#if the smile didnt make that obvious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months

Text

need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

2K notes · View notes

thestarsarebrightertonight · 4 months

Text

get it off your chest , get it off my desk // theodore nott x fem ravenclaw reader

playlist: lavender haze - taylor swift , cruel summer - taylor swift

summary: theodore nott always tormented you , teased you. you never knew why and until now you didnt care , even harboring a small secret crush on him- but when his whole demeanor switches to that of affection and love notes. your confusion and anger becomes overwhelming.

y/n used , ravenclaw reader , fluff , comedy/cringey , bullying , theos annoying , swearing , not proofread

masterlist

"got your nose in a book again y/n, shakespeare poems? wow a romantic. its sad yknow, no wonder you dont have any friends." theodore nott smirked as he slapped the book in your hands out of them and onto the floor.

"fuck off nott she does have friends , im literally right here." your best friend - lisa turpin - sneered at the boy , throwing him the deadliest of glares.

"ah turpin didnt spot you there. not surprised i didnt spot you considering youre so irrelevant, youre practically see through." theodore looked at her coldly , his foot stomping on your book on the floor to stop you from retrieving it.

"nott , get your foot off my book!" you exclaimed , theo turning to you with a overdramatic shock.

"so she does speak! i thought you were mute or something little y/n" he laughed , all of his friends hollering behind him. it really wasnt that funny.

"we talk practically everyday because all you do is fucking harrass me!" you fumed.

"hey hey hey! dont swear sweetheart , its so unlady like!" he pretended to be offended , his smug smile betraying him.

"fuck off nott and just leave me alone, its been 5 years and im truly wonder when you will LEAVE ME ALONE!!" you emphasised the last few words , screaming at him before grabbing lisas hand and storming down the corridor.

theodore could only stare after your figure with a satisfied smile. it was obvious that theo had never been one to express his feelings well , so when he fully fell head over heals for you in first year - his immediate reaction was to bully you. ridiculous right? all of his friends think so but all of them are too afraid to tell him....well asides from pansy parkinson.

"theodore nott when will you grow a fucking pair and ask the girl out rather than tormenting her!" pansy finally snapped , for the first time in 5 years of theodores pathetic pining , she finally stood up to him and took one for the team.

upon hearing her words , theodores laughing ceased automatically , the group of slytherins behind him falling into a dead silence.

"w-....what?" theodore stuttered quietly , staring at pansy like a deer in headlights.

"you heard me nott , everyone is sick of your little big bad theodore act you put on around that poor girl! its not her fault that you cant comprehend your fucking feelings!"pansys loud shouts making the boy snap out of his daze , unforgiving anger cascading over his once shocked face.

"who the fuck do you think you are parkinson!" theodore shouted back , stepping towards the girl before blaise grabbed his arm harshly.

"yeah you're definitely not going any closer to her." blaise said sternly , squeezing harsh on theos arm , "everyone agrees with pansy mate. shes just a quiet ravenclaw- either leave her alone or man up."

"bullying her isnt doing anything nott but making the girl despise you." lorenzo said angrily before running after you and calling out your name.

this only added fuel to theodores bright flame. you and lorenzo were extremely close and he had no idea why. he hated it. and watching you stop and give lorenzo a soft smile as he wrapped his arm around you , almost made theo throw up.

"theres no point in being jealous mate. that could be you if you were just a bit nicer to her." mattheo said plainly , not very interested in theodores love life but sick of the tensions growing between lorenzo and theo because of said love life.

"youre one to talk you are horrible to all of your little toys!" theodore argued back , glaring at mattheo who only shrugged.

"yeah and im not madly in love with 'my little toys'." mattheo chuckled as theodore clenched his fist tightly.

"so what do you all suggest i do then?! ive tried leaving her alone before but it just meant she paid no attention to me-" theodore was cut off by a sarcastic draco.

"God forbid the girl youve bullied for years pays no attention to you when you finally stop bullying her."

"fuck off malfoy i dont bully her i just...tease her."

"if thats teasing then whats your definition of bullying." mattheo laughed to himself.

"can you all just piss off! help me!" theodore exclaimed in desperation , seeking the advice of his bored friends.

"start flirting with her. throw in a love note or two, girls love that mate." blaise said.

"or! how about something oh so simple - start being nice?!" pansy let out with confusion having heard the boys overcomplicate something so simple.

----

so thats exactly what theodore nott did.

the next door you stayed alert as you walked through the corridors to breakfast , preparing for water or frogs to rain down on you at any second.

so when they didnt come down and theodore nott didnt run past you cackling loudly , a small skip was put in your step and a soft smile plastered on your brightening face.

"someone bubbly today!" lorenzo said with a grin as he came up ro walk besides you , an arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you in close.

"sure am! im dry! like actually dry!" you grinned happily as lorenzo admired the once in a life time joy that your face held.

"what do you mean - you sound crazy?" lorenzo laughed as you only shrugged with the same smile.

"nott has usually soaked me in water or some kind of spell by now , but im actually fine! the spawn of satan is nowhere to be seen!" you left lorenzos arm to skip through the door of the great hall , the fluffy haired boy laughing behind you.

"hi everyoneee~!" you sang out softly as you sat down on the wooden bench across from lisa , luna and cho , sitting besides padma.

they all stared at you oddly , confusion laying on the furrow of their brows , "are you okay?..." chos thick accent rang out in your ears.

"im absolutely perfect, have you guys noticed anything?" you asked joyfully.

"well it certainly feels like we should have-" luna started softly before you cut her off.

"im dry! and i dont have green hair , or purple eyes and im not crying!" you beamed brightly , hugging padmas side as she hesitantly patted your back , exchanging looks of shock with the other girls.

"thats great y/n - but im confused-" lisa said as you stopped her by grabbing her hand and squeezing it excitedly.

"theodore nott has left me alone!" you shouted with happiness , gaining some judging looks from those around you, not that you cared right.

all of the girls faces relaxed with realisation letting out soft 'ooh!'s and gasps , before grinning just like you.

"this is amazing news , no more nott!" lisa cheered happily as you all laughed.

"this calls for celebration." luna stated softly , reaching into her pocket and pulling out a chocolate bar , "its muggle chocolate harry gave me. no better occasion than now to have it."

you all smiled and thanked the blonde girl as she passed out some chocolate to each out you.

you let yourself release a small sigh of contentment before a small piece of parchment landed on your empty plate.

all of you fell into an eery silence as you stared at the piece of paper , every one of you recognising the cursive writing to be theodore notts.

you gulped harshly as padma gasped , all of you silently processing the dreaded appearance of the note.

slowly and reluctantly , you grabbed the note , unfolding it in your hands.

' Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. - T.N '

you released the note from your hard clutch as the words sunk in. EW!! EW EW EW. you had never gotten such a feeling of ickyness before. theodore nott has written down a shakespeare sonnet and addressed it to you?!

"i feel sick!" you let out loudly as your friends scrambled to grab the note and read it , padma rubbing your back in comfort having already read it over your shoulder.

"its not that bad y/n its...romantic.." padma said with hesitation.

"romantic?! padma , im going to throw up and ive not even had the luxury of eating my breakfast yet!!" you let out in horror.

cho , luna and lisa across from you put the paper down on the table , exchanging glances and holding back loud laughs.

"i mean...atleast its not a bucket of cold water?" cho tried to reason quietly.

----

ever since the note hit your plate , your day had been consumed by pure terror. your face pale and your eyes dazed as you soullessly walked the halls to your last lesson of the day , potions with the slytherins.

"y/n, it truly isnt so bad , ive never been sent a love note before.." padma tried to reason and leve your disgusted and angered state.

"thats great for you, i really wish i could say the same!" you shivered as you remembered the words on the parchment.

lisa and padma laughed lightly as you bit back your own laughed , standing in front of the potions door with hesitation, "got to face the devil guys, theodore nott."

"the devil that wrote down a sonnet and gave it to you!" lisa teased as your whole face twisted with disgust , shivers running through your body.

"lets get this over with." you sighed as the other two girls nodded sadly and opened the girls, both of them walking over to your usual group of tables.

you went to greet lorenzo, your usual potions partner , and pull out your chair before seeing mattheo riddle sitting in it.

"well hello summer!" he said with a teasing grin.

"my name isnt summer-" you asked with confusion before realising his reference to the sonnet, "shut up riddle and get out of my seat!"

him and lorenzo laughed before mattheo shook his head with a smug smile , "im afraid i cant do that summer , but would you look at that! theres a free seat besides theo!"

your eyes darted around the room , searching for a better alternative , but there wasnt one , the only seat was besides theo and snape could be heard storming down the hallways towards the room. snape would go off if you werent sat down upon is entry , so you simply ran to the seat besides theodore and sat down just in time.

"hi-" theo started happily before being cut off by snapes monotone voice.

"open your textbooks to page 509 , if you dont have your textbook, detention." snape stated simply as mattheo sighed , knowing he didnt have his textbook.

the whole lesson had gone on painfully slow , theodore seeming to get closer to you every minutes , his arm touching yours and his knee brushing yours under the table. you were desperate to leave this room.

so when 50 minutes later snape said how disappointed he is in your class' work and stormed out of the room , you jumped from your chair and began to pack your bag along with everyone else.

your actions were cut short , when a now standing theodore placed a note on your side of the table.

you stared at it in silence , the same cursive words spelling your name and folded parchment as this morning.

".....get this off my desk nott!" you seethed, catching the attention of lots of your remaining classmates.

"why? i wrote it for you so read it." he said , with a light blush , avoiding your eyes by packing his bag.

"either get it off your chest right here , right now - or leave me be! i dont want your stupid love notes!!" you shouted at him , the boys jaw clenching.

he swiftly turned around , so quickly and so close to you that you stumbled a few steps back , "i love you!"

the whole room fell into a deep silence , the tension thick and the harsh stares blinding.

"w.....what?!-" you asked in pure surprise , frozen and feet glued to the ground.

"i love you and i have done for ages , im just shit at showing it! blaise told me girls like love notes and i was stupid enough to believe him!" theodore let out quickly , his nervous state echoing through his rushed words.

"dont blame me-" blaise muttered before being smacked on the arm by a completely invested pansy.

"you...dont joke about stuff like that nott i knew you were horrible but this? this is fucking cruel!" you shouted at him , tears building in your eyes as you grabbed your bag and stormed out.

theodore watched in horror as you walked out , crying silently , he ran out after you abandoning his bag and leaving your fellow potions students in shock.

"that was better than the movies!" mattheo laughed loudly , breaking the silence in the room.

---

"y/n!" theo shouted after you as you stomped through the empty dungeons, desperately trying to escape to the comfort of your dorm.

"y/n!" theo shouted again, both of you beginning to fully sprint down the corridor.

"fuck off nott!" your voice broke as you shouted and ran.

though none of it was worth it as the boy grabbed your hand and pushed you to the wall in the most gentle way possible , using his hands besides your head and his body to cage you.

"let me go!" you screeched ,as the boy simply stared down at you.

"y/n whats wrong-"

"whats wrong?! WHATS WRONG?!" you screamed as he winced , "you bullied me for 5 years and now one sudden day , you love me?! and you think im going to be okay with that! who told you?!"

your last words caught the boy off guard , as he looked up from the floor and gaped at you , confused , "what do you mean who told me?-"

"that i used to have some stupid crush on you - thats why right?!" you seethed with anger as theos jaw dropped to the floor , staring at you.

"you have a crush on me-?"

"had! had a crush on you!" you said bitterly as he broke out into a grin.

"i- i dont know what to say , i had no idea." he said as your face paled.

you had just told theodore that you had a crush on him....definitely just had.

