#bungo stray dogs x fem!reader

[chuellas]

Auld Lang Syne | You never thought you’d make it to the New Year after the events of this previous one, but here you are spending it with both new and old acquaintances.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!reader, mentions/consumption of alcohol, terms “Doll” & “Baby” used, Dazai makes a questionable decision, WC: 1.8k

A/N | I am so incredibly late to this but I’m a sucker for a good New Year’s kiss fic >.<

It’s strange to be celebrating after all that’s happened in the last year. There is certainly plenty to celebrate, but there’s also plenty to mourn over too. The feelings are conflicting, however, the more you drink the more you’re leaning towards the former. Maybe you’ve done enough grieving.

The other odd thing is the presence of the Port Mafia, in fact, the event you’re attending with your colleagues is being hosted by the very organization your president had previously declared an enemy. Sure, both the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia had worked together in order to stop the catastrophe that was Fyodor Dostoevsky, but that was only circumstantial — “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” You had thought it was one of those situations, but maybe Mori and Fukuzawa saw a benefit of everyone working together.

It’s not often that you agree with Dazai, but the two of you are on the same page as you lurk in a corner, unhappy with the situation. You both should have taken a page out of Yosano’s book and faked being ill. Although you think if anyone deserves to play hooky this evening it’s her. The one truly jarring thing about this evening is just how many wary looks the two of you were getting. Most are being directed towards the former “Demon Prodigy” but considering your past with the Port Mafia, quite a few were directed towards you as well. 

“How far into the fall do you think someone would get before passing out from shock?” You side eye Dazai at his words, only to find he has turned around and is now leaning over the ledge of the highrise you're on gazing down at the street far below almost longingly with his champagne glass still in hand.

Normally you wouldn’t entertain his intrusive thoughts but you’ll take the morbid question as a distraction from the pair of bicolored eyes that have been glued to you all night, making your skin itch with anxiety. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? You turn your head to peer over the ledge yourself and let out a breathy snort.

“Would a fall like that even scare someone like you? Most people that fall from this height pass out from shock because of how scared they are.” You take a sip of your champagne, the back of your head burning from the hole being seared into it.

Dazai turns back to you with an exacerbated expression on his face. As if he isn’t the one that brought up the subject. This is what you get for humoring him instead of just continuing to side eye him like you usually do.

“I wasn’t talking about just myself!” The brunette looks like he’s about to protest more but he goes silent when something behind you catches his attention and suddenly his face shifts into a dangerously amused smile.

You shiver and it’s not from the cold. “What? Quit smiling like that, you’re freaking me out.”

“You have an admirer.” He practically sings the words and you’re once again acutely aware of the gaze that’s been almost glued to you all night. 

“I’m quite aware that he’s been staring but thanks for reminding me, Osamu.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm as you scowl and take a generous sip of your champagne, finishing it off, while Dazai’s grin only widens. 

Chuuya has been watching you all night. He tried approaching you earlier, thinking he could just smooth talk his way back into your good graces, but you pointedly avoided him until he got the message. You didn’t want to talk to him until you were inebriated enough to not care. So far you’re at 3 glasses of champagne and the thought of the ginger still irritates you. The thought of him plotting with Dazai and packing up to go to Europe and try to play hero still pisses you off.

Dazai got a mouthful from you when he got back. He was apologizing to you for weeks before you finally let up and forgave him. But Chuuya has apparently been too busy with Port Mafia matters to put in more than half of the work Dazai did. 

The Port Mafia executive has a long way to go until you’ll willingly give him your attention. 

The problem is, you don’t want to be mad at him. You want to ring in the New Year with him. You want him to be your last kiss of this year and the first kiss of next year. You want to be securely in his arms, the place you feel the safest in this world, when the year starts. You want to start it off right. 

You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, too stubborn and upset to approach him but internally yearning for his touch and attention.

You should have just stayed home. 

Dazai’s cinnamon eyes flit between you and what you can only assume is his former partner behind you. You watch as something washes across his face in a short wave, something so small that you would have missed it entirely if you didn’t know Dazai as well as you do. Guilt. He still feels guilty for several things but you think this time specifically is for taking Chuuya away from you and not cluing you in on any of their plans. Dazai would never in a million years admit that, though.

So instead he says, “Y’know…I’ll never understand how the slug ever managed to captivate a girl as beautiful as you, but I do understand just how much you mean to him. Maybe you should cut him some slack, for both of your sakes.” 

His words elicit another side eye from you, this one far more suspicious than the others. He puts arms up in mock surrender, a goofy grin spreading across his face when he looks behind you again with a nod. He’s up to something but before you can figure out what it is, Dazai is hoisting you up and unceremoniously tossing over the railing.

You’re falling, plummeting to the ground and suddenly his question from earlier made sense. You shouldn’t have entertained him, you should have scolded him and walked away. This was another one of their plans. Somehow you weren’t scared, you knew he would come catch you. He always did. 

Your body, however, didn’t have as much confidence in Chuuya as your mind did. You feel an unsettling queasiness wash over you, waves of panic thrashing inside your stomach. Vertigo is surely fast behind with the way everything is moving around you in a blur that’s disorienting. But before it can barrel over you, a familiar sensation spreads across your skin, it’s warm and familiar. Almost like home.

Gentle, yet firm hands grip onto you and slowly halt your fall to a stop and suspend you in the air. 

“I’ll kill that damn Dazai for pushing you over like that. Are you ok? Didn’t hurt yourself while falling did you?” His voice drips with concern and you can practically see the crease in between his brows. 

Somewhere in your free fall you had screwed your eyes shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d done it or why. Maybe to try and settle the heavy nausea you were experiencing or maybe because there was that small part of you that was whispering in your ear that Chuuya wouldn’t make it to you in time. 

You take in a stuttered breath, grip instinctively tightening on his arms as he shifts gravity again so the two of you are standing comfortably on the side of the high rise you were just pushed off of.

You open your eyes to find one brown and one blue eye watching you cautiously. “...You didn't put him up to this?”

Your tone is accusatory and Chuuya flinches at the implication. A flash of hurt displays on his features before he looks away with a frown. 

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go along with a plan that insane. I know you’re pissed at me but c’mon, Doll, d’you really think I’d risk your safety like that?” 

The answer is ‘no, of course not’ but the words get caught in your throat for some odd reason. You try to form the words but your vision blurs and throat spasms. When you finally get your lips to part a hiccup spills from them and you find yourself crying. Your fingers sink further into his arms, biting into the cloth. 

Gloved fingers are instantly caressing your face, wiping away at the tears spilling from your eyes. You lean into his touch, finally giving into him. You come to the realization that Dazai was right, of course he was right, you hate that he usually is. You’re never going to hear the end of it from him. You know he’s watching you admit to yourself that you miss Chuuya more than you’re upset with him. 

You melt into the Port Mafia Executive and let his ever present warmth sooth your distress, within moments you’re calmed down enough to form an actual response. 

“I know you wouldn’t.” You look up at the ginger and smile weekly at him. “Make sure to thank Dazai before you kill him, he pushed me, quite literally, to forgive you.”

Chuuya rests his forehead on yours and lets out a relieved but tired sigh. “I missed you-”

He’s cut off by the whole city erupting in cheers and fireworks going off, a signal that the new year has started. Chuuya searches your eyes for a quick moment, looking for any possible opposition to what he was about to do. He doesn’t find any.

The executive is quick to lean in and tenderly place his lips atop yours in the sweetest kiss you think you’ve ever experienced. It’s gentle but filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. Before you can figure it out, Chuuya is pulling back with a smile.

“Happy New Year, Baby.” 

Your smile is wide when you reciprocate the sentiment. “Happy New Year, Yacchan.”

The ginger opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off once again, this time by a mess of tousled brown hair peering over the ledge again and a sing-song tone. “You guys owe me! I think I should receive a New Year's kiss too!”

You watch in amusement as Chuuya’s brow twitches and his jaw clenches. “How ‘bout you kiss my damn fist you jackass!”

Dazai sticks his tongue out at him, taunting him like always — knowing exactly which buttons to push and you can’t help the light laughter that escapes your throat. You missed this. You missed them, despite how much they make you worry. The familiarity of it all spreads a warmth through your chest and you can’t help the feeling that this will, in fact, be a good year. Maybe the best you’ve had in a while.

[nakahras]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི heartbeat • osamu dazai

synopsis • a one time thing then becomes a sometimes thing and that becomes something entirely different when dazai is officially pardoned from his long list of crimes. his timing is impeccable considering it’s a special day for him.

warning • intentional lower case, fem!reader, cursing, use of pet name “bella”, oral (m -> f), fingering, dry humping, dazai cums in his pants womp womp

wc • 3.7k

a/n • happy late bday to the stinky!!!!!!! bday or not it’s my job to embarrass this man ^.^

it started as a one time thing, a mistake the two of you made one drunken night when dazai was a whole bottle in and you a few shots in. he used to have no problem drinking alone but that night, for some odd reason, he sought you out — he was craving your company in his intoxicated haze. with your usual restraint heavily impaired, nothing stopped you from spending the night sitting on top of dazai and making his eyes roll to the back of his head.

it was supposed to be a one time thing but isn’t that how these types of things always start?

the second time it happened was the very next day. something in dazai had clearly been stirred because he would not stop bothering you all day. usually he’d pick a time of day and use it to poke fun at you but eventually your indifference would make him grow bored and he moves on to the next person closest to him (i.e kunikida). however, he was persistent the next day and a lot more touchy. worst of all? everyone noticed. you were mortified when atsushi of all people leaned over the desk across from you and asked “did something happen” the pause to look between the two of you for dramatic effect was really the nail in the coffin, “…between you two?”

you wanted to throw up. curse atsushi and his weretiger animal instincts. you wanted to be careful. you continued to shut down the not-so-subtle advances from the brunette. but your composure was thinning — that paired with the images of the previous night’s activities flitting across your mind, was enough to cut your thread of restraint. of course dazai was so bothered he couldn’t make it back to the dorms. he had you in the electrical room that kunikida was prone to lock him in when the detective was being especially annoying. 

it happened again and again and again. and then several more times after that. you had a sort of schedule almost. a tell when dazai was going to visit you after work.

it was never more than sex.

and that’s what you’re trying to remind yourself of as you prepare to face dazai for the first time after being in prison for months then being pardoned for his crimes after assisting in bringing down fyodor dostoevsky and the decay of angels. you’re uncharacteristically nervous to see him. the freshly freed man has been in yokohama for a week now, you saw him on his second day here for a welcome back party the agency threw for him. 

he was… distant. 

that was the best way you could think to put it. he was seemingly normal with everyone else but with you, it was as if whatever you’d been doing before the doa incident had never taken place. it was unsettling to say the least.

or, at least it was unsettling, until today.

dazai “the best detective of all time” osamu: i’m coming over in five minutes. got anything strong?

you roll your eyes at the contact name that dazai had clearly entered himself, regardless of that, you let a fond and somewhat relieved smile tug at your lips.

you: you insult me. i always have your favorite stocked

dazai “the best detective of all time” osamu: a woman after my own heart (♡ヮ♡)

you don’t bother with a response. instead you ignore the odd ache in your chest and pull down a bottle of liquor that you normally would never touch but the nagging feeling in your gut needs to go. you pull out two shot glasses and pour some of the alcohol in each one. you don’t wait for the brunette and throw your head back to toss the amber liquid down to the back of your throat. you make sure to swallow it all in one go, hoping the after taste isn’t too strong. 

you refill the glass and you’re getting ready to take another shot when the doorbell rings.

what the fuck?

dazai never uses the bell? he doesn’t even knock most of the time, he just barges right in. you cautiously toe your way to the front door and lean up to peer through the peephole. you’re met with a mess of burnt caramel tresses. you’re quick to lean back and open the door. 

dazai’s attention clearly wandered while he had been waiting but the second you open the door he perks up and swivels around to present you with a singular yellow iris flower. you wonder where he found the gorgeous flower, they were hard to find this late in june, just barely no longer in bloom. 

the former fugitive thrusts the flower forward in your direction, his face is the perfect picture of composed, eyes lidded and smile relaxed. the way his free hand twitches at his side gives him away though. you make sure your eyes don’t linger on it for too long, dazai would know and would sink back into himself. instead you flit your gaze back to the flower and let a your mouth curve up in a shining smile.

“this wasn’t easy to come by, bella, but the search was worth it now that i get to see that stunning smile of yours.” the brunette bows in a way that’s reminiscent of a young lord courting a young lady.

you scrunch your nose in amusement and take the flower. your giddiness overtakes you and you’re quick to bring the beautiful plant up to your nose and breathe in. the smell is refreshing, what a flower should smell like in its prime. this iris is truly the perfect pick.

you look back up to dazai only to find him observing you with an unfamiliar gleam in his curious eyes. “thank you for the flower. i was surprised when you rang the doorbell, y’know? anyways, come in, your favorite is on the counter in the kitchen.”

the detective wastes no time in shuffling in. he toes his shoes off quickly and tosses his jacket on top of them, majority of it laying crumpled on the floor. dazai’s nose finds the amber liquor before his eyes do. he looks at the poured shot glass almost apologetically. you watch him do so and furrow your brow in confusion. 

you don’t linger on dazai’s strange behavior for long or the fact that he was in such a rush to get over here that he forgot to put his vest on and match his socks. you focus on opening your cabinet for your thin vase made for a single flower you totally didn’t steal from an event the ada hosted. you struggle for a moment before dazai’s chest is lightly grazing your back and he’s reaching above you to grab the object for the iris. 

the detective keeps you trapped between the counter and his body as he reaches over and fills the vase with some water. once he’s done and straightens himself, dazai plucks the flowers from your hold and plops it into the water. he scoots it as far away as possible before spinning you around. 

dazai brings his hand up and wraps it around the back of your head, fingers gentle as he runs them through your hair then he pushes your head into his chest and reaches up with his other arm — softly murmuring, “watch your head…” 

his voice trails off, like he’s not sure whether he should continue as he closes the cabinet doors above you. when he’s done, his fingers wrap around your hair and he tugs lightly to get you to look up at him. your breath hitches when his eyes catch the light, golden hour. the warm lighting turning his usual dark irises into a shining bronze. they’re beautiful, he’s beautiful as your eyes trace every feature on his face. 

dazai looks tired, you can tell by the way his skin is dull and in the bags that sit under his eyes and in the way his eyelids droop just a little bit lower than they normally do. despite his exhaustion, he still shines in the sunlight painted across his features. 

then he whispers out your given name, as if breathing it is all he knows.

the thing he was scared to utter, because dazai is dazai and you now know what that means. he’s terrified of rejection, specifically yours. so, instead of telling him — you’ve never really been good with words — you show dazai how willing you are to reassure him that rejection from you will never happen.

you search his eyes for a moment, looking for any hesitancy on his part. you don’t find any. you reach up and gingerly cup the brunettes cheeks. his reaction is instantaneous as he melts into your touch like a man starved. his fingers in your hair tighten and you let out a short noise, something caught between a whimper and a gasp. 

the noise you make is all the confirmation dazai needs to slip from your grip, he leans in to slot his lips with yours in a deep and fervent kiss.

you let out another noise, this time a hum of approval. your hovering arms rest on the detectives shoulders and you wrap them around his neck. with your new leverage you draw dazai even closer to you. your chests are pressed together as you breathe each other in. your senses are suddenly flooded by him and a welcome chill rolls through your body when he nips at your bottom lip.

his movements are slow, a stark difference from the usual desperation he displays when the two of you initiate sex. his tongue dances along your lips, silently pleading for entrance. you part your lips with ease and even let out a soft hum of appreciation. dazai explores your mouth like he’s discovering something entirely new for the very first time. his tongue goes from entangling with your own to scraping the back of your teeth then flattening against the roof of your mouth. you feel as if he’s devouring you, taking his time and not leaving a single centimeter untouched. 

while dazai’s mouth has you preoccupied, his hands roam freely, sliding across every curve until they land on your ass. again, he’s taking his time. it’s almost excruciating how slowly he’s taking things, but you have no say in the matter when your mind is this foggy. his guidance is welcome even though the pace isn’t quite to your liking.

dazai’s lithe fingers gently massage the swell of your ass, eliciting another whimper from you that he swallows up with a smile tugging at his lips. directly following that he steals your breath when he takes hold of the back of your thigh and hoists you up onto the counter with surprising ease. you distantly think, once again, how it feels like the man is trying his best to devour you. your hold around him tightens but you part from him, a string of spit following you. you’re panting, trying to collect the air you lost, the air that was taken from you by the brunette standing before you with a lopsided smile and gleaming eyes.

“…osamu…” you imagine the way you said his name just now sounds eerily familiar to the way he said yours.

dazai lets out a groan and dips his head down to nuzzle your neck. his fingers are now biting into your hips and teasing the hem of your tank top. his mouth trails along your jawline then he begins leaving sloppy kisses down the expanse of your neck. you push your chest into his and rake your fingers slowly up his clothed back.

you're desperate and it’s showing — it’s contagious even. dazai can only take so much. he’s waited too long to have you wrapped around him in the most intimate of ways. 

his fingers finally find their way under your shirt as he all but whines, “been waiting for this since i was taken, wanted you s’bad when i was gone.” 

you lean back and stare at him for a moment before trailing your fingers under the collar of his shirt and along the string of his bolo tie. you expertly loosen it along with the buttons of his shirt, which you also untuck from his trousers. you leave everything hanging on him for now while your lidded eyes stay trained on his face as you trail your hands down your body to where dazai’s hands rest on your now exposed hips. you want to see the reaction on his face as you guide his hands up, to expose more of your torso.

it’s your turn to guide him to your chest, letting him hold your breasts. his breath hitches and eyes flutter when you still. his fingers twitch and he watches you closely as he gives you a cautionary squeeze, testing out the waters. you hum in appreciation and give him a short nod. dazai is slow, again, it’s almost frustrating. you let out a huff but he’s far too focused on your tits to notice your ire. 

you stew in your frustration for a moment before a wild grin spreads across your face. you think you’ve figured out how to make the surprisingly patient man crack. you push your chest further into his hold and he thinks nothing of it, that is until you lift your shirt the rest of the way off and drop it on the floor. the brunette’s eyes flit from your chest to your face. he raises a brow curiously as you reach over and pull the bolo tie off his neck and pull it over your head, letting the accessory rest in between the valley of your breasts.

“i missed you too.”  

dazais eyes roll to the back of his head as he abandons your chest and takes hold of your face. “you’ll be the reason for my demise, bella.”

the detective gives you no room to rebuttal because in the next instant he’s crashing his lips to yours, his patience clearly thinned out. you smile triumphantly and reach out to slide his shirt off his torso and both of you let it fall to the ground. you trail your fingers down his abdomen. following the bumps of his bandages and leaving a wake of goosebumps on his exposed skin. when you make it to his pants you waste no time in unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants button. 

while you’re busy with your own endeavor, dazai is conjuring up a plan of his own. his hands trail down your thighs squeezing at the plushness of them. just as you’re about to unzip the brunette’s pants and let them drop to the floor to join the rest of your clothing, dazai slips from your grip as he drops to his knees. and how are you supposed to complain when he looks so good looking up at you through his lashes sitting pretty between your thighs? 

the answer is you don’t.

your hands quickly find his hair and your fingers tangle with the soft tresses. he leaves a trail of kisses up each of your thighs. once he’s satisfied with his work his fingers curl into the band of your shorts and looks up at you expectantly.

”off…” it’s a soft demand, but a demand all the same. 

you lift your hips and dazai all but tears the small article of clothing from your legs. he let’s out the most pathetic whimper when he notices two things. the first being that you weren't wearing any underwear. the second was just how wet you already were. it’s a clear testament to how worked up you must be and something in dazai’s chest swells as he realizes you must have been just as frustrated as he was. 

“no panties all because of me? how pretty. somehow your prettier than i remember, absolutely divine to a man that’s been starving for months.” 

your thighs lightly squeeze his head and you let out a frustrated groan. “osamu, please, would you just shut up and-“

your sentence is cut off by dazai practically shoving his face into your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit. it’s tactless but the way he sucks harshly has you seeing stars. your head lulls back and you let out embarrassing little pants. your fingers in his hair tug and scratch against his scalp, which earns a shameless moan from below you.

dazai is still watching you through his lashes. he can feel himself hardening in his pants, his hips twitching as they threaten to start thrusting and humping the air desperately. he ignores the desperate need to be inside of you and focuses on your pleasure. the detective brings his hand up to your mouth and taps your bottom lip with his middle and ring fingers. you’re happy to comply and open your mouth to welcome the two digits, wrapping your lips around his slender and long fingers and sucking on them with a smile.

dazai can feel the way he leaks into his pants at the view before him. it’s embarrassing how easily he’s getting off to you getting off on his mouth. pathetic even. only you could do this to him, no one else has ever drawn this kind of reaction out of the ex port mafia executive. once you're done swirling your tongue around his fingers, he pulls them from your mouth and guides them to your entrance. 

without giving it a second thought he pushes both digits into you with ease. 

your own fingers tug harshly at dazai’s hair and you let out a string of moans. “fu- ‘samu ‘s too much… oh my god- gonna cum already.”

dazai stills, for both your sakes because he thinks the knot in his own stomach is far too tight to just be desire. he was gonna cum. he was going to cum untouched. but he can’t just leave you hanging like this. your release versus his embarrassment. it’s an easy decision. dazai continues the suction he had on your clit and he pulls his fingers out of you almost all of the way and slides them right back in. 

you’re babbling incoherently, you can’t hold your head up, can’t see the way dazai is desperately bucking hips humping the air as he chases the minimal friction his underwear brings him. 

all it takes is two more thrusts of dazais fingers and you’re done for, cumming on his fingers, his mouth, his tongue. dazai is a messy eater, he’s slurping up your juices, everything that's drooling out of you is caught by his tongue. your vision is white and ears are ringing so you miss the way dazai starts cursing to himself. his mouth is still lapping at you but his hand has disappeared. 

you look down to see him using the same hand to pump his cock but by the time you register it, he’s already cumming, making an absolute mess of his pants and your kitchen floor. dazai’s whole body is twitching, but once he’s done he slumps over and rests his head on your thigh. his face is flushed, a telltale sign that he did, in fact, just cum.

you blink, trying to find your bearings and come to terms with whatever the fuck it was that just happened. “did you just-“

“shut up- no! i didn’t- no- shut up!” dazai whines as he shoves his face into your thighs and you can feel the heat radiating off his face.

you let out a snort and stroke his now sweaty hair. “osamu, it’s fine. it’s been a while. plus we both know, with that freak stamina of yours, you’ll be ready to go again in 10 minutes max.”

dazai rolls his head on your thigh so he can pout at you. you let out a small giggle at how cute he is. your hand drops to caress his cheek. 

“c’mere…” 

dazai shakes his head defiantly at your request. “no. i’m a mess. i need a towel to clean up first.”

you sigh at his dramatics but scoot over to jump off the counter. you walk a few paces forward to your small kitchen table where your paper towels sit. you pad on over and hand him the roll. dazai lets out a weak ‘thanks’ as you walk to the fridge and pull something out: a small container with a single cupcake in it. you pop the lid open and stick a birthday candle in it. you snatch your lighter and flick it on to light the candle.

walking back over to dazai, who’s shifted to sit against the cabinets and grumbling to himself about how he’ll show you how long he can really last, you're careful to make sure the candle doesn’t go out. you slink down against the cabinets and wait for dazai to stop cleaning himself and notice you.

with a huff dazai kicks his pants off, sitting only in his underwear. he looks over at you with a perplexed look, staring between you and the cupcake in your hands.

“what… what’s that for?” his face looks strangely innocent, he’s genuinely confused. 

you smile softly at him, hoping it’s enough to reassure him. “happy birthday, osamu.”

”how…??” he’s so stunned he can’t even speak.

you suppose this reaction is to be expected. until his arrest, you had no knowledge of when his birthday was. but since becoming public enemy number 1 a lot of his personal information had been shared to the public. his birthday being apart of that. you don’t feel like ruining the mood and explaining all that to him right now.

so instead of explaining, you simply move the cupcake towards him. “would you stop being difficult and just blow out your candle to make a wish?”

dazai gives you a scorned look but listens to you anyways. he seems to take the wishing part seriously as he contemplates something. his eyes flicker to you for a moment before he leans in and blows out the candle.

[thewickedjazzy]

Level 3: Baby Fever [Breeding] for Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩osamu dazai x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩Synopsis: you're thrilled to kick off the new kinky card game with your boyfriend, but you definitely didn't expect it to culminate in your first time going raw.

ᡣ𐭩Warnings: nsfw, mdni, 18+ content, smut with plot, breeding kink, mating press, bdsm elements, breathplay, alcohol consumption, profanity, kink and fetish themes, sexual challenges, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, cum mentioned...etc.

ᡣ𐭩Word count: 2.3k

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

“Is everything set?” you ask, eyes locking onto your boyfriend’s figure as he places the last decently sized shot glass on the table looking you up with a mischievous smirk, sweet excitement sparkling in his brown irises.

“all set, my love.” he chuckles, enthusiasm radiating from him warm as the sunshine of spring as he rests both hands on the table in front of you, his sleeves rolled up and shirt fully unbuttoned.

you take a deep breath, feeling the exhilaration twisting in your stomach. tonight is the night you’ve been waiting for—a card game you’d eagerly anticipated all week: freak or drink. while the game is pretty straightforward, the risks and rewards are irresistibly enticing. each card drawn could push your boundaries, could strip you bare—figuratively and literally—just thought of it makes your thighs press together instinctively.

