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dnvrsmedia · 3 days ago

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Worth the Fight

Sevika x reader

a/n: no descriptive terms used for reader!

warnings: slight arcane act 2 spoilers READ AT YOUR OWN DIGRESSION, hurt/comfort, domestic!sev, isha & jinx mention!

word count: 2581

Adrenaline thumps with a high pressure through Sevika’s veins. She can feel her heart pumping so hard she wonders how it doesn’t burst through her chest. This is not what she expected when Jinx agreed to breaking into Stillwater. The place isn’t necessarily the most welcoming (even though she is very familiar with the prison) yet, a ten-foot-something killing beast was not on her bingo card. At this point she wonders why she has any expectations when Jinx is involved.

These past few weeks, Sevika has wondered if this is what will finally kill her. If all she ever has been good for has been a soldier. First under Vander, then under Silco, and now? She tries to keep hope, but all she can feel is despair. The dark and looming feeling felt thick in her throat like the gray. Decaying her insides until she asphyxiates on its rot. That is until she comes home to you. All of her doubt leaves her body once she steps foot into your shared space. The smell of your body wash mixed with the candles you always have lit immediately relaxes her. Her shoulders no longer feel like it's holding the weight of Zaun once she’s home. Meeting you has single handedly given her a new wind beneath her wings.

Throughout her time fighting for independence, she quickly realized just how insignificant her life is, or at least that’s what she’s been told. She is always putting her life on the line for the greater good. She stopped fighting so that she could live the life she thinks everyone else deserves. Hell, she doesn’t believe she deserves half of what she is fighting for. Sevika knows she has done some unsavory things in her past. Things she won’t ever forgive herself for doing. Gods, Janna knows she’s been nothing close to a saint. There are things she’s done that haunt her in her dreams, and she thought she has come to terms with this fact. The fact that not all is good in love and war. Not all of the horrors she's experienced and been on the other side of producing were necessary.

She never saw a life for herself post Zaun independence. Ever since she joined the fight, she's only seen herself dying alone in one of three places: in a fight, in the brothel, and at the end of a bottle. So she drank and smoked and gambled and fought her life away, because it's the least she could do. She fights so that the next generation doesn't need to skirmish with each other in the lanes. She fights so that not another kid gets orphaned by the mines or the chembarrons, or shit, even shimmer, but fighting for her own life never even crossed her mind. Who could blame her if that is all she’s known? Her deadbeat father didn’t teach her the value of her worth, that's for sure. So, why would she bat an eye at her reckless lifestyle? Unexpectedly, that all changed. She didn’t see herself as valuable until you came into her life. You and your unabashed love for her. You and the light you bring to every room you step in. You and your confidence in Sevika to come back home to you. If Sevika is one thing she is loyal, and fiercely loyal she is to you. So when her priorities lied loyal to you, she was forced to come to terms she never even dreamed of having. The sole idea of growing old and having a love like in the fairytales made her feel like a young girl again. Yet, this led to turmoil within her head. She now has to break down all of the things she’s barred herself from receiving, all of the chances at a semi-normal life. She now has to realize just how much she does want to live, and that is where her true fears lie.

Sevika didn’t start consciously fighting until you opened her eyes to what love is. She couldn;t deal with the heartbreak she brought you when she came home two weeks late after the blast. She will never forget the sobs of relief you made when she hobbled into your shared space, the horror in your eyes when you noticed her arm missing. No matter how frustrated and full of emotions you were, you never yelled. This is when Sevika knew you were it for her. Many times in her younger years did she disregard the advancements of genuine connections from others. She would meet someone, enjoy their company for a few weeks and then essentially ghost them. Only to return weeks if not months later looking for some fun. This never bode well with her flings; leaving constant screaming matches in her wake left her ears ringing with a headache. So when she essentially did the same to you (under different circumstances) Seviks assumed the same would be with you. Yet, to her surprise you stayed. She never understood how a gentle love found her. She spends her restless nights looking at the silhouette of your face, wondering how and why you chose her. Her whole life has been filled with loss and pain, gentleness is not something she has ever experienced.

“Sevika, take her and go!” Jinx cries as she tosses Isha’s small and frail body into Sevika’s muscular one.

Her eyebrows knit together as her body moves before her brain thinks. She must’ve frozen at the sight of the large beast slaughtering several Enforcers. With no second thought, her body is sprinting as fast as she can. The young girl in her arm (that she has started to grow fond of) lets out a series of cries as she tries to wiggle out of her protective grasp. Her cries drive Sevika to find a way out of the prison. The whimpers of the mute girl bore into her brain as memories of her as a young child resurface. The tears dripping onto her bicep keep her moving.

Sevika is unable to produce words to the young girl. She curses as she knows that the words and emotions were more of your thing. Sevika wants to comfort her and tell her that Jinx will be okay, but even she doesn’t know that for sure.

So, she tries to think of things you would do to keep Isha happy. How your gentle presence allowed for the orphan girl to have a liking to you. She tries to caress her head the way you’ve done when putting her to sleep, but the lack of another arm leaves it more difficult. The best thing she can do is ensure the girl's safety. Sevika shakes her head and digs deep in her bones for extra fuel. Her body aches and has been aching extra hard these past days, but giving up is not an option. So, she thinks of anything but the carnage she just bore witness to and the heaviness of her legs slapping against the harsh concrete. Images of rare late mornings with you start playing in her mind. The sleepy cuddles with you raking your fingers through her hair and caressing her cheek play like a bitter sweet movie. The face you made when she came home with Jinx and Isha follows next. The softness that overcame your features when Isha peaked from behind Jinx’s leg left a feeling in Sevika’s chest that she never felt before. Warmth radiated through her heart like turning on a heater on the first day of winter.These thoughts carried her from topside to your shared home in Zaun.

The heavy footfalls outside of your humble apartment left your blood fall chill. Flashbacks to when Sevika came back from nearly dying left your heart beat pumping triple time. The door flings open to see a disheveled Sevika carrying an almost identical disheveled Isha. Your heart sinks as you piece what most likely had happened.

“Baby?” Your voice cracks as you walk closer to assess damages.

Sevika tries to hold on for you and for Isha, but knows if she speaks, tears will come. So she resorts to grunting. She hands Isha over to you and walks to the bathroom. You gape at her for a moment before springing to action. It isn’t until you feed, bathe, and clothe the young girl until you see Sevika step out of the room. You take that as a sign that she is ready to speak and you carry the young girl to the couch. Isha is knocked out at this point, you assume the combination of her crying and all that just went on really worn her out. You give the girl one last rub on the back and leave her with a kiss to the forehead.

You pass the kitchen to see the plate that you had left for Sevika to have been gone and in the sink ready to be cleaned. A small smile adorns your face as you are grateful for the fact that she was able to eat. You grab two glasses and fill them with water for you to bring to your shared bedroom.

You gently knock on the door before opening to see Sevika staring out the window. You make your way over to her side of the bed and rest the glasses of water on the nightstand. She doesn't even notice your presence until a small ‘clink’ of the glasses takes her out of her trance.

“Baby, what happened?” You take a seat right next to your lover, raking your fingertips up and down her spine. You can feel just how tense her whole body is as she sits rigid like a statue.

A shaky sigh is let out from Sevika as her eye contact remains looking at the darkness outside. The two of you just sit in silence for a bit until Sevika is able to start from the beginning. She lets you know just how terrified she actually felt at that time, she lets you know just how weak she felt without her arm, and she lets you know how you and Isha were the only things keeping her going. She lets you know how you were her north star and how without you, she would have just given up.

“I don’t even know what I am doing anymore, babe.” A stray tear finds its way down her cheek.

“All I ever do is fight and I just don’t know how much more I have in me. I'm tired…I am so tired.” More tears silently flow against your lover's cheek, breaking your heart at the sight. You caress her cheek, wiping away the tears she was too lazy to do herself.

Tiny cracks in your heart open like bullet wounds at her admission of her thoughts. You’ve known this to be true for a long time, yet being the protector that she is, Sevika never opened up to you about it. It is now time for you to put your strong face on and pick her up when she’s low, just like how she’s done for everyone else her entire life. You turn her face to look at yours, your tender hand contrasting her firm jaw. Sevika is reluctant to show you her brokenness, but she is just too tired to care at this point. Her eyes look past yours, darting around the room to find anywhere but your eyes.

“Look at me, honey.” You caress her cheek in hopes to coax her out of her mental prison. Your patience knows no bounds and that makes Sevika feel things she can’t even start to comprehend alone.

Her eyes trail to your own, swimming with emotion. She sees her future in your eyes and it scares her. You give her an encouraging smile and she feels her walls cracking.

“I- You’ve made me realize the things that I wish I could have and it scares me. I had nothing to lose for so long, and now I have so much on the line.” Her eyebrows furrow.

“Seeing the way you’ve completely changed my life confuses me. I know I don’t deserve a life that you are making me dream of.” Your eyes go wide at her confession to you.

“I never gave myself the opportunity to even imagine a world where I’m not alone, you know? But that day I came home to you after the explosion…It confused me. You have been the only constant in my life and I guess it just really hit today.” She nuzzles her face into your palm as you kiss the top of her head.

“Baby, you it hurts me to know that you can’t see just how much you deserve.” You lean in so that both of your foreheads are touching. Your eyes never leave her puppy dog grays.

“Because you know I am with you until the end. You are it for me Sev, you hear me? Whatever it takes.” You can barely get out the last of your words before Sevika is kissing you with all of the energy she has left. She may not be the best with her words, but she needs you to understand just exactly how you make her feel.

The kiss deepens as tears shed freely between the pair of you. Your bodies pressing close to one another, trying to engulf each other to become one. It gets to a point where Sevika has to pull away to catch her breath, but she doesn’t let you go too far. She stares at you in silence, taking in every aspect of your being.

“I’m terrified because you make me want those things. Having Isha here and seeing how you take care of her…” Sevika turns her head in slight embarrassment.

A huge smile adorns your face as you try and not scare her from opening up.

“Do you mean?” You whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder you’d jinx (no pun intended) yourself.

Sevika’s face is hot with awkwardness at her vulnerability. She hasn’t spoken these words aloud to anyone, especially yourself.

“I want to keep waking up to you and Isha making breakfast. I want to keep teaching her how to tinker and fix things. I want to come home from work to see you both dancing in the living room. I want to grow old with you, baby. Seeing just how quick all of that could have went away, Gods that fucked me up.” She uses her hand to tug her hair away from her eyes.

“You were the only thing on my mind. I had to keep going for you and Isha.”

And now it is your turn to start crying. Your tears freely fall for the love of your life. The privilege you have had to see Sevika grow into the woman who is sitting in front of you.

“I want all of that with you, are you kidding me? You’re the woman of my dreams babe. Whether you like it or not you’re stuck with me.” You laugh teary eyed and smile at the smirk your lover returns.

The two of you share quite giggles as you both crawl into bed. The day is finally settling and Sevika is definitely feeling its effects. You hold her in your arms and try to burn this into your memory forever.

“So…you wanna be Mama Sev, huh?” You tease and laugh at her body going rigid.

Taglist:

@ab2ysw1fe

@queenabrahel

@caicreations

@arevik2345

@munsonsfairy

@moonlightnumbsthepainifeel

@sevikellsss

@whoreshores

@archangeldyke-all

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visenyaism · 3 days ago

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Aegon Unworthy Administration Dashboard Simulator

⚔️ whiteswordtowerrr

the gold cloaks found my aegmon rpf guys it might be a while before my next update

💫 maidens-grace Follow

RIP OP this is why RPF is not only problematic (sinful against the Maiden AND the Smith) but will also literally deservedly get your skull put on a spike

⚔️ whiteswordtowerrr

I lived bitch. king aegon made me read it out loud to his brother because he thought it was funny but then he let me go. new chapter dropping in 20 minutes

#the dragonknight got all purple and furious but he did just have to stand there and take it. Just like in this next chapt- #the king did hook up with my sister afterwards though. what can you do

🍒lanadelreyene Follow

listennnnn im not saying he’s perfect im just saying liberating women from religious oppression and literal imprisonment in the maidenvault and letting his girl cousin do the economy and elevating women of all social standings to positions of prominence isnt NOTHING.

🫀tree-hearted

“king aegon is a feminist” “criston cole had hoes” you people will say anything on this website.

🛡️knighttime Follow

just saw that Daemon Waters kid like the king’s four year old bastard do a perfect standing backflip in the training yard. Kind of compelling. Kind of kingly. I don’t know…

#can prince daeron do a flip?????

🐉 rhaenyra-did-nothing-wrong Follow

It’s SO disgusting how the king would hire a H*ghtower hand only 50 years after that wretched family MURDERED HIS GRANDMOTHER AFTER USURPING HER THRONE. #UNWORTHYGATE

🪙 laenycashmoney150

Me and that nasty old man. To be honest

🌈 crystalcrowned Follow

I block everyone who is horny on main about the king on principle because fornication is a sin but op is talking about ALYN OAKENFIST?????? Girl.

🙌 fleabottomtop

Sneaking in through the secret tunnels in the red keep to smuggle queen naerys a vibrator and a blunt this shit is getting out of hand

💐 summersepta Follow

she would not like that. try again.

🙌 fleabottomtop

sneaking in through the secret tunnels in the the red keep to smuggle queen naerys a prayer book and a cigarette

🦇whentch

🐲 rogue-princess Follow

if i speak....🙈🤐

🐦‍⬛ raventreeballer-deactivated89169

FYI @ brackennation literally seduced the king to use her influence to ban pro-Blackwood posts on here. block and report this treacherous whore ASAP

🐎 brackennation-deactivated47170

I know it’s you missy. KYS jealous cunt

🎻bardalicious Follow

king aegon’s collection of teenage mistresses posting through it on the dash again

🔥 fireandwaters Follow

Sooooo sick of seeing delusional reachers reclaiming dragons**d as if that’s not a literal crownlands-specific slur used against the Valyrian-Westerosi community in King’s Landing and Dragonstone. I don’t care how many ae’s your grandma has in her name you are a HIGHTOWER you are a TARLY you are a REDWYNE you are seven forgive me for even saying this a BEESBURY. Categorically NOT a seed. It’s basically valyrian racefaking at this point

⛓️‍ gaymanpalehair Follow

Say it louder for the Great Bastards in the back!!!!!! theyre literally noble

🔥fireandwaters Follow

No I can say it?? I’m from KL I’m in the community why would it matter if I’m acknowledged

🌼 ever-sweet Follow

Seven hells my great-grandsire literally rode caraxes and I can’t acknowledge my own heritage? Dragonseed literally applies to ANY👏ONE👏of👏TAR👏GARYEN👏DES👏CENT.

