#Dazai's relief Chuuya is back

[kitsquared]

Ch 109 so wild I forgot season 5 is happening

[hella1975]

[osachiyo]

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[thewickedjazzy]

Special Level: "DPーONE HOLE" for Kinktober.

♡PHASE 2: gojo & dazai x afab! reader. *nsfw audio⬇⬇*

Synopsis: sandwiched between dazai and gojo, you didn't see it coming when they proposed to share a single hole.

Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt with plot, double penetration, size kink, mild degrading kink, voyeurism, reader has a female anatomy, orgasm control, oral sex, rough sex, praise kink, mild psychological manipulation, masturbation, ovulation, pet names used: angel, sweetheart...etc.

Word count & a/n: 3.9k, okay this took me 3 days to write no joke- a special thank you and a kiss to my sweet bbg rem @remlionheart for helping me out to finalise this part, i don't know what i would've done without her xx.

READ: PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x afab! reader.

“no way... it’s not gonna fit!” you exclaim, wide-eyed as you take in the two men standing before you, both packing unbelievably huge cocks.

“oh, we’ll make it fit,” the brunet purrs with a sick smirk curling into his lips. are they serious? you nearly passed out last time when it was with geto and chuuya—and that wasn’t even in the same hole.

you shift slightly, feeling a twinge of nervous excitement as they exchange a deranged knowing look. no way they're actually about to try this—double penetration in one hole?

you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation. uh, well, you need to rewind a few hours…

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“you’re going to miss the after-party if you don’t hurry up!” suguru’s voice comes from the other side of the opulent hotel suite door. he stands there sighing and rolling his eyes as he adjusts his tailored dark grey suit that complements your dress perfectly.

“i know!” you bite back, desperately fumbling with the zipper on your dress. the more you pulled, the more it seemed determined to stick in place. well, you didn't expect less from a sleek, form-fitting black dress that falls to just above the knee with a deep v-neck and a backless design.

you huff in frustration feeling your face heat up. why was it always so much more complicated when it was your turn to shine? you could practically hear the chatter of geto and chuuya outside, and yet here you were, trapped in a battle with a stubborn zipper for the second time

the door cracks open, and geto pokes his head in with a pitiful smirk already forming. behind him stands chuuya, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. given that he’s a good head shorter, he practically has to lean up to get a look around geto's shoulder.

“need help?” geto asks, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice. classic.

“oh, totally fine! just a… minor uh..malfunction,” you lie, completely ignoring the way your hands are still locked in a losing tug-of-war with the dress. they don't need to know how close you were to waving a white flag.

geto tilts his head, obviously not convinced, but before he can offer again, a crewmember flags them down from the hallway, urgently needing both of them. geto sighs looking a bit hesitant as they’re called away, and you can hear chuuya muttering something about “never a damn break.”

“okay, but shout if you need someone to rescue you,” geto calls chucking over his shoulder as they head off.

you nod, giving an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up while praying the dress will cooperate. once they’re gone, you turn back to the mirror, wrestling with the zipper once more and muttering in frustration. just as you’re about to give up, a pair of warm hands appear on your back, gently tugging the zipper up with ease.

“thank god you’re here,” you sigh in relief, not even bothering to check who’s behind you, assuming it’s someone from wardrobe.

“i was just about to say the same thing,” comes a voice, too close, and way too amused.

you freeze...oh no, that voice!

“g-gojo!” you falter, finally twisting around to see his saccharine shitty grin.

“i... um... thanks? but i didn’t know i was getting a personal stylist??” you reply, pink hue colouring your already flustered face.

“well, I do charge by the hour.” he says, raising an eyebrow with that all-too-smug grin.

is he serious right now?

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. “yeah? i’ll make sure you work for every cent.”

“here you go! all zipped up and ready to go.” he pats your shoulders gently.

as you check yourself in the mirror, you hear gojo muttering under his breath, “now, where the hell is my bag of bandages?”

needless to say that the suicidal freak is trying to negotiate his way onto the rooftop by slipping a hotel staff member a crisp 100 yen bill. “just let me through, and I won’t mention how you’re the staff's designated crack dealer, alright?”

with that, he strides confidently down the corridor, only to collide with chuuya, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed chatting with geto with a sceptical expression on his face.

“who the hell let you back here?” the redhead barks, glaring at dazai not bothering to hide his frustration.

“uh who the hell let you wear that outfit?” the brunet retorts, taking in chuuya's ensemble, a sharp tuxedo that is a true work of art, complete with a black satin lapel that gleams in the light. beneath it lies a deep crimson shirt, and of course, no look is complete without his stylish new fedora, adding the perfect finishing touches. “did you lose a bet? now, shut up, i’m looking for someone.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

once you’re finally ready, you and the four hotties head up to the hotel rooftop for the after-party. the view of the city skyline is breathtaking, with all the lights twinkling like stars against the night sky. needless to say that the vibe up there is so lively, you can practically feel the energy bustling around you. everyone's laughing, chatting, and the clinking of glasses fills your ears with the upbeat music that makes you want to dance.

you spot some of the cast, all dressed to the nines, mingling and celebrating the movie premiere like it was the best night of their lives. it’s hard not to feel a little caught up in the excitement yourself.

as the night goes on, you’re hanging back in a quieter corner of the rooftop, drink in hand, watching gojo and dazai do their usual routine, with the white-haired freak launching into his jujutsu tales about being the “strongest sorcerer in history” to anyone who’ll lend an ear. he’s practically flexing at this point, not that anyone asked about his sorcery skills—but that doesn’t seem to stop him.

as for dazai, well, he's in his own world of smooth-talking, tossing just the right lines to make every woman he chats with laugh like he's the funniest guy in the room, nodding along to gojo’s wild stories as if he’s actually been there, backing him up with just enough charm and sly touches on the arm or shoulder to keep his female audience wrapped around his finger.

it goes without saying, that geto and chuuya are just standing there, looking like they’re about five seconds from yanking them by the collars and dragging them away.

“keep them in check,” you hear the redhead mutter to suguru, who rolls his eyes in agreement.

“hey, do you wanna get a drink?” the brunet suddenly suggests, sidling up to you with a playful glint in his eyes, and as usual, gojo is right beside him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“oh, i-i don’t think i should,” you hadn’t planned to drink tonight, especially since you were ovulating and wanted to stay clear-headed. but the glimmer of pleading in their eyes makes it hard to resist.

“oh, c’monnn! just one drink?” gojo pleads, leaning closer and brushing his fingertips on yours. “it’ll be fun.”

with a sigh, you relent, knowing they won’t let it go easily. “finnne, just one.”

oh, agreeing to this was a crucial mistake—not because you're getting drunk, but because you're literally a giggling mess, flirting right back with them more than usual. with the increase in estrogen, making your skin feel more sensitive, and you can’t help but notice how the fabric hugs your curves perfectly, leaving you feeling uncharacteristically sexy. every playful touch and cheeky comment from the two men sends your heart racing, as if it’s the first time anyone has ever admired you like this.

you finish your glass, you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, the effects of the alcohol hitting you faster than you expected. the two men's playful banter becomes way more extreme, you find their hands roaming your body in tandem, too shamelessly.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the brunet brat chuckles lowly snapping you out of your thoughts as he leans in closer until his long slender fingers slide between your slick folds, parting them as he plunges two digits deep into your sweet soaked hole. “oh, see? pretty sure it will fit,” he coos, spreading his fingers inside you just enough to draw another desperate moan from your throat. “you’re already making it easier with how wet you are.”

your back arches againts your will as your head lolls back, mouth falling open in delight. and you can clearly hear your pulse racing in your chest as he keeps his fingers inside you, curling and spreading them while keeping his gaze fixed on your pouty face.

“just relax, yeah?” dazai whispers, pressing his palm against your chest to guide you back onto the soft, white blanket, relaxing your tensed body.

to the side, gojo leans back into the leather couch across the room, his own gaze heavy-lidded with arousal as he strokes his cock in long, slow, lewd motions, eyes completely locked on the way you writhe beneath dazai's touch. the six eyes man whore is absolutely shameless, letting every inch of his thick length slide through his hand as he watches you with a smug grin spreading across his face. “fuck yeah, look at you,” his voice drops an octave.“already fucked out, and we haven’t even fucked you yet.”

your gaze flickers to gojo, watching as he tightens his grip around his deliciously lengthy cock, hand moving in slow, teasing strokes, you bite back a whimper and tugging at the brunet's sleeve as some sort of a plea. as soon as the sorcerer catches your stare, he chuckles darkly picking up the pace and rubbing his seed-soaked tip with his thumb, little blue-tinted veins running up and down his cock, a shade dangerously close to his own hungry eyes.

you should be ashamed of how much your mouth starts to water, saliva pooling and connecting the roof of your mouth to the pad of your tongue.

“getting all wet just from my fingers?… how are you gonna handle both of us?” his fingers continue their sedulous rhythm as he stretches you open, a rushing river of slickness pooling with every teasing thrust of his digits. he pulls his fingers out only to plunge them back in again, spreading them inside you, relishing in the way your walls flutter and clench around him. “It’s like you were made for us”

“dazai,” gojo calls, from across the room, “go faster, yeah? look at how desperate they are.”

without hesitation, the brunet speeds up, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy walls, soft thumb rubbing your abused clit firmly, sending shockwaves of dopamine across your brain. you can feel it build rapidly, hips rocking salaciously against his fingers, feeling the sex loaded air pressing down on your chest, as he works you closer and closer to your release. but just as you’re about to tip over, the brat pulls his fingers out, leaving you trembling and on the brink. you mentally curse him, more tears filling your eyes as you look up at him, lips wet and pouty, parted in a desperate, wordless plea.

“oh? you want us to make you come?” gojo chuckles, voice almost mocking you pathetically as he stands up and strides over to loom over you with that infuriatingly smug grin. “then kiss me,” he leans down, face so close that you can feel his minty breath ghosting over your lips.

you know better than to listen to him, but desperation consumes you as you silently mourn the loss of your neglected release, you shift, reaching up to capture his lips, loud heartbeats drowning out your hearing. but just as you’re about to press your mouth to his, you hit an invisible barrier, his infinity keeping you just millimetres from him. he chuckles darkly, watching the frustration build up in your eyes as you let out an exasperated whimper, practically aching to close the gap.

“that’s not fair!” you cry in desperation as you press harder against the invisible barrier, lips hovering so close but unable to reach him.

gojo’s sick smirk only widens. “life’s not fair, sweetheart,” he drawls sultrily, “but maybe if you let us both fuck you…” he lets the sentence hang out in the sex charged air between you both, his glances over at dazai with an amused grin.

“oh, c’mon, angel. that look in your eyes is begging for more. you know you want us to fill you until you can’t take it anymore.” the burnet's hand tilt your chin slightly so that you're facing him, his other hand still on your thighs, fingers idly trace patterns on your sensitive skin, keeping you needy like a bitch in heat.

“please,” you whisper as you try to push again though his invisible barrier but to avail, fuck it! you need to taste him to feel his sweet lips on yours, “please, i need it—i need both of you.” your voice cracking, dignity slipping as you look from one to the other, unable to resist any more teasing.

the white-haired freak hums in satisfaction, and as soon as his infinity is turned off, you find both your lips pressed together, tasting your shared breath, and oh god the taste of him makes you melt drawing out sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make. his tongue sweeps against yours, coaxing you into a messy, open-mouthed kiss that leaves you dizzy.

just as you’re sinking into him, lost in his sweet taste, dazai's firm hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a look that leaves no room for patience. his mouth is on you before you can take a breath, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging, then his tongue slides in, leaving a slick trail of spit that mixes with gojo’s. a needy groan rumbling from his throat as you part your legs even wider, inviting him to slip between your inner thighs.

dazai’s hands settle firmly on your waist, fingers digging in as he lifts you effortlessly, guiding you until you’re straddling him, pillowy thighs spread around his hips. he shifts, positioning himself so his achy tip is bumping your clit, until he reaches right between your inner folds, running the meat of his shaft along the length of your soaked pussy. you lean in to tast the faint salt of his skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. a shuddered breath escapes him as the soft warmth of your heated cunt welcomes his length, angry tip nudges into you, slipping past that tender threshold.

“oh fuck baby mngh..suck me in like that, fuck yeahh,” he growls as you sink down to drive his delicious cock into the deepest parts of your sex, inch by fucking inch, your cunt already fully lubed up with all your sweet juices. the world around you fades, leaving only the exquisite sensation of being filled by dazai’s meaty cock.

and just when you think that you're already too full of dazai, you feel gojo's strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, slowly pushing deep within you, his girth sliding alongside the brunet's and into your ruined hole, filling you to the brim in a luscious stretch.

“oh—fuhhh-ck ’toruuu, it’s too much—too much!” you gasp, voice breaking as your body struggles for a few seconds to take them both, a sweet ache blossoming within you as they thrust deeper, cunt instinctively clenching around both their cocks, as if trying to pull them in, to take them impossibly deeper.

“fuckk! you feel incredible. mmngh yeahh just a little more, sweetheart… you can take it.” the sorcerer groans against the shell of your ears while palming both of your breasts from behind, you never imagined taking one of them, leave alone both of them together, every inch of your now-stretched cunt is filled to the brink, and yet craving more, even as it borders on unbearable.

“shh, you’re doing so well,” dazai’s voice came through softly, lips brushing delicate kisses along your collarbone. “just breathe, angel… i’ve got you.” his words are meant to soothe you, but you’re too spent in that moment—utterly lost, trembling as their cocks drives you to the edge of your own universe.

obscene noises mingling together as gojo fists a hand in your hair, tugging your head back and exposing your throat for his hungry lips. his other hand presses firmly on your back, pushing you down until your belly meets the solid warmth of dazai beneath you. the brunet's arms circle your waist, holding you steady, each of them guiding your trembling body into a perfect arch, pushing you to take them fully. so that they can bottom out inside you.

“fuck shit- shit shit feels so good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you feel around him.

“see? you're taking us so well haahh you should cut out the nonsense next time mghh” saturo lets out a throaty hybrid noise, a lewd mix between an amused laugh and a deep moan.

incoherent curses slipping past your wet lips as saturo prods and pinches the sensitive skin around your nipples. it's too much, the pleasure is too much, the pain is too much, the lewd squelch of your sexes as they slip in and out of you, feeling your orgasm build up again.

“mmuph yes please fuuuck don't stop ’m clos-e” your pleading whimpers betray you, just like your body does filled with hormonal lust pooling right into your core.

“fuck oh fu-ck keep squeezing me like that- ah” “hngh yes angel cum all over our cocks”

their voices blur together, indistinguishable as they both sound the same, each word flows into the next. and all you hear is the wet plap plap plap of their balls slapping against your sensitive skin.

you bounce back on their hardened lengths, finally riding out your sweet release. both men moan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression—eyes rolling back, tongue slipping from your mouth as drool and tears streak down your mascara-smudged cheeks, oh, such a beautiful sight to see, body flushed and trembling with sweat trickling down the valley of your breasts.

they’ve ruined you quite literally and turned you into thisーa wrecked mess, quivering each time their thick lengths press against every sensitive spot. with broken cries spilling from your bruised lips, they angle their hips just right, hitting your g-spot over and over.

as their hands glide down to press against the bulge in your lower belly, a wave of intense pleasure unfurls through you, stealing your breath and lighting up every nerve in a blinding crescendo. your vision blurs, flashes of light dancing behind your eyelids as if a galaxy has burst open within you, stars scattering and colliding in the depth of your being.

your juices gush against gojo's firm thighs and dazai's abdomen, soaking them in a glistening sheen under the low hotel lighting. both of them follow suit feeling how your walls flutter and tighten around them so perfectly, two loads of thick, hot cum paint your insides pearly white—the milky liquid reaching deep to your womb, though some of it inevitably leaks out, trickling down from your velvet walls.

once they pull out, they gently place you on the feathery pillows, but not before glancing one last time at your absolutely wrecked and dripping pussy, dripping with their mixed essence. they settle beside you, both of them relaxing into the plush bedding, they take deep breathes trying to calm down from their own high as they cast affectionate glances your way, ensuring you're comfortable and cared for after such an intense release.

