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notenoughgauze · 2 days ago

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A Vision to Himself

WARNING SMUT AHEAD! MDNI

I wrote this a while ago and posted on A03. Wanted to see how it does on tumblr as I'm trying to build a good amount of blurbs so i can start taking requests. Enjoy

She smiled with mischievousness. Her cunt begging her to do more than just rub her throbbing clit with deft fingers. She opened her little box of trinkets and pulled out her favorite toy. It's a simple wand vibrator, it's nothing unique but it does wonders for her pleasure. She lays on her bed, usually opting to cover her lower half with the covers, she instead strips and allows herself to be fully bare to her self-inflicting pleasure. She places the tip of the wand right where it could kiss her clit perfectly and turns it on to the lowest setting. She lets out a sigh of relief. She finally had the privacy to have her way with herself.

Unknown to her an unusually flustered man watched her from his cameras he placed as a security measure. Fyodor's cheeks grew a shade of pink that looked misplaced and wrong on his normally apathetic face. He had just planned on checking in on her while he was away, he had no motive to watch her so intimately. The room felt hot around him and his pants strained against his growing hardness. He was familiar with sexual needs of course, he had them of his own, albeit rare, they were there. However, he had never truly experienced it with another like most his own age would have done dozens of times by then. To see a woman so beautiful unveil herself to him, allowing him to listen to her enjoyment. He can't stop himself from leaning closer to the screen, to see her touch herself in ways he's only thought of, his hands twitch to relieve himself the same as she is.

He feels as though he was an average teenage boy, just learning new urges within himself. Fyodor felt it was below him, he wasn't one to be driven by primal needs, but watching her, hearing her, imagining her begging to him, calling his name so sweetly. He gives in, just this once. His cold hand is harsh against the pounding warmth of his cock. His eyes widen when she stands, he's graced with her lovely backside He studies every inch of her ass he can, committing it to unfailing memory. He imagines massaging it, tracing his slim fingers over every dimple ingrained in it. He groans softly at the thought.

She Lays in the bed again, giggling to herself in anticipation for her new addition. She positions herself into a new position, pulling her legs to her chest as much as she can before bringing the new toy into his view. It's a slim dildo, he compares how his own cock would be thicker and longer than the simple thing, before he can compare more, she brings it to her lips and sucks on it a bit, taking it as deep as she can while playing with herself. He stops stroking himself in favor of studying her. His eyes don't know where to look, her lovely lips wrapped around the fake dick or her cute fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. His mouth feels dry at the images of her taking his cock in her mouth instead. He resumes his movements, trying to clumsily match her pace. He feels so dirty when he fights a whine as she takes the object out of her mouth. He watched as she lines it up to her hole. His breath hitches when she pushes it in and lets out a soft moan.

He stroked in unison as she fucks herself for him unknowingly. He wants to feel her wrapped around him instead of his own hand. He wants to watch her tits bounce and her mouth hang open in a silent moan like it is now. He wants to fuck her so good that no toy or other man will ever satisfy her in comparison. He moans when she increases her speed, a sucker for instant gratification much like he is. She loses herself to the cock fucking her and he loses himself to her beauty and his imagination. She lets out a guttural moan and stops her movements. Her legs shake as a satisfied but tired smile plasters on her face. He spills all over his hand at the glorious sight.

As she goes to the bathroom to clean up out of his view, Fyodor catches his breath and comes to terms with what just happened. She makes him so weak. He's grateful for his photographic memory at this moment. Until he can 'make love' to her himself, he'll allow himself to relive her adventure when he's feeling "weak" again.

#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bungo stray dogs #smut #fyodor x reader #bsd x reader #bsd

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notenoughgauze · 3 days ago

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ᡣ𐭩 LOVERS ROCK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: there are very few things that leave dazai osamu at a loss for answers. you are one of them. more specifically, it's your relationship (is this a relationship?) with him that has him so disconcerted, and dazai is getting to his breaking point.

(wordcount: 3.6k; nsfw [kind of, very suggestive so will label nsfw], ada!reader, dazai has SEVERE trust issues & paranoia, this is set like half a year after he joined the ada, dazai also has a bad relationship with sex that is mentioned in his narration, he is terrible at communication too, accidentally hurts reader a little [nothing major])

AUTHOR'S NOTES: hiiiiiii guys <.< so i'm actually really proud of this ehehe. this is a universe that i'm tempted to expand on like wykyk, but we'll see.

Dazai hates giving up control.

Ever since he was a kid, he’s been hyper-independent. First with his family, because they were never around and he had to learn to be self-sufficient otherwise he’d die a slow, painful death. Then in the Port Mafia, he quickly learned that asking for help is a weakness and being dependent on others is a vulnerability that people would take advantage of to subvert his influence and usurp his position as an underboss. As long as he’s remembered, it was all but a death sentence to rely on any other than himself.

It wasn't until he became a member of the Agency that he finally began to allow himself to depend on others—banking on Ranpo and his mind, Kunikida and his ideals, Yosano and her tenacity. But even then, he never allowed himself to lose complete control over a situation, drawing things out in a way that would always leave him with a firm hand guiding the chess board.

Until he met you, at least.

He wasn’t sure what made you so different—he still isn’t entirely sure, it’s a thought that frequently plagues him, and because of it, he can never allow himself to be fully comfortable with you. You joined the Agency a month after him with lips that spoke pretty words and gave him even prettier smiles. You’d been kind to everyone, but Dazai likes to think you were especially kind to him. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Dazai liked the idea of it.

Well, he didn’t at first.

In fact, he was rather hostile to it. To you. The longing he felt for the casual, soft touches you laid upon the other members of the Agency felt more like a weakness than anything else. It scared him. He’d never desired anything of the sort before, he’d always been okay on his own—thrived in it, really—and now he was suddenly seeking you out at all hours of the day, and he didn’t even fully understand why. Every time he sought you out, it ended poorly with him saying something uncalled for and your expression twisting as you tried to hide your hurt.

And yet he still continued to seek you out. He made the same mistake over and over again: constantly forcing himself into your space after getting jealous watching you doll out casual affection to the other detectives, waiting for you to give him the same attention, and then lashing out in some manner when you finally did.

He supposed it didn’t help that Dazai was uncomfortable in general with people touching him, which naturally made him even more hostile because why was he longing for something that made him uncomfortable?

He also still isn’t sure how you managed to break through all of his walls—or why you even persisted when it became clear that he was at best incompetent when it comes to dealing with real emotions, and at worst, borderline malicious.

But you did. And it scared him. Scares him.

Dazai lets out a shaky breath when he feels your lips ghost against his neck, fingers twisting the sheets below him. Your hands are sliding against his sides, gentle and soothing, and a part of him wants to melt into the sheets while another part of him wants to flip the two of you around, press you back down into the mattress and rip control over the situation back from you.

As if you can sense his conflict—maybe you can, Dazai has come to realize that unlike everyone else at the Agency, who he can fool with his mask of exaggerated dramatics and clownlike behavior, that you had somehow learned how to see right through him—you pause for the sparest moment and trace your lips back up his neck to brush them against his own, soft and comforting, as if to soothe his discord.