🪵 kingswoody

At the rate the king is going everyone in the realm will be able to reclaim dragonseed in 20 years come on now

🐦‍⬛raventreeballer Follow

are we not going to acknowledge the toxic power imbalance of the king having had TWO Bracken mistresses and ONE Blackwood mistress????

🐚besterling Follow

THAT’S the toxic power imbalance you want to talk about??? That one??? Nothing else???

🔮hightowered Follow

okay I thought the valyrian racefaking discourse on here was dumb as shit but tell me WHY i just saw my bastard cousin serena change her name to “serenei” on all her socials and then start telling people she was from lys and can’t speak common.

#Good thing we’re dragonseeds otherwise this would be insane

🐟rainbowtrout Follow

non-riverlanders in 20 years when the Bracken-Blackwood beef becomes everybody’s problem because it’s a Targaryen civil war

🍎 fossoshethey

Quick where's that one meme about the valyrian god of prophecy playing dodgelance with random tumblr users

🎭mummersfarce Follow okay I’ll bite. did king aegon the unworthy fourth of his name do something problematic.

✨ fleabottombottom Follow

well as a dragonseed of dance-era descent i gotta say i am not appreciating how hard it is to buy purple shampoo in flea bottom recently what with the rate at which blonde bitches are being created in this kingdom fucking skyrocketing

🎭mummersfarce Follow

fucked up. blocking him now ✊

#Spotify #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #do not ask me what year in canon this is supposed to be contemporary to. its a bit all over

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osarina · 3 days ago

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ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BORN SICK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: that sinking feeling that's been looming over you both has finally come to fruition. truths are revealed, questions are answered, but one big one remains: is love enough for you and dazai's relationship to survive this?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy fridayyyyy, i can't believe we only have one chapter left of civzai, it's actually makin me emotional </3 this chapter was quite a doozy to write, and i hope it's equally a doozy to read HAHAH no no jkjk , i hope you enjoy. also do u guys want to add an arcane au to the dazaiverse .. ive been thinking heavily about it. comments & 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: hardly edited. angsty chapter. explicit depiction of suicide (past recollection of dazai), implications of past self-harm (dazai), very toxic thought processes at certain parts (dazai), past (and a bit of current) suicide ideation (dazai), manic behavior (reader).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’ve been eager to meet you for quite a while. In all of the years I’ve known her, my little hime has never let something as trivial as a boy come between her and our work… I knew you must be special, but I never could’ve imagined just how special. I’m so pleasantly surprised.”

Dazai’s head throbs as he comes to his surroundings. He’s laying in an uncomfortable bed—a hospital bed, he thinks, he can smell the unfortunately familiar scent of antiseptic, but the walls aren’t the typical white he’s used to. He winces as he sits up, unable to recall where he is or what happened to him. Everything is too fuzzy, he remembers being with Fitzgerald, the car ride to the tea house, and-

And he remembers you.

He remembers you.

He lets out a shaky breath as he recalls the way you’d pulled him into your arms, cradling him close as soon as you got him back from Fitzgerald. God, he only got to be with you for what felt like a second. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t nearly enough time. You sent him off, he remembers—you sent him with two of your subordinates, the weretiger and that freaky little girl, and then…

“Shhh… Don’t speak. I want to get this done and over with.”

The gun to his back, Atsushi and Kyouka’s cries of shock, the baton to his head.

“No can do, weretiger. On orders from the boss.”

His mind tracks back to the words that had been spoken as he was teetering on the edge of consciousness, mouth going dry and eyes widening as he becomes acutely aware of the other person in the room with him. His gaze flicks up to where a vaguely familiar man sits at a desk watching him—straight chin-length black hair, inquisitive purple eyes, a long black coat, Dazai isn’t sure where he recalls this man from but he knows that they’ve met before.

“Who…” Dazai asks, voice wavering as pain shoots through his head with every little movement. “Who are you? Have we… met before?”

His wrist hurts. His mother’s nails dig into his skin so deep that it draws blood, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d just been sleeping—is he still sleeping? He isn’t sure. He’s stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up with her, he keeps asking her what’s going on but she doesn’t answer him.

They turn a hall and his mother stops so suddenly that he slams right into her, nearly tripping over onto the ground. He doesn’t even regain his footing before his mother is pulling him back the way he came, he looks over his shoulder trying to figure out what caused his mother to panic so badly and he looks at—a man?

Who is that?

Why is he coming from grandfather’s room?

Is that-

Blood?

“Shuji! Shuji, don’t look back! Keep moving!”

Shuji? Who’s Shu-

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Dazai is startled out of the memory—was that a memory?—by the man’s voice. He sounds amused, and from the way that his eyes are glittering, Dazai can tell he’s finding great entertainment out of this situation. It pisses Dazai off. “Don’t you?”

“Tane-chan, you know you won’t be able to hide him forever. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

Dazai’s breath catches. He shifts backward on the bed to press his back against the wall. Everything is wrong—the air is too cold, his bandages are itching, his head hurts, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Who is Shuji? Why is he thinking of his mother after all of these years? And what… what was he remembering?

Memories of his youth have always been sparse and fleeting—he can vaguely recall the faces of his siblings, the anxiety he felt around his grandfather, the loneliness—but something like this… The panic on his mothers face, the pain in his wrist, the way she was dragging him around, the fear in her voice when she screamed at Dazai—was he Shuji? But then why—to not look back, to keep moving. He would remember something like that. That would be… crazy to forget, right?

What is going on?

“You’re Mori,” Dazai breathes out, clearing his throat. He hopes he doesn’t look as disconcerted as he feels, but he thinks he must. “You’re…”

The leader of the Port Mafia.

The closest thing you have to a father.

So, how does Dazai remember him from years ago? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen in that memory. What did he forget? When did he meet him? What’s going on? Dazai wants to scream, his mind is still slow from just waking up—he doesn’t even know how long he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been that long.

Mori’s smile widens as if Dazai just walked right into whatever trap that had been laid out for him, violet eyes flashing with a type of cruel amusement that makes Dazai sick to his stomach. Dazai has to circle back to remember what he just said, he needs to snap out of the daze he’s in. He needs to think. He made a mistake—Dazai made a mistake. He shouldn’t have admitted that he knew Mori. That was a mistake.

How does he fix it?

Can he fix it?

“You do know,” Mori says, like he didn’t actually expect Dazai to admit that he knew him. Like he’s pleasantly surprised. Again. Like Dazai just made things much easier for him. Shit. “Interesting.”

He’s going to use it against Dazai. Dazai knows it. He’s going to use it against him to hurt you. He remembers everything he’s learned about your relationship with Mori—how he pit you against that other girl, Yosano, to get results from you. And he already said it. He already said that Dazai is getting between you and your work, he’ll do the same thing here. He’ll pit you against him.

He’s going to tell you that Dazai knew who Mori was, and that Dazai is someone that he’s not—who is Shuji? Why doesn’t he remember his own name? Is that really his name? How does Mori know all of this? Who is Dazai?—and Dazai needs to be able to say something. He needs to be able to explain. How does he explain this when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? Dazai needs to remember; he needs to remember now, he needed to remember yesterday, because if he’s not the one to tell you this… If he can’t explain this…

This cannot be happening—it can’t. Right when he thought everything would be okay, when he would be with you. His throat starts to clog as anxiety clouds his head and weighs on his chest, a panic attack that he can’t afford right now. He needs to think, he needs to figure out what’s going on—Mori knows something about Dazai that he doesn’t know himself, and he’s going to use it against him to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s going to tell you, and-

Dazai’s world feels woozy. Why can’t he remember? How does he know Mori? What was happening that night with his mother? He needs to snap out of this, needs to think, but he can’t even breathe. Fear—the mind killer.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dazai rasps, his voice is hoarse, and he feels sick, and he hates admitting that he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he needs Mori to believe it so that he doesn’t tell you something that’s not true. “I don’t know how I know you. I don’t-”

“You might believe that,” Mori says amused, “but will she?”

Dazai stares at Mori, his stomach churns violently and his vision swims as the answer becomes abundantly clear to him.

He doesn’t know.

———

The gun in your hand weighs heavily.

You hid it in the inside of your blazer to get up to the conference room. No weapons are allowed up past the thirty-fifth floor unless you’re one of the Boss’s hand-picked personal guards—even executives are forced to disarm themselves before going up, but security is much more lax for the upper echelon. Because you’re you—the hime, second-in-command, the Boss’s daughter—the guards outside of the elevator that goes directly to the top floor wave you past the metal detectors to go on up.

A mistake.

(Who is Tsushima Shuji? It can’t be Dazai. You know Dazai. Mori must be wrong.)

The smile on your face is bland and doesn’t meet your eyes as you walk down the hall to the conference room attached to Mori’s office. You greet the guards, and they don’t notice how off your demeanor is, too starstruck over the fact that they’re being acknowledged for once. They also don’t notice the way your hand is curled around the grip of your gun in your blazer.

A mistake.

(Mori is never wrong. Do you really know Dazai?)

When you reach the end of the hallway, you toss them one last brilliant smile. This one is a bit more genuine because you’ve realized that you’ve gotten through the top notch security of the upper levels of the Port Mafia headquarters without a hitch. That you’re one step closer to finishing this. They’re so blinded by the beauty of your smile that they don’t realize your teeth have sharpened into knives and the floral perfume you wear masks a putrid bloodlust.

A mistake.

(It’s always been odd, hasn’t it? The way he approached you. The way he was so insistent on pushing himself into your life. You always questioned it. There was a sinking feeling that something wasn’t as it seemed. Why didn’t you question it more?)

You keep your back turned as you slip into the room. You can feel four presences behind you—Kouyou, Piano Man, Chuuya, Ace. No Mori. No Dazai. That’s fine—you have something to take care of before they show up anyway. The conference room is soundproof; Mori designed it that way because he didn’t want the guards outside to overhear any discussion of sensitive topics. Even if he handpicked them for their loyalty, he understands that money can make the most devout man’s faith waver. Still, it’s not them rushing in that you’re worried about—it’s the people in the room with you rushing out, so you very carefully twist the nub of the lock and then reach up to fix the deadbolt. It won’t stop them, but it will slow them. You can feel their eyes on you as you make sure the door is locked, but none of them call you out for it or try to stop you.

A mistake.

(Mori always told you that the Tsushimas were like cockroaches. If they all weren’t killed, one would eventually return to reclaim their grandfather’s empire. There’d be a power struggle between the factions loyal to the new regime and the ones that still hid in the shadows believing that the Tsushima blood belonged at the head of the organization. Everything the two of you had built would crumble to ashes.)

You turn to make your way over to the conference table where the four of them are sitting. You haven’t decided how you want to go about this yet. You don’t know who all was aware of what Mori did, and because of that, you don’t know who needs to die. Treachery has always faced a death penalty—you don’t care if Mori ordered it, you don’t care that the Boss’s word is absolute, you have bled and breathed for the Port Mafia. You’ve sacrificed everything you’ve ever owned and wanted for the Port Mafia. You have made the Port Mafia into what it is today with your efforts abroad and at home—foreign governments, foreign criminal organizations, the Japanese government and other domestic mafias, all of them are just puppets that you pull the strings of to ensure the Port Mafia stays on top. Treachery against you will face the same penalty one would receive if they betrayed the Port Mafia, because you are the Port Mafia—Mori has made sure of that.

Chuuya and Piano Man share a look with one another as you approach the table. Neither of them say anything—is it confusion? Is it guilt? Did they know? Were you the only one unaware of the schemes going on around you? Were you the only one loyal? The only one you could trust?

Did they know?

(No one could ever love you without your ability at work influencing them. You’ve known that since the very beginning, but you were so quick to forget that when you discovered Dazai’s ability. You should have had more questions, you should have been more suspicious. Mori had been right from the very beginning. You were emotionally compromised. You were weak.)

Ace opens his mouth to speak.

A mistake.

“It was nice meeting your-”

Ace’s head hits the conference table with a hard thunk, his eyes wide and glassy, his mouth open around the words you didn’t let him finish speaking. Blood seeps from the bullet hole in his temple and pools around his head and the ground beneath his chair, staining the glass table and the white floors.

Instead of lowering your arm, you shift it so that the gun is pressed against Piano Man’s temple next. Chuuya says your name—it’s awful, something caught between a gasp of shock and confusion, he’s never said your name like that before. Like he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Like he doesn’t understand you. Like you’re something unfamiliar. Unrecognizable. You ignore him anyway, and the pangs that come along with it, and instead, you keep your gaze trained on Piano Man’s face.

He’s not as panicked as Chuuya, but you can tell that he’s just as caught off guard from the way his lips are twisted. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to say whatever you’re going to say—if you were going to pull the trigger, you would’ve done so immediately, he knows that. He’s always been good at reading you, better than even Chuuya sometimes.

“Did you know?”

Your voice is steadier than you expect it to be. Cold almost. Distant. You don’t recognize it yourself, you suppose it’s no wonder that Chuuya’s staring at you with such a foreign expression. You watch him just as carefully as he does you. He has a tell when he lies: he squints. Not an obvious squint, just the barest hint of his eyes squeezing shut like he’s calculating exactly what he wants to say, in what tone and with what fluctuation he wants to say it.

A subtle tell, but a tell nonetheless.

“No.”

He stares at you steadily as he says it. There’s no squint—he’s telling the truth. You don’t let out a breath of relief, but you certainly feel the weight off of your shoulders. You lower the gun, satisfied with his response, and then you walk over to where Chuuya is sitting.

You don’t raise the gun to his temple immediately. He looks up at you, you look down at him, a whole conversation is had in the silence between you, and eventually he lowers his lashes in resignation, telling you to do what needs to be done for you to feel more at ease.

He’s always put others before himself.

You lift the gun at the same time he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He could activate the Tainted Sorrow and end this before it starts, but he doesn’t—you know in your gut that if you pulled the trigger right now, he would accept the fate you delivered. Probably would take it as a better one than he deserved—it being at your hands rather than Arahabaki.

“Did you know?” you ask. The words taste bitter, rancid—they don’t belong there, Chuuya would never betray you, but you had to hear it from him.

Chuuya doesn’t have many tells when he lies—he’s a good actor, much better than people give him credit for. If he wanted to lie to you, he might be able to get away with it. But he won’t lie to you, not when he’s looking you in the eye.

“No,” he says, voice soft and raspy like he can’t believe he has to say it.

You let the gun drop to your side. It weighs heavier now—heavier than it did in the elevator, heavier than it did in the hallway leading to the room, heavier than it did when it was pressed against Piano Man’s head. You can hardly bear to keep holding it, but you’re not done yet.

