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honeydazai · 11 months ago

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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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osarina · 1 year ago

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ᡣ𐭩 TELLING THEM THEY'RE PRETTY!

FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol

SUMMARY: telling the bsd boys that they're pretty! (wordcount: 3.5k; sfw; fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i had cute dividers but this won't show up in the tags if use them D: ! i had sooo much fun with this! i hope you guys enjoy! :D

DAZAI OSAMU

You can’t seem to drag your gaze away from him.

As a long day of work comes to an end, you rest your head on your arms and lean on your desk. Kunikida is still tapping furiously away at his computer, Tanizaki and Naomi are whispering about something together, Ranpo is sorting through his candy, and Atsushi and Kyouka are looking through files. But your eyes are tracing over Dazai Osamu as he leans back in his chair, lazily spinning and bobbing his head to the music he’s listening to.

The setting sun casts an ethereal glow over him, his lips idly turned up and his lashes brushing his cheeks as rests his eyes waiting for the day to end. Dazai Osamu is pretty—you’ve always acknowledged that—but there’s something about the peace of this moment, the domesticity of the office and the ambience of the lighting that has you utterly enraptured.

He looks so at ease, and Dazai Osamu is never at ease. Even when he throws up that clownlike mask of his and spends his day entertaining under the guise of joy and humor, you can always see the strain in the corner of his eyes and lips. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible really—if you were anyone else, you’d miss it, but you’re not anyone else, much to his displeasure, because you know he hates how easily you can see right through him.

After a few minutes, Dazai peeks his eyes open—and you’re almost breathless, because his eyes are like melted honey beneath the sunset, warm and gentle, glittering with amusement. You think you can stare at him forever and never tire of it.

He rolls his chair closer to you, resting his forearms on your desk so that your arms are brushing and laying his head down on them so that his face is mere inches from yours, matching your position. There's a smile on his lips, soft and teasing as he whispers, "You've been staring at me for five minutes."

"Mhm," you agree, voice just as quiet as if to not disturb the tranquility of the office. You can feel his breath light against your face from the proximity he's laying at and you can smell peppermint on his breath from the candy you’d seen him swipe from Ranpo’s desk earlier when the other man had gone to speak to Fukuzawa.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks playfully, dark eyes glimmering as he waits for your response.

You can tease him back and say yes, as you usually do and is probably what he expects—and you fully intend to do just that but the words that leave your lips are not that.

“You just look really pretty today,” you say softly, watching as his eyes widen just a bit at your words, pink dusting his cheeks.

His lips part to say something but no words leave them. He opens and closes them a few times and you marvel because Dazai must know that he’s pretty from all of the attention he gets from women, so you don’t understand why he’s so thrown off hearing you voice it out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him genuinely speechless before now.

“So you don’t think i’m pretty every other day?” Dazai pushes his bottom lip out into an over-exaggerated pout, recovering swiftly from your words, though you expected nothing less from him. But you can’t help but note that his cheeks are still a bit pink and there’s something indecipherable in his eyes.

“Prettier than usual,” you amend and watch as the flush on his cheeks darkens and he instead resorts to completely burying his face in his arms with a frustrated groan.

“I am supposed to be the flirt, bella,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms as he hides his face from your view. He cannot hide the way his ears have gone bright red, and you have half a mind to reach out and tug at them

You lift your hand to your lips to hide the giggle that rises to your lips, scooching your chair a bit closer so you can knock your shoulder against his.

“I’m not flirting,” you say. “Just stating a fact.”

He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can give you a heavy side eye—you can only barely see the red hue coating his cheekbone.

“Not mutually exclusive,” he says grumpily, and you lean down to press your lips against his now exposed forehead, smiling softly as his eyes instinctively flutter shut and his body relaxes as the touch.

Then, you receive a pencil to the side of your head. You yelp as your hand flies to where it had made contact with you, scowling at your assailant who is none other than Ranpo, smiling widely as he waves at you and then motions to Kunikida, who is red faced and staring at the two of you. You can’t tell if it’s in embarrassment or anger.

“Not during work hours,” he snaps, and you realize that he’s definitely embarrassed, so you share a short look with Dazai, who has regained that mischievous look in his eyes as he glances over at Kunikida and back at you.

Without saying a word, or giving any other sort of warning, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short and chaste kiss, but his lips are soft and taste of candy, and you think you might be able to kiss them forever if you get the chance.

