#port Mafia exchange

[tulipe-rose]

(Asking this to your writing blog bc this is a theory)

so, this might not make sense, but I was thinking about the port mafia transfer.

Asagiri probably wants to surprise us all, and choose someone no one expected. And that had me thinking.

Who is someone no one is really expecting? A lot of people think it’ll be Dazai, or Tanizaki, or Ranpo.

But what are the chances Fukuzawa himself gets chosen? He’s their leader, and therefore part of the detective agency.

Without their leader, the agency very well may fall apart, and would become weak and vulnerable.

Sure, Kunikida would step up to take the leadership role if that were to happen, but if Fukuzawa is no longer in the agency, Kyouka and Atsushi and maybe other would lose ALL control over their ability.

And what is something that Mori could gain from Fukuzawa’s ability?

It could make it so Chuuya could control corruption. And they wouldn’t exactly need Dazai anymore for their best offensive strategy to be put into place

that’s all I can think of at the moment, this probably isn’t very well thought out, but I wanted to share :3

MON DIEU???

Kim you are a genius. This is such a Mōri move, he definitely would. The agreement only ruled out Yosano from the exchange, so that means that Fukuzawa is indeed an option. An unexpected one, but an option nevertheless. Imagine Mōri never giving Fukuzawa missions, because he knows Fukuzawa doesn't want to be an assassin anymore, and he wouldn't risk his cooperation; the only thing Mōri needs is to have Fukuzawa be a Mafioso in name only.

Kunikida isn't ready yet to be president, and the entirety of the agency would fall into chaos. Even Rampo would be shaken to his core; that's his father boss we're talking about. Yosano would have her hatred for Mōri increase tenfold, and with how big of an impact this might cause on everyone, Katai might re-join the agency to support Kunikida at his lowest.

I am so excited, and in love with this theory you don't even know Kim–

I can't go into full meta mode thought because of my exam tomorrow, but just know this: I'm absolutely rooting for this theory to happen.

Tysm for dropping this in my inbox I'm genuinely so mind blown Ily/p 🥹

[smellypire]

in theory, kenji in the pm would be interesting but i never to want to see that happen in practice ever.

but if you think of it, he definetally isn't fit for the mafia. he's too kindhearted, his blood is red not mafia black. similar to higuchi and chuuya isn't fit, he most definetally isn't fit for it.

but in terms of assets, he could be a big weapon and asset for the mafia that mori would love to have in his ranks if possible, along with the fact that kenji is easy to manipulate. his strong ability is impeccable and can even rival chuuya's corruption in terms of destruction and physical strength, mori isn't against picking children for his recruits all on their abilties and smartness.

would I think it'll ever happen in canon? not likely, but it's very interesting to think about (and there is a possablity in it as well)

a lot of people are thinking about dazai and tanizaki in terms of who will be traded in exchange for the PM and ADA deal but no one talks about the potentional of kenji being exchanged.

[tamatar0]

Everyone is worried that Dazai will be chosen for the PM exchange, but hear me out, guys. What if Fukuzawa is the one who joins PM? What if he sacrifices himself for ADA?Firstly, I found it really weird and out of character that he accepted that exchange thing because he really cares about all the ADA members. So why would he accept a condition like that? Regarding Dazai, I think it's unlikely that Fukuzawa would have him exchanged to PM that easily because he knows how hard it is to leave the world of darkness, and Dazai is trying his best to become a good person. Fukuzawa knows that and cares about Dazai as much as he cares about the other members. So I don't think he'll push him back into the darkness like that. As for the other members, Kenji and Tanizaki (even though he said he doesn't mind getting exchanged to PM in season 4) are unlikely because they are still kids. Kyouka is out of the question, he denied giving Yosano to PM, Atsushi (even though it would be a good plot twist) is still unlikely, and the same goes for Ranpo and Kunikida. None of them have killed someone before, but Fukuzawa was a well-known and fully trained assassin (which would also save the time and resources required to train the new member) and could be a great asset for PM. They also said that Kunikida is the closest to becoming a successor for Fukuzawa if anything happens to him, which might be foreshadowing. And most importantly, Fukuzawa is a father figure to the ADA members, and Asagiri hates father figures😭😭😭😭 Well we never know what mori is thinking so anything can happen. But I really think that it'll be Fukuzawa.

[hannigramislife]

"I need your help to save this world, the Detective Agency, and Atsushi"

Every single day of his miserable life, Dazai Osamu wakes up and decides to have nothing but the goddamn audacity—

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WANNA GET HIM BACK!

FEATURING: nakahara chuuya

SUMMARY: after an argument with your boyfriend and two weeks of no contact, you finally decide to make your first move by stirring up trouble at one of his bars. it can't possibly be that bad of an idea, right? you just want him back, and maybe get a little revenge while you're at it.

(wordcount: 3.6k; ņsfw; fem!reader; m!receiving oral; chuuya gets a bit violent but not with reader; jealous!chuuya; pet names "doll", "baby"; reader is a shit stirrer!!; maybe some implications of toxicity but up to interpretation. lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: eheheh

You knew the moment you stepped into the bar that you were going to be playing with fire tonight. The lights are dim and the music is low, setting a type of intimate ambience that has your head dangerously dizzy even without alcohol. It’s been weeks since you last set foot in the establishment, but all of the regulars still recognize you, giving you a wide berth and casting you suspicious looks as they whisper amongst each other. You know that by now, Chuuya would know you’re here, informed by one of his many subordinates currently keeping an eye on you from the corners of his bar—it’s only a matter of time before he finally shows up. 

Most of the patrons know better than to entertain you, so you’re forced to seek out the outsiders who are blissfully unaware of your connection to the infamous Port Mafia executive who owns the bar. Your options are limited—two men that are twice your age who seem to be foreigners, a man closer to your age but with such a twisted and uptight expression that you think you might prefer one of the older men, and another man who’s also around your age, his eyes are a bit too sharp and calculating for your liking and he’s playing with something in his pocket, but you eventually decide on him, if only because all of the other options are subpar in comparison. 

You rest your chin on your hand, elbow propped on the bar as you look up at the man through your lashes, lips curled up in a sultry smile as you listen to him drone on about his business back in Tokyo. You watch him stammer over his words every time he glances down and his eyes meet yours, unable to stop himself as his eyes dip down to trace your collarbones and then further. 

Each time his gaze dips down, you feel even more riddled with anticipation, and you'd feel sorry for the unlucky man, knowing you're just using him to piss off your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, currently, you remind yourself—but you think maybe he shouldn't be so unsubtle about being a lecher. Your thoughts drift off to Chuuya as you mildly entertain the man's conversation. It's been two weeks since the argument that led to your break up. You're not even really sure how the argument began, and you don't even remember who broke up with who, all you know is that violent words were exchanged by the both of you until Chuuya ended up storming out. You've been staying with one of your friends since then, and he has tried to get in contact with you since the argument, but it took him nearly a week to call and text you, and you think he deserves to wait just as long to hear from you as you had to wait to hear from him. And it's been a week now, and you miss him, so you think it's about time to get him back—but who are you to ever make anything easy for him?

Poor guy, you think to yourself, watching absently as he babbles on about some thing or another. For this to happen the first time he sees you in almost a month? Chuuya's temper is going to be volcanic, and the oblivious man is front of you is going to be caught right in the crossfire of it. You hate the way it lights up your nerves, you know you shouldn’t be giddy over making him mad, but you can just picture his expression already, you can feel the way his blunt nails dig into your skin. 

You see the bartender step away to pour a familiar glass of wine without request, and your smile widens just a bit, knowing that Chuuya is almost here. The man you’re talking to—you can’t even recall his name –takes your smile as a sign that you’re enjoying his company, and you keep up the charade, absently giggling at whatever he said and letting your hand fall on top of the bar, brushing his. 

You don’t even really know what he’s saying, you don’t care to know, honestly, but he doesn’t seem to notice your lack of interest—or maybe he also doesn’t care, just hoping to get a quick fuck out of the night. Your eyes keep flickering behind him to the door, waiting for the imminent arrival of Nakahara Chuuya, and you’re pleased because you don’t have to wait long before the door is opened roughly and said executive is standing in the doorframe, presence commanding the attention of almost every single person in the establishment. 

Almost. The exception being the man sitting in front of you.

Chuuya is taking a drag from a cigarette as he steps into the bar and you know that his reaction is going to be even worse than you initially thought because he only ever smokes when he’s already aggravated. Your tongue scrapes against your teeth as his eyes meet yours, dark and promising as he takes in the scene in front of him, realizing what’s going on. 

You smile distantly before returning your attention back to your dark-haired companion, catching the tail end of his sentence, “... resort in Kyoto.” 

“Oh? Kyoto? I’ve always wanted to visit—never got the chance,” you say, but it’s hard to focus on him as Chuuya purposefully sits a few seats behind him, making sure to stay in your field of vision as he watches the two of you, waiting to see how far you would take this. 

“I’ll bring you,” the man promises. 

You can’t help but notice as he shifts, his hand reaches out to try to brush your thigh. You’re able to move subtly enough for him to miss, and you hope that he takes the hint, but you withhold a grimace when he goes for a second attempt—this time you’re unable to get out of the way in time, feeling the pads of his fingers brush your outer thigh before resting firmly on your knee, sliding up just a bit.

Chuuya’s eyes zero in on where the man has made contact with you, but you only give the man another lazy smile, watching as his pupils dilate and his gaze tracks down your chest once more. 

The end of your game is approaching—the man has evidently tired of small talk and wants to take this somewhere private, and you aren’t going to take it any further, of course. But more than that, you know that Chuuya isn’t going to let this last much longer, as irritated as he already is on top of having to watch the man feel up your thigh, you can see the way his body is tense and how his gaze promises violence as it pierces into the back of your unsuspecting companion’s head.

Chuuya looks down at the bar and idly picks up a corkscrew laying on the wood where the bartender had left it next to his favorite bottle of wine. You watch curiously as he lazily twirls it around his gloved fingers, your eyes dragging along each of the lithe digits almost longingly because it’s been far too long since you’ve felt them against your skin and you miss his touch desperately. 

Your eyes widen just a bit when a familiar red aura coats the corkscrew and in a split second, it’s flying from his grasp and driving through the hand of the man, who had lifted his other hand to reach out to cup your cheek. The bar goes silent and you swallow thickly as you feel a few splatters of the warm, red liquid against your face; the man stares at his hand in abject horror, shock preventing the pain from taking hold. 

Your gaze darts back to Chuuya, who still hasn’t moved from where he’s lounging on the barstool, expression eerily empty as he tilts his head back and exhales a long stream of smoke before putting out the cigarette on the bartop and sitting up straight. That, evidently, is a signal because almost instantly one of Chuuya’s subordinates rips the man from his seat and manhandles him to his knees in front of him, ignoring his loud protests.

The man quiets down as he looks up at an unimpressed Chuuya, trying to figure out what’s going on. “What-”

“You’re lucky I didn’t take your whole hand for touching what’s mine, you fuckin’ mutt,” Chuuya says lazily, eyes dragging back up to you as if to ask: is this what you wanted? 

You forget, sometimes, that through all of the gentle touches and adoring words that Nakahara Chuuya casts your way, that he’s still a mafioso with a list of crimes so long that if the feds ever got their hands on him, he’d never see the light of day again. Heat pools in your lower stomach, lips parting; you don't know what Chuuya sees in your expression but it has the corner of his lip curling up into a slow smirk.

“What?” the man gasps, looking between you and Chuuya, fury and incredulity painted on his face. “That bitch came up to me, you can’t possibly-”

Chuuya’s eyes cut back to the man, leg shooting out so quickly that it’s nearly a blur to your eyes as the tip of his boot cracks against the underside of the man’s jaw. He would’ve gone sprawling were it not for the grip his subordinate had on him, holding him still as his head hangs and blood spills from his lips.

“What’d you just call her?” he asks, voice low and dangerous, and you think that the was your thighs instinctively press together is kind of fucked up, but how are you not supposed to be turned on by Chuuya calling you his and defending your name even when you know he’s pissed at you? “Say it again.”

He doesn’t—he can’t, actually, because you think he’s unconscious, and Chuuya clearly realizes it too because he lets out a noise that’s nothing short of disgusted as he looks up to the door and nods his head. 

Immediately, a familiar black tendril shoots out to wrap around the man’s waist and drag him out of the bar. You follow it to where Akutagawa is standing, expression stiff as ever as he turns to leave with the man. 

Well, you think to yourself, that's a painful death on your hands. 

You watch as all of the other occupants of the bar begin to funnel out after Akutagawa and dread pools in your stomach as you realize that they’re going to leave you with Chuuya. You’re half tempted to make your escape with them, but one glance at Chuuya’s face and you know if you do that, it’ll be a mistake. 

“C’mere,” Chuuya says to you as soon as the last person leaves the bar, leaving the two of you alone. His voice is deceptively soft, but his eyes are burning. You don’t move at first, so he says again: “C’mon, doll, I don’t bite.” 

You let out a breath, rising to your feet and numbly making your way over to him until you’re standing directly in front of him, between his spread legs. He doesn’t speak at first, eyes studying your face, and you can barely stand to look him in the eye but you force yourself to, no matter how fast your heart was racing in your chest. 

Chuuya’s touch is gentle as he reaches out, gloved knuckles grazing your cheek to wipe off the droplets of blood before his thumb presses against your bottom lip. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, lips parting for him—he pushes the tip of his thumb into your mouth, the earthy taste of the leather seeping onto your tongue, lashes fluttering. “You’re gonna come into my bar, to get my attention, while you drape yourself all over another man? I knew you were up to no good when I heard you were here, but this was bold even for you, baby.”

“I-” you begin, but Chuuya clicks his tongue, cutting you off and pointedly glancing down to the floor. You know what he wants, and you hate the way your body heats up as you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, eye-level with his crotch. You look up at him through your lashes. “I was just playing, you know I wasn’t gonna actually do anything-” 

“Yeah?” Chuuya asks, eyes mirthful as he looks down at you. “Why do you gotta make things so difficult for me, doll? Couldn’t have just answered my texts? Had to make a scene about it, make me lose my temper in front of my subordinates?”

You nuzzle your face into his expensive black slacks, hiding the smile that starts to tug at your lips. “I’m sorry?” you offer, not really sorry at all and he knows it.

You feel Chuuya’s gloved fingers grab your chin, tilting your face up, eyes flashing in amusement when he sees the very much unapologetic expression on your face. 

“Prove it.”

You don’t even waste a second, hands darting up to fumble with his belt. He doesn’t help you, a rare glimmer of cruelty in his bicolored eyes as he watches you struggle. He only tilts his hips up when you finally manage to undo his belt so you can yank down his pants, freeing his cock from its confines. You press your lips to his inner thigh, teeth grazing his skin, listening as Chuuya lets out a soft sigh when you lift your hand to wrap around his half-hard cock. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs when you slowly glide your hand over his cock, thumb pressing down lightly on his slit, just the way he likes it. You can feel his cock hardening in your hand, the weight familiar and comforting as you suck bruises into the pale skin of his inner thigh. “Just like that, doll.”

You hum against him, lashes fluttering when you feel his lithe fingers intertwining with your hair, blunt nails scraping your scalp. His thighs tense when you squeeze the base of his cock gently, smiling before kissing back up his thigh to press your lips to his tip. His breath hitches as your tongue darts out to swipe his slit, lapping up the beading precum.