"i-...haha , i was just joking ha ha!" you forced out a fake laugh as he grinned at you , grabbing your face softly.

"im so sorry for everything i ever did to you i just...i just wanted your attention." he said quietly , looking down ashamed.

"i dont know if i can forgive you, youve made me miserable for years theodore." his eyes glassed over at your works , "but maybe i could give you a chance to change..."

he beamed with a smile reminiscent to the one you had this morning as he hugged you happily.

"i promise , ill only ever make you smile summer."

you cringed at his use of the nickname and pushed the happy boy off you , "dont get ahead of yourself , im simply giving you a second chance and - dont ever call me summer again."

1K notes · View notes

polyo-nym-y · 5 months

Text

The Pushy Demon.

————————————————————

Alastor x Female!Reader

[WARNINGS: Al fucks you in the elevator, you’re stubborn and put up a fight despite liking him, rough fuck, manhandling, dubcon??reader says stop but doesn’t really mean it, p in v sex etc etc MDNI!!!NSFW!!!!]

This is unedited so be warned !

I am once again posting a discord inspired prompt. This is for you guys ;3 I hope you enjoy it.

————————————————————

Initially, you thought the Hazbin Hotel was God's last gift to you. You thought he might’ve taken pity on your poor sinful soul. That hopeful thinking died quickly on your very first day there.

Because this was Hell after all and every sinner was doomed to live eternity in agony. And agony is exactly how you’d describe your current situation.

It has been months now that you’ve suffered Alastors attacks. Since day one he seemed to target you as he actively sought you out. He relished every reaction he coaxed out of you with every tease and jab.

But it wasn’t his teasing that actually brought you agony. No, rather so it was the realization that you had grown quite fond of it. You used to groan at his jests and feel nothing but annoyance. But now? Now you felt a blush rising to your cheeks. His mere presence now seemed to wash waves of burning heat over you. You’d sooner double die than give him the satisfaction in knowing your fondness for him, though.

For a while this task was easy as the extermination date drew closer and closer. Alastor kept himself busy and a part of you felt upset that he wasn't making any effort to chase you. You felt like a silly child when your disappointment morphed into jealousy, eyes watching him pour his focus onto others. You knew it was ridiculous to feel envy as he showed more attention to the hotel. Which is exactly why you made an effort to avoid him completely now.

Alastor was perceptive, however, and your obvious avoidance didn't go unnoticed. At first he was amused by it as he watched you hurriedly run from him any time you saw him. But the game was getting old and he was growing bored. So when he heard from Charlie that you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be attending today's lesson, he was more than annoyed.

He sat in the foyer amongst the other residents, his eyes staring at Charlie and Vaggie. He pretended to listen as his talons tapped the arm of the chair rhythmically. He unfortunately found his mind wandering to you as he tuned out the lesson. Knowing well that you were not sick and that this was going to end tonight.

His ears twitched as he heard a faint shuffle across the lobby. His eyes didnt leave Charlie as his shadow looked for him. When he saw you peeking around a corner he had to fight the laugh that wanted to slip out. How cute.

You watched from a distance as they all attended that day's lesson. Your eyes lingered over Alastor as that stupid envy bubbled back up within you, upset that his eyes weren't on you. Disgusted with yourself you quickly turned on your heels and began walking back towards the elevator.

You didnt hear the lesson suddenly stop nor did you hear Alastor curtly excuse himself. You did however hear the familiar clacking of shoes trailing behind you. Instinctively you quickened your strides as you stared at the Elevator door just ahead of you. Surely it wasn't him, you thought, he didn't see you right?

You got your answer when you glanced over your shoulder. Alastors tall figure radiated annoyance as his long legs closed the distance at a terrifying rate. Without even thinking you broke into a sprint as you rushed forward. Your hands fighting against the metal lattice door as it got jammed. But once you finally opened it you stumbled into the brightly lit elevator, hands quickly trying to shove the still jammed door closed. A large black hand shot out as it stopped the cage door from closing, his dark gaze peering through the bars down at you.

“Going up? How perfect! So am I!” His smile widened as his eyes trailed down your throat, watching you swallow that delicious mix of fear and nervousness. He waited for you to drop your hands from the door before he slammed it open roughly. The act earned a flinch from you as you stepped back into the far corner.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you forced your nerves into annoyance. A glare being sent up to him as he cheerfully stepped inside and closed you both in. “I thought you were supposed to be attending today's lesson.”

“And I thought you were sick.”

“I was feeling better… but now I’m feeling worse.”

He pressed the top floor before glancing to his side, to you. You quirked your brow as you watched him look you up and down. “Hm, you do look terrible.”

Your eye twitched as you watched his shit eating grin grow. You bit back the remark you wanted to give him and chose to instead lean into the corner. Your eyes staring at the ground as you tried to ignore him.

The elevator rattled to life after a delay before it began to ascend. Alastor began to hum as he stepped closer to you. Your hands clutched around yourself tighter as you stepped away but Alastor only followed. With your shoulder now pressed against the cold metal wall Alastor made himself comfortable against your other shoulder. His larger body purposefully pressing against you.

Your heart began to race now that you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about him. Feeling the warmth of his body and the tingling static that hung in the air around him. You were contorting trying to avoid his touch, your face pressing into the wall. Alastors hum grew lower as he cocked his head, his deep gaze watching you carefully. With an annoyed groan you pushed yourself from the wall and away from him, shuffling to stand across from him. “UGH- this has to stop!”.

“You’re right, my dear, this does need to stop.”

“Wha-” Before you could even question what he meant the elevator began to stutter. The lights flickered above you as you reached your hands out trying to steady yourself. Suddenly the elevator came to a screeching halt as the lights went out completely, the only thing visible was Alastors glowing eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine when your eyes met his in the dark, the intense look had you frozen in place. He’d snap his fingers “Tch, looks like the elevator broke, how unfortunate.” A chuckle left him as you watched his eyes draw closer, his heels clicking as he took a single step forward. You sucked in a nervous breath as you stepped back, the metal cage rattling behind you.

“Alastor..” you warned as he took another slow step forward. “Turn it back on.”

“Turn what back on? You’re not insinuating that I have anything to do with this, are you?” He feigned offense. “I’m stuck in this predicament just as you are.”

You watched his eyes, the only thing you could see, as he continued to step forward. Stumbling, you felt your way along the wall as you side stepped him just before he caged you in. “Alastor, stay away from me-”.

A growl left him as he turned to follow your figure in the dark. “And why should I?” He hesitated for a moment before his grin widened. His eyes slipped closed and suddenly you were completely bathed in darkness. You swallowed nervously as you tried to make out where he was. The elevator creaked and suddenly you felt hot breath ghost against your ear “I know you’ve been avoiding me. But why is that, mon cher?”

Your hand flew out to smack him but you hit nothing but air. His voice now came from behind you as you felt sharp claws trail up your back and over your shoulders. “Missed me~” He'd laugh darkly as you opened your mouth to yell at him. But once again his actions silenced you as his large hands roughly pushed you forward.

Your hands flew out before you fell face first into the elevators wall, the force of your body had the elevator swaying and creaking. “FUCK- you wanna know why Im avoiding you?? Its because im fucking tired of playing your stupid games!”.

His hands were on you before you could turn around, a firm grip finding its way around your wrists. He pressed his chest against you as he pinned your body against the wall. You squirmed frantically as you tried wrenching your hands free but he only tightened his hold on you. Pressing you so harshly the cold metal began to sting your cheek. “Oh, darling, do you take me as a fool?” He dipped his head as he grazed his lips against your hair, inhaling your scent with a sigh. “You think I dont notice the red that blossoms on your cheeks? Or how your heart races- just as it is now.”

You gritted your teeth, still too stubborn to tell the truth. “Thats because your horrifying- a pushy demon who doesnt fucking know personal space!”

An unhinged laugh rumbled through his chest and into you. “You want to pretend its fear? Fine, then fear me. I’ll be that horrific demon for you.” Without another word he pressed his hips against the plushness of your ass, grinding into you slowly.

Your body tensed as you felt your stomach begin to flip. You tried to fight against him once more, your body thrashing against his. “AL-” Your words died in your throat as he kicked your legs apart, wedging his knee between your legs. One hand kept a tight hold on your left hand whilst his right arm snaked around your waist. He tugged you up onto his thigh and pressed his knee against the wall, your toes barely reaching the ground as he forced a pressure between your legs.

“Hm~?” He hummed a reply as his eyes slipped open once more. He felt your legs tremble and tense as you tried to lift up from his leg. His arm around your waist slithered back to settle on your hip as he grinded you down into him. “What is it, dear? You’ve gone awfully quiet. Too scared to speak?”

“S-Stop-” You choked on your words trying to bite back any moans that dared to slip out. As he grinded you against his thigh you felt the slickness that soaked your panties begin to seep onto his pants. Aimlessly you tried to push at him with your free hand. As if wanting to make a show of how weak you were he let your other hand go. Both of your hands now trying to grab at him from behind you.

“I wont. Plead all you want. I wont stop.” His left hand snaked under your shirt as he tore your bra to allow your breasts to spill out. Sharp talons scratched along sensitive flesh as he pinched and toyed with your hardening nipple. His hand at your hip stopped as it dipped under your waist band. Reaching to slide his fingers between your soaked lips just to bring them back out. “Especially not when you're this wet already.” He made a show of rubbing your fluids across your lips, knowing well you couldn't see how his fingers glistened in the dark. His talons wedged past your lips as he tried to pry your mouth open. When you refused he settled his mouth over the shell of your ear and gave it a bite. His fingers darted in as soon as you gasped, pressing against your tongue ensuring you thoroughly tasted yourself.

Your head began to grow foggy as you felt yourself beginning to relax into the pressure of his thigh. Hips twitching, desperately wanting that friction again. Instead, you bit down onto the fingers that invaded your mouth. A sharp hiss left Alastor as he fish hooked your cheek, yanking you back into his chest. His other hand came to wrap around your throat as he gave a warning squeeze. “HA! You want this to hurt, don't you?”

He continued yanking you back until your neck was craned, forcing you to look up into his glowing eyes. The dark amusement that swam in his red gaze sent a shock wave straight to your core as your thighs tightened around his. Despite every fiber of you screaming to submit, you refused. Your mouth struggling to suction closed with his fingers in your cheek. You tried to muster as much spit as you could as you sputtered up at him, messily spitting up at him and onto your own face.

He didn't say a word as his only reaction was his twitching eye. Slowly he took a deep breath before he removed his fingers from your mouth, knee suddenly slipping out from under you. “You are the most pathetically stubborn thing I have ever met.” With his hold on your throat still he threw you onto the ground like a ragdoll.

You winced at the impact before quickly trying to crawl away from him. “Wh- wait-AH-” his hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged you back to him as he settled on his knees. You held your breath as you stared into his eyes like a moth to a lamp, the sound of his zipper deafening in the small space. You felt him settle between your legs as his hands tore your underwear apart. “Al, wait-” when you tried to sit up his palm pushed you back down by your head as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

“You never listen do you, Mon cher?” he’d purr with a sweet tone that didnt match his rough hands. “You said it yourself. I'm a horrifying pushy demon who knows nothing about personal space, right?” you felt his swollen head swipe up between your lips before he quickly snapped his hips into you. You choked and gasped at the sudden intrusion as he bottomed out in one thrust. His cock twitched inside of you as your cunt fluttered around him. “To think I’m dizzy for a dame like you.” A forced laugh left him before he was pushing your legs open wider.

He was suddenly thrusting into you at a brutal pace as his hands gripped and clawed at your flesh. A desperate mewl left your throat as all of your fight left you, your shaking hips trying to push into each thrust. “A-Alastor- f-fuck-” you moaned out mumbled words. His hands settle on your hips to hold you still.