Now you’re the one flustered, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at Dazai, who is evidently thoroughly pleased to not be the one uncomposed if the unscrupulous grin on his lips has anything to say about it.

He tosses you a wink before rolling his chair back over to his desk, animatedly complaining about Ranpo and Kunikida being lonely and bitter and getting in the way of Dazai’s chance at true love because of it—you only roll your eyes at his dramatics, as you usually do when Dazai goes off on tangents, but it’s with much more fondness this time.

•••

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

You are not listening to a single word that he’s saying.

It’s a dangerous situation to be in with Fyodor Dostoevsky, you’re sure he’s noticed by now and he will be petty enough to finish his brief about his plans and your involvement and then ask you to repeat what he said, but you just can’t focus.

He tied his hair back, you note, still quite a bit awed by the sight. There are two locks framing his face and his bangs are falling between his eyes, but the rest of his hair, which has grown a bit long in the weeks that he’s been ardently preparing for the final stages of his plan, is pulled back into a lax bun.

He looks so casual, and Fyodor Dostoevsky never looks casual. He’s dressed in a turtleneck and loose pants as he leans back in his chair. There’s a folder resting on his lap that he’s idly flipping through and he keeps glancing up at you occasionally, pale lips flat and violet eyes disapproving, but you just nod along to his words even though you know that he knows that you’re not paying attention.

And you think, distantly, that you probably should be paying attention because he’s talking about your upcoming mission and what you should expect from it but you figure you’ll be fine—it’s a simple infiltration mission, nothing to worry about. And you’d much rather prefer to appreciate Fyodor’s rare repose than to listen him droll on about boring topics.

Sometimes, you think if he just kept his mouth shut all the time, he’d be perfect. But you think you’d miss his sharp-witted comments and the lengthy debates the two of you have after a few glasses of wine.

He looks extra pretty tonight, even beyond the casual hairstyle and clothes and his uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor, and you think it’s because of the way the flames of the fireplace are casting an enchanting orange and red glow over his face. It makes the violets of his eyes burn alive in a way that they usually don’t, you’re far too used to the glacial visage they take whenever he puts his attention on someone. Every time he glances up at you, you swear that you can get lost in them.

“… And you are not listening to a word that I am saying, are you?”

Fyodor is giving you the heaviest side eye as he finally calls you out, expression unamused. His brows are furrowed and his pale skin is taut with thinly veiled irritation.

“Of course, I am,” you dismiss, waving your hand. “Infiltration mission, detective agency, get close to the tiger boy.”

Fyodor looks distinctly unimpressed by your words, brows deepening—you figure you must have spoken wrongly, you probably shouldn’t have been so indifferent, and you bite back a sigh before reaching forward to press two fingers between Fyodor’s eyebrows, as if to forcibly smooth away his annoyance.

He blinks and draws back, out of reach of your arm, and then casts you an even more irritable look.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accuses. “This mission will be dangerous, you’ll be at risk of being exposed every moment you are in the agency and if you are exposed-“

“Your plans will be ruined,” you finish, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes. “I kno-“

“You could be killed,” Fyodor corrected, voice cold and sharp, and you look back over to him. He looks unusually intense, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the appearance that the flames of the fireplace are giving him as they flicker dangerously across his face or if it’s because he’s that displeased with you being distracted. Either way, you find your mind drifting again because wow. “Dazai Osamu is not a man to be taken lightly. When he manages to figure out who you are and what you’re doing, we will need an immediate extraction plan.”

“Careful, Fyodor,” you drawl, watching as his violet eyes narrow briefly, “almost sounds like you care.”

Fyodor’s lips twist but he doesn’t respond. You raise your eyebrows, he looks away. Your eyes shoot open.

“You have a bigger role to play,” Fyodor finally says, but he’s no longer looking at you. “You cannot be killed yet.”

“Yet,” you repeat, amused. Fyodor’s jaw tightens, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are trained on the fireplace to the side of the two of you and you can vaguely see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning ardently against the familiar violet.

You lean forward again, shifting off of the couch to sit on the coffee table between the two of you so you can reach him. You reach forward to brush your knuckles against his cheek—he doesn’t move away this time, but his eyes cut to the side to watch you carefully.

You don’t say anything for a moment, absently tucking one of the locks of hair framing his face behind his ear. His hair is soft, freshly washed—for once—it smells faintly of lavender and vanilla and you wonder if he stole your conditioner.