“Missed the way you taste,” you breathe out against him, tilting your head to the side to lay messy, open mouthed kisses against his length, sucking gently at the vein on the underside of his cock. 

“Could’ve been doing this for a week.” Chuuya has the nerve to sound disappointed with you, so you make sure he can feel the way you pout against his cock. “Don’t go making that face, doll. This didn’t have to be drawn out so long, you know it.”

“I’m stubborn.” You sulk as you look up at him, but before he can respond, you make sure to finally wrap your lips firmly around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it. 

He chokes over a low groan, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You watch as his throat bobs as he tries to steady his breathing, grip on your hair tightening. You wonder if he’s going to push you down so that your lips are flush to his pelvis but he refrains. 

“Yeah, you are,” he exhales softly. “Too stubborn, baby. Love you for it, though.”

You let out a pleased hum around him, sliding your lips down the length of his cock until his tip is pushing against the back of your throat. It’s a bit uncomfortable, it takes all of your willpower to not gag around him as tears begin to pool in your eyes. 

“Been thinking about you all week.” His breathy voice grounds you as your lashes become wet and heavy, teardrops hanging off them as you swallow around him just so you can hear the way his voice falters. You force yourself to take him deeper, ignoring the burn of the stretch as your throat spasms around him. “Been dying to feel you cum on my tongue again, craving the taste of you. Tried to fuck my fist but it’s not as good as you, could barely make myself cum. You spoil me too much, doll, makin’ me dependent on you like this.” 

You brace your hands on his thighs as you push yourself up a bit more to take him at a better angle, mind a bit fuzzy as he slides down your throat all the way. Chuuya lets out a moan of your name, pitched and shaky as it always gets whenever you take him all the way, the base of his cock sensitive to the way you purposely graze your teeth against the skin. You think you could suffocate right now, and you’d die happy with the sound of him moaning like that ringing through your head—you don’t think he’d be so happy about that though, so you make sure to breathe as best as you can through your nose. 

“Called you last night, y’know,” Chuuya says, voice wavering over another moan as your lips glide up and down his cock. You suck hard on his tip, reveling in the way his hips jerk and thighs tremble. “Was tryna get myself off. Couldn’t. Just needed to hear your voice once, should’ve picked up for me.”

Oh, you think to yourself—you remember the call, you’d let it go to voicemail because you figured he’d been out drinking and you wanted him to leave you another message in your inbox. Your nails dig crescents into his thighs when you realize what you’d missed out on, picturing him laying back in his massive bed—too big and too lonely for just one person—fisting his cock with one hand and twisting the silk black sheets with his other, hair matted to his forehead, sweat beading at his skin, lips bitten raw in frustration and phone resting on his chest as he fucks his hand, praying that you pick up.

You curse yourself, wishing that you hadn’t been so damn obstinate, bobbing your head a bit faster as an apology. Chuuya lets out a sharp hiss, head falling forward so he can watch you raptly as your tongue teases his slit again before swirling around his cock. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, and his words shoot right to your core, heat spreading through you like a wildfire. “So damn beautiful, could look at you forever. Make me so fucking mad at you sometimes, but how am I supposed to stay mad when you look like this, huh?”

You let out a soft keen at the praise, and he must feel it, considering how his breath hitches and his thighs tighten again beneath your fingers. You think you can get drunk off of the taste of him, high off of the sound of his voice; you think that Nakahara Chuuya is like a drug that you’ll never be able to get clean of, and you don’t know why you tortured yourself by depriving yourself of him for an extra week.

“Y’take me so well, doll,” he continues, panting as his fingers twist in your hair and his hips jerk upward again, pushing himself impossibly deeper down your throat. Only sheer determination stops you from gagging again, fat tears rolling down your cheeks that he promptly wipes away, his touch gentle as always even when he’s nearly fucking your face. “It’s like you’re made for me, yeah? You made for me, baby?” 

You try to hum in agreement around him but you’re not sure if it translates.

It does, evidently, if the obscene moan that escapes his lips has anything to say about it. “Yeah, you are,” he agrees breathlessly. “Shit, I’m so close, just like that, keep-”

His voice cracks over another groan, lashes fluttering as a positively wrecked expression crosses over his face when you flatten your tongue along the underside of his cock, right up against the sensitive vein. His grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place, and the only warning you get is a borderline incoherent babble before his hips rock up and your nose is pressed against his pelvis. 

You can’t breathe, you can hardly think, all you can focus on is making sure you don’t choke on the cum spilling into your mouth, warm and sticky and so much of it that it’s dribbling out of the corner of your lip and over your chin. Your lungs burn so badly that you think you might die, and your head feels fuzzy and faint. 

You wonder if you’re about to pass out.

But you don’t pass out. Right when your vision begins to go spotty and you really think you’re done for, he loosens his grip so that you can pull off of him. Chuuya hardly wastes a second before he’s hauling you to your feet and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is hot and messy—you’d barely even swallowed all of his cum before he was pulling you up and you still don’t have enough air in your lungs, but his hand caresses your face so softly that you can’t even bring yourself to care. You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, lips moving slowly against one another as his tongue gently traces the inside of your mouth, tasting himself on you, but when you finally break apart from one another, your breath is nearly as shaky as your fingers, instinctively chasing after his lips to steal one last chaste kiss.

“Did I prove it?” you finally ask with a teasing smile, tongue darting out to lap up the remaining mixture of cum and saliva pooling at the corner of your lip as you look up at him through your lashes, leaning your cheek into his touch.

“Undecided,” Chuuya finally tells you, hand sliding from your cheek so he can reach out to trace his index finger on your bottom lip. You capture the gloved digit between your lips, sucking on it gently. “Guess I’ll just have to take you home so you can try again, doll.” 

[dietcokegirly12]

“Dares”

featuring soukuku the sillies (∩^-ڡ-^∩)

꒰ ─ ｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡ ┈ ｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡ ─ ｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡ ┈ ꒱

art credit: @spirthx on pinterest

꒰ ─ ｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡ ┈ ｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡ ─ ｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡ ┈ ꒱

tags: drinking, lap dance, teasing, threesome (kinda?), fingering, etc etc

word count: 2.4k

KINKTOBER OCT. 25 ～(へ^^)へ

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧

“Fucking can’t believe Mori made us do that.” One of your partners, Chuuya takes a long swallow of his drink, the burgundy wine rapidly disappearing from the cup as it slides down his throat.

Dazai scoffs slightly, lifting a glass to his lips as well. “Idiot, you barely did anything.”

He instantly turns, outraged. “Huh? What do you mean, shithead? You’re the one who just stood until the very end when I needed your No Longer Human ability!”

“Guys.” you sigh, already exasperated and tired from a long day on a mission for the Port Mafia with your two moron partners. “Let’s just have a few drinks in peace, without fighting.”

Chuuya glares over to where Dazai tauntingly sips his drink, an insufferable smirk etched across his face.

“Okay..” he finally grumbles, settling back into his seat.

“Let’s play a drinking game!” Dazai suddenly says, grinning mischievously as his gaze slides over to you.

"Drinking game?" you say dubiously, taking another drink.

"Where are you gonna get cards, doofus?" Chuuya shakes his head in disbelief at Dazai's vulgar tendencies.

"Don't need them." He has a certain look in his eye that, after working with him for so long, you knew meant trouble.

Chuuya studies him for a long moment, then with a sigh, leans back, his throat bobbing as he takes a long, contemplative drink. "Enlighten us." he finally says.

Dazai grins in victory, your hesitant expressions the first sign that you're going to give in to him. "Someone gives a dare, and if you're not willing to do it, you have to take a shot."

Chuuya tilts his head, seeming to mull it over. "Simple enough. I'm in." He glances over to where you're staring disdainfully at the two men.

"I guess I'll play."

At Dazai's triumphant expression, your expression narrows. "You two perverts better not turn this into anything overly dirty."

Chuuya, ever the gentleman, nods immediately. "Of course."

Dazai simply laughs, beginning to fill the shot glasses for each of you.

After pouring a generous amount into each, he sits back, clearly excited at the prospects laying ahead. "I'll start!" he says eagerly, and you and Chuuya exchange loaded looks, turning back to the man in front of you.

"Chuuyaa~" Dazai sing-songs, causing the ginger's eye to twitch in irritation. "Do a suggestive dance or take a shot."

"What the hell, man!" Chuuya practically snarls, reaching for the shot glass and downing it in an instant.

Dazai simply smirks, almost twirling his hair with giddiness. "Knew it. You're gonna be so drunk by the end of this, you won't even be able to walk straight."

You roll your eyes at their banter, starting to get annoyed. “Dazai. Kiss Chuuya or take a shot.”

Delighted, he turns to face Chuuya, beginning to lean in, before Chuuya slaps him away. “Idiot.” he growls, though you can’t deny the faint pinkness tinting his cheeks. “Just take your shot.”

As the game progresses, and you all become more and more tipsy, the boundaries of the game become more and more blurred as it quickly turns into something more suggestive.

Dazai turns to you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “Give Chuuya a lap dance, or take a shot.”

Chuuya scoffs and you sigh, accepting your fate as you slide yourself over to sit on his lap, not wanting to become blackout drunk.

He stiffens, eyes wide. “I t-thought you were gonna take the shot.”

You toss your hair behind your shoulders, adjusting on his lap. “It’s fine, Chuuya. Dazai’s an idiot, and I don’t want to take any more shots.”

His breathing becomes slightly heavier and he simply nods, spreading his legs wider for you.

Dazai watches intently, his eyes fixed on you as he slightly shifts in his seat. “For a whole minute.”

You shoot Dazai a scowl which he responds to with a wink, before you begin to move atop the red-head.

Your hands come to his shoulders to support yourself and his hands fly to grip tightly on to your hips as you shift and arch your back, grinding over him.

His hands glide up your thighs, and the moment becomes more intimate as your breathing becomes slightly heavier and Chuuya stares at you, in a trance. You can feel his bulge straining underneath you, and can’t deny the fact that heat was beginning to blossom in your core.

The alcohol makes you hazy, and the minute is up before you realize, Dazai quickly ushering you off his lap, with a hint of jealousy in his eyes. “Okay, okay. Wrap it up.”

Chuuya lifts his hips, adjusting himself with a scowl pointed at Dazai. “It was your idea, shithead.”

Dazai waves him off. “Yeah, yeah. You gonna go, or just sit there bricked up for the rest of the night?”

Chuuya quickly looks down, shifting again as he practically spits out. “Take a shot off of Dazai or take two shots.”

Intrigued, Dazai turns to you eagerly and you slightly fold your arms over your chest with a frown. “I said I didn’t wanna take any more shots.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes, still trying to hide his growing erection. “Just do it.”

Turning away, you grab the shot, and to Dazai’s delight, tilt his chin up, placing the cool glass into his open mouth.

Dazai’s eyes close and you press your mouth on top of his, feeling his soft eager lips against yours.

Carefully, he flips you over without breaking the kiss, and the alcohol from the shot glass fills your mouth.

He draws back quickly, taking the shot glass out of his mouth, and saying, “don’t swallow,” before capturing your lips again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and coaxing the liquid into his throat as he drinks up every drop.

Drawing back, satisfied, he wipes his mouth. “There. Now you didn’t take a shot.”

Slightly flushed, your lips still parted, you look over to where Chuuya is watching, an indecipherable expression on his face. “I’ve got a dare.”

Dazai looks over indignantly, his cheeks slightly flushed from the moment you two had just shared. “It’s not your tur-”

“Since you enjoyed it so much, why don’t you kiss Dazai passionately for two minutes, without breaking apart.”

Dazai looks absolutely ecstatic at the idea, not even giving you a second to process Chuuya's words before he pulls you by the waist against him, crashing his lips to yours and slipping his tongue past your lips.

The heat of his mouth overwhelms you, and he pulls you tighter against him, and it’s just then that you feel how hard he is. You know you should stop now, before things escalate more than they already have, but you can’t, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him harshly against you, eliciting a soft whine from him.

“Two minutes are up.” a cool voice breaks into your trance, as you quickly draw back from Dazai, strings of saliva connecting you both.

But he’s not looking at you. He’s looking at Chuuya with a smirk on his face, and it’s then that you realize you’ve become a sort of competition between the two, to taunt and see just how far the other will go.

And the worst part was judging from the pulsing in between your thighs, you liked it.

“Chuuya.” Dazai says, voice smooth and indicative of trouble. “Your dare is to finger y/n.”

The room falls completely silent, save for the thud of your heartbeat as you stare at Chuuya, slack-jawed.

He sighs, reaching for the shot glass, unamused. “I’m not gonna-”

“What?” Dazai taunts. “You don’t like her?”

You tilt your head at Chuuya, a little hurt.

He quickly glances at you. “Of course I like her, you moron, it’s just that unlike some people I have morals-”

“Or, maybe you’re just scared. Can’t imagine you can do much with those fingers, being as short as you are.” Dazai continues on, unperturbed, clearly aiming for Chuuya’s weak spots. "I, on the other hand would do a great job. In fact-"

At this, Chuuya immediately springs up, growling out a harsh, “Fine! You want me to so bad, then I will! We'll see who does better!” Turning to you, he lifts you up onto the bar table, his tone turning more gentle. “Lie down for me, doll.”

You comply, blushing as you feel yourself heating up at his words and the promise of what they were both about to do to you, arousal seeping out of you.

Dazai leans over you, eager to watch how this would play out. Chuuya immediately starts stripping you out of your Port Mafia uniform, unhooking your bra and inhaling slightly when your perky breasts spill out, pebbling instantly. He leaves you in just your lacy pair of black panties, pausing as his fingers hook in the waistband. "Is this okay?"

When you quickly nod, in one sharp tug, he rips the panties off of you, and you're truly bare for the first time in front of them, exposed and vulnerable.

Dazai is the first to react, smirking as he runs a hand up your thigh. "Who knew our partner was hiding such a pretty pussy from us?"

Chuuya is quick to slap his hand away. "It's my turn, asshole."

Gently, he spreads your legs open to reveal your sopping cunt, his breathing becoming heavier at the sight, eyes glued to the obscene sight of you all laid out for him. Reaching one hand between your plushy thighs, he circles your entrance, before dipping a finger in to test.

At the soft whine you let out, already wet enough for him to plunge his entire finger into you easily, he inhales sharply, looking over to Dazai. "She's so tight."

Dazai's eyes are heated as he watches, an obvious tent in his pants, but he still remains just as arrogant. "What, can't handle it? If you wanted me to help-"

As Dazai steps closer, Chuuya shields your body, adding another finger to stretch you as he uses his other hand to push Dazai away. "Just watch and learn, idiot."

And that's his only warning before he begins fucking you with his fingers full-force, pumping in and out of your squelching cunt, as he adds pressure to your clit, pressing harshly enough to make you squeal.

As your back arches off the table you're spread across, trying to squirm, Dazai's quick to hold you down, his hands splaying across your waist.

"Fuck, chuu," you whine, as his finger begins rubbing your puffy bud in quick circles, his fingers only speeding up.

While you're distracted by Chuuya, Dazai's hands begin to wander, moving up your body slowly, before cupping your tits and squeezing.

Your hips stutter, thighs clamping around Chuuya's hand, and he instantly pushes them back apart, one hand holding them open wide as Dazai begins kneading your breasts, flicking your nipples teasingly while cooing at your soft moans and whimpers. "Too much?"