“okay, let’s start!” your voice betraying the nervous excitement that courses through your veins. you bite your lip as your hand hovers over the deck before pulling the top card from the pile, feeling the cool edges glide across your fingertips as you flip it over, eyes going wide at the challenge: “ sensual stuffing.”

you snort softly, caught between disbelief and laughter. “no way,” you scoff, shaking your head with a smile.

“c'mon, baby... are you shy?” dazai teases, leaning in closer against the table, eyes roving over your form, stripping you down before he even touches you.

you roll your eyes as the familiar rush of high heavens of pleasure pulse through you. “not shy, just... strategic,” you purr, smirking as your hands slide beneath the hem of your dress. the lace of your panties catches on your fingertips as you slowly drag them down, stepping out of them and holding them up, feeling the cool air hit the places where your warmth had been trapped.

with a sly grin, you twirl the delicate lace between your fingers, holding it up like a prize. “open up, pretty boy.”

dazai’s smirk never fades, his lips parting ever so slightly as his eyes flicker between your face and the panties dangling between your fingers. it feels exhilarating to push boundaries, especially with that brown haired-brat, who always keeps you on your toes.

you step closer, heat rushing to your face spreading a pink tint under the barrier of your skin as you bring the lace closer to his mouth. slowly, you press the delicate fabric past his lips, watching him hum softly, his tongue grazing the lace before biting down just enough to hold it in place, never breaking eye contact.

his smirk falters for a moment as he tastes your slick drenched panties, before he groans pulling the lace out of his mouth.

“two things that i love,” he murmurs, “you and how easily you get wet.” his tongue darts out, flicking over his lips, tasting the ghost of you still lingering there as he lazily draws the next card from the deck. it's obvious that his focus isn’t on the game but rather on you, completely.

he holds the card between his fingers for a moment, his smirk widening devilishly as he reads it aloud. “fuck yes!! 'body shot.'”

before you can respond, dazai’s grip tightens around your waist, hoisting you up effortlessly. the world spins for a second, your breath catching in your throat as he slams you down onto the couch, knocking the air from your lungs. you barely have time to gasp his name before his hands are on you again, fingers slipping under the fabric, peeling the dress from your body as if it were nothing more than a flimsy barrier in his way.

he doesn’t stop, brown irises completely dilated as he grabs the shot glass filled with your favourite amber liquid before tipping it ever so slowly over your chest. the cold alcohol spills onto your bare breasts and the sudden cold sensation makes you arch into him feeling a shiver ripples down your spine as the liquor trickles over your nipples, leaving a glistening trail.

“fuck...’samu,” you whimper, thighs instinctively clenching as he watches the liquid pool at the curve of your breast.

without hesitation, his lips are on your naked bud, tongue flicking out to lap up the trail of alcohol all over your aerola, relishing the feeling of his mouth hot against your chilled skin as he slurps up every drop with a fervent hunger, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive nipples, taking his time, to admire the way you writhe beneath him. each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, juices already starting to slick your thighs.

“you're a moaning mess when we're just getting started?” he pulls away with a low chuckle, stretching his arm to draw a card from the nearby table.

you’re barely recovering from the high of his touch, breath coming in short, needy gasps, “ugh—show meee,” you whine, making a grab for it.

“holy fuck—” the burnet curses under his breath, pausing for a moment.

“whattt?” you pout, leaning closer to catch the words on the card. 'breeding'. oh no! you’ve always been so careful—always on your pills, always using protection. you never let yourself slip, never let caution fall away. but this time? you can’t help it. the temptation eats you alive, a desperate, yearning desire to feel every inch of him, raw and reckless. what if it’s even better than you imagined? what if it’s a pleasure so intense, it leaves you breathless, trembling, and utterly undone?

the thought rushes through your mind and before you can fully process it, you feel his cold fingers dig into your bare skin again lifting you from the couch. needless to say, the next thing you hear is the bedroom door swinging open. suddenly, you’re being pushed down onto the bed, the soft mattress beneath you bouncing with the force.

“listen baby, we’re not just gonna try for a baby tonight. we’re gonna make one.”

once he says that with a whisper, your cunt clenches around nothing instinctively, you part your lips to utter something— anything.

“aa—’samu?” you manage, breathless, as he climbs onto the bed, hovering low, his hands press the mattress on either side of you.

“you’re gonna take all of me tonight, hmm?... spread your gorgeous legs baby—uh, fuck yes, just like that.” his large palms push apart the plushy gates of thighs and spread you wide by your perky ass cheeks, giving him a clearer view of your flushed folds.

no amount of imagination could prepare dazai for how much you're leaking right now. juices soaking your pillowy folds, and he can not move his eyes away from you. it's like he's been craving this very moment a long time ago.

“ahh... i've always dreamed of this moment, filling you up with my seed, ngh—!” you never expected to crave his thick, hot cum to fill you this much, but with the way he hangs above you now? mop of brown hair tickling the tip of your nose while his gaze locks on your spread-open thighs and puffy pussy—so ready to welcome his angry flushed cock, his pants hang low, barely clinging to his hips, just under the heavy weight of his balls.

“’s-samu—” you gasp, barely able to breathe his name. oh god, he's losing it, going absolutely wild just hearing his name drip so sweetly from your glossy lips. you feel it before you see it—his thick, swollen tip pressing against your slick entrance, throbbing and red as it starts to push inside your tight, resisting cunt.

“gonna wreck that pretty little pussy of yours,” he growls, head dropping forward to rest on your soft alcohol stained breasts “stretch it wide, make you my slut.”

“ffffuck- this feels better than i imagined—” he exhales sharply, trying his best to resist the urge not to slam his entire lengthy cock deep inside you.

you thrash under his touch, the languid, torturous rhythm making your hips buck toward him, seeking any sort of friction. “nngh—samu-please... more,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed, head spinning from the combination of enthusiasm, desire, and his tip teasing your entrance.

he cannot help but hug you to his chest, feeling your heartbeats ripple through your ribcage and mingle with his own, he pushes several more inches through your sopping folds, your hips buck up involuntarily circling them over his cock, listening out for the lewd noises that sounds from both your sexes rubbing against one another.

drops of thick precum oozing from his cock finding solace between your gooey walls, the sensation of his bare lengthy cock slipping slowly inside you is ethereal.

finally he slams his entire cock through your fluttering cunt with a throaty groan, jaw completely slack as he gasps next to your ear shoving both of the legs to your chest from beneath your knees, completely folding you in half and sinking his cock deeper and deeper inside you. the full stretch makes your cunt clench and thighs spasm before trembling against his palms.

and oh god, the feeling of dopamine surging through you as technicolor bursts of pleasure dance behind your eyelids. you know your boyfriend's body all too well—his cock is more long than thick, with most of the heft in his swollen, heavy balls, slapping against your doughy ass with each thust. but this time? it’s different—this time, there’s no barrier between you. it’s raw. his bare cock filling you up to the brim in ways you’ve never felt before, and you can feel almost evey ridge, every vein of it pulsing between your tight, slick walls, making your nerve-endings buzz with pleasure.

“you feel that baby? ngh— you want me to make—oh shit—your pretty pussy leak with my cum hmm? put a baby in you?” he says in a low bristling tone making you swallow his cock even more with his words.

the constant hitting of his tip against your spongy spot is too much, but you can't push him from this position, even when your pretty nails are scaping his back, nothing would push him away.

“our baby's gonna have those pretty eyes of yours? and those sweet, soft lips?” he purrs gently, as if he isn't rearranging your guts and bottoming out inside you with a harsh, resounding slap of skin on skin, his heavy balls smacking against the curve of your ass as he drives himself deep to the hilt almost breaking the bed as it creaks beneath you from the force of his thrusts.

“’sammuuu ahh— t’much mngh fuck—you're insane.” you cry out frantically, voice hoarse, body jiggling like jelly with each harsh thrust.

“stay with me, babe… mmff— it’s only been thirty minutes..i know you can handle more.” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against yours, lips forming a soft ‘o’ shape. “ goddammit mngh—you ready to be a mama?” with that, he begins a fast, deep rhythm inside you, his slender hips delivering the perfect stroke.

each thrust has his tip brushing delightfully against your cervix, making your cunt spasm wildly as each thrust sending your essence to splatter against his abs, slick and messy.

“fuck- s’tight and perfect,” dazai growls deeply, pressing his weight against you as he slips his tongue into your mouth, capturing your swollen pink lips and swallowing your moans and whimpers with your knees positioned on either side of your chest.

dazai osamu, the devil that he is, the man who has cradled your heart in his hands, is giving you the best night of your life—guiding you to meet whatever divine force dwells above the clouds as he fills your gooey hole so perfectly.

“mmph shiit—’s-amu..’m clos-e” you cry as he keeps hitting into you roughly, his pelvis grinding against your swollen clit as he grunts ferally into your mouth.

“yeah? gonna let me cum so hard inside you, baby?” he drawls against the sensitive skin where your jaw meets your neck, before gripping your ankles and pressing them back near your ears, his cock sinking into the endless black hole between your thighs, as if he's being consumed by the gravitational force of your cunt.

“gonna make you pregnant... fuh-k—your pussy feels so good mmph holy fuck—i love you hahh.. i fuckin’ love you,” he groans as his vision starts to blur with white-hot pleasure, his balls tightening almost painfully and hips stuttering as he pushes deeper into you, the sloppy heat of your tight walls squeezing every last drop from him. the moment he feels your walls spasm around his twitching cock signalling that you're cumming a throaty groan leaves his chest, spilling hot thick globs of cum inside you—and you couldn't help but unconsciously count the amout of pumps he's feeding your delicious cunt with. seven.. eight.. nine.. ten??—holy fuck! twelve? his cock pulsing with every shot as he kept going, pushing more and more of his release into you till tears cloud your vision.

his breath starts to subside, body finally beginning to relax as the intoxicating pleasure starts to fade into a hazy afterglow. he lets out a long, shaky sigh, pulling out leisurely, your soft whimper catching his ear as his softened cock slips free from your stuffed entrance with a slick 'plop' sound.

his eyes fix on the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of your now-so-wide cunt, a trail of white drops of ambrosia running down toward the bedsheets before he scoops some of it up with two fingers, pushing it back inside you again.

you instinctively grip his wrist tightly still breathing heavily, however you don’t stop him, in fact, your body shudders at the sensation as he gently plunges his fingers deeper, making sure every last drop stays inside as he watches, fascinated with how your trembling body accepts it all again.

he lets out a breathless chuckle as he glances at the nightstand, reaching for his phone, he then opens the camera app, focusing on you before snapping a picture of your dripping pussy.

“ugh ’samu, what are you doin’?!” you groan, trying to catch your breath.

“i'll save this for when our kid's old enough and say, 'this is how we made you.'”

“please don’t tell me you’re starting a scrapbook!” you breathe out, rolling your eyes, still trying to steady your racing heart.

“and ruin the surprise for our kid? tsk..never! i’ll keep the best bits for a bedtime story instead.” the burnet chuckles lowly, his hands tenderly massaging your trembling legs, fingers digging into the soft skin.

“that’s one way to guarantee therapy bills in the future.”

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr

[dietcokegirly12]

“Stuffing You Like a Stocking !”

KINKMAS DECEMBER 3RD

synopsis: when an ill-placed bet had made their control you never knew they had been holding, snap!

word count: 2.7k

tags: threesome, anal, unprotected sex, oral (fem!recieving), mention of masturbation, fingering, size difference, etc etc

art creds on pinterest

─── ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ☃︎♡˖ ⊹ ₊ ݁. ❅ ─── ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ☃︎♡˖ ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you, and chuuya, and dazai’s friendship was something no one really understood but you three, bound together by something more blurry and messy than friendship.

it was clear in the way they held you, and their hand placement, that you were theirs, and only theirs, your connection running much deeper than casualty.

they were always so.. touchy with you, a hand absently on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm, pulling you to straddle their laps, even going so far as squeezing your tits teasingly, when you were distracted.

but all friends do that.

right?

and sometimes, when they would stay the night, all three of you would cuddle, you sandwiched between dazai and chuuya’s warm, bare chests, their soft breathing ghosting over you.

but they had never tried anything with you.

you understood, somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, that this wasn’t a normal friendship, but you refused to believe yourself until much later.

there had been lots of tension, over the last couple weeks, even more so than usual, with chuuya grabbing you any chance he got, and dazai constantly taking opportunities to pin you down, in the form of a wrestling match, or tickling fight, resting his heavy weight atop your body easily, mouth curved up lazily.

you would huff and puff, and tell him get off! and that you couldn’t breathe while squirming desperately, which would always result in dazai’s breathing to increase, a sudden stiffness forming under you, prodding you insistently.

of course, you weren’t stupid. you knew what was going on.

you just chose to ignore the signs until it was too late. much too late.

they had an understanding between them, chuuya and dazai, to not take advantage of you, and to not complexify things by getting sexual, no matter how much they wanted to.

and oh, how they wanted to.

the way your face would light up at the slightest things, your sweet blushing cheeks at their crude remarks, seeing you tip-toe up to brush your rosy soft lips against their cheeks in greeting, your perky breasts pressing against their chests when you hugged them, the warmth of your soft body and chubbed thighs all made them want you more.

and the occasional glimpse they would get of your body, oh if you could only see how feral it made them.

coming fresh out of the shower, smelling like vanilla and sweet things, a towel tightly wrapped around you as you closed the door a crack. they would sneak closer, eager for more, and watch as you dropped the towel, unveiling yourself to them. taking in your bouncy perfect tits, glistening and sheened with water droplets, your smooth supple skin, and your soft tummy leading down to the v between your legs.

practically panting with want like dogs, as they stared at you, feeling ashamed for seeing you in such a state without your knowing, but not enough to stop, creeping closer for more.

and if only you knew, how sometimes on a particularly tempting day, when you had either been wearing sleep shorts that barely covered your perfect, round ass, or wore one of their spare baggy shirts without a bra, your perky, taut nipples visible through the material, practically begging to be fucked stupid, how they would go home and.. help each other.

dazai’s hand wrapped tightly around chuuya’s weeping cock, stroking upward in hard tugs, with chuuya teasing the leaking slit of dazai’s, tracing over sensitive veins, while they both moaned your name helplessly.

no matter how much they thirsted however, they refused to make things complicated.

oblivious to you, however, things had already gotten complicated the moment the brunette and red-haired men had stepped into your life, and claimed you.

for there was only one way for them to truly end this unresolved, stretched taut restraint and call you theirs, and there was only so long until it happened.

.˚₊‧ ─── ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ─── ‧₊˚. ─── ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

knock! knock!

running over to open the door, chuuya and dazai await you, leaning against the doorstep, carrying what looks like an early christmas present, a bulging stocking filled with various candies and perfumes you liked, the two ever eager to vy for your attention.

“aww, thank you guys!” you open the door to welcome them in, giving each a hug, dazai clinging to you longer than usual, while chuuya’s hand slides to your hip almost unnoticeably.

as you shut the door, some of the little trinkets they got for you tumble out, the stocking overflowing.

“wow, you guys really stuffed this, huh?”

“bet we could stuff something else..” dazai retorts, mouth curved up while chuuya snickers beside him.

this in particular wasn’t what was different. chuuya and dazai were always making dirty jokes, flirting with you, with each other.

no, it was what you said after that sent them over the edge you had been inching them closer and closer to, for months now.

“not as full, you couldn’t.”

you weren’t really sure what came over you, whether it be that you weren’t really thinking too hard, or that maybe subconsciously, you had been wanting this to happen, testing them to see how far you could go.

chuuya and dazai loved a dare. and you knew that.

which is how you found yourself here.

bent over the nearest counter, chuuya’s palms roughly coming to cup your breasts, with dazai already yanking down the flimsy pair of panties you had been wearing under one of their baggy tees.

“hah.. y’don’t know how long we’ve waited for this, doll.” dazai groans into your ear, fingers sliding easily into your gushing cunt, absolutely coating them in your essence.

“and now that we have you, we’re not letting go.” chuuya growls, squeezing your tits hard for emphasis.

you gasp, arching further, dazai letting out a pleased hum as he tries to encourage you to arch further, lifting you by the hips to press you hard on the counter.

“think she can take us both, ‘chuu?”

you can’t see it, but you can practically hear the smirk in chuuya’s voice as he replies. “ 'course she can. after all, what was it she said about us not being able to stuff her full..?"

dazai chuckles darkly. "guess we just hafta prove her wrong, hm?"

quickly, he pries your legs apart, exposing your twitching clit to the both of them, the feel of cool air on your sensitive bundle of nerves making you whimper and wriggle your hips back into their grasp, desperate for more friction.

dazai's hands start gentle, tricking you into believing he would be soft with you, deft fingers sliding into your pussy to pump in and out leisurely, curling to find your g-spot.

meanwhile, chuuya is mapping out anywhere he can reach, a sense of desperation in him as he skims over your soft, supple skin, occasionally squeezing or slapping lightly.

you mewl, lashes fluttering as dazai's fingers begin to fuck into you ruthlessly, erotic squelching filling the room with every pump, your thighs already quaking with pleasure.

"m-more! more!" you gasp, trying to back yourself up further into him, which he responds to by licking the nape of your neck, husky voice rasping in your ear, "patience baby.. i want to enjoy this s'much as i can."

and then, chuuya's fingers disappear from where they were curled around your waist a second ago, and you're suddenly caught off guard by the feel of something hot and wet laving at you, slurping all your sweet juices from where it oozes out of your salivating cunt.

"chuuyaaa.." dazai whines, having been shoved aside. "i wanted to d'that!"

he laughs against your pussy, a deep rumbling that makes you shiver as it reverberates through you. "too bad.." he taunts, before resuming his small laps, getting a taste for you.

dazai grumbles something about greed, before your mind numbs with pleasure, unable to think about anything other than chuuya as he begins to run his slithery tongue up your folds, and over your pulsating clit, your sweet slick already dribbling down his chin.

you moan, spreading your thighs wider, as his fingers come to your asscheeks, gripping tightly at the fat, expert tongue slurping and sucking.

and then, a frustrated "fuck this.." is all you hear, before you feel rough desperate hands flipping you, gently laying you back before another tongue joins, immediately getting busy between your plush thighs, this one lapping at your syrupy slick with an urgent sort of fervency.

you thrust your hips up further into their faces, grinding sloppily as both men make out with your ravaged cunt, letting off lewd pops! and muffled slurps.

your eyes meet dazai's, and he's already pussydrunk, eyes half-lidded and dazed, with his mouth sloppily tangling with chuuya's as they fight for the sugary slick tucked in between your legs, mouthing over your clit faintly. both of their chins are glistening with your sheen, and as you watch him, he starts lapping faster, chuuya immediately matching the change in pace, as they eagerly devour you whole.

and you can't even warn them- you're cumming, hard.

so hard you think you black out for a second, eyes and ears fuzzy, as you spasm around their hot, invading tongues, relishing you with renewed vigor.

so hard you don't even realize you're squirting until a few seconds later, when dazai gasps in delight, mashing his face into your sloshing cunt, chuuya following suit.

you throb as they continue to lavish your convulsing pussy in sloppy kisses and licks, until you're pushing their heads away, entirely overstimulated.

"ah ah, where ya going, darling?" chuuya smirks, coming up to stand between your legs. "that was just the warm up.."

and the next thing you knew- you were being lifted up and tossed right over one of their shoulders', being carried away, your body still bare and sticky from your orgasm.

before you can even prepare yourself, you're being thrown on the cushiony softness of your bed, mattress creaking and dipping underneath the weight.

chuuya is on you in an instant, with his hips sloppily grinding into you, the rough bulge of his cock apparent as he rubs it over your plush tummy, placing kisses all along your neck, and laving his tongue over the flutter of your pulse.

dazai quickly follows, stripping away his shirt and pants to reveal his long, throbbing cock, leaking pre-cum and thumping with veins, enormously towering before you.

it's slender, but it's long, impressively so. it reaches almost halfway up his stomach, and as he notices you staring, his mouth curves upward lazily, taking it into his hand to pump slowly. "like what y'see?"

you swallow, before nodding shyly, unable to look away as his fist tightens around the base, keeping half-lidded eye contact with you.

"come sit on it, then."

chuuya eases off you, and slowly, you inch forward, crawling over the bed toward him, arousal running down your trembly thighs.

dazai smiles with pleasure, stroking your hair as you come to straddle him. "good girl."

you throb at his words, and suddenly you can't wait a beat longer, aligning yourself as you lift your hips enough to drool your slick onto his pulsating, reddening, blushy tip, beginning to sink down slowly.

you both gasp at the same time, dazai's head falling back to reveal his slender neck, and adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"fuck you're.. fuck." his hands come to your hips, and you shudder as you feel his cock pushing in to your cervix, hips trying to grind upward as he eases you down.

"s-so big.." you whimper, your pussy greedily sucking him down for more.

"you can take it." he gives you a lopsided smile, one that quickly breaks into a guttural moan as he finally bottoms out inside you, you sinking down on him to the hilt.

and as you both breathe heavily, he starts to bounce you slowly on his cock, eyes locked with chuuya as he groans from across the room.

"you shitheads are leaving me ouut!"

dazai's voice is a breathy moan, as he gestures him closer. "if you're so.. ah.. jealous, get in here."

and as you turn your head to look, making eye-contact with the absolute monster between his legs, cock full and swollen, you can't do anything but gape.

he was much more thick-set than dazai, length heavy and thrumming, fully on display for you to ogle at, red and angry-looking.

he comes closer, creeping behind you to grip your ass tightly, smirk plastered on his lips. "oh, sweetheart, you shoulda never made that.. hah.. bet."

and as he starts to lather his cock up in your gushing slick, making the first movements to push into you, you know then that it's not going to fit.

"hah... 'chu! s'too much! t-too much!" you squeal, pussy clamping tightly around dazai, causing his eyes to roll back, hands coming to your hips to still you.

"baby, don't do that, m'gonna cum!" he whines, hips jerking into you unsteadily.

chuuya huffs over you, trying to rock into you more, but as you feel his thick girth stretching you out to mold his shape, you just can't fit him. there's no room, especially with dazai occupying almost all of it.

"ya gotta loosen up f'me doll, c'mon.." he grunts, prying your legs further apart, a hand coming to smooth over the curve of your ass.

and then, dazai reaches for you, rubbing your puffy, throbbing clit gently to loosen you up, kissing your jaw tenderly. "c'mon, you can do it.."

after rubbing your sensitive nub and making you whine and squeal, chuuya finally manages to ease in a couple more inches, walls clamping tightly around him in welcome.

and what a sight you are.

dazai's hand lazily circling your clit, pussy stretched obscenely around both their cocks.

“m’ so.. hah.. full!”

“told ya, sweets.” chuuya grunted above you. “shoulda listened when you had the chance..”

“now, you gotta take it. take it alll, c’mon..” dazai’s trying to ease you up enough to slide chuuya's remaining inches in, but you’re struggling to breathe, barely able to hold yourself upright.

chuuya pinches and rolls your nipples from behind, while dazai toys with your clit, and with one final squelch, he manages to sheathe himself fully inside you. and when he does, the reaction is instantaneous.

unable to stop themselves after wanting and yearning for you for so long, the rough sound of skin against skin begins to echo as your body ping-pongs between them.

chuuya pulls your hips back into him, while dazai grips them from the front, both of your holes being used and filled like a fuck toy, for their own pleasure and amusement.

“mmh, what a slutty little pussy you have..” dazai teases, watching as more sheeny, dewy slick bubbles from you, your mouth open to let out heaving gasps and moans.

“did ya save it just for us?” he flutters his lashes at you, before pushing his hips up brutally, your insides practically getting rearranged by his thrusting length.

you whimper, eyes rolling back as sweat sticks your thighs to his lap, the filthy wet slapping of your skin sticking together extra noisy.

“you better hope ya did..” chuuya growls from behind. “because if we find out another man touched you like this, we’ll kill him.”

and for some reason, their blatant possessiveness only serves to turn you on more, tightening impossibly around their invading shafts as your breathing increases, head spinning with every mind-numbing thrust.

and when dazai's cock manages to hit that one spongey spot, you swear you're seeing stars as your body slumps back against them, tongue lolling out dumbly.

"look at her, 'chuu. such a cute little fucked-out expression she has." dazai giggles, pounding into you harder as chuuya slams you from behind, grunting in agreement.

chuuya pushes you down into dazai, arching your ass into him higher, as his thrusts turn sloppy and uncalculated, dazai bouncing you rapidly.

“andddd what a pretty ass.. too bad it’s all mine.” chuuya rasps.

"hah.. m'gonna.." is all you manage to get out, before it crashes over you like a tidal wave, head spinning with the force of your second orgasm of the night, practically just gushing all over their fat, weepy cocks.

"mmm.." dazai's head tilts back, hips lifting as he releases spurt after spurt of hot, white seed into your walls, so much of it that it begins to seep out in little rivulets down your thighs.

chuuya is close to follow, hot sticky ropes pulsing into you steadily, as they both moan, grunting into you about how good, how perfect you are, and how long they’ve waited for this.

and as you all come down from your highs, tangling yourselves into the blankets together, dazai tilts his head, resting it on chuuya's chest, studying you.

"you do know, you're ours right?"

