#bsd spicy

[justcallmesakira]

PORT MAFIA RANPO WHO... {2}

Sypnosis:

PM! Ranpo x reader

Warnings: guns, established relationship, gets suggestive, lovebites, implied smut, reader is a bit shy and timid type (not like y/n tho1)

Genre: romance, suggestive

A/N: back with pt 2 guys!!! i litterly have 0 motivation to do this shit but welp I LOVE PM RAN- wait no nononononon i hate ranpo i hate him he sucks !! stop it sakira you cant simp for him AAAAAAAAAHG

Port mafia ranpo who confessed to you just when the agency got in trouble so he gets to spend more time with you and the agency gets in trouble too, he barely cares about them, the only thing he wants to lay victory on is you

Port mafia ranpo who sends you buckets of sugary sweets and bouqets of dark red carnations to remind you that a floret of a deep shade of crimson symolizes posession

Port mafia ranpo who makes sure whoever hurted you or hurts you in the future in any way gest to know just what torturous things the great executive can do

Port mafia ranpo who only giggles when his subcordinates stare at the separate box of candy on his table which has a certain ada member`s intial on it

Port mafia ranpo who will soon enough gaslight you into moving in with him because it keeps you much closer to him! Cant let his treat astray to the dogs

Port mafia ranpo who shamelessly flirts with you on the gatherings of the pm and ada even when you try pushing him away to let everyone know what both of you are he doesnt care about the conflict which could happen at all

Port mafia ranpo who is a lot intense than he acts, just because he always acts cheeky and all doesnt mean he is any less powerful

Port mafia ranpo who calls you to his office in the middle of the day and makes you sit on his lap as he working, He just loves to see you squirm because of him!

Port mafia ranpo who always has an eye for you so when you tried to take a glance at what his working on he simply write on the piece of paper "My eyes are over here sweetheart" which instantly shakens you up

Port mafia ranpo who loves making you flustered in every way possible! whether its a hickey or a lovebite, or just a penthouse! He knows every thing you like. And i mean everything

Port mafia ranpo who intentionally marks you on places where it is obvious to see so everyone knows who you belong to what? he cant eat his own candy now?

Port mafia ranpo whos extremley rough in bed especially after a long day of handling idiots, so dont be surprised if you cant walk tommorow!

Port mafia ranpo who will make shifts and mistakes in your routine so he can appear wherever you are and call it concidence he just wants to spend time with his lovely little candy

A.N: hopeyallranposmpsenjoyedthiscrap

Tags!: @terururuko @typcallysid14 @little-miss-chaoss @biscuits-spooky-corner

Divider crds!: @cafekitsune

[sableeira]

sure ango may have betrayed every organization under the sun but tachihara put in the effort to build up the perfect stereotypical gangstersona and act his silly little heart out for the perfect plot twist so we all know who deserves the award for best port mafia betrayal

[raiain]

stankers

[themellowminx]

After the Fire Dies ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ MDNI

———-> fyodor x reader x dazai

You made a mistake, how will you repent?

< After the actual smut, but still suggestive content, not proof read >

“S-seven…” You could hardly feel anymore, sweat clung to your body and your breaths came in panting gasps, all you could think about was how bad you had fucked up, was that really only a few hours ago? When Dazai was holding you so tightly, gripping you in all the right places. But now, your blood dripped from the slim slashes across your thighs and stained the white bedsheets, you struggled against your restraints, straining your arm to push the silky, black, blindfold off your eyes.

“So, malishka,” You could hear the grin in his smooth voice as he teased you with that special pet name, baby, not slut, or whore, but baby. He knew you’d get it wrong. You were almost certain that even if you did guess right, they wouldn't stop. “Who was touching you just now? Who made you cum?” Sucking in as much air as possible, limbs heavy, nose stuffed and tears streaked your poor, flushed face.

