#Sun getting to mafia guys

[shinene]

Im cooking up a story about Sun having to deal with nightmare twins (based of real things Ive had to deal with from my own nightmare siblings)

The boy is Max and the girl is Mary, they're the children of a mad scientist and a mafioso so they've inherited their madness from their parents. I'm thinking they're the nephew/niece of the y/n who works as a mechanic at the plex (reaping that free daycare benefit perhaps) so they'll have a lot of time to befriend and torment our poor DCA💖

[deva-arts]

☆ Nathaniel Wilson ☆

I Really Like Nathaniel because the guy embodies Hope and Positivity without forcing it down the gullets of everyone around him.

He looks like he'd be a pleasant individual to actually be around at 7 am. Even before his coffee. [ Sera should be too, she doesn't seem like an unbearable person to be around in La Matinée ( the Morning ) . But still, she is alot grumpier than her other half. ]

With that said. Insert Happy music here. Nujabes or Smth.

Submitted by @mettamorphoses!

Love the way you drew Nate here! such a clean style and serious face :> He's my favorite little quadfocal guy... friendly, polite, and a good conversationalist! You're absolutely right, he's one of the easiest people to get along with. It's almost like he knows exactly what to say to people.

Sera isn't grumpy so much as she is disinterested and dismissive. She heads to work without bothering to make small talk besides a basic "Hello." if she passes you by. Not the worst outcome, really, if silence doesn't bother you.

[happy74827]

One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool’s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress. 

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say. 

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him. 

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this. 

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he’s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay. 

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look. 

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what. 

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him. 

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval. 

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori. 

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him. 

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild. 

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

 Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe. 

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit. 

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator. 

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again. 

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin. 

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly. 

Love. Love. Love. 

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call. 

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you. 

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks. 

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable. 

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.  

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately. 

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame. 

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat. 

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again. 

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?” 

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it. 

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable. 

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do. 

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is. 

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans. 

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks. 

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved. 

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.

[demilypyro]

Ok so there's this guy called Jonathan Joestar and he gets an adoptive brother named Dio Brando. Dio hates Jonathan with an intensity that really isn't justified but it likely has something to do with Jonathan being a rich kid and Dio growing up poor. Anyway Dio happens upon an ancient stone mask that turns people into vampires and he becomes a vampire. Dio tries to kill Jonathan after murdering their dad and burning down their mansion. Dio decides he's way too good for all this and that he's gonna use his new vampire powers to take over the world, so Jonathan learns sun magic from a random guy with a top hat so he can defeat Dio and save the world. Jonathan eventually wins but Dio's decapitated head survives and kills Jonathan on a boat.

Before Jonathan died though he did have kids and his grandson is the second protagonist: Joseph Joestar. Joseph fights a group of Super vampires known as the Pillar Men. That all doesn't really affect the overarching plot in any major way though.

What's important is that Joseph's grandson is the third protagonist: Jotaro Kujo. Jotaro's life is flip turned upside down when Dio returns, his decapitated head having taken over Jonathan's body and hibernated under the ocean for a few hundred years. Dio has learned about these magic ghost powers named Stands and in doing so has awakened the dormant potential to use Stands in most of Jonathan's descendants, including Jotaro, but it inadvertently threatens the life of his mom, so Jotaro has 50 days to travel from Japan to Egypt (where Dio is hanging out) so he can give that vampiric asshole a smacking, saving his mom and the world.

The rest of the JoJo parts are largely about other descendants of the Joestar clan fighting villains who were in some way caused by Dio's nonsense, including Josuke who has to solve a murder mystery in a small Japanese town, Giorno who wants to become the head of the Italian mafia, and Jolyne who wants to escape from prison and protect her family from one of Dio's servants. There's also three later parts set in an alternate universe that are mostly disconnected from the original Dio stuff.

JoJo arcs all largely contain a lot of "Stand battles", where all the characters involved have an extremely specific superpower and they have to use strategy and cunning to utilize their powers in creative ways to defeat their opponent.

I hope that answered your question

[thetxtdevil]

Something in the Dark

Vampire!Yeonjun x Reader

summary: Handcuffed to the vampire mafia leader’s bed was not on your bingo card this year :/

content: smut, mafia au, vampire/mafia leader dom.yeonjun, fem.reader, kinda ot5 x reader?, one death, blood, bloodsucking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome?, restraints, fingering, oral (f.rec), edging, (small bit of) nipple play, penetration no condom use, aftercare

word count: 1.2k

Handcuffed to the vampire mafia leader’s bed was not on your bingo card this year :/

It was your fault you got in this mess, what was a sweet innocent girl doing in the wrong parts of town? Looking down a dark hazy alleyway hidden from the bustle of society. It was because your nose couldn't help to seek the cause of a cry. Finding a group of men beating and sucking? The living shit of someone who “wronged them.”

You thought you were going to pass out with the amount of blood shed from one guy. Colors of crimson everywhere on the man and the gang, their mouths, hands, and clothes.

Frozen on the spot not knowing what to do in the middle of a group of vampires. You could not run, they’ll out run you. Can't say anything, they already know what you’re thinking. And overall, they already could smell you, especially the oldest, the leader of the clan, Yeonjun, who already had his eyes on you the moment you took a step into the alleyway’s view.

"What's a pretty girl doing here?" Yeonjun struts towards you. His presence made you gasp as you hit your back on the brick wall. The vampire's scarlet hair was bright and matched his red irises. His nose runs along your neck and you could feel his lips turn to a smirk. "How about this, instead of us killing you, we'll take you hmm?"

They also couldn’t let you run away spilling info about the mafia's last whereabouts and that they were bloodsucking vampires. So the choice was clear get kidnapped or else you'd end up being that guy on the ground.

Forced to be their walking blood bank and maid. Counting cash they "earned," cleaning their weapons, cleaning their mansion and making dinner for the 5 men which meant you had to keep a healthy diet and stay hydrated. You didn't know how much longer you can live like this.

Today seemed like a good to escape. Early in the morning, sun coming up but the vampires haven't returned from their nightly routine. Locked in Yeonjun's room, like you always were when they were gone, you look out of the the window deciding if the bushes outside would be a good cushion to jump in. Little did you know Yeonjun was behind you this whole time in the shadows. Grabbing you by the waist when you got close the edge of the window, and throwing you onto his bed. He hisses at the sting of sun rays hitting him resulting in a fast swoosh of the curtains leaving you in the dark. You scramble on the silk sheets of the bed trying to crawl away but another grip on your body pins you down.

That’s how you ended up being handcuffed to the bed. In the dark, helpless under the gaze of the vampire. Candles automatically light revealing a menacing grin from Yeonjun. You whine with tears streaking down your cheeks. "Aw precious, don't cry even though you were bad," he hovers over you once again trailing his nose along your neck "why would you want to leave? You've been doing well for us."

Squirming under the vampire's soft touches you try to answer him thinking why you were escaping. Instinct? yeah thats a given. Freedom? well then you'd always be hunted down. The more you thought of it the more you realized that although these men are very dangerous, they haven't done anything truly bad to you. They do suck your blood but never drain you to death, they calmly correct you if you did something wrong, they're not so bad right?

"Right, see there you go princess." Your eyes widen, Yeonjun was reading your thoughts this whole time. His plush lips start to peck the soft skin of your collarbones, "and don't forget how much pleasure you feel when we suck your blood, we can sense it." A pathetic moan slips from your lips in response to his soft bites to your shoulder. He was right you did get frenzied when you had their bodies so near and how the lightheadedness made your panties feel uncomfortable. I just want to be loved, you thought. "I'll show you how much I love you then" Yeonjun answers.

His lips connect to yours passionately making your heart flutter. The organ pumping blood was so loud and tempting to the vampire. Yeonjun smiles against your lips kissing your jaw down back to your neck. Tilting your head to the side accustomed to their bloodsucking tendencies. Yeonjun takes his time offering light pecks having you fight your restraints wanting to touch him. The vampire's fangs sharpen while a wondering hand moves down your nightgown and in between your legs.

His long fingers tease lightly brushing your cunt. Rolling your hips to his hand he recoils pushing your hips down hard. A quick bite down puncturing your neck as blood feeds the man stopped your squirming, body laying there for all of you to give. Yeonjun's fingers get back to your wet folds pushing your panties aside instantly pushing a digit in your hole. Your back arches hitting his chest as a long drawn out moan so sweet to the man's ears.

It wasn't long until you're lightheaded, loosing vision from the blood loss and the feeling of Yeonjun's fingers pleasing you. The vampire unlatches from your neck "damn you taste so good." He kisses your lips once more before removing your ruined panties, going down lapping up your slick cunt with his red lips. Your body felt like it was glitching every time Yeonjun's sharp tongue fucked you with his digit, every time his plush lips kissed and sucks your clit. Body shaking, thighs giving out only to have the vampire tease and remove himself from you.

You whine, sore red wrists fighting the cuffs again. "Jun please." Your begging tugs at the man's undead heartstrings. He loved you like this, arms up helplessly, your naked legs squeezing shut, nightgown bunched up so close to showing your breasts. Yeonjun leans down uncovering your tits to lick and play with your nipples. His red hair covering his eyes that were watching your slacked jaw. He lines his lengthy cock to your weeping hole holding your hips down in a bruising grip.

Slamming hard into you, your whole body bounces against the silk sheets. Nothing but moans and his name coming from from your mouth. Yeonjun forcefully stretches your legs around his shoulders. Pressing down to an angle that has you seeing stars. After another fang puncture to your tit you come on his cock. Yeonjun's inhumane thrusts has you crying at the overstimulation just to have him abuse your pussy more. Opening your eyes to see the man shudder his last thrust before cumming inside.

He lets go, removing himself to look at you entirely. You looked spent, blood streaking down your neck and breasts, bruises scattered in many places of your body. He walks away leaving your still locked up, tears about to spill as you watch the curtains move with the wind of the open window. Tired, your eyes about to drift to slumber until you felt a cold cloth on your sensitive parts.

The scary vampire mafia leader cleans you up. Licking off your blood before it dries, fixing your nightgown, and then releases you from the handcuffs. Your hand fly to his face caressing the pale skin. Although naturally dangerous, the smile he gives you was full of love. Maybe its not bad to live here after all...

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 6]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

Hongjoong's fingertipes tapped against the wooden surface of his desk. He was dressed in a plain white t shirt and dress pants, his white dress shirt discarded on the ground by his office door and his jacket on the couch.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." Hongjoong sighed, looking up from the computer screen. Wooyoung came in, stepping around the bloodied dress shirt that was strewn on the ground.

"The tailor is coming in an hour to do the first round of adjustments for our suits." Wooyoung informed.

"Alright, thanks. I should go get cleaned up then." Hongjoong stood up.

"Did you get anything good from the guy?" Wooyoung asked as Hongjoong gathered his things. He had just tortured a guy for information. Hence, the bloodied dress shirt.

"Nothing we didn't already know. I swear it's like we're missing something. No one can give me what I want." Hongjoong growled.

"Everyone's tight lipped, hyung. Plus, it could be anyone aiming to take us down." Wooyoung shrugged.

"And don't worry, we've got more surveillance up. Someone is bound to slip up and when they do, we'll be there to deal with them." The younger added. Hongjoong nodded his head, threats to Ateez were never taken lightly. His attack happened a week ago but the jab to his reputation felt like a fresh wound.

"You know what you need, hyung? A night at the fight club." San, having overheard the conversation, poked his head through the open door of Hongjoong's office.

"I'm too busy to have a fight now." Hongjoong chuckled as he picked up his jacket and bloodied dress shirt.

"Let off some steam. Fine, if you don't want to fight, go race." San grinned.

"San's right. It's been a while since you've raced, hyung." Wooyoung giggled. Hongjoong shrugged in response but was actually considering it. He used to race all the time with Seonghwa.

"Okay, you two. Let me shower before the tailor comes." Hongjoong playfully shoved them aside before going to his bedroom.

"Hmm..." Closing one eye, Mingi raised the gun in his hand and steadily pressed the trigger.

"Woah." Yeosang used his hand to shield the sun over his eyes as he squinted at the target to see where Mingi's bullet had landed. Mingi did the same, finding the bullet hole on the target.

"I hate these new stabilisers. I'm switching back to my old brands." Mingi cursed, dismantling the gun at the table and switching out the new stabiliser with the old ones. Taking his arm, he did the same as before and shot the target.

"This new stabiliser is supposed to help heavier guns with the recoil. If it doesn't work then we'll switch back." Seonghwa noted.

"You try, hyung." Mingi stepped aside for Seonghwa to try it.

"It adds too much weight to the gun, it's uneven." Seonghwa said, holding his gun in his hand after switching to the new stabiliser. Mingi nodded in agreement.

"Add that for those who use silencers. It's gonna throw the entire aim of the gun off." Mingi replied.

"That's why I prefer to use these. No need for any added equipment or upgrades." Yeosang held his fists up with a grin.

"Yeah, no thanks." Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle, taking a sip of his rum. He placed the crystal glass down and took aim, shooting the target in a distance.

"I see what you mean..." The older turned to Mingi, who hummed and drank his beer.

"Mr Park, Mr Kang and Mr Song, I've been told to inform you that the tailor is coming soon to make adjustments for your suits for the upcoming gala." The butler came out into the backyard where they were practicing. The three nodded and waved the butler off, he bowed and left them alone.

"I completely forgot about the gala to be honest, even if we have been involved in the planning of it all." Yeosang admitted honestly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, we've all been busier than usual. And with Hongjoong's mother's passing, it's been different." Seonghwa said.

"Hmm, whether he admits it or not, Hongjoong hyung is still recovering." Mingi added.

"He is. He's just too stubborn to admit it. But he still knows his priorities so let's put our focus on the gala." Seonghwa told the two, who nodded obediently.

"Where's Yunho and Jongho?" When the 3 entered, Hongjoong descended down the stairs, seeing the two missing.

"Probably gaming." Wooyoung snickered.

"We were not gaming. We were busy making sure the new surveillance system is up and running. You were the one gaming with San." Jongho said, walking through the front door with Yunho.

"Damn, how did you know?" San winced.

"Did you think we would not have full surveillance of our own computer lab?" Yunho scoffed, sitting on the couch. As the boys sat together in the living room with drinks and snacks, they chatted and waited for the tailor to come.

"What's the theme we're going with for the gala?" Jongho asked. Everyone turned to Hongjoong since he was always the one in charge of deciding the theme.

"It's a surprise." Hongjoong smirked from his armchair, sipping the whiskey he had.

"Good afternoon, sirs." The tailor came in with his assistant, each of them wheeling in a rack of clothing.

"You can set up here." Seonghwa said.

"Thank you." The tailor bowed and the two left the racks, going back out to get their remaining supplies from their vehicle. Yeosang tried to peek under the black cloth that covered the racks.

"I'll be placing the mirror here." The tailor set the full length mirror by the glass doors so the natural sunlight would come in.

"As always, Mr Kim chose a very nice design for all of you." The tailor complimented.

"Show us already!" Mingi said impatiently. This was their regular tailor for such events so he was used to the boys, their behaviours, mannerisms and what they did for work. The tailor chuckled and pulled the cloth off the racks to reveal the 8 outfits that were hanging off the hangers.

"Oooh." The 7 boys were in awe. Hongjoong stood up, going for a closer look. He nodded in satisfaction. Each boy had a uniquely designed outfit but there was always a similar theme.

"Nice choice. I don't think we've done dark purple before." Seonghwa ran his fingers against the material.

"Dark purple velvet." Hongjoong corrected.

"A purple this dark can go with either gold or white gold. Very nice." Wooyoung whistled. Hongjoong nodded, that was the intention of the design.

"Yes! I got a cape!" San fist pumped at his dark purple velvet piece. Yeosang's was a double breasted jacket with a peaked lapel.

"Ooh, mine is a coat." Yunho held up the hanger with his name tagged, looking at the piece.

"This is yours." Hongjoong handed the hanger to his best friend. It was a three piece velvet suit; a waistcoat, a jacket and the same pants as everyone. Jongho's jacket had a shawl neckline so the collar of his white shirt could have overhang to create a contrast of colour.

"This is Mr Song's." The tailor gave Mingi his purple velvet coat. But unlike Yunho's, Mingi's was different in that there were no buttons, it had a shawl neckline.

"And you requested to wear your new bolo tie so I got you a fitting shirt instead of your usual flowy one." Hongjoong sighed.

"Oh yes, I forgot about that." Wooyoung chuckled. His suit was jacket was more form fitting with a notched lapel.

"Okay, we'll have you all change to make adjustments. For those that do not have a white shirt on your hanger, means you are meant to be without one." The tailor said.

Hongjoong's was a regular jacket with a peaked lapel, pants and a white shirt but his tie was made of the same purple velvet material.

"Oh yeah, this is your bow tie, Yeosang ah." Hongjoong handed the bow tie to the male when he stepped out.

"Are you sure I should wear this without a shirt on the inside?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he walked down the stairs. Hongjoong nodded in confirmation, Seonghwa always looked good in the suits that he designed. He had an eye for design, knowing what points to highlight on each person.

"Mr Park." The tailor gestured to the mirro. Seonghwa stepped up and the tailor stood behind him with his assistant. Hongjoong stood by to observe.

"It's a bit loose around the waist. We'll gather it in more." The tailor said and his assistant took down the notes.

"Mingi ah, what accessories are you getting for us?" Hongjoong asked the taller male.

"I think, after looking at everyone, white gold would be nicer. There's more elegance to it. I'm afraid yellow gold stands out too much and not in a good way." Mingi replied.

"Sure. I'll leave it to you." The older said. Mingi saluted in reply.

"I chose for you two to have longer coats since you're both tall. It compliments your height well." Hongjoong informed.

"Thanks, hyung. You always know what looks good on us." Yunho grinned. One by one, the boys stepped up to the mirror for the tailor and Hongjoong to make adjustments. Hongjoong went last while the others changed out of their outfits.

"Bring in the shoulders a little. It's not sitting right." The captain told the tailor, who nodded. Once he was done, the tailor gathered all the suit pieces from each of them.

"Good job. Can't wait to see the final pieces." Hongjoong said.

"You won't be disappointed, Mr Kim. Have a nice day." With a bow, the tailor left with his assistant in tow.

"Oh! I have to go for a meeting! Send me a list of all the accessories that I'll need to get for the gala." Mingi said to everyone before running out of the house.

"I need a nap." Jongho stood up and excused himself too. Hongjoong went to get a refill of his drink.

"How are the logistics coming, Yunho?" He asked.

"It's going better than before. I've put together everything, according to suggestions that were made during our last meeting. The venue will be 90% done the night. The other 10% is stuff that is best prepared day of." Yunho replied. Seonghwa nodded with a small hum to show his approval.

"Wooyoung and I have been working on invites. The important ones, at least." Seonghwa informed.

"Good." Hongjoong nodded.

"Also, Seonghwa hyung, Mingi and I were testing the new stabilisers earlier. They're not good. Especially for those that are going to use heavier guns." Yeosang updated.

"Then stick to whatever is better and more comfortable for all of you." Hongjoong said.

"I think we should drop this guy as a supplier, he hasn't been bringing in good stuff for us." Yeosang suggested.

"Get our money back first. Then you can do whatever you want." Seonghwa replied and Yeosang nodded.

"Alright, I'm going to get ready for my fight tonight. Sure you don't want to join, hyung?" San grinned. Hearing that, Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at his best friend while Hongjoong cursed.

"Don't give me that look, Seonghwa. And I already told you I'm not fighting, San. I have no temptation to enter the ring. If I'm there, it's only to watch your fight." Hongjoong scoffed, hoping Seonghwa wouldn't nag him about his recovery.

"If there's a slot, I'll fight." Yeosang raised his hand.

"Great. There's always slots." San took his phone out and sent a text to the fight manager at his club.

"We should all go watch tonight." Wooyoung said. Hongjoong had too much work to do to watch the fight. Yeosang and San always won their fights anyway.

"Why don't you guys come celebrate at my club tonight? After the fight." Hongjoong suggested.

"Yay! Free drinks at Hongjoong hyung's." The boys cheered.

"You guys can pay for your own drinks! You'll have winning money to use, no need for free drinks." Hongjoong hissed, making all of them laugh and ignore him.

"In the mean time, back to work." Seonghwa got up and headed to his office. San and Yeosang went to get ready for their fight.

"Game time." Yunho and Wooyoung fist pumped, slinging their arms around each other and going to the computer room to game. Hongjoong chuckled with a shake of his head, the boys were always so chaotic wherever they were. They could talk about serious work one second then change to nonsensical talk.

After you closed your shop, you went home to shower and change. You were not sure what to wear since you weren't exactly active in the clubbing scene.

"It's just drinks." You reminded yourself, digging through your closet to find something appropriate to wear.

"Ah ha!" You took out a dark red body con dress with a small slit on the thigh.

"(y/n)!" Your friends waved to you as you arrived outside the club. Besides Jihoon, there was Nana, who owned a petcare center, Eve, who owned a bakery, and Hyunwoo, who owned a gym.

"Your dress is so cute." Eve complimented.

"I had to dig it out of the depths of my cupboard. I don't go to these places often." You chuckled.

"Because you always bail on us." Hyunwoo pointed out, making you glare at him while the others burst out laughing. You assumed Jihoon made a reservation of some sort because you didn't need to queue.

"Thank god we didn't need to queue. Or else I would have gone home." Nana groaned as she walked beside you. The club was crowded, it seemed like a popular place to be. And judging by the long queue outside, you figured it was always packed.

"This is our table." Jihoon gestured and you all sat down. You didn't realise that Hyunwoo had disappeared.

"First round!" Hyunwoo announced, placing the tray of shots on the table.