Slowly, your gaze turns to Kouyou. Her expression is cold and unreadable, gaze pinned on you in the same way a lion stalks its prey through the tall grass… No, that’s not right. She stares at you with the same look in her eyes that a snake does when it’s curled in a corner, rattle shaking and hissing to try to scare off the predator that has it trapped.

“You knew,” you breathe out softly in disbelief. Your voice hardens and tightens as you repeat, “You knew!”

Before you can raise your gun—before you can pull the trigger four, five, six times, before you can riddle her body with holes because how dare she know, how dare she know and not tell you after what the previous boss did to her—the door that separates the conference room from Mori’s office opens, and your attention is drawn to the one person who caused all of this.

“Oh my,” Mori says airly, looking between you, Ace’s body, and Kouyou with an expression that is frustratingly amused. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You almost want to laugh. You think you do laugh, actually—someone does, and you think it’s you, because you feel yourself walking away, you lift your hands to your head to tug at your ears in frustration. Your vision is blurry—are you crying?

“You betrayed me,” you finally say, voice quieter than you intend, so you raise it as you repeat yourself. “You betrayed me. You. Of all people I never thought you would be the one to-”

You can’t even finish the sentence, your voice cracks over the words. It makes you feel sick, it makes you angry, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because how could he? To you? You don’t know why you’re so angry, why you’re so betrayed. Mori has always made it clear that his priority is the Port Mafia, but still, to do this to you. To do this to his-

To his what?

You’re not his daughter. You hate when people imply that you are, you hate being called hime, you hate being called ‘Miss Mori’, you hate when people give you respect because of your perceived relationship to him.

He’s the only father you’ve ever known. Almost every decision you’ve made has been with the motive of making him proud of you. When he seeks out your opinion specifically during meetings, your chest becomes warm with pride.

You don’t love him. How could you? Look at what you’ve become because of him.

Then why do you feel so betrayed? Why did you think he would be the last person to do something like this to you when you know the type of person he is? Why does your chest feel like it’s caving in? Like your heart’s been ripped right out of it? Why does this hurt as much—why does this hurt more than Dazai’s potential betrayal?

And he certainly doesn’t love you. He never would have done this if he did.

He’s killed people for disrespecting you—he hardly ever gets his own hands dirty, but he does when it’s you and your dignity on the line. He spends hours meticulously picking out birthday presents that he knows you’ll like. He gets sad when he invites you for lunch and you don’t join him, reminiscing about the days where you clung to the back of his coat.

He touches your shoulder, and your finger twitches on the trigger of the gun. You want to lift it, press it to his temple and pull the trigger just like you did to Ace, but you can’t. Your arm feels like lead, and when his hand slides down to your bicep to force you to turn around and face him so that your back is to the rest of the executives, you dutifully follow along.

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you, violet eyes swimming with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. He lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tears that had spilled over your cheeks with his knuckle, and then taps your cheek twice, chiding you silently.

Do not cry here, little hime. Not here.

“You have always been so dramatic,” Mori hums just loud enough for you to hear, but the words are fond, and the corners of his lip curl up as he looks down at you. “I would not betray you. Not ever, dear.”

You look at Ace pointedly in response and then back to Mori, the man sighs dramatically and gives you a disappointed look. The nerve, you think bitterly, narrowing your eyes on him as you wait for his explanation.

“I told you,” Mori says. “I did this to protect you. I wanted to get ahold of the boy-”

“Because you have some mistaken belief that he’s a Tsushima,” you interrupt coolly. “How did you even manage to come up with that ridiculous theory?”

Mori’s eyes flicker with something akin to interest, but shifts quickly into pity—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or mocking, and you don’t know which would be worse. He must be mistaken, he has to be. You don’t think you can handle the implications of if he isn’t, of what it might mean for you. For Dazai. Your whole relationship with him. How much was manufactured for him to get information about the Port Mafia? So he could get a foothold in the organization? Get in contact with the remaining loyalists to his family?

“Sit,” he tells you, guiding you over to the seat at the right of the head of the table. “I’ll explain everything, but first… Shuji-kun, why don’t you come out and join us?”

Your breath catches at Mori’s words, gaze twisting to the side over to the door that he’d come out of. You watch as the door creaks open, and the achingly familiar sight of his face finally comes into view. You’ve missed him—you’ve missed him, and you hate this. You should be back at your apartment with him, you should have him curled up in your arms, you should be listening to him complain about how long he was stuck with the Guild.

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be sitting at the executive roundtable with Ace’s dead body a few feet away, and Dazai entering the room, questions of his identity, of whether or not he’s been using you for information and opportunity to take back his grandfather’s legacy.

You hoped that Dazai would enter the room angry, irritated by the kidnapping and the accusations, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai look like this before. He looks a mess, fidgeting, brown hair matted to his forehead, dark eyes wide and swirling with emotion. When he seeks you out, they’re pleading, imploring, like he already knows that whatever is about to be said is going to be bad for him.

He looks… frazzled. Nervous. Confused.

He looks guilty, and you know that Mori is telling the truth.

How much of this was a lie? All of it?

Your throat feels uncomfortably tight, gaze sliding from Dazai back to Mori.

“Tell me.”

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

———

Despite his body being wracked with a strange sense of guilt, Dazai pushes open the door to enter the room where he assumes you’ll be waiting. You’re not the only one there sitting at the table—there’s five… no, four others—but Dazai can’t help the way he immediately seeks you out. He recognizes his mistake instantly. That highly unwelcome, and highly misplaced, guilt amplifies the moment his gaze meets yours and he sees how crushed you are by all of this. His face twists into something that he knows condemns himself more. and from the way you instantly look away from him, directing your full attention to Mori, he knows he has.

Now, you won’t meet his eyes at all.

Dazai sits stiffly across from you to the left of Mori. Nakahara Chuuya is on his opposite side, glaring holes into the side of Dazai’s head, but he can’t drag his gaze from you. He’s never seen you like this before—even back at the beach house when you’d been so close to breaking down under the weight of everything on your shoulders, you’d held yourself together as best you could.

You’re unraveling now; he can tell you’re still trying to hold yourself together, but it’s as good as trying to pick up water with your fists, your emotions spill out through the cracks carved into the walls you used to hide yourself behind. Mori hasn’t even begun talking, yet your breath is unsteady and your eyes are swimming with emotion; your fingers are still wrapped tight around the grip of your gun, and Dazai is very acutely aware of Ace’s dead body slouched over the table not even a few feet away.

And you won’t even meet his eyes.

Maybe it’s a good thing, he realizes, because Dazai isn’t sure what you might see if you do. You clearly didn’t like what you saw the first time. He just feels so guilty, and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty because he’s not-he didn’t do any of what Mori implied. He didn’t use you, he didn’t know who you were before meeting you, it wasn’t all some scheme to try to take over the mafia. That’s ludicrous—he’s a literature student at YNU, not some gang lord. He just-

He loved you. Loves you. No ulterior motives. No strings attached.

“I said tell me,” you snap when Mori doesn’t immediately begin talking. “You love talking, so why are you holding back now? Tell me, or I’m leaving.”

Dazai feels a bit sick to his stomach when you say ‘I’ with no implication of taking him with you. He tries to get you to look at him again, silently pleading with you to just spare one glance in his direction, but you’re irritated now. He can see it in the way your fingers flex around the gun, knuckles whitening and finger twitching on the trigger—it’s pointed at the woman sitting next to you, who is very acutely aware of the fact from how stiff she is.

“Do you remember the night we took over the Port Mafia, dear?” Mori asks her, voice a low hum.

“What kind of question is that?” you answer tightly. Your lip curls up in irritation, Dazai can see you become more and more antsy and angry—he’s never seen you so out of control before. “Of course, I do.”

“And you, Shuji-kun?” Mori turns his attention to Dazai and he wants to spit in his face—his name is Dazai—but his voice fails him when he sees the way your face twists at the sound of the unfamiliar name. He stares at Mori instead, hating how amused the man becomes at his silence. “I’ll take that as a no, allow me to refresh you.”

“Eight years ago, a coup was staged against your grandfather’s regime,” Mori says, and Dazai feels like he’s being studied under a microscope. All eyes are on him now—even yours, but now, he can’t bring himself to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, and he’s scared it’s going to be something he doesn’t like. “Your grandfather was mad, killing civilians and mafiosos indiscriminately, something had to be done, and nobody was willing to do it, so we did.”

“We had to wipe out the whole family, and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s grandaughter…”

Dazai’s gaze drags over to you. You’re staring ahead now, gaze listless and expression eerily blank like you’re slowly starting to realize what this means. Dazai hasn’t come to terms with it yet, because if even a little of what Mori is saying is true then…

“We wiped out the whole bloodline and as many loyalists as we could,” Mori continues, “or we thought we did, at least. My dear hime was who I sent to kill the heirs, I trusted in her to make it quick and painless. We didn’t realize one of the grandchildren were missing until it was too late—he wasn’t in his bedroom, apparently liked to wander around at night because he couldn’t sleep. His mother was able to swoop in and get him out of the estate before our men took over the building… Tsushima Shuji, the youngest of the previous boss’s grandsons. Does this sound familiar yet, Shuji-kun?”

He has the best view of the night sky from an alcove on the fourth floor of the estate—his grandfather’s floor. It’s where he likes to go when he can’t sleep at night, and ever since his cousins and siblings started fighting over their grandfather’s legacy, that’s been just about every night: half because of fear now that things have started escalating to violence, half because he’s not even sure why he’s still here.

His knees are tucked tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting against the cool glass as he looks up at the stars. He hears a commotion happening somewhere downstairs, but there’s always a commotion happening at the estate, so he thinks nothing of it. He submerges himself in the darkness instead, letting his mind float away as he stares up at the sky—it’s the only time he’s able to relax, escape from the shadows of his own mind.

He’s not sure how long he sits there admiring the night, time passes immeasurably when he’s lost in the stars—he’s only snapped out of it when he hears feet slamming against the ground in his direction. He stiffens, eyes wide, wondering if another one of his cousins has finally turned to bloodshed as the way to inherit their grandfather’s legacy, but instead his mother turns the corner, her smooth face contorted in a type of panic he’s never seen on her before.

“Mothe…” he starts to say, confused, but he doesn’t even get a chance to finish the word, gasping as his mother grabs his wrist and yanks him off the cushioned seat in the alcove.

“Shuji, we have to go,” she gasps, “we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

He stumbles after his mother, struggling to keep up with her quick pace and longer legs. Her grip was painful, nails digging into the bandages around his wrists, right into the fresh wounds they covered. He grimaces in pain, breathing heavy as he follows his mother down the hall, assumingly toward the steps near his grandfather’s room.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What about Bunji? Akane? T-”

His mother chokes over what sounds like a sob and his eyes widen—he’s never heard his mother cry before.

“There’s no time,” she chokes out, “we have to leave without them. We-”

They turn a hall, she skids to a stop and-

“It seems that it does… Allow me to continue then,” Mori hums, drawing Dazai out of the memory. He sounds unbearably amused, and Dazai would be angry if he wasn’t so shaken. He pulls his hands off of the table to rest them in his lap to hide the way his fingers are trembling. “Your mother was able to hide you from us for half a year, I warned her that she wouldn’t be able to for long and since she didn’t share your grandfather’s blood, promised to spare her life if she gave you up to us, but she refused. She tried to take you out of the Kanagawa Prefecture, but our men were catching up to her, and she took… drastic measures to ensure we couldn’t track you down. That I’m sure you remember.”

“Mother,” he whispered, staring up at the rope, her limp body, gaze trailing down to the kicked over chair. “Mother, I don’t… why did you…”

He takes a step closer. A step back. Another step closer. He reaches out, fingers brushing the white nightgown she’d worn the night before while getting him settled in bed, but he snatches them back instantly like he’d been burned, clutching his hand to his chest.

He’s not breathing, he realizes when his lungs start to burn. His eyes sting painfully, unable to draw his eyes away—unable to even blink—is it a nightmare? Is he hallucinating? She sways—sways like when she used to distract him when he was settling into a depressive episode by putting on music and forcing him to spin with her in the kitchen, sways like the wind chimes she keeps outside because the house doesn’t feel homely enough without him, sways-

“Shuji! Shuji, get away from there!” The voice that calls to him is familiar—Aunt Kiye? Why is she here? “God, I tried to get here earlier. Nee-san, forgive me.”

Aunt Kiye grabs his wrist, yanking him away from his mother, dragging him out of her bedroom and down the hall. His voice is hoarse as he screams, he doesn’t know what he’s screaming, if he’s even screaming anything intelligible. He doesn’t stop until he’s out of the house and she’s kneeling in front of him, shaking him out of his panic.

“Enough, Shuji! We have to go, we can’t stay here, they’ll be here soon,” Aunt Kiye shouts at him, expression twisted and eyes pooling with tears that she doesn’t let spill over. “We need to go, and we-we need to change your name, change everything. I promised I would hide you, I-”

“We can’t leave her there,” he argues, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, why did she do that? What did I do? It was my fault, It was my fault, wasn’t it? It-”

Aunt Kiye doesn’t answer his question. She looks bitter, angry, hateful. “We have no time. We have to leave,” she whispers, dragging him to the car despite his protests. She continues talking, more to herself than to him, but the words make his chest cave in. “I told her not to get involved with that family. Their blood is black, cursed. Everyone knows nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

His fault, he realizes, breath becoming thin and shallow. It’s his fault, his blood, his fault that his mother-

“Yes, quite the unfortunate scene we walked into,” Mori says dismissively. “She was smart for it though, she never would’ve survived a night with our sweet hime interrogating her. You should see what she did to that despicable journalist. Of course, she wasn’t as fine-tuned with her ability back then, but that would’ve been at your mother’s expense—her first few attempts at conditioning were quite… unfortunate for her test sub-”

“Enough,” you spit out, interrupting him. Dazai wants to believe that it’s because you can see how uncomfortable he’s getting, but he’s not even sure that you care. He’s not even sure you remember he’s in the room. “Get to the point. You think he’s the Tsushima kid we missed—that doesn’t prove shit. It doesn’t mean-”

You don’t finish what you’re going to say, but you do look at him, and Dazai’s breath catches when his gaze finally meets yours again. He can’t tell what you’re thinking—the expression on your face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between being accusatory and guilty. Dazai doesn’t know if he’s going to make it out of this room alive. Even if by some miracle, you decide to believe him, there’s a good chance that Mori will order his death anyway, and he’s not sure if you’ll pick him over the Port Mafia.

That being said, Dazai doesn’t even know if he wants to make it out of here alive. His brain is fogged with memories that he locked so deep within him that they never should’ve resurfaced—every time Mori speaks, Dazai’s recalling something new, something awful, something that proves that he’s every bit the freak people have always claimed him to be. Every bit as bad. Every bit as wrong. Not like other people. A monster whose mother killed herself because of him, a monster who's been cursed since the day he was born.