“You look very pretty tonight, Fyodor,” you say quietly, and then smile. “It’s hard to focus when you look like this.”

The expression Fyodor directs toward you is extraordinarily blank, except for the faintest specks of pink that glare compared to the pallor of his face.

He shakes his head, looking away from you yet again.

“… You cause me much suffering,” he murmurs, and somehow, you know that might be the closest you might get to an admission of love from Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You smile to yourself. “And you to I,” you say, voice a bit teasing, and then you add, “Now, can you tell me again what to look out for?”

The moment is ruined. Fyodor’s eye twitches and he’s giving you that unamused look again, and you think having him repeat himself might be a mistake because now you’re even more distracted, but Fyodor sighs and starts on his lecture again so you force yourself to listen.

It takes about three minutes for him to release a sigh of utter suffering when he realizes that your eyes have glazed over yet again.

•••

NIKOLAI GOGOL

Nikolai has a wild sort of beauty about him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and it’s widely apparent in his frenzied laughter and chaotic behavior. His eye glitters and his teeth gleam sharply beneath the glow of the moonlight as he waves his hands around, animatedly describing to you all of the details of the things he’s been doing while you were away.

Fyodor’s masterplan has involved Nikolai apparently taken upon an infiltration role at the ministry of defense—you think it’s a bold move for Fyodor to use Nikolai for such a tenuous mission, but he’s apparently been having the time of his life with it. Though he thinks his boss is deplorable and one of his coworkers has evidently pissed him off beyond repair, because now he’s telling you about how he’s been ‘pranking’ the man in righteous vengeance.

You think Nikolai’s idea of pranking varies from yours, because you’re pretty sure him using his ability to break into the man’s house constitutes a crime not a prank. But you don’t have it in you to make that distinction when he’s so excitedly telling you about how every day he’s been going into his house to move around all of his stuff and hide some of his belongings to make the man squirm. He’s succeeding outstandingly in his ambition, if the videos he’s waving in front of you have anything to say about it.

You watch as he frantically scrolls to the next video—“this one is the best,” he claims, as he has for every video thus far. You watch with an amused smile as his dark-haired coworker steps into his apartment and nearly starts crying when he realizes that all of his stuff has been moved again, scrambling for his phone to call the police, who have—according to Nikolai—apparently already told him multiple times that there’s nothing they can do about it. The video is shaking wildly, as if the person filming can barely hold the camera straight, and you’re convinced that’s exactly what it is because you can hear Nikolai’s muffled laughter coming from recording.

Nikolai naturally finds it much funnier than you do, half-way keeling over as he wheezes, his laughter shattering the peaceful night. The two of you are sitting at a park near the apartment that Fyodor had leased for you for the duration of the Yokohama operation. The moon is high in the sky, casting a bewitching glow over the lake in front of you and there’s a chill in the air—it’s a nice night all around, you think there will probably some frost dusting the grass in the morning but the cold hardly bothers you now with Nikolai pressed to your side as he laughs himself into a near-coughing fit over his harassment of his coworker.

“Why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai suddenly complains loudly, scowling at you, but even then he keeps having to bite back residual laughter whenever he glances back down at his phone. “It’s funny.”

“It is funny,” you agree. Nikolai gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you. “It is.”

“Then why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai accuses doubtfully, and then adds, even more accusatory, “You hate me.”

You’re not sure why you aren’t laughing, honestly. Usually you’d be burying your face into his shoulder trying to smother your snickers, because even though you might not entirely agree with Nikolai’s idea of a prank, you can still find some humor in it. Because it is kind of funny. Kind of.

But then you realize that you’re probably not laughing because you’ve been spending most of the night admiring Nikolai rather than listening to him prattle on about his escapades and watching his poorly recorded videos, so you can’t fully appreciate the humor in the videos. With his cheeks flushed from copious amounts of laughter and his eyes glowing with excitement, you think he’s very pretty tonight—Nikolai is always pretty, but the angle at which he’s sitting leaves the moon haloing behind his head, and maybe it’s just because you’ve missed him the past few weeks when you’ve been abroad dealing with a territory dispute with Tolstoy, but you think there’s something special about tonight.

“I don’t hate you. I guess I’ve been too busy admiring you,” you finally say, a playful smile on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “You look pretty tonight.”