“Mm-mhm? Are you going to be honest now?” when your hips still tried to fight against him he pulled from you. Your limp body being flipped onto your stomach quickly before he buried himself back into you. One hand kept your hips up whilst his other tangled into your hair, pressing your face down to force your back into an arch.

You could only cry and moan into the floor as your spit pooled below you. Legs shaking as he fucked into your cunt like his afterlife depended on. Each thrust had his heavy balls smacking against your clit, a jolt of electricity sent through you each time as you felt that coil tighten quickly. You tried to nod but his hand against your head made it difficult, but you couldnt manage a real response right now. “Ah-h, theres my good fucking girl.” He’d coo down to you between pants. You swore if honesty was the cost for this? Youd never utter a lie ever again.

His claws dug into your flesh as he rutted into you. The burning pain mixed with your quickly approaching release and you felt like youd die again. Your shaky hand tried to cover your mouth to stifle the erotic sounds you were making. The elevator creaked with every deep thrust, his own movements getting sloppy as he felt you tightly clenching around him.

The lights began to flicker to life just as you began to reach your peak, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden brightness. His hand in your hair yanked your head up from the floor as you felt the elevator stutter before suddenly descending. You felt fear prickle every nerve as a scream ripped from your throat at the feeling of falling rapidly. Your orgasm didnt stop though as your fearful scream turned into a raspy moan, your cunt twitching around Als cock as he buried himself deep into you. A groan leaving him as he reached his own release, his seed spilling into you as he grinded it in deeper.

With a jolt the elevator stopped its sudden descent as the light fully turned on. The small space fell silent as he released his hold on you. Before he could even pull out his head snapped towards the lattice door.

A very shocked and disgusted Husk stood in front of the elevator door. Angel peaked over with a surprised grin. “Holy shit it reeks of sex. No fuckin’ way you and smiles just banged in the elevator!”

All you could do was groan into the ground.

————————————————————

*Dizzy with a dame: 1920s slang ‘to be deeply in love with a woman’.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut

1K notes · View notes

misshugs · 6 months

Text

₃The Cameragirl³ || snc

After a cheeky reply you might've regretted, you end up dragged into the office to have a little... talk.

contains: SMUT +18, oral (both ways), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, alcohol consumption, no mention of Y/n

a/n: you asked, i delivered.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

word count: 3k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You thought about how lucky it was for the room to be soundproof, glad that nobody will hear your screams. Although... it would be quite pleasant to let everyone know how they please you, how they touch you like nobody else.

The way you know only them could do it.

You didnt expect this to be the way you'd be doing your cardio, but it seemed destiny had some other plans.

[hours before]

You were basically shaking as they took you back onto the office, the thought of them asking about your stupid comments instead of going with the flow like they always did.

It was too obvious to be jokingly flirting this time, and they noticed.

And you were scared shitless.

You didn't know if they would genuinely go ahead with it or maybe let you know they're not interested, which made your stomach growl in response to your anxiety.

Well, to your hunger as well. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday.

They just got to sit you down on the table before listening to your poor stomach. They laughed.

"Right. You just woke up." Sam said as you shamelessly nodded your head out of embarrassment. "Then let us eat before talking it out. Wouldn't like for you to pass out on us."

"Come on, then." Colby continued, extending an arm to you, which you cheekishly ignored and stood up from the table wilst puffing your cheeks out. "Giving me an attitude? Yikes." He laughed.

"Didn't even help me out when I was stuck in Sam's arms? Yikes." You replied, walking out of the room. You could hear their chuckles before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Heating yourself something to eat, they reluctantly got closer and sighed. "Hey, uh... we need to leave right now. There's this person we have to meet for another haunted place and this is the only time they have available. We completely forgot." Colby explained to you, looking back at his phone, guessing it was the message he received.

"Oh, okay. I'll be here, then." You said, giving him a side look before continuing making your food.

"You don't wanna come with us?" Sam asked.

"I wanna eat?"

"Right, right... well, we'll talk later, then. Don't think you're still safe." Sam smiled at you before walking away with Colby.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, but when they left, you let out a big sigh you've been restraining.

You were safe, for now at least. While thinking of a way to try and avoid the topic all together, you got a message. It was a mutual friend of yours, asking you to come to a party.

Quickly agreeing at the false sense of hope you received, she told you that the boys were also invited. She also agreed upon picking you up beforehand, since you weren't really going to do anything anyways so being early and prepping everything up was also a nice way to keep your mind out of the gutter.

After eating, you basically had the whole day for yourself, so you might as well prepare yourself earlier.

Thinking about them, you thought cautiosly about what to wear.

And honestly?

You felt like you needed to push their buttons a little bit more tonight. Yeah, whatever happened a few minutes ago made you a blushing mess, but at the same time, boy... the adrenaline you got from it sure was fun.

Then again, you guys weren't exactly together... so what's wrong with wearing something a bit more... revealing?

And so, it was decided. Searching throughout your closet, you found a short dress that fit your criteria for the night. With a slit through the back that went down to heaven and short slits on the side, making your thighs almost pop out.

It wasn't something you usually wore. Heck, you forgot you had it for all you remembered, but it looked so good in your skin that you just had to use it.

A couple of hours passed by and you were already at the party, getting things ready before some people started coming through. It didn't take long before the place began crowding with people.

The host, your friend, has been under the influence even before it all began. You were starting to get a bit tipsy yourself, getting loose at the dance floor whenever a good song started playing.

"Hey, quick question." Your friend yelled at you. "Where's Sam and Colby? They said they were busy and didn't know if they were gonna come." She explained. Looking at her with confusion, you then remembered.

"Oh! They're talking to someone for their next investigation, that's why." Unbeknownst to you, you were merely half right. Yes, they were talking with someone about their next location, but they also denied due to other reasons involving you.

Thinking about it, you believed they weren't going to arrive at the party, therefore, you were somewhat down at the thought. You wanted to tease them tonight, but it seems that your plan wasn't going to happen.

It didn't step you away from having fun, though. Drinking, dancing, talking with friends... it was a good time. That is, until a random dude you've never seen in your life started approaching.

Disinterest in your eyes was visible, but the guy seemingly ignored it completely and kept making the cringiest remarks you've heard in your life.

He tried to get closer to you, reaching out to your waist before you could try and run away.

Your heart racing at a thousand per hour, his hands were rough, almost certain that there might leave a mark on your fragile skin.

"Won'tcha come with me tonight, 'lil mama?" He smirked, holding you tight and close to him, making you almost puke.

"Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to scream, tried to push him away but to no use. You were still weak from your recent investigation after all.

"Now, come on. Don't do this to me, honey." Holding your chin on place, he made you look at him. "I can make you feel really g-"

"Back off dude, she's taken." You heard a familiar voice before finally setting free from his grasp. Colby was the first one you saw, taking off the guys arms from you.

Another set of hands held you softly by the waist, pulling you closer, away from him. Sam. You looked up at his face, he seemed mad.

He looked at you, now worry in his blue eyes. "You alright?" He asked softly in your ear, holding one of your hands to try and comfort you. You nodded quickly, glad that you've been saved once again.

Looking back at the guy, Colby was pushing him away. A determined stare down from his side, making the guy that was trying to gain your attention chuckle.

"Where were you, huh? When she was having fun all alone in the middle of the room? You're just tryna pull her off as well. You dipshits are nobody." He snarled back at Colby, annoyance in both their faces.

"We're not gonna let shits like you touch our girl, understand?"

You could barely hear what they were saying due to the loud music from every side, but you surely heard that last part.

Their girl? What did that even mean?

A visible smirk on Colby's lips when he turned around to look at Sam. You didn't think the next set of actions were the respond to this childish kids play, but you could feel Sam's soft hands on your chin, making you look at him and his lips interlocked with yours in an instant.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, what was happening?

Was there a faucet running? Cause boy you were dripping wet. These men were driving you crazy.

You caught a glimpse of the now pissed guy walking off before Sam could pull away. When he eventually did, you looked at his smiling face for a second before reality hit you like a truck.

Your face flushed with a red tint on your cheeks. Looking back at Colby who was walking closer towards you, both of them now towering over you.

"I-I thought you guys weren't gonna make it?" You asked, genuinely confused now that you remembered your friend vividly explaining they were busy.

"We weren't, but our plans for the night switched places." Colby smirked at you, making Sam laugh at the remark, even more with your confused face.

You didn't understood at the time, but their plans were supposed to be you. "We finished earlier than expected, but then when we got home you weren't there." Sam explained. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Well, she told me to come here early to help her out, so..."

"Ah, so you've been here for longer?" Colby asked, putting his hand on the slit on your back. "I guess I can't blame the guy, such a revealing outfit for so many hours..." He continued, slowly caressing your back with his hand, moving his hand down your bare skin. "I don't think I'd be able to hold it on a minute longer if I were him."

Shivers went throughout your whole body after listening to his words. "So if you didn't know we were coming, did you put this on for everyone else to see?" Sam asked, looking at you in the eyes. "I'm a bit jealous."

Your lip was quivering. The plan was to flirt back and tease them if they eventually came, but right now, you were speechless. The touch of their hands making your legs weak and shaky. A sudden hand up the side slit of your dress from Sam caught you slightly off guard, caressing your hip softly.

"Showing this much skin... Is this dress yours? Why have we never seen it before?" He asked.

"I don't.. I-I don't use it often." You managed to reply before panting at the constant feeling of getting touched by them. The adrenaline of someone possibly seeing what they were up to with you was nerve racking.

"We'll make you use it more often then, but only for us." Colby whispered, holding your ass and making you let out a soft moan. "We might as well have to find another place to chat more comfortably, what do you think, Sam?" He asked and Sam nodded.

Holding your hand tighter, he started walking away from the croud and into a random room from your friend's house. Closing the door, they noticed the music was barely heard. "Soundproof?" Sam asked.

"Seems like it."

"Most her rooms are..." You explained, making them look at eachother with a smirk before looking back at you.

"Good. You won't have to worry about screaming our names too loudly tonight then." Sam said.

"W-wha-" You could barely manage to say before Colby lifted you up and walked you to the bed.

Sitting you down, you looked up at them towering over you again.

"You're not escaping us tonight. You know that, right?" Colby began, crossing his arms.

"We're gonna have that... talk. Right now if we need to." Sam said, making you gulp.

"Can the talk be a bit more... dynamic?" You opened your legs slightly, which made them smirk.

"It was going to be from the start, sweetheart." Colby said with a deep tone, putting his hand on the insides of your thighs, quickly getting his hand closer to your heat. You sighed when you felt it, Sam fixing your hair behind your ear before getting closer to your face for another kiss.

While you kissed back, your legs closed a bit by instinct when you felt him playing with your clit through the fabric of your panties. "She's so wet, Sam." He informed, making Sam chuckle in the middle of the kiss, pushing his tongue deeper inside when you opened your mouth.

They made you lie down on the bed while your heated make out session with Sam didn't give you a second to even breathe. You moaned slightly when you felt your legs being pushed apart.

Sam slowly pulled down your dress, leaving your boobs out in the open, he separated from your lips and sighed. "No bra or anything, it almost seems like she was expecting us to fuck her." He said, pulling back only to see your whole view. "Fuck." He whispered.

Colby took off your damped panties and threw them to the floor, pushing up the skirt of your dress to have a clear view of your pussy.

You could see him licking and biting his lips while admiring the view. While sam went back to your soft, tasty lips, he began kneeding one of your breasts, playing with your nipple. You whined at the feeling, your heart racing at the touch.