And it works somehow. Dazai doesn’t know how you do it because he can’t even quell his own mind when it starts to spin out of control, but the brush of your lips against his is enough to ground him again.

“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his face for the answers that he knew his lips might not give.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice rough and cracking over the word.

He thinks maybe a part of it is the way you always check on him to make sure he’s doing alright. For Dazai, sex has only ever been transactional—he was young when he was first carted off to a whorehouse so he could be taught how to use his body for intel and other miscellaneous advantages. No matter how hard he tried to enjoy it, he always found it to be underwhelming at best and loathsome at worst. And he did try to enjoy it, he forced himself to seek out women in his free time to try to learn to enjoy the activity that so many other people seem to find comfort and pleasure in.

It wasn’t until you that he could.

His first time with you was earth shattering. He’s not exaggerating when he says it completely altered his perspective on intimacy. It was embarrassing, almost—he remembers giving you quick, flirty smiles, and he remembers the sly comments he whispered to you at the bar the members of the Agency were at to celebrate Yosano’s birthday.

He knew that morning that he wanted you in his bed by nightfall—partly because he thought it would get you out of his system, that maybe all he needed was a good fuck to stop acting like he was brainless whenever you were around, and partly because he was curious. He was curious to know if that genuine demeanor of yours continued behind closed doors, or if it was all just a mask you liked to put up in public.

Dazai’s hands were on you before the two of you even left for the night—they were creeping up your inner thigh, lingering on your bicep, he was resting his chin on your shoulder as he stood behind you, warding off any man that might try to approach you with cold looks you couldn’t catch. Eventually, like he planned, you asked him if he wanted to go back to your apartment, and Dazai agreed, of course, eager to get his questions answered. Eager to free himself of whatever shackles you’ve put on him.

And it all went downhill from there.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask again, frown deepening and hands stilling on his waist when you don’t find an answer you like on his face.

Dazai tries to play it off—you’re here for sex, not all of his unstable thoughts. He gives you a practiced smile and slips his hand under your shirt to rest on your lower back, pulling you firmer against him—an easy tactic, one of the first he learned to distract his partner when he slips up.

He should have known better than to think you would fall for it.

Instead of returning to the lingering line of kisses you were leaving on his neck, you sit back to study him, and Dazai feels seen. He shifts under your scrutinizing gaze, averting his eyes to the ceiling and counting the seconds that pass as he waits for you to ask that dreaded question.

“What's wrong?” you ask him quietly.

Dazai can evade it. He knows that he can—even if the sex is ruined, because he knows you’re not going to have sex with him if you think something is wrong, he can evade this question by refusing to answer. You never press it, although sometimes your lips curve down in a disappointed frown that makes him feel even worse than before.

But Dazai finds himself hesitating.

“I-“ he starts to say before cutting himself off abruptly, horrified by the realization that he was just about to admit to you what he was thinking. “Nothing.”

The anticipation that had sprung to your eyes when he started to speak dissipates when he blows you off, and it makes his chest tighten. He feels your thighs tense and knows you’re about to get off of him, so his hands fly to your hips to keep you in place.

“Something,” he corrects, voice just a little too raspy for comfort. “… Something.”

You settle back down on top of him, tilting your head to the side.

“Tell me?” you offer quietly, your hands drop to his arms, sliding up and down the bandages that cover his forearms slowly. Soothingly. He hates it.

“I just don’t understand this,” Dazai admits. “It’s… confusing.”

It's possibly the first time he’s ever spoken these words out loud. It’s a weakness he’s never allowed anyone to be aware of—even when Dazai has no idea what’s going on, he’s careful to put up an impenetrable facade of confidence, one that even the keenest eyes can’t see through.

And here he is, bare of masks and facades, admitting his weakness plainly to someone who could easily take advantage of it.

Oh.

“This as in…?” you prompt with a pondering frown.

Is that it?

“This,” he repeats more insistently as his mind races. “Us.”

You, he accuses silently.

You have the ability to destroy him. Dazai realizes, disconcerted, that this is what is confusing him. He's allowed himself to be weak in front of you. He's lowered all of his guards. He's let you in through his many walls of defenses. You’ve settled down in the treacherous beating thing in his chest that he’s tried to rip out too many times to count, and Dazai waits for you to take advantage of it. He waits for this to go wrong. Waits for you to prove yourself to be a Trojan Horse in the form of dazzling smiles and a beautiful face.

But you don’t, and that’s what Dazai just can’t understand. He doesn’t understand what you’re getting out of this—he knows what he’s getting out of it. He’s getting comfort, he’s able to pretend he’s capable of being loved, he gets you. But you’re not getting anything out of this, so he feels like he’s just been biding time before the other shoe drops.

“… What about us do you not understand?” You sound perplexed, and it agitates Dazai. Worse, you can tell it agitates him because immediately you run your thumb over the pulse point on his wrist to soothe him. You add quickly with a small smile, “I'm not understanding now, help me?”

It is beyond disconcerting that even though he knows it was a ploy to distract and soothe him, it works anyway. Dazai needs to do something about this.

“What do you get out of this?” Dazai decides to ask the question plainly instead of dancing around his words, partially because of the agitation and partially because he just needs an answer. Desperately. “What do you get out of what’s going on between us? I don't understand why you keep agreeing to meet me, why you initiate it sometimes. I need to know what it is you get."

Sex is transactional—it always is. Each party has to get something out of it, and if you don't know what the other is getting, then you have made a perilous mistake somewhere along the line. Dazai has known this since the beginning, but he allowed himself too long to bask blindly in the comfort of your arms and bed. He can’t keep doing this without knowing what you’re getting, It’ll come back to haunt him.

You’re still confused by his question even with the explanation, he can see it in the way the thoughts race behind your eyes as you try to piece it together.

Eventually you settle on a smile that’s almost playful as you answer with, “You?”

Dazai’s frown deepens at your words, his expression becomes a bit colder. He thinks you’re evading the question because you don’t want to answer it, and that’s dangerous. You joined the Armed Detective Agency not long after him—were you a plant sent to get close to him by one of his old enemies? By Mori? His thoughts start to spiral dangerously. These are questions he should’ve been having months ago when you first joined the Agency, not now.

“What are you really getting?” His grip on your hips tightens. “Tell me. Stop avoiding the question.”

Your expression becomes a bit more alarmed when he closes off from you, he thinks maybe his grip on your hips might be painful from your wince but he can’t afford to let go until he has his answer.

“You, Dazai,” you say again, more insistently this time. “I get you. I get to spend time with you. be with you. That’s what I get.”

“But why?” Dazai presses, raising his voice, holding you tighter. He is hurting you now, he can tell from the way you try to bat his hands away, but he couldn’t let go if he wanted to. His blood pressure is rising as he realizes how badly he might have messed up. All of Ango’s efforts—Odasaku’s last request—all down the drain because of one mistake. “Why? What information are you trying to get? Who sent you? Who are you work-“

“What?” you demand. The confusion in your eyes is almost believable—Dazai thinks you must’ve been sent by someone important if you’re this good of an actress. His thoughts track back to Mori and his mind starts to fog with fury. “Who sent me? What are you-Dazai-I want you because I care about you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The fog clears, Dazai stares at you blankly, hands loosening on your hips. He's not sure he heard you correctly, so he says: “What did you just say?”