Nikolai blinks, eyes wide and owlish as he processes your words. The longer he goes unresponsive, you acknowledge that a quiet Nikolai is far more unnerving than a loud and erratic Nikolai, you’d expected a more… theatrical response to your comment. A swish of his cape, him leaping to his feet with a twirl and an agreement, even just a wild laugh; instead, he looks away abruptly. He doesn’t even just look away, he physically turns his whole body away from you.

You blink.

“Nikolai?” you ask, a bit astonished when he literally ignores you. You lean forward, trying to get a look at his face, but then he swivels around even more and your lips part in shock. “Nikolai.”

You’re only met with a face full of his soft white hair, impeccably braided, as per usual—you have half a mind to tug at it hard to try to get a response from him, but you aren’t in the mood for the lewd comment that would likely spill from his lips after.

“Koly-“

“Poor me, poor me,” Nikolai suddenly cries loudly, “The little koshenya mocks me when all I do is try to make her laugh. Poor me, poor me.”

His hand flies to his face, melodramatic as he bemoans your alleged cruelty. You stare at him, mind trying to piece together what exactly is happening—Nikolai is always hard to predict, but you feel like this is a bit strange even for him, and that’s saying something.

“… What?” you start to ask but Nikolai has thrown himself into a loud and theatrical tirade about how he doesn’t deserve such injustice and how he was only trying to make you laugh, and how it’s so, so cold-hearted of you to taunt him when this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in weeks.

Nikolai is impossible to bargain with when he gets like this, so you only sigh and tilt your head up to the sky, his words flying in one ear and out the other as you wait for him to settle down on his own.

Instead, you swear the world is against you because rather than settling down, he becomes increasingly more noisy and distressed, and his accusations become even more asinine. Now, he’s saying that you’ve always had it out for him and how you weren’t laughing at his jokes because you hate him and want to report him to the police and how he should tell Dostoy about your betrayal, or better yet, he should stuff you in his cloak and leave you there?

You side-eye Nikolai heavily as he continues on, slightly alarmed, but brush off the casual threat as just Nikolai being Nikolai. You don’t know how to shut him up, you think you might be out here all night listening to him, and now you’re the one bemoaning your fate because how did a simple compliment turn into this.

Finally, an idea strikes.

You brace yourself, questioning your sanity and your entire existence before you interrupt him with a loud, “Quiz time!”

Nikolai goes silent instantly, head snapping toward you, eye even wider than before.

You think you’ve hit an all time low as you say, “Was I trying to mock you before?” Nikolai opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can. “What’s that you say? I wasn’t? Ding ding! We’ve gotta winner!”

You think Nikolai might be having an internal crisis. He’s staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life—his lips are parted, his eye void of the usual mischief dancing in it. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what.

You let out a long breath as you go to speak up again, but before you can, his eye is glittering again, sharp and dangerous, and his lips are curving up into a slow smile.

Nikolai inhales and then he takes a complete one-eighty as he bursts into loud cackles and says, “Ahahaha! I knew you loved me!” as if he wasn’t just lamenting your irrational hatred for him moments before.

Your eye twitches. He begins a second tirade, this one far more embarrassing for you than the last.

You regret everything.

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oikasugayama · 1 year ago

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YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG

NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fyodor

Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.

His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.

"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.

"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"

You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out

"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"

"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."

He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.

"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."

"fyodor..."

"again," he moans, hand working faster.

"Fyodor."

you walk in and close the door behind you.

Poe

You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.

After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom

you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"

you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.

he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--

you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...

a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.

"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."

it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"

"that i... i think about you... a lot..."

Chuuya

you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.

until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?

you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.

"are you fucking serious?"

"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.

"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."

"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."

"dude!!!"

"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.

"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are

"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."

"to what... to you jerking it?"

you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"

#bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya headcanons #fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor headcanons #poe x reader #poe smut #poe headcanons #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs smut

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osachiyo · 1 year ago

Text

✦ BAD TIMING? ✦

⟣ ──┈ · · · + including : dazai, chuuya, fukuzawa, fyodor x fem!reader

⟣ ──┈ · · · + c/w : nsfw content (mdni), teasing, petnames, degradation, rough sex, prone bone, cowgirl, mating press, nipple play, cursing, cockwarming, mentions of nikolai + non consensual vouyer in fyodor's & more

⟣ ──┈ · · · + a/n : i wrote this with my pussy.

synopsis. . . you're getting your guts rearranged when− 'riiing!' the annoying sound of his phone ringing caught you both off guard, snapping you out of your dazed state as you both paused your nightly rendezvous. what's even more surprising to you is when he reaches over to grab the tiny device, answering the call− ugh, seriously?