“You–Fedya.” A self-satisfied hmm came from one of them, you guess Dazai by the tone. Instantly you regretted your decision. ‘Wait–actually–”

“Too late, you already made a choice.” Dazai was speaking now, his voice lacked the accent that you loved so much, but still carried such a lustful melody. Suddenly the blindfold was slowly peeled off and you squinted your tear-filled eyes to the destroyed bedroom. Frantically looking at your lover, Fyodor, for approval, you were met with both men smirking down at you. So pretty. They were both so beautiful, where Fedya was slim angles and sharp bones, pale skin and striking, sharp eyes, Dazai was stronger, softer, still lean but bigger, not as deathly-pale and a mop of curly brown hair with matching honey eyes. They made a lovely pair, and had ruined you beyond comprehension.

“Ding ding ding!” Dazai sang out, hopping on the bed next to you.

“Good job malishka, how’d you know?” You guessed correctly? Finally! Honestly part of it was dumb luck but…

“You get…when you get tired you get softer, and you also kept licking the blood from my thighs, I figured Dazai would do that too but he’s inclined to be more–well–rough.” You looked down sheepishly. Fyodor pat your head and undid the restraints on your wrists and ankles, now you realized just how exposed you had been. A puddle of liquid, cum and spit and sweat and blood, was layered on every inch of your skin. Both of them started peppering kisses along your flesh, prickled with chills yet still overheated, a kiss to the collarbone by one man, a peck in between your breasts from another, they continued and Fyodor eventually went to fetch a warm cloth.

“What did we learn malishka?” Fyodor asked you later that night, Dazai in deep-sleep on the other side of the bed, still in the aftershock of their tortuous play-time, you trembled slightly against Fyodor's bare chest.

“I’m never going to sleep with another person–”

“No, say it exactly.”

“I-I am never going to cheat on you…” You looked back up at him for guidance.

“With Dazai,” He guided your words.

“Cheat on you with Dazai, or anyone else, ever again. I only want–need–you, Fedya.” He hummed at your confession. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” He replied simply, and you drifted off into sleep, body aching and face tear-stained and salty, still naked, but warm and so, so full

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ thx for reading! :)

[narrators-journal]

For the Lovecraft ask can we add breeding kink and squirting and maybe size kink and belly bulge

Also maybe reader is his wife and she’s turned on by him

I just kinda went wild with your prompt ngl. Lovecraft is still reader’s husband, and she’s still turned on by him! But I wrote this less as a bsd-exclusive kinktober-style fic, and leaned into the monsterfucking aspect to just GO HAM on the tentacles and monster angle. So yes, this is Lovecraft x reader, but it’s also kinda able to be read as a general monster smut. Which, was fun to write! Sorry if I went a bit light on some things, or it’s not quite to your liking on the details, this is sort of my toe back in the water after kinktober.

Thankfully it’s not as bad as last year, but ya still gotta give yourself some leniency after a challenge, y’know?

CW: teratophilia, sacrificing, tentacles, possible oviposition? U can kinda ignore that tbh, but it’s there. Breeding kink is lightly impied, size difference is also implied, squirting

It was an ancient, possibly outdated tradition, to sacrifice women to a god in exchange for a good harvest. Yet, ever since you could remember, each spring had been marked by the offering of a fertile woman to the god of the sea your town relied on. Normally, said woman was on the younger side, around eighteen to twenty for the best fertility chances, but your grandmother had always warned you that standards were likely to change. So, as you bathed and mentally prepared for whatever happened to the sacrificial brides of your god, you weren’t surprised at your position.

You weren’t a virgin, nor were you eighteen, or even twenty, in fact, you’d gotten married before you had been chosen to be this year’s sacrifice. Yet, there you were. Your hands being tied behind your back by your husband before you were walked down to the beach, nude, to await your new ‘husband’.

Like any other sacrifice to your town’s god, you had been tied to the edge of the dock. Your hands bound behind you, your foot tied firmly to one of the sturdy supports. So, all you could really do was sit on the rough wood of the water-warped platform and listen to the waves lazily lapping at the sand beneath the dark, star-speckled night sky.

