pinerrevolution

[nebulize-my-mind]

i need a cosplay friend bc idk what i'm doinggggg

also need more excuses to cosplay. i've never been to a con and going alone? terrifying

taking applications - i'm like 5' 1" i'll be chuuya you can do dazai? lmao

[violentdelights-violentendss]

When BSD men have to carry you.

Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men

In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨

Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.

Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!

Edogawa Ranpo

You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.

Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.

The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.

“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”

“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.

“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.

Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.

You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.

Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.

“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.

As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.

Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.

The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.

He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?

The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.

He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.

“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.

Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”

Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.

Osamu Dazai

You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.

The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.

“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.

Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.

“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.

Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.

You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.

“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”

“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.

“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.

“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.

“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.

Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.

The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Yes, please.”

Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.

Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.

“Hey, (Y/N),”

“Yes?”

“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”

“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.

“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”

You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.

Doppo Kunikida

The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.

You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.

Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.

Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.

Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.

“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.

“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.

Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.

You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.

You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.

“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.

Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.

Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”

Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.

You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.

“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.

“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.

“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.

You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.

The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.

Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.

Yukichi Fukuzawa

The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.

The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.

The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.

You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.

You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”

“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.

“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”

“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.

Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.

As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.

“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.

You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.

When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.

The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.

At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.

Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.

“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.

Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.

As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.

“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.

Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.

Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.

“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.

“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.

“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.

“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.

You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.

Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.

The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.

“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.

“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.

“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.

Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.

Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.

Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.

When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.

“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.

Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.

“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.

“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.

You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.

It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.

Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.

You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.

Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.

Nakajima Atsushi

Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.

When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.

You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.

You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.

As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.

“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.

You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.

[chuulyssa]

── ★ 𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐘 !

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — bsd men and public sex scenarios

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — smut

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎──‎‎‎‎─ tw intended lowercase, public sex, exhibitionism, edging, begging, use of pet names (doll, love, angel etc), praise kink, cockwarming + fingering in fyodor's part, voyeurism + choking + nipple play in nikolai's part

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai x reader

𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 is always ready for sex, whether it be in the comfort of your bedroom or the last seat of a movie theater. you cannot physically count the number of times you've asked him to dick you down and he has cooed in reply, pulled you into a random corner, ridden your panties to the side and pried your legs apart with a smile. that, however, doesn't mean there aren't times when you have to beg for his fat cock. he is quite a nuisance, even when the two of you have to make it quick, locked up in a public room. he enjoys watching you flailing your arms around in a silent tantrum, unable to moan or groan or whine, afraid of being heard by others.

“now now bella,” he says in a sing-song voice. “if i give it to you now, and you end up being so loud that the others hear, it will be bad, won’t it?”

he watches you rub your cheek against his bare cock, throat dry from the hardness which he refused to let you suck.

“i’ll be quiet, i promise,” you say. “please please, can i have it?”

“you always say that, dolly,” he strokes your hair lovingly and you lean into his touch. “but we both know you never keep your promise. i would like you to hush for me, alright? we can be as loud as we want at home, but not here, hm? the president is in the next room; it’s a very important meeting, okay?”

you nod vigorously, and he chuckles.

“ah now you know i’m weak for those eyes,” he pulls you up and sits you nicely on his cock all in one go, clamping a hand over your mouth as your eyes widen at the forced penetration. “we’ve got an hour, baby. let’s make it nice and slow, yea? don’t want anything to spill or make a mess, hm? easy now, doll. ride me like a good girl, but quietly.”

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 doesn't mind pissing off mori in ways more than one. he cannot recall how many times he's fucked you in his own office in various positions, and so messily too, just to see his boss's reaction. he, unlike dazai, doesn't have to be quiet though. it's his building, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, shove his cock down your throat wherever he wants. but he likes to go at a tantalizingly slow pace. he knows he can take his time. he's not gonna get 'caught'. his subordinates know better than to intrude on his business. it's just you, spread-eagled on the table, and him, rutting his hard cock inside you.

“you like it, yea? then why don’t you say it?” he groans in your ear. “you can tell me whose pussy this is, can’t you? why don’t you say my name, doll? whose girl are you?”

“y-yours, all yours,” you hiss and he gently pushes your face back into the mahogany table, the smell of fresh wood and sex clouding your senses.

“what’s my name?”

“chuuya–”

“chuuya what?”

“port mafia executive chuuya nakahara and the owner of my body,” you breathe. he's taught you to say that whenever he asks you that.

“good girl,” he says proudly, smile faltering for a second as he adjusts his pace. “you gonna come, baby? i can feel you. come, come on this cock, we’ll let it get on the floor and table, just to have some fun, yea?”

you widen your eyes, and he chuckles, gloved hand coming to pinch a nipple.

“no objections. mori's office or not, i decide what i do with my pussy.”

you shuddered. he's not afraid and it's seen. because after all, who's gonna fire him?

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 isn't always the one to initiate sex, much less one in public. then again, your numb cunt and shaking legs are testimony of how well he does when he decides to. public sex for fyodor meant shoving you by your hair down on his cock, pretending to be interested in the ramblings of fukichi while you were sucking him off under the table. when he feels he has to reward you for good behaviour though, he allows you to perch on his lap, your panties shifted to the side as he nests his cock deep inside your warm pussy, offering his ideas while the others don't bat an eye at the unusual approach of the mastermind.

he drums his fingers on the table, sliding them down to pinch your clit. your eyes widen, neck snapping around to look at him as he continues to look ahead. from the corner of his sly smile, he mutters, “i’ve told you to stop moving so much, havent i, angel? or would you like to leave the meeting? i wouldn’t mind either way. you’re distracting a hard-working man.”

you frown at him. “i’m not moving around–” your angry whisper is cut off by a finger slipping inside your already filled cunt, stretching it out even more. you hiss loudly, fist clenching around his cape.

“quieten, printsessa, or i might have to send you away. you’re not being very good now. i’d like to have a word with you after the gathering departs. in private.”

you scowl and turn back to staring at a wall in front of you, when you feel his finger escaping your soaking cunt. sighing in relief, you barely anticipate the slight jolt of his hips as he forced his cock deeper inside you for the fraction of a second before bringing it back in place.

your eyes wander frantically to see if anyone noticed the act. nobody did, thankfully, or maybe they had learned not to intrude on his business. either way, you will pay the price for boredom in the next thirty minutes.

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 is similar to dazai when it comes to enthusiasm related to public sex. he's into voyeurism, a bit much for your liking, but he swears by your name he won't do it if you don't like it. but you don't miss the way he casually lifts your skirt up to check your ass out, or how he sticks a finger inside your cleavage line to harden your nipples. he has always wanted to be free, and what defines freedom more than sex in the back of his car, where the windows are open and any passerby can hear the commotion, wild and alive like never before?

“but kolya, we have to be quiet, we can’t just–”

“hush, my little birdie. do as i say and you won’t be in trouble,” he lays you down comfortably on the seat before proceeding to bang the shit out of you. your meek attempt at stifling your moans by covering your mouth is unsuccessful, and highly futile, he thinks. “now why would you do that, my dove? why would you not bless my ears with your heavenly sounds? let me hear them, dove, please.”

“kolya–”

“yes yes yes love, just like that,” he coos praises into your ear. “but you can go louder, can’t you?”

his mouth sucks on one of your nipples, begging you silently to give him more, to say more.

“please tell me how i make you feel, dove. i might die.”

“so good, kolya, so good.”“yes dove, now can you tell the whole word how i make you feel? please? for me?” he fastens his pace to force moans out of you, hand reaching to your throat to make you say his name. “want the whole word to know you love me, dove. that you’re mine. all mine.”

and his demands grow sinister by the moment with threatening consequences.

“whoopsie, no dove you’re gonna have to keep it in for now. can’t let you come unless i see you beg for it, now can i?”

it was always a long night of satisfying sex with him.

[yokohamapound]

ok but like consider,, dazai, akutagawa, kunikida and atsushi (or anyone else u wanna add my request is mainly for akutagawa and kunikida) working alone and you open your coat to reveal you're just wearing lingerie underneath <3

Ah, such a classic move! <3

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Dazai Osamu, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, mild derogatory dirty talk

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida is often to be found working late in the Armed Detective Agency’s office, especially after the conclusion of a case. Or if Dazai has been especially a pain in the ass that day and prevented Kunikida from keeping to his packed work schedule. Kunikida is not the type of man who’ll let the day’s work slip over to tomorrow. That’s how nations start to crumble (according to him). 

Hours after the rest of the agency have gone home, even Fukuzawa, Kunikida is still there, typing away at his laptop, the glare of the screen making his glasses seem opaque. His only concession to the late hour is a half-drunk cup of coffee sitting beside the laptop. 

His head twists around when the door to the agency office opens. Who could it be this late at night? Atsushi coming to check up on him? Dazai coming to sleep on the couch again? He tenses when he sees the tan colour of a trenchcoat through the wavy glass of the office door, but his shoulders loosen when he sees you in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asks you, turning back to finish that last bit of paperwork. “And what’s with the coat? You’re not trying to dress like Dazai now, are you?”

He hopes not. Kunikida doesn’t need to be jump-scared like that every time you meet up with him. He’s only half-listening when you give him some excuse about being cold. Faintly, he picks up the sound of high heels clicking against the polished floorboards as you make your way over to him. He catches a hint of perfume as you come to stand at his shoulder. 

“I’m almost finished,” he grunts, his fingers flying so fast across the keyboard they seem to blur slightly at the edges. He’s tired, and it must be late indeed if you’ve come to pick him up. He turns his head to ask about what you two should pick up for dinner on the way home, when his jaw falls open like someone pulled out a screw holding it shut.

You’ve allowed your trenchcoat to fall open, revealing your body clad in scraps of structured silk and lace. Something classy and timeless, in soft cream or sultry black. It’s like something out of an old movie or a vintage catalogue. Kunikida’s glasses steam up briefly, before he slams his laptop closed.

“Doppo,” you chide, faking a gasp. “You didn’t put a period on that last sentence of your paperwork. You can’t just leave it…unfinished like that.”

Kunikida pulls off his glasses, his expression stern. “This time,” he proclaims, his voice deep and momentous, “I’ll make an exception.”

Kunikida drives you home, driving so close to the speed limit he’s practically edging it, with one hand buried firmly between your thighs. If you’re very misbehaved, he might use his notebook to conjure something to keep you…occupied…on the drive home.

Dazai Osamu

You went one better for this and stole Dazai’s trenchcoat. Let’s leave it up for debate whether he knew what you were up to and let you steal his coat to pull off your little performance—it’s more fun that way. 

Because it’s Dazai, you arrange to meet at a bar for a date. Preferably one where he’s not already run up a tab or been slapped by all of the female bartenders and waiting staff. There are a few of those left in Yokohama, you just have to look really hard for them. 