"We just sat down and you wanna do shots already?! You're crazy." Nana yelled over the loud music. Jihoon shook his head while Hyunwoo grinned.

"Come on~ You guys can order different stuff after this. It's a welcome drink." He gave out the shot glasses.

"Ah... You're spilling." You clicked your tongue, taking a napkin to wipe the table.

"Cheers!" All 5 of you clinked shot glasses and downed the shot, wincing at how strong the alcohol was. You were not adverse to alcohol but even this was too strong for you to handle.

"Rum and coke?" Eve turned to me after taking Nana's order. You nodded, coughing from the burn in your throat.

"I'll go help her carry everything. And I'm getting a beer." Jihoon went to the bar to find Eve. They came back with the drinks and you received your rum and coke. It was a lot better in taste than whatever Hyunwoo had offered all of you earlier. All of you owned shops along the same row so there was always things to talk about.

"I've recently added a lot of new classes at the gym, you guys should come check it out. Free trial classes." Hyunwoo said, leaning against the back of the couch.

"I think working at the bakery is enough of a workout for me. Plus I have been busy training the two new bakers." Eve groaned.

"This is why I work with animals." Nana grinned.

"But you still have to deal with owners..." Jihoon pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Walk ins are still slow but thankfully, I've been getting more online orders. Maybe I should consider getting an assistant soon to help me with arrangements for events." You thought out loud.

"Yeah, you should! You're always staying so late to finish up your orders." Hyunwoo revealed. All your friends turned to you.

"Quiet, you..." You scolded Hyunwoo for exposing you. Jihoon reached over to flick your forehead.

At some point in the night, your friends momentarily scattered around the club. The dance floor looked too daunting and sweaty for you to join so you stayed away. Looking at the bar, you saw people chatting like they're long time friends.

'Going to the bathroom! Be right back. - (y/n)'

You sent a text to your friends and left the table, making sure to put the 'reserved' sign right at the front so no one would take your table, then headed to the restroom.

"Is this the line for the bathroom?" You tapped a girl's shoulder. She turned around and nodded her head with a hum.

"Thanks." You shot her a grateful smile. The queue was moving but it was long so you were stuck there for a while with your full bladder.

"Oh! (y/n) sshi?" Someone called, making you look up from your phone, not expecting a taller person before you. You squinted your eyes a little, trying to remember his name.

"Y-Yunho sshi?" You tried. He nodded his head with a smile.

"Mhmm! Fancy seeing you here." He chuckled. You could feel the attention fo the other girls on you.

"The queue is so long... Come with me." He nodded his head in another direction. You tilted your head in confusion but you wanted to escape all the attention that was on you now. The girls were definitely eavesdropping, seeing someone as handsome as Yunho, talk to someone like you.

"Yunho sshi, where are we going?" You asked, following him. You watched as two men stepped aside, revealing a staircase up to a private area.

"Here. Use the private bathroom down the hall. It's cleaner too." He pointed to the door.

"That's very kind of you but are you sure we can do this? It seems private or like a VIP area..." You looked around with uncertainty.

"You're funny, (y/n) sshi. Don't worry about it, we're not trespassing. Just go then you can return to your friends." Yunho smiled, gently pushing you in the direction of the bathroom.

"Bye~" He waved and headed to another door along the hallway.

"Thank you." You bowed to him and went to the bathroom. He was right, it was a private bathroom and it was very clean.

When you were done with your business, you washed your hands and exited the bathroom. You headed down the stairs, past the two guards that were blocking the way and went back to the booth to find your friends.

"You said you were in the bathroom! We went and you were not there!" Nana held your arm worriedly.

"Ah... Sorry, I bumped into someone I knew and got sidetracked." You rubbed the back of your neck. Hyunwoo and Eve were still mingling while Jihoon returned from the bar with another beer.

"Want some?" He offered.

"No, thank you. Beer makes me sleepy and I can't be falling asleep here." You chuckled.

"You know we wouldn't let anything happen to you, right? If you fall asleep, Hyunwoo and I will just take you back to your house." Jihoon said with a serious tone.

"I know. Thank you." You giggled. You stood up and exited the booth, wanting to go get another drink.

"Want me to come with you?" Jihoon offered.

"No need. It's just there. I'll be right back." You shook your head and went to the bar to order another drink. Of course, you got another rum and coke with lime. With more space at the bar now, you lingered there for a bit longer until you realised your friends might be looking for you.

"Hey." A hand touched your shoulder and you assumed it was Jihoon coming to find you.

"I just wanted to have a drink at the bar. I was going to return to the table." You laughed as you turned around.

~

Series masterlist

[moongreenlight]

Mafia!Price is NOT your fucking aesthetic. A full comprehensive list as to why.

He cooka da pizza!

He goes to church every Sunday. A massive Roman Catholic Church downtown. Ancient building with floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows depicting the life and loss of Christ. Full two hour masses that he always wears a suit to. At first it starts as some last-ditch attempt to absolve him of his guilt, but then it became habit. 

And maybe it was his wife. Her parents were devout and just about keeled over when they found out their only daughter was married by a quick ceremony in the courthouse to a man they’d never met. Her mother was the worst, though it was to be expected. Likely didn’t know John had won his new bride when her husband didn’t have the funds left to pay off his debt. Fucking miracle she hadn’t yet done the math and realized his first child was born seven months later. He’d be persecuted to no end.

There was a target on his back since the wedding. Always put him in the hot seat on Sunday evening dinners while his wife was trying to wrangle their children into eating their vegetables. Drilled into him about work and life and why he always seemed too busy to prioritize “something worthwhile” in his life. Mother sets in on him like she’d been waiting for the opening all evening.

“So, John. Remind us what you do for work.” Accusatory. Glaring over her barely touched plate of roast at him.

“Contracting. Bit of this and that.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes, if only barely. 

“Hm. And what does that entail? Can’t keep you as busy as you swear you are.” She’s unabashed. Her husband doesn’t share the sentiment. He sighs into his glass of brandy and tries to catch her eye. 

“Don’t do much hands-on these days. Project management and bookkeeping for me now. Brought on a few guys to do the grunt. You remember from when we did your bathroom, I’m sure.” He doesn’t shy away from the challenge. Principled. 

“Boys would do well to have some structure. Bet they haven’t been in a church since they were baptized.” She ignores his parry and switches to what she really wants to talk about after looking over to her daughter who is all but force-feeding them florets of broccoli. Typical.

He finally wore down after a Christmas where the only gift he got from them was a deep brown leather-wrapped bible. Used. Split down the spine, dog-eared pages.  Like they’d stolen it from the shelf in the pew for the dolts who weren’t well-mannered enough to bring their own. 

From then, it had become a welcome escape from reality. Church in the morning. 8am service, because he was up before the sun anyway. Sipping coffee in the kitchen beforehand, pouring over a heavy binder with the title ‘family finance’ scrawled in his wife’s delicate handwriting across the front.

He could hear her wrestling with their two boys in the bathroom upstairs. Their indignant screeching clueing him in that he should probably get up and help, but he always tried to steal a few more moments to himself. Calm before the storm.

The boys have sour looks on their faces when they stomp down the stairs not five minutes later, though they’re nothing in comparison to their mother who’s only a few steps behind. They get the deep furrow in their brows from him, the bitter curl of their lips from her. 

“Glad you’re enjoying your slow start, John. Really.”

He should feel worse for not helping. Tries to lay her hackles back down by snapping the binder shut and pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. She barely pauses to accept it before pushing past to pack her purse. Four bibles, his ratty one, her perfectly white one with different colored sticky notes poking out the sides, and two smaller children's bibles that she’d shove in their laps for appearance sake. Snacks for the boys, and a flash of the handle of her small handgun- safetied and then shoved into the bottom of her tote.

“Should’ve shouted f’you needed help. Can’t hear a thing down here.” The boys snicker when he winks over at them. They’re outfitted in their Sunday best. Slacks with damp finger marks on the thighs from where she’d tried to smooth out wrinkles. Buttoned-down shirts that they were already tugging at the collars of. Hair gelled back, no doubt the reason for their griping earlier. 

She doesn’t find it nearly as funny as they do. Shoots him a nasty look over her shoulder before disappearing into the spare room to grab a pair of low heels. 

“We’re already late. If we have to sit in the back again, you’ll never hear the end of it.” It’s not an empty threat. They’d missed one service and some aunt had told her mother in passing. Took three months to get her to stop bringing it up.

“S’not even half seven. Takes fifteen minutes to get there.”

It’s supposed to mollify her, but it has the adverse effect. She looks ready to throw a shoe at him when she sits on the bottom stair to tug them on. He raises his hands in surrender.

“Easy.” 

Somehow all four of them make it to the car in one piece. He sends a message to Kyle before they leave telling him to save them a space toward the front to err on the side of caution.

[dreamescapeswriting]

So Then Kiss Me ~ BC [MATURE WARNING]

WORD COUNT:5K

GENRE: Continuation of this piece HERE (you dont have to read to read this though)SMUT MINORS DNI, Insta love kinda feel, mafia AU, Chan being a total gentleman with reader, office sex, @meloncremesoda

Cunnilingus, protected sex, excitement of possibly getting caught

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader 

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The sun was starting to set and the streets were already dimly lit and cloaked in an ominous stillness that made you feel completely uneasy. The air was thick with tension and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong at any second.

"You just need to relax, once we get to my place you'll be able to do that." Katarina - your best friend of almost seven years now - explained as you nodded a little taking in a deep breath. Somewhere inside of you, you knew she was right and that you were just feeling uneasy because of the shitty day you'd had.

Shitty probably wasn't the best way to describe it since it seemed as though there was a malevolent force that was wreaking havoc on your entire life today. In the span of a single day, you'd been fired - even though you'd been up for a huge promotion but they'd given it to the new hire. Something you'd expressed your disdain for and was quickly slapped with an unemployment notice. Not only that but you'd been making your way home when you'd fallen into the canal after a biker pushed you and rode off. You hadn't even managed to get a proper look at the guy, you'd just heard him laughing manically to himself from the bottom of the bridge.

By the time you'd made it home to your apartment, there was a giant red notice on the door, an eviction letter despite every single bill of yours being paid on time. The universe was out for you and it was playing a dangerous game with you.

"I'll even let you use the hot tub," Kat smirked at you but you giggled, about to say something when you heard the purr of an engine echoing off brick walls making people murmur to one another about the reckless driving.

"You've convinced me," You laughed, stepping onto the road to cross over to the convenience store since the two of you were planning to grab snacks and drinks for your sleepover tonight.

The black SUV tore around the corner, its tires skimming on the wet asphalt as it sped through the city streets. Behind the wheel, Shadow, drove recklessly trying to get his boss to a meeting on time. But as your luck, and the universe's way of fucking you up more, had it, you'd been crossing the road at the same time he ran a red light. Chan watched in awe as you appeared out of nowhere like a ghost in the night, you looked so fragile and delicate and completely unaware of the impending danger you were in.

"Stop the car!" A voice boomed from the back of the vehicle.

The sound of tires screeching made you look up, your eyes widening in a mixture of shock and fear frozen in place as you began to shake. The SUV came to an abrupt halt mere inches away from you as people turned and gasped watching the scene in front of them.

"Are you okay?!" Kat asked as she rushed you over to the other side of the road letting you lean against the wall as you held your hand over your chest. Your heart was racing so much you were afraid it was about to come right out of your chest.

"The universe hates me," Was all you'd managed to get out as you stared down at the floor, your whole body was shaking as you thought back to the whole thing. The light was illuminated for you to cross the street, none of this was your fault but if the car hadn't broken so suddenly you'd be dead right now.

"Listen! Creep! If you're going to yell at her for being on the road maybe you should take an eye exam!" Kat started to yell out and you breathed out heavily turning to see her staring at a man twice her size who was staring down at her. He was almost 6''5 in height, bald and had a giant scar running down the left side of his face. His attention moved from Kat to you, staring you down and making your mouth run dry.

"Don't stare her down! It might work on other people but we're not going to back down!" Kat screamed in his face, hitting his chest with her purse.

"We'll sue you! You were driving over the speed limit and you ran a red light! Matter of fact-" She reached into her purse pulling out her phone.

"I'm calling the police!" She yelled but you put your hand on her arm trying to calm her down.

"Leave it. He didn't hit me, let's just go home." You begged, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep it off like nothing had happened, the sooner the day was over the better and standing in the street arguing with a man who looked like he could snap you in half was not helping.

"I won't leave it! He could have killed you!" She screamed, her yells beginning to draw attention from those around you. You heard another door open and shut and you glanced in the direction of the car.

"And what do you want?!" Kat rang out making a few of the women around you both gasp.

"Do they know who that is?" One woman muttered making you glance behind you to stare at them. Both of them looked terrified as they stared at the second man who had joined you on the streets,

"Obviously not otherwise they wouldn't be yelling," Her friend whimpered before they scurried away into a nearby store.

"Are you okay?" You glanced back around not expecting to see the man inches away. His accent was thick and you suddenly felt as though you couldn't breathe with how handsome he was staring at you, you nodded a little.

"Are you sure? It must have scared you quite a bit." The man stared down into your eyes searching for any signs that you might have been lying to him but you barely even blinked.

"I've told him to drive the speed limit around here but he never listens," It was a lie. When Chan needed to get somewhere he would, he didn't care who was on the roads but after seeing you so scared there was something inside of him that snapped. A deep achiness that urged him to reach out and check on you, to protect you even.

"Y-Yes, fine. Just shook up," You admitted when you realised he was still waiting for you to answer him. Clearing her throat Kat stared at you, narrowing her eyes at the man and then at you before she smirked a little. It was obvious that you were attracted to the man, though it was lost on Kat as to why since his driver had almost hit you.

"She would be better if you took her for some tea, you know, to make up for your driving almost killing her." Your eyes shot in her direction but she refused to look at you, instead, she chose to stare at the man who was apologising to you,

"Kat!" You hissed out, was she out of her mind? One second she was ready to fist fight the person who had almost hit you and now she was attempting to set you up.

"She's right, I should take you for some tea to steady your nerves. It's the least I can do," Chan said as he watched you, his eyes hadn't left your face since the moment he got out of the car and you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat.

"Text me when you're done," Kat winks at you, walking away so that you can't decline the offer of tea and you whimper a little.

"I'm Chan, it's lovely to meet you...?" He stated his name so that it wouldn't feel too weird going to get something to drink with a stranger.

"Yn." You told him as he took your hand in his and gently lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently as you felt your body warm at the whole interaction.

"I know the perfect place. We can walk if you'd like," Chan told you as he slipped your arm through his, your hand clutching onto his forearm as you nodded a little. 

"Thank you." You whispered, noticing people staring in your direction as the two of you made your way down the street.

Heads turned at every point making you feel a little uneasy about this whole thing, maybe they all thought it was insane for you to try and go out with the man who had almost killed you. 

The quaint cafe was nestled in the corner of the city, usually, it would exude warmth and comfort for you but tonight it wasn't. Tonight, the sight of the place made you want to shrivel up and die on the floor.

"The universe hates me." You mumbled as you stopped outside the cafe that Chan had offered to take you to. It was run by your bosses - well, ex-bosses - wife who was glaring at you through the window. Not that she had any reason to glare when her husband was the reason you'd been fired in the first place,

"Sorry?" Chan questioned thinking he'd misheard you.

"I just remembered I need to head home, I'm going to be late for Kat's dinner." You were lying through your teeth but anything was better than going into the cafe tonight and having to deal with your ex-bosses wife,

"She told you to enjoy yourself. Is this Cafe not up to your standards? I can drive us somewhere else." He was open to taking you anywhere you wanted to go, even if it meant getting the jet out and flying you somewhere you'd prefer. If you said the word it would be done in seconds,

"It's lovely it's just...My ex-boss's wife owns it." You admitted, looking down at your hands and then at Chan who was frowning a little.

"Oh. How long ago did you leave?" He questioned, pulling you to the side of the door and watching you closely. He could sense that there was something more going on but you were reluctant to share it with him,

"Leave?" You scoffed a little and shook your head, leaving wasn't the right word since you'd practically been dragged out of that building for speaking facts.

"More like fired and today. I was up for a promotion and he gave it to the new girl he's got a thing for." You grumbled, folding your arms across your chest as Chan watched you closely, humming a little to himself.

"Hmm, I see."

"Yeah, I expressed my disdain for it and I was fired on the spot." You mumbled a little, rubbing the back of your neck as you probably sounded like a woman scorned but instead of judging you, Chan took your side.

"Hardly seems fair since you were already up for it."

"Life hates me today." You admitted with a low laugh, shaking your head as Chan opened the cafe door for you. There was no way he was going to let one silly woman ruin the evening he wanted to share with you.

"Trust me, no one will bother you while I'm here," He promised and even though you hadn't known him long you believed him.

As you entered the cafe, the air seemed to shift subtly and everyone turned to stare in your direction and Chan who simply nodded at the owner who hid away in the back room.

"She's not welcome." The woman stated but Chan led you toward a corner table near the large window and he smiled at you warmly.

"She's welcome anywhere," Chan stated as he turned around to face the woman whose face flashed a sign of something unreadable and she nodded, bowing a little to him.

It took almost three seconds for a server to rush over to the table, and take your orders without looking up at either of you. Chan's demeanour remained composed as he stared at you, 

"I'll take a hot chocolate," He spoke to the server but not once did his eyes leave yours as you smiled a little.

"Samr for me please," You said to the server who still hadn't looked at either of you before scurrying off behind the counter. 

Taking in a deep breath you look around the cafe taking in the silence, there was nothing but the soft clink of teaspoons or people whispering to one another,

"Are you famous, or something?" You whispered finally having enough of people staring in your direction and whispering to one another.

Chan was a little shocked, there weren't many people in Seoul who didn't know who he was and he loved that you didn't know, there was something interesting about it. Chan smiled at you and tried to think of something he could say. It wasn't like he could come right out and tell you that he was the towering figure of organised crime in Seoul and he couldn't lie and say he was famous since he wasn't an Idol or actor.

"Something like that," He chuckled as two mugs of hot chocolate were placed down on the table in front of you both and he looked at you. His heart fluttered a little as he watched you slowly take the cup into your hands and blow into the liquid that was obviously too hot but it was cute.

"So why else does the universe hate you? It can't just be because you got fired." Chan stated as he leant forward, he'd cancelled a meeting for this and he didn't want this to be a bust with you.

"Where do I even start?" You whined a little and leaned back on the chair, both of you falling into a conversation about how awful your day had been not noticing that time was getting away from you both.

By the time you'd both realised what the time was it was dark out and you had missed calls from Kat, along with almost 24 texts asking for details about how it had all gone,

"I'll drive you to Kat's, I'm not letting you walk home. You never know who could be wandering the streets," Chan explained as he carefully took your arm in his and led you to the already waiting car. Chan knew what could be wandering the streets and that the most dangerous thing there right now was him but he helped you into the car and instructed Shadow to start driving.

"Thank you for tonight, I had fun." You admitted with a small laugh,

"Maybe the universe gave you such a shitty day so I could make it better," He winked at you sending tingles up and down your spine. All night your stomach had been in an eruption of butterflies and your heart couldn't stop fluttering,

"Maybe." You whispered unable to shake the tingle-feeling you felt all over your body.

"I'd love to do it again, on a day that hasn't been so bad for you," Chan admitted, one night with you wasn't enough and he selfishly wanted more from you than he was probably allowed.

"I'd love that too," You admitted, staring into his eyes as he smiled at you. Before you, he had been a man of very few words but tonight he'd spoken more than he thought he had in his life. His rough exterior was melting away easily thanks to you,

"I'll call you," He said as the car slowly came to a stop, your heart sinking as you realised it was time to come back to reality and remember all of these shitty things going on in your life.

"Sure," You whispered, sliding out of the car and heading toward the steps of Kat's apartment but you were stopped when a hand carefully took yours.

Without thinking your lips met in a collision of passion and softness, your lips wrapped around the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you.

The kiss lingered until someone cleared their throat making you break apart and stare at Kat who was smirking down at you, her arms folded on her chest.

"I'll call you soon," Chan whispered before placing a small kiss on the top of your head heading back to the car and speeding off into the night. You were too high from the kiss to remember that you'd never given him your number or even your full name as you headed into the house to tell Kat all about your date. 

In the span of almost four days, things had turned from the absolute worst to the best that they could have been. The day after your date with Chan you'd been offered your job back with a promotion and even your own office with a giganic pay rise which went along nicely with your new apartment that you'd found. You'd hardly been able to believe the place when you saw it and for the price it was at? It was a steal and you weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth with it. 

Your apartment building had its own doorman that greeted you every time you entered or left the building the place was stunning and your apartment was even better. 

There was a crystal chandelier that hung in the entrance, the whole place was a picture of elegance and sophistication it was incredible to see.

"Miss, Yln, Someone is here to see you." Your new assistant said snapping you from your daydream, you nodded at her and sent her a small smile before straightening yourself out.

"Send them in." She nodded and headed back to the office, you turned to look at your computer for a second to check over some last-minute emails when a news article popped up in the corner.

Body found floating in the Canal: Police believe the man found may be the Seoul Pusher they have been looking for. 

"Is that-" You were about to ask if it was the same man that had pushed you when the door opened and shut.

"I see things are going rather well for you," The voice sent shivers down your spine as you shot up from your chair. Standing there with all of the confidence in the world was Chan, he smirked at you as you took him all in. He was dressed in a tailored suit that showed off his broad shoulders and incredible physique and he looked hot. 

"Nice to see you again, I thought you'd never find me." You teased as he made his way over to your desk, taking a seat on the chair in front of it and smirking at you.