Not a minute later, you could feel your legs being slightly lifted and a tongue licking your pussy, making you moan in between the kiss, letting Sam's tongue slip back in once again.

Shaking, you could feel Colby's tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.

Sam separated from your lips and started giving you wet kisses around your face, slowly descending through your neck and onto your boobs, nibbling at your skin before making its way towars your nipple.

Sucking at it, you moaned softly and held onto his hair for support, while Colby kept on sucking and pushing his tongue inside of you, exploring every inch he's able to.

While Sam started sucking and licking one of your nipples, he made sure you were kept entertained. Putting two of his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick, you began sucking on them while drowning the moans in between.

From all of the stimulation, it didn't take long for you to cum all over Colby's face. He cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure to look at your erotic expressions whilst having Sam's fingers in your mouth, drooling all over them.

They both separated from you. You were filled with a sense of loss for a moment, but nothing that was going to stay for long. Sam sat behind you, making sure you lied your back on his chest while holding one of your breasts and opening up your legs.

Colby, enjoying the view, waited patiently for his friend to make you feel good. "Let's make sure you can suck us up well, yeah?" Said Sam while slowly moving the hand he had in your mouth down to your pussy.

Opening your lips with his fingers, he teased for a moment before pushing inside of you, making you moan and pull back your head on his shoulder.

One finger, then two, then three.

He stretched you up good while Colby was busy taking off his pants and looking at everything his eyes could manage from the view.

"Make sure Colby can see your pretty face." Sam whispered, thrusting quickly with his fingers. You could feel his bulge quickly rising behind you, poking your back.

You did as told, looking at Colby in the eyes while moaning and whining, your legs shaking at the feeling of being stretched out. "Colby... fuck. I need you."

"What do you need, baby?" He asked seductively, putting out his dick while you moaned at Sam's teeth biting onto your skin.

"You.. your dick... please." You whined.

"You want him to also make you feel good?" Sam asked while squishing one of your boobs and you nodded rapidly.

"Yeah. Yeah, please. Oh, fuck. Please." Pleading in such an erotic way, they couldn't just say no. Sam's fingers left you right before you were on the edge of yet another orgasm, but it didn't take long for something even better to take its place.

Colby's tip was slowly pushing in, making sure to not hurt you. You opened your mouth, taking out your tongue as the feeling was euphoric. He got closer and sucked on it before kissing you.

When he was completely inside, he began thrusting slowly but surely. Quickly speeding up when he felt you were already getting used to his length.

Moaning his name out, you looked back at Sam and whined for him as well, touching his erection from behind you, making him grunt. "Sam. Take... take it out." You panted in between moans.

And he did as told, quickly pulling out his dick while getting on his knees so that you could quickly hold it and put it inside your hot, wet mouth. "Oh, fuck." He let out when he felt your tongue up his friend.

You were quick to put it inside your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while getting railed up by Colby. The vibration of your moans sent shivers down Sam's spine. Holding your head up for support, he began thrusting inside your mouth as well.

It was a dream come true, you were on cloud 9, almost fainting at the pleasure you were receiving from both ends.

You didn't take long to cum, neither did them. After all, those teasing were killing them as well, they were just trying to hold it long enough for you to release yourself first.

You gulped down Sam's juices before pulling out, panting when he did. You were beat. If you barely had any strength before due to the recent investigation, now you were sure of it.

They made sure to clean you up before fixing your dress, giving you kisses all over your body, looking at the now visible hickeys all over your skin. "Gotta let people know you're taken. We can't have what happened before again." Colby whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.

Breathing heavily, you nodded at them, not even entirely sure what you were agreeing upon.

"Well, that was a nice chat, was it not?" Sam said, smiling at your wobbly self.

"It really was, glad we could clear things up, right?" Colby continued. "I mean, I'm guessing you understand what we meant, right?"

You looked at him, getting your breath back together, smiling. "That you're my boys?" You asked, "Or maybe you have to explain it all over again, maybe I didn't understand what you meant."

They looked at eachother, smirking. "Then let us explain it again."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

"come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth, i'm feelin' romantical."

thank you so much for reading <3 //also last part isn't a cliffhanger, we all know they went for round two, the end

smol taglist from those that wanted pt 3 *(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged): @oh-prettylady @lemonnightmare @honey-bees-13 @jupiter1700

~nikkõ

977 notes · View notes

osarina · 1 month

Text

ᡣ𐭩 I'D MEET THE SEA UNDER THE SUNLIGHT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

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

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

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

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: i didnt get the chance to proofread this one bc of the procedure so don't crucify me if the grammar is awful </3 i have a doctor's pass </3

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

It takes Dazai Osamu approximately two days, seven hours and fifty-three minutes to get his hands on proof of your affiliation with the Port Mafia. He supposes it was due to luck—the timing of when he got confirmation of his suspicions—but Dazai thinks it’s also due to his ability to think quickly if he does say so himself.

He stares at the file that Katai emailed him, a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to push away, unsure if he wants to open it and be forced with physical evidence of who you are and what you do. He doesn’t even know why he’s so hesitant, he already knows. He already knows so he shouldn’t be hesitant… but if he already knows, then why does he need to see the proof? What is this going to do for him? What is he going to do with this information? Nothing, the answer is nothing, so then why-

Katai: Can you quit holding that date from four years ago over my head now?

Dazai: no ^.^

Katai: Of course not. Whatever. Dazai, I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop digging into this—it’s dangerous. And I don’t want to be involved.

Dazai shuts his phone off immediately.

He hovers the cursor over the video file on his laptop, chewing the inside of his cheek—the supposed footage from whatever happened behind Tokyo’s City Hall last night. With his heart tight in his chest and the image of your smile burned behind his eyelids, he clicks on the file.

Two days after the event, you and Chuuya are sitting in Mori’s office getting the talk down of a lifetime. Mori has been going on for thirty minutes already and you’re sick of his voice. You don’t know how it’s your fault that the Shimazaki-kai decided to try to take you out while you were in Tokyo but evidently it is.

“I don’t see how this is an issue, boss,” Chuuya finally says, voice strained. “The Sun and Steel are already on top of the situation, Noriko was livid when she realized that they tried to assassinate one of us while we were in Tokyo under the Sun and Steel’s protection.”

“You don’t see how this is an issue,” Mori repeats slowly, voice nothing short of mocking. Usually, he at least tries to mask his annoyance—you and Chuuya share a concerned look with one another. “You don’t see how it’s an issue that we’ve caused this conflict to escalate to the point of the Shimazaki-kai being willing to go to war with the Sun and Steel if it means the mere chance of getting rid of one of us?”

“Okay,” Chuuya mutters. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, little hime,” Mori says coolly, leveling his calculating gaze onto you. You don’t flinch beneath it, meeting it head on as you raise your chin. “This all stems from your reckless decision to attack the Inagawa-kai.”

“She didn’t have a choice.” Chuuya jumps to your defense, frowning. “They attacked her at the ports. That was a declaration of war in itself.”

You almost wince at the ridiculing look Mori directs toward Chuuya, voice amused as he speaks. “Is that what she told you?”

Chuuya gives you a questioning look but you don’t give Mori anymore time to stir the pot. You don’t need Chuuya knowing that your decision was driven by Dazai of all people—he’s already angry enough about the situation with the civilian.

“And here I thought you were going to… what was it you said? ‘Clean up my mess?’” you say snidely, drawing Mori’s attention back to you. “Perhaps the real reason the Yakuza syndicates are so willing to challenge our authority is not because of my decision but rather because of the incapability perceived in our boss.”

Chuuya’s eyes shoot open and Mori raises his brows, entirely unperturbed by your comment.

“To think all it would take for you to start biting back…” Mori trails off, unbearably amused and clearly referring to Dazai, making you stiffen. “How fascinating. You’ve kept up this ruse longer than I expected. I think this is the first time you’ve managed to surprise me, little hime.”

Your expression twists as you look away, ignoring the lost look Chuuya gives you, clearly irritated because he doesn’t know what’s going on. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you take the welcome distraction eagerly, hoping to find an excuse to get out of this wretched meeting.

Klaus: your civilian boy is at your tower

You: What?

Klaus: *one image attached*

You stare down at your phone in shock, desperately trying to ignore the curious looks Mori and Chuuya are sending your way.

What the fuck?

Dazai tilts his head to the side, giving the three boys standing in front of him a simpering smile. One of them—the emo one with black hair and white tips—bares his teeth at Dazai like a feral dog, the one in the middle—Dazai recognizes him as Klaus, the boy with you that day at the ports—gives him an irritable look, while the one standing in the back—a nervous looking boy with choppy silver hair and a black collar—lets out a pathetic noise in the back of his throat.

“She’s gonna be so fucking mad at you,” Klaus tells him, voice harsh. His Japanese is broken and accented but understandable for the most part. “She’s gonna fucking-”

He shifts into a foreign language mid-sentence—German, maybe—so Dazai doesn’t know what he’s saying but he’s sure it’s nothing good. He keeps up the overly confident facade, even if he does start to doubt himself internally.

Shit, he thinks to himself, smile fraying at the edges, what is he doing?

Dazai definitely did not think this through and it’s way too late for him to back down now. After watching the video and seeing you with the gravity manipulator, seeing the brief battle in the alley behind the Tokyo city hall, Dazai pretty much blackmailed Katai into using the CCTV cameras between both cities to follow you back to Yokohama to see what building you live in. In retrospect, maybe that’s a little creepy, but he just watched you and the gravity manipulator kill a whole crew of people so he thinks stalking you a bit isn’t too bad in comparison.

“Who do you think you are?” the black-haired one says, voice tight and pitched. His jaw is clenched tight and he takes half a step forward but pauses when he sees the sharp look of warning that Klaus gives him.

He thinks maybe he is stupid. Ango used to rattle him around and yell at him for doing stupid things back before Odasaku died but he thinks this might take the cake for the stupidest thing Dazai has ever done. Standing outside a building owned by the Mafia, antagonizing three mafiosos, waiting here to demand a conversation with someone who is likely their boss. Ango might’ve been right when he said that Dazai has no functioning brain cells.

“None of your business,” Dazai replies with a sweet smile, almost giggling at the way the boy bears his teeth again, even more livid than before.

“You-”

“Stop.”

All three boys go rigid at the sound of your voice and even Dazai stiffens at the cold tone. He forces himself to turn his head to the side, eyes falling upon you as you make your way toward the four of them. The suit you’re wearing today is different—usually he’s seen you wear black on black, but today you’re wearing a burgundy button-up under your suit jacket. You look beautiful—always do, Dazai thinks wistfully—but Dazai finds himself swallowing thickly instead, not used to the blank look you cast over him before you turn your attention over to the three boys.

Ouch, Dazai thinks, not really knowing what he expected but it still hurts to be dismissed like that.

“Klaus, go wipe the cameras around headquarters—wherever he might have passed through,” you say. “Akutagawa, Atsushi, if anyone finds out about this…”

The two boys that Dazai doesn’t recognize share a look with one another, odd expressions spreading across their faces before they nod. All three scamper off without another word, the silver-haired boy giving Dazai a short, worried look that puts Dazai on edge before leaving. You don’t look at him. Rather, you stride right past him toward the building.

Dazai swallows thickly before following after you. You don’t say a word as you lead him to the tall, black building and Dazai wants to say something but his words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Dazai always has something to say but he doesn’t right now and that scares him because he needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you when the two of you finally get up to your apartment.

“Hey, I know you’re a mafia executive because I had my hacker friend get me CCTV tapes from the Tokyo City Hall and I saw you and that short ginger with the tacky hat murder a bunch of guys. Plus, I had him stalk you so I could figure out where you live.”

