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strawberrygirll13 · 27 days ago

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I care about you

Dazai x Reader

Pt 1

Warnings: Depression, self harm, mentions of suicide attempts, mental illness.

The restaurant was quiet, save for the occasional clinking of plates and murmurs of other diners. Candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the table. Across from you, Dazai sat back in his chair, his arm lazily draped over the backrest, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You know,” he started, swirling the wine in his glass, “if this steak were my last meal, I think I’d die happy.”

You set your fork down, a sense of unease already creeping in. “Dazai…”

He didn’t seem to notice the warning in your voice, his eyes gleaming with something darker. “But,” he continued, his voice calm, “if I were to go, I’d want it to be something more dramatic. Something… poetic. Maybe a leap into a river. Or from a high-rise at sunset. You know, something that would leave an impression.”

You couldn’t keep the tension from building in your chest. “Dazai, I really don’t like it when you talk like that.”

He paused for a moment, the grin still playing on his lips. “Oh? Why not?” he said, tilting his head, seemingly unfazed. “It’s the truth. I’ve tried a few things, you know.”

Your fingers tightened around your napkin, and you felt a cold chill run through you. “What do you mean ‘tried a few things’?”

Dazai leaned forward, his gaze sharp as he looked directly at you. “Well, let me think... I’ve tried hanging myself, drowning myself—Yokohama Harbor, to be exact. It was freezing, but strangely peaceful. I really thought it would work that time. But no, a fisherman pulled me out before I could go under for good.” He chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pathetic, huh?”

You felt your heart drop, but he kept going, unperturbed. “I also tried jumping in front of a train once. The timing was all wrong, though. I only got clipped, nothing serious. And then there was the time I tried poisoning myself, but the drink was too weak. Didn’t do the job. But you know, the one that came closest? Cutting my wrists. I really thought that one would do it. I got pretty close, but again, I ended up surviving.”

Each attempt, each method, he listed it so casually, as if they were simple anecdotes, nothing more than stories to amuse himself. The weight of his words pressed down on you, suffocating, until you couldn’t breathe. You felt a mix of disgust and helplessness, your stomach twisting in knots. This wasn’t just dark humor; this was the product of something deeper, something broken. And it was eating at him.

“Dazai,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, stop. I don’t want to hear this. This isn’t funny.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by your reaction. “Why not?” he asked, genuinely curious. “It’s just a little dark humor. Surely you, of all people, aren’t disturbed by some harmless stories?”

“Harmless?” You stood up abruptly, unable to sit through it any longer. “It’s cruel. It’s wrong. I don’t know why you think this is okay, but it’s not. I care about you, Dazai, and hearing you talk like this…” You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “It makes me feel awful. Can you not see that?”

He looked at you for a long moment, his smile never wavering, though his eyes were colder than usual. “Cruel?” he repeated, amusement still in his tone. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not as though anyone would care if I actually died, anyway. Hell, the world would probably be better off without me. It’s not like I have anyone who would mourn me.”

You shook your head, a knot forming in your throat. This wasn’t just about his words anymore; it was about the way he saw himself. The way he thought of his life as something so expendable.

"And you know," he added, almost as an afterthought, "I’ve been thinking about finding a beautiful woman to share my final moments with. Someone who wouldn’t mind a little poetic death. I’ve been looking for someone who’d be willing to… you know, commit double suicide with me. My dear friend, you’d do perfectly." His grin was wider now, predatory, and it made your skin crawl.

You stared at him, unable to process how casually he could say something so horrifying. “Why would you say that to me? Why would you ask me something like that?”

He laughed, but it was an empty, hollow sound. “Why? Because you’re one of the few people I actually respect. I thought you’d find the idea appealing. You’re beautiful, aren’t you? You would make a perfect match for me in the end.”

Your hands shook at your sides, but you didn’t back down. “No, Dazai. No. I don’t find any of this funny. You’ve made me so uncomfortable tonight, and you did it on purpose, didn’t you? You wanted to make me feel bad. Well, congratulations, you’ve succeeded.”

He blinked at you, for the first time showing a crack in his indifference, his smirk faltering for a split second as he processed your words. But before he could respond, you turned and grabbed your coat, slipping it over your shoulders.

“I’m leaving,” you said, your voice firm but quiet.

Dazai didn’t say anything. He just watched as you moved toward the door, his gaze unreadable. The air between you had shifted, and you couldn’t quite understand it, but you knew one thing for certain: You couldn’t sit there and let him pull you into his darkness.

With one last glance at him, you stepped out into the cold night air, the weight of the conversation lingering with you, but you didn’t turn back.

