was still by the door. You reach out to gently place a hand on his shoulder.

“Sweetie?” you call, fingertips only a few milliliters away, when his voice stops you in your tracks.

“Do you love me?” he whispers.

“Of course I do,” you answer immediately, not missing a beat.

You gently grab him by the shoulder and turn him to face you, your heart breaking at the sight of your lover being in so much turmoil.

“Oh, Asmo…” your hand tenderly holds his cheek, the other wiping away the tears that have yet to cease from falling.

“Each day, I hear another rumor about you finding somebody else…” he pauses, taking a deep shuddering breath. “If you’re going to do it, please just do it already and save me the mascara.”

He knows that watching you leave will hurt more than any hangover can ever do to him. It would be like he was falling from the pristine white gates of Celestia again, powerless as he saw all he held dear fade into a memory of what he had once had.

He could try to convince himself that the rumors were true. That you were only ever with him for his fame and looks and that he never cared about you. But of all the lies that have circulated, that would have been the biggest one.

“Honey, I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever,” you say as you tuck a lock behind his ear. “If you think I’d ever love someone after you then I have failed in showing you how much you mean to me.”

Through blurred vision, Asmo tries to find an ounce of deceit within the windows to your soul; a malicious grin, a break in eye contact, a drop of sweat. Nothing.

He lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding, pressing his soft hands upon your own and interlacing it with his. It was stupid of him to ever doubt your feelings for him. To hell with what they thought of the both of you. All he cared about now was now, being here in your hold, forever.

“You’re so cute sometimes, darling…" he whispers in amusement, a small smile finally making its way onto his lips.

“Please tell me I still look fabulous even after all that tears. Ugh, my eyes are gonna be so puffed up tomorrow!”

You chuckle at his comment, happy to see him start coming back to you. “Still ever so stunning, My Prince.”

“Let’s stay like this for just a bit more, hm? All this crying made me tired. Then after, we can run a nice warm bath for the two of us. Doesn't that sound wonderful?” He murmured, melting more into your touch.

“Whatever you’d like, darling,” you replied, pressing your forehead to his.

And there you stayed, forehead to forehead, hands intertwined, just you and him in the comfort of each other's touch.

AN: Thanks a bunch for reading!! Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments <33

665 notes · View notes

4mnji · 19 days

Text

OPPOSITES ATTRACT ᡣ𐭩 goth!choso x coquette!reader

warnings: nothing to heavy just some kissing n ass touching at the end, choso n reader r like 20, abbreviations and lowercases intended, n word usage once, written with a black women in mind but anyone can read ofc 😚

wc: 628

a/n : hihi guysss im nini and welcome to my debut post. this has been sitting in my notes along with some other stuff i’ve written for the longestttt time and im ready to share them to the world now. i hope yall enjoy these hcs of my bbygirl choso :3

goth!choso who’s been well..emo for as long as he can remember. the nigga was 13 years old dressing like rodrick heffley and listening to heavy metal rock music 😭 like he wasn’t playing bout this lifestyle.

goth!choso who always thought that his future gf would’ve been someone who is just as emo and gothic as he was but boy was he wrong.

goth!choso who couldn’t explain why coquette!reader caught his attention so quickly. he’s never been a fan of the cute pink girly aesthetic, not that he hated it but y’all know he been an emo since he basically came out his momma’s womb, so he always preferred if girls had a similar aesthetic to him. all that didn’t even cross his mind when he laid his eyes on u, how could it when u just looked so pretty n cute ???!

goth!choso who wasn’t even planning to approach u and was just going to head home and lie in his bed while reminiscing abt the cute girl he saw in the cafe. that is until u decided to approach him and compliment his outfit. a cute pink blush creeps up onto his cheeks and he doesn’t even get to thank u bc he so busy admiring how beautiful u are. u give him a gorgeous smile and hand him a little note that says “text me •ᴗ•” with ur number on it. with that beautiful smile still plastered on ur face, u wave ‘bye’ to him and walk away.

goth!choso who gets home that day contemplating with his phone in his hand if he should text u or not. after a good 10 mins of pacing around his room and giving himself some motivational talk, he sends u a message and exits the messaging app almost immediately.

goth!choso who’s kinda surprised when u actually respond to his message in less than 2 minutes. from that point on u n choso hit it off from there.

goth!choso who’s been with coquette!reader for almost a year now and he loves u so so much !! he was always more than happy to give u money so u could buy more of those cute lil bows and accessories that u loved wearing or those pink coquette themed decor items that u loved placing all throughout ur apartment. he adored ur obsession with the coquette lifestyle sm. he thought it was so adorable and loved ur dedication towards it.

goth!choso who has grown accustomed to the color pink and even started wearing n buying more pink clothing just so he could match with u sometimes. u knew ur bf wasn’t a huge fan of pink and u always thought he would stick with his dark aesthetic so it made u extremely happy when u saw him frequently starting to wear pink clothing !

goth!choso who has begged u numerous times to try out the emo/gothic style bc he was really curious to see how u would look in it. eventually u caved in and decided to surprise him and got this outfit and wore it to one of ur date nights with him. he couldn’t get over how good u looked and this just confirmed for him that u would always look good no matter what aesthetic u had !! when he took u back to his apartment, he wouldn’t even let yall get through the door before he picked u up, hands rubbing all up on ur ass while he left long sloppy kisses along ur jawline and neck, attempting to take u to his room without bumping into a wall or a piece of furniture.

goth!choso & coquette!reader who r the exact definition of opposites attract !!

moodboards ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

335 notes · View notes

fyorina · 6 days

Text

ᡣ𐭩 TO SOMEONE FROM A WARM CLIMATE

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're with him. you're actually with him. everything all of the other dazais have got to experience, he now can too. in his exhilaration, he almost forgets about the threats lurking on the horizon. until you slap him in the face with it, that is. {wordcount: 18k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART THREEEEEEE i had a particularly terrible day today guys hahahh literally everything that could go wrong went wrong </3 i'm very tired, but i hope you guys enjoy this installment. for all of u who read badlands, we have a very anticipated parallel scene in this one. + i added a little surprise pov at the end heheh

GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. + we have a bit more of unhinged thought processes on dazai's end which becomes particularly apparent during one of these scenes. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

You wake up from what might be the best sleep of your life to the sun peeking through the blinds of an unfamiliar bedroom.

It takes a few moments for you to regain your bearings, yawning and stretching as you sit up in the bed, trying to figure out where you are. It’s fancy, fancier than anything you’ve ever come across before. The dark sheets are soft and silky against your skin, you swear that this must be what clouds feel like. The room itself is a bit odd—large but empty, there’s a dresser on the far wall and a nightstand next to the bed, but there are no trinkets or knick knacks that usually litter a person’s bedroom. It’s almost reminiscent of a hotel room, you think.

Your gaze drifts over to the side, where a vast window looks over the city. You can hardly see the view through the blinds, but you can tell you’re high enough that only clouds can be seen below, no sign of the bustling city that you know rests beneath you. Your hazy mind starts to remember what happened last night: the club, the convenience store, your apartment, the leak. Dazai.

Dazai.

Your face immediately feels hot, hand coming up to curl your fingers around your mouth as you realize whose room you’re in. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously even though you know he’s not in here with you. You wonder what time it is, you reach around for your phone to check but you must’ve dropped it somewhere in your exhaustion last night—hopefully somewhere in his apartment (can this even be considered an apartment? it’s huge!) Maybe he’s waiting for you out in the main room of his penthouse, you hope he is. You also hope that he got some sleep last night, you remember that he insisted for you to take the bed but you still feel bad that you usurped his room from him.

… Although it’s not much of a room. Big and fancy with a view that costs more than your life, yeah, but nothing that makes it his. Like a husk. A house, not a home. The bed doesn’t even smell like him—well, you can’t say you know for sure what he smells like besides the cologne he sported in your past few meetings with him, but you know it doesn’t smell like him because it doesn’t smell like anything. Only the faint smell of old detergent meets your nose, not a single other sign that someone has been living here.

You push the covers off of you and swing your feet over the side of the bed, stretching again as you kick your feet out with another yawn. You think this might be the first time in months that you haven’t woken up with an aching back or sore neck and you can’t help but cast a longing look back at Dazai’s bed, wishing you could steal it and drag it back to your apartment to replace your ruined bed.

You don’t bother changing as you drag your way out of his bedroom; you’re decent enough in a burgundy camisole and matching pair of shorts. Yes, you’d chosen your nicer pajamas because yes, you’d still been hoping maybe something would happen between the two of you. You hadn’t realized how hard the exhaustion was going to hit until too late.

Maybe something can still happen, you giggle a bit to yourself as you open the door to his apartment and then stop yourself immediately, horrified at yourself. You wonder when you became like this. You swear you don’t usually go around desperate for sex like this, you feel like a bit embarrassed, honestly, that your train of thought keeps leading this way but you blame Dazai because he’s plain cruel for flirting with you as intimately as he does without even sparing you a kiss. It’s like he’s trying to drive you crazy. You’re becoming even more convinced that the man set some sort of spell over you.

“Gooooood morning!” you sing, your voice still tinged with sleep as you exit the bedroom and catch sight of the object of your desires lounging back on the dark couch in the main room of his penthouse—penthouse, insanity—typing away at his phone with a frown. He’s dressed in the same outfit he was in last night, which is also the same outfit that he wore last week, and every other week before that—you wonder if he just didn’t change or if he has a dozen pairs of the same outfit.

Dazai doesn’t respond, gaze cutting upward, a bit too wide to be casual. The expression on his face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between shock and an emotion you can’t quite place, but it’s softer, you think, maybe a bit sadder too. You brush it off, wondering if he forgot you were here, which would be embarrassing but also a bit ridiculous. So, you think that maybe you just look like a mess after waking up. You should have brushed your hair before coming out of the room, you don’t even know if you brought a brush with you last night. You can’t remember.

You plop yourself down onto the couch next to him. Laying the side of your head against the cushions and curling up a bit, you position your body to face him as you say, “Your… apartment is so nice.” There’s a longing lilt to your voice as you speak. “If you’re not careful, I might never leave.”

It’s a joke, of course, you don’t want to intrude, but you think your life would be one hundred times easier if you were living in a place like this rather than your small, shitty apartment. Plus, you get a view and you’re not talking about the city. Dazai looks gorgeous beneath the mid-morning light, you think. Well, he’s been gorgeous every time you’ve seen him but you think especially so now, with the way his smooth skin glows and his dark eyes look almost gold beneath the sun rays, but you notice the dark bag beneath his visible eye and guiltily, you wonder if he got any sleep last night. He’d long abandoned his phone, attention on you, and you feel warm beneath his gaze.

“I don’t think I’d mind that all too much,” he murmurs, eye curved up as smiles softly.

You’re flustered, instantly, and your face feels hot as you avert your gaze to the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes focus on a familiar item sitting on it and you light up, reaching out for it. “My phone! You found it!”

You pull it toward you and unlock it, frowning when you realize that you must’ve left it open on your landlord’s contact information last night, trying to figure out what you should message him. You sigh as your tip your head back against the couch, realizing that you’re going to have to deal with all of this today. Fighting with your landlord about the leak, ordering a new mattress and a new laptop—god, you don’t even think you can afford that right now, you’re going to have to place a deposit down for your seat at school soon and then figure out tuition.

“You dropped it outside the room,” Dazai notes, drawing your attention back to him as he nods at the phone. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in years,” you sigh wistfully, letting your head fall to the side to look at him. “You have to tell me where you got your mattress. This is the first time I haven’t woken up with a shitty back in forever… especially considering I need a new one because my ceiling decided to drop gallons of water on my bed.”

“Gin-chan would know,” Dazai says, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze seems to track down a bit to your lips as you speak. You try not to smile a bit. You think you fail. You do shift a bit closer. Subtly. You think he notices if the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips says anything about it. His words hardly register until he says, “I have to leave in a bit for a meeting, she’ll come make sure you’re okay and see if you need anything.”

Irrationally, your heart drops with the illogical fear that maybe you’re reading into things because who is Gin-chan and why does she know what type of mattress Dazai has? Maybe it’s not irrational, because that’s odd, isn’t it? Who would know what type of mattress someone has besides like… a wife? But wouldn’t he have mentioned a wife or a girlfriend in the past few weeks? Of course, he would have… right? You didn’t notice a ring, but you don’t want to be obvious and look down to check now. There’s no way he’s the type to cheat anyway, so you assume you’re just missing something—unless they’re not on good terms with each other but haven’t divorced? But… Your thoughts begin to spiral, rapidly and terribly, because you are not a homewrecker, you swear, but you don’t think you’ve ever wanted someone more than Dazai Osamu.

Dazai’s smile sharpens a bit, dark eye flashing playfully, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He leans his head in a bit more, so close that you swear you can count every single individual eyelash, so close that your breath catches when the tip of his nose brushes yours. “Gin-chan is my secretary, I brought her off the streets when she was a child. She’s a sweet girl, I’m sure you’ll get along.”

Oh, you’re so cruel, Dazai Osamu.

You hate that you instantly feel relieved.

You hate even more that he definitely notices.

He leans in a bit closer, your breath hitches, but just when you swear his lips are about to brush yours for the first time, he pulls back to sit up straight again. His cheeks are dusted red, welcome evidence that you’re not the only one who was flustered by his proximity.

You clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain some sense of control over yourself and then try to change the subject. “What type of meeting do you have?” you ask curiously, and then immediately amend the question, realizing this is your chance to question him about his job again, “What do you even do?”

Dazai hesitates, just like he did the last time you asked this question. You think he might try to avoid the question again but instead he says, “I took over my… father’s company a few years ago. I’ve been running it since.”

Your eyebrows shoot up a bit, impressed, although you notice how he seems a bit bitter at the mention of his father. “Really?” you ask, surprised. He can’t be much older than you. What was he eighteen, nineteen when he took over? “What type of company?”

“It’s a… sort of conglomerate. We have stakes in a bunch of different industries,” he tells you, dark hair falling in his eyes as he rests his head back against the couch. His eyes don’t leave you once, almost as if he’s drinking in the sight of you, you can’t control the way your heart races beneath his gaze. He reaches out, fingers brushing your skin in a way that makes goosebumps rise, and you can hardly breathe as he fixes the strap of your camisole, you hadn’t even realized it had slipped off your shoulder.