As you open your mouth to answer, Chuuya delivers a particularly forceful thrust with his fingers, and you can only let out a broken whine.

You can feel your stomach coiling, signaling your fast-approaching orgasm as Dazai's hands get rougher, pinching and squeezing you tightly.

"Well Chuuya, she hasn't come yet I'm starting to doubt your abilities-"

"Can you put your mouth to use for once, and shut up!" he grumbles, his pace increasing as he gets more worked up by Dazai's antics.

"Chuu, wait slow down I'm..." Before you can finish, you feel Dazai's hot, wet tongue laving over one of your nipples before taking almost your entire breast into his mouth.

And suddenly you can't hold back anymore, arching yourself into both of their addictive touches as warmth quickly coats Chuuya's fingers, seeping between your thighs, while your cunt flutters and convulses around his thick fingers.

He slows, pulling them out, before gently tapping your cheek, wanting you to open up. As you do, your tongue lolling out obediently, he shoves his slick-covered fingers into the warmth of your awaiting mouth. "Suck them clean." he commands softly and as you do, your tongue sweeping across his fingers to taste the tang of yourself, he groans softly.

"Okay, that's enough, Chuuya." Dazai, clearly wanting in on the action, shoulders Chuuya aside to stand in front of your sweat-sheened body, his hands coming to brush along your hips and waist, mapping out every inch of skin he can reach.

Chuuya leans back against the table to watch, one hand coming to palm the large bulge straining against his pants.

Dazai's fingers aren't as thick, but they're longer, as he gently traces the outline of your pussy, ghosting his thumb every now and then lightly over your throbbing clit.

After this continues on for another minute or so, you begin to get impatient, trying to tug his hand closer. " 'samu pleaseee.."

"You heard her, shithead! Touch her!"

Dazai's lips curve up at Chuuya's tone, but he obeys nonetheless, his fingers finally dipping into your sopping cunt.

You practically sigh in relief as he pushes one lithe finger inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot as he curves upward slightly, causing you to grip tightly onto Chuuya's sleeve.

Dazai pouts his lip out at you mockingly at your reaction, before shoving another finger into you, stretching you so deliciously as he reaches farther than you've ever been able to get with your own fingers.

You whine, desperately trying to clamp your thighs together, still sensitive from Chuuya's earlier ministrations, all of it becoming too much but unable to with Dazai keeping your thighs perfectly spread to fuck his fingers in and out of you relentlessly, slower than Chuuya but much deeper, until your eyes are practically rolling back in your head.

"Samu! Slower.." you slur, your hips shifting to try to get a reprieve, already close to falling off the edge again, just from how fast this was all unfolding.

He slows slightly, but before you get a chance to breathe, scissors you wide open with his long, slender digits, instantly causing you to buck your hips up pathetically as you gush all over his fingers.

He continues curving them up until you're desperately trying to move away, and only then does he finally pull them out, satisfied.

You pant softly, closing your eyes, thinking that maybe you were finally going to get a break after all of this, before suddenly the feeling of two shadows looming over you breaks you out of your euphoric haze.

You open your eyes to reveal both of them beginning to unbuckle their belts, their pants tented to reveal imprints of two very large cocks. "W-what?"

Dazai's eyes are hooded as he breathes heavily, eyes dropping to your breasts hungrily. Chuuya laughs. "What? You didn't think we were done already, did you?"

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

tagslist: (ask to be tagged!) @rosebluuod @sakui1 @snowsilver2000 @kissesmellow21

[thewickedjazzy]

‟𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭, 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓪𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪?”➵ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴍᴅɴɪ

➵𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Chuuya x f! reader.

➵𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Enemies to Fuckers Lovers? it's been two years since you joined the port mafia and chuuya still gives you the cold shoulder like you’re some sort of personal vendetta. confused, you finally mustered up the courage to ask him straight up why he’s been acting like a dick? What’s his deal with you?

➵𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : NSFW mdni 8.9k of pure filth, smut with plot, oral (both giving and receiving) kinky sex, profanity, taboo sex, hatesex, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, standing sex, public sex, impact play, dirty talk, sweaty sex, cum visuals, risky sex, hand bondage/restrains, face-fucking/both of you, reader begging, multiple positions, also small font, I guess that's it? *phew*.

You sat at your desk, arriving earlier than anyone else in the mafia, as was your habit. You needed the quiet, the solitude, to unwind before the day’s chaos began. You held your favourite coffee cup, inhaled the rich aroma, and sighed. How long has it been? Two years, four months, and six days... yeah. When would you ever stop counting the days you've been single?

There was a strange duality to it. You hated and loved being single, a paradox you couldn't escape. You despised how your body ached for physical touch for intimacy, yet you relished the freedom of not being tied down to anyone. Maybe it was the aftereffect of that toxic, possessive relationship you barely escaped. But, oh, how you longed for the warmth of another human’s touch.

You've had your share of one-night stands in the past, long before your first real relationship. They were empty, fleeting encounters that left you feeling hollow. So, you stopped, refusing to return to that endless cycle of meaningless desire. Yet, lately, the thought of going back crossed your mind. But the idea of being satisfied by just any random man no longer appealed to you. It was a dilemma you couldn’t seem to resolve—a yearning for connection that couldn't be fulfilled by just anyone.

As you sipped your coffee, lost in your thoughts, the door to your office creaked open. You glanced up, and there he was—Chuuya Nakahara, the one person whose presence you both dreaded yet expected. He walked in with that usual air of authority, his expression already bordering on annoyance.

He handed you a file, his eyes narrowing slightly as he did so. "Good morning," he muttered, his tone curt, before turning on his heel to leave.

You watched him with irritation and confusion bubbling up inside you. Chuuya was one of the few people in the mafia who didn’t seem to act normal around you. Everyone else kept their distance, thanks to Mori’s strict orders. Your attractiveness had made you untouchable, quite literally. No one dared to look your way, let alone flirt with you. But Chuuya? He was different.

"Why does he hate me so much?" You wondered, frustration gnawing at you. You couldn't recall a single interaction between you two that didn't end in some form of argument or cold standoff. Working with him was a nightmare, a constant clash of wills that left you drained.

You opened the file he handed you, trying to push thoughts of him out of your mind. But it was no use; the way he acted, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be difficult, it all kept nagging at you.

As you tried to focus on the task at hand, you couldn’t help but wonder—was it really hatred he felt toward you, or was there something more hidden beneath that tough exterior?

The day passed in a blur of paperwork and meetings, with no further interactions between you and Chuuya. You crossed paths once, briefly, neither of you saying a word, just a cold exchange of glances before moving on. The tension between you two was palpable, but neither of you made any effort to break it.

As the evening set in, you stepped out of the mafia headquarters and onto the pavement, waiting for your chauffeur. The city was settling into its usual nighttime rhythm, the hum of distant traffic filling the air. You absentmindedly watched the railway, your mind drifting as you pulled out a cigarette. But before you could light it, you felt a few drops of rain on your hand. You sighed as you opened your umbrella with one hand while continuing to fumble with the lighter in the other.

After several failed attempts, you cursed under your breath, frustration getting the best of you. Just then, a flicker of light appeared in front of your face. It wasn’t your lighter. You looked up, surprised to see Chuuya standing beside you, holding out his lighter. His expression was as unreadable as ever, though there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You leaned in, the tip of your cigarette meeting the flame. Taking a slow drag, you felt the warmth of the smoke fill your lungs as you watched Chuuya put his lighter back into his pocket, rolling his eyes as if lighting your cigarette was the last thing he wanted to do. He turned his gaze away, clearly disinterested.

You slipped your useless lighter into your pocket, holding your cigarette between your burgundy lips.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice nonchalant before taking another drag.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the only sound being the soft patter of rain against the pavement. You wondered what had prompted him to offer you a light. Was it just a reflex, a simple act of decency? Or was there something more behind it? Whatever it was, you knew better than to dwell on it.

You stood there under your umbrella, cigarette in hand, your gaze drifted back to Chuuya. He was waiting for his chauffeur as well, standing just a few feet away under his own umbrella. You couldn’t help but admire his features—the sharpness of his azure fox-like eyes, the softness of his lips, the perfect angles of his cheekbones. There was no denying that he was attractive, irritatingly so.

But the admiration quickly turned into something else—annoyance, frustration. Ugh, you hated him. No matter how attractive he was, that didn’t change the fact that you despised everything about him. The way he always seemed to be annoyed with you, the way he acted as if you were a thorn in his side.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize how long you had been staring until Chuuya suddenly turned and caught you. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you moved. Then, his expression hardened, and he glared at you with that familiar look of irritation.

You rolled your eyes, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had caught you off guard. You took another drag of your cigarette, trying to act as if you hadn’t been caught staring. But you could feel the tension in the air, thick and almost palpable.

He didn’t say anything—just continued to glare at you, as if daring you to make the first move. But you refused to play his game. Instead, you looked away, focusing on the rain that continued to fall around you.

As the silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but break it with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “Something on your mind, Nakahara?” His persistent stare felt intrusive, and you were fed up with the unspoken tension between you two.

Chuuya shifted his gaze forward, ignoring your question. His expression remained set in a scowl, the kind that suggested he was as tired of the situation as you were. He didn't bother responding, choosing instead to focus on the approaching headlights of his own chauffeur's car.

The lack of response only fueled your irritation. “Seriously, you’re just going to stand there and glare at me without saying a word?”

He finally turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with an exasperated look. “I’m not in the mood for conversation,” he said tersely. “And clearly, neither are you.”

You bristled at his words, the tension between you both palpable. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Or at least stop making it so obvious you can’t stand being around me.”

Chuuya’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. The rain continued to fall, the noise around you becoming a backdrop to the uneasy silence that had settled between you. Finally, he gave a curt nod, his voice low. “Whatever you think, just… keep it to yourself.”

Before you could retort, his chauffeur's car pulled up beside him, and he turned away, his demeanor shutting down the conversation. “Good night,” he muttered, stepping into the car without a backward glance.

As Chuuya’s car pulled away, you were left standing in the rain, feeling irritated. The brief encounter had done nothing to resolve the tension between you two; if anything, it had only deepened it.

You took one last drag from your cigarette before tossing it onto the wet pavement, letting the rain extinguish its smoldering end. You huddled under your umbrella, watching the darkening cityscape with a sense of disillusionment.

Minutes later, your own chauffeur's car arrived. You slid into the backseat, your mood sour and your thoughts swirling. The car's interior was a stark contrast to the damp chill of the evening—warm, dry, and oddly comforting. But even as you settled into the plush seat, your mind was still fixed on Chuuya.

"Why did he always act like that?" You constantly wondered, replaying the conversation in your head. It was clear he had some sort of issue with you, but what was it? The unspoken animosity between you was as frustrating as it was inexplicable.

The days following your brief interaction with Chuuya fell back into the familiar routine of terse exchanges and cold silences. The only time you and Chuuya spoke was during the occasional meetings or when you had to pass on files or reports. Those interactions were always brief and professional, but the underlying tension remained an unspoken barrier between you two.

The afternoons were typically consumed by paperwork. As one of the most trusted executives in the mafia, you were no stranger to the piles of reports, updates, and various documents that demanded your attention. Yet, there were always certain documents that Mori seemed to insist you stay away from, and despite your best efforts, you never quite understood why. It was an irritation that lingered in the back of your mind, adding to the daily grind.

One afternoon, as you sifted through a particularly dense stack of paperwork, you heard a knock at your office door. Tachihara, one of the trusted members of the organization, stood there with a polite bow. His presence was a welcome break from the monotony.

You looked up from your paperwork, surprised by Tachihara's visit. You hadn’t expected to be summoned by Mori, especially given how preoccupied he seemed lately with various secretive matters.

“Boss is waiting for you in his office,” Tachihara informed you, his tone respectful but direct. You nodded, setting aside the papers and straightening up.

“Thank you, Tachihara-kun” you replied, rising from your desk. You adjusted your skirt and smoothed out your appearance before making your way to Mori’s grand office.

As you walked through the maze of corridors leading to the boss’s office, you couldn’t shake the sense of unease. Mori’s meetings were often shrouded in mystery, and you never quite knew what to expect. When you finally reached his office, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door and waiting for permission to enter.

“Come in,” Mori’s voice called from within, and you opened the door, stepping inside.

Mori sat behind his imposing desk, his demeanor calm and collected as always. The room was richly decorated, with dark wood furniture and a few select pieces of art that spoke to his refined tastes. He looked up as you entered, his expression unreadable.

“My dear, please, have a seat,” Mori said, gesturing to the chair across from him. You settled into the chair, maintaining a professional posture as you awaited his instructions.

“I have a special assignment for you. It’s both simple and complex, and I need someone with your skills and discretion.” he said casually.

You nodded, bracing yourself. “What’s the mission?”

Mori leaned forward slightly, his hands steepled in front of him. “There’s a rising criminal organization that’s been making waves. We need to infiltrate them and obtain some critical information. The task is straightforward—get the information and report back.”

You listened attentively, already mentally preparing for the infiltration process. But then Mori dropped a bombshell. “Your partner for this mission will be Chuuya Nakahara.”

Your heart sank. Chuuya was, without a doubt, the most difficult person to work with in the mafia. The constant friction between you two was practically irritating, and the thought of being paired with him on a covert mission was daunting.

“Chuuya?” you echoed, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. “Are you sure about this?”

Mori’s expression remained inscrutable. “Yes. He’s one of the best we have, and his skills will be invaluable for this mission. I trust you both to handle it.”

Before you could voice more objections, Mori continued, “There’s another aspect to this mission. You’ll need to deliver a copy of the information to Dazai.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Dazai? But he’s—”

“—with the agency, yes,” Mori interrupted. “However, the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency are temporarily joining forces for this mission. It’s a strategic alliance, and Dazai will be the point of contact on their end.”

The mention of Dazai brought a flood of questions to your mind. You had heard his name in passing but knew very little about him. The thought of meeting him, combined with the fact that you had to work with Chuuya, was overwhelming.

“Can you tell me more about Dazai?” you asked, hoping Mori might elaborate.

Mori’s gaze turned distant for a moment before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. What you need to know will be provided as the mission progresses. Just focus on the task at hand and coordinate with Chuuya.”

You felt a surge of frustration. “What about Chuuya and me working together? How do you expect us to manage that?”

Mori’s lips curled into a faint smile. “You both have your skills and abilities. It’s time to put them to the test. Consider this a chance to prove yourselves.”

With that, Mori dismissed you, leaving you with a heavy sense of foreboding. You rose from your chair and made your way out of his office, your thoughts racing. The mission itself seemed manageable, but the prospect of working closely with Chuuya and the unknown variables involving Dazai was already making your head spin.

You headed back to your office to prepare for the mission, the prospect of your new partnership with Chuuya hanging over you like a dark cloud. The thought of dealing with him on top of everything else was more than a little unsettling.

The next day, you met with Chuuya at the designated briefing point. His usual stoic expression never left his face, and you braced yourself for the inevitable tension.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, barely acknowledging your presence. “The sooner we get in and out, the better.”

You sighed inwardly but kept your expression neutral. “Fine."