“hey, are you okay, baby?” gojo is the first to ask, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face, “did we go too far?”

then dazai leans closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “you did well, angel, but we want to make sure you’re feeling good. do you need some water or anything?”

“just... hold me for a bit.”

you never would have guessed they could be this gentle, let alone attentive. you’d always imagined this would be wild and chaotic, maybe even a bit reckless, but here they were, treating you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“of course, angel,” dazai replies softly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to his heaving chest. “we’ve got you.”

gojo follows, chuckling softly as his fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin. “if you need anything else, baby, just say it. we’re here to take care of you.”

you close your eyes, nestled between them, you never thought that you'd feel this safe and cared for as they whisper sweet nothings, ensuring you know just how much you’re adored.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelove @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock @vernasce-blogs @v1rtualdr3am5 @akyria-shyn @dazaistn @meowpmzai @ilikematcha

[dietcokegirly12]

“Can You Take Both of Us?”

featuring soukoku ✧˖✟°౨ৎ .⊹♱ ݁ ˖

🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——— 🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——— 🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——— 🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——

art credits to pinterest and original artists

🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——— 🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——— 🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——— 🂾 ☠︎ ❦ ——

a couple people requested a pt. 2 so here it is! ≽^˃̶͈ 𐃷 ˂̶͈^≼ (pt.1)

this is genuinely so filthy i m so sorry

tags: threesome, double penetration, anal, unprotected sex, dry humping, squirting, voyeurism (they get caught), premature ejaculation, etc etc.

word count: 1.5k

· · ───⋅ ‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘˚‧ ⋅─── · · ˚꒰🍷꒱༘˚‧ ⋅─── · · ˚꒰🍷

Dazai surges forward to press you into the table. "The question is, can you take both of us?"

Your breath hitches at the question, legs instinctively spreading as your mouth dries at the absolutely lewd sight of the two impressive bulges of the men standing before you.

"I-"

"Of course she can, right darling?" Chuuya adjusts you, while simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his pants, the clinking of his belt making you shudder in anticipation.

"Look at her, she's already desperate for more," Dazai coos, hand caressing your cheek gently, as he presses himself against you.

You moan as you feel Dazai's length prodding into you, unconsciously grinding himself in slow, leisurely strokes.

Chuuya sighs as he frees himself from his pants, immediately gripping his thick, angry cock to pump it slowly, head falling back with relief at the friction.

Dazai smirks, his grinding increasing as he watches, heavy cock dragging along you, and causing arousal to seep out of you in rivulets, so much of it that it begins to run down your thighs and pool between your legs.

You tremble slightly. "I-I don't know..."

But before you can protest further, Dazai pushes you back against the bar table, and spreads your thighs further to reveal just how embarrassingly wet you already were for them.

"Mmm, I think you can.." He teasingly runs a finger along your slick folds, making you instantly shudder and try to shy away, clamping your legs together tightly.

But this proves to be no match however for Chuuya's strength, as in one fluid motion he grips you by the hips and hauls you upward, into his arms before lying back across the bar table, you on top of him.

"Dazai.." he grunts, already beginning to line up his cock to your entrance, gliding it along you gently.

"Yeah, yeah.." Dazai's front presses against your back, and you feel him begin to unbuckle his pants as well, from behind.

This was all happening so fast, you hardly have time to process what they're planning to do to you, before Chuuya is pushing himself deep into your snug walls, and all your thoughts are immediately forgotten.

"Fuuuuck.. y'er taking me so.. hah.. well." His eyes squeeze shut, grip on your hips tightening, as you sit atop him, his cock slowly sinking into you, inch by inch.

You shift, a soft, saccharine moan floating out of your mouth, as you arch up, his thick cock bullying into you so meanly.

Gently, he bounces you atop him, your walls stretching around him as more cries of pleasure leave your mouth.

"Chuuyaaa.." You hear a whiny voice from behind as Dazai pulls your ass into him further. "You're hogging her.."

Chuuya's eyes squeeze shut, whether from irritation or restraint, you can't tell. "Well, then hurry up."

Eagerly, you feel Dazai's narrow, long cock rubbing against your bare ass, gentle, bandaged hands smoothing over you.

With nimble fingers, he reaches around to your front, to toy with your pulsing clit, soaking his fingers in your slick.

You moan, as Chuuya's dick twitches inside you faintly, Dazai pumping his cock a few times with it as lube, and smearing it over you too, for good measure.

"Hnngh.. m'gonna.. hah.. put it in now, mmkay?"

Gently, Dazai's hands push you further onto Chuuya, lifting your ass higher in the air as he traces over your hole teasingly, before plunging himself in.

You're now sandwiched between the two, you on top of Chuuya and Dazai behind, hands gently kneading the fat of your ass as he fits himself in all the way.

You're practically shaking at this point, the feeling of both their cocks throbbing in sync almost too much for you to bear. The fullness of them inside you is slightly uncomfortable, but mostly arousing, as you feel yourself stretched obscenely around them to accommodate both of their sizes.

Chuuya is thick, thicker than anybody you've ever been with, and while Dazai is nowhere near as thick, he's long, so long that you swear you can feel his tip brushing Chuuya's, though that was physically impossible.

"Filthy girl, you love being filled in both holes like a little slut, hm?"

"Fuck.. 'chu... 'samu..!" You don't know which of their names to say as Chuuya begins to bounce you again, Dazai thrusting into you from behind, your breasts jiggling and whole body moving with their combined force.

You can barely hold yourself upright as they quickly start to build speed, both of them grunting, and thrusting perfectly in sync with each other.

"Chuuya.." Dazai practically moans out. "Wanna bet she screams my name when she cums?"

Chuuya's thrusts turn particularly rough as he scowls, tone slightly breathier than usual while beginning to bounce you faster. "You shithead. Why does everything have to be a.. ah.. competition with you?"

Dazai smirks, pulling your ass back into him faster, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air. "What? Scared you're gonna lose?"

"You.. fuck! You're gonna lose, Dazai." That being his only warning, he begins to slam your hips up and down on his cock, a bulge in your tummy disappearing and reappearing with every harsh thrust, as Dazai also speeds up, until you're ping-ponging back and forth between their bodies helplessly, being fucked straight out of oblivion, mind fuzzy and focused only on the two men pressed against you.

Dazai expertly reaches one hand around your waist to rub your puffy nub, earning a small moan from you as your head falls back onto his shoulder.

Chuuya, not wanting to be left out, reaches a hand up to squeeze tightly around your breast, leaning forward enough to take it into his mouth, tongue swirling over your sensitive nipple.

Your eyes are practically rolling back at this point, unsure of how much more you can take as the two men ruthlessly brand you as theirs.

"Bet you cum first, 'chuu.." Dazai grins smugly, all the while still pulling you back into him, cock disappearing in and out rapidly.

Chuuya, underneath you, does look to be struggling a bit, eyes half-open and small grunts coming out as he continues to move your hips to ride him, jaw clenching at his words. "Asshole, 'm not cumming first until you do.."

Eager to prove a point, Dazai's hand moves from where it had been toying with your pulsing clit, to lazily tighten around the base of Chuuya's cock, pumping in sync with his thrusts, one nimble finger tracing a prominent vein on the underside of him.

"Fuck..! Don't...!" Chuuya's voice comes out desperate as his hand reaches to pull Dazai's away, but it's too late, his hips already stuttering as he fills you with spurt after spurt of hot, white cum, shuddering as his head tilts back.

And you can't do anything but pathetically whine and take it, body shaking.

"Ngh.. 'samu... fuck... 'chu... 'chu.... Chuuya..!"

And then you're cumming, mind going blank as white-hot pleasure crashes over you, hard enough to make your toes curl and back arch upward as pathetic whines and moans leave you.

It's not until you open your eyes to see the two men staring at you, slack-jawed and the glistening sheen covering Chuuya's lower abdominals, that you realize you had squirted so sluttily all over them in your pleasure-filled haze.

At the sight, Dazai tips over the edge, spilling deep inside you, both their cocks throbbing in unison, as thick liquid steadily oozes out and stains the bar table underneath you.

As you all come down from your highs, all three of your bodies are sticky and sweaty against each other, but you can't bring yourself to pull away, feeling so warm and snug nestled between them.

"Well, what's Chuuya's reward?" Dazai's eyes glint mischievously.

You tilt your head. "Reward?"

"Since you said his name when you came, what does he get for winning the bet we made?"

Your eyes suddenly flash with an idea as you slide a glance over at him. "I know, c'mere 'chuu, and gimme a kiss."

Chuuya, still panting and out of it, lifts his head, before leaning his head forward, eyes closing instinctively.

You lean away though, and grin to Dazai whose hand comes to cup Chuuya's cheek, bending forward over your shoulder to eagerly connect his lips to Chuuya's, who instantly squirms with pleasure, eyes fluttering as Dazai's tongue comes to poke out, the kiss turning sloppy and messy, not realizing that it wasn't you who was kissing him.

As his eyes slightly flutter open in bliss, however and he's met with Dazai's brown, shaggy hair fanning around him, he gasps, but before he can push back, Dazai's on him, the kiss becoming more desperate and erratic in a hot, slobbery make-out.

Now, you're crushed between them as Dazai frantically kisses Chuuya, Chuuya's body arching up as Dazai grinds against you in slow, steady strokes, already hard and aching again.

And it's just then that the bar doors swing open, none other than Mori, the boss of all three of you, walking in.

"What the fuck are you three doing?"

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @rosebluuod @bokukenmakuroo

jfkskskam can y'all pls tell me if you want to be added to my regular tags bc I don't want to annoy anybody (っ- ‸ - ς)

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 AND WHEN I'M BACK IN YOKOHAMA

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with the team sent to escort you back to the port mafia headquarters obliterated, you're on your own in a war-torn yokohama. or, well, you are until mori sends out the infamous double black to retrieve you... you almost wish he would've let you suffer out there alone.

wordcount: 10k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, mentions of mafia business

AUTHOR'S NOTES: at last, we get the first meeting between pm!reader & double black. keep your eye out for two other cameos in this fic ;) i can't remember if dazai and chuuya got their moniker before or during the dragon's head conflict and i dont feel like going to go figure it out so for the sake of my sanity, their little duo started rising in infamy just before the conflict broke out.

“Oh, this is the worst,” you complain quietly, arms wrapped around your waist as you look up and down the abandoned street.

The city looks nothing short of apocalyptic with dead bodies littering the ground and buildings caved in. You can’t help but want to blow up at Mori for calling you back to Yokohama with all of this happening. The “elite squad” he had sent to ensure you arrived at the Port Mafia base safely had been all but decimated by an ability user with a penchant for arson—you only survived by the skin of your teeth, running as fast as you could down vaguely familiar alleys until you finally lost him. 

You pull out your phone, trying to see if you can call Mori but only fall further into despair when you find that you have no cell service and your phone is nearly dead.

Tucking your phone back in your pocket, you let out a shaky breath as you begin to make your way down the street again, trying to figure out where exactly you are so you can get to the base as soon as possible. It’s only a matter of time before that pyromaniac finds you and your ability isn’t exactly built for self-defense or combat—you’re not sure if you can get yours activated before you’re roasted to death by the man.

You swallow thickly, anxiety beginning to spread through you as you make your way through rubble down the street. What happened? It’s all too reminiscent of that day eight years ago when Mori found you, the death and destruction as far as the eye could see—it drags up emotions you’ve long since repressed and now is not the time for it.

You’d been unable to get answers out of Mori’s men before the ability user attacked your convoy, but it seems as if the city has become a warzone—but over what? How hasn’t it reached the news outlets yet? And who are the combatants? Obviously, the Port Mafia is one of them, and you can guess that Mori called you back to Yokohama because the war isn’t falling in their favor, but who the hell is strong enough to compete with the Port Mafia, and why? 

You sigh, kicking absently at a small rock as you continue down the street. 

You should have been briefed. You don’t know why you weren’t briefed before being called back to the city. Frustrated, you turn down a somewhat familiar alley and lean against the wall, resting your head back against the bricks. You need to figure out what’s going on, but more importantly, you need to figure out where the hell you are so you can get back into safe territory.

You peek your head out to peer around the road—not a soul in sight in the streets, but… your gaze flickers up to the buildings, sliding from window to window until you catch sight of a figure peeking from between the blinds down to where you’re standing in the alleyway. Instantly, they let the blinds fall shut and throw themselves back indoors, but it’s too late—you’ve already spotted them.

You let out a breath of relief, looking both ways to make sure the fire manipulator hasn’t caught up to you yet before darting across the street to the building. It’s an apartment complex—the door leading into it has been half knocked off its hinges, so it’s easy to push it open and step inside.

The whole hallway has been ravaged, doors on the lower floors kicked in to reveal trashed rooms. You have to be careful not to step on glass as you make your way to the stairwell, Third floor, fifth window from the right. Most of the doors on the third floor aren’t quite as done in as the ones on the first, but only one has light peeking out from the crack.

You exhale, letting your eyes slide shut briefly before you raise your fist to knock on the door. “Excuse me! Would you mind answering a few questions? … I just arrived in the area, got caught in the crossfire of some battle, I would really appreciate the help, if you can spare any.” You’re careful to keep your voice light, gentle, and you’re even more careful to make sure your expression is smooth and unassuming when you hear the lock click open.

“You picked a god-awful time to come to Yokohama, child.” You hear an older woman speaking on the other side of the door; she doesn’t open it yet, but now that it’s cracked, you think your ability will work quickly to make her at ease. “Not one of ‘em Strain decoys, are you?” 

The fact that you have no idea what she means by that is infuriating, a reminder that Mori didn’t even bother to warn you about anything before dragging you back here, but you don’t let your frustration seep onto your face.

Strain… Strain… That Australian organization? What the hell are they doing in Yokohama? Why have you been kept so in the dark?

“No ma’am, unfortunately, I don’t even know what you mean by that,” you admit, and when you hear the woman let out a heavy sigh, you know that you’ve won, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as she opens the door to let you in. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

The woman only grumbles, but her eyes are gentle and her wrinkled face is soft as she ushers you into the room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. She’s not alone in the apartment, you notice—there’s a teen boy around your age lingering in the hallway, blonde hair cut short and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose as he studies you with a frown. 

“What are you doing out here on your own, girl?” the elderly woman asks as she wobbles after you into the main room of the apartment, ushering you to sit down. “Doppo, go get the poor girl some water. Stop acting like a lump, boy.”

The boy looks disgruntled but nods, scampering off into the kitchen as the woman turns her attention back toward you. “Well? Don’t you know? Yokohama’s no place for tourists lately. Where are your parents?”

Your smile falters, mind racing as you try to pick your words carefully. “My father is the one who told me to come back to the city. I was… not made aware of the circumstances I would be arriving in.”