“... blood is black, cursed… nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

More than that, he doesn’t see how the two of you are going to be able to come back from this, and that scares him more than anything. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it without you, but he doesn’t think that after all of this things are just going to work out. You killed his siblings. His cousins. And yeah, Dazai was never close to them—they thought he was too quiet, too strange, all of the things that the other students at school whispered, his family was the first to—but… they were still his family, and if Dazai had been in his room that night, he would’ve been just as dead at your hands as the rest of them.

You killed his family. You would have killed him. The Port Mafia is the reason his mother killed herself, the reason why he walked into her bedroom and saw her hanging from a fan. The Port Mafia is the reason his aunt hated him so much that she couldn’t even bear looking at him, the reason why he was left to die in Suribachi City.

Would you ever be able to get over the guilt of that? Would Dazai be able to accept it? You had a heavy hand in ruining his life, is it enough that you saved him years later? He doesn’t know, he’s hardly even processed it, he just knows that he has to cling to what little he has left, dig his nails in and not let go even if it makes you choke on guilt, even if it makes him sick with shame. He won’t let go.

“So impatient,” Mori sighs. “Your aunt hid you for almost another half a year, but she wasn’t able to move out of the Yokohama area. She did well though, I’ll give her that. We had our best trying to find you, but she was very careful. It was partially our own fault that we didn’t get our hands on you back then—some loyalists to your grandfather snuck under our radar, told her when we were closing in on the two of you. She got rid of you before we got to her… but we did get to her. Kouyou-kun was the one who handled her, if I recall it got quite… messy. I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that your mother and aunt sacrificed themselves to protect you only for you to throw it all away in an arrogant attempt to reclaim your grandfather’s legacy.”

Dazai doesn’t even zero in on the last bit of what Mori says because he’s too busy trying to wrap his head around the rest of it. Aunt Kiye didn’t… die for him. Aunt Kiye hated him. He remembers that clear enough—he remembers how she could hardly stand to look at him, he remembers the way she was always so cold and rough with him, he remembers-

“You have to go, Osamu.” Aunt Kiye is shouting at him, and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He doesn’t move, he thinks maybe if he sits still enough, she won’t see him there and won’t make him leave. “Osamu, get out of the car and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

The name is still unfamiliar—he’s not used to it, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but Aunt Kiye insists that Tsushima Shuji is dead and that name can never be uttered again. She gets mad when he doesn’t immediately answer to it, tells him not to let his mother’s death be in vain, and that’s usually enough to get him to stop being stubborn over it.

“Osamu, go!” She grabs his bicep hard to try to get his attention, but he flinches and squirms out of her grip, still not responding to her. He can’t remember the last time he’s spoken—he thinks maybe since they left the cabin that morning. “You-”

Aunt Kiye sounds angry now, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. It’s only when he hears her unbuckle and feels her start reaching over him that he starts to panic. He reaches up to grab her bicep, trying to stop her from grabbing the handle of the door to open it, but she’s stronger than him. He’s hardly been eating lately, and he’s never been particularly strong—he was always the smallest among his siblings.

It takes no effort for her to bat his hands away, pushing open the door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He struggles against her as she tries to push him out of the car, and she’s still speaking—shouting at him, begging him, he thinks she might be crying too, but he can’t even tell. His mind is fogged with panic and fear—he doesn’t want to be alone in Suribachi City, he doesn’t want to be alone at all. He wants to stay with Aunt Kiye even if she hates him because he doesn’t want to be alone.

Eventually, Aunt Kiye wins the fight—even with him fighting tooth and nail, she manages to push him out of the car. He hits the ground hard, gasping when he lands poorly on his elbow. He’s stunned for a moment by the shock and pain, and Aunt Kiye takes the chance to toss out a backpack from the back seat and close the door behind him, locking it quickly.

“No!” His voice is raspy from lack of use over the past few months. He scrambles to his feet and tries to pry the door open but can’t. Aunt Kiye won’t even look at him, she stares ahead as she switches the car into gear and he slams his hands against the window. “Aunt Kiye! Aunt Kiye, don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just don’t-”

He stumbles back as she pulls the car away, falling when he trips over the backpack onto the asphalt, scraping up his hands and forearms. He’s not sure how long he sits there staring after where the car disappeared waiting for her to come back for him.

She doesn’t.

She didn’t die for him, Dazai thinks again, nails digging crescents into his palm. She didn’t die for him, she couldn’t have. Dazai won’t believe it. Aunt Kiye hated him, she abandoned him in Suribachi—none of this can be true. It can’t. His mother killed herself to be free of him, not to protect him; and Aunt Kiye abandoned him because she hated him, not to save him.

That’s the truth. It has to be. They couldn’t have died for him—for him. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t want to remember all of this—he was better off thinking that they hated him, that they wanted to be free of him.

He can feel you looking at him now, but Dazai is back to being unable to look at you. He’s staring down at the glass table looking at his reflection, his eyes are wide and dark and far too black—he looks warped, inhuman almost. His expression is blank, none of the turmoil within him is reflected on it, and he doesn’t even understand why. He thinks it’s probably just making him seem more guilty.

“We figured she left you somewhere in Suribachi City, but we weren’t able to track you down,” Mori says flippantly. Dazai wants him to stop talking, but he has a sick feeling things are only going to get worse from here. “Not until you ended up with Oda Sakunosuke, at least, we…”

Dazai’s ears ring at his old friend’s name. Mori is still talking, but his words become a distant buzz. Everything starts coming back to him at once—his time alone in Suribachi City, the weeks he spent rationing the little food he had, getting the shit kicked out of him by some low rung gang who stole his mother’s ring from him. He remembers giving up, questioning the point of his own existence with a detached logic that left him with only one answer—there was no point to his existence, so he was as good dead as he was alive.

He remembers seeing on a sign that it was the eve of his fifteenth birthday, and he remembers dropping himself in the bay during a storm, hoping that the tide dragged him so far beneath the surface that he’d never see the light of day again.

He remembers waking up the next morning to an unfamiliar face at his bedside, brows knit in disapproval and lips turned down, and he distinctly remembers feeling put out by a stranger looking at him that way.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dazai couldn’t remember anything but the name Aunt Kiye had drilled into him over and over again the past few months.

“Dazai Osamu.”

“Hm. Oda Sakunosuke. You got a family, Dazai?

Odasaku brought him in.

Odasaku saved him.

The doctors said he’d been dead for almost three minutes when Odasaku found him washed up on the beach—said his memory might return over time, but it might not—but Dazai didn’t even care, because Odasaku brought him in. He gave him a roof over his head, food to eat, and a reason to live. He sent him to school so he could feel like a normal kid his age. He played board games with him and didn’t even care when Dazai was a sore loser and quit mid-game when he realized he wouldn’t win. He humored Dazai when he faked being sick because he didn’t want to go to school. When Dazai was going through bad depressive episodes, Odasaku would sit with him silently and write his book so Dazai never felt alone. Odasaku introduced him to Ango and they were-

They were his friends.

Family, maybe.

They were all he had, and they were all he needed.

And then-

“We were the ones who killed him.”

Dazai’s gaze drags up from the table to focus on Mori. The man’s lips are curved into a cruel smile, his eyes are sharp, and Dazai is moving before he can stop himself. He lunges across the table, but Mori doesn’t even flinch because Nakahara Chuuya grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him back down into his seat.

“You-” Dazai spits, voice raspy and angry.

“Don’t look at me like that, we were trying to get to you,” Mori says casually as if the words don’t shatter Dazai’s entire world. “We would’ve loved to have Oda Sakunosuke amongst our ranks. His death was unfortunate. Collateral damage. He was an assassin for a long time—one of the best in the world. He was pretty much unkillable, his ability allowed him to see six seconds into the future. I never understood how our sniper managed to get him that day, but now I do. He saw you getting shot with his foresight and tried to pull you out of the way, but your ability is nullification, so when he touched you to save you, he damned himself. In those split seconds when he was pulling you to safety, he couldn’t see the future, and couldn’t see the bullets aimed for you that lodged into his chest instead.”

Dazai can’t do this anymore. He tries to push himself up to his feet but his legs are numb and uncooperative, and he can’t move his hands or arms. Mori’s lips part to continue speaking but Dazai can’t do this, he can’t hear anymore of this. He’d always known in his heart that Odasaku’s death was his fault even if he couldn’t remember much about his mother and Aunt Kiye and their desperate attempts to hide him from the Port Mafia. He’d known, but hearing it-hearing the confirmation, it’s too much for him.

Before Mori can say anything, Dazai is startled from his spiraling thoughts when you stand up so abruptly that your chair goes flying back. Your expression is haunted and you’re not looking at him again, but Dazai is glad for it, because he thinks he’s about to throw up.

“I… I need a minute. I just need a minute,” you say shakily before fleeing the room into Mori’s office so quickly that you almost trip over the chair you knocked over.

The room is silent in your wake, and after a few impossibly long moments, Mori stands to follow you into the other room. The three Port Mafia executives left in the room don’t say anything for a moment, and Dazai is just trying to breathe. He’s trying to breathe and process what Mori just said, but he’s failing miserably at it.

It’s the woman, Kouyou, who speaks first.

“She’s going to kill me for knowing about this,” she says simply, sparing a glance down at the dead body on her opposite side. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Even when Chuuya-kun went missing for a few days, this…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have conspired against her,” Piano Man sings, looking entirely unperturbed. “I mean honestly, after what the previous boss did to you, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic. Silly me to think you aren’t a cold-hearted bitch.”

Dazai tries to pay attention to what they’re saying, he tries to ground himself with the conversation happening so he can forget the feeling of Odasaku’s blood all over his hands, staining his clothes, smeared on his face. He tries to replace Mori’s echoing words with what they’re saying but he can’t.

“We were trying to get to you.”

“It has nothing to do with sympathy,” Kouyou snaps, but she does look ashamed. “It’s a security threat, it’s bigger than love. This boy could spell the end of everything we’ve built.”

“She won’t kill you, Ane-san,” Chuuya finally speaks up, his knuckles are tight around the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’ll talk to her, I just-”

“When he touched you to save you, he damned himself.”

“Chuuya-kun, she almost killed you,” Kouyou says so dryly that the words almost don’t even register to Dazai, but when they do, they’re the only thing that effectively draws him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks at Chuuya sharply to see if what Kouyou said was true, and his eyes widen when he only grimaces and looks down. “You and Piano Man. She didn’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger on Ace. She’s unstable right now, there’s no talking to her.”

“But she didn’t,” Chuuya says tightly. “I’ll talk to her, but first…”

Chuuya looks at Dazai so suddenly that he almost wants to snap his head away and ignore him, but he can’t. The ginger studies Dazai so intensely that it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

“Did you know?” Chuuya asks, voice low. He’s angry, Dazai can tell from the way a dark red color starts to flicker around his hands, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Tell me. Did you know who she was and use her to get closer to the Mafia for revenge? I’ll spare her the pain of having to put a bullet through your fucking head and kill you myself right now. Did you know who she was and purposely-”

“No,” Dazai interrupts, voice hoarse. “No. I didn’t-I didn’t know.”

Chuuya stares at him for a few seconds, studying him like he doesn’t know if he actually believes him, but after what feels like an eternity, he finally shakes his head and looks away, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck, this is such a mess,” Chuuya breathes out, voice strained. “Fuck. She-”

Chuuya doesn’t finish his sentence because the door to Mori’s office reopens and you step back into the room, Mori at your heels. Your eyes are red, but your expression is withdrawn now, void of the tumultuous emotions that had been raging across it just a few minutes before. You settle back in your seat. Your eyes flit over Dazai like he’s not even there before focusing on Mori.

Dazai suddenly has a bad feeling.

“I’m not quite sure how you escaped us after that,” Mori continues where he left off, and Dazai is so sick of the man’s voice that he almost wants to rip his own ears off. “Probably Sakaguchi-san from the SDUP, I recall him and Oda-san being close… but that brings us to the present, doesn’t it? Four years later, you stumble into our lovely hime… Come, dear, let me tell you my running theory, and you tell me how accurate I am, yeah?”

Mori is looking at you now, eyes glittering as he waits for your response. Dazai has his own serious issues with the man, but he thinks it’s sick the way he’s enjoying your clear discomfort and increasing distress. Your jaw tightens a bit, but you nod, signaling for Mori to speak. Dazai’s nails dig into his pants as he waits for Mori to continue. Neither of you look at him, and Dazai’s lips part to speak so he can preemptively deny whatever Mori is about to accuse him of, but he can’t push a single word out.

“Your first meeting with him wasn’t by chance. A cafe, maybe… a bar?” Mori offers, watching your face carefully for a reason. You look away at the second option, and the man’s lips curve up. “A bar, then. One you frequent, I bet. The one in Hodogaya-ku, perhaps? Your first meeting, but not Shuji-kun’s first time seeing you. Ui Koutarou—his journalism professor at YNU—wrote his first article implicating the Mori Corporation’s connection with the Port Mafia in February of this year, around a month before rising fourth year students register for classes. Shuji-kun, naturally, has been following anything related to the Port Mafia closely, so when he sees a class being offered in the fall by the same man who has been openly targeting the Port Mafia, he sees an opportunity and signs up for the class.”

No, Dazai tries to say. His lips form the word, but the sound doesn’t come from his lips. No. No, no, no, no. You look haunted suddenly, and Dazai remembers the argument he had with you during the government event in Tokyo. How cold and withdrawn you’d become. How when he confronted you next, you accused him of working with Ui Koutarou and blackmailing you for money. Mori is reigniting all of the initial fears you once had.

“Ui-san has had his sights set on you for quite a while, dear. You don’t need me to tell you that, you’re very well aware of the man’s hatred of you… When Shuji-kun started classes in the fall, Ui-san roped him into his plans, and you became his project. That wretched man had many documents on you. I had the Black Lizards raid his apartment after we captured him—most were harmless, detailing places you frequented and people seen around you, but when Shuji-kun became involved, he started using that information to manufacture meetings between you. I imagine that after you met him that first time, he started appearing around you rather regularly. Bump-ins at that cafe you like in Minami-ku, on the streets—he even started renting an apartment on property that we own after he realized the opportunity he had with Ui… he’s only been living there since the summer, you know?”

His last apartment wasn’t close enough to the school, Dazai wants to argue desperately. He’d been lucky that a cheap apartment opened up in Hodogaya-ku before the semester started—he’s been trying to get one since his first year. It has nothing to do with-

Dazai suddenly feels nauseous again, everything is spinning around him—he still hears Aunt Kiye screaming at him, he still hears the creaking of the rope his mother hung himself on, he still hears Mori’s confirming that Odasaku’s death was his fault. And now this, and you’re not looking at him again, and he’s not saying anything, why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying this?