The days following that tense dinner were markedly different. You kept your interactions with Dazai strictly professional, your usual casual conversations replaced with curt, pointed words. Whenever a task required communication, you went through others—Kunikida, Atsushi, anyone else who could serve as a buffer between you and him. Dazai, however, wasn’t one to let things go unnoticed, especially when they disrupted his carefully cultivated routines.

You knew he’d noticed the shift—he wasn’t an idiot. But instead of apologizing or addressing it directly, he chose his usual route: mischief.

It started small. A sly remark here, an exaggerated sigh there. When you ignored those, he ramped it up. During one meeting, he’d kept dropping pens onto your side of the table, leaning over to retrieve them with the kind of smug grin that made you want to throttle him. When you didn’t react, his antics escalated.

The breaking point came one quiet afternoon when you returned to your desk only to find his desk… wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

He’d moved it.

Right in front of yours, so close the two desks were now touching, effectively making it one long, cluttered mess of books, papers, and his personal junk. Your side was spotless, as always, but his was overflowing—documents spilling over onto your workspace, a half-eaten bag of snacks perched precariously on the edge, and his coat draped lazily over your chair.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the absurdity before you, willing yourself to stay calm.

“Do you mind?” you finally asked, your voice cold as you folded your arms.

Dazai, leaning back in his chair with a lopsided grin, didn’t miss a beat. “Not at all. Cozy, isn’t it?”

“It’s not cozy,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes. “It’s invasive. Move your desk back.”

“But I like it here,” he replied, spinning his pen between his fingers. “Better lighting. Better company. Well... not bettercompany, but you’re here, so it’ll do.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. Instead, you sat down, pushed his papers to the far edge of your desk, and went back to your work.

This didn’t deter him in the slightest. Over the next hour, he kept finding ways to encroach on your space—tossing paperclips onto your side, humming loudly, even nudging your coffee mug with his own until it was teetering dangerously close to the edge.

Finally, when it seemed like he might actually topple it over, you shot him a glare. “If you spill that, I swear—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, leaning in closer. “Yell at me? Ignore me some more? I think you’ve got the ignoring part down pretty well already.”

You didn’t respond, turning back to your work with tight-lipped determination.

His frustration, though, was becoming harder for him to hide. You could see it in the way he kept drumming his fingers on the desk, in the exaggerated way he sighed every five minutes, in the way his usual lazy demeanor seemed a little too deliberate, like he was trying too hard to act like this wasn’t bothering him.

And then, he started writing notes.

At first, he didn’t even try to be subtle about it. He scribbled something down on a piece of paper, folded it neatly, and slid it onto your side of the desk.

You ignored it.

A second note followed, then a third. You didn’t open any of them, and the more you ignored them, the more frustrated he seemed to become.

By the fourth note, he didn’t even bother folding it anymore. Instead, he scrawled the words in large, dramatic letters across a sheet of paper and held it up directly in your line of sight.

“ARE YOU STILL MAD?”

You didn’t look at him, but he kept the note there until you finally sighed and muttered, “Yes.”

He blinked, clearly not expecting an actual answer. Then, with a grin, he grabbed another sheet of paper and scribbled again. This time, he slid it across the desk to you.

“WHY?”

You stared at the note for a moment before crumpling it up and tossing it back at him. “You know why,” you said, your voice quiet but firm.

For once, he didn’t have a quick retort. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his grin faltering ever so slightly as he watched you go back to your work.

But, true to form, he didn’t stay quiet for long. Moments later, another note landed on your desk.

“CAN I MAKE IT UP TO YOU?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t trust yourself to, not yet. And so, the silence between you stretched on, heavy and unresolved, while Dazai sat across from you, bored, frustrated, and—if the look in his eyes was any indication—just a little bit lost.

The silence between you two stretched unbearably as Dazai fidgeted with his pen, occasionally glancing at you, though you didn’t spare him a single look. Despite his antics, you were determined to hold your ground. He deserved to stew in this. To feel the weight of your anger and hurt.

Yet, as the minutes ticked by and the tension grew thicker, you found yourself caving. Not entirely, but enough for curiosity to override your stubbornness. With a sigh, you picked up your pen and scribbled something on a piece of paper, sliding it over to him without looking up.

“Did you mean it?”

Dazai, for once, didn’t respond immediately. You heard the faint rustle of the note as he picked it up, followed by a pause. Then, slowly, he scrawled something down and pushed it back toward you.

“Mean what?”

You stared at the words for a moment before writing again.

“That you want me to die with you?”

When you slid the note back, you refused to meet his gaze, your fingers gripping your pen tightly as you waited for his response. The air between you felt suffocating, heavy with the unspoken weight of the question.

It took him longer this time. You heard the soft scratching of his pen as he wrote, then paused, then wrote again. Finally, the note landed back in front of you.