When you arrive, Dazai is sitting on a barstool, one foot propped on the footrest, his elbows on the bar. He’s sans trenchcoat, dressed in his dark waistcoat, with the sleeves of his blue pinstripe shirt rolled up to his mid-forearm, revealing the bandages wrapped around his wrists. Spotting you in the reflection of the bottles behind the bar, he glances over at you. Dazai’s dark eyes sweep over you from head to toe, and he immediately knows there’s something interesting going on beneath that trenchcoat.

“You know,” he drawls. “I lost a coat just like that this morning. It’s quite the startling coincidence, don’t you think?”

He's so intrigued that he even cracks open his wallet to buy you a drink (shocking, I know). Dazai's eyes are glued to the sight of you cinched into his coat. His eyes drop down when you sit on the barstool beside him, crossing your legs. His fingers tighten around the cut crystal of his glass. 

"Is that...lace?"

At your smug confirmation that is indeed lace, Dazai knocks back his drink. No time to savour the liquor. He pinches the hem of the trenchcoat and lifts it up a little further to see the stocking clinging to your thigh. 

Dazai's eyes glint dangerously in the dim overhead lights of the bar. 

"Bella." His voice is a lusty purr as his hand runs up your thigh, fingers plucking at the top of your stocking, tracing circles into your soft flesh. "I'll give you a thirty second head start. When I catch up to you..."

I hope you can find somewhere relatively private in the next thirty seconds. 

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

If you thought it might be a good idea to copy the move above and wear Akutagawa’s trenchcoat over your lingerie, let me gently pry that idea from your eager little hands. It is not a good idea, and it will not end well. Just get your own trenchcoat. Maybe in a nice shade of camel?

Akutagawa waits impatiently for you in the middle of town, watching the civilians amble around between stores, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He doesn't know why you asked to meet him here, but it feels like a waste of his time. He decides he will wait only five more minutes before he leaves.

A flicker of something pale from the corner of his eye. It's a Pavlovian response—Akutagawa's head whips around. Instead of his former master, he instead spots you click-clacking toward him in a pair of heels, wrapped in a light trenchcoat. Hair? Done. Make-up? Flawless. 

Akutagawa's forehead furrows, his voice pitched low with annoyance and confusion. "Why are you wearing that?"

You're used to his pricky demeanour by now and it doesn't faze you. You turn so you are facing away from the crowds, slowly untying the belt. You peel open the front of the waistcoat enough to give Akutagawa a glimpse of what lies underneath. 

Black lace. Smooth skin. Silk. 

His throat tightens, and for once it doesn't signal the onset of a coughing fit. Akutagawa's eyes widen, his teeth and fists clenching.

"What in the hells are you wearing?" he demands.

"Lingerie," you say, retying the the belt of your trenchcoat. "Don't you like it?"

Akutagawa knows every alley and alcove of Yokohama. Every blind spot and dead end. He puts this knowledge to good use as he manhandles you into the nearest semi-private spot. Bands of Rashoumon wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you up against the alleyway wall. 

Akutagawa's pale hands tremble with suppressed excitement as he unties the trenchcoat and peels it open again. The sight of you, dressed in such a lewd fashion and bound, makes his cock harden fast enough to make him dizzy. His voice is low, curt.

"If you insist on dressing like a harlot, I shall treat you like one. After all, that is what you wanted, is it not? My attention."

Please don't worry about making any noise. He'll simply use Rashoumon to gag you. <3

Nakajima Atsushi

Oh dear, are you trying to give the poor boy a heart attack?

Atsushi is at the Armed Detective Agency office alone. Perhaps it's lunchtime and the rest of the agents and staff have retired downstairs for coffee and lunch at Cafe Uzumaki. Atsushi needs to finish his report, or he's flat broke and doesn't want to have to mooch of Kunikida in the cafe again, so he's eating some cold rice balls at his desk.

He sputters on a mouthful of onigiri when the door swings open, popping up like a daisy from his desk, expecting it to be a client. He sags in relief when he sees it is just you, hastily brushing some grains of rice from the front of his shirt.

“Hi!”

Oh, he’s so chirpy to see you. It really is adorable. Look at how the smile blossoms on his face. There are practically sparkles coming off him as he heads toward you. 

Only for Atsushi to stop in his tracks when you casually untie the front of your coat and flash him the sight of your body in sweet, pink-and-white lingerie. You’re frosted in lace and frills like a little cupcake, and Atsushi’s brain jams like the printer.

“H-buh? Whuh? You…you…”

His face burns crimson, standing out stark against his white hair, and he whips his head around to make sure there is no one else in the office, even though he’s relatively sure he’s alone. Atsushi grabs the front of your coat and covers you up, flushing when you laugh at his embarrassment.

“What are you wearing?” he hisses, his eyes wide as saucers. “Why are you wearing it here?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise~”

“It is,” he stammers. “It’s very…it’s so nice.” He opens the coat a little, peeking at what lies beneath, before closing it again, his ears burning. “But…but not here. Maybe at home?”

You give an airy shrug. “Perhaps you can tell Kunikida you weren’t feeling well so you had to go home early?”

Smash cut to Atsushi fake-coughing down the phone to Kunikida. 

Nakahara Chuuya

It's late. Yokohama is a glittering sprawl beneath the windows of Chuuya's plush office. The office is dim, save for the light of his laptop screen and the recessed, moody red lighting of his shelves. He eases away from his emails, rubbing at his eyes, and crosses the room to pour himself a whiskey from the cut glass decanters. 

For Chuuya, 'working late' often involves taking a few heavies and going to threaten someone, not sitting and trawling through emails, but now and then he needs to engage with the corporate bullshit that comes with being an executive. 

The buzz of his personal phone draws his attention. He scoops it up, his thumb tapping the screen. He has his gloves made custom so they work with touchscreens. A text message from you pops open and he grins, leaning against the edge of his desk. 

The image is simple, but evocative. Smooth skin under red lace. He's not even entirely sure which body part it is, but it's tantalising all the same. He's sure he'll find out after your dinner reservation that evening. Steak, of course.

A knock sounds at his office door and he lets out an annoyed grunt, immediately locking his phone and laying it facedown on his desk. 

"Yeah, come in."

His annoyance evaporates the moment you saunter in, all high heels and cinched black trenchcoat. And damn, is that red lipstick? It is. 

"Hey, doll. Whatcha doin' here?" 

He's running his gaze over that trenchcoat, trying to imagine what you're wearing underneath. His smile widens into a full-blown grin when you turn and lock the door behind you. 

"Don't know where this is comin' from, but I like where it's goin'."

You make a show of it, untying the knot on the belt, letting the smooth fabric rasp as it slides against itself. First baring one shoulder, then the next, shimmying the coat off you like its a fur stole. It crumples to the ground, leaving you in all your glory.

Chuuya drags a hand down his face, letting out a low, ragged laugh that sounds just this side of feral.

"Fuck, dollface..."

Bro launches himself at you, pushing you up against the back of his office door. His gloved hands slide over your bare skin, gravity starting to make less and less of an impression on you as he floats you. His mouth crushes against yours. 

Unfortunately, you miss your dinner reservation by several hours. 

[underthetree845]

chuuya taking his hat off to hide when he kisses his partner 🤭

Hello saturn lovely! Sorry this took me so long to finish TwT I love the prompt, but as you know writer's block hit me kinda hard the second semester of school so over the summer I've been trying to get back into the swing of posting once in a while!

Hope you enjoy <3 thank you for the request! _

Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Nakahara Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)

cws: fem! reader, established relationship, bungou stray dogs s5 spoilers, meursault arc spoilers, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda? there was a little hurt, reuniting, airport reunion, ada dazai, reader cries about 2.5k words summary: Chuuya disappeared on a business trip for three whole days with no explanation- and no one would tell you why. Now he's returned to japan and back in your arms. a/n: This is my last fic for the summer before school starts aaa qwq I'm glad I was able to finish it before the semester starts though! *sigh* am I really incapable of writing something like this without accidentally creating so much plot? Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3 divider credit: (x) (x) ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ Chuuya had never considered himself to be a very possessive man; or a possessive boyfriend, for that matter. Protective, sure, but how could anyone expect him not to be? He understood, probably better than most, the risks that came with even so much as associating with a person in his position. It made Chuuya’s stomach churn unpleasantly to even imagine putting you in any sort of danger, so he used his position (along with the power and assets that came with it) to take certain preventative measures. The penthouse you shared was equipped with state of the art security, a technological system truly fit for an executive of the Port Mafia. Additionally, in case you ever needed to travel long distances without him, Chuuya often kept a trusted chauffeur on call. This individual also happened to be a professionally trained underground bodyguard of his personal selection. Even so, Chuuya knew you had a good head on your shoulders. He trusted that you would try to keep yourself out of trouble, or call for him at the first sign of it. It didn’t matter if he was on the road, halfway through a private meeting, or in the middle of pummeling down an enemy organization. Chuuya had always been a man with his priorities set straight. Not even Mori’s notifications were set to come through on silent mode. Coming home to you at the end of the day, allowing you to soothe away the crease between his brows, your voice uttering sweet nothings against the shell of his ear. You had become his lifeline, irreversibly carved your name into every cell of his body. He’d do anything to erase your pain, and it was making his heart break more than anything to know that he was the cause of the salty tears now streaming over your lash line. Chuuya did his best to hold back an ‘oof’ when you threw your frame into his own, burying your sobs in the crook of his neck. He was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of your perfume, the familiar feeling of your body against his own, the softness of the sweater you wore, and the glimmer that never seemed to escape your eyes. The red colored contacts from earlier had given Chuuya one hell of a headache, which only added to the pressure from taking off and being stuck in one of the mafia’s smallest private jets with the most insufferable jackass he’d ever met and some hair dye obsessed casino manager passed out on one of the couches. Chuuya’s gloved fingers almost trembled as they gripped the fabric of your shirt. He lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other remained planted firmly on your lower back.