“Men,” the elderly woman spits out, looking up as the boy, Doppo, returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you and one to the woman. “Take notes, boy, you better not end up like one of those useless wastes of air or I’ll put you down myself, understand?” 

“Yes, granny,” the boy replies, and though he still looks distinctly aggrieved, you can’t help but feel amused by the fact that he immediately pulls out a notebook to take notes.

“Would you mind telling me what exactly… happened to the city?” you ask after a moment, taking a sip of the cool water and trying to make yourself a bit more comfortable on the sofa. “I haven’t seen anything on the news about this.”

The woman scoffs, waving her hand. “Of course not, big whigs think that they can keep it all on the low and get it under control before the incident makes it across seas,” she says roughly. “Gang wars broke out after some bastard with a lot of money died. Came in from all over to try to get their hands on the money. Whole city’s being torn apart.”

Interesting, you think to yourself, mind racing as you put together the few puzzle pieces you’ve been given. How many factions are already here? Who are they? Why did Mori call you back here if it’s already escalated this much? Your ability might be key in intel gathering and negotiations, but you’d be useless in combat.

“Our ward is under the control of some organization called the Strain,” the boy tells you. “They’ve been targeting civilians. They-”

Doppo grimaces and looks away, an angry expression crossing his face and you watch as the elderly woman reaches out to squeeze his forearm before looking back over to you. “Boy’s mother was killed by them the night the conflict broke out. I’ve been looking after him since.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say quietly, but he only averts his gaze from you, looking down at the ground. 

Strain. You were right. You’ve heard a lot of them. They originated in the Australian underground, but they spread rapidly throughout the world—footholds in every major country, stakes in every major world event. Brutal and ambitious, you suppose you’re not surprised they came here if there’s as much money up for grabs as the woman assumes. 

“What ward are you trying to get to, girl?” the woman asks you. “It’s not safe out there on your own. There are no rules or laws anymore, whole city is anarchic. You go out there on your own and you’ll be picked off by Strain.”

“I need to get to my father,” you tell her as you shake your head. The Port Mafia must be in an especially precarious position if Mori is bringing you back after the conflict has escalated this much—your heart rate spikes as worst-case scenarios start to fly through your head, wondering if they’ve been backed into a corner, forced into a position where their only option is negotiations for surrender. Logically, you know Mori would never let that happen, but it doesn’t quell the rising fear. “He’s in Naka-ku.”

You just need to know what ward you’re in and-

“You’re in Kanagawa-ku right now, you’ll never make it through it and Nishi-ku—and Naka-ku is the heart of the conflict,” the woman says as she clicks her tongue. “Stay here. You’ll be safer.”

“I need to get to my father,” you repeat again, “but thank you, really, for the offer and concern… and for helping me figure out what’s going on. I appreciate it.”

You rise to your feet to leave, and instantly, the boy is on his feet, nearly knocking over the woman’s cup of water and promptly getting whacked with a rag in response. The boy winces but takes a few steps toward you, undeterred. 

“You can’t go out there,” he says, green eyes pleading for you to listen. “Just stay. Once everything’s calmed down, we can help you find your father.”

“I can’t stay,” you say quietly, wondering if Doppo’s desperation for you to stay is a result of your ability messing with his head or if he really does just have that big of a heart. You think as a thank you for their help, that you’ll ensure that Yokohama will become Strain’s grave.

The old woman makes another disparaging comment about ungrateful fathers before nodding at you. “Good luck, girl, be careful out there.”

You make it approximately seven blocks before the ability user that you thought you lost catches up to you. You think that if you die here, you’re going to spend the entire rest of Mori’s life terrorizing him as a ghost. You grimace as a wave of flames sweeps above you, you can feel the heat against the top of your head from where you’re using an abandoned car to shield you from the man, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he gets to you.

Shit, you sigh, eyes flitting around the street trying to figure out if there’s anywhere you can dart to, but the only other rubble you could hide behind is a tipped-over dumpster in an alley twenty yards away—you’ll never make it that far without something to shield you from the flames. 

You blame Mori. Again. He should’ve warned you about what you’re walking into, and he should’ve sent more than just a group of second-rate losers to pick you up from the station knowing how bad the city is. Now, you’re going to get roasted alive by some psychotic pyromaniac when you should be back in Kyoto dealing with the more pleasant parts of business—wining and dining elites to strike deals and expand the Mafia’s influence throughout all of the societal spheres of Japan.

You grimace as you steady your gun in front of you, using the broken side-view mirror of the car you’re hiding behind to try to figure out where the ability user is because if you can get one good shot off you’d at least have enough time to make a break for it. You just need to focus—the Colonel didn’t put you through all of that firearms training just for you to choke up when you actually need to use it.

Your gaze tracks the man as soon as he comes within view of the mirror. You breathe in and out steadily—once, twice, three times. He’s fumbling with a walkie-talkie, distracted, and you don’t hesitate before taking the given chance. You twist into a kneeling position to face where he’s standing, raising both arms as you aim the gun in his direction; he catches your movement from the corner of his eye, expression shifting into one of anger, but you fire off three bullets before he can retaliate.

Or so you thought.

Your lips part in shock as the man whips a fireball in your direction before he hits the ground—even if you do evade it in time, it’s stronger than the rest he’s been throwing at you, it’ll blow right through the car you’re using as a barrier.

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to take a step back but your ankle catches on a stray piece of rubble. You hit the ground hard, pain shooting up your leg and as you brace yourself for the flames, you squeeze your eyes shut.

But the agony of burning to death never comes.

Your eyes fly back open when you see someone standing between you and the fireball, the flames fizzling out and dying before they can touch him. They disappear, unable to get past him to you, and your eyes widen in shock. Who on earth… He looks over his shoulder at you, dark-hair flopping in his visible eye—he’s pretty, you think absently, even if a quarter of his face is covered in bandages. You blame your thoughts on the fact that you’re still a bit stunned and confused. 

Then he opens his mouth.

“You must be the precious cargo,” he grins. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“Cargo?” You gape, offended. “Did you just call me cargo?”

“Precious cargo,” he corrects, eye turning up in amusement before he focuses his attention back to the ability user who had attacked you. “Go handle that, pipsqueak. Make yourself useful for once.”

“Shut your damn mouth, bastard,” another male voice spits from behind you, voice riddled with irritation and anger. 

You look behind you to see another boy around your age with orange hair and mismatched eyes. He’s dressed more casually than the dark-haired boy, who’s wearing a black suit and tie beneath his long coat. He barely spares you a look as he steps forward, and you watch as his entire body glows red before he flies forward so fast that your eyes can’t even keep up with him. 

The gravity manipulator. You’ve heard of him through Kouyou—not much, but enough to know he’s probably the strongest ability users to exist in the eastern hemisphere. Does that mean…

The dark-haired boy turns his attention to you, smile widening as he leans over you. He looks unbearably amused at your predicament, and you find yourself growing more and more incensed by the second. 

“Dazai Osamu,” he greets. “You got a name, precious cargo?” 

Oh.

You recognize the name instantly, eyes narrowing, and as if he can sense your sudden change in demeanor, his smile starts to fall. Dazai Osamu. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. Mori brought him in two years ago, if the rumors you’ve heard hold any truth to them—after he sent you away to Kyoto with Kitada Usurai, one of the previous boss’s executives. 

You always wondered if the reason Mori never brought you back had something to do with his new protege—whether it was because he didn’t need you in Yokohama anymore now that he had “the Demon Prodigy” to be his heir or it was because he just didn’t want the two of you interacting. You never really minded; you like being in Kyoto and you like not having to be at the heart of every gang conflict that takes place in Yokohama but you can’t help the bitterness that rises now that your eyes have settled on the boy that took your place.

Before you can answer him, Dazai abruptly goes careening over to the left, hitting the ground hard. The orange-haired boy is standing where he once was, leg extended, and you realize that he must’ve kicked him away. 

“Stay there and die, won’t you?” he snaps, and you glance behind him, trying to figure out if he had already taken care of the ability user that had been hunting you down. Your lips part when you see him crumpled in a pile of rubble, unmoving. “Nakahara Chuuya. You can call me Chuuya. You hurt?” 

He extends his hand to you, and you take it gratefully, giving him your name and letting him help you to your feet. You stumble a bit, your left ankle buckling under your weight, and Chuuya wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. 

How embarrassing, you think, thanking him quietly before easing his arm away, standing on your own even with the pain in your ankle, not wanting to come across as weak. You make your way over to where the ability user is crumpled on the ground, kneeling in the rubble next to him. You lift your fingers to his neck to see if he’s still hanging on, but there’s no pulse.

You click your tongue, having been hoping you’d be able to take him back to the base for questioning, but instead, you let your fingers drift to the symbol embroidered on his jacket and then to the two bars embroidered onto his bicep.

Strain. 

The old lady and her grandson hadn’t been lying.

“You recognize the symbol?” Chuuya asks, wandering over to stand next to where you’re kneeling on the ground.

You frown instantly. “You don’t?” you ask dubiously, eyes narrowing again as Chuuya bristles at your comment.

“The conflict only just started a few days ago,” he says defensively. “We don’t have intel on all of the organizations that have showed up in the city. There are dozens of them. We’ve been more focused on trying to keep the civilians out of the crossfires at this point.”

A mighty fine job they’ve been doing at that, you think sarcastically, mind drawing back to the boy and old woman that helped you earlier and all of the destroyed buildings. You keep the thought to yourself, not too keen on antagonizing one of the people sent to get you out of this hellhole. 

“That’s why he brought me back here then,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else, rolling your eyes as you grab the ability user’s walkie-talkie and rise to your feet. “He’s a member of Strain—one of their lower-ranked ability users, if the lines on his coat are accurate. From what I’ve gathered, they control Kanagawa-ku and Nishi-ku. We should get out of the open before their stronger ability users show up.”

“I can take them,” Chuuya says confidently, looking unperturbed by your comment.

“I’m sure you can,” you say dryly, “but how skilled are you at using nonlethal force against strong opponents?”

Chuuya only squints at you, which is as much of an answer as you need.

“If we want actual, useful intel, we’ll have to capture one of their higher-ranked ability users alive. I can get the information out of them, I just need the opportunity to use my ability.” You rise back to your feet, gaze shifting around the street to try to figure out where you should hide out for the night. “Plus, night is falling, and rumor has it, Strain has an ability user that’s particularly adept with umbrakinetic abilities and I would rather not run into him. I am already tired and wounded, and I don’t know how your gravity would interact with an element unaffected by gravitational forces so we can’t rely on your brute force.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have attitude?” Chuuya scowls, disgruntled by your blunt commentary, and you roll your eyes.

“No, actually,” you say, giving him a thin smile. “In fact, I’ve been told I’m quite pleasant. I’m just in a bad mood because I didn’t realize Mori would be having me return to a warzone when he called me back to Yokohama. I would’ve appreciated a bit of a head’s up.”

Your gaze drifts back to Dazai as you speak, curious, but the boy is already looking at you, a frown on his lips and visible eye sharp. As soon as he notices that you caught him staring, his face smoothes out and he cocks his head to the side, questioning, eye too black and too empty.

Your gaze slides away from him onto what seems like another residential building behind him.

“We’ll stay there for the night.”

You wake up with a pain in your back and a headache. The fact that your ankle doesn’t hurt as badly is only a minimal consolation as you push yourself into a sitting position and rub your forehead, disoriented and confused, trying to remember where you are and why you’re sleeping on a rickety bed.

Your gaze catches sight of a head of orange hair lying in the opposite direction of you, pillow at the foot of the bed and curled close to the edge of the mattress as if trying to stay as far away as possible from you.

That’s right. You’re back in Yokohama. Mori called you back to help with this conflict. Sent the gravity manipulator and the Demon Prodigy after you to make sure you got back to the base. Your eyes linger on Nakahara Chuuya for a moment, watching the way his chest rises and falls, soft puffs of air escaping his lips—he’s fast asleep, dead to the world. So, you let your gaze drift across the room; it’s dark, no lights on in fear of drawing unwanted attention from Strain scouts if they see any sign of life in one of the abandoned buildings. You can only hardly catch sight of Dazai Osamu sitting near a cracked open window, one knee tucked to his chest while the other hangs loosely at his side as he looks outside and smokes a cigarette.

There’s an indecipherable expression on his face—a heavy look in his eyes and a downturn curve to his lips. You watch him curiously for a moment. 

You’ve heard a lot about Dazai Osamu’s feats while stationed in Kyoto: ruthless, terrifyingly intelligent, willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. It took only a year of him being a member of the Mafia for him to be given control of Mori’s personal covert ops unit, and he’s been producing staggering results since. He’s the one who takes charge of eliminating organizations that you deem unworthy of associating with the Mafia but too problematic to keep around, the one who’s been opening up new distribution and trade channels for you to make use of in negotiations and acquisitions.

You suppose you’ve been working closely with him for a while now, even if the two of you have never interacted until now.

Still, the rumors that have spread about the boy are nothing to scoff at. The head of the Mafia’s interrogation unit—they say no one lasts more than five minutes in the same room with him before cracking. You’ve heard through the grapevine that the lower-ranked mafiosos are more terrified of him than any of the executives—see him as heartless and calculating, willing to sacrifice any one of them if it means furthering the Mafia’s interests. He only views people as tools, there’s no room in his black heart for meaningful relationships. No one trusts him and the longer he works for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he becomes, even in the eyes of others entrenched in the dark—people keep far out of reach of him unless they have a death wish.

You study him carefully from where you’re sitting; he still hangs his jacket over his shoulders, like some sort of barrier from the rest of the world. His expression now is a far cry from the smile that had been on his face when you first saw him; his eye black and eerily still as he stares out the window, void of the gleam that had been in it before he noticed your reaction to his name.

You slide out of bed as quietly as you can, making your way over to where he’s sitting—he doesn’t even notice your approach until he catches sight of your reflection in the window, but even then, he doesn’t turn to look at you, only tracking you through the glass until you come to sit on the windowsill across from him. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“You shouldn’t sit at the window,” you finally say. “Someone could spot you.”

His eye is so black right now; you almost feel uncomfortable beneath his stare but you only raise your eyebrows. His gaze pointedly trails down to where you’d joined him and the corner of your lip quirks up.

“Fair enough,” you say and then hold your hand out, silently requesting for him to pass the cigarette over to you. Dazai stares at your hand for a moment and just when you’re about to draw your hand back, he finally reaches out to let you take it from him. Your fingers brush his as you take it between your index and middle fingers, the contact causing a spark to run up your forearm. You lift the cigarette to your lips and take a long drag, tilting your head back against the wall before you tell him, “You should go get some rest. I’ll take watch the next few hours.”

“Not tired,” he replies after a few seconds of silence. His voice is just as cold as the expression on his face, no hint of the playfulness from earlier in the day.

You hum, trying to decide what to say because he’s clearly unhappy and you have a feeling it has to do with how you reacted to hearing his name earlier, so you decide to be upfront, not in the mood for word games. 

“I think you’re unhappy with me because of how I reacted to hearing your name,” you say, laying out the issue. His gaze snaps up to you, sharp and narrowed, lips parting to deny the allegation but you don’t let him. “I was only surprised. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I have a bad opinion of you.”

“No?” Dazai asks, a sardonic lilt to his voice, goading more than anything else but you don’t fall for the trap. 