.001 — Dazai

You whined at feeling Dazai's hips slow down, now completely flush against your ass, as he picks up the phone. "What could kunikida-kun possibly need from me, at this hour?" He muttered to himself, voice breathy and warm against the shell of your ear. Fuck, it was kunikida?

"Hello~ ku-ni-ki-da-kuunnnnn?" Your co-worker said in an annoyingly sing-songy voice, making the man in the other end of the line grumble in frustration. They began talking about some..mission? Anyway, it had been around 20 minutes since they've started talking? You couldn't exactly tell− or cared, honestly. The only thing in your fucked out mind was for dazai to close the damn phone and just fuck you already!

You showed your frustrations by huffing and angrily kicking your legs− turning your head to look back at dazai with a glare. He only smirked in response, shrugging before turning his attention back to the call.

You had no idea that dazai was aching to move right now, the feeling of your warm cunt pulsating around him was almost too much to bear. The way sweat gathered at the dip of your back, the way you arched for him− shit.

It had been a few more moments, you were so close to whine out complaints when dazai's hips started moving again, cock easily brushing against your sweet spot. You could still hear his voice from behind you.. he− he wasn't done with the call?!

You were about to ask him what the hell he was planning now− when long, slim fingers entangled themselves in your already messy hair− shoving your head down against the mattress to shut you up as he kept his pace, voice straining a little while he contuined his "very important" conversation with your other co-worker.

Lewd "pap! pap! pap!" noises of dazai's balls hitting your ass filled the enclosed room as you tried your best not to let any moans slip out− god, if he found out− "oi dazai, what're the weird noises coming from your side?"

Fuck.

"Oh uh− nothing, nothing at all, kunikida-kun," he breathed, free hand now coiling around your waist to rub at your neglected clit− making your back arch even more as you gasped out loudly.

"What the− are you sure? You better not be scheming anything bad right now, idiot."

"Of course not! mmh− so tight−!" he whispered the last bit, large hand now cluntching the flip phone in a vice grip as he watched his cock disappear inside of your slick folds− a creamy ring forming around the base of his cock.

"Huh? what's so tight? Dazai−"

That was the last thing you heard from kunikida before dazai's poor phone was thrown somewhere on the bed, the hand coiled in your hair now dragging you up− arching your back even more for him as he muttered soft curses into your ear.

You let out a pained mewl at your hair being pulled, desperate hands scrambling to claw and tug at the sheets as your back was flush against dazai's chest. "Ah− shiit−!" your eyes rolled back as the thumb circling your tiny clit sped up, the bed creaking loudly with each thrust of dazai's narrow hips against your ass.

"Yeah? you gonna cum, 'donna?" Dazai mocked, breath hot against your neck as he moaned lewdly at the way your pussy gushed around him− spraying the sheets with clear fluid. Dazai only groaned in response, "oh shit, fuuuck!− g'nna cum inside you, yeah? y' wan' that?" He slurred, you didn't get to answer before blunt nails meanly dug into your hips as he stilled− balls tightening as spurts of white filled your cunt before he fell on top of you.

You two laid there for a few moments, his cock slowly softening inside you− chest heaving as he finally got off, hissing from the loss of warmth. Dazai pressed a gentle kiss on your temple before walking off, most likely to grab a wet rag to clean you up. You got up with a sigh, running a hand through your messy hair when your eyes land on dazai's phone− it wasn't too far away from you.

You crawled closer to it, taking it in your hands when it lit up− "call ended now."

.002 — Chuuya

You were happily bouncing on your boyfriend's dick when the annoying ringtone of his phone went off. He sighed, lifting his head from the sofa as he reached over to grab the device, brows furrowing at the contact name.

You were sitting idly on his lap now, still impaled on his cock. "Who is it?" You panted, out of breath as you tried not to clench around the ginger's fat dick.

"It's.. boss. be quiet f'me, okay doll?" His voice was soft, but you know he meant it as a command.

You nodded innocently, urging him to answer the phone call. and he did, the way he immediately put on a professional voice sort of baffled you but hey, he was a mafia executive.

But the moment he put the phone next to his ear, you clenched around him tight— making him almost double over with a gasp as he gripped your hip for stability.