Your expression softens a bit, and you repeat, “I care about you. I want you because I care about you.”

“No, you don’t,” Dazai says immediately. Instinctually.

“Yes, I do.” Dazai has never seen you get irritated before, but your face twists when he instantly denies your words. “I do, Dazai.”

“You don’t,” he insists. “You can’t. You don’t even know me, you don't care about me.”

He thinks he almost would have preferred that you had some ulterior motive to this. He hates the way his chest swells with hope—hope is dangerous, more dangerous than any other emotion. Fear, anger, sadness, none of it compares to the light that tries to bloom within his rotted chest. He tries to cut it off before it can spread, but it’s notoriously hard to snuff out; it clings to anything it can get a hold on even as he tries to push it away.

The idea is… more tempting than he expected. It’s concerning, that should be enough to clear his head, but it’s not. His fingers cling to your shirt desperately, he searches your face, trying to find the sparest indication that you may be lying.

He finds none.

Still, Dazai knows better. He knows this won’t last. you’ll find out who he was, all of the things he did, and then you’ll leave him. You’ll see him for what he is, and you’ll leave him. This will never last.

Nothing good ever does for him.

“But I do care about you,” you insist, and you’re cruel now, because you reach out to cup his cheek and Dazai leans into your touch. He can’t help himself from it. “I care about you deeply, Dazai.”

“You can’t,” he repeats, and to his horror, his voice wavers. “You don’t know who I am, you don’t know what I’ve done, and when you do-“

“We all have skeletons in our closet, Dazai,” you interrupt him quietly. “I don't think there’s a single ability user out there that doesn’t. I don't need to know your past to know I care about you.”

That’s not true, he wants to say, but can’t force the words out. Instead, he says hoarsely, “It would change how you see me. I'm not who you think I am. I’m-”

A monster. A demon. His blood is black—has been since the day he was born, will be until the day he dies. He is not someone who should be cared for. He's someone who should be left to rot, someone the world would be better off without. He doesn’t deserve this, not when there are so many other people in the world who are unfailingly good and do deserve it.

“It won’t,” you say again, but Dazai knows it’s not true, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know how awful he is. You don’t give him the chance to protest though. “I care about who you are today. I care about who you are tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. Not who you were months ago. The past is the past, Dazai, leave it there.”

“It's not that simple,” he rasps.

“It can be,” you say softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “if you let it.”

“It can’t be that simple,” he disagrees. There’s an odd lilt to the voice—pleading, almost, begging you not to give him hope only to rip it away when the truth inevitably comes to light. “It can’t.”

“It can for us,” you tell him again, and Dazai finds himself believing you. Wanting to believe you. Wanting to believe things can just be that simple. That easy.

“Why?” Dazai breathes out, eyes searching your face for answers. “Why me? Why not someone…”

Someone better. Someone good. Someone deserving.

“Because you’re you,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you lean down to ghost your lips against his and it fogs his brain with a pleasant warmth he’s only ever felt with you. “Do I need a reason more than that?”

Dazai wants to say yes, because him being him is a reason for you to not want him. He’s despicable, he’s cruel, he lashed out at you for weeks all the while forcing himself into your space because he wanted to be near you but didn’t understand why.

“I love your smile,” you say, thumb running along his bottom lip, “and I love even more when I’m the reason for it.”

“But-“

“And I love your eyes,” you continue, fingers trailing up his face to trace under his eyes. “I think they’re the prettiest shade of brown I’ve ever seen.”

“I know that’s not true,” he rasps—he knows very well that his eyes are unnerving, too black and too empty. People have been unable to look him in the eye for long even when he was a kid. “I-“

“But most of all, it’s just you,” you say softly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. “You make me happy. I like being around you. I always look forward to the time we get to spend together—missions, at work, after work. I’ll take you in whatever way I can get, Dazai.”

You don’t let him avert his gaze this time, you force him to look at you, force him to see the truth of your words reflected in the adoration on your face. No one has ever looked at him like this before, and it makes him feel bare. Seen. He’s always felt seen with you, but never like this.

“I was… mean to you.” He still tries to argue with you, lashes fluttering shut. “I was cruel for months because-“

You laugh at him. “Mean? You were like a puppy trying to snap at my hand to scare me off.”

Dazai gapes. “A puppy?” he demands, seriously offended. “Don’t compare me to a dog. I’m more like a… A…”

“A…?” you press, a pretty smile flickering at your lips.

“A panther,” he supplies confidently.

“A kitten,” you correct.

Dazai groans dramatically, flinging his head back, but he finds himself smiling. He finds his chest full of warmth, light and bubbly, and when he looks back up at you to meet your eyes, he finds the same emotion swimming on your face. He thinks again that no one has ever looked at him like this before—not with such fondness, not with adoration, not with…

No, Dazai doesn’t dare think that word.

“I care about you too,” he admits. He’s hesitant, like he’s scared to say the words out loud.

“Even with all of the skeletons hidden in my closet?” you tease, leaning down to brush your lips against his again, and then a second time, and then a third. He basks in it, eyes sliding shut as you kiss him gently—it takes a few moments for your words to register.

“They’re not worse than mine,” he replies, the pads of his fingers running up and down your thighs absently. After a couple of seconds pass, he asks, “… What skeletons do you have?”

You tilt your head to the side and say playfully, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Dazai isn’t ready for that, so he just tosses you a smile and a wink before murmuring, “How about you show me something else instead?”

You laugh at that, tossing your head back and giggling so genuinely that your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound. His lips part to make another suggestive comment, but he finds himself breathless at the sight of you.

You’re beautiful, and Dazai can’t help but think again that he doesn’t deserve this. You.

“Deal,” you agree.

This time when you lean down to press your lips against his, Dazai’s hands are content to rest on your thighs. His fingers don’t itch to wrangle control from you, and his mind isn’t plagued with paranoia-induced thoughts.

He thinks, maybe, that he can get used to this. Used to you.

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notenoughgauze · 3 days ago

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Caught

WARNING SMUT AHEAD

He wanted to fuck her that was the god honest truth. He wanted to take her and just make her scream his name. He wanted to watch her breasts jump at every thrust. He wanted to feel her soft tummy and creamy thighs against him. He wanted every noise, every movement, everything from her. It was driving him absolutely insane.

Which is how he ended up here, screaming into a pillow as he tries to relieve frustration from his body without giving into his urges. It would be wrong, so goddamn wrong. Though, who would ever know? She wouldn’t, he’d take this secret to his grave if he had to. He was so fucking fucked it was crazy. He palms himself, putting the lightest bit of pressure against his clothed cock.

Fuck this was really bad.

But he just couldn’t stop, the pleasure was just too addicting to put a stop to it. He needed more. He imagined how pretty she’d look with her makeup smeared across her face. Her beautiful eyes filled with tears as she begged for him to stop, that she couldn't take anymore, but he wouldn’t he’d keep going and make those darling tears fall as she screamed from too much pleasure. He needed her. He needed her pussy, her wetness. He needed everything she’d give him. “F-Fuck” His breath gets heavy as he pulls his sweats down just enough, biting his lip when the pressure alleviates.