With your legs brushing, you can’t feel the familiar warmth of your ability circling through you and emanating around you, everything feels cold and empty instead, as if a part of you was sucked into a vacuum in space—the rumors must be true about him being a nullifier. You’ve never had to interact with people without your ability as a fail safe, it’s constantly active despite trying to learn how to turn it off. It’s useful though, it ensures that even if you mess up, the people around you are comfortable enough and amiable enough to not notice. They trust you without you even needing to do anything, adore you just because of the pleasant feelings your ability induces in them.

This is… different. 

And you don’t think in a bad way. You’ve always wondered what it would be like to interact with people without your ability interfering, it’s why you tried so hard to figure out if you could turn it off. And… it's nice talking to someone who’s not automatically endeared to you by your ability, who you can have normal conversation with without having to wonder if they’re only talking to you because you’re messing with their minds. Even nicer than you used to imagine.

“No,” you confirm. “I’m curious about you.”

The corners of Dazai’s lips turn down even more, brows furrowing at the comment. “Why?”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“A monster,” you say the word absently, watching as Dazai goes rigid at it, staring you down. “A demon. It’s what everyone calls you, at least.” 

“... and what makes you think I’m not one?” he finally asks, jaw tight.

Your lips curl into an easy smile again. “If you were a monster, you wouldn’t have been so bothered by the idea of me not liking you. The desire to be liked is an exceedingly human trait.”

Even under the dim moonlight, you can see the way Dazai’s cheeks burn a rosy color at your words. He suddenly looks years younger as he fumbles for words, gaze averting from you back to the window, but his reflection betrays him. 

“I was not bothered by the idea of you not liking me,” he protests, defensiveness creeping into his tone as he snatches his cigarette right back from your hand as if to make a point, giving you a glare from the corner of his eye. “I was not.”

“You were also very clearly put off by the fact that I had no issue with Chuuya,” you note, biting back a laugh at the squeak-like protest that slips from his lips and the mortified expression that follows. “Jealousy, another exceedingly human trait.”

“I was not jealous,” he cries out, a bit too loud because from where he’s sleeping on the bed, Chuuya grumbles out a ‘shut the fuck up’ in his sleep. “I was not jealous.”

“It’s okay if you were,” you say, instead of indulging in his denial. “I’m not judging you.”

“I wasn’t,” Dazai hisses, more insistent now. “I don’t care if you like me or not.”

“Well, I do like you,” you tell him—honest, you’re having fun teasing him.

“You don’t even know me,” Dazai scoffs, cheeks still pink as he pointedly turns his face away from you. “You can’t like me.”

“I want to know you,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you observe him. You like observing things—it’s the easiest way of gathering information. You keep quiet, you don’t draw more attention to yourself than necessary. It’s how you’ve been able to thrive alone in Kyoto even with so many vultures circling you. “I don’t know many other people my age… none, really.”

Something strange crosses Dazai’s expression. Longing but hesitant. Wistful but reluctant, like he should know better but just can’t help himself from wanting. You’re good at reading people, you pride yourself on it; it’s another reason why you’ve been able to succeed in Kyoto alone. Dazai is difficult—he covers half of his face and he’s quick to school the other half when he slips up, but you’re observant. It’s what you’re best at. 

You wonder, maybe, if Dazai has his own vultures. You think he must, he’s young—like you—and it’s probably why he uses his reputation as a shield and wears his long black coat like armor in the same way you use honeyed words and wear a saccharine smile. So, the thought must be scary to him as much as it must be appealing—the desire to have someone see him put against the fear of actually being seen as he is. 

You know it better than anyone.

“Well, you can’t have Chuuya. Chuuya is my dog,” Dazai says firmly, raising his chin. “He follows my orders.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Your dog?” you ask dryly.

“My dog,” Dazai confirms, seemingly quite proud of himself. “I won a bet, and now Chuuya is my dog for life.”

“Must have been quite the bet,” you drawl, watching as Dazai brightens a bit at the topic.

“We had a contest to see who could figure out the culprit of one of our missions faster. I won, of course, because Chuuya is slow and dumb like a slug. A slug. Chuuya is a slug,” Dazai cackles, dark eye shining as his lips curl up into a wide smile, clapping his hands together. “I’m much better than Chuuya, you see. He’s a brute. He’s never had to learn to be smart or cunning because of his ability, so he just punches things around until he gets what he wants. Plus, he’s small—and if that’s not bad enough, he is more arrogant than his tiny body can hold. That’s why he’s my dog. He can’t do anything without his master’s orders.”

Dazai is not subtle in dragging Chuuya down to boast about himself, puffing out his chest like some prideful bird and lifting his chin as he speaks. You think that if Chuuya was awake to hear this, Dazai would find himself tossed right out of the window to fall two stories to the ground, but the other boy is asleep, blissfully unaware of Dazai’s rampage of insults. 

“What happened during the mission?” you ask curiously, a bit interested to know what’s all been happening in Yokohama while you’ve been gone.

Dazai looks surprised as if he didn’t expect you to encourage his yapping. Then, he lights up again. “I’ll tell you all about it…”

You wonder, maybe, if the rumors of his solidarity and inability to form meaningful relationships might not have stemmed from his own volition. Rather, you think they’ve been enforced by the people around him who refuse to give him the time of day in fear of his reputation, because right now in front of you isn’t some twisted and unfathomable wraith of the Mafia.

All you see is a boy the same age as you eager to have someone new to talk to. 

He talks all night. 

From the moment you sat there with him at two or three in the morning until dawn, you don’t think he shut his mouth once. You hardly spoke more than a handful of times, content to just lean your head against the window and listen to him go on about all of the missions he’s had since joining the Mafia a year ago—most of them involved Chuuya, and he certainly made a show of explaining in each one why the mission would have failed without Dazai there to guide it along.

“See. This is why he’s my dog.”

It’s not until Chuuya finally starts stirring as the sun crosses the horizon does he finally quiet down, seemingly not keen on getting himself launched out a window if the other boy happens to hear one of the unsavory stories Dazai’s telling you.

Then again, his first words are pretty much asking for it.

“About time you woke up, slug,” Dazai says cheerfully when Chuuya groans and rolls over, clearly starting to wake up. His dark eye gleams as he waits for Chuuya’s explosive reaction to the new nickname.

“Hah?! What did you just call me, bastard?” Chuuya snaps, although he’s quite slow in pushing himself out of bed, sleepy and disoriented, gaze swiveling around to try to land on Dazai.

“Huh,” you say, more to yourself than them. “He is quite sluggish in waking up.”

“What?!” Chuuya demands, head snapping toward you. 

On the other side of the window bench, Dazai snickers, looking mighty pleased with himself. He looks a lot more his age now, the tenseness in his shoulders has dissipated in the hours he spent talking to you, the tightness in his face has smoothed out. His eye is a lot wider and a lot brighter, the corner of his lip twitching as he waits to see what Chuuya’s going to do next. He sits closer to you now too—or, not closer, really, but he’s extended his legs out a bit as the night drew on until they were all but entangled with yours.

“You’re a slug, Chuuya,” Dazai jeers. “A slug. Because you’re small and slow. Aren’t I so brilliant?”

“I’m going to toss your shitty ass out the window,” Chuuya booms, throwing himself out of bed and darting over to Dazai, who evades Chuuya’s punch by diving off of the window bench, nearly taking you right with him considering his legs were stuffed between yours. “Get back here, you asshole.”

Dazai’s out of the room in an instant and Chuuya is chasing after him, spitting out curses and threats. You sit there for a moment, blinking, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened before just deciding to shake your head and rise to your feet. You stretch, body a bit sore from sitting in the same place for hours and tired from the little amount of sleep you got last night. 

You’re ready to get back to headquarters. You want to sleep in an actual bed and you want to drag Mori for his incompetence and nearly getting you killed. You miss Elise too, even if you don’t really like what she’s become. You’re just happy to not be alone anymore—being in Kyoto was… stressful, at best, and downright agonizing, at worst. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even your ability was enough to protect you there, you had no friends, you were lonely and constantly looking over your shoulder because you had no one to watch your back—even the other members of the Mafia in Kyoto with you would’ve turned against you at any given chance if it meant they could drag themselves higher up the hierarchy. 

You yawn as you leave the room, hearing the distant sounds of Chuuya kicking Dazai’s shit in. You make your way to the front of the building you guys had camped the night out, intent on getting a breath of fresh air before waiting for them to stop fucking around but you hardly get more than half a step out of the door before you’re pushed back hard against a nearby wall.

Your eyes widen when a figure manifests in front of you, particles of shadows knitting together to form a young man who seems to be a few years older than you. You barely withhold a sigh, realizing that despite all attempts to avoid him, you still managed to stumble right into the hands of Strain’s shadow manipulator—literally.

“I didn’t expect the cargo we got intel on to be a girl,” he says coolly.  “I almost didn’t believe it when Anderson reported it to me. Though I haven’t heard from him in hours, I assume that’s your doing.”

“You know,” you say lightly, “this is the second time in less than twelve hours that I’ve been called cargo. I think I like it even less coming from you.”

Though you’ve heard a lot about the shadow manipulator, you didn’t know what he looked like before now—he’s quick and elusive, and those who do manage to catch sight of him are killed by him soon after.. He’s not much older than you, though—two years max—handsome enough, pale blonde hair and green eyes with tan, freckled skin. 

Your lips curve up into a small smile. “Are you going to kill me or are you going to stand here with your hand around my neck? … Just so you know, I’m not into that.”

You watch as—just as you expect—he frowns deeply and takes a step back. He watches you carefully, brows knit together, and you let your ability work. Invisible threads wind around his limbs, curling up his neck twisting into his ears and nose and mouth, they curl up to his brain and take root, leaving him vulnerable to however you plan to use your ability.

You still have to be careful. You have to be subtle. Your ability is useful but it has its drawbacks—the biggest being that if you’re too sudden with it, the person you’re targeting can realize that you’re messing with their head and pull themselves out of it. That would be the worst case scenario because 1) they’d realize you have an ability and 2) you’d be in trouble. 

So you resign to just tilting your head to the side as you smile—some emotions are fickle, positive ones like love and happiness, especially among people like you who don’t often feel those emotions. Negative emotions are easier in that once you send someone into a spiral of fear, paranoia or rage, it’s almost impossible for them to draw themselves out, but they’ll inevitably realize that you had done something to their head, which is not an option because your ability needs to remain a secret.

So you decide to just rely on the passive form of your ability, watching as he falls victim to it, shoulders slumping and muscles relaxing as he eyes you curiously. Your ability is non-combatant, yes, but as soon as combat is over, it comes out to play.

He’d made a fatal mistake when he chose not to snap your neck.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you say conversationally, hands behind your back as you tilt your head to the side. “They say you’re one of the strongest ability users in the world right now.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be a kid,” he says with a frown. “You’re what? Fourteen?”

You blanche. “I’m sixteen,” you protest, forgetting to keep up appearances as you stare at him, aghast. “I do not look fourteen.”

He makes a face as if he disagrees and then shrugs. 

Your eyes bulge. “I do not,” you repeat angrily. “I’m sixteen.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, amused. “I’m not in the business of killing kids though, so I guess I have to take you in. What a bother.”

Your eye twitches. You’d rather die than be taken hostage by Strain and you don’t know where your shitty escorts are so you settle for antagonizing him as a means to stall.

“You’re a high-ranking member of Strain, how are you going to sit here and tell me you’re not in the business of killing kids?” you sneer. “Your organization has been the cause of more child deaths than any other in the world.”

His eyes turn to slits as he stares at you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says coldly. “I put a stop to all of the rings in Australia myself.”

“And what? You think Strain is willing to just take those losses?” you say, an amused laugh bubbling in the back of your throat when anger flashes through his eyes. Your gaze flits down to the five lines embroidered on his jacket. “For an executive, you must not be kept in the loop by the rest of your comrades. The moment you dismantled the rings in Australia, they turned to strike a deal with Bunin—what do you think your branch in Russia does there? They’re helping Bunin expand his trafficking rings through the East and Strain cuts twenty percent of the profit.”

His hand snaps forward to grab your collar, yanking you toward him. “How would you even know that?” he spits, but from the conflict thinly veiled behind his eyes, you know that your words have taken root. 

You raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, a bit too close for comfort.

“How did you know I was coming back to Yokohama?” you counter instead. He lets you go immediately, withdrawing with a closed-off expression. “Come on, we’ve both been betrayed in some manner—you by your organization, me by someone within mine. I almost burned to death because of them and you… you’ve been working for an organization that’s been lying to you for years. Let’s help each other.”

“I don’t even know if what you’re saying is the truth,” he replies tightly. “I don’t-”

“Then go find out,” you say with an idle smile, “and when you realize I’m telling the truth, well… your ability is quite handy, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me again.”

He stares at you for a moment, expression indecipherable, but after a few long seconds, he disappears in the same swirl of darkness that he appeared in and you can finally relax. You let out a heavy sigh as your shoulders slump, lifting your hand to your neck, wincing at the tenderness.

You doubt that will be enough. You’ve heard rumors that he’s Yakuza-born—only ended up with Strain after Mishima’s Sun and Steel went to war with their syndicate—loyalty is always core to those types, runs through their blood—but at least you’ve planted the seeds, and when he inevitably finds out you’re telling the truth, he’ll come crawling back for more information.

And hopefully some information for you in return. 

Your gaze flits to the side when you hear a crash from your left, seeing Nakahara Chuuya fly out of the building, hands glowing red and eyes wide and wild, trying to seek out a man who’s already long gone.

You roll your eyes. “He’s already gone. Thanks for the help, O’Great Protectors,” you say sarcastically. “Really, you guys are amazing at your job.”

Chuuya has the decency to look ashamed, face flushing as red as his hair as he deactivates his ability and looks away from you. “Who the hell was that?”

“Itou Asahi,” you say absently. “Strain’s shadow manipulator—one of the strongest ability users in the eastern hemisphere right now. Mori brought him up a few times wanting me to recruit him. I didn't think I’d get the chance considering we’re aligned with the Sun and Steel and he hates them, but I might have an opening.”

Your look over to Dazai, who only frowns at your words, gaze trained on you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“You’re hurt,” he says, brows furrowed, and you realize he’s looking at your neck.

You drop your hand from where you’d been brushing your fingers against the sensitive skin, feeling distinctly too seen under Dazai’s heavy gaze. You don’t know why you feel a bit flustered, but you do and you definitely don’t like it.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we head back to headquarters now?”

Dazai frowns like he’s about to protest, but Chuuya nods before he can. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Headquarters is less than a mile away now. The streets that three of you are walking down are safe—none of the organizations have made it this far into the heart of Port Mafia territory—and yet for some reason, Dazai still feels incredibly troubled. 

He hasn’t even been able to join in on you and Chuuya’s conversation. He’s had ample opportunity to considering how much Chuuya is embarrassing himself by trying to act smart, but instead he finds himself trailing behind the two of you, an outsider, too lost in his own thoughts to even think of trying to make a snide comment.

Why is he so troubled?

Dazai isn’t sure and that troubles him too.

He’s always been very in tune with himself. His emotions, his motives, his wants and needs—they’re few and far between, yes, but Dazai has never struggled to pinpoint them at any point in his life. 

He was sad when his ability manifested and his siblings no longer wanted anything to do with him. His ability made them uncomfortable, made them feel empty because it deprived them of their own abilities. They said it was unnatural, and they said he must be unnatural too because why else would he develop such a terrible ability? Dazai couldn’t really blame them, his ability made him feel empty too—he theorizes that when it doesn’t have an ability to suck up into the black hole, it starts devouring anything else it can get its hands on, like his emotions, because he stopped feeling much at all after it manifested. 