The mission went surprisingly smoothly. The criminal organization was unprepared for the level of infiltration and precision you and Chuuya brought. You moved efficiently, gathering the necessary intelligence and completing your objectives with minimal interaction. Chuuya’s demeanor remained as distant and curt as ever, his usual aloofness never wavering. It was almost as if he were a machine, functioning solely to execute the tasks at hand.

By the time you finished, you were both back at the car Mori had sent. It was an extravagant vehicle, a sleek black limousine with tinted windows and plush leather seats. The interior was adorned with rich wood paneling and ambient lighting, making it feel more like a mobile lounge than a mere car. The ride was comfortable, but the tension between you and Chuuya was palpable.

As you settled into the seat across from him, you tried to break the silence. “You did a good job, Nakahara,” you said, aiming for a tone of genuine appreciation despite the usual friction between you two.

Chuuya’s eyes remained fixed on the window, his posture rigid. “Whatever,” he replied curtly, barely sparing you a glance.

You frowned, the audacity!! “Seriously, you can’t even acknowledge a compliment? What’s your deal?”

He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a defensive glint. “I don’t need your praise. Just doing my job.”

You leaned forward, trying to gauge his reaction. “It’s not about needing praise. It’s about working together and showing a bit of respect. Why do you always act like this?”

Chuuya’s expression hardened, and he seemed to bristle at the question. “You think I’m just going to open up? Don’t flatter yourself.”

The defensiveness in his voice was unexpected, almost endearing in its own way. “I’m not asking you to spill your guts. I just want to understand why you’re so cold with me all the time.”

He shifted in his seat, his gaze still locked on the window but his voice softer. “I’ve got my reasons, alright? Maybe I don’t like dealing with people who make things complicated.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the hint of vulnerability in his words. “And you think I’m the one making things complicated? We’re both part of the same organization, Chuuya. We need to be able to work together without this constant friction.”

He looked at you, his eyes betraying a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or confusion. “It’s not that simple. I don’t know how to… change things.”

“Change things?” you muttered, and he did not respond but rather shifted his focus on the cityscape beyond the car window.

You watched him from across your seat, trying to decipher the complexity behind his cold exterior.

Despite his stoic demeanor, there was a certain magnetism about him. You couldn’t ignore the effect his presence had on you—irritating, frustrating, but undeniably compelling.

As for Chuuya? he certainly didn't hate you—he’d be a fool to think that! In reality, he was drawn to every part of you. The short black skirt and sheer tights that accentuated your plush thighs seemed to torment him, despite his efforts to ignore it. The struggle was evident in the way his fingers tensed and relaxed, and the subtle clenching of his jaw—it was all a clear sign of the internal conflict he was battling.

That day, when you bent down to pick up the paper that had slipped from your file. As you leaned forward, his eyes couldn't help but follow, and that's when he noticed—today, you weren’t wearing your usual sheer tights. Instead, the lace of your black thong was clearly visible, highlighting the soft, plush curve of your butt. The sight was enough to make his cock semi-hard aching for you, his breath catching as he quickly averted his gaze, struggling to rein in the sudden, intense desire that gripped him that day.

Chuuya had to muster every bit of self-control not to reach out, not to let his fingers trace the exposed skin that teased him so relentlessly. The image of your laced thong was burned into his mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else for the rest of that day. Every time he blinked, he saw you—bent over, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. It was driving him nuts, how effortlessly you could push him to the brink without even realizing it.

That's why he had always kept his distance, his cold demeanour serving as a shield against both his growing desire for you and the need to comply with Mori's orders—after all, disobedience would mean his head on a silver platter. Yet, the more time he spent around you, the harder it became to resist the pull. Your effortless elegance and the way you leaned forward during conversations, with your shirt casually undone just enough to accentuate your perfect breasts, only deepened his torment, making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you, you—how breathtakingly beautiful you were.

The next leg of the mission was to meet with Dazai. As you arrived at the designated location, a chic café in a quieter part of town well, technically it was below the agency's base exactly, you tried to shake off the lingering tension from your interactions with Chuuya. You were greeted by Dazai, who was waiting with a relaxed yet attentive posture.

The moment you stepped in, Dazai's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He swiftly approached you, a charming smile on his face. “So, you’re the renowned beauty of the Port Mafia,” he said, taking your hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it.

Chuuya, who had followed closely behind, immediately scoffed, his irritation fairly noticable as he growled. “Back off, shitty Dazai.”

You offered a brief, polite smile but said little, your focus on the task at hand. With a practiced ease, you handed over the copy of the information to Dazai. There was no need for further pleasantries or small talk; the mission was complete, and your departure was already on your mind.

After a terse farewell, you left the café, yet you wanted to know more about him. Why did they call him the demon prodigy? He looked like an angel.

Back at the headquarters, you and Chuuya were debriefing with Mori. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension, and as usual, Chuuya was terse and uncooperative. You handed over the details of the mission, and Mori's response was as enigmatic as ever.

"Excellent work," Mori said, though his gaze lingered on you as if gauging your reaction to the assignment. "I trust you both performed to the best of your abilities."

You nodded, and once Mori dismissed you, you left his office and made your way back to your desk. The weight of the day's events still hung over you.

Over the next few days, you threw yourself into paperwork, using it as a distraction. But the nagging thoughts about Dazai grew harder to ignore. When you finally finished your backlog of documents, you decided to act on your impulsivity.

You made your way to the Archive Storage Room on the second floor of the building. It was an area that prohibited from visit, and you were confident that you wouldn’t be disturbed. You took extra precautions, ensuring that no one was following you before entering the room.

Inside, the dim lighting and the smell of old paper greeted you. The Archive Storage Room was filled with rows of filing cabinets and dusty boxes. You approached the computer in the corner, its screen flickering to life as you powered it up.

You typed in "𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒" and watched as the search results loaded. The information that appeared was both astonishing and unsettling. The screen displayed details about Dazai’s criminal history—records of his rise in the underworld, his notorious reputation, and an extensive list of crimes.

Youngest mafia executive in history. Counts of conspiracy to murder, extortion, and assorted fraud. The numbers were staggering: 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud, among other serious offences.

As you absorbed the details, you felt a chill. The contrast between the man you had seen and the criminal profile on the screen was jarring. Was Dazai truly as enigmatic and multifaceted as he seemed? Or was there something more sinister beneath his charming exterior?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a noise outside the room. You quickly shut down the computer, your heart racing.

You froze for a moment, listening intently to the sounds outside. It was faint but persistent, suggesting someone was approaching.

Suddenly, you noticed a door to a nearby storage room that seemed to lead somewhere different. It was marked as a liquor store room and had a password lock. You hadn't known the combination, but lucky you, the door was slightly ajar. Without thinking twice, you slipped inside, hoping it would provide some temporary refuge.

The room was dimly lit, filled with rows of bottles and crates stacked haphazardly. You stood in the middle of the room, trying to steady your breathing and listen for any signs of movement. Just as you were about to move further into the room, you felt a firm hand grab your arm and yank you backward.

A hand was pressed over your mouth, muffling your gasp. You were pulled into a tight corner of the room, hidden behind a stack of crates. Panic surged through you as you struggled.

"Shhh, you're gonna get us caught," a familiar voice hissed.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the voice—Chuuya?

He kept his hand firmly over your mouth, his breath warm against your ear. You could feel the tension in his body as he pressed you back into the corner, his own form shadowy against the dim flickering light coming from the outside of the archive room.

"Don't make a sound," he murmured, keeping his voice low. His eyes darted towards the ajar door, watching for any sign of intrusion.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered fiercely, trying to keep your voice down. “And why are you hiding with me?”

Chuuya glanced around. His expression was clearly uneasy. “I was following you. I knew you’d be up to something. Mori has his eyes on you, and I didn’t want you getting into trouble. We need to get out of here before someone finds us.”

You stared at him, bewildered by his unexpected appearance and his protectiveness. “I didn’t ask for your help, Nakahara.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze scanning the room. “I didn’t ask to be put in this position either,” he muttered.

As you and Chuuya pressed against the tight corner, the proximity of your bodies intensified the tension. His breath was warm and rapid against your neck, carrying the distinct scent of alcohol—had he been drinking before following you? The dim flicker of light from outside illuminated his azure eyes, half-lidded and filled with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. His hands rested beside your small frame, effectively trapping you in the confined space.

The close contact made your heart race. You could feel his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own, a rhythmic reminder of just how near you were to him. His hot breath against your neck and jawline was almost too much to bear. The sensation made your stomach sink with... pleasure?

It had been a long time since you were this close to anyone, let alone someone as fucking Chuuya Nakahara. The air between you was charged, every movement of his body against yours making your cunt clench around nothing dripping with arousal—fucking get a grip! Are you really that desperate for him?

As the footsteps continued to echo outside, you remained still, acutely aware of every sensation. Then, suddenly, it registered—you felt the unmistakable bulge press against your thighs. The realization hit you like a wave, and a surge of desire took over your whole body.

Your mind was suddenly consumed by a singular, overpowering urge. Despite the circumstances and the years of walls you had both built around yourselves hating each other's guts, the thought of pressing your lips against his beautiful pink ones was almost overwhelming. The attraction, once a mere undercurrent, had become an undeniable urge that you couldn’t ignore.

Chuuya’s eyes fell to your lips, a soft pink tint colouring his cheeks—whether from the alcohol or something more. A few strands of hair stuck to his temple and forehead, damp with sweat, as his breathing grew increasingly erratic. The closeness between you, along with how delicious and obedient you looked beneath him, made every second feel like an eternity. You both knew that one move, one breath too close, could change everything.

You swear to heavens that you tried desperately to focus on anything, but the overwhelming sensation of his twitching bulge against your thighs was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"Chuuya.." Your curiosity got the better of you, as you whispered, “Why are you protecting me?”

You shifted slightly, feeling the unmistakable pressure of his bulge growing with each passing second against your thighs.

“Shut up,” he snapped, his voice still low. Before you could react, he crushed his lips against yours, kissing you deeply and passionately, tasting every bit of you as if he wanted to savour the moment completely, to memorise how hot your lips felt between his wet ones.

His lips moved against yours with an intensity that took your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. The tension that had been simmering between you two finally erupted in this heated moment.

You could feel his body pressed firmly against yours, his heartbeat thudding wildly in sync with your own. His other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you against him. The sensation of his hard length pressed against your clothed aching core sent a shiver through you, making you beg for more, how much did you miss this? Not the touch from any other man, but a man like him.

His lips left yours only briefly, his breath ragged as he pulled back to gaze at you. His azure eyes were dark, filled with desire. His cheeks were flushed, and his usually composed demeanor had completely unraveled. “I fucking hate you so much,”

You stared at him, still breathless from the kiss, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. The desire that you kept buried for so long surged to the surface, impossible to ignore any longer. The way he looked at you, with such raw need despite his words, sent a jolt of heat straight to your now-dripping cunt.

“Oh...I can tell, but no matter how much you hate me, you still want this.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

His lips crashed onto yours with a fervent, insatiable hunger. His kisses were wild and demanding, each one more fervent than the last, making your stomach crumble in desire, the way he sucked on your lips, titling your head to deepen the kiss, tongue darting inside your hot mouth and dancing with your own, hot saliva dripping from your lips as he continues his open-mouthed kissing, hot breaths mixed together with low whimpers.

He suddenly pulled away, breaking the intense kiss. He held up a hand, signaling for you to stay quiet as he focused on the sounds outside the liquor store room. The muffled footsteps that had been approaching earlier now moved away, growing fainter with each passing second. He strained to listen, his sharp senses alert. After what felt like an eternity, a distinct thud echoed through the room as the door to the archive storage slammed shut. Whoever had been snooping around was now gone.

“They’re gone,” Chuuya whispered, more to himself than to you, as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Without missing a beat, you lowered yourself to your knees before him, your eyes never leaving his. Chuuya tensed, watching your every move, he frowned his eyebrows, eyes half-lidded with desire. His usual confidence wavered for a split second, and he mumbled, “This… this is a bad idea.”

But you didn’t care. The heat between you was too much to resist, and the thrill of what you were about to do only fueled your desire. Ignoring his words, you pressed your face against his clothed cock, feeling its hardness through the fabric. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his as he stared down at you, his expression a betraying an overwhelming lust.

"Just let me taste you... please." Wait—did you just beg him? What is wrong with you!

“Fuck…” he cursed under his breath, his voice strained as he clenched his fists, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But the way you looked at him, your lips so close to his aching cock, the heat of your breath making him shiver, combined with your desperate, pleading tone, was more than he could bear, he just couldn't hold back.

His hips jerked slightly, a reflexive response to the heat of your breath seeping through the fabric.

You could feel his length twitch beneath the cloth, and a thrill ran through you at the power you held over him in this moment. Your fingers trailed up his thighs, brushing over the firm muscles hidden beneath his clothes, before finding the button of his trousers. You deftly undid it, feeling the tremor that ran through his body at the simple motion.

“Hmm doll..” he rasped, his voice hoarse with need. His hands twitched at his sides as if fighting the urge to reach out and grab you, to pull you even closer. “Mori would have my head on a platter. Do you really want that? You should stop—mm, fuck…”

But the way his cock strained against the fabric, begging for release, told a different story. You ignored his half-hearted protests, slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers and boxers to free him. The moment his thick, throbbing length sprang free, you couldn’t help but admire the sight before you—his flushed cock, already slick at the tip with precum, practically pulsing with the need for your touch.

Your lips brushed against the head, tasting the salty sweetness of his arousal. Chuuya groaned above you, the sound vibrating through the small room and setting your nerves on fire. His hand finally found its way into your hair, tangling in the strands as he fought to keep control of himself.

“Argh… doll,” he groaned again, but there was no longer any resistance in his tone. Only raw, unfiltered need.

You licked a slow, deliberate line from the base of his cock to the tip, savoring the way his breath hitched, his grip tightening in your hair. Then, without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him as you sank down, taking him as deep as you could.

“Fuck! Hmmph” Chuuya cursed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you began to move, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm. The gloved hand in your hair tightened, not to push you away, but to hold you in place, as if he couldn’t bear to lose the sensation of your warm, wet mouth around him.

You could feel him trembling above you, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing second. His other hand came to rest against the wall, steadying himself as his control slipped further away.

Every time you glanced up at him, you saw the struggle on his face, the way his normally composed expression had completely unraveled into one of pure, desperate desire. His azure eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were now dark and heavy-lidded, consumed by the pleasure you were giving him.

“Doll…,” he gasped, his voice rough as he looked down at you, eyes blazing with more lust. “Stop looking at me like that.”

But you didn’t slow down, didn’t stop. Instead, you doubled your efforts, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head with every upward stroke. You could feel him twitching in your mouth, the telltale sign that he was close, so close.

“Shit… Haah— doll, I—” Chuuya’s mere warning came out in a choked groan as his hips jerked forward, his control finally snapping. He tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him, keeping him locked in place as you took him to the hilt, swallowing around him as his cock twitched spilling out ropes of hot cum into your mouth with a ragged cry.

The taste of him flooded your senses, hot and salty, and you swallowed every drop, your tongue working to coax every last bit of pleasure from him. Chuuya’s body shuddered with the force of his release, his hand loosening in your hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

Finally, when you were sure he had nothing left to give, you pulled back, licking your lips as you looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared down at you, still breathless and trembling.

You grinned up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest as you savored the sight of him, thoroughly undone and utterly at your mercy. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before following me,” you teased, your voice laced with playful defiance.