Yeah, right.

Dazai shivers at the rush of cool air that hits him as he enters the building with you, watches the way the doorman gives him a curious look before inclining his head to you. You give the older man a pointed look before nodding your head to one of the corners of the room and the elevator—Dazai doesn’t know what you’re getting at but he obviously does from the way says:

“Of course, hime.”

You don’t say anything still, leading him toward the elevator and holding it open so he can step past and stand inside. You follow after him, clicking the button to the top floor of the building before scanning a keycard.

How awkward.

Dazai almost wants to crawl out of his own skin, toss himself right out of the glass elevator looking over the city. You don’t even look at him—you keep your gaze trained forward, lips curled down, not even sparing Dazai the briefest glance as the elevator starts to move up.

Maybe this was a mistake, Dazai starts to think, twiddling with his fingers as he keeps sparing short glances in your direction. He still doesn’t even know what he wants to come from this—shouldn’t the proof of your affiliation with the Mafia have been enough to send him running? He should’ve taken it as reason to stop reaching out to you, gone back to life before you but-

But life before you was dark.

His throat spasms as he swallows. Life before you was dark. Life before you was him dragging himself out of bed every day trying to convince himself that he couldn’t let himself die until he fulfilled Odasaku’s final request. Life before you was him fighting depressive episode after depressive episode with alcohol and sex, preferring pain to the emptiness he seemed to constantly be plagued with because at least that meant he could feel something.

He doesn’t want to go back to that—you’re the first person who's actually seen him since Odasaku died. The first person to make him feel as if he’s worth something. He doesn’t give a shit about about what you do, he doesn’t want to go back to life without you.

He glances over at you again, catching the eerily blank expression on your face as you stare ahead. Three words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

“Are you mad?” His voice wavers over the question; he feels pathetic. Feels like a kid tugging at his mother’s shirt after he did something wrong.

You finally look at him though, turn your head slowly toward him as if you don’t even want to believe he actually asked that. Dazai doesn’t know if it’s progress or not because the expression on your face is nothing short of livid.

“Okay,” he says quietly, averting his gaze back to the glass of the elevator.

God, how many floors is this building? The ride to the top floor is taking an agonizingly long amount of time. He doesn’t know if it’s because the elevator itself is slow or if it’s because the building is just that tall or if it just seems longer because of Dazai’s own turmoil—either way, it leaves Dazai miserable.

He really needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you. He should have figured it out before coming here but Dazai just got too antsy with the information Katai gave him on hand and he found himself making his way over here before he could double guess himself.

He doesn’t think you’ll appreciate him using Katai to get the evidence of your position in the Mafia—plus, it could put him in danger and Dazai doesn’t want that. He thinks maybe he’ll pin the blame on his professor—you don’t seem to like him anyway, so you might take it at face value. If you don’t, he’ll have to figure something else out to protect Katai but Dazai has always been a quick thinker so he has faith that he’ll think of something.

If he’s lucky, you’ll lead the conversation and he’ll be able to reflect off of you after seeing where your head's at. That would be the best case scenario.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator finally bings, signaling that it has finally reached the top floor of the building. You step out before him, hardly even looking at him as you stride into your apartment. Dazai follows after, a bit more hesitantly.

His breath catches as his gaze twists around the massive space—floor to ceiling windows line the walls looking over the city, black couches set up in front of the TV and expensive decor littering the room, there’s a kitchen off to the right and a staircase leading up to a second level.

What types of apartments have staircases? Dazai thinks, distressed, finally looking back at you.

You’ve crossed the room—almost like you’ve wanted to put as much distance as possible between you and him, which is a thought that kind of hurts because he’s been yearning for your presence since you left his apartment the morning you were supposed to leave for abroad. Your expression is entirely unreadable and Dazai doesn’t really know how to feel about that because he can’t figure out how to approach this now.

“You know, originally I was interested in you because I thought you were a lot smarter than you made yourself out to be,” you say, voice dry. Dazai nearly cheers, realizing that he did, in fact, get the best case scenario—he listens intently, mind racing as he tries to figure out what route he should take with you. “I was clearly wrong.”

Dazai pouts. “My bella thinks I’m stupid,” he sighs dramatically but his lashes flutter as he averts his gaze when you don’t find any amusement in his words, readjusting his plan. His theatrical lilt falls flat when he adds, “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think there’s a maybe,” you correct, unamused. “What do you know and what do you want?”

Dazai is almost taken aback by your tone—cold and flat, very transactional. Maybe he should have taken the lead because he doesn’t know what you mean and he doesn’t like your tone. He watches as you fish through your pocket to find a cigarette and lighter, sticking it between your lips to light it. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows.

“What?” he asks, voice a bit weak.

“What do you know and what do you want? I think they’re pretty simple questions,” you say sardonically. “I have a general idea of what you know already—if you’re here, you have more than whatever that cunt Ui has on me—and I promise you that no amount of money the Ivory Eagle will offer you can compare to what I’ll give you. Plus, I’ll have to kill you if you go to it with them so I think that’s pretty convincing in itself. I want to know exactly what you know so I can figure out how much they’d pay you for the information. I figure you want money, that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t…” Dazai trails off, a bit lost. He’s still not sure why he came here but he knows it’s not for money and honestly, he thinks he’s a little hurt that you assumed that, can feel the sting in his chest and the lump in his throat.

The smile you give him is cool, you tilt your head to the side and look at him. “Come on, Dazai, you don’t have to keep up with the act. You got close to me to get evidence for Ui, that’s obvious; probably realized it would be more worthwhile trying to get money from me to keep you quiet because they’ve barely got enough money to keep their shitty journalism house running. Honestly, I should probably just-”

“No,” Dazai forces out, interrupting you, lips parted and throat swollen—this is not going well. “That’s not-that’s not true. I didn’t get close to you to get evidence, I didn’t even know until the other day.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Dazai?” you ask, expression tight. “Because I’m not. As soon as you slipped up and said his name at the event, I realized. You think we don’t know everything that goes on in this city? About that shitty journalist group trying to expose us?”

“I didn’t slip up,” Dazai says, voice more shrill than he intended it to be. His mind falls flat at every corner as he tries to figure out how to salvage this. “I didn’t slip up because I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It wasn’t-this wasn’t some grand scheme, I like you-” (he didn’t mean to say that) “I mean-it’s just-I don’t-”

Dazai feels flustered. He feels flustered and he’s stumbling over words in a way that he hasn’t in years, unable to get out a single coherent sentence because his mind is all over the place. Shit, he thought he was going to have to defend himself from having Katai stalk you so he could figure this out and find you; he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself because you thought everything from day one was some grand scheme to expose you as a mafioso.

You clearly don’t believe him from the way you roll your eyes and it makes Dazai’s distress spike exponentially.

“Then pray tell, Dazai, why are you here? You’re here for something, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to show up here of all places to dangle over my head that you know who I am.”

The words slip from his lips before he can stop them.

“I wanted you to stop ignoring me,” he says, arms instinctively curling around his body as he stares at you, feeling more than a bit vulnerable at the blank look you give him in response to his words.

“You… want to make me stop ignoring you by… blackmailing me?”

“... Yes?”

The sigh you let out is long. Instead of responding, you take a drag of your cigarette, tilting your head back against the wall you’re leaning on to look up at the ceiling. Dazai stares at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for your response.

“What do you have on me?” you finally ask, taking a few steps forward to put the cigarette out on an ashtray before raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. “Well? I know you must have more than the location of this building.”

Dazai hesitates before he says, “Footage from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

Your expression doesn’t betray you as you press, “Footage of what?”

“You and the ginger with the ugly hat,” Dazai answers, trying not to smile at the way you clearly have to hide your amusement at his snide comment.

“What are we doing in the footage?” you ask. “What makes it condemning?”

“… He splattered six guys against the wall.”

You sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dazai. You saw that and still came here? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dazai gives you a weak smile “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, there are a lot of things wrong with me,” he tells you, echoing the words from your second meeting with him, hoping they make you lighten up.

They do.

He watches as you let out another breath, tense shoulders relaxing, suddenly looking a lot more tired as you look away from him.

“I missed you,” he adds quietly, fingers running along the hem of his sweater. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to kiss a guy like you did and then ghost him.”

“It was to keep you out of this life, Dazai,” you say tiredly. “I mean-shit, Dazai. I don’t know what you want me to do, I don’t even trust you right now, you could have a fucking wire on you for all I know and-”

“I could strip for you,” Dazai offers, lips curling up in a flirtatious smile as he flutters his lashes at you. “I’ll give you a show.”

You’re not amused.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Dazai. This is your life.”

“Well, my life has been one giant joke up until I met you so forgive me if I don’t care,” Dazai says, voice unintentionally rising in response to your words because who are you to decide on his behalf to cut him off because his life is in danger. That’s a decision for him to make. “You can’t just make those decisions for me.”

Dazai thinks he prefers the anger that crosses over your face to the tiredness and emptiness. His breath catches when he sees the way your jaw tightens and the way your eyes get fired up.

“It doesn’t just affect you, Dazai,” you hiss. “If you get pulled into this and something happens to you, that’s on me.”

Dazai’s heart jumps at the implications of your words, nails digging into his palms.

“And how does that affect you?” Dazai presses, the desperation that hangs off of his words so glaring that Dazai almost wants to curl in on himself. He wants to hear you say it, wants you to alleviate all of the thoughts threatening to consume him since you left his apartment that morning—wants to hear you say that you care, that he does mean something to you.

Your expression becomes closed off again as you realize what he wants you to say and Dazai swallows thickly, gaze searching your face for answers.

“You know how it affects me,” you finally respond as you look away. “You know, Dazai.”

It has nothing to do with what I want, you said at the event when he asked why you didn’t tell him why you didn’t want to be with him. The conflict on your face when you said things were too complicated to explain. The anger when you realized Professor Ui had purposely put him in danger trying to get evidence to condemn the Sun and Steel.

“I want you to say it,” he says hoarsely.

You don’t reply for a moment, watching him with an expression that’s impossible for him to decipher. Your brows are furrowed and your lips are pressed together tight, but the look in your eyes—there’s so much emotion in them that Dazai thinks he could get lost in them, it nearly leaves him breathless.

“You are actually the bane of my existence, Dazai Osamu,” you finally say, shoulders slumping as you look away again. Not exactly what he wanted to hear but he thinks that’s as good of an admission that he’s going to get right now.

“And the object of all of your desires?” Dazai prods with a teasing smile.

Your gaze cuts back toward him. “Did you just quote Bridgerton at me?” you ask, voice riddled with disbelief.

Embarrassed, Dazai flushes and then he hits you back with: “You watched Bridgerton?”

Instead of responding, seemingly equally embarrassed by the callout as Dazai is, you scowl at him and shake your head but your voice is lighter now when you speak—if only barely. “Honestly, Dazai, what did you think you were going to get out of this by coming here? I could have killed you. I should kill you. Coming to the headquarters of the Port Mafia to blackmail one of its executives with evidence threatening to expose them-”

“I didn’t threaten to expose you,” Dazai protests, prancing a bit more into your apartment. Now that he’s not as stressed, he can actually admire your apartment—apartment, is this even an apartment? He runs his fingers along the pristine black marble of the bar separating your kitchen from the living room, ignoring the way your eyes follow him. “I just…”

“You threatened to expose me,” you interrupt dryly. “You implied it.”

“I did not,” Dazai complains. “It’s not my fault you took it that way.”

You roll your eyes. “What were you thinking, Dazai?” you ask again.

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “I’m thinking that you’re going to take me out on a date.”

You don’t know why you’re even entertaining him.