“He attached himself to you quickly, didn’t he?” Mori asks rhetorically. “Too quickly, I’m sure you had doubts—not even your ability makes people reliant on you as swift as he became. How long did it take for him to start prying for information? Trying to make you slip up and implicate yourself with the Mafia? Confess yourself as an ability user?”

The night of the earthquake when you showed up at his apartment, he remembers dizzily. He started pressing you on your political opinion because he remembered Ui saying that all of the criminal syndicates in Japan are going to do whatever it takes to prevent the military bill from passing. But he wasn’t… doing it to prove anything? He just wanted to know more about you, he was curious, he was finally putting the mystery that you are together. It wasn’t malicious—he just wanted to know you. That’s all it ever was, he’s only ever wanted to know you.

“When did you tell him about your ability? More about our organization? Around when the Guild started making their move in Yokohama, I’m sure. He never told you about his ability until his hand was forced. In fact, I’m willing to bet he lied and said he didn’t know he had one, but tell me, do you really think an assassin of the caliber of Oda Sakunosuke would not realize his ward had an ability that negated his own? That he wouldn’t be trained in how to use it… Most importantly, if all of this wasn’t a scheme of revenge—if he really did love you—then why did he never get rid of the flash drive that contained the proof that his journalism house published? The proof that got you thrown in prison?”

You’re crying.

Dazai’s throat swells when he sees the tears silently tracking over your cheeks. At once, he realizes that he’s never seen you cry before; he itches to reach over to you, to grab your hand or wipe away the tears. He doesn’t—partially because he doesn’t think he could move if he tried, but mostly because he knows that he’s the reason you’re crying.

He wants to assure you that none of this is true. He had nothing to do with the Guild—they kidnapped him for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know about his ability, he didn’t even know Odasaku was an assassin. And he was just… careless with the flash drive, and he shouldn’t have been, but there was always so much going on, and he was so new to having someone in his life that really loved him that he was quick to bask in it and forget everything else.

He doesn’t assure you of anything, instead he watches as Mori reaches out to do what Dazai wants to do. He brushes away your tears and turns your face to look at him, a disgustingly sympathetic look on his face.

“I know you were eager to believe that someone could love you without your ability at work influencing them, dear,” Mori murmurs, “but people like us will never find a love that pure. There will always be other factors at work sullying it—wealth, revenge, threats. You understand now what this was, don’t you?”

No, Dazai wants to scream at you. He does love you, this wasn’t some ridiculous revenge plot for family he hardly remembered until this meeting, that-

“I do.”

Dazai finally is able to make a noise when those two words leave your lips. It’s weak—something caught between a wheeze and a whimper that sounds too loud in the silent room. He feels eyes on him—Chuuya and Kouyou’s in particular. Not yours. You stare down at the table.

“Ogai-dono,” Kouyou clears her throat. “If I may… perhaps we could… send the boy away. Abroad. Ensure he never comes back to Japan so we don’t have to risk him coming back and disrupting things.”

“We could give him a seat at the table,” Chuuya interrupts, ignoring the wide-eyed look both Kouyou and Piano Man give him because of the radical idea. “We’re down an executive anyway. We tell people who he is, that he supports the new regime. It’s what you wanted to begin with, right, boss? You wanted one of the grandchildren to legitimize the passing of power. We could make it work.”

“It’s too risky.” Mori isn’t the one to speak, Piano Man is, but he doesn’t look happy to do it. “Maybe back then it could’ve worked, but the Port Mafia killed his friends and family, and hunted him down. Too much has happened, he’s an unpredictable variable that we can’t risk. We can’t trust that he’ll just accept it all, that he won’t work behind the scenes to take us down. Giving him any leverage in the organization is the last thing we should do, but what Kouyou-”

“Leave him alive and we risk everything we’ve built falling apart—a civil war igniting, Yokohama being caught in the crossfires and all of our foreign enemies crawling into the city to reap the benefits of our fall. It’s one life or hundreds—thousands, even,” Mori interrupts, voice cool. He turns his gaze onto you. “I trust you know what has to be done, dear.”

Your expression is resolved, a heavy emotion in your eyes that tells him your answer before you even speak. “Yeah, I know.”

You stand up, and Dazai knows that it’s over. When you look down at him, it’s with a type of apathy that makes his stomach twist—he’d rather hate than nothing. His lips part to speak but he pauses when you shake your head slightly, so subtly that he almost doesn’t even notice it.

“Get up,” you say flatly, and then glance at Chuuya. “Chuuya, will you…?”

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies without you even needing to finish the question. His voice is hoarse, he looks more than a little disturbed. “Yeah. Of course.”

Chuuya rises to his feet and then grabs Dazai’s bicep to pull him up to his feet too. Dazai doesn’t even have the heart to give him a dirty look in response, following along as he leads him out of the conference room and into the hallway.

For a split second, Dazai really believes that maybe you’re just trying to fool Mori, you made him think you were taking Dazai to have him killed so that you can get him out of here safely, but even once you’re out of the conference room without Mori’s eyes carefully watching you, you don’t look at him.

“Get one of the clean up crews up here,” you tell one of the guards waiting in the hall instead as you frown at your phone, typing out a quick text to someone. You pointedly ignore how alarmed they are by the offhand comment to click on the button to the elevator.

When you look back at the two of them, it’s not to look at Dazai—it’s to look at Chuuya. The two of you are having a conversation, Dazai can tell that much, and he thinks that maybe he should be putting in the effort to figure out what’s going on, what you have planned, but he’s just… tired. He’s not even sure if he cares what happens to him anymore, and he figures the worst case scenario is that he dies at your hands, and of all of the ways he could go, he thinks that would be the most preferable, because at least you would be the last thing he saw.

He doesn’t try to speak again until the three of you are in the elevator and the doors have closed.

“I-”

“Stop.”

Dazai is startled by the sharpness in your voice. He looks at you, but you’re still not looking at him, your lips are curved down as you stare at your phone, typing furiously. He glances up into the left corner of the elevator, noticing the cameras—maybe that’s why, he thinks a bit unsurely, deciding to stay quiet until out of the building.

When the elevator doors open, it’s Chuuya that urges him to keep walking by nudging his shoulder. You don’t touch him, don’t look at him. There’s nobody in the main entrance of the building, which Dazai thinks is a bit odd, but he bites back any comments he might have when he sees a black car waiting outside the building.

The doors to the building open at your approach, and Dazai inhales the crisp, fresh air greedily, not even having realized how stifled he’d felt in that room with Mori, you, and the other Port Mafia executives. He thinks maybe that you’ll sit in the backseat with him and he’ll finally be able to talk to you, but you don’t. You open the door to the passenger seat and sit there without even sparing him a glance.

Dazai’s throat starts to swell again, stopping in his tracks as he stares at where you disappeared behind the car door. Chuuya pushes him forward, not letting him linger for long—he opens the door to the backseat and pretty much manhandles Dazai into the car before taking a seat next to him.

He recognizes the person at the wheel—Albatross, your friend. He’s driven you and Dazai around before, every time Dazai gets in the car with him, he makes a sharp comment aimed to embarrass you in some manner. This time, he doesn’t even look at Dazai through the rearview mirror. He just puts the car in gear and starts driving.

A pit starts to form in Dazai’s stomach. Dazai tries to initiate conversation with you again now that you’re outside of the Port Mafia headquarters within closed quarters, nails scraping against his pants as he decides what he wants to say.

“I d-”

“Stop.”

When you cut him off now, Dazai’s stomach flips. He stares at the side of your face, trying to understand why you won’t even listen to him. You can’t actually believe what Mori was saying, you can’t. You were faking him out, tricking him into thinking you fell for it—you had to be, you have to be. You can’t possibly believe him.

“You won’t… even hear me out?” Dazai asks you quietly.

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Oh, Dazai thinks to himself, withdrawing. He stares at you for a moment before turning away stiffly, expression tight and strained as he stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by as they get closer and closer to the ports.

You believe it, he realizes dully. You believe that it was all just a scheme. You believe that everything was manufactured, that he used you for some fantastical revenge plan, that he never loved you. You believe it.

But it doesn’t make sense, he thinks desperately. He doesn’t understand how you’re not seeing through it, and if you are, why aren’t you at least giving him some hint? He should try to say something again—he knows that, but he finds himself unable to. He’s a smooth-talker, quick on his feet, but never when it comes to you—since the day he met you, he’s been fumbling over words awkwardly, but now it’s costing him everything. He finds ash in his mouth preventing him from salvaging anything he might’ve had with you.

Dig your nails in and cling, he reminds himself, but his nails have become rounded out and blunted from how long he was scratching at his pants and skin while remembering all those memories he locked away. He tries to dig his nails in and cling, but his voice fails him and his nails can’t even find purchase on your skin, you slip out of his hands as easily as an eel.

He’s going to lose you. He might’ve lost you already.

Dazai thinks that’s worse than the realization that he really might be about to die.

The car comes to a stop much quicker than Dazai had hoped, and he stiffens when you waste no time before getting out of the car. He makes no move to join you outside, and Chuuya sighs next to him.

“Get out,” Chuuya says flatly. When Dazai doesn’t budge again, Chuuya snaps, “Get out of the car-”

“-and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

Dazai draws his knees to his chest, breath becoming a bit labored as his aunt’s voice echoes in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Chuuya has gotten out of the car until Dazai’s car door is pried open. For a split second, he confuses the executive with his aunt as he’s yanked out of the car—he’s fourteen again and being abandoned by the only person he has left, and he can just barely bite back the “don’t leave me here!” that almost spills from his lips as his knees hit the ground hard.

Dazai is instantly hit with a thick scent that makes him gag. It’s noxious, almost entirely unbearable, clogs his throat to the point he almost struggles to breathe—a blend of rot, acrid chemicals, and something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sickeningly sweet. As he pushes himself to his feet, he notices you pass your gun over to Chuuya, but in that moment, Dazai is more concerned with figuring out where he is, and when he does, his stomach drops.

The dumping grounds by ports stretch endlessly under the heavy, overcast sky. Mounds of trash rose like grotesque hills patched with scraps of torn plastic and suspicious lumps that Dazai doesn’t have to get close to know what they are. The ground is uneven and treacherous—a mix of sticky mud and sharp shards of discarded glass and plastic, and pools of murky water shimmering with oil slicks.

It’s disgusting, and Dazai has a feeling it might be his final resting place.

He trails over to the side of the road and his gaze tracks down to the ground directly below him. It’s not a far drop, hardly a foot or two, and certainly less gross than some of the other parts of the area, but that’s a low bar to meet. He tears his eyes away from the scenery around him to look back at you, lips parted to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re leaning against the front of the car, watching him with an expression that Dazai can’t describe. Sad, maybe, resigned. Chuuya is back in the car, from what Dazai can tell, he's still fiddling with your gun—he wonders if this is his way of letting the two of you say goodbye in private.

“I do love you,” Dazai says. His voice cracks over the words. “No ulterior motives. No schemes. I just loved you. Love you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, eyes drawing from him somewhere over to the side like you’re looking for something, but after a moment, you look back at him, your face a little softer than it was before.

“I know,” you tell him quietly. “I know, Osamu.”

Dazai’s lips part to say something back—he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, because confusion fogs his mind. If you know, then why-

Why are you doing this?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask. The car door opens and Chuuya steps back out, he passes your gun back to you and Dazai sees you subtly slide something into his hand too, but he can’t tell what it is. You sigh as you look down at the gun before looking back up at him again, he holds his breath as you make your way closer to him.

His lashes flutter shut, expecting to feel the cool barrel of the gun against his forehead, but his breath hitches when he instead feels the familiar warmth of your hand cradling his cheek. Your fingertips are flaked with Ace’s dried blood, but Dazai still leans into your touch, eyes sliding back open to look at you.

Up close, your expression is twisted with regret and… is that fear? Dazai can’t tell, he doesn’t care, he’s more preoccupied with memorizing the image of you before he runs out of time to.

“Forgive me,” you whisper so faintly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

“I do,” he replies just as softly.

Your face crumbles as you look away. You take a step away from him, and your hand drops down from his face. Dazai instantly mourns the loss. You let out a heavy, shaky breath, sparing one last look down at the gun in your hand, one to Chuuya who stands half a step behind you, and then you look at Dazai again.

“Forgive me,” you say again, this time as you lift the gun—your voice is raspy, breath uneven.

Your fingers tremble so violently that the whole gun is unsteady, but Dazai doesn’t even care to look at it, gaze focused on your face instead.

“I do,” Dazai repeats.

You pull the trigger.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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soundwavefucker69 · 1 day ago

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I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.

awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.

she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.

after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.

we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.

she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)

I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.

mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.

my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.

I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.

my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.

anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.

Tell me a soft memory

#shrooms is talking

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ivysprophecy · 3 days ago

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bed chem

warnings; uhm sex lol? oral (male and femme recieving) very whorish thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls pls pls), brief mentions of bruising and hickeys, dirty talk. breeding kink if you squint

p. 1 | p. 3

word count; 2295

summary; jj and you have always been able to get along as long as it was in a nice comfy bed. what happens when you start to wonder if your chemistry goes beyond that?

divider by: @bernardsbendystraws

im being so for real when i say id let jj do just about anything he wanted to me.

and im not even being dramatic.

the second i can feel his lips make contact with that spot below my ear and his hands leaving finger prints on my hips, im a goner.

i dont necessarily know what it is about him specifically, and saying its our chemistry feels so icky to say but i dont know how else to describe it.

the way he hooks his thumbs through the belt loops on my shorts? like right now? yea im soaked already.

"mama you've been teasin me all night with that fucking idiot of a date- dont gotta do that baby you just gotta ask me for it."

"jj less talking more tongue."

"yes mama," he smirks up at me from his lap, his lips going back to my neck.

i have to interrupt him because i simply cant keep this shirt on my body. unfortunately i did have my cakes on so he just had to chuckle at them

"jj weve talked about this! they aren't funny!"

"baby theyre boob pancakes for your nipples its always gonna be hilarious."

" 'always' as if youre gonna see them again. how confident."

"sweetheart you say that every time. just let me give the girls some love and enjoy it, yea?" with that he starts peppering kisses all over my chest, his hands pawing at both of them.

"jesus-" the moans that come from my throat are honestly embarrassing but hes just too fucking good at this. he knows every sensitive inch on me.

its like he has me fucking memorized its insane. he feels insane.

and it doesnt help that he loves eye contact. i hate admitting that it flusters me, i dont want him knowing it takes everything in me to keep half of my dignity when he has me like this.

my fingers find the buckle of his belt doing my best to blindly work it off of his waist desperate to get whats under his pants.

im not ashamed to admit that.