However, it wasn’t more than two hours max before you first spotted an odd, slow movement in the water. Too slow for it to be some sort of person, but too big to be a fish. It’s okay, You told yourself as you watched the form approach and sink into the glittering soup before you, Brides don’t always turn up dead. It’ll probably be okay, no matter what happens.

With that, you took a deep breath to calm the knot of anxiety that formed in your chest. Yet,when you felt the cold, watery slime of a tentacle’s smooth skin against your own, you still jumped and attempted to scramble away. Yet, there was little you could do beyond scoot as far from the edge of the dock as your tether allowed. Not that your nerves did much to dissuade more green tentacles from rising out of the water to snake around your ankles and wrists, or around your waist to trap you in place. To hold you hostage while more tentacles emerged from the cool sea water to explore your nude body. It was disgusting.

Yet, at the same time, it was thrilling.

Ever since you were little, you had heard tales and rumors about all of the many things that might happen to the ‘brides’ your town offered to the sea god in exchange for the plentiful fish, including the exact situation you now sat in. But, in those past years until your own eighteenth birthday had passed, some part of you had always feared the possibility of becoming the sea god’s bride.

However, when you’d passed eighteen and gotten married, that fear had gone dormant. But, it hadn’t left completely. After all, how could a woman ever put to rest the anxiety of being one bad flu season away from being chosen to risk being torn to shreds or split in half?

Only to find, that the slow slide of tentacles, and the gentle kisses of their suction cups against your nipples or the tender skin of your inner thigh didn’t disgust or scare you as much as you had expected. Instead, they excited you.

Even when a rather meaty tentacle slipped between your legs to prod at your dampening cunt, the pressure of it against your folds sent lightning through your blood, and the stretch of it pushing into you was enough to wipe away the fears and earn a lewd noise. And while yes, you weren’t a virgin, as hardships had left sacrificial options too slim to offer an eighteen-year-old woman and ensure something like that, there was simply something far more exciting than your human husband could achieve.

Yet, that didn’t keep the tentacle from settling deep within you, creating a bit of a bulge in your belly while your muscles twitched and stretched to accommodate the growing girth of the appendage within you. Nor, did it stop the tentacle when it began to move.

In. Out. In. Out. The tentacle’s movements within you were slow. Curious, almost. The odd, slick appendage somehow able to brush against and find each of your sweet spots as it pushed deeper into you to explore every inch of your gummy walls. And, while the monster you had been sacrificed to didn’t seem interested in your pleasure, the tentacle’s slow, thorough thrusts and flexes still managed to draw lewd moans out into the warm night’s air. Oh god, why does this feel so good? You managed to think while your back arched off of the rough wood of the dock you laid on into the inquisitive caress and attention of the tentacles that still squeezed and toyed with your breasts. Feeding the fire in your veins that you tried to ignore, even as the more primal, needy part of you begged, More. More! I feel too good. I need more! In a shameful plea for that pleasure to continue to be indulged.

And, as if the god had read those deep, lust-addled thoughts, the tentacles that snaked around your breasts and toyed with your nipples squeezed your mounds and the thicker tendril that stretched your cunt so deliciously flexed against that special spot within you. Pulling another, louder cry of desire from your throat with the force of the lightning it sent hurdling through you. Yet, even as your blood screamed with need, and the chill of the water-cooled tentacles that held your wrists and legs down were the only things keeping your small body from combusting, your new husband kept going. “Hah! W-wait! Hold on!”You begged into the spring night’s air, able to feel the tell-tale tightening of your muscles with each brush of that thick tendril against your g-spot. “I-I’m gonna- ngh!- going to c-cum! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed, no longer scared of your fellow townsfolk hearing your blissful calls over the waves when your euphoria crashed down upon you with such force that your juices squirted out slightly.

Though, your pleasure didn’t end with the deviant pleasure. You merely got a brief break from the friction, as the tentacle that sat buried in you stilled to let you stare up into the colorful night sky and catch your breath. And, for a second, you thought your monster husband had somehow sensed that you had orgasmed and was going to stop or at least pause their movements. However, the tentacle only paused for a moment, before you felt the already thick girth of the tendril move more within you.