"I wanted to give it a few days, one of my men said a week but I wanted to see you." Chan wasn't afraid of admitting what he wanted and it was you, you had been all he'd thought about for the last four days and how badly he needed to see you again.

"I wanted to see you too," You whispered sitting on the edge of your desk directly in front of him, there was something about him that made you feel more confident whenever he was around you and you never wanted that to go away.

Chan's eyes slowly travelled up your body starting from your legs until he reached your face which was burning hot with how intently he'd been watching you.

"What can I do you for? Mr Bang." You'd found out his name after you'd tried to find his number and it had proven to be damn near impossible since he was one of the most powerful men in the city. Something that should have sent you to the hills screaming but instead it only excited you.

"Well, Miss Yln, I came to see, to kiss you, to take you out and woo you all over again." He stood up, your legs now spread to either side of his lips as he stood mere inches away from your face. Your breath caught on his lips as your heart raced intensely against your chest.

The office was now thick with tension as Chan stared down at you, the door was closed but the risk of the two of you being walked in on hung in the air. Your eyes met, exchanging a heated gaze that spoke volumes of the unspoken desires you'd been suppressing for days now. 

"So then kiss me," You barely had time to finish before Chan's hand gently cupped your face, the touch was tender and yet possessive at the same time. Your lips met together in a passionate kiss, the pent-up frustration you'd been holding onto for four days finally unravelled as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, the chance someone could walk in and find you like this only heated things up more.

"I want you," You whispered to him against his lips as you pulled away for air, your hands tangling into his tie and pulling him closer.

"I'll pick you up later," Chan chuckled about to walk away but you shook your head and pulled him back to you by his tie.

"I want you now," You whispered as his cheeks began to flame, Chan was no stranger to a woman's body and he wanted you too, badly.

"But someone could walk in." He teased you, his fingers slowly running between your thighs as he felt your entire body shiver at the small touch.

"Or does that turn you on?" His voice grew deeper and more seductive as his fingers traced further up your leg until they were right next to your throbbing cunt.

"Knowing that someone might walk in and see you getting the best fuck of your life?" He bit down on your neck softly as you let out a small moan,

"P-Please. Four days I've been left needy," Chan's face burnt red as he thought back on it and a smirk began to take over his face.

"Oh? You didn't do anything to help yourself?" 

"Maybe...But nothing was good enough," You admitted before Chan chuckled darkly, his fingers slowly pressing against your clothed pussy and rubbing small circles as you mewled out his name a little too loudly making him freeze.

"If we're going to play this game here, you have to be quiet, little mouse." The nickname made you shiver as he slowly began to sink to his knees in front of you.

"I don't get on my knees for just anyone, Yn," He warns you before hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear and pulling them down. Before you can see what he's doing or ask him his mouth is on you, hot and wet as he wraps your legs around his shoulder trying to get himself closer to you.

"Oh...F-Fuck," You hiss out, your hands struggling to find something to grab onto as you knock some of the things off your desk onto the floor.

"C-Chan," Your voice came out in a whisper as he used his tongue slowly against you building you up as he ate you out like a man starved. How did he know exactly the right spots to hit for you? Your hands slowly moved to his hair as you pushed him deeper into you, grinding against his face a little as you moaned out. His rhythm didn't speed up or change as you moved your hips to meet him, he didn't stop even as his hand moved to thrust a finger into you. It wasn't long until your toes were curling and you were seeing stars as you came around his fingers and on his face.

"S-Shit," You hissed out as he continues to eat you out while you ride out your orgasm. 

Chan smirked as he stood in front of you, his cock prominent in the tight pants he was wearing you bit your lip, reaching out to rub him through his pants.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Yn?" He asks plainly, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk.

"Yes." You smirked at him, your hands making quick work of the belt he was wearing as you undid it and pushed down the pants he was wearing. He was bigger than you were expecting him to be but you reached between you and took his cock into your hands gently rubbing him up and down as he let out a small groan.

"Do you have a condom?" You whispered to him, you didn't want to kill the mood but there was no way you were about to have unprotected sex with someone you barely knew. 

Chan took out of condom from his wallet and rolled it onto his long, hard and thick cock smirking down at you as you stared at him the whole time.

"You ready for me?" He whispers in your ear, biting down on your lobe as you nod at him, spreading your legs further apart. Chan eases into you slowly your eyes rolling back as you feel him hit the deepest parts of you.

"Oh shit," You moaned out unable to keep your voice down as he smirked at you, slowly pulling out only to slam back into you as you let out a scream of his name. Neither of you cared that people could hear you outside of your office.

"M-More," You begged as he began thrusting into you, harder and faster. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as he fucked into you at a steady pace. You'd had sex before but this, this was ecstasy every single thrust sending you closer to the edge.

Everyone outside probably knew what you were doing but you didn't give a fuck,

"F-Fuck! Chan," You hissed out as his rhythm picked up your hands gripping onto him as your head fell onto his shoulder biting down on him,

"You're so tight baby, you close already?" He chuckled out through a moan as you clench around him tightly, cumming hard around him at his words. You couldn't hold back the scream anymore as you cried out his name, not even trying to stop yourself anymore.

"I wanna get fucked like she is," Someone said from outside of your office but Chan didn't care, he continued to pound into you as you felt yourself building up. There was no way he was going to make you cum again, not so close together and Chan grunts lowly. 

"So fucking hot, you like people hearing us?" He arches a brow at you as you whimper lowly, your mind already half gone thanks to the two orgasms he'd given you. 

"P-Please," You whispered needing another high from him as you bucked toward his hips, his fingers reaching down and playing with your clit. Chan pumps in and out of you ruthlessly and you cry out as you feel yourself at the edge once again.

"Cum for me, little mouse. I want to feel you cum around my cock," He groans in your ear, thrusting harder until you pushed right off the edge of the cliff cumming loudly around him and gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

Once Chan cleaned you up a little he smirked at you, running his hand gently over your cheek and kissing your lips softly.

"Let me drive you home," He whispered breathlessly, you glanced down at the time and shook your head, you still had a few hours left at work.

"I have to work." You admitted, pouting a little as you thought about going to work instead of going out with him.

"As the owner, I say you can go home," The sentence made you freeze as you turned to stare at Chan.

"Owner?" Your brow arched a little as you waited for him to answer, Chan suddenly felt as though he'd put his foot in his mouth but he nodded.

"Yeah, I've owned this place for years, never really bothered with it until now though."

"You're the reason I got the promotion?" Maybe it should have made you feel like you'd cheated your way out of it but you'd deserved it from the start,

"No. I'm the reason the woman who had it got fired and your sleazy boss. You got the promotion all on your own." He promised you, kissing your forehead softly and smirking as you grabbed your things from behind the desk.

"Does that mean I fucked my boss?" You wiggled your eyebrows at Chan who let out a deep chuckle.

"It was hot though," He winks as you kiss his jawline softly before the two of you head out of your office ignoring the looks you were getting from everyone else on the floor as you made your way to the elevators.

"I have a whole evening planned for you," Chan tells you as he snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him breathing in deeply as he relaxes with you.

"Fun, I'll text Kat and let her know I'll be out late," Kat had moved into the huge apartment with you since you had so much space for only one person.

"No need, she's out with a friend." He winks at you before you head down to the garage floor of your building.

~Six Months Later~

"Excuse me, I think I remember your driver almost killing me? I don't think it's a romantic meet-cute at all," You teased Chan, he was bragging to his friends about the romantic way the two of you had gotten together and you weren't going to let him bullshit about it.

"Okay fine, but I took you on many romantic dates to make up for it!" He countered, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap, kissing you deeply as his friends around him groaned at the two of you.

"I thought the honeymoon phase would have ended." Kat groaned at you before you threw a pillow in her direction, hitting both her and her date - Minho before going back to kissing your boyfriend.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @felixismybf @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp

[enhadiares]

Hiiiii ❤️ Little request 🥰👉👈

can you do Enha Jay # mafia something like that it's kinda rare to find fics like that

love your fics so much sorry if i bothered you

🕷️A/N: IM SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO ANSWER YOU I REALLY AM 😭🙏 I HOPE YOU FORGIVE ME AND LIKE THIS ☹️☹️ I'll make a part of this if people like it and make it more yandere.

CHANCE

🕷️Warning: YANDERE THEMES , mentions of gun shot

🕷️ Pairing: mafia!Jay × doctor!reader

🕷️Synopsis:In the heart of a bustling city, Dr. (Reader) a renowned surgeon known for her unwavering commitment to saving lives, finds herself entangled in an unexpected situation when a notorious mafia leader, Jay Park, is brought into her emergency room, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound and what's worse is that , he gets obessed with her.

It was a usual day for (reader). The sun shining brightly, doing it's job perfectly showcasing her . How she was at her workplace again right on time . Very punctual indeed. With being punctual (reader) was also very hardworking.

She's a doctor at the be:lift hospital. She loves her job . It gives her a sense of comfort knowing she helps people heal , maybe there's a chance that she would save someone from dying.

Life is a very valuable thing which you can get just once . There may be second chances and she's here to give people just that. Second chance to live their life again , this time while taking care of their mistakes , learning from them and not repeating them again.

Second chances , very fascinating and amusing aren't they? Some people get second chance while some don't , it's upon fate .

Back to (reader) , she had just completed an operation successfully , saving yet another life. She felt at ease knowing she gave someone another chance to live .

Suddenly her peace was interrupted by loud noises , people were screaming in a hospital? Oh how rude - she thought. She was going to go stop them and ask why they were screaming in a hospital in the first place , they should know that it might disturb the patients.

But just as she was about to open the door she heard footsteps , they were getting louder as seconds passed by implying that someone was coming towards her . They also sounded like they were in a hurry . Maybe someone is very serious! - a thought crossed her mind and without any further ado she opened the door only to be my by 6 men , all in a similar attire : a black shiny and shimmery blazer , colour like that of a black hole with shining black boots where one could see their reflection. Upon studying their faces , she could sense they were panicking.

“Are you the doctor? Hurry up , he got shot!” one of the guy stated. He looked young yet authoritative, like he had some power.

(Reader) quickly nodded , it was about someone's life! She has to save him. She called out for some nurses and took the injured patient to the operation ward while the other waited outside for them.

He got shot? How would he get shot? He isn't dressed up like a cop. Is he a criminal? Her eyes widen at the thought but she wasn't sure about the assumption she's making . Should she prioritize saving the life of a potential criminal , or adhere strictly to her oath as a healer?

As Dr. L/n and her team work tirelessly to stabilize the patient's condition, tension fills the air. The presence of the person's six brothers, each with a intimidating aura as his own, looms over the hospital.

As the operation progresses, Dr. L/n is faced with unexpected challenges. The bullet has caused severe damage, and the patient's condition deteriorates rapidly. Despite her expertise, she fears that his chances of survival are slim.

With time running out, Dr. l/n makes a bold decision. Drawing upon all her skills and determination, she pushes herself to the limit, refusing to give up on her patient. In a high-stakes gamble, she performs a risky procedure that could either save the patient's life or seal his fate.

As the operation reaches its critical moment, a hush falls over the operating room. Every second feels like an eternity as Dr. L/n and her team fight to wrestle the patient back from the brink of death.

Finally, the monitors beep with renewed vigor, signaling a glimmer of hope. Against all odds, his heart begins to beat steadily once more, and his breathing stabilizes.

The surgery is a success.

A sigh of relief escapes her as she removes her mask to breath properly.

----

She goes out to inform the six individuals outside the room , awaiting for their companion to be saved.

“The surgery was a success. The patient is out of danger now”

She could hear multiple sighs of relief. They all felt like they could finally breath again , their tensed shoulders relaxed a bit after hearing the good news.

“You'll have to come with me now , I have some questions to ask" said Dr. l/n . She needed to know what exactly caused this.

“We need to see hyung first” the young yet intimidating guy proclaims.

“sure this way , but only two of you can enter as we can not have he patient feeling overwhelmed” (reader) sighs yet expresses her duties.

“I"ll go check on him guys” states the young guy

“I"ll accompany you !" Another voice asserts . He looked mature , maybe he is the eldest .

Dr l/n leads the way to the operating room where he patient lies . Upon reaching the guys rush towards him while she stays back just to observe.

Meanwhile Jay finally regained his consciousness back and opened his eyes , to be met with a sight of an angel , or so he thought.

Was he already in heaven? Oh he can't be with the number of crimes he has committed. So who is this angel like individual?

Upon seeing his eyes open , the other two individuals rush towards him.

“Jay! Are you okay?” questions the elder guy

Oh so his name is Jay - thinks (reader)

The younger one hits him “ofcourse he is not fine heeseung hyung , would you be fine if you were shot?”

“I'm just trying to be caring Jungwon!”

There goes their introduction too.

Despite the chaos and danger that surrounds him, Jay is captivated by her grace and skill, feeling a stirring within him that he's never experienced before.

As Jay awakens in the recovery room, his thoughts are consumed by Dr. L/n . Entranced by her beauty and kindness, he becomes obsessed with the idea of making her his own, convinced that she is the one who can bring light into his dark world afterall she's the one who brought him back to life right?

Jay is occupied with the thoughts of his newfound obsession, but his is brought back to reality by his two companions inquiring about his condition. To which he replies that it's fine because he can't seem to focus on anything else than the angel standing infront of his eyes.

He's observing her - Her beautiful face as if carved especially by God , every inch of her face and body screams perfection to him. Her shiny black lucious hair which turns brownish under the lights , her small button nose , or her eyes - she possesses brown almond-shaped eyes, framed delicately by medium-length eyelashes that accentuate her gaze. Her lips, adorned with a soft shade of pink, exude a subtle allure, adding a touch of warmth to her features.

Oh he was down bad for her . Was this what people refer to as love at first sight?

A knock interrupts all their activities.

“We all need you outside , the patient needs to rest and we need your statement” says a nurse

They bid their byes and inform him that he'll be out soon but all he can think about is how to get his hands on his angel and make her his.

----

The interrogation is stopped. The individuals were influential people and so they can do whatever they wished and they did not wish for this information to be out so they hushed everyone with their power. They wanted jay to be safe so they commanded for him to be shifted at their house where a doctor would help him if needed and fortunately for Jay , (reader) was chosen since she operated on him.

----

The next day , Jay is shifted to the nursery that is located in his big mansion. (Reader) was surprised at how big the mansion was , so they were rich rich.

Upon entering she also noticed alot of individuals wearing black blazer with guns in their hands . Were they that rich that they needed bouncers? The girl thought .

She helped Jay get comfortable and brought him lunch in time . While feeding him , she decided to interrogate him personally, maybe he could provide her with some information.

(Reader): Mr. Jay, can you recount the events leading to your injury?

Jay: It was a confrontation with a rival organization. We were negotiating a business deal when things turned violent.

(Reader): Were there any specific triggers that escalated the situation?

Jay: It seemed like a premeditated ambush. They were armed and ready when we arrived at the meeting point.

(Reader): Did you have any indication of hostility prior to the encounter?

Jay: Not explicitly, but tensions have been escalating between our groups for some time.

(Reader): I see. And how did you manage to escape the altercation?

Jay: I made a split-second decision to flee when the gunfire erupted, sustaining this injury in the process.

(Reader) : and what exactly do you do if I may ask?

Jay: You'll get know soon.

He expressed making (reader) frown . Why is it not the right time? What does he do that can't be spoken casually? Her thoughts are interrupted when someone comes barging in the room.

“Jay hyung I'm glad you are alright, we are planning to make them regret their actions by acquiring their company and killing them”

Her eyes widen at the word killing that the younger individual just slipped so casually. Was she in danger? Are these criminals?

“You should really read the room and check your surroundings before you speak Niki” said Jay rather calmly .

“i know I said soon but i didn't know it would be this soon , but now you know I guess. I am Jay Park - a mafia , a criminal or whatever your vocabulary describes individuals like me, but don't be scared , we won't harm you” he said with a eeire smile

All the words went from one ear and escaped through another , all (reader) heard was that he's a mafia. Confused and terrified, she finds herself thrust into a nightmare as Jay reveals his true identity but she knew better , she needed to act smartly and calmly. She took a deep breath .

“That's none of my business Jay , although I'm glad that I'm reassured about my safety”

Despite her initial fear, she senses a vulnerability within him so she doesn't ponder further . Niki mutters an apology and quickly leaves before he gets yelled at.

“I"ll be leaving tomorrow either way” speaks yn

“No you're not” Jay replies casually as if it was supposed to be common sense

“Umm yes I am , a nurse would be replacing me tomorrow” She filled him in with the necessary information

“No you won't ever be leaving me , this is your house from now on”

Her eyes widen at the words that left his mouth but later she started laughing.

“Omg you had me there Jay , I must say . You have a great sense of humour” she stopped laughing when she noticed Jay's face remained monotonous and serious . No sign of humour could be sensed from him.

“you're joking right?” questions yn in disbelief

“Whatever you want to think but you aren't going anywhere . If you can't piece it together , I'll piece it out for you . I love you and now you are mine ”

Would reader give Jay a chance ? Or would he need a second chance?

[vintagegeekculture]

So, a friend of mine on Discord said something interesting, and I feel like you might have thoughts on it. So. What do you think of the idea of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as being "The Shaw Brothers for kids", a sort of gateway drug for "the kung fu genre"?

Not the Shaw Brothers, but Golden Harvest. Let me explain: 

I’m going to sound like a conspiracy theorist when I say this, but I believe the New Line Cinema “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” (1990) movie was actually a money laundering scheme by the Chinese Mafia, specifically, the Sun Yee On Triad. 

Looking into the role of organized crime in martial arts cinema is a rabbit hole that goes very, very, very deep...and comes out somewhere very shocking at the end.

You mention the Shaw Brothers, but there was another Hong Kong Producer who was the only credible rival to the Shaw Brothers (and who eventually surpassed the Shaws) in martial arts movies: Golden Harvest’s Raymond Chow….a man who started off as the Shaw Brothers’ talent division, but who eventually founded his own rival studio to the Shaws (with rumored triad financial backing), and who made Bruce Lee, Angela Mao and Jackie Chan stars. Raymond Chow is widely, and extremely credibly, believed to be a middleman for the Hong Kong Triad, the Sun Yee On, who used Golden Harvest as a front facing money laundering scheme, as claimed by Frederic Dannen in "Hong Kong Babylon," and Yiu Kong Chiu in "The Triads as Business," books I recommend if you are at all interested in the topic of organized crime in the Hong Kong film industry.

Raymond Chow was also the producer and primary funder of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies. I mean, what does it mean when your movie is entirely produced and funded by a guy well known for being a triad middleman and money launderer?

And all of this happened at New Line Cinema, a borderline independent film company…one known for having dodgy financials it’s entire existence, no less, which ultimately doomed it? One of the most extraordinary things about the 1990 Ninja Turtles movie is that it was, essentially, an independent film. New Line would later become a powerhouse as a studio and created Lord of the Rings, but at the time, it was a mainly low rent operation, rather like Cannon films, known for the success of the slasher series “Nightmare on Elm Street.” So yes, I do believe "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" (1990) was a money laundering scheme by the Chinese Mafia.

The triads in Hong Kong, Macao, and Taiwan take enormous interest in financing martial arts movies for the same reason that they take a tremendous interest in financing porn movies: they’re quick, cheap, dirty, and can be used as a mechanism for laundering money, and a way to claim money from illegal sources (say, heroin) comes from a clean and legal source that can be claimed on taxes, like say, a movie studio. In addition, Hong Kong’s strict rating system, the Category III (equivalent to a far stricter R-rating) meant that very violent movies were handled in ways that were outside the law in ways similar to pornography. And according to several Senate investigations in 1991 ("Hearings on Asian Organized Crime"), the triads were actively involved in money laundering as well outside of Hong Kong, including currency trading and real estate, and the idea they could back a studio is entirely possible.

Everyone working in Hong Kong cinema has a story of dealing with the triads, who are interwoven into the city. Anita Mui's manager was was shot dead by mafiosos. Jimmy Wang Yu, the first Kung Fu star, was a suspected member of the Bamboo Union triad, and once borrowed money from one triad to pay another....and may have used his reported connections with the Triads to get Jackie Chan out of his initial contract with Golden Harvest, a favor Jackie repaid. Golden Harvest studios were actually firebombed in 1984, an event suspected to be due to Triad activity. Raymond Chow’s fellow producer and good friend who discovered Steven Chow, film producer Charles Heung, is well known to be the son of Heung Chin, who founded the Sun Yee On Triad, the largest in Hong Kong with over 25,000 members. And you don’t have to take my word for it; a US Senate Committee in 1991 on Asian Organized Crime identified Cheung as a leader of the Sun Yee On along with his brothers. Because of his association with Charles Heung and the Sun Yee On, Steven Chow, director of Kung Fu Hustle, cannot enter Canada legally.

Jackie Chan asserted Raymond Chow’s triad connections in his autobiography, and also claimed that he only hired triad members and other people who were mobbed up at Golden Harvest. One example would be producer Ng See Yuen, who produced Once Upon a Time in China for Golden Harvest, and who Jet Li refused to work with ever again after his manager was assassinated by triad gunmen (Jet Li blamed Ng See Yuen for his manager's death).

There's also Lo Wei, a Shaw Brothers director and known “Red Pole” enforcer of the Sun Yee On Triad, who came over to Golden Harvest, where he directed Bruce Lee’s Chinese Connection and Big Boss, and also directed Jackie Chan’s earliest “period” historical movies for GH. Jackie Chan, in his autobiography, stated that the reason he initially left Hong Kong to go to the United States for an American career was because Lo Wei, his director on Laughing Hyena, put a hit out on him for refusing to make Laughing Hyena 2, and Jackie had to flee the city when Lo Wei sent gunmen to his house to abduct him. When arriving in the United States, he had to avoid some men with machine guns at the airport. To this day, whenever possible, Jackie Chan goes out in public armed for fear of gangsters. 