"someones eager tonight," he pulls off of my chest with a noisy pop sound, smiling that signature cocky grin that i love to hate. "you gonna tell me what you want?"

i push him back onto the bed so i have easier access to his belt, more so his dick if im being honest.

"i want you to stop talking so i can get your pants off. why dont you work on that shirt for me baby?"

"well since you asked so sweetly," he chuckles throwing off his cut off while helping you get rid of his shorts. "only if you put your shorts on the floor next to mine."

"thats such a weird fucking thing to say jj what the fuck?"

"what? i thought thatd be cute."

"youre so freaking weird," you roll your eyes sliding off your shorts throwing them in whatever direction. they land next to his

jj sits there, head against the pillows watching me. i cant help but feel uneasy, im aware that i have no reason to be uncomfortable and that hes seen me this way plenty of times before but theres something in his eyes that makes me feel like hes drinking in every inch of me and its a but unsettling,

"youre so pretty. cant get enough of ya. ever," he gestures for me to come closer with his fingers before snapping and pointing to his face, "park it pretty mama."

"jj-" i start to interrupt him but he refuses any rebuttal.

"uh uh. weve talked about this. youre gonna sit on my face and im gonna eat it as much as i please. cmon now dont be shy. it doesnt suit you."

blush eats away at your cheeks as you crawl forward closer to his face, gripping the headboard for stability.

"im not shy."

"then act like it baby. now let me taste you, wanna warm you up good for me," and with those last words his arms wrap around my hips and he pulls me down so my weight is on his face.

the second his lips make contact his tongue is READY to work, and let me be clear he knows where the clit is okay? Sucking, licking, even nipping he does it all so fucking good.

all while looking up at me as i use his face like a damn chair.

my hips are desperately trying match the pace of his tongue, i can feel his nose rubbing against my clit giving me the best kind of friction im looking for.

oh my god and when he moans into me?? im done. finished. totaled. i cannot stop the sounds im making.

my legs shake beside his head, and hes staring up at me so smug, so proud of himself like his ability to make me cum was ever in question.

"see? so good for me mama was that so hard?"

i cant even get the words out, still clutching onto the headboard catching my breath. "jj-"

"ive got you dont worry," he picks me up by my waist and twists us so hes now hovering over me. "ill make you feel so good i promise."

"jj- i-" i try to take a deep breath and gather my thoughts, none of them holy obviously. "just gimme a second-"

"awe, someone overstimulated? already?"

i close my eyes and take a deep breath, because yes i do get easily overstimulated. "dont be a dick-"

"i havent even pulled it out yet."

"oh yea? lets see what you've got to say when ive got you all up in my mouth huh? lets find out baby."

i move out from underneath him and lay my head off the edge of the bed, looking at him with an excited glimmer in my eyes and my tongue sticking out.

"holy shit-" i giggle watching jj practically fall off the bed to take his boxers off, fumbling to do so. "are you serious?"

"yea jayj im serious," i say through a few laughs. "now cmere. remember you dont gotta hold back. i can take it."

"oh my god- shit. mama you keep talking like that and im not gonna last."

"i dont wanna talk jj i want your cock in my mouth," and with those final words his boxers drop to the floor. and i can see how ready is, honestly it looks painful. and i wanna make him feel all better.

my hand finds his, pulling him closer to the beds edge. once his length is over my mouth i run my tongue down his shaft, taking him into my hand and pumping what i cant reach.

"you ready for me baby?"

jj doesnt answer, he grabs my hair and tugs my head down further having me open my mouth before stuffing me full.

i can hear the groan he lets out, its guttural. and hot as fuck.

my tongue slides along his length almost asking to pull him in deeper. but he keeps still for a moment, gathering himself so he can continue.

but i know my boy. hes not gonna wait much longer to be inside me and i have no plans on arguing about it.

after a minute his hips buck forward a bit. "you good mama?"

and of course i cant really respond with his dick in my mouth. so naturally i try to take him deeper, urging him to move his hips again.

his grip on my hair tightened as he buried himself as deep as he could and slowly pulling back out.

poor guy is torturing himself! i havent even done anything, and he knows he doesnt have to go this slow.

he keeps his rhythm slow and steady, and i can feel the anticipation in his muscles restricting himself so i give his thigh a quick tap letting him know to pull away.

"jj you okay? you can go faster."

he lets a groan fall from his already pouty lips, "mama i cant handle going faster. need to be in ya when i bust."

i cant help but chuckle at his admission.

"oh baby. shouldve just said somethin. how you want me?"

i love making his eyes roll to the back of is head. but not like that weird anime shit. you know what i mean?

jj jumps back onto the mattress, back against the headboard patting his lap. "you know i want the girls all up in my face sweetheart. cmon and give me a good ride."

"yes captain," did i always say that jokingly? of course. did he always take it seriously? absolutely.

i climb over his lap, letting my knees rest against the bed sheets.

"youre still on the pill mama? or you still like the idea of me puttin a baby in ya" he looks up at me with pleading eyes, praying i am because he knows that means ill let him in bare. so fucking pussy whipped. i love it.

"jj you wouldn't be in this bed with me if i wasnt, now are you clean?" i have to ignore the baby comment because yea i really really really do.

"if you really believed i wasnt you wouldve have just tried to suck out my soul."

he does technically have a point there. "cant think straight when youre just standing there you know that jj. cmon are you clean or not?"

"youre the only one for me sweetheart. hop on, please. im beggin ya. need you so bad mama its killin me."

"'s gonna be a tight fit. 'm already so swollen down there."

"jesus," his head falls to rest on my chest and its like he all of a sudden remembers i have tits. peppering kisses all over my chest before wrapping his mouth over my nipple as i line him up. "baby you dont even know what youre saying. what its doin to me. got me so worked up im not gonna last long."

"good thing too because neither am i."

letting my weight lower onto him we moan out in unison, grabbing the hairs at the nape of his neck i hold tight as i let the sting of his size settle.

i do adjust rather quickly, seeing as hes been inside me plenty times before.

rocking my hips to start slow, i press small kisses on his hair as his grip on my hips tightens. part of me hopes i have little finger tip bruises tomorrow. they always show through my swimsuits. jj cant get enough of them.

"shit baby i need more.. cmon you can take it. its alright im not goin no where. give it to me."

fuck does he know how to talk me through it.

i raise myself a little only to leave a small drop, increasing the pace with each bounce. because holy shit he just hits that spot every damn time. sometimes i legit wonder if his dick was made for me.

then i roll my eyes at how fucking whipped i sound.

"yeaaa thats it mama. you keep that up, just how ya like it," thats the last thing he says before his thumbs starts toying with my clit and his mouth is once against attached to one of my breasts.

jjs the only guy that ive ever told that i need something else when hes inside me. never once made me feel insecure or guilty about it. in fact, i kind think he loves that he gets to play with me more.

"holy shit- jay- jay im close... you there baby?"

i can feel him nod against me so i move faster, harder, whatever i can do to chase that high im so desperately close to. and i can tell hes close to, hes got a little twitch whenever hes almost there and it feel soooo fucking good. takes me right over the edge.

"yeaaa gorgeous thats it. want me to fill you up? want me to make you my real mama?"

my head buries itself in his neck, covering it in small kisses to muffle my moans as i finish all over him.

and he's not close behind, thrusting up to meet me as i ride out mine, finishing just moments after me and i can feel him covering my insides.

and dammit if i dont wanna feel this way forever.

"so fucking good mama. made just for me i swear..." he mumbles against my chest leaving little hickeys as he catches his breath.

after a minute of just holding onto each other he slowly lowers me to the bed knowing that my legs feel like jelly.

he presses a kiss to my cheek before headed to the bathroom and grabbing us a wet washcloth. he rubs it over my thighs and my stomach and neck before cleaning me up carefully, knowing it helps me cool off afterwards.

"thank you jayj... always so sweet."

"shucks mama dont worry about it, you know ill always take care of you."

after cleaning the both of us up he grabs his muscle tank he was wearing before handing it to me so i can have some coverage while i sleep.

"want me to go out on the couch?" he wondered. always so thoughtful.

"dont be stupid. climb on in big boy."

his stupid sleepy smile is so freakin cute, i hate it.

"night jj."

"night sweetheart. love ya."

i know he says it every time. every night in fact. so why when he tells me that does it put a pit in my stomach?

and just like that, with his arms around me, hes peacefully asleep and im wide awake wondering what the fuck im doing.

#fic recs <3 #dic recs <3 #jj maybank need you by my side #mdni #my writing <3 #jj maybank fics #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #short n sweet

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gooobraghhh · 2 days ago

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Getting into the idea of forcemasc in a very st4t way. I mean I basically get to build my perfect boyfriend. I’ll dutifully make sure to administer your t shot every week, in nothing more than my underwear of course. After each shot I’ll be a good girlfriend and give you a nice and long blowjob to encourage bottom growth, instructing you how to hold my hair and push my mouth down into you like a proper man receiving oral.

I think I’d frequent your lap, sitting in it while I squeeze your rapidly developing muscles, examining your new facial hair, and telling you how hot you’re getting on t, how handsome you look with your new scruffy beard and how attractive your muscles are. There’s a good chance I’ll be grinding on you while I shower you with praise and with your new looks being so evidently attractive to a pretty girl like me why would you ever stop getting all manly for me.

I think your muscle growth would be a big part of it for me. I’d initiate a lot of play fights so that you can see how much stronger than me you’re getting, so that you know how good it feels to pin me down with your arms. I’ll watch you get flustered when you win, just to grab your hand and bring it to my hips or throat, telling you exactly what to do to me while staring at you with an expression that lets you know I’m still in control as always.

Then I’ll just reap the rewards of my work. Training you to grind your growing dick against my ass while I feel those strong arms of yours pin me to the bed. Then having you switch to a strap so I can get properly serviced by the man of my making. I’ll make sure to tell you how good you’re fucking me, instructing you the whole time, praising you when you do it in just the right way to make me cum and letting you know how good it feels when you fuck me like the man you are. In return I’ll make sure my boy toy gets all the blowjobs and handjobs he needs to be satisfied. If you feel extra kinky and want me to peg you now and again I’ll make sure to fuck you in your ass while I tell you how handsome you are.

I want to brag to other girls how good you’ve gotten in bed, how much you rock my world at night. Watch their jealous faces when I cling to my eye candy boyfriend in public. With how I’ve shaped you I’m sure there will be lots of girls trying to steal you for themselves but I know you know who you belong to. You’re mine, my perfect man to play with, and isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to be

#trans nsft #mtf dom #t4t nsft #mtf nsft #ftm ns/fw #ftm nsft #ftm sub #ftm puppy #ftm top #mtf bottom #force masc #gooobraghhh text #forcemasc

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rokkit-story-time · 2 days ago

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"L-look, I just... I wanted to chill out for a few days, yeah? Cats are a good form for that!"

I nodded slowly as I kept petting. The slow, gentle strokes along his fur seemed to be helping. "And now you've forgotten... how your power works?"

"No!" It was less a shout and more a whine. I decided to assume it was the cat body changing the quality of the voice. "I... I don't have a 'default' or anything, you know? I don't just 'shift back' to my original self, I actively turn *into* it each time. A-and now I'm..." They tuck their nose between their paws. "...I can't picture what I looked like clearly enough to change..."

Oh. "I have some pictures of us from a year or two back. Would that help?"

He looked up at me and blinked, then lowered his head back onto the couch. "Yeah... yeah that should be enough to go off of. Now all the panic feels a little silly..."

I didn't reach for my wallet right away. "I mean, you couldn't have known when I'd come over."

"Yeah, I guess, but even if it was a little uncanny, I could've turned back into something with hands and sent you a message asking..."

"...so why didn't you?" There was something else here. I could feel it. So I started nudging. "And before you say you were panicking too much, you've been silent for *days*. That doesn't seem like a short-term lapse in judgement."

"W-well, I was still enjoying being a cat up until yesterday!" The protest was weak; there *was* something else going on. "A-and..."

"And... you didn't want to change back?" I offered.

"No! M-maybe?" They tensed like they wanted to flee, but slowly relaxed again under my continued reassuring scritches. "I want to change back into a *human* again, b-but..."

I looked at them with a smile and nodded. "But...?"

They looked at me, then shifted to rest their chin on my leg. "...remember last year? At that club event?"

They paused, so I nodded and continued for them. "I wanted a possible hookup and you decided the discount was worth it, so we ditched the faux-het-couple routine by you turning into a girl." I tried to keep any smugness out of my encouraging smile. They were different that night, and no amount of excuses had made me forget just how.

"W-well, I, um... th-that was the first time I'd ever done that." They refused to look at me, but I nodded anyway. "But it... w-wasn't the last? I-I mean, it was the last in... in public..."

They seemed to have trouble continuing, so I offered another nudge. "...but sometimes you'd do it again in private...?"

"...yeah. I... I tried out different looks and body types. A few of them I really liked. And sometimes, I... I caught myself wishing I could wear a look all the time. While going about my life, you know?"

"...why can't you~?"

They raised their head, and even the cat features managed to look utterly incredulous. "What, do you want me to out myself as a shifter!? Or are you suggesting I fake my own death or something?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I shook my head. "Nothing that dramatic! C'mon, you can be subtle. Call up a therapist, talk about your feelings a bit, get a prescription for some new medication..."

"...so like... actually transition...?"

I nodded. "If that's how you feel, then yeah." My smile widened as I scritched under their chin for a moment. "In case it wasn't clear, I'm here for you and will always support you fully. And I say you should do what feels right!"

"M-maybe. But that whole plan feels, I dunno... a little disingenuous?"

"So you can pass better than most and won't actually need any HRT or any surgery. Does that change who you want to be?"

She laid there for a long moment before responding. "...no..."

I nodded, still alternating between head scritches and long pets down her body. "...have a name in mind~?"

"...Coral..."

"Damn, you picked a pretty one~" I flopped back against the couch. "You've really been thinking about this ever since that night at the club, huh?"

"...yeah..." She was silent for a few more moments before speaking up again. "...sorry. I... I should've talked to you about it before now. I kept meaning to! But there was always some excuse I'd give myself, and then I wouldn't be able to speak up, and..."

I just nodded. "I get it. Kind of a shame, though... I could've asked you out waaay sooner."

"You... what!?" Watching the cat body language take over as she suddenly leapt up and backwards made it *really* hard not to laugh, but I held it down.