Not to continue fucking into your twitching entrance, though, but to push something into you. The...egg? Capable of being felt as it slid down the length of the tentacle to settle into your womb. Followed quickly by more and more masses being pumped into your belly to the point that your belly began to look bloated. Not that you minded, though. You simply laid on the dock, listening to the waves lap against the supports beneath you while the tentacles kept hold of your limbs until your monstrous husband was satisfied with how plump your belly had gotten. Only then, did those strong tendrils finally release you to lay on the dock beneath the stars. Exhausted, slimy, and bred.

[osachiyo]

✾ PUNISHMENT ✾

☆Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem! Reader☆

↝ CW! 《 Nsfw, hair pulling, fingering, Fyodor being a menace, dom/sub dynamics, reader is absolutely whipped for Fyodor, spanking, office sex, fellatio, shoe humping, slight voyeurism, breathplay, orgasm denial, cowgirl, petnames, degradation etc 》

↝WORD COUNT! 1,774

You were currently in Fyodor's office, under his desk with his leaking cock in your mouth and you being so fucking wet. You felt his hand on the back of your head, guiding your movements. Letting you know that even if you're the one sucking him off, he's the one in control. You pull back for a moment, gasping for air then diving back onto his cock. You lick his flushed tip and run your tongue against his slit. The action makes his breath hitch and grip onto your head a little harder, almost grabbing you by your hair but he figures he should control himself a little more.

"Mmph?!" You make a muffled noise, mouth still full of cock when Fyodor presses his shoe against your soaked cunt. You just know he has a smirk on his beautiful face right now and the thought just somehow makes you wetter. You start humping against his shoe now, your slick coating the expensive material. Loud slurps and your cute little whimpers could be heard throughout the room. Luckily no one was there to hea-

The door slams open, Nikolai coming in the room. "Fedya!" He exclaims, his teasing grin flashing at Fyodor. Fyodor sighs and leans forward, elbows resting on his desk as he questions why Nikolai had barged in the room. Nikolai shrugged and started talking about some stuff that you couldn't quite understand, as you were too distracted by Fyodor's shoe still grinding on your pussy. You want to tease him back but you know there will be consequences later if you do. But...unfortunately you were always a risk taker. You take a deep breath and..take his cock fully in your mouth, almost gagging as it hits the back of your throat.

"I see.. interesti- mm..!" Fyodor let's a grunt slip out at your actions, his cock throbbing and pulsing in your tight throat. He coughs a little at Nikolai's raised eyebrow. "I didn't know they had it in them," Fyodor says, clearing his throat. Nikolai continues talking as if nothing happened but Fyodor could see he had a mischievous glint in his eyes as his cunning grin grew wider. You knew that Nikolai knew something was up. You tried to smirk to yourself as best you could with cock shoved down your throat. You suddenly feel a hand grip your hair, tight. You went to pull away but he kept you there, Fyodor's cock still in your mouth. You could tell this was a warning for you to behave.

After a few moments, Nikolai got up to leave the room. He mentioned something about not interrupting Fyodor too much. Yeah, he definitely knew. Only a few seconds after Nikolai left the room, Fyodor leaned back and dragged you up by your hair. "Darling, I'm sure you know the consequences of your actions.." he says, licking his delicious lips. Oh how badly you wanted to kiss him. "Get on the table," he commands and you oblige happily, excited for what's to come.

It felt like hours since he had been plunging his slim fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. You thrashed around but he pinned your hip down, keeping you still. Every time you tried to close your legs, he slapped the inside of your thighs harshly, making you jolt and tear up from the addicting mix of pain and pleasure. "Keep still, dear. I know you're enjoying this so stop trying to run away," he mumbles close to your ear. He pulls his fingers out from your cunt, staring at the wetness with a smirk before pinching your clit, making you cry out. "Goodness, you're absolutely dripping," he says, smirking growing into in a wicked grin as he shoves his fingers in your gooey hole again while his thumb rubs over your clit. "Oh god! Fyodor y-yes! I'm about to-" you gasp as he pulls his fingers out the moment you were about to cum, cutting off your orgasm. Your tears finally flowing down your flushed cheeks as you whine and make grabby hands at Fyodor who is seemingly enjoying your misery. He hoists you up from the desk, sitting you down on it. "You really think you deserve to cum? After that little stunt you pulled? Darling, that was just the beginning of your punishment. Now, bend over the desk like a good little girl," he says, rubbing your cheek in an affectionate manner but his tone tells you clearly that he isn't too pleased with you.