Even Jackie Chan though, never made the assertion that Raymond Chow and the Sun Yee On had Bruce Lee killed. This is important to mention because if you talk to any Chinese person, nearly all of them believe with unshakable, absolute certainty that the Chinese Mafia killed Bruce Lee, which is literally the plot of Game of Death (which, incidentally, Raymond Chow produced). Everyone around Bruce was mobbed up, because everyone in the Hong Kong film industry was mobbed up; in fact, it’s an open question how much it existed for its own sake. It’s notable Bruce Lee died at the home of Betty Lo Ting Pei, Golden Harvest actress, and his known mistress…who was married to a triad gangster. It’s also known that the first person that Betty Lo Ting Pei called when Bruce died was not medical services but Raymond Chow, something that to this day, she has not attempted to explain. 

It can be hard to imagine what the motive is for Raymond Chow and the triads to kill Bruce Lee. After all, wouldn’t Bruce Lee be more useful to Raymond Chow alive than dead? I never saw the angle, here. But then, you consider that in the last few months of his life, Bruce Lee started to set the stage for his transition to behind the scenes roles like producer, and was assembling a lot of stunt talent around him (a lot of productions down the pipeline intended to have Bruce Lee in producer roles, like Circle of Iron). The rumor among the stunt players, as recounted by Sammo Hung, was that Bruce was attempting to form his own stunt and film production company (as Chiba later did successfully in Japan) and that would involve organizing and peeling off half the talent in Hong Kong….in a deeply triad controlled industry, no less. There was also a story recounted by witnesses that Bruce Lee, a temperamental and explosively violent man, physically assaulted Raymond Chow in his office with punches and kicks when he heard Chow had two sets of books in their shared production company, as Bruce was always keen to keep the triads out of his films. Ten days later, Bruce Lee was dead. And for weeks before his death, Lee told his friends "Hong Kong is getting too hot, I have to get out."

And you know something? A Ninja Turtles movie from 1990 is probably the least of it. In 2020, a few documents were declassified by the Taiwanese government that showed that the members of the Bamboo Union Triad had 19 top governmental positions in Taiwan from 1955-1984 (the era when Taiwan was in a complete state of military rule), including the National Security Bureau and all branches of the armed forces. In other words, Taiwan during the military rule era wasn't just corrupted by the triads, the triads were the government.

I never cease to be amazed at the incuriousness of the journalistic professions. Governments don't declassify documents - especially something as damning as triad involvement in government - unless they have to. So why would the Tsai Ing-Wen government reveal this now in 2020, especially when anti-corruption is the driving force of Taiwanese politics, and anti-corruption sentiment pushed the KMT out of power since the 90s? Outsiders believe that the single biggest question in Taiwanese politics is their relationship with the mainland. Kinda...the status quo is more or less a settled question. It's actually anti-corruption and anti-triad infiltration, which is why the DPP are the ruling party now.

The answer, I suspect, is that the triads are no longer working with the Taiwanese government, but with the mainland government. In the 1980s, Wong Man Fong, editor of the Xinhua paper of Hong Kong, said in several interviews he was asked by the People's Republic of China to reach out to the triads to help make a deal: no government interference in their activities, if they pledge to keep order in the city after the handover in 1997. I strongly suspect the mainland now has a similar arrangement with the Bamboo Union, Green Gang, and the Si Hai Bang they did in Hong Kong, especially since so much money is going back and forth with the release of trade to the mainland. In other words, the triads in Taiwan are active agents of the PRC.

Backdoor deals between government and the mob aren't out of the question, just ask the CIA, who used Giancana Crime Family assassins sent to kill Castro as a key plank of the Bay of Pigs Invasion, the role of the mafia in the Kennedy Assassination, or how control of opium was a key under-the-table reason for the invasion of Afghanistan.

What I suspect happened is, the Taipei government is turning on organized crime now after decades and decades of ludicrous and obvious corruption, because to the triads, the money to be made with the mainland and unification is far more lucrative. It's no coincidence that the largest pro-unification party in Taiwan is led by a triad gangster who spent time in jail for racketeering, Chang An Lo, nicknamed "the White Wolf." Like John Gotti, everyone knows he's a mobster and that's even part of the White Wolf's coolness and appeal (if you could vote for Tony "Scarface" Montana, boy, I bet a lot of guys would), but nobody can touch him. In fact, combined with how the "light world" financial institutions are intertwined along with the underworld, there's an argument to be made that the reason the PRC hasn't tried to take Taiwan is that for all intents and purposes, they already have it.

In other words, the triads have gone from using the Ninja Turtles to money launder to essentially setting global geopolitics.

[nakahras]

᯽ my love (mine all mine) • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • domesticity with chuuya

warning • intentional lower case, fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff

wc • 1.1k

a/n • a little something something for you guys bc i needed some soft chuuya after the week i’ve had

it’s hot — far too hot, as a matter of fact, for the air conditioned room you fell asleep in. you didn’t mean to fall asleep. truth is, you were supposed to be waiting for your boyfriend, who was coming back from a mission today — one that lasted almost 3 agonizingly long weeks. but how the hell were you supposed to stay awake when he asked you to wait for him at his luxurious apartment… okay so maybe you didn’t have to lay in his bed to wait for him but you were so exhausted and his bed is like laying on a cloud.

absolutely no one could blame you for taking advantage of that opportunity, not even chuuya.

you’re becoming more lucid as the grogginess starts to dissipate and you notice a distinct weight on your chest when you go to move the covers off of you to get some relief from the heat. you begrudgingly open your eyes to find a mess of orange hair tickling at your neck. you can’t help the fond smile that settles onto your lips and the amused puff of air that escapes through your nose. your hand is already settling into the ginger's hair, gently stroking through the soft waves. 

you wonder, distantly, what time he got home and how you didn’t notice his presence until now.

his cheek is squished on your chest, mouth open ajar, drooling slightly. you don’t even have the heart to be annoyed by the wet spot on your (read: his) t-shirt because of how peaceful he looks. his face is void of any of the usual rigidness and worry he wears when he’s awake, thanks to his position as a port mafia executive. he deserves this break and the rest, god knows he’s earned every second of this and who are you to deny him of it?

you look around, trying to gain a sense of what time it is but thanks to chuuya evidently shutting his black out curtains, it’s impossible to tell midday from midnight right now. one thing you can tell is that it’s hot. chuuya has always been like a personal heater, body temperature running abnormally high, something about his body being a host for the god of calamity — apparently that tends to alter the average body. it comes in handy when it’s winter and freezing but during the summer it’s suffocating almost. 

you need to escape, your bladder has very unfortunate timing, not only are you uncomfortable from sweating but your bladder is screaming at you to empty it. 

the soft snores escaping chuuya’s lips tell you he’s in a deep enough sleep that you may be able to peel him off of you without disturbing his much needed rest. you gently and carefully unravel his arm from your torso. as you go to place his arm at his side, his face scrunches in protest and he groans. your breath hitches and you instinctively hold it in, body going rigid as you try not to disturb him any further. luckily you don’t have to do much else in ways of moving the executive because his groan is followed by a louder snore and him rolling over to his other side, facing away from you and curling in on himself.

you let out a breath of relief and cautiously roll out of bed. you don’t even bother putting any pants on, you scurry out of the room to find the nearest bathroom that won’t disturb your sleeping beauty. 

when you finish up, you don’t make your way back to the bed that’s still calling your name. instead, you pad out to the kitchen to find the sun slowly descending into the horizon, sunset a mere few minutes away. the sky is already drowning in a deep orange, the warmth of the glow inviting. you ignore the visceral need to stand at the glass floor to ceiling windows and watch the sunset to make yourself a cup of tea first. it takes you no time at all to brew up a cup for yourself.

you turn on some soft music and return to the windows just in time to watch the setting sun paint the sky various hues of purple and pink. you let your eyes droop, happy to just feel the warmth.

your thoughts are halted when a pair of arms sneak around your waist and a chin is propped on your shoulder. 

“abandoned me and didn’t even wake m’up ta say it ta m’face?” his speech is slurred from grogginess and a smile creeps up onto your face at the thought of him immediately seeking you out after waking up. 

you turn your head to find his face scrunched up into a pout, you let out an amused chuckle and place a soft kiss to his temple. you’re met with an accusatory glare.

“‘n’ now you’re tryna butter m’up.” his frown deepens and eyebrows crease closer together. 

you let out a snort. “of course i wasn’t gonna wake you up. i’m quite certain you needed the rest.”

you begin to sway to the music absentmindedly and chuuya follows in step and sways along with you. it’s soothing, finally being held in his arms after so long, the level intimacy of dancing with him like this and watching the sunset is something you find yourself craving all the time when you’re with chuuya. it was jarring at first, being someone who usually struggles with that type of intimacy, but it’s become second nature with him.

you hum contentedly, a smile still playing at your lips. “woke up just in time to watch the sunset with me, though.”

you miss the weight of his chin on your shoulder the moment he removes it but you don’t have much time to think about it. your expression twists into one of confusion when the ginger takes your now empty mug from your hands and places it on a nearby side table. you open your mouth to question him but, once again, you don’t get the chance as he twirls you around to face him. 

chuuya takes one of your hands and places it on his shoulder while he takes hold of the other. his free hand rests on your hip and he begins to sway the two of you into a more involved dance. you make a confused noise in the back of your throat but the executive is talking before you can.

“don’t, please- just… let me have this for a bit. missed you…”

you smile again and rest your head on his chest. “i missed you too, sunshine.”

[owlisbuffering]

The Name Game

Yuu has taken to using whatever nickname comes to mind when talking to the TWST boys, most of them puns or references to pop culture from their home world that no one understands. No one is safe and it's getting out of hand. Selections include:

Grim: Grimlin, Grimothy, Grimotheus, Fire and Grimstone, Grim Burton, Grim and Tonic, Grim and Bear It, Tiny Grim

(Dorms after the cut)

Heartslabyul

or The House of Cards

Ace: Aces, Ace of Base, Arsenic and Old Ace, DumbAce, SmartAce, Aceassin, Ace-mmetry, Acemmetrical, Crappola, It's a Trap!pola, All About That Ace

Deuce: Deuce Goose, Loosey Deucey (that one was a mistake; immediate regret), Deuces Wild, Deuce on the Loose, What the Deuce, Pas de Deuce, Mother Deuce

Trey: Trey Table, Tea Trey, Muffin Man, Treytor Tot, Great ExpecTreytions, Treytrix Reloaded, Cloverfield, Treytor, Treylor Swift

Cater: C8r Boi, Cater to My Whims, Caterer, Whip and Cay Cay, Diamonds are Forever, Cater-ina, Diamond Jubilee, Kiss Me Cate-r

Riddle: Riddle Me This, McRiddle, Hey Riddle Riddle, Kissed by a Rosehearts, Meet Me in the Riddle, Riddleculous

Savanaclaw

or The Watering Hole

Leona: Leona 500, Lion Sleeps Tonight, Aweem Away, Cat Nap, Comatose, Rip Van Winkle, Lambert

Ruggie: Ruginald, Teach Me How to Ruggie, Rug Doctor, Artful Dodger,

Jack: Jack Be Nimble, Jack Sprat, Jack and the Beanstalk, House that Jack Built, Jumping Jack, Hungry Like the Wolf, Big Bad Wolf, Team Jacob

Octavinelle

or 3 Fish Mafia

Jade: Thing 1, Jaderade, Made in the Jade, Nephrite

Floyd: Thing 2, Vicegrip, Personal Space Invader, Pink Floyd

Azul: Tako Time, Tako Tuesday, Octillery

Scarabia

or The Cave of Wonders

Jamil: Snek, Danger Noodle, Hissy-fit, Peanut Butter and Jam-il

Kalim: Mr Golden Sun, Kalim Me Maybe

Pomefiore

or Sephora

Epel: Epel Juice, Epel-sauce, Epel Pie, Fizzgig, Stufful, Pancham, Sour Epel, Incred-Epel Hulk

Rook: Rook Nook, Rookery, Lumiere, Corvus Christi, Murkrow, Rookadoodle

Vil: Queen V, Beyoncé, Potato Queen,  Madame Peacock

Ignihyde

or Best Buy

Ortho: Orthopedic, Orthodontic, Mr. Roboto, Robotnik, XJ9, Jenny, How to Build a Better Boy

Idia: Ghost Rider, My Good Hotman, Shroud of Darkness, Your Most Lugubriousness

Diasomnia

or Shadow Castle

Sebek: How Doth the Little Crocodile, Coccodrillo, Schnappi, Spinal Tap (because his vol goes up to 11), Totodile

Silver: Sleeping Beauty, Narcolepsy, Poker Face, Woodland Whisperer, Snorlax, Sleeper Cell

Lilia: Lils, Batty, Batman, Stellaluna, Littlest Vampire, Gramps, Lil' Guy, Woobat, Team Edward

Malleus: Toothless, Drag-on, Falcor, Mushu, Spike, Dragon Tales, Malleable, Malnutrition, Malfeasance, Malodrama

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I'D MEET THE SEA UNDER THE SUNLIGHT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai knows. he knows who you are. he knows what you do. and not only does he know, but in typical dazai fashion, he decides to make it fully your problem. now you're stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out what to do with him—the answer should be obvious, you just can't accept it. but time is ticking and you're treading a thin rope, if you make the smallest mistake...

AUTHOR'S NOTES: part four my children. my eye procedure went well! i've been resting all day, i prob won't be active very much until monday/tuesday, so i'lll queue a few reblogs of this ... i say that, but i also don't know if ill be able to stop myself from responding to comments HAHAH i just love talking to u guys about it so much i cant help it. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: i didnt get the chance to proofread this one bc of the procedure so don't crucify me if the grammar is awful </3 i have a doctor's pass </3

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

It takes Dazai Osamu approximately two days, seven hours and fifty-three minutes to get his hands on proof of your affiliation with the Port Mafia. He supposes it was due to luck—the timing of when he got confirmation of his suspicions—but Dazai thinks it’s also due to his ability to think quickly if he does say so himself. 

He stares at the file that Katai emailed him, a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to push away, unsure if he wants to open it and be forced with physical evidence of who you are and what you do. He doesn’t even know why he’s so hesitant, he already knows. He already knows so he shouldn’t be hesitant… but if he already knows, then why does he need to see the proof? What is this going to do for him? What is he going to do with this information? Nothing, the answer is nothing, so then why-

Katai: Can you quit holding that date from four years ago over my head now?

Dazai: no ^.^

Katai: Of course not. Whatever. Dazai, I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop digging into this—it’s dangerous. And I don’t want to be involved.

Dazai shuts his phone off immediately. 

He hovers the cursor over the video file on his laptop, chewing the inside of his cheek—the supposed footage from whatever happened behind Tokyo’s City Hall last night. With his heart tight in his chest and the image of your smile burned behind his eyelids, he clicks on the file.

Two days after the event, you and Chuuya are sitting in Mori’s office getting the talk down of a lifetime. Mori has been going on for thirty minutes already and you’re sick of his voice. You don’t know how it’s your fault that the Shimazaki-kai decided to try to take you out while you were in Tokyo but evidently it is.

“I don’t see how this is an issue, boss,” Chuuya finally says, voice strained. “The Sun and Steel are already on top of the situation, Noriko was livid when she realized that they tried to assassinate one of us while we were in Tokyo under the Sun and Steel’s protection.”

“You don’t see how this is an issue,” Mori repeats slowly, voice nothing short of mocking. Usually, he at least tries to mask his annoyance—you and Chuuya share a concerned look with one another. “You don’t see how it’s an issue that we’ve caused this conflict to escalate to the point of the Shimazaki-kai being willing to go to war with the Sun and Steel if it means the mere chance of getting rid of one of us?”

“Okay,” Chuuya mutters. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, little hime,” Mori says coolly, leveling his calculating gaze onto you. You don’t flinch beneath it, meeting it head on as you raise your chin. “This all stems from your reckless decision to attack the Inagawa-kai.”

“She didn’t have a choice.” Chuuya jumps to your defense, frowning. “They attacked her at the ports. That was a declaration of war in itself.”

You almost wince at the ridiculing look Mori directs toward Chuuya, voice amused as he speaks. “Is that what she told you?”

Chuuya gives you a questioning look but you don’t give Mori anymore time to stir the pot. You don’t need Chuuya knowing that your decision was driven by Dazai of all people—he’s already angry enough about the situation with the civilian. 

“And here I thought you were going to… what was it you said? ‘Clean up my mess?’” you say snidely, drawing Mori’s attention back to you. “Perhaps the real reason the Yakuza syndicates are so willing to challenge our authority is not because of my decision but rather because of the incapability perceived in our boss.” 

Chuuya’s eyes shoot open and Mori raises his brows, entirely unperturbed by your comment. 

“To think all it would take for you to start biting back…” Mori trails off, unbearably amused and clearly referring to Dazai, making you stiffen. “How fascinating. You’ve kept up this ruse longer than I expected. I think this is the first time you’ve managed to surprise me, little hime.” 

Your expression twists as you look away, ignoring the lost look Chuuya gives you, clearly irritated because he doesn’t know what’s going on. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you take the welcome distraction eagerly, hoping to find an excuse to get out of this wretched meeting.

Klaus: your civilian boy is at your tower

You: What?

Klaus: *one image attached*

You stare down at your phone in shock, desperately trying to ignore the curious looks Mori and Chuuya are sending your way.

What the fuck?

Dazai tilts his head to the side, giving the three boys standing in front of him a simpering smile. One of them—the emo one with black hair and white tips—bares his teeth at Dazai like a feral dog, the one in the middle—Dazai recognizes him as Klaus, the boy with you that day at the ports—gives him an irritable look, while the one standing in the back—a nervous looking boy with choppy silver hair and a black collar—lets out a pathetic noise in the back of his throat.

“She’s gonna be so fucking mad at you,” Klaus tells him, voice harsh. His Japanese is broken and accented but understandable for the most part. “She’s gonna fucking-”

He shifts into a foreign language mid-sentence—German, maybe—so Dazai doesn’t know what he’s saying but he’s sure it’s nothing good. He keeps up the overly confident facade, even if he does start to doubt himself internally.

Shit, he thinks to himself, smile fraying at the edges, what is he doing?

Dazai definitely did not think this through and it’s way too late for him to back down now. After watching the video and seeing you with the gravity manipulator, seeing the brief battle in the alley behind the Tokyo city hall, Dazai pretty much blackmailed Katai into using the CCTV cameras between both cities to follow you back to Yokohama to see what building you live in. In retrospect, maybe that’s a little creepy, but he just watched you and the gravity manipulator kill a whole crew of people so he thinks stalking you a bit isn’t too bad in comparison.

“Who do you think you are?” the black-haired one says, voice tight and pitched. His jaw is clenched tight and he takes half a step forward but pauses when he sees the sharp look of warning that Klaus gives him.

He thinks maybe he is stupid. Ango used to rattle him around and yell at him for doing stupid things back before Odasaku died but he thinks this might take the cake for the stupidest thing Dazai has ever done. Standing outside a building owned by the Mafia, antagonizing three mafiosos, waiting here to demand a conversation with someone who is likely their boss. Ango might’ve been right when he said that Dazai has no functioning brain cells.

“None of your business,” Dazai replies with a sweet smile, almost giggling at the way the boy bears his teeth again, even more livid than before.

“You-”

“Stop.”

All three boys go rigid at the sound of your voice and even Dazai stiffens at the cold tone. He forces himself to turn his head to the side, eyes falling upon you as you make your way toward the four of them. The suit you’re wearing today is different—usually he’s seen you wear black on black, but today you’re wearing a burgundy button-up under your suit jacket. You look beautiful—always do, Dazai thinks wistfully—but Dazai finds himself swallowing thickly instead, not used to the blank look you cast over him before you turn your attention over to the three boys.

Ouch, Dazai thinks, not really knowing what he expected but it still hurts to be dismissed like that.

“Klaus, go wipe the cameras around headquarters—wherever he might have passed through,” you say. “Akutagawa, Atsushi, if anyone finds out about this…”

The two boys that Dazai doesn’t recognize share a look with one another, odd expressions spreading across their faces before they nod. All three scamper off without another word, the silver-haired boy giving Dazai a short, worried look that puts Dazai on edge before leaving. You don’t look at him. Rather, you stride right past him toward the building.

Dazai swallows thickly before following after you. You don’t say a word as you lead him to the tall, black building and Dazai wants to say something but his words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Dazai always has something to say but he doesn’t right now and that scares him because he needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you when the two of you finally get up to your apartment.

“Hey, I know you’re a mafia executive because I had my hacker friend get me CCTV tapes from the Tokyo City Hall and I saw you and that short ginger with the tacky hat murder a bunch of guys. Plus, I had him stalk you so I could figure out where you live.”

Yeah, right.

Dazai shivers at the rush of cool air that hits him as he enters the building with you, watches the way the doorman gives him a curious look before inclining his head to you. You give the older man a pointed look before nodding your head to one of the corners of the room and the elevator—Dazai doesn’t know what you’re getting at but he obviously does from the way says:

“Of course, hime.”

You don’t say anything still, leading him toward the elevator and holding it open so he can step past and stand inside. You follow after him, clicking the button to the top floor of the building before scanning a keycard.

How awkward.

Dazai almost wants to crawl out of his own skin, toss himself right out of the glass elevator looking over the city. You don’t even look at him—you keep your gaze trained forward, lips curled down, not even sparing Dazai the briefest glance as the elevator starts to move up. 