His cock was hard and ready, looking for some sweet cunt to sink into. He pulls down his boxers and his cock springs to attention, finally able to weep without cloth getting dampened. He runs his palm over the tip, moaning a pathetic moan at the stimulation. How would she do it? Would she suck on the tip a bit then go down further? Or maybe she’d be so desperate she’d take it all fast? He pictured her, looking up at him, like a goddess that dirtied herself with a mere mortal.

He gathered his spit into his hand and gripped himself tight, tight like he’d imagine her cunt to be. “____” he groaned. Pleading somehow she found out about this dirty moment between him and his hand. He pleads in his head for more, to see her above him bouncing on his cock and whimpering, maybe she’d cry that he’s just too big and she needs his help. He’d gladly do anything for her.

Just one chance, that's all he needs. One chance to have it ingrained into his memory forever. No one would ever compare, he doesn’t need the real thing to know that. He’d never take another for the rest of his life if it meant one night with his pretty vixen. He moans more and cries as quietly as he can, for fear of others hearing his pathetic display. Finally he’s close.

“Oh shit-” he hears her voice, it sounds surprised and shocked. Just the sound of it makes him spill all over his tummy. He breathed in and out for a second before opening his eyes and there he saw the object of all his desires standing in front of him with rosy cheeks and mouth agape.

“Fuck.”

#bsd #slasher x reader #obey me x reader #bungo stray dogs #mammon x reader #smut #x reader #plus size reader #chubby reader #slasher #bsd x reader #dazai osamu x reader #akutagawa ryuunosuke

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notenoughgauze · 3 days ago

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Tension rewrite

Mammon. Avatar of greed. The hottest demon that exists, is standing only 8 feet away, holding a large painting up to his older brother who’s hovering with flowing wings. There he is in all his glory, arms flexing and bulging in his t-shirt. God, she was no better than a man. There he was, and here she was, staring at every muscle that moves, and oh man, his face was the cherry on top, lips moving as he speaks, skin tan and clear as always, and his eyes, his big blue eyes that always seem to hold a warmth for the ones he loves, what she wouldn’t do for it to be pointed in her direction. Anything would be nicer than the annoyed glances he gives her when she tries to talk to him.

“You got it?” he asks Lucifer who only nods and lifts the painting up to balance it on the nail. Having her daydreams end with a record scratch , she returns to the book she had completely disregarded. Why does he find her so irritating? Sure he was forced to watch over her, but she's fun! She can be funny if she tries! Plus she always thought she was at least a little cute, not a beauty queen but cute at the least.

“Hey! What are you looking at?” the man himself asks her with a once again annoyed tone. “N-nothing!” she grins nervously, thinking of some sort of lie. “ I was just thinking about the story i was reading, just happened to look in that direction, that's all.” Fuck, did she say that too fast? Was that convincing? He rolls his eyes “ Stupid human” he huffs and takes the hammer and nails from Lucifer to return them to their home. Lucifer gives him a stern stare, like he was attempting to tell him to behave. Of course that only received another huff and they both walked away. As soon as they’re out of sight, ___ runs to her room.

Mammon on the other hand, couldn’t stand the new addition to the household. She was weird, too weird for his own liking. He heard her run away, he heard her scampers and huffs of breath. He bets she got winded after a few moments, like humans do. Weak. Always so weak. He puts the tools back where they belong and heads to his own room, thinking of her.

He hated her, he was sure of it. She was an idiot. A human, it was disgusting how his brothers all obviously fell for her meek demeanor. They all fawn over her much more than he’d like; Acting as though she’s worth a million grimm or maybe even more with how they swoon at every little, irritating thing she does. He could fill a book full of reasons why he hated her and why he should’ve never been appointed her guardian. Lucifer made a mistake. He just knew it.

He couldn’t wait for the year to be over.

#obey me x reader #mammon x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date

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notenoughgauze · 3 days ago

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Pairing: Dazai x reader

Contents: NSFW, penetration (reader receiving), trying out a new position but Dazai gets too focused on staring and teasing than actual fucking (until successful persuasion that is), dazai levels of menace, Approx 1.2k words

“What? Pshhh, it’s a perfectly rounded ass I’ll have you know–”

You groaned, hiding your face deeper into the mattress. “Don’t just comment on it. It’s bad as it is. Get on with it.” Your muffled voice only drew another chuckle from Dazai.

“Gimme a second, I’m still engraving this in my mind,” Dazai said. “Future references and all.”

You hated Dazai. So much. Him and his annoying face and stupid voice and long slender fingers as they kept you in place, ass ceremoniously up as you stood on elbows and knees before him.

Worst idea possible.

You should have kept to the vanilla sex. You’ve no idea what possessed you to suggest… a change of angles, let’s say. The flash of excitement in Dazai’s eyes only spurred you on, unfortunately–that innocent eagerness for pleasing one’s partner taking hold of your better judgment.

But Dazai was just looking at you now, one hand lazily stroking at his cock as he trailed feathered touches down your back. Your patience was waning and your steadily kept composure along with it.

You must be definitely quite the sight, one that kept popping in your mind with how utterly embarrassing it felt to you. Your confidence wound up shriveling away with every second, face red but not from the fun type of activity.

“What happened to partner’s pleasure coming first?” you asked, sneaking a judging glance at Dazai's grinning face.

“Ooh, I am known to be very generous, yes,” Dazai said, and you shuddered as his hand trailed down to your pussy lips, teasing at your entrance curiously. As if he weren’t inside you less than five minutes ago. You were still very wet and very welcoming; the idiot only needed to take the hint.

“Well?”

“Well what?” He pressed a finger inside you, making you arch into the touch. He was quick to find your sweet spot, twisting his finger with just the right pressure to have you breathing hard again. “See? The picture of ample virtue, solely and entirely for the loveliest of beauties.” And he leaned down, chest pressing to your back as he kissed the spot between your shoulders.

“You talk too much,” you panted, pushing your hips back as you sought more of Dazai’s touch.

“Only truths. The heart sings when it’s in love, you know that?” he whispered against your ear, nose brushing playfully against it. “Seeing your ass up like that really set the deal for me. A man in love indeed.”

“Weirdo,” you said, capturing his lips before he went on with his smart remarks again. You could feel his cock against your under-thigh, hard and still leaking. Dazai was expressing a remarkable level of self-restraint. Too bad you had no such plans for yourself. “Dazai, dear?”

He hummed against you, biting playfully at your lower lip.

“If you don’t stop with your teasing now and get your cock inside me…” You cocked your head away, letting him seek for your closeness. “I’ll just leave.”

A dramatic gasp. “You wouldn’t.” He dragged his fingers up to your clit, smearing your wetness as he began stroking you. “That would be too cruel.”

Your belly fluttered, the familiar pressure building slowly up again. You lay back down, cheek resting on the mattress as you focused on the sensation. “The cruellest.” Your eyes fluttered.

Dazai kissed your shoulder before he rested his chin on the same spot. Even with your eyes closed you could tell he was watching you. You could even picture perfectly his brown eyes, the way he took you all in. It used to throw you off how much Dazai enjoyed eye contact during sex. Face to face as he held you close to him, soaking every detail, every reaction he managed to bring out of you. It used to trigger a self-consciousness that made you uncomfortable at times, but you knew where his habit spurred from.