When he was twelve, he wanted to learn how to play the piano to impress his mother, though he never got the chance to show her because she was killed soon after. He hasn’t wanted much of anything since then. 

When he was fourteen, his grandfather started pitting him, his siblings and his cousins against each other. His older brother drew the first blood against one of his cousins, and it was a bloodbath from there on out. With both of his parents dead and his siblings and cousins trying to kill one another to be named his grandfather’s heir, Dazai didn’t have much reason to live himself, and he definitely didn’t want to be killed by one of his siblings or cousins. 

So, he thought the next logical step was to die, so he tried to kill himself.

He failed, obviously, and ended up with none other than Mori. He still hasn’t found much of a reason to keep living. Chuuya is around, he supposes, and he’s entertaining enough to mess with—it’s enough to keep Dazai going for now—and you claim to want to know him, so Dazai is interested in seeing how that plays out, but that’s beyond the point. 

The point is that Dazai knows what Dazai wants. Dazai knows what Dazai needs. Dazai knows what Dazai feels. And Dazai currently cannot figure out why Dazai is troubled, so something is certainly wrong and he needs to figure out what it is. 

He hears you laugh at something that Chuuya said and barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. Nothing Chuuya says is ever that funny, so you must just be being polite, but it’s still annoying. Mostly due to the fact that Dazai can’t call it out because he doesn’t even know what was said because he wasn’t paying attention courtesy of his current dilemma.

He withholds a sigh as his gaze drops to your neck, eyes focusing in on the dark bruises lining your neck—the fingerprints of that ability user form Strain that attacked you when he and Chuuya weren’t around—and his irritation spikes yet again.

At once, a lightbulb goes off in his head.

That’s what’s troubling him. He’s found himself looking back at the marks on your neck on more than one occasion, and each time, it’s triggered his displeasure. He’s not sure why it took him so long to put it together, but now lies a new issue: why is it triggering his displeasure?

He squints as he stares at you hard, willing the answer to come to him. There must be a logical reason for it, he just needs to figure out what it is. He can see you looking at him from the corner of your eye, probably wondering why he’s staring at you so intensely, but Dazai just can’t rip his gaze away, fully intent on figuring out what his problem is right now.

Casualties are expected in this line of work. Dazai has never been one to think twice when people are hurt or killed in the line of action—he’s lost many subordinates to ensure the success of a mission and has even put his own life on the line if it meant that it bettered his chances of succeeding. So he should by no means be bothered by the prospect of you being wounded, especially considering he barely knows you.

“I want to know you.”

Dazai blinks as your words suddenly ring through his head again, startled by his own thoughts. His brows furrow even deeper because no, that can’t possibly be the reason why. He supposes it might be influencing it a bit because people who want to know him are few and far between, so the thought of meeting someone who actually gives him the time of day and almost losing them right away is unfortunate. It makes sense that it’s making him more irritable, especially when it’s something he’s curious to see play out and it’s something that could’ve been easily prevented.

Oh, he realizes, suddenly satisfied as he comes to an answer that he can quickly accept, disregarding everything else. 

That’s the issue—it was preventable. 

Dazai should’ve seen it coming and he should’ve been quick to take the necessary steps to avoid it. What he was feeling was irritability at himself, not at the fact that you got hurt. It wouldn’t make sense because Dazai doesn’t know you and even if he did know you, casualties are expected in this line of work. But you’re his assignment—his and Chuuya’s—Dazai has never failed an assignment before, much less with Chuuya, and he’d come this close because he’d recklessly let down his guard in enemy territory. 

It makes sense.

Much more than any of the other absurd explanations he’d been considering do at least.

This time when Chuuya makes a stupid comment, Dazai chimes in with some very necessary commentary, giving you a simpering smile and a wink before dancing out of the way of Chuuya’s much anticipated roundhouse.

Still, Dazai finds the troubled feeling returning again when his gaze drifts back down to the marks on your neck as he passes by the two of you with flourished spin, antagonizing Chuuya just to entertain himself with how red his face gets in embarrassment. 

But his gaze darts back up to your face quickly and he shakes off the unwelcome feeling, another quip on the tip of his tongue that abruptly dies when he sees your hand pressed to your mouth as you try to hide your amusement from Chuuya. Your eyes are turned up and your smothered giggles are just barely audible, the mid-morning sun casts an ethereal glow over your face and for a moment, Dazai is entirely stunned by the sight. He nearly trips over his own foot, and since he’s unsteady on his feet, he can’t avoid the way Chuuya predictably transitions from a roundhouse into a back kick.

He goes flying backward, all breath pushed from his lungs as takes the kick to the gut and hits the concrete hard a few feet away. He should be disgruntled, or he should at the very least retaliate with another mocking jibe, but instead, he finds his gaze fixed on you, watching as you finally burst into laughter, unable to contain it with the sight of Dazai sprawled out on the ground looking like a clown.

His heart rate spikes and Dazai’s hand flies to his chest, alarmed—becomes even more so when it doesn’t settle down. He rips his gaze from you to stare down at the ground, forcibly calming his heart and only when he’s sure that he’s got it under control, he looks back up.

Immediately, he loses control over it again, and this time it feels even more erratic, each thump resonating through his ears as you approach him, giggles quieting as you hold out your hand to help him up. 

For a horrifying second, Dazai thinks he might have a heart attack and that would be a lame way to go. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he does not have a heart attack, although that means he’s probably going to have to go to Mori when he gets back to the base—death may have been more preferable to that. 

Great, he thinks bitterly, not only has he had to deal with Chuuya for over twenty-four now, but now he’s going to have to go see Mori and figure out what the hell is wrong with him. Or you. He wonders if maybe you have an ability that’s somehow affecting him, that would be a serious issue for future missions that the two of you might be paired for. 

But it must be that—it’s the most logical explanation. 

What a mess the past day has been, but…

Dazai thinks it might’ve been worth the trouble, eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he takes your hand, taking note of the odd jolt that runs up his arm as soon as your fingers wrap around his hand to help him up. 

He doesn’t notice that even with your fingers locked with his, his heart still beats out of his chest. 

“Don’t tell me you’re over here reminiscing.”

You roll your eyes before looking over your shoulder to focus your gaze on an achingly familiar face. Chuuya drops lightly to the ground behind you, using gravity to soften his fall as he approaches you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, folding your arms over your chest as a smile curves to your lips. “I was waiting for you.”

“D’aw, did ya miss me?” he asks with a sharp smile.

You have a retort ready to fly from your lips, but instead of speaking it, you sigh and let your gaze drift across the street in Kanagawa-ku that you’re standing in. Even after all of these years, the ground and buildings are still charred where that ability user had attacked you—faded now, of course, but you can still make out the faint remnants of the attacks.

Maybe you are reminiscing, you think to yourself, a heavy feeling settling over you. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture the rubble you were hiding behind, the jolt of fear you’d felt when you realized you wouldn’t be able to dodge the next attack, and then him.

And then Dazai.

“I did,” you admit, dragging your eyes from the ground to look back at Chuuya, whose smile falters a bit before softening.

“I can’t believe Mori had you abroad for three years,” he sighs, reaching out to squeeze your wrist. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Let’s head back to headquarters and have a drink. We can put on a movie.”

“Not one of your shitty horror movies,” you laugh, knocking your shoulder into his. You lean into him a bit as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, keeping it draped around you as the two of you start to make your way back to the base.

You hesitate—and Chuuya can feel your hesitation from the way he glances down at you, concerned. He frowns and asks, “What’s up?”

You let out a puff of air and then speak up reluctantly, “Have you… heard from him? Of him?”

You hate the twinge of hope that’s audible in your voice, despite how hard you tried to rid yourself of it. You hate even more the sympathetic look that Chuuya casts you; he knows who you’re talking about instantly—of course, he does, there’s only one person it could be—his lashes lower and his arm drops back to his side. 

“I saw him,” Chuuya says after a few moments. Your eyes widen as your head snaps toward him, waiting for him to continue. “... Met him. He’s part of the Armed Detective Agency now. Got himself captured by us to try to get information to help his new protege.”

“Oh.”

Your throat feels tight. Too tight. Swollen. Your eyes sting painfully and you have to force yourself to take a deep breath. The Armed Detective Agency. New protege. You don’t know if you feel bitter or relieved. Bitter because he’s found a place somewhere without you, relieved because he’s alive and okay. 

His defection still doesn’t even feel real after four years, it’s not like you’ve been in Yokohama long enough to fully process it, but god… you could still imagine him coming up behind the two of you with a snide comment to antagonize Chuuya, eyes trained on you to watch the way you laugh at Chuuya’s reaction. The wistfulness hits you so hard that it almost knocks the air from your lungs—not for the first time since he left, you yearn, you miss him, you want him, and now that you’re finally back in Yokohama after so many years abroad, it’s all the more intense.

How unfair, you think, nails biting into your palms as you stare ahead.

“Do you think he’s replaced us?” You try to keep your voice light, but you think you fail.

Chuuya lets out a bark of laughter. “He can certainly try.”

Your lips curl up at Chuuya’s words, gaze flickering down to the ground. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree quietly before asking, “Did he seem… okay?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about that shithead anymore,” he tells you. “I’m sure he’ll come looking for you now that you’re back. Let’s go home now, yeah?” 

The thought of Dazai coming to look for you makes your stomach twist with anxiety; after so many years apart, you just don’t know what to expect… but you suppose you’ve never really known what to expect from him, so you’ll just handle him the same way you always have. Except maybe not as kindly.

But you don’t have to worry about that yet.  Instead, you smile and bump shoulders with Chuuya again.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

[harmeu]

Falling Tears

(BSD MEN REACT TO THEIR SPOUSE CRYING)

(GN!Reader)

Dazai Osamu:

We all know Dazai is one to shrug off people's problems as if it were a measly little thing that was nothing to fuss over. The casual “You’ll be fine~!” But we all also know that Dazai cares for you. He loves you. If you were to sob in front of him it’d send him into an overdrive of broken worry.

You were tired. Sick and tired. It felt as if everyone was shrugging you off of your problems and you ran to the agency bathroom because your throat closed up and felt water appearing in your eyes. 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

You knew those footsteps. It was your boyfriend. Dazai. You immediately began trying to wipe the tears, imagining that if Dazai were to see he’d try to stifle his laughter because of all those times he waved off your problems and vents. Sadly the tears couldn’t stop and now you were a flushed mess looking down to avoid his gaze. It was piercing.

“Darling what's this? Why’re you trying to hide your pretty face from meee~?” He cooed tilting your head up, having a playful smile but it broke as he noticed your tears. 

“Oh..what happened.?” 

“No one listens or takes me seriously. Not even you! I’m tired. Go away.” You try to shrug him off but he grasps your hands pulling you onto his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, his face softening. “I’m the asshole for ignoring. I should've known.” Worry was evident on his handsome face and you flushed at his words. You really needed to hear that. As Dazai apologized he peppered your face with kisses.

“Next time slap me if I brush off your problems. I might like it if you slap me though.” He winked which you scoffed at, holding back a chuckle.

Chuuya Nakahara:

Chuuya, despite being someone who definitely needs anger management classes will get immensely suspicious if you were to get the tiniest bit of a frown on your face. “Are you alright?” He’d constantly ask and once you break down his heart shatters.

You collapsed onto your bed spasming a bit from trying to hold back your tears. You knew you could tell Chuuya your love about your problems. Though there was a thing inside of you that said that he would be forcing himself to comfort you so you kept your mouth shut silently sobbing into a pillow curled up.

You flinched as the door knob cranked open revealing your boyfriend with wide eyes as he saw you so disheveled.

“What's wrong doll?” He murmured going to you and sitting beside you on the bed taking his gloved fingers to stroke your back delicately.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t wanna bother.” You mumble back looking back down at the pillow you sobbed into.

“Tell me who did it.” Chuuyas glare becomes more pronounced as seconds pass and you almost chuckle at his overprotectiveness.

“I’m just tired.” You say averting your gaze.

“I can be your stress relief.” He stared and flushed at his own words, scowling. “Not like that! Like..my arms are free for you.”

You laughed and dug yourself deep into his chest nuzzling as Chuuya put his chin on your head, kissing it gently.

Ranpo Edogawa:

This piece of shit of an egotistical man will KNOW your sad but won’t do anything about it. He’ll brush it off like Dazai in a more childish way. “I have better things to do!” He’d say casually sucking on his lollipop. But those once closed eyes would widen at the sight of your tears coming on display.

Everything and everyone was so mean. Why can’t they just understand you're tired?! You’ve tried. So. Many. Times. To talk to your boyfriend about your problems but he’d change the topic with what he was busy with.

Thinking no one was here you buried yourself into your desk of the agency, silent tears slipping out your eyes as you took a shaky breath, hands trembling beneath the desk. You sniffled but then heard a drop of some kind of food. Ice cream. Splat on the ground as you lift your head to see your boyfriend staring at you wide eyed, his glasses barely holding on.

“What?” You say annoyed wiping your tears so you don’t embarrass yourself further.

“You're crying.” He said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.

“No shit.” You rubbed your eyes frantically realizing the tears wouldn’t stop which turned into a sniffle fest and you averted your body from him in a fluster.

Footsteps came closer and you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind and a face nuzzle into your neck.

“Did I do it.?” Ranpo mumbled a childish tone evident in his voice.

“Your part of it.” You said between tears and then your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck sending shivers down you. You try to glare but he uses the puppy dog look to manipulate you. Damn it.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled averting his gaze.

You didn’t fully accept his apology but you did accept the kisses he kept giving you during this encounter making you flush.

(FIRST POST IN LIKE MONTHSOMG anyway)

[s4mu-k41d3n]

LOVEPOTIONS. f4ck me pl1z d0nt st0p !

• • • MDNI, chuuya, dazai x bimbo!reader.

warning: hardcore sex, 3some, double penetration, degradation kink, corruption kink, bondage, breeding, brat taming, nipple play, spanking, not proofread. i apologize if it seems rushed i didnt know what i was doing (TvT)a (and im lazy ass hell i think its obvious enough☹️ writers block goes vroom vroom) kinktober thing

update: i am making a dazai x reader fic guys dw its in my notes because i hate my writing when i write on tumblr and i will disappear for another 2 months again dont flop plz plz🙏 (here’s the warning for the dazai fic im writing)

Another brash ‘slap!’ landed on your ass.

You wail profoundly, tears slipping of the corner of your blurry vision clouded with reminiscent fogs shielding your sight. “Tsk, thought you could get away with this huh?” Chuuya’s big cock stretches your puffy pussy as his hips relentlessly snaps on the fat flesh of your ass, poorly brimmed with prominent red marks biting at your skin. Dazai merely hums under you, nimble hands shoved inside of your tight little asshole, drenching with slicks of cum.

“Feel good, baby?” Dazai’s tongue stripes up on your neck while hot sweat trickles off your forehead. “Wahh!!—mnn! meaaann!” You furiously cry out. Your senses reeled with overwhelming touches running throughout your body, your lungs were flowery—air cruelly ripped out of you. Chuuya pounds even more harshly on your pussy whilst his beefy hands claw at your waist.

“That’s—plap!—what you get for being such a brat-“ He groans while Dazai pumps his fingers in n’ out of you at such a disdaining pace, his thumb mercilessly flicking at your bud while his four fingers were wallowed in your greedy cunt.

