#Chuuya drabble

[causenessus]

comforting you. | bungou stray dogs

inc. chuuya, dazai, ranpo, odasaku

written is second pov (no gendered pronouns used)

"you deserve this." by men i trust

word count: 4.6k words

notes/warnings: separate scenarios for each bsd man and how they comfort you when you’re feeling down, giving you both love and realistic advice. i feel like i bounced between writing generalized headcanons and hyperspecific scenarios, so i’m sorry but i hope you enjoy this <3 each of you is deserving of so much love and patience <3 you deserve to be here <3 each pairing is in an established relationship. also (relevant for odasku’s scenario), the orphans are still alive. my writing my universe. i'm actually beastzai in another au where everyone lives and is happy and everything is okay. use of pet names "sweetheart" (chuuya scenario) "angel" (dazai scenario) and "love" (oda). general hurt/comfort drabbles :) lmk if I should add anything! i would NOT consider this proofread because I read it half-asleep at midnight trying to edit it so forgive me for any mistakes 🙏

special shoutouts to @dorotheasdiary + @aouzi for hyping me up/listening to my rambles abt this work!! sorry for the tag </3

chuuya.

sometimes the urge to give up became too strong. 

was it too much to ask time to stop for just one day? it seemed all your pleas to the sky were falling on deaf ears.

still, as all things do, you eventually lost the motivation to keep pushing forward on your own.

like a runner who trips upon a small pebble and can’t get back into their pace, slowly, slowly falling behind the others.

the one difference was that you had come to a complete stop. you'd never allowed yourself a break until you were completely burnt out; unable to move even a muscle.

you haven’t even made it out of bed the whole day. 

the room was starting to feel sick and stuffy with how long you’d laid in those sheets that no longer seemed to provide any comfort. rather, you felt like you were simply dirtying the sheets by continuing to lie there, purposeless, useless.

you barely had it in you to call out of work before drifting back into a mundane sleep that you continued to wake up and fall back into for the better half of the day. you hadn’t looked at your phone after sending a quick text to your manager, unprepared for whatever kind of passive-aggressive response they'd messaged back with because of your late notice. the unknown was too much right now, you couldn't focus on anyone you couldn't read but yourself. you didn’t want to be around friends, family, or people out on the street, where your mind would run rapid laps around itself, trying to figure out what everyone thought of you.

at work, it was the same; sizing yourself up to your coworkers, figuring out how well-liked you were— how replaceable you would be if one day you suddenly up and dropped, or, more likely in your mind, you annoyed everyone enough that they let you go. 

never really knowing what others thought terrified you. obviously it wasn't the norm despite living in a world filled with those gifted with abilities to be able to read another's mind but that didn’t mean your mind could simply let the anxieties go. your head always seemed to be buzzing, preoccupied with concerns about something.

which is why you had tried to block everything out, the moment you woke up this morning and every rustle of your legs tumbled in the sheets was too loud for your ears; a playlist of music on shuffle played softly from your phone nearby, giving your brain something mindless to focus on while you had your head pressed between pillows to deafen out the rest of the world.

you didn’t feel any better or any energized despite how much you had slept today, but at the very least, sleep often took you away from constantly having to listen to whatever your mind wanted to rave and overthink next.

'what time is it? have i even gotten up once today? i should at least walk around. clean up. i'll never be motivated to get out of bed like this—' there your head went, taking one simple question and turning it into spindles of chains to wrap around your throat.

but when you feel the mattress sink beside you, suddenly everything goes quiet. the sheets become just sheets again–not something you’re sinking into or dirtying. someone has opened the curtains, revealing an orange sunset outside, and something nice is playing from the speaker of your phone, you realize.

he is the only one who doesn’t make your head spin. he is your grounding anchor, the gravitational force keeping your feet planted on this earth, opening your eyes to the beauty of the world you couldn’t otherwise see due your own anxieties.

“you been here all day?” he must have snuck in without you even hearing him (which isn’t hard to believe, considering the cushions you’d just been pressing to both of your ears), even giving him enough time to change. chuuya’s hair is still in a loose ponytail and he wears that black choker around his neck as always, but he’s dressed in a white shirt and some sweatpants, his gloveless hands reaching out to rub circles in your back.

he’s bare with you, and that’s what you love most about him.

you’ve had you’re insecurities about not being good enough for him and anything else typical within a relationship, but he never leaves you wondering. he grabs your hand to keep you from floating away too far, getting lost in your own thoughts, often pulling you back into the moment, when you’re lying in bed with him on quiet nights, the sides of your faces only lit by a nearby warm bedside lamp. he’ll trace the side of your face, searching your eyes, asking, “where did you go?”

and you can’t always answer, but you know, every time he asks you this question, that at least you can tell him where you are now. you’re at home with him. 

and this moment is no different, with his calloused hands gliding up and down your back, and you only let out a small whine, shuffling closer to him as best as you can with how tangled you are up in his sheets.

“what’s wrong?” he asks softly, head tilting towards you slightly as you shimmy closer. “how can i help, sweetheart?”

you like how clear he is. how he always tells you what he’s thinking. he never leaves anything up to interpretation, always silencing your thoughts before they can make an assumption and run far with it.

while in the beginning of your relationship, it was hard to always voice what you needed, you came to realize with time that when chuuya asked you what he could do to help, it wasn’t him pressuring you to tell him what was wrong. it was simply how his head worked; he wanted you to be clear about what you needed. if that meant talking out your problems, he would listen. if that meant leaving you alone, he’d give you as much time as you needed (albeit probably checking in at some points just to make sure you didn’t need anything, it was just his nature to care for you). but all in all, he just needed you to talk to him. he would talk to you, you would talk to him. that's how miscommunication was prevented. your mind always felt so clear when you were around him because of how rationally he seemed to think of everything—all you had to do was follow his lead, and everything else came easily. things were never sugar-coated between the two of you, they were said plain and simple. (and with how charming he was, chuuya’s words often ended up being just as sweet as sugar anyway, not even needing to be wrapped up in some false front. when he said “i love you,” it was something clear. a fact, not something said just to appease you or mellow things out, he said it because he meant it).

and how refreshing it was, being lost in a sea of your own murky, unclear thoughts based off of assumptions upon assumptions, to be pulled from that ocean to the shoreline and be promised that the sun would rise again.

eventually, opening up to him became easier. even thought it sometimes took a few hours, you always ended up telling him what was on your mind and he waited patiently every time. he only ever listened unless you asked for more, and he never invalidated your feelings. trusting that he was just going to listen to you, it began to take even less time to prepare yourself to open up. it became as easy as taking a sip of water; something you had to do voluntarily, but was still needed, healing, and often refreshing.

the pitch of your voice slightly heightens as you hum a “yes” in response to his question, curling up closer to him, and his fingers have found their way into your hair, combing through it. “got tired of everything,” you whisper softly, resting your forehead against the side of his thigh, thankful for his contact.

“yeah? i’m sure you did, baby. you’re doing a lot. it’s good to take a break every now and then. anything in particular spur you to take the day off? there’s no shame in just deciding to take a rest day for the hell of it either, though,” he speaks as gently as his actions, shifting slightly on the bed so that you can rest more comfortably, your head now laying in his lap, and he brushes your hair out of your face as you look up at him and his pretty bangs framing his face as he leans down towards you.

you hum in thought at the question, searching your brain for the answer. was there something that had triggered you to break today? or was it just the build-up of it all? “not really anything in particular,” you shrug slightly, still admiring his golden-brown eyes, hooded and soft, gazing into your own, “just felt like everything came toppling down today. i’ve just been thinking too much about what others think of me. i don’t feel that important to the world, or my job. i’m easily replaceable–nothing special–and yet i have to keep fighting for this job. i have to fight to occupy space for myself in the world when i never even asked to be here in the first place. —and of course you make everything better but i mean–you know me. you’re good to me. you’re too good to me. and sometimes i can’t understand why you waste all of that goodness in you on me.” by the time you’re finished, he’s gently lifted your head out of his lap to lay down on his side next to you, continuing to face you the entire time. 

you finish your long-winded explanation of unreasonable worries, and he only stares into your face, and you begin to shift under his eyes uncomfortably. his head his propped up in his hands, and he wears a small smile on his face, eyes flicking every few moments to focus on a different part of your face. “...chuu?” you whisper his name quietly, and his smile only grows.

“sorry, got too caught up admiring your pretty face,” he apologizes, and there he goes again, being so honest it makes your heart squeeze sometimes. he shifts his position slightly, reaching out his free hand to intertwine his slender fingers with yours, gently pressing the pads of his fingertips against your own, playing with them. “well, first of all, don’t think of your life through the lens that you are now. you can’t control or read anyone else’s mind, and that’s okay. people make a lot of irrational decisions anyway, it’s impossible to predict what someone will do, so don’t worry about what they think. what makes how they perceive you or what they think more correct than what you feel? they could be totally wrong about something, and they are if they think you’re replaceable, or bad, or whatever. don’t make yourself smaller for anyone else. you’re so smart and thoughtful and if anyone makes you feel bad about who you are, i’ll talk shit back to them, alright?”

you nod at his words but don’t meet his attempt to lighten the mood, only shifting closer again, hiding your face in his chest, breathing in his scent. his hand is back on your head, keeping you close while combing through your hair. “i think you're perfect as you are, [y/n]. i wouldn't want you any other way. you're the only thing on my mind all the time and you’re all i think about—if you're worried about what goes through my mind. i'll always be here for you, i'll be right behind you even if the world is against you. all you need is me, i’d burn everything to the ground for you in a heartbeat."

dazai.

as a kid, you quickly learned not to fight back. 

others were allowed to be angry and lash out, but when you did the same, it was wrong wrong wrong.

when you were young, you learned that love was conditional.

there was no understanding when it came to your emotions. no matter the kind of day that you had you were still expected to always be kind and patient, and never yell back.

to be loved–or rather, to simply survive in this world, you had to be the smaller person; never expect someone to love you for who you are, but because they like that you’re agreeable, quiet, and passive. never expect anyone to care about how you feel, no matter how close of a friend they are.

and surely, you couldn’t expect any kind of empathy from a coworker.

but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, and you could feel the way your chest contracted, suffocating with you, every time you were the brunt of kunikida’s critiques. there was no middle between letting the man belittle you to a husk of your former self or the scariest option of all: say something and risk your dynamic with him worsening even more.

setting boundaries and speaking your mind had never been things that came easy to you, as admitting that something was wrong in your relationship with someone always seemed to leave a gaping hole in the relationship that would always be prevalent, at least to you. telling someone who seemed to be unaware of how unkind their words were “you’re hurting me” seemed to always make things awkward between you and the other party. they realized they could no longer throw you around and every time they left, you couldn't help but think you should've dealt with it and kept your mouth shut. 

so you smile and nod along to whatever kunikida’s ordering you to do next, fake laughing when he says something about how important the job is and to make sure you don’t fail, as if such an option was even possible. you had never messed up anything he asked you to do, and with how long he went on about the importance of the job, you never planned to. but his ending words always reminded you of how little your efforts seemed to matter to him. he would never trust you or see you as anything better than just a little office worker to dump work on.

your face drops as soon as the man turns his back to you, and you let out a quiet sigh before returning to the laptop in front of you before hands upon your shoulders scare you.

“caught you!” a voice pops up from behind you, making you exclaim, jumping in your seat, whipping your head around to see a familiar brown-haired man. he was always causing problems for kunikida and getting scolded, and yet he seemed to be able to take everything as a light-hearted joke. he came into work every day with a smile on his face and new ways to irritate kunikida, while you couldn’t see yourself ever returning to this office if that man yelled at you the way he yelled at the boy in front of you even once.