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at the single word, simple and honest in a way Dazai rarely allowed himself to be. When you finally looked up at him, his expression was unreadable, his usual playful grin replaced by something quieter, something that almost looked like vulnerability.

“I wasn’t joking,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Not entirely, at least.”

Your throat felt dry, and you weren’t sure what to say. For all the times Dazai hid behind humor, behind his endless games and tricks, hearing him admit something so dark, so raw, left you momentarily at a loss.

“Why?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, though the motion felt forced, his usual air of nonchalance cracking at the edges. “Because if I had to go, at least with you… it wouldn’t feel so empty. It’d be poetic, don’t you think? Two kindred spirits, disappearing together.”

“That’s not poetic, Dazai,” you said firmly, anger creeping into your voice. “It’s selfish. It’s—” You stopped yourself, exhaling sharply. “It’s cruel that you would suggest that.”

His lips quirked up in a half-smile, but there was no humor behind it. “I told you, I’m a selfish man. You should know that by now.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you didn’t reply. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, the note still clutched tightly in your hand, as the weight of his words settled over you.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Dazai,” you began, folding the note neatly and placing it in front of him, “but unfortunately, I do not want to die. And I’d prefer it if you could refrain from doing so either.”

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor as you grabbed your bag. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

But before you could take a step, his hand shot out, quick and instinctive, his bandaged wrist wrapping firmly around yours. It wasn’t harsh or forceful, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks.

“What the hell?” you blurted, glancing down at his hand, then back at him.

For the first time since the conversation began, he looked genuinely caught off guard. His grip on your wrist wasn’t calculated; it was almost desperate, as though the very thought of you leaving—even temporarily—was unbearable.

“I… You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his tone lighter than his expression betrayed. But the crack in his voice, subtle as it was, didn’t escape you.

Your brow furrowed. “Dazai, I work here. I’m just going to the bathroom. I’m not running off into the sunset. Good god, you have issues.”

His lips curved into a faint smirk, but it lacked his usual humor. “Issues? That’s putting it lightly, don’t you think?” He released your wrist, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he let it drop back to his side. “I guess I just don’t like the idea of you walking away from me… even if it’s just to the restroom.”

“Dazai,” you sighed, softening your tone despite yourself, “I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through them before his usual mask slipped back into place. “Promise?” he asked, leaning back in his chair with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You gave him a flat look. “I’m not promising anything. It’s a bathroom break, not a grand betrayal.”

But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the weight of his touch—or the way his voice had faltered, even for just a second. Something about it lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind like an unanswered question you weren’t sure you were ready to ask.

A few hours later ~

The office was quiet now, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall and the rustling of papers as you gathered your things. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of a single desk lamp. You glanced over at him. His desk—still obnoxiously pressed against yours—was cluttered with papers he hadn’t touched all day. He’d sat there for hours, throwing the occasional quip your way, but you hadn’t said much in return.

It wasn’t just the silence that made the air feel heavy; it was the weight of his words from earlier. He wanted you to die with him. The thought lingered, intrusive and stubborn, no matter how much you tried to shove it aside. You couldn’t understand how he’d asked you something so selfishly, so casually, as if it were just another joke in his endless repertoire.

Shaking your head, you slid your bag over your shoulder and moved toward the door. You didn’t bother to say goodbye.

“Wait,” his voice called out, stopping you mid-step. You turned to find him standing now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he leaned against the edge of the desk.

“What is it, Dazai?” you asked, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

“Let me walk you home,” he said, straightening up and taking a step closer.

You blinked at him, the question catching you off guard. “Are you going to say some weird shit?”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile, though it lacked the usual cockiness. “You know, probably. I mean, it’s me.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were suddenly unsure of himself. “But… I won’t ask you to, you know, do that with me again. Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers in mock sincerity.

You narrowed your eyes, considering him for a moment. “Fine,” you said finally, letting out a small sigh. “But only if you promise.”

“Promise,” he repeated, a flicker of amusement returning to his voice.

As you pushed open the door and stepped into the cool night air, he fell into step beside you. Something about the way he kept just a half step behind, letting you set the pace, felt quieter than usual—almost careful. It wasn’t like him. Then again, nothing about today had been.

The street was quiet as you and Dazai walked down the path, the only sounds being the soft crunch of your footsteps against the pavement and the occasional rustling of leaves in the trees. The streetlamps above flickered on, casting a dim, golden light that illuminated the sidewalk in a soft, almost melancholic glow. The night air was cool, a refreshing change from the stuffy office, and you relished the brief quiet that came with the walk.