His fingers linger for a moment before he drops his hand back to his lap; you long for his touch again instantly.

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you say quietly, and suddenly Dazai looks a lot older and much more tired, gaze flickering down to his lap.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “It is.”

You’re not sure what to say for a moment, so instead, you decide to reach out and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing gently. He doesn’t hold your hand back at first, staring at where your hands are connected with a conflicted, unreadable expression, but you don’t let it bother you, holding his hand just a bit tighter before saying: “Well, I’m sure you’re doing a good job.”

He lets out a puff of air, sighing, and then finally, his fingers tighten around yours.

A bit too tight, but you don’t mind.

He doesn’t look like he believes you, and you think that’s a bit sad but you’re not sure what else to say, or even if there’s anything else to say. Dazai’s gaze flickers back up to meet yours and you think that you might not be breathing again. You’re hyper aware of his touch, the way his fingers curl around yours, thumb absently rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. He’s close—you hadn’t realized just how close the two of you had gotten as you spoke. You’re leaning forward and he’s leaning in, both of your heads resting against the back of the couch.

You could kiss him, the thought rings through your head again. Your throat feels tight, the silence between you is comfortable but tense, as if he can sense the thoughts ricocheting through your head and is battling with his own. He shifts forward a bit more, gaze dropping down to your lips, and you brace yourself, tilting your face up a bit and then-

“Sir?”

You draw back right away, embarrassed, eyes cutting across the room where a girl with long dark hair stands, cheeks flushed and gray eyes averted up to the ceiling. She’s young, no older than seventeen or eighteen, and dressed in a sleek black suit. Is this Gin?

“Gin-chan.” Dazai confirms your suspicions as he greets the girl easily. “Is something the matter?”

“Chuuya-san is in your office,” Gin says, careful to keep her voice formal despite the way her face is on fire. “The executives have been waiting in the conference room on the thirty-eighth floor for twenty minutes. He says if you don’t come out, he’ll come in here and drag you out.”

Dazai sighs dramatically, eyes sliding shut. “Chuuya always has the worst timing,” he complains, rising to his feet. “Gin-chan, tend to my lovely guest while I’m gone, would you?”

Gin finally turns her gaze on Dazai, a bit surprised. “You don’t want me coming with you, sir?”

Dazai waves her off. “I’m giving you a more important job. I’ll make the slug take meeting notes. He’ll love that,” he says with an easy smile before looking down at you. “I’ll be back later tonight… wait for me?”

You stare up at him, breathless. You have to force yourself to nod. “Yeah,” you finally agree, voice wavering. “I’ll wait for you.”

The smile he gives you is brilliant, eye shining in a way that puts the night sky to shame.

You think you could stare at it forever.

His fingers burn.

Dazai can hardly pay attention to the meeting taking place around him as he stares down at his hand, the ghost of your touch still warming his skin. He feels giddy, his chest light and heart erratic in his chest. You’re upstairs. You’re in his room. You were in his bed this morning. You told him good morning. You came out and joined him on the couch while you were still in your night clothes. You almost kissed him. You almost kissed him. He almost kissed you. He would have, had Gin not showed up.

God, it was like something out of one of his dreams, one of the vague memories that haunt him when he’s at his lowest. When he’d wake up with wet cheeks and a tight chest, throat thick with aching desire and longing for a life that he never thought he’d have.

But he has it.

He has it.

He has you.

“Where is Gin-chan?” Kouyou’s voice tears Dazai from his thoughts. Dazai turns his gaze onto the woman, careful to keep his expression void of any of the emotions coursing through his body. “She is supposed to be attached at your hip, no?”

Dazai tilts his head to the side. “Gin-chan is busy with more important matters,” Dazai says dismissively.

Kouyou lets out a noise caught between a puff of amusement and shock, covering the lower half of her face with her fan as she watches Dazai with calculating eyes. Dazai wonders if she knows that you’re here, if Chuuya had mentioned anything to her already and this is just a test to see his reaction to her prodding.

“More important matters than the first meeting with all five of your executives in the same place in two years?” Kouyou presses, fanning her fan lightly as she tilts her head to the side.

“Yes,” is all Dazai says in response, not leaving any more room for conversation on the topic. He sees Chuuya roll his eyes from the corner of his vision, knowing just what Gin is up to.

“What is this meeting about anyway?” Ace suddenly speaks up, looking irate from where he’s sitting at the round table, leg folded over his knee as he looks around the room disdainfully. “This is disturbing my casinos, I had integral meetings with shareholders this morning that I had to reschedule.”

“If your casinos are so easily disrupted, perhaps they’re not quite as valuable as you keep making them out to be.” Piano Man gives Ace a demure smile as he speaks, veiling the venom dripping from his words—the most recently promoted of the five executives has no mercy when it comes to taking digs at the self proclaimed Jewel King.

Ace’s head snaps in Piano Man’s direction, lips turning down and eyes icy. Dazai wonders curiously if the man would snap something back with Chuuya sitting right next to him—that would be the end of that, Chuuya has always been viciously protective over his Flags. Dazai never liked Ace, knowing that the man is loyal only to himself, but he’s brought in masses of money and information to the Port Mafia. He considers whether or not he should step in, but decides to just watch idly, unsure of if he’s entertained or bored, folding his hands on the table and letting his head fall to the side lazily.

He wants to go back upstairs. Back to you. He’s tired of this already, every day it’s been something new the past few weeks—issues with the military police, issues with low ring organizations that seem to think they can play with the big leagues, issues internally. He wonders what you and Gin might be talking about, and then bitterly, he thinks it should be him sitting up there talking to you.

“This is about the Russians?” Verlaine drawls, looking severely unimpressed with the tension at the round table as he looks between Kouyou, Chuuya and Dazai. “I’ve heard from some of my birds that Nabakov’s men were spotted in the Sakae and Kanagawa wards. Interesting, no?”

Sakae and Kanagawa?

Dazai suddenly is a lot more attentive to the conversation at hand, if only because your apartment is around those wards. He was already reluctant thinking of letting you go back there, knowing that it’s not the best area in the city, but now? The thought makes his stomach churn, blunt nails digging into the wood of the round tables.

It’s not an option.

It’s not.

Kouyou raises a parchment between two fingers to show off to the rest of the executives before passing it over to Dazai, who stares at it distastefully for a moment before plucking it from her hand. He scans the words rapidly, lips twisting down into a deep frown the more he reads.

“What is it?” Chuuya asks impatiently, fingers thrumming on the table as Dazai reads.

“A missive from the Pale Flame,” Kouyou tells him, voice smooth and curious, eyes not leaving Dazai once as she waits for his reaction to it. “Nabokov wishes to personally apologize for not coming to the meeting himself two months ago. He claims that he’s coming to Tokyo to handle an issue regarding one of his major narcotics suppliers in three weeks and wants to host us under the guise of a business event to make amends and prove his dedication to our continuing alliance.”

The war in the mainland is over, the realization hits him hard, like he’s been doused in freezing water and struck with a train all at once. His vision begins to tunnel, just a bit, but enough for him to know he has to pull himself back together before it gets worse, but it’s hard because the implications of that-

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Piano Man sighs whimsically. “Since when does Nabokov care for apologies and amends? The man’s pride goes beyond the heights of the moon.”

“War must be going that badly,” Ace scoffs, amused. “I suppose we chose right in declining their pleas for support.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Piano Man says flippantly, side-eyeing Ace blatantly.

Ace’s expression twists, but as soon as it does, it smooths out again, and a slow smirk is curling at the edges of his lips. He parts his lips to dole out a side comment and Dazai chooses to tune out the petty arguments, focusing on his own dilemma.

It can’t be a coincidence. Right when he finally starts accepting you into his life, the three way war plaguing the Russian underworld comes to an end and the threat that Dostoevsky poses to you becomes all the more present. Fate, the word haunts him, curses him, he wants to spit in its face but every passing day reminds him that the gods must be laughing down at him.

Doubt begins to riddle his chest, festering and spreading—should he send you away? Pretend that the past few weeks never happened and send you off to one of your friend’s apartments? But what if someone already saw him with you? If the wrong person saw, and he sent you away, he’d be signing your death sentence himself.

“What do you think?” Kouyou addresses him, drawing Dazai from his spiraling thoughts.

“The war between Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Nabokov ended,” Dazai says, staring down at the table as his mind races. “The missive is a declaration of war.”

“Why would Nabokov declare war on us?” Ace asks doubtfully, leaning back in his chair. “For not giving him support?”

“Nabokov is a puppet.” Dazai’s tongue slides against the back of his teeth, trying to piece together what the best course of action to take would be. He’d been sure that the territory wars in Russia would last at least another two to three months. He’s sure that Dostoevsky is behind the missive, he doubts that Tolstoy would make a move into Yokohama, he’d prefer to move west, but he needs confirmation. But if it is Dostoevsky… Why has this timeline sped up so much? Dostoevsky isn’t supposed to officially make a move in Yokohama until after the Guild. The thought is cold and unnerving, he doesn’t like it. He’s been basing all of his plans around his knowledge of the other universes, so why is everything changing suddenly? He turns his attention to Ace and Verlaine, “Find out if Tolstoy or Dostoevsky came out on top.”

He has his suspicions, but he needs it confirmed before he makes any more plans. He has to be careful now, excruciatingly so. He can’t risk anything now that you’re with him and the threat of Dostoevsky has become exceedingly more imminent. However cautious and meticulous he’s been the past seven years, he needs to up it tenfold. He needs Dostoevsky six feet under. He needs Christie six feet under.

And most importantly, he needs to keep you safe, locked in the ivory tower, ignorant to the looming threats until Dazai has properly handled them.

But to do that, he needs to convince you to stay.

How is he supposed to do that without setting off alarm bells?

“What of the business event that we’ve been invited to?” Piano Man asks, white hair falling into his face as he tilts his head to the side. “Do we attend or tell him to shove it?”

“How eloquent,” Ace digs, but goes silent when Dazai gives him a icy look, no longer in the mood for their petty back and forth.

“We attend,” Dazai answers, exhaling as he turns his attention to the side, looking out the bulletproof window giving a vast view of the city’s busiest ports. “If it’s under the guise of a business event, there will be plenty of legitimate corporations there to use as shields should things go wrong, but the Russians aren’t stupid enough for that regardless. They won’t spill blood on foreign land in view of people who live in the light, it’s the fastest way for them to get the Special Division or the Hunting Dogs sicced on them. This will be the easiest way to gather information… and to try to take out the mastermind.”

Chuuya does not look happy with Dazai’s declaration, likely already tallying all of the things that could go wrong. It’ll be the easiest way to get to Dostoevsky, yes, but it’ll also be the easiest way for them to get to Dazai. Dazai is not stupid and he knows he has to be especially vigilant now, but no progress will be made unless some gambles are made—Fyodor Dostoevsky is slimy and slippery in every universe, for Dazai to get his hands on the man, he’s going to have to take a few risks. Dazai just has to ensure said risks are minimal, because every risk he takes is a risk to you too.

God, he feels sick, his head hurts so badly that he thinks he might die. If he was any other version of himself, he could drag himself to you and bury himself in your arms, a surefire way of making the pain disappear. But he’s not any other version of himself—he’s him, and he’s so bitter, because even when he has you, he doesn’t really have you, not in the way that he wants.

“Meeting dismissed,” Dazai says coldly, hardly sparing his executives another look. He’s ready to go back upstairs and be with you, even if he’s not ready to put that mask back on yet, terrified of scaring you away. “Get me the information I asked for.”

There’s a few spattered agreements and farewells. Verlaine, Ace and Piano Man all file out of the conference room. Kouyou and Chuuya stay behind. Dazai’s eyes slide shut, waiting for whatever the two have to say.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Chuuya finally says, voice gruff and Dazai doesn’t have to look at him to know that his fingers are probably digging into his palms in frustration. “Things are about to get bad. Don’t let some girl distract you from what’s important.”

Dazai looks up at Chuuya now, slowly, gaze glacial. If Chuuya were anyone else, he would’ve backed down or apologized, but Chuuya is Chuuya, so he only raises his chin, jaw tightening when he realizes that he pissed off Dazai with that comment.

You are what’s important, is what Dazai wants to say in your defense. He’s done all of this for you—you and Odasaku, but he bites the words back, resorting instead to turning his gaze to Kouyou, dismissing Chuuya without a word. Chuuya scoffs loudly and then he spins on his heel with a swish of his coat and storms out of the meeting room.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, daring Kouyou to mention it. The woman only raises her eyebrows, a knowing expression painted on her face, as always.

“One of my girls got their hands on a Russian suspected of being a member of the House of the Dead,” Kouyou says, fanning her face gently. “We’ve been unsuccessful so far in getting him to reveal any information. It could be useful in figuring out whether Tolstoy or Dostoevsky came out on top.”

Dazai exhales, because of course he can’t go right back to you, when has life ever been so easy for him? He pushes himself to his feet, body on automatic as he makes his way out of the meeting room and toward the elevator.

It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll be back to you soon.

He just has to make this fast, and Dazai is never as efficient as he is when he has you as motivation.

Dazai is careful to make sure that no blood stains his face or hands as he leans back against the wall of the elevator. Getting the information out of the rat hadn’t taken too long once he got there, but the following conversation with Kouyou took an eternity. He watches the floors tick upward from the twenty-second floor all the way up to the forty-sixth, back to his penthouse where you’re hopefully still waiting. An irrational fear claws at his chest, that you slipped away and left the building, descending back down into the city that’s quickly threatening to become an imminent warzone. He knows it’s illogical, Gin would have told him if you left so you must still be up there, but a part of him can’t bring himself to believe it.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Your face blends with another version of yourself as he lets his eyes slide shut. The image of his apartment shifting into an unfamiliar hotel room. The atmosphere is much more somber in the hotel room, Dazai feels anxiety swelling in his throat and hope bubbling in his chest no matter how hard he tries to push it away as those very same words ring through his head. In a desperate attempt to sideline the emotions he can’t seem to control, he leans in to press his lips against yours. His own breath catches as the memory floods through him—he can feel the pads of his fingers burning as he pushes you back against the bed, his heart racing as his body hovers above yours, his mind foggy and dizzy as he kisses you so deeply that he think he might die from lack of air to his lungs. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his body slides on top of yours, hips slotting between your thighs and then-

Ding.