Three days later, you’re outside Dazai’s apartment complex waiting for him to get back from his classes. You’d have gone to the campus itself but you don’t feel like having to beg Albatross or Iceman to get into the campus cameras to wipe the footage of you being there, especially knowing that it’ll get right back to Chuuya who is still under the belief that you’re no longer talking to Dazai.

You scowl as you look down at your phone, checking the time again. He should’ve been back ten minutes ago—you told him you were here waiting. Your reservation is in thirty minutes and he still has to change, you glance over your shoulder as a group of college students make their way toward the complex. You hardly stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you’d figured that the complex would be popular with the kids attending YNU—that’s why you ended up buying it—but you really don’t want to interact with any of them.

You can feel them looking at you too—fuck, you should have just stayed in your car. From the corner of your eye, you can see them exchange curious looks with one another. One of the boys nudges another, clearly beckoning him to go try to talk to you and you will strength from the gods-

You hear your name fall from familiar lips, quiet and unsure, and the unpleasant expression that you know must be on your face melts away. You let your head fall to the side over your shoulder, gaze focusing on Dazai—he’s dressed casually in a brown sweater and cream pants, school books tucked to his chest and backpack hanging off of his shoulders. He looks surprised at the sight of you so you raise your eyebrows.

“You’re late, I texted you,” you say simply as he approaches you, glancing at the car and then to you curiously.

“My phone died,” he replies sheepishly, a bit of light returning to his eyes as he comes closer to you. Warmth starts to spread through your chest when you see how the corners of his lips twitch up, fingers absently thrumming against his books. “Where are we going?”

“You’re getting changed,” you reply, nodding to the suit hanging in the passenger seat of he car, “and then-”

“Yo, Dazai-kun!”

Your eye twitches at the interruption, gaze twisting to the side to fall on one of the boys from that group you’d been dreading walking over before Dazai arrived. You notice him stiffen, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face when he hears his name being called. So, you sigh, motion for him to go into the car and grab the suit as you turn your attention to the group of approaching college students.

“We’re busy,” you say with a tight smile, tone short and perfunctory but trying to be polite.

Your eyes sweep over the one who spoke up—he’s dressed nice, slacks and a button up, tailored neatly to his body, but there’s something so distasteful about him that you can’t help the way your lip curls up in disgust. Maybe it’s because of the way Dazai looks so uncomfortable.

The man looks entirely unperturbed by your blatant dismissal, giving you a charming smile. “I’m Yoshimura Hiro—me and Daz-”

Irritated, you glance one last time at Dazai, seeing that he got the suit out of the car and shut the door. You lock the car and without another word, press your hand against Dazai’s lower back to urge him forward, walking away from the small group without another word.

Dazai can hardly muffle the snort that escapes his lips as soon as the two of you make it into the building. His eyes have regained that brightness that they’d lost when his classmates approached you, a smile curving at his lips.

“That was so rude,” he says with a grin.

“We have a reservation to make,” you tell him dryly. “I said we were busy.”

“Still, you didn’t even wait for him to finish introducing himself.”

“Would you have preferred I had?” you ask, glancing at him as he unlocks his apartment, watching as his smile falters as he shakes his head. “Why don’t you get along with them?”

Dazai shrugs but he seems a bit more awkward now as you step into his apartment. He tosses his books onto the coffee table and shrugs his backpack off onto the couch. You lean against the wall as you wait for him to respond, noting that his apartment is much cleaner than the last time you were here.

“They don’t like me,” he corrects absently, fiddling with a mug on his coffee table before bringing it over to the kitchen. “Most people don’t.”

There’s a silent question lingering at the end of the sentence—you know it, even if you couldn’t tell from the way the words hang, you can see it in the way his eyes draw over to you. Maybe he wants reassurance of some kind that you do like him, that you’re not just doing this because of the blackmail, but the words die on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you say, “Go get changed. We’re running late already.”

Dazai looks disappointed by your words—you can see it in the way his shoulders slump and his lashes lower, the corner of his lips tightening—but he lets out a dramatic sigh, muttering something under his breath before going into his bathroom to change.

Luckily, it only takes him a few minutes to get changed into the suit. He comes out as he’s still buttoning up the waistcoat—jacket slung over his shoulder. Your eyes drop down to his slim waist, eyes lingering at how neatly the vest clings to it.

Kido really did a good job, you think, having to drag your eyes back up to his face as he finally shrugs the jacket on and looks back up at you.

“You look nice,” you compliment, watching as his cheeks flush just a shade darker. “I didn’t have time to change after my meeting. If I’d known you were going to be ten minutes late, I would’ve.”

Dazai promptly scowls at you. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have waited until the last second to tell me. What if I already had plans?” he complains, but then adds, “… I think you look beautiful.”

“I wear this outfit everyday,” you dismiss, ignoring the way your chest flutters.

“I know,” he admits quietly. “You look beautiful everyday.”

Oh.

“We should go!” Dazai says suddenly, a bit too loudly to be casual. “We’re running late, aren’t we?”

You clear your throat. “Yeah,” you say. “Come on, let’s go.”

The walk back to your car is quiet—the students you’d left there are gone, thank god. You can feel Dazai looking at you every few seconds as if he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. You have half a mind to just tell him to spit it out but you still find yourself a bit flustered so you just let it be until you’re in the car.

“Where are we going anyway?” Dazai finally asks as you pull out of the complex, twisting in the passenger seat to look at you. His eyes look almost golden beneath the rays of the sun, soft and excited, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers before you force yourself to focus on the road.

“You said you wanted to go to that restaurant by your campus, didn’t you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side to raise your eyebrows before looking forward again. “Taking you there.”

“The rooftop restaurant looking over the park?” Dazai splutters, eyes widening. “You remembered that? It’s so expensive, I-”

You don’t even acknowledge the last thing he was saying. Instead, you give him a squinty look before asking, “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Dazai’s lips part as he stares at you like he’s trying to say something but can’t bring himself to. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, it makes your heart twist in on itself. It’s too intense, too close to lo-

You don’t even let yourself finish that sentence, focusing back on the road as you change the subject. “They import crabs from the Beagle Channel in southern Argentina—best quality in the world, much better than that canned shit you eat every day.”

“What do you have against canned crab?” Dazai complains, leaning his head against the window. “You hate me. How did you even get a reservation at this place? They’re booked out like ten months in advance, we talked three days ago.”

You give Dazai a heavy side eye that he understands instantly from how he rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?” you ask, giving him a pointed smile.

“Nothing,” he scowls.

You smile to yourself, focusing on driving again. The restaurant isn’t far from his complex so you get there pretty quickly. Dazai is quiet for most of the rest of the ride aside from the occasional comment about his classes. He bitches about his engineering class and all of the irritating freshman boys that he’s taking it with because it’s a 101 class, tells you vaguely about how he’s on a roll for one of his projects for his poetry workshop, explains the plot of the book he’s reading for his creative writing class, and he notably does not mention anything about his journalism class—you don’t know if it’s because he’s too awkward to bring it up or what, but you’re grateful for it because the last thing you want to do is think about him working with Ui Koutarou to expose you as a mafia executive. You still don’t even entirely believe this isn’t some whole big scheme they concocted together.

You let the car roll to a stop in front of the tower the restaurant is in, leaving it running as you put it in park and nod for Dazai to get out. You get out yourself, grabbing the keys and tossing them over to the valet with a quick thanks before leading Dazai into the building.

He looks almost wonderstruck as he steps into the tower, brown eyes wide and glittering as he looks at all of the expensive decor in the lobby of the tower. You have to physically guide him forward, arm slipping around his waist to get him moving in the direction of the elevator, but as soon as you come in contact with him, he goes rigid. Your brows furrow, about to pull your arm back but before you can, he presses his palm against the back of your hand, holding your arm in place for a quick second. You can’t help the smile that twitches to your lips when his arm drops back to his side and you catch the pretty flush staining his cheeks as he pointedly looks away.

You lead him into the elevator, catching the pout that pushes at his lips when your arm leaves his waist and you’re going to tease him for it but then you catch the oddly intense look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, throat bobbing as if considering what to say. “It’s just… no one has ever done this for me before.”

“It’s just dinner, Dazai,” you tell him, voice quiet as you look away, missing the way his expression drops at your words.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though he sounds strained now so you give him a concerned look that he tries to play off with a smile that’s too frayed at the edges for comfort. You’re about to call him out on it but you don’t get the chance because the elevator doors slide open to the restaurant on the top floor before you can.

A familiar face stands on the other side of the elevator, delighted at the sight of you. “Hime,” the owner of the restaurant greets as you step out of the elevator with Dazai, reaching out to clasp one of your hands with both of his. “I almost didn’t believe it when they said you called to see if we could get you a table tonight. It’s been so long.”

“Ah, Yoshida-san, you’ll have to forgive me,” you say with an easy smile. “You know how busy work can get.”

“Of course, of course,” Yoshida replies, glancing at Dazai and inclining his head to him. “This must be your date. Come, I’ll seat the two of you.”

Dazai looks a bit out of his depth, the smile on his face strained and an unsure look in his eyes so you reach out to hook your arm into his, leading him through the restaurant as you make idle talk with Yoshida. You’re pleased when he brings you to a table near the window with a view over the whole park and the distant bay.

Yoshida bows his head down to the two of you and lets you get settled, you take a seat but then give Dazai an odd look when he just stands there with a contemplative expression. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he suddenly moves to grab the chair opposite you.

He drags the chair from his side of the table all the way to yours. The legs scrape the floor so loudly that it draws the attention of all of the other patrons of the restaurant. You stare at him, lips parted in disbelief, but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return. He’s entirely unperturbed, plopping the chair down right next to yours and taking a seat in it. He rests his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand and watching you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” you tell him but there’s no heat to your words as the corners of your lips tug up.

“You love me anyway,” Dazai coos, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly before settling back on your eyes.

When a soft, pleased smile spreads across Dazai’s face as he leans in to nudge his shoulder against yours, you have to actively remind yourself that you’re only doing this because of the blackmail.

Dazai is already lounging on your couch when you get up to your apartment. You don’t seem to notice him—you’re clearly unhappy about something, lips twisted down and brows furrowed as you talk to someone on your phone. It’s not until Dazai peeks his head up above the back of the couch to look at you do you finally catch sight of the movement, eyes flickering to the side to focus on him.

“Thanks, Tolstoy, I’ll let you know if I need him. I appreciate it,” you say before letting the phone drop from your ear and ending the call.

For a horrifying second, your expression doesn’t change and all of those insecurities that he can’t push away—that you really are only doing this because of the video, that he’s forcing himself on you instead of giving you an excuse to actually be with him that goes above the fears that are haunting you. But then, you sigh and your shoulders slump. You toss your jacket onto the other couch before sitting with him on the one he’s sitting on, knees knocking against his.

“Hi,” Dazai says with a small smile, itching to shift closer to you but hardly refraining. “You’re late today.”

“You’re early,” you reply dryly but there’s a fond curl to the corners of your lips that makes Dazai feel nice and warm. “You know, I think you’ve been at my apartment more than yours the past week.”

Dazai’s smile becomes simpering. “Why would I stay in my small, dirty apartment when I could stay in your nice one?” he asks, watching as you roll yours. “Anyway, you love it when I’m here. Your apartment would be so lonely and boring without me.”

“It would be something alright,” you agree half-heartedly, leaning your head against the back of the couch and letting your eyes slide shut.

Dazai’s smile falters as soon as your gaze leaves him, an uncomfortable and unwelcome feeling spreading through his chest. Is he being too much? He has been spending a lot of time at your apartment but it’s because whenever he’s alone, his own thoughts threaten to consume him. They whisper too loudly about how you’d never be doing this without the blackmail, about how he’s so desperate to not be alone that he’d stoop to forcing you to hang out with him. They’re quieter when he’s here, even when you’re not, so he’s been spending as much time as possible in your apartment, doing his schoolwork and watching TV while he waits for you to come back.