As hard as it was to believe this, Dazai was attracted to whatever he saw. Even when you thought you weren’t at your best, he was still there. Looking.

That mind of his so loved being perverse too, to your immense embarrassment at times. But as long as you felt comfortable–and preferably in the territory of your own home, thank you–you didn’t mind treating him to a pretty view here and there. Besides, embarrassment really did die away once his hand was on your clit making your brain foggy with pleasure.

Sure. Good idea, yes.

You fluttered your eyes open, hooded gaze locking immediately with brown irises. You arched a brow.

Predictable.

A quiet, barely there sigh shuddered past your lips; enough to slightly pull at Dazai’s attention. Being loud in bed was not one of your fortes, and that’s why it was so… valuable. In times of need, that is.

You built up your sound carefully, shuddering through your every breath as your moans began spilling from your lips with every passing moment. You didn’t know if it was the placebo effect at play here, but you were pushing yourself even closer to your orgasm, the release of inhibitions spurring you forward unexpectedly.

You found yourself pulling at Dazai roughly, seeking him as your tongue pried his lips open. He kissed you just as fervently, grinning like a fool as his fingers moved faster against your clit. You could barely keep it in.

“Dazai,” you said, voice downright commanding in your desperation.

Good thing Dazai was a quick read, holding you in place as he finally slipped his cock inside you a second later, groaning against your lips.

It was a blur after that, Dazai’s thrusts sloppy and reaching deep as he fucked you into the mattress. He rose up at some point, using his weight to angle himself just right, the audible sound of skin slapping against skin too arousing for your mind to focus on anything else.

Dazai didn’t stop even as you clutched at the sheets between waves of pleasure, your orgasm passing through your body mercilessly. You were blinking the moisture from your eyes when Dazai pulled you up suddenly. Your body felt limp as he settled you against him, still thrusting inside you as a hand cupped at your breasts. Your thighs trembled from the position, pussy clenching involuntarily around Dazai as you still came down from your high.

“Ohh fuck–” Dazai laughed, the sound verberating through his ribcage. “Holy fuck of a–”

He stiffened, a low, guttural moan leaving his lips as you felt him spilling inside you. Dazai’s head dropped on your shoulder, breathing hard.

You patted him on the forehead, hand falling back down from the extreme effort. “Please don’t lean too much on me now, being crushed is not fun.”

“I’ll talk to gravity about it,” he mumbled against your shoulder, weight falling dangerously forward.

Your eyes widened. “Dazai!”

“Ha.” He blew a raspberry on your neck, laughing at your exasperated face. “Gotcha.”

Ass. Absolute ass. But then he nuzzled against you, deep brown eyes looking up at you with so much adoration your annoyance all but dissipated. A smile crept on your lips, accompanied by a feeling of warmth within your chest.

Oh well. He was your ass, at least.

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notenoughgauze · 20 days ago

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Am I Living an Illusion? | Suguru/Kenjaku x Chubby! Reader

Summary; You’re not so sure your boyfriend is who he says he is anymore.

Warnings; smut (cunnilingus, P in V) imposter! au? cockwarming (mentioned) (loosely based on the song “runaway runaway” by Mars Argo)

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

You tried to ignore it at first. The way he didn’t have that slight limp in his walk. How he started adding cream to his coffee instead of just black. The way he suddenly started treating you.

Suguru had always been a frigid lover. He never allowed you to get too close. In fact, you often wondered if you were even in a relationship in the first place. He never held your hand, hardly cuddled with you, and talking to him was like pulling teeth. The only shred of adoration he showed you was when his hands grabbed at the fat of your thighs to fuck into you.

That’s why you know whatever is in front of you, is not your Suguru.

Because your Suguru would never hold you the way this one does, like you’re his reason for breathing, like you’re a goddess among men and he’s trying to keep you for himself. He would never talk to you like this one does, voice so soft and gentle, almost like a whisper. He would never look at you like this one, like you hung the Sun, Moon and all the stars.

And he especially wouldn't plan an elaborate dinner for Valentine's Day.

— —

“I just want to spoil you, sweetheart. I feel we’ve grown apart these last few weeks.” He murmurs in your ear. You’d been trying to come to terms with your feelings for whatever is inhabiting your boyfriend, thus causing a bit of separation.

Anytime you both were in the same room, you made an excuse to leave. It was a bit immature, sure, but you didn’t know how to cope with what you were feeling. Something clearly wasn’t right with your boyfriend, but he was also beginning to act exactly how you’ve been wanting. You weren’t sure what to do, however, after mentioning in passing how much you wanted to participate in the holiday, you didn’t really have much of an excuse to get out of this.

“I- I don’t know, Sugu. It’s been a while.” You deflect. “Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to do something on this day? I know I’ve been dismissive before, but I want to make up for that now.” He turns you to face him, thumb caressing the softness of your cheek. It’s moments like this that remind you he’s not who he used to be, that he’s something entirely different.

“Suguru” on the other hand was struggling to hold himself back from just wiping everything off the table taking you right there.

How? How did his host go this long without fucking you?

If it was up to him, you’d never leave his cock, reduced to nothing but a cock-drunk cumdump that warms his dick.

Not to say that was a bad thing. He just wants to ravish you, run his tongue along your curves and grip your supple flesh. Sink his teeth into your pouty lips and just take everything you have to offer.

You feel your cheeks heat up under his stare, the intensity in which he’s looking at you causing wetness to pool in your panties. “Well, yes. But I just think-” He shushes your thoughts by pressing a brief peck to your lips. “Ah, ah, ah,” He tuts, moving to pick up a chocolate covered strawberry and putting the delicacy to your lips. “No thinking today, just… feeling.” He says and if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your clit pulses at his words, so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Without breaking eye contact, you lean down slightly and take a bite of delicious fruit in his hand. “Suguru” feels his cock twitch at the sight of the red juice dripping down your chin. He can’t help himself when he reaches out to wipe the juice, sucking the same finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of you.

And you can’t help yourself when you finally reach out and press a searing kiss to his lips, the taste of the strawberry and each other dancing on each of your tongues.

He pulls you into his lap without breaking the kiss, hands immediately finding purchase on your soft waist. He groans at the feel of you grinding down on his clothed cock, desperate for some sort of friction.

He takes pity on you and lifts you up with ease, the action causing you to squeal in surprise, arms wrapping around his neck to anchor yourself. “Do you really think I’d let you get hurt, sweet thing?” He asks earnestly, an almost hurt expression on his face. But it’s quickly wiped away as his hands run up and down your body. “With me around, you’ll never be hurt again.” It was said with such finality that you had no choice but to believe him.

He carries you to your shared bedroom, once cold now full of love. He carefully lays you on your silk sheets, taking his time to undress you, almost like a present for himself.

“Suguru” can hardly contain his appreciation for the sight before him. You were quite literally everything he was looking for in a partner, and he couldn’t believe his luck when he picked a host that had exactly what he needed.

With that thought in mind, he rids himself of his clothes, eager to make a mess of you. “You’re so pretty, baby. You look so good laid out for me like this.” He sighs, running his hands up and down your thighs. You try to squeeze them tight to prevent him from catching sight of your wetness but it’s fruitless; he can practically taste you on his tongue.