His eyes snap back open as he’s forced back to reality, the sharp trill of the elevator drawing him from the maze of the pages just as the doors slide open. He’s hardly able to settle down, sweaty palms wiping at his black jacket and tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth as he steps out of the elevator and into his penthouse, praying he doesn’t look half as frazzled as he feels.

It’s so bright, he thinks to himself, unused to having so much sunlight in his penthouse, usually keeping the windows blacked out just as he does in his office, but he figured you’d find that a bit odd so he made sure to fix it before you woke up in the morning. His gaze drags across the room, and he hates that his pulse spikes when he doesn’t immediately spot you, but it’s only a momentary spike when he realizes that you’re laying on the couch with Gin, some unfamiliar show playing in the background as you waves your arms around, talking rapidly.

He doesn’t move for a moment, standing there, admiring you—the way your skin glows beneath the sun, the way you smile widely, eyes glittering as you speak. You’re so animated. So alive. Dazai just can’t get used to it. He wonders if this is what his life would be like every day, if you stayed around. Waking up to you in the morning, relaxing with you under the early sun before he goes off to deal with his work, coming home to you waiting for him on the couch. Realistically, he knows it’s not that simple—you have your own goals and dreams and Dazai swore that in this life, he’d make sure you’d achieve them, so you can’t just sit around his penthouse all day until he comes back… but maybe it’s a practical enough to hope for the next few weeks until Dostoevsky is handled.

But first, he has to make sure you stay here and not try to go off with one of your friends, which will be a trial in itself. He’s not sure how to go about it yet, so he just needs to have faith that it’s not something you bring up right away.

Gin catches sight of him first, rising to her feet instantly, hands locked behind her back. “Sir,” she greets, nodding her head down a bit in respect.

You perk up at her words, leaning up to finally catch sight of him, peeking your head over the back of the couch and then raising your hand to wave at him. “Welcome back,” you say with a grin. “How was the meeting?”

Gin bids you a quiet goodbye before making her way out of Dazai’s place back into the office, leaving Dazai alone with you.

“Agonizing,” he answers truthfully, voice a low drawl as the corner of his lips instinctively curls up at the sight of you. He doesn’t come any closer, leaning back against the wall as you prop yourself up on the back of the sofa to look at him, resting your cheek on your folded arms.

A smile spreads across your face at his words, amused, and he wonders distantly if you would be even half as amused if you knew what the meeting was about or what he had to do afterward. The thought nearly makes his own smile falter, throat spasming. No matter how easily you might’ve accepted him and his past in the other universes, he knows that it won’t be the same in this one because it’s not his past. Not for the first time, he’s viciously jealous of all of his other selves—not only because of their relationship with you, but because they hadn’t needed to go to the depths of hell that he has had to in the name of keeping you and Odasaku safe.

It’s so hard. Lonely. The other Dazais always liked to insist that they were alone but they weren’t—not really. They always had so many people surrounding them even if they refused to accept it, meanwhile he-

He has nothing. Even now when you’re here, he knows that he’ll never be able to have you as intimately as the other Dazais did. He’ll never be able to open up to you like they did, rely on you like they did. He can’t because of the risk it would bring to the fragile stability of this world. He can’t because if you knew the truth, it would drive you away.

He’s so tired.

He’s not sure what you must see on his face, but your expression falls a bit as you look at him. You push yourself to your feet and he can’t help but notice that you’d changed out of your pajamas into a pair of leggings and a burgundy sweater. He also notices, a bit more dreadfully, that the duffle you’d brought last night is sitting outside his bedroom door, packed.

“I messaged one of my friends,” you say, voice a bit awkward, a jolt of panic shoots through him, realizing that you are bringing this up right away and he hasn’t had time to figure out how to go about convincing you to stay. “She said I could stay with her until my apartment is fixed, so I won’t be bothering you much longer. Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

Dazai hardly refrains from sighing and letting his eyes slide shut in frustration.

He really can’t get a break.

“I…” he trails off, unsure of what to say. He could tell you that it’s not a bother, but he doubts you would believe that, and how is he supposed to insist without coming across as shady? He has to try though. “It’s not a bother. You can stay here as long as you want.”

It won’t be enough, and he knows it from the way you immediately shake your head, sitting back on your heels to look at him head on. “I appreciate it, but I don’t want to intrude.”

His mind races as he tries to figure out what to say but it’s hard to think with dark talons pulling at his brain, images of you flashing before his eyes—limp in his arms as he tries to shake you awake (futile, your skin was already cold when he got back from work), unmoving on the floor of your apartment as he stands at the door (he’d only stepped outside for a moment), the fear in your eyes as you topple back over the side of the roof (he can’t get to you in time. he never can.)

“It’s no intrusion… Truthfully, it gets a bit lonely here on my own,” Dazai finally admits, his voice sounds faraway to his own ears as he struggles to ground himself from the foreign memories, he hopes it doesn’t come across that way to you. He can see your face shift a bit at his words, brows furrowing and lips turning downward—not pity, thankfully because he hates pity, but more so understanding. Hooked, he realizes and then deals what will hopefully be the final blow: “I really wouldn’t mind the company.”

Your lips part to say something but no words leave them. You stare at him for a moment, looking between your duffle and your phone and then back to him. He waits, breathless, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if you say no, if you insist on leaving. He can’t let you leave, not until the threats have been dealt with, he refuses to sign your execution warrant—he can live with you hating him, even if the thought makes him sick, he can’t live in a world without you.

Finally, you give him a smile.

“I mean, it would definitely be easier getting my work done here than in her cramped apartment, it’s hardly big enough for her and her boyfriend, much less me on top of that,” you say with a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “If you’re sure…”

Dazai has to physically restrain himself from letting out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sure,” he murmurs.

You light up and then look back at the television. “Well, I found a few movies I want to watch, if you’re up for it?” you ask with a hesitant smile.

Dazai gives you a soft, matching smile. “I’d love to.”

Oh, god, how did you end up like this?

You can hardly breathe properly, legs tossed over Dazai’s lap, head resting on his shoulder, his arm curled around you. The movie is still playing in the background but you’re hardly following the plot anymore, too focused on the feeling of Dazai’s thumb rubbing idle circles over your hip. You don’t even know if he’s aware he’s doing it, but it has your entire attention—your heart is racing, you’re sure he must be able to feel it, he’s just being courteous in not mentioning it, and your body feels hot. Every now and then, his thumb dips a bit lower and you swear he must know what he’s doing but he’s barely sparing you a glance, engrossed with the movie playing on the disgustingly large television mounted on his wall.

The movie that you had been excited to watch but now can’t even recall what the plot is.

And it’s so odd. You don’t like cuddling. Or, you thought you didn’t like cuddling. Whenever your past partners tried to cuddle up next to you to watch a movie, or at night before bed, you’d grimace and try to subtly shift away, but now? You’re leaning into him, you find comfort in the arm draped around you and the fingers drawing absent patterns on your hip, you find warmth in the way your body is tucked against his.

It’s absurd, you think, why is he so different from everyone else?

Your friends think you’re crazy. When you texted one of them to ask for a place to stay until your apartment is fixed, and then abruptly said nevermind because Dazai offered to let you stay at his, you were hit with five calls in a row and a spam of texts ranging from: “wym ur staying with that random guy you met at a bar two months ago???” to “girl ur crazy, this is stranger danger 101. you were literally just complaining about how you know NOTHING about this man. i am NOT coming to ur funeral.”

The last one is a lie, Kei would come to your funeral and she’d cry like a baby while stuttering through the eulogy, but it’s no issue because there won’t be a funeral. Regardless, you still shut your phone off because the vibrations were getting irritating, but now, you kind of wished you still had your phone to peek at because you can’t focus on the movie and you need something to distract you from Dazai’s touch otherwise you’re bound to make a complete fool out of yourself.

You spare a look up at him—just a quick glimpse, but it proves to be a fatal mistake.

He’s already looking at you.

There’s a fond expression on his face, a warm look in his eye. When he realizes you’ve caught him, his lips tilt upward and he says, “You haven’t been watching the movie.”

A soft accusation. Teasing. It leaves you a bit flustered. You want to look away but you can’t bring yourself to.

“Guilty,” you manage to get out, giving him a sheepish smile.

“I thought you wanted to watch it.” His voice is so soft and light that it makes goosebumps rise to your skin. He keeps his tone low so as to not disturb the atmosphere between the two of you, and it only serves to further the yearning you feel for him, eyes darting down to his lips as he speaks. His gaze sharpens a bit, pupil dilating when he notices where your eyes had tracked down to. Your mouth dries.

“I did,” you whisper, leaving the implication in the air that something far more interesting has caught your attention, breath catching as your eyes lift back to his, wishing that you could know what he’s thinking. You can see his mind racing, as if he’s fighting with himself about something and then-

And then he kisses you.

He leans in just enough to brush his lips against yours, brief and hesitant, as if he’s just testing the waters. And it’s electrifying, you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything quite like it. Every other kiss you’ve had pales in comparison to the faintest brush of his lips to yours. His eye searches your face as soon as he pulls back, as if to make sure you’re okay with this; you can see the hint of something edging on desperation as his gaze flits back and forth between your eyes. He wants to know you’re okay with this, needs to know.

You don’t waste a second as you lean forward, hand coming up to cup the side of his neck as you press your lips against his. You don’t have the same hesitancy that he does, heart thudding in your chest as your fingers intertwine with the curls at the nape of his neck, your body flush to his. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind—it feels familiar somehow, almost comforting. You can feel the rough material of his bandages brushing your cheek but you only press closer. He tastes like fine whiskey and faintly of iron, a strange combination but you can’t get enough of it.

He’s still hesitant, you can feel it in the slow way he kisses you. His fingers twitch from where they’re resting on his lap, as if he’s itching to reach out and touch you but doesn’t know if he should. Your hand slides up from his neck to the back of his head to pull him impossibly closer, tongue darting out to drag against his bottom lip, and that seems to be all of the push he needs.

His hand comes to rest on your waist, fingers biting a bit too deeply into your skin but you don’t mind. One swift motion and he’s laying you back against the cushions, body sliding on top of yours, his other hand shifting upward, large palm cupping your cheeks as he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, you let out a soft, pleased sigh into his mouth when you feel his tongue tracing your inner lip.

You think you could kiss him forever, you realize, heat pooling in your stomach and a fluttery feeling spreading through your chest. The hand on your waist slides down a bit to your thigh and your breath hitches when he parts them just enough for him to slot his hips between them, and god, you want him.

You think your heart might fly out of your chest, and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. You have casual sex all the time to relieve stress but nothing about this feels casual, it feels so intimate; you let out a shaky breath as Dazai’s lips drag from yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, trailing down to your jaw, nipping at the spot behind your ear that always makes you shudder (god, how does he know your body so well already? it’s unfair, you might die), tongue tracing the underside of your jaw lightly, he kisses down your neck, teeth ghosting your pulse point and one of your legs instinctively hooks around his waist, dragging his body closer until you can feel him pressed up against you and-

A screech comes from the television.

You jolt, he jolts, both of you startled, having forgotten that the movie was even playing in the background, too lost in the feeling of one another. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to reorient yourself, leg slipping from his waist to rest back down on the couch.

The moment is ruined, naturally, all too hyper aware of the scene playing in the background and embarrassed by how quickly that had escalated. Dazai’s cheeks are dusted red as he shifts off of you back into a sitting position, and his lips are wet and swollen, and so very tempting.

You want to kiss him again, so you do.

You sit up and cup his cheek to tilt his face in your direction, pressing your lips to his in a short and sweet kiss. You smile against his lips before pulling back and tucking yourself back into his side, gaze focusing back on the movie.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds distinctly close to a laugh before he wraps his arm back around you, warm and comforting, casual, as if it’s something he’s done a thousand times before, and you think Kei can suck it, because you’re starting to think that the ‘random stranger at the bar’ might become the best decision of your life.

A few days later, you’re stretching on a yoga mat looking out down upon the vast city below, Akutagawa Gin is sat pretty on a barstool next to where you’re stretching, one leg crossed over her knee, rapidly tapping at her phone as she finishes up some emails for Dazai, who’s god knows where dealing with whatever business Dazai Osamu deals with.

“It’s a bit weird that they’re taking so long to fix my apartment, isn’t it?” you ask absently, grimacing as you shift into a pose that pulls at all of the wrong muscles. “Usually it doesn’t take more than a day or two.”

You still don’t really know what Dazai’s company is, you were only able to find vague scraps online about the Mori Corporation: a massive, affluent conglomerate that formed seven years ago. Apparently, it has a hand in just about every industry from technology to shipping, so you suppose it makes sense that Dazai is hardly ever around, but you’re finding yourself increasingly bored. There’s only so much time you can spend in the same apartment, no matter how big or fancy it may be. The days have been incredibly repetitive with Dazai leaving for his work meetings, you relaxing and getting some of your work done, talking to Gin, and then Dazai coming back late at night.

“You’re probably not the only apartment that had a leak,” Gin says, astute as always. “Your landlord might just be getting to the others first, and if they’re half as bad as yours was, it’ll probably take a bit.”

You scowl. “It would be just like him to leave me for last,” you say, half to yourself as you sit back on your heels, looking over at Gin. “I swear this man has had something out for me since I moved in. Did I tell you about the time he took three weeks to get back to me about a work order I put in for my sink? Three weeks. I had to wash all of my dishes at my neighbor’s place. How embarrassing is that?”

Gin looks amused, gray eyes lifting from her phone to look down at you from where she’s sitting. “Multiple times, in fact.”

“Well, I’m going to tell you again,” you say matter-of-factly before launching into a tirade that you can recite word for word in your sleep from how often you’ve vented about it to people over the past two years. In your defense, it was absolutely ridiculous, it never should’ve taken that long, but you digress.

You like Gin, you decide as she listens intently to the same rant she’s heard at least three times over the past week, nodding along and adding supportive commentary when necessary. Well, you decided you liked her the first time you met her, but you’re just reaffirming it now. For as formal and professional she is, she always gets a certain gleam in her eye when she talks to you, and you can actually see her for the eighteen year old she is, rather than just as the secretary of the boss of one of the biggest corporations in Japan.