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

You want to see him more riled up but you're getting impatient. You need to cum. So you do as you're told, moving his papers away and bending over the desk and sticking your ass out. You wiggle your hips a little to show him your desperation. Fyodor chuckles at your little display before moving closer to you. "Eager, aren't we?" He asks, with the same cunning smirk that you love as he presses his bulge against your sensitive pussy. You grip the table tighter and whimper in response. You're about to start begging for his cock when- 'smack!' The sound of his palm hitting your left cheek bounces off the walls, making you cry out at the sudden sting. "I want you to keep count, are we clear?" He chuckles and you nod, tears stinging your eyes again. He soothes over the spot where he hit before slapping it again, harder. You jolt and whine at the contact but his other hand keeps you still as you writhe in pain and arousal. He spreads your ass cheeks, eyeing the slick dripping down your pussy on the table. He sighs, scooping some of it on his fingers and tutting, "Are you perhaps enjoying this, honey? You are such a whore, aren't you? You like being hit and slapped around?" He says, in a degrading tone. You shiver at his degradation before nodding vigorously, "O-only for you, Fedya! Please-please-please, I need your cock in me!" You sob, making him rub over your ass affectionately. He seemed to like that response. "Hm..I suppose we could cut your punishment off short this time. But I promise you, this will not be a common occurrence," Fyodor says, finally complying to your request.

He pulls back and sits back on his chair. You get up and sit on his lap, so cute and obedient now. Your hands are resting on his chest as you hover over his bulge. He nuzzles his face into your neck and mumbles, "take off your shirt." You take your shirt off and chuck it somewhere across the room. You nipples harden at the cold air and you shiver. Fyodor pulls you even closer and takes your tit in his hand, his thumb running over your hardened nipples. You sigh and rest your head against his shoulder. He pinches and twists your bud between his fingers. You moan softly and go to grab onto his hair- 'smack!' He smacks your hand away with his own, "Don't get too ahead of yourself, милая." You sigh and grind slowly against his bulge, you can feel his dick twitching to be inside you. He leans his head back, revealing his delicious throat to you. You lean closer and suckle on his addams apple, he stays silent but you can feel his grip tightening on your hip. You reach between your bodies and palm his cock, feeling it twitch in your hand. You take it out from the confines of his pants and line it up to your entrance. You slowly sink down until he's fully inside of you, making the both of you shudder. You press your soft lips against his, he rubs his hand up and down your back as you kiss him slowly. He pulls back, "Go on, darling. Work for your orgasm," He says with his deep Russian accent. You start bouncing yourself on his cock, as he stares at your face contorting to one of pleasure. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, making his breath hitch with each bounce of your hips. His hands runs all over you, the dips of your hips to the swell of your breasts. He eventually gets impatient of your slow pace. I mean, of course he would. He had been resisting the urge to bend you over his desk and fucking into you roughly, face against the wood and ass smacking against his pelvis making an obscene sound each time his hips meet your perky behind. He eventually snaps out of his thoughts when you clench around him particularly tight. He grabs your hips, making you stop your ministrations and you look up at him confusedly. He holds you there for a few seconds before thrusting his hips into you hard. Your eyes widen and you let out a choked moan, nails digging into his shoulders. He keeps thrusting into you deeply but slowly and you love every second of it. After a few thrusts, Fyodor lifts you up his cock almost completely before slamming you back down on it, making you arch your back as you claw his still-clothed shoulder. He grunts in response, fingers digging deep into the swell of your plush hips, leaving his mark. Slamming you up and down on his swollen and angry cock, he leans in and starts leaving bite marks all over your collarbones. He reaches up to wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, which is still marked up from the last session you had with the Russian man. The action makes your eyes cross slightly and heightens your senses, making you more sensitive to his brutal but euphoric thrusts. Fyodor eventually feels like he's getting close. "Touch yourself for me, myshka," he says, voice filled with lust for you and you only. You oblige gladly, reaching down to rub your clit in fast circles and clenching around him tighter. After a few moments, his thrusts grow sloppy and rushed, letting you know that he's close and he knows you're close too. His fingers wrap around your throat tighter as he finally paints your inner walls white with a loud groan, coating it with his seed as he throws his head back. You cum shortly after, soaking his dick and expensive clothes in your sweet arousal. You're both panting heavily. He pulls you closer as you trace random shapes on his chest. Fyodor kisses your sweat-coated forehead, making you smile. "We should do this more often, Fedya," you say while wrapping your arms around him. "Sure but right now I am quite exhausted, любимая," he says with a breathy chuckle.