"Well yeah, remember how I kept saying I wanted to make sure I only left with the cutest girl at the club? Well, the cutest girl at the club that night was *you*. But I couldn't just say, 'hey you should turn yourself into a girl more so we can date' or anything. Glad I didn't too, or I wouldn't get the chance to see what other cute looks you've grown attached to~"

"Y-yeah, I-I guess you're right!" The panic in Coral's voice was similar to when I'd first gotten there, but somehow much more gay this time. "I uhhh, I should probably go change then!"

I patted my pocket as she dashed for the stairs. "Need that picture~?"

She stopped. "...no. Not right now, at least." She looked back at me with what I could only assume was the cat version of an emotional smile. It was *adorable*. "Thank you~"

I just nodded again as she turned and zoomed up the stairs, excited to see what she might look like when she came back down.

Your friend, a shapeshifter (a secret you've kept since childhood) hasn't answered your texts in days, so you head to their home. Upon arriving, you find that they're in the middle of an existential crisis; they can't remember how to turn back into their original, human form.

#first person narration #my writing #writing prompts #transfem #lesbian narrator

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beloveds-embrace · 1 day ago

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I read your distress from the DukeDom 141 AU and....ajbslywbsoauwjs

You have broken the system, I LOVE the anguish when somehow karma acts and there is divine justice (and König it's divine 🫦🫦🫦)

Do you have some more crumbs for this hungry girl? Pretty please with sprinkles on top? 🥺🥺🫶🏼✨️✨️✨️

Thank you!! The anon who sent the angst ask is just so damn big brained. Phenomenal i hope they know their impact. Enjoy!! 💕💕💕

John stares at you, his eyes unreadable and a little frown on his face. Embers within the fireplace crackle, keeping the study warm against the November chill, while rain pelts against the windows. Despite it being only 2 in the afternoon, the sky is dark and cloudy enough to be mistaken for late evening.

You wait patiently, standing in front of his desk with your hands in front of you. Your face is colder than his.

“So?” You ask at last.

“…why?”

Your eyes close for a few seconds, and then you open them. Your purse your mouth, and then speak.

“Because I want one.” You say, shrugging delicately. “I will be back before the annual winter gala. All work has been finished and submitted, and what can’t be done now has been appropriately delegated with your approval. As such, I would like to go on a holiday, just for a few weeks.”

None of that is an issue, John thinks to himself. You are so cold now, dear wife. Colder than I’ve treated you. None of that is an issue except-

“Who will be you taking with you-“

“König.” You don’t hesitate for a single second. To John, it feels like you are attempting to match the attitude of thunder and lightning outside. “He will be my knight, as he’s always been. I care not for what others guards may join. The estate I’ve chosen already has maids and cooks to upkeep it, yes? That should be everything.”

John wants to say no.

There’s been a shift in you, and he knows they are to blame yet he so terribly dislikes it. König has become your… everything, in a sense. The maids already whispered about you and didn’t help you, and so now you care very little about what they’d say about König being the one to help you get ready for the day. He is your shadow; he brings you food himself, John knows, has seen Johnny grit his teeth and bite his tongue so he doesn’t say how ashamed he feels that he’s made someone feel like they can’t eat his food.

It is aslo König who holds your arm, and takes you on walks. König who listens to what you want, what you ask for, and doesn’t treat you as an afterthought. The one and only time you have spoken to Kyle lately is to simply ask him if he knows where König is.

König was close to you in the way John had been distant to you. In the way all of them had been distant to you.

Now, it feels like you are keeping the distance, despite their attempts at fixing this. It feels like König is keeping the distance, your second shadow. John isn’t blind to the hatred König carries for them, isn’t blind to the possessive way König holds your hands.

And your waist. John had heard how you called out König’s name, one night. He’d seen the delicate way you’d had to sit, seen the way König had been fussing over you.

The implications left his mouth bitter for the rest of the day.

And now….

He wants to say no. He truly does. But if he does it, then he knows he will be subjecting you to more pain. It would mean keeping you here with König, and John having to see it all.

“Very well.” He sighs at last, something green and tight curdling in his stomach. He doesn’t acknowledge it. “I will make sure everything will be ready for you, wife.”

“Thank you.”

And not once do you look at him with that warm, special smile you have only for König.

#noona.asks #cod x reader #cod #cod x you #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x you #cod imagines #konig x you #konig x reader #konig drabble #poly 141

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simjaexy · 1 day ago

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HELLO BEAUTIFUL I saw the MV of boxer enha AND LEMME TELL YOU BOXER SUNGHOON 😩 so I was wondering if you can make a drabble of Boxer! Sunghoon and reader and they get in to A LOT of sexy stuff? 😚 ALSO like a mean Dom Sunghoon? <3

Have a nice day pretty

Pairing ⇀ Boxer! Park Sunghoon x (F) Reader

Synopsis ⇀ You decided to visit Sunghoon at his boxing practice. But upon seeing him practice, you couldn’t help but feel a sexual way watching him practicing so focused and determined. So what happens when you decide to tease him while he’s practicing?

Genre ⇀ Pure Smut

Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cursing, Sunghoon and reader are both a tease, Making out, Mean Dom! Sunghoon x Sub! Reader, Blowjob, Eating out, Humiliation, Overstimulation (f), Receiving (m&f), Doggy style, No protection (wrap it up), Cum swallowing, Multiple orgasms, Hickeys, Crying, Biting, Semi-public sex, Rough sex, Name calling (slut, good girl, etc.), Fingering, lmk if i missed anything!

W.c ⇀ 2.1k

A/n ⇀ You don’t even ask twice for that because I’m LIVING for Boxer Sunghoon. Kind of made it longer than I anticipated but I hope it meets your standards bb. If you would like to be on the perm tag list click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, and etc! Not proofread!

You arrived at Sunghoons boxing gym, the air thick with the sounds of fists hitting punching bags and the occasional grunts of other men there. The rhythmic thudding of gloves against leather filled the room. You decided to pay Sunghoon a visit at his practice matches. It wasn’t everyday you get to see him in action.

As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately started searching for Sunghoon. And when you finally saw him, in the middle of the ring, his body glistening with sweat, muscles rippling under his tank top, focus etched deeply into his brow. He moved with precision and power. His focus was unbreakable, each punch thrown with skill and intensity. You assumed he didn’t noticed you with how focused he was.

You couldn't help but admire him, his dedication and strength evident in every movement. That’s when he finally glanced up and saw you standing there, a smile spreading across his face. He glanced back at the guy who he was practicing with, giving a him a dab before quickly making his way over to you, his eyes lighting up with happiness.

"Hey, you," He said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss, "Didn’t think you would actually make it."

You gave him a teasing smile, your heart skipping a beat at the brief but sweet gesture, “Wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, you promised you’d take me out to dinner after.”

Sunghoon gave you a little chuckle, “Of course pretty. Just give me a few more minutes.” He spoke, his voice low. You felt slickness between your legs and mentally cursed yourself for feeling sexual i a public area.

But then again, you couldn’t help yourself with the way he stares at you, as if he wanted the other men know that he owns you. Sunghoon gave one last look at you, sending a wink before heading back to the ring, his focus shifting back to his training.

You watched him, mesmerized by the way he moved, each punch and dodge executed with perfect form. You didn’t notice the gym started to empty out, the sounds of practice gradually fading as people left for the day.

With the gym now almost empty, you decided to have a little fun. You walked over to the edge of the ring, leaning against the ropes as you called out to him, "Hey, champ, need a break?"

Sunghoon looked over at you, a playful smirk on his face, he knew exactly what you were trying to do, “Are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe," you replied, your tone teasing, "Or maybe I just want to see if you can handle a little distraction."

He chuckled, stepping out of the ring and walking over to you, "Oh, I can handle it. The question is, can you?"

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across your face, "Why don't you come find out?"

Sunghoon closed the distance between you, his eyes locked on yours. You leaned in, feeling hit hot breath fanning your lips. But just as your lips were about to touch, he smirked and gently pushed you back.

"Not so fast," He teased, his voice low, "I've still got some training to do."

You stood there, stunned. What the fuck? As he turned and walked back to the ring. He glanced over his shoulder with a wink, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You hated when he did that, "Patience, love," He said, before resuming his practice, leaving you both flustered and confused.

You watched him with a pout on your unkissed lips. But you couldn’t help but feel like getting him back. Besides, he deserves it right. You knew Sunghoon like the back of your hand, it’ll be easy getting him all hot and bothered.

After a few minutes, you decided to turn up the heat. You slowly took off your jacket, letting it drop to the floor, "Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?" You asked, your voice carrying a hint of innocence.

Sunghoon didn't look at you, but he nodded, his focus still on his training, “Yeah, it's pretty warm. The guys don’t really like the cold here."

You frowned not seeing him look at you. That’s when you suddenly got an idea and grinned, deciding to take it a step further. You tucked your shirt up a bit, revealing your stomach, just enough to catch his attention, "Hey, Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

This time, he stopped mid-punch and turned to look at you. His eyes widened seeing the sight of you. Jacket on the floor with you leaning backwards with your stomach peaking out. One more tuck up then your bra would be in view. A pink dust spread across his cheeks as he took in the thought of you like that. It was quiet for a few seconds before he snapped and made eye contact with you.

"What... what is it?" He stammered, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him, "Oh, nothing important. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention."

Sunghoon shook his head, a huff coming out, as if he was controlling himself. As if he doesn’t wanna fall for your tricks, “You definitely have my attention now," He admits.

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of pride, “Well I don’t think I need it anymore. You can go back to practicing.” You mumbled, but Sunghoon heard you. He nodded, knowing that if he spoke his voice would definitely sound needy. So, he continued practicing once again.

You decided to unclip your bra and take it off, also dropping that on the floor. Your perky nipples in clear view. You felt the room thicken within seconds. You slowly led your hand towards your cloth core, rubbing your wet folds, letting out a soft moan.

Sunghoon let out a pained groan and rubbed his neck, probably because he dodged so many punches from the other guy earlier. That's when he looked over at you and saw you rubbing your folds and fiddling with your perky nipples, letting out pitiful moans. Your eyes were closed, clearly not noticing him stopping and staring right at you.

The sight in front of him definitely made him rock hard. Fuck. Finally, without warning, Sunghoon ripped off his gloves and tossed them to the ground. His sudden movement startled you, and before you could react, he was striding towards you with a lustful hard look in his eyes. Your heart raced as he closed the distance between you in a matter of seconds.

His hands found your waist, and he pulled you against him with a roughness that took your breath away. Before you could utter a word, his lips crashed into yours, demanding and intense. The kiss was fierce, filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire he'd been holding back.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss. You let out a whimper feeling one of his legs push in between yours.

You immediately began grinding down, feeling your core brush against your underwear. It felt so good. Sunghoon gripped one of your breasts, squeezing them harshly. You broke the kiss and let out a loud moan.

You didn’t have time to react when Sunghoon dragged you to a mat that was laying down not far from you guys. He pushed you down on the mat, your back hitting it roughly. You let out a pained whimper before feeling Sunghoon get on top you.

“You wanna fucking act like a slut? Bothering me while I’m practicing for a big match.” He snapped. You gave him an innocent smile, your eyes fluttering. Fuck, you really like pissing him off. He didn’t waste any time sucking on your neck, hickeys forming. You squirmed and let out a mewl when he bit down.

“H-Hoonie- hic!- hurts!” You cried out. Sunghoon paid no mind to you. This is what you wanted right? He licked the bite mark gently before lifting his head up again. You felt intimidated by his intense gaze, looking away in humiliation, but Sunghoon was having any of that. He forcefully grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.

“If you wanna get fucked good then you’re gonna suck my dick.” He growled. You bit your lip and with teary eyes, you nodded. You didn’t waste a second, pulling down his sweats to see his cloth dick. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his dick springing free, slapping his stomach.

You softly wrapped your hands around it, stroking it lazily. Sunghoon watched you with an unreadable expression, almost as if he was bored. So, you opened your mouth, granting him full access to your mouth and putting his dick in. You let in a moan feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your face close to his pubic hair.

Sunghoon didn’t give a warning when he suddenly gripped your hair and took his dick out and pushed back in making you gag. Although you were slapping his thigh, he continued to thrust inside your mouth at a rough pace. You felt tears gather in your eyes again. Sunghoon loved it.

You heard his groans and curses and felt his dick twitch inside your mouth, indicating he was close. He gave out three more thrust before cumming deep in your throat. Sunghoon let out a hiss, taking his dick out of your mouth.

“Open.” He demanded. You opened your mouth, showing him you swallowed everything. He gave you a soft smile and rubbed your head, “Good girl.”

You couldn’t speak when he suddenly pushed you back down making you yelp. He slid off your shorts and underwear revealing your wet pussy. He licked his lips, his eyes gazing with lust. Before he could do anything, you held his head, “Shit, wait Sunghoon. W-We’re in public.” You whispered. Sunghoon paused and stared at you.

“You now noticed that after you sucked me off?” He said. You whined and Sunghoon sighed. He can’t say no to you, “I’ll make it fast.” He added. Besides, he really wanted to taste your sweet pussy.

He didn’t wanna hear you say anymore and flicked his tongue against your bud. You covered your mouth, but your moan was still heard. Sunghoon let out an ‘hmm’ tasting your sweet pussy. He noticed you covering your mouth and gave you a slap on your thigh. You stared at him dazed, “I wanna hear you.” He said.

You nodded and uncovered your mouth, feeling too drunk off of pleasure to say no. He then continued to lick your pussy. He sucked on your bud before licking your hole. You let out sighs and pants when he all of a sudden stuck a finger inside you while he was suckling on your bud.

“Oh god! s’good!” You moaned. You felt saliva dripping down your lips, but didn’t care to wipe it off. Sunghoon hums vibrated against your pussy and that’s when you felt your orgasm coming.

“Gonna cum! Cumming-“ You let out one last time before coming undone on Sunghoon tongue. He licked your juices, taking his finger out. You panted shaky and weak.

Sunghoon flipped you over, aligning his dick at your entrance. He slowly pushed in, making you both moan in unison. You squirmed under him, feeling overstimulated. Sunghoon chuckled, “Looks like my good girl can’t take it.”

You shook your head, “No! I-I can. Please Sunghoon- fuck me!” You begged. Sunghoon's eyes turned dark. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening when you felt him push deep inside you, knocking the air out of you.

The sound of loud skin slapping echoed in the gym. Someone had to have heard you guys. You let out loud moans and whimpers, feeling him so deep in you. Both of your bodies sticky with sweat. God the smell of sex was unbearable.

Sunghoon gripped your waist hard. He knows they’ll be bruised later on, and he fucking loves it. You arch your back more, giving Sunghoon even deeper access if it was even possible. His dick felt too good in you. It’s like your pussy was made for him.