“dazai! you scared me,” your eyes follow him as he slides into the chair next to you, slightly rolling away from you with how he’d launched himself into the seat. “what did you…catch?” you ask, watching as he scoots closer back to you again, resting his cheek on a bandaged arm atop of the oak desk you both sit at.

“now, now. let's not try and act all innocent. why are you letting him talk to you like that if it hurts you?” he asks with a smile, while your face only pales, your heart completely freezing up the moment you hear the question you fear most. you have to tear your eyes away before he sees through you anymore, and you look down into your lap, where you’re picking at your fingers. if dazai noticed it, surely others did. had kunikida been able to read your face? had you offended him because you refused to communicate your true feelings with him? maybe you seemed like a stuck-up individual in his eyes if he could tell that you were faking with him, and you weren’t sure if him believing that lie or finding out the truth would be worse.

“well i…” you trail off when his fingers come into your line of sight, intertwining them with yours, stopping you from the bad habit.

“have i ever gotten upset with you for very understandably getting annoyed at my endless antics? have we ever disagreed on something we absolutely refused to resolve? no to both. but are humans creatures of imperfection by nature? have we all made mistakes? yes, and that’s why they’re able to forgive each other unless they’re insufferably stuck up. but don’t let your head turn kunikida into a monster he’s not. he’ll understand if you ask him to speak to you less directly, or with more belief in you. he’s giving you these jobs because he trusts you, you know. he just rambles on about the importance of them because that’s who he is. you know that, and you know him. you know he’ll work to treat others with the respect they deserve, you just have to tell him so first. but he’s not going to get mad at you,” your eyes flick up from where he’s running a thumb along your knuckles up to him, only to find him already looking at you with those warm hazel brown eyes of his. he’s right, and it feels nice to be seen and not bashed for your true feelings. instead, you're being understood. under his gaze, you no longer feel weak for how sensitive or emotional you may feel. he’s looking at you like you’re worth something, worth enough that you can fight for yourself, worth enough to deserve to be comfortable in your relationships, rather than used by those near you.

“thank you,” you mumble, and he’s pulled you close by the wheels of your own chair, your knees knocking as one of his hands reach up to caress the back of your neck, soothing you further as you continue to look at him.

his lips are still curved into a smile, not the trickster one he wears as he comes up with his next plot to harass kunikida, but a soft, genuine one, like he loves and cares about you, without you even asking anything of him. maybe this is what love is; being looked at and known, without even having to open your mouth.

“of course, angel,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against the back of your scalp, “bring it up while atsuhi or i are around if you want, we’ll help you explain how you feel. you’re not alone, you never were and you never have to be."

ranpo.

ranpo’s heightened abilities to observe, infer, and understand go far past anything related to his detective work. 

the first time he found you feeling down and wanted to comfort you, he defaulted to what he knows helps him feel better (i.e. sweet treats, dim lights, warm, quiet environments). the entire time, while his hand is on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you lean against him, soft cries muffled by the blanket he’s placed over you, his brain is running the entire time with what he can do best to support you; did you like what he brung you? do you prefer to isolate yourself or do you like the company when you’re feeling down? blankets or no blankets? do you want him to talk to you and try to provide a distraction or is just being there for you what you need? touch, or no touch?

ranpo is so attentive to your needs. whatever you want and is best for you, he will get you and do for you. he gives all thanks to fukuzawa, for helping him realize not everyone sees the world the way he does, all those years ago. since then, he’s learned to be more responsive, emotionally thoughtful, and soft-hearted in his responses if that’s that what you need. but if you want to hear logic and how he’s rationalizing out your situation, he can do that, too. again, he is completely willing to bend and shape himself to your needs. the only thing he will always push for is to be in a room with you when you’re feeling down, even if you don’t want company </3

he knows when you really need to be alone, but he doesn’t like to let you be on your own for too long. he’ll always be in the next room over if you need anything, quietly pacing the room, only worried and thinking of you and if he can do anything more for you. if you’re curled up in bed all night, he’ll eventually knock on the door to ask if he can sleep with you and keep you company. he wholeheartedly believes letting other people help you and be there for you helps, especially to prevent you from spiraling down any pits of despair or insecurity. he wants you to know how much he cares about you and your wellbeing, he wants to be there to hold you close, press gentle kisses to your head, and murmur promises that he’ll never ever leave you alone.

but if you say no to company, he is happy to sleep on the couch and will be up the moment you call his name if you need something or decide you do want company. he is there completely for you always and whenever, and all of it comes from a place of love. he’ll never push you to do anything or tell him anything you don’t want to, and he’ll try not to infer anything even if he knows he could use context clues to find out exactly what’s upsetting you. he knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready if you want to, and it’s never his job to be in your business. his only responsibility is to love you and make sure you know it <3

oda.

you’ve never been great at facing your own problems, and you’re even worse at facing others in your time of struggle. it feels impossible to rely upon anyone, no matter how close they are to you.

sakunosuke oda is a selfless man, always taking care of others, putting their wellbeing above his own. he took in five orphans despite knowing the increased risk to his own safety that would come with taking care of them, and he still chose to do it despite not having a place of his own to take care of them at. he gives half of his wage as one of the lowest-ranking members of the port mafia to the kids every time he receives his salary and he’s never once deviated from the habit.

you know he’d drop everything for you if you told him what was wrong, but you couldn’t do that to him. it didn’t feel that serious. and worst of all, telling him how you were feeling would only cause him to cut his job short and then he’d be standing there with you while you continued to wallow in misery; of course his presence would help you feel better, but it wouldn’t immediately solve everything.

it wasn’t worth it. was your justification as you slipped out of your shared apartment. it wasn’t worth telling someone else how you were feeling, because they couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t even figure out for yourself what was wrong. you had to make your existence worth it instead, then. the best way you found, to distract yourself from your feelings and make sure they remained pushed down, was by helping others. no one whose in need of help often asks how others are truly doing, and you like that about them.

you don’t tell him where you’re going. you have nothing to hide; you just don’t want to worry him. you’ll tell him if he asks, but for now, you’re on your own.

but what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t know you? if he hadn’t memorized and kissed every mole, freckle, and blemish adorning your body? he knew you better than you realized, although you could never fully accept the fact that he paid attention to you, remembered your likes and dislikes, and knew your habits and routines like the back of his hand, all just because he loves you.

and when he comes home from work to an empty house, searching for any traces of you, he’s not worried. he has an idea of where you are and he knows that all he needs to do is text you, if he's curious. and he doesn’t immediately push his assumptions onto you about why you might be out and where; he knows you can take care of yourself and that you’ll communicate your needs to him. so when he texts you, it's not that he's demanding that you come home or ot tell him your whereabouts. rather, his texts are just to let you know he cares and is waiting for you at home.

sakunosuke ♡ : i’m home, just wanted to let you know

sakunosuke ♡ : text me if you need anything. and be safe

if he sees that you haven’t at least read his message within an hour or if he just can't wait to see you when you get home, whenever that may be, he already knows where to find you nine times out of 10. he’ll text the owner of his favorite curry shop, asking him if he’s seen you while already on his way down to the restaurant.

it's usually where he can find you there when you’re feeling down; braiding sakura’s hair, folding their laundry, coloring with one of the boys, helping out downstairs in the kitchen, or wherever else you can find a place to keep yourself busy. he knows that you’re always like this when you’re upset, and if you won’t take the day off to take care of yourself, then he will do it for you happily and well. he won’t even try to pull you away from what you’re doing–he’ll simply sit down with you, grabbing his own colored pencil while making small talk with the kids, giving you a small smile when you realize he's come into the room. or suddenly he’s next to you, helping you carry and hang up laundry, or drying off the dishes you’re washing.

and then before you know it, you’re walking home with him, hand in hand, a plastic bag rustling in his free one. you’ve both stopped to get food on the way home, and once you make it there, he’s immediately sitting you down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “let me do everything, love.” he’ll help you out of your clothes into something more comfortable, holding your hair back while you wash your face and clean up, he’ll pull your chair out for you as you sit back down, and run a hand through your hair, keeping any stray strands out of your face as you eat. 

outside of the house, you can bury your feelings as much as you want to and work to please others, but at home with him, you’re the focus. you’re the one who’s honored and worshipped in the house. sakunosuke’s not letting you lift a finger if he can help it, and you can’t get away with continuing to ignore your feelings when his only desire is to help you.

and you’ll tell him what’s bothering you when you’re ready. he knows that after how long you both have been together. and so in the meantime, he’ll wait patiently, showering you with all the love in the world. ♡

[chiara-hotel]

“He just left, Come over!” Prank on them

Characters: Chuuya, Dazai

[satorella]

“𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞”

𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 knocks on your office door.

“Come in!” He heard you call out. As soon as he stepped through the door, you were instantly hit with a whiff of his favorite, expensive cologne. One that you actually had gotten for him. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

“I came to drop these off.” He places a few folders on your desk. You looked at the folders, then nodded, expecting him to leave right away… but he didn’t. He could’ve had someone else, like Gin or something, drop the folders off for him. But he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t do this anymore. He needed to see you. “What do you want, Nakahara?” He slightly flinched at the use of his last name. “Don’t be like that, doll.” This was the first time you two have spoken since you moved out. He walks around your desk and sits down on the corner, his knee just centimeters away from your arm. He watched you for a moment while you scribbled on some documents, not even sparing him a glance. He reached over to caress your cheek, and as if on instinct, you leaned into his touch; acting before thinking.

Damnit.

“C’mon. I know I’m not the only one who’s down in the dumps here… Kouyou talks y’know, heh.” His voice was soft. It always was when he was being sincere. This caused your shoulders to slightly relax, giving into him. As hard as you guys tried to keep it together on the outside, both of you were completely broken on the inside. He was just, surprisingly, the first to crack. He slowly spins your chair to face him, and wrapped his arms around you. “The apartment doesn’t feel like home without ya...” He whispered in your ear, his breath felt warm against your skin. You clenched your jaw, but didn’t pull away. You were trying so damn hard to keep your emotions in check. Trying to keep your chin held up high.

You’re a Port Mafia Executive for fucks sake.

Chuuya let his hands wander, tracing patterns on your clothed back. “You don’t have to act so strong all the time… at least not with me.” Well fuck, that’s all it took to have your walls crumbling down. It was like a floodgate had bursted open. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ugly sobbed against his shoulder, finally letting out everything you’ve been holding in for the last couple months. Chuuya just held you through it, rubbing your back and nuzzling his face in your hair. He’s never truly been good with emotional stuff, but for you, he would do anything. “I’ve got you, love.”

“Please come home…”

© 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  girl dad Chūya 𝆬 ·࣭࣪̇˖୨୧

Girl dad Chūya, who, the moment he learns he's having a little girl with you, is already overjoyed, coming up with names you both will hopefully like and thinking about how to furnish the future bedroom, how to best bond with her. 

Girl dad Chūya, who usually isn't prone to overthinking, though he can't help but worry about his future daughter — or daughters. While he'd like to protect her himself at all times, he knows that won't be possible, which is why he's quick to teach her some ways of self-defense. If she inherited his Ability, great; if not, he'll teach her some basic fight moves even if she has no actual interest in martial arts. It's for an important reason, after all. Really, he might just get her something a little more strong than pepper spray, too — just in case. 

Naturally, he'll defend her with his life as well; if anyone were to ever try and hurt you or her, he makes sure to get rid of them. 