You think she likes you too, you muse as you finish off your rant and go back to laying like a starfish on the yoga mat, not in the mood to do any more stretching. She always lights up a bit whenever Dazai tells her to spend the day with you instead of following him around. You’re not sure why he does it, you figure he’s probably making things harder on himself by not having her around, but you’re not going to complain because you think you’d go crazy with no one to talk to.

But even if she does like you, she’s still not very forward with information about Dazai and the Mori Corporation. She tends to change the topic whenever you bring it up, or sometimes she just gives you that look, the one that tells you that she isn’t going to say anything about it. You think it’s a bit weird that they’re so secretive about it, but you suppose she just doesn’t want to speak on behalf of Dazai when you ask about him, and the whole secrecy about the business probably has to do with trade secrets or something

Although you don’t really think you’re asking questions that could even scarcely tap into trade secrets, but you think that maybe they’re just paranoid. Probably for good reason if the business is half as influential and lucrative as the few things you’ve found online claim it is, but still, knowing that doesn’t make you any less curious.

“Hey, Gin-chan.” You decide to get an early start on today’s attempt to whittle information out of the girl. When she looks at you questioningly, you turn your head to the side to look at her. “Is Dazai okay?”

Gin looks a bit startled by your question, but you only wait for an answer. You think he must be having trouble with something regarding his business because every day he comes back to his place later and more stressed, you can see it in his face when he walks in, the dullness in his eye and the way he can hardly cover it up before you catch sight of him. You don’t know why he’s so intent on hiding the exhaustion from you but you wish he wouldn’t.

“Why do you ask?” Gin questions carefully, as if she doesn’t know how to answer the question which pretty much confirms that something is wrong.

“I figure he must be having trouble with something in his company,” you say absently, watching Gin blink in surprise, another confirmation that you might be onto something. “He comes back to the penthouse later every day, and more tired. And even when he’s here, he spends most of the time on his phone unless he turns it off. You’ve been on your phone more often the past two days too, so I figure it’s connected.”

Gin hesitates and then she says, “We are… having difficulty with a rival company,” she finally says, and you sit up to look up at her again, leaning back on your hands. “They are trying to push us out of some key industries in Tokyo and Yokohama. Their… CEO is hosting an event in two weeks that we’re supposed to be attending, along with many of our subsidiaries. We’ve been trying to prepare for it while dealing with some other internal issues. He’s probably just… drained.”

This time, you hesitate, a lump forming in your throat as her words register because how fucked up is it that he’s so drained from work and then has to come back to his penthouse and entertain you? Guilt swells in your chest, you don’t even know where he’s been sleeping because he’s been so dead set on you taking the bed that he won’t even hear your arguments on it.

“Should I… go stay with my friend then?” you ask hesitantly, and when Gin gives you a half-alarmed, half-concerned look, you elaborate: “I just… feel bad, I guess. That he’s dealing with so much work and can’t even have a space to decompress when he finishes because I’m here.”

Gin says your name with so much humor that you’re almost insulted, but there’s a glitter in her eyes as she looks at you, so any complaint you have promptly dies. “Being with you is decompressing to him,” she says quietly, and though warmth spreads through you at the words, you’re still doubtful.

“I don’t know,” you say, unconvinced. “I see the way he tries to hide how exhausted he is whenever he sees me. He shouldn’t have to put in so much effort to mask himself in his home just because I’m here.”

Gin doesn’t respond for a moment, gaze flickering down to the floor, but when she speaks, her voice is soft.

“He’s always so lonely,” she says, more to herself than anything else, but then she raises her eyes to meet yours, “no matter how many people are around him, he’s always so cut off from everyone, refusing to let anyone get close… except when he’s with you. In all of the years that I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen him happy when he’s with you.”

You stare at Gin, lips parted to respond but no words leave them.

Instead, Gin continues, “He… had to step up at a very young age. He was sixteen when he found me in Suribachi and even back then he was just so… empty. I’ve never seen him actually acting his age except when he’s with you, or talking about you. So-”

Gin is interrupted abruptly by her phone ringing. She looks down and gives you an apologetic look before answering the call and wandering off to the other room, leaving you to your thoughts. Your throat still feels swollen, but with a far more pleasant emotion now. A small smile tugs at the edges of your lips, hand pressed to your chest as if you can physically slow the erratic pace of your heart. Your face feels warm and a giggle slips from your lips as you flop back down to the yoga mat, staring up at the ceiling.

Or, well, it’s not entirely pleasant. A heavier feeling settles on your chest as Gin’s words about what Dazai used to be like—still is like, whenever you’re not around—process through your head. It’s not like you didn’t have any sort of inkling about it, you’ve known that there’s more than meets the eye about Dazai Osamu since the first night you met him, and the past week you’ve spent with him only has made you more sure of it. His mind drifts off so often, eyes faraway and expression so vacant that sometimes it takes a few tries for you to get him to come back to you.

You don’t mind, but it does make you sad to know that he’s been like this for as long as Gin has known him, and since the only time she’s ever seen him even partially happy is when he’s with you, you can’t help but wonder how many years he spent depressed and isolated. And you’re realizing, a bit scared, that you’re starting to care for Dazai a lot because the first thought that crosses your mind is that you wish you’d met him sooner so he didn’t have to spend all of this time alone.

You sit up straight, alarmed by your own thoughts, because yes, you’re enamored by Dazai and you have been since you met him almost two months ago, but you didn’t think you were falling for him yet—not like that at least. It’s absurd, you still hardly know much about his personal life. You don’t know about his family besides for the fact he took over his father’s company, you don’t know anything about said company besides the scraps you found online but… but you remember the way he kisses you gently, and the way his expression always softens when his gaze falls on you, and the way whenever you speak, he’s always giving you his full attention no matter how inane the topic might be, willing to listen to you ramble on about all of the books you’ve read and gossip with you about your ex-coworkers and drama happening in your friend group and-

Oh.

Yeah. You might be falling for him.

Your hand rises to your lips, mind racing and spiraling all at the same time and you realize that you really, really need fresh air. Promptly, you remember that you’d meant to ask Gin to order some groceries because Dazai’s kitchen is about as bare as his bedroom, and you’ve been craving some specific snacks anyway; you also wanted to have her order some actual food so you can make something to try to make Dazai eat more because you’ve noticed he doesn’t eat all too much and you don’t think that’s very healthy considering how much stress he’s under. You’re not the best at cooking, but you can make do and just pray that he likes it.

A perfect excuse. You’ll run out and grab some groceries, maybe take a walk in the nearby park to clear your thoughts and come to terms with the realization you’d just come to, and then come back and do something nice for Dazai.

Decision made, you bound over to the door Gin disappeared into so you can let her know where you’re heading, but when you peek your head into Dazai’s office, you see Gin in deep conversation with someone over the phone, brows creased and frown on her lips as she stares down at some of the paperwork on Dazai’s desk. She looks distinctly frustrated and slightly distressed, so you decide not to bother her. Instead, you just close the door quietly and make your way over to the elevator, stepping inside when it finally reaches the top floor and pressing the button for the lobby.

You won’t be long anyway, you doubt she’ll even notice you’re gone.

The elevator dings as it reaches the first floor of the massive building and you adjust your purse over your shoulder as you step into the lobby—it’s massive and bustling with dozens of people. You haven’t been back down here since he brought you here a few days ago, and you’d been too exhausted to really be able to gather your bearings, plus it had been the middle of the night and not as many people had been around.

You’re hardly able to peek around for half a minute before someone runs into you.

You let out a quiet yelp, startled, blinking as your gaze focuses on the man who’d bumped into you. He’s a bit on the short side with fair skin and light freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, bi-colored eyes—one brown and the other blue—narrowed as he studies you. He’s pretty, you think. Not quite as pretty as Dazai, but definitely attractive. Or he would be, if he wasn’t staring at you with such an unpleasant expression.

You half-think he’s about to demand that you apologize even though he’s the one who bumped into you, and you think if he does, you’re going to have serious problems with him, but instead, a vague recognition flashes through his eyes as he finally speaks. Although, you can’t help but notice he still is looking at you with distinct displeasure even after recognizing you.

“You’re the girl that’s been living up with the boss,” the man says, his voice is cool and guarded and you feel a bit uncomfortable under his stare. You’ve always been particularly good at reading people, and you can tell at first glance that he does not want you here. “Where are you going?”

You don’t know why it’s any of his business, but you say: “Out. I’ve been cooped up for almost a week. Plus, I don’t know how Dazai feeds himself, he has literally no food in his place.”

“Does he know you’re going out?” he asks, eyes narrowing onto you as he tilts his head to the side.

You bristle, not liking his tone. “He’s not my keeper.”

“No, but he’s gone out of his way to give you a place to stay when he didn’t have to. The least you can do is let him know when you’re going in and out.” The man matches your sharp tone with his own and you wither a bit, because he’s right, even if he is being a bit of an ass about it.

“Gin-chan was busy,” you mutter. “I’ll text him.”

The man lets out a sigh of what can only be utter suffering, lifting his head to look up to the ceiling as if asking a higher deity ‘why me?’ You have no idea what’s going through his head, and you just want to slip out of the building and drink in some fresh air and sunlight, but the last thing you expect is for him to look back at you and ask:

“Want company?”

You blink, wondering if he’s fucking with you, but he only stares at you, expression flat as he waits for a response.

“I-” You’re about to say no, you aren’t particularly looking for company, but then you realize that this might be a chance to try to gather some more information about Dazai. You quickly amend to a: “Yeah, sure… What’s your name anyway?”

“Nakahara Chuuya,” he tells you, voice a bit brusque. “Just call me Chuuya.”

Dazai comes home to an empty penthouse.

For a moment, he doesn’t react. The unconscious smile that had begun to curve to his lips while taking the elevator back up to the top floor of the headquarters falls instantly as his dark gaze sweeps across the room that you’re usually lounging in with Gin only to find it eerily silent, void of the laughter he’d become desperately used to the past few days.

He doesn’t let the panic hit right away, not even bothering to slide his coat off before making his way over to his bedroom, wondering if you’d decided to take a nap. He very much does feel a distinct spike in his heart rate when you’re not in there either. He stands there for a moment—Gin is still up here, she would have called down if she had to leave, so where are you?

Where are you?

Dazai suddenly feels sick to his stomach, a bit dizzy on his feet.

Did you leave?

Why did you leave?

Did you go into his office? Find something implicating his position in the Port Mafia?

Or did you just get sick of staying in the same place so many days in the row? Why wouldn’t you tell him if that were the case?

Maybe you were just sick of him.

His vision spins a bit, he presses his hand against the frame of his bedroom door to steady himself. Stop it, he tells himself, inhaling deeply once to try to get his head back on straight. But he can’t, he can feel numbness spreading through his chest viciously at the thought of you leaving. The void returns with a vengeance, consuming him entirely, and it’s only the thought of the chance of you being in danger out there alone that pushes him forward. He needs Gin to tell him what the fuck is going on.

What does he do if you left on your own voilition?

Dazai’s head is not sitting on his shoulders properly. It can’t be. Everything looks wrong, everything feels wrong. His hand drops down to his side, resorting back to the technique he had to use before he met you—he steadily taps your name against his thigh as he forces himself to walk across the room to his office, to where Gin must be, to get some answers. But even your name isn’t enough to keep him grounded.

He’s holding you in his arms. You’re so cold. There’s blood everywhere. They’re telling him to let you go. He can’t. He never can.

He’s reaching out to you, desperately trying to grab your hand before you topple over the side of the roof. He never makes it.

He has to make a choice. A life for a life. He always chooses to save you. It doesn’t matter—they always kill you anyway.

Nausea builds in his throat, he forces it back down, and when he opens the door to his office it’s a bit too aggressive. Gin’s head snaps up from where she was working at Dazai’s desk, flipping through papers with creased brows as she tries to put together the list of suspects. She stands up instantly at the sight of him, lips parting to greet him. He doesn’t let her.

“Where is she?”

The words come out cold and cutting, a far cry from the awful emotions wreaking havoc on his chest and mind. To his absolute distress, Gin only looks confused at his words, lowering the phone and bidding goodbye to who he can only assume is Kouyou as she asks:

“... What do you mean?”

Fuck. Dazai takes a step back out of his office, back into the living room of his penthouse. His head feels all hazy, his vision starts spinning more. Fuck. You had to have left on your own. There’s no way anyone is getting all the way up to the top floor through all of the guards, and if they did, they wouldn’t leave Gin alive. Fuck.

Where did you go?

There’s blood. Too much blood. Or is it water? He’s dragging you out of the water. And then his fingers are meeting air, the tips of his fingers just barely scraping yours before you plummet down, down, down.

Why the fuck did no one say anything to him?

He can hear Gin talking, but her words go in one ear out the other. Dazai pulls out his phone, double, triple, quadruple checking to make sure he got no messages. None from you (his chest hurts). None from either of the Black Lizard captains. None from Atsushi. None from Kyouka. None from Chuuya. All people who should have feasibly noticed you leaving the headquarters.

Dazai has never done well with emotions, negative or positive, but he thinks fear is the worst of all and he’s been plagued with it since the moment he’s come in contact with the Book. Fear of the future, fear of making a mistake, fear of fate.

Fear is the mind-killer. The quote rings through his head over and over again, damning and true. It’s the one emotion that paralyzes him, puts him into a state that makes him incapable of making decisions. Fear of one thing turns into fear of another—it’s a ceaseless cycle, and a ruinous one. Fear of you leaving him turns into fear of you being vulnerable and then to fear of you being targeted and then to fear of you being dead, and already he can feel numbness spreading from his chest to his limbs. He thinks he feels Gin touch his arm but he can’t even turn his head to look.

So he does the only thing he knows how to do: he channels it into something else. He funnels the fear into something more familiar, something more welcome.

First, it turns into frustration—another emotion capable of incapacitation, but one that’s far more manageable. He jerks away from Gin, grip tightening on his phone as he paces back across the room. His thoughts begin to race, a red fog clouding his mind as he wonders why the fuck no one told him that you left, and if no one knows that you left, then Dazai is going to have to have serious fucking words with all of the security details posted throughout the building because that sort of laxness is not acceptable.