“Fufuu! Stooop! H-eeeekk!! ‘samuuu- chuu’ “ You hiccup, your tongue lolled out as you were strained to even speak, your moans fanning out in stuttery noises as your body was racked back n’ forth like some ragdoll by Chuuya unbelievably thrusting behind you. “Ughnnn… Fuck, slut. Keep tightening around me, yeah? yeahhh- fuck..” Chuuya growls, Dazai slips his hands out of your pussy causing you to gasp in a portion of relief until his cock was already buried deep inside of you, repeatedly hitting your g-spot over n’ over again.

“You feel s’ good, ‘donna- mnn? you gonna pass out? slap! poor baby..” You yelp at the outrageous smack on your ass, your legs were so pushed up to your chest. You felt a knot pooling in your tummy while their cocks made a bulge on your stomach. “ ‘m clooooseeee!! ‘m closee!” You sob, their paces quickening in an instant. Dazai pulls at your hair revealing more exposure of your neck. His head hiding in your neck while strands of his hair prods at your skin. Chuuya’s ponytail was left untied, fallen beside his shoulder.

You were trembling uncontrollably as you were crashed by their releases filling you up in a sudden, causing you to scream out while your eyes roll back to your head. You were so pumped full by their sticky release, you were desperately overspilling. Chuuya pulls out with a pop, whilst Dazai’s cock nestled in your battered pussy. Chuuya rolls over onto the crinkled sheets as no one bothered to clean up.

You were too tired anyways.

[jackiepackiee]

After seeing your recent post I'mSending in my request Love!!

How would the bad men take care of their wife who get amnesia due to blood loss which resulted by being shot by a pistol or gets into an accident during a mission.

You have the free dom to make it like a one shot or head canon for these men

Dazai, Kunikida, aktugawa, fyodor, Nikolai, and Chuuya

Other than that take care love!! Make sure to stay hydrated! 💞💞

𝐵𝒮𝒟 𝓍 𝒜𝓂𝓃𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒶! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲/ 𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾, 𝒦𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓀𝒾𝒹𝒶, 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

Absolutely mortified

He has memory loss to (from the lab and Araharbaki) and knows how much it can mess with a person

He wants the best for you, and this clearly isn’t that

He fears in his heart and soul that you might question your humanity like he did so he will kill before that happens to you

Back to the mission itself

He hates for you to do solo missions, but Mori’s call is Mori’s call at the end of the day

Even if you weren’t alone, he only trusts a handful of people with your protection

Black lizard, all the executives, and the ADA if it’s during an alliance

But no, you weren’t with a safe group

So when you got hurt (which was not expected, Mori wouldn’t send you on something just to hurt you duh) he was PISSED

Wiped out the enemy in seconds

Yelled at Mori as to why he didn’t just send Chuuya instead

When you’re in the hospital, he waits outside

He would hate to scare you

I mean, he’s pissed and he knows you hate when he raises his voice to any level

But… all hell breaks loose when he finds out you have amnesia

Pushes right past the doctors and doors

If you forget him… he’s flipping tables and going to find whoever hurt you and actually kill them this time

He’s inconsolable

You’re his love, and to forget that is a pain of death

He may not visit you much at first, but he’ll come around

If you do remember him, he’ll take the biggest sigh of relief ever

Hugs you

And believe me, he will buy whatever therapy, drug, or surgery that will help you

Helps you relearn everything important

For your wedding, he had to put on your wedding dress and pretend to walk down the isle to maybe make you remember

Cried at how beautiful you looked

Labels images in the house by event, person in the photo, and date

So you can know what special moments you’ve had

A sliver lining is that he can take you on a tour of the city, showing you all the sights for what for you is the first time

And you forget all the gore and pain you’ve seen in the port mafia

Over all, he’s coping, but he’ll come around and help

DAZAI OSAMU

He is a changed man from the port mafia past, but he almost forgets his resolve

Never has he doubted your skill, it’s the absolute terror and pain he knows other people wouldn’t hesitate to inflict on you that he fears

He’s seen it first hand

So when you’re completely alone on a mission he sorta freaks out

Less jokes, no suicide attempts till you’re back

But… you aren’t back soon?

And when you’re finally back, it’s with Kenji crying and using his super strength to carry you to Yosano

The poor boy was so scared, he had found you while looking at the local park

Safe to say, Dazai was frozen in place at the blood that has trailed from the door to Yosano’s office

He was mad. But not yelling

No, he was calculated and cold

He walked to Fukuzawa’s office, and asked for the enemy name

No one knows what happened in the 30 minutes he was gone…

Back to you, he knocks and talked with Yosano for a while

When he heard you had amnesia, it was the first time she saw him so vulnerable

“Does she remember me?” “I don’t know, Dazai.”

Walked in slowly

If you remember him, he’ll immediately give you a hug

Knowing that is enough for him

But if you forget?

I hate to say this, but he may try to distance himself

“You got your chance with in, and look at what ended up happening” is this thought process

But, he’ll visit Oda’s grave and think it over

He knows then that you need him

You need your husband, your Osamu

So the next few days is him having you help with cases he knows the criminal, but wants your mind to have a workout

Doesn’t try for any affection because he knows you may be to weak

When you finally kiss again, he has never put more passion into anything

During his time of caring for you he doesn’t make a single comment about suicide

After losing your beautiful memories and mind, he can’t imagine losing you

Your life is like a glass, held by his slim hands

And he’ll kill before anyone does this to you again

KUNIKIDA DOPPO

Kunikida is often “serious”, but Dazai can attest he’s never seen him so truly and utterly serious before

Not in his scolding, fatherly way

But in a cold, quiet way

He doesn’t even touch his book for at least a week

Thinks ideals make so sense now that his wife is hurt

And he didn’t stop it

When he first found out, he dropped his book

He clutched his ring to his chest

Walks into the room you’re saying in slowly

“Love? Do you… remember me?” “Sorry, love? Please don’t call me that, sir.”

Tears fall, but he wipes them before you can get concerned

Even if you don’t know him anymore, he knows with your kind heart you’ll comfort a crying stranger

And he wants to be the one comforting you

He tries his best to explain everything

Showing his ring, the photo of the two of you he keeps in his wallet, and even has Yosano confirm it

He doesn’t cope well…

OR

“Love? Do you… remember me?” “Kuni… hi.”

Hides his face in his hands

He has never been more happy in his life

Rushes to you and kisses your hand

Now, he still has to teach you life again

And who better than an ex teacher?

He’s so patient

Uses cute little techniques

He is… okay

I mean, he wants you to be okay

You will definitely heal the fastest with him

He spares all his free time into helping you

Makes little drawings in his notebook for you to learn objects again

And, he readjusts his schedule! All for you

Only for you

[sonder-paradise]

Hello, my dear friend. I was thinking… what if Chuuya, Akutagawa, Dazai, Atsushi are having a nightmare and their s/o comforts them?… btw, I really like your posts🖤 thank you for doing them, I really like them a lot💙💛

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 — 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

◊ characters. chuuya nakahara, osamu dazai, ryunosuke akutagawa, atsushi nakajima, gn!reader

◊ genre. slight angst, comfort

◊ note. thank you for the req i had fun :)

— 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

for a man that does not dream, the closest he gets is the vague feeling that he is not safe. when he awakes, his palms stick to the sheets. his chest pounds and he swears he doesn't know what's going on.

he remembers nothing but a vague memory that something is wrong. he blinks, breathing slowly. once, twice, and then finally turning his head to look down at your sleeping form.

you are safe. he is safe. but as you shift in your sleep, mumbling something softly to yourself before finally looking up at him with hazy eyes, he feels a horrid, painful ache in his chest.

"chuuya? what are you doing up?" you whisper. your voice soothes something inside him and he swallows thickly.

"nothing. just thinking," he says quickly.

your lips tug down for a moment before letting out a sigh. your hand wraps around his waist, pulling him back down to the bed to lay down. he lays in your embrace quietly, soaking in your whispered words and soothing touch.

"you know you can tell me if something's the matter."

"i know."

unspoken words drift into the silence and chuuya releases his grip on the sheets to hold you a little tigher.

— 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢

dazai says nothing. pulling himself out of bed and towards the kitchen. he's not sure what to do. his mind races and for a second he's scared. everything feels so unfamiliar, so unnatural.

'it was just a dream.'

that's what he tells himself as he paces the kitchen debating on heading down to the Lupin. then you appear in the doorway. he stills himself, eyes wide as his lips fall open in an attempt to explain himself.

but then, he doesn't have to.

"osamu... if you had a nightmare, it's okay to talk to me."

he pauses once more. for a brief second, he looks close to tearing up. but dazai knows better. it would be silly to find relief in you just because of some silly dream.

but when you stand a little straighter and open your arms like that... he can't help but find his way back into your embrace. you stroke his hair as he sinks into your touch.

"wanna talk about it?" you whisper, slowly but surely leading him back towards the bed.

"no," he murmurs, letting himself succumb to the way you just... take care of him. no extra narrative involved except your love.

— 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚

panic. that's the first thing atsushi feels upon waking back up. he's alert and scanning the room for potential areas of danger. but as he soaks in the atmosphere, he spots his familiar room, the scent of you and him intermingled comfortingly and most important, you.

he stills himself, trying to pull it together slowly. questions race through his mind. is it okay to wake you for this? would you be mad if he got closer? his anxiety warps his already panicked state of mind.

then you roll over, rubbing your eyes before realizing the sort of state your lover's currently in.

"atsushi..." you murmur, carefully holding your arms open. "what's wrong?"

he immediately latches on with no intention of letting go anytime soon. silence replaces his answer but eventually he mumbles the details of his dream to you.

you’re quiet, taking in the way be trembles under your touch and stiffens when he thinks you’re about to pull away.

“i’m here. i’m not going anywhere,” you whisper and he nods and accepts those words.

the silence becomes a little less terrifying.

— 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

he wouldn’t admit he’s been startled awake by something haunting his mind. akutagawa turns away from you, unable to look at your peaceful form.

he traces back his memory; where he is, who he is, and his safety. he’s not wearing his coat…

akutagawa grabs the dark coat that sits patiently on a chair nearby. he wraps it around himself and questions if sleep is still a viable option for him.

then your voice hurries from the bed and he returns to your side.

“ryuu, are you going somewhere?” you ponder aloud, noticing the way he grips his coat a little tighter.

“no,” he grumbles.

you stare at him quizzically. he looks so frail and tired standing there so awkwardly. you soften your tone as you reach out to cup his cheek.

“you can keep the coat on. just lay down with me, is that okay?”

he thinks for a moment, then nods and sits back down. the coat is still wrapped around his frail shoulders. you pull your arms around him too.

akutagawa isn’t sure whether or not to love this affection or shun away from it. but it feels so warm, so unfamiliar yet right that he accepts it.

it’s a better alternative than the nightmarish comforts that await him when he shuts his eyes.

Taglist: @requiem626k @kruven @nonsense-corner @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @colourless-cora @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @trashykawahq @swrdemon @life-sus @foolishestchildofchilds @fyodorscello @kur0-kawa @planetxiao @dazaiaiko @chuuyasboots @ruthdied @allisonlol @questioningmyownexistence @sebtomm @nullified-kiss @nathansside @cuteflowers-101 @sigmafied @boombboi @scarletta-ruan @skgch @daz8i @httpsobi @dazaiscum @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @dazaisfavgf @alice0blog @irethepotato @vinyicryes @monastary @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @disa-ster @mastering-procrastinating @wonpielle

[railleriee]

Top, Bottom, Switch? - BSD Men

Hello! I'm back. (finally) I've been back on my bsd brainrot. I can not get enough of them. That being said, enjoy these Headcanons of some of my bungo stray dogs favs! ( I plan to update my layout soon! Any ideas would be appreciated! )

Characters included: Dazai, Chuuya, Kunikida, Ranpo, Poe, Akutagawa, Atsushi.

Reader is non-gender specific!

Warnings: Mention of sex, bratty characters, kinks, whining, etc. (Let me know if I missed any! )

Dazai: 

Switch, a preference for top. 

I feel like when he was laying low for a year or so after leaving the PM he got around a bit. 

He’s been with multiple people and he’s definitely well experienced in bed. 

Dazai loves having power over others, resulting in his need to be a top. 

HIGH stamina, multiple rounds. 

Sex with him is wild, he’s very experimental. 

Rarely ever gets romantic during sex. 

On occasion he’d love to bottom! 

Definitely a bratty bottom, really into overstimulation.

Loves being teased in public, such a big turn on for him. 

Always down for quickies anywhere. 

Chuuya: 

Switch, reference for top. 

He’s definitely not as experienced as Dazai, and hasn't had the chance to get around a ton. 

He claims to know what he’s doing but definitely needs advice/teaching when it actually comes to it.

I like to think he’s surprisingly soft when it comes to sex.

Slow and gentle thrusts, poor baby is afraid of hurting you. 

When he’s on bottom, adores being ridden. 

He’s so sensitive and whines a bunch, whether he likes to admit it or not. 

Prevent him from touching you, it’ll drive him mad. 

Kunikida: 

He’s a top. 

I’d like to say he’s a switch but I can’t see him being on bottom. 

He’d be way too embarrassed to even admit it if he wanted to try it. 

He’s very straight to it, minimal teasing, although will take the time to prep you as needed. 

First few times were definitely awkward, although the more used to it he got, the better it got. 

Handsy. 

Hands are roaming every part of your body, he’s surprisingly skilled with them as well. 

Definitely into more sentimental sex, not into spur of the moment sex. 

Wants to make it as romantic as possible. 

Loves making you feel good <3

Ranpo: 

Switch, preference for bottom. 

He’s adorable, loves to be on bottom 

He’s lazy, and wants to do as minimal work as possible. 

BRAT! 

It’s so easy to break the poor boy, purposely misbehaves because he loves how possessive and angry you get.

He turns into a brainless mess who can’t even speak :-((

Babbling incoherent words while letting out whines. 

Begs! Deny him an orgasm and get the most precious mewls out of him. 

Very lazy if he tops, he whines and makes exaggerated sighs the entire time. 

Poe: 

Bottom, you can't change my mind.

Nothing screams bottom as much as this man. 

He’s very submissive in bed, always behaving. 

Melts when called “good boy”.

He doesn’t make a bunch of noise, but if he does he’s definitely whiny. 

Very shy! 

Reassure him, tell him how pretty he is and how he’s doing such a good job. 

Sex with him is always different. 

Experimentalist. 

Although shy, always willing to bring up new ideas and try them!

Akutagawa: 

Another bottom. 

This boy has never had sex a day in his life, so when you first did, he was clueless. 

Didn’t even know the aspect of top and bottom. 

When educated on it, he wasn’t sure what to do, although did as he thought pleased you! 

Him being on bottom is like stress relief for him.

He’s always trying to please, so someone else is pleasing HIM? He’s signed right up. 

Doesn’t make much noise, maybe a few grunts here and there. 

His entire body is sensitive, shivers anywhere you kiss him. 

Secretly adores marking. Loves having a reminiscence of the night before! 

Some of the PM notices said marks, although he never elaborates on his sex life to anyone. 

Atsushi: 

Switch, no preference. 

Where do I even start with him? He’s such a sweetheart. 

Soft and caring during, willing to try out anything you suggest as long as he doesn’t think he’d hurt you! 

Gasps a ton. 

Easily flustered, tease him during work and watch his face heat up! 