Girl dad Chūya, who bonds easily with his daughter, no matter what her hobby is — if she's more into sports, perhaps soccer or even martial arts, that's amazing; he's not the best martial artist in the Port Mafia for nothing, and he'll gladly teach her how to get her movements to be extra crisp and sharp. If she's into fashion, that's great, too, given how he takes dressing himself properly seriously as well, and he won't hesitate to buy her whatever she sets her eyes on. He's got the necessary money, after all. Even if she's into art and books and other topics he himself isn't too interested in — not to say he's not fond of a good painting or novel; he just rarely finds the time to indulge in those kind of interest —, he makes sure to encourage her to be herself, to do what makes her happy, and often asks specific questions about the novel she's reading or the piece she's currently drawing to be as involved as possible. 

He doesn't mind sitting through three to four Barbie movies in a row; at one point, he even starts getting into them rather than just tolerating them, grimacing at the antagonists and cheering for Barbie and Ken, though he'll also recommend other films, especially ones that aren't stereotypically seen as girly and feminine. Just because she likes Barbie doesn't mean she can't also enjoy Jurassic Park or Star Wars, after all. 

Girl dad Chūya, who does absolutely anything to make sure his daughter is happy and safe; even though he's a strong and scary mafioso at day, his Ability terrifying and powerful, his rank as an executive intimidating, he won't shy away from painting his nails just to see his daughter giggle and to hold imaginary tea parties with her. God, if she wants to, he'll even squeeze himself into a frilly dress, a tiara on his head, matching the one on his daughter's, if only it makes her laugh. 

That's the most important thing, after all. He didn't have a particularly happy childhood himself, which is why he'll do his utmost to make sure her early years of life are as perfect as can be. 

this drabble was a commission!! thank you so much again!! 💜

tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann

@Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving

@Chxrry-doll @brokeniced @nikolaisdove @dxwnstxr

[moomuzan]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Add Up My Love

or ( hyper- ) specific romance imagines with dazai, chuuya, ranpo, akutagawa, fyodor

You had never seen Dazai so quiet. The late evening light painted the room in shades of amber, casting a golden halo around him as he sat at his desk, pen gliding smoothly over paper. His expression was unguarded, almost vulnerable, lips moving faintly as though he were whispering the words he was writing to the empty air. There was a stillness to him, an absence of his usual dramatics, that made you pause in the doorway, hesitant to disturb the rare peace. But curiosity, that insistent pull, eventually dragged you closer. “Dazai?” you called softly.

His hand stilled mid-word, shoulders stiffening as if caught in a secret. Slowly, he turned to face you, his usual grin making an appearance, but it lacked its usual spark. “Ah, bella,” he drawled lightly, “what impeccable timing. Caught me in the middle of my dull, bureaucratic duties.” But your eyes had already fallen to the letter on the desk, its ink still glistening, the words “To my dearest, whenever you find this,” staring back at you. As your chest tightened, and realization dawned, you reached for the paper. Surprisingly, he didn’t stop you, only sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Just leaving something behind,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For you. In case there’s ever a day I can’t say these things myself.”

dt siyun xo

Chuuya’s boots echoed through the hallway as he entered your apartment, his gaze immediately snapping to you, barely standing on your own. As you swayed slightly, the wine still clouding your mind, his expression darkened. “You’re a mess,” he grumbled, his voice sharp but laced with something that wasn’t quite anger. Without waiting for you to respond, he was already at your side, his hand steadying your waist with surprising firmness, his other arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the bathroom. “C’mon, you’re not going to bed like this.”

You mumbled something incoherent, but he paid it no mind, already pulling a chair out in front of the mirror and gently sitting you down. His movements were surprisingly tender as he grabbed the makeup remover. There was no hurry in his hands as he carefully pressed the cotton pad to your skin, wiping away the smeared mascara with an attention to detail that caught you off guard. His eyes, though gruff, softened as they traced your face, erasing the evidence of your night out. “Can’t believe you let yourself get this bad,” he murmured, though there was no real bite behind the words. When Chuuya moved to your hair, his fingers slid through your tangles, gentle but insistent, working through each knot with a patience that felt almost reverent. “Don’t move.” With a touch softer than you had ever expected from him, he brushed your hair with careful strokes. “I’m staying with you until you have sobered up.”

Akutagawa lingered at the edge of the room, watching you with a quiet intensity. The dim glow of the streetlights outside bathed your form in a soft halo, your chest rising and falling in a gentle, almost hypnotic rhythm. Replaced by an unfamiliar stillness as he observed the delicate vulnerability you wore in your sleep, the cold edges of his usual demeanor melted away. Every line of tension in his body seemed to ease, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world felt distant. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, softened as they traced the curve of your face, the way your hair fell carelessly around you. He found himself held captive by the simplicity of the moment, as if your presence alone grounded him.

You shifted in your sleep, muttering something barely audible, and Akutagawa froze. The sound of your voice, though muffled by sleep, stirred something deep inside him—a pull he couldn’t resist. His heart thudded a little louder, and before he could stop himself, a quiet, gruff sound slipped from his lips. “Tch, idiot,” he murmured, his tone betraying an uncharacteristic tenderness. He quickly turned away, a faint flush rising to his cheeks, his pulse quickening in a way that both startled and unsettled him. Gripping the doorframe to steady himself, as if the weight of this strange emotion might overwhelm him, he retreated into the shadows while his mind raced with feelings tangled into something more profound than he’d ever expected.

Dim lights of the room flickered as soft piano notes drifted through the air, barely audible, as if the music itself were hesitant to interrupt the silence between you. Fyodor stood before you, his presence commanding, even in the stillness. His hands hovered near your waist, their tension palpable, a silent request for you to take control. There was no impatience in his gaze, only a quiet insistence, a rare vulnerability from the man who always held everything so tightly. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into yours, waiting—no words, just a soft, unspoken command that he would follow you, if only you dared. A test? Yeah, definitely.

As you took the first step, his hand settled against your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your clothes with surprising tenderness. The faintest tremor of control still lingered in his touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you lead with quiet confidence, as if testing the limits of his restraint. The stillness between your movements was thrilling, charged with an electricity neither of you dared to acknowledge. Steady yet barely noticeable, his breath became the only sound that mattered to you as you swayed together, the dance becoming something far more intimate, a shared language only the two of you understood. Although the tension in his body was almost imperceptible,you felt it—his willingness to surrender, if only for this moment.

The quiet morning wrapping you in a serene haze, you woke up slowly, but it was the weight of Ranpo’s arm around you that pulled you fully from sleep. Though, the moment he felt your gentle movements under his touch, he instinctively drew you closer, his form curling tighter against yours as though the intimacy was a need he couldn’t deny. Completely unaware of how tightly he was holding you, his lips buried in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady. He was deep in sleep, yet his grip continued to tighten, as though afraid of losing the radiating warmth of your presence. His legs were tangled with yours, and his hand rested possessively but gently on your waist, each little movement of his body a subconscious plea to stay as close as possible.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he clung to you, his face peaceful and unaware of the vulnerability he was showing. It was a side of him you rarely saw—the brilliant, always composed detective reduced to nothing more than a boy seeking comfort in the quiet security of your arms. Even if he didn’t realize it, his soft sighs and the faint tugging at your shirt as he shifted closer made your heart swell. Before giving it much thought, you gently brushed his hair back, savoring the stillness, content to let him rest. For now, you simply stayed still, lost in the intimacy of that moment—where Ranpo, so often the one with all the answers, was nothing more than a quietly clinging soul seeking warmth.

dt dorothea

a/n: oh alright, need me a chuuya to brush my hair. can yall see the vision? it’s a physical need atp.

xoxo

[mooomuzan]

hyper-specific chuuya bf headcanons

“…the quiet understanding that, even in chaos, they are each other’s home.”

oo.1 :: during a sudden rainstorm, chuuya insists you dance with him in the middle of the empty street. he spins you around dramatically, ignoring how soaked you both get. he even lifts you off the ground in a final, cinematic twirl, laughing at your breathless smile.

oo.2 :: chuuya pretends to hate it when you ask to braid his hair, rolling his eyes and muttering something about how it’s “a waste of time.” but the second you start, he’s completely still, leaning back just enough for you to reach comfortably. he’ll grumble under his breath—“don’t make it look stupid”—but the soft way he closes his eyes gives him away. he secretly loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair, and though he’ll never admit it, he refuses to take the braid out until he absolutely has to.

oo.3 :: if a fight gets particularly heated, chuuya has this infuriating habit of silencing you with a kiss mid-sentence. he’s not doing it to dismiss your feelings—he just can’t stand the thought of you being upset with him for too long. “i hate seeing you mad at me,” he’ll say, his forehead resting against yours, voice quiet and sincere.

oo.4 :: one night, you convince chuuya to graffiti a wall with you. at first, he acts too dignified for it but eventually gets into it, creating surprisingly artistic designs. by the end, he’s smeared in paint, laughing, and calling it a masterpiece.

oo.5 :: chuuya challenges you to a cooking duel, complete with dramatic commentary and music playing in the background. he pretends to be a judge for your dish, acting overly critical, but it’s just to cover up how much he loves your cooking.

oo.6 :: sometimes, after a particularly stressful day, chuuya will wordlessly walk up to you, throw his arms around your waist, and bury his face in your shoulder. he doesn’t say much, just breathes you in like you’re the calm in his storm. if you run your fingers through his hair, he’ll let out the softest sigh, “just needed to hold you right now.”

oo.7 :: when you’re walking side by side, chuuya has an oddly romantic habit of grabbing your wrist. he’ll lift it up and press a small kiss to the inside, lingering for just a second longer than necessary. when you ask him why, he’ll shrug and smirk. “your pulse is there,” he’ll say, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

oo.8 :: he sets up a city-wide treasure hunt for your anniversary, complete with clues written in elegant script. each clue leads to places that are significant to your relationship—like the first place you met, or where you shared your first kiss. he acts all serious as you solve each riddle, but when you finally find the “treasure”—a simple, heartfelt note from him—he admits he just wanted to see your smile as you pieced everything together.

[stargirlo]

whatever she wants ♡.

your boyfie luvs spoiling you with his money! and he doesn't care if he maxes out his credit card just by spending money on the stuff that you want to buy. he just wants to see his pretty girl happy, that's all. his love language is gift giving, so why not show his love to you by showering you with designer bags and red bottoms?

you're always whining about how he shouldn't give you this many stuff, even if it wasn't a special occasion. but he insists, who is going to stop him?

need your nails done? check, appointment is already made. you're craving oysters? the reservation is booked. want to be on the highest floor of a five-star hotel in singapore? prepare for the breathtaking view baby. your birkin bag is getting old? the order is at your doorstep. need a new tiffany and co bracelet? get in the car and lets buy you a new one.

honestly he knows every clothing brand that you like because he has a list of your wants and needs. whenever you say something like "this sundress is cute." or "these tory burch sandals would go with this, yeah?" he would instantly take note of it and buy it for you the next day. this man is tiring, but you absolutely adore him. not because of his money, but because of the way he treats you.

he treats you with full on royalty, as if you were his queen, in which, you already are. so, you can't help but give him your thanks to him for doing all these things.

"f-fuck baby, is this your thanks f'me..?" he dryly chuckles, slenders fingers slipping through your well styled hair, to which it was ruined by how tight he's gripping your fucking scalp. ouchie.

you nodded eagerly, sucking him off like your life depended on it. moans vibrated against his cock, letting his body jolt in absolute pleasure. he threw his head back, letting you have your way on his cock as it snuggles deep down your warm and tight throat. he can't help but buck his hips upwards into your throat, a stifled moan bubbling through his gritted teeth. a sweat rolls down his forehead, eyebrows knit together as he looks down at the gorgeous view of you being between his legs and sucking his cock to oblivion.