He doesn’t even know who he should message. Atsushi? The boy might close in on himself and shut down for failure and Dazai cannot afford to deal with that. Chuuya? Not an option, Chuuya would be the last person to go to about you seeing how often he actively expresses his distaste for your presence in the building, Dazai doesn’t want to give him more ammunition about you. Hirotsu? Might be the best option, the Black Lizards are quick and efficient, they’ll be able to track you down fast, but if he sends the Black Lizards he needs to figure out what he’s going to do.

What is he going to do?

God, he doesn’t know. The red starts to tint blue as a helpless feeling sweeps over him. He doesn’t know what to do. You left on your own, he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t know if you have any intentions on coming back. He doesn’t know what to do if you don’t plan on coming back. His whole reasoning behind the decision to indulge in you was centered on the fact that he could protect you in this lifetime, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep you in the ivory tower forever but he hoped he’d at least have a little longer to try to figure out a plan.

And the fact that you didn’t even tell him that you were leaving doesn’t bode well—again, the fleeting, anxiety-inducing thought of you stumbling upon something that you shouldn’t have crosses through his head but he pushes it away. Maybe you left because you were bored, because he wasn’t around and Gin was busy, he can try to fix that. He can fix that. Maybe he’ll even convince you to come back.

But if he can’t…

He has two options:

He can put protection details on you, it would be an extension of Port Mafia resources that will face a lot of push back from his executives considering they’re approaching a gang war with the now united forces of Dostoevsky, Nabokov and Tolstoy, but he doesn’t give a fuck about what his executives think, you and Odasaku are the only things that matter in this universe so he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe. But regardless of what his executives think, the main issue with this option is that your safety is not guaranteed. It’ll only take one slip up for your life to be forfeit and for everything that Dazai has built and sacrificed to be flushed down the drain.

That leaves option two. Forcing you to stay in the tower. Locking you up until he can ensure that there are no more threats to you (there may always be threats to you). You’d hate him, surely, and is he capable of living in a universe where you hate him? He has to be, if it means your safety. But that isn’t the life that he wants for you. He wants you to live, achieve all of the dreams you were never able to in all of the other universes, you can’t do that if you’re locked up.

Dazai feels sick. Regret starts to churn his stomach. He never should have approached you. He never should have indulged. He never should have convinced himself that he could keep you safe because he can’t. It’s fate. Fate. Fate.

The word twists the cloud fogging his vision, the ugly color that formed of the mixed blues and reds turns darker, until an inky black is creeping into his vision. Fate, he hates the word, he hates the inevitability, he hates himself for dancing right along with the strings that have been placed on him by the cruel gods above, even when he knew what would happen if he did. The weight of the gun hidden in his jacket starts to weigh all the more heavily, his fingers twitch toward it, desperate to feel the familiar weight of it in his hand. And then-

And then the elevator dings.

Dazai’s gaze cuts to the side, sharp and cold, and it’s only when the elevator doors slide open and your pretty laugh rings through the air that Dazai’s world is finally set straight again. The color returns, the numbness disappears, the void is pushed away for another day. His eyes land on you, and the bright smile painted on your lips as you bound back into his penthouse.

“You’re back early!” you say, delighted, and Dazai can only hope and pray that you can’t tell how badly he’s spiraled because you weren’t around. He thinks you can, of course you can, because your smile falters a bit but then it brightens again as you make your way over to him and-

Oh.

All of the tension in his body melts away as you make your way over to him with a skip in your step and lean up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Dazai lets out a breath, too sharp and too shaky for you to not notice with how close you are to his face, but he can hardly bring himself to care as he brings trembling hands to wrap around your waist. He basks in the feeling of your warmth and if any of the numbness had threatened to linger, it’s certainly gone now as he calms himself down by setting his heart in pace with yours as he feels it thump steadily against his chest.

“Where did you go?” His voice is hoarse, as much as he tries to make the question seem light.

“You have no food, Dazai,” you complain, and you don’t seem to care that he’s definitely hugging you for a bit too long, propping your chin on his chest to look up at him. “Plus, as fancy as your penthouse is, I can’t sit around in the same place for days. I wanted to go out on a walk. So I ran to the store to pick up some groceries. I thought I’d make it back before you, I wanted to try to make something for dinner. I saw a pasta recipe while I was scrolling through Instagram that I want to try out, although I should probably test it out on my own before feeding you any. It usually takes me a few tries to get a recipe down and the first few attempts are more akin to toxic waste than actual food…”

You ramble, probably because you can tell how out of it he is and it’s scary how easily you can see through him because he thinks it’s only a matter of time before you see through to what he really is. But for now, he lets his eyes slide shut as he loses himself in your voice, and he feels silly for thinking that you would leave without saying anything.

He knows you better than anyone else in the world. Anyone else in any world. Maybe even better than you yourself. He should have known better. You would never do that, no matter what you learn about him, no matter what he does. It’s not who you are—you’re always so stringent on communication, you can’t sleep until an argument is settled properly. It’s something he’s hated in other universes, because he’s flighty and can’t handle confrontation, but he thinks it’s something that he should rely on in this one, because he knows that no matter what you might learn, you’ll always sit down to give him the chance of a proper conversation rather than just ghosting him.

He spiraled for nothing.

He’s not drawn back to the present until he hears:

“... and Chuuya is so cool, by the way. Why didn’t you introduce me to him sooner? He has an ability, I’ve never met an ability user before. I made him carry all of the groceries, and he did it like it was nothing. Gravity manipulation? Did you know in undergrad, I wanted to major in physics—I tried to actually, but had to drop 101 because apparently my brain is not cut out for the sciences. Or mathematics. It was kind of embarrassing actually, who has to drop out of a 101 class?”

In your spiel, only one word—one name—matters. His eyes reopen, he makes sure to keep his body lax in your arms as you lean against him so you can’t feel his sudden shift in mood. His gaze is cold and cutting again, lifting from you to behind you, where he finally lays his eyes upon the person with you.

Chuuya stands there, dozens of grocery bags hanging off his arms, a faint red glow around each of them signaling that he’s using his ability. Dazai’s expression is lethal as he stares at his executive, but Chuuya’s lip only curls up in a half-snarl, as if daring Dazai to say anything, before he makes his way out of the elevator to bring the grocery bags into his kitchen.

And Dazai can’t say anything, not this time, because he’s already figured out what happened: you must have tried to leave on your own when Gin was busy because you were bored, and Chuuya ran into you and tagged along so you wouldn’t be defenseless should someone target you to get to him, in spite of how he feels about you and your presence in the building.

Dazai bites his tongue, for once, and instead focuses back down at you. His expression softens when he catches you looking up at him, curious, and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You should have texted me,” he murmurs. “I would’ve told you I had a quick day today, we could’ve gone together.”

Your expression twists a bit in irritation. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I did text you,” you say, indignant, and Dazai’s brows furrow and you immediately draw back to pull out your phone. He misses your warmth instantly, but forces away the longing. Your lips part a bit as you look down at the screen, a sheepish expression on your face as you say: “... I thought I texted you, evidently, it did not go through.”

Dazai lets out a puff of air, half-amusement, half-disbelief, because of course it was a matter of miscommunication, and he thinks again that he should have known better. Logically, what he assumed was so unlikely that it shouldn’t have even crossed his mind, but evidently, you turning him into an illogical and emotional fool is something universal across all of the different worlds.

But he still remembers the one fleeting thought he had earlier—that you were bored, and probably lonely sitting up here all day, especially when Gin is busy dealing with Port Mafia matters. This is bound to happen again, and next time, he might not be lucky enough to have someone catch you slipping out of the building.

So, he’ll have to do something about it himself, make sure you’re not bored enough to leave the building and unwittingly place yourself in danger, he decides, pleased.

“Would you…” Dazai hesitates as he looks down at you, uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head to the side curiously. “Would you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?”

A smile splits across your face.

“Is that even a question?”

Dazai’s woken up by someone shaking his shoulder.

Realistically, he knows that no enemy is able to make it to the top level of the Port Mafia’s most well-protected tower—it’s impenetrable, if the masses of armed guards on the lower floors aren’t enough to keep out intruders, then the Black Lizards on the middle floors would be more than enough, and if even they aren’t, Atsushi and Chuuya are stationed on the higher floors, ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. Still, he’s startled, unsure of who would be in his office waking him up at this time and caught off guard because he hadn’t even meant to fall asleep, so instinctively, he’s reaching for the gun hidden at his side, eyes a bit wild as he jolts up, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Sorry.” He only settles down when he hears your voice coming from his side, apologetic and little over a whisper as to not alarm him anymore than he already is. Instantly, his fingers loosen around the grip of his gun, a lump in his throat when he realizes that he almost pulled a gun on you. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Dazai shakes his head as soon as your words process, still trying to gather his bearings. He’s in his office, he must’ve fell asleep while looking over paperwork at his desk—plans for the upcoming event hosted by Nabokov, and a list of all of the possible informants that could be leaking information to Dostoevsky’s rats because one too many of the Port Mafia’s warehouse’s have been raided by the military police in the past few weeks for Dazai to be comfortable with, and he knows Dostoevsky is behind it because the man has been leaving little clues like it’s some sort of game to him. Dazai thinks that they should just kill all of the suspects and be done with it—if someone is even being suspected of having betrayed the Port Mafia, then they’re doing something severely wrong, but Kouyou advised him to go about this the right way.

Subtly, so as to not draw your attention, he shifts to cover the papers and then gives you his full attention, curious as to what you’re doing up so early because the sun hasn’t even risen yet. He’s been trying to make sure that he wakes up before you so that you don’t come looking for him in here, knowing where this is the most likely place where you’d stumble upon something that incriminates him as a mafioso rather than a businessman.

“You didn’t,” he lies through his teeth, voice a bit hoarse from sleep. “Is something wrong?”

You’re still dressed in your pajamas, but you have a fluffy rube wrapped around you and a soft smile on your face that makes Dazai’s chest swell. Your eyes are bright, gleaming with a type of excitement that has him tilting his head in curiosity, waiting to see what you have to say.

“Do you have access to the roof of the building?” you ask him, voice still hushed but tinged with more enthusiasm. When he nods, a smile splits across your face. “Can we go up there?”

Dazai doesn’t have the willpower to deny you anything, so there’s no hesitation as he says: “Of course.” But then as he rises to his feet, pulling on his long, black coat that he’d shrugged off at some point last night, he looks at you and asks, “Why?”

“I like watching sunrises,” you say, bounding over to the elevator and waiting for him to follow. He does, of course. He would follow you anywhere. Everywhere. He dreads the day you go somewhere he can’t follow. It’s inevitable—he doesn’t believe in the existence of heaven, but if there is one, you would go there, and he won’t. There’s too much blood on his hands, staining his skin no matter how much he scrubs it raw, and the blood that runs within him is black and corrupted, beyond any type of remedy. “I want to see one from the highest point in the city.”

Oh. Dazai’s heart leaps to his throat when he realizes what’s about to happen, pulling his access key from his pocket and swiping it against the pad to allow access to the roof. Some things differ across all of the universes: the way you meet him (although you’re always the one to find him), the way you die (he always finds you though), sometimes it takes a while for the two of you to progress past the friends stage, but it’s usually not too long.

Everything varies except for one thing: the sunrises. In every universe, you have an obsession with them: you like watching them, seeing as many new ones as you possibly can. You explained to him once that it was because it helps you move forward, gives you hope, a reason to wake up each morning. The infatuation with them began after your brother’s death in the other universes when you couldn’t find any reason to keep going on your own so you sought one out in the sunrises—although this is something you only opened up to him about in one universe, in all of the others, you’ve hidden your past struggles with depression from him. He’s not sure why, maybe just because you don’t want to burden him with them.

It would be just like you, trying to share the weight of all of his burdens but shouldering yours on your own.

He wonders if you’ll tell him in this one. He wonders what made that universe’s Dazai so special. He feels viciously jealous and for a moment, irrationally hates his other self, only finding solace in the fact that all of the other Dazais would probably feel just as scorned over the fact that only one of them got special treatment.

He thinks you can sense the deterioration of his thoughts, because you reach out and lace your fingers with his as you lean against the back of the elevator, waiting to get to the top floor. His grip on your hand is a bit too tight, he thinks, but it keeps him grounded. You’re here. You’re with him. All of the other universes don’t matter. Only this one does.

His lips part to speak, to fill the silence, but no words leave them. He thinks he’s spoken more these past two months with you than he has in his entire life. He never has any desire to speak unless he’s with you, and then he’ll find any reason to speak if it means he can hear your voice.

“You don’t have to sleep in your office, you know?” you say abruptly, voice quiet. You’re not looking at him, he wonders if you’re embarrassed at whatever you’re about to say because you hesitate as you add, “I know I’ve pretty much commandeered your room but… I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you. This is your place, you should be comfortable too.”

Dazai thinks his face might be on fire, all of the air whooshing from his lungs at your words because of course, it’s something he’s thought of, dreamed of, but he never imagined you would just offer it up like that. He’s quiet for too long, evidently, because you seem to be more embarrassed. Just as he’s about to force something out, the elevator doors slide open and you’re rushing forward, yanking him along, as if to pretend you never said anything and Dazai can’t help the small smile that curves onto his lips.

“That would be nice,” he tells you quietly, he doesn’t know if you hear but he thinks you do because your grip on his hand tightens.

The air is bitterly cold as high up as the two of you are, and the wind is wicked. He thinks that you’re definitely not dressed warm enough, a robe isn't nearly enough to shield from this type of cold, but you look unbothered, an exhilarated smile painted on your face as you drag him dangerously close to the edge of the roof, and Dazai can’t help the way his anxiety spikes—not for his sake, but for yours. His grip on your hand tightens a bit but you only plop down at the edge of the roof, tugging his arm gently as a way of beckoning him to sit with you.

He does. Of course, he does.

His legs dangle off the side of the roof, thigh pressed against yours, and you keep your fingers laced with his, holding his hand on your lap. You stare ahead, eyes bright and excited as you wait for the sunrise. He stares at you, captivated. A part of him is still convinced this is all some twisted dream that his mind conjured to torture him—that he’s going to wake up slumped over on his desk to an empty apartment with only the faint memory of you to console himself with.

Desperately, he wonders if there were any other universes like this, if this is just another spiral into the pages of the Book, just one more intense and more vivid than all of the rest. He knows there were universes where he stayed with the Port Mafia, universes where he became its boss—but he was older in those, in his mid or late twenties. No, this is his universe, it has to be, right? Right?