Stumbles over his words when teased. 

Like kunikida, he’s not into spur of the moment type sex. 

Into sentimental and romantic sex :-)) 

[miss-cincaide]

Off Your Plate 

Summary: Chuuya surprises you by handling the chores on your plate that make you tired, in the process making sure the ‘chore’ you crossed out a couple of days ago returned and settled right back at the top of the list. 

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Boyfriend! Chunya Nakahara Warnings! This fic contains:  18+ content, pressure sex and a hint at dub-con, pet names, fingering, cursing & emotional detachment.

Read at your own risk.  

Unlocking the front door with a finger, you carefully balanced yourself and the numerous grocery bags in your arms as you wiggled through the heavy, bulletproof door of your boyfriend's luxurious home. You were desperate not to drop or damage precious items for your soon-to-be dinner or else- You paused, a frown graced your lips. The normally silent apartment wasn’t as silent as when you left it: there was an unmistakable faint humm of running tap water and the cling-clang of dishes. 

Your stomach dropped to your feet; dread gnawed at your insides at the prospect of your usual peace disturbed and your comforting routine ruined. Instantly, your gaze sought out the clock- surely, you couldn’t have wasted away all afternoon.

12:36. 

The wave of panic increased: it was far too early for Chuuya to be home. Shouldn’t he be away on some Mafia errand or something about a new diamond mine? Or maybe he was out saving Dazai’s skin again? No, not that. Was it a clean-up job he said he’d be on and would return later than usual? The one where he said he’d be home by midnight?! 

"Oh-Hey babydoll, You're home?” Chuuya’s voice was surprised, then it morphed into a slightly scolding tone as he turned off the tap “ Why didn't you say anything?" 

“I.. didn’t think you were home?” You answered lamely and hoped he mistook your disappointment for surprise. 

His chuckle reassured you that he did, and you felt your shoulders slump in relief as you watched him slowly strut towards you. You noted that his jacket was off, his dress shirt pulled up to the elbows, and his gloves were missing. Unmistakable dishwater dampened his skin while reminiscent of bubbles slowly popped away on his gloveless digits. 

You plastered a smile as he took the grocery bags off your hands and leaned forward, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek. You felt the unmistakable tingle of his ability, the way the hairs raised on your body as if you expected him to levitate you into the air. To your relief (or disappointment?), he refrained. Instead, he moved behind you and helped you remove your jacket before he let you walk to the kitchen first. An unmistakable smirk on his face which made your stomach drop further to your feet

What did you do?

The short walk to the kitchen felt agonizingly long. To your astonishment, the dishes from the morning were done, dinner prepped, and counter wiped. The laundry baskets you abandoned in the living room were nowhere in sight, and the faint hum of the washing machine told you the laundry was well on the go.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, the executive walked past you further into the kitchen and propped the fridge and freezer door open. 

“You’re home early? Was the mission too easy again?” You teased lightly, trying to hide your shock behind the usual banter. But what you really wanted to ask was: You did my chores? Why? 

“Ehh, I send some stuck-up assholes to deal with it instead”, Chuuya muttered, tone nonchalant as he made a motion for the levitated groceries to unpack themselves onto their rightful places while he busied himself with opening a bottle of red.

So he sent his subordinates to their death, no doubt. 

The notion weighed heavily on you, and you readily accepted the drink. Before Chuuya even managed to take his much more moderate sip, you had already downed half of the glass. You stopped yourself from downing the rest as you heard his chuckle. 

Chuuya was watching you with amusement in his blue orbs. 

He looked at you as though you were an exotic animal that never ceased to amaze him, his focus more on you than the glass he absentmindedly twirled between his bare fingers. You paused mid-sip, gaze locked onto his digits and how much smaller they looked without his usual leather gloves. 

Less brutal. 

How many times had you begged him not to wear those soiled gloves around you, not to touch you with the bloodied leather- and how many times did he ignore your request?  

So what changed?

“But we’re not here to talk about me, sweetheart.” 

You choked on the wine, and your attention instantly returned to those icy blues. “W-we aren’t?” You feigned ignorance. “Then what are we talking about?” 

Stop with the games, Chuuya; you’re not Dazai, no matter how much you try. 

“No, sweetheart. We’re talking about you.” Chuuya set the glass on the counter, moved over to you, and grasped your chin with his slightly damp, ice-cold hand. “When were you going to tell me the time the chores took? If I knew they took all day, I’d have…” Chuuya cut himself off with a quiet curse and dropped his head on your shoulder; a heavy sigh escaped his lips. “I’m sorry.” the words were short, curt, accompanied by ‘apologetic’ hot open mouth kisses on your skin. 

Oh.

“Chuu I’ve been out all morning; I’m icky” You shrugged the shoulder he leaned on in a motion ‘off’. The familiar ‘im tired, maybe later’ excuse played on the tip of your tongue. But Chuuya beat you to it. 

“I’ve run us a bath, bubbles and all.” He leaned back and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The barely there sweetness of wine on his breath felt suffocating, almost as suffocating as the look in his eyes. “It’s ready, and I’ll help clean you up; you just lay back and relax, hmm?” 

Just lay back like a good girl and take it, you mean?  

“ I appreciate it, I-” Your voice was cut off as your body grew light; the faint red hue surrounded you and lifted you off the ground. You let out a yelp- the only sound you could manage against his gravity manipulation. Your heart hammered in your chest, and your mouth went dry as he took you to the bathroom. You muffled a scream as his hands practically ripped off your outerwear. Your underwear followed off you even quicker. 

Please Chuuya. Not right now.

You closed your eyes as you heard the unmistakable shift of his clothing. A moment later, he got into the bath first, then lowered you to sit between his legs, and his hands rested firmly on your tense shoulders. His ability faded, but not his fingers, which set onto a slow and sensual massage over your skin, your back, and neck, then moved to dance over your ribcage.

 “I want to make it up to you for all those chores,” Chuuya mumbled, his digits ghosting over your nipples, rolling the hardened buds between his thumb and forefinger. Then he took them in his palms, groping and ‘massaging’ your tits.” For being an ass and not seeing how goddamn many there were, sweets” One of his hands left your tits and shifted lower, skimmed over your stomach and settled on massaging your inner thigh.

 “ Can I show you how much I appreciate what you do, sweetheart-” he purred, trailing kisses from your hair, down the side of your face and to your ear.

-You could do that by getting your hands off - 

“- Also I’ve hired a maid” 

Your head snapped to look at him over your shoulder, mouth opened and closed like a fish as you stared at his self-satisfied grin. The confident kind that said he had it all figured out. “You.. hired a maid?” 

“Don’t look so surprised, babydoll” Chuuya kissed the corner of your lips. “This way, you’ll get time away from the chores and focus on us.” his hand slipped and began massaging your inner thigh. His intentions were so painfully clear, his words so painfully obvious; was it even a ‘choice’ at this point? 

You mean you hired a maid to handle the ‘boring’ chores, so that one chore could return to the top of your list? 

Yet, you bit back your anger and frustration, understood and accepted your position as ‘trapped’ and ‘powerless’ in the unbalanced power dynamic between you owing nothing and your boyfriend owning everything. Understood that the luxury around you- and ultimately your life- relied on one key thing. 

Be smart or you’ll end up like his ‘stuck up’ subordinates.

Reluctantly, you spread your legs for his eager hands and leaned back against his chest as he showered your skin and bites and kisses. Suppressed a shudder at the obscene purr of “I can’t wait to make you feel good puppy, to fill you right up to the brim” and faked a moan as his fingers pushed right in. 

Nakahara may have put ‘sex’ back onto your daily list of chores, and you’d be forced to follow through with it like a ‘good girlfriend.’

For now.

Author note: This fic is a loosely connected continuation to a List Of Chores- and was supposed to come out a lot sooner but life got in the way.. oh well..

For those who didn’t think this fic was dark enough, try viewing the entire situation from Chuuya’s perspective. I dare you. 

Main |Raven|Rules & Requests |Masterlist | Cred & Other 

All fics are unique works by © miss-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[imahinatjon]

How it feels to be ignored PT1

Dazai & Chuuya ⛈️

In which they ignore you and it reveals some problems with your relationship

Part 2

Dazai

Its been over 24 hours now and he hasn't texted you back. You know he's okay because he's been online and he's seen your message - that and you asked Yosano to make sure he hadn't successfully died or something.

But nope, he's fine.

You don't think he did it on purpose, probably just quickly checked your message made a mental note to check it later, which he subsequently forgot about. Still, it hurts.

It also has you thinking. You've been in a relationship with this man since he was in the Mafia. You never were part of the Mafia, just someone he met during his time there, and someone he got into a relationship with.

Even when he ran away from the Mafia he kept things going with you, and even now he's part of the armed detective agency, he's still going with you, and you love him more than ever now. But it just doesn't feel the same.

You don't want to hog all his attention, but it somehow feels that he gives you even less attention now than he used too. He forgets about you often, doesn't reply to your messages, forgets that he agreed to come over, forgets when he's arranged to meet you.

You always message Yosano to ask if he's still there or if she knows where he is 30 minutes after the arranged time for your dates, and come to learn that he's perfectly fine, just caught up doing other things.

You just feel... left behind. Like your part of his past that he's slowly letting go of as he gets on with his new life. Just another thing for him to leave and forget about.

You even briefly wonder if there's someone else, but you trust him enough to not be like that.

It does little to provide you any relief though.

You can't take it anymore.

--------

It's been 2 weeks since he last saw you, your last date having been a quick walk through the park - which was nice, but... it didn't change your mind.

You decided not to arrange any plans with him after that, and wait for him to arrange with you. But he didn't. And so now? You head into the ADA office, ready to break up with him. Preferably not infront of all his coworkers, you will of course ask to talk in private.

Alas, he isn't there. Ranpo and Yosano are present in the office, talking by the formers desk, they catch sight of you by the door, both giving you a sympathetic look. Yosano knows what your here too do, and ranpo being - well, ranpo, you assume he knows too.

"He's out at the moment. You just missed him" yosano tells you.

"Oh..."

"You could... write a letter and leave it here? We'll make sure to give it to him"

"I... okay"

You reluctantly agree and yosano gives you everything you need to begin, even Pulling out a chair so you can sit at one of the current vacant desks to write.

And with the detective and doctor looking over your shoulder, you begin your letter.

"Dazai..."

Chuuya

Chuuya didn't usually ignore you, so when he did, you didn't worry too much. At least until it had passed 1 day mark, then you worried a little - you knew the nature of what he did, but also knew he could handle himself.

Still, it concerned you a little when you sent him a message on a day you knew he had no work and he still hadn't replied to you a day and a half later.

Now, you weren't an idiot, and knew what this was probably about - his work. He'd voiced his concerns before, at the start of your relationship, and again during - he's worried about your safety. It's why he rarely ignored your messages and even checked in with you often, he cares, a lot. That just happens to mean he also worries a lot too.

And he does this sometimes. Just stops replying to your messages, hoping you'll drift away and leave him - find someone new and much less dangerous. In the end he usually came back, apologising and telling you about how worried he was feeling and what his intentions were. And fine, sure... but, it had been upsetting you over and over for a while so whatever his reason was rendered pointless now - hell, shouldn't have even been a reason in the first place, it was a shitty thing to do. You know it, he knows it, even the clerk in the coffee shop you frequent knows it - she's been telling you to just do it and break up with him for ages "since that's what he so desperately wants"

She did clarify to you that she didn't mean that sincerely since he's proven time and time again that he doesn't want to break up with you, but she also said that you can't keep doing it. Can't be trapped in an endless cycle that was clearly impacting you more than you initially realised.

You listened to her, because of course you did, there was sense in what she was saying. He cared about you and you cared about him, but you needed to take care of yourself first and foremost - and staying around waiting for him to realise himself was not doing you any favors. It was an emotional rollercoaster.

And enough was enough.

So when he came back, it was the final time. On your doorstep in the rain, you told him it was over - just like he wanted.

You knew it was a lie, you knew that wasn't what he (or you) wanted, but you believed if to be for the best. You couldn't carry on.

And he accepted that. Played as though that's what he'd been waiting for this whole time. Bid you farewell and wished you luck in the future, before walking away, soaked in the rain.

Even if it made you feel a little bad, you didn't go chasing after him.

_________________________________________

My own boyfriend keeps forgetting to reply to me 🥲

I wrote this to feel better lol. Will check it at a later date for any errors and such.

[osachiyo]

˖ 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 ! — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai & jouno

𔘓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — n/sfw content (mdni), hurt + comfort, degradation, tit slapping, use of safe word, ooc in fyodor’s but idc let a girl dream, spanking, rough sex, face fucking, sadism, dacryphilia, toys, role-playing in jouno’s, overstimulation, reader doesn't actually use a safe word in chuuya's (its not possible with a mouthful of cock i promise), cunilingus, one of my only fics where fyodor isn't a toxic little shit so 🤷🏽‍♀️ ps. don't steal my headers !!

𔘓 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — here it is, the bsd version ! sorry for taking so long to finish this, there were some.. distractions 😓 i honestly did not expect this many people to request it *sob* anyways, happy reading and i hope ya'll enjoy ! NOT PROOFREAD !!

like this post? then view my masterlist for more !

“ ‘samu—!” You squealed, tugging on your boyfriend's hair as he moaned into your cunt, doing nothing but giving you more of that toe-curling pleasure.

"Mmh - don't interrupt my meal, darl'," he leaned back for some air only before spitting on your puffy cunt and driving back in. Large, bandaged hands were pushing your hips down on the bed to keep you in place— to let him have his favourite meal in peace, as he told you.

You couldn't recall how many times you came on his tongue— absolutely drenching his beautiful face with your juices, and he loved it. But you, on the other hand, were starting to get exhausted - no, you were exhausted, chest heaving as you tried to keep up with the hot coil in your lower tummy, threatening to snap any moment.

Dazai would know your limits if it were any other day - he'd know just when to stop, but today was exhausting for him too— and the entire day he was thinking of burying his face between his pretty little girlfriend's thighs - it never failed to melt all of his stress away and fuck did it work like a charm - all thoughts but the taste of your pretty cunt left his mind once he finally tasted you. Including the fact that you had your own limits and needed a break - no matter how pleasurable the feeling of his tongue felt against your swollen cunt— you needed a break.

You hesitantly moaned out the safe word, sinking into the mattress in exhaustion as you watch Dazai blink in confusion, before immediately pulling away from you. The bandaged hand that was previously pinning you down with fervor was now caressing your thigh gently.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?" He was calm, eyeing you for any sign of hurt or discomfort. You only shied away from his gaze, fingers fingers fiddling with the satin sheets as you shook your head - "no.. just tired, 'samu." He nodded, a pout gracing his lips - the pink muscle glossy from your combined slick and saliva, "aww, was that too much for my pretty baby?" You only rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his chest as he laughed, planting a kiss on your temple with a soft "I love you so much."

"I love you too," You giggled as Dazai buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the bruises he gave you earlier that night as an apology.

Chuuya had a rough day, his underlings being "fucking dumb and not getting shit right as usual," in his words. So like the good little girlfriend you were, you were generous enough to offer your hard working boyfriend some "stress relief".

That's how you ended up on your knees in front of the ginger haired man— who was still fully dressed, seated on the fancy black leather couch as you choked on his cock.