“Long day?” Dazai finally asks to draw himself out of his own thoughts, watching as you look back over at him.

“Mhm,” you agree, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Lots of meetings. All with people I don’t like.”

You’ve become a bit more open over the past week—you still don’t tell him anything of importance, of course, but you’re at least not avoiding just about every topic that edges somewhat close to your ‘business’. He still feels like he doesn’t know you as well as he should and he hasn’t tried to push that anymore since the night you showed up at his apartment. He wants to try to push again but he’s just worried that he’s going to take it too far and he’ll mess it up.

He supposes he should at least try to feel it out though.

“Can I ask something?” he asks after a moment, almost wincing when you immediately cast him a suspicious look.

“The last time you asked me that, you were trying to figure out if I was in the Mafia,” you say doubtfully and Dazai’s throat goes dry as you lean back against the arm of the couch and extend your legs outward onto his lap. Hesitantly, he drops his hand onto your ankle, grip becoming more firm when you don’t instantly pull away.

“Well, we’ve already figured that out,” Dazai says with a sweet smile but then lets the smile drop as he adds more seriously, “I just want to get to know you better.”

You sigh, watching him carefully for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead,” you say. “Ask.”

“What’s your ability?”

Instantly, you sigh and look away. Dazai’s heart drops and his lips part to say something else but he doesn’t know what.

“I can’t, Dazai,” you finally tell him and Dazai tries not to be disappointed but he can’t help the way his lashes lower. “It’s not-you shouldn’t even know I have an ability. Only a handful of people know. It’s literally the most confidential secret in the-I can’t.”

“But I already know you have one,” Dazai presses, his tone coming across as far too close to a whine considering the look you give him. “What’s the harm in telling me what it is?”

“Dazai,” you say, voice becoming more edged. “You don’t understand what people would do to get intel on my ability—I’m not going to-”

“I just want to know you,” Dazai interrupts, words drawn out and throat tight. “I just-I want to know you.”

You stare at him for a moment and Dazai’s grip on your ankle tightens, expression dropping. Just as he’s about to drawback and give up, you sigh and look away from him.

“I can mess around with people’s minds,” you finally tell him, voice quiet. Dazai’s eyes widen, head snapping toward you as he waits for you to continue. “I can… induce different types of mental and physical states in the brain and mind.”

“Like… Emma Frost?” Dazai asks, squinting. You give him an odd look so he amends, “Like mind control?”

“No,” you answer. “I can’t… control minds. I can like… induce short term changes in emotions and sensations. I’m not directly manipulating them but putting them into a state and letting them work with it. They can either snap themselves out of it or make it stronger.”

“... I see,” Dazai says slowly. “So, you can make someone happy but if something makes them sad after, it’ll snap them out of it?”

“Pretty much,” you hum but there’s a weird look on your face that tells Dazai that maybe you’re not saying everything. “Some emotions are easier than others. Happiness is more… fragile, harder to sustain in a target. Fear is much more… a lot like a parasite—once you put it in someone’s head, almost everyone will start to spiral. It’s much harder to break out of.”

“The mindkiller,” Dazai notes, quoting one of his favorite books, a bit of morbid curiosity spiking, wanting to know how he would fare.

You give him an amused look. “Now, you’re quoting Dune? Quite the broad taste in media.”

“You’ve read Dune, too?” Dazai gapes. “You must be my soulmate.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Ridiculously cute,” Dazai counters immediately, smile twitching at his lips when he sees the fond expression on your face.

Then, naturally, he makes a mistake.

“Can you use it on me?” Dazai asks, leaning forward a bit. When you give him a sharp, alarmed look, he quickly fumbles out, “Not like anything big. I just want to see what it’s like. Just something sma-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” you say loudly, making Dazai draw back, hand falling from your ankle to rest on the couch next to him. You pull your legs off of his lap and sit up straight, turning your body away from him. “Just no, Dazai. Don’t ask me that again.”

“I didn’t mean-” Dazai starts to apologize but he’s flustered, not having expected a response like that from you. He fucked up. Again. Just as he was making progress. Again. “I don’t-”

“I can’t turn off my ability,” you tell him quietly after a moment. “It’s… always going to some extent. Making people around me more at ease so they feel more comfortable talking to me. I don’t like using it to its full extent if I don’t have to, not on people I consider friends at least. I never know if people… I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.”

Oh.

Dazai shifts closer to you, there’s an unreadable expression on your face as you stare ahead. He hesitates for a second before reaching out and grabbing your hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I want you for you,” Dazai stresses. When you start to shake your head and look away, he repeats, “I do. I-”

“You wouldn’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice tight. “That’s the issue, you wouldn’t know.”

“I would know,” Dazai tells you, squeezing your hand. “I would know, I want you. I do.”

You don’t respond to him this time, staring ahead and Dazai doesn’t know what to do because you look sad. You look lost in your own thoughts, consumed by whatever is running through your head. It’s familiar—the same way he probably looks whenever he lets the parasites in his brain start eating away, sending him down a dangerous spiral.

He wants to draw you out of it.

More than that, he wants to kiss you again. Desperately.

He’s yearned for it since that night in his apartment, spent long nights alone and aching for your company when he thought you were abroad. For days, he could feel his lips tingling with the ghost of yours still brushing against them, could feel the weight of your body on his hips, grounding him when he thought he would finally be consumed by the emptiness that perpetually plagues him. He thinks maybe he can draw you out in the same way you always do for him.

He wants to kiss you, and he’s about to lean in to do just that, breath catching in the back of his throat as his body becomes prickly with nerves.

You turn your head away before he can, rising to your feet and making your way to your bedroom, leaving him damningly alone in the living room of your apartment.

He lets out a shaky breath, staring down at his lap, a cold and unsure feeling taking root in his chest.

Dazai has become a constant presence in your life.

At first, it caused you nothing but stress—you constantly feared that him showing up to your apartment would lead to unwelcome eyes learning of his existence but he’s been very careful entering and leaving the building, and Klaus has been on top of the cameras. You think it’s been around a week and a half, maybe two weeks since Dazai first confronted you about everything and in that week and a half (maybe two weeks), you don’t think a single day has gone by without you coming home to find Dazai curled up on your couch or hunched over your kitchen table.

Today is no different.

Your head is pounding when you make it up to your apartment, you’d spent two hours arguing with Chuuya over how to approach the issue with Shimazaki-kai. The Sun and Steel are struggling against them in Tokyo and Mishima Michiko had come to Yokohama personally to request assistance from the Port Mafia in routing them from Shibuya-ku. You don’t want to send Chuuya there—it’s only a matter of time before the Guild shows up in Yokohama to try to take the weretiger and you’ll need Chuuya here when they do. You can’t risk sending him off now.

But Chuuya wants to go there now—says that it’s a bad look that the Port Mafia started this conflict and is now leaving the Sun and Steel to suffer the consequences. And he’s right, but the Guild is more pressing than the Shimazaki-kai.

It’s not often that the two of you disagree on tactical decisions, but when you do, the disagreements are stressful and explosive. Both of you are bullheaded and both of you are convinced that your decision is the correct one—and Lippmann wasn’t here to force you guys to settle down so it just became more and more heated until you finally stormed off.

You pause when you enter your apartment and hear a choppy tune being played on the piano in your living room—something you vaguely recognize as the beginning of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude even with the many mistakes being made. Your stress and frustration slips away as you catch sight of Dazai sitting at the piano bench, so focused on the sheet music in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your arrival.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you quietly make your way over to him, watching as he pauses in the song and sighs, clearly frustrated by his mistakes. You take the opportunity to slide your hand across his shoulder blades; he jumps beneath your touch, eyes widening as he twists his neck to look up at you, cheeks flushing.

“I didn’t know you played,” you say absently. “If you want, I can have the spare room on this floor made into a music room for you.”

You don’t know why you offer it, but you enjoy the look in his eyes as his gaze focuses on you: big and imploring, full of emotion. It’s a welcome change from the livid expression Chuuya had been casting your way for the past few hours.

“I don’t really,” Dazai says awkwardly. “I was just trying it out.”

“Well, do you like it?” you ask him, taking a seat on the bench next to him, fingers lingering on his lower back.

“I think so,” he tells you after a few moments, lashes fluttering as he looks down at the keys and then back up at you. “I think my mother used to play… I don’t really remember her, but I can vaguely remember a song she used to play.”

There’s an odd look in his eyes as he averts his gaze and you squeeze his side gently before saying, “Maybe the more you play, the more it’ll come back to you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees half-heartedly, looking at you again, more carefully this time. “Are you okay?”

You pause, not having expected him to catch onto your bad mood so quickly when you were doing your best to hide it, but you finally sigh and shake your head.

“Yeah,” you tell him, motioning for him to get up so the two of you can move over to the much more comfortable couch. “Stressful day. I thought you had class on Wednesdays.”

“It was online today,” Dazai says, propping his arms up on the back of the couch as he sits up. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until super late tonight.”

You scoff. “Yeah, until I got into a fight with Chuuya,” you mutter, making your way over to him to sit on the couch with him, looking at the puzzle he has spread out on your coffee table. “Where’d you get this?”

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “You left your computer open yesterday, I ordered some things.”

Dazai inches closer to you, there’s an indecipherable expression on his face, lips parted and eyes a bit wide. You can feel his knee nudging yours and you know what he wants. He’s been trying to make subtle moves on you for days but you just… You don’t know. You’re scared.

You’re scared.

You don’t think you’ve felt this way since you were a kid, trapped in that room in the military base on Tokoyami Island desperately trying to understand what your ability was so you wouldn’t be thrown back out into a warzone. Except now, it’s not just your fate on the line—every decision you make, Dazai’s life hinges on it and you’ve been making stupid ones for weeks. Even now, letting him stay at your apartment… Even if you do own all of the cameras, even if Klaus is on top of it, even if Dazai is being careful, it’s only a matter of time before a mistake is made.

You don’t know what you’re still holding out for. Maybe a chance to make him understand what exactly is at stake, break things off with you on his own… Maybe you’re waiting for something else. Your conversation with Tolstoy echoes through your head, his offer of sending Ilya Repin to you for you to utilize as you please.

Ilya Repin. A Crucession in Oakwood.

Someone who can wipe Dazai’s memories of you so you can send him back off to live a normal life, make him forget he ever met you. It’s not something you want to do, fiddling with people’s minds… you know better than anyone that it’s not something to take lightly. But would it be worth it to ensure he lives? That he doesn’t get drawn any further into your shitshow life? The thought makes your chest ache painfully but if it means he would be safe.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away, and you can feel the disappointment emanating off of him, you can feel his fingers brushing your arm, but before you can say anything to him, you hear your elevator bing.

Someone arriving at your floor.

Your eyes widen as you rise to your feet, you cast Dazai a panicked look. He follows after you, unsure of what he should do. Klaus is across the city—he’s the only one that can come up to your apartment without permission besides-

Besides Chuuya.

Oh shit.

“Go to the kitchen,” you say, voice tight and stressed, you push Dazai forward to get him moving. You cannot let Chuuya know that Dazai is here. “Get to the-”

“Yo.” You hear Chuuya say, voice low and distracted as he steps into your apartment. He’s looking down at a bottle of wine, so you wave your hand at Dazai frantically, shooing him into the kitchen. He shoots you a panicked look before rushing into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to let shit get so heated before.”