"ye'r such a slut y'know t-that . . . shit-" he hissed in pleasure, inhaling sharply before letting out a groan. your thighs rubbed together, trying to reach out for some friction for yourself while you gave your precious boyfriend a blow job. he lets out a string of curses and praises, murmuring something about how he's going to ruin your pussy after this, and it only turned you on further, feeling a wet patch on your victoria secret thong.

suddenly, you withdrew from his cock, watching a thin string of spit connect from his cock and to your glossy lips. you looked up at him teary-eyed, your plump lips turning into a small "o" shape as you let out shallow breaths. "what's wrong baby? dick t'much to take down ye'r throat?" he mocks, looking down at you with a sneer. how mean.

" 's okay sugar, daddy's gotcha . . . now c'mere," he pants, his pointer and ring finger beckoning you to crawl up his lap, and so you did. as you got yourself situated and comfortable on his lap, his cock occasionally rubbing against your soaked panties that was desperate to be fucked like a useless glory hole. his hands move under your skirt, pulling down the thong away as it revealed your hungry pussy to his eyes. it was glistening with your slick, and he was definitely going to have a field day with this slip 'n slide.

"you're so wet f'me, and all jus' by suckin' my dick." he chuckles, gripping your hips firmly and lifting it up with a subtle movement, just enough to feel the tip of his cock rubbing against your puffy 'n needy clit. you let out a short gasp, taking a hold on his shoulders as you looked down at the lewd scenery below you. "aht, aht sugar . . . look at me," he gently slaps your ass, bringing back your attention to him and looking at him directly. he murmurs a low "thereee we go." before sliding you down his cock, a high-pitched yelp eliciting from your lips.

his cock slides in further, deeper and deeper until you feel his cock fill you up to the hilt. you're now basically cockdrunk, and he hasn't done anything to make you be in this position yet. you babbled how he's "too big" and that "you're full" but he could only watch in awe. "shh, shh, look how soaked your pussy is . . . look at how easy it just slides in, aand out." he huffs, moving your hips with ease as the base of his cock slips in and out of your pussy, erupting a lewd squelch.

"now c'mon baby, show me how really thankful you are f'me . . ." his hands now let go of your hips, making you fully sit down on his cock as your pussy warms it up. your lips tug a small pout, his hands being placed behind his head as he raised a brow. his expression already spoke volumes on what he was going to say, so you tried your best to lift up your shaky hips and thighs as you worked your way into riding his cock.

let's just say he had to do most of the work later on :(

💌: gojo satoru, geto suguru, hiromi higuruma, chuuya nakahara, haitani brothers, sanzu haruchiyo, manjiro sano, shuji hanma, wakasa imaushi, rafe cameron, ++ your favs!!

[kamapon]

Look at these bbs✨✨

[aureatchi]

⋆ ✦ ˚｡⋆ THIS SUMMER NIGHT WE FIND SCATTERED DREAMS, I ONCE AGAIN RUN IN THE STARLIGHT ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma.

— what it’s like to stargaze with them. (& more)

a/n. sadly, i have yet to see the aurora borealis and in general, seldom get to see the stars. (light pollution my no.1 enemy !!) but a girl can dream :) (& distract herself from the latest bsd chapters..)

info. fem!reader. fluff. soft everyone lol. some of them are nerds & ramble abt stars. :) + a little poetic. mentions of greek mythology. kissing. buildup to actual topic. profanities in chuuya’s & he may or may not use sskk to help. bsd manga/ability spoilers in fyodor’s.

DAZAI : so in this instance, i’d be perseus, and you’d be andromeda. — he listens to everything you have to say.

Your palm in his, the brunette’s pretty fingers wrapped around yours. He softly massaged your hand as you began telling him, your starstruck lover a story under the show of constellations. It had formed into a little routine since the first time you stargazed with him as a date.

“There was this princess,” you started. “Princess Andromeda. She was a very beautiful woma-”

“You’re more beautiful, though,” Dazai interrupted. You didn’t even get in two complete sentences without his commentary. You sat a bit awestruck while he delivered a kiss to your hand.

“Continue, bella,” big brown eyes teased you.

You hastily recovered. “…She was beautiful. And her mother—Queen Cassiopeia—who was very prideful, decided to brag to Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, that she was prettier than his daughters.”

“I mean, that’s understandable. I brag about you all the time! Why shouldn’t the pretty girl be shown off?”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, reminiscing over the times the detective had shown you off. Whenever you decided to visit the Armed Detective Agency’s office with Dazai, Kunikida would never hear the end of it. When you two went out to eat, he would flatter your name away. “This gorgeous girl would like to order…” “May I please get a table for the angelic lady and I?”

He never failed to fluster you.

“Anyway, Poseidon got angry and decided to send a sea monster to destroy their kingdom. The only way the monster could be pacified was if it could devour Andromeda.”

“A damsel in distress,” Dazai nodded and then dramatically pretended like he was the helpless princess on the ocean. He completely pulled over the blanket the two of you were sharing, using it as a cape—“Someone save me! I’m going to be eaten by a sea monster!”

“‘Samu! I’m cold!”

“Ah, sorry. Perhaps you are the princess, and you need saving from this icy night!” He rewrapped the blanket over your shoulder.

“Stop interrupting me; I’m trying to tell you something!” It was nowhere near icy, but your lover proved his dramaticism even further when a tuft of brown hair grazed your shoulder. He had rested his head on you.

“Oka-ay—sorry, continue!”

“Meanwhile, Perseus—I told you last time, the man who killed Medusa—found Andromeda while flying over with his horse, Pegasus. He immediately fell in love with her, so he slayed the sea monster and rescued her from the rock she was chained to.”

“What a hero,” Dazai said. “So they lived happily ever after?”

“Not yet. Perseus asked Andromeda’s father for permission to marry her but discovered she was already set to marry someone else. And the man she was engaged to got angry that Perseus wanted to marry her.”

“Of course,” he sighed, which puzzled you a bit, but you’d return to his comment later. “I’m rooting for Perseus, though.”

“Well, good for you because the two fought, and Perseus won by showing the other guy Medusa’s head.”

Dazai chuckled. “Nice move! He turned his enemy into his trophy. Imagine if we did that to all our enemies!”

“I think then we’d have a whole army of statues,” you laughed. “But now, he and Andromeda married, and they were able to live happily ever after.

“The gods placed them in the sky so their story would be remembered eternally.” Finished with your recount, you gazed up at the stars.

“The North Star,” you pointed, and when you saw the brunette’s bronze eyes squint, trying to see what you were talking about, you moved closer until you were halfway on his lap.

You took his palm in yours and guided it to a single star.

“That one. All the characters’ constellations I mentioned in the story revolve around that star. Perseus with his sword, Andromeda flying on Pegasus...”

“Huh? That’s the North Star? Isn’t it supposed to be the brightest in the sky or something?” It didn’t stand out from the rest as much as he thought.

You giggled. “That’s a myth, ‘samu. It’s funny you didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I never really had time to appreciate and learn about something so peaceful like nature until now.” He turned to you.

“Until you.”

You weren’t sure how, but it was almost as if the moonlight had carved out his pretty face. Ethereal, you had called the moon, and it reflected in your lover’s features. His eyes took in the charm of the millions of lights in the night and synthesized the feeling to bring it back to you.

“If I were one of the gods, I would’ve created a whole galaxy reflecting your soul.”

In the midst of terror and chaos, the detective’s eyes revolved around humans and their violence rather than around the sun and the planets. Eyes and soul—how else could he focus on anything else when that’s all life showed him?

“Because I see the constellations in you—Andromeda, Pegasus, Carina, Orion…” it had been a few months, and throughout you had shown and told him all the stories behind the stars in the sky.

“And now I can stop to smell the flowers, love. I can watch the Ursa Minor, even if I still find it hard to sleep.” You were the bridge to his bronze gaze and iron marrow—you showed him that you were human, but that a heart could really exist without violence or malice.

I see a reason why the nebulas are placed as they are, even if stories are just stories. I see a reason I’m here. With you.

He sealed the thought with a kiss to your lips, under the celestial moon and the heavens’ watch.

You always wondered why Dazai paid such close attention whenever you started rambling—initially, you didn’t think he’d care that much about tales of space. But you understood him a bit better now, his complex heart. You held onto him a bit tighter to him as you kissed him back.

…

“Oh yeah. What did you mean when you said ‘of course,’ when I started talking about Perseus having to fight over another guy for Andromeda?”

And Dazai was his lighthearted self once again.

“We’re definitely Andromeda and Perseus in another universe,” Dazai winked. “You’ve always deserved to be treated like a princess! I would totally save you from a sea monster. And I’d be an equestrian if I could too—even better, a flying one!”

“Sure…”

“C’mon, bella, you see me at those horse-racing events all the time! Anyway, most important of all, I had to fight for you. Such a tough world when every other man is also at your feet.” He crossed his arms. “Having Medusa’s head would’ve made things so much easier! I really would’ve had a whole army of stone statues if I did.”

“No, you really didn’t need it at all,” you replied, laughing at Dazai, who was now pouting.

“Osamu the demigod: slayer of monsters or not, I only have eyes for you.” You kissed him on the cheek.

“Unlike Andromeda, I wouldn’t let two men fight over me and marry the one who wins.

“I would just choose you right away.”

CHUUYA : babydoll, you’re worth more than all those stars combined. — he only gives you the best.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. Thank you for informing me, though,” you said before hanging up the phone.

You didn’t sue them on the line, albeit irritated. Tonight, you were supposed to have a date with Chuuya at one of the fancy restaurants he somehow discovered more of in the city when you thought you finally visited them all, but your reservations were cancelled last minute.

“Hey, princess,” the handsome ginger said when you phoned him next. You could sense a smile through his words on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“Weird-ass restaurant cancelled our plans,” you said. “Not even a refund.”

Chuuya quickly picked up on the disappointment in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t get his money back. Money was nothing—he was a Port Mafia executive. Stacks of bills piled into his hands every day, and he quietly flexed on it through his collection of wine in the cellar, his clothes, and gifts to you.

What he wasn’t wealthy in was time. It had been almost a month since Chuuya had any free time—the boss had been overworking him amidst never-ending Yokohama mayhem. His large penthouse actually proved to be a disadvantage when you were the only one staying in it. It was too empty; it was too quiet for a home, there was an awkward gap in the bed you slept in.

“It’s okay, baby,” came Chuuya’s voice reassuringly. “Don’t worry ‘bout some shitty-ass restaurant.

“Meet me home at the rooftop at the time we originally planned.”

“…Alright,” you replied, unsure of what he was going to do, but you were grateful anyway that you’d get to spend time with him.

“And get ready too, like we originally planned,” he added, and this time, you could imagine the smugness in his smile. “See ya soon.”

…

The bell chimed as the elevator approached the top of Chuuya’s apartment, signaling that you reached the rooftop.

“Chuu?” you called out as the doors opened. He was nowhere to be found—instead a pathway of candles and a trail of rose petals leading to the other side.

Your heels clicked on the ground as you slowly followed the course. It was dark towards the back of the rooftop, but the front overlooked the entire city of Yokohama.

Another quiet flex.