You didn't mind walking. You’d never been one to rely on a car, especially when the journey gave you a little peace of mind. Besides, the apartment was only about a 20-minute walk away, and you had plenty of time to clear your head. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

As you walked in silence, your thoughts wandered. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Dazai today. His words from earlier still echoed in your mind, but it wasn’t just that. Something about his behavior had felt off—a bit too distant, a bit too… real.

It was strange, but despite everything, you couldn't deny you had feelings for him. Not that you really had a choice, considering how often you saw each other. But you were realistic about it. The idea of him ever feeling the same was almost laughable. He was too much of a mess, too much of a broken puzzle for you to figure out. And even if he did have feelings for you, you weren’t sure it was something you could trust.

The walk continued in silence, and you pulled your coat tighter around you, keeping your thoughts to yourself. But then, without warning, Dazai held out his arm for you.

At first, you were confused. You didn't know what he meant by the gesture. But when he huffed, his voice edged with a hint of impatience, “Come on, I’m not going to bite you,” you could feel a wave of hesitation wash over you.

Before you could respond, he looped his arm through yours, locking it there with a firm but gentle grip. It surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. For a moment, you just walked, trying to process what had just happened.

As you did, your gaze slipped over to him. The soft glow of the streetlights caught his brown hair, highlighting the faint tousled mess of it. You’d always admired the way it looked, even when he didn’t seem to care much about it. You wondered, though, how much of his body was covered in bandages. His neck and wrist were always covered, but what about the rest of him? Did he hide it under those clothes, or was there more to it?

The thought made a knot form in your stomach, and you quickly shoved it away. You hated the idea of him harming himself. The thought made your chest tighten, and you didn’t want to think about it—not now, not here, not with him.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” Dazai’s voice broke the silence, his tone casual, though there was an edge to it.

You looked up at him, startled, but there was a strange softness in his expression that made you pause.

“Nothing,” you muttered, not wanting to admit to the tangled thoughts swirling in your head. “Just... you know, thinking about work.”

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Really?" he teased, but there was something more guarded in his eyes now. "Because you seem distracted."

You went quiet, your eyes shifting away from his, not wanting to meet his gaze anymore. The cool night air suddenly felt too heavy as the silence between you both stretched on.

Dazai noticed immediately, his pace slowing as he watched the subtle tension build. He didn’t push it at first, but after a few moments, he muttered, almost absentmindedly, “I hate how you don’t let me into your head.” His voice had a quiet frustration in it, like a gnawing irritation that wouldn't let go.

You stiffened, the words from earlier still replaying in your mind. You knew he wasn’t going to drop it, not without pushing the issue. You didn’t want to discuss it, but you couldn’t stay silent either. "Well, it’s kinda difficult to let someone in who has basically said in their own way they want me dead." You kept your voice steady, trying not to let the vulnerability slip through.

The words hung in the air, and Dazai didn’t immediately respond. His arm, still locked with yours, shifted slightly as if he were considering his words carefully.

Then, he spoke. "Y/N, my darling, you and I have two very different perspectives on death." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle between you. "To explain it in the simplest terms, despite how morbid it may seem to you... it is a compliment."

His tone was strange, detached, but also oddly earnest. It was as if he truly believed that what he was saying made sense. And for a moment, you wondered if he even understood how much his words stung.

You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, your steps slowing to match his. The city seemed farther away now, the night air colder.

"It doesn’t matter how you intended it, Dazai," you said, your voice firm but not unkind. "You are not well. The way you think… it’s all twisted."

Dazai let out a laugh, sharp and self-deprecating. "Oh, I’m very aware," he said with a smirk, though his eyes betrayed something softer, something less cavalier.

The rest of the walk passed in silence. He didn’t let go of your arm, keeping it interlocked with his, as though he feared letting go would shatter whatever fragile thing existed between you both. The city lights grew sparse as you reached your apartment building, and he walked you right up to your doorstep. Even then, his arm stayed linked with yours, his grip firm but not forceful, as if he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Dazai finally stopped, taking a deep breath. His hesitation was unusual, almost unsettling. "Can I ask you something?" he said, his voice softer than usual.

You sighed, fishing your keys out of your pocket. "I’m not going to say no, am I?"

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "When you say you care about me… do you mean it?"

You froze, caught off guard by the question. He wasn’t playing this time. There was no sly grin, no teasing inflection. His eyes, brown and deep as they were, searched yours with an almost childlike vulnerability.

"For someone as smart as you are, you’re being quite moronic right now," you said, your voice gentler than your words. His expression shifted slightly—confused, maybe even a little hurt. You softened, letting out a breath. "Of course I care about you, Dazai. I care about you a lot."

He blinked, processing your words, before making a quiet "Oh-ohh" sound, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the information. It was such a Dazai thing to do that it made you smile despite yourself.