Sakaguchi Ango, if Chuuya remembered correctly, stood a few yards away. He simply observed the situation from afar, as if he dared not insert himself into the scene. A government agent whom Dazai used to maintain his connection with the outside world. Ango stood with one hand folded neatly over the other behind his back, the faint ghost of a smile residing behind his glasses as he watched Dazai reunite with his fellow agency members. The brunette walked on a crutch, but the uncharacteristically tired look in his eyes brightened ever so slightly when he was swarmed by his coworkers. Chuuya continued to hold you close, patiently waiting for your sobs to die down enough for you to be able to speak coherently. He loosened his grip slightly, removing one of his leather gloves behind your back and bringing that same hand up to cup your face. A whisper of your name left his lips, and your teary eyes finally refocused to meet the warmth of his own. “Chuuya… how could you just leave?” your voice cracked; he could see the hurt in your eyes. Guilt crept into his chest, eyebrows knitting together as you subconsciously leaned into his palm. This was exactly the sort of thing Chuuya promised himself he’d never do. You were the absolute number one priority in his life. There was no doubt in his mind; he didn’t want there to be any doubt in yours either. “I know, Doll, ‘m sorry, it was never my intention…” he muttered, allowing you to rest your hands on his chest. “I know that’s a shit excuse, but I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” A beat of silence passed, the indistinct chatter of the agency fell on deaf ears as you zoned in on the man in front of you. His breath, the way his eyes searched your expression, how you could once again feel the warmth of his skin against your own. “You’re not hurt, are you?” your voice was pricked with concern, hands gentle as you cupped his jaw and turned his head from side to side. Chuuya let out a breath, fondness flickering in his irises at your concern. “Barely a scratch,” he murmured, and you seemed to accept his answer. “Chuuya,” you started, and his gaze locked onto yours. He voiced your name in response. “I need you to promise me something, please?” “Anything.” 

You bit your lip. Your mind told you it was a selfish request. You understood, probably better than most, how unpredictable your boyfriend’s line of work could be. But you had accepted it as an adequate price to pay for his love when the two of you started seeing each other, even more so when you moved in together. He was yours, you believed it with every fiber of your being. Chuuya had told enough stories of his old work partner for you to gather that the two had never exactly been the chummiest of pals. So the fact that they cooperated for this mission must’ve meant that it couldn’t have been a minor dilemma. You understood why Chuuya made the decision he did, and that it was probably just as difficult on him. Albeit, that didn’t make your feelings any less real. Your heart reminded you of the unconditional love and comfort that Chuuya always offered you. You knew he’d never intentionally hurt your feelings, especially not without talking it out and making up for it in some way afterward. “Doll…?” he barely breathed, giving you all the space you needed to voice what was on your mind. You took a deep breath. “Don’t… please don’t scare me like that again,” your voice wavered as you spoke, “Everything on the news is scary. And every time I watch it all I can think about is the fact that you’re out there.” You took a moment to glance at the group of Armed Detective Agency members on the airport runway to your left. One of the so-called terrorists you heard about on the news stood amongst the group about ten feet away from where you watched. The world was confusing, and scary, but there was a certain security in your heart that told you as long as you had Chuuya by your side, everything would be okay. “First you’re leaving before sunrise and staying out late on special missions, and I get it, I really do…” you felt a lump beginning to form in your throat, threatening to make you choke over your words, “but then you just leave on a business trip to Europe without so much as a ‘goodbye, I’ll be home soon’? And I have to find out from a call from your boss? I didn’t- I still don’t understand what’s happening. Do you know how scared I was? That I might not ever see you again?” Chuuya’s thumb swiped away the teardrop that ran down your cheek, his eyes trailing over your expression. “You’re right, it’s not fair… I don’t think I could ever apologize enough,” he began, his hold on you tightening slightly, “All that I can ask is for you to understand. I can explain everything to you when we get home. And I promise, I’ll do my best to not leave you in the dark so suddenly. It was an urgent mission, but it must have been scary. You’ll never have to feel like that again, not if I can help it.” Chuuya’s face softened, the corners of your lips curving up slightly at his sincerity as he cupped your cheek. “Shit… you deserve so much better.” You stood there for a moment, just breathing. Soaking in each other’s presence as your heartbeat gradually fell back to its usual pace.

“My my, Slug, is this the lovely lady you were so eager to get back to?” a voice chimed from your left, and you turned your head to face the man at the same time Chuuya snapped his head in that direction. Your boyfriend clicked his teeth, pressing your body closer to his own. “What’s it to you, huh, Dazai?” Chuuya was clearly trying to suppress his irritation. He was doing especially well, considering the fact that he had been holed up next to Dazai on an airplane for the past fourteen hours. “I’m just trying to acquaint myself,” the man went on, a grin playing on his lips despite Chuuya’s glare, “As a responsible owner, I should at least make sure my dog is in good hands.” You tilted your head slightly, and Chuuya sucked in a breath. “You’re treading on some pretty thin ice, Mackerel,” he growled through gritted teeth, “Watch what you say around my girl.” The taller man only took a step forward, his eyes glittering in amusement, a sharp contrast to the hollowed out, almost dead look he carried earlier. “Oh? Holding back your more vulgar language around the lady?” Dazai hummed with mild intrigue, “Perhaps my dog is being well taken care of.” You simply stood and watched with intrigue, the interaction clearly more complex than distinguishable at first glance. Despite their constant verbal jabs and ostentatious insults toward each other, there was a sense of familiarity between the two that was almost palpable to you. They bounced off each other, knowing exactly which buttons to press and which ones to avoid. It was probably a welcome change of tone in contrast to what they had just been through. Your gaze flickered between the two once more, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in Chuuya’s shoulders had been released. “Dazai-san?” your voice was level, and both of the men fell silent to give you their attention. You looked at your beloved, then to his ex-partner, then Chuuya, then Dazai again. Mirth swam in your eyes. “I want to thank you for making sure Chuuya was able to return home safely today. Truly, I cannot thank you enough.” You gave a slight bow of your head, and Chuuya looked like he wanted to protest. For once, Dazai didn’t immediately produce a response; he fell silent at your sentiment. This time, a gentler smile curved onto his lips. “Please spare me, Miss,” Dazai began, “Truth be told, I don’t believe I could have made it out without Chuuya’s help either.” The redhead raised his eyebrows. "I'm passing him into your capable hands now. I trust you’ll take good care of him?” Dazai seemed satisfied with the chuckle that slipped from your throat. “You have nothing to worry about,” you replied, “And I trust that your detective agency will treat you well?” “They always have.” Chuuya let out a breath, sharing a look with his partner before turning to face a black passenger vehicle that had pulled up a short distance away. Tinted windows that prevented anyone outside from peeking in; glass, body, and tires that were all bulletproof. It was one of the mafia’s. 

“C’mon Dollface, we should get going. Don’t wanna be here when the press shows up, and the boss is probably dying for me to give him a call,” Chuuya nodded his head in the direction of the car; you brought your hand up to give a small wave to Dazai and the handful of agency members further away who glanced in your direction. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, allowing your head to rest on Chuuya’s shoulder as you made your way to the car. You felt like you could finally breathe properly again. The door unlocked with a quiet click. Chuuya swung open the door of the vehicle with his non gloved hand and stepped aside to allow you to enter first. “...Chuu?” you started quietly, taking a step closer to where he stood. “Hm?” he raised an eyebrow. You placed your hands loosely on the back of his neck, fingers intertwined; Chuuya responded by resting his hands on your hips, listening intently.  You could have held more of a grudge. He disappeared overnight without a word, and no one would tell you why. You’d been on edge for three days straight. Hardly even sleeping through the night as you kept up with the news almost obsessively, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. To be able to hold Chuuya close again so easily felt almost surreal. A soft smile creeped into your expression, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you tilted your head to the side. Chuuya’s breath stilled. “I’m just…” you paused for a moment, your voice pouring with sincerity, “I’m really glad you’re back, and that you’re safe.” Chuuya paused for another moment, studying you carefully as an equally tender look came to his face. He glanced to the side for a moment, and let out a disgruntled huff upon discovering that Dazai’s head was still tilted in your direction; he kept a curious eye on the situation from several meters away. Your boyfriend pursed his lips for a moment before snaking one of his hands further around your waist. He plucked his pork pie hat off the crown of his head, and before you had the chance to realize what was going on, you were already being gracefully tilted backwards, forcing your hands to grip onto the lapel of Chuuya’s jacket for support. Everything seemed to still the moment he slotted his lips into yours, holding his hat up to act as a shield from certain prying eyes. You didn’t hesitate to pull him in closer, your lashes fluttering shut as you savored what you felt like you had been missing for an eternity. Chuuya’s eyes were shut in concentration, his heart thrumming with delight at the familiar sensation of your lips molded against his own. Chuuya didn’t pull away until you were both light-headed from the lack of air. Cheeks flooded with warmth, looking at each other as if you were the only two people in the entire world. “I missed you so fucking much, you know that?” Chuuya’s voice was low as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. The two of you stood straight, lingering in each other’s embrace for a moment longer. Chuuya lightly tossed his hat inside the car and once more gestured with his arm out for you to enter first. The satisfied smile on his lips morphed into one of slight perplexion when you didn’t show a reaction, raising your fingertips to brush over your lips. “Chuuya?” you questioned, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He replied with your name, all the more puzzled when you let out an incredulous chuckle. “Since when are your teeth so sharp?” 

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ a/n: Thank you so much for reading! Have a day/night/morning/evening as lovely as yourself. tagging: @judasgot-it (I noticed that I wrote down that I agreed to tag you for chuuya fics but I can't seem to remember why?? TwT please tell me if this is incorrect! Thank you <3)

[amateurasterism]

everyone knew he was attractive. he knew it too, because every year on february 14th he dreaded opening his locker. dreaded the absurd amount of chocolates and tacky gifts that he never understood why obsessive classmates would spend time to make for a blatant and dull person like him. he doesn’t even think any of him have seen him smile. but after meeting a certain someone, he added two very important steps to his valentines day routine. before giving the gigantic bag of gifts to his eager friends, he sorted through every single one in search of his favorite candy bar he only told you about, always wrapped in a slip of bright pink paper because you wanted to blend in with the other gifts. as if he couldn’t tell it was your handwriting in which the paper read “never forget how proud i am of you.” as if he didn’t know you were the only one out of a hundred chocolates who would write such a message that belonged on the pin board above his desk because it reminded him that you were the only person who loved him under his gorgeous looks, who saw him for the work he put into the things he loved. and thus, his last step on valentines day was to take a photo of the half-eaten candy bar and send it to you with a message that reads “should’ve given it to me face-to-face, coward.” to which you would respond with “i could say the same thing about the chocolate covered-strawberries you made for me. if you’re not confident in how they taste, should’ve just told me.”

ITOSHI SAE, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento,TSUKISHIMA KEI, kageyama tobio, suna rintaro, iwaizumi hajime, MIDORIMA SHINTARO, aomine daiki, akutagawa ryunoske, CHUUYA NAKAHARA, levi ackerman

[deonsx]

How Did You Meet Them?