Maybe this was a mistake, Dazai starts to think, twiddling with his fingers as he keeps sparing short glances in your direction. He still doesn’t even know what he wants to come from this—shouldn’t the proof of your affiliation with the Mafia have been enough to send him running? He should’ve taken it as reason to stop reaching out to you, gone back to life before you but-

But life before you was dark. 

His throat spasms as he swallows. Life before you was dark. Life before you was him dragging himself out of bed every day trying to convince himself that he couldn’t let himself die until he fulfilled Odasaku’s final request. Life before you was him fighting depressive episode after depressive episode with alcohol and sex, preferring pain to the emptiness he seemed to constantly be plagued with because at least that meant he could feel something. 

He doesn’t want to go back to that—you’re the first person who's actually seen him since Odasaku died. The first person to make him feel as if he’s worth something. He doesn’t give a shit about about what you do, he doesn’t want to go back to life without you.

He glances over at you again, catching the eerily blank expression on your face as you stare ahead. Three words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

“Are you mad?” His voice wavers over the question; he feels pathetic. Feels like a kid tugging at his mother’s shirt after he did something wrong.

You finally look at him though, turn your head slowly toward him as if you don’t even want to believe he actually asked that. Dazai doesn’t know if it’s progress or not because the expression on your face is nothing short of livid.

“Okay,” he says quietly, averting his gaze back to the glass of the elevator.

God, how many floors is this building? The ride to the top floor is taking an agonizingly long amount of time. He doesn’t know if it’s because the elevator itself is slow or if it’s because the building is just that tall or if it just seems longer because of Dazai’s own turmoil—either way, it leaves Dazai miserable.

He really needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you. He should have figured it out before coming here but Dazai just got too antsy with the information Katai gave him on hand and he found himself making his way over here before he could double guess himself.

He doesn’t think you’ll appreciate him using Katai to get the evidence of your position in the Mafia—plus, it could put him in danger and Dazai doesn’t want that. He thinks maybe he’ll pin the blame on his professor—you don’t seem to like him anyway, so you might take it at face value. If you don’t, he’ll have to figure something else out to protect Katai but Dazai has always been a quick thinker so he has faith that he’ll think of something. 

 If he’s lucky, you’ll lead the conversation and he’ll be able to reflect off of you after seeing where your head's at. That would be the best case scenario.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator finally bings, signaling that it has finally reached the top floor of the building. You step out before him, hardly even looking at him as you stride into your apartment. Dazai follows after, a bit more hesitantly.

His breath catches as his gaze twists around the massive space—floor to ceiling windows line the walls looking over the city, black couches set up in front of the TV and expensive decor littering the room, there’s a kitchen off to the right and a staircase leading up to a second level. 

What types of apartments have staircases? Dazai thinks, distressed, finally looking back at you. 

You’ve crossed the room—almost like you’ve wanted to put as much distance as possible between you and him, which is a thought that kind of hurts because he’s been yearning for your presence since you left his apartment the morning you were supposed to leave for abroad. Your expression is entirely unreadable and Dazai doesn’t really know how to feel about that because he can’t figure out how to approach this now. 

“You know, originally I was interested in you because I thought you were a lot smarter than you made yourself out to be,” you say, voice dry. Dazai nearly cheers, realizing that he did, in fact, get the best case scenario—he listens intently, mind racing as he tries to figure out what route he should take with you. “I was clearly wrong.”

Dazai pouts. “My bella thinks I’m stupid,” he sighs dramatically but his lashes flutter as he averts his gaze when you don’t find any amusement in his words, readjusting his plan. His theatrical lilt falls flat when he adds, “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think there’s a maybe,” you correct, unamused. “What do you know and what do you want?” 

Dazai is almost taken aback by your tone—cold and flat, very transactional. Maybe he should have taken the lead because he doesn’t know what you mean and he doesn’t like your tone. He watches as you fish through your pocket to find a cigarette and lighter, sticking it between your lips to light it. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows.

“What?” he asks, voice a bit weak.

“What do you know and what do you want? I think they’re pretty simple questions,” you say sardonically. “I have a general idea of what you know already—if you’re here, you have more than whatever that cunt Ui has on me—and I promise you that no amount of money the Ivory Eagle will offer you can compare to what I’ll give you. Plus, I’ll have to kill you if you go to it with them so I think that’s pretty convincing in itself. I want to know exactly what you know so I can figure out how much they’d pay you for the information. I figure you want money, that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t…” Dazai trails off, a bit lost. He’s still not sure why he came here but he knows it’s not for money and honestly, he thinks he’s a little hurt that you assumed that, can feel the sting in his chest and the lump in his throat.

The smile you give him is cool, you tilt your head to the side and look at him. “Come on, Dazai, you don’t have to keep up with the act. You got close to me to get evidence for Ui, that’s obvious; probably realized it would be more worthwhile trying to get money from me to keep you quiet because they’ve barely got enough money to keep their shitty journalism house running. Honestly, I should probably just-”

“No,” Dazai forces out, interrupting you, lips parted and throat swollen—this is not going well. “That’s not-that’s not true. I didn’t get close to you to get evidence, I didn’t even know until the other day.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Dazai?” you ask, expression tight. “Because I’m not. As soon as you slipped up and said his name at the event, I realized. You think we don’t know everything that goes on in this city? About that shitty journalist group trying to expose us?” 

“I didn’t slip up,” Dazai says, voice more shrill than he intended it to be. His mind falls flat at every corner as he tries to figure out how to salvage this. “I didn’t slip up because I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It wasn’t-this wasn’t some grand scheme, I like you-” (he didn’t mean to say that) “I mean-it’s just-I don’t-”

Dazai feels flustered. He feels flustered and he’s stumbling over words in a way that he hasn’t in years, unable to get out a single coherent sentence because his mind is all over the place. Shit, he thought he was going to have to defend himself from having Katai stalk you so he could figure this out and find you; he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself because you thought everything from day one was some grand scheme to expose you as a mafioso.

You clearly don’t believe him from the way you roll your eyes and it makes Dazai’s distress spike exponentially. 

“Then pray tell, Dazai, why are you here? You’re here for something, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to show up here of all places to dangle over my head that you know who I am.”

The words slip from his lips before he can stop them.

“I wanted you to stop ignoring me,” he says, arms instinctively curling around his body as he stares at you, feeling more than a bit vulnerable at the blank look you give him in response to his words.

“You… want to make me stop ignoring you by… blackmailing me?”

“... Yes?”

The sigh you let out is long. Instead of responding, you take a drag of your cigarette, tilting your head back against the wall you’re leaning on to look up at the ceiling. Dazai stares at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for your response.

“What do you have on me?” you finally ask, taking a few steps forward to put the cigarette out on an ashtray before raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. “Well? I know you must have more than the location of this building.”

Dazai hesitates before he says, “Footage from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

Your expression doesn’t betray you as you press, “Footage of what?”

“You and the ginger with the ugly hat,” Dazai answers, trying not to smile at the way you clearly have to hide your amusement at his snide comment. 

“What are we doing in the footage?” you ask. “What makes it condemning?”

“… He splattered six guys against the wall.” 

You sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dazai. You saw that and still came here? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dazai gives you a weak smile “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, there are a lot of things wrong with me,” he tells you, echoing the words from your second meeting with him, hoping they make you lighten up.

They do.

He watches as you let out another breath, tense shoulders relaxing, suddenly looking a lot more tired as you look away from him.

“I missed you,” he adds quietly, fingers running along the hem of his sweater. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to kiss a guy like you did and then ghost him.”

“It was to keep you out of this life, Dazai,” you say tiredly. “I mean-shit, Dazai. I don’t know what you want me to do, I don’t even trust you right now, you could have a fucking wire on you for all I know and-”

“I could strip for you,” Dazai offers, lips curling up in a flirtatious smile as he flutters his lashes at you. “I’ll give you a show.”

You’re not amused.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Dazai. This is your life.”

“Well, my life has been one giant joke up until I met you so forgive me if I don’t care,” Dazai says, voice unintentionally rising in response to your words because who are you to decide on his behalf to cut him off because his life is in danger. That’s a decision for him to make. “You can’t just make those decisions for me.”

Dazai thinks he prefers the anger that crosses over your face to the tiredness and emptiness. His breath catches when he sees the way your jaw tightens and the way your eyes get fired up.

“It doesn’t just affect you, Dazai,” you hiss. “If you get pulled into this and something happens to you, that’s on me.”

Dazai’s heart jumps at the implications of your words, nails digging into his palms.

“And how does that affect you?” Dazai presses, the desperation that hangs off of his words so glaring that Dazai almost wants to curl in on himself. He wants to hear you say it, wants you to alleviate all of the thoughts threatening to consume him since you left his apartment that morning—wants to hear you say that you care, that he does mean something to you.

Your expression becomes closed off again as you realize what he wants you to say and Dazai swallows thickly, gaze searching your face for answers.

“You know how it affects me,” you finally respond as you look away. “You know, Dazai.”

It has nothing to do with what I want, you said at the event when he asked why you didn’t tell him why you didn’t want to be with him. The conflict on your face when you said things were too complicated to explain. The anger when you realized Professor Ui had purposely put him in danger trying to get evidence to condemn the Sun and Steel.

“I want you to say it,” he says hoarsely.

You don’t reply for a moment, watching him with an expression that’s impossible for him to decipher. Your brows are furrowed and your lips are pressed together tight, but the look in your eyes—there’s so much emotion in them that Dazai thinks he could get lost in them, it nearly leaves him breathless.

“You are actually the bane of my existence, Dazai Osamu,” you finally say, shoulders slumping as you look away again. Not exactly what he wanted to hear but he thinks that’s as good of an admission that he’s going to get right now.

“And the object of all of your desires?” Dazai prods with a teasing smile.

Your gaze cuts back toward him. “Did you just quote Bridgerton at me?” you ask, voice riddled with disbelief.

Embarrassed, Dazai flushes and then he hits you back with: “You watched Bridgerton?”

Instead of responding, seemingly equally embarrassed by the callout as Dazai is, you scowl at him and shake your head but your voice is lighter now when you speak—if only barely. “Honestly, Dazai, what did you think you were going to get out of this by coming here? I could have killed you. I should kill you. Coming to the headquarters of the Port Mafia to blackmail one of its executives with evidence threatening to expose them-”

“I didn’t threaten to expose you,” Dazai protests, prancing a bit more into your apartment. Now that he’s not as stressed, he can actually admire your apartment—apartment, is this even an apartment? He runs his fingers along the pristine black marble of the bar separating your kitchen from the living room, ignoring the way your eyes follow him. “I just…”

“You threatened to expose me,” you interrupt dryly. “You implied it.”

“I did not,” Dazai complains. “It’s not my fault you took it that way.”

You roll your eyes. “What were you thinking, Dazai?” you ask again.

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “I’m thinking that you’re going to take me out on a date.”

You don’t know why you’re even entertaining him.

Three days later, you’re outside Dazai’s apartment complex waiting for him to get back from his classes. You’d have gone to the campus itself but you don’t feel like having to beg Albatross or Iceman to get into the campus cameras to wipe the footage of you being there, especially knowing that it’ll get right back to Chuuya who is still under the belief that you’re no longer talking to Dazai.

You scowl as you look down at your phone, checking the time again. He should’ve been back ten minutes ago—you told him you were here waiting. Your reservation is in thirty minutes and he still has to change, you glance over your shoulder as a group of college students make their way toward the complex. You hardly stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you’d figured that the complex would be popular with the kids attending YNU—that’s why you ended up buying it—but you really don’t want to interact with any of them. 

You can feel them looking at you too—fuck, you should have just stayed in your car. From the corner of your eye, you can see them exchange curious looks with one another. One of the boys nudges another, clearly beckoning him to go try to talk to you and you will strength from the gods-

You hear your name fall from familiar lips, quiet and unsure, and the unpleasant expression that you know must be on your face melts away. You let your head fall to the side over your shoulder, gaze focusing on Dazai—he’s dressed casually in a brown sweater and cream pants, school books tucked to his chest and backpack hanging off of his shoulders. He looks surprised at the sight of you so you raise your eyebrows.

“You’re late, I texted you,” you say simply as he approaches you, glancing at the car and then to you curiously.

“My phone died,” he replies sheepishly, a bit of light returning to his eyes as he comes closer to you. Warmth starts to spread through your chest when you see how the corners of his lips twitch up, fingers absently thrumming against his books. “Where are we going?” 

“You’re getting changed,” you reply, nodding to the suit hanging in the passenger seat of he car, “and then-”

“Yo, Dazai-kun!”

Your eye twitches at the interruption, gaze twisting to the side to fall on one of the boys from that group you’d been dreading walking over before Dazai arrived. You notice him stiffen, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face when he hears his name being called. So, you sigh, motion for him to go into the car and grab the suit as you turn your attention to the group of approaching college students.

“We’re busy,” you say with a tight smile, tone short and perfunctory but trying to be polite. 

Your eyes sweep over the one who spoke up—he’s dressed nice, slacks and a button up, tailored neatly to his body, but there’s something so distasteful about him that you can’t help the way your lip curls up in disgust. Maybe it’s because of the way Dazai looks so uncomfortable.

The man looks entirely unperturbed by your blatant dismissal, giving you a charming smile. “I’m Yoshimura Hiro—me and Daz-”

Irritated, you glance one last time at Dazai, seeing that he got the suit out of the car and shut the door. You lock the car and without another word, press your hand against Dazai’s lower back to urge him forward, walking away from the small group without another word.

Dazai can hardly muffle the snort that escapes his lips as soon as the two of you make it into the building. His eyes have regained that brightness that they’d lost when his classmates approached you, a smile curving at his lips.

“That was so rude,” he says with a grin.

“We have a reservation to make,” you tell him dryly. “I said we were busy.”

“Still, you didn’t even wait for him to finish introducing himself.”

“Would you have preferred I had?” you ask, glancing at him as he unlocks his apartment, watching as his smile falters as he shakes his head. “Why don’t you get along with them?”

Dazai shrugs but he seems a bit more awkward now as you step into his apartment. He tosses his books onto the coffee table and shrugs his backpack off onto the couch. You lean against the wall as you wait for him to respond, noting that his apartment is much cleaner than the last time you were here.

“They don’t like me,” he corrects absently, fiddling with a mug on his coffee table before bringing it over to the kitchen. “Most people don’t.”

There’s a silent question lingering at the end of the sentence—you know it, even if you couldn’t tell from the way the words hang, you can see it in the way his eyes draw over to you. Maybe he wants reassurance of some kind that you do like him, that you’re not just doing this because of the blackmail, but the words die on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you say, “Go get changed. We’re running late already.”

Dazai looks disappointed by your words—you can see it in the way his shoulders slump and his lashes lower, the corner of his lips tightening—but he lets out a dramatic sigh, muttering something under his breath before going into his bathroom to change.

Luckily, it only takes him a few minutes to get changed into the suit. He comes out as he’s still buttoning up the waistcoat—jacket slung over his shoulder. Your eyes drop down to his slim waist, eyes lingering at how neatly the vest clings to it.

Kido really did a good job, you think, having to drag your eyes back up to his face as he finally shrugs the jacket on and looks back up at you.

“You look nice,” you compliment, watching as his cheeks flush just a shade darker. “I didn’t have time to change after my meeting. If I’d known you were going to be ten minutes late, I would’ve.” 

Dazai promptly scowls at you. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have waited until the last second to tell me. What if I already had plans?” he complains, but then adds, “… I think you look beautiful.”

“I wear this outfit everyday,” you dismiss, ignoring the way your chest flutters.

“I know,” he admits quietly. “You look beautiful everyday.”

Oh.

“We should go!” Dazai says suddenly, a bit too loudly to be casual. “We’re running late, aren’t we?” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah,” you say. “Come on, let’s go.” 

The walk back to your car is quiet—the students you’d left there are gone, thank god. You can feel Dazai looking at you every few seconds as if he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. You have half a mind to just tell him to spit it out but you still find yourself a bit flustered so you just let it be until you’re in the car.

“Where are we going anyway?” Dazai finally asks as you pull out of the complex, twisting in the passenger seat to look at you. His eyes look almost golden beneath the rays of the sun, soft and excited, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers before you force yourself to focus on the road.

“You said you wanted to go to that restaurant by your campus, didn’t you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side to raise your eyebrows before looking forward again. “Taking you there.”

“The rooftop restaurant looking over the park?” Dazai splutters, eyes widening. “You remembered that? It’s so expensive, I-”

You don’t even acknowledge the last thing he was saying. Instead, you give him a squinty look before asking, “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Dazai’s lips part as he stares at you like he’s trying to say something but can’t bring himself to. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, it makes your heart twist in on itself. It’s too intense, too close to lo-

You don’t even let yourself finish that sentence, focusing back on the road as you change the subject. “They import crabs from the Beagle Channel in southern Argentina—best quality in the world, much better than that canned shit you eat every day.”

“What do you have against canned crab?” Dazai complains, leaning his head against the window. “You hate me. How did you even get a reservation at this place? They’re booked out like ten months in advance, we talked three days ago.”

You give Dazai a heavy side eye that he understands instantly from how he rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?” you ask, giving him a pointed smile.

“Nothing,” he scowls.

You smile to yourself, focusing on driving again. The restaurant isn’t far from his complex so you get there pretty quickly. Dazai is quiet for most of the rest of the ride aside from the occasional comment about his classes. He bitches about his engineering class and all of the irritating freshman boys that he’s taking it with because it’s a 101 class, tells you vaguely about how he’s on a roll for one of his projects for his poetry workshop, explains the plot of the book he’s reading for his creative writing class, and he notably does not mention anything about his journalism class—you don’t know if it’s because he’s too awkward to bring it up or what, but you’re grateful for it because the last thing you want to do is think about him working with Ui Koutarou to expose you as a mafia executive. You still don’t even entirely believe this isn’t some whole big scheme they concocted together.

You let the car roll to a stop in front of the tower the restaurant is in, leaving it running as you put it in park and nod for Dazai to get out. You get out yourself, grabbing the keys and tossing them over to the valet with a quick thanks before leading Dazai into the building.

He looks almost wonderstruck as he steps into the tower, brown eyes wide and glittering as he looks at all of the expensive decor in the lobby of the tower. You have to physically guide him forward, arm slipping around his waist to get him moving in the direction of the elevator, but as soon as you come in contact with him, he goes rigid. Your brows furrow, about to pull your arm back but before you can, he presses his palm against the back of your hand, holding your arm in place for a quick second. You can’t help the smile that twitches to your lips when his arm drops back to his side and you catch the pretty flush staining his cheeks as he pointedly looks away.

You lead him into the elevator, catching the pout that pushes at his lips when your arm leaves his waist and you’re going to tease him for it but then you catch the oddly intense look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, throat bobbing as if considering what to say. “It’s just… no one has ever done this for me before.”

“It’s just dinner, Dazai,” you tell him, voice quiet as you look away, missing the way his expression drops at your words.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though he sounds strained now so you give him a concerned look that he tries to play off with a smile that’s too frayed at the edges for comfort. You’re about to call him out on it but you don’t get the chance because the elevator doors slide open to the restaurant on the top floor before you can.

A familiar face stands on the other side of the elevator, delighted at the sight of you. “Hime,” the owner of the restaurant greets as you step out of the elevator with Dazai, reaching out to clasp one of your hands with both of his. “I almost didn’t believe it when they said you called to see if we could get you a table tonight. It’s been so long.”

“Ah, Yoshida-san, you’ll have to forgive me,” you say with an easy smile. “You know how busy work can get.”

“Of course, of course,” Yoshida replies, glancing at Dazai and inclining his head to him. “This must be your date. Come, I’ll seat the two of you.”

Dazai looks a bit out of his depth, the smile on his face strained and an unsure look in his eyes so you reach out to hook your arm into his, leading him through the restaurant as you make idle talk with Yoshida. You’re pleased when he brings you to a table near the window with a view over the whole park and the distant bay. 

Yoshida bows his head down to the two of you and lets you get settled, you take a seat but then give Dazai an odd look when he just stands there with a contemplative expression. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he suddenly moves to grab the chair opposite you.

He drags the chair from his side of the table all the way to yours. The legs scrape the floor so loudly that it draws the attention of all of the other patrons of the restaurant. You stare at him, lips parted in disbelief, but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return. He’s entirely unperturbed, plopping the chair down right next to yours and taking a seat in it. He rests his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand and watching you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” you tell him but there’s no heat to your words as the corners of your lips tug up.

“You love me anyway,” Dazai coos, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly before settling back on your eyes.

When a soft, pleased smile spreads across Dazai’s face as he leans in to nudge his shoulder against yours, you have to actively remind yourself that you’re only doing this because of the blackmail. 

Dazai is already lounging on your couch when you get up to your apartment. You don’t seem to notice him—you’re clearly unhappy about something, lips twisted down and brows furrowed as you talk to someone on your phone. It’s not until Dazai peeks his head up above the back of the couch to look at you do you finally catch sight of the movement, eyes flickering to the side to focus on him.

“Thanks, Tolstoy, I’ll let you know if I need him. I appreciate it,” you say before letting the phone drop from your ear and ending the call. 

For a horrifying second, your expression doesn’t change and all of those insecurities that he can’t push away—that you really are only doing this because of the video, that he’s forcing himself on you instead of giving you an excuse to actually be with him that goes above the fears that are haunting you. But then, you sigh and your shoulders slump. You toss your jacket onto the other couch before sitting with him on the one he’s sitting on, knees knocking against his.

“Hi,” Dazai says with a small smile, itching to shift closer to you but hardly refraining. “You’re late today.”

“You’re early,” you reply dryly but there’s a fond curl to the corners of your lips that makes Dazai feel nice and warm. “You know, I think you’ve been at my apartment more than yours the past week.”