He scoffed as he pulled you up to your feet, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, almost desperate kiss. His hands gripped your hips, holding you close as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. He could feel the remnants of his release still on your tongue, the taste of him mingling with the intensity of the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged and heavy, you thought that might be the end of it. But then his eyes darkened with renewed hunger, and you realized he wasn’t nearly done with you.

“You think I’m finished doll... hmm?” he rasped.

Before you could respond, his hand, now fully beneath your skirt, slid higher, tracing the curve of your inner thigh as he pushed your legs apart with his perfectly toned ones. The rough pads of his fingers met the delicate lace of your panties, and he tugged them down with a swift, impatient movement, letting them drop to the floor.

You gasped as his hand moved back up, fingers brushing over your aching core, slick with need. The sensation was too much, each touch sending sparks of pleasure in your stomach. His breath hitched as he felt how wet you were, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Fuck, doll... already s‘ wet from just sucking my cock?” he muttered against your lips as he lets out a shaky chuckle. His fingers circled your clit, teasing, before slipping between your folds, one finger then two and now three? You arched into him, your back pressing against the cold wall. His long neat bare fingers curling inside you expertly to find that spot that made your knees weak—when did he manage take off his gloves?

You bit your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation overwhelming, but he wasn't having any of it. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me hear you, doll face.” he whispered, his fingers moving faster, slipping inside you with a sudden, rough thrusts. The sensation ripped a moan from your throat, and you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself, your nails digging into his white dress shirt shirt.

Chuuya chuckled, his lips brushing against the side of your neck "You smell s‘ delicious. Did you wear that perfume just to tease me, hmm?" His fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt with one hand, his other hand continued its relentless, fast thrusts inside you. When he finally exposed your laced bra, he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing with appreciation as he took in the sight of the perfect curve of your soft breasts. "Matching bra and panties—it's as if you're begging for it. Were you scheming something nasty in that pretty head of yours?"

He yanked the cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes. His hands were quick to follow, kneading and squeezing as his hot mouth closed around your hard nipples, sucking and nibbling with a soft whimpers indicating that he's enjoying it as well. He continued to finger you, his pace growing more insistent.

You were lost in the sensation, your head falling back as he played with your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers slipped in and out of you, curling just right to hit that perfect spot that made your vision blur with pleasure.

“Chuuya... please,” you gasped, not even sure what you were begging for, but desperate for more. The heat between you was unbearable, the air thick with tension and the scent of sex.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

Without warning, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate for more. You barely had time to protest before he spun you around, pushing you against the cold wall causing you to gasp from the surprise switch.

His hands gripped your hips, as he positioned himself between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing against your slick folds.

With one swift thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. The sudden stretch made you cry out, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the sensation overwhelmed you. He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to move, each thrust deep and hard, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke.

“Fuck, you feel s‘ good, s‘ fucking tight fuck fuck-” he growled as he kissed and sucked on you exposed neck.

The sound of skin against skin echoed in the small, dimly lit room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and his ragged breathing.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Fuck! I hate you ah— so fucking much.”

His words sent a thrill of something dark and intoxicating through you, the blend of pleasure and pain blurring the line between hate and desire. You could feel him everywhere—his cock driving into you with relentless force, his breath hot against your skin, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You were losing yourself to him, the pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, every whispered curse and growl pulling you further into the abyss of raw, unfiltered lust.

“I hate how much I want you,” Chuuya hissed, his voice ragged with need. “I hate how fucking good you feel… how your walls tighten around my cock—ahh fuckkk.”

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into you with desperate intensity as he chased his own release, dragging you along with him. You could feel the tension building in your core, your body coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, you did. The orgasm surged through you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and gasping for air.

Chuuya wasn't far behind, his own release following seconds later as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot ribbons of cum shots. He held you close, his body shuddering against yours as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the harsh, ragged breathing of the two of you, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Chuuya stayed inside you for a moment longer, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

When he finally pulled out, you both were left panting and spent, your bodies trembling with the aftermath of your intense orgasm.

he didn't waste a moment. With a swift motion, he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you onto one of the crates. The cold metal pressed against your hot bare skin.

Before you could catch your breath, he reached up to his neck, unfastening the choker that adorned his neck. Without a word, he grabbed your wrists and wrapped the choker around them, securing it tightly before locking you against another one of the crates behind you.

A wicked grin spread across his face as he dropped to his knees, his eyes dark with hunger while he looked up at you. He spread your thighs wider, his gaze fixed on your glistening core. The sight of you, flushed and dripping with the evidence of your shared passion, seemed to drive him wild. He leaned in, and just as his lips brushed your sensitive skin, he muttered, "Give me another one, I'm not letting you leave without drawing every tiny bit of you sweet cum."

Then, his mouth was on you, hot and relentless. You gasped as his tongue traced a path along your plush folds, teasing, tasting, savouring the mix of you and him. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you in place as he delved deeper, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made your head spin.

“Chuuya…t‘ much” you moaned as your hips bucked against his mouth despite your overstimulation. The sound of your own voice, desperate and breathless, echoed in the small room, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the incredible sensation of Chuuya’s tongue, expertly working you towards another peak.

He hummed in delight, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core. His tongue moved with precision now, alternating between soft, teasing licks and deep, penetrating thrusts that left you a trembling mess. He knew exactly how to push you to the brink, then pull back just enough to leave you aching for more.

“Fuck, you taste even better like this,” he growled against your flesh, his voice low and rough, filled with raw desire. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, before capturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching off the crate as you cried out in pleasure.

“please Chuu—ahh…” you let out a lewd moan, your voice hitching with every flick of his tongue. The need for release was a burning ache in your core, your body trembling as the pressure built higher and higher.

Chuuya’s grip tightened on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh as he held you in place. “I want to taste every drop of you. I'm not stopping until you come all over my face.”

His words, coupled with the relentless attention he lavished on your clit as you gasped, your body arching against the restraint as you instinctively pushed yourself against his hot tongue. The crate you were bound to groaned under the pressure, and with a sharp pull, it slid forward, causing a cascade of bottles to crash to the ground. The noise was loud, shattering the stillness of the room as glass broke all around you.

The impact sent you both tumbling to the floor, your body landing hard against the cold concrete. The crate you were tied to was now stuck between the wall and a stack of other crates, trapping your stretched arms above your head in a makeshift prison. For a brief moment, panic flashed through you, but Chuuya didn’t pause. It was as if the crash had only fueled his desire.

He growled, as you flinched and tried to push yourself upward, worried that you might have hurt him or that the situation was getting out of control. But he had none of it. His grip on your hips was iron-tight, and with a fierce pull, he dragged you back down to meet his hot wet mouth once again.

“Don’t even fuckin’ think about moving away,” he hissed roughly. His breath was hot against your sensitive clit as he resumed his assault, his tongue thrusting deep inside you, tasting every inch of your dripping core.

You were helpless to do anything but succumb to the overwhelming sensation. The position was awkward, your wrists still bound to the crate, but it only seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment. The cold floor pressed against your bare legs as Chuuya feasted on you like a man starved, completely pussy drunk, lost in the taste and feel of you.

Your body trembled with each flick of his tongue, and despite the crash and the chaos around you, all you could focus on was the incredible pleasure he was giving you. Your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as you tugged against your restraints, needing to touch him, to feel his soft ginger locks between your fingers, to touch his utterly hot body.

Your vision blurred, your body straining as the coil of pleasure tightened in your core. “Chuu… please d-don't stop… ” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

Chuuya pulled you up slightly, roughly guiding you to straddle his lap. You were positioned over him, your knees planted on the floor as you faced him. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Without missing a beat, too overwhelming by your approaching orgasm you roughly sank onto his hard cock with a moan, feeling the intensity of his renewed desire. His cock was impossibly hard again—his third time getting erect tonight, as if he hadn't felt this kind of craving in years.

“Yess haah fuck yes doll... hmm take it, just like that,” he growled, his voice a low rasp. You began to move, riding him with a fervor, squeezing the life out of his thick cock with every thrust.

His cock pulsed inside you, and you could feel every throb as you moved with the crate still precariously lodged above your head and your hands bound, you were completely at his mercy.

"Fuck— I can't get enough of this" he gasped.

His words were a mere backdrop to the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you. Each grind was powerful, driving you to the brink of madness. His grip on your hips was possessive, pulling you down onto him with a force that made every motion even more intense.

Your legs trembled, muscles aching from the effort, as if you'd just finished a strenuous leg workout. He let out a shaky chuckle, feeling the quiver of your legs against his skin.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted up a bit thrusting fast enough to make the crates shake, the remaining bottles crashing to the floor. The chaos around you seemed to enhance the wild energy between you. His hands moving to pull you down harder onto him, continuing his relentless assault on your now sore and overstimulated cunt.

You could feel the pressure building within you. The room was filled with the sounds of your desperate moans and Chuuya’s heavy breaths and lewd moans, the chaotic noise of broken bottles and the groaning crate only adding to the fevered atmosphere.

“Chuu—aaah fuck fuck fuck-” you gasped, your voice cracking as you struggled to keep control.

his hands tightening on your hips as he forced you down harder onto him. “Come all over fuckin’ my cock doll ah-,” he demanded roughly with his raspy voice cracking.

The combination of his unrelenting thrusts and the intense friction made your vision blur. You could feel the coiling pressure in your core reaching its peak once again, your body straining and trembling with need. The final push came when Chuuya’s movements grew more erratic, his grip on you tightening as he thrust into you with a force.

“Fuck fuck yes yes fuck me hard like that— don't stop please” you cried out, your voice breaking as the wave of orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered violently, the intense pleasure overwhelming every sense. The sensation of release seemed to go on forever, each pulse of your orgasm made your ears muffle with intense.

Chuuya wasn’t far behind. The moment he felt your juicies coat his rock-hard cock and drip onto the concrete beneath you both, he let out a loud lewd moan. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside you, each powerful spasm forcing him into an explosive climax. His grip on your hips tightened as he filled you with a forceful bursts of his cum, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

Chuuya, breath still heavy, fixed you with a wicked grin. “Seems like you could use a bit of help,” he said, his voice raspy from the intensity.

With a casual flick of his hand, he activated his gravity ability, and you felt the familiar shift in weightlessness and the red glow blinding your blurry eyes as your body was lifted off the ground. You gasped in surprise, feeling a thrill of anticipation as he gently guided you back onto the crate.

He carefully manoeuvred you into a sitting position on the crate. His touch is probably the best thing you've ever experienced in your entire life. As he adjusted you. His choker, which had been used to bind your wrists, was now in his hands. He unfastened it with deliberate, methodical movements, freeing you from the constraints.

“Better?” he asked, his tone a playful tease.

You nodded, catching your breath as you settled back onto the crate. The initial shock of the gravity shift had left you momentarily disoriented, but Chuuya’s presence was surprisingly comforting. He looked at you with a soft gaze, taking in your fuck-out appearance and the satisfied glow in your half-lidded eyes.

Chuuya’s smirk softened into a rare, genuine smile as he helped you off the crate, guiding you as you clambered down, the aftershocks of your climax still making your legs tremble slightly. His eyes remained locked on you, full of a possessive warmth.

"Careful now," he said, his voice soft but tinged with a lingering edge of command. "Don't want you falling over after all that."

You managed a shaky smile, feeling the rush of adrenaline and pleasure slowly ebbing away. Chuuya's hands were gentle as he helped you steady yourself, his touch tender despite the fierce passion that had just unfolded.

"Thanks," you breathed, finally finding your footing. "I didn't expect... well, this."

He chucked moving with a practiced ease as he pulled his pants up. He adjusted his belt, fastening it with a flick of his wrist and adjusting his choker around his neck.

You carefully buttoned up your shirt smoothing out any wrinkles trying to regain some semblance of composure, Chuuya leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against your ear. “This changes nothing,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “I still hate you.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, trying to stifle a smile. There was no heat in his voice, only a lingering tension that promised this wouldn’t be the last time you found yourselves in such a situation.

Despite his dismissive tone, Chuuya moved with surprising gentleness as he helped you out of the cramped storage room. His hands, wrapped around your waist guiding you carefully, ensuring you didn’t stumble as you both made your way back into the dimly lit corridor.

As you approached the elevator, you whispered, “Never doing this again.”

Chuuya chuckled, a low, amused sound that echoed in the quiet space. “Yeah, never,” he agreed, his tone laced with irony.

But deep down, both of you knew the truth. The words were merely a facade, a way to mask the undeniable reality that this—whatever this was—would indeed happen again. And again. And again.

NOTE: Hi, hi, my lovely pookies!! Since this fic won the poll voting, I started by publishing it first. The next one will be published *finger crossed* maybe by next Friday? if not before then, also I wanted to take a moment to thank you for all of your lovely comments and sweet feedbacks Xx. P.s : chuuya’s photo credit to @pigon_51 on Twitter / X.

➵Want more of Chuuya Nakahara?

©2024 @thewickedjazzy ─── please do not copy, translate, or post on any platform.

[annievrse]

the secret of us

chuuya x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: mori makes an unfortunate discovery w/c: 1.5k c/w: nsfw [mdni!!] (nothing too explicit just heavy petting & slight dry humping), secondhand embarrassment lol

"What am I going to do with the two of you?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Elise giggle, and you roll your eyes. You stay silent, and through sheer will, so does Chuuya.

"This is highly inappropriate, especially for two of my best executives," Mori sighs, rubbing his forehead. Your boss looks annoyed and flustered, considering the situation he just found you in. "Imagine if it was one of your subordinates."

"I would've told them to enjoy the show," Chuuya mumbles. Mori shoots him a disapproving look, and you shake your head without looking at him, trying your hardest to suppress a smile.

Half an Hour Earlier...

"Nakahara," You greet, stepping into the main meeting room at the Port Mafia base. You hold up a folder when he looks up from the table, surrounded by his subordinates.

Chuuya's eye glints when he says your name back. Then he turns to his inferiors, and his face morphs into a scowl. "Get out."

They all rush out around you, some tripping over their feet but all refusing to look you in the eye.

When the door finally closes, Chuuya flicks his hand out, the lock on the door turning.

"Got a report to give me, doll?" He teases, spreading his legs wide and patting his lap. "C'mere."

You twist your lips to stop a shy smile from breaking and walk toward him.

"Maybe," You say. "Maybe not."

The way he sits is intimidating, and if you hadn't known him for so long, you'd be scared of him. His chunky boots are on display, thanks to the hem of his pants rising. Your eyes flicker to his arms crossed over his chest, his lean biceps visible through the white material of his dress shirt. He must've removed his coat halfway through the meeting with his faction. And then your gaze drifts to his face. He wears a knowing smirk, and his blue eyes gleam in the setting sun through the large window. His hair looks particularly red in the warm light, and you want to brush the stray strands off his face.

Chuuya hums and guides your hips to sit on his lap. His gloved fingers are hot through the fabric of your pants, and you're sure your suit is going to burn off your body any second.

You place the folder on the table and shift so you're straddling his thighs.

He nods at the plastic sleeve lazily. "What's it about?"

You shrug. "Boss wanted me to bring it to you."

Chuuya nods and runs his hands up your thighs. You tuck his loose hair behind his ears, pushing some off his forehead.

"Quit that," He mumbles but makes no effort to move. You shake your head and brush your thumbs over his cheekbones. He says your name with a warning.