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya,Fyodor

Dazai Osamu

• This was definitely not a coincidence and he was the first one to notice you, it was never difficult for him to get the woman he wanted, after all, he is really a handsome brunette with curly brown hair, tall height, quick wit, sensual words and two brown orb eyes that shine like gold

• You first met him at the cafe under the agency, or rather, you came to get coffee with your friend, you didn't even have to think about what exactly to do to attract his attention. While you were waiting, he took your number from you and placed a kiss on your hand. That day, he made you think that he was a very gentleman, so you gave him the number easily

"When I first saw your mother, I said 'This is the woman I was looking for" ~Fifteen Years Later

Chuuya Nakahara

• Of course, he wasn't the one who made the first move, Chuuya is a man who doesn't pay that much attention to his surroundings and doesn't look for love. His priorities are his career and himself. Since he isn't looking for a love life, it will take him a long time to like someone

• You met him absolutely randomly. One day, you were waiting for your bus, following your usual routine, but since it didn't arrive, you were already late for your destination, and you sat on the road and waited, not knowing what to do. Since you were waiting at the traffic lights, a biker standing there caught your attention, and as a last resort, you came right next to him

• "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Can you drop me off at my **** workplace on your way? I'm already late. Please, my only option is...-" The biker opened the eye part of his helmet while the lights were still burning red, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes looked like they were penetrating his soul "Well..I'm sorry-" interrupted him "Get in quickly"

"That's how lucky I met your mother” ~Fifteen Years Later

Fyodor Dostoyevski

• We have come to the most difficult person...yes, you will not be able to meet him, he will meet you and no, this cannot be a coincidence..it cannot be because he does not leave his house, works all the time and is awake every day without sleep, so he will definitely choose you as a victim, unfortunately, this is the highest probability

• The possibility of an enemy to love relationship is high, but he definitely chose you first to use you and then gave up on it, but it is impossible to know the reason, you cannot understand that he is in love with you, even his way of flirting would be by reading poems or playing the cello for you

"Back in the day, your mother used to listen to the music I played with pleasure" ~ Fifteen Years Later

Enjoy!

[thedarkdisgrace]

Random thread from twitter I made about Chuuya, who he is, with quotes from Storm Bringer:

“Don’t act like you’re the good guy here, Verlaine. Yeah, this researcher’s a piece of shit, but you’re the one who killed my friends.” Chuuya smacked himself in the chest. “I can feel their lives burning right here inside me and till those flames die down, I can’t just do whatever I want. I’m gonna do what I need to do. That’s who I am.”

….

“The light in his eyes was determination. It was the powerful brilliance of humankind, something gained only through encounters and partings with other people.”

“You’ve been completely wrong from the very start,” Chuuya spat in disgust. “‘Being born was a mistake’? Sounds like the kind of garbage Dazai would spew, and no way in hell am I ever gonna think the way he does!”

—

Chuuya being brutally tortured by N only minutes before the above quotes take place but all he cares about is avenging his friends.

Chuuya doesn’t let Verlaine push his views onto him. Chuuya knows who he is & he’ll suffer anything to protect those he cares about & he believes people are *worth it all*.

Also Chuuya sacrificing his last chance to confirm he’s human (which we know he is human by the epilogue) to save the city without even giving it that much thought when even *Dazai* thought it was important to consider. Dazai was willing to sacrifice the city if Chuuya chose to find out if he’s human. But it took Chuuya less than 30 seconds to sacrifice his own wants to activate corruption for the first time & save the city.

“Right as he had made his way down three steps, he heard a refreshing clank from behind. It sounded like someone had just leaped off a metal plank. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, he looked back in surprise. There was nobody on top of the platform anymore.

After staring in mute amazement for a brief moment, his lips eased into a smile.

‘Show-off.’ ”

Chuuya also saved the city again in Dead Apple without any real guarantees (aside the skk soulmateism bond and mind reading) that Dazai wasn’t dead & would be able to nullify corruption. But he used corruption and fought that dragon without a second thought to save the city & Dazai yet again.

He’s also the one who saved the ADA initially from the Hunting Dogs (on orders of course but still) and is the only reason Dazai survived Meursault.

Chuuya will always suffer for & sacrifice himself for the people he cares about & the city he wants to protect.

That’s who he is & I love him for that intense passion, love & care. He deserves nothing less than the same care in return. I love Chuuya Nakahara

(Oh, friendly reminder Chuuya was 16 in Storm Bringer when he went through all that 🙃)

[lazyflower48]

So I just saw something really interesting. We know that the next episode is titled "Twilight Goodbye"

Well, in Nakahara Chuuya's "Poems of the Goat" there are two poems called "The Terrible Twilight" and "The Twilight of This Spring Day"

Another thing to note is that Dazai Osamu's very last work was called "Goodbye" which was left unfinished because of his death

One thing that's also on my mind is what Kisho Taniyama (Chuuya's VA) said in an interview regarding s5:

"If you watch this fifth season all the way to the end, i think you will be able to feel more of the depth of the relationship that Dazai and Chuuya have established."

Emphasis on "all the way to the end"

I'm not too sure as to what to make of this honestly cause my mind is a mess after this episode

[musamora]

𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 「𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

characters. bungou stray dogs. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma.

content. f!reader. mentions of violence, mentions of suicide attempts (dazai), alcohol (chuuya), harassment (chuuya), cussing, general sappiness. not proofread.

author's note. this started as a writing exercise to get my writing inspo flowing again, and then i began working on it on and off for a week. so enjoy! this is also an attempt to nail some of their character's down, so hopefully it isn't too OOC.

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

synopsis. what nicknames do the bungo stray dogs boys call their girlfriend?

𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 ⋆ (𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘)-𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

The darkened alleyway had become thick with the stench of gunpowder and smoke, streetlights barely illuminating your path in the hush of night. You patrolled the area with quick, swift feet, hovering your gun near your hip in case of an ambush. Each step made your heart pound, sweat mixing with humidity to drench your skin as you inched toward the corner.

However, to both your dismay and prediction, Dazai wasn't taking this mission seriously—though he rarely did. It both aggravated and appeased you, knowing that if the situation became dangerous, he'd straighten up in a heartbeat. That didn't mean that his blissed smile and the skip in his step as he went on about the euphoria of death and the many methods he could die from didn't unnerve you.

Knowing him, he wouldn't mind getting shot.

"You know, my dear," he smirked, leaning close to your shoulder to whisper into your ear. "You're very sexy when you're serious." "Dazai," you chided, face stilled into an unamused expression. He fell back dramatically, flailing his hands into the air in surrender. "Oh, belladonna! That stern stare — I hope that beautiful expression is the last sight I see in this cruel world!" he cried, but much to his disdain, you had already rounded the corner, completely done with his antics. "(Name)-channnn!~ Don't leave me hereeee!"

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗘 ⋆ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬 ⋆ 𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗬

It had been a strenuous day at the office for everyone, including you—a plethora of insane missions always followed by mountains of paperwork that never seemed to end. It was almost too much to bear. You huffed, leaning against your hand as you desperately tried to not fall asleep due to your exhaustion.

A pair of large, warm hands rested on your shoulders, massaging just the right spots in your taut muscles. You sighed, allowing yourself to lean back in your chair and enjoy the temporary reprieve. However, the owner of those hands had different plans, hot breath blowing against your ear as he bent down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Dazai chuckled to himself, enjoying your immediate reaction to straighten up, eyes pointed to the screen in an effort to avoid reacting.

You were just too cute.

He cooed out a plethora of sweet nothings in a low, hushed timbre as he tempted a flustered expression out of your face. And one thing that everyone should know about Osamu Dazai—he always gets what he wants when he puts his mind to it.

"Heyyy, sweetie. How's the paperwork going?" You continued to type. "Why won't you pay attention to me!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he slumped against you. "Come onnn, honey. Don't you love me anymore?" You typed harder. He sniffled. "My little wifey doesn't love me anymore." You paused. "Whaat? Too forward?"

𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗟

Only strays wandered the streets at this time of night, but Dazai found himself itching to join them with each passing second. Sleep never easily came to the former demon prodigy. He found that each time he closed his eyes, he was only met with flashes of the past and disillusions of the future. His sharp mind would continue to turn like a machine, processing every granule of information as if he were inspecting an hourglass—a process that had become routine for him.

"Osamu..."

However, your intrusion into his nightfall rituals had soothed his instinctual aches. His eyes glazed over your drowsy figure, admiring the displacement of your hair and the heaviness of your eyes with an emotion he could only describe as awe.

Because in these moments, you didn't even have to be awake and looking at him to make him feel invigorated—feel alive. And with you, he didn't hate being alive anymore, didn't hate acknowledging his human flaws and issues. He just embraced it, even for only a second.

The rational part of his brain dissipated when he felt your warm, bare skin brush against his bandages, snuggling up to him. He knew his brain became useless in your presence, overcome with pure adulation for your mind, your body, and your very soul. So instead, he pulled you close, nuzzling his face in your neck and listening to the rhythmic pulse of your heart as it worked to soothe him to sleep.

"Good night, beautiful."

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗘

The murmurs of the restaurant had been dampened by a luxurious and vast velvet curtain, enclosing the entire booth to separate you from the other patrons. Lights sparkled from a dazzling chandelier, creating ribbons of gold and white on the tablecloth. This was a special occasion since you rarely had dates outside of your apartment. Chuuya always wanted to take you out more often, to show you off and treat you to the finest, but there never was time. So even when you insisted you could stay inside for a date this evening, he had already planned on spoiling you rotten.

He watched your expression between folded hands, hiding his smirk as the waiter set down an extremely expensive bottle of red wine. You had insisted on getting the more recent and cheaper version, not wanting to splurge too much—which, of course, insulted him. How could he not provide the best for his partner whenever he got the chance?

"Stop gaping, babe," he tutted at your widened eyes, tone lighter than the biting edge it usually held. "Whaddya say we snap over the 1959 Chateau Latour, hm?"

𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 ⋆ 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬

You had been working the late shift at your office building, slaving the day away only to come out on the other side with an aching back and a small paycheck. Despite Chuuya's suggestion that you could quit your job and let him take care of you, you wanted to maintain your independence and some additional money, which he understood. So here you were, trudging home from the train station with heavy feet and tired eyes. Seeing the apartment complex in the distance made your heart soar, a pep in your step as you started to practically glide down the sidewalk.

"Heyyyy, baby. Lookin' good tonight. That outfit for me, huh?"

Grimacing, you ignored the disgusting cat-calls from the random stranger in favor of increasing your speed to reach the building. You could practically smell the woody cologne coming from Chuuya's jacket, but your blissful thoughts were interrupted by a set of hefty footsteps behind you. This would've been normal during the day, but no one else is out this late at night—except one person.

With tremoring fingers, you lifted your cell phone ever-so-slightly, finding that strange man walking at a brisk pace behind you in the reflection. It set off too many alarm bells in your head, and your walking turned into sprinting.

It just so happened that Chuuya was leaning on one of the pillars outside of your apartment complex. He never liked when you worked the late-shift, and he definitely didn't like when you walked home by yourself—however, you had insisted that you would be fine. He relented, enjoying the independent aspect of your personality, but he still had his precautions.