Dazai’s smile becomes simpering. “Why would I stay in my small, dirty apartment when I could stay in your nice one?” he asks, watching as you roll yours. “Anyway, you love it when I’m here. Your apartment would be so lonely and boring without me.”

“It would be something alright,” you agree half-heartedly, leaning your head against the back of the couch and letting your eyes slide shut.

Dazai’s smile falters as soon as your gaze leaves him, an uncomfortable and unwelcome feeling spreading through his chest. Is he being too much? He has been spending a lot of time at your apartment but it’s because whenever he’s alone, his own thoughts threaten to consume him. They whisper too loudly about how you’d never be doing this without the blackmail, about how he’s so desperate to not be alone that he’d stoop to forcing you to hang out with him. They’re quieter when he’s here, even when you’re not, so he’s been spending as much time as possible in your apartment, doing his schoolwork and watching TV while he waits for you to come back.

“Long day?” Dazai finally asks to draw himself out of his own thoughts, watching as you look back over at him.

“Mhm,” you agree, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Lots of meetings. All with people I don’t like.”

You’ve become a bit more open over the past week—you still don’t tell him anything of importance, of course, but you’re at least not avoiding just about every topic that edges somewhat close to your ‘business’. He still feels like he doesn’t know you as well as he should and he hasn’t tried to push that anymore since the night you showed up at his apartment. He wants to try to push again but he’s just worried that he’s going to take it too far and he’ll mess it up.

He supposes he should at least try to feel it out though.

“Can I ask something?” he asks after a moment, almost wincing when you immediately cast him a suspicious look.

“The last time you asked me that, you were trying to figure out if I was in the Mafia,” you say doubtfully and Dazai’s throat goes dry as you lean back against the arm of the couch and extend your legs outward onto his lap. Hesitantly, he drops his hand onto your ankle, grip becoming more firm when you don’t instantly pull away.

“Well, we’ve already figured that out,” Dazai says with a sweet smile but then lets the smile drop as he adds more seriously, “I just want to get to know you better.”

You sigh, watching him carefully for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead,” you say. “Ask.”

“What’s your ability?”

Instantly, you sigh and look away. Dazai’s heart drops and his lips part to say something else but he doesn’t know what.

“I can’t, Dazai,” you finally tell him and Dazai tries not to be disappointed but he can’t help the way his lashes lower. “It’s not-you shouldn’t even know I have an ability. Only a handful of people know. It’s literally the most confidential secret in the-I can’t.”

“But I already know you have one,” Dazai presses, his tone coming across as far too close to a whine considering the look you give him. “What’s the harm in telling me what it is?” 

“Dazai,” you say, voice becoming more edged. “You don’t understand what people would do to get intel on my ability—I’m not going to-”

“I just want to know you,” Dazai interrupts, words drawn out and throat tight. “I just-I want to know you.”

You stare at him for a moment and Dazai’s grip on your ankle tightens, expression dropping. Just as he’s about to drawback and give up, you sigh and look away from him.

“I can mess around with people’s minds,” you finally tell him, voice quiet. Dazai’s eyes widen, head snapping toward you as he waits for you to continue. “I can… induce different types of mental and physical states in the brain and mind.”

“Like… Emma Frost?” Dazai asks, squinting. You give him an odd look so he amends, “Like mind control?” 

“No,” you answer. “I can’t… control minds. I can like… induce short term changes in emotions and sensations. I’m not directly manipulating them but putting them into a state and letting them work with it. They can either snap themselves out of it or make it stronger.”

“... I see,” Dazai says slowly. “So, you can make someone happy but if something makes them sad after, it’ll snap them out of it?”

“Pretty much,” you hum but there’s a weird look on your face that tells Dazai that maybe you’re not saying everything. “Some emotions are easier than others. Happiness is more… fragile, harder to sustain in a target. Fear is much more… a lot like a parasite—once you put it in someone’s head, almost everyone will start to spiral. It’s much harder to break out of.”

“The mindkiller,” Dazai notes, quoting one of his favorite books, a bit of morbid curiosity spiking, wanting to know how he would fare.

You give him an amused look. “Now, you’re quoting Dune? Quite the broad taste in media.”

“You’ve read Dune, too?” Dazai gapes. “You must be my soulmate.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Ridiculously cute,” Dazai counters immediately, smile twitching at his lips when he sees the fond expression on your face.

Then, naturally, he makes a mistake. 

“Can you use it on me?” Dazai asks, leaning forward a bit. When you give him a sharp, alarmed look, he quickly fumbles out, “Not like anything big. I just want to see what it’s like. Just something sma-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” you say loudly, making Dazai draw back, hand falling from your ankle to rest on the couch next to him. You pull your legs off of his lap and sit up straight, turning your body away from him. “Just no, Dazai. Don’t ask me that again.”

“I didn’t mean-” Dazai starts to apologize but he’s flustered, not having expected a response like that from you. He fucked up. Again. Just as he was making progress. Again. “I don’t-”

“I can’t turn off my ability,” you tell him quietly after a moment. “It’s… always going to some extent. Making people around me more at ease so they feel more comfortable talking to me. I don’t like using it to its full extent if I don’t have to, not on people I consider friends at least. I never know if people… I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.”

Oh.

Dazai shifts closer to you, there’s an unreadable expression on your face as you stare ahead. He hesitates for a second before reaching out and grabbing your hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I want you for you,” Dazai stresses. When you start to shake your head and look away, he repeats, “I do. I-”

“You wouldn’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice tight. “That’s the issue, you wouldn’t know.”

“I would know,” Dazai tells you, squeezing your hand. “I would know, I want you. I do.”

You don’t respond to him this time, staring ahead and Dazai doesn’t know what to do because you look sad. You look lost in your own thoughts, consumed by whatever is running through your head. It’s familiar—the same way he probably looks whenever he lets the parasites in his brain start eating away, sending him down a dangerous spiral.

He wants to draw you out of it. 

More than that, he wants to kiss you again. Desperately. 

He’s yearned for it since that night in his apartment, spent long nights alone and aching for your company when he thought you were abroad. For days, he could feel his lips tingling with the ghost of yours still brushing against them, could feel the weight of your body on his hips, grounding him when he thought he would finally be consumed by the emptiness that perpetually plagues him. He thinks maybe he can draw you out in the same way you always do for him. 

He wants to kiss you, and he’s about to lean in to do just that, breath catching in the back of his throat as his body becomes prickly with nerves.

You turn your head away before he can, rising to your feet and making your way to your bedroom, leaving him damningly alone in the living room of your apartment. 

He lets out a shaky breath, staring down at his lap, a cold and unsure feeling taking root in his chest.

Dazai has become a constant presence in your life. 

At first, it caused you nothing but stress—you constantly feared that him showing up to your apartment would lead to unwelcome eyes learning of his existence but he’s been very careful entering and leaving the building, and Klaus has been on top of the cameras. You think it’s been around a week and a half, maybe two weeks since Dazai first confronted you about everything and in that week and a half (maybe two weeks), you don’t think a single day has gone by without you coming home to find Dazai curled up on your couch or hunched over your kitchen table.

Today is no different.

Your head is pounding when you make it up to your apartment, you’d spent two hours arguing with Chuuya over how to approach the issue with Shimazaki-kai. The Sun and Steel are struggling against them in Tokyo and Mishima Michiko had come to Yokohama personally to request assistance from the Port Mafia in routing them from Shibuya-ku. You don’t want to send Chuuya there—it’s only a matter of time before the Guild shows up in Yokohama to try to take the weretiger and you’ll need Chuuya here when they do. You can’t risk sending him off now.

But Chuuya wants to go there now—says that it’s a bad look that the Port Mafia started this conflict and is now leaving the Sun and Steel to suffer the consequences. And he’s right, but the Guild is more pressing than the Shimazaki-kai.

 It’s not often that the two of you disagree on tactical decisions, but when you do, the disagreements are stressful and explosive. Both of you are bullheaded and both of you are convinced that your decision is the correct one—and Lippmann wasn’t here to force you guys to settle down so it just became more and more heated until you finally stormed off.

You pause when you enter your apartment and hear a choppy tune being played on the piano in your living room—something you vaguely recognize as the beginning of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude even with the many mistakes being made. Your stress and frustration slips away as you catch sight of Dazai sitting at the piano bench, so focused on the sheet music in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your arrival.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you quietly make your way over to him, watching as he pauses in the song and sighs, clearly frustrated by his mistakes. You take the opportunity to slide your hand across his shoulder blades; he jumps beneath your touch, eyes widening as he twists his neck to look up at you, cheeks flushing. 

“I didn’t know you played,” you say absently. “If you want, I can have the spare room on this floor made into a music room for you.”

You don’t know why you offer it, but you enjoy the look in his eyes as his gaze focuses on you: big and imploring, full of emotion. It’s a welcome change from the livid expression Chuuya had been casting your way for the past few hours.

“I don’t really,” Dazai says awkwardly. “I was just trying it out.”

“Well, do you like it?” you ask him, taking a seat on the bench next to him, fingers lingering on his lower back.

“I think so,” he tells you after a few moments, lashes fluttering as he looks down at the keys and then back up at you. “I think my mother used to play… I don’t really remember her, but I can vaguely remember a song she used to play.”

There’s an odd look in his eyes as he averts his gaze and you squeeze his side gently before saying, “Maybe the more you play, the more it’ll come back to you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees half-heartedly, looking at you again, more carefully this time. “Are you okay?” 

You pause, not having expected him to catch onto your bad mood so quickly when you were doing your best to hide it, but you finally sigh and shake your head.

“Yeah,” you tell him, motioning for him to get up so the two of you can move over to the much more comfortable couch. “Stressful day. I thought you had class on Wednesdays.”

“It was online today,” Dazai says, propping his arms up on the back of the couch as he sits up. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until super late tonight.”

You scoff. “Yeah, until I got into a fight with Chuuya,” you mutter, making your way over to him to sit on the couch with him, looking at the puzzle he has spread out on your coffee table. “Where’d you get this?” 

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “You left your computer open yesterday, I ordered some things.”

Dazai inches closer to you, there’s an indecipherable expression on his face, lips parted and eyes a bit wide. You can feel his knee nudging yours and you know what he wants. He’s been trying to make subtle moves on you for days but you just… You don’t know. You’re scared.

You’re scared.

You don’t think you’ve felt this way since you were a kid, trapped in that room in the military base on Tokoyami Island desperately trying to understand what your ability was so you wouldn’t be thrown back out into a warzone. Except now, it’s not just your fate on the line—every decision you make, Dazai’s life hinges on it and you’ve been making stupid ones for weeks. Even now, letting him stay at your apartment… Even if you do own all of the cameras, even if Klaus is on top of it, even if Dazai is being careful, it’s only a matter of time before a mistake is made.

You don’t know what you’re still holding out for. Maybe a chance to make him understand what exactly is at stake, break things off with you on his own… Maybe you’re waiting for something else. Your conversation with Tolstoy echoes through your head, his offer of sending Ilya Repin to you for you to utilize as you please.

Ilya Repin. A Crucession in Oakwood. 

Someone who can wipe Dazai’s memories of you so you can send him back off to live a normal life, make him forget he ever met you. It’s not something you want to do, fiddling with people’s minds… you know better than anyone that it’s not something to take lightly. But would it be worth it to ensure he lives? That he doesn’t get drawn any further into your shitshow life? The thought makes your chest ache painfully but if it means he would be safe.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away, and you can feel the disappointment emanating off of him, you can feel his fingers brushing your arm, but before you can say anything to him, you hear your elevator bing.

Someone arriving at your floor.

Your eyes widen as you rise to your feet, you cast Dazai a panicked look. He follows after you, unsure of what he should do. Klaus is across the city—he’s the only one that can come up to your apartment without permission besides-

Besides Chuuya.

Oh shit.

“Go to the kitchen,” you say, voice tight and stressed, you push Dazai forward to get him moving. You cannot let Chuuya know that Dazai is here. “Get to the-”

“Yo.” You hear Chuuya say, voice low and distracted as he steps into your apartment. He’s looking down at a bottle of wine, so you wave your hand at Dazai frantically, shooing him into the kitchen. He shoots you a panicked look before rushing into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to let shit get so heated before.”

“You’re good,” you tell him, careful to keep the strain from your voice as Chuuya finally looks up from the bottle and makes his way over to you. “Takes two, I shouldn’t have been so quick to snap at you.”

“Nah.” Chuuya shakes his head, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been going through shit. The Boss constantly on your ass, having to drop that kid you liked-” shit “-I should’ve let it go instead of pressing. Brought you this.”

Oh, you’re in a bad spot. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as you race to figure out what to do. You have to get Chuuya out of your apartment, but the man knows you so well that it’ll be impossible to do that without raising suspicion. If this were any other day and Dazai Osamu wasn’t hiding in your kitchen, you would be trying to worm more than just a bottle of wine out of Chuuya—probably dinner and a night out to go along with it—but he’ll want to crack open the bottle before going out and your wine glasses are in your kitchen.

Shit.

“An ‘82 Rothschild,” you drawl. “You’re really trying to butter me up.”

Chuuya gives you a smile that makes you feel guilty. “‘Cause I feel like shit,” he mutters and you hardly refrain from wincing because you know he wouldn’t if he knew the truth.

You think you might be the worst person alive. 

“How about we put it in the wine fridge and head out for the night?” you hum, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t you want to try that new bar by the ports in Naka? The one Lippmann went to with his coworkers? We’ll save the wine for us to celebrate after we wipe out the Shimazaki-kai.” 

A good move. You almost pat yourself on the back for it—Chuuya’s been talking about this bar for weeks, but hasn’t gotten a break from work to actually go check it out. He was livid the other day when he found out Albatross and Iceman went without him. Plus, you implied that you’d give in a little on the argument you were having with him earlier; maybe you won’t send him to Tokyo to help the Sun and Steel but you could probably send Klaus or Akutagawa to ease Chuuya’s stress over the situation.

Please, please, please, please-

“Nah,” Chuuya says, shaking his head. “Maybe another night. I’ll go grab some glasses, find a movie?” 

Oh, fuck me.

“I’ll get them,” you say instead, too quickly from the way Chuuya is instantly casting a suspicious look in your direction so you pivot with: “I picked the last movie. It’s your turn.”

“You hate when I pick movies,” Chuuya says with a frown, studying you carefully before letting his eyes trail over to the kitchen. He’s thinking too hard, you realize, stressed, you need to make him stop before he figures out you don’t want him to go in there because once he realizes that, there’s no shot he won’t be rushing over there. “What’s really going on?” 

“Nothing,” you say easily. “I’m in the mood to trash one of your low budget horror movies.”

Chuuya instantly gives you an offended look and you think, for a moment, that you’ve succeeded. “Well, I’m not in the mood to hear you bitch halfway through the movie, so pick a damn movie.”

Chuuya rises to his feet, putting the bottle of wine down on the coffee table and you want to rip your hair out—why is he so fucking stubborn? You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him, teeth grinding together, and when Chuuya looks back at you, you know that he knows.

“What’s in the kitchen?” Chuuya asks, voice low.

“None of your business,” you reply, jaw tight. “Sit down and let me get the glasses.”’

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” Chuuya snaps and rips his wrist from your grasp and storms over to the kitchen. 

You race behind him, only able to watch as everything starts to crumble. You try to grab his wrist again but he slips out from your hold. For a scary second, you genuinely debate using your ability on him just to convince him to stop, to make him leave, but you disregard the thought as soon as it passes through your head, horrified with yourself.

“Chuuya, stop,” you say desperately, a last ditch attempt to make him stop, hoping that maybe when he hears how serious you are about this that he might reconsider, but it’s Chuuya, so of course he doesn’t.

You know it’s over when he freezes in the doorframe of your kitchen, staring into the room like he’s seen a ghost. Dreadfully, you come to stand at his side, looking over his shoulder to see what exactly he’s looking at, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Dazai sits on the floor, half hiding behind your counter but unable to fully because of his height; his legs are too long to fit behind the counter and his head is peeking above the marble, brown eyes wide as he looks between the two of you. He focuses his attention on Chuuya, who stares at him mutely in disbelief.

Dazai finally says, “Your hat is tackier in person.”

Oh my god.

Chuuya doesn’t even react to the snide comment which you think is testimony to how angry he really is. He drags his gaze from Dazai over to you and you can see the rage swimming in his eyes. You don’t know how to approach this—Chuuya is always unpredictable when he’s angry—so you think maybe you should wait for him to say something first, but that’s also risky because once he’s set off, he’s set off. 

“You lied to me,” Chuuya says, voice low. “I was sitting here feeling guilty and-”

“I didn’t lie to you,” you interrupt, shaking your head, but that only pisses Chuuya off more from the way he shoots a pointed look at Dazai. “I didn’t. I did cut him off, Chuuya. I-”

“He’s sitting on your kitchen floor,” Chuuya’s spits, voice raising as he works himself up. “You let me sit here feeling guilty about this when-”

Chuuya suddenly cuts himself off, eyes widening as he stares at you, and a pit forms in your stomach, realizing he must have just come to another conclusion. Distress begins to pile in your chest because you can’t figure out what to do, frustration because this wasn’t supposed to happen. You want to look over to Dazai but you know it will only serve to piss Chuuya off even more.

“‘Is that what she told you?’” Chuuya whispers Mori’s words from a few weeks ago. “Don’t even tell me that the war with the Inagawa-kai began because of him. You told me they attacked you.”

You grimace, turning your face away and Chuuya lets out a high and reedy laugh, eyes wild with disbelief. You can feel Dazai’s curious eyes on you and you just want to curl in on yourself.

“We went to war with two Yakuza syndicates because of him-”

“We went to war because of what happened with your-” you begin to say, angry at the hypocrisy.

“And she died anyway,” Chuuya shouts, a familiar, eerie red glow beginning to emanate from his hands as he starts to lose control of his ability in his anger. “You couldn’t save her then, what makes you think you can save him now?”

You draw back as if you’d been slapped—you think you might’ve been better off getting slapped than hearing Chuuya say that. You stare at him blankly, watching as he looks over at Dazai, but you can’t bring yourself to follow his gaze.

“It would be more merciful if I just killed him now,” Chuuya says coolly. “Spare him from-”

You only move when he takes a step forward, grabbing his wrist and pressing your forearm hard against his upper chest to shove him into your fridge. Chuuya doesn’t expect you to get physical so his eyes widen as his back hits the fridge, gaze darting back to focus on you. The familiar feeling of the Tainted Sorrow sweeps over your body, coating you in that destructive red glow. 

For a moment, neither of you move.

“We both know you won’t use your ability on me,” you finally say, keeping your voice low. “I’ll fuck up your brain so badly that you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for weeks if you take another step toward him.”

Chuuya doesn’t budge for a second, the tension in the room rising with each passing second. After a few minutes, he finally turns off his ability, taking in a deep breath as he shakes his head and looks away. You step back and Chuuya sighs as he leans against the fridge, forcing himself to look back at you.

“I did cut him off after we talked… ish,” you tell him and Chuuya gives you a flat look. “I did. I ran into him at the ports. One of the kyodai of the Inagawa-kai showed up, saw me with him. Klaus killed him. We had to act before they found out we drew first blood.”

“Oh my god,” Chuuya complains, pressing his hands to his eyes. “You-I had to use Corruption. The entire northern ward-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say tightly. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I-”

You let out a breath, glancing once at Dazai who’s watching you with an indecipherable expression and then ask Chuuya, “Can we go into the other room?”

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, an offended expression on his face, but you ignore him. “You’re talking about me-” he starts to protest but Chuuya gives him a sharp look that makes Dazai blanch even more, looking to you for support but you look away, missing the way his expression crumbles.

As soon as the two of you are in the other room, Chuuya gives you a hard look, waiting for you to continue.

“I cut him off after what happened at the port and I ran into him again at the event a few weeks ago,” you say quietly. “His professor for one of his classes is a journalist working for the Ivory Eagle, he has three kids—including Dazai—doing his dirty work trying to find proof of the Mori Corporation being a front for the Port Mafia.”

Chuuya stares at you. “What?” he asks blankly.

“Yeah, I know,” you grimace. “Dazai found the proof. He has a video of us from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

“You’re letting yourself be blackmailed by a college student?” Chuuya demands loudly. You give him a sharp look, but it’s too late, Dazai is already looking into the room with an indecipherable expression on his face, lashes lowering as his gaze falls to the ground. “You’re a fucking mafia executive, are you fucking with me right now?” 

Your eye twitches in frustration, casting one last look in Dazai’s direction, watching the way his brows furrow as he thinks up a storm in that head of his—nothing good, you’re sure, but you can’t do anything about it right now.

“I’m not going to kill him, Chuuya,” you hiss under your breath. “Would you have killed her if she found out?”

Chuuya lets out a heavy breath and looks away, not answering your question but that’s an answer in itself.

“Look,” you continue, glancing at where Dazai had been standing only to realize that he’d walked away. You sigh and lower your voice. “I’m working on something. I just… I need time to figure out how to go about it. I don’t want him in this life either, Chuuya. I’m not that selfish.”

Yes, you are, a distant part of you whispers. Otherwise, you would have handled this as soon as he came to your apartment that first day.

Chuuya shakes his head. “You need to be careful. You have him in our headquarters, in your apartment. Do you know how thin of a line you’re treading? The slightest slip up-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say, strained. “I know.”

“Figure it out quickly,” Chuuya murmurs. “I’ll do what I can in the meantime to keep the heat off of you. Just… quit fucking around.”

Chuuya gives you a steady look and you know that he knows that you’re using this as an excuse to indulge in Dazai when you shouldn’t be. You can hardly hold his gaze, lashes fluttering as you look down. He reaches out to squeeze your forearm and you turn your head away, trying to figure out what the fuck you’re going to say to Dazai.