“Hey, beautiful.” You noticed him before the lively city behind him, before the romantic scene he had set up—the path of petals expanded into scattering around the table Chuuya was sitting at. He was dressed up too—looking as attractive as ever.

“The Nakahara Restaurant,” you hummed, taking a seat in front of him. “Not bad.”

Chuuya smirked. “Not bad? We get Michelin stars, baby. Trust me.”

You giggled. “I don’t know about that, Chuu. You’ll have to prove it to me.” It was like you had turned the tables on him. Usually, he only deemed a restaurant good if you were pleased with the food.

“Alright.” Now, you were going to rate his. You could tell he was going to enjoy this.

“You hungry?”

You nodded.

With a snap of Chuuya’s fingers, you immediately heard footsteps scurrying toward the two of you.

Two young men, one with raven hair until silver tips and the other with an entirely silver head—you realized they were waiters from who knows where—approached you with a dish.

“Appetizers by Executive Nakahara,” the first one said.

“Wait—did you cook everything too?”

“Duuh, you take this for a fraud or something?” Chuuya failed to hide the pride on his face.

…

The appetizer, entrée, and dessert proved delicious, and you were forced to eat your previous words.

He was talented in just about everything.

Chuuya kicked the two ‘waiters’ out of his house after dessert was served, leaving the two of you finally alone. The candlelight amid the dark sky enveloped your figures in an intimate glow.

“I would’ve been fine with even just takeout,” you laughed after taking a sip out of your wine glass.

He smiled. “As if. It’s a special night, doll, we finally have time to see each other again.”

“Exactly! Seeing you is what matters most,” you said.

“Anyway, thank you, Chuu. I appreciate this so much. And I guess you’re right—you earn a Michelin Star from me.”

Chuuya looked towards the city below you and back. “Didn’t doubt it one bit. But that’s not the only stars we’re getting tonight.”

You looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get shocked.”

Your lover snapped again—you picked up a slight difference in it this time compared to the previous times he signaled—and suddenly, Yokohama went dark.

You didn’t know how, but the city’s electricity had completely cut off at the mafia executive’s command.

“Chuu—?”

“You’re not looking the right way.”

You had been staring at the pitch-black buildings below in fazed awe, but it seemed to have switched places with the skies as now, small scattered lights began to fade in when you looked up, your eyes adjusting to the dark.

“Chuu!” You stood up in excitement. “We can see stars! In Yokohama!”

The ginger chuckled before pulling out a folded comforter from under the table. “Here, it’s better this way. Now this is what the wine was really for.”

…

Chuuya had fixed the comforter on the rooftop and pulled out a few pillows so that you were able to lie down and watch above more comfortably.

“I did this a lot when I stayed in Paris for a bit,” he said, explaining how he got the idea. “But the lights stayed on 24/7 there, too, so I had to use a telescope.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “We could’ve done that too. You really startled everyone just for this.”

As if on cue, you suddenly heard someone shout in the distance, going “Hey! Who the hell turned off all the lights?!” You and Chuuya both snorted.

“Just for you,” he corrected. “I think this is better anyway. They can handle one night without power. And I made sure the hospitals and other important establishments stayed untouched.”

It was crazy how much power the man had. “Not entirely evil then,” you said.

“Yeah, plus I was also really aiming at that restaurant that tried ruining our plans,” Chuuya smirked.

You looked back at the stars and then Chuuya again, who hadn’t taken his cerulean eyes off your face.

You lay together to gaze at the stars. But instead of those, he was looking at you.

You couldn’t stop the flurry of coyness you got. He looked absolutely stunning under the heavens—it was almost unfair. It would be if you weren’t the one who got to see him in such a state. He looked mesmerized—mesmerized with you?

“Hey, you’re going to miss it if you keep staring at me,” you said.

“I’m seeing you and those galaxies for the first time in a while,” Chuuya replied. “I think I’d rather watch you.”

He kissed you while you were still smiling, causing him to grin, too. You felt light and safe around him and the blankets, and he felt the same. All aggression and stress ceased from his head, healed by you and the moonlight.

“Y’can name stars after people too, right?” he asked when you pulled back. “I swear, I’m going to make the next scientist who discovers one name it after you. It’d be way better than those random shitty names they give nowadays.”

FYODOR : i have the cosmos mapped out, likewise your soul. — you alone, he adores.

There was not a word said as you got into the passenger seat of the car that Fyodor was driving. He had left a note earlier that day—Zolotse, you’re coming with me on a mission tonight. Prepare what you need and bring the sleeping bags, and you had done so with little hesitation.

The sun had already gone down, but you were used to this. Initially, you had thought his job the opposite of himself—the demon was called to bizarre places sporadically and had to adapt to their settings in a short amount of time. You only realized after being with him for a while that he planned these things beforehand, and he planned them long ago.

The job was made for him—his little game of fate and chess.

He drove for around four hours straight. In that time, you had put on your favorite music, and talked with him about the usual—your latest philosophical obsession, anything interesting about his latest endeavors—you hadn’t realized you had gotten so far away from civilization.

Fyodor must’ve become nocturnal from all the time he’d spent in the dark, because it was pitch-black in all directions when he finally parked the car and you stepped out.

And only then you finally asked him. “Fedya, where are we?”

He didn’t respond, instead going to the back of the car and opening the trunk, handing you your sleeping bag and a flashlight.

You flipped the switch on, trying to scan the surroundings for any hint of where this journey took you.

“Darling, you’re quite naïve,” Fyodor said as you looked down at rocks and twigs below your shoes. “I’m concerned about how easily you agreed to let someone drive you hours out into the wilderness.”

“I’d do it only for you,” you replied, giggling. “I trust you.” Alas, he had answered your question, though you still didn’t know what he was here for.

“Follow me. We have a bit of hiking to do.”

…

A secret hideout? Meeting spot? Something valuable hidden here? Your mind came up with countless reasons why your lover’s current mission took place on a mountain and how he could even navigate without a map. The entire thing was strange—you hadn’t even seen him take any valuables of some kind besides a tent and his own sleeping bag.

The walk-up was a bit tedious. Thankfully, you wore the right shoes and had eaten well beforehand, but you still didn’t expect you would be partaking in exercise so late at night. It was also hard to see, the flashlights scarcely making a difference.

You came across a very steep hill; it was almost like you had to climb rather than hike up.

“Apologies for the inconvenience,” you heard Fyodor from above as he went first to ensure each step was safe. “It’ll be worth it later.”

“Ah-” You hardly had time to ponder his statement when you misstepped on a loose twig, causing you to slip. However, a hand reached to tightly grab you before you slid down.

“Careful, milaya.”

Fyodor kept your hand clasped in his throughout the rest of the trek. You finally reached a large clearing by the edge of a cliff—devoid of trees and hard bedrock.

“We’re here.”

He began setting up the tent while you looked around. There was nothing at all out of the ordinary—nothing suspicious for the demon to use. Were you really here just to camp?

“The goal: your eyes to adjust.”

Fyodor had finished and had been looking at you for some time—smiling, at the way your brows furrowed and how you were still lost with this entire night.

“What-?” you asked as he walked over to take your sleeping bag. You followed him as he set it right next to his.

“Sit next to me, lyubov,” he said, guiding you down. “I’ll tell you the secret to getting directions up here.”

He tilted his head up, and for the first time, you noticed an entire galaxy before you.

…

Drenched under the vastness of the dark skies and lights of the stars, Fyodor began to speak.

“We’ve used star navigation for thousands of years,” he said. “Fifty-eight stars and thirty-eight constellations that we’re able to use, but you only need to locate the Ursa Major to find north and Orion to find west.”

You nodded. Perhaps this is what he had come here to do—find directions to something that no GPS or technology recorded. He had probably taken you along just because he thought you’d admire the view and how you did. Fyodor was right—the walk-up was worth this view.

It was like you were in a trance. You had seen stars, but nothing like this before. The entire Milky Way galaxy was visible to your eyes, countless little suns that seemed barely out of your grasp, even though they were millions of miles away.

“Fedya, how many of them do you recognize by name?”

“By now, I have them all memorized because I’ve found it helpful. If an apocalypse surged the earth, they would still be there. If the world ended, they would still be there. The cosmos remain untouched by us—they watch humanity dance from afar. The nomads knew this the best—when we traveled, we relied on nothing but nature.”

You wondered how many body transfers it took for him to retain them all. There were so many little lights in the sky, it seemed near impossible to be able to gather even half in a mind’s jar. You guessed tens of years at the least, and even with that time, you knew only he could do it.

“You commend them too, don’t you?” you spoke, taking a risk in guessing his views.

“Elaborate for me.” You made eye contact with him, and amethyst eyes fawned over by the night almost enticed you even more than the entire view of the universe afore you.

“You appreciate them, and everything else that lays on the earth after the sun sets because they hold no flaw. They aren’t blemished by the foolishness of people.

“You can be at peace with them because they are perfect, unlike us.”

“You’re right. The perfect mankind would be as pure as the sun and the stars—untainted by something as unnatural as abilities. That’s how I see it, but why group yourself in such faults?”

“Hm?” was the only sound you were able to get out, when he grazed his fingers along your face, cupping your cheek.

“Printsessa, you are perfect.” He spoke smoothly, rich accent making his words sound like a lullaby.

“Your soul dances with the kosmos. Something so divine—you are the harmony of something as beautiful as what we see tonight.

“You are the only one who matches the heavens; my love, you surpass the heavens.”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you only registered then that it was you two alone. It felt like you two were the only ones in the world with the witnesses to your love being the ends of the horizons, and that the universe who put on a show in the sky instead turned to watch you.

…

“Fedya…what was the mission?” you asked softly as you cuddled with him, your hands reaching for his silky hair as you lay on his chest.

You felt his smile. “You’re still so naïve, darling; you didn’t have to think so much. The mission was to bring you here. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out, has it not?”

SIGMA : i’ve never seen it before! (the aurora borealis) — he learns what love is through you.

“Sigma, baby, let’s go!”

The man had a slightly puzzled face as he let you eagerly lead him outside, past your home’s backyard—into the hills beyond. Other than the Sky Casino, it was your favorite spot, especially when you wanted some peace away from the rest of humanity and its industry.

Your lover was utterly confused why you made sure he did not fall asleep this evening. He always went to bed far earlier than you and rose while you were still lost in dream—perhaps snoring—but tonight you insisted.

And Sigma followed, even though he was at the verge of passing out from exhaustion—managing a casino was hard. He let you take his hand and direct him, even without a clue of where you were going.

Maybe that was what love was—blindly following another.

“I have a surprise.” You slightly turned your head back to look at him, and he swore he would remember this scene forever. His hand still clasped around yours, the warm glow of the back porch’s bistro lights cast upon your face, and your sweet smile—though it was dark outside, he felt that your smile lit up his world more than all the stars combined in the night sky.

The cosmos were a new thing for him. You had introduced watching the stars to him, in this special place beyond your backyard.

Immediately after his first time learning what the Big Dipper was, and that the little lights in the sky were actually much farther than they seemed, he called for a viewing deck to be created for the Sky Casino.

That way, even on nights away from you and home, he could still gaze at the same stars, and for you as well if you wanted to visit.

“Are we stargazing?” Sigma asked as you ran up one of the hills with him. He held a chuckle to himself. You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You were so cute.

“It’s a little different this time,” you giggled, setting down a blanket for the two of you to sit. Before, you would bring foldable chairs, but you realized that they made it a bit difficult for you to cling onto Sigma when you wanted to cuddle with him.

“We should start to see it in just a few minutes,” you said, looking up.