He doesn’t realize that his grip on your hand has tightened until you look over at him, and instantly, he loosens it, but you only tighten yours in response. Your eyes meet his and suddenly Dazai is breathless, unsure of what to say or do. You always look at him as if you’re looking into him, not at him, not like everyone else. It’s unnerving. He hates it. He loves it.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, knocking your shoulder into his.

The smile on his face doesn’t necessarily meet his eyes, but the words he speaks are probably the most genuine that he’s ever uttered in his entire life. “When I’m with you? Always.”

Your expression softens, although he can’t help but notice that you don’t seem entirely placated by his response. He’s grateful that you don’t push though, because he doesn’t want to lie to you. You lean over though, resting your head on his bicep, and his breath hitches when you bring your free hand to your lap too, cradling his hand in both of yours. He forces himself to look ahead again, not wanting you to see the way his visible eye has suddenly become misty.

You trace absent patterns on his skin as you wait for the sun to break over the horizon and Dazai is lost to his thoughts once more, heart suddenly clogging his throat as he realizes that yes, this is his universe and yes, you are here. With him. He doesn’t have to cling to the vague memories of your warm touch and sweet words, not when you’re sitting next to him and giving him them now. Why is he trying to drift off into the pages when he has you here? In a universe where Dazai was certain he’d never experience the tenderness your presence brought him, he should be savoring this.

“Gin told me the other day that you guys are having trouble with a rival company,” you say quietly, and that draws him back to the present, brows furrowing as he wonders just how much Gin told you, mind racing as he tries to figure out where exactly this conversation is going. “That you guys are trying to prepare for an event they’re hosting in a week. I don’t want you to… worry about me or anything while you’re busy getting ready for all of that… Maybe that’s a bit presumptuous of me to assume but I just… I don’t know. I know you’ve been stressed about it, I don’t want to put more on you.”

Dazai lets out a quiet puff of air. “You see right through me, don’t you?” he murmurs, voice gentle and fond as his gaze drifts over you. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t put any stress on me.”

You look a bit flustered at his words, glancing down at your lap, at where his fingers are still laced with yours. You squeeze them tighter for a second and then look back out at the horizon. “... I’m glad,” you tell him softly. “I’ll keep out of your way the weekend of, though. I already talked to one of my friends, she’s going to let me stay with her for the weekend. Well. Assuming my apartment isn’t fixed by then. I still can’t believe it’s taking so long.”

The fondness is gone. Dazai’s world crashes and burns.

It’s only sheer willpower that prevents his sudden burst of anxiety from showing on his face. He turns his gaze out to the horizon now, staring ahead as he tries to figure out how to tell you no without sounding psychotic.

His tongue presses to the roof of his mouth, the nails of his free hand scrape painfully against the rooftop as he desperately tries to fumble together a plan. You cannot leave the tower the night of the event. There’s already a high chance that Dostoevsky knows about you—Dazai knows there’s a spy in the Port Mafia and he doesn’t know if they’ve spotted you around the base. You’ve been leaving the headquarters more frequently during the day since that day with Chuuya; Dazai is never able to join you but he makes sure that Tachihara, Chuuya or Atsushi are with you on the chance that you’re targeted.

If he’s being realistic, there’s no shot that Dostoevsky doesn’t know of you already, and if you’re out and about while the entire Port Mafia is readying for this event… No one would be left for him to station a protection detail on you, and it would be just like Dostoevsky to capitalize on that as he has in so many other universes, having you killed when no one is around to protect you.

God, is this it?

The words ring through his head. Cold. Damning. His bones feel as if they’d been thrown into a blast chiller and stuck back inside of his body. His stomach churns. Is this it? Is this how it’s going to happen?

He can’t let it happen. How does he prevent it?

How does he prevent it?

He thinks there’s only one way, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth because it’s nearly as risky as letting you go off on your own, the only difference being that he would at least have some semblance of control over the situation.

“Oh,” he finally forces out, the words sound distant and hoarse even to his own ears.

You look at him. Fatal. You can always read right through him, he has to make his decision quick.

“You sound… disappointed,” you say hesitantly.

He makes his decision, and he prays to any god that will listen that it doesn’t backfire.

“I was… going to ask you to be my date to the event, actually,” he says, careful to not look at you and give you even more of a window into his mind. He feels the way you straighten at his words. Hooked. He continues with, “... but if you already made plans with your friend…”

“Really?” you breathe out, your grip on his hand is tight, he can feel the way your fingers are trembling around his.

“Really,” he tells you softly, finally daring to look at you.

Your eyes are shining, the expression on your face so open and unguarded that Dazai almost feels bad for lying, but you don’t have to know the truth, that the only reason he’s inviting you with him is because he can’t have you going out and about alone. Not now. Not until Dostoevsky is dead.

But once Dostoevsky is dead, then what about all of the other threats? Agatha Christie? All of the enemies he’s made in this lifetime? When does it end?

He can’t think about that right now. He has to tackle the issue at hand first.

You turn your head to look back out at the horizon, a smile edging at the corners of your lips. “I would love to be your date,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

But he does, and he can’t hold back a relieved breath this time as he squeezes your hand.

A comfortable silence washes over the two of you as you wait for the sunrise, and Dazai doesn’t think he’s ever felt more at home. He’s still tired, undoubtedly; he hadn’t meant to fall asleep last night because he knew damn well that he’d only be more tired when he woke up, it would’ve been easier to just stay up the whole night. But now, he’s so at ease with you that he could almost fall back asleep—and that’s a feat in itself because Dazai hardly sleeps, and never feels comfortable enough to do so, he only ever sleeps when he's too exhausted to keep going. You’re so warm, so home, how could his eyes not start drooping shut?

“You know why they’re so great?” you suddenly ask, drawing him out of the drowsy state he was threatening to fall into. You’re still looking ahead, but he’s looking back down at you now.

It’s close—the sun is about to rise, and he doesn’t care to see it himself, he cares to see you. He wants to see how the orange hues reflect in your eyes, the way your skin glows beneath the golden rays; he thinks it’s a holy experience, Dazai has felt the whirlwind of emotions that all of the other Dazais go through the first time they see you beneath the rising sun and he never thought he’d be able to feel it for himself.

“Because no two are ever the same?” His voice is soft and hesitant, and he’s not thinking as he speaks. He doesn’t even register what he said until you’re pulling your head off of his shoulder to look at him again, eyes wide, delighted.

“Yeah!” You toss him such a stunning smile that it almost physically dazes him. “You get it.”

He doesn’t have the heart to admit that he’s a fraud, closing in on himself a bit, but you don’t notice, head turning straight again.

“They give me something to look forward to,” you say, a bit quieter again. Your gaze is distant as you look out into the sky, as if you’re seeing something that’s not actually there. “I want to see as many of them as I can.”

Dazai once tried to find the same comfort in sunrises that you did. It was when he first came up with his plan and he realized that he’d never get the chance to be with you, and he’d never get the chance to call Odasaku a friend. He came up here, actually, and watched the sunrise in this very spot. It was bitter and cold. It made him sick to his stomach. It made him feel emptier than he already was. And he realized that there was no beauty or appeal to them unless you were at his side.

“We should…”

You trail off as you turn to look at him again suddenly and Dazai’s lips part to warn you that you’re going to miss the best part—your favorite part, as you’ve told him (not him) over and over again. But the words die on his tongue as the sun breaks over the horizon and wow, he understands it.

He understands it. God, he understands it. Everything he’s felt through the other Dazais pale in comparison to the sight before him and how it entirely devastates the thin thread of control he has on his emotions whenever he’s with you. Enamored. Captivated. His chest feels tight and his throat feels swollen and Dazai is in love. He is so completely and irrevocably in love that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to recover.

Suddenly, he understands why so many of the other Dazais have come to terms with their feelings for you at this moment.

The sunrise washes over you and Dazai thinks you’re utterly angelic. Your eyes reflect the myriad of colors sweeping over the horizon, your skin glows beneath the red and gold hues. You’re beautiful, unreally so. Too divine for someone like him to lay his tainted fingers upon. He’s suddenly hyper aware of how his shoulder is brushing yours and how your fingers are laced with his. He thinks he should pull away, spare you from his putrid touch, but he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he doesn’t want to, because he’s so wholly selfish that he would rather condemn you to ruin than part from you.

“We should watch them together,” you finally say, and your eyes don’t leave his and you’re missing the sunrise but you don’t seem to mind, searching his face desperately for an answer.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for your words to process, but when they do, Dazai thinks there’s no way he’s going to be able to hide the sudden urge he feels to cry.

“Yeah,” he says. His voice cracks, he can’t even bring himself to care. “Yeah, we should.”

Nakahara Chuuya is livid when he gets a notification to his phone about the roof suddenly being accessed, knowing damn well only one other person can get up there. The vibrations from his phone wake him up, and then the subsequent spike of panic that shoots through him when he realizes what the notification is and what the implications of it are is more than enough to have him throwing himself out of bed and sprinting up the stairs, realizing that the elevator will take far too long.

It takes him a total of two minutes to get up to the roof from the thirty-second floor, and by the time he gets there, he’s so full of rage that Chuuya feels like he might explode. The last time Dazai went up to the roof, he was six bottles deep and Chuuya was hardly able to grab him before he toppled over the edge, and Chuuya is not in the mood to deal with that this early in the morning.

Chuuya hadn’t thought this would be an issue now, not with you here because although Chuuya still doesn’t know quite who you are or how you’ve managed to get Dazai Osamu under your thumb, he knows that Dazai is not the Dazai that Chuuya knows whenever you’re around. And Chuuya doesn’t get it, you’re nice enough, pleasant to talk to and pleasant to look at, but he doesn’t think that there’s anything special about you. Not special enough to have Dazai so entirely enamored by you that he’s starting to put the Port Mafia second, at least.

Apparently not enamored enough to stop from getting shit-faced and suicidal, though.

Chuuya’s jaw tightens as he pushes open the door to the roof and-

And he freezes.

The fury slowly starts to dissipate as he catches sight of where you’re sitting at the edge of the roof with Dazai as the sun finally starts to rise. He thinks he should leave, go back down and get a few more hours of sleep before he has to meet Kouyou and Hirotsu at ten to go over the protection details for the event Nabokov is hosting, but he can’t help the way he hesitates, watching how absolutely infatuated Dazai looks as the sun rays sweep over you. Less like the cold and cruel boss of the Port Mafia that Chuuya’s become used to over the past few years, and more like the kid he met at fifteen, the one who disappeared and turned into a shell of himself after a few months of Chuuya knowing him.

Chuuya never understood why. The only time he ever got close was that night on the roof when he started breaking down after Chuuya stopped him from jumping, but even then Dazai refused to explain anything to him. It pissed him off, honestly, because they were supposed to be partners. Chuuya was supposed to have the asshole’s back, no matter how infuriating he may be, but something changed a few months before Dazai’s sixteenth birthday and whatever it was, it entirely killed off anything left of the Dazai that Chuuya knew. No matter how much he demanded to know what happened, Dazai blew him off—dismissive at first, then cruelly, until Chuuya finally had enough and let it be.

If he wanted to go off and be a husk of himself, then so be it, far be it from Chuuya to stop him.

But now…

Chuuya lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head, drawing his eyes from where Dazai is looking at you as if you’re the only thing in the world that matters, stars in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips, to look up at the sky. He supposes it doesn’t quite matter if he doesn’t understand what’s so special about you to make Dazai act like this, just the fact that you do is enough—and if it turns out this is all some scheme by one of the Port Mafia’s enemies to get close to Dazai, Chuuya will do what he has to do. He always does.

He thinks he should still grab Dazai—if Chuuya remembers correctly, he has a meeting with Ace in twenty minutes, but he takes one last look at where you’re sitting with him and lets out another heavy sigh, shaking his head and deciding that he’ll just handle the meeting. He’s been meaning to have a word with the man about his business in eastern Russia anyway.

He closes the door quietly, heading back inside, all of the lingering resentment and anger washed away; he lets Dazai indulge, if only because he knows nothing good ever lasts in this line of work. It’s only a matter of time before his luck runs out.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you

372 notes · View notes

miabebe · 6 months

Text

Where you return

Scenario - After almost a year of no contact, you meet an old fling at a wedding

Pairing - model! Reader × racer! Mingyu, model! Reader x pilot! Wonwoo

Word Count - 7K

Warnings - Switch! Mingyu, Brat tamer! Wonwoo, Oral (f receiving), ties, fingering (self), protected sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, mild angst

So let's talk about fuck buddies Mingyu and Wonwoo,

You've been getting the strange feeling of being watched for a long time now but it genuinely surprises you when you scour the crowd and your eyes meet Mingyu's. His presence takes you aback for a bit but you guess it makes sense that he was invited to the wedding of two of Seoul’s most famous celebrities. You're still surprised though, that of all the people in the wedding, he's looking at you.

You smile at him, giving a small wave, just to be polite, for old times sake. The way he smiles back has your heart clenching - you miss him. You really really miss him. But when you see him walk towards you, you excuse yourself away from there. Not again, never again.

You try to avoid him pretty much all day but every time you sneak a glance at him, he's already looking at you. You can tell he wants to talk, you can tell he's upset that you're not giving him a chance but you can't afford to. It took you months to finally be in a space where you had got it together. If you let him in again, this time, it would break you.

Your attempts weren't successful for long though.

When the cocktail party starts, you grab a small bite of hors d'oeuvres and take a walk around the hotel, settling down on a small bench in the garden, staring at the strangely cut grass. You could really do with a drink but you have a shoot tomorrow evening; you figure it would be better to not indulge in alcohol right now. But even after so long, as though he had read your mind, you see a pair of shoes walk up to you and beer bottle being held out.

You look up at Mingyu, knowing he's finally caught up, leaving you without an escape so you simply take the bottle from him and set it aside. Mingyu settles on the bench next to you, not too close like you meant something to each other but also not far enough to be considered strangers.

The first thing he asks is if you changed your number and you nod. He probably didn't expect you to completely disappear from his life the day you confessed you can't keep sleeping with him anymore but you did what you had to save your sanity. He then asks how you've been. You say you've been fine. You really have. You've been a lot busier than usual - you've got more brand deals and shows and shoots lined up for the next 6 months, you managed to move out from that little shared space with your girlfriends and find your own place, you were meeting people, going on dates, it was all going great.