"Yes?" You ask, a smile on your face. Leaning forward, you press your lips against his forehead, then his cheeks, leaving red lipgloss marks in your path.

Chuuya scoffs in reply. "Brat."

You gape at him teasingly. "That's no way to talk to me."

"I guess you're right," He says, grabbing onto your ass before standing up and sitting you on the table. You bite your tongue to stop the yelp that climbs your throat at his sudden movement. "Guess I have to make it up to you."

"I guess you do." You exhale sharply when you feel his gloveless hands under your shirt. When did he take those off?

Chuuya's fingers dance on your back as you pull him closer by his bolo tie. Between your thighs, he presses himself against you, and you know you've teased him enough. Your legs circle around his hips, and you bring his face closer. Chuuya meets you halfway, lips crushing in a searing kiss. You lift your hands to his hair and slide his hat off, tossing it somewhere in the room.

Before he can pull away and complain or lecture you about the hat's intricate details, you find yourself breathing heavily from your nose as you exchange open-mouthed kisses. It’s hard and hungry, and soon, your coat is on the floor, your shirt following.

“Off,” You mutter against his lips, your fingers grasping his waist before fisting the material of his shirt and tugging it. “This needs to come off.”

"Where's your manners?" Chuuya snarls before pulling it over his head so there's no chance for you to break the buttons. He's replaced so many.

You don't reply, barely hearing him as you run your hands down his lean torso. Chuuya leans over you and pushes you gently onto the table. The wood is cold on your back, and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring his lips to yours.

He rubs his crotch against yours, and the delicious size of him makes you moan into his mouth. You tighten your thighs around him; the friction is so good it's almost painful.

"Fuck, doll..." Chuuya groans back, his fingers playing with the clasp on your bra.

You're so lost in your own mind and Chuuya's touch that you don't hear the lock turning and the door opening.

It's not until someone clears their throat and the breeze from the hallway causes goosebumps to gloss your skin that you're jumping up. You nearly headbutt Chuuya as you do so, arms retracting from his shoulders to cover your chest.

"The fuck?..." Chuuya spits, but his face drains when he sees who is at the door. "Boss—"

"Get dressed," Mori sighs. "My office."

And then he leaves, the shadow of him still lingering in the doorway as you button up your shirts in silence.

"Bets on whose getting fired first?" You say, picking up Chuuya's hat and putting it on your head.

"Shut it," He snaps, and you see the anger and lust in his eyes. Anger at Mori for barging in unannounced like this meeting room was your bedroom. Lust for obvious reasons. The sight makes you giggle.

"I hope he doesn't keep us long, I actually have a meeting at 5." Chuuya side-eyes you as you leave the room, pointedly ignoring your comment.

"Oh!" You pause in the hallway before Mori's office and turn to your boyfriend. "C'mere."

"Why?" His face screws up in irritation. And when you start wiping his cheeks, his face flushes red. "You just had to do that, didn't you?"

You tilt your head, wiping the last remnants of your lipgloss from his skin. "You're pretty."

Chuuya scowls and lets you kiss his cheek. "Let's get this over with."

Now...

Mori covers his face with his hands. "You know what this could mean for both of you if this gets out. Yes?"

Dread pours over your body like hot oil. Nodding, you glance at your boyfriend. His previous devilish look is gone, and in its place is carefully constructed fear that took you almost seven years to detect.

"It means," Mori says, assuming you and Chuuya don't know exactly what he's implying. "If anyone outside the PM finds out, they could use you against each other. Which is something this organisation doesn't need."

"Nobody knows," You blurt, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress pants. "We've told nobody about this."

Mori raises an eyebrow. "And how long has nobody known?"

If you'd been hiding this for no longer than a month, maybe you'd get out of this fine. Maybe Mori would understand and send you on your way unscathed. Maybe.

"Since we were sixteen."

Mori's mouth opens just a centimetre before he closes it again. He's stunned you've been able to keep this under wraps for so long. "Six years?"

"We are 22, yes?" You ask with a sickly sweet smile on your face. It's dangerous getting smart with the boss, but you're beyond uncomfortable and want to leave as soon as possible. You feel Chuuya's eyes burning a hole in the side of your face for being so careless.

"I see," Mori mumbles, ignoring the hysterical giggles coming from Elise. "Very well."

You raise your eyebrows at the lack of response. Chuuya visibly relaxes beside you.

"There's no way to punish you for this unprofessional behaviour, but if it's not affecting the organisation's function or your relationship with your subordinates, I don't care."

"But," Mori continues, his eye getting that authoritative glint. "You'll be assigned different missions from now on. There is to be no contact out on the field. Am I clear?"

"Dammit," Chuuya curses. "Are you kidding?"

"Yes, sir," You nod.

"Boss, that's bullshit, and you know it."

Mori ignores Chuuya and goes back to his paperwork. Your boyfriend huffs in frustration. The tension in the room pushes down on you, and when Mori dismisses you, clearly uncomfortable, you hurry out behind Chuuya, who takes his time opening the door and leaving.

Once outside, you grab Chuuya's shoulders and turn him around to find him wearing his usual smirk. He's pushed down the new rule for missions, but you know what he will say before it leaves his lips.

"You're not going to your meeting."

[opulent-valkyrie]

Request/idea!

Established relationship with reader taking care of Chuuya after corruption. Like Dazai takes Chuuya to his penthouse to be taken care of by reader instead of the extraction point because Dazai knows Chuuya would be more comfortable with reader than in the pm hospital/medical bay (*cough* stormbringer *cough* *cough*)

Just like cute fluff where Chuuya is tense around reader because he's so vulnerable until eventually he relaxes when he realizes reader isn't leaving or gonna hurt him

Oh god YES

Chuuya x reader

(established relationship)

The soft glow of the evening lights filled the penthouse, casting long shadows across the quiet room. Outside, the city buzzed faintly, a contrast to the stillness inside. You stood by the bed, looking down at Chuuya, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion, his breathing deep and slow. He was out cold—completely unconscious after pushing himself too far in battle, having using Corruption again.

Dazai had brought him here instead of to the Port Mafia’s medical bay, knowing that Chuuya would be more comfortable in your care than surrounded by cold hospital walls. It had been a quiet exchange—no teasing remarks, no sarcastic barbs. Just a mutual understanding between you and Dazai that Chuuya needed this (i made dazai responsible/sensible 💀).

Now, standing over him, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry despite knowing he’d recover. You gently brushed his damp hair away from his forehead, feeling the faint warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. He looked so different when he was like this—so vulnerable, so unlike the fierce, unyielding man you knew. The one who stood tall (yes i did this on purpose 🦖) , who commanded respect with every word, every movement.

Sighing softly, you sat down on the edge of the bed, your fingers trailing along his arm. He didn’t stir, completely lost in the deep sleep that always followed his use of Corruption. You hated seeing him like this—not because he was weak, but because you knew how much he hated being seen this way. Vulnerability was something Chuuya rarely allowed, and you knew he fought against it even in unconsciousness.

“You always push yourself too hard,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. “You don’t have to… not with me.”

The words hung in the air, but they were more for you than for him. You knew Chuuya—knew that even if he could hear you now, he wouldn’t listen. He was stubborn like that, always trying to carry the weight of the world on his own.

You stayed like that for a while, your hand gently brushing over his chest, the sound of his breathing the only noise in the room. It was rare to see him like this—so still, so quiet. In these moments, he seemed almost fragile, and the thought of him waking up alone after such an ordeal tugged at your chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Chu,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with a quiet determination. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He didn’t respond—of course he didn’t—but as you settled beside him, you felt the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding slowly melt away. You knew that when he woke up, he’d still be the same Chuuya, sharp and biting, with walls built up so high it was a wonder anyone ever got through. But for now, in this quiet moment, there was peace.

And as you lay there beside him, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his hand, you knew that when he finally opened his eyes, you’d be right here. Just like always.

Timeskip

Chuuya stirred slightly, his breathing shifting as he started to emerge from the deep sleep that had held him for hours. You stayed still, your fingers still tracing light patterns on his hand, waiting for the moment he would fully wake up. You could tell he was still groggy, his mind pulling itself from the depths of exhaustion.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, the sharp blue softened with lingering fatigue. His gaze shifted to you, and for a moment, confusion flickered in his eyes—like he wasn’t sure if you were really there. But then, recognition settled, and his usual tension melted away.

“[Y/N]...” he muttered, his voice rough, barely more than a rasp. His hand instinctively tightened around yours, a quiet reassurance that he was here, that you were here, together. His lips curved into a small, tired smile, so different from the usual smirk he wore in public. This was Chuuya, stripped of all the fire and pride—just him, softer, vulnerable, but comfortable with you.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you replied quietly, a gentle smile pulling at your lips. “You really overdid it this time.”

Chuuya huffed softly, his usual bravado flickering, but the tiredness in his eyes betrayed him. “Tch… I’m fine,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his words. His free hand came up to cover his face for a second, as if trying to hide the weariness he couldn’t fully shake.

“Sure you are,” you teased lightly, leaning in just a little closer, your thumb gently brushing over his knuckles. “That’s why Dazai had to drag you here half-dead.”

He let out a low chuckle, but there was no anger behind it, just a quiet acceptance of his own limits. “That damn suicidal idiot…” He paused, lowering his hand from his face to meet your gaze again, and something in his expression softened even more. “He knew you’d take better care of me than anyone else would.”

You smiled at that, warmth spreading through you at the quiet admission. “He’s not wrong, you know. Though I’ve got half a mind to yell at you for pushing yourself so hard.”

Chuuya sighed, his eyes closing for a moment as he allowed himself to sink further into the comfort of your presence. “You wouldn’t be the first,” he murmured, his voice low but filled with that gentle warmth that he reserved only for you. He shifted slightly, moving closer to you as if seeking more of your warmth, his hand still firmly holding yours. “But… I’m glad it’s you here. Always.”

There was something different in his tone—a vulnerability that Chuuya rarely allowed himself to show. His guard was down, and in this quiet moment, he wasn’t the powerful mafia executive or the ruthless fighter. He was just Chuuya—your Chuuya.

You shifted closer, gently resting your forehead against his. “I’m not going anywhere, Chuuya. You know that, right?”

His eyes opened, locking with yours, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. But the way his hand tightened around yours, the way his body relaxed against you, told you everything. He didn’t need to say it—he trusted you completely. And that trust, that vulnerability, was something he rarely gave to anyone.

“I know,” he whispered finally, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I just… sometimes I need to be reminded.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling him relax completely against you. “Well, I’m always here to remind you.”

Chuuya’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing once more. “Good,” he mumbled, the tension in his body gone now, replaced with a rare calm. “Because I’m not letting you go either.”

And with that, the two of you sat in the quiet of the room, his hand in yours, as Chuuya finally allowed himself to rest—safe in the knowledge that you weren’t going anywhere.

[chocsra]

✧ STORMBRINGER CHUUYA AS YOUR GUY BSF IS ....

✧ w/c: 588 ✧ content: drabbles & headcanons of cute things with stormbringer! chuuya

☆ a shocked yet distasteful groan pulling from his throat when you show him a picture of a celebrity you find cute, grumbling about how your taste in men sucks ass. you didn't think he was jealous, just shocked at the creature he was looking at. though sometimes, you barely graze the envy on his face when you actually interact with another boy; especially if he's your type, because chuuya knows. still, he brushes your friendly smile with stupidity—because the dude you're talking with 'isn't even all that.'

☆ like having an annoyed caretaker, always keeping an eye out for you, rebuking your recklessness. just appalled that you have this much carelessness for your life on a day to day basis. but even though he'd scold you gently for anything stupid or clumsy you pull, you'd always find a gloved hand reaching out to you, providing support. either when you've stumbled, or you're about to jump off a ledge from even the smallest of heights.

☆ falling face first into the ground whilst trying to fight off one of the port mafia's powerful enemies because your shoelaces were untied. humilated, you found yourself sitting on a bench as chuuya unashamedly scolds you for your rookie mistake. knelt down as he still ties your shoes. "do you double knot your laces?" he'll ask, if you already said yes, the boy would finish one shoe with a tight squeeze, before gently patting your ankle to lace the other one, "well you better start triple knottin' em!"

☆ late night calls about the silliest things. chuuya would have his camera on in his pajamas, either mindlessly fiddling with his guitar, doing some chores, or cooking simply out of boredom. he'd rant about his day, the jewel marketing circulation, this crazy fuck named 'dazai', how much he admires his superior—kouyou, and his friends which call themselves 'the flags'. in return, you can tell him all the school gossip you've picked up on, new music you caught onto, your rants in your notes app.

☆ exchanging knowing side glances at each other when someone's being annoying or a dumb fuck. it's the kind of look two sassy girls would stare at each other with a secret disdain for the person in front of them.

☆ chuuya keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you and him only. at first, it was extra incase he lost his own hair tie, but soon, if you ever needed one, he always keeps extra on his wrist so you wouldn't have messy hair flying everywhere.

☆ taking unwanted photos of chuuya while he chases after you to delete them. sometimes, it'd be mid sneeze or the boy yawning carelessly. he definitely cares once you've did a close up shot where he looks like the epitome of a ginger leprechaun. he'd (try to) snatch your phone and now gives you the stinkiest side eye when you even try to point your phone at him.

☆ unconsciously resting an arm behind your shoulders when you're both sitting side by side. for chuuya, it provides a comforting stretch for his arms, and it feels safer knowing that he can just manuver you if there was ever an unexpected attack. for you, the fact that he just does it so casually makes you a nervous wreck.

☆ believing wholeheartedly that he's human. afterall, you wouldn't feel this much adoration for a code of strings, no? you always internally chide him if he thinks otherwise, but as friends, you thought it's better to give him a comforting pat on the back.

✧ chocsra™

[remlionheart]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[tulipe-rose]

Weird theory came to mind, weird theory is written and posted. Author somewhat regrets it.

So... What if Katai gets put into the Port Mafia exchange? Hear me out on this--

The agreement never explicitly stated that it had to be a current member. Rampo being Rampo, would be easily capable of exploiting this loophole to have Katai recruited into the Mafia for some genius reason I probably may never have the brain power to conjure up. (Maybe it has to do with the fact that Dazai is still out of commission going after Fyodor. Idk man /⁠ᐠ｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\)

This exchange could be the start to a character arc for Katai, focusing on the moral turmoil he'll be facing there, given he despises the Port Mafia, and their methods with a burning passion. He's so resentful towards them, and I can only guess that Kunikida's ideals rubbed off on him in this aspect. Working amongst them must be his worst nightmare.

The sheer guilt of aiding such an organization would probably weigh heavily on Katai's conscience, feeling as though he betrayed everything he believed in the moment he, albeit reluctantly, agreed to take up the exchange. He knew the risks, but he knew why he was chosen, and why his participation was crucial. The Agency needed him now more than ever, and this is the safest course of action they could take, so he'll go in with a heavy heart. I can see his persona at work to be portrayed as "That one ghostly presence in the office no one wants to interact with outside of necessity."

I'm not sure whether or not he'd continue on his habit of being a shut in at his work place, solely for the fact that he'd probably feel uncomfortable staying there, but I can only guess. This exchange would be an excellent opportunity to finally give us more information on Kunikida's past, and his. What turned him into such a pessimist towards life? How did Kunikida find him? Was Kunikida always an idealist? What opened his eyes to it? I saw a couple of people saying that Kunikida was probably a delinquent, and honestly, I'm loving that.