"Argh!— I mean- y-yes, boss!" He stuttered, face flushing as he grit his teeth, glaring at you as his fingertips dug into your plush hip, veins appearing at his temple as he mouthed to you to "behave."

Like hell you'd listen and torture yourself by cockwarming him. You only grinned mischievously before lifting your hips up and slamming down on his cock, his eyes shutting tightly as he tried his best not to moan out— he couldn't. Especially not with Mori on the line.

You kept pleasuring yourself on his cock without a care, even going as far as putting a show for him— your hands reaching to play with your tits as you softly moaned out his name, reaching to grab his hand but he only smacked it away, cock dripping with need as he tried his best to keep things professional.

"Chuuya-kun, everything alright on your side? I keep hearing these..noises."

The man in question knew he was fucked— he knew Mori already figured everything out, "uh— y-yeah, boss. I'm fine— fuck—!" Panting out the last part, Chuuya gripped his phone so tight that you worried it would shatter.

"Uh-huh.. Anyway, you had better call me back once you're finished with your.... current predicament. Have fun."

And with that, the Port Mafia boss ended the call, making Chuuya groan in annoyance before chucking the small device somewhere— "what the hell was that?" He growled, hand coming up to wrap around your throat as he forced you to stop your movements, cock nestled deep inside of you once again as your hips stilled. You whined from the loss of friction, the sound only making your lover's right eye twitch in annoyance— "such a poor, needy slut, ain't ya?" He held you down firmly before thrusting up, fat cock nudging against your sweet spot as you threw your head back.

"Ooh, f-fuck— my slutty fuckin' girl can't even stand a few minutes without cock, huh?" He stuttered, other hand reaching up to land a gentle but firm slap on your face. It didn't sting much, but was enough to move your head to the other side. You only whimpered in response, clenching around him even more as his thrusts sped up— growls and groans of pleasure escaping his own lips as he suddenly parted your lips with his thumb before shoving two gloved fingers down your throat— your eyes stinging with tears as the digits hit the back of your throat, tits bouncing up and down as he practically manhandled you like a ragdoll— settling you on your hands and knees without even pulling out fully.

"Argh- fuck—!" He moaned, burying his face into the dip of your shoulder, landing soft kisses on the smooth skin. "Ch-chuuya— s'good, feels s'good—" you slurred, eyes rolling back as one hand found your breasts— the soft flesh jiggling with each brutal thrust of his hips as he basically slapped them around, harshly pinching your nipple as his other hand found your clit— rubbing quick and fast circles on the delicate bud— making you clamp around his cock once more before gushing all over his cock and the expensive leather couch. Your juices ran down his balls to his thighs— the force of your orgasm making you limp against him. You'd probably fall face first onto the couch if not for Chuuya's vice grip on you. Whimpers and borderline pornographic moans left his swollen lips— before biting down hard on your shoulder, spurts of cum flooding your insides as you laid flaccid in his hold— a drooling, shivering mess.

Chuuya fell on top of you, the both of you laying in each other's warmth when—

"Riiiing!"

.003 — Fukuzawa

A pout graced your pretty lips when your husband reached for his phone— picking the tiny device up as he drew soothing circles on your hip, motioning for you to be quiet.

You tried your best to be quiet as he took the phone call, you really did! But the way his cock was nestled so deep inside you and the way you could practically feel him throb inside of your gooey walls— you really didn't wanna bother him or interrupt his phone call but... you couldn't help but whine softly, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, clenching down on the older man's impossibly hard cock. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when his eyes finally focused on you, underneath him— little pants and huffs of his name rolling off your tongue as you played with yourself. Your other hand was playing with your nipples, softly tugging on them as you bit your bottom lip— which was already swollen. Your eyes were glossed over, hips dying to move on their own.

His jaw was clenched— free hand coming down to lift your legs and put them on his shoulder before he started thrusting inside of you with more vigour than before. It was like he was in a trance— the way your pussy fluttered around his pulsating cock, and the way his tip kissed your cervix with each thrust had you both panting. Your head spun with pleasure as he reaches down to press at your tummy— feeling his bulge. Fuck, he was huge.

The phonecall still went on, of course— but you know all Fukuzawa could think about was you, and the way your pretty cunt swallowed his cock. The noises leaving his mouth told you exactly what you needed to know— the slight stutter in his voice, usually gentle tone now gruff and slightly higher in pitch as he tried his best not to blow his load right then and there.