Sliding your key into the lock, you turned it and pushed the door open. But before stepping inside, you hesitated. Something tugged at you, a feeling you couldn’t quite ignore.

"Oh, hell, screw it," you muttered under your breath before turning back around. Gently, you reached up and cupped his face, your fingers brushing against the bandages on his cheek. His eyes widened slightly as you leaned in, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his irises, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips.

When you pulled back, his expression was one of pure shock. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. You gave him a small smile, your hands still resting against his cheeks.

"Why don’t you think on that, Osamu Dazai," you said, your tone light but meaningful. Then, pulling away, you stepped inside and closed the door behind you with a quiet click.

For a long moment, Dazai stood there on your doorstep, the night air brushing against his face, his lips still tingling from the kiss. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile curved across his face—one that no one else would have recognized.

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sp0np · 4 months ago

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Drew myself into this uhhhh Fyodor x reader fic (damnatio memoriae by aamorpheous or smthg) it convinced me into liking fyodor and then i had a dream abt him errmmm🧌🧌🧌 he was so cute here 😕😕😕

#self insert oc #self insert x canon #bungou stray dogs #self insert #bsd self insert #bsd fanart #bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fanart #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd fanfic #fyodor x reader

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chocochipsushi · 2 months ago

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“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞?”

NSFW! minors do not interact! 18+ only!

2024 Chocochipsushi Kinktober - Day 4

⤷ Yukichi Fukuzawa as your boss

⤷ TW: Dom/sub, face slapping, office sex

⤷ WC: 1.4K

⤷ Short summary: It's after hours and your boss needs you.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“B-Boss—”

“Oh, fuck.”

Yukichi’s normally fierce eyes are on you, hazy and filled with lust. His grip tightens on your hips as he pounds into you harder.

He watches your tits bouncing at every slam of his hips, your teeth biting down so hard on your bottom lip that he sees tears in your eyes, your cheek pink from his slapping. You look so pretty like this, lying atop his paperwork, your arms coming together in an attempt to hide your body from your boss, unknowingly squeezing your tits together perfectly.

“Lower… ha… your voice, doll,” your boss grunts in a low voice. “They can hear you outside.”

Slapping your palm over your mouth and grasping at his wrist with your other hand, you bite down on your bottom lip to restrain any sound that may escape. Fukuzawa has his gaze trained on you, so intense that you felt your pussy clamping down on his hard cock. His unbound hand reaches up to brush his sweaty bangs back and you think he looks so handsome like this. Taking your hand away from your lips, you extend it in his direction.

“Kiss,” you whine like the little girl you always turn into whenever you’re with your boss.

He clicks his tongue. The very next moment, you have your breath knocked out of your chest when he lands a slap on your cheek, hard enough for it to sting but not painful enough to hurt, as usual. He knows your threshold now. When your senses come back to you, you realise that his movements are slow as he sheathes in and out of you at a leisurely pace, trying to catch his breath while enjoying your gummy walls rubbing against the ridges of his cock.

“Where are your manners, little one?” he berates.

“Kiss me, please,” you plead. He quirks an eyebrow and you immediately add, “Sir!”

With a palm on the table, he leans down slowly, giving you some time to appreciate the opening of his yukata drooping, allowing you to glimpse at his toned chest. The first touch of his lips on yours is gentle and soft. At the same time, he buries his dick to the hilt inside you, filling you up with his throbbing meat. He moans softly as he spreads his lips, now lining your bottom lip with his tongue. You place your hand on his nape, your fingers tangling with his silver hair.

He kisses you more fervently this time, his tongue slipping inside your mouth with a hungry desire to taste you. Your boss starts fucking you slowly, pulling out an inch before slamming back into you. You’re moaning into his mouth and this only makes Fukuzawa speed up his fucking. There’s just something about you and the cute sounds that you make that drive him ballistic.

You’re whimpering beneath him as your hips move in tandem with his fucking. Taking your hand off his wrist, this time you slide it under his Yukata, making the fabric fall off his shoulder slightly. This prompts your boss to break the kiss and lift himself up. You stare up at him, no longer the composed Yukichi Fukuzawa that everyone looks up to. His Yukata is falling off a shoulder, the ends of his bangs are clumped in sweat, and his face is flushed at the physical exertion. Your pussy flutters around his thick meat.

Yukichi lets out a shaky breath and swallows the rising feeling of affection in his chest. He tries not to have favourites but he can’t help how he feels when he sees you, always so small and cute and polite. Every time you’re in an empty room with him, the very same outcome is always bound to happen.