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @urlocalfemcel-xx @ghostedwriting @amanoava @fluffyfrog1619 @newnlovesjennie @b0n3s-is-gay @noblogname-exe @iams0up @t3chn0chan @childesdog69

[cheriecoke]

♰ his parliament's on fire — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 1 - nightclub owner!dazai

every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they’d commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai’s.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, port mafia boss!dazai, port mafia member!reader, bsd typical blood / violence, unprotected sex, established relationship, takes place before doa, dazai & reader are a lil unhinged bc they're in love, praise, soft dazai, riding dazai, sub reader, v slight breeding kink oops — 10.1k

The music shook your chest as you watched people head to the front of the club for a dance, a combination of those that were regulars, and those who were just desperate to blow their money on an evening in one of the finest night clubs in the country.

It had grown hot in the club, even for an autumn evening in Yokohoma. There were more people filling the tables than usual, standing only to swing their partners around on the dancefloor. A woman sung sultrily to the crowd, a song that you hadn’t heard in ages. Even for a Saturday, it was crowded, the capacity met, and then surpassed, packed to the brim as a group of foreign billionaires weaseled their way in by paying twice the entry fee.

You swirled your glass, sitting alone at the bar with your legs crossed, the tight, red dress rising up on your thighs. Beside you, a man was puffing a cigar, blowing the smoke back in your face so frequently that it took all your effort not to cough. Still, he paid you little attention, too enraptured by a skinny young woman that giggled every time he touched her arm.

A few more individuals made their way to the dancefloor, tracking unaccompanied dancers like prey, hopeful that they could score a partner for the evening. It was amusing, really, how often you’d seen some of the same men come back. They’d throw stacks of money on the table in a desperation to acquaint themselves with beautiful, upper-class women, even if they’d go home unhappy and broke.

Ice clinked against the sides of your glass as the last drop disappeared down your throat, warming you up for the rest of the evening. Already, you had caught the glimpse of several men in the club. But those who knew who you were knew to keep their distance, and they never tried to sneak more than a subtle glance in your direction.

Those who didn’t usually noticed nothing but your striking beauty and the allure of darkness that seemed to follow you. They were drawn to you easily, smiling at you like they were entitled to gawk at your appearance, like it would be criminal for anyone so beautiful to shield herself away from the world.

Rarely did that ever end well for them.

You handed your empty glass off to the bartender—a dear friend that you’d convinced to work for you at the club—and made your way over to the dance floor. The crowd parted for you with quick glances and slackened jaws, stumbling on their own feet to get out of your way. Once you passed, the world seemed to resume itself. Everyone continued about their business, averted their gaze, even if they were careful not to get too close to you.

Something about that made you smile.

For a while, you danced on your own, grinning carelessly to yourself as you twisted your hips, unbound yourself to the music and the alcohol that ran through your veins. It was a different kind of freedom, and though you’d once been wary of the watchful eyes, they no longer bothered you. You loved losing yourself in the rhythm, loved feeling transported to another realm.

The setlist for the evening included a few of your favorites, and you carried on until there was sweat on your forehead, a single bead trickling down your temple, one that you hastily wiped off. Breaths came to you more stiflingly, heaving inhales and exhales that paired with your thirst.

Finally, the tempo of the music slowed, just enough to snap you back into the present, and the energy zapped out of you as your mood darkened. The time of the evening had passed when you realized that it was no longer fun to dance alone.

You sighed, and with a frown, let your gaze trail across the room to find the cool brown eyes that you loved more than the music you spun in circles to. But Dazai was already in a conversation with someone else, tapping slender fingers against his glass full of amber liquid. He listened intently to a conversation between two men twice his age.

Beside him, Chuuya stood at the edge of the table like a loyal bloodhound, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. You caught his eye instead and smiled to him, though not a single muscle in his face twitched. It seemed as though he was intent on keeping up the charade for the evening.

As much as you wanted to smile even more sweetly and taunt him mercilessly, you didn’t let yourself get too distracted. Instead, you refocused your sights on your other goal.

The stocky, tall man was right where Dazai said he’d be, sitting with a couple woman and a few empty glasses in front of him. He had a neatly trimmed, graying beard, sporting a watch that was, at least, a couple million yen.

You caught him watching you over the edge of the table, his smile slow as you bat your eyelashes at him, sauntering past him with a perfectly coy expression. Eyes lingered on the curves of your hips; the smooth skin of your legs revealed by the dress. The lust came in near waves off of him, thick and heavy as they reached you.

It made your job easier, the obvious attraction that they never tried to hide from you. You smiled to yourself, and felt a sense of satisfaction, despite his disgraceful leering.

The seats at the bar had been filled up when you returned, leaving no room for you and your new companion to retreat.

A younger regular, one with an overabundance of nerves and an awkward smile, spoke in hushed whispers to his friend, one that was dressed in a suit far too cheap to be in this club.

You tapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him in the way that had everyone bending over backwards for you. “Excuse me?”

He looked over, irritated for a fleeting second before realizing who it was that had approached him. Immediately, he was to his feet, stammering over a greeting while his friend gawked at him with incredulity.

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, softening your voice. “I was wondering if I could have those seats. I hate to—”

“No, no,” he said, practically shoving the other man away, pushing him out of the chair while he sputtered confused nonsense. “Take them! We’ll be out of your hair.”

You thanked them before placing yourself neatly back onto the stool you’d occupied before. It was far too easy.

The bartender sent you a knowing look, all too familiar with your games, before going back to mixing a drink.

Moments later, you felt the presence of another behind you, an overwhelming smell of tobacco and pine assaulting your senses. He was taller up close, taller than Dazai, at least, and older than you’d originally thought. Deep wrinkles weathered his skin, his eyes, and though there was still a hint of black in his dark hair, it was slowly being overtaken by the signs of a life that was twice as long as yours.

“Pretty dress.” That was the first thing he said to you, letting his eyes wander over your chest, lips curling into an ugly smirk. “It suits you nicely.”

You wouldn’t be won over so easily, so you merely smiled at him, nodding in thanks. Though, that had him coming on twice as strong, as if the simple eye contact that you’d made earlier had been a full invitation to fuck you. He took the seat next to you, signaling the bartender over.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, and though it was a kind proposition, it always made you laugh. You received a million free drinks from strangers here.

Still, you shrugged and let him, unsurprised that he knew what you’d been drinking earlier. It was a clear sign that he’d been watching you since before you even got up to dance.

“What’s your name?” 

“Should I give it away that easily?” Your voice was silky in your response, unimpressed, but luring him in, nonetheless.

He laughed, and offered you his own instead, Tanaka, as if you didn’t already know it. You’d been planning on springing him into this trap since the moment he’d arrived that evening. It was a target and a plan that had been set in motion for days.

His grin was uncomfortable, but he thought so highly of the way his lips curled, seemingly luring you in.

In reality, you weren’t sure how any woman could stand to get down on her knees for that.

Half an hour passed as you talked with him, preening under his endless string of compliments, wishing that you could string him on for a little bit longer. You enjoyed the words well enough, just another thing to stroke your ego, but the minute he moved closer, you inched away, placing distance between you before he could touch you.

It was obvious it frustrated him, but one look at the flash in his irises had you knowing that he enjoyed the chase.

He droned on, careless conversation about hobbies you didn’t want to understand, and though you smiled, pretending to be interested, your focus drifted to the table where Dazai sat.

His conversation had shifted to Chuuya, the two other men from earlier gone. It seemed strained between them, sharp words spoken as they glared at one another, visibly at odds about something.

Despite the clear dispute, anger cleared away from their expressions within seconds, Chuuya straightening like a board beside his boss once again.

Dazai looked up; it was less than a second that your eyes met, but your knees had weakened, heart stuttering in your chest as it skipped a pulse.

A soft exhale left you, and you longed for Dazai, craved the feeling of his strong palm on your skin, the kiss of his lips on your neck. You had half a mind to say fuck the mission and walk right over to the table and plant yourself on his lap.

It would certainly cause a scene, especially when there were so many new customers there who knew about Dazai but didn’t know about you.

Still, you knew Dazai wouldn’t object. He’d merely smile into your hair and curl his hand around your hip, continuing on with his conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.

You looked away. If you were to make it through the rest of the night, you couldn’t get distracted by the beautiful man just feet away from you. “Sorry,” you said, turning back to Tanaka. “What were you saying?”

His interest in conversation had already waned, and he faced Dazai, displeased by the uptick of fascination within your expression. “Found someone more interesting already?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you pressed your palms into your thighs. You may have longed for Dazai, been so desperate that you couldn’t spare him another glimpse, but you could still play this role well. There couldn’t be another slip, every move had to be precise.

“I’m just curious,” you said, puckering your lips in a pout. “He looks important.”

Tanaka took a sip of his drink as you spoke, nearly spitting it back out when your sentence concluded. His eyes were hard, narrowing at the sight of Dazai just meters away, surrounded by a security of sorts, “You don’t know him?” He coughed.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”

“That’s Dazai Osamu. He owns this place.”

There was room for a theatrical pause. You took that moment to pretend to think. “Oh, of course. What a silly question,” you said, humming, and set your chin down on your hand to glance back over at the table of Port Mafia personnel. “I hear he owns a lot of things.” You tilted your head, gauging the man with siren eyes. “Is that true?”

Tanaka huffed, but he didn’t deny it, looking down at his two-million-yen watch like it was nothing more than a trinket. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t worry about him.” He seemed irritated, though he didn’t let it show, his voice the only indicator that you had upset him. “But I can tell you it sure gets hard to run a business in Yokohama when the Port Mafia owns half the city.”

You widened your eyes, leaning forward. “You’re telling me the Port Mafia owns this place?”

Tanaka laughed, loud and haughty, looking at you like you were just a poor idiot from the countryside, even if the dress you wore cost just as much as his entire suit put together. “Oh, hon, if only you knew.”

The condescending tone sent a screech through your entire body, momentarily halting any proper responses in your current act. But he was unfazed, already moving onto the next topic of conversation, telling you all about the business dealings that you’d known about from the long list of jobs within his file.

There was, truly, nothing about him that you hadn’t already dug up. It was boring you immensely, but you smiled on, nodding enthusiastically as he spun the most lackluster story you’d ever heard.

Dazai, across the room, stared at you as you conversed, clenching his jaw at the way the man eyed you, the gaze that scoured your body like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

Oh, he would certainly enjoy tearing him apart later, even if he would be too easy of a case to break.  

“When are we leaving?”

Chuuya’s voice snapped him out of his onlooking, and Dazai leaned back in the chair, shedding the tension in his shoulders to resume a comfortable position.

“Not until they’re both in the car and I can confirm with Tachihara and Gin that she’s safe,” Dazai said, crossing his arms over the table. He couldn’t forget that there were others around him, those who would never say a word to him, but knew who he was, knew what he stood for. Even here, he couldn’t let his guard down.

“Safe?” Chuuya laughed, though it was without any humor. His irises flashed dangerously, steely grey darkening into a deep silver. “You trust that idiot not to lay a hand on her? He’s undressing her with his eyes.”

Chuuya seemed intent on irritating him that evening, as usual.

“I don’t trust anyone who comes here.” Dazai scowled. “Don’t be a fool.”

A moment of silence lapsed between them, and Dazai became sickened by the way the man was eyeing you. Though you took it all in stride, leaning just far enough away so his knee didn’t graze yours, and his palm didn’t brush against your own, it still lit a fire deep within him.

It was all the better, he supposed, to feel such deep hatred for his enemies. It made it easier to tear them apart without any guilt. 

“How long are you going to make her do this, huh?” Chuuya spoke up once more from beside him, his voice nothing more than a grumble as he whispered down to Dazai. “This charade you two are carrying on has lasted long enough. I mean, you’re whoring out your wife for fuck’s sake—”

Dazai reacted without a thought, despite not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a second. He gritted his teeth and turned on Chuuya, his hand gripping the gun in his pocket, finger tight on the trigger. Enough of a warning for him to know how sincerely the simple comment irritated him.

“Don’t ever insinuate that I don’t love my wife, Chuuya, or it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” Dazai spat the words out carefully, just under his breath, holding Chuuya’s piercing gaze without blinking. “You may be a valuable asset to the Port Mafia, but I will not listen to your opinions on matters that don’t concern you.”

Chuuya stared, setting his jaw before turning away once more. The two of them looked back to where you were smiling, leading the other man out of the room, though still not touching, placing a respectable distance between you.

“I’m just surprised, Dazai.” Chuuya leaned back, crossing his arms as he titled his head, watching your figure fade into the shadows. “You love her so fiercely, and yet, you watch as this carries on time and time again. I don’t understand.”

Dazai stood from the booth, tucking the gun back into his waistbad, under his coat. He straightened his shoulders, inhaling deeply. “I think you’re underestimating her if you truly believe she doesn’t have a handle on the situation.” His hands slipped into his pockets as Chuuya followed, grumbling from just a few feet away. “Besides, I’ve never forced her into anything. It was her idea in the first place.”

“Why?”

Dazai sighed, though it was almost wistful, the mere thought of you enough to turn him into a lovesick fool. “Perhaps it is because there are many men that seem to think they can crawl into her bed so easily, and she enjoys their humiliation when they realize that they are so far beneath her.” Dazai shrugged, and smiled lightheartedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps, she just wants to make everyone’s lives a little easier, including yours. You should thank her sometime.”

Tanaka sat beside you in the car, his hand lingering in the leather seat between his thigh and your own. Night had fallen deep across the city, the sky a navy through the haze of streetlights. Though it was nearing one o’clock in the morning, there were crowds of people out and about, lines at all of the much more affordable clubs in the area.

It hadn’t taken much to get him to come with you. You’d batted your eyelashes, smiled at him from under them, and told him you had a car waiting out back.

That was enough. When you’d pulled yourself down from the barstool, he’d followed after you, eyes blown wide as you’d begun leading him out of the room.

All it took was a dress that hugged your curves and a small grin, and he was in the car with a man that worked for you, heading to a building that your husband owned.

“Do you live far?” Tanaka asked, itching to put his hands on you, even though you’d convinced him to hold off until you got back to your room.

You placed your chin on the inside of your palm, glancing out the window at your own reflection. “Not too far.” You turned back to him, offering him a shy smile. “Why? Are you getting impatient?”

He grinned wolfishly. Your stomach churned anxiously at the sight of it, even when he was no match for you, nor all the other, powerful individuals that surrounded you. “I don’t think I need to answer that.”

Through the rearview mirror, Tachihara met your eyes, and they softened, just barely, silently showing his support from the front of the vehicle.

It was, in a way, a relief. You relaxed, regained a sense of composure, and let your ruby red lips spread over your teeth, cocking your head as Tanaka indulged himself in whatever fantasy was milling about in his mind. His eyes were cruel, though the darkness in them was nothing compared to what you were used to.

Idly, he made comments in your ear of all the things he wanted to do to you, his unpleasant breath tickling the skin there as you tried your best not to recoil. The smell of him was growing heavy in the car, overwhelming and nauseating. You sat even more stiffly, pressing Tanaka away with a palm to his chest as you giggled to yourself, pretending to enjoy his vulgar words.

Tachihara pulled the car around to the back of the building, letting the two of you out as he put it into park.

Any fool should’ve known where they were, what the dark building in the middle of the city stood for, but Tanaka was all too focused on you, intoxicated and inattentive. The mafia headquarters loomed overhead, dark, and unassuming, a triad of buildings stacked perfectly against one another.

“Thank you,” you said to Tachihara, winking at him as Tanaka turned his back, too disoriented to take in anything but the sight of you right before him.

The car drove away, then, and you were left to guide your guest into the building, towards the room that you had already planned to meet Dazai in. When you reached the elevator, Gin was waiting for you, dressed in female attire, this time, charading as a worker instead of the trained assassin that she truly was.

“Impressive building,” Tanaka said, as if not noticing all the obvious signs of the mafia base. “You must come from quite a wealthy family.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder, curious as to why he didn’t assume you’d come into the riches on your own. “I suppose you could say that.”

Gin opened the elevator, then began typing a message to her boss, alerting him of your arrival. Tachihara had taken the longest route back, giving Dazai just enough time to arrive home before you.

“Are you a renter?” he asked, staring as the numbers on the elevator increased, climbed higher while you went towards a floor that was only two below the penthouse.

“We own it.”

Tanaka turned towards you, eyes wide with surprise, perplexed even further by the alcohol running through his veins. “You didn’t say—”

Abruptly, he cut himself off. Whatever comment he was about to make was overshadowed by the fact that he’d met you at the Port Mafia’s night club. That was certainly no place for anyone that didn’t have a million yen to spare in their pockets.

Finally, the elevator dinged, and you relaxed at the sight of the familiar hall, the carpet that had recently been replaced, the paintings that you’d personally added, ones that had been purchased at an auction. There were traces of you everywhere, and though it belonged to many members of the mafia, it was, inherently, your home.

You grabbed Tanaka’s hand, realizing just how cold it was, wrinkled with calluses and dirtied nails. It took everything in you not to grimace as you pulled him towards the fourth door on the right, the one that had been used for every interrogation over the past two years.

It had become something of a holding cell for the mafia’s enemies, and most didn’t remain here long. You doubted that this man would be of any exception.

Tugging him along, you increased your speed, an invisible string guiding you right back to Dazai. He was your fiery beacon, and though you were still separated by walls, your heart thumped at being so near to him.

“Eager, are we?” Tanaka asked, and when he grinned in the lights, you realized how slimy it was, a hunger dripping off the edges of his yellowed teeth.

You smiled right back, but it was forceful, painful as it etched its way onto your cheeks. An itch started in the cracks of your palm, willing you to snatch it out of Tanaka’s hand and scrub it clean. Still, you held on, remembering that this was for the Port Mafia, this was for Dazai and everything you’d worked for over the years.Your determination increased tenfold. “It’s just around the corner.”

Finally, you reached the room where you knew Dazai would be waiting, and just like every other time you’d done this, every time you’d brought another willing victim into a den of wolves, you could finally relax.

You entered the room, not bothering to flip on any of the light switches. There was furniture, but it was dusty, bloody, and it would make it far too obvious that you were not leading Tanaka back to your bedroom. You didn’t want him turning tail too quickly, running when he discovered you had no intention of rolling around in the sheets with him.

He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, advancing on you like a hunter. It would’ve been threatening, intimidating perhaps, if you had not been able to sense Dazai on the other side of the wall. You knew that whatever control Tanaka thought he had on the situation had quickly evaporated, and it was only a false blanket of security that he’d wrapped himself up in.

“Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?” you asked, stopping Tanaka with a flat palm to his chest, not allowing him to come any closer. “The alcohol in me is starting to wear off.”

He ignored your wishes entirely, upon you once more. One larger hand ripped yours from his chest, pulling you just another inch closer. “I’ve had enough tonight,” Tanaka said, teeth flashing in the dim starlight. “I’m dying to fuck you.”

You frowned, eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, I’d like a drink first.”

“I’m not in the mood.” He yanked on your hand again, and this time, you knew he’d kiss you, knew he’d plant the cracking pale lips of his own on yours. The thought of it made you ill.

Without thinking, you slung a fist across his face, a crunch sounding from his nose at the force of your hit. Blood trickled from one nostril, flowing in a fast stream over his lips, into his teeth.

He bent over, and you stood, straighter, staring over him as he cursed. The punch had been much more forceful than you’d intended.

“What the fuck.” He was angrier than before, and though his pain was immense, it did little to dissuade him. You kept your face hard, inching backwards as he stood tall, so much bigger than you’d remembered. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift you, throw you onto any surface he wanted.

You’d use your ability if you had to, kill the man if it was necessary, but that would mean the entire plan had gone to waste.

“You bitch—”

Without letting any fear cloud your face, you took a step back and bumped into something solid and warm. A cologne more familiar than Tanaka’s enveloped you in a safety net. 

The older man made it one step further, aggressively, before every ounce of determination waned from his eyes. He staggered, tripping over himself and stared back at the man that had slowly come up behind you. The one that was brushing soft fingertips between your shoulder blades, his steady breath tickling the crown of your head.

Dazai smiled, in a way that was so menacing that your heart thumped twice in its chest before resuming its natural melody. Tanaka took a step back, scrambling away, nearly tripping over himself in the process, eyes dilated in fear.

“You,” he breathed. “Dazai—” Tanaka didn’t finish his sentence, too stunned as he stared between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

Dazai stepped forward, letting his hands fall away from you as he cornered the newest addition to his long list of enemies. Already, you missed the warmth of Dazai’s touch, the security that came with his proximity.

Tanaka cowered before him, suddenly so small, weak under the breadth of Dazai’s power. A sense of twisted satisfaction curled within you, lightning up every pore under your cold skin.

“I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Dazai said, and his tone was even, hard, not a hint of amusement laced within the words. Tanaka’s eyes darted to you, where you stood with your arms loose at your sides, eyes softer, every inch of you more delicate now that Dazai was in the room. 

“Wife—” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it, hesitant. “You said you didn’t know him. You asked me questions about him.”

You slid the ring back onto your finger, the one that you’d kept tucked away in the pocket of your bag. It glimmered in the beams of the moon, the diamond and rubies sparkling. “I can lie just as easily as a man can.” Crossing your arms, you sighed, and stared at Dazai’s taut back, the strained muscles in his shoulders as he stood over Tanaka. “You’re all so stupid sometimes. It only takes a simple question, and you never ask it. Anyone in that club could’ve told you who I am.”

He balked, considering his own ignorance, and followed your eyes back to Dazai, who had gone just a few steps behind you, to the small storage of top-shelf alcohol that you kept locked up in the room. “What is this about?” he asked, shaking his head to clear away his distress. “You’ve obviously brought me here for a reason. What is it?”

“I find it funny that you think you’re the one in control of the situation,” Dazai said, turning his back to fix himself a drink. He didn’t doubt that you would watch Tanaka for him with careful eyes. Even the smallest twitch of his eyebrows would be telling. “You don’t get to ask questions.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he said, and though his voice was hard, there was underlying panic. “I’ve stayed well out of the Mafia’s business, as promised—”

“Perhaps.” Dazai interrupted smoothly, coolly. “Our agreement wasn’t broken, per se. I just happen to think that working with outsiders is an act of much higher treason.”

Tanaka blinked, faltering. His jaw went slack, a mere second ticking before he replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try to lie to me.” Dazai glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about Dostoevsky. The rats that are trying to take over my city.” He tsked, rolling the glass around on the counter, clinking it against the granite. Then, he popped a crystal bottle open, letting it fill a quarter of the glass.  “Such a shame. You’ve built quite a name for yourself in Yokohama. Is this really worth losing all that?”

Tanaka stuck both hands in his pocket, shaking his head vigorously. His fingers flexed against his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who that is, I’ve never crossed anyone by that name.”

Seeing an opportunity while Dazai’s back was turned, Tanaka began to pull out a pistol from his coat; one you had, stupidly, forgotten to check for. It seemed he doubted that you were a threat, and if he could just kill Dazai, you’d be an easy target.

You moved without thinking, making the single-step distance between you and Dazai. There was a gun relaxed at his waistband, and you stole it, knowing exactly where he kept it hidden. Before Tanaka could point his own at the head of your lover, you’d acted first, aiming Dazai’s gun, your jaw tense and back straight. “Put it down.”

Tanaka, caught off guard, locked his jaw, and his fingers twisted tighter around the handle of the gun, inching towards the trigger. For a moment, he contemplated, but even without knowing the thoughts in his mind, you could read his actions.

You wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do as he wanted. Instead, you fired your own gun, digging the bullet into his fingers, shattering them, blood spattering as Tanaka dropped the pistol to the floor in a ghoulish scream.

For a second more, he writhed in pain at your own hand, once again. You held your arm taut, before letting the gun drop to your side as Dazai hummed behind you. Tanaka had fallen to his knees, tears welling up, his vision glossy as he dropped the maimed hand to his thighs.

Dazai came up beside you, smiling at you, and brushed his fingers down your arm. Slowly, he took the gun, placing it back into his waistband, his touch electric on every centimeter of your skin. “You’ve handled it beautifully, my love.” Dazai squeezed your hand, tilting his head so dark hair cleared away from his eyes. “I can take it from here.”

You nodded, and though Dazai was, by no means, pushing you out of the room, he could see how exhausted you’d become by the whole ordeal. If you wanted to leave—and you did—he wouldn’t object.

“Will you be long?” you asked, just a whisper over Tanaka’s heavy breaths of pain.

Dazai laughed easily, his breath ghosting the bridge of your nose. “Akutagawa will be here soon.” A touch lingered on your hands for a minute longer before he pulled away completely. “Then, I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

It was already late, but you’d take whatever time you could get with Dazai, even if you were drained. You nodded, and he turned away, going back towards his enemy, pulling Tanaka up roughly by his collar. Dazai’s expression changed into a man you almost didn’t recognize, if it hadn’t been for the moments that you’d had to see him shift into the underworld’s fearsome demon.

You left the room, yawning, Dazai’s voice the last thing you heard before you shut the door silently.

“Now that you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps you’ll be more willing to tell me everything you know,” he said.

Despite Dazai promising to leave once Akutagawa arrived, he’d been gone for nearly two hours, with no indication that he’d be returning anytime soon.

You waited for him in the penthouse of the Port Mafia headquarters, the home you’d come to know well in the past few years. A glass of imported wine was beside you on the nightstand, resting between a book you’d been too tired to read before bed.

You sat up, unable to fall asleep, and chewed your lip thoughtfully. It seemed ridiculous, really, for you to already miss a man that you woke up next to and fell asleep beside every night.

Still, you couldn’t help the desperation in your chest, the need to see him, to brush the mask of the Port Mafia boss away so Osamu could take his place.  

You finished the wine, then headed towards the door. The room felt cold and lonely, and if Dazai wasn’t going to return soon, you’d just find someone else to bother on the lower levels of the building.