He straightened up with a passive expression when he saw your shadowed silhouette in the distance, but his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tensed once he spotted the man who was running after you. Using his gravity manipulation, he pulled you closer to him and had the pervert sink into the ground, sizing him up with burning eyes.

His gloved hand went to your back, easing your trembling body. "Go inside, baby. You don't need'ta be involved in this shit." He watched carefully as you rushed inside the lobby, before slamming the man onto the hard concrete, a foot digging into his spine. "Listen, shithead. You ever look at my doll again, I fucking swear to God—" He never let you walk home alone after this, not like you were complaining much. And that man would never bother you again, if he was even still capable of walking.

𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦

It had been an absolutely draining day for Chuuya. With his position as an executive, you would assume that he wouldn't have to deal with the low-life freeloaders that the Port Mafia was bound to have, but it was exactly the opposite. He had been stuck for hours finishing a bunch of incident reports due to the destruction of properties on the southwestern side of Yokohama—incidents he was somehow not involved in.

He groaned as he entered the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it with his hat before a hearty aroma hit him. He followed his nose to the stove, finding an intricately wrapped dish with a note taped on top.

Make sure you eat before you go to bed. You need to grow big and strong. Love you! ♥

If it were from anyone else, he would've ripped the note apart when he hit the jab at his height—and he definitely scowled a bit—but there was a hint of endearance in his expression. He lifted the tin foil covering the food, feasting on the sight of penne alla vodka.

A raspy sound took him out of his ogling, his eyes scanning the darkened living room to find the one person he had been dying to see—you. And what a sight you were, drool trailed down your chin, a half-empty dish of pasta lying limply in your arms, and hair tousled as your neck bent at an awkward angle to rest against the cushions.

He couldn't help a small laugh at the sight, placing your plate on the coffee table and wiping the baby hairs out of your face, leaving a fleeting kiss on your forehead. In moments like this, with the disarray and train wreck his life had been, he found himself grateful for such simple, domestic sights. It enveloped him in a sense of peace, feeling at home for the first time.

"Hey, princess," he whispered with another peck to your temple. "I'm home."

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗘𝗩𝗦𝗞𝗬 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

The pet names featured below are in Russian.

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥

Fyodor rarely, if ever, used nicknames of any kind in public. With his specific occupation, it would be detrimental to reveal any kind of attachment to anyone, regardless of whether you were capable of defending yourself. However, rarely does not mean never.

It was an unusual occasion; a completely public date at a local café—you knew that he loved his tea and suggested it in the off-chance that it would possibly sway him to join you. You assumed that he'd say no, but he always found himself having a hard time denying you when you proposed it so sweetly.

However, you knew that you needed to be efficient with your time. You enjoy each other's company in a secluded corner of the café while also multitasking on your own work. The room emitted a wonderful ambiance that made you feel productive and inspired, though it was simultaneously cozy enough to relax in—for you, that was. Most of Fyodor's work required him to be in seclusion, so instead he enjoyed the view—both of the skies outside and a couple of stray glimpses at you.

"Drink for (Name)," a barista called.

Fyodor looked toward you expectantly, but you were far too in your own little world to notice. He would've normally broken your workflow, but he found himself oddly compelled to let you continue—he was awfully fond of the way your brows narrowed as you concentrated. So instead, he retrieved your drink, settling it on the table with a small clink.

"Here you are, dear."

𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔 (милая) ⋆ 𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗡𝗔𝗬𝗔 (радная) ⋆ 𝗟𝗨𝗕𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗬𝗔 (любимая)

It was in the privacy of your shared home that his native tongue came out, engrossing you with his rich Russian accent—he knew the effect it had on you, so sometimes he toyed around with you by slipping it into everyday interactions.

You walked into his computer room, careful to not trip on wires as you carried in a steaming thermal mug of fresh black tea. He was often far too engrossed in his work to eat or drink, so you found the least you could do was to make him some tea whenever you weren't busy.

You placed it next to him, leaning over to take a curious glance at the screen—not understanding a word of it—and you were about to silently exit when he placed a cold hand on top of yours. Your brow raised, watching the smile that appeared on his lips.

"Thank you, милая." You sputtered over your words at the praise, watching in anticipation as he took a sip. He hummed at the nectarous flavor, slouching as the tea worked to soothe his throat. The tea circled in the mug as he swirled it, watching carefully as he could feel your composure melt away. "Delicious as always, радная." You mumbled a quick thank you, turning like a gazelle on your heel to escape his predatory gaze, but his hand pulled you back. Completely captive in his hold, you looked back, a knowing smirk on his face. "Stay for a moment, любимая. I'd like to hear your thoughts on something."

𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗛𝗞𝗔 (мышка)

You honestly had no clue how you had gotten into this position.

One moment, you were cleaning around various rooms, making sure everything was dusted and organized. The next, you were sitting in Fyodor's lap—though you couldn't say you minded. An occasional hum vibrated against the top of your head as Fyodor concentrated on a book in one hand, the other fastened securely around your waist, rubbing circles into the clothed skin.

It took every ounce of self-control you had to limit your face to a neutral glance, staring at the words in his Russian novel as if you were trying to decipher them—you were; you didn't know a lick of the language. You leaned against his shoulder, listening to the faint thump of his heartbeat as it lured you into relaxation. His eyes began to drift from the page, finding your internal struggle incredibly amusing. He titled his face, holding back a smirk when you made a startled noise from a kiss to the temple.

Cute.

In these moments, he felt human again. Everywhere else in the world, he was either treated as a god or a demon—and that was the way he had orchestrated it. But here, in the home you both created, he felt that he had finally received his sanctuary. A place where he sat, welcomed and unjudged for his sins.

"You're quite warm, мышка," he teased. "Perhaps you are developing fever. Hm?"

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗚𝗢𝗟 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

The pet names featured below are in Ukrainian.

𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗞𝗔 (ластівка)

The fluorescent lights above burned your eyes as you scoured the aisles of the store aimlessly. You were on your weekly grocery run but had decided to make something different for dinner this week. There was only one problem—you didn't know where the ingredients were. You normally would've just asked one of the staff members, but you had unfortunately come into the store at a very late hour. Every time you looked at an employee, their eyes were glazed over as if wishing for the sweet release of death. So you decided to search on your own.

You scanned the shelves for a particular dressing, not finding it in its usual spot. It was only with a quick glance to the top shelf that you found it, teetering on the edge as if tempting you. Gritting your teeth, you outstretched your arm as you braced your other one on a lower shelf, only to shriek at the feeling of two hands supporting your hips. You whipped around to find the pervert who had touched you but found nothing. And then you looked down.

Damn him.

Two familiar gloves emerged from golden portals, and a mischievous chuckle accompanied their exit from down the aisle. You looked the white-haired jester up and down, crossing your arms with a pout.

"Did you have to startle me like that?" "Ohhh, sorry, ластівка," he cooed. "I only want to say hello!~"

𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (маленька моя) ⋆ 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 𝗞𝗢𝗞𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔 (моя кохана)

How did you manage to get into this mess?

Oh yeah, Nikolai suggested it.

The classic jester, in his hobby of wreaking havoc everywhere he goes, suggested a fun date-night idea—to light bin fires around the alleys of Yokohama until the police caught on. At first, you had been chasing after him in an attempt to stop him, but it had all been in vain. He would let you grab him, only to chuckle as he teleported away with his cape. So instead, you opted to stick by his side and make sure he didn't cause too much harm.

You stood a couple of feet away from the blazing fire, your body resting in the tranquil glow of the chaotic light. Despite the oddities that came with the situation—and every situation that involved Nikolai—there was something so welcoming about the discord. Perhaps you had finally become used to Nikolai's antics. The aforementioned jester had been gaping at you for some time, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched your features through the fire.

"You look breathtaking in the glow of a flame, маленька моя."You stilled at his serious tone, fumbling over a response, but a crescendoing wail of sirens broke the silence. Nikolai smirked, grabbing your arm with one hand as the other went into his overcoat. "Oops!~ Looks like the police caught on. Come on, моя кохана! This way!"

𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (душа моя)

A refreshing breeze rushed past your face as you settled, watching the sun make its descent below the horizon of the city's harbor. Your legs dangled dangerously over the edge of a steep cliffside, yet you found no fear remaining in your heart. Perhaps you have become accustomed to a life of chaos; find beauty in the entropy and contradictions of life.

Nikolai couldn't help but stare at your face as it was outlined by the shadows of the dying sunbeams, awe-struck by your beauty. You were ethereal to him, everything he ever wanted to be and wished to have—so grounded and yet freer than ever. He knew that the relationship between you two, something neither of you had dared to label, should've made him feel constricted. It tied him down to the ground, and he should've been fighting for the skies.

But he didn't.

He felt free. And he knew that it was most likely his heart tricking him, stringing him to a relationship that would disappear with the wind—that he had truly become the fool everyone thought of him as. But he didn't care. Not anymore. Not with you by his side.

He snapped out of his philosophical contemplation as a soft hand cupped his cheek, thumbing at the performative mask that he wore. And he folded it like a deck of cards, removing it before placing a chaste kiss on your palm.

"Somehow, I feel freer than ever before. And it's all thanks to you, душа моя."

𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧

It was a known fact that the Casino's manager had a rigid schedule, packed with meetings and event dates that he had to prepare for. Everything had to run perfectly inside his casino, and he would be damned if it didn't. However, Sigma always made it a mission to purposefully bump into you throughout the day. He had memorized your schedule easily, finding that there was only so much you could do in a finite building in the sky.

He would often find you either in the library or viewing deck, either in your own world reading a book or watching the real world from the skies. Even he had to admit that he could never get tired of the sight of the Earth from down below, contemplating the lives of those who lived on the ground.

"Good morning, dear," he greeted you at the entrance of the viewing deck, noticing a stack of books in your arms. "I see your trip to the library went well." "It was. I'm going to thumb through the newest shipment of fiction novels this afternoon," you replied, your hand already tapping on one of the hardcovers in anticipation. Sigma always made sure to buy the best books for the casino, and you knew he was often swayed by your own favorites. "I'm glad you're so interested in them." He knowingly smiled before a memory came to mind. "Could you hold off your reading for one moment, dearest? I've received a new layout for our casino's fliers and was hoping you'd take a look."

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⋆ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⋆ 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧

The anxious casino manager often forgot to eat because of his destructive work habits, often going hours without consuming anything in order to constantly maintain peace in his casino. It was a terrible habit that caused more stress for both of you, so you decided to enact a plan. Whenever you noticed his workload was becoming too much or he seemed too frazzled, you'd step in to make sure he was getting everything he needed.