“Okay…”

The stars were there as usual. Sigma had never thought that something as pretty as your heart could exist in something physical, but that was how he saw those small lights in the sky.

If only you knew that whenever you decided to talk about how beautiful the skies were at night, he wanted to say they were literally just a reflection of you.

As soon as the clock on your watch hit the next hour, you immediately grabbed Sigma’s arm in enthusiasm.

Now he was really starting to wonder what got you so jumpy.

“Hey! Do you see it?!”

Sigma caught himself so distracted by you that he was watching your face instead of where your eyes were looking at.

He blushed when you looked at him, but thankfully you remained oblivious to his embarrassment.

“The green light! Do you see it?”

Sigma looked up, and he saw what looked like sliver of green contrast the dusky sky.

“That’s natural,” you began to explain. “It works through the earth’s magnetic field colliding with the atmosphere.

“Watch how it dances.”

A show started to unfold before the two of you. Sigma watched as the small touch of light became even brighter, transforming into a ribbon. He watched as the ribbon began to travel across the sky, overtaking the darkness. He watched in awe as it was joined by another green stream, traversing the horizons together.

“Wow,” you both said in awe.

“It’s called the aurora borealis,” you spoke.

“You can see it regularly if you travel way up north, but it’s a rare event here.

“I wanted to experience it with you.”

Sigma turned to look back at you, butterflies in his tummy and a surge of warmth overflowing his heart when he met your face—cheeks glowing from the reflection of the chasma and your eyes full of adoration.

“With me?” Sigma asked.

“Of course,” you replied, pulling him up. “Look Sigma—a new color joined.”

He glanced up, seeing that a new hue had appeared, aligning itself with the green. A pinkish light had mixed itself in, creating a swirl of paints on the sky’s pallete.

It really seemed like the lights were dancing. And Sigma thought to himself—like me and her.

You seemed to have the same idea because you had taken his hands in yours and started to whirl him around. It was messy—a bit chaotic, but he let himself be dragged along for a bit until he got dizzy, because maybe love was blindly following someone.

Eventually, Sigma started laughing, and couldn’t be thrown around any longer. “Calm down, love!” He took control of the dance, guiding your steps so that it turned into a more organized waltz.

He became captivated when he twirled you around—even though you were in your pajamas, you couldn’t look any less beautiful. He had danced with you in ballrooms, in gardens, but this unrehearsed night was the most enchanting of all.

…

You two danced until your feet started to hurt and Sigma’s exhaustion finally got the best of him. Now, you lay together, watching the rest of the night’s act play out.

“Whenever I look at the nebulas, I only think of you now, you know,” you confessed. “Because even if you’re up there, and I’m down on earth, we’re still looking at the same stars together.”

“I think the same,” Sigma replied. “It’s like we’re always connected in some way.”

You nodded with a smile, but you realized Sigma wasn’t finished yet.

“Actually, it’s more than that. I can only think of you when I see those things because all beauty leads back to you. I see your kindness in the sun and your energy in these colorful lights. I see your perseverance in the moon and most importantly, how many hearts you’ve made shine in the stars.

“And whatever ends up the brightest at night is mine, because you’ve warmed my heart the most.”

Your own heart was beating fast, by how your lover had spoken so tenderly to you and by the way he had rolled over towards you so that he was so close now—his lips just shy of yours.

“Sigma,” you whispered, and then you pulled him into a kiss.

It was then he finally understood: love wasn’t about blindly following another, he followed you because you were a blessing of trust, carrying the stars of devotion on your hands.

i heard if you rb, u’ll be able to watch the stars w/ ur fav tn !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

this fic wouldn’t have ever seen the light, weren’t for @cheriiyaya (hi); thank u bby for encouraging me start to finish. <3 a lil prompt inspo for dazai & fyodor from her. ^_^

p.s. did i imply a past!love triangle in dazai’s scenario? yes. was i referring to the fyozai ‘til death we do art love triangle? maybe..! actually, for some rzn, i included many things here that foreshadow other fics coming soon. stay tuned :)

© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner by cafekitsune.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

chuuya with a kitty!reader... he's sat on the bed, his back against the headboard as he waits for you. he's tired, exhausted actually, but the image of you in your teeny tiny little shorts keeps replaying in his mind. and your flimsy little tank top. your cute ears. your tail. fuuck...

he's half-hard in his boxers but he refuses to touch himself. he's hoping it'll simply go away if he ignores it long enough; you're in the bathroom washing your face while he's silently drowning in the lewd thoughts about his kitty. he doesn't want to ask, he feels just a bit embarrassed to do it – he's sure you've had one hell of a day too, sleeping and eating can oh, so tiring for a little cat like you afterall.

his head hits the wall behind him, his eyes falling shut as he fists the sheets. he just wants to go sleep; he wants to cuddle you and kiss you, and feel you against him. and feel you around him. you'd be so warm, so tight – his eyebrows furrowing with a cute, pink blush forming over the apples of his cheeks. he knows you'd make him feel so good, you always do. chuuya thinks about the fraction of a second when he caught sight of you bending over, the material of your shorts streching over your ass so deliciously. he feels like a proper pervert when his dick twitches at the thought of your soft thighs and your belly. your small hands, your skilled fingers, your sharp nails—

the bed dips and his eyes flick open, only to be met with your mischievous ones. you know. placing your hands on the mattress, you crawl toward him at a tantalizingly slow pace; your tails sways seductively behind you and your eyes twinkle with something dark, your lip caught under your canines as you settle yourself between his thighs. never breaking the eye-contact, you watch his adam's apple bob and the flush on his face spread even further. it goes down his neck and to his chest, to his shoulders and his ears. you think it's very cute, the effect you have on the port mafia excecutive.

"what's wrong, chuu, hm?" cocking your head to the side, you trace your nails over his knees, making the man shiver. your voice is sickly sweet, only making the embarrassment settle deeper in his gut as he tries to think of a way to change the topic. but your gaze is heavy and your touch burns, fingers slowly inching higher and higher over his sensitive thighs. "you can tell me... "

the pout you're giving him and the way you keep fluttering your eyelashes is not making it any easier for him, his head filling with filthy, just outright obscene scenarios and he feels awful. "it's nothing, doll. let's sleep, yeah?"

he raises his hand to caress your face and something warm pools behind his ribcage when you lean into his touch. your eyes soften just a tad and he's sure he's done it, but when he suddenly feels you cup his bulge, your nails slightly grazing the sensitive skin under his balls, he jerks forward. his eyes go wide and you think he looks even cuter now.

"what about this though, hm?" you apply some more pressure and watch the man before you crumble. ginger strands of hair fall in front of his eyes and he looks incredibly fucked out already. oh, how you want to play with him.

while keeping your ass up high, you place your elbows on the bed, knowingly pushing his buttons by showing him your perfect arch. slowly, your tail sways behind you, from left to right, and he feels as if he's being hypnotized. giving his balls another squeeze, you jut out your bottom lip. "i just want to take care of you."

chuuya's breath gets stuck in the back of his throat, his fingers wrapping around the hand that's giving so much grief. "you really don't need to, love. i– it's okay."

but his own body betrays him - the wet patch on his boxers, makes you coo at him while resting your cheek on his upper thigh. "please?"

your warm breath fans his clothed, aching cock and it's almost impossible to say no to you. how could he, when you're looking the most beautiful little thing he's ever seen in his whole entire life. and not only that, but you're also asking, basically begging to make him feel good.

"you sure?" he cards his hand through your hair, your ears twitching at the loving act – he's always been so very caring, constantly putting your needs above his own, so you figure it's time to show your appreciation.

"i want to, chuu."

leaning forward, you press your tongue against the side of his shaft, wetting the fabric with your saliva as you keep your eyes on your boyfriend.

with the combination of your hand and your warm mouth and the heavy gaze you offer him, chuuya feels lightheaded already. his free hand fists the sheet below him, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the material while his other stays in your hair. his palm rests on the back of your hair, gently pushing you closer to his bulge without him even realizing that he's doing it – he's way too far gone already. the pink on his cheeks deepens and you watch how his lips part in a silent moan and you take it as a sign that you're doing good, that you should keep going.

so after giving him a few more kitten licks, you grant him a smile, to which he responds with a twitching cock. he feels ashamed that he's so easy but he really can't help it – he can't help but let out a raspy hiss when you wrap your lips around his tip and suckle on it like it's some kind of candy. like it's your treat.

chuuya's hips buck up and he shoves you into him, so your whole face gets smushed against his bulge but it's not like you mind; you like it when he loses his control a little, you like it when he acts out of pure pleasure. it's the hottest thing in the world.

there's an apology on the tip of his tongue but it fades the moment you place a hand on top of his, telling him that he hasn't crossed any lines and that he should keep it there. chuuya gives you a small nod while swallowing, his adam's apple bobbing in the process. beads of sweat dribble down the side of his neck and you feel hungry, the itching desire creeping up your throat the more you look at him.

as you hum at the salty taste of his precum, you inch your hand a bit lower and start massaging the ever-so-sensitive spot between his balls and his hole, and you're immediately praised for doing so.

his back rises from the bed and forms an almost entirely perfect arch as a loud moan topples from his bitten lips. you think about teasing him for being so responsive but decide to hold back the thoughts just this once.

"ah– fuck!"

your tail picks up the pace, your own heart racing at the sight of him feeling good – this is what you want most, to just let him relax. to let him feel. he works so hard; all day long, and sometimes all night long and so, being the one that's able to give him the well-deserved reward he so deserves makes pride swell in your chest.

you keep rubbing small circles with your index and middle finger while sucking on his tip, the material of his boxers now completely soaked with the mixture of your drool and his precum. with the help of the guiding hand on the back of your head, you develop a steady pace at which you rock yourself into him.

he's writhing now. your mouth is so fucking warm and your fingers are working him like magic, not to mention the way you keep wiggling your ass up in the air. he can't get over how your tail moves, your excitement so evident that it's hard for him not to think about the mess he'd find between your own legs.

and then there's your eyes.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

you haven't taken them off of him once and all the attention is really getting to him. his entire body burns with pleasure and his orgasm hits him like a fucking truck. the high comes so suddenly that he has no time to give you any sort of warning, not that you needed one anyway. with your lips still around him, you take him in your mouth as much as you can and cherish the way he's giving yourself to you.

chuuya grinds his hips against your chin and bites down onto his lip so hard it almost draws blood; he's now fully red in the face and in the chest and he's panting like a dog. it's a sight you never get tired of.

you lap on all of the cum that seeps through his boxers and then wait for him to make proper eye-contact with you again, to swallow it all with a smile. he gulps before mustering up a smile of his own – tired, flustered and lovesick all at once.

his body is still tingling with the aftershocks of the orgasm when you push yourself up and crawl on top of him and plop down onto his lap. hands on his warm cheeks, you kiss him hungrily, nipping at his lips and giggling into his mouth when his fingers dig into the plush skin of your waist in surprise.

but this is enough for the night, so you pull away and watch him chase after you with his eyes still closed. you give him another grin and brush his nose with yours and then you're already nuzzling yourself into his side and wrapping your hands around his middle.

chuuya sits there with his heart trying to jump out of his chest. oh, you're something alright. he still has to clean himself up and he knows that you didn't forget that – he knows that as much as you love making him feel good, you also love to push his buttons. to tease him and to really rub in the fact that he's completely and utterly wrapped around your pretty little finger.

his head falls against the headboard with a thud and a sigh and he swears he can feel you smiling against his skin. he loves it.