Not like you were any better either— hair disheveled, sweat dripping off your body as tears stinged at your eyes from the sheer size of this man— it didn't take long for you to cream and gush all over his cock— some of it even spraying on his abdomen. He saw the way your glossy eyes rolled back, your jaw slacked open as your high hit you like a truck.

To hell with the phonecall — he thought.

He cut off whoever was on the other line with a quick but curt, "I'm a little busy— I'll call you later", not even letting the other person respond before ending the call and placing the phone away— all his attention back was on you.

"Putting on a show f'me, sweet girl?" He grunted, dragging his hips back before slamming them against yours— "mmh! K-Knew it'd work— fuck!" You moaned, now feeling both of his hands pushing your legs back, knees almost touching your ears as he forced you into a mean mating press. You felt your high coming closer again— balls slapping against your ass, cock bullying that spongey spot inside of your gummy walls as he groaned sweet nothings into your neck— gruff voice drowned out by his own growls.

You could only babble nonsense and his name as you came hard for the second time that night— pussy clenching around his length and he could feel something snap inside of him— hips speeding up to an inhuman pace, losing their rhythm as he bottomed out fully. Balls pressed against your ass while he spurted out so much cum— some of it ran down your ass and on to the sheets as he slowly got up, pulling out of your cunt with a hiss and watching his cum gushing out of your cunt in spurts.

.004 — Fyodor

You were finally bouncing on Fyodor's cock after hours of teasing and cockwarming— your hips and thighs burned but it didn't matter to you at the moment, because you can finally reach that release that Fyodor has been dangling in front of you— or at least you thought.

Your heart dropped to your stomach once the ringing of his phone echoed through the room— an annoyed sigh leaving Fyodor's lips as he gently slapped your thigh, a silent order for you to stop and stay still.

"A noise and you're getting punished," Fyodor's voice was smooth, but the threat made you gulp, "o-okay," you nodded, accidentally clenching down on him from nervousness and he hissed— blunt fingernails digging into your soft hips. He let out a shaky breath before picking up the phone, it was sort of unsettling how his voice switched from breathy to normal in a second.

You didn't know the phonecall would last so damn long.

It had been almost 30 whole minutes since he had picked up the goddamned phone— and this was pure torture to you. The occasional twitch of his cock inside you made your head spin, oh and the way he'd glare at you when you clenched down particularly hard— it did nothing else but make you even wetter. He, on the otherhand, was completely fine— not a hair out of place as he spoke so casually about.. something. The only time he'd react is when your pussy contracted around him— which would only get a hiss, or hitched breath from the man. It pissed you off.

It was too much for you— your juices running down his cock and onto the leather chair, god - you were leaking so much.

Fortunately for you, he was done with the call soon enough— quickly placing the phone on the desk before whispering into your shoulder as he placed gentle kisses on your skin, "go ahead, myshka - move." His voice was soft, as if he was proud of you for obeying his order and being a good girl— fingers that were previously digging into your flesh now reached between your bodies to rub and flick at your clit, while you happily bounced on his dick. He may have been quiet as a mouse during the phonecall— but he couldn't help but let out soft grunts and pants as you expertly milked his cock, dry lips even letting out one or two whines as you kissed his neck, down to his collarbones— pale skin now adorning a heavy flush as your thighs smacked against his own.

Lewd squelches and noises of skin smacking against skin filled the dark room of his office— Fyodor's jaw clenching as he feels your walls - so soft and warm, squeezing his cock as if you were trying to milk him. He was going to cum soon— but he couldn't possibly finish before his darling, could he? Lithe and slim fingers sped up their movements on your clit as he bit on your shoulder— free hand pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples as you gasped, your own pace turning sloppy and uncoordinated as you clenched your eyes shut— cumming all over his cock as he held your hips down firmly, shooting ribbons of white inside of your walls, some of it dribbling down his balls to the leather of his seat.

You both were left panting, shivering as Fyodor drew random shapes into your shoulder— trying to come down from his own high. He pulled you closer after you both calmed down, your head resting on his chest as he placed soft kisses on the crown of your head, whispering how good you've been for him.

If only you knew the man also coming down from his high on the other end of the video call— white hair disheveled as he came all over his screen.

note. ik i said i'd add jouno but I lost motivation for this thing :( jouno will be added to another work, so sorry jouno lovers </3

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

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

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