Though, just as you were about to slip on a pair of shoes, the door unlocked, swung on its hinges, and Dazai stepped through the threshold, a vision of gore and violence and every ounce the man you adored.

“Osamu,” you said, and even when you’d said his name a thousand times before, it still left your lips like a prayer. A smile formed, and you dropped your shoes, eyes sparkling, as you regarded the mess that he was in.

Dazai took one look at you and relaxed, shoulders falling as you closed the distance between the two of you. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he said, craning his taller frame down to kiss you.

You gripped the lapels of his coat, holding on tight as you pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Dazai’s bloody fingers cupped your cheeks, smearing red along your jaw, ruining your clean skin. Though, as you exhaled a sigh deep into his mouth, you couldn’t have cared less.

“I thought you said Akutagawa was going to take care of it?” you asked as Dazai released you, offering you a small, almost defeated smile.

He walked past you, towards the bathroom, feet dragging as he shrugged off his dark coat. Under the crisp top, his muscles were stiff, strained from all the stress. He wiped another hand over his face, doing little to clean up the mess of red that remained on his cheeks.

You followed him, trailing a few feet behind, feeling silly for wanting to cling to him so tightly. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of him, and you watched as Dazai remained silent, pausing in front of the mirror to regard his own appearance. He made a face in the glass as he gazed back into his own expression, sticking his hands under the faucet. The water ran in a steady stream, staining the sink a rose color as he scrubbed the blood from his fingers, his nails. There were parts of his bandages that had been soiled, and he ripped them right off, exposing pale wrists that hadn’t seen the sun in ages.

You mimicked his action, washing your hands in the second sink before scrubbing the blood from your face, clearing away the smear of maroon that he’d put there. The water shut off, briefly, and Dazai regarded you, frowning as you rid the evidence of his crime from yourself.

“I sent Akutagawa home.” Dazai finally answered your previous question and sighed, frustration evident. He stretched his hands over his head, the bones popping in one fell swoop. “Tanaka cracked right open; he really didn’t know anything.” He blinked at himself in the mirror once more, tidied his hair, then scowled. “He’s just a low man on the totem pole, and he paid for it with his life.”

Dazai seemed at odds with himself, and he drummed his nails against the countertop before patting his hands dry. The blood had been cleaned from his skin, and even though his hair was still unkempt, it was the only evidence that any wrongdoing had happened at all. Nothing but a speck of blood remained on his collar, the rest garnishing his coat instead.

You shifted, leaning against the counter. “Did you get anything out of him?”

“Names, a location.” Dazai clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. “He wasn’t lying, but who knows if they’re real or not. He could’ve been given fake locations. I’ve asked Ango to check on it.”

Dazai, once again, left you standing, contemplative, in the bathroom. You could hear him shuffle around in the other room; he released a small sound of relief as he stretched out his sore muscles.

When he’d finished moving around, you returned to the other room, and he was settled in the red armchair, legs spread out in front of him. Dazai rested his head against the back cushion, his eyes closed in serenity, a deep exhale expelling the tightness in his body.

It was almost a sight too serene to spoil.

“Do you want some space?” you asked, and though you’d always respect his wishes, that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You wanted to consume him completely, to press yourself against every crevice of his being and swallow him whole.

Dazai opened his eyes and blinked at you. Instead of replying, he smiled, slowly, and gestured to his thighs, sparing a glance at his knees.

Your heart pounded, launching its way up your throat, and you scrambled over yourself to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, the muscle strong beneath you.

Gently, he smiled at you, and brushed your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, and slowly, you removed the bandage from his eye, hating whenever he tried to hide any part of himself from you.

You waited for him to protest, but he relented, and let you kiss his forehead, the very darkest parts of himself on display for you alone. It was hard not to collapse under the weight of your love for him.

You discarded the bandages, tossing them onto the table as Dazai tapped a pattern in the crevices of your skin.

For a moment, neither of you said a word. You noted every feature of his that you loved so dearly, and Dazai just watched you study him, tried hard not to smile against your lips when you kissed him.

If only he could see how beautiful he was, surely, he would understand that he deserved a life so much better than the one he’d been dealt. That someone with a smile brighter than a dying star shouldn’t have it taken away by years of endless anguish.

Finally, Dazai spoke, whispering your name in a tone he never used on any word but that one. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head, so distracted by the endless galaxy within his eyes.

Dazai huffed, placing a possessive hand on your hip. His thumb grazed the bone and you shivered, smiling at him in confusion.

“Sweetheart, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re obligated to do something just because you’re my wife.” He looked past you, an uncertainty beneath his words that he was ashamed of. “If you don’t want to take on any more assignments—"

“I told you already, Osamu,” you began, brushing the hair at the back of his neck that was hidden beneath the collar. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, but—” Dazai hesitated, his gaze steady on the doors behind you, the ones that led to your bedroom. Somehow, he seemed to think all the answers would be there, a script written out for him to recite to you. “Chuuya brought it up to me earlier. He said that I’m…” Dazai swallowed the words, shaking his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to promise me that you know if you want to stop, you can stop. Even if you wanted to quit the Port Mafia altogether, I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

You smiled, kissing the wrinkle between his eyebrows in the hope that it would ease the anxiety in his expression. The tension was such an unusual thing for anyone but you to see, as Dazai had such trouble revealing his vulnerabilities to the world.

“I promise.” You swept your thumb over his lip, watching as it bounced right back into place, so soft and lovely. “I just don’t want to quit.” You leaned back on his lap, so you were able to see the entirety of his face.  

Dazai’s eyebrows drew together once more, putting that worry right back on his appearance, and a part of you hated that of all the things he had to be stressed about, it was something as silly as you not wanting to quit your job.

“Why?” Dazai asked, tilting his chin, searching the depths of your soul for an answer that would appease him. “I don’t understand. You hate them; you tell me you hate them every time they try and lay a finger on you.”

He wasn’t wrong, certainly not about something like that. You loathed that men looked at you like you were something that they could just steal away, like they were entitled to the subtle way that they brushed your hip in passing, caressed your back when they walked behind you.

You just didn’t hate everything about the work you’d been doing. After all, it was your idea.

“I just don’t want to,” you said, looking over his shoulder to the open curtains, the bright expanse of Yokohama laid out before you. Twinkling star lights from skyscrapers and the port in the distance. “It doesn’t matter.”

It was your home, your city, and it always would be. You wouldn’t let Dazai die, wouldn’t let anyone take him from you—including himself. You’d continue to do whatever it took to protect that. Whether or not you used your appearance to achieve those ends didn’t matter. When it was all said and done, Dazai’s enemies would be dead, and you’d still have him to come home to.

“It matters to me.”

You shook your head, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. There were a million different ways you could’ve explained it, but none that were intelligent. “It’s embarrassing, ‘samu.”

Dazai laughed, a genuine noise, and kissed your shoulder as you sighed, relaxing into him once more. “I can’t think of anything about you that could possibly be embarrassing.”

You held his gaze, wishing for him to relent, to just give up and let you have this one. Instead, he just smiled back patiently, hoping you’d reveal another part of yourself to him as he slowly traced your hard collarbone.

Those pools behind his eyes were too distracting, the thumb on your neck dangerously close to your throbbing pulse. You swallowed, letting him feel every movement as your throat bobbed up and down.

“I guess,” you said shyly, “I like it. I like leading on your enemies, letting them think that they could possibly have a chance with someone like me. I like the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been made a fool of, that the girl who they wanted so badly belongs so completely to the boss of the Port Mafia.”

Dazai studied you for a moment as you shrugged the revelation off, his deep brown eyes darting over every crevice of your face. “You want to make them jealous of me?”

“Maybe.” Your cheeks heated, and though you’d been together for years, loved him for even longer, you still shied under the weight of your own desire for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want them all to know that I’m as much the boss of the Port Mafia as you.” You wound your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him, the only person you’d ever need in the dangerous world. “They’re blind to their desire, and they refuse to see that I have complete control over them.” You smiled, lazily, fondly. “Don’t they know that this is my city, too?”

Dazai’s strength made an appearance then, and he gripped your cheeks, holding you with a spiraled mix of possession and affection. “It is,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own, “and I’d burn it all down before I let anyone take it from you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his deepened tone, the seriousness that drew on his normally playful inflection. You grew hot, and a twist of desire started deep within you, spreading down easily, slowly turning your thoughts into a muddled mess.

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your words steady as Dazai drew lazy circles up and down your sides. “Everyone knows.” You met his eyes, soft, yet dark, clouded with a longing you weren’t unfamiliar to. “The woman who brought them to their knees is still nothing more than a simple fool for Osamu Dazai.” You inhaled drawing your fingers to his open collar, the crisp bandages around his chest. “What could they ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?”

Dazai waited, watched your smaller hand run across his neck, his smirk slowly growing on his lips. “I’m a lucky man, indeed,” he said, drawing the words out slow and lazily. He tipped your chin down to him, his smile displaying the almost sharpened points of his canines. Slender fingers caressed your hipbone, pressing you farther down onto his thigh.

You let out a small sound, not taking your eyes off of his as his expression grew wily, and the slip you wore slowly began to rise up your thighs, exposing the softer skin of your leg.

“I admit, I can’t stand that everyone in this city wants you so fucking bad.” Dazai sunk his lips to your neck, kissing the space between your shoulder and jaw. “But I can’t blame them. My beautiful angel.” He smiled under your jaw, gripping your hips harder, forcing you to drag against his thigh. A puff of air left your throat as Dazai grinned, spiking your arousal. “It’s for the best, isn’t it? I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”

Your eyes flashed; Dazai bounched his leg, just once, his eyes shining, every move calculated. He’d always known exactly how to touch you, and he’d never forget, never stop enjoying the way you jerked so easily under his palm, the way you were already trying to rub yourself against him.

“Osamu,” you began, desperate for just a moment of friction, to feel his rigid muscle drag against your cunt. You wanted him so badly that your heart stumbled over itself, all the love you held, locked up there and looking for a way out.

He made a sound of disapproval, holding you still with a tight grip on your hips. His fingers dug into the bone, but it did little to ease your aching need for him.

“See?” Dazai’s kisses were light as he whispered against the shell of your ear, the sound nothing more than a breath of air. “I barely have to touch you and you’re a whimpering mess.”

You swallowed, tugging at the hair at the base of his scalp, trying to remain steady, if only for him to give you what you wanted.

Dazai seemed to be in a generous mood, worn from the previous mission, and he was grinning lazily, two fingers slipping under your dress.

His grip loosened, and you shifted, letting him pull on the strap of your panties, drag them down your thighs, over your knees, to discard beside the chair. Already, there was evidence of your desire, a spot of wetness obvious against the red satin.

He let the garment hang between his fingers before he looked back at you, watching as it softly fell to the floor. “If only they knew how easy it was to get you wet,” he said, shrewdly, “they’d want you twice as much as they did before.”

You let out a soft whimper, trying to direct his beautiful hands back between your thighs. Though, Dazai kept his fingers away, and in an act of desperation, you pressed your forehead to his, conveying every ounce of your affection for him.

“Osamu,” you breathed, blinking into his warm irises, a shade of brown that had easily become your favorite. “I’m so crazy about you.” You kissed his cheeks, smearing your lip gloss all over the skin he’d just wiped clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Everyone in Yokohama watches me, but I ache for you.”

His eyes flashed, pleased, and he relented, nudging his thumb to the inner most part of your thigh. The smile was still mocking, but he gave you at least some relief; Dazai let you sink back down on his thigh, the pressure just enough to have you clawing your nails into his chest.

He kissed your nose, but kept you where you were, perched on the middle of his leg and much too far from his cock. “What would you ever do if I wasn’t here to take care of you, hm, darling?"

You softened; even if his gaze was taunting, there was utter devotion between his dilated pupils.

All those men who fell for your act may have been complete fools, but Dazai was even worse off than them: he was a fool in love.

“It’s so hard not to crawl into your arms every time you’re around,” you admitted, grabbing the buckle of his belt to undo it with a clank. The mere sound, the feel of the leather between your fingers, nearly had you salivating. “I’m stronger than a lot of men in Yokohama.” Your features contorted then, eyes vulnerable as you looked up at him through delicate lashes, no longer a vision of authority, but of someone who desperately wanted to be taken care of. “Not you, though.”

Dazai’s grip on you relaxed, and something in his eyes shifted, lips parting as an exhale left them. He said nothing as you removed the belt, and instead, let himself sink deeper into the cushion, bearing your weight.

Hastily, you pulled down the zipper of his slacks. The weight of his heavy cock in your hands was so familiar. You stroked him gently, watching for any reaction, and while his face remained steady, you could sense the change in his heartbeat.

“I don’t need you to be strong around me,” Dazai said. His voice had deepened, your name leaving his lips, raspy by the end of his sentence. “You can fall apart if you want to, my love.” His erection grew slowly in your palm, and he brought you closer, your bare, soaked cunt dragging against his thigh. “I’ll always be here to put you back together.”

You smiled, flushing as he hardened, his breath growing uneven. When you had him leaking within your palm, you shifted forward on your knees, grinning at his reddened cheeks. Dazai’s eyes drifted towards your chest, just inches from his face.  

Uncertain, you hesitated, even though you wanted him, needed him with every fiber of your being. It was an unfamiliar position. He could take control of the situation at any moment, but you weren’t usually the one looming over him.

“Osamu—”

“What?” he released with a sigh, and in one swift motion, lifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. “You walk around my nightclub in those dresses I buy you, force those pretty tits into other men’s faces, but now you’re too shy to fuck your husband?”

You made a face, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and if only to prove a point, you sunk down on him, your folds slick. Dazai slid into you easily, a sinful noise breaking the silence between you as he grinned. “I’ll f-fuck you,” you stuttered, swallowing under the heat of his watchful eyes. “It’s just…” Your words failed again as his cock went deeper in you, your focus entirely on your own pleasure.

“Just what?” He stopped you for a moment, planting you on his thighs, his cock still straining, filling you. Glaring, vibrating with need, you opened your eyes, lips parting as he whispered against your mouth “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”  

“It’s not my fault, Osamu,” you said, on the edge of a whine, squirming within his hold. “I can’t help that they stare.”

He laughed, then, and it was just a brush against your swollen mouth, the one he kept coming back to. “They can stare all they want,” Dazai said, tilting your chin up. “As long as they know who you belong to.”

Finally, he let you go, his hands tracing the edges of your knees, and you started a slow, steady pace, gasping as you held onto his neck tightly. He bowed his head into your collarbone, and kissed you once, before leaning back lazily, watching you take and take and take.

“Doing so good, angel,” he said, watching you with such a passion that it was distracting, as he let his palms rest simply on your thighs. “You always look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?”

“Feels so good,” you muttered.

“I know.” Dazai seemed too devilish with his dark hair fanned out against the red chair, grinning in a way that twisted up your insides, sweat beading down your forehead as you tried to reach your orgasm.

You were hot with his piercing gaze upon you, but he didn’t bother to move his hands, did nothing to even pretend like he was fazed. You sunk down faster, heart racing, as the muscles of your hips strained, burned. Already, you were growing tired, sleepy from a full evening, but still so desperate to come around him.

You leaned forward, trying to angle your body, gain some relief from the position. Though it did little, and instead you were left sighing in frustration, wishing that he would do anything, instead of just look at you with a lust blown smile.

With every moment, the pain began to grow, the ache in your legs far too much to give way to pleasure. You started back at Dazai, frustrated, eyes glossy with need.

Dazai laughed at you then; it wasn’t quite mocking, but it wasn’t kind either. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Frustrated and impatient as you dripped down your own thighs, you grabbed his throat, thrusting his head into the back of the chair.

Dazai, eyes wide with surprise, stopped smiling as you curled your hand around his neck, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Are you just going to sit there, Osamu?” you said, your words high-pitched and desperate. “Or are you going to—”

The end of your sentence was cut off by him gripping the back of your hair, smashing your lips into his own. The hand on his neck fell away, drifting to the lapels of his bloodstained collar, as he brought you down hard on his cock, hitting a place deep inside you that you hadn’t been able to reach with your own strength.

Dazai’s fingertips left bruises on your skin as he devoured the inside of your mouth, bringing you down over and over, stretching your walls with each movement.

“So pretty and desperate for me,” Dazai laughed, but he was breathless, his own tenacity crumbling from adoration. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you, baby?” His kisses were sloppy as he dragged them across your neck, tongue grazing the sharp vein under your ear.

“No, but you said—” you were losing your breath and your words. “You said you’d take care of me. I don’t want to cum all on my own, ‘samu.”

Dazai groaned, his gaze drifting down to the space between your bodies, where you were sucking him back in, your own body aligned with your heart, never wanting to let him go.

“Fuck,” he said, slamming you back down on his thighs, his eyes hazy with love. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” One hand guided your hips as the other curled around your jaw, setting the pace with half his strength. “You’re my whole world.” His words stuttered, aching cock twitching inside you. “I’m nothing without you, understand?”

You nodded, but you weren’t quite thinking straight, the words a jumbled mess when they entered your mind. “I love you,” you said, gasping the end of his name. “I love you, Osamu, need more.”

Dazai breathed, just as heavily, softening as he regarded you. He’d always loved the look on your face as you came apart. “You take it so well,” he said eyelids fluttering over hazy eyes, and he kissed your forehead. You dragged your hands all over his chest, just wanting to touch any part of him. “Wish you could see yourself. You’re so beautiful.”

You groaned, pulling him closer, until there was nowhere left to go, surrounded completely by Dazai; the smell of him, the taste of him. “Say it back,” you muttered, “say you love me too.”

He choked on a laugh, and the lewd sounds of your wet arousal were loud as he came in and out of you. “I love you, angel, you know how much I love you.” Dazai kissed you, then, and your heart sped at how hoarse his voice had become, how easily it was for you to make the most powerful man in Yokohama fall apart at the seams. “You’ve got a pretty ring to prove it, don’t you? I don’t want anyone but you. I never will.”

“Come inside me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as his cock reached impossibly deep within you, stretching you, your legs shaking as you tried to ignore the dull ache within your tense muscles. Tears sprang to your eyes, coating your lashes; it was almost devastating how much you loved him. “Please. Feel so full, ‘samu.”

“Yeah?” He reached between you to play with your clit, and you were so close, crying out a broken moan as he touched you. “Need to remind everyone that you’re my girl, hm?” He knew just how you liked to be touched, how easy it was to get you to come when he fucked you like you needed. “Want me to put a baby in you next, sweetheart? Shit.” He curled his fingers, bruising your mouth as he stole the oxygen from your chest. “Everyone would know then, wouldn’t they? How could they doubt you’re mine when you’re carrying my child.”

You cried out, then, breaking, spasming around his cock as you fell onto his chest. Dazai said your name, kissed the top of your head, but you were too full of love for him. You breathed heavily as he brought you down once more, twitching against him from the ache in your sensitive cunt.

A moment later, Dazai jerked, then came inside you, spilling his warm cum against your folds, the white ropes dripping down your thighs, staining his dark, wrinkled slacks. Slowly, he pulled out of you, letting you rest on his chest as you breathed, your legs sore. A gentle touch ran up and down your spine as Dazai wrapped his arms tight around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“God, you’re perfect,” Dazai said, and his voice sounded almost broken, devastatingly emotional. “You can’t ever leave me, okay, angel? I need you right here by my side.” Lips grazed your temple, so sweetly, gently. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t share it with you?”

You smiled, resting your head in the crook of his neck, eyes full of tears as you kissed him. “I’m not going anywhere, Osamu. I promise.”

KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

tag list: @satohruu (hannah i planned this one bc of your tags on my last pm dazai fic HDSFHSFH) @cha0thicpisces

[with-my-calamitous-love]

more gentlemen thoughts 🪩🎧

gentleman! dazai, who tucks your bangs behind your ear when he’s talking to you. who leans down so you can whisper in his ear. who gifts you annotated books and back hugs. who loves to kiss that spot under your ear after whispering something for just you to hear. who always walks with your hand in his.

gentleman! chuuya, who loves to carry you bridle-style. who spoils you rotten, because he loves the smile on your face when he gets you little gifts. who won’t leave for missions without giving you a spectacular date night- nice dinner, fancy wine, and making sure your body remembers him the next morning. who loves when you wear heels, even if it makes you taller than him <3

gentleman! ranpo, who sleeps in with you. who won’t open a bag of sweets before making sure you’ve had a piece first. who praises you as much as you praise him, calling you the best and reminding you how much he loves you. who is so cheeky it makes you blush. who absolutely knows the effect he has on you. who leaves kisses on your cheeks when you least expect it.

gentleman! atsushi, who religiously practices the sidewalk rule. who is RESPECTFUL TO YOUR PARENTS 😩, who is really good with younger siblings/cousins. who also loves to carry you around, whether its princess-style or on his back. who loves taking you on dates after a long week, kissing your head and making sure you’re happy.

gentleman! akutagawa, who reminds you of appointments you forget about. who very rigidly hands you a coat, scarf and mittens because its flu season. who helps you cook and clean, a surprisingly good homemaker. who is the driest texter on earth, but who will show up to your workplace to check on you when you don’t respond (he’s definitely not worried and he definitely does not care.) (he does.)

gentleman! kunikida, who opens every door for you. who will walk behind you when you’re going up the stairs, looking down when you’re wearing a skirt to give you privacy. who keeps pads, hair ties, touch up makeup, lip balm, or any of your needs ready in his notebook in case you need it. who wants to keep your relationship to himself, private, but who also will happily talk about you any chance he gets.

gentleman! odasaku, who is a great listener. who holds your hand and actively asks about your day, wanting to hear everything. you leaves you little love notes in your bag, on the fridge or on your desk. who will not leave the house without telling you he loves you. who tells you he loves you when he wakes up, before he sleeps and whenever he gets the chance to. who dedicated all his books and short stories to you. 🫧

[remlionheart]

Dazai with a reader who got a HUGE oral kink, like they just cant stop giving him oral

₊ ⊹MDNI₊ ⊹

ft. whiney, whimpering, overstimulated dazai :(((

Dazai had little to no self control when it came to most things in life, but especially when it involved the feeling of your soft lips wrapped around his overly sensitive tip. The content little hums you'd let out in between breaths while you flattened your tongue and ran it faithfully up his length for the third time in only a few hours.

"Oh - fuck, fuck... fuck." He groaned, teetering on the verge of overstimulation. He wasn't sure what he'd done to get so lucky. Wasn't sure what he'd ever done so right to deserve a girl that loved to devour him the way that you did, but god damn, was he thankful to whatever divine intervention had led him to you.

Every time he thought there was no possible way he had another drop of cum left to spare, you somehow always managed to coax it out of him anyway.

“Angel,” he nearly whimpered, little tremors hitting his slender body in waves, making his legs shake against the firm grasp of your palm. “I’m - mmm, so… sens...itive - hah-”

His breathy obscenities went straight to your center, making you all the more determined to take him in deeper. A mixture of guttural moans and lewd slurping filled the room as you continued to grind against his leg. Your clit desperately searching for friction while your hand and mouth worked in perfect synchronicity against him.

“You want me to stop?" You asked, batting your eyes up at him through heavy lashes. You already knew the answer from how feverishly he kept thrusting into you though, his tip hitting the back of your throat in a way that slurred and strained your words. "All you have to do... is - tell me to stop... and I will...."

His mind was on fire - stuck somewhere between wanting you to go slower and faster. Easier and harder. "S'too much, angel" and "Don't you dare fucking stop."

He was delirious, spilling out the prettiest, whiniest noises as his long fingers tangled into your hair while he watched you. His mouth dropping open in awe. "I can take it." He gritted out, not ready to pull himself away from the salacious warmth your tongue was gracing him with. "I can take it. Keep going."

It was cute, how hard he tried to seem in control while being at the mercy of your touch.

"I just want one more," your voice was velvet across his tender skin, pleasure mixing with pain as you let out the softest demands. "You're doing so good," you praised, noting the way his eyes had began to roll back. "Good boy, just like that."

Having two switches in a relationship could be a real problem sometimes - neither one of you easily willing to submit to the other. It was a competition almost in the way that you'd both fight for dominance, but today - oh today, you had him right where you wanted him. Even if he wanted to deny it, he couldn't. Not with the way he was writhing under you and whimpering out your name in the neediest voice you'd ever heard from him. Cock twitching when the words, "good boy" left your mouth.

"Give me one more, baby. Just one more." You let the spit that you'd gathered up pool down over his shaft as your hollowed out your cheeks to take him in further, trying not to smile at the way his hips bucked up towards you. His grip tightening in your hair as more incoherent little nothings echoed out into the space between you. "Yeah, there you go. Look at you, you're so close."

"I'm -" he struggled, his pretty brown eyes nearly watering from how overwhelmed his senses were. "Fuck” he hissed. “I’m gonna -”

Your stare locked with his, a wicked smile splitting across your face as his release coated the back of your throat. Cum leaking graciously down your chin as you swallowed every last drop you could before placing a light kiss on his tip, admiring how swollen and perfectly pink it was.