“Yeah, I will.”

Dazai pretends like everything is fine.

He’s still sitting cross-legged on your bed when you finally come looking for him, hands in his lap and back straight. You lean against the doorframe, an uncharacteristically soft expression on your face as you look at him—Dazai hates it, because he knows that he’s not going to like whatever you’re about to bring up to him so he decides he needs to evade the conversation in whatever manner possible.

“Did that pipsqueak leave?” Dazai huffs, only finding a bit of consolation in the way your lips curl up into a smile at his insult.

“He did,” you agree, pushing off the doorframe to make your way over to him. Dazai swallows thickly when you take a seat in front of him on the bed. You lean back on your hands, head falling to the side as you observe him. “I didn’t think he was coming over today. We’d just gotten into an argument so things were already tense. I’m sorry that it blew up on you like that.”

Dazai doesn’t want to talk about this, so instead, he smiles and says, “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie?” 

Your brow furrows at the way he dismisses your comment—god, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He knows where it’s going to lead, he knows you’re only doing this because of the blackmail and he knew from day one that it wasn’t going to work forever but he’d hoped maybe he’d be able to woo you before then, make you want him for him, want him enough to decide he’s worth the risk. He should’ve known better—he really should have—but he’s not ready to let go just yet.

So, before you can bring it back up again, Dazai forces the smile on his face to come across a little more genuine as he tilts his head and hums, “I found a good horror movie. I’m stealing your pillow to hide behind while we watch.”

Please.

He knows you can see through the sweet smile and honeyed words but he begs you to just pretend you don’t one last time. After what feels like an eternity, you finally sigh, gaze dropping to your lap for a second before you look back up at him and say, “You’re not taking my pillow.”

Dazai doesn’t have to force a smile now, lighting up as he waves your pillow in the air and sings, “Too late!” before darting off the bed and into the other room.

“Dazai!” you call after him loudly and he tosses a smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the other room. He can hear you chasing after him and though his chest does feel a bit lighter, he can’t push away the cold, empty feeling that’s slowly starting to consume him.

[0097linersb]

DESPERADO

Pairings: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Idk tbh kind of drama kind of angsty probs smut

Summary: Sitting in an old Monte Carlo.

A/N: GUYS gUESS WHAT!! I wrote this when I was like 17, over 7 years ago lol but I found it on my old computer and I kind of like it for some reason???? BUT THIS IS SUCH A CLICHE OMG A MAFIA AU SHOWSTOPPING NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE!! Alsoo this will be really short, 3-4 chaps max

Chapter 1

You could feel all eyes on you, burning holes into your skin as you entered the Diner. The whole room suddenly went quiet as soon as you closed the glass door behind you – But that could also be an illusion caused by the loud thumping deep in your ears. 

You force yourself to walk to the farthest booth available, praying your wobbly legs would not fail you like you felt they would, trying to ignore the whispers from the workers; It was kind of indecorous, but you could understand it given the situation. A young woman, in her pretty pink uniform, carefully approached your table. She looked kind, even worried maybe. 

“Can I get you something?” She nervously asked and you felt thankful she did not ask you any personal questions. 

“A chocolate milkshake, please.” 

Your voice was trembling and barely there but the waitress excused herself as you went back to ripping a napkin into dozens of small pieces, unable to get your hands to stop fidgeting. You probably wouldn’t be able to hold anything down in your stomach but you just needed to try and get your mind to stop screaming for a few minutes. The sun was setting and the darkness taking over the sky made you even more anxious, letting you know they already had enough time to realize what was going on. Every car that passed outside made you nervously look up and slide even further down your seat like it would help you hide. You should have changed, you would attract less attention then - At the same time, it’s not like you had an option, really. 

You jumped when the waitress, Moira said her nametag, placed the brown drink in front of you. You felt like throwing up at the sight but slowly forced yourself to swallow the cold liquid, despite your body’s complaints. It was a small town, not far enough, news of your whereabouts wouldn’t take long to reach their ears. You had to go somewhere, soon. 

 You didn’t have enough money for a ticket out of state - You barely had enough money to pay for the milkshake you ordered. The car you had stollen didn’t have enough gas to take you anywhere and even if it did, you didn’t have the ability to drive it any farther than you had already struggled to do. You hands shaked as you cursed yourself for not thinking things through. 

You wondered about your mother; she was most likely crying. 

No, she was definitely crying. You would be too in her place. If the adrenaline wasn’t rushing through your body to keep you alert, you would probably be in tears right now. It was not like you to cry, but you could find an excuse for yourself considering you were facing a life or death (mainly death) situation. You just hoped they had enough consideration for you to give you a simple death, enough for your mom to be able to look at your lifeless body without screaming in panic - Something about knowing you were minutes away from a gun barrel pointed at your head brought out the cliché poet in you. 

“You should follow the road up north; it doesn’t have a pretty scenery but it’s by far the fastest way to get to the Interstate,” Moira’s conversation with a man three booths down from yours suddenly caught your attention, ears perking up. 

“Is there a hotel close by?” The owner of the deep voice asked. 

“There’s only one downtown, we don’t get many tourists around here. There are also some motels around two cities up.” 

“Perfect, thank you.” 

Your eyes widened when the stranger stood up, you didn’t have much time to think. You hurriedly went through your bag, trying to find some coins to leave in the table beside your half-finished drink before running out of the door as fast as you could, tripping more than once over your long dress as you crossed the parking lot after what seemed to be your last hope. 

“Wait!” You screamed at the man opening the door of his car. 

He stared at you in surprise and you tried to catch your breath, managing to let out a tangled “Take me with you.” 

“Excuse me?” His eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t look very pleased to be interrupted. 

“Please. I need to get out of state,” You pleaded. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t get caught in a runaway bride’s drama at the moment,” The stranger apologized with a dismissive nod of his head before resuming the motion to enter his car. 

“Wait. I have a car, an expensive one. You can have it!” 

“I already have a car, as you can see. Good luck, though.” 

“Please,” Your voice breaks as you beg, volume barely above a whisper. That man was all you had. “They are going to kill me.” 

The tall male in front of you examined you from bottom to top in silence and you felt yourself cowering under his tense jaw, which was ironic considering the people you were used to being around. It was when you felt tears starting to sting your eyes that the man took a deep annoyed breath and ended with a cold, “Get in.” 

“Thank you so much,” You finally let out all the air you were holding, hurrying to the passenger seat before he could change his mind. 

You were silent as the man started the car and drove out of the Diner’s parking lot, his harsh gaze showing you he didn’t want to be bothered. You closed your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing, repeating to yourself it was all going to be fine; they wouldn’t be able to catch you if you kept moving. When you felt your heart rate slowing down, you finally let your eyelids fly open, watching the white skirt of your dress (which was now black from dirt) in disgust. It was a beautiful dress, big and flamboyant, you were sure it cost a lot of money – You just wished you were someone who wanted to wear it. 

You realized you still had the veil positioned carefully on your hair, although it was probably crooked and ripped by now. You harshly untangled the pins from your strands and rolled the window down, throwing the white fabric out on the road before closing the glass again. The man next to you watched in amusement but still didn’t say a word. You wished you could sleep, something you haven’t done in weeks – But you didn’t think you would be able to for a while. Your quick naps out of exhaustion were getting you through the days. Barely. 

At least the sky was pretty, a dark purple with little shiny dots all over. The moon was nowhere to be found, maybe it was ashamed of you too. 

“Ugly fiancé?” The man’s voice surprised you. It was clear he was trying to humor you, but his expression didn’t match his tone. 

“I wish,” You sighed, leaning your head back in the seat and forcing your voice to work. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

“Jaehyun.” 

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun. Please don’t be a serial killer.” 

“It seems like that would be the least of your problems.” 

“I guess you’re right,” You smiled, but it did not reach your eyes. You took another deep breath before asking, “What are you running away from?” 

“Who says I’m running from something?” 

“Why would you ask what’s the fastest way out of town if you weren’t?” 

“Maybe I don’t like traffic.” 

“Traffic in this area? I’m desperate but I’m not stupid. Did you actually kill someone? I was only joking -” 

“My personal business concerns you as much as yours concerns me.” 

“I’m not frugal with my secrets.” 

“Entertain me then.” 

“It’s barely as fascinating as it seems: My family’s business had me entangled with some dangerous people who forced me into a commitment I was not interested in partaking in, none of the parties will be very happy with my little rebellious act.” 

“Are you really putting your life at risk just to not be part of society’s patriarchal plot?” 

“This is hardly about that, although I wouldn’t expect you to understand, as a man. Plus, my life would be at stake anyways; At least like this, I can worry from a distant beautiful beach, with a sweet cold drink in hand, instead of being fucked by a man who wouldn’t mind killing me one bit. I was thinking about Mexico.” 

“If they are anywhere as powerful as you describe, it would not be hard to find you there.” 

“Right. Maybe Brazil then, who knows?” You shrugged, knowing these were all insane dreams you were probably never going to be able to experience. It was fun to amuse yourself. “What about you, where are you going?” 

“Far.” 

“So mysterious,” You roll your eyes. “It’s not like I can afford going out babbling about your plans.” 

“I’d rather not give you the chance.” 

“Suit yourself. Thank you once again for the ride.” 

Jaehyun only nodded. 

As you watched the cities pass in silence, you noticed your throat was very dry, but you imagined you must be arriving at your destination if the man next to you was following Moira’s tips. It was already late and your whole body ached, the adrenaline’s effect fading bit by bit as you tried to fool yourself that you were safe. 

“Why are you helping me, knowing I’m involved with dangerous people?” You wondered. Truthfully, you knew it was a stupid question since you were the one begging for his help, you just wanted to hear him talk more, his deep voice made your vision stop spinning for a few seconds. 

“I can fight,” He shrugged. Again with the toneless jokes. 

“I don’t think fists would be very useful against the Kim family,” You chuckle at the absurdity, you probably had all local thugs looking for you as you spoke.  

Who would have thought this is how your life would turn out? 

“Who said I don’t have guns?” He smirked at you for the first time, and you just stared at him, an unreadable look on your face that made him slightly nervous. “Don’t act surprised, you’re the one who entered a stranger’s car.” 

“I’m not. I was about to marry Kim Doyoung, weapons don’t shock me,” You sigh, hiding the fact you had a handgun (which you had stolen from your fiancé's collection) in your purse - Maybe you would need it, Jaehyun could turn out to be, in fact, a serial killer after all. 

“Kim Doyoung, huh? You really got yourself in a big mess. His father isn’t someone to play with.” 

“Do you know him?” 

“I met him briefly for a business transaction a few years back.” 

“Your line of work just keeps sounding shadier and shadier, should I be worried?” 

“You tell me, you’re the mafia’s doll.” 

“You’re really thinking about handing me over and asking for a reward, aren’t you?” You squeezed your eyes at the man. 

“Maybe,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone but you knew he wasn’t being serious, as you were indeed, heading North. Regardless, growing up with your family taught you to never trust anyone. 

You caught yourself pitying your mother once again when Jaehyun slowed his car into a Motel’s parking lot with a simple “We’re here.” 

You languidly nodded and got out of the vehicle, stretching your sore limbs before staring at the man in front of you in expectation. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” He shook his head and opened the trunk of the car to get his luggage. “I’m booking myself a room and you can go on your merry way; it was nice meeting you.” 

“I have nowhere to go.” 

“Luckily for you, we are in the perfect place for you to spend the night.” 

“Do I look like I have any money?” You rolled your eyes. 

“Well, not my problem,” He shrugged, closing the trunk and making his way towards the building’s reception. “I’m sure you can find a gentleman that would be very happy to pay to spend the night with you.” 

“Can’t I just sleep with you?” You ignored his suggestion of prostitution, not judging it worthy of your attention. 

“And have the Kims knowing that not only did I help their pretty bride in her escape, but also shared a bed with her?” He quickly turned around so you could see how his chest rumbled with laughter before going back on his way. “Funny.” 

Why was he being so complicated? 

You quickly looked around to see if anyone could possibly be watching, but decided it was dark enough for your foolish just-thought-out plan. You were not really proud of what you did next but, in your excuse, you truly were desperate and the way your mind was all over the place didn’t help you make much sense of the situation. 

“Jaehyun,” You called, purse briefly discarded on the floor next to you. 

The man sighed and turned back once again, but he stopped laughing when he saw you – Jaehyun’s face flashed in shock for a single second before it morphed into an amused expression instead. Head cocked to the side; he surprised you as he leisurely started approaching your figure once again. 

“Oh, princess,” He lowly chuckled at your shaking grip on the gun’s handle. “If you’re going to point that at me, you better know how to use it.” 

“Take me wherever you’re going with you,” You demanded, ignoring his remark. You weren’t actually going to shoot him, you just wanted to, to… - this really wasn’t a well-thought-out plan. 

“I truly can’t, but I appreciate the passion,” He smiled, raising his hand to calmly aim the gun at the floor instead of at his chest. 

 You simply used the side of the weapon to slap his hand away before pointing it back where you wanted it, “Why not?” 

“I’m heading across the ocean.” 

“That sounds perfect, I’m sure you can manage to get me some fake documentation like you probably did for yourself.” 

“And what do I get out of it?” 

“My company. Also, I do know how to shoot.” 

“Do you really?” He raised an eyebrow at you, staring at you like you were the most entertaining thing he had ever seen in his whole life.  

It was unnerving. 

“Yes. I can help you with whatever dubious business you have, I’m a fast learner,” You inform, not really knowing what you were offering yourself for, but figuring anything would be better than being the mafia’s bitch. 

“C’mon,” He rolled his eyes, but let out a delighted chuckle anyways when he turned around. You knew he was making fun of you, but it didn’t matter, it got you what you wanted. “And put that thing away.” 

You hastily picked up your purse and shoved your gun back inside, running after Jaehyun to catch up to him. 

                              _______________________ 

You learned after a few days that Jaehyun wasn’t a man of many words. He also refused to share a bed with you, always asking whatever motel you passed by for a room with double beds, and if they didn’t have one, he would just sleep on the floor despite your complaints. It was frustrating that you still didn’t know what it was that he did to make money, and every time you asked, he simply said it was no job for women, which you knew was something he said just to annoy you. 

You could tell he didn’t put much faith in your offer to help him, but he still entertained you, letting you know he would give you a chance to participate when the day came. Honestly, if he wanted to drag you around the country for free, you weren’t going to complain. 

Jaehyun was incredibly annoying with all of his superiority sense. When he spoke, only back-handed remarks or teasing comments left his mouth, it was clear he didn’t take you seriously and it was slowly driving you insane – If he called you doll one more time, you wouldn’t think going back begging on your knees to Doyoung would be such a bad idea. 

 But, despite his whole attitude problem, Jaehyun was nice to you in silence: He lent you his clothes when you didn’t have any and took you to a store downtown to buy new ones when you passed through a city he has been to before, not complaining about having to pay for all of it. You remembered how he silently watched as you set your wedding dress on fire in the parking lot of the random motel you chose for the night, or how he took you to the movies after you tried to call your mother from a payphone and ended up sobbing for the first time in years. 

The man left you alone during most of the days, running whatever business he had in the different cities you visited. He sometimes came back with cuts and bruises and you cleaned him up with a harsh look on your face, but at the end of the day, you had no right judging him when he was the one bringing food and putting shelter over your head. He eventually taught you how to do the guns’ maintenance and at least now you had a role, getting the weapons tidy and ready for the next day. You wondered for how long he would accept carrying you around without asking for anything in return, he didn’t seem all that interested in bedding you and he knew you were as poor as one comes; Maybe he would just kill you. 

“Have you ever killed a man?” You had asked one day as you cleaned the inside of your gun’s barrel, on the little table at the corner of your rented room. 

The man had simply looked up from the newspaper he was reading on his bed and raised an eyebrow, “Have you?” 

“Can you ever answer anything I ask?” 

“Can you ever pay for your own stuff?” 

You dropped the subject after that. 

As cold as Jaehyun was, it was clear he was beginning to grow fond of you. At first, he had treated you like some sort of charity project to acquire his pass to heaven, but as time passed, he started unfolding layer by layer. One day he brought a wine bottle to celebrate something, he didn’t tell you what exactly, but he did tell you all about how his mother used to study French and he learned it just by hearing her practice. He also told you how they used to plan on moving to France when he was little, how he and his mother spent hours talking before going to bed about how their little house would be, him promising her he would help take care of the garden so they could have many beautiful flowers. Both of you sat on cheap wooden chairs in the motel’s parking lot, drinking the wine under the stars as if you lived inside poetry – Jaehyun started smiling after the fourth glass and you did believe life was art in that moment. 

“My family has some property in France, I’ll take you and your mother there one day to show you my gratitude,” You offered with an easy smile. 

The man turned his head to look at you, you could see his dimples but his eyes looked sad, “Your family´s really rich, huh?” 

“Old money.” 

“How are you adjusting to this new side of life, princess?” He joked, meaning all the cheap rooms and dirty bathrooms your life had become. 

“It has been… An experience,” You laughed lowly, like being loud would disrupt the universe above you. “I’d trade my old life for showering in a gas station’s sink any day.” 

Your quickly developing bond was made clear when one-night, Jaehyun got back to your shared room to find you trembling on the floor, hugging your legs as blood stained you all over. Jaehyun didn’t even look at the body next to you on the floor, he just silently picked you up and took you to the bathroom. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked after placing you on the toilet and turning the hot water on to fill the tub. 

You shook your head in denial, eyes lost on the floor. 

He didn’t ask you any questions that night, he simply undressed you and placed you on the warm water, softly rubbing all the blood from your skin and hair for hours. After emptying and refilling the tub for the third time so the water wouldn’t be red anymore, Jaehyun left you soaking and when you finally had the strength to get up and go back to your room, the sun was up and Jaehyun had already taken care of everything. You didn’t have it in you to ask what he had done with the body, but that day he drove for hours to get you out of there. You could see he was exhausted but with a tense jaw, he ignored as you cried for him to stop, only parking the next night when he felt you would be safe for the time being. 

 That night he did sleep with you, held your hair up while you threw up and forced you to eat whatever he managed to find in the reception. 

Eventually, the shock of playing God became bearable and Jaehyun started pestering you about your gun. You had tried leaving it behind on 4 different occasions but he had always picked it up and brought it with him, hiding it in your purse just in case you needed it. You just didn’t feel comfortable carrying it around anymore, the feeling of warm blood on the palm of your hands was not something to be taken lightly. 

“Now that we know for sure they’re after you and catching onto us, you should always have your gun,” He had lectured and you simply closed your eyes, not needing to be reminded. 

Some nights later, he got to the motel of choice to an empty room and completely panicked, heart almost jumping out of his throat as he saw the silent space until he eventually found the note you had left on the bedside table. 

Went into the woods, will be back late. 

He didn’t wait, immediately locking the door and rushing into the trees behind the motel. He felt like he walked for hours but it was probably what his nerves made it feel like, cold sweat running down his neck. When he did find you, all the screaming about irresponsibility he had prepared and the desire to tie you up somewhere so you would just behave, were forgotten at the sight in front of him. 

“You have a bad left eye; you should always aim a little bit more to the right.” 

You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice but followed the instructions. You had always been a good shooter, even before Doyoung - but Jaehyun was right, you did have a bad left eye. 

“The carnival is in town,” You had excitedly informed a busy Jaehyun on a Friday afternoon. “Saw it on the newspaper.” 

“Hm.” 

“Can we go?” 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“Do you perhaps enjoy having a target on your face?” He looked up at you from the bag he was organizing. 

“We’ve been running for weeks, there’s no way they know where we are. Please?” 

“Stop whining, you’re not a child and it’s not cute.” 

Later that day, he took you to the carnival. 

He was tense the whole night and only agreed to stay for an hour, but you managed to convince him to ride the Ferris Wheel and buy you some game tickets. You knew you would have to leave behind all the prizes once you had to skip town and hit the road again - You sure complained about that, earning an eye roll and silence in response, but a few days later you found the plushie elephant you had liked the most hidden in the trunk of Jaehyun’s car. 

You had lost track of the time a long time ago, days started losing their meaning to all the different rooms and cheap restaurants. Your location was a mystery that didn’t really intrigue you, but you figured you had probably already crossed around half of the country by the change of scenery. Jaehyun didn’t leave you every day, he once in a while stayed “home” and you were surprised to find yourself hoping for those moments when he would read his French books out loud from his bed and you would enjoy the sound of his voice as you stared at him – But pretended to be sleeping every time he looked up. 

On days he did have to leave though, he didn’t always wake up paranoid. Occasionally, he gave you some money to go explore whatever town you were staying in for the next day or two. You always returned with a little trinket you thought he would like, and he always scolded you for spending money on useless things, but you were way past the point of feeling like a child under his gaze anymore – You just had to learn how to hide the smile on your face when you caught him wearing one of the things you had “gifted” him.  

You imagined he was happy at not being bothered by your constant whining over being left alone and bored every day. 

“You know what I miss the most?” You lightly kicked some water at the man sunbathing next to you, ignoring his annoyed groan. “From being rich, I mean.” 

“Having servants who were obliged to put up with you?” 

“The Balls. They were quite boring at first, but at the end of the night when most guests had already left, the band always started playing better music for me and I had so much fun dancing,” You smiled fondly at the memory, eyes lost deep into the pool. “Doyoung was an excellent lead.” 

“Did you love him?” 

“Sometimes,” You shrugged. “He was a gentleman, but at the end of the day we had many fundamental differences.” 

“Like torturing people.” 

“Like torturing people,” You nodded. “He tried teaching me how to drive, you know how a woman driving is viewed by society.” 