God, you absolutely loved this man.

↝NOTE! I love Fyodor so much omg so I hope I did him justice 😭 hope you guys enjoyed reading. Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

@luvyein

[antikr1sta]

smother me :)

two words: ear biting

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Asagiri really popped off when he named the first light novel Osamu Dazai’s Entrance Exam and then made the whole thing about Kunikida

[altruistic-meme]

another stupid chuuya headcanon where I give him my personal loser traits (with bonus dazai hc too):

hes absurdly shit at handling spicy food. he can't eat it for SHIT it hurts his mouth and is terribly unpleasant. he can and sometimes even will cry if he eats smth too spicy.

despite this he refuses to admit that he has a -10 spice tolerance and will still try and eat it bc he thinks not being able to tolerate spicy food makes him look like a wimp.

it is the one thing he and dazai actually agree on, though dazai's tolerance is somehow slightly worse than chuuya's. baby boy will think black pepper is spicy if there's too much of it.

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

[thewickedjazzy]

NOT even the apocalypse could stop me from cheering on Kinktober writers this month. y’all didn’t just write fics, you crafted literary thirst traps and I’m here for every bit of it!

sending all support and love to my fellow writers Xx.

[syunkiss]

i think they would be friends

[bealzebubs-blog]

Kinda inspired by "bedroom at the end of the universe" on Ao3

[anticidic]

*knock, knock*

A subtle head tilt, and a knowing smirk,

tease your audience in a way you haven't done so before.

"If you go out like that, everyone will know."

ONLY FOR THE STARS IN YOUR EYES

“Absolutely no one will know,” Dazai fired back, quick as gunshots.

Or so he said and believed. The person before him looked unsure, out of place—shifting weight from one foot to the other and averting eyes constantly to wood grain and a small towel hanging on a rack. Somehow, this was him: a pupil blown wide, one narrowed to a slit. However much he tried to will down that inhuman part of him, it stared back, fierce, unrelenting.

Almost petrifying.

He could not bear to look at the mirror for much longer. It housed subaquatic terrors worse than the sunken remains, capsized boats, and drowned notes in bottles that never found their chosen ones.

Was this how it felt for his victims? The breath stolen from their lungs, smelling of rotten fear—nerves badly strained. The heart trembling, fingers stiff from anxiety, and the fragments of their consciousness wandering, lost in the wilderness.

If he kept looking, he’d fall victim, too.

What if he just gave in? But then Chuuya would see for himself all the ugly truths Dazai covered up with pretty lies in his final moment as a look of horror crossed his features. And betrayal. For only monsters would go to great lengths to fool those around them. Dazai would never be human, and he couldn’t seem to accept that fact. If he could, he wouldn’t be here. They never would’ve met. Chuuya would be another face in the water of people ebbing and flowing on the surface, peering into the depths and dipping their toes in, but too fearful to take the plunge. As it was meant to be. And Dazai longed to return to the sea.