A small (underlying word: large) part of him secretly reveled in this, both having the opportunity to be doted on—and be simultaneously scolded—while also relishing in a couple stress-free moments with you. And he also gets to enjoy your cooking, which he personally found better than the casino chefs'—but that's because he was biased.

On his worst days, you'd prance into his office after the casino lunch rush, carrying in tow a small bento packed with his favorite comfort foods and a cookie for dessert. He would look up from whatever paperwork he was slaving away on, a small smile on his tired face.

"Thank you, my love." "You really need to eat more, Sigma," you lectured, placing the bento on his desk to take his face into your hands, analyzing his eye-bags with a concerned expression. "You're gonna get sick." "I'm fine, lovely," he replied, cupping your hands with his own. "You don't need to worry about me." You struck him with a pointed glare, crossing your arms and tapping your foot as he began to work on paperwork again. The clock ticked by a couple of seconds, your maternal scowl deepening with each moment that passed where he didn't reach for the food. "Sweetheart," he sighed before relenting and reaching for the bento. "Fine. For you, I'll eat some. But only until C4276 finishes his blackjack game."

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘

The casino had been blasting with the sounds of the band in full swing long into the night, people dancing and chatting amongst themselves as the casino reached the peak of its ability. This new gala had been an exhilarating success, drawing in new patrons as cash flowed out from dealers' hands. It had been perfect, but it was obviously a lot on Sigma.

That was the reason you insisted on co-hosting it with him. He watched in amazement as you worked the crowd tonight, acting in concert to keep the patrons happy and to maintain order. You had been his perfect match, which showed just how much you watched over the casino.

He found you later that night standing on your private balcony, pausing at the entry to fully take in how beautiful you looked in your formal ensemble. The stars seemed to drift to your body like a satellite, casting you in a distant heavenly glow. But everything was silent as if you two were the only ones left to watch over the world as the clouds wandered by.

The anxiety and fear he always felt had been pushed to the side, melting away with the utter sense of belonging that you had engrained into him. You had shown him that he wasn't a mediocre man but a capable and strong individual capable of loving and being loved. You turned as the balcony door shifted open, welcoming him into both your arms and heart.

And he fell for you even more.

"Ohh, love of my life," he mumbled, nuzzled into your shoulder. "What would I be without you?"

милая = dear/darling радная = dear любимая = beloved мышка = mouse ластівка = swallow (bird) маленька моя = my little one моя кохана = my love душа моя = my soul

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat @kotysluny

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

JAMES DEAN DAYDREAM LOOK IN YOUR EYES ♫

rockstar! chuuya x popstar! reader

part 2/3

smut! you are responsible for what you read 💿

at an award show, the press make many speculations about your rising fame and your relationship with the infamous rockstar, chuuya nakahara.

inspired by style

midnight.

if there was an award show, chuuya was going. he was one of the youngest, most awarded rockstars ever. he's charming and handsome, with hands that play his guitar like a god. not to mention his sanguine voice coupled with his broody, meaningful lyrics. he was the subject of every teenage girl's heart.

he was a man that reveled in the fame, charming fans and interviewers alike. but for the most part, he insisted on letting the world watch him act. he knows damn well what the music industry can do to a star, and he's determined to rise above that.

still, every now and then theres a question that makes his gorgeous smirk falter.

"chuuya nakahara! can you tell us who you've been dating?"

"mr. nakahara! what do you have to say about moving on too fast?"

"chuuya! is it true you've started a relationship with Y/N L/N?"

he takes a deep breath. just dissassociate, and smile for the press. its what he does best. "i think some things are best left unsaid. right now, i'm focusing on my album, out november 1st."

the news of his new music is enough to distract adoring fans from his love life, instead heading the questions towards what he does best. all eyes are on him, orange hair slicked back and a loose, white classic shirt. his ability to look stunning despite the pressure brought upon by prying eyes is nothing short of remarkable.

he hears a lot about his newest music video, smiling every time he hears your name come up. the video you two had released sky-rocketed your name, and chuuya's just happy he could help. this time, he can genuinely smile- only when his mind flickers back to the acted, fake, and nothing more than a staged kiss. right?

funny how a fabricated kiss scene made his heart swell for weeks after.

its the first time he's felt that since his last relationship.

even though he's escaped, theres still people who speak on his past relationship, and evidently his past wrongdoings. for a moment there, it seems everyone believed he was a cheating bastard. that he was an unfaithful player who wanted woman like they were trophies. and for a minute, he was.

the fame had gotten to him. singing for thousands of fans, wining trophies and having his name on headlines made the rockstar believe he was invincible. but he wasn't. turns out too many shots of tequila and almost kissing a blonde girl he thought was his girlfriend can really mess up a rockstar. and it did.

the constant speculations on his relationship status made him sweat with anxiety. he fucked up and he knew it. he wasn't happy in his relationship, and found himself wishing for different in the end, but thats never an excuse to cheat. though he never did the deed, that almost was enough. there were reports and witnesses, enough for the media to take it and run. for months, his pr team worked day and night to keep the story at a minimum. and their efforts were surprisingly valiant, with higuchi choosing to stay quiet about the whole situation. chuuya never figured out why, even after their inevitable breakup, but he was thankful none the less.

somehow, you managed not to hear of the entire situation. maybe thats why chuuya was so eager to rope you into his life.

soon, he was no longer on fire. after a long waiting period, he was free to be adored again, leading him to make his music video with you, the same video that brought him back to this very award show, and the video that made him wish he could be next to you right now.

his anxiety is flaring up. he's still worried his career could go down in flames, that he'll never escape his monumental fuck up. that everything he's worked for won't be worth it if his guilt and regrets aren't monetized.

after a few short kisses and hugs, chuuya escapes to a private room, designated for singers and celebrities attending the show. the room is empty, with everyone already out there and dazzling the fans. everyone except you.

he blinks when he sees you touching up your bangs in the mirror. he knows that nervous shake in your hands all too well. this could end in burning flames or paradise.

he approaches, clearing his throat.

you immediately turn around, seeing him. his blue eyes are immediately drawn into your red lips- just what he likes

"you look nice." he utters, coming up next to you and adjusting his own appearance in the mirror. you had been in here for quite some time, bracing you and your pop-princess persona to get out there. somehow, chuuya senses this.

"this your first event?" he asks, blue eyes flickering to you. you nervously chuckle, almost wanting to lie but immediately knowing he'd call your bluff. "yeah... something like that."

he finds this endearing. and maybe he just wants to be close to you, to help you or because he's a god damn gentlemen, he silently wraps his arm around your waist and leads you out of the room.

the fact that this is your first time being so close to the paparazzi is not lost on chuuya. he studies your face, the way you answer questions so genuienely and so excitedly. he knows they wanna ruin your pretty face, and he prays your strong enough to overcome it.

he's so mesmerized by you he doesn't even notice the way photographers and interviewers are freaking out at the fact that chuuya nakahara and Y/N L/N just walked out on the carpet at the exact same time, fueling the already circulating rumors. he knows that they'll have a field day with tonight, but for once, he doesn't seem to mind. maybe because it's with you.

the two of you walk off, enjoying a few drinks and chatting. you've known chuuya nakahara: the rockstar. but now, you've been getting to know chuuya. the guy who loves small dogs, fancy hats and taylor swift. the guy who has the most embarrassing real laugh that he hides from the media. the guy who likes to stalk his own fanpages, and who can't say no to a signature.

and after a few more drinks and some soft arm touching, the two of you clammer into his limousine and speed off to his penthouse.

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

the media likes to believe they know everything about you and chuuya.

they’re convinced you two dating, that you’re using him for fame and that he’s moving on too fast from his relationship. that you’re not pretty or talented enough for him, or that he’s just a passing thought for you.

what they don’t know is that his head is between you thighs, eating you out like a god damn dessert.

your shaky hands fly to his hair, tugging at him while his lips work their magic. he’s fluid and elegant, yet rough while we works you through yet another orgasm.

every now and then he’ll spit on you, mesmerized by the way it drips down your already gushing pussy. he reaches and maddeningly trails his fingers in a sloppy pattern, letting his essence coat you before diving back in. he’ll start with one long stripe going up the length of your pussy, savouring your cries before diving in.

he’s relentless, determined to make your toes curl and back arch. he’ll let the tip of his tongue trace circles around your clit, watching how it throbs. his thumbs move to part you even further, giving him better access to this meal.

he absolutely ravages you, leaving no part untouched as he tongue-fucks you. his grip tightens on your thighs as you finally cum again, letting him lap it all up like its second nature.

your body and mind are buzzing as chuuya makes his way back up with a trail of kisses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “told you i only needed 5 minutes.”

despite your flushed out face and spent, trembling thighs, you utter: “s-shut up.”

he laughs, sitting up and getting you some water. his bedsheets are luxurious, as you wrap your naked body in them. when he returns, he sets it down on the beside and lazily lays next to you, lying on his stomach. his back looks great like this, all his muscles on display.

but you can’t shake something you overheard.

“did you really cheat on her?”

he blinks. of course you’d bring that up after having sex.

he sighs, knowing this was only a matter of time. he shouldn’t feel so guilty. he didn’t actually cheat, though he was close to it. some would argue the intent is betrayal enough.

you’re not sure how to feel. rumours are just rumours, especially in the celebrity world. but you want to know if the man you’ve been falling for has a history of unfaithfulness.

he runs his hands through his air, barely being able to look you in the eye. “i.. came close to it.”

he wants to vomit, having to talk about it again.

you simply nod, seeing on your phone the already sparkling headlines about yours and chuuya’s love lives again. if you doom scroll long enough, they’re already reigniting the flame of his past relationship and how it ended.

you really hope this doesn’t end badly. for his sake and yours.

“are you mad?” he asks, thinking he already knows the answer. you pause for a moment. you’re angry, albeit only a little. most of that anger is towards yourself for not finding out sooner. you’re mostly just confused, if anything.

instead, you resolve to shake your head. “no, i’m not.”

and really, for a moment, you werent. the media was feasting off of something new. those that chose to rehash the past were less popular. the people wanted to see whats new, whats flashy and whats dazzling. right now, its you and chuuya together.

“what does this mean for us?” you hesitantly whisper, sliding down into the bedsheets to see him better. truthfully, neither of you know. the only thing thats clear are the feelings you share for one another.

he simply shrugs. “i’m gonna drag you down, doll. you’re a star. don’t let me do that to you.”

what hurts the most is that he’s right, even if its only a little. but you’re either an idiot, or in love. maybe both.

“..thats okay.” you smile, resolving to put love first, music second.

oh, how you’d come to regret that.

but you don’t relent when he pulls you into his arms, covering you two with the bedsheets. phones are tossed somewhere on the bed, and the penthouse keeping the two of you private. right now, you two could be together in secret. let them call it what they want.

[bladesprettywhore]

「 NAKAHARA CHUUYA 」 — " never seen another girl this perfect " !