He wasn’t sure if it was an angel or the devil himself that had brought you into his life with the beautifully depraved way you were looking back at him, but either way - he was fucking thankful.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[sahisan]

chuuya is always hot.

no, not like that.

his body is always hot.

again, not that.

arahabaki keeps his body warm, no, hot, 24/7 and it's such a blissful addition to what he already presents.

and it's all about how he constantly keeps you warm on all occasions, and even when you two aren't particularly close enough—maybe a meter or so between the two of you—the heat emanates from him and you're able to feel it either way.

it's very cold in winter and you're out and forgot your gloves? chuuya's warm hands are right there, either stopping to heat yours up while rubbing them and blowing some hot air onto them, or just getting one of them in his pocket with his own hand already interlacing your fingers together. he rubs your reddened from the cold cheeks and pokes your, the same color as your cheeks, nose, and you can already feel the warmth spreading all over the places along with your whole body.

sometimes you wonder why the hell he even needs floor heating in his penthouse when he's right there. a walking heater. a volcano in the human body ("oh, c'mon, shut it."). it actually matches his fiery-red hair so well, you once thought. chuuya interlaces your legs together at night, tangling his own in yours, and the amount of heat under the blanket you share together actually sends pleasant, warm tingles to the tips of your feet.

chuuya's mouth is also very hot. do you see where i'm going with this? once your and his lips meet and, no matter who slips their tongue into whose mouth, the kiss is always boiling hot—his tongue is, the inside of his mouth is, the hand that reaches for the back of your neck is. it becomes borderline scorching hot with his hands starting to roam all over your body, like you've wrapped yourself in a hundred heating pads, and it feels just so right.

chuuya is hot in both ways, and he does take great pride in it.

[chuuyrr]

KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US — DAZAI OSAMU

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, suggestive (kissing, touching, and making out in the office), dazai being a menace, established relationship, mentions of marriage, lovesick! dazai

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which he wants you, and for you two to get caught

inspired by: agora hills by doja cat !

dazai osamu could never keep his hands to himself. he was dazai for goodness sake, and he has no shame, especially when it comes to you.

he enjoys being near to you at work just as much as he enjoys being with you in private. so, dazai takes every opportunity to be with you, whether it's holding your hand or twirling a strand of your hair in his hand while you work on reports, subtly leaning his head against your shoulder, or secretly squeezing your thigh, and he always loves the pink blush that spreads on your cheeks as you whisper yell him about pda.

but that's what makes it so difficult for him; dazai loves you too much to keep you a secret. you were his, and he wants everyone to know who you belong to, as well as who he belongs to.

you were about halfway through the papers given to you by the president when dazai slides next to you in his swivel chair, whining as he clings to your arm, "belladonna!~"

"osamu, i'm busy," you smile and giggle, but you quickly switch up, changing your tone as you sigh and flick his forehead, prompting a tiny scream and pout from him, "busy doing the papers you should be doing, mister."

"oh, come on! everyone has already gone out for lunch, and we're the only ones left here!" dazai grumbles as he wraps his arms around you after rubbing his forehead.

"and you insisted on staying with me! ugh, well maybe if you helped me, we can both get some lunch like the oth—" your eyes widen as dazai snatches the papers from your desk, putting them out of your reach and even causing some of the notepads and pens you had on your desk to roll off.

you gasp sharply, opening your mouth to scold him, but he slams his lips against yours, earning you a groan from him.

dazai's hands reach for your waist as he feverishly kisses you, his warm lips pressing deeply yet eagerly against yours.

you turn your face away, attempting to avoid his kiss as you let out a soft whine, trying to tell him off, "not now, osamu!"

but, alas, he closes the gap between you once more, this time much closer as his hands tenderly slide down and hold your hips to pull you into his lap.

dazai feels you squirm on his lap and finds himself chuckling in between the kisses, but he simply holds you firmly, one hand tenderly carressing your hip and the other now on the back of your neck to hold you in place.

how could he resist such a work of art as you? the way the sunlight from the window delicately highlights your face just for him to admire as your hair frames everything perfectly like icing on a cake, and don't even get him started on how you always smell so sweet like vanilla with your perfume.

dazai loves every single part of you and feels the need to be always closer to you, so he has his attention on you like a moth to a flame as you were a temptation for him.

you're so warm and plush in his embrace, and you can feel his warmth seeping through your clothes as much as his hands tenderly hold you in place on his lap.

"m-mmh, osamu. please—" you try to speak again, but he shuts you up with his lips once more, his kiss a demand as well as a declaration of love and desire.

"hush for a second, pretty girl," dazai's breath tickles your lips as he pulls away just a fraction before his lips were on yours again.

"then stop eating my face," you whine softly, grabbing his shoulders and successfully yanking your face away from him.

"aww, and why should i?" dazai says, smirking as he caresses your hip with one hand while the other glides from the back of your neck to your cheek to cup it, "you're just so tempting my dear."

"w-we're at work!" you stammer, squirming on his lap once more, "now put me down or else we might get caught, osamu!"

"too bad," dazai rolls his eyes at you, pinching your cheek before pulling you by the chin, so you were now nose-to-nose with each other.

you feel blood rush into your cheeks at his proximity, and even more so when he says the following words to you.

"i want us to get caught."

at this point, your face was on fire. in fact, the room—no, everything becomes too hot all of a sudden, prompting you to raise your voice out of surprise, "w-what? are you crazy?!"

"crazy in love with you, that is," dazai winks at you before tracing your cheek with his nose, trailing it down as his breath tickles your neck this time, and his breathy voice sends tingles up and down your spine, making you unable to sit still on his lap, "and you have no idea just how far a crazy man would go for his darling angel."

"your hips are an altar i would worship anytime of the day, my love," he whispers as his hands sensually trail from your neck and waist to your hips, squeezing them as he kisses your neck.

as one of his hands began to slip under your shirt, your breaths hitch and you couldn't help but let out a soft whine, and dazai revels in the feel of your skin as he kisses your neck, writing his love on it with marks and soft groans.

"and i know heaven is a thing because i go there whenever i touch you, and whenever i'm with you, baby," he groans with indulgence as his lips continue to kiss and bite at your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt now, caressing your side, the spot just under your chest.

dazai's emotions were all over the place, but it was desire mixed with exasperation. he immerses himself in the sensation of your lips and body during the heated moment, closing the gap between you with undeniable intimacy.

"fuck, i wanna tie the knot," he says in hushed mumbles, completely in love with you.

dazai lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead against yours tenderly, his hands now cupping your face at a daydream of you that he has now engraved in his mind, "i wanna see my pretty girl in a wedding dress, walking up to me to be with me til' death do us part."

"and i just wanna show her off. tell everyone she's mine and no one else's," a soft, low growl escapes his breath as he claims your lips one more time with a feverish deep kiss to mark his territory, but this time it comes with a hint of tenderness as he strokes your cheek.

"osamu, we're gonna get caught," you say softly, your breath shaky, your hands still gripping his shoulders as he continues his assault of kisses.

"then let them catch us, sweetheart. you're mine to brag about," you feel dazai's smirk against your lips, and his hands on your hips again, but this time they're sliding down to squeeze your thighs in a firm grasp that causes you to squirm on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.

dazai then purposefully but playfully bounces you on his lap, causing you to let out a sharp gasp mixed with a whine. suddenly, you hear footsteps outside the office door just as his hands begin to slip further past, and your eyes widen. it was as if he knew your coworkers were about to return from their lunch break, and he did know that.

your heart rate increases with strange excitement and fear. you squirm and try to pull yourself up and away from his lap, but he simply holds you tighter against him, his arms now locking around your waist to keep you in place.

"h-hey, now! let me go!" you whisper yell.

"oh, no. you stay right where you are, my pretty girl. i'm not letting you go," dazai says with a grin, finding amusement in your panic, "nope."

"what are we gonna tell them if they see us like this?! kunikida is gonna scold us!"

"heh, tell em' that we were kissing and hoping they caught us~"

"OSAMU!"

⊹ A.N: happy halloween! ok, but like, after re-reading this and stuff, this was waaaay better in my head ૮꒰ つᯅ⊂ ꒱ა ՞ˎˊ˗

[riiwrites]

“dancing in the dark.”

summary : when the BSD men catch you dancing.

includes : chuuya, dazai, fyodor

request : “i was thinking what fyodor, dazai and chuuya would react if their s/o is actually a dancer and keeps it a secret from them!” - 💙

a/n: thank you so much for the request, angel!! i really tried to fit the description as you requested in your og ask, i hope it’s fit to your standards :) also tysm to my lovely poe for being my russian translator for the nicknames that fyodor uses in this fic! show him some love, they’re so so great <3 @cherrymoka222

masterlist | main page | daily click

CHUUYA

• Chuuya truly thought he knew everything about you. From your likes to dislikes, your personality traits and little silly habits. He thought he had you figured out.

• That was until, he caught you in the garden.

• Moving elegantly but so swiftly, he was in awe.

• He didn’t dare to disturb you, thinking this moment was just so perfect to ruin.

• And he thought, if you were to hide such a thing from him, how would you react if he knew? So he never confronts you about it.

• That is until, he has a better idea.

“Right, baby..I’m gonna head to bed.” Chuuya announced with a yawn, making you turn your head as you nod softly, smiling at him.

“Kay.”

He begins to walk out the room, as soon as he reaches the doorway however, he takes one last little glance at you and smiles to himself before heading off.

An hour or so later, the normal time you would often “head to bed” came around but in reality, you’re heading to your escape in the garden.

As you head towards the back door, you couldn’t help but have a sneaky feeling that something was different about tonight.

Oh how you were so right.

There stood Chuuya, still in his normal work attire with a big smirk on his face as he watched your little suspicious look turn into one of shock.

“Hey.” He says.

“..Hey..” You repeat, slowly making your way towards him. As you did, you noticed the scenery around you.

The bushes surrounding and sculpting the area were lit beautifully with fairy-lights scattered across them left to right, with a little boombox sat on a nearby table with slow jazz playing softly in the background.

“..So you know..?” You ask.

“Oh I know.” He instantly says, letting out a chuckle as he saw your flushed face out of embarrassment.

“Come now, doll..why the face? You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” He says softly, walking towards you and creating the distance between you both smaller and smaller with each passing second. “I think it’s beautiful.” He whispers as he reaches out to touch you, lifting your chin up with his gloved fingers.

You shyly locate your eyes to find his, a little hesitance in your voice as you whispered “Really?”

He nodded, his smirk now changing to a soft and comforting smile as he whispers back. “Really.” The tone in his voice sounding so sincere and full of genuine honesty made you feel giddy.

He leans in and kisses your lips ever so gently, before pulling away after a few seconds to hold out his hand towards you.

“Can I?” He asks.

You smile, nodding as you put your hand in his, and he slowly walks backwards and guides you throughout the garden, spinning you around and dancing with you in the dark as if time was nonexistent.

DAZAI

• This smug bastard already has a pretty fine idea about your talent.

• He’s already onto your every move.

• Why? Because he sees the way your eyes light up once anything dance related shows up on the screen and you look so engrossed with it.

• He thinks it’s adorable, really. He’s always known you’ve had a liking for dance.

• But, catching you whilst you’re actually dancing just like the stars on TV? Moving so graciously with your legs as you slowly make the garden your own.

• He could watch you for hours, and he did.

You walk on water like it’s fragile to touch, the little ripples appearing just below your toes as you tread ever so lightly but dance with such a powerful impact that could make everyone stop and stare.

Well, it made someone specific stop and stare.

“Wow..” You’re instantly snapped out of your thoughts as you fall straight into the water, snapping your head towards the sound of your disturbance. You shoot him a glare.

“Whaaat? Can’t I watch my beautiful bella dance like nobody’s watching?”

“Well someone’s clearly watching.” You scoff as you stand up, your lower half now drenched in water.

“I’ve been watching you for hours, Y’know~” He chimes, smirking as you step out of the water and shake your legs to remove any excess water.

“How did I not notice your eery gaze carving holes into the back of me..?” You whisper to yourself, but Dazai answers your rhetorical question anyway.

“I’ve actually known about your little talent for months now, you just haven’t spotted me. Until today when I was oh so rudely interrupted..” He sighs heavily.

“Okay, one, Joe Goldberg, cool it.” You retort as you walk towards the back door, to which he was standing in front of. “And two, you interrupted me! I would’ve kept dancing if you kept your mouth shut..”

“Oh?~” He says, his smirk only growing wider. “Is that an invitation, dear?”

You couldn’t help your blush as you look up at him, smiling a little as your annoyed facade fades. “..Maybe..”

He smiles, hopping off the steps leading to the back door and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Aren’t you just the sweetest when you’re not mad at me?” He says, then, he flicks your forehead.

“Ow!- dick..” You murmur as Dazai walks past you, giggling to himself as he reaches the bit of the garden to which you were dancing on.

“Well? Show me the VIP experience, bella.”

You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes as you rush to the pool of water as Dazais eyes follow you, waiting patiently for you to begin.

As you begin to dance and return to your concentrated look. Dazai stares with the biggest smile on his face as he watches you take the night away with your actions. God, how lucky was he?

And he could’ve sworn he fell in love with you all over again, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

FYODOR

• Like Dazai, he knows about your liking towards dancing.

• But, he doesn’t know you actually do it, he just thought it was something you enjoyed to watch.

• You tried your hardest to hide it from him, simply because you didn’t want to bother him with your interests whilst he was busy working and didn’t want to be a distraction.

• He suspected something the moment you started acting suspicious around him, you could never hide anything from him.

• He eventually found out about it one day when he was reading and then suddenly heard piano music being played from outside.

• His interest was piqued almost immediately, as he closed his book and slowly made his way throughout the house and out to the garden.

• He had his suspicions, and as he reached the door and opened it quietly, they were confirmed.

• There you were, dancing ever so beautifully and spinning heavenly. Why would you hide this from him?

• He wanted to find out, and he was going to.

Soon, the music came to an end, putting an end to your routine as you descend from your tiptoes and onto the ground flat. There were a few seconds of silence until the area was filled with sounds of slow clapping.

You could’ve swore you heard your heart stop.

“Myshka..why’d you stop?” He says with a little smirk. You turn around slowly as your met with your lovers strong gaze.

“Oh..uhm..because the song..ended..” You stammer, looking down at your feet as you could practically feel your inner self growing smaller and smaller with each moment of silence.

Fyodor walks towards you, hands clasped together. “What a performance, lapachka..You move so elegantly.” He compliments you, to which you blush and move your hands to your face.

“You weren’t supposed to know..” You muffle out, and he can’t help but chuckle at your cute actions. He gently takes your hands and pulls them from your face, giving you the same smile but this time, it looked comforting.

“And why not?” He asks.

“I just..” You pause, becoming careful with your words. “I didn’t want to bother you with it..”

His gaze becomes softer as he appears a bit confused, and also..saddened? It only lasts a second though as his smirk returns and he strokes your cheek.

“You could never bother me, dear..” He whispers as he kisses your lips. You close your eyes and kiss him back, going up on your tiptoes to get a better angle. He pulls away and continues stroking your cheek, before pulling away and walking past you and heading towards the music player himself.

You raise an eyebrow as you turn towards him. “..What are you doing?” You ask skeptically. He switches on a channel of classical music, looking up at you with the same look on his face as he extends a hand out towards you.

“Come.” He says, and you instantly follow.

He takes your hand and you both begin to way to the music, his feet moving just the same as yours as if he was an expert on what he was doing. You were surprised.

“How are you so experienced with this?” You giggle.

“I’ve adapted to the area of dancing in..every lifetime let’s just say..” He replies, spinning you around slowly once before going back to sway with you. You smile, making Fyodor chuckle just a little.

You both danced for most of the night, and being in eachothers arms made Fyodor think he was one of the luckiest men in the world.

Maybe living in this lifetime wasn’t so bad, as long as it meant being with you.

TAGLIST : @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @heartsfourdazai @nomnomventi @silverbladexyz @inojuuy @boarcide @cherrymoka222 @kissesmellow21 @aliyahgracedrawing @chuuyathehatrack2 @boredwithwrath @rainy-dazie @lone-ray @ishqani @fun-cats @wefureko-blog @hoicacti @seikkoh @famousfoxkingdom @morrie-rose @underscoredaniii @monmush @night-dazai @s1eepybunny @minomikn @pinkdaises @lalalanddddddddd @mayaaluvvvv @probablyzombiedinosaurs @rinismahname @starrs20 @just4notherhumanbeing @little-miss-chaoss @drowningfishy @saeandscaralover @minniepresents

✿ riiwrites 2024 ; please refrain from ever plagiarising or reposting any of my works without crediting.

[chuellas]

Comfort Chain | Getting caught in the rain with them

⤷ Ft. Atsushi Nakajima, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara

Warnings | Fem!reader, terms of endearment used (bella, belladonna, doll, etc.), teeth rotting fluff, mention of blood in Akutagawa’s, total WC: 4.2k

A/N: Aaaahhhh I had sm fun writing these. Funny enough I had the most trouble with Chuuya’s :(

Atsushi (853 WC):

The torrential downpour has been going on for well over an hour now. A level four tsunami had been called around the same time and of course you were out during the time of the warning. 

You’ve been studying at this cafe a few blocks down from your apartment every day for almost a month now, it would have been longer, but you only just discovered the small gem. 

You wish you could say you went there for the quiet atmosphere, but if you’ ‘re being honest, there is some sort of agency in the same building that spends a lot of time in the cafe and they’re… rowdy on most days. No, you definitely didn’t come for the tranquility, what kept you coming was the cute white haired boy with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. His eyes are always alight with glee when he’s around his colleagues, but you think you prefer to see the relaxed and almost somber look he wears when he comes down to the cafe on his own, a truly rare occasion, but something you’ve found yourself coming back just to catch another glimpse of it even though you’re pretty sure he has no knowledge of your existence.

So, you find yourself stuck in the cafe while the world around you becomes flooded, not wanting to take the chance of your expensive laptop getting drenched and completely ruined. You have far too many valuable resources and completed assignments there to let that happen. However, you’re stuck in a sort of predicament, you have to go home sooner or later to feed your cat. You can’t just stay at this cafe forever. 

You curse at yourself for not being prepared and at least bringing an umbrella. 

Maybe you can leave your laptop here with the shop owner and pick it back up from him when the sky isn’t dumping water onto the earth below it. You pack up your things, everything but your laptop and move to get out of the booth to talk to the old man behind the counter. You freeze when the front door to the cafe bursts open and makes you jump. 

Was that the wind?

You peer behind to find the cause of the comotion only to be faced with a soaked figure that you immediately recognize at the boy from the agency upstairs. He seems a little out of breath, as if he had just ran here from somewhere in the city and not from upstairs. The owner is the first to speak up as the white haired boy scans the room, like he’s looking for someone specifically.

”What the devil…Atsu-”

The boy doesn’t let him finish, his eyes landing on you and in an instant he’s striding over to you with purpose. “I’m so sorry, Uzumaki-sama, when I come back I’ll make sure to clean up all the water I tracked in but I needed to make sure she hadn’t left yet.”

You cluelessly look around to make sure it is indeed you that the boy is talking about, as if you aren’t the only one sitting in this cafe. You look back over to find him right in front of your table, arm outstretched with an umbrella in hand. Your lips part in shock at the gesture, this boy who you didn’t really know ran all this way from wherever he was in the city just to bring you an umbrella.

“Hi…Uh…I’m Atsushi Nakajima, we haven’t actually met yet but I’ve noticed you’re here almost every day around this time. It’s hard to miss you when you’re so pretty, y’know? A-and I’ve been wanting to introduce myself! But I always chicken out at the last minute but when it started to rain out I realized you were probably stuck here with no umbrella and…well…you seem really smart, I’m sure you can figure out the rest on your own…”

You blink, your mind trying to catch up with his rapid fire rambling. His words came out so fast they almost blended together. It seems Atsushi also hadn’t realized what he was saying because the same time it dawns on you that he called you pretty and your face flushes a bit, Atsushi’s face turns beet red.

You smile at him shyly and reach out for the umbrella he’s offering. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Atsushi.”

You introduce yourself and he seems to settle down and relax, just a dusting of pink spreads across his cheeks now. “Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet you too. Do you…Would you like me to escort you home? Just to make sure you make it alright! It’s pretty bad outside right now..”

You smile at him and let out an amused puff pair through your nose as you nod your head. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Atsushi smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in that way you’ve come to adore. He takes not only the umbrella from you but your bag too. You thank the shop owner on your way out and Atsushi promises, once again, to be back shortly to clean. 

Akutagawa (776 WC):

The mission ended in a bloodshed, they always seemed to when Akutagawa was involved. His sharp tongue and usually disagreeable personality always makes your efforts in negotiations worthless. You could never understand why Mori insists that the two of you work together. It’s like Akutagawa cancels you out and vice versa.

Nevertheless, you both got the job done. Whether it was done peacefully or forcefully, it was still successful. Unfortunately for you, unlike Akutagawa, you weren’t gifted with a long range combative ability. Yours involves touching your targets, so things always get a little…messy for you. 

The two of you are wrapping things up when the heavy rainfall starts. The sound of the consistent and heavy pitter-patter from the rain hitting against the roof of the - now abandoned - warehouse is soothing. The tension in your body from your previous fight melts away with the melody each droplet creates. The sound almost puts you in a trance and suddenly you’re struck with the strongest urge to wash off the blood that soaks most of your clothing, the smell finally hitting you and making you want to crawl out of your skin.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re moving towards the entrance of the warehouse and Akutagawa is calling after you. “Where the hell are you going? Were you not listening to me? The car will be here in 20 minutes.”

You weren’t listening, hadn’t even realized he’d been talking over all the noise. 

“I’m gonna clean up! Can’t go staining some poor unassuming mailman’s car, now can I? That would be rude, my dear Ryunosuke.” You look over your shoulder at him with a smile and eyes filled with mirth.

His own eyes narrow at you and he clicks his tongue in annoyance, which is nothing new for him, especially when your favorite pastime is pushing his buttons. You watch with sheer amusement when his brow pinches together and an expression of realization flashes across his face. You ready yourself for useless scolding on his part. 

When will he learn? You never listen to him. 

“So soaking the car in water is a better alternative? You’re going to catch a cold if you stand in the rain at this temperature, you imbecile.” Despite his words he follows you out of the building, covering himself with Rashomon so he doesn’t get soaked too.

You don’t respond to him right away, instead you take in a deep inhale and close your eyes to tilt your head up. You let out a long sigh of relief as you feel the heavy and hot blood wash away. It’s not the same as standing under a showerhead like you usually do, undressing in the shower so you can easily wash out the blood from everything all at once. 

No, the rain washing it all away somehow feels purifying. A funny thought considering you’re the farthest thing from the word — perfectly impure. There’s nothing wrong with it, you much prefer it that way. 

Trying to be perfect is overrated anyways.

You don’t know how long you stand there for, head tilted to the heavens in complete serenity. But you’re brought out of your daze when you suddenly stop feeling the rain rolling onto your skin. Your brow pinches together in confusion and you straighten your head to open your eyes only to find an extension of Rashomon now covering you too. You look at Akutagawa with a frown and he clicks his tongue again.

“You’re washed off, there’s no use in you standing in the rain any longer. Unless you planned on getting ill so you could leave me to do all your work for you.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks to the side, ignoring the way your face lights up in amusement.

You coo at him. “Awe, Ryukun…Are you worried about me? You do care! This needs to be shared. I must tell Gin all about this-”

As you go to pull out your phone, Akutagawa uses his ability to snatch the device and easily crushes it. All you can do is look at him and let out a pathetic whine of complaint. Your lips are parted in utter disbelief as you gape at him.

You let out another noise in complaint and sigh. “What in the hell, Akutagawa? That was like the third phone this month, are you joking? You’re getting me a new one the second we get back.”

He still refuses to look at you but promptly lets out a scoff at your declaration and you can practically hear him roll his eyes. 

“Whatever…”

Your eye twitches at his response but, luckily for him, your ride arrives and narrowly saves his ass from your impending wrath.

Dazai (1268 WC):

You come to the conclusion that the universe is entirely against you on this shitty Monday morning. Nothing has gone right since you woke up. Your alarm never went off because your charger wasn’t plugged in properly, so you woke up late. Then when you finally got your phone on you’re met with 10 missed calls and 3 texts from Kunikida, a text from Ranpo, and 4 texts from Dazai.

You promptly ignore the texts from the other two and call Kunikida back. The blonde informs you of Ranpo’s deduction behind your tardiness and you confirm. Luckily, the agency’s second in command is far more understanding with you than he is when a certain brunette is running late or calls in. 

That’s the only good thing you had going for you this morning.

After you get off the phone you try to take a quick hot shower but the plumbing has other plans for you. For some reason the water in the dorms’ building would not get past mildly warm. You were stuck taking a less than relaxing/calming shower. It was at that point you thought you had given up all hope for a decent day.

You’d be proven wrong and shown by the universe that you were sorely mistaken. 

You quickly get dressed and finally decide to check your messages as you stuff your feet in your shoes, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth as you have one arm shoved through your coat sleeve. You imagine that you look like a complete fool but thankfully you couldn’t care less. You balance everything as you unlock your phone, ignoring Dazai’s messages and opening Ranpo’s first. 

From Master Detective🕵🏻: Heyyyy u should wake up. Ur already l8. I let Kunikida know ur alarm didn’t go off this morning. Seemed to settle him down. YW. Call him when u wake up!

You type out a quick thanks to Ranpo and stare at your phone wearily as you work yourself up to open and read Dazai’s most likely over the top messages. On most days you’d find yourself smiling like a clown at the fact you had a message from him but today you do not have the patience. 

A pang of guilt shoots through you at your previous thoughts and promptly look for his contact, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you see the heart next to his name that you don’t remember putting there.

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:17): bellaaaa why aren’t you here yet? :( 

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:23): kunikida-kun is now blaming me for your absence ꒰(˶◞ ‸ ◟˶)꒱ 

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:29): my bella hates me! you want me dead!! youre not here :( youre not letting me know where you are :( youre not even opening my messages :((

You have to stop reading for your sanity. The way he refers to you as his bella makes your stomach twist in knots and your heart flutter in your chest. It’s nauseating and far too early for this. 