Loud growls and words of praise left his chapped lips in hurried curses, a gloved hand pushing your head down to take his cock in fully, basically making you deepthroat him. "God, pretty f-fuckin' girl, my good girl - such a good fuucking- argh—! fuckfuckfuck! Just like that baby, take this fuckin' cock.." He threw his head back against the headrest of the couch, hips now thrusting erratically up to your mouth, fat balls slapping against your chin as you gagged around him. Tears streaked freely down your stuffed cheeks, making him hiss out curses— fuck, you were such a pretty crier.

If he were only more focused and not drunk off of the pleasure of your warm and inviting mouth swallowing him whole, he'd notice your panicked whines, the way you dug your nails into the muscle of his thighs - scratching and trying to pull away from his cock, even slapping them in panic.

You couldn't breathe— you felt lightheaded and if Chuuya kept going, you'd surely faint from the lack of air.

As if right on cue, Chuuya finally remembered that you needed to breathe— hurriedly letting go of your hair and pulling you off his cock, his heart broke once he saw you coughing and sputtering on the floor, your face scrunched up in pain as air finally entered your lungs.

"Shit— doll, are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby," he sounded genuinely guilty, and he was! He'd never want to actually hurt you unless you asked for it, and he felt so fucking bad. You nodded in response, leaning your head against his thigh as you finally breathed normally— tears, snot, drool and his precum dripping down your chin.

" 'm sorry for ruining this, Chuu. I know today was stressfu—" Chuuya cut you off with a click of his tongue, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown gracing his pretty lips, "What're you talking 'bout, baby? You didn't ruin anything," he sighed, "c'mere."

He put his hands under your arms before tugging you up in his lap, gently wiping your face with his gloved hands before pressing sweet kisses on your whole face while whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves you— how good you are for him. The ticklish feeling of his kisses made you giggle— sounding like sweet music to his ears.

After all, no matter how much he likes to see you crying and sniffling for him, he'd always prefer your adorable little giggles.

"Slap!"

You choked out a moan at the harsh impact of your husband's hand cracking down on your ass— his hand gently rubbed the heated skin as an apology, but you knew it was only a facade. "How many was that, dear?" He mused, tone nothing but unkind and condescending. It make you feel small, and ashamed— but you also couldn't deny the way your pussy gushed out more and more slick with each hit— and he made sure to belittle you for it.

"T-twenty six?" You stuttered, thighs twitching in anticipation as Fyodor ran a slim finger up and down your soaked folds, collecting the slick on his finger before shoving it inside.

"Mmh—! Fedya p-please.." You begged, which inly made him grin devilishly— god, he was so handsome. "Please what? You have to be more specific than that," he muttered as he shoved a second finger in your drooling cunt— his free hand kneading the battered skin of your ass but you could care less about the sting.

"P-please! Make me cum—!" You gasped when another brutal smack was landed on your poor ass, the soft fat rippling as his hand met your skin. "And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" His voice grew stern. You flinched when he flipped you on your back, basically throwing you on the pristine white mattress of your shared bed.

You landed on the bed with a soft "oof!", it wasn't long before Fyodor joined you in bed, basically ripping your cute little babydoll dress off of you as greedy hands cupped your tits, his gaze ferocious— you've never seen him like this. "You're such a naughty girl, aren't you?" He growled— kicking your legs apart to nudge a knee between them - against your bare, sopping cunt. "Fedya—" You got cut off by your own pained yelp as Fyodor tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking your head back to reveal your throat— the soft and sensitive skin just begging him to bite it - mark you up as his.

"Hush now, slut." He scoffed, harshly biting down on the column of your throat— as you let out a pained gasp. It hurt like hell.

You don't know what happened but you didn't like this anymore, you didn’t want to be treated roughly anymore, didn’t wanna be called mean names— you weren’t even processing the harsh words coming out of his mouth, you just wanted it to stop.

“Red, S-stop— red!” You whimpered, sniffling as Fyodor’s movements came to a halt. He let go of his tight grip on your hair— instead gently scooping you up in his arms and cradling you, hushing your little whines.

He silently scanned you before saying anything, dry lips pulled into a frown. You certainly didn’t look hurt… was it something he said? “What happened, darling?” He questioned, voice calm and soothing— a contrast to your own broken one. “Too rough,” you pouted up at him, burying your face further in his chest.

Oh.

“I’m sorry, love. I should’ve been gentler, huh?” He brushed a stray hair from your face, before gently massaging your scalp— easing the burn from him pulling it earlier. “ ‘s okay, fedya,” you sighed, he was so good with his fingers (in more ways than one).

“I love you, dear,” kissing the crown of your head, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I love you too!” You smiled back. A moment of silence passed as you stayed in his embrace, before speaking up again,

“You’re doing the dishes tonight, by the way.”

“…Fair enough.”

"You're so cute when you get like this," Nikolai cooed, voice drowned out by the sound of his hips smacking against your ass. He had you in a full nelson, your back flush against his chest, strong arms hooked under your knees to hold you up in the air as he thrusted into the warmth of your spasming cunt. "Ngh— 's too much - kolya—" you slurred, head falling back against his shoulder. God, his stamina was no fucking joke— you thought, jaw unhinged as you let out wanton moans. His thighs were absolutely drenched with a nasty mixture of your slick and his cum from the previous rounds— making a "pap! pap! pap!" noise everytime they met your ass. The whole thing was dirty, messy and so fucking lewd— his favorite combination.

"Oh hush now— you say it's too much but—" he gave a mean slap to your bouncing tits, making you squeal and kick your legs at the pained pleasure. "You're just gushing all over me— how am I supposed to believe it's too much for you, hm, dove?" His breath was hot against your ear, making you shudder— "ca— can't! please!" You sobbed, but your tears did nothing more but get him more fired up - shit, you looked the prettiest when you cried.

But the thing is— you actually weren't lying, it was really getting too much for you. But apparently Nikolai was too pussy drunk to recognize the exhaustion on your face. He was going too fast - too hard, you could barely process anything he was saying or even think straight. It was practically a miracle that you even remembered your safe word— "c-clown— clown!!"

It took Kolya some time to process the words falling out of your mouth— brutal thrusts coming to a halt as soon as he realized you just said your safe word out loud. As much as he wanted to ask you what was wrong, he knew he had to place you somewhere comfortable first - make sure you're doing okay. He gently pulled out of you with a wet 'pop!', hissing as your tight walls kept clinging onto him.

Being as soft and gentle as possible, he unhooked his arm from under your knees, flipping you to carry you bridal style - before placing you down on the bed and kneeling in front of you.

"Are you okay, pretty?" His voice was soft— a surprising contrast to how he was manhandling you just seconds before. You nodded, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks, which he gently wiped for you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he pouted - brushing some stray hair out of your face and planting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. " 'm okay," you rasped, cringing at the way your voice cracked. Nikolai nodded, getting up and quickly getting a glass of water for you.

You gratefully took the glass from him, the cool water immediately calming your burning throat. "Are you hurt anywhere, baby?" He questioned, taking the empty glass from you, before placing it on the nightstand. You shook your head, "no, jus' tired, is all."

"So does that mean we can continue late—"

"Kolya!"

“Well, aren’t you just pathetic?” Jouno grinned, holding the wand vibrator against your clit while pumping the bright pink dildo in and out of you, making you squeal and kick your legs— hips bucking up to meet the toys.

“Please, officer— wanna cum s’ bad!” You sobbed, wrists straining against the leather restraints he had put on you. Jouno hummed, his hand speeding up, thrusting the toy even harder and faster in and out— as he rubbed the wand in circles on your throbbing clit.

“Oh, I bet you do— but, I don’t know if you deserve it yet..” he had a faux pout of his face, pressing the vibrator even firmer against your nub - making you see stars.

He had been at this for hours— getting you so close to reaching your peak before cruelly ripping it away from your grasp, only giving you fragment of the mind-numbing pleasure that you so desperately wanted to feel— and let’s not forget about the mean, degrading words falling from his lips - calling you a worthless slut, who’s only purpose is for his pleasure and his pleasure only. You felt like slapping the cocky grin off his face.

It didn’t feel good for you anymore— instead made you feel terrible, really. The continuous edging with the cruel words took a greater toll on you than both of you had imagined, which led you to eventually sob out the safe word.

Jouno stopped immediately after you blurted out the safe word, quickly but calmly pulling the dildo out of you before removing the wand, placing both of the toys on a nearby table.

He went over to unclasp your restraints, heart tugging at the way you sniffled and hiccuped— fuck, he took it too far.

A frown graced his lips once he felt the marks on your wrists from pulling at the restraints for so long— but before anything else, he had to make sure you’re okay. After all, your safety is the most important to him.

“Are you alright, darling?” He leaned closer, pulling off his slick-coated glasses and chucking them somewhere— wiping your tear soaked cheeks with his now clean hands. You let out a pitiful whimper before nodding, “ you’re too mean and— i still.. w-wanna cum..”

Jouno’s lips quirked up to reveal a cocky smirk— but he couldn’t be more relieved that you were okay - not that he’d ever show it. “Of course, pretty girl— my little crybaby wants to be treated nicely, hm?” He grinned, hand reaching down to flick at your nipple.

“Don’t tease!” You whined, but you still couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Okay, okay— I’ll treat you like the princess you are,” He snickered, kissing the top of your head before picking you up— taking you to the bed to take you like he had been aching to all this time.

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

[hetn-3]

How dazai and chuuya take care of you when you get sorted

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Dazai x Reader: Unexpected Tenderness

A dull pain twisted in your abdomen, and you felt exhausted, curled up under your blanket. The world seemed a bit darker and less welcoming during this time of the month. However, the door to your apartment opened softly, revealing a familiar figure.

“Oh my, my poor love is suffering, aren’t they?” came Dazai’s playful voice as he slipped into the room.

You sighed quietly, the fatigue and discomfort making it hard to engage with his usual teasing. He approached the bed, still smiling mischievously, but you could see a gentler glint in his eyes. He knew this wasn’t the time for his typical antics.

“Dazai… I’m not in the mood today,” you mumbled, turning to face him.

Dazai sat gently beside you, his expression softening. “I know, I know,” he said, running a hand tenderly through your hair, his fingers gliding down the strands. “That’s why I’m here.”

You looked at him, surprised. Dazai Osamu, the master of chaos and pranks, was here for you. He pulled out a small paper bag he had brought along. “I made a stop at the store for you. Chocolate, chips, and... oh, look at this, your favorite tea to help with the pain.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. He knew exactly what you needed. He had taken the time to choose things you liked, which was rare for someone like Dazai, who often seemed lost in his own world.

“Come here,” he murmured, gently pulling you into his arms, guiding you to rest against him. “Let me take care of you today.”

Dazai started to massage your belly lightly, his hands surprisingly skilled, knowing just where to apply soft pressure to ease the cramps. Between his care and his warm presence, you finally felt a bit of relief.

“You know, when someone’s hurting, it’s the perfect time for cuddles,” he added with a wink before planting a light kiss on your forehead. You felt yourself relaxing in his embrace, enjoying this unexpected moment of tenderness.

Chuuya x Reader: Comfort and Protection

The sound of Chuuya’s heels echoed in the apartment as he approached you. You were curled up on the couch, clutching a heating pad to your stomach, fighting terrible cramps. He quickly figured out what was going on the moment he saw you so uncomfortable.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me,” he said softly, placing his coat on a chair before kneeling down beside you.

“I didn’t want to worry you, it’s just… a bad day,” you replied, wincing from the pain.

Chuuya frowned, clearly displeased that you had hidden your discomfort. He stood up quickly and disappeared into the kitchen without saying a word. A few moments later, you heard the sound of water boiling. He returned with a cup of chamomile tea and some painkillers to help ease your cramps.

“Drink this,” he said gently, but with a certain firmness in his voice, as though it was an order. “It’ll help you relax.”

You took the cup with a soft smile. “Thank you, Chuuya.”

He nodded, but his expression remained serious. He hated seeing you in pain, and he was determined to do everything he could to make you feel better. He sat down beside you and gently pulled you into his arms, adjusting a pillow beneath your head.

“Let me take care of you, okay?” he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair softly.

His warmth and strength instantly made you feel safer. Chuuya was always so protective, especially in moments like this. Holding you close, his arms wrapped around you, he gently pressed you against him, as if wanting to shield you from all discomfort.

“If you need anything, you tell me, got it?” he added, his lips brushing the top of your head. “I want you to feel okay.”

His tone was firm but filled with affection. He pulled an extra blanket over you and turned on the TV to distract you, all while keeping you close, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back.

With Chuuya, you always felt secure and protected. Even during uncomfortable times like this, he was there, looking after you with an almost possessive, yet loving, attention. You closed your eyes, reassured by his presence, and slowly let yourself relax in the warmth of his embrace.

[silawastaken]

do you ever think about the night that dazai and chuuya realised they had been missing each other longer than they'd known each other?

At some point, between the three and four year mark of Dazai leaving the PM, they both had a moment where they realised how long it had actually been. They realised why something in their life wasn't quite right despite the grief having mostly worn off.

For Chuuya, it was in the evening. He's a busy person, when he learned Dazai defected he resolved not to think about it while working. Dazai no longer had a face or a name. The clinical detachment he used to loathe and simultaneously envy Dazai for became the only thing that stopped him from having a breakdown every time something he needed to work on because of the former demon prodigy crossed his desk. It was the only thing he could ever replicate Dazai's carelessness towards.

Then, he gets home from work after a particularly long day and has to resist the urge to crash into his bed fully clothed. He takes his time and goes through the motions, relaxing and getting ready for bed until he crashes onto his couch and can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he doesn't have any more work to do.

Then, he sees something. Maybe he's looking for something to watch and sees a particular movie or show, maybe he's scrolling through social media and sees a brunette with brown eyes, maybe it's a flower or a constellation but he's reminded of Dazai.

Something uncomfortably close to hurt and grief fills his chest, and unwillingly, his eyes flick to the date, and his brain reminds him that Dazai would be 21 for a few months by now. Dazai was 18 when he left. Unbidden, he thinks about his and Dazai's 18th birthdays respectively, and the chaos they cause. He has to force himself to not dream about what they could have done for his 21st. What they could do for his 22nd. He gets up for a bottle of wine and a glass.

For Dazai, it was slightly different. He had more time to process, during his years alone while waiting out the clearing of his criminal record, a few weeks at a time in a foreign country under a fake name, he had all the time to mope around. His daydreaming of what things he could have changed was endless, he spent day after day rebuilding worlds in his head where he returned to Yokohama to break into Chuuya's apartment and drag him to france, or russia or america, anywhere as long as he was there.

So, it was a mistake he hadn't made in a long time, following along behind his chattering coworkers with his hands in his pockets, smiling and joking until he passed something he hadn't seen before in a spot he used to visit, and ran over to check it out, turning back around with an excited "Chuuya, look!" only to be met with empty air and his coworkers slightly further down the street from when he ran away.

For a few moments, he just stares at the empty spot where he expected Chuuya to be, where he should have been, an ache in his chest making itself known again, the hole which had temporarily been filled with new faces and names widening to recreate the gap where Chuuya once was. (That little hole in his heart was much too big, Dazai thought, since Chuuya was so tiny. The joke he attempted to make to himself only made it hurt worse.)

When he returned to his coworkers it wasn't quite with the same enthusiasm before. That night was spent with a bottle of sake and a small collection of old photos, dates all over three years prior.

Neither bring it up, but there's a small sense of relief when they come face to face in a port mafia basement, that they can make up for the fourth year, that they have the chance to know each other longer than they missed each other again.