Cupping your breasts now with his big hands, he squeezes your bosoms experimentally. You lick your lips and bite down on the bottom one, your eyelids heavy with lust that Fukuzawa can’t stop himself anymore. He starts thrusting into you, slowly at first, just watching your bottom lip being bitten white as you clench around his cock. He toys your stiff nipples with his thumbs, just twirling and caressing. As he speeds up his pace, he entertains his impulse to slap your tits, causing you to gasp. His eyes sparkle at the sight of you with your thumb between your teeth now, trying to force yourself to be quiet as you let your boss have his way with your body.

“You like this, baby?” he grunts, breathless at how tight your grip on him is and how easily he’s sliding in and out of your sopping pussy.

You nod your head, looking so small and cute before him that he just wants to ruin you even more. Yukichi pinches your tits and follows that with another slap. Your core flutters around him again, pulsing tightly. He doesn’t stop fucking you as he alternates between squeezing and slapping your breasts, enjoying the little mewls and whimpers you make.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, doll face,” he moans, throwing his head back at the pleasure of your warm, wet pussy. He is the hardest he has ever been. “I’m gonna cum.” Your boss brings his gaze back to you, eyes shining with determination. “I’m gonna cum in you, baby.”

You bob your head, just letting him use your body however he likes. What you don’t expect is when he spits on your clit, a thin string of saliva still connected to his lips, as he glances up at you through his bangs. He slides a hand down your body and spreads the fluid around your peaked clit, enjoying how your body jolts at every swipe of his thumb.

Lifting your leg up to rest on his shoulder, he grips tightly on your thigh while his other hand plays with your sensitive pearl. Fukuzawa drills his cock into your throbbing pussy, so fast and hard that you’re sure the others can hear the slapping of your hips and the squelching of your wet cunt being abused from outside.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses at how tight you’re clenching around him.

He turns his head and bites down lightly on your thigh, sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. Your walls are so tight around him that he finds it hard to pull out every time he fucks you.

Kissing the spot he bit down on, Fukuzawa murmurs, “Gonna cum, little one?”

You immediately nod your head. Your boss is a chivalrous man. He always lets you cum first, which he does now as he assaults your clit and speeds up his hard pounding. Paired with his whiskery kisses and light bites on your thigh, you gush around his cock, clamping down so hard on him that his fingers digs into your flesh. The strangled moans and whimpers coming out of you are really what he needs to hear. Because all it takes is one hard slam into your pulsing cunt before he releases his seeds into you, filling you up with his cum.

You’re still twitching on his desk when Fukuzawa’s mind is cleared from the orgasmic pleasure. He thinks that post-nut clarity has to be a myth because he has never seen anything or anyone more beautiful or cuter than you writhing beneath him, your eyes shut tightly, your cheeks red from his slapping and the passion from the sex, your thumb completely in your mouth to muffle your cries.

Yukichi doesn’t stop himself when he leans down and takes your thumb away from your mouth, replacing it with his lips. You curl your limbs around him, always so needy for him. Your pussy reflexively makes one last clench around his deflating cock, causing him to moan quietly into the kiss. When he pulls back, he cups the side of your head and brushes the tendrils of your hair back with his thumb. His eyes flicker about your features for a second, so gentle and so affectionate that your heart stutters in your chest.

“Do you have to go back to work yet?”

You shake your head at your boss’ question. He nods and immediately gathers you in his arms, carrying you to sit on his lap as he settles down on his office chair, your sexes still connected. He places a hand on the back of your head and brings you closer. Choosing the shoulder that is exposed by his yukata, you rest your cheek on his skin, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

Yukichi Fukuzawa really tries very hard not to show favouritism towards his employees but God, he thinks he loves you.

#bsd fic #bsd smut #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs #bsd fukuzawa #fukuzawa x reader #fukuzawa yukichi #bungo stray dogs fukuzawa #president fukuzawa #fukuzawa smut #fukuzawa x oc #fukuzawa x you #fukuzawa x y/n #fukuzawa bsd

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lumiraette · 2 months ago

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When he's VERY pretty with little makeup>>

#lumieatsart #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #bsd art #bsd ayatsuji #bsd gaiden #yukito ayatsuji #bsd x oc #bsd x female reader #bsd x you #bsd x reader #ayatsuji yukito x reader #ayatsuji x reader #bsd ayatsuji x reader

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yuyinesque · 7 months ago

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everyone stfu rn — imagine hispanic!reader or spanish-speaking!reader referring chuuya as… besito? b… because the “chu” sound? is the sound of a kiss in japanese? and beso is kiss in spanish? a-and “ito” at the end of most spanish words (amorcito, hermanito, putita, etc.) concludes that the noun is small? a-and he’s like 5’3…? and… and y’all are dating and and and and it’s just sooooo embarrassing!!!! especially when you do it around his subordinates!!!! exasperated, covered in crimson kisses and spanish adulates, roseate cheeks, smoke from the ears, promising to kill you after they leave, smooching him more… he’s mortified and it’s great!!!!! LET ME COOK!!!!!