You should have kept reading Dazai’s messages. If you had, you would have known that he warned you about the incoming storm set to hit at any moment. If you had, you would’ve brought the umbrella you always forget at home. But because the damn bastard made you so flustered with his previous message you didn’t. This is somehow his fault, you decide. He did it on purpose.

The universe truly hates you today.

About a fourth of the way there is when it starts. You aren’t even given a light warning of sprinkling, the downpour starts and it just continues to get heavier the further you get. You consider just walking back to your apartment and calling it a day before it had even really started but then you know Kunikida would have a fit. So you resort to running.

You’re not a runner, you never have been. You’re uncoordinated and have bad knees. An awful combination in running. 

At about the halfway point you notice a figure in the distance walking towards you. You can’t quite make the person out but you do have the rational thought of ‘who the hell is crazy enough to be out here in the pouring rain right now?’ As if you aren’t currently in the same position -- maybe even in a worse position because at least this person had enough sense to bring an umbrella.

As you grow closer to crossing paths with the person you notice he’s wearing a familiar light tan trench coat and you almost collapse from relief. You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to see that stupid trench coat. You pick up your speed and within 30 seconds you’re crashing into your savior and he loops an arm around you as he steadies the both of you.

“Shame on you, Belladonna. You didn’t read all of my messages. Leaving me on read like that and making me worry.” Dazai looks down at you with a smirk and you already regret running to him. “But! I couldn’t just wait around. Oh no! I had to save my damsel in distress!”

You let out a snort as you roll your eyes. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

You certainly don’t like the smug smile that curls at his lips. “I’ve noticed that you always forget your umbrella. So, when you didn’t respond to my messages, I just knew you would forget your umbrella again and guess what? I was right.”

You look up at him, completely unamused. You were grateful and you would have expressed said gratitude if it weren’t for that stupid smug grin that you would love to smack right off of his face. So instead you kiss your teeth and look away.

“So, what? You want a reward or something?”

That was clearly a mistake, because he lights up at your words and seems to seriously ponder what he could ask of you. Hopefully whatever it is, it’s realistic. Although knowing him, it won’t be.

“A kiss?” His voice has gone soft and his expression is hopeful.

Your stomach and chest both do that thing they did earlier and how the hell are you supposed to say no to that when he’s looking at you with those wide brown puppy eyes. You chew on the inside of your cheek nervously. In your mind, the decision had already been made far before he even asked you for the kiss. You bring a cold hand up to his surprisingly warm cheek and watch as his eyelids and long lashes flutter at your slight touch. You guide his face down to yours as you lean up to meet him halfway for the second time today. 

You watch as his eyes slide shut in anticipation, you pause for a few seconds, lips just a breath apart as you soak in this moment and try your best to commit it to memory. Finally you let your own eyes slide shut and gently press your lips to his. It’s gentle, his movements are soft, as if he’s scared to hurt you by accident. His lips are slightly chapped from the way he gnaws on them but it’s surprisingly nice. You both get so lost in each other that he loses his grip on the umbrella.

You make a noise of surprise and your eyes fly open when droplets start to hit your already soaked hair, you separate from Dazai and he lets out a noise of complaint, keeping you encased in his arms. “Dazai- The- The umbrella, Dazai!”

Chuuya (1.3k WC):

“Forecast didn’t say anything about rain today…”

You blink a few times, trying to comprehend the scene before you. You just got out of the most horrendous shift of your life. It has been a bad day for you all around and to top it off you didn’t even have a chance to check in with the one person that would make you feel better all day. But none of that even matters because here he is, standing before you under the overhang for drop off and pick up in front of the clinic you work at. 

You blink again before finally processing his presence. “...Chuuya? What are you doing here?” 

You aren’t ungrateful. You aren’t. In fact, you’re elated to see him here after the day you have, his presence alone brings you comfort. It’s just this one little detail that nags you in the back of your mind. You don’t think you’ve ever told Chuuya the exact clinic you work at, so how did he know he could find you here? 

As if sensing your hesitation, the ginger explains himself by holding up his phone and shaking it gently. “You have your location on…I wanted to walk you home since it seemed like you were having a rough day.”

You look away sheepishly, forgetting you set your location services on after losing your last phone. You look to the side where the downpour of rain ricochets off the large puddle and bounces back onto the ground, never truly settling. Chuuya was right, nothing was said about the possibility of rain, but here the two of you were ready to walk back when clearly mother nature had something to say about that. 

The joke’s on mother nature, though, because you’ve always loved the rain. You grab Chuuya’s hand and tug him towards the direction of your apartment which, luckily, isn’t too far of a walk from your workplace. It takes you 15 minutes maximum to get home on foot. 

“Any chance you brought an umbrella with you?” You stop right at the edge, reaching into the rain and watch as it instantly soaks your hand.

You look over to the ginger in confusion when he doesn’t respond right away. The look on his face is conflicted and you have to wonder what’s going on through his mind to have him make that face. Your patient and wait for him to come back to you. You’re always patient with him, you learned early on that he needs it and you think he’s worth it. 

Chuuya focuses back in, his gaze now clear and on you — the look on his face tells you that he’s made a decision. “I didn’t bring an umbrella, but…there’s something else…”

“What is it?” You tilt your head at him curiously and Chuuya’s grip on your hand tightens for a moment. 

“I’d have to show you. Do you trust me?” A hesitant look flashes across his face and you wordlessly reassure him with a single nod. “Okay. Okay. It might feel odd at first, some people have even told me it’s made them a little nauseous the first few times.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, clearly not following what he means. “I don’t- I’m not following…What are you talking about?”

Your face is painted with a perplexed expression and Chuuya realizes he’s not making any sense. His nerves don’t usually take over like this, but when it comes to you they always seem to get the better of him. You watch as he almost deflates, looking at you like a lost little puppy. The ginger lets out a sigh and his grip on your hand tightens once again. 

“You trust me?” He asks again, this time with more conviction.

You nod your head at him. “Of course I do.”

Chuuya smiles at you and then a strange aura washes over the both of you. A subtle red glow blankets itself over you, it’s warmth relaxing your muscles. There’s a certain weight in the air that there wasn’t before. Chuuya examines you carefully, searching for signs of any discomfort. However, there aren’t any for him to find because you’re completely at peace with this feeling. It’s the first time Chuuya has ever witnessed anyone so at ease while his ability is activated. It takes you less than a minute to realize what’s going on — your lips part in shock at the realization. 

“You’re…You have an ability too?” You’ve only ever met one other ability user, that you’re aware of at least and that was years ago.

Chuuya’s brows furrow at your words and then they shoot when he puts it together. “Too? So, you have a gift? This will be easier for me to explain then. My ability is gravity manipulation. At this very moment I’m using my manipulation to keep the rain from touching us.”

As if to demonstrate, the ginger pulls you out from under the awning and into the rain. You gasp and tense in anticipation of the rain completely soaking you to the bone. When it doesn’t you look to Chuuya and watch as the raindrops bounce right off him only millimeters above his skin. Then you look at your own limbs and it’s the very same effect — raindrops bouncing right off as if you’re repelling them and you suppose you technically are. You stare in wonder at the red glow still emanating from your bodies and you smile softly.

You both start walking hand in hand in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Chuuya clears his throat. “So…You have an ability too? Can I ask what it is?”

His voice comes out almost robotic and you look over to him in concern. His whole body is stiff and he’s looking everywhere but at you. You purse your lips at him, confused by his abnormal behavior. 

An idea comes to mind and you smile at him mischievously. He doesn’t notice of course so you easily turn around and grab hold of his other hand. You tug Chuuya towards you and guide him into a dance. You spin around and take a few steps, guiding him into a coordinated dance.

You clearly take him by surprise, so much so that he releases his ability and suddenly you’re both being drenched by the downpour mid dance. You let out a surprised squeal and pause, then look up to the sky with your eyes closed and smile wide as you laugh in pure glee. You straighten your head forward and open your eyes to look back at Chuuya with a wide smile still plastered on your face. The ginger looks completely starstruck, his eyes gazing at you with an adoring glint in them. It makes you blush, his brazen attitude and intensity never fails to create butterflies in your stomach. 

“Hey, you wanna be my girl?” Chuuya pulls you in, rain still soaking the two of you but neither one of you could care less. 

His words register slowly but when they do, you’re speaking before your brain can register that your mouth is moving. “Do you mean-? Yes. Absolutely, I would like nothing more than to be yours.”

Chuuya is pulling you in and crashes his wet lips to yours. The kiss is deep, his lips melding with yours perfectly, just like they always do. His touch is gentler than usual but you can feel him restraining himself. When you pull away you’re both slightly breathless. His forehead rests on yours and your breath mixes together. You start to flush when you realize that the two of you just kissed so intimately out in the open. 

Chuuya senses your embarrassment and chuckles, a smirk settling on his handsome features. “Why don’t we hurry to your apartment, then we can take a nice hot bath together. How’s that sound?”

You smile softly and nod, it’s like he could read your mind. “Sounds like heaven.”

[nakahras]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི slow down • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • every week you find yourself in one of chuuya’s club, one reminiscent of a speakeasy. as his subordinate, you know of each and every one of his establishments. what you never expected was for him to show up to one of your performances. lucky for you he shows up to reward you handsomely for a successful show.

warnings • (buckle up this is gonna be a long one) fem!reader, swearing, alcohol, dubcon, intoxication (both parties), use of the pet names “doll” and “baby”, ņsfw, hair pulling, chuuya is a tease, power imbalance, grinding, very slight exhibitionism, fingering, finger sucking, oral (f -> m), unprotected sex, dacryphilia, wall sex, creampie, cockwarming, i cannot be blamed for what i wrote that wasn’t me

wc • 9.4k

a/n • this has been sitting in my drafts for so long waiting for me to find the will to finish the smut (⌒_⌒;)

the atmosphere is warm and inviting. a mixture of expensive perfumes, liquors and smoke builds an aroma that, although slightly suffocating, is also surprisingly delightful. it’s busy, just like every friday night, thanks to the main act. at least, that’s what chuuya’s been told. 

earlier in the week, his subordinates noticed that numbers for this club in particular, have gone up significantly. it’s now chuuya’s most popular establishment. friday nights, especially, are giving him high revenue. he isn’t complaining by any means, he just wants to know why so maybe he can bring that aspect of this business into his others — or at the very least thank whoever it is that’s responsible for these numbers. 

he’s come to realize that his sales have spiked strictly within the 9-10pm time frame—the peak of the friday night show. he allows performers, mainly singers, to take the stage at night. it’s somewhat of an experiment on chuuya’s end. speakeasies are far and few between; he wants to know if that’s due to the lack of interest or just the lack of organization. he’s happy to see that there’s still interest. 

chuuya wants to see it for himself. that’s what led him here, at his own club in the vip section. he’s sat forward, leaning on the table, his hands folded in front of his face as he anticipates the curtains parting to reveal the subordinate rumored to have captivated this entire club and its patrons. the ginger wasn’t given much to go by, but he knows it’s someone that works under him, it’s supposedly how they managed to get the most coveted slot. 

it’s clear, however, that their talent is what allowed them to keep the slot.

you’re nervous. it’s the first time since your very first performance on this stage that your palms are sweating underneath the leather short gloves you wear. you were told earlier this evening that you had a special guest tonight. when the stage manager told you “no pressure” your fingers twitched, itching to reach for the knife you kept holstered and hold it up to his throat. those two words always had the opposite effect and something told you the bastard knew that.

you take in a shuddered breath as you look at the backstage clock. it’s nearly time. those curtains are about to open and reveal you to whoever it is that’s so important on the other side of the heavy red velvet cloth. you shake your arms and take a few calming breaths as the lights dim further than they already are.

it’s showtime.

you make the decision to not look. you train your eyes to the ground as the curtain rises from the floor, slowly revealing you in your fitted black floor length dress. the thigh slit that reaches your hip leaves you feeling far more vulnerable and exposed than you’d like to admit. as you look everywhere but at the vip section you realize you may be revealing far too much skin with an important guest in the audience. the top half of this dress wasn’t any better either. the short sleeves felt as though they were simply a decoration — hanging off your shoulders exposing not only just your shoulders, but your collar bones and cleavage as well. 

you’re hyper aware of your appearance and now so is chuuya. his breath hitches when the curtain reveals you. you looked devastatingly beautiful, the kind that could ruin his life and he would thank you for it. how did he not know it was you? you’d always piqued chuuya’s interest. he paid closer attention to you than his other subordinates and he had noticed you were always busy on friday nights, but he never would have imagined in a million years that this would be the reason. chuuya didn’t even know you could sing but here you were, singing like a siren and ensnaring the executive in your trap. he was absolutely mesmerized, hanging on to every word you sang.

the executive desperately wants you to look at him but he quickly notices you’re adamantly avoiding the vip section — his section. do you know he’s here? does he make you nervous? the thought of making you nervous stirs something inside of him. something he thought he had suppressed a long time ago because it’s entirely inappropriate of him. chuuya desires you, deeply, desperately, dangerously. watching you on that stage, in that dress has him clenching his jaw. his self control is waning quickly. 

you get through the first song with a surprising amount of ease. your rigid muscles relax as you melt into the melody. your nerve endings igniting with the reverberations of the instruments behind you. you feel electric, everything buzzing as you make it to the last song.

luckily, for you, it’s only supposed to be a short set tonight, 3 songs total. so, when you reach the end of the final song you finally allow yourself a glance. your eyes widen and lips part in utter shock to find the very bicolored eyes that have been haunting your thoughts since you first laid your sights on them. as the curtain drops you reel at the fact that the important guest was none other than the club owner himself, your superior in the port mafia, and executive. chuuya nakahara. your vision tunnels and ears ring as you pretend to listen to whatever praises are being handed over by the crew. you manage to accept them with grace easily then dismiss yourself to your dressing room.

you don’t think much time has passed since the curtain dropped, but you’re proven wrong when you walk through the threshold of the dressing room and the door is promptly shut, revealing your superior. your posture turns rigid and chuuya watches you intently as you swallow thickly. you think the look in his eye is something akin to a predator gazing upon its prey. chuuya doesn’t miss your change in demeanor and the way your throat bobs anxiously. it’s all he needs to know that his earlier suspicions were right. he does make you nervous. 

you bow your head instinctively and offer him a respectful greeting, just like you’d normally do while at work. “i was told someone important was coming to watch my show tonight but i wasn’t aware it’d be you, thank you for coming, nakahara-sama.”

“chuuya. no need to be so formal here…” although chuuya would be lying if said you referring to him in such a way didn’t do something to him.

here you are, the most gorgeous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his gaze upon and you’re being the respectful one. as much as chuuya wants to boast about you clearly admiring him as a superior, that’s not what he’s here for. now that he knows you’re the one that has brought his club popularity, he needed to reward you properly.

”you watch him carefully, making sure he means what he said — it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s being sincere. “right. then… thank you for coming, chuuya.”

oh. his name has never sounded so sweet. but when it falls from your lips like honey, he can’t help but to crave more. 

your voice is saccharine, a true gift from the angels. in fact, your superior isn’t quite convince you aren’t an angel after hearing that set. you truly must be otherworldly. it’s the only explanation.

“have to say, didn’t even know you could sing, let alone sing like that.” you watch as the ginger crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the door. chuuya adjusts his hat and peers down at you through his surprisingly long lashes. 

you’ve never been a skittish person, but chuuya nakahara makes you nervous as hell. “i wasn’t keeping it a secret. you just never asked.” 

“‘spose i should apologize for that then, huh? i just assumed i always made it obvious that i paid special attention to you. but i guess in this situation, that still wasn’t enough. how do you suggest i make up for not asking, doll?” his bicolored eyes scan your face, an easy smile stretching his lips. 

you blink once, twice, three times trying to comprehend what he’s asking you. his smooth honey-like voice entrancing you and making your mind dizzy at the utterance of the term of endearment. your mind is simultaneously moving too fast and too slow. you’re buffering in real-time. you try to snap yourself out of your stupor but it’s hard when the most gorgeous man is standing in front of you, gaze lidded and hungry and directed towards you.

you swallow thickly again and manage to rasp out, “buy me a drink?”

the ginger cracks a smile and before he can even say anything, there’s a rap at the door. chuuya pushes himself off the wooden panel and swivels around. he only cracks open the door enough for him to peek his head out and speak with someone in a hushed tone. you can’t see anything and you think twice about trying to peer over the executive’s shoulder. chuuya toes the door shut and turns around presenting you with a wide grin.  

“why don’t we move this conversation back to my section in the club? i have a surprise waiting for you there.” chuuya steps closer to and casually reaches out and holds the middle of your bare back to guide you.

you don’t have time to form a single coherent thought to even think about declining. you’re being gently pushed towards the dressing room door that chuuya manages to hold open. his hand doesn’t leave your back for a second as you both walk to his semi secluded section. your head is dizzy again. the feeling of the smooth leather from his gloved hand sends a shiver through your spine that you swear he notices, if the smile he’s wearing has anything to show for it.

when you get close enough, you notice two empty glass flutes and the most expensive bottle of champagne this club carries sit atop the table of chuuya’s booth. it’s probably the most expensive bottle of alcohol you’ve ever laid your eyes on. there was no way that was the bottle you thought it was. when you finally get closer you quickly read the label. sure enough you were right, a bottle of dom perignon plenitude 2, brut champagne 2003. your eyes nearly bug out of your head and your mouth moves before you can even second guess your words.

“this is not what i meant, chuuya, this… i can’t accept this.” you stare at the bottle of champagne carefully, it costs far more than what you make in a night singing here.

chuuya’s smile is warm and reassuring as he sort of chuckles through his nose. “don’t worry, doll, you deserve this. it’s no sweat, just enjoy it, okay?” his hand slides up to between your shoulder blades and down again just above the swell of your ass then he repeats that action a few times, clearly trying to sooth your anxious mind.

you involuntarily relax and eventually concede. “fine, i suppose if you’re offering… who am i to refuse at least a glass?”

the grin that you receive from the executive is nothing short of triumphant. the way his nose scrunches a tad bit and the way the dimple on his left cheek becomes more prominent makes him look much younger and full of energy than his usual demeanor does. his smile is contagious, you can’t help but to offer him one of the same value. it takes his breath away.

you take chuuya’s breath away.

the ginger sits in his thoughts and admiration just a little too long. you notice his sudden daze and tilt your head in confusion. “you still here with me? why don’t you do the honors. it’s embarrassing to admit, but i’ve never been very good at opening champagne bottles.”

chuuya lets out a chuckle and reaches for the bottle. you watch in wonderment as he pops it open with ease. you figured chuuya would want the first pour but after filling the first glass he hands it straight over to you. you’re not sure if it’s true but you’ve heard something about the first pour after opening a bottle of wine was the best. you wonder if the same applies to champagne. 

at some point during your walk over to the booth, chuuya had taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. he must’ve gotten hot, you vaguely rationalize. you try, and fail miserably, to not ogle at the extra bit of skin and muscle the executive is displaying. maybe he had the right idea. it was getting hot in here.

 if chuuya notices he doesn’t say anything. 

he does notice, it’s hard for him not to. his lips curl slightly at the way your eyes not so subtly trail along his arms. you probably would have caught it if you weren’t so preoccupied. he thinks about making a remark but doesn’t want to embarrass you. so, instead, chuuya clears his throat and holds out his drink to make a short toast. 

you tilt your head with a look of curiosity, waiting for him to make his toast.

chuuya gets the memo and clears his throat almost as if he was nervous. “to your successful set tonight and to making this my most successful club.”

“this is your most successful club?!” you can’t help the obviously baffled guffaw that leaves your throat.

you knew this was a popular club. the public loves the idea of a speakeasy. an obvious difference in vibes from a modern day club — it was a welcomed change. after all, that’s what drew you to it in the first place too. 

to think that this club was so bustling because of you, however, was an entirely different thing. there is no way that this establishment is so lucrative based solely on your performances alone. you can’t possibly take full credit for it. somebody had to have come up with the idea of open mic nights. whoever that was, should be toasted to. not you.

chuuya chortles, clearly finding the shock in both your face and expression amusing. “yes, doll. friday nights specifically. they’re my best nights.”

oh.

yeah, you couldn’t exactly delude yourself into thinking the club's success isn’t because of you anymore. these were clearly your nights. the idea is far too much for you to wrap your head around. you never would have imagined that people enjoy your voice in general. so, to know they not only enjoy it, but they seek it out every week makes your head spin.

you need more champagne.

you finish off the last few sips you have left in your flute then reach for the very expensive bottle sitting next to chuuya. you’re not fast enough, though. chuuya’s nimble fingers wrap around the neck of the dom perignon to pick up the champagne. you think he’s trying to play keep away with you but you’re proven wrong when he tops you off — still with an amused lopsided grin gracing his features. 

you take generous and consecutive sips from your newly poured glass, downing almost all of it in one go. your eyes water and throat stings from the influx of bubbles filtering through your esophagus. the expression on your face scrunches up into a grimace, the sting from the champagne surprising you. you panic as you feel an air bubble traveling back up. you try your best to suppress the burp threatening to release from your throat. you're successful but in place of a burp you let out a squealed hiccup. it’s soft enough to where you think you may have gotten away with it but the look on chuuya’s face says otherwise.

the executive is clearly amused, displaying another wide smile. “thought you said you were only going to have one glass? you’re gonna end up too tipsy before i can even ask you to dance with me.”

you look at him in a daze. your face heats up and you come to the conclusion that it’s equal parts embarrassment and the alcohols affect. your whole body ignites, buzzing as the alcohol runs its course and makes your inhibitions loosen. 

this is dangerous. 

who knew all it took was two glasses of expensive champagne to have your head spinning and mind wandering to places about chuuya it shouldn’t. he is your boss, your higher up, your superior. it’s embarrassing, really, thinking the ginger would, in any way, reciprocate your interest. it had to be a ridiculous notion, right?

wait.

rewind.

he said dance with you. he wanted to dance with you? god, you now desperately wish you hadn’t drunk so much already. the thought alone of dancing with chuuya made your legs wobbly, add the alcohol in the mix and your leg muscles were turning to jelly. 

“dance? you want to dance… with me?” your mind clearly wasn’t wrapping around the concept.

chuuya gives you a curious look. “what? don’t think i can dance?”

you weren’t expecting his playful tone and that devilish smile that’s gracing his lips. as a matter of fact, this chuuya — the one here tonight — is a far cry from his usual self. although you suppose you’ve never seen the executive in a setting where he can be more relaxed. the port mafia doesn’t exactly allow chuuya much room to be a laxed 20-something year old. he’s the strongest ability user, after all. he’s also the port mafia’s most talented fighter, with and without his ability. he’s a forced to be reckoned with and it radiates off of him when he’s wearing his executive mask. a scowl is almost permanently etched onto his face. you actually used to think it was his resting face.

the aura he radiates is one of intimidation. stained red from the blood of his victims and scorching like a raging fire. you hate to admit it but you used to avoid chuuya. he terrified you. but the more you were around him and the more you saw of him that changed.

of course, every interaction you’ve had with him thus far has been strictly professional, naturally. yet, you won’t lie, there was more than one occasion where you’ve let your mind wander to what he’s like outside of his duties. you got glimpses of it in the way he interacts with those he’s truly close with. you think that chuuya it beautiful. a stark difference from the horrifying monster the lower ranks paint him out to be. 

but even when he’s with the people he trusts the most, he’s still at work. this is different. so, you decide this chuuya, here tonight, is refreshing. 

you’re not sure if the decision is solely based on your current inebriated state or not, but right now you could care less. you finally let yourself relax, nerves rolling off your body and evaporating. it’s a visible change that chuuya makes sure to take note of as you return his current energy.

“chuuya-san, that’s quite the assumption, don’t you think? what makes you think that i spend any time thinking about whether you can dance or not?” 

your lashes flutter almost flirtatiously (you blame it on the alcohol) as you tease him. you know well that he hates being referred to in such a formal manner — even by his subordinates. chuuya’s quick, though, and immediately catches on to your teasing. his bicolored eyes almost twinkle with amusement and he offers you a hand. the action is so smooth you don’t even question it, in fact, you don’t even react at first.

“first you question my dancing skills and now you refuse to dance with me? damn, doll, you’re breakin’ my heart.” chuuya snorts at the way your face twists in horror as you realize what’s going on.