“You’re good,” you tell him, careful to keep the strain from your voice as Chuuya finally looks up from the bottle and makes his way over to you. “Takes two, I shouldn’t have been so quick to snap at you.”

“Nah.” Chuuya shakes his head, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been going through shit. The Boss constantly on your ass, having to drop that kid you liked-” shit “-I should’ve let it go instead of pressing. Brought you this.”

Oh, you’re in a bad spot. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as you race to figure out what to do. You have to get Chuuya out of your apartment, but the man knows you so well that it’ll be impossible to do that without raising suspicion. If this were any other day and Dazai Osamu wasn’t hiding in your kitchen, you would be trying to worm more than just a bottle of wine out of Chuuya—probably dinner and a night out to go along with it—but he’ll want to crack open the bottle before going out and your wine glasses are in your kitchen.

Shit.

“An ‘82 Rothschild,�� you drawl. “You’re really trying to butter me up.”

Chuuya gives you a smile that makes you feel guilty. “‘Cause I feel like shit,” he mutters and you hardly refrain from wincing because you know he wouldn’t if he knew the truth.

You think you might be the worst person alive.

“How about we put it in the wine fridge and head out for the night?” you hum, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t you want to try that new bar by the ports in Naka? The one Lippmann went to with his coworkers? We’ll save the wine for us to celebrate after we wipe out the Shimazaki-kai.”

A good move. You almost pat yourself on the back for it—Chuuya’s been talking about this bar for weeks, but hasn’t gotten a break from work to actually go check it out. He was livid the other day when he found out Albatross and Iceman went without him. Plus, you implied that you’d give in a little on the argument you were having with him earlier; maybe you won’t send him to Tokyo to help the Sun and Steel but you could probably send Klaus or Akutagawa to ease Chuuya’s stress over the situation.

Please, please, please, please-

“Nah,” Chuuya says, shaking his head. “Maybe another night. I’ll go grab some glasses, find a movie?”

Oh, fuck me.

“I’ll get them,” you say instead, too quickly from the way Chuuya is instantly casting a suspicious look in your direction so you pivot with: “I picked the last movie. It’s your turn.”

“You hate when I pick movies,” Chuuya says with a frown, studying you carefully before letting his eyes trail over to the kitchen. He’s thinking too hard, you realize, stressed, you need to make him stop before he figures out you don’t want him to go in there because once he realizes that, there’s no shot he won’t be rushing over there. “What’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” you say easily. “I’m in the mood to trash one of your low budget horror movies.”

Chuuya instantly gives you an offended look and you think, for a moment, that you’ve succeeded. “Well, I’m not in the mood to hear you bitch halfway through the movie, so pick a damn movie.”

Chuuya rises to his feet, putting the bottle of wine down on the coffee table and you want to rip your hair out—why is he so fucking stubborn? You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him, teeth grinding together, and when Chuuya looks back at you, you know that he knows.

“What’s in the kitchen?” Chuuya asks, voice low.

“None of your business,” you reply, jaw tight. “Sit down and let me get the glasses.”’

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” Chuuya snaps and rips his wrist from your grasp and storms over to the kitchen.

You race behind him, only able to watch as everything starts to crumble. You try to grab his wrist again but he slips out from your hold. For a scary second, you genuinely debate using your ability on him just to convince him to stop, to make him leave, but you disregard the thought as soon as it passes through your head, horrified with yourself.

“Chuuya, stop,” you say desperately, a last ditch attempt to make him stop, hoping that maybe when he hears how serious you are about this that he might reconsider, but it’s Chuuya, so of course he doesn’t.

You know it’s over when he freezes in the doorframe of your kitchen, staring into the room like he’s seen a ghost. Dreadfully, you come to stand at his side, looking over his shoulder to see what exactly he’s looking at, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Dazai sits on the floor, half hiding behind your counter but unable to fully because of his height; his legs are too long to fit behind the counter and his head is peeking above the marble, brown eyes wide as he looks between the two of you. He focuses his attention on Chuuya, who stares at him mutely in disbelief.

Dazai finally says, “Your hat is tackier in person.”

Oh my god.

Chuuya doesn’t even react to the snide comment which you think is testimony to how angry he really is. He drags his gaze from Dazai over to you and you can see the rage swimming in his eyes. You don’t know how to approach this—Chuuya is always unpredictable when he’s angry—so you think maybe you should wait for him to say something first, but that’s also risky because once he’s set off, he’s set off.

“You lied to me,” Chuuya says, voice low. “I was sitting here feeling guilty and-”

“I didn’t lie to you,” you interrupt, shaking your head, but that only pisses Chuuya off more from the way he shoots a pointed look at Dazai. “I didn’t. I did cut him off, Chuuya. I-”

“He’s sitting on your kitchen floor,” Chuuya’s spits, voice raising as he works himself up. “You let me sit here feeling guilty about this when-”

Chuuya suddenly cuts himself off, eyes widening as he stares at you, and a pit forms in your stomach, realizing he must have just come to another conclusion. Distress begins to pile in your chest because you can’t figure out what to do, frustration because this wasn’t supposed to happen. You want to look over to Dazai but you know it will only serve to piss Chuuya off even more.

“‘Is that what she told you?’” Chuuya whispers Mori’s words from a few weeks ago. “Don’t even tell me that the war with the Inagawa-kai began because of him. You told me they attacked you.”

You grimace, turning your face away and Chuuya lets out a high and reedy laugh, eyes wild with disbelief. You can feel Dazai’s curious eyes on you and you just want to curl in on yourself.

“We went to war with two Yakuza syndicates because of him-”

“We went to war because of what happened with your-” you begin to say, angry at the hypocrisy.

“And she died anyway,” Chuuya shouts, a familiar, eerie red glow beginning to emanate from his hands as he starts to lose control of his ability in his anger. “You couldn’t save her then, what makes you think you can save him now?”

You draw back as if you’d been slapped—you think you might’ve been better off getting slapped than hearing Chuuya say that. You stare at him blankly, watching as he looks over at Dazai, but you can’t bring yourself to follow his gaze.

“It would be more merciful if I just killed him now,” Chuuya says coolly. “Spare him from-”

You only move when he takes a step forward, grabbing his wrist and pressing your forearm hard against his upper chest to shove him into your fridge. Chuuya doesn’t expect you to get physical so his eyes widen as his back hits the fridge, gaze darting back to focus on you. The familiar feeling of the Tainted Sorrow sweeps over your body, coating you in that destructive red glow.

For a moment, neither of you move.

“We both know you won’t use your ability on me,” you finally say, keeping your voice low. “I’ll fuck up your brain so badly that you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for weeks if you take another step toward him.”

Chuuya doesn’t budge for a second, the tension in the room rising with each passing second. After a few minutes, he finally turns off his ability, taking in a deep breath as he shakes his head and looks away. You step back and Chuuya sighs as he leans against the fridge, forcing himself to look back at you.

“I did cut him off after we talked… ish,” you tell him and Chuuya gives you a flat look. “I did. I ran into him at the ports. One of the kyodai of the Inagawa-kai showed up, saw me with him. Klaus killed him. We had to act before they found out we drew first blood.”

“Oh my god,” Chuuya complains, pressing his hands to his eyes. “You-I had to use Corruption. The entire northern ward-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say tightly. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I-”

You let out a breath, glancing once at Dazai who’s watching you with an indecipherable expression and then ask Chuuya, “Can we go into the other room?”

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, an offended expression on his face, but you ignore him. “You’re talking about me-” he starts to protest but Chuuya gives him a sharp look that makes Dazai blanch even more, looking to you for support but you look away, missing the way his expression crumbles.

As soon as the two of you are in the other room, Chuuya gives you a hard look, waiting for you to continue.

“I cut him off after what happened at the port and I ran into him again at the event a few weeks ago,” you say quietly. “His professor for one of his classes is a journalist working for the Ivory Eagle, he has three kids—including Dazai—doing his dirty work trying to find proof of the Mori Corporation being a front for the Port Mafia.”

Chuuya stares at you. “What?” he asks blankly.

“Yeah, I know,” you grimace. “Dazai found the proof. He has a video of us from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

“You’re letting yourself be blackmailed by a college student?” Chuuya demands loudly. You give him a sharp look, but it’s too late, Dazai is already looking into the room with an indecipherable expression on his face, lashes lowering as his gaze falls to the ground. “You’re a fucking mafia executive, are you fucking with me right now?”

Your eye twitches in frustration, casting one last look in Dazai’s direction, watching the way his brows furrow as he thinks up a storm in that head of his—nothing good, you’re sure, but you can’t do anything about it right now.

“I’m not going to kill him, Chuuya,” you hiss under your breath. “Would you have killed her if she found out?”

Chuuya lets out a heavy breath and looks away, not answering your question but that’s an answer in itself.

“Look,” you continue, glancing at where Dazai had been standing only to realize that he’d walked away. You sigh and lower your voice. “I’m working on something. I just… I need time to figure out how to go about it. I don’t want him in this life either, Chuuya. I’m not that selfish.”

Yes, you are, a distant part of you whispers. Otherwise, you would have handled this as soon as he came to your apartment that first day.

Chuuya shakes his head. “You need to be careful. You have him in our headquarters, in your apartment. Do you know how thin of a line you’re treading? The slightest slip up-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say, strained. “I know.”

“Figure it out quickly,” Chuuya murmurs. “I’ll do what I can in the meantime to keep the heat off of you. Just… quit fucking around.”

Chuuya gives you a steady look and you know that he knows that you’re using this as an excuse to indulge in Dazai when you shouldn’t be. You can hardly hold his gaze, lashes fluttering as you look down. He reaches out to squeeze your forearm and you turn your head away, trying to figure out what the fuck you’re going to say to Dazai.

“Yeah, I will.”

Dazai pretends like everything is fine.

He’s still sitting cross-legged on your bed when you finally come looking for him, hands in his lap and back straight. You lean against the doorframe, an uncharacteristically soft expression on your face as you look at him—Dazai hates it, because he knows that he’s not going to like whatever you’re about to bring up to him so he decides he needs to evade the conversation in whatever manner possible.

“Did that pipsqueak leave?” Dazai huffs, only finding a bit of consolation in the way your lips curl up into a smile at his insult.

“He did,” you agree, pushing off the doorframe to make your way over to him. Dazai swallows thickly when you take a seat in front of him on the bed. You lean back on your hands, head falling to the side as you observe him. “I didn’t think he was coming over today. We’d just gotten into an argument so things were already tense. I’m sorry that it blew up on you like that.”

Dazai doesn’t want to talk about this, so instead, he smiles and says, “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Your brow furrows at the way he dismisses your comment—god, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He knows where it’s going to lead, he knows you’re only doing this because of the blackmail and he knew from day one that it wasn’t going to work forever but he’d hoped maybe he’d be able to woo you before then, make you want him for him, want him enough to decide he’s worth the risk. He should’ve known better—he really should have—but he’s not ready to let go just yet.

So, before you can bring it back up again, Dazai forces the smile on his face to come across a little more genuine as he tilts his head and hums, “I found a good horror movie. I’m stealing your pillow to hide behind while we watch.”

Please.

He knows you can see through the sweet smile and honeyed words but he begs you to just pretend you don’t one last time. After what feels like an eternity, you finally sigh, gaze dropping to your lap for a second before you look back up at him and say, “You’re not taking my pillow.”

Dazai doesn’t have to force a smile now, lighting up as he waves your pillow in the air and sings, “Too late!” before darting off the bed and into the other room.

“Dazai!” you call after him loudly and he tosses a smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the other room. He can hear you chasing after him and though his chest does feel a bit lighter, he can’t push away the cold, empty feeling that’s slowly starting to consume him.

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

459 notes · View notes