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ishzuprincess · 2 months ago

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I drew this to get through my art block lol, tysm @littlexchara for the suggestion ✨💖

I really needed it lol

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myluckymoon · 2 months ago

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The mastlist of single and up for shipping characters

Caroline ( bi ) @runwhileyoustillareableto

Sachiko (bi or pan) @soitisraining

Asahi ( bi) @comenoworstaybehind

Bruce (pan or bi) @nohopeforyounow

Cythen ( gay, and he is in Paris) @arey0ul0st

Jason (gay) @preparefordoublethetrouble

Both brothers ( pan or bi) @dontworryiwontbite

Most of the Japanese military ( minus nobutoshi, Cassy, frost bite and Raphael) @canyoustopstaringalready

Butcher gay @howhungrycanyoube

Both of them @howboldofyoutofollowus

Most of the light of humanity minus ruzenel and ladocial @tothelightwego

And both of my yosano's

( regular @thiswillonlyhurtasmidge )

( genderbent @areyoustareingagain )

All of them are up for shipping!

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd oc #moon speaks🌙#bungou stray dogs #oc x canon #bsd ocs #bsd oc rp #bsd rp oc #bsd oc blog #bsd rp blog #bsd roleplay #bsd rp

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with-my-calamitous-love · 3 months ago

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KISS ME IN A WAY THATS GONNA SCREW ME UP FOREVER

rockstar! chuuya nakahara x pop star! reader

after acting in a music video of his right after a breakup, the media has many speculations about you two.

part 1/3

inspired by suburban legends

once the flight had flown, your feet touched down on the new, big city. it was a kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats, hidden underneath the fabric of fashion trends of large coats. the world in this corner smelled like want.

you weaved your way through the crowd before finally reaching the studio. you open the door, unpack your things with a hug and kiss to your manager, before finally seeing him.

chuuya nakahara was perhaps the most famous man in the world right now. a deep, gravelly voice with hands that slid across his guitar like skates on ice. he was the living, breathing definition of the word heartthrob.

right now, he’s tuning his guitar, his messy orange hair tied into a cute messy bun. he’s concentrated, the fabric of his black muscle shirt clinging to his obviously well toned muscles. you know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. and its not even just because he’s famous and talented.

you had been making a name for yourself in the music industry. slowly but surely, the name [Y/N] [L/N], the world’s new pop princess! had been making headlines. the general public considered you a sweetheart, with your fresh-faced beauty and edge paving the way for new found fame. the paparazzi adored your voice and your lyrics. you had only begun your receive the recognition you deserve.

upon winning best new artist at the vma’s, your song feather garnered billions of listeners. but perhaps the most shocking of them all, was gaining the attention of the one and only chuuya nakahara.

and thats how you ended up here. standing face to face with the embodiment of every women’s dream man.

“hey, [y/n].” he greets you, his sultry voice breaking through the mist of your fantastical mind. you snap out of it with an awkward laugh and a firm (but surely sweaty) handshake. he brushes it off, giving you a wink and thanking you for coming all this way.

“i love your studio.” you manage to compliment the rockstar despite your winded state. he hums a thank you, walking you towards the stage. his team works diligently, and you swear you can feel all his gratitude towards them. everyone in first name, high fave and shitty joke basis with each other. it was hard not to feel like an outsider.

“i don’t know if michizou gave you the run down on the video.. which he should have!” chuuya playfully jabs at his producer and good friend, who was currently fixing up the stage lights and blowing fat raspberries back at his boss. “basically, its for my new single. you’ll be playing my girlfriend.”

you wish you could hide the embarrassing scarlet tinge that blooms onto your cheeks at the mention of girlfriend. he seems so nonchalant, so casual about being so intimate.

once he’s distracted, your whisked away by a beautiful girl with a short black bob. her butterfly clip hung loosely just beside her bangs. she was the one person here who didn’t make you feel like a complete stranger on the outside looking in.

“hi, [y/n]! i’m yosano, i’ll just be doing your makeup.” she hums, and you happily take refuge in her cozy dressing room. the two of you hit it off almost immediately, allowing you to get your nerves out. however, something comes up that throws you off your game.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

“oh and.. i guess, someone should tell you, honey.” she says, making your eyeliner as sharp as humanly possible. “chuuya’s been… he’s having a hard time. a bad breakup.”

this information churns in your stomach. “how long ago..?”

“3 weeks ago, give or take.” yosano explains, applying the setting powder. on one hand, you were thankful someone had warned you. but on the other, it made you nervous that you would be playing a romantic partner to someone who had just gotten their heart broken.