Mingyu confesses he's not been too well. You knew that, you saw the news. Ferrari's most famous F1 racer takes an indefinite break to tend to his health. You always knew between racing, dieting and working out, Mingyu was struggling with his health so you were glad he took some time off for himself but now that you see him, you can tell he's far less happier being on a hiatus. You want to offer him comforting words but you've never really been good at that so you just hold his hand and stroke it softly. You instantly regret it because the look he gives you breaks your heart a little - you know what he needs, you know you can give it to him. But it would mean you break all over again.

Mingyu searches your eyes for some response, leaning closer. It takes every fibre in your body to move away from him softly shaking your head. But when he softly whispers please, you can't help but give in, allowing him to press his lips onto yours. First he's softly kissing then slowly devouring you to the point you couldn't breathe anymore - it's electrifying, it's dizzying, it's reminiscent. When he finally parts from you, he buries his face your neck, muttering how much he missed this. You chuckle, asking if none of his other fuck buddies kissed him. He claims he hasn't slept with anyone since you left and you freeze.

Why, why, why now?

The first time you saw Mingyu was 3 years ago. He had just won the Italian Grand Prix and was celebrating with his team in the very hotel you were staying at during calender shoot in Milan. The exact moment you first locked eyes with him was when he walked past you at the hotel lobby with his arms swung over the shoulders of two of your fellow colleagues. When you saw them the next morning, they could barely walk which wasn't ideal given "the walk" was practically the biggest part of modelling, yet somehow you wanted a taste of that. The following few days when you kept bumping into him, you could tell he had his eyes on you, but you were in no hurry. You wanted to see how this would pan out.

Eventually, after a whole lot of seductive glances and deliberate smirks, you found yourself under him having quite literally some of the most mind blowing orgasms of your life. Apparently Mingyu was just as satisfied because the morning after, when you exchanged identities and he discovered you too were based in Seoul, he proposed the two of make this recurring occurrence. From that day then on, the two of you had a lot of sex, pretty often and pretty intensely. The underlying message was always clear though - it was just sex. You were aware it wasn't exclusive and that he was sleeping with other people but you weren't - Mingyu gave you what you needed and more.

But you never understood if sex was all he wanted from you, why he never behaved like a fuck buddy? Why he made you stay the night and made sure you got a good night's sleep? Why he always woke you up to the best possible breakfast? Why he cooked for you on some nights, why he talked to you about his life, why he showed you sides of him that he never showed the world? How on earth were you not supposed to fall in love with him?

But love was not on the table in this arrangement. Not only for some ridiculous reason was it against his contract, Mingyu was not interested in dating anyone - he simply wanted to sleep around. And now he tells you he doesn't want anyone else?

You might be willing to put your body in his hands one more time but you could not do that to your heart and that's why, you peel yourself away from him muttering you have a long day tomorrow and should turn in for the night. Mingyu walks you back into the hotel, following a few feet away, perhaps just heading back to his own room. But just in case, to make matters clear, you tell him one more time that you have no intention of picking up from where this messy relationship was left off. He says he understands.

He always understands. Everytime you cancelled on him because of work commitments, he said your career was more important, he understands. Everytime he was in the mood and you weren't, he said that was totally okay, he understands. 1 year ago when you told him you were catching feelings, he said given the nature of your relationship, its natural, he understands. When it was apparent that he didn't feel the same way and you proposed to end this arrangement, yet again, he understood. He always said he understood, yet you feel like he never really did. He really didn't know how just how much felt for him.

Before he leaves, just so you can stop wondering, you stop him to ask one last question. Why didn't he sleep with anyone else after you? He says he didn't want anyone else. He steps closer and says nothing ever felt like what they shared. If it were up to him, he would've never let it end. You're not sure if he means just sex or more. Either ways, your resolve breaks and you make the stupid move of pulling him into the empty lift with you, pushing him up against the wall, kissing him with a passion that was somehow still so alive between both of you.

It's miraculous, the way you managed to reach your room without taking your hands or mouths off each other. You do notice that even the scattered presence of people in the corridor didn't make Mingyu pull away from you - till a year ago he did all he could to not be seen with you. He must really need this tonight.

The moment you step into the room though, he parts from you only for long enough to kick his shoes off and strip off his dinner jacket. When you unzip your evening gown and slip it off you shoulders, Mingyu let's out a groan. He hadn't realised you were wearing garter belts underneath that, he didn't think he could possibly be more turned on right now. You expect him to kiss you once again but instead he pushes you against the wall and falls to his knees before you, running his hand down your leg, mouth hot on the insides of your thigh. Your hands struggle between running through his hair and trying to hold on to something, anything behind you. It becomes a whole lot worse when he throws a leg over his shoulder and latches his mouth over the cloth of your thong which was already barely covering anything. Not only were you already craving this man for months now, but with the mere sight of him looking up at you from between you legs, it takes barely a few ministrations of his mouth and with a shudder you fall apart.

You can feel his canines against your thigh as he smirks, glad you're still so reactive to him before letting you go, only to turn you around, your hands palming the wall. He whispers a soft fuck as he moves aside the little cloth and runs his tongue between your folds making you practically shake at the overstimulation. Sensing you need a minute, he moves his attention to your ass, placing butterfly kisses on the cheeks as his fingers work the belts of your garter, pulling it down with your stockings.

As you step out of them, you turn to him and pull him up to his feet by his collar, untying his tie as he unbuttoned his shirt. Through the most part of your arrangement with Mingyu, things mostly went his way. You'd meet whenever he was free, whenever he wanted to meet, wherever it was convenient and safe for him. Not this time. This time you wanted the upper hand and you'd take it.

Mingyu complies, watching curiously as you push him towards the bed and onto it. Taking his hands you whisper you want to try something and he nods lazily but his eyes widen as you tie his wrists together with his tie. Instructing him to scoot back, you undo his belt, pulling down the remainder of his clothes, as he leaned back against the head board. He's practically gaping at you standing at the edge of the bed, slowly taking off your bra then your thong, the remnants of your earlier orgasm leaking down your thigh, making his mouth literally go dry. It takes everything and more for Mingyu to stop himself from pinning you down and eating you out. You are all he wanted. Needed.

You get on the bed, crawling on top of him, legs on either side, your face was hovering just a little above his, grabbing his painfully hard erection. You see he's biting his lip, holding back his groans as you run your thumb over his slit, sliding on a condom which he didn't even notice you unwrap. Promising to suck him off good in a bit, something he knew you particularly enjoyed, you align him under you, slowly sinking down his length, I really really need you to be inside me right now.

Its been so long, Mingyu missed you so bad - the way you felt around him, just the sight of you so close to him, the sound of you as he practically split you open, your warmth no longer accustomed to the size of him. It makes him mad that he allowed this to happen, that he let you walk away from him. He swears he'll fix it - he will treat you so good tonight, your body would never forget him. You would never forget him. But for now, he'll let you use him however you want - you deserve it and he knows eventually, you'll cave in and he was willing to wait however long that takes.

When you finally adjust to his girth, you start moving, grinding your hips, soft whimpers leaving you and he asks if you're okay, if it feels good. You simply nod, moaning in response, and Mingyu encourages you to move however you want, struggling to keep his hands to himself instead of grabbing your hips, and slamming himself into you, hitting those sweet spots that were still committed to his memory. For now, he resorts to grabbing your boob in whatever angle he can manage only for it to be smacked away.

Hands to yourself, you can put that mouth to use.

Oh gladly.

Mingyu immediately takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it and your hands leave the headboard and thread into his hair, gripping the roots, lost in pleasure. It takes two words, Mark me, for Mingyu to finally snap out of his compliant facade, mouth, tongue, teeth, all working madly against your skin. You never used to let him mark you, it was hard to cover up when you worked but somehow today you don't care. You want him to take you in any and all ways possible, you want him to claim you - few hours of make up would take care of the rest.

You can tell his hands are itching to grab you as you pick the pace, the knot in you tightening. Pulling away from him, you lean back, one hand taking support of his thigh behind you, another rubbing circles on your clit, trying to chase the feeling in the new found angle and Mingyu thinks he might just go crazy. He loves it. He loves seeing your pretty eyes roll back for him, he loves seeing the red marks blooming on your neck and breasts, he loves the way your lips part and the moans spill. You are a masterpiece and he has been such an idiot.

He can tell by the loss of rhythm that you were close so he moves aside your hand and works your clit himself. Part of you wants to take his hands and pin them above his head and ride him to oblivion but you don't think you can, you don't think you have it in you, not when he's making you feel this good. Untying his knot, and throwing his tie away, you whisper please, begging him to help and finally, finally he takes control but much to your disappointment, he pulls you off him. Just for a second though, before he flips you over, your back hitting the bed and he's looming above you, plunging back into your heat, so fast and so deep, you almost black out right there. You beg him to keep going and he promises not to stop, groaning that you feel so good around him, you were so good for him. Within a few seconds you feel the coil snap inside you, your moans muffling against his shoulder, as he stilled, allowing you to ride out your high, feeling you clench around him in a way that made his head spin.

Come on baby, just a little more. He coos in your ear, hooking his hands around your legs, pushing your knees to your chest, ramming himself into you again and again, trying to reach his high before you were too overstimulated. But like a good girl you take it obediently, asking him if he really didn't sleep with anyone else and maybe you could consider letting him come inside you and just at the thought, Mingyu groans, emptying his load into the condom, still deep inside you.

He tries to catch his breath lying on top of you, head buried between your boobs as you softly stroke his hair. He had no idea if you were serious or if you were simply trying to rile him up to finish him off, but either ways, the first thing he's going to do the moment he steps out of here is get tested - he wants that offer to be on the table. For now though, he'll take what he can which was far more than what he thought he deserved - he would make up for everything. Anyways, the night was far from over - you promised him a blowjob and he was dying to taste you again.

After a very very long night, you wake up the next morning to Mingyu softly shaking you, whispering your name. Last night before you passed out in his arms, you made up your mind to one of two situations the next morning. Either Mingyu would be gone before you wake up, proving last night was indeed just a temporary distraction. Or he's ordered breakfast to the room as usual and was waiting for you, which meant nothing changed for him - he was still looking for the same thing from you.

Instead he looks like he came fresh out of the shower, and behind him, your suitcases are packed and stacked. Seeing you fully awake he flashes you a sweet smile, dropping a kiss on your forehead, reminding you that you had a flight to Tokyo soon. He tells you to freshen up while he brings your luggage down and helps you check out, and then he'll drive you to the airport. Looking at the watch, realising just how late you are, you panic and hurry to the bathroom as he leaves the room. When you finally make your way downstairs, he's sitting at the breakfast area, beckoning you over with two plates of food. Walking over to him, you smile.

But when Wonwoo sees you at the wedding, its a whole different story.

Is he supposed to feel angry, is he supposed to feel upset, Wonwoo has no idea. The way that guy is talking to you and the way you don't seem to mind, it makes him more uncomfortable than he can explain. He looks at the back of that greasy slimeballs head - the sheer audacity to assume he's even half as good enough for someone like you. But what can he do? It's not like he had the right to say anything.

Honestly, you are not the least bit interested in the overly gelled hair, child of a man before of you who was clearly trying to get into your pants. You're more interested in Wonwoo's reaction, rather in his lack of reaction to the, frankly, quite embarrassing act going on here. Truth be told, you're a little disappointed when he walks away.

Earlier today when you were getting dressed, you wondered if Wonwoo would attend the wedding - the town was a small place so of course everyone was invited to the pastor's daughter's wedding but Wonwoo was a busy man, particularly on Fridays. Seeing him here now though, you realise things have changed too much - his schedule, your relationship with him and the way he looks at you, it's all different now. You excuse yourself away from the twice your age neanderthal and walk out of the church, wondering why these changes were affecting you.

You were the one who ended your little arrangement almost a year ago. When you realised that Wonwoo's gestures were more than just what fuck buddies did for each other, you confronted him about it. He confessed he was starting to catch feelings, that it took him a while to realise but he thinks he's falling for you. You couldn't have that happen. You had made it very clear to him in the beginning itself - you didn't have the time for a relationship. You were still facing your early day struggles, trying to make a name for yourself in the modelling industry and you couldn't afford to be in a relationship. It would have been unfair to whoever you were with to only receive a part of you and never in whole because you didn't have the capacity to indulge another person in your life.

So rather than continuing to see him and constantly reminding him of what he can't have, you decided it was better to set him free and remove every trace of yourself from his life. And you did, apologising and disappearing over a year ago.

Seeing him at the wedding now though, was a bump in the road you didn't expect. You wanted him to move on, you wanted him to forget you and clearly he had done both, yet it bothered you. Weren't you worthy of at least a greeting? For the sake of being courteous? Sure you missed having sex with Wonwoo, god did he know your body like no one else, but you also just missed having his presence in your life. You feel unfairly stripped of something that wasn't even yours but it's fair enough, you left him. You don't get to walk back whenever you want, that's not your choice to make.

You turn around to go back in to find your girlfriends again when Wonwoo steps out of the doors, adjusting his glasses. You're surprised when he smiles at you, walking up, hands in his pockets. You smile too, taken aback by the interaction, as he strikes conversation about the weather. He also talks about the wedding, the groomsmen, the chaos with the misplaced ring that happened earlier - he's not making more or less conversation than usual, it's as though for him, nothing changed. When the topic of the guy earlier comes up, he laughs saying he was watching and would have swooped in if it looked like you needed any help. It's only when his phone rings that he excuses himself, promising to catch up later. You really do see it now. He was no longer in love with you.

As he walks off, Wonwoo realises that he was most definitely, still very much in love with you. It surprises him because over the last year he had been thinking of you less and less. He didn't resent you for turning him down - you always had the clarity he didn't. It was always meant to be about sex, he was the fool who emotionally invested himself. After you were gone, he took the time to really think and realign his life choices, pushing you to the lower ranks on his list. He thought he did a good job, in fact, he hadn't thought about you at all in the last 3 months but seeing you again today was like the dam he built to bottle everything in had finally cracked and burst open.