He manages to pry your legs apart, the sight of your sticky folds enough to make a grown man weep. He doesn’t hold himself back anymore, immediately diving into your soaked cunt.

You gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue laving over the bundle of nerves as you grind into his face. “That’s it, baby. Use me. Use me to get off, you deserve it.” And you know what? You fucking do.

So you do as he says, pressing his face further into your pussy as you get off on his mouth. He’s moaning into you, hands grabbing at whatever he can as you whine and gasp at the overwhelming feeling.

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming, cunt spasming around his tongue as he uses it to fuck you through your orgasm, your body twitching at the intensity of it.

He presses one final kiss to your clit before pulling away slightly, hands rubbing comforting circles into your skin. He leans up to your face, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before pulling away to look at the softness in your eyes.

“Ready for more?” He asks, pressing sweet pecks to your chubby cheeks. You’re coherent enough to nod in the affirmative, and that’s all “Suguru” needs to get to work, running his hard dick through your soaked folds to lube himself up.

The glide into your cunt is easy, the head of his cock nearly nudging your cervix with every thrust.

He’s beating your poor pussy up, dick slamming into your g-spot and he’s not faring any better. Your moans and the squelch of your pussy is music to his ears, and the way your cunt clenches every time he makes a particularly deep thrust has a shiver running down his spine.

As he nears his orgasm, he realizes he has to feel you cum on his cock. It’s a must.

He reaches up and pinches each of your nipples, licking into your mouth when you open it to moan for him. “Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock.” He demands, slamming into you in quick succession. All it takes is one, two, three more thrusts and you're spilling all over his cock, drenching him in your release. It’s not long before he’s right behind you, holding you flush against him as he spills his seed deep in your womb.

You’re panting against each other, holding each other as you catch your breaths. It’s a few minutes before “Suguru” pulls away and leaves the room and you’re worried things will go back to the way they were before. But then he comes back with a wet cloth, a bowl of the chocolate strawberries and a bottle of water. He hands you the fruit and water, before running the wet towel through your soaked folds, careful of your sensitivity.

Once he’s finished he tosses the towel onto his nightstand to be dealt with later, then pulling you flush against him as he feeds you more of the strawberries. You sigh in content as you let yourself be cared for.

Once you’ve finished the fruit and drank a good portion of the water, “Suguru” hugs you close to him once again, your back against his front, as he rubs his hand over your plump tummy. You think about this. About the intimacy he provides, the safety you feel with him.

“I know you’re not what you once were Suguru,” You start, and you feel him stiffen behind you. You place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. “But I don’t care.”

He breathes out.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @cherries-c0la @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @c0pkiller

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notenoughgauze · 20 days ago

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a/n: since when was fat a bad word? dni ugly fatphobes genuinely kiss my fat black ass.

content warning: more freaky froggie stuff becus cupid does it best!!

men whom love fat women !!

yes fat. with bellies that fold under their clothes and poke through their high waisted jeans. chunky arms that jiggle when they move, and that oh so lovely layer of fat under their chins, giving their round faces an almost childish glem. don't get them started on stretch marks— the tiger strips that cover their tummies, shoulders, and jiggly thighs only add to the mouthwatering appeal. fat women that are just so biteable, edible, and loveable. big strong men who laugh find it absolutely laughable at the thought of not being able to handle a woman with extra meat on their bones. was that a challenge? they sure see it as one.

big strong nasty men who laugh deep and proud as they squeal and gasp in surprise when they're lifted off their feet and chucked around like they didn't weigh over 225. proud nasty brutes who prove they can handle it by fucking their chunky lady standing up. holding every squish of fat up as they ram their even bigger cocks into their messy little pussies. dropping dumb dick that has them gasping and begging for air.

brutes who don't stop until they have their woman fucked out and panting. proud like they've just won the lottery. "still think i can't handle you?."

fuck. he sure can..

— REINER! REINER! REINER! SOAP! SOAP! SOAP!

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notenoughgauze · 21 days ago

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Hello... Is it possible to post visuals for dazai and akutagawa wish a plus sized reader? 👉🏻👈🏻

NSFW VISUALS . . . ft. Osamu Dazai and Ryuunosuke Akutagawa [separate], plus-sized reader ⊹

DAZAI . . .

late nights when he can’t sleep // he loves watching your tits and tummy bounce while he fucks you // don’t be shy, put on a lil show for him // again, sharing you with a colleague of your choice // lift your leg just a lil higher for him, okay? // real eater

AKUTAGAWA . . .

ride him reverse cowgirl if you love him // holding you open for him // “keep your eyes open, baby” // he had a bad day at work, give him a titjob, please // convince him that sharing is caring // til you squirt

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notenoughgauze · 21 days ago

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sometimes i think about… akutagawa canon body type

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notenoughgauze · 21 days ago

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I've started a webcomic, OUR FIERCE DIFFERENCES. In a deep, wide desert on the brink of war, two souls form an unlikely friendship as they work together to save others and themselves from coming disaster. It features a lot of biting, but the good kind of biting

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Read it below

Webtoon

Tapas

Also read the uncensored version on my Patreon!

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notenoughgauze · 24 days ago

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no bc thinking about akutagawa, the port mafia dog that everyone thinks is so scary (he is) but who is actually the biggest gentleman. who hates plants bc they’re such a hassle to take care of, but who buys you flowers and puts sugar in the water vase to keep them alive ! 🫧🫧

who also just loves biting you. who is the biggest dick in bed, choking you and watching you cum with slits for eyes. who’ll kiss your throat right after he bruises it.

i forget if this is canon or not, but i saw somewhere that he doesn’t know what the frilly thing around his neck is called 😭 (i think its a cravat?)

Oh my FUCK!! Just like that I’m being sucked in and writing about him… Also I think that’s correct, it’s a cravat. Levi from AOT wore one too.🤤

master list link

You’re right…. Ryuu is such a fucking guard dog — a Doberman, if you will. He’s tightlipped and terrifying when he tails you around town, or anywhere really.

You want a few inches of space while you’re in the bar? At the store? At a birthday party? Too fucking bad. He sneers at everyone who gets too close, challenging each person who dares chat you up in his presence without a single word. You smack him in the chest when he pushes the line, teasing him with a “down Ryuunosuke, be a good boy.” He huffs, unhappy, but backs off for the time being. Until something sets him off again.

Although you have to use an unfair amount of willpower not to show it, Ryuu’s aware, and smug, about the fact that his protective and obsessive behavior tugs on the part of your brain that tells you to shove him into the sheets when you get home.

This isn’t to go without saying that Ryuu’s such a sweetie when it comes to you. Like tooth rotting sort of sweet. It’s not so much displayed through words, but rather it’s spelled out in his actions. As stated above, the man does not have a green thumb. First off, plants require far too much attention. Attention that he’d rather spend on you. Second, even if he has tried to grow plants before, though he swears he hasn’t, they just seem to mock him. They die and if he’s honest, he can’t be bothered with whether they live or not.

But, for you, Ryuu did just enough research on how to keep flowers off of life support. When Ryuu brought you flowers for the first time and he noticed how your eyes brightened, how you buried your nose into soft petals and inhaled a lungful, only to hum in delight and aim the single most affectionate look he’s ever gotten at him, well, he needed the flowers to live for as long as you willed them to.