“why did they break up?” you ask, cautiously looking over at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were hiding your anxiety well enough.

“i don’t know… the rockstar over there never really talked about it.” yosano huffs, sitting on the counter to get a better angle at applying your lip liner. “all i know is… he hates betrayal more than anything now.”

a million thoughts run through your head. who? when? why? but most of all, who in their right mind would cheat on chuuya nakahara?

but you lost all the time for your nervousness. next thing you know, yosano is rushing you onto the set with words of encouragement. there, you meet chuuya, who’s been waiting for you.

the first scene is simple. just two people dancing in the living room set.

he walks over to you, placing his hands on your hips like its second nature. he chuckles at your nervousness, the way you tense up as you instinctively place your hands on his chest.

“what? don’t know how to dance, doll?” he teases, that shit-eating smirk on his face.

“uhm… no.” you admit, sheepishly.

he looks surprised, before a genuine smile reappears on his face again. “thats okay, just follow my lead.”

and with that, you two start swaying. he takes the lead, using his body to direct your movements. and for the first time in your career, maybe ever, you actually feel comfortable. you gain your fluidity back, dancing with chuuya in a way that words couldn’t explain. like two figures in a snow globe, you acted out a miniature expression of love thaf spoke volumes.

the rest of the filming process goes on smoothly, your favourite of the bunch being the kitchen scene. chuuya washes dishes while you snuggle up to him from behind, the overflowing of the sink being unscripted but ultimately charming enough to keep in.

finally, it was the scene you were most nervous about. the infamous kiss scene, and the segment yosano had failed to warn you about.

“i’ll say this again.” chuuya says, his voice in a hush tone. “i am not gonna make you this, doll.”

you’re nervous to kiss him, but the thought of turning him down felt like a complete loss.

so you bite your lip, and give chuuya the greenlight.

“three…two…one… ACTION!”

the camera pans in a circle around the two of you, capturing every small detail. the moment he cups your face, the moment you lock eyes… before finally, you two kiss.

and its the kind of kiss that saves you and that screws you up forever. that day, chuuya nakahara kissed you like the most gorgeous rose you had ever hoped to pick, with a million thorns sticking out from the side.

it was as though just front that simple contact, you knew the kind of guy he was. a gentleman, a man polite too a fault. time seems to stop even as you two pull away. you honestly consider breaking your own heart so you can move on from the love of your life (aka the famous man you met just a few hours ago.)

“thats a wrap!” tachihara announces as the team celebrates. this song, though you hadn’t heard it yet, was sure to be a hit. and chuuya assures that the music video will bring so much of the spotlight you deserve.

after that, the team breaks with some cake and beer. you, however, sneak off to the balcony, getting some much needed fresh air. you’re almost granted the moment of peace you craved when suddenly, someone addresses you.

“hey pop star.” chuuya says, walking up behind you and offering you a beer. when you politely accept, he stares out at the city-scanning sunset. finally, you two were alone, away from the editors and cameras.

you ask whats been on your mind since the beginning.

“…what song was this for again?” you nervously ask.

chuuya lets out a hearty laugh, enamoured by your sincerity. he digresses, opting to take you to the rooftop instead. there, he picks up his guitar and begins playing a few notes. it seemed like such a douchebag move, but if it was, you loved douchebags.

“can i tell you a secret?” he asks, strumming the acoustic strings with calculated talent. you nod, fiddling with your fingers.

“..i don’t really have a title for it yet.” he chuckles. now its your turn to laugh at him, and he takes it.

“why’s that, rockstar?” you ask, sipping your beer.

chuuya ponders for a moment, his eyes never leaving his guitar. he shrugs, continuing to serenade you. a thought crosses your mind.

“why’d you choose me, anyway?”

though he can’t think of a song title, he seems to know the answer to that question.

“cause you’ve got edge, and talent.” he says. “the industries gonna want to ruin you. you can’t let that happen, alright?”

you nod apprehensively. you’ve heard the whispers, how female stars were held up to a higher standard. how one wrong move, one hair out of place, or one breath too loud could cost you your career. hearing it from an established star made your hands shake.

maybe this would screw you up forever.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

[chuuyaheartz]: new MV is out!! starring [y/n] [l/n]

[soukkvo]: pov me replaying the kiss scene:

[lovechna]: idk who i’d wanna be more 😍😍

[asagir1]: wait wtf he like just broke up with higuchi… don’t you think its a little soon??

[chzai09]: they’re my roman empire

new star [Y/N] [L/N] kisses chuuya nakahara and new music video!

who is [Y/N] [L/N]? meet the new pop princess:

[Y/N] [L/N] is chuuya’s new girlfriend? heres whats happening:

#[Y/N] [L/N] trending

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