“i- no! i’m not- that’s not- !” you stumble over yourself, words spilling from you faster than what your mind can keep up with. you take a breath and grab the ginger’s hand, quite aggressively, and pull him onto the dance floor. 

you’re not quite sure where this sudden burst of confidence comes from, maybe yet another thing to blame on the alcohol, but you roll with it. despite the look and feel of the club, it was still past midnight on the weekend. the speakeasy atmosphere has been replaced with a dj and modern music filtering through every conceivable speaker in this establishment. 

everything is vibrating, it makes it hard to discern whether your fingers are steady or not. god, you hope your fingers are steady as you guide chuuya’s hands to your hips — you also hope you’re not being too forward. the thought is distant and nagging, much like if someone was lightly hammering a dull nail to the back of your head. you let yourself slip into the anxiety spreading in your chest and for a split second, you think your fears are founded, because the gravity manipulator’s fingers ghost your hips, distinctly not finding purchase on your hips. 

the thought of him being nervous too isn’t plausible in your mind, so you don’t even entertain it.

just as you’re about to draw back and pull away, mortified by your own boldness, your breath catches. in fact it almost halts altogether because chuuya’s pulling you closer to him. with your back flush to his chest, you can feel the heat of his body emanating from him. distantly, you wonder if he just naturally runs hot or if it’s just the club, the people all around you, the buzz of the alcohol.

the heat is oddly calming, a reminder of his presence safeguarding your largest vulnerability. maybe that’s the reason he chose this position in the first place, the act of dancing was already exposing enough, you didn’t need to worry about your back being watched when chuuya is sheltering you so well. 

chuuya’s wandering hand splaying across your lower stomach and pushing down says otherwise, though. a pleasant chill courses through you, despite the humid air.

you need to steady yourself, his presence is entirely overwhelming, consuming you almost completely. 

all you can do, all you want to do, is breathe him in.

you need to ground yourself before you do something stupid. you reach up behind yourself and clasp your hand around the back of chuuya’s neck, fingers scraping against his skin lightly as you card your fingers through his hair. the tips of his own fingers on your lower abdomen bite into the fabric of your dress. his other hand grips your hip and guides you, moving you against him — with him.

it’s easy, moving your body in tandem with his. matching his movements was easy and you have to admit to yourself that he’s a really good dancer. chuuya has total control over his body and knows exactly how to move it. you don’t know why you’re so surprised, his extensive training in the martial arts and flexibility have to make for an excellent dancer and it shows. 

you’re so caught up in the feeling of him, the heat of him, against you that your source of intoxication shifts from the alcohol to him. you’re so drunk off the smell of him, off the closeness of him, off the way you can feel every hard muscle of his chest and abdomen against your back. your senses are so clogged up with him that nothing else is getting through.

it doesn’t help that your body is moving on it’s own.

or is it?

no. it’s chuuya, he’s guiding your body. your ass is firmly pressed against him, grinding into him and you hadn’t even noticed in your stupor. 

this is so inappropriate. he’s your higher up for god’s sake. this is wrong, right? but then again…the executive is the one that’s leading your actions, he’s clearly enjoying himself as much as you are. no harm in indulging yourself in him if he’s helping himself to you, right?

in the same moment, chuuya is dipping his head down, lips grazing and breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “you still doubtin’ me?”

you take in another shuddered breath. this man is killing you. he’s doing this on purpose, he has to be. you try to put the blame solely on his shoulders — you want this to be all him so badly. but you know that’s simply delusional because you’ve been drinking and you know very well how alcohol makes you act up.

chuuya teases you further by dropping his head down to your shoulder and nestling his face in your neck. you can feel his warm breath fanning over your skin. electrifying every nerve ending in your body, making your whole being feel like it’s buzzing. you don’t miss the way his lips stretch into a satisfied smirk. it’s then that you realize — he’s doing all this on purpose. the executive is toying with you, creating a game out of making you squirm and seeing how long your self control can last.

how cruel. he knows how stubborn you can be, showing that side of yourself in almost every mission you two have worked together. but he’s never had experience with you intoxicated (luckily for you). so, chuuya also has no idea just how far you throw your inhibitions out the window when alcohol is involved.

the ginger is taken by surprise when a small noise akin to a whimper is released at the back of your throat. if he wasn’t so close to you, he would have missed the noise completely, but he caught it loud and clear, much to your embarrassment. chuuya is stunned further when your backside presses into his front and grinds down harder than your previous slight brushing. you’re absolutely shameless about it, fingers digging into the base of chuuya’s scalp. 

you move your head and match his lidded gaze. “pleasantly surprised…”

in that moment you both move without thinking. it’s like something possessed you both, swam into your brain and took control. it happens so quickly too. one moment you’re simply staring in to eyes and the next, your lips are crashing into the ginger’s, meeting him halfway. it’s surprisingly smooth, an easy kiss considering your slightly intoxicated state. his lips are so plush and soft. you don’t know what you expected. you’ve caught yourself on multiple occasions watching him apply chapstick regularly and each time you were caught in a trance at the action.

chuuya knows exactly what he’s doing, almost as if he’s thought about this before — kissing you. his movements are deliberate and surprisingly soft for how eager he seems. your lips move in sync, slotted together and fitting in a way that makes you think that maybe you were made for one another. it’s a ludicrous thought, you know, but that doesn’t stop you from relishing in it all the same. this must be what dying and then going to heaven feels like, light and elated. 

you’re both moving your bodies to the music around you. it’s quite impressive how chuuya is able to still lead you into moving in time with the beat reverberating through your bones. you turn your body so your chest is flush with his and you bring your other hand up to cup the executive’s face. he takes that opportunity to hold you closer and deepens the kiss. the ginger nips at your bottom lip then shamelessly swipes his tongues along it, eyes open to gauge your reaction. another whimper escapes you and you feel his lips curve once more into a satisfied smirk. 

instead of deepening the kiss further, like where you thought chuuya was leading this, the man in question pulls away. you chase his lips but he’s too quick and you can’t manage to recapture them. how frustrating, it was just getting good too. your face scrunches in confusion.

“chuuya, no-” you lean in and leave an open mouth kiss on his neck and then suck some of his skin into your mouth and graze your teeth across his porcelain skin. chuuya lets out a shuddered breath but keeps his composure, for the most part. “more…”

your whine elicits a breathy laugh from the executive and he brings his hand up to gently stroke your cheek. he watches as your pretty eyes flutter shut at the slightest of touches. his imagination starts to run wild as he thinks of the types of reactions he can pull out of you when he does more to you. the thought alone almost drives him insane. you two need to get the hell out of this club and away from prying eyes.

“we have eyes on us, doll. why don’t we get out of here?” chuuya hums at you questioningly.

your eyes clear from their haze when the ginger’s words register. “...and go where?”

“my apartment. it’s not too far from here. plus- i brought a driver with me tonight. what do you say?”

the executive, your higher up, detaches himself from you and holds his hand out for you to take. your decision was made the moment you set eyes on him while on stage. you easily take his hand and allow him to lead you out to the car he had waiting for the two of you. 

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

the car is nice, again it was something that costs far more than what your level at the port mafia could afford, but you’re still surprised. chuuya enjoys driving, so you never imagined him using a chauffeur. although you suppose he’s responsible and since he’s been drinking at a club…this is clearly the chuuya thing to do. 

the chauffeur does his duty and goes to open the door for you. the younger man, someone you don’t recognize so he must be lower in ranks than you, is stopped by chuuya. the boy, you’ve decided he’s much younger than you — somewhere between 18 and 19 years old — startles at the executive’s hand landing on his shoulder.

“you can return to the car, kid. i’ve got the doors.” chuuya’s tone is light, but still, his words come out as a command.

the chauffeur looks absolutely horrified, obviously thinking he did something wrong and scurries back to the driver’s side. the ginger, on the other hand, clearly pays it no mind as he opens your door for you and offers his hand for help. you let out a light giggle and chuuya can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face.

“what i do now?” 

you shake your head at him in amusement. “that kid looks terrified. are you sure he’s even old enough to drive?”

“he is. taught him how to drive myself. trust me, he’s more than capable of driving us to my apartment.” he tilts his head to indicate that you should get moving into the car. 

instinctively, you do as he says and make your way into the car. your head is still spinning from the champagne you had earlier and suddenly everything is moving quickly. chuuya gets into the car and tells his driver to get moving before lifting the partition, separating the two of you from the boy up front. 

not even a moment later you find one hand gripping the armrest of the car door and the other gripping chuuya’s arm as he has his own ungloved hand shoved in between your thighs. his middle finger is toying with you, circling your clothed clit. your grip on him tightens when he shoves your panties to the side and gathers your wetness before focusing on your clit again. 

your hips stutter and head falls back. your hazy senses distantly warn you that maybe doing this in a car where you aren’t alone with chuuya wasn’t a good idea. what if the driver opens the partition to ask something of your higher up. once again you’re smacked in the face that this isn’t exactly right, you shouldn’t be headed home with your boss. 

you’re brought out of your thoughts when chuuya’s fingers dip down further and prod at your entrance. your breath hitches as he pushes his middle finger inside of you. his fingers are the perfect size, surprisingly long and not abnormally thick but not thin either. you’ve found yourself on multiple occasions staring at chuuya’s hands in the rare moments he actually removes his gloves.

you can feel a noise bubbling in your throat when he brushes his thumb across your clit. “chuu-“ you’re cut off when the ginger adds another finger.

you bite down hard on your lip, trying to not let any noises travel to the front of the car. chuuya notices and leans in, his arm reaching over to spread your legs open. his lips find yours as he does so and in that very moment he chooses to start languidly pumping his fingers in and out of you. you can’t help yourself as you let small moans escape you but the man pulling them out of you makes sure to swallow them up.

when chuuya pulls away from you his bicolored eyes watch you carefully. “no need to hide your pretty noises from me, baby. ‘s soundproof.”

at that reassurance you let out a string of curses while his hand still works you skillfully. you don’t think a man has ever been able to make you feel this good with just his hand. hell, you don’t think even a woman has pulled you so close to the brink this fast with just her hands. it’s almost embarrassing how good he’s making you feel. what’s even worse? chuuya notices.

“‘m i makin’ you feel that good already? gonna be good and cum for me, doll?” chuuya’s fingers speed up, both the ones inside you and the thumb he has brushing against your clit.

you squirm at the increased intensity. your abdomen feels like it’s on fire, the warmth spreads and your vision starts to become spotted. your other hand on the car door now flies to his arm too and you brace yourself the best you can.

“mm fuck- chuuya- gonna- oh m- cumming!” you let out a silent squeal, mouth hanging open as your head is thrown back against the headrest. 

your body convulses lightly as you plummet. the same warmth building from earlier now spreading throughout your entire body. your vision blurs and everything sounds muffled. moans are falling from your mouth but you don’t even register them. chuuya is merciless with his ministrations. he continues to guide you through your orgasm.

once you’ve settled down, all of your tense muscles relax and you slump into your seat. you let out a whimper when chuuya finally pulls away, leaving you feeling distinctly empty. you loll your head around to look at the executive. it’s all you can muster in this moment while you’re still trying to catch your breath. 

the sight you’re met with almost makes you cum for the second time. the ginger looks over to you, catching your gaze immediately. as he maintains eye contact, chuuya brings his hand up to his lips and pushes his soiled fingers past them. you watch as his eyes flutter and throat bob while he drinks up the juices you left behind on his skin. he lets out a sinful groan and you swear it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard. 

you sit up straight and brace yourself for climbing over the center armrest but you’re both startled by a knock on chuuya’s window. that’s when you realize, you must be at his apartment because the car had come to a stop. you reach for your door handle but the sound of the executive behind you clicking his tongue draws your attention away from it.

you peer over at him and he’s giving you a disapproving glare. “don’t you dare touch that damn door, be patient, yeah?”

you feel your face flush, you don’t think you’ve ever been scolded for trying to open your own door. unable to find your voice you simply nod your head. a gratified smile stretches across chuuya’s face. he opens his own door and before he slips out he looks back at you.

“good girl.”

you choke on your own spit. 

those two simple words are enough to have your thighs rubbing together, ready for him again. you’re blaming all of this in the two glasses of champagne you had back at the club. there was no way one man (derogatory) was pulling this kind of reaction out of you on his own. that would just be utterly ridiculous. 

that’s what you try to convince yourself of when your car door opens and chuuya offers you his hand again. you gladly take it considering this time your legs are a little shaky. the gravity manipulator politely dismisses the driver and guides you into the building. 

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི•ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

the ginger has you attached to his hip as the both of you step through the threshold. the lobby is quiet and almost sparkling. you think that this lobby is nicer than the entirety of your apartment. the difference is almost jarring. the older man that’s sitting at the front desk waves politely at chuuya and the executive gives him a friendly wave back. 

“good evening, nakahara-sama. i see you’ve brought a guest.” the older man looks at you with a warm smile. “such a pretty young lady. it’s nice to see nakahara-sama with someone, he rarely has guests outside of his work colleagues.” 

you feel your face heat up in embarrassment. if only the man knew. but who are you to spoil his fun? in fact, you find yourself joining in. 

“it’s nice to meet you…”

the old man blanches and looks almost mortified with himself. “how rude of me! my name is tanaka.”

you introduce yourself as well and give the man a mischievous smile. “thank you for boosting my ego, tanaka. it’s nice to know chuuya isn't bringing home many women.”

the older man’s eyes widen and he tries to stifle a snort. 

“alright. you two are dangerous together. have a good evening tanaka.” chuuya quickly ushers you away with a sour look on his face. “to clarify, there’s a reason i don’t bring other women around and it’s not for the reason you think it is.”

you snicker and can’t help the sardonic smile that’s plastered on your lips. “then tell me, what’s the real reason, chuuya?” 

you vaguely notice you pass a hallway of elevators and instead walk directly to a separate one with a key card pad. 

“you. you’re the reason i don’t bring anyone else around.”

his voice is surprisingly soft and timid, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say anything without full confidence. you blink, the switch in his demeanor is so staggering you buffer for a moment. that paired with the implications of his words has your mouth flapping like a fish out of water.

you try to attribute the fluttering in your stomach to your earlier activities and not his words, yet you’re unable to form a proper coherent thought. “what do you- what?”

chuuya finds your blanching absolutely adorable. the ginger lets out a short chuckle. he doesn’t explain himself. instead the ability user leans in and holds your face with his now gloved hand. he searches your eyes for a moment, you don’t know what he’s looking for but after a moment you think he’s found it because his face relaxes into a satisfied expression. 

he leans in all the way this time, capturing your lips with his own. the kiss starts off gentle but quickly turns fervent when he presses you into his and a wall. that’s when you feel a distinct bulge pressing on your stomach. the thought alone makes you whimper. 

you detach yourself from chuuya’s lips and press your head against the wall behind you, the ginger isn’t deterred as he starts to trail kisses along your jawline. “chuuya…have you been hard this entire time?”

you’re met with a grunt as chuuya all but ignores your comment and works his way down your neck. you let out an amused puff of air and look for the button for what you can only assume is his private elevator. all you’re met with is that damn keycard pad. your arm is snaked around his waist and you tap on his back to gain his attention.

“chuuya, call for the elevator.” your voice comes out far more strained and breathy than you meant it to and you watch as chuuya notices.

he pulls away from you, only enough for him to reach into his pocket and give you an amused smirk. “since when were you the one to give the orders, huh, doll?”

you give him a deadpan look, clearly not amused by his teasing. chuuya, however, evidently thinks he’s hilarious and chuckles to himself as he leans back and scans his keycard to call for the elevator. this was the port mafia executive everyone is scared of? the strongest ability user in all of japan, maybe in all of the world? to you, in this moment, he seems like just some regular 20 something years old loser. he’s so lame and somehow you find it utterly endearing.

the elevator dings and the doors open. a lightbulb goes on in your head and you have a brilliant idea. without wasting another moment you push chuuya into the elevator and before he can even get a complaint out — you knew it was coming by the look on his face — your hand starts stroking his clothed cock. the ginger lets out a hiss as he stumbles back into the wall.

chuuya lets out a shaky breath that’s a stark difference to his following words. “shit, no need to be so rough. ‘m all yours.”

“i don’t know…something tells me you enjoy rough, chuuya-sama.” your tone is teasing, referring to the title tanaka previously used with the executive.

you watch in absolute amusement as your superior’s eyes fly open and brows shoot up. he looks at you with the most scandalized expression. he’s only ever seen this side of you with his other subordinates, your equals. he never realize how much he craved this type of interaction from you until just now. you just gave him something so precious and you don’t even know it. 

chuuya is so astonished he can’t even formulate a way to tease you, his mouth is just blurting out words before his brain can catch up.

“where the hell did that mouth on you come from? just earlier you were trembling at the sight of me watching you sing.” you watch something flash in his eyes and his lips curl up devilishly. “y’know what? i think i deserve a reward for making you cum so easily in the car. what d’ya think, doll?”

you back away, a mischievous smile of yours matching his perfectly. you don’t keep the distance very long — someone had to hit the floor button to get this elevator moving. once you feel the soft jolt of the elevator you make your way to where you left chuuya, still leaning against the wall and watching your every move. the moment you’re close enough to him you sink to your knees. 

you’re face to face with the ginger’s bulging crotch and you stare at him through your lashes. “is this what you had in mind as your reward?”

”yeah, something exactly like this.” chuuya reaches down and runs the fingers of both his hands through your hair, he gathers the tresses all together and fists it all in one hand in a makeshift ponytail. you hum in appreciation. while still looking at the freckled man through your lashes you stick your tongue out and lick a stripe across his clothed length. 

the executive’s eyes flutter, a clear indication that he was sensitive, having been hard for far too long. his eyes momentarily leave yours and flit over to the floor number the elevator is passing. chuuya never thought he would ever value the slow ascent of this damn elevator but he’s found a new appreciation for it. you’ve only climbed 3 stories, which means you still have 20 more. that’s plenty of time, certainly enough for you to get his dick wet enough to slide right into your warm cunt once the elevator has made it to your destination. 

you’re quick to earn chuuya’s attention back when he hears the sound of his buckle being undone. he’s met with the sight of you using your teeth. fuck. chuuya has always known you’re sexy, but this? this might actually drive him insane. a sweet smile curls at your lips as you watch him unravel before your very eyes. 

you hasten your movements, popping the button of his slacks open and using your teeth, once again, to drag the zipper down just enough that his bulge in his boxer-briefs is freed. you do the same with his underwear and, god, when he’s finally free you have to take a moment to admire it. you think it’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, truly. that’s saying something considering you don’t necessarily find the sight of them attractive.

the length of it is just as pale as the rest of his body but the closer it gets to the tip, his skin turns into a soft pink. his veins are visible and pulsing at this point and his tip is already drooling. you notice how there’s a string of precum that’s attached to the wet spot on his underwear but you keep any comments to yourself. 

you look up to chuuya only to find him already watching you. he must have caught you staring because his breathing is shallow and his cheeks are flushed the same shade of pink as his tip. you smile at him again and dart your tongue out to gently lick the slit of his tip. the ginger's head immediately falls back and he lets out a puff of air. 

how is this man real?

you lick up his precum and it tastes absolutely divine. what the actual fuck is he made out of? and what the actual fuck is he doing to you? you actually think it’s insane how much you’re enjoying this. 

your lips wrap around his tip and a low grumble reverberates in his chest. you’re so fucked. down horrendous for this man. your thighs start rubbing together and he’s not even hitting the back of your throat yet. this is so humiliating, no, this is so pathetic of you. you gladly got on your knees for this man. what the fuck is wrong with you?

”hah- doll, keep your pretty eyes on me, yeah? sh-shit- wanna see you cryin’ when you take all of me, got it?” chuuya’s bicolored gaze is somehow still sharp despite the obvious loss of a filter.

oh.

oh.

that’s what’s wrong with you. this man isn’t just a man. this is chuuya nakahara. port mafia executive, strongest ability user and apparently the owner of a silver tongue. your own had reaches up to his, the one that’s holding your hair and you guide him in shoving you down onto his length. you relax your throat and easily take him all in. your nose is buried in his pubic hair and eyes flutter as you test tightening up your throat around him. you gag around chuuya and he let’s out the most obscene moan you think you’ve ever heard. 

the port mafia executive looks a mess. his free hand is tightly gripping his hat atop his head and the perspiration forming on his face starts to trickle along his temples and down his jawline. his breathing comes out in pants and he looks absolutely destroyed. a flicker of pride spreads across your chest. sure, this man has you on your knees voluntarily but you think he would just as easily get on his knees for you. you have this powerful man in the palm of your hand. 

the hand tangled in your hair tugs on you just harsh enough to pull you off of him completely. “jesus christ, i can’t- fuck- doll. i can’t keep doing this, i need to be inside of you. right now. need to be buried in your pretty cunt, please-” 

chuuya doesn’t wait for your response, he lifts you off the floor of the elevator and hoists you up. his grip on his self control is noticeably waning as he momentarily uses his ability to skip stabilizing you on your feet and immediately has you wrapping your legs around his hips. your head is dizzy, everything moving so quickly. the ginger notices and instantly corrects that. 

he has one arm wrapped around you and it’s enough to keep you stable. “…sorry… i got carried away. are you ok with this. we can wait, just 5 more floors and we can go to my bedroom where i have condoms.”

his free hand strokes the hair away from your face. the gesture is soft, a complete 180 from his previous behavior. you lean into the touch, letting your eyes fall shut for just a moment to relish in how he calms you. 

you hum lightly and open your eyes to look at him earnestly. “no, i want you now too. think we’ve both waited long enough.”

chuuya smiles at you and leans in to steal yet other kiss from you. this one is soft but just as desperate as the rest of them. he sneaks his hand between the two of you and pushes your underwear to the side once again. you feel his cock nestle itself right between your folds. 

chuuya lets out a strained exhale and moves his hips to slide himself between your folds. “fuckin’ hell, doll. you’re so damn wet, could get off just like this. wanna feel how soft and warm your pussy is, though. can i, baby? please?”

your  hands tug at the hairs at the base of chuuya’s neck and he hisses. “chuuya, please, just fuck me already.”

that’s all the confirmation chuuya needs. he uses his free hand that’s still positioned between the two of you to grab the base of his dick and align himself with your entrance. his tips prods at you and as he’s sinking you onto him, both of you letting out an absurd amount of moans, the elevator finally dings. the doors open to reveal chuuya’s apartment to you. 

you would love to admire the vast living quarters but your attention is solely on chuuya. the way he stretches has you in near shambles. hiccuped whimpers leave your lips and you already feel so full. 

you weren’t going to last like this, there is no way in hell you’re going to last more than maybe 5 minutes. but based on chuuya’s reaction, incoherent babbles falling past his lips and hair matted to his forehead with sweat, neither was he. the mafioso’s present enough to know you’ve made it to his apartment. 

chuuya plants a hand on both sides of your ass and walks you into his home. he kicks his shoes off haphazardly and you let yours fall somewhere near his. your superior makes it all but 7 paces forward before he’s pressing you against a wall in the foyer. 

“you feel s’fuckin’ good, baby. s’tight and warm and soft. s’perfect f’me.” the ginger’s words are slurred, more so than when he was actually drinking.

you’re in no better condition as you whine out, “chuuya, need more. need you to move, wanna feel you moving inside of me.”

who is he to deny you of such a pretty request. you’re practically sobbing when chuuya’s hips roll into you before pulling back and bullying back into your fluttering cunt. you let out a loud moan, almost screaming, the kind that hangs on the walls and echoes throughout the room. before you can get too carried away, you crash your lips into chuuya’s and let him drink up your noises just as you do with him. 

his grip on your ass is bruising as his fingertips bite into the plush skin through your dress. god, your dress, it was one of the nicest articles of clothing you own and now it’s most definitely ruined. you hardly have the capacity to worry about that right now.

chuuya’s pace quickens to an impossible pace. he’s jostling you around so much that your head dizzies and you can’t even keep your lips attached to his. you let your head drop to the executive’s shoulder and your lips ghost his earlobe. your moans and whines are now loud and clear in his ear. 

a guttural groan escapes the ginger and his hips begin to stutter. he’s close, you identify it right away. he was going to cum soon and you were still on the brink, barely not there yet. 

“more, chuuya need- oh my god- need more, please…” 

chuuya hums out an acknowledgement — maintaining his pace, he frees one of his hands and reaches between the two of you once more. his middle finger locates your clit with ease and it almost sends you spiraling right then and there.

your forehead nuzzles further into chuuya’s neck at the extra stimulation. “chuuya- fuck- chuuya, chuuya, chuuya….”

your mind finally goes blank giving way to the man bullying into your cunt so deliciously. he’s all you can hear, feel, smell, taste and see. your senses are consumed by him. your eyes well up with tears at the immense amount of pleasure your experience. 

it’s only when you have enough sense to pick up your head to warn chuuya of your incoming orgasm that your fuzzy brain registers the encouragement and cooing he’s offering you.

chuuya’s voice is strained but his comfort is enough to send you into a fit of sobs as you finally crash into your second high of the night. this one is far more intense than the last. you feel your walls convulsing around chuuya’s cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him nestled deep inside of you. the aforementioned man seems to be at his wits end and his next words prove you right.

“o-oh- hah- fuck- doll, ‘m gonna cum- fuck- where do you want it, where do i- shit-“

you grip his shoulders desperately and let out a whimper, still incoherent and flitting in and out of consciousness as your orgasm still washes over you in waves. “inside- chuuya, want you to- mmm fuck- want you to cum inside of me. please, please, please-“

that’s it, that’s the only thing you need to say to have chuuya burying himself deep inside of your cunt and spilling into you. you can feel the way his cock twitches and pulses against your walls as he empties himself. you both breathe in unison as your try to catch your breath and come back to reality from the mind breaking pleasure you’d just experienced.

chuuya’s the first to come back. he straightens, letting his coat hit the floor. he’s gentle, moving you to lean into him as he continues to support you when he peels you off the wall. you hum in appreciation and vaguely realize you should wrap your arms around his shoulders, so you do. 

chuuya doesn’t take you far. you’re lifting your head the same moment he’s squatting down to sit you both on the couch. he hoists you up, ready to slip himself out when you let out a noise that’s a cross between a whine and a whimper. you’re shaking your head at him and how is he supposed to say no to your tear streaked face. 

chuuya allows you to cockwarm as he pulls his phone from his pocket and starts typing.

your head tilts in confusion and you furrow your brows at him. ”who are you texting?”

”the boss and akutagawa.” chuuya’s quick to answer as he types away still.

