Mori - Blog Posts
Chapter 2 ↓
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*..・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
You were signing some documents as you sat in your office, it wasn't anything hard
You were just signing them, not bothering to look at it, as you wanted to finish quickly.
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"Ugh finally, the last document, I can finally rest now." You said as you put away the documents, suddenly, there was a knock on your door
"Miss/Mr, [Name] , I came here to collect the documents you signed." Your assistant, Akane said as she came to collect your documents.
"Thank you Akane, could you bring me a cup of [Hot Beverage]"
"Of course, Miss/Mr. [Name], Hehe, signing all these documents must've been tiring huh?" Akane said with a giggle.
"Yeah.." You replied with a sigh, kind of annoyed because you wanted to drink [Hot Beverage] as soon as possible.
"Oh my, I must get going know, I'll bring you your [Hot Beverage] soon."
'Finally' you thought as she left quickly, you checked your phone to see a dozen of missed calls and messages, whoops.
Nakahara Chuuya
[Name] are you there??
Yes, I am, what's the matter?
Boss requested to see you... An hour ago..
Oh shi*t..
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You were really fucked now, you mumbled curses as you dashed out of your office, bumping into Akane in the way.
You let out a quick apology and continued running.
Surprisingly you got there less than 6 minutes later, which is kinda impressive because the distance from your office and the bosses office is really far.
You cautiously knocked on the door
"Come in."
As you opened the door there was the boss, Mori Ougai in all his glory, sitting in the chair behind the desk, his 'Daughter' Elise on the floor beside him, drawing with crayons.
"You requested to see me, boss?"
"Yes, an hour ago actually." Oh shit
"I deeply apologize for my behavior, boss"
"Hm, I guess I could let it slide this time, don't make this mistake again."
"Understood, boss." You sighed in relief.
"Anyways I have a mission for you.
this mission is..."
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As you walked out of the office you thought of the mission he just gave you, you had to go undercover as a detective in the armed detective agency, gain their trust and steal the documents that are important to him.
The only reason why he chose you is because neither Dazai nor Yosano knew who you where, otherwise he would've picked someone else.
As you were walking you spotted Chuuya and walked over to him.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Gah! You scared me you bastard.. What do you want? Did you get a mission from boss?"
"I did actually."
~ After explaining the mission ~
"YOU HAVE TO WHAT?!"
"Tsk, could you quiet down, I don't want the whole world to hear you."
After he calmed down he asked you
"But why you? Why couldn't he pick Me or someone else?"
"It's because Dazai knows who you are Chuuya."
"I get it, but why not someone else like Tachihara?!"
"The black Lizard raided the agency, remember? He was there."
He nodded in realisation, then asked again
"Do you want to drink some wine? My treat."
And how could you say no to that?
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Chapter one of this is over, I'll post chapter two tomorrow, I know I should have picked wattpad or something else to write chapters, but I chose Tumblr. Also, who do you want your love interest to be?
[Reader] is gender neutral, Akane is my Oc btw, she's not a love interest :)
Sometimes, I think about the fact that Odasaku and Atsushi were the only two people Dazai really cared about to ever ask why he wanted to die. (Oda in The Day I Picked Up Dazai and Atsushi in 55 minutes). Kunikida and Chuuya just acknowledged it and believed it to be a part of him. But Odasaku and now Atsushi wanted to know why. They wanted to understand him because they truly care about him and see his goodness more than anyone else and alifodishfsdlfd
*prayer hands* fic prompt: cooking a new recipe with milo, chill and domestic vibes! ✨️
Rain battered the apartment windows as you fetched an oversized sweatshirt and returned to the kitchen. Milo was leaning against the fridge, printed sfogliatelle recipe in hand. He wore a simple black short-sleeved shirt. The man never seemed to get cold.
"We could just go to a restaurant," he said, and you sighed.
You'd already bought the honey, flour, milk, all of the ingredients, and organized them along with the cookware you’d need on the kitchen counter. You’d even bought a pasta machine. "You can't usually get sfogliatelle at a restaurant."
"What if you gave them a tip?"
Ugh. "I specifically picked out this recipe because it's hard to find unless you go to an Italian bakery. I thought it would be something special."
Milo glanced at you over the piece of paper, his violet eyes a shade darker in the moody, overcast light. You began pulling the sweatshirt over your head, but struggled with the mass of fabric. You felt Milo tug at the sides to help you put it on. “You might actually find something that fits if you wore one of your own sweatshirts for once.”
“But yours are so cozy.”
Now it was his turn to sigh. “Where should I start with the recipe?"
“Measure out the flour and salt, please.”
He grabbed a cup and spoon. You went to work measuring the water and honey, occasionally stealing glances at Milo’s neutral expression. It was cute to watch him focus on cooking. Earlier, you had almost convinced him to wear an apron with hearts printed on it, but he backed out, saying you were going to take pictures. Which you were, of course.
"Is there a special occasion I forgot about?" Milo said without looking over at you.
"Hm...? Why do you ask?”
"You said making the recipe would be special."
"Does it need to be a special occasion for us to do something nice together? It's special because I'm making it with you."
He went quiet at this and dumped the measured flour and salt together, while you gradually added the water and honey to the dry mixture.
The other times Milo cooked with you, it didn't feel overly romantic. Not that you needed it to, but maybe mixing butter and flour or dicing tomatoes didn't exactly put him in the mood. In any case, it was still nice to do something together.
With the ingredients mixed, you kneaded the soft dough that had formed.
“Anything else for the moment?” Milo said.
“Nope, the dough will go in the fridge for half an hour after this.”
Milo gave your head a quick pat and you watched him leave the room. He could’ve at least stuck around a few minutes longer. But at least later you’d get to try out the pasta machine together, and then you’d give him the job of making the filling.
Music kicked up in the other room. "La Canzone del Sol." He had put on one of his records. Must be feeling Italian.
You heard footsteps behind you and felt Milo's firm chest lightly press against your back. His chin rested on your shoulder as he slid his hands down your arms.
"Better?" He whispered the word into your ear, giving you chills.
"I..." you trailed off.
"If you want it to be special, I'll make it special. I can do the rest of the kneading, too."
His hands replaced yours and he went to work kneading the dough a bit too sensually for him to just be thinking about Italian desserts. He rocked you gently back and forth to the music, as you tucked your arms up into the sweatshirt, completely enveloped in his warmth.
"And I'll feed it to you when it’s done, if that’s what you want."
“Never said I wanted that,” you mumbled.
“So you’re going to feed it to me?”
You sighed and nuzzled your head into his arm. You were glad he couldn't see your expression.