“What a good man,” Jaehyun rolled his eyes sarcastically. 

“Never said he was. But he treated me well, besides the whole trying to make me his property thing.” 

“Do you think there is such a thing as being morally grey?” 

“You, caring for my opinion?” You raised an eyebrow at him, even though he couldn’t see it behind the funky sunglasses you had bought the day before. 

“You’re the only person I have to talk to,” He shrugs. “Entertain me.” 

“Your luck. But I guess I do, yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, I’m not sure. I used to think people were either good or bad, but now I see that as with most situations in life, there is no such thing that is completely black or white. Look at yourself, for instance.” 

“And what do you mean by that?” 

“Exactly what I said, I still have no idea what you do with your life, but I’ve gathered enough to know it’s not accounting. But you’re nice to me. Also – At the end of the day, I did abandon my fiancé at the altar and killed a man, but I don’t feel like I’m a bad person. I think.” 

“You’re wearing heart-shaped pink glasses, you don’t have much to worry about,” He smiled at you, his eyes squinting - You hadn’t noticed they did that (It’s not like Jaehyun smiled much). 

“Is this the face of a killer?” You joked, pressing your palm to your cheek. 

“You kill one man and start acting like you’re going to dethrone the Kims,” He rolls his eyes amusedly and you laugh. “Want some lessons on torture next, princess?” 

“As if you could teach me,” You provoke, trying to get him to finally tell you about his line of work. 

“You’ll need to be smarter than that,” He winks at you and you huff in disappointment. 

You stared at him quietly for a while, he looked relaxed for once, even happy if that wouldn’t be pushing it too hard.  

Jaehyun was lying down next to the pool, one arm behind his head and his eyes closed. The golden light of the soon-to-set sun hit his skin and made it look like honey and his ashy bangs messily hit his eyelids. For once in your life, you felt your heart warm, like if you could spend the rest of your years staring at Jaehyun looking this peaceful, you would. He just felt familiar, like home – It was you and him alone against the world. 

“We need to cut your hair,” You smile fondly, reaching your arm out to move his strands away from his face. 

……………………………………………………………. 

Even though on most days you felt your heart burst in joy at the jiggling sound of the door handle when Jaehyun got home, you often found your heart feeling the same at the angry bang of the door behind his leaving form after a fight. You sometimes felt guilty over screaming at the man who was most literally keeping you alive and giving you everything in exchange of nothing, but he was just so simply infuriating and his patronizing little “princess” and “doll” remarks didn’t always sit well with you, especially after a restless night filled with anxiety and worrying that one of the Kims' men could just burst into your room and stab you to death.   

Jaehyun was not a soft man, he had no problem with throwing things in your face or making comments that could almost literally pierce you when he was angry, but thankfully, after everything that you had to go through and almost being sold to strangers, neither were you. If the Kims didn’t get to you first, you were sure the two of you would kill each other one day, there was only so much of hearing about how you were a spoiled brat with absolutely nothing in life that you could take. 

One of these days, Jaehyun came back way after midnight, thankful you were already asleep because he could still feel the fire in his veins ready to burn you if you gave him the chance. He was already stressed enough with work businesses; he didn’t need you to throw him over the edge with your sarcastic comments.  

Jaehyun quietly took a shower and got on his bed, throwing the covers around in annoyance until he heard you sniffing. His whole body tensed, alert. 

“Y/N?” 

Silence. 

You tried to be quiet, not wanting to deal with Jaehyun in that moment but wanting him to hold you at the same time. It was the fourth time that week that you had woken up desperate after horrible dreams, ranging from your maid being tortured to Jaehyun never coming back home. That night, you had dreamed about your mom begging you to come back or else the Kims would kill her, she looked bloody and puffy from crying, bruises and scratches all over her body as she sobbed and screamed in pure panic at the sight of her torturer. 

“I need to go back,” You whispered after a while, eyes glued to the ceiling. 

Next chap soon

[callieselvisobsessed]

Keep loving on me honey

4K Words (whoops!) Pairing: 60'sElvis! x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smutttty smut, p in v, fingering, use of Daddy, reader is insecure about her body slightly, creampie, The Colonel is mentioned (ew). Swearing, Obviously 18+ so minors DNI thankyouuu, if I've forgot anything please let me know!

So this is my first ff, lemme know what you guys think and if I should do another one or not lmao. Enjoy!

This’d been the first time in a long time that you felt… off. Something clearly wasn’t right, every outfit you had tried on did not hug your curves the way clothes used to. As you stood at your full length mirror in yours and Elvis’s bedroom at Graceland, this uncomfortable feeling clearly was not going to disappear. You weren’t about to let it ruin your time though, Elvis had invited the Memphis Mafia and their wives for a barbeque and pool party, so you wanted to look your best. You had decided on a brown sun dress, the material was comfortable, light and made the off feeling subside slightly. The dress had just enough of your breasts showing that you wouldn’t stand out too much.  Youd stand out to Elvis though, you always did. Regardless of the outfit or lack thereof. He loved you hopelessly, endlessly, with his whole beautiful soul. You knew what you meant to him and how much he meant to you. It was these occasions of quality family time that you got to see the side of him a select few got to see.  You wanted to make the time you had together special, as he was in Vegas performing at the International Hotel most days. You loved seeing him on the stage, giving every audience an almost ethereal experience, a once in a lifetime show. To see his passion and love for the music and the performance vibrate through his entire body made you love him more than words could ever describe. It also made you feel a lust no other man could ever make you feel. Those gyrating hips, his sweaty chest, the noises of pleasure he’s make, knowing you were watching, knowing just how to tease you…

You found yourself getting carried away in the mirror and running your hands across your cleavage, across the soft skin peeking above your dress and down your waist. Your skin began to feel all too hot at just the mere thought of your perfect partner, your imagination would carry you away most of the time. With him being away so often as he was, you’d miss him dearly in the day and crave him desperately in the night. The way you’d make love to each other consumed your being; the tender but intense way he’d grab your wrists and pin them above your head, his hitch in breath when he’d enter you from behind, his praises and moans of “that’s it baby”, “such a good lil girl for me”, “o-oh come on honey.. cum for me..”…

“Y/N?”

Your daydreaming was interrupted as Elvis opened the door and began to walk towards you. “Ya’ almost ready honey? People should be here soon.” You turned around and smiled at your lover. He was wearing black shorts and a red shirt, you always loved red on him. Any colour will look astonishing when you’re that handsome. “Nearly baby, just deciding on my outfit. Whatchu’ think?” you did a small twirl and showed the dress to him fully. You still had your doubts, but Elvis always knew what to say to make you feel sexy. He chuckled softly at your twirl and said “mmm well aren’t you a pretty lil thing? Cmere honey, twirl for me again..” He grabbed your hand and span you slowly around, causing you to giggle while he watched you, looking you up and down and biting his lower lip. He pulled you closer to him, sighed and wrapped his arms around your curvy hips. “I love this dress on you Y/N.. lookin’ all dolled up just for me… ” With a squeeze of your ass, Elvis leaned down and kissed you quickly, teasingly. Continuing to knead, he slowly kissed down your exposed neck and collarbone, grazing his hot tongue against you. “so I should wear this one then?” You sighed and moaned softly. Knowing you didn’t want him to stop, he moved further down and began to kiss and nibble at the top of your breasts, licking and sucking at your skin until he made a soft “hmmm” sound, clearly enjoying what you were doing to him with your body. To your surprise and frustration, he stopped, let go of your body and took a step back, smiling. That smile was too smug for your liking, why did he have to tease you like this? He knew just what to do to get you riled up and part of you hated that. “hmphh Elvis…” you whined, knowing how needy you sounded but didn’t care. “What honey?..” he matched your whiny tone, fake pouting. You were not in the mood to be teased today. If he wanted to play this game, then you were all for it. You span back around to the mirror and readjusted your dress and smoothed it down. “I’ll be ready soon baby, not if you keep distracting me though.” You faked a careless demeanour, but the ache between your legs was almost unbearable now. He added fuel to the fire and he knew it. You saw him smile lovingly at you in the mirror. “mhm, well don’t let me get in ya’ way now..”. He stepped towards you again and put his hand on your shoulder, kissing the back of your hair. He closed his eyes and you could feel him breathe you in. You wanted to melt into his touch but needed to finish getting ready. “I’ll meet you downstairs Mr Presley”. With a very soft push of your hips back against his, he let go. “Yes ma’am”. With a playful smack of your ass, he rushed to exit the room with you chasing him to the door, both laughing like children. You loved that no matter what, Elvis and you always had fun. That’s all you could ask for, with your past being the way it was. Elvis lifted your spirits and brought joy to your life again. You’ll always thank him for that.

After a few touch ups, you headed downstairs just as everyone started arriving. You walked through to the kitchen as Elvis did the usual sweep of hugs and handshakes, laughing and joking with his friends that were like brothers to him. You smiled and greeted everyone and you all migrated to the garden as one of Elvis’s staff brought out the lemonade and meats to be cooked. You helped them set up as all the wives grabbed their drinks and sat beside the pool, leaving the men to do their thing for a while (which involved play fighting and playing War.) You had become close with Jennifer, Charlie’s wife. It was a good, welcoming feeling to be friends with Elvis’s friends. She handed you your drink and you sat down with her with everyone else. “So Y/N, how’s things? Has he popped the question yet?” She winked at you and smiled. You chuckled heartily and replied “Not yet. I think E and I aren’t there yet, but if he were to ask I definitely wouldn’t say no.” “Well he better not wait too long sweetie, can’t let someone as good as you slip away!” She grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly. You hadn’t given much thought to the idea of married life with Elvis, you were content with how things were now. Jenny did make a good point however, you’d been with Elvis for almost two years. You started to overthink why he hadn’t asked yet, questioning his intentions. You brushed it off and tried not to think about it. You knew he loved you so much, was there something in the way? His busy schedule? The Colonel? Another woman? Other women?

You sipped your lemonade and pushed those thoughts out of your mind. Dwelling on it will spoil things between you, you wanted to be happy with Elvis and live in the moment.

A few hours had passed, everyone either being in the pool or lounging next to it. You happily listened to the neighbouring conversations, eventually getting up to grab a burger. As you put the food on your plate, you realised you had accidentally spilt some sauce on the front of your dress. “a-h fuck” you murmured to yourself as you used your napkin to wipe it off. You turned back to walk towards the group of women and saw some of them looking at you and snickering. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered you, in your mind being a curvier girl always meant being the butt of some others joke, you had ignored it in the past and even embraced it. Unfortunately today, it struck a nerve. You walked up to Jenny and whispered “I’m just going to change my dress, I’ll be down soon okay?” “alright hun” she replied and you set down your plate and glass, walking back into the house and going up the stairs. Elvis’s attention had been caught by you walking back inside, he was no longer listening to whatever Joe was saying to him.

You walked into the bedroom and stripped off, throwing the dress on the floor and slumping down onto the bed with your head in your hands. You had already felt emotional all day, this did not help. You sighed and led back, letting your head hit the mattress and looked up at the mirror on the ceiling. Being in just your bra and panties, you stared at yourself. You had built up so much self-love and confidence over the years, why did today feel like a step backwards?

“Honey?” Elvis. You looked forwards and saw him leaning against the door frame with a towel around his neck, in just his shorts. He looked divine, glowing with purely authentic masculinity.  “whatcha doin’ up here?” He walked towards you and knelt down, putting his forearms on your thighs and leaning his head up at you. It baffled you how a man could exude such boyish charm and sexual energy all at the same time. You sat up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I came up to change my outfit, I got something on it..” You paused before you spoke again. “ I just needed to clear my head.. that’s all.” You led back down and closed your eyes. You wanted to just stay in this bed and sleep away your feelings. Elvis began stroking your thigh carefully, giving you all the comfort you needed. “That’s okay Y/N, take as long as you need. It’s just you n’ me.” The pent up tension you carried began to slip away the further up your thigh he smoothed. You started to wriggle your hips slightly at that oh so good feeling of Elvis touching you, you wanted more, so much more.

“Mmm E… you feel good..” you moaned quietly, barely a whisper. You spread your legs ever so slightly, almost attuned to his touch. This was music to Elvis’s ears and he loved to please you, god how he loved to please you. “ahh is this what you needed honey? For daddy to love on you like this?” His breath against your inner thigh and his words made you vibrate with pleasure and you felt yourself becoming wetter by the second. “I- oh.. Yes Elvis..” His touch travelled even further up your leg until he ran his fingers ever so slightly across your clothed pussy, making you whimper. You had given in to the feeling and wanted, needed Elvis to fuck you. “Ya been such a needy girl today, let daddy take care of you.” That word. He knew this was driving you crazy and the teasing was getting to you. He moved your panties to the side and revealed your slick, throbbing opening, making his mouth water and cock twitch in his shorts. You glanced down and saw him reach into his shorts and begin tugging at his cock slowly, loving the way you were nice and wet for him, plump and aching to be fucked. He used his index and middle fingers to spread your lips and rub your swollen clit gently. “Elvis pleaseee..” “please what honey? You’ll hafta use your words..” This incredible man… the teasing… it was all too much now. You sat upright abruptly and grabbed his hand in a huff. You looked into his blue crystal eyes shining up at you and you saw his lips twitch up into that smug smile again. You had had enough. “Elvis Aaron Presley, I want you to fuck me. Hard.” And with that, he grabbed your panties and ripped them down your legs, discarding them onto the bedroom floor somewhere. He pushed you down onto your back and rolled you over onto your front, undoing your bra and throwing it across the room and bringing your knees up onto the bed spreading your legs in the process. Your ass was flush against his crotch and you felt him grind against you, causing a guttural moan to escape his beautiful lips.. The noise escaping you was a high pitched squeal, utter surprise. You had obviously had sex with Elvis before, multiple times. This was the first time he showed his more dominant side compared to the tenderness he’d normally give you. This is what you needed, you knew you were in for a ride tonight.

You were completely exposed to him, at his mercy. He pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them, chucking them with your panties somewhere. You felt him bend over you and take your earlobe in his lips, sucking lightly and running his tongue just below your ear and down your neck, breathing heavily and letting light moans escape him. “Ya want me to fuck you hard huh- mm-? Use you like the bad lil girl you are?” He accentuated his words with a snap of his hips against yours, so rough and so right. You began to feel so desperate that you rubbed your ass against his cock, up and down, feeling your wetness slide onto the inside of his thigh. “Please daddy. God- fuckk- please.. I need you Elvis..” He straightened up and run his hand along your ass, giving you a hard smack and rubbing the soft skin afterwards. The pain mixed with the pleasure was enough to make you cum already, he hadn’t even fully started yet. After a couple more smacks, he aligned his cock to your hole, not before teasing you just that extra bit. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slick, from your clit all the way up to your other sensitive hole. The sensation felt so fucking good, you moaned loud and long. “That’s it baby, moan louder f’ me. Let everyone downstairs know how good daddy fucks ya’”. God this was too good and too much, your whining and moaning sounding throaty and eager, you needed some sort of tension release. You reached down and rubbed your clit slightly, making the ache in your pussy bearable. You knew Elvis would love to watch you do this, giving him a show and rolling your hips, enticing him further. “o-oh god Y/N.. daddys gonna fuck ya’ nice and good now honey..” As he spoke those words, he thrust his cock so deep inside you and grabbed your hips flush to his, both crying out in pleasure in unison. He stilled for a moment for you to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching out just how you liked. You continued to rub your clit slowly, moaning Elvis’s name like a prayer.

After what felt like forever, Elvis pulled back and out and slammed his cock back in, so hard and desperate for you. You could feel the intenseness of his thrusts through your whole body, making your breasts bounce. He kept his grip on your hips as began to plough into you from behind, the obscene clapping sound mixed with yours and Elvis’s moans and whimpers filling the air. You felt his heavy balls slap against your thigh and you just about lost it. You rubbed your clit so quickly that the room started to spin and fill with the scent of sex. “E-E-Elvis.. Daddyyy.. Oh fuckkk..” You were so close, Elvis felt you throb and tighten around him. “Come on baby, cum f’ me. Cum all over this cock.. uh-h mm..” You reached your peak and came for him, your moans so loud it was guaranteed the guests would have heard you. His pace did not stop, he continued to fuck you hard. The squelching sound of his cock going in and out of you made you smile, you were made just for him. “Y/N.. I need t’ see that pretty face..” he pulled out and flipped you onto your back, pulling your calves onto his shoulders and entering you again. His face was so angelic in this moment, his skin glowy and hot with sweat, his brows furrowed and lips open. You pulled him down to you and kissed him needily, all tongue and lips mushing together. He pulled back and looked down into your eyes moaning “yeah baby, that’s it.. mm-hm look at daddy as he puts in inside ya..”. You began to rub and flick your clit again, needing to cum for Elvis once more. This drove him wild, he entered you again and the volume of his moans got louder and louder. A continuous string of “uh uh u-h” sounds fell from his talented lips, the sound was enough to make you cum again. He pounded your pussy even harder now, letting go of whatever tension he was carrying, giving you every part of him entirely. You were almost at your peak again and Elvis knew, so he reached down and started to play with your nipples, rolling them in his slender fingers and tugging gently. “o-hh Elvis ahh FUCKKK!” You grounding your hips down onto his cock, matching his thrusts. The way you were fucking each other was almost primal, animalistic. You both had discovered a new side of each other, revealing more to love of one another. Elvis couldn’t take it anymore and needed his tongue on something. He leaned down and put your right nipple in his mouth and suckled, flicking his tongue against you and nibbling softly. With Elvis hitting your g spot over and over again, this pushed you over the edge. You let it all go and came harder than you had ever came in your life, squirting juices all over Elvis’s cock and his thighs and all on the bedsheets.

Elvis’s rhythm started to become uneven and you knew he was getting close. You started to throb around him and milked his cock for all he had, looking up into the ceiling mirror and being in awe of the view above you. “Cum inside m-e Elvis, mm-mmhm-uh pleaseee!” As he heard you say this, he moaned against your nipple sending a shockwave of pleasure through your chest. He released your nipple from his lips and moved upwards to kiss you, running his hands through your hair and grabbing hold softly, mixing the dominance and tenderness perfectly like only he knew how. He pulled away and moaned “Wan’ me t’ fill you up huh baby? Make you a mama? Oh-h Lord have mercy.. I love you Y/N, oooh God I love ya so much honey, gonna cum in this lil’ pussy now, make you all mine.. oh uh o-h FUCK Y/N!” you felt him splutter and cum inside you, coating your walls with his thick hot cum. He collapsed on top of you and you both led there for a little while, heavy breathing and coming down from the highs you gave each other. “that was.. wow Y/N..”. He chuckled and you felt him go soft inside you, pulling out slowly. You both gasped as he fully disconnected from you, now feeling less full up. His cum began to spill out of your hole and in true Elvis fashion, his smile lit up and he reached down teasing your hole with his fingers. “awh now we cant have that now can we honey? I said I’d make you a mama…” so he pushed his fingers inside of you, keeping his load from spilling any further out. This made you moan loudly again, God this man. “Elvis… I love you.” “I love you too Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled his fingers out after a minute or two and you both relaxed in the comfortable silence, cuddling into each other. Eventually Elvis got up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth and a glass of water. He handed the water to you and you thanked him as he wiped your stomach and thighs of your juices. “my messy girl” a small blush creeped over his cheeks as he cleaned his front as well. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up gently, leading you to the bed and pulling the covers back. You both led down against the pillows and Elvis wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead and enveloping you in his embrace. “should we go back down?” “nah, they can leave if they want. I need my baby next to me.”

Elvis hummed a song to you quietly, almost like a lullaby. You closed your eyes and listened to your boyfriend and wondered how you could ever love someone so much, more than life itself. “Elvis?” “Yes honey?” You wanted to word this a certain way, not to confuse or frighten him. What Jenny said was still on your mind and you needed to talk to Elvis about it, despite it scaring you to your core. “W-where do you see us going?” You felt Elvis shift position to look at you. “whatchu mean Y/N like.. with us?” thank the heavens you didn’t have to explain. “Yeah exactly..” “well…” he began; “you know I love you an’ I know you love me. You make every day brighter, I go crazy when I’m not with ya’. We’ve lived together here for 4 months 2 months and 1 day exactly.. hmm..” He paused to scratch his very slight stubble on his chin. “… The next step is marriage. Is that something you would want honey? to be my wife?” Was he asking for your hand in marriage now? You sat up and stared at him. You needed to check if this was really what he was saying. “Definitely E, I want to marry you and be your wife but… maybe we should wait a lil longer. When your filming is done, when The Colonel lets you have some time off..” You scolded that man in your head, he made you feel physically ill. The way he treated Elvis made you angry and you didn’t like to dwell on it too much. “When the timing is right, i want you to be my husband. My Elvis.” You led down on his chest and placed your hand above his heart, feeling the soft thump of his steady beat. “I agree baby, I really do.. youll make the perfect lil wife someday. Pretty sure you’ll be carryin’ my baby soon enough too..” You felt his hand slide down to your side and begin to tickle you. You tried to pull away but his grip on your side prevented you from moving, so you laughed and squealed as tears formed in your eyes. You tickled him back along his side, giving him no choice but to release you. You quickly straddled his lap and pinned his arms above his head, catching your breathe. He stared up at you like you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen, the most musically sound song he’d ever heard, the epitome of perfection on top of him. He was yours, every part of him. “I really do love you Y/N, I wanna spend the rest of my life being yours, an’ you mine”. You kissed him gently, replying with your lips on his. No matter who or what affected your mind, you knew Elvis was yours and would be there for you till you both moved onto the next life together. There was truly nowhere you’d rather be in this moment. By your lover, best friend, future husband.