He would be free to love Yokohama like no one had ever loved Her. He would be Her champion, and She would be faithful to him. If he could just make this last sacrifice, he would finally know happiness.

All he had to do was open the door. But as he reached for the knob, his hand trembled.

The longer he stared at what he was supposed to be, he realized there was no recognition. Only the immensity of the sea, and the cold radiating from it. His eyes were not of this world, but of the same flickering lights of the ocean's bottom feeders, all scuttling across the floor. The bay's fireflies, and they all might as well be ancient insects to him.

Funny how Chuuya despised the looks of his hands and kept the universe safe from them with constant gloves. Because now Dazai’s hands looked even worse than his, with tiny cuts and gushes covering his skin like a spiderweb.

They exposed a scale.

“You can’t hide in there forever, Dazai.”

Chuuya’s voice sounded impossibly far away on the other side of the door. Frail, too. It contained a hint of worry for something he wouldn’t even be able to comprehend, and for that, Dazai pitied him. Pitied them—that it came to this.

Then, he heard a knock, more insistent. The knob rattled.

“You promised me a date, let’s go before the street vendors sell out of their food.”

Dazai looked away from the mirror and reached for the door.

[narrators-journal]

Kitsunebi

Fuck yeah! I actually like more than the concept or detail for this one! Of course, I’m not ENTIRELY the proudest, but that’s because I am rusty as hell with Soukoku QuQ. But hey! For once, I don’t feel like this is uncharacteristically awful work despite it not being Ryomina lol. And, I hope you enjoy it as well, dude. Sorry it took a bit. Also, forgive me if my info on kitsune/foxes is wrong, I did my best to google and read up on things.

EDIT: Admittedly, this one wasn’t in need of an edit because I disliked how it came out the first time. But, I decided to return to it regardless because I felt it came out a bit too short? I felt like I could still sprinkle in more detail, more focus on emersion, or something. I just felt something was MISSING to fill it out. So! I hope you enjoy the boost these bitches got, and I hope this’ll give my fans some assurance that I’m not devolving in skill or smthn.

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Teratophilia, since Dazai’s a kitsune here. Creative definitions of Aphrodisiacs (aka heat/rut cycles) but no a/b/o intended. Some vague? Phone sex? Mutual Masturbation can also be read into it, but it’s not explicitly there.

With Thanksgiving, festivals, Christmas, and New Years all in the same season, winter was a season rife with dramatics. On the side of the Mafia, there were deals to make, knock offs to sell, and bonds to keep healthy. For the ADA, there was the Mafia, as well as monsters and other petty criminals to contend with. So, Dazai was sure that Kunikida hated the season with every fiber of his being. Most of all due to the fact that the bandaged brunette went into rut during the season. Granted, Osamu Dazai didn’t have a strong work ethic on the best of his days, but he was sure that his vanishing act still annoyed the Thanksgiving stuffing out of the schedule-addicted man.

Meanwhile, the annoyance he inflicted upon Kunikida was probably the one thing that the manipulative brunette actually enjoyed when his rut came each year. Which, was petty, but in the years like this one, where he was left to his own devices with only toys and the dysfunctional level of need that infected every fiber of his being like a stubborn cancer, it was something to cling to. “That toy helping any, Mackerel?” Chuuya Nakahara asked, his voice distorted by the mostly forgotten cellphone that kept Dazai company amongst the temperamental redhead’s mussed comforter and egyptian cotton sheets. Though, the amusement in his words was still clear, and was still a burr that tangled itself in the brunette’s fluffed-up tail. “Not at all.” He growled out while he humped into the soft silicone of a lubricated pocket pussy. The feather-stuffed pillow that the kitsune kept captive beneath him a bit of support to keep the plastic casing from moving. “I’d prefer if it were you beneath me right now. A toy just doesn’t satisfy my needs as well.” “Bold of you to assume I’d let you top me, motherfucker. Even in your rut.” The martial artist mocked through the phone, emboldened by the distance Mori had put between them when he sent his executive off to sweet talk some important cog of the mafia. “But hey! At least your rut only lasts three days, right? That’s a perk.” He offered, only to get back through barred fangs, “That’s if I was a fucking girl, Chibi! You know damned well how long my ruts are, cunt!” Though, at the same time that the redhead’s sarcastic comfort pissed Dazai off, it also made his cock twitch while it slipped in and out of it’s silicone prison. The simple act of bickering with his mate like a dose of gasoline for the desire in Dazai’s belly. So, no matter how Chuuya’s laughter ate at him, the brunette’s thoughts felt too much like mush for him to formulate a second witty reply.