⟡ . prompt : brat tamer! chuuya x brat! reader

⟡ . warnings : reader uses she/her pronouns and has a female autonomy, smut, degradation, spitting, gagging, brat taming, dumbification, spanking, hair pulling, reader is a brat and a crybaby, chuuya being mean and cruel, infliction of pain, creampie, mentions of pet names "slut, whore, doll, pretty girl", orgasm denial. ( let me know if i missed something )

⟡ . before you read : minors and ageless blogs dni.

the clock struck 10pm, you were currently laying down on your bed hugging your big plushie desperately waiting for chuuya to get home. he hadn't been able to spend time with you lately due to the amount of missions and work he had to get done but you missed him and couldn't bear to live without the touch of his hands on your pretty skin so what did you resort to? being the brat that lives upto her name, you decided to send chuuya pics of you dressed in a white thin croptop in which everything was visible and white lacy panties while making the prettiest and most innocent face. the nerve of you to do such a thing while he was busy with a mission.

chuuya not being able to spend time with you as he was busy always tried to at the very least respond to your texts and calls and once he was done giving orders, his phone vibrated in his pocket. taking it out and checking that it was a message from you, he felt happy as always to receive a text from his pretty girl until he saw the pictures you sent him.

"you're brave, pretty girl. i think you know whats coming for you tonight. don't even try to escape your way out of this." that was the message you had received chuuya you had received after sending him those pictures. you were waiting impatiently, wanting him to get home as soon as possible, you thought the consequences wouldn't be as bad as they were last time but you were in for a surprise.

you sighed and moved around on your bed not knowing what to do as your impatience started to get the best of you until you heard the sound of the doorknob of your bedroom turning. not even getting a chance to say anything as a red glow highlighted around your body slamming it harshly down against the bed, a small whimper leaving your mouth with your eyes closed.

as you slowly opened your eyes, you found a ginger haired man with blue orbs staring you down like you were the most pathetic thing he had ever seen.

"you really couldn't handle remaining untouched for 2 days huh? is that how big of a whore you are?" the words left his mouth like a dagger , a veiny hand wrapping around your hair as he held a hand full of it before he made you get on all fours, unzipping his pants and not wasting a second as he forced it down your throat causing you to gag, tears forming in your eyes, causing your mascara to run down and stain your cheeks.

"what's wrong, i thought you wanted this, isn't that why you sent me those pictures of you looking all dolled up?" he said as he stared down at you like a sadist.

you put your hands on his thighs before trying your best to take him in your mouth and lick all around him. it's not like you didn't know what was coming for you, you just didn't expect him to be harsher than last time but of course you're the one who was at fault for playing with fire like that.

pushing him in and out of your mouth, as you looked up at him with your mascara stained cheeks and smudged lipstick, as the red covered the tip of his cock.

"being such a good whore for me huh? shit, you must've been really lonely without this cock huh?" that statement made you feel hot in between your legs as you tried to sneak a hand in your panties just for your wrist to harshly get gripped by the stronger man.

"don't you even try to touch yourself, im the only one allowed to touch expensive artwork like this" he said groaning before exploding in your mouth without a warning causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth as you stuck your tongue out with the white liquid dripping down your tongue to show the ginger haired man before swallowing it down leaving a bitter and sweet aftertaste in your mouth.

"now now, how should I make you pay for your impatience?" he said , eyeing you down like you were a common whore before a dark chuckle left his mouth. "so cruel, too...cruel" you mumbled as you tried catching your breath after sucking him off.

"im the cruel one? now now, don't act like you didn't want this" he said pulling you close to his chest by grabbing your hair in his left hand. as he let your hair go, you felt him tie your hands together with a pair of ropes, making you struggle "wait a minute! i haven't even gotten to touch you yet!" you cried out as he pushed your head down suffocating you in the pillows.

you felt his hands teasing your clothed clit making a loud whine leave your mouth, his hand movement was enough to make u cry and beg for more.

"shit, you're already this worked up even though i haven't even properly gotten started yet, do you have no self respect or shame? sending me those slutty pictures while i was busy" he says, before pressing his thumb against your clothed clit. "it's not my fault! you were giving your work more time than me" those words caused a loud slap to strike against your asscheek causing a red bruise to paint on it.

"you have a lot of nerve to talk back in that position. surely you understand the position you're in, doll" he says with malice in his tone before pulling your panties aside and shoving in two fingers without warning and going at a fast and rough pace.

"nghh~ hah!" all kinds of slutty noises left your mouth as you tugged on the ropes around your hands and stuck your tongue out from how good it felt, your head spinning with hearts in your eyes feeling yourself get closer and closer each second until you felt him pull his fingers out.

"w-wait! I was just about to cum!" you desperately cried out as your pussy was throbbing. "shut up you pathetic slut, don't order me around".

he was so cruel. making you go through that for atleast another 2 hours , as tears continuously ran down your cheeks, your head was spinning and your legs felt weak.

"please chuuya! i won't do that next time, I promise!" you plead out in your current position which was your face down while looking up at chuuya and ass up with a vibrator inside it.

"pl...ease....pleasee....let m..e cum.....ill b..e good...i...ahh~...pro..mise..." you said crying out and begging for him to let you cum, you didn't care if he used you like a whore in the object, you just needed him to make you cum.

he put his hands in your hair and held it tightly making you look him in the eyes, "if I catch you being such a whore ever again, I'll make you suffer twice as much, underdtand pretty girl? hopefully youre not dumb enough that you cant even understand what im saying"

"promise! I.... promise, just please, let me..." you say while catching your breath, drool running down your smudged lips. chuuya smirked as he heard how much he weakened you. putting his hands on your hips as he slowly entered you from behind, pumping his cock in and out causing your tight pussy to wrap around it as he pulled you in his chest and started making you ride his cock up and down, groaning in your ear and leaving red marks all over you. cupping your cheeks , forcing you to open your mouth as he spat in it while looking at you with love.

"fuuckk...ive never seen another girl this perfect. i really was missing out on some good pussy huh" he says while pushing you up and down on his cock as you cry out and moan his name " chuu! chuu!! im closeee!" you say as your head lays back on his shoulder while arching your back, eyes rolling back.

"oh yeah? make sure to cream all over my cock pretty, need you to cover all of it" he says, fastening his pace until you sprayed all over his cock, creaming it with all your cum then suddenly he threw you down on your back and brought his thighs to your shoulder, pumping his cock inside of you before creaming inside of you, leaving your body and pussy shaking.

"hah..ah...that was so nice...." you mumbled those words in a tired voice as your vision started going blurry from tiredness. chuuya planted a kiss on your forehead , and layed you down in a more comfortable position before whispering a soft "good night" to you in a loving tone.

[osachiyo]

'*•.¸♡ 'WHAT A TEASE ! ♡¸.•*'

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ various bsd men x fem!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ including! dazai, chuuya & fyodor

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ cw! teasing,petnames, mentions of spanking, nsfw, reader is a menace as usual, chuuya being done with reader, degradation, humiliation, mentions of choking, masturbation at work, threats of punishing reader etc, reader is down bad for fyodor because I'm down bad for this menace of a Russian man, toxic relationship (fyodor)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary! you're absolutely bored out of your mind at home. with nothing better to do, you decide to send your lover some frisky photos/texts/audios to make him suffer because why not?

MINORS DNI OR I WILL THROW YOU INTO THE OCEAN!!

: ̗̀➛Dazai Osamu

You and Dazai have been dating for about one year and a half. The relationship was very sexually active but neither of you minded, really. You two enjoyed it very much in fact. So clearly the sex was never boring with Dazai. He knew exactly what spots to hit, if you'd like it hard or soft on that particular day and so on. But there was something you both did not try yet and you figured why not try it today?

Dazai was at work, spending his time at the Detective Agency. While you, on the otherhand, were at home bored out of your mind. You texted Dazai two hours ago, asking him if he had lunch yet. He responded with a "yes, have you eaten yet?" You responded in the affirmative and that was it. No more texts exchanged after that. You stare at the messages with a furrowed brow, missing him already. You got up from the sofa with a sigh and turned the TV off, then proceeded to head towards your bedroom when you remembered something. You bought a cute pair of lingerie last week which you haven't shown Dazai yet..a devious smirk appears on your face. You just had the perfect idea to cure your boredom.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Dazai was getting an earful from Kunikida when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He waved Kunikida off while pulling his phone out of his pocket. The blonde man, clearly very pissed off, was about to swing his right arm at Dazai when he suddenly gasped with his eyes as wide as saucers as he looked at whatever was on his phone. Kunikida raised an eyebrow as he leaned forward to see what surprised Dazai so much but the brown haired man shoved his phone back in his pocket but this time with a very serious face. He looked at Kunikida blankly before excusing himself to the bathroom. He got up from the chair and stormed off to the bathroom while trying to hide his raging hard on as best as he could. He slammed the bathroom door closed behind him as he reopens the image of you in the cutest fucking pair of lingerie he's ever seen. The cute little straps of the top piece digging into your soft flesh so sinfully and hugging your figure so fucking deliciously. He wanted to fuck you in the lingerie so bad, make you scream his name so loud that you'd get a noise complaint afterwards. Dazai could feel his breath quicken the longer he stares at the photo. You also sent him a text saying "I miss you, 'samu :("

What a little minx you were! But it's okay, two can play this game.

After a few moments of waiting, you heard your phone ping. You open it quickly to see what Dazai said and-

It was a video of him jerking his cock. His pants unbuttoned and pulled down to his knees. His hand stroking his cock and his thumb swiping over his slit occasionally. You could hear his soft grunts and moans of your name echoing from the bathroom walls through the video. His stroking got faster as his moans got louder, his hips thrusting up to meet his strokes. Precum dripping from his cockhead in beady pearls as he throws his head back with a particularly loud grunt. You could see his cock twitch one, two, three times before it spurts out milky cum all over his hand and thighs. You lick your lips. God you wanna taste him so fucking bad.

Did you really think you could tease Dazai without him getting you back? Silly girl.