Katai would eventually have to interact with his love at first sight, Gin; it might not be that big of an 'opportunity', and more of an 'obligation' in his eyes now that he knows the truth behind her identity. They'd start off with barely any words exchanged, the atmosphere a mix of awkward tension, and wish to get things done as quickly as possible. They'd be strictly professional, mostly due to the unsocial tendencies they harbour, and their interactions getting more, and more limited due to the fact that Katai's expertise, and rank, were more specialized due to his ability, and situation with the Mafia.

Gin might be a little too curt, but to her credit, his first impression on her was by far one of the most confusing moments of her life. They do somehow end up in a situation where they stay in close enough vicinity long enough to converse; this allowing them to share their perspectives (Gin wouldn't really say much, probably nothing beyond the fact that she joined to be with her brother.) Katai's views of the Mafia continue to stay dark, and he still believes that their actions are inexcusable, and his cooperation is solely for the benefit of the ADA, but his feelings towards Gin aren't conventionally that begrudged; she's now his coworker, and isn't necessarily doing him any harm.

Having the arc occur at the Mafia could be a very nice break from the heavy arc that preceded, but that opinion might be exclusive to me. (I'm also dying to know what happened to Tachihara and Jōnō; the lack of follow up is killing me.)

Now, let's switch over to the Agency's opinion on this.

Kunikida. God--

This entire exchange situation was a mess, and Kunikida was probably the most affected by it; if not more than Katai himself. He'd need to take a day off, absolute confusion clouding his senses, keeping him in the confines of his room to process the information he had to handle. The internal struggle, and sorrow of losing his closest friend, and comrade, to the Mafia of all people. His break wouldn't last long, but upon his return, everyone could tell that by the looks of it; this man did not have a moment of rest. The president gives Kunikida his time, but once he notices that this might end up in him spiraling into a loop; he decides to approach him. He'll give him a motivational speech, letting him in on the details, and the reason why it had to be Katai. (Katai could maybe send him a small secret message only they understand (secret childhood friend code), assuring him they'll get through it.)

If you're wondering why Mōri didn't object is, because Katai's ability is extremely useful, and works well in their line of work.

I'll just have you know that the only back up I have for this what if is that I thought it would be so hilarious, and unexpected.

[oompaloompadidu]

Hehehe dunno if I make rn request bc never did one but bsd with an artist reader???? (=ﾟωﾟ)ﾉ

Feel free to ignore :3

𝘽𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙜𝙨 (𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨) 𝙭 𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Characters: Chuuya, Dazai, Akutagawa, Gogol, Fyodor

CHUUYA:

He loves the fact that you're so passionate about something, and he also loves when you ask him to be a model for your paintings because it makes him feel important.

He started bringing you different flower every day once he discovered that you always train to paint them.

He has a lot of photos of your paintings or photos he took of you drawing and sketching on his phone and when he's drunk he shows them off with his subordinates rambling about how beautiful and good you are.

almost everoyone in the port mafia heard about you at least once.

He sometimes gives a look at your sketches even if you say you don't want him to. He's too curious to know what your next drawing will be.

DAZAI:

He thinks it's cute when you see something nice and instantly say "that would be so pretty as a painting!" (He usually takes a photo of it so that if you ever what to draw it later you can use it as a reference).

When he first found out you're an artist he asked you to draw his portrait (as an artist myself I can feel the annoyance y/n felt —like, it's so hard to make a good portrait why do you ask it INSTANTLY)

He brings you sketches (usually they look like they're made from a 5 years old child) he made for you to turn them into masterpieces. He usually keeps them all in a giant box that he calls "treasure box".

AKUTAGAWA:

He tries to hide the fact that he actually likes watching you work on your painting. Sometimes he stare at you for hours thinking you don't notice him.

He has a little painting you made for him on his desk.

He doesn't like it very much when you loose the sense of time because he has very little time to stay with you (ha must stay at the port mafia for a lot of time) and sometimes you forget to stay with him.

He forgive you anyway because he knows your job/hobby is important to you and he doesn't want you to see him as annoying.

GOGOL

He asks you to draw specific things (usually they're weird af but you accept anyway)

He likes when you paint birds

He started trying to draw to but he's terrible at it.

He puts music on when he see you painting because he likes annoying you singing loudly and distracting you to get your attention.

FYODOR

He plays the cello for you while you paint

He likes seeing you concentrated on something but he'll never tell you.

He's good at painting too so sometimes you exchange paintings each other.

He has a whole room with walls covered by your paintings.

You painted him a portrait once so since then he started training to draw a portrait of yours too but he's always busy so he doesn't have much time.

[starlightshadowsworld]

That one exchange from Dead Apple where Atsushi tells Akutugawa "that's not how we do things in the Detective Agency."

And Akutugawa responds with "is that a bad joke? Your too much Weretiger."

It's hilarious but it also makes me wonder what perception Akutugawa (and the rest of the Port Mafia have on the Agency.)

Because in essence this scene is just "we don't kill people" "ha sure you don't."

And if that's the case Akutugawa isn't wrong. The Agency aren't against killing people it's just that it's essentially a last resort. If they feel they need too they will.

Something Atsushi himself will realise throughout the movie as he ends it by killing Shibusawa.

Again.

But that doesn't mean Atsushi is wrong. What Akutugawa is proposing is to throw out other options and kill first. That's how he operates, but it absolutely is not how the Agency does.

Kinda hilarious that the Port Mafia doesn't know how the Agency operates though.

There's been that many (failed) raids and you've been feuding for 12 years. Not to mention both your Boss's know each other very well.

But nope no idea.

[aureatchi]

⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ SANTA TELL ME IF HE REALLY CARES ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, sigma

the pm is hosting a christmas party for yokohama! everyone is encouraged to bring a gift for the people they love…so what do the bsd men get you?

info. fem!reader. sm fluff. profanities from chuuya ofc LOL, them trying to outdo each other for you. pm hq has a rooftop floor here. implied reader is in the ada. wc. 3.1k

You walked inside the lavish lobby of the port mafia headquarters to be greeted by DAZAI, who immediately embraced you in his arms.

“Bella! You made it!” he exclaimed, pulling you in. You could feel the heat of his body warming you up, relieving you of the chilly weather outside.

“Of course, Osamu,” you giggled. “Wouldn’t want to miss something super special as this.”

Still trapping you in his hug, he led you down the hallway, one hand moving to playfully pat your head. Security guards parted to let the two of you through, entering the room where everyone was.

“So many people!” you exclaimed when you entered the headquarters’ formal dining hall decorated in Christmas festivities. Everyone was either chatting about or gathering by a table to get sweet desserts or hot chocolate.

“Want some hot chocolate to warm up, angel?” Dazai asked, looking towards the line.

“No thanks,” you replied. “You’ve warmed my heart up already.”

He gave you a smug smile in response, but you didn’t miss the light pink that also flushed his cheeks.

“Come over here.”

You followed Dazai as he made his way to a different table filled with wrapped presents and bags alike.

Dazai took one of them—the gift bag in your favorite color and handed it to you.

“For the gift exchange,” he smiled. “Merry Christmas, bella. I hope you like it.”

Your eyes lit up in joy, grateful and excited to see what he had gotten you. “Thank you!”

The first thing you pulled out of the bag was a custom heart pendant in your preferred metal—Dazai knew whether you liked silver or gold better. When you unclasped the locket, you saw matching pictures of you and Dazai inside, both bundled up in the snow. It was a good memory to look back at.

“This is so cute, Osamu.” You closed the locket and let the brunette place the jewelry around your neck.

“It looks even better on you.”

The second thing inside the bag was a box. Pulling it out, you saw that it was a Lego flower set.

“As much as you love flowers, they don’t last forever. However, these do!” You grinned widely at the thought and matching gift—Dazai always easily recalled your favorite things.

“We can build them together, too,” he continued, and you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love them. You’re amazing at getting gifts.”

“I wouldn’t expect that at all.” Your attention was brought to the ginger-haired who had his arms crossed beside the both of you, a cheeky grin on his face. CHUUYA had a mug of eggnog in his hand, though you knew for sure he’d rather have a glass of red wine reserved for the evening party instead.

“Chuuya!”

“What’s up, doll?” he smiled, a different, sweeter tone entirely, as he strode towards you.

“What do you mean by that?” Dazai asked, referring to Chuuya’s earlier comment.

“Thought your taste in gifts would be shitty, just like you,” he chuckled as you greeted him with a hug.

“Hey, that’s a bit rude,” you whispered.

“Oh really?” Dazai responded with his own sarcastic laugh. “I’m not sure you could do any better.”

“You really underestimate me! Come with me, baby…we’re going to prove to the-thing-that-comes-with-the-discounted-bandages who really knows what to get a lady for Christmas!”

Dazai stood, jaw dropped, dramatically offended as Chuuya pulled you away.

You two walked to the other side of the room, where there were even more gifts under one of the many Christmas trees in the hall.

“Bastard,” Chuuya sulked under a scowl, picking up a box wrapped in crimson red, his statement color.

You chuckled in amusement. He riled up so easily, over something so trivial. “Don’t worry about him, Chuu. I already know I’m going to like what you got.”

“Ya better,” he replied, but cheered up from your words. “Are you able to hold it?”

He handed you the box, hovering his arms below for support in case you dropped it. Though it was a larger package, it was still a bit heavier than you expected.

“Yeah, I got it.” You then raised an eyebrow. What could be inside this gift?

You set it down on the nearest table, undoing the pretty bow of ribbon and wrapping paper that kept the mystery intact.

Inside, you were received with a record player.

“Oh, wow!”

You loved music, and you’d always wanted to start collecting vinyls as it looked cool, but everyone knew it was an expensive hobby.

Not only had Chuuya gotten that—a very nice one, too—he also got the records of your top ten favorite albums.

You looked through the covers, smiling with each new one you saw.

Chuuya explained a few things—how he was setting you up for good because he made sure you got a turntable player instead of a suitcase one, how you should replace the black slip mat with the white one he bought instead so your vinyls look prettier, how to not damage the records…you could hardly pay attention to him though because you were overjoyed at how thoughtful he was for that.

“You seem passionate. Do you collect them too?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to research to find something good enough for you.”

You could feel your heart melt. He had really spent time picking this out after you’d only mentioned you finding record players vintage and cool twice, and you’d never even pointed out you’d want it as a gift.

“Thank you, Chuuya,” you said, leaning towards him, burying your face in his neck. “I love it…especially how you recall my favorite albums, too.”

“Of course doll,” he replied, running his hands through your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You could’ve stayed like that, but your little moment with the port mafia executive was ruined when Chuuya glanced over at one of the snack tables to find all the food had just disappeared.

“Now what the fuck?”

You followed, looking at what he was looking at. Then, you realized the man standing by the table with a piece of cake—the last piece of cake.

RANPO caught your gaze and jumped, hyper from all the sugar he consumed. “There you are!” He ran towards you and shoved you on the ground, away from Chuuya.

“Hey man, what the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted in annoyance.

Ranpo acknowledged the ginger-haired only then, looking up from where he had you suffocating in his arms. “Huh? Oh, sorry, didn’t see ya there.”

Chuuya grew even more infuriated at the provoke.

“You tryna pick a fight?”

“You still want to after knowing how last time turned out?”

Ranpo was referring to their last encounter, where Chuuya had embarrassingly lost against him from a single blow. But you didn’t need to know that.

So, Chuuya used all his willpower to keep silent under an outraged glare as he watched Ranpo drag you away to make sure he didn’t bring up any details about it.

“I got you a gift too!” Ranpo exclaimed as you walked back towards where the other agency members were hanging out. “Wanna guess what it is?”

“Hm…some sort of treat, that’s for sure,” you replied.

“Partly correct!” he replied. “That’s not all that I got you though.”

“Oh? How generous!”

“No!” his response was stern. “A princess like you deserves more…as the world’s greatest detective, noone would know that better than me.”

You smiled. “You’re right, Ranpo.”

With that, he handed you one of the cutest gift baskets you’ve seen. The actual basket was snowman-themed, and inside was everything you wanted that could fit in it—that pajama set you had in your online shopping cart, the new skincare products you’ve wanted to try, your favorite candle—you hadn’t even ever mentioned it to him before. And, of course, a lot of chocolate. Of course, Ranpo would also be the best gift-buyer, using his knowledge to his advantage.

The one thing that really stood out to you, though, was a jar of Hershey kisses, with a note on it that said:

KISSES WHEN I’M NOT AROUND.

It even had a chibi-fied face of the cute brunette on it.

“This is my favorite thing in this gift,” you said.

“Of course, because I know you always miss me when I’m not there to kiss,” Ranpo confidently stated. “Which is why I came up with a solution! They’ll never be as sweet as me, but it works.”

You laughed in delight. It was a very creative idea. “This is amazing; thank you, Ranpo!”

Never knowing how to respond to thankfulness directly, he answered it with something else. “Hey, there’s something on your nose.”

“Really?” You moved a hand to feel what was on there, but Ranpo grabbed your wrist to prevent you. Instead, he bopped your nose with his lips.

“There was frosting,” he said, probably from when he excitedly greeted you earlier.

“You enjoyed those desserts, huh?” you asked, glancing at the depleted table once again.

“Yup! It was just lying there, and noone said anything about how much you could take, so…!” He paused, trying to remember something.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

…

You chatted with agency and port mafia members alike a while after. Everyone was having a good time, even when Chuuya started bickering with Dazai and challenged him to a duel.

“Shithead!

“Mackerel!”

“How about you talk once you grow another two inches?”

As everyone was being entertained by Chuuya breaking an entire wall by throwing Dazai through it, your eyes were distracted by an elaborate bouquet of roses and baby breaths that you hadn’t noticed before.

Curious because it wasn’t by any other gifts, you left the crowd to inspect it.

You were surprised when you picked the arrangement up and saw that it was addressed to your name on a note. However, there was no name to say who it was from.

You looked around to see if anyone was nearby that could’ve placed the flowers there. But everyone else was watching the fight.

You flipped the note over, seeing a sketch of an elevator and a four-number code on the back.

An elevator?

You scanned the hall once again. The only elevator there was the one at the corner, restricted to the port mafia. The guests weren’t allowed to use it, and a security pad was guarding it.

You hesitated but then decided to approach the door. If someone gave you the code they wanted and were permitting you to use it, right?

Once again, no one protested because they were all distracted watching Chuuya on the ceiling, making sure Dazai couldn’t touch him. You pressed the four numbers into the pinpad and were congratulated with a correct ding! sound and the elevator sliding open.

You stepped inside and realized there was only one button—to go up. You pressed it, and the doors closed, moving you up.

Luxurious as always, the elevator had a glass window, the entire city of Yokohama coming into view as you went higher. A few seconds in, you realized that the elevator wasn’t going to stop until you reached the top.

You still weren’t sure who had mysteriously invited you to meet them. You hoped it wasn’t the boss—the doctor in charge creeped you out, if you were being honest. But you figured it couldn’t be him because he was also downstairs, chilling with the agency’s president.

Your heartbeat raced as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, adrenaline surging in anticipation of the surprise, coupling with the chilly breeze outside. You had reached the rooftop.