[rae-writes]

Azure #1520A6 — Chuuya Nakahara

pretty rich precious man || 0.2k || m.list

As you stood in front of the door, blocking Chuuya’s way inside as he tried to come back home from a long day, he couldn’t help but squint suspiciously. 

Because you were giggling and had a sheepish smile plastered over your face. “Listen, Chu, don’t be mad, okay? It wasn’t my fault, I had to do it.” 

Oh, yeah. Definitely suspicious and on guard.

“Do…what?” He dared to ask, slowly stepping into the penthouse apartment as he carefully looked around. 

All he got was an excited squeal before he was being dragged to the living room. And in the living room, cuddled up on the floor together, were at least six dachshund puppies…no..seven. Actually, scratch that, eight. There were eight puppies. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, but they were all in a box that was falling apart in the alley, and they were hungry and it was raining so I just—“

Not even listening to your rant, Chuuya had flung off his coat and hat and flopped to the floor, hugging as many puppies to his chest as possible. 

“I love them. We’re keeping them. We’ll get them different colored collars and think of names and-“ 

You laughed, flopping yourself down on the floor too and hugging the puppies that weren’t in his arms. “Dog parents!” 

“Watch me tell Mackerel I have eight kids now.” 

“He’d have a stroke.” 

“I hope so.”

[causenessus]

in every universe. | nakahara chuuya

chuuya x gn!reader

written in 2nd person :3

"i'd give the world to her, as long as my heart's still beating, as long as she's next to me, because I like her." -> 20191009 i like her by (mac demarco)

2.7k words

notes: use of pet names sweetheart/doll (for reader) and love/darling (for chuuya), established relationship, a lot of flirting and teasing on both ends because they love each other and can handle it, chuuya cursing, chuuya being head over heels for reader, gifting giving as a love language taken to the MAX, just two people being bookworms :3 i hope you enjoy! the bookstore they go to (spoiler alert) is very much based off of a bookstore i went to while visiting my mango anon, so i dedicate this work to her <3

nakahara chuuya who never had time to read or stop to take a breath until he met you. in the sheep, even when he was first taken in, he soon began to help on food runs. once they found out about his ability, there was never a day he got to catch a true break. then joining the mafia kept him busy, and what he few things he did read were half-assed reports or those typed by someone who obviously should have been a novelist rather than a mafia lackey.

for him, there was no middle between never reading and reading something that made him want to set the paper in his hands on fire. but that didn't mean he outright hated the idea of it. he liked the idea of books and the stores and libraries that were filled with shelves of thread-bound tens or hundreds of sheets of paper from every decade of the world; some having recently found their way onto a shelf while others had been printed, placed on shelves, and traded hands for centuries. he liked the idea of the worlds each of the books contained, the different stories they all told, and the inferences and messages people would take with them after finishing a book.

once, he’d been trailing a target who'd entered a nearby bookstore to browse their selection. he'd done his own bit of wandering, mainly to fit in with the atmosphere until it became less of an act and something more genuine—a few covers would catch his eye and he’d felt tempted to pull them off the shelf and buy them right then and there before he remembered what he was here for. but that interaction had been his first experience with the allure of books; it wasn't really something he'd learned in that moment, but, more precisely, from you.

you, who would get too caught up in a book until he'd called your name for the umpteenth time, not angry, but worried about why you weren't responding to him. he'd feared you were purposely ignoring him and was unsure of what he’d done until you’d silenced his concerns with a laugh. when he'd settled onto the couch next to you after finally getting your attention, you'd climbed on top of him, pressing a kiss to his lips, "i'm not mad. i was just reading a good book, i promise."

a book had the ability to distract you that much?

"i just get lost in books sometimes—too focused on what’s happening in the world within them. that's what a good book does," you explained further, his hands trailing down to settle on your sides, pulling you close and flush against him.

he hummed, processing your words. it sounded like an interesting experience and anything you liked he was bound to like, right? the only kind of book he didn't want to read was a mystery. he had enough of that kind of shit in his everyday life when he had to figure out where the hell his rookies went off to every day–not to mention that cursed book he'd been trapped into by that detective boy from the agency several months ago.

a few days after your explanation, he was taking you out on his day off when you both passed the bookstore he'd previously found himself in on that last mission. recognizing the sign that hung on the wall above the store, his feet almost stopped as if he was feeling a pull to return back to the store before he ignored the feeling. noticing his interest in the bookstore, you’d squeezed his hand. "hey, I wanna go in there. can we?" you asked, tilting your head while pointing to the store.

he'd never been able to resist that sweet smile of yours and this is–of course–his day to spoil you, but he still can’t help but tease you a little bit first, "huh? you don't have enough books already?"

you pout, already settled on your decision as you begin tugging him towards the entrance of the store, "how rude! never say that to a bookworm. there's no such thing as having too many books."

"yeah, yeah, sorry." he rolls his eyes half heartedly, but he doesn’t put the effort to tease you above making it to the door before you do, holding it open before walking in after you.

the bookstore is worn, the small bell at the edge of the door more of a dusty bronze than a gold, showing its age. the floorboards have started to bow with how many seasons of cold and warm temperatures they’ve been through and they creak loudly, flattening back into their original flush position whenever he steps on them. there's a large dark walnut wooden ladder reaching the shelves of the store's abnormally high ceiling, looking as cliché as it gets, yet it was the first thing he noticed upon entering the store weeks ago and it’s one of his favorite touches to the store even now.

he almost protests when your fingers slip out of his as you run off to admire in awe a row of books that adorn the top of a piano, but he smiles at the look of wonder in your eyes that only grows when you turn to the left to see a staircase descending down.

"chuuya! look! they have a lower floor!" you say, straightening back up to point at the stairs, looking at him.

he's shoved his hands in his pockets, finally making it back to you after you’d run off and now he's staring you down with a look in his eyes that makes you melt and drop your arm shyly under his adoring gaze, "yeah, you just noticed, sweetheart?"

"well– not a lot of bookstores have something like this," you purse your lips, looking down at the floor, "you're acting like you've been here before."

"i have," he replies, arm coming around your shoulder to guide you to the staircase, where he knows you want to go. you look up at him in surprise as you begin descending the broad wooden planks and he shrugs, "was following someone last week and they came in here. spent like an hour walking around...they must've been a bookworm like you."

you giggle at his words, leaning closer into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw, nuzzling your nose into the side of his neck before pulling away. "well, now you're going to have to watch me wander around this bookstore. don't go too far, alright?"

"says you," he sighs, shaking his head as you run off the moment you reach the bottom of the stairs to the nearest bookshelf. while you spend a few minutes observing every spine lined up in front of you, he begins to wander around on his own, trying to find the books he'd looked at last week. there was no harm in it, right? it looked weirder if he just stood around in the middle of the store waiting for his sweet partner to be done. although, another unique touch to the bookstore was a small projector that hung from the ceiling of the basement of the bookstore. it was casting an old black and white film onto a side of a wall, where a few rows of seats had been placed for anyone wanting to sit for a moment.

but he didn't need to pretend he was here for a reason, he’d wanted to come in here just as much as you did even if he wouldn’t admit it. he soon found himself searching the shelves too, gloves trailing along the edges of several book's spines, ever so often stopping to pull one that stood out to him.

a blow against the shell of his ear makes him jump and he spins around to face you, his cheeks a little pink, "shit, you scared me, doll."

you only give him a teasing smile and laugh, your eyes flickering down to the book in his hand, "did you find something you liked?"

he turns the object around in his eyes, looking at its back as if the answer to your question was supposed to be there. the entire cover was made out of blue thread, and the gold text that had been etched into it had grabbed his attention. "i don't know, i think i just liked how it looked. what about you?"

he can see you holding your hands behind your back and at his prompt, you flash him a grin before revealing a pile of books balanced nicely on top of each other.

the large stack isn't what makes his eyes widen and lips part slightly–it's how familiar all the covers of the books look to him. "did you–?"

"you fell right into my trap, chuu," you keep teasing him and it pieces together.

you had plenty of books, and yeah you could always have more but you hadn’t wanted to come here for you. you'd noticed his slight trip up at the sight of the store, and brought him in here for him. so that he could look at books. you'd been secretly paying attention to what books he'd picked up out of the corner of your eyes. and once he'd finished talking himself out of buying a book and placed it back where he found it, you trailed behind him to pull the book right back off the shelves.

you'd snuck up on him at the end of an aisle, where there were bookshelves on all three sides of you both besides the way you'd come from. he used that to his advantage, suddenly pulling you in by the hip to press you against the bookshelf facing the opposite end of the aisle. to anyone else, he probably only looked like he was browsing the selection this shelf (unless they were unfortunate enough to look just a little bit closer, to the pair of shoes trapped between his own).

you'd exclaimed at the sudden pull, tightening your grip on the books, shuddering when you felt his breath on your neck.

"you're sly, you know that? when'd you start behaving like this?" the words went straight to your stomach where you felt a flutter, and you reached out a hand to grip the sleeve of one of his arms.

"well, i learned from you, of course," you fired back, your mouth immediately going dry at the trail of kisses he left down your neck.

"you're too cute for your own good, you know," he murmured, pulling away, leaving you a blushing mess. "are you done? should we keep going?" he asked, looking at you like nothing had happened.

"i– um– just want to buy these books and then we can leave," you fixed your clothing, trying to cool down.

he quirked a brow, "were you actually interested in those books too? in that case, let me pay–" he reached for the books in your hands but you dodged his attempt, shifting your arms to hold them out to the right.

"no, i'm buying them for you, silly!" you teased, already walking past him before he could process your words and catch you.

"[y/n]—"

"i know what you’re thinking. you didn’t want to buy them in the first place because ‘i’ll never have time to read them... what if I don't like them... blah blah blah…’ but that all changes today. starting now, i'll be taking you on reading dates at least once a month. got it?" you turned to face him on the stairs you were climbing back up and he stopped behind you, a look of surprise on his face. "you'll never know if you like them until you try, chuu."

"i–"

"good, it's settled," you winked before turning back towards the top of the stairs, walking over to the counter.

once you got there? chuuya fought with you to pay, the both of you whipping out your cards while the cashier in front of you continued to stare forward with a smile on their face as if the couple in front of them wasn't shoving at each other, cursing one another out as their arms got tangled up, grabbing at each other's wrists.

your card won in the end, and you laughed triumphantly before placing the books in his hands while he muttered something you couldn't quite catch. when you made it out the door, he'd pulled you by the waist to bring your back flush against his chest again, face pressed into your shoulder, his new books still held at his side. "thank you, doll," he whispered, face slightly muffled by your shoulder.

but you heard it still, turning to place a gentle kiss to the side of his head. "of course, love," you smiled, reaching your arm back to find his free hand, intertwining it with yours. "now, where were we going again? before we got sidetracked by the books?"

"i was going to treat you to coffee," he came back to your side as you both began to walk again.

you bobbed your head at the reminder, "ah, right! although i think you're mistaken. i was going to treat you."

he looked at you from the side, brows furrowed, "hell no. especially not after you paid for these books. you're not gonna win this time, i'll pin your feet to the ground with gravity if i have to."

"you wouldn't dare," you stuck your tongue out at him before looking forward and refusing to say anything else. and he didn't argue back, because you were right. he'd much rather wire his entire savings into your account or pay you back a hundred times over before ever even thinking about using his ability on you in such a way. "hey," you suddenly perked up again and he hummed in response, waiting for you to continue, "do you wanna read at the cafe? or just go home? don't tell me it's up to me, tell me what you want."

he sighed at how quick you were to shut down his default answer, taking a second to think through his answer. "i think i just wanna go home. don't wanna hear anyone's voice but yours."

the way he smirked at you afterward, seeing your face warm at his comment told you that he was flirting on purpose to get a rise out of you. but you also knew by this point that his compliments came from an honest place, it was just for his entertainment that he’d word them in such a way to leave you a blushing mess.