Ryuunosuke loves to suck bruises along your throat, your collarbone, any unmarked part of your body he can get his hands on. It absolutely ties into his possessiveness. You tell him he’s a “territorial ass,” but you moan his name and tilt your head to the side, spreading your thighs open as you insult him. You ask him for more kisses without really asking him.

He rolls his eyes but one side of his mouth twists into a smile, fitting himself snug between your legs. He always comes back with “Yeah? Well you’re a fucking brat,” pressing the harsh words into your collarbone. “You think I won’t mark what’s mine? That I’d let anyone not know who owns you?”

It’s got to be common knowledge that Ryuu is a jerk in bed. That he likes to tease, likes to edge you, even ruin your orgasm once in a while because his dick gets hard when you cry. A thrill races down his spine when you let him choke you, stomach drawing in tight. The pads of his fingers press deep into the sides of your throat, making your head throb and your cheeks flush hot to the touch when all your blood rushes to them. He almost bites the tip of his tongue off when your pussy squeezes the life out of his cock.

On the other side, something probably scratches the out of reach itch in Ryuunosuke’s brain when you take the reins from him. He’s always got too much on his plate, and being able to give up control satisfies his secret desire to be taken care of. His expression is never more open, never more loving, more tender than when you’re riding him. It’s slow and steady, you appreciate every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your pussy.

You brace your hands on either side of his head and Ryuu stares up at you, his heavy lidded gaze mirroring yours as he pants, these small puffs of air that are just loud enough to make out. You repeat the smooth, steady rise and fall of your hips, lips parting and a breathy “Ryuunosuke,” drips off your tongue. You play it up a bit, knowing how worked up Ryuu gets when you moan his full name.

It works this time as it has all the others.

His breath stutters in his chest, nails digging in and pinching your ass. “Ryuunosuke, please baby, make me cum. Your cock is so good, help me.” Your pussy squeezes tight around him.

Ryuu’s eyes begin to roll, lids fluttering before he lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re playing with me, angel.” He’s too smart, he realized what you were doing from the get go. He secures his arms around your waist and rolls until your back hits the mattress. “Such a helpless little thing for me, aren’t you princess?” He pushes his hips forward and you swear the tip of his cock presses against your cervix.

Ryuunosuke trails his fingers up the underside of your forearms, tickling you, and laces your fingers together, pinning your hands by your head. He dips down to whisper in your ear.

“You don’t have to worry, my angel. I’ll ruin you. You’ll never think of another man or want someone else’s cock ever again.”

You belong to Ryuunosuke, but you knew that already, didn’t you?

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notenoughgauze · 24 days ago

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notenoughgauze · 7 months ago

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I'M LIQUID SMOOTH, COME TOUCH ME TOO ♡

FEATURING: D.OSAMU + FEM!READER

♡ his love doesn't come requited

CW: angst, unrequited love, one-sided pining, dazai is down AWFUL, erm a lil bit of red flags but this is dazai lets be fr

A/N: a rewrite of one of my first popular fics but better :33 originally for my blogs bday but im impatient af lmao

"♪ Or at least take my picture; 崩れてゆく前に ! ♪"

Dazai felt like he was drowning.

Plunged into a river like one of his suicide attempts, yet instead of his will to welcome death that weighs him down, something else tethers him to life. To climb out and thrash amoungst the waves and reach the shore just to live a few more miserable moments just because for a few moments, the sun had broken through the gray sky to shine its welcoming warmth.

You, he figured out soon after, was the sun that'd been hiding away for so long.

You were the ocean that lulled him other, fogging up his brain with nothing but your suffocating presence and the ache of an adrenaline-fueled rush to live, dragging him beneath the surface.

yet you couldn't figure out, it seemed, that dazai would much rather prefer to join the bones collecting at the bottom of your ocean's floor if it meant he'd be with you, linked back to you, when they find his body, so utterly tarnished and full of you.

dazai loved you, and yet you didn't reciprocate any of his adoration the way he wished you to.

he thought himself pathetic for it, frankly. pathetic for the way he'd chicken out of any confession, how his throat would seize in on itself and how his heart would falter in a measly attempt to protect himself.

from what? rejection? the disgust on your face when he spills out his hearts ugly contents for you to see?

he wouldn't blame you, but the thought of it made dazai sick.

yet he found himself outside your door, kicking pebbles underneath his show in the hazy light of your door light illuminating the night. in his hand, clenched around his fingers was a wilted bouquet of flowers. you mentioned these to be your favorite, and as soon as dazai got off work he had scoured the whole city in search of them in flower shops and fields.

he could just imagine your confused face, twisted in a hesitant, careful smile as you accept the flowers while you kindly dug his heart into the ground with your rejection.

maybe it wasn't a good idea to be here, maybe he should've left- yet dazai lifted his hand and knocked against the worn wood of your door as his heartbeat pumped through his ears, rushing blood drowning out any reasonable thought (or maybe that was just his utter infatuation with you, turning him into a fool that'll surely get swept away by fate)

shuffling was heard behind the door. the skin on his neck fluttered with the quickening of his pulse, already regretting it all.

the flowers. he looked at the flowers in hand, thought for one anxiety-ridden moment and threw them over the railing and into the bushes below. maybe you'd find them there in the morning on your way to the agency, wilted and weary from his wrenching grip on them.

finally, after a few moments where dazai was left in the sheer terror that was a man in love's thoughts, the door open to reveal you on the other side.

you spoke his name and yet dazai couldn't care less. what good was his name spoken in honeyed tones to the sight of you right now? it's not like you were wearing an extravagant ballgown, simply a shirt and some worn pants that told you were likely about to go to sleep before he impulsively barged onto your doorstep, and yet the sight makes him want to weep, to coax you into his hold and melt into your warmth and safety, like this was a familiar routine of his.

How he'd love to return home to you every day; the way your voice enunciates the syllables and vowels of his last name makes him wonder how his given name would sound, dripping off your lips in breathy sighs as he kissed you senseless-

"dazai, what is it? don't tell em you came here drunk." you crossed your arms, eyebrows raised and eyes concerned. his gaze shifted back to you and he managed to turn his lips up in a smile, though weak.

"ah bella', contrary to those scandalous lies kunikida's been feeding you I am in fact not a raging drunkard that terrorizes beauties like yourself." you nodded slowly, shoulders relaxing slightly. dazai noticed that.

"ah, well what do you need?" you tilted your head to the side and god, the warm orange light casted a glow on you that could only be described as heavenly; a place he never needed to see because why should he when it's right in front of him, yet he can't hvae?

fitting, for a sinner like him.

"I saw that! so you do believe kunikida's allegations against my good name!!" dazai whined, pouting as he getured towards your relaxed shoulders. though he jested, a warmth poured through him, the normalcy of his conversation with you relaxing him. dazai could imagine this conversation in a different setting, maybe in your kitchen as the two of you weaved around each other in something as domestic as cooking a meal, a proper meal that maybe he'd eat, not the canned crab and sake he'd grown accustomed to.

you giggled, leaning against the doorframe. "I don't, I'm only relieved 'cause your not like, about-to-pass-out-on-my-doorstep drunk." you gestured him inside, moving out the way for him as he shuffled inside. "what do you need?'

dazai looked around, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets. "remember when I put your keys in my pocket near the end of the day to hold onto them for you?" he waited for you to nod before continuing. "well, I think I might've given you my keys on accident as well." he chuckled. you nodded slowly, lips curved into an ''o'' shape.