Sometimes Wonwoo hated how he felt for you. You were not some magical addition that came into his life and changed it for good, you were a part of it for as long as he could remember. As children the two of you didn't interact much - you lived a street down his house, he went to an all boys school and you to an all girls, your paths never crossed. He had heard of you from his friends though, you had quite the reputation for dating around but he only met you in high school when you were in a relationship with the captain of his school's football team. Back then Wonwoo wasn't the least bit interested in you. Sure he thought you were beautiful but he had his eyes on that cutie in the robotics team. After graduating high school, he didn't see you again, until 3 years ago, that night...

A part of you wishes that night never happened, then today it would make sense if Wonwoo was talking to you and treating you like you were just another acquaintance. Okay, maybe he doesn't love anymore but was he still not the least bit interested in you? Here you are, trying your best to supress your every urge watching him in his stupid white shirt with those stupid rolled up sleeves and that stupid vest synching his waist. Did he not feel the same for you?

Apparently not. Evidently all he's being is a gentleman. He rescued you from that guy from earlier on the dance floor by truly swooping in and taking you into his arms, only to politely let you go when the other man backed off. He offered to hold your flowers and help you with your dress as you walked out of the church, finally done for the day. He even drove you home, stopping right in front of your house, wishing you a good night.

You however didn't step out of the car, confessing that you didn't want to face your mother tonight - you were in no mood for a discussion on why everyone in the town but you seemed to be getting married. He first asked about crashing with any of your other friends for the night but when somehow all of them seemed improbable, he offered to take you to his house.

You had been to his house before, many many times in fact, during those two years. Though you were both based in Seoul and this town was about 2 hours away, on some weekends, Wonwoo would drive you here to see your mother. Since his parents lived with him in Seoul, his house here used to be empty and free for the two of you to fuck around whenever needed.

When you walk in, nothing much has changed, it's all just how you remember it. You wish it was the same between you and Wonwoo too but it isn't. He leads you to the guest room, handing you a fresh set of towels, mentioning some of your clothes from when you were last here are still in the cupboard if you want to change. Before you can ask him why he still has them, he disappears into his room, door softly shutting behind him. You wash up, looking through all that you left behind, each skimpier than the next. You settle with a pink satin set that's barely covering any of your chest, the shorts went way too high up your ass. Unfortunately that's the largest piece of fabric you own here.

You slip under the warm covers but somehow sleep is just not coming to you. There's too many overwhelming emotions - a strange sadness regarding Wonwoo, an undeniable loneliness seeing the happy couple in the wedding, and in general, a weird sense of purposelessness just suffocating you. Tossing and turning till you just can't take it anymore, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen, grab a snack that you know you shouldn't be having and sink into the couch.

You didn't think you were being too loud but about a minute later, Wonwoo makes his way down in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses, a worried look on his face. When his eyes fall on you though, you can see them slightly widen and his Adams apple bob. Maybe you had a little effect on him after all.....

You apologise and claim you weren't sleepy so he joins you with a snack of his own, sitting down on the couch opposite you. It's like the days the two of you used to hangout - just chilling in each other presence, engaged in casual conversation, laughing about the world around that always seemed so weird. Today too you talk about your school days and childhood in this town. You talk about where your other friends from high school were settled now. You talk about the two of you somehow managing to successfully chase your dreams. You talk about when the two of you met for the first time.

It was when you were flying to Paris for your first ever international show. Luck was clearly not on your side because there was some terrible mishap with the engine and fixing it would take all night. As you sat with the rest of the passengers, the cabin crew and pilots walked by and your eyes fell on the last man in the line. He looked so familiar, like someone you knew back home but you didn't want to assume. To your surprise, after a while, he sits down next to you, having changed out of his uniform into a simple tee and jeans, glasses sitting on his nose. It's then that you immediately recognise him, of course it was Wonwoo, the infamous gamer boy. You both end up engaging in deep conversation, first over coffee, then over dinner and then over a walk around the hotel the airline had assigned to you for the night. There was a strange tension between you two, maybe because of the mix of a familiarity and novelty and it was strong enough to have you moaning under him that night in his hotel room. And also the following day in your hotel room in Paris.

You had parted ways after that, simply exchanging socials until one day about a month later, he messaged you that like you, he too was in Milan. You promised yourself to behave and that you would just meet for a meal. But the moment you turned up in that low V neck black dress of yours and saw him in that black shirt that fit him oh so well, you knew neither of you were really here for dinner so you both immediately headed back to your room, getting tangled in the sheets, fucking each other all night instead. The third time was in Seoul itself, during the after party of a brand launch. That time the two of you barely waited till you reached a room - he made you fall apart around him in his car till the windows fogged up before he took you home and had you again. After that, it was pretty evident that the two of you liked having sex with each other. You don't really remember who suggested the idea but you do remember discussing how as of now, relationships were more of a burden than a pleasure and that being fuck buddies was probably the best idea.

That went on for 2 years. You'd call on each other whenever you were free, sometimes at home, sometimes in other countries when your schedules coincided - those were so much more thrilling. You did actually spend time with each other outside sex too - you'd get take outs at night, you'd take the city tour bus together, you hung out at clubs. It was all going great till that night when you ended it.

To your surprise, Wonwoo softly says it was a little unfair of you to end things that day. You might have thought you were protecting him from being hurt but he was no child. He didn't expect you to like him back nor did he want to change the nature of your relationship - he too was not willing to be in a relationship if you remembered right, he flew too frequently to dedicate time for anyone. You did remember, you knew, yet you were scared of somehow damaging him if you allowed yourself to stick around him for your own selfish reasons. He says he wished you let him figure things out on his own rather than making the decision for him like he was some irresponsible high schooler and not a mature adult.

For a minute you don't know what to say. He was right, you did what you thought was best, never really taking into consideration what he thought. In your attempt to save him from pain, you had stupidly ended up hurting him because of a decision you made over a split second.

Sitting up, you apologise. You were inconsiderate and hasty and you shouldn't have been. Honestly, you never wanted it end, you were in fact happiest when you were with him. Even that day, you had come to him with something specific in mind.....

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow in question but you shake your head. After he encourages you to tell him a few times, you finally, softly whisper and it's followed by dead silence. You start panicking and to make things worse, he excuses himself, gets up and leaves you there, all alone. Bringing your knees to your chest, you bury your face in it - why why why did you have to open your mouth?

He returns though, clearing his throat to let you know he's here and when you look up surprised, your lips part in awe and insides clench in desire. He's wearing his uniform.

You had only ever seen him in it once, specifically the day you first saw him. He was always incredibly cautious and careful with it but your mind had envisioned him taking you wearing that way too many times. The day you left him, you thought of bringing up the idea but the conversation had spiraled into something else entirely.

You mutter that it's unfair that all you get to do is look and he cocks his head at you, running his eyes down your body. Of course. You too are dressed in that pink satin set that drives him absolutely crazy, and all he got to do was look. He mentions that this uniform was old and he doesn't really care for it and you echo his words - your pajamas didn't matter either. Somehow in those few words you've exchanged intentions and permissions and before you know it, hands around his neck, you are kissing him, hot and heavy, months of need pouring in. Wonwoo groans into it, hands moving from your hips to your ass, finally getting his hands on you the way he's been dying to.

With a tap on your thigh, he instructs you to jump and you do, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you up to his room, your mouth working hard on his neck, kissing, sucking, marking him. When he reaches his room, he throws you on the bed and stands back, simply looking down at you, practically fucking you with his eyes. You feel exposed under his gaze but not ashamed as he points to his nightstand with his head and there you see the familiar sight of your hair tie, sitting on it, like it always does. Maybe not everything had changed.

As you reach for it, a warm feeling blooms in your chest which quickly turns searing hot when you notice Wonwoo slowly starting to unbutton his suit jacket. He's purposely torturously slow, letting that feeling between your legs burn with anticipation and so you decide to play a game of your own. Pulling your hair into a high pony, just how he liked it, you quickly strip out of your shorts and spread your legs letting him see. Wonwoo truly had the kindest eyes and the sweetest smile so when they darken hungrily and his mouth presses in a hard line, you feel triumphant, knowing you are successfully pushing him to the edge. But he simply continues to unbutton, and then take off his tie, leaning against the bed post. You proceed to run your fingers between your folds, rubbing circles on your clit before sliding them down and inside you. Now he's mad.

Stop.

Make me.

But he doesn't do anything. Wonwoo wasn't usually very tolerant of your brat behaviour, he loved to put you in your place but today, he wanted to let you have your way. He would deal with you his way after you've played out your fantasy - afterall he wasn't going to let this night get over any time soon. He simply watches as you pump your fingers faster, thumb working your clit, head thrown back, pretty moans leaving you. You're so fucking hot, Wonwoo wishes he could tattoo this sight on the front of his brain. He grabs his camera from the shelf nearby and clicks a picture just as you pull your fingers out and frantically rub your clit, feeling your high crash against your walls as you clench around nothing.

You're surprised he let you go this far - you were hoping he'd put his fingers in you, they always felt so much better. Instead he's just watching his capture of you in the camera you love so much - he always took such flattering pictures of you. Sighing softly, surely thinking of what all he could do to you, he unzips his pants.

Mouth first.

You know he wants you to get on your knees but you smile at him sweetly, further spreading your legs.

Sure, you can taste.

Wonwoo laughs. You've become so audacious suddenly, he's going to have so much fun ruining you later. He's about to take his jacket off when you softly shake your head at him. He complies, getting to his knees, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the bed, and instantly running his tongue between the folds. Fuck. You let out the most euphoric sigh, sinking into the sheets, gripping them. You forgot how good he was with his mouth.

Wonwoo forgot how good you taste, groaning as he savoured you, mouth latching around your folds. He loves the way you keep trying to grind your hips for friction, forcing him to hold you down by the thigh. He loves the sounds you make when he let his hand travel up your body, under that flimsy silk, and grabs your boob, squeezing it. He loves when you rake your fingers through his hair and throw your head back, moaning his name. He thinks he loves you even more when you come around his tongue, and look at him, breathless and flushed as you prop yourself on your elbows. He thinks he loves you the most when you grab his camera from the bed before can and take a picture of him, smiling happily at him, smiling because of him.

The sight of Wonwoo between your legs, sitting on his ankles in that uniform of his, glasses slightly fogged up, chin and lips shining with your arousal... it might just be the sexiest thing you've ever seen. You sit up, leaving the camera behind, taking his face into your hands and kissing him, tasting yourself all over, as he dived his tongue into your mouth. Not leaving you, he strips his jacket off his shoulders, whispering against your mouth.

Knees.

You're about to get off the bed and down in front of him when he grips your thighs, stopping you. He will have your mouth later, right now he really really need to be buried inside you. He watches as you obey, scrambling back and turning over, getting onto your knees, ass up, just the way he likes it. He strips out of his pants, pumping his raging erection in his fist - he could come simply at the sight of you, waiting for him like this. He takes another picture, committing the scene to memory because who knew how things would take a turn after tonight? He had to seize every moment.

He makes sure to ask if he needs to use a condom. The two of you always used it with others, never with each other but given the last few months... you shake your head - you've been safe. Knowing that he has too, he mutters a soft good girl before easing into you slowly, groaning as you try to adjust to his girth, rubbing soft circles on your ass, encouragingly. When your whimpers die down and you beg him to move, he does, gripping your hips and thrusting, slow at first but quickly picking the pace when you ask for it.

You feel yourself nearly drool at how good he feels buried inside you, so deep, hitting all the right spots he had discovered not long after you started hooking up. You too know his sensitive points so though you're barely able to breath, you tease him saying it seems like he's lost his touch. Instantly he plants a leg in the mattress and pushes your face down into the pillows as he holds both your hands behind, against your lower back and goes feral.

Oh you had been waiting for this. The way he pounds into you is wild, with the amount of brute force he knows you can take and he knows you like it because your practically leaking down your thighs. When you feel the pressure building inside, he lets your hands go, allowing you to bring it to your clit and rub yourself, carnal sounds leaving your mouth as he fucked you faster. Within seconds, hearing his ragged breath instructing you to come, you fall apart around him, moaning loudly into the sheets, breathless. Trying not to overstimulate you, he slows down, watching almost hypnotised at the way he buries himself into you.

You hear the click of the camera one more time before he leans down, softly placing a trail of kisses up your back, reaching your ear. You tell him you can take it and encourage him to continue and finish off, but he whispers.

I'm sorry.....I don't think I can stop loving you.

You freeze.

Wonwoo senses it and he understands, pulling out of you, and you turn around to look at him. At the Wonwoo who had seen both your body and your soul at its barest. Wonwoo who was not just the guy you slept with every other night but also the one you sent your favourite memes, paragraphs of rants and deepest worries to. Wonwoo who knew exactly what take out to get for you, which movie you watched with all your attention and which you liked to be distarcted in, when you needed sex and when you needed him. Wonwoo who sometimes knew you better than yourself yet somehow the both of you didn't realise what you felt for him.

He's utterly confused as you take off your top and push his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. When you lie on you back, hold your hand out and whisper, come on baby, don't you want to fill me up, Wonwoo feels like he just died and entered heaven. You pull him down by his neck, kissing him fiercely, as he aligns himself and enters you once again, groaning into your mouth. Running your nails down his back, you beg him to cum inside you, that all you want to feel is him and within a few more strokes he shudders, groaning as he empties himself in you.

You didn't even realise when the two of you fell asleep. You vaguely remember him cleaning you up, untying your hair and softly running his fingers through it. You remember removing his glasses, kissing his cheek and curling up in his warmth. And that's how you wake up, held his arms, his breath soft against your head.

He wakes up to you reaching for his camera, holding it up and clicking a picture of you lying on his chest. You show it to him excited as a new found warmth blooms in his chest, looking at you fit against him so perfectly. When you slide off the bed and wear his shirt, pulling your hair into a bun, he doesn't ask anything but his mind is full of questions. You tell him you need water and he offers to get it for you but you refuse saying you'll be back in a second, you still didn't get the chance to blow him anyway. Wonwoo smiles as you walk away.

A/n - I overwrote but hey, I wanted to write fuck buddies who were not in college and had different professions, they needed lot of back story okay.

#mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu angst #wonwoo angst #seventeen smut #kim mingyu #jeon wonwoo #seventeen mingyu #seventeen wonwoo #mingyu imagines #wonwoo imagines #mingyu scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen #Mingyu #Wonwoo

550 notes · View notes