“You’re so easy to tempt; those flowers drew you in faster than a blind mouse to a piece of cheese laid in a trap.”

You smiled as you heard the foreign accent of the person near the edge riddle you while admiring the entire city below. “Hi, Fedya.”

FYODOR turned around, violet eyes meeting yours.

“I should’ve known.” Of course, the enigma was him—conundra was the Russian’s signature.

“How in the world did you even get here?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. He always had his ways to infiltrate anywhere—through deception, through hacking, anything goes.

“I invited ourselves,” he smirked, and only then did you notice his two subordinates on the other side, one in fear as the other tried to trip him over the ledge. “Didn’t want to miss out on the gift-giving either.”

Fyodor took out a jewelry box. “I hardly get to see you. So I thought to get you something that you could wear everyday.

“And this one is special, to remind you of my presence even more.” He opened it, revealing a bracelet, and like Dazai, he also knew what color jewelry suited you best. It was nothing too showy—it was simple, but it was classy, timeless, just like him.

And you noticed what made it special. There was no clasp. It was made to be welded on the person’s wrist—a forever bracelet.

“Choose wisely,” Fyodor said as you looked in awe. “Which wrist, milaya?”

You quickly contemplated and held out one of your wrists towards him as he took out tweezers and a small laser. You watched as he delicately fastened the bracelet around your arm, making sure it sat on your wrist perfectly.

“Finished, fine with it?” he asked when he was done, and you lifted your hand toward the horizon.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” you responded candidly. Then, Fyodor lifted up his own sleeve under his coat, revealing a matching one. You were almost stunned, because you didn’t think he would be the type to wear anything other than a necklace.

“Merry Christmas, dorogaya,” he softly said, pressing you against his chest in a hug.

“WAIT, WAIT! Dove, there’s still me! Don’t seal away your heart just yet!”

“Huh?” You both turned towards NIKOLAI, who kindly but quickly moved Fyodor away from you.

The next thing you knew, there were foil snowman and reindeer balloons in your hand, white confetti popped over you, acting as snow, and the jester standing in front of you presenting a large gift.

“To be honest, I’m scared,” you admitted, knowing his chaotic, playful nature.

“Why?” he giggled. “Think I’m going to scare ya, baby? You can take my word, there’s no jumpscares in this one.”

“You better not be lying,” you said and removed the lid of the black box that reminded you of a magician’s top hat.

And he was being truthful because you were greeted with the exact opposite of remarkable. He had gifted you plain, white socks.

“Wow, Kolya. I never even knew you were capable of being mundane.”

He laughed once again as he just set the box in front of you, not saying anything more as you stared at him in confusion.

You took the socks out. Surely, there was a catch. He was acting too suspicious. And the entire gift was odd. You found nothing tampered with on the socks, though. And there was nothing else in the box. So why was it so big? And why did it look deeper than where the bottom stopped?

You nervously looked at Nikolai before sticking both hands in. You felt your way around the level until you realized the entire package floor felt like paper machete, something used in piñatas and things like that.

By instinct, you lifted a fist and punched through the box. You immediately punctured through the false bottom, uncovering your true gift.

He celebrated. “Smart girl!”

There was an assortment of plushies—many of them. You always asked Nikolai to help you get some whenever you found claw machines at amusement parks, so he knew you loved stuffed animals.

Then, there was a large, fluffy throw blanket, perfect for winter.

“I got that because I know you’re probably so cold when I’m not hugging you.” True. Nikolai encapsulated you like a blanket whenever he came over.

“The thought of having this didn’t even cross my mind,” you said. “Well, that goes for everything you do,” you chuckled.

“That was really creative; I love it, thank you!”

Nikolai popped more confetti, this time in pink hearts. “She loves it! Happy, happy Christmas!”

He swung you off the ground, spinning you with ease until your own head started spinning the opposite way.

“Gogol! I think she’s dizzy!”

The two-tone-haired casino owner had a concerned look on his face, and you couldn’t tell if it was because your eyes were unfocusing or because Nikolai was throwing you around so easily. Strong guy.

Nikolai stopped, realizing he had gotten too excited. “Sorry, dove! Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you responded, unable to keep your balance as you tripped over yourself. You landed on SIGMA’s torso, and he helped guide you to stand up properly again.

“Thanks, Sigma,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, now that I get to see you again.” He lightly blushed, breaking eye contact as you smiled. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“I got you something as well,” he replied, showing his own present. “I’m not sure what the people downstairs got you, and mine isn’t as fancy as Dostoevsky’s nor as extraordinary as Gogol’s, but I hope you like it.”

You felt warm, even in the icy weather. “Awh, just hearing that you got something for me is more than enough,” you replied. “I am so grateful no matter what.”

You took the present and opened it, first greeted by a new set of poker cards. However, this one was different because when you sifted through them, you realized it was the Decay of Angel’s custom set. You had been wowed by Nikolai’s Joker and Fyodor’s Jack when you first saw them, always using the set when you played a game with others.

But there was also a new addition to this stack. You were on it, taking your place as the queen.

“What? Sigma, this is so cool!”

There was one more thing inside. Your favorite lipstick in your favorite shade.

Sigma loved the color and even more how it looked on you. He loved how his cheeks would stain whenever you kissed him there—the pigmented contrast to his paler skin. You hardly needed restocking as you loved the lipstick yourself, but it was always good to have another extra.

“Merry Christmas,” Sigma said as you opened the container and swatched it on your face. You looked as beautiful as ever.

“Merry Christmas, Sigma,” you responded, kissing his forehead. Then, you pulled a cookie wrapped in a napkin from inside your coat and placed it in his mouth.

“Saved it for you,” you giggled. “There’s a lot downstairs. Maybe they’ll let you guys in if I say I invited you. Well, at least you.”

i heard if u rb, u will receive x2 gifts this xmas from ur favs! reblogs are appreciated; they are your christmas gift to me! <3

tags : @kissesmellow21

© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + heart lights divider by benkeibear.

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ SUBSTITUTE BIG BROTHER. platonic pm!dazai & reader !

synopsis. dazai is reduced to his lowest form: babysitter for chuuya's sibling. contents. PLATONIC. chuuya's younger sibling!reader. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. fluff. 1.9k words. notes. dazai gets some fluff, as a treat. and as an apology for the amount of pain i am putting him through with the next thing in my drafts. ALSO this is an old, completed draft and was my first time writing dazai so apologies for any mischaracterization.

“You’re kidding me.” Dazai said dryly, staring at the kid before him. They met his gaze with a fiery glare, daring him to continue.

“Do you have something to say?” they snapped. Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Go on, spit it out.”

“I’m only wondering how that yappy little dog’s precious sibling managed to escape their kennel,” Dazai hummed, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards as they began to protest. They sounded just as furious as their brother; the resemblance amused him immensely. “Aren’t you supposed to be… anywhere but here?”

The question was out of courtesy more than anything; Dazai knew the answer very well. Chuuya was tight-lipped about almost every aspect of his life that wasn’t intertwined with the Port Mafia, but his sibling was one detail that Dazai had managed to squeeze out. It wasn’t voluntary, mind you. It was more that Chuuya was explaining his life before the Mafia to Kouyou during one of their evenings drinking tea together, and Dazai had started eavesdropping at the right moment.

When he casually dropped their name during a conversation a week later, Chuuya has gone still for only a moment, before shoving him against the nearest wall and holding a knife to his throat.

“How the fuck do you know about them?” Chuuya had hissed.

Dazai wheezed, for once caught off guard. He’d been expecting Chuuya to react emotionally, but the idea that he would resort to murder within seconds had somehow slipped his mind. “Perhaps Chuuya shouldn’t leave the door open if he doesn’t want his conversations being overheard. I’m sure Ane-san would agree, it was her conversation too.”

Chuuya turned white. His grip loosened, and Dazai slipped away from his grasp. “Shit.”

“Mhm!” Dazai said in a singsong voice, readjusting his collar. “So, tell me about them. How old are they?”

“I’m not talking to you about them, you bastard.” Chuuya tucked his knife away, shoving past Dazai with far more force than was necessary.

“Oh, come on,” Dazai whined childishly, but there was a dark glint in his eyes. “Would you prefer to talk to Boss about them?”

Chuuya’s face turned the prettiest shade of red. “You wouldn’t dare—”

“Of course, Chuuya wouldn’t keep such a key detail of his life hidden away for no reason.” Dazai interrupted. “And maybe I could find it in myself to omit said detail when the Boss questions me about where he’s been disappearing to, for a price, of course—”

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” Chuuya scoffed. “Fine. I’ll owe you a favour, and in exchange you do not breathe a word of their existence to anyone. They don’t exist to you, got it?”

Even when trying to appear confident, there was still a note of anxiety in his tone. The mere mention of his sibling was enough to rattle him, it seemed. Dazai paused for a moment, letting Chuuya stew in his restlessness.

“Well? Do we have a deal, asshole?”

He agreed. He wouldn’t tell a soul about [Name], and Chuuya would postpone smothering him in his sleep until he had reasonable cause. Their little secret, Dazai called it—as if anything could stay secret from the Boss for long.

One of the prerequisites for making sure the Port Mafia never knew of their existence, was ensuring that they took careful steps to prevent contact with members of said Port Mafia. An easy way for that to be guaranteed was to avoid any and all places associated with the Mafia, to minimise the chances of bumping into any unsavoury types that might consider their relation to Chuuya to be a weakness to exploit.

All this to say: the last place they should be was right in the middle of Port Mafia territory.

Dazai sighed. “Chuuya will be mad that you’re here, you know.”

“Who even are you?” they asked, in lieu of an answer.

“I’m hurt!” he gasped, grasping at the front of his shirt like a Victorian woman clutching her pearls. “Is Chuuya so cruel that he never mentions his own partner?”

“Are you Dazai?” they asked, wrinkling their nose at him. “Chuuya won’t shut up about you. He thinks you’re really annoying.”

“Oh, the feeling is mutual.” He laughed. “What else does he say about me? Does he tell you about how I can shoot a gun better than he ever will? How one touch from me renders his ability useless? How I’ve beat him in every round of arcade games we have ever played together?”

“He actually said you were big-headed, but I think I could have gathered that myself.” They said dryly.

“Tch. Such a mean dog, spreading lies about me.” Dazai complained, but his mind was elsewhere. He eyed the rumpled state of their clothes and dark circles around their eyes. If they were desperate enough to ignore their brother’s warning to keep away while he was working, the matter must be urgent, and Dazai knew Chuuya would bite his head off if he left them alone in such a dangerous place.

“Why don’t we wait for your brother somewhere nicer than here?” Dazai suggested. “I know a place that isn’t too far, that we both frequent.”

“Am I being kidnapped?” They asked warily.

“Why would I want to kidnap someone as unpleasant as you?” Dazai scrunched his nose up at the thought. “Besides, I’m supposed to be helping keep your existence on the downlow. That becomes difficult if everyone in the Port Mafia catches wind of a strange young person asking for Chuuya.”

“They won’t,” they said, but their voice was doubtful.

Dazai turned, tucking his hands in his pockets and walking back the way he’d come. “Come on. It’s not a long walk.”

The lights and sounds of the arcade were a dull comfort on Dazai’s senses. A chime of the bell above the door greeted them both when they entered, the cashier looked up and gave them a nod.

“Have you been here before?” Dazai asked, and they shook their head. “Excellent! As your benevolent guide, I will be happy to show you around.”

“I thought we were waiting for my brother?” They squint at him suspiciously.

“Of course, but we might as well have fun while we're at it.” Dazai steered them over to the corner to the best machine in the arcade, the game that him and Chuuya had a running bet on who could beat.

It was a basic side-scrolling hack-and-slash game, with only four controls and very simple graphics. What made it stand out was not the game itself, but how infamously hard it was. The first few levels were easy, but once the game deemed the player had an adequate understanding of the controls and how the game worked, it would increase in difficulty until the player was left in an aggravatingly high-speed bullet hell that took an inhuman amount of dexterity to defeat.

There were 100 levels in total. Dazai—who had his initials permanently at the top of the high score board—had only manged to get past level 96.

“This is the best test of skill that this arcade offers.” Dazai slid a token into the machine and he was met with a title screen he had seen many times before. The tinny music came out of the speakers, cheerfully announcing the name of the game. The player character appeared—a little red and black silhouette of a person—as well as the first enemy.

“It's deceptively simple—”

Jump. Punch. Slide. Dodge.

It was a pattern, muscle memory that had settled into his fingers. His movements were precise and measured and not a second off the mark.

“—But it gets difficult.”

Jump. Dodge. Punch. Slide.

He was close. So close.

“If you just—”

Dodge. Punch. Slide. Dodge.

Level 97 appeared across the screen—the highest he’d ever gotten before.

“—Keep going...”

Dodge. Dodge. Slide. Punch—

Game over.

“...Ugh.”

Dazai slumped in his seat, miserably entering his initials into the high score again. Chuuya would be cursing his name if he knew that he had managed to once again overtake him, but he could hardly savour the thought when he wasn't there to witness it.

With a sigh, Dazai glanced over to [Name] beside him. They were watching the screen, but their foot was tapping against the ground in an uneven rhythm, and they were picking at the edges of their nails without even seeming to realize it.

The anxiousness had set in again, it seemed. Dazai cleared his throat. “Do you want to try?”

“...Alright.”

Somewhere between the first and twelfth round of games, he’d sent a short message to the contact in his phone labelled ‘Slug’.

come to the arcade. i have a surprise :P

And when that message was left on read, Dazai decided to clarify further with a second.

the surprise is [name] by the way.

By the time their thirteenth round finished and [Name] left to use the restroom, the doors were slamming open and a familiar person with red hair and wild eyes burst in. He scanned the room, locating Dazai’s bandaged self easily heading straight for him.

“Where are they?” he hissed, turning back and forth like they would appear beside him when he wasn’t looking.

“Who? I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about?” Dazai asked innocently, as if he had done anything innocent in a long time.

“Don’t mess around! Where the fuck is—”

“Chuuya.” A voice dripping with relief cut right through Chuuya’s rising yell. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“[Name]!” Chuuya spun around, the tension melting from his stance as he saw them. “Where were you? I got home and you weren’t there.”

“I was looking for you.” They glanced over to Dazai, and lowered their voice. The rest of their exchange was muffled under the sounds of beeping and chimes from the arcade machine. Throughout it, Dazai stood frozen watching the pair.t

“We’re leaving,” Chuuya said, after what felt like hours of whispering. “…Thank you for looking out for them today.”

“You thank me like I did it out of the goodness of my heart,” Dazai said with a laugh. “That’s one more favour Chuuya owes me now.”

“Bastard. See if I ever thank you for anything again.” Chuuya growled, turning on his heel and pulling his sibling along with him.

Dazai watched the pair leave, his eyes lingering on their retreating forms. It was unsettling how easily they molded to fit the other’s company; the way Chuuya unconsciously matched his steps to theirs, the way the tension melted from their shoulders the moment they laid eyes on him. Even the tone of Chuuya’s voice softened when he addressed them, which was a sight that Dazai didn’t think he was capable of.

Was this family? Did Dazai act this way long ago when he had a relatives of his own? He could hardly fathom reaching such a closeness with anyone, let alone a family. Was he even capable of such a thing, being the broken, shell of a being he was?

Dazai shook his head, ridding himself of the trivial thoughts clouding his mind. When he left, he left alone.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.