"alright then," you mumbles back, cheeks flushed, "we'll grab something and go home."

and that day off had started a routine. "reading dates" as you had called them.

you.

you.

he loved you.

he loved coming home, no matter the time, and seeing you on his couch, knees pulled to your chest where a book was nestled. he loved the way you beckoned him with a hand and a soft call of his name, carded your fingers through his hair as you changed your position, just to accommodate him, so that he could rest his head in your lap.

sometimes you seemed to read his mind and had the current book he was reading on the other side of you and would hand it to him so that he could read as well. sometimes, you simply rubbed his scalp, telling him, “just rest, darling. how was your day?”

maybe it was because he was always so busy, always on the move, always out of the house and returning home late, but he much preferred staying inside with you on his days off to going out if you didn’t want to. he liked it when you both lay against opposite sides of the couch, legs intertwined where they met in the middle, or when he was nestled between your legs, head resting on your middle as you both read in a peaceful silence. 

he liked best when neither of you even made it the couch, but woke up in each others arms, and stayed in bed the whole day. or when he woke up, an arm still slung around your front, keeping you close, but you were sat up, resting against the headboard of his bed, book in hand.

he loved you, it was that simple. it was the root of his life, his purpose for living, the feeling in which everything else could stem from.

perhaps you were a kind of book yourself, always able to take him to another world, where he could be separated from his problems and just focus on the beauty of creation and humankind. and he could do that all just by tracing the side of your face every morning.

[chiara-hotel]

What if, after Dazai died in the beast universe-instead of letting Chuuya go insane he let him know before hand. Dazai told him he was finally going to jump and instead of mourning his death he wanted him to do something good. Something that helps saving other peoples lives.

So thats when he decided to go to the ADA, alongside Oda and Akutagawa. Maybe for once in his life he could make Dazai happy in the afterlife. Living the life that Oda told him to live in the real world. To protect the one Dazai wanted to give a second chance. Maybe when he was alive he’d never admit it but he loved Dazai to death.

[chuunai]

NEED BSD MEN HEADCANONS WITH THEM EXPERIENCING BABY FEVER FOR THE FIRST TIME

like they see a baby on social media being cute or something like that and they're just like "oh....I??? want one?????"

I’ve been waiting for this one >_<

✧˚ · . BSD men with baby fever - dazai osamu, chuuya nakahara, tachihara michizou, tetcho suehiro, sigma

summary ⋆ ★ mentions of pregnancy, babies babies babies, fluff, established relationship (dating reader), SFW with implied NSFW.

Dazai Osamu:

Dazai would only get baby fever if you two had been together for a while. That he trusts you with his being and heart. He’s lost so many others in the span of a few years, he doesn’t want to lose you too. Or a baby. A family is something that’s unknown to him. The closest thing he had to one was with Ango and Odasaku, but look how that ended up.

But when that video of a baby crawling over to her mama and papa came up on his social media feed one day, something in his mind just seemed to focus on ‘baby baby baby’. At the Agency, all he could think about was his future baby. The dark curls they’d inherit, and your lips and eyes. Kunikida could smack him for all he cared, but Dazai was the one with a girlfriend. And at home, one could say it got even more embarrassing there. Online shopping carts would magically start having baby clothes in them, and a music playlist with the title of ‘lullabies for future baby dazai <3’ appeared as well.

Of course, you ask why it’s popping up. Instead of being smart and playfully brushing it off, the fever grows to a whole new degree where he gets down on his knees in front of you and begs for a baby. He just wants a family of his own. Is it so much to ask for? Someone he’ll love unconditionally and that they’ll love him back. And wouldn’t it be the ultimate gift of your love? Something that came from the both of you and your shared efforts?

By the miracle of his persuasive words (and even more persuasive cock), you had agreed. Dazai could hardly wait for night nowadays where he’d try to stuff a baby into you. His baby. A family with you. The fever isn’t giving up, and a positive pregnancy test is his only hopeful sign of recovering.

Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya gets baby fever very quick. It’s not his fault that he gets attached so early on in the relationship. You just complete him—the empty side where he questions everything. An answer to his purpose in life. You’re a goddess in his eyes, and he worships the ground you walk on. He also enjoys talking about you and showing you off. It’d be more impressive if he could show off a baby in your belly, though.

He blames it all on his subordinates. The fuckers are young—like him—and irresponsible. The Port Mafia is a soul’s last resort, and so one loses all sense of purpose and dignity. That leads to pregnancies, occasionally. The fathers are also usually part of the Mafia, and so when Chuuya saw the expecting parents walking around, he couldn’t help but think of you. Belly swollen with his seed, tits heavy with milk to nourish his child. He was a goner day one of the fever. The following weeks are discreetly spent reading articles about parenting, looking at cute videos of families and staring at your stomach a whole lot more now.

He tries to indirectly ask about your feelings on the topic when you’re both sleepily intoxicated on a Sunday. Snuggling up to you on the couch while his tired voice asks if you thought you two would be good parents. One hand rested absentmindedly on your stomach, kneading it slowly while you smiled and said yes. Of course, it didn’t mean you wanted one now or anything, but in the moment it sure seemed like you had said that you wanted his baby now.

That’s probably how you two ended up under the sheets, too drunk to remember protection as he prayed for a baby to be conceived. A pillow under your hips while his rolled against yours endlessly until his cum painted your cervix and walls white. He doesn’t pull out either, nor do you push him off. Deep down, he knows you want the same too. A mini-Nakahara.

Tachihara Michizou

He’s a mix of Dazai and Chuuya. He’ll get baby fever quickly after you start dating because he’s known you for so long. You two had been on the streets together for a while and joined the Hunting Dogs together. You’re his family, and he’s yours. It’s always been just you and him forever. Tachihara needs that security in order to even think about a baby of his own.

When he does, it’s when Atsushi randomly gave him a stroller with a baby in it. Tachihara had no clue on what to do when it started crying and Gin teased him for it, but damn did it look kinda similar to you and him. Then that pesky thought entered his mind after work as he tried to get it out. You’re both only nineteen, for Christ’s sake! And you haven’t even been dating for a year! Tachihara’s not going to ask you for one until you’re at least twenty-three together and still happy.

But lord, four years is a painful waiting time. But he knows you’re worth it. That the future baby is worth it. He’ll try and subtly to have you get baby fever too by going to parks more often where parents are fussing over their kids and he’ll make a comment about how you baby him like that and that your offspring will like him better. You don’t seem too convinced, but he’ll change that. Just like how he’s changing both of your future for the better.

His dreams consist of you and him raising a family in the peaceful countryside where no one will ever threaten you again. No crime or tragedy, just you and him. His biological family may all either be dead or hating him, but that doesn’t matter. You’re his family, and you love him.

Tetcho Suehiro

Tetcho doesn’t even know he has baby fever. All he knows is that he’s dating you—his heavenly angel. Everything in his life is good and normal. He has a job he deeply cherishes and loves, friends, and a civilian fiancée. The only thing he wishes for is to keep you happy and content with life and your relationship. A baby’s not on his mind for a while. Why would it? He’s got everything he needs.

But that one encounter with a child he saved from a criminal had him questioning it. The way it thanked him and hugged him got his fatherly side up and running. He thought it was just sweet of the kid to do so. Not that he wanted one of his own. Though his brain was different; insistent and pleading whenever he took you out on that one date and saw you help escort a lost child back to their parents. Tetcho’s a blunt honest individual, if you ask him something, he will most likely say the truth.

So when you see his adoring gaze at you, you ask him if he was okay and he just replies that he wants a baby too. One more thing to add to his life. You’re already engaged, he’s devoted to you forever more. He’ll take such good care of you and the baby. Money’s not an issue, and your relationship is stable and healthy. Isn’t it the best time for a baby?

He still doesn’t see it as baby fever when you tell him it. It’s just natural, right? Reproduction. He’d be a good father, he thinks. And he’ll tell you that until you give in and allow him to be a daddy-to-be.

Sigma

Sigma is also a goner day one. Coming from the Book has always made him feel out of place in the world. He has no mother, no father. No document of birth or a childhood He just came into being from words alone, and that makes him fascinated by you. He admires it, strangely enough. Your womb. The fact you could carry a baby just was stuck in his mind.

Your period is what first started his baby fever. When you first went through it shortly after your relationship began and he thought you were dying, you had to explain that you went through this every month unless you were pregnant. He offered to give you a baby, feeling bad for you. You of course said no, but he still has the offer up. He’s seen some pregnant patrons at the Casino, albeit rarely. Sigma wonders what you would look like carrying his baby. Letting him—a man not born quite like anyone else—do the honors of fathering your first child. Lord, he obsesses over it.

He has to sleep every night with his face buried in your stomach. When he falls asleep, he dreams of your future baby. It’s so bad for him. He needs to know he’s normal like everyone else. And nearly everybody can make a baby, right? If you really loved him, you’d let him try and make one with you too. To prove that yes, he’s human even if his origins are odd.

Sigma isn’t giving up. He’s a determined man with a goal in sight. He worked hard for everything he has in life right now, exhausting both his mind and body to the point of nearly insanity. A reward can be given to him, right? He’s heard Fyodor talk about God, and while he isn’t particularly religious himself, surely God will recognize his actions and give him a baby?

Here’s your meal everyone ! <3

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts

[soukokuforthesoul]

soukoku’s first kiss being entirely mission-related. where they’re trying to hide, but know it’s futile, so dazai turns and pulls chuuya into a kiss. they’re both clumsy and surprised (even dazai), but it gets them out of the situation, at the very least, and they finish up quickly after. then, on the way back to h.q., it’s deafeningly silent—the guards are a bit uneasy at the lack of banter, and when kouyou comes to take chuuya in for the reports, she’s instantly aware of the tension. it’d be a relief, were it not so unusual and, frankly, concerning. dazai goes to mori after being called in, and chuuya follows kouyou.

kouyou says: “is something wrong?”—right as mori inquires: “you’re quiet, what’s wrong, osamu-kun?”

somewhat simultaneously chuuya and dazai just break and—

“he kissed me!!

“i kissed chuuya!!”

and they’re both burying their faces in their hands, ears tinged red, as they wallow in embarrassment and confusion and things they don’t want to understand. after it’s all cleared up that it was completely and totally for the mission, chuuya and dazai are sent on their way, and mori goes to see kouyou with an arched eyebrow and a look that she immediately understands that he’s been told the same thing.

“i’m sure they just want to tell themselves it was for the mission,” mori muses, and kouyou nods.

“i believe so.”

[moomuzan]

a love that is fierce, unshakable, and unapologetically alive—a whirlwind that sweeps you off your feet and leaves you breathless. a love that grabs your wrist during an argument, not to hurt but to pull you closer, because walking away isn’t an option, that smells like expensive cologne and red wine, and his gloved fingers brushing your hair back, muttering, “you drive me insane, you know that?” a love that protects without smothering, defends without hesitation, and fights for you like it’s the only battle worth losing. a love that takes you dancing in the rain just because the world feels too quiet, or spends hours picking out a hat he knows will match your coat. a love that kisses hard enough to leave you dizzy, murmuring promises he’ll never break, because for him, loving you is like gravity—inescapable, inevitable, and the only thing that keeps him grounded.

—CHUUYA