"ah, wait here- my keys are in my room." you walked off into your room. shuffling and little mumbles came from your room as dazai stood there, panicking.

he needed out, he shouldn't have come, he shouldn't-

you walked back in, frowning as you flipped through your keys. "don't see 'em...by the way, why did you come in the middle of the night? what were you doing earlier?" you glanced up at him, placing your keys on a coffee table.

"i was getting drunk, as you accused me of.'' he teased, waving his hand dismissively. "ah, it's alright, I'll just lockpick my way into my dorm." you smiled and hummed, amused.

"that might look a little suspicious to a random passerby, don't you think? you wanna stay the night?" dazai froze.

no, no, no, no.

he couldn't. how could he? how could he spend the night in your house in a separate room, so close yet so far from you that dazai thinks the ache in his heart will swallow him whole, the lump in his throat will suffocate him and when doctors perform an autopsy they'll find your favorite flowers, the ones he threw over the railing, digging their thorns into his throat.

dazai wasn't a fool, he knew you didn't feel the same way. but how could he feel nothing but friendly, platonic love to you? when you're you, everything he's ever want and more, a precious jewel he doesn't ever deserve sullying with his bloodstained fingerprints.

dazai coughed, pulling himself from his spiral. "that sounds lovely, darling, but I think I'll place my bets on getting into my house." he flashed a grin at you, praying you couldn't see the way he wished to dip into a sob at the mere thought of not being able to have you.

you shrugged, smiling at him. at him. "mh, okay suit yourself." you pointed towards the door, chuckling. "now out!" dazai whined when you poked him in the shoulder, huffing indignantly.

"owww, ok!! no need to abuse me bella', you're so cruel..." dazai puffed out his cheeks as he walked out, throwing a careless grin as he shut the door.

he stood outside your dorm until the lock clicked on the other side. then he walked away silently, the chasm in his heart greater than before.

the breeze picked up into a gentle blow of the wind, ruffling his hair as he walked in silence. dazai could already imagine how it'd be tomorrow when he walked into the agency, how you'd look up at him and grin as you teased if he found a place to sleep last night and dazai would throw back another jest, whining about how he had to sleep in the cold when he really didn't but he only said it just to see you laugh. though he'd never admit the last part aloud.

there was a soft crunch under his foot. dazai stopped and looked down, removing his foot to see it-

your favorite flower, growing from the fissures in the concrete sidewalk, it's petals wilted and torn from his foot steps.

he stared at it. then, dazai walked away.

why couldn't you realise, that dazai would do anything if it mean you'd glance at him for a second with the love he never deserved, yet craved from you?

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!!

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notenoughgauze · 8 months ago

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chuuya nakahara. the man you are. beautiful stunning powerful talented perfection in every media. chuuya day is truly the best day of the year. let's all celebrate chuuya for existing. thank you asagiri, harukawa, and hoshikawa for the beautiful creation that is chuuya nakahara.

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notenoughgauze · 8 months ago

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Monster OC HC!! - ☆Boris Howlles☆

Relationship HC with Boris Howlles...

Boris Howlles who...When he met you, it was on a full moon, you walked home after a night with your friends when he came rushing towards you with his glowing eyes. And he probably would've killed you. He squeezed you so tight, dug his nails into your arms so hard he left scratches. But he whimpered and threw himself off of you before grabbing at his head, a few moments later he was looking at you, his angry shaped eyes looked soft and guilty.

Boris Howlles Who... when you came looking a few days later, he shunned away from you. He was a monster, Cursed from the day he was born to be a child of the night. To animal like and monstrous to be human, to Human like to be an animal. He expected you to bring a trail of angry humans with touches and pitchforks. But was interested in you, when all you asked was to 'boop' his nose.

Boris Howlles who... dispite his mean looking face and seemingly hard outter shell, comes to enjoy your company, you're his first real friend! And so he tells you everything! About how Shifters and werewolves are different! The reason vampires and wolves of any kind don't get along, how the moon cycles affect how intense his more animalistic features and tendencies are; he tells you how his favorite places to be scratched if his chest and tummy!

Boris Howlles who... in time gets more and more attached, one day following you home in the dead of night, not telling you he was there. Until you woke up the next day to see him standing hunched over into your fridge looking around for something to eat, he was so hungry :( he sat ON your table while you made something to eat, tossing him a steak you had in your freezer. He confesses his attachment to you. He wants to be a pack with you, he'd been alone for so long that now he just can't let you go.

Boris Howlles who... is always trying to convince you to skip work and stay home with him :) who needs stupid money when it should be free to live, so just don't go out and be with him! You have to explain that's not how it works and pry him off your leg to leave the house every single time. And when one day you come smelling like... someone else, he gets... jealous... more than he was comfortable with. He gets angry and pouty with you. He doesn't utter a word to you for the next hour, mad at you for leaving and mad you had the nerve to spend time with someone else! But then that anger shifts...

Boris Howlles who... wishes he was born a Shifter instead. He's angry at fate. He didn't have a human form, he could never walk down the street with you, never hold your hand without worrying about scratching you or accidentally pulling to hard and taking your arm off, he would never be able to... properly kiss you. Not with his stupid snout and sharp fangs. He realizes in that moment that he loves you, but you couldn't be with him. It wouldn't be fair... he only opens up to these confessions and insecurities after you sat next to his and scratched his chest and tummy for thirty minutes.

Boris Howlles who... is thrilled to hear you feel the same way! You'd tried to deny your feelinging thinking a human and a 'monster' like him wouldn't be okay, or appropriate. But he didn't care, and neither should you! He loves you! And he'll be loyal and trustworthy till the very bitter end. However that doesn't stop the jealousy and insecurities of his, one day you came home smelling like that Coworker of yours the one that while you can't tell, he can smell the last they left behind on you. And he wasn't very happy.

Boris Howlles who... that night fully bonded himself to you, and you to him. He tried to be soft... tried to start slow... he was much bigger than you, and he really didn't want to hurt you. But the more he thought of you being his forever and creating a soul bond with him made his so excited... and the idea of that coworker being lustful about you made his so angry :( he was relentless and his pace was unforgiving. His brain just repeated the words "Mine, Mine, Mine, Mate, Mate, Mate," over and over and over again. He didn't stop until you passed out. Unable to take the overstimulatuon anymore.

Boris Howlles who... the morning after made you breakfast... or tried to atleast, he's too big for your little cozy apartment and isn't used to how your human technology works. It's a little burned and bland but you appreciated it nonetheless, and he happily cuddles you the rest of the day off from work. Only stopping to take a shower when you questioned him on the red liquid splatters on his fur, he said it was from a while ago but that wasn't true. It was from last night after he made sure you were passed out! You won't be seeing your coworker the next day at work tomorrow because he just couldn't let them get too close to you, his sweet little doe. But, you didn't need to know that. :)

Art work of Boris is on my 2nd account @all-about-bride

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