You felt your orgasm coming, “H-Hoonie m’gonna cum again- ah!” You screamed, your orgasm crashing. Sunghoon threw his head back and came seconds later, his cum spurting inside. You felt so full.

He took his now soft dick out and pulled up his sweatpants and boxers. He helped you up and gave you a towel so you can fix yourself up. After you were done you noticed Sunghoon already having his bag in his hand. You smiled at him softly. Sunghoon smiled back, feeling his heart race. He loved your afterglow.

You both walked out the gym, hand in hand. You didn’t know gym sex was something you wanna plan on doing again, but when Sunghoon kisses your hand gently and gives you a loving look, who are you to complain?

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aewon · 2 days ago

Text

all night, in love — YJW

pairing- jungwon x fmr genre: fluff, e2l, fake dating ⚠️: kissing, cursing, slight slight very tiny angst (practically nonexistent) wc: 3k

You hate Yang Jungwon, and he hates you too.

The reason? You ACCIDENTALLY tripped him in front of his crush in 9th grade. You never knew someone could hold such a grudge for something that wasn’t on purpose.

Ever since that day, Jungwon has made it his life mission to make you miserable.

He doesn’t do anything physical, he just makes annoying, mean jabs at you whenever he can, which you don’t hesitate to fire back.

What you never expected was for him to come up to you, asking for a favor.

“A favor? Why would I ever want to help you?” You scoff at his audacity, turning away from him on the bench you’re currently occupying.

He doesn’t go away, instead sitting next to you on the other side, facing you.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” When you look at him, he’s pouting, something that’s never been directed toward you.

He almost looks…cute?

“Anything?” You ask, not concealing the smirk gracing your face.

“… As long as it’s nothing super crazy, yes.”

You ponder for a moment, what could you possibly need from Yang Jungwon.

“I’ll help you, but I’m not telling you what you’re doing until after we’re done! So what exactly is it that you need?”

Jungwon suddenly looks away from you, biting his lip as if he’s afraid to say it.

“Well? We don’t have all day.”

He looks down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs before finally speaking, “I need you to date me.”

You almost spit out the sip of coffee you just took.

“What?”

“Look, you know Yoona, right?”

You nod, having met the girl before in science class.

“I have a huge crush on her but she never notices any of my attempts to talk to her or engage so I figured if I’m dating someone, that’ll make her notice. Everyone knows we don’t like each other so it’ll make a huge spectacle.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his rhetoric.

“Everyone knows we don’t like each other, so they’ll definitely believe we just started dating? That makes no sense, Jungwon. Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

“We can say it was all a ruse! We just didn’t want people knowing how much we like each other so we pretended to have a fued instead.”

“Still doesn’t make sense. Our friends and peers aren’t stupid, they’ll see right through us.”

“Not if we’re convincing! We’re talking right now, right? Not arguing. We’ll just tell everyone we decided to come clean. Please do this for me, you know I’d never bother you with something like this otherwise.”

That is true, and although you can’t ever imagine yourself liking someone like Jungwon, it’s fake.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jungwon, for the first time, gives you a genuine smile. One that’s not devolving into a sneer or fake.

“So, what do we do now?” He asks.

“Do you have any boundaries you don’t want crossed?”

He shakes his head, “I want this to be believable.”

Without warning, you tug him forward by his shirt, planting your lips on his.

You don’t open your eyes to see if he’s shocked or not, but soon you feel his lips moving with yours.

His large hand travels to cup the side of your face.

You don’t know how long you’re kissing for, or rather making out at this point, but you’re interrupted by the bell ringing.

As you pull away, Jungwon looks as if he’s in a daze.

Your eyes look around the courtyard and multiple people are staring at you, looking away quickly when they realize they’ve been caught.

“Bye boyfriend, I’ll see you later.” You wink, getting up from the bench and leaving to go to class.

The end of the school day comes quicker than not, and you wait outside for your friend Ningning so you can drive her home.

A hand comes to rest on your waist, and you turn to find Jungwon standing beside you.

“I figured I’d get your number now so none of our friends suspect us.”

You nod, taking his phone and putting your number in, texting yourself quickly.

You save his number in your own phone as “wonnie ❤️” while he saves yours as “babe 🩷.”

“You drive Ningning to school right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll start driving the both of you, just text me your address and I’ll pick you up first tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, we should also figure out some kind of timeline for this relationship. When do we wanna say this started?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “A few months ago? Not too specific but not suspicious either. We could say after a while the dislike toward one another became tired and we decided to be friends which then developed into a relationship.”

“And why did we hide it?”

“Because we were embarrassed.” He shrugs and you nod along.

“Sounds good, we can figure out details later.”

Out in the parking lot, his group of friends are all staring at you. “I should get home,” Jungwon says, “we’re all hanging at my place and I know they’re dying to ask me about us.”

“Call me tonight?”

He nods, wrapping you up in a hug, pulling away to kiss your lips.

You can’t help but like the feeling of his lips on yours, or maybe it’s because you haven’t felt the kiss of someone in so long.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re obsessed with my lips. You like kissing me.” Jungwon smirks at your reddening cheeks.

“Please, it’s just been a while. The feeling is nice is all,” you respond, pushing him lightly.

He raises his hands in surrender before walking away, toward his friends whose eyes are on him like a hawk.

“What the actual fuck is going on!” You hear Ningning from a mile away as she quickly approaches you, “Why the hell did I have to find out from Minji that you and Jungwon are dating?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

Ningning doesn’t hesitate to ask a million and one questions about your newfound relationship, and you answer to the best of your abilities without making too many plot holes.

You tell her about the new arrangement with Jungwon picking you both up which she agrees to easily.

After dropping her off, you make your way home to relax and de-stress.

You shower before changing into more comfortable clothes.

Your parents won’t be home for a while so you sit on the couch, watching Netflix with an after school snack.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you open your eyes, you’re in your room and not on the couch.

You check for your phone, finding it on the nightstand beside you.

The time reads 8:00pm and you sigh. Now you’ll be up all night.

Your phone begins to ring, Jungwon’s name popping up.

“Hello,” you say, grogginess evident in your voice.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I just woke up. I fell asleep after school, my dad must’ve moved me from the couch to my bed.”

“Okay, good. Did Ningning bombard you with questions? Because my friends did.”

“She absolutely did. I stuck with our plan and tried to avoid any personal questions.”

“Speaking of, I figured we should learn more about each other if we’re gonna make this work.”

You agree and begin asking each other questions.

Favorite color, hobbies, family info, things that a couple should know about one another.

You learn that you and Jungwon actually have a lot in common. You both love action movies, dogs, cats, food of course among other things.

It feels very normal talking to him like this, and not arguing or making jabs at each other.

It feels like you’ve been on the phone forever, checking the time as it reads 10:00pm.

“We’ve been on the phone for 2 hours. It’s crazy how quickly time passes.”

You hum, feeling yourself start to get tired again.

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon asks, and you hum once more.

“Then we should cut this call here, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The only response Jungwon gets is your quiet breathing on the other end, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.

He smiles on his end, ending the call before going to sleep himself.

The next morning, Jungwon texts you that he’ll be there to pick you up at 7:15, then you’ll swing by Ningning’s.

You get ready quietly, deciding to dress up a bit.

When Jungwon arrives, you get in the passenger's side of his car, wishing him good morning.

“Morning,” he says before kissing your cheek.

You smile, side eyeing him slightly, “You know you don’t have to kiss me when we’re not around others.”

You see his cheeks flush pink, “I know, but I figured it’s better to be as natural as possible.”

“Ah, okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just like kissing me,” you say, throwing his words from yesterday back at him.

“Pft!”

You playfully argue all the way to Ningning’s house.

When she gets in the car, she greets you and Jungwon like this is a normal occurrence.

You talk with Ningning the rest of the way to school, with Jungwon chiming in every once in a while.

When you arrive, Ningning leaves first, needing to see a teacher before class.

You and Jungwon get out, and he takes your hand in his larger one while he carries both your bag and his.

“Who knew you were such a sweetheart?” You laugh as he glares at you halfheartedly.

The cafeteria is where students wait for class to start if they’re at school early, so you and Jungwon find a quiet corner to occupy.

His friends come in and make their way to you.

They all greet you, albeit hesitantly as if this is all still one big prank.

You realize you’ve never taken the time to get to know any of them either, just associating them with Jungwon.

They’re actually very funny, making you laugh freely.

When the bell rings, everyone disperses.

Jungwon kisses you goodbye before handing you your bag and making his way to class while you do the same.

In class, you’re just doing self work, but people still talk quietly.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice says from beside you.

You look up to see Yoona, the girl Jungwon was talking about.

“Hey Yoona, what’s up?” You whisper, trying not to draw any attention.

“I just wanted to ask you… since when have you and Jungwon been dating?”

She’s asking, that must mean she’s at least somewhat interested, right? This could be good for Jungwon.

“A few months. We just didn’t tell anyone cause we were kinda embarrassed.”

“Ah, I see. Good for you.”

You thank her and she goes back to her work while you do the same.

During lunch, which you unfortunately don’t share with Jungwon, you text him about Yoona.

“That’s cool, our plan must be working 😈,” he responds.

You eat with Ningning, gossiping as you always do.

Later on, Ningning texts you to tell you she won’t need a ride home. She has a project to work on with a classmate so they’re going to her house.

That leaves you and Jungwon alone in his car at the end of the day.

“Do you wanna come over?” He asks.

“Sure.”

The drive to his home is quiet, but he stops at the coffee shop to get you both something.

Your large caramel macchiato is delicious and you promise to pay Jungwon back but he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing’s too much for my girl.”

You don’t know why your heart beats so fast when he says that.

Arriving at his home, you leave your backpack in his car. He invites you inside and a white ball of fluff greets you eagerly.

It’s a dog and it sniffs you before jumping on your legs.

“This is Maeum,” Jungwon says, picking up the dog. “He likes meeting new people.”

“Hi Maeum!” You take the dog into your arms and he nuzzles into you immediately.

After he’s been put down, Jungwon takes you to his room.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” He asks, and you agree.

He lets you choose and you pick a recently released action film.

As you lay on his bed, Jungwon puts his arm around you, pulling you close.

The sunlight from outside shines into the room, illuminating it in a beautiful glow.

As Jungwon seems to be entirely grossed in the movie, you take the opportunity to look at him.

His dark hair is fluffy, his bangs laying on his forehead.

His jaw is sharp even as he’s relaxed and his eyes are big and wide, watching the screen intently.

You admire his face, his nose is long and big, something you’ve always found attractive.

His lips are plump and so, so kissable as you already know.

You can’t help it, you take his face into your hand, turning it towards you.

“What?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You lean forward, connecting your lips with his.

He responds immediately, pressing harder.

You move before you even realize it, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him.

You’re making out eagerly, running your hands through his hair while his hands travel down your back to eventually rest on your thighs.

His tongue meets yours as it gets hotter inside the room.

You don’t know how long you spend there, your body pressed against his.

By the time you separate, both your lips and his are red and swollen.

Jungwon’s eyes are narrowed as they stare at you.

“What?”

“You must really like me or something,” he says, giggling as you hit his chest before moving to get off him.

“No,” he stops you, “stay here.”

You end up laying on top of him.

It’s quiet and he’s playing with your hair, gently, trying not to disturb you.

Time passes and before you know it, it’s 8:00 pm.

“I have to go home,” you tell Jungwon, who whines in protest.

“Don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungwon concedes, and you both get up so he can drive you home.

The drive is quick and he’s bidding you goodbye, not before giving you a kiss.

After doing your night routine, you lay in bed, thoughts full of Jungwon.

It’s only been two days since your plan started but you feel different.

You feel happier, happier than you already were.

Is it because of Jungwon? You feel like the answer is obvious but you’re too afraid to admit it.

The next couple of days follow the same routine. You and Jungwon meet in the morning and hang out after school.

He takes you out for ice cream and coffee, takes you to the local park to have a picnic and more.

This fake relationship starts to feel more and more real everyday.

“Heeseung is hosting a party tomorrow, do you wanna go?” Jungwon asks, watching the tv while you pay attention to your phone.

You look up, “Sure.”

Jungwon hums in acknowledgment, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

You unknowingly lean into his chest.

The next day, Saturday, you do nothing until it’s time to get ready for the party.

You find a pretty dress in your closet, one that’s not too revealing but just enough.

You text Jungwon a picture.

y/n: what do you think :p

wonnie ❤️: you look beautiful 🥰 i’ll be there in 5

In the car, you and Jungwon agree to stick together and send a text if you get separated.

The party is already thriving by the time you arrive.

You and Jungwon hold hands, walking through and greeting people.

You find the other guys in the kitchen, pouring drinks.

They greet you cheerfully, handing you a drink of something. You don’t know what it is, but it tastes good so you don’t complain.

You and Jungwon make your way to the dance floor, where your bodies are pressed against one another tightly.

After some time, you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to come with you? I’ll stand outside?” Jungwon asks but you shake your head.

“I’ll be fine.”

Heeseung directs you to the bathroom upstairs.

You pass by people on your way there.

The light isn’t on and you knock, no one answers.

Once you deem it safe, you enter.

You lock the door and do your business.

After washing your hands, you make your way back downstairs.

Before you re-enter the living room, you hear two voices that sound familiar.

You choose to ignore it, wanting to find Jungwon.

You search for him for 5 minutes before giving up.

Making your way to the backyard, it’s empty, to your relief.

You sit on the outside table, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Jungwon says from behind you.

“I was looking for you too but I got impatient after 5 minutes.” You laugh as he takes a seat beside you.

“Yoona came up to me,” he says.

“Oh? What’d she have to say?”

Jungwon takes a deep breath in, “She confessed to me.”

Oh.

“Oh? That’s…great, no? This is what you wanted. That means we can end this whole thing and—”

“I rejected her,” Jungwon says firmly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But the whole plan was to get her to fall for you, I don’t understand?”

“I rejected her because I realized that I really like you. I know it’s only been a couple of days but you’re nothing like I thought you were. We feuded because I was being petty. I never took the time to really get to know you. You’re…amazing, to put it lightly. You’re smart and kind, funny, we have so much in common and at this point I don’t see myself with anyone except you.”

You reel in Jungwon’s confession. Here you thought he was going to break everything off.

“Jungwon, I like you too, a lot.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, “You do?”

“Yeah, I’ve realized how sweet and kind you are. The thought of you being with Yoona made me crazy but I didn’t want to get hurt by rejection.”

“Well you don’t have to worry. You have me, no matter what.”

He kisses you, fiery and passionately.

The next day as you walk hand in hand with Jungwon around town, you think you’ve hit the jackpot.

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