So, he didn’t bother, and instead buried his face into the cognac-scented pillow that he kept his arms wrapped around while his hips moved as if they had a mind of their own. The unyeilding plastic of the pocket pussy’s a harsh contrast to the lubricated silicone that squeezed him. Which, was equal parts uncomfortable, and weirdly enjoyable enough to make the kitsune’s tail swish and thump against the mattress while he barked and whined. Yet, no matter how much he huffed up Chuuya’s scent from the silken cushion, it offered little to no help against the heat that seemed to carbonate Dazai’s blood.

What did offer a sliver of help, though, was the grip of the sex toy he humped into. As well as, of course, the mafioso’s voice when it managed to seep back into the Kitsune’s lust-addled brain. “Osamu? You still there, or did you finally hang up?” And, while Dazai couldn’t muster up the words to respond due to the lack of oxygen that got through the cognac-scented pillow. Though, that lack of acknowledgement only made the redhead give a small sight before he likely returned to whatever paperwork he had. Nice enough to at least sit on the phone with the kitsune as he humped needily into his pillow.

So, Dazai didn’t linger on the mafioso’s comment. He simply tightened his hold on the cushion and did his best to convince himself that the too-soft item was the muscular, scarred body of his mate. And that the muffled schlick, schlick, schlick of the slimy, silicone toy was really the twitchy, warm walls of his partner. Something that wasn’t insanely hard to do, thanks to the years he had to catalogue each one of Chuuya’s lustful sighs, but proved to be a bit difficult when the plastic case of the fucktoy brushed against his belly. A reminder of the cheap quality of the imitation in his head.

Though, regardless of the interruptions, he was able to work himself up just enough to manage a needy whine of, “Chuuyyyyyaaa…” the moment he lifted his head to gulp down the smoke-tinged air of the bedroom. Though, whether that smoke was from Dazai’s kitsune powers, or simply the scent of his own body being cooked by his Rut, he couldn’t tell. “I’m still here, Mackerel.” The redhead assured, his voice distorted by the phone, yet still a bit of a salve. “I...I think I’m gonna cum. I-I’m right at the edge.” He desperately whimpered. “Really? Aren’t you up to three, though? That’s usually your limit for consecutive orgasms. Plus, I’m sure that toy is getting nasty.” He teased, likely to try and dig into the brunette’s competitive side for some sick sadistic pleasure of his own. Though, the kitsune chose to imagine he was simply fuelling his own masturbation. Though, that didn’t spare the redhead a snarl, even if he only heard it through his phone. “Alright, alright, jeez. You can cum, mackerel, you have my blessing.”

That earned him another horny bark from the mindless brunette before his orgasm finally slammed into him so hard, that the tinge of smoke he’d tasted earlier was undoubtedly now from something in Chuuya’s bedroom. As if that could alleviate the heat that erupted onto the kitsune’s skin the same way that his load seemed to erupt out of the sex toy pinned beneath his body. “Oy! Don’t you dare burn down my fucking house, mackerel! You burn it, you buy it, slut!” Chuuya snapped out, though his words only seemed to roll through Dazai’s head at that point. His furious ranting about the cost of his furniture little more than background noise, even as Dazai waved his fluffed up tail to extinguish the flames before they did more than some light smoke damage. So, the brunette simply smiled and let him scold him so that he could use the sound of his mate’s voice as some form of white noise during his break.

[ohhcinnybuns]

Today's SKK nighttime thought: Kinky

They make this so easy, but Chuuya's lines are just so... you know.