”…what for?”

he smirks and looks at you this time while he speaks. ”i need to tell the boss i’ll be missing our meeting tomorrow and akutagawa that you’ll be absent from assignment tomorrow. looks like we’ve both come down with a hellish stomach bug.”

your face flushes at his implication. it seemed to you chuuya didn’t plan on letting you sleep much tonight. you find yourself running your hands over his shoulders and chest. you wouldn’t mind seeing him completely undressed. when you look back at him, he seems to have the same thought as his eyes drink you in.

it’s probably for the best that he was calling you both off duty tomorrow. it seems like you have a long night ahead of you.

[thewickedjazzy]

Level 2: Senses [mirror sex] for Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩soft dom! osamu dazai x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩Synopsis: an argument with dazai boils over, as he pushes you to your limits, proving with every touch that the café girl has nothing on you—or your trembling legs.

ᡣ𐭩Warnings: nsfw, 18+ mdni, smut with plot, soft dom! dazai, praise kink, mirror sex, power dynamics, mention of cum, rough sex, sweaty sex, slight bondage, aftercare...etc.

ᡣ𐭩Word count: 2.1k. animated dividers by @/toastray.

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

“why do you let her hang all over you?” the words spill out before you can stop them, harsher than you intended. but you can't swallow them back. not when the frustration has been building for days.

you stand in the low-lit corner of dazai's bedroom, arms crossed tightly over your chest, staring him down. does he know? does he care? every time you see her at the café—fingers tracing the edge of his sleeve, her gaze shameless and sticky, like she’s entitled to every sliver of his attention—it sets something off inside you. something you hate to admit.

dazai stands a few paces away, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring at you like you’ve just accused him of something absurd. maybe you have. maybe you haven’t. “are you really this upset about her?” his voice is calm, too calm, and the restraint in his tone makes your stomach knot.

“shouldn’t i be?” you counter, feeling the heat rise to your face. your pulse pounds in your ears, “why do you let her act that way? why don’t you stop her?”

silence again. does he even have an answer? maybe he’s not bothered by it because it doesn’t mean anything to him. or maybe—maybe it means everything, and you’re the fool standing here, questioning him like it’s not eating you alive.

dazai tilts his head, his chocolate eyes studying you, and for a moment you wonder what’s going through his mind. is he amused? bored? does he think you’re being ridiculous? after all, neither of you has ever voiced your feelings for one another.

“and why does it bother you so much?” his voice lowers as he steps closer, the calmness giving way to exasperated disbelief. “do you really believe i’d choose her over you?”

his question stings. why is he turning this on you? isn't he the one who’s been too indifferent, too careless, always letting other women linger too close? you draw in a shaky breath, your heart tight in your chest. “you don’t push her away,” you say, voice wavering even though you try to steady it. “that’s why i think...” your words falter, caught in the knot of your throat. “It’s like... she has something i don’t. something you want.”

his laugh is soft, but it feels more like a sigh, like he’s disappointed you even think that. “what could she possibly have that you don’t?” he’s closer now, his fingers ghosting over your wrist, tugging you gently toward him. “no one else gets this close to me. not like you do.”

and there it is—proximity, his words, slipping through your defences like water through cracks in stone. you hate how easily he pulls you in, how effortlessly he makes your doubts feel small. but still, the question remains, the doubt stubborn.

“then why don’t you push her away?”

“because,” his grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing across your pulse point. “you look so pretty when you're mad”

before you can respond, his hands move lower, tracing the outline of your waist slowly. he doesn’t smile, doesn’t smirk like you’d expect. instead, he leans in close, his breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

“you want me to prove it?” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck, making your heartbeat quickens with every carefully chosen word. “you want me to show you why you never have to be jealous?”

you hate how easily he can always dissolve your anger with his touch, how your body betrays you, melting against his as he begins to undo the buttons of your shirt. the soft rustle of fabric is the only sound between you, each button undone pulling you further into the moment, despite the storm raging in your chest.

your shirt falls to the floor, leaving your bare breasts exposed to the cool air. his hands linger on your shoulders for a moment before sliding down your arms, his touch featherlight and you can’t help but shiver under his gaze, feeling his now dark chocolate eyes drink in every inch of you.

“look at me,” he says softly, though his tone is still soft enough to feel intimate. “god, look at how beautiful you are.”

he steps behind you now, guiding you toward the full-length mirror standing across from the bed, its antique frame intricately carved, reflecting both of you in the low amber light—his tall frame towering behind you, hands moving with a slow, possessive ease over your skin.

you swallow hard as his fingers trail over your bare shoulders, down the curve of your spine, before hooking into the waistband of your pants. his breath makes your skin tingle as he slowly pulls them down, leaving you completely exposed.

“do you think i’d touch her like this?”

why does this feel so good when you're still mad at him? the question echoes in your mind as you bite your lip, your eyes wandering to your reflection, seeking answers in your own gaze.

“you’ve always been mine,” he murmurs against your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below it. “no one else gets this close. no one else even gets a chance.”

his fingers trail down your arms, wrapping loosely around your wrists before letting go. you watch him through the mirror, your breath hitching as he pulls a strip of his familiar white bandages from his pocket.

you open your mouth to say something, but he’s already wrapping the bandage around your wrist, securing it with a tenderness that feels almost too intimate. his eyes meet yours in the reflection, his voice a soft hum. “this is what you don’t understand,” he whispers. “no woman in the world would ever get to see me like this. no one but you.”

he finishes wrapping one wrist and moves to the other, his touch is a soft, golden warmth, like the sun’s first rays after a cold night. “you’re the only one who gets to wear these,” he continues, his tone deeper now, more affectionate. “the only one who gets to see the parts of me that no one else does.”

once your wrists are bound, he slips them behind his neck, pulling you closer to him, your back pressed against his chest, the heat of his body seeping into yours. he holds you there, his fingers exploring the curves of your body, tracing the lines of your stomach, your breasts, teasingly moving lower and with a swift move, he slips off his pants and dress shirt, pressing his hard cock against your ass through his boxers.

“you feel that?” his voice is thick now, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “that’s yours. i’m yours.”

you tilt your head back, gasping as his breath caresses your skin, mingling with the intoxicating scent of him. “mine?” you whisper, the word tasting unfamiliar yet invigorating on your tongue.

“every inch of me.” his fingers glide across your skin until it rests between your thighs, where you want him the most. you feel your breath catch in your throat, a jolt of ecstasy shooting straight to your core, fueling an overwhelming desire that wraps around your lower stomach.

his tongue teases your bottom lip while grinding his clothed, hard cock against your ass, lifting you slightly with one arm to press your back firmly against his chest, and he devours your mouth, hot soft tongue slipping in to tangle with yours, groaning deeply, utterly intoxicated by your taste.

“ ’sam—ahh-” your sentence got cut by his middle and ring finger dipping between your folds and leaving in an instant.

“fuh-kk” he hisses, “look at you so beautiful.” he tilts your gaze until it locks on the mirror. “never met anyone who’s as beautiful as you, look at your pretty face,” the brunet continues to rasp as his lips drag across your flesh, placing small kisses into the crook of your neck while pumping into your folds gently curling his long slender finger before pushing another one just to slightly brush them against your sweet spot, watching you with half-lidded lust drunk eyes in the mirror as you whimper in pleasure.

dazai groans, fumbling behind you as he hastily shoves down his boxers only to nudge his tip through your slick folds, fingers slip from your cunt to circle around slit to smudging both your juices with his precum, before he pushes deep inside you drawing a broken gasp from you in which he quickly silence pressing his slick-coated fingers between your pretty lips, knowing exactly what you're supposed to do. your tongue swirls around his digits, gladly tasting of both your arousals as you suck on his fingers, mind short-circuiting savouring your combined slick essence.

dazai keeps placing wet kisses along your neck and collarbone keeping your toes off the ground with both his arms placed under your breasts as he juts his cock deep inside you almost reaching your womb.

“umph—fuck..i love your tits,” he coos, catching your reflected gaze and watching how beautiful you look getting fucked by him, with both your arms tied behind his neck as he bounces you on his cock. his eyes lockes on your delicious breasts admiring how they jiggle with each thrust of his hips, “love how soft they are, how they bounce when i fuck you,”

“nngh—hah please- k-keep going fuck—yes mngh,” your eyes roll back, body is all numb by now, completely ignoring the sting in your arms, as all you can focus on is his brutal pace, feeling your slick run down your thighs.

“look at your pretty pussy yeah?—uh fuck-look how it sucks me in, so eager for my cock hmm? i could fuck you—ungh..all the time.” he growls between words, losing his mind, as you struggle to take him at this punishing fast speed.

“fuh-ck yes ’samu nghh, feels so good ahh right there—goddamnit ’m gonna cum gonna cum aah-” you're particularly screaming by now, legs trembling as he holds you tight against his chest and you can feel the droplets of his sweat sliding down your back, your breasts bouncing, eyes crossing in a blissed-out haze.

“yeah? you're gonna cum hmm? my pretty sweet girl is gonna cum? fuuck fuck..yes yes—squeeze me like that—ngh cum on my cock baby...c’mon give it to me.” he keeps chanting in your ears as his tip keeps assaulting your g-spot.

“y-yess—fuck ’samfff” your cry got muffled by his hungry kiss, tasting all of him, too brainless and fucked out to focus on the constant twitching of his cock between your spongy slick walls, hips snapping faster and faster, filling his bedroom with the filthy lewd noises of his balls slamming against your folds as he rides out his orgasm filling you with his thick ropes of white seeds.

your lips barely manage to form a muffled squeal against dazai's wet lips before pleasure shoots through your veins, toes curling from the intensity of your full body orgasm, body trembling and writhing, gushing all over his cock.

dazai finally pulls back slightly, breath unsteady only connected to you by a string of your swapped spit.

one of his hands presses against the mirror trying to steady himself as he catches his breath. he then pulls out of you letting your mixed arousal drool down your thighs and soak the wooden floor. he places a soft, wet kiss on your lips before releasing your wrists from behind his neck, allowing them to fall to your sides.

he gently lets your feet touch the floor, loosening his firm hold around your waist. but just as he's about to let go, you stumble instantly, your legs trembling as you nearly fall. “hey hey baby, you okay?” he quickly catches you again, pulling you close to him with a reassuring grip.

“y-yes just t-ired” you manage to breathe out.

in one smooth motion, he spins you around so you're facing him. “sorry, i might've overdone it a bit,” he teases, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. his hands linger on your waist, keeping you close as your legs slowly regain strength.

“so,” he tilts his head as he leans down a bit, “do you still think I want that girl from the café?” he raises an eyebrow, watching for your reaction, clearly amused by the idea.

his fingers trail lightly up your sides, pulling you closer again as if to remind you exactly where his attention lies. “because, sweetheart,” he adds with a smirk, “if this hasn’t convinced you yet, i can still go for another round.”

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda

[dietcokegirly12]

“What'd You Do to the Eggnog?”

featuring osamu dazai

꒰ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ꒱

art credit: pinterest!!♡

꒰ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ꒱

synopsis: after spiking dazai's eggnog with aphrodisiacs, things get a bit...heated

word count: 1.4k

tags: aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex, dry-humping, needy!dazai, multiple rounds, overstimulation, mating press, cervix kissing, etc etc

kinkmas december 1st ☃︎⊹₊

・┈・╴⊹˚₊ 𓍢ִ໋⛾ ׂ 𓈒・┈・╴⊹˚₊ 𓍢ִ໋⛾ ׂ 𓈒・┈・╴⊹˚₊ 𓍢ִ໋⛾ ׂ 𓈒・

you knew you were in trouble the second dazai got through an entire glass. then, a second one. and he was currently halfway through his third.

you truly hadn’t meant for him to drink that much. it was supposed to be a fun little prank, one where you spiked his eggnog with aphrodisiacs, and got him all needy and flustered, before finally giving in, after teasing him relentlessly.

but, by the time you got back, he was already almost finished with the entire half gallon you made.

lifting the glass to his lips to finish off yet another glass.

"stop!" you raced over to snatch the cup away from him, causing a startled look to flash across his face.

"dazai, please don't tell me you drank all that."

“what? m'sorryyy it was so good! did you put something different in it? cinnamon?"

you swallow. “y-yeah sure. are you.. ah feeling.. alright?”

he furrows his eyebrows. "yeah? so when are we going to start decorating?"

oh right. you two were supposed to be decorating gingerbread cookies for the holidays. in all the excitement, you had forgotten, but now, with the hopeful thought that maybe the aphrodisiacs weren't as strong as you had thought, maybe it was going to be okay.

you had no idea how wrong you were.

"dazai, pass me the gumdrops."

he gives you the glass bowl filled with multi-colored, sugared drops, you quickly pressing them on to your shaped cookie.

"aww look how cute!" you gushed, adding a few last finishing touches with the frosting bag.

"phew, it's hot in here, baby." dazai fans himself, leaning over the counter as he adds candies to his own gingerbread man.

"yeah, i think it's from the oven." you distractedly pipe little swirls, not noticing when dazai's breathing gets heavier next to you.

suddenly, you accidentally squeeze too hard, causing frosting to spurt out in a clump, messing up the neat patterns you had created.

"fuck! 'samu, can you get me a paper towel?"

you should've known something was wrong the instant dazai was unusually quiet, simply turning around to do as you had asked.

but you were too busy fussing over the frosting covered cookies, frantically trying to swipe off the excess in hopes of saving them to notice.

so, when you felt the warmth of someone pressing up behind you, it startled you.

enough for you to almost drop the cookie you had been holding up, especially when that someone moaned breathily into your ear, subtly grinding against you.

"dazai?" you gasp, turning back slightly to face him.

he didn't like that, though, shoving you forward with enough force that it has you bracing your hands on the counter, mouth agape.

"fuck, m'sorry! jus'... stay still. please." the tone of his voice is whiney, and has you clenching your thighs together, already pulsing with need.

he ruts against you with an almost frantic kind of urgency, his bulge rubbing tantalizingly on your ass, as his palms come to cup your breasts, touching anywhere he can reach.

"i d-don't know why i feel like this," he gasps out. "i jus' feel hot all over an'..."

and then you can't do anything but whimper as he pushes you further, until your forehead touches the cool marble of the table, practically bending you in half.

"...you jus' look so good." his hips keep working against you, without any semblance of a pace, just rubbing himself on you as hard as he can.

"dazai.." you manage to groan out. "dazai, it's aphrodisiacs! i put aphrodisiacs in the eggnog, i didn't.. ah.. think they would work, or that you would.. hah.. drink so much."

he stiffens at your words, but doesn't halt his grinding. "oh, you naughty, naughty girl."

his words don't hold any actual malice in them, though, voice too ragged and needy for that.

"m'sorry! m'sorry!" you cry out, as his hips thrust into you harder, humping you vigorously, unable to stop himself.

"s'too late for that now. now..." he pants out. "you hafta help me with the.. ah.. problem you caused, sweets."

you squeal, as he lifts you up by the hips, thrusting your face and chest into the table roughly, already yanking down the thin, lacy panties you had on under your apron.

"samuuu..!" your face is pushed down further into the counter as he grunts above you, tugging down his own loose christmas pj pants, to press his throbbing boner against your bare pussy, slick already seeping out.

"c-can't wait.." he moans above you, hips already dragging languidly back and forth to smear his angry, leaking tip all over your cunt. "s'okay if i put it in now, doll?"

you can only whimper in reply, mouth muffled by the table you're shoved against, bucking your hips back into him as affirmation.

he groans at that, his pulsating cock already beginning to push in, stretching you out as he gets past the first tight ring of muscle, pussy greedily sucking him in for more, more.

when he finally manages to bottom out inside you, bulbous tip thrumming against your cervix, wet squelches are all you can hear as he starts an absolutely brutal pace.

"fuck! what did you put in that eggnog?" he gasps between thrusts, plowing into you so hard, you swear you can feel him all the way in your lungs.

you cry out in reply as he grabs the fat of your ass, pulling you into him harder until the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room.

"samu!" you wail. "slower! slower!"

"baby i can't!" he moans, though to his credit, he eases his hands up slightly, hips becoming sloppier with every thrust.

and you can feel your high approaching with every quickened breath you take, stomach coiling up into tight little knots as you clench harder around him, coaxing him to release.

"m'sorry... never felt like this.. ah... i n-need..." dazai's words are all slurred together, practically unintelligible in his rambling as he gets closer and closer.

and then he's cumming.

and you swear the aphrodisiacs had something to do with it, because as he fills you with spurt after spurt of hot, sticky seed, there's so much of it, it has you gasping, his cock releasing long pulses of white into your overstuffed cunt.

your walls spasm and clench around him, milking him for every last drop as your own eyes roll back in pleasure, the taut stiffness of your stomach finally letting go, your vision blurring with white, and thighs trembling.

and no sooner than a couple moments after you've come back down from your high, dazai's already spinning you around, and lifting you up by your plush thighs to fold you into a mean mating press.

you're almost dizzy as you feel the points of your knees pressing against your cushy tits, dazai barely giving you a moment to collect yourself before he's fucking into you raw at this new angle.

"one more.. m'sorry i jus' need o-one more."

"samu..!" you half-moan half-protest, clawing at him as your eyes roll back in your head.

"i know- i knowwww," he rocks his hips back and forth with desperate speed, head tilted back with flushed cheeks and sweaty, mussed-up hair curling to his forehead. "but can you blame me? it's.. hah.. y-your fault!"

you whimper, already feeling tears of overstimulation pricking at your vision, but at the same time, feeling desperately turned on by this side of dazai.

with a feral growl, he throws your legs over your shoulders, stretching you even further to take more of his weighty shaft. "n-need more.. more."

it seemed like he was trying to mold himself as close as possible into your snug cunt, huffing with exertion as he pounds into you with breath after ragged breath, chest practically laid flat against yours.

when he reaches that spot, the one that's soft and squishy and has your toes curling almost instantly, you can't even warn him.

you're cumming.

absolutely drenching him in your syrupy slick, gushing all over his throbbing cock, which in return, pumps out hot, oozing cum deep into you, voice breaking off into a whine.

you pant softly, exertion weighing your limbs down as the last few pulses of his creamy white ribbons spurt into you.

before you've even fully come back to yourself though, you feel dazai crawling up your body to mouth kisses along your neck, cock still fully erect and aching inside you. "o-one more? please?"

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @urlocalfemcel-xx @ghostedwriting @amanoava @fluffyfrog1619 @chuuyaslittledoll @newnlovesjennie

[melliemell]

Pairing: Chuuya x f!reader

Contents: NSFW, penetration (reader receiving), Chuuya-levels of cursing, don't say he's cute, he'd get grumpy about it and fuck you stupid to prove a point, incessant flirting, Approx 1.1k words

It really started off as a joke.

An off-hand comment you made. You didn’t intend on paying more attention to it… were it not Chuuya’s reaction; an eyebrow raised as he leaned into his seat, that god-awful grin of his spreading wide as he regarded you.

Your date was going well, all things considered. A nice restaurant, your own secluded corner to settle in at and relax, a gift of overly extravagant flowers–always the charmer that one, Chuuya even pulled the chair for you–it was perfect. A sense of being with the right person doing the right thing.

Finally having the time for each other.

And doing normal, romantic things was part of this evening’s plans.

Except it was Chuuya you were speaking of. Nothing that simple ever happened around him.

“So you think I’m boring?” he asked, playing the amused card to the tenth. There was none of his usual bark, only the teasing tone you had grown accustomed to.

“Misleading–” you began, leaning into his personal space to poke at his chest. “–is what I was referring to. This grand, scary mafioso… that also happens to spend half an hour choosing which shoes go best with which vest. You portray the part of barking dog really well but you’re actually a cutie.” And you winked, just to nail it down.

Chuuya clicked his tongue. He didn’t like it when you babied him, you knew that. But his reactions were too good to miss out on. 

“Hah? That the type of man ya take me for?” he grumbled, not quite masking the slight annoyance this time around. 

You hummed, trailing a finger down his chest. “Devastated, are you?”

Chuuya grabbed your hand, raising it to plant a kiss to your wrist. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he said, “Damn right I am. Calling me ‘cute’ out here like ya don’t know any better.”

You cocked your head, eyebrow raised in feigned confusion. “What? You gonna do something about it?” You knew perfectly well where this was going.

A whispered “fuck” left Chuuya’s lips, audible only for you to hear. And it was then it got settled– you weren’t suited for the romance part. Not the innocent, charming one at least. You needed a bit… more.

It became even clearer when less than an hour later your hands fumbled for your keys, Chuuya glued to your back as he trailed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“I really hoped we’d be doing the ‘sweet date and movie night combo’, you know? Have you snuggled up against me and all,” you said, wasting no time as you both stumbled through the entrance, your hands finding their way around Chuuya’s neck. He kicked the door shut before trapping you against the nearby wall, lips seeking yours. 

“I’ll snuggle you up all night long, doll.” You could taste the wine on his tongue, the hurried way he kissed you leaving no space for distraction. Demanding your full attention was a staple mark of Chuuya’s, you couldn’t deny it.

“You seem preoccupied with other things, though,” you said, unbuttoning his vest.

Chuuya’s hands were already on your bra, unclasping the hooks before you felt a hand cup your breast, the barely-there caress of a thumb over your stiffened bud sending tingles of pleasure down your body in seconds. “How about you just ask me nicely, hm?” 

“Ah, you want me to beg now?” you asked, a finger trailing the outline of his lower lip, and you savored the way his breath trembled. Teasing like this would be wise only for now, you doubted he’d let you off the hook as easily soon enough. Not when you could feel his cock through the fabric of his trousers, hard against your thigh and probably leaking. 

Chuuya kissed your finger before biting it lightly, and you chuckled. “Don’t wanna leave me guessing what you want, do you? I might end up biting somewhere ya don’t want me to, sweets.”

You arched your hips forward, drawing a low groan from Chuuya. “We’ll have to wait and see then. I’m very open-minded, you know.”

“And stubborn,” Chuuya grinned, rocking against you. “Fu-uck, this feels good. I forgot what my point was, damnit.”

“Ha, loser.”

“Fuck off, bigger loser.” 

You were about to make fun of him again, seeing as he lost brain cells faster the hornier he got, but… you felt him pinch your nipple this time, rolling your bud between his skilled fingers as he dived for your neck again. The throbbing between your legs distracted you, intensifying even more as Chuuya’s tongue trailed along your pulse, leaving damp skin to prickle against the cold air. 

Rough wall against your back turned into soft sheets in a flurry of fragmented moments. Only Chuuya’s presence remained firm beside you. He settled between your legs, hands hurriedly discarding any remaining garments as fast as you both could, all the while without letting go of each other. Not once.

You barely had your underwear down before Chuuya was rocking forward, cock settling between your pussy lips as he rubbed against you. Your wetness spread over his tip only to draw a low moan from his parted lips. 

“Impatient,” you said, hooking your ankles around his hips. 

“You wanted the real deal tonight,” he grinned at you. “Going around calling me boring and cute all evening. Like hell I’ll leave it at that.”

“You gonna change my mind, fancy hat boy?”

“Ooh, you betcha,” Chuuya said, and slowly sank into the heat of your throbbing cunt.

You knew Chuuya was a talker; never shutting up even when you really would rather just hold him, hand clasped over his mouth as he fucked you in peace.

But not this time. It was quick and rough, him bottoming out in you with every slick thrust. He barely gave you time to take your bearings, his hand finding your clit only to start rubbing mercilessly in sync with his movements. Trying to stifle your moans was proving near impossible. Only Chuuya’s lips served as help, swallowing your every sound as he kissed you stupid. 

“Oh, fuck…” you panted, pulling away. 

“Nuh-huh, where ya going, sweets?” Chuuya ground his hips against yours, drawing another pained moan from your throat. “I’m doing you good, yeah? Come on, keep up with me.”

Your nails dug into his back even as your body trembled all over. “A bit too good there.”

“Yeah?” Chuuya trailed kisses down your jawline, his pace slowed. For now, at least. “Wanna ask me nicely about it?” he whispered.

Fuck. “I’m in for it, aren’t I?” you asked, knowing full well the answer. 

Chuuya only grinned.

Yeah, it was about to be a long night.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

just thinking about chuuya spoiling the absolute fuck out of you.

$7 coffee? he’s got it.

your entire amazon wishlist? taken care of.

those cute, sheer, expensive clothes you absolutely don’t need but want? he’s got that for you and more.

and its not just limited to money. chuuya treats you like you’re made of diamonds. he especially loves taking you out for joyrides on his motorcycle so he can show you off. you and the bike, (he also calls it his baby) but mostly you.

he’s generous, and loving, and sweet like candy, even in the bedroom. until he isn’t.

chuuya is a rough lover, pulling orgasms out of you like its second nature. after a long day of spoiling and pampering you, he’ll spank you and tug your hair until you suck his cock the way he likes it.

“c’mon, cherie.” he groans, head thrown back while he sits on the couch, blue eyes watching you. “i worked you better than that, doll.”

your misty eyes while bobbing your head up and down isn’t lost on him. you shamelessly watch him, seeing his silky white shirt unbuttoned white your lipstick stains on his muscles. you can’t wait to get on his lap and ease down onto him, but not until chuuya says you can.

he groans again, his gloved hands slicking your hair back into a makeshift ponytail while you suck him off. he knows he’s being an asshole, and he knows you love it.

“tellement bien, jolie fille.” he praises, words rolling off his tongue in a way that makes your inside stir for him. “i’m gonna cum.”

he looks down at you and takes pity, wiping your tears. he almost laughs, seeing the expensive clothes he tore off of you ruthlessly. he’ll fuck you good as a reward, and buy you 10 more. 💋