: ̗̀➛ Chuuya Nakahara

You absolutely adored your boyfriend Chuuya. He was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. Your sex life with him was quite spicy as well. Even if he was busy most of the time, he would still squeeze in time for you and you appreciated his efforts very much. But you couldn't help but feel lonely without your hot-headed boyfriend keeping you company tonight. You twirled the glass of red wine in your hand, the deep red liquid swirling around in the glass as you sigh. You set the glass down gently and take your phone, opening the camera. You took some cute photos of yourself in the deep red slik robe Chuuya bought for you. As you were about to take another photo, an idea pops in your mind. Now, you love your boyfriend very very much. But you also love to tease the absolute shit out of him. So you undo the robe, your cleavage now very apparent as you angle the phone just right. You know Chuuya goes wild for your boobs and you’re gonna take advantage of that fact.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Chuuya was in the middle of beating the shit out of a dude when his phone pinged. He pulled out his phone abruptly, shocking the man. The enemy then took this opportunity to shoot at him when Chuuya swung at his jaw, dislocating it as the man falls to the ground. Chuuya scoffs then looks at what you sent him. His eyes widened in surprise as he stares at the photos of you showing your beautiful breasts off. The deep red material of the robe barely covering your mounds. He could see your hard nipples through the fabric. He could also see light purple bruises and bite marks adorning your chest area and it reminds him of the night before. The night where he worshipped and kissed each inch of your body as he thrusted into you. He replays the scene over and over again in his head. The gorgeous scene of your back arching as his tongue circles over your erect and swollen nipples. His hand toying with the other one he couldn't take into his mouth. Chuuya could feel his mouth watering from looking at your delicious breasts. He couldn't wait to get home. But you had to be punished for teasing him like this. He left you on read as he heads over to your shared apartment, he was in quite a rush while doing so. He could not wait to get his hands on you. Just you fucking wait.

: ̗̀➛ Fyodor Dostoevsky

Your relationship with Fyodor was...interesting to say the least. You were more like a pet to him than a lover. But you didn't mind, didn't mind at all actually. Your obsession with the said man forced you not to care. He could call you a desperate little slut for doing absolutely anything to receive a shred of his affection and you would eagerly agree with him. But he was actually quite nice to you. Most of the time, atleast. But you were more than okay with that. As long as you got to stay with him.

Usually you would try not to mind his absence too much as he didn't like it when you whined and begged him to stay with you. He claimed that he was busy and didn't have all the time in the world for you. You understood, of course. But tonight...tonight was different. Tonight you felt so fucking needy and you needed to have Fyodor touch you. Your gooey and dripping hole was begging to be filled. But the problem was that Fyodor was not home to satisfy your burning desires. Fyodor's sex drive was quite low but he did enjoy indulging in you from time to time. You needed him right now. You had a hidden stash of sex toys that Fyodor never found out about. You couldn't figure out how he didn't know about it though, considering he knows every single detail about you. But maybe he did know and just never brought it up? You decided not to think about it too much, giving into your need of sexual pleasure. You dug up a purple dildo from the box. If you remembered correctly...ah yes! It vibrates too. You quickly sit back on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard as you hit record. You place the phone so it shows your dripping pussy and your upper thighs spread apart and take a deep breath. Hopefully this can get home a little bit faster.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Fyodor was staring at one of his many screens as he plotted his master plan when- ping! His phone lit up with a notification. He took his phone and opened it, immediately taking him to his messages with you. He sees a 7 minute video sent by you. The raven haired man leans back in his chair and hits play.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw the view in front of him. Your legs spread apart, showing your glistening pussy to him. He could see everything. He could also hear your laboured breaths as you bring a purple dildo close to your cunt, rubbing it on your folds then spreading your pussy apart with your fingers before dragging the vibrating dildo from your clit and then down to your hole. He could see your hole clenching over nothing as more of your sweet nectar spills out of it. Fyodor could feel his pants tightening around him, his member erect against the material of his pants. He sucks in a breath when you slowly insert the dildo in your hole, whining his name out in the process making him clench his phone between his lithe fingers. He watches the video fully. He watched as you pleasured yourself without him. He watched as you touched his pussy without his permission. He watched as you came all over the once pristine sheets, soaking them with your cum and slick without his fucking permission. He watched as you moved the phone to your face afterwards, sucking the dildo off, cleaning it with your tongue as you would do with his cock.

Fyodor sent you a text reading, "I hope you enjoyed yourself, myshka. Because you're not cumming for a long time. You're in for a long night tonight, you slut."

Congratulations, you were absolutely fucked.

©sachiyoh- do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGLIST! @luvyein

[chuunai]

NEED BSD MEN HEADCANONS WITH THEM EXPERIENCING BABY FEVER FOR THE FIRST TIME

like they see a baby on social media being cute or something like that and they're just like "oh....I??? want one?????"

I’ve been waiting for this one >_<

✧˚ · . BSD men with baby fever - dazai osamu, chuuya nakahara, tachihara michizou, tetcho suehiro, sigma

summary ⋆ ★ mentions of pregnancy, babies babies babies, fluff, established relationship (dating reader), SFW with implied NSFW.

Dazai Osamu:

Dazai would only get baby fever if you two had been together for a while. That he trusts you with his being and heart. He’s lost so many others in the span of a few years, he doesn’t want to lose you too. Or a baby. A family is something that’s unknown to him. The closest thing he had to one was with Ango and Odasaku, but look how that ended up.

But when that video of a baby crawling over to her mama and papa came up on his social media feed one day, something in his mind just seemed to focus on ‘baby baby baby’. At the Agency, all he could think about was his future baby. The dark curls they’d inherit, and your lips and eyes. Kunikida could smack him for all he cared, but Dazai was the one with a girlfriend. And at home, one could say it got even more embarrassing there. Online shopping carts would magically start having baby clothes in them, and a music playlist with the title of ‘lullabies for future baby dazai <3’ appeared as well.

Of course, you ask why it’s popping up. Instead of being smart and playfully brushing it off, the fever grows to a whole new degree where he gets down on his knees in front of you and begs for a baby. He just wants a family of his own. Is it so much to ask for? Someone he’ll love unconditionally and that they’ll love him back. And wouldn’t it be the ultimate gift of your love? Something that came from the both of you and your shared efforts?

By the miracle of his persuasive words (and even more persuasive cock), you had agreed. Dazai could hardly wait for night nowadays where he’d try to stuff a baby into you. His baby. A family with you. The fever isn’t giving up, and a positive pregnancy test is his only hopeful sign of recovering.

Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya gets baby fever very quick. It’s not his fault that he gets attached so early on in the relationship. You just complete him—the empty side where he questions everything. An answer to his purpose in life. You’re a goddess in his eyes, and he worships the ground you walk on. He also enjoys talking about you and showing you off. It’d be more impressive if he could show off a baby in your belly, though.

He blames it all on his subordinates. The fuckers are young—like him—and irresponsible. The Port Mafia is a soul’s last resort, and so one loses all sense of purpose and dignity. That leads to pregnancies, occasionally. The fathers are also usually part of the Mafia, and so when Chuuya saw the expecting parents walking around, he couldn’t help but think of you. Belly swollen with his seed, tits heavy with milk to nourish his child. He was a goner day one of the fever. The following weeks are discreetly spent reading articles about parenting, looking at cute videos of families and staring at your stomach a whole lot more now.

He tries to indirectly ask about your feelings on the topic when you’re both sleepily intoxicated on a Sunday. Snuggling up to you on the couch while his tired voice asks if you thought you two would be good parents. One hand rested absentmindedly on your stomach, kneading it slowly while you smiled and said yes. Of course, it didn’t mean you wanted one now or anything, but in the moment it sure seemed like you had said that you wanted his baby now.

That’s probably how you two ended up under the sheets, too drunk to remember protection as he prayed for a baby to be conceived. A pillow under your hips while his rolled against yours endlessly until his cum painted your cervix and walls white. He doesn’t pull out either, nor do you push him off. Deep down, he knows you want the same too. A mini-Nakahara.

Tachihara Michizou

He’s a mix of Dazai and Chuuya. He’ll get baby fever quickly after you start dating because he’s known you for so long. You two had been on the streets together for a while and joined the Hunting Dogs together. You’re his family, and he’s yours. It’s always been just you and him forever. Tachihara needs that security in order to even think about a baby of his own.

When he does, it’s when Atsushi randomly gave him a stroller with a baby in it. Tachihara had no clue on what to do when it started crying and Gin teased him for it, but damn did it look kinda similar to you and him. Then that pesky thought entered his mind after work as he tried to get it out. You’re both only nineteen, for Christ’s sake! And you haven’t even been dating for a year! Tachihara’s not going to ask you for one until you’re at least twenty-three together and still happy.

But lord, four years is a painful waiting time. But he knows you’re worth it. That the future baby is worth it. He’ll try and subtly to have you get baby fever too by going to parks more often where parents are fussing over their kids and he’ll make a comment about how you baby him like that and that your offspring will like him better. You don’t seem too convinced, but he’ll change that. Just like how he’s changing both of your future for the better.

His dreams consist of you and him raising a family in the peaceful countryside where no one will ever threaten you again. No crime or tragedy, just you and him. His biological family may all either be dead or hating him, but that doesn’t matter. You’re his family, and you love him.

Tetcho Suehiro

Tetcho doesn’t even know he has baby fever. All he knows is that he’s dating you—his heavenly angel. Everything in his life is good and normal. He has a job he deeply cherishes and loves, friends, and a civilian fiancée. The only thing he wishes for is to keep you happy and content with life and your relationship. A baby’s not on his mind for a while. Why would it? He’s got everything he needs.

But that one encounter with a child he saved from a criminal had him questioning it. The way it thanked him and hugged him got his fatherly side up and running. He thought it was just sweet of the kid to do so. Not that he wanted one of his own. Though his brain was different; insistent and pleading whenever he took you out on that one date and saw you help escort a lost child back to their parents. Tetcho’s a blunt honest individual, if you ask him something, he will most likely say the truth.

So when you see his adoring gaze at you, you ask him if he was okay and he just replies that he wants a baby too. One more thing to add to his life. You’re already engaged, he’s devoted to you forever more. He’ll take such good care of you and the baby. Money’s not an issue, and your relationship is stable and healthy. Isn’t it the best time for a baby?

He still doesn’t see it as baby fever when you tell him it. It’s just natural, right? Reproduction. He’d be a good father, he thinks. And he’ll tell you that until you give in and allow him to be a daddy-to-be.

Sigma

Sigma is also a goner day one. Coming from the Book has always made him feel out of place in the world. He has no mother, no father. No document of birth or a childhood He just came into being from words alone, and that makes him fascinated by you. He admires it, strangely enough. Your womb. The fact you could carry a baby just was stuck in his mind.

Your period is what first started his baby fever. When you first went through it shortly after your relationship began and he thought you were dying, you had to explain that you went through this every month unless you were pregnant. He offered to give you a baby, feeling bad for you. You of course said no, but he still has the offer up. He’s seen some pregnant patrons at the Casino, albeit rarely. Sigma wonders what you would look like carrying his baby. Letting him—a man not born quite like anyone else—do the honors of fathering your first child. Lord, he obsesses over it.

He has to sleep every night with his face buried in your stomach. When he falls asleep, he dreams of your future baby. It’s so bad for him. He needs to know he’s normal like everyone else. And nearly everybody can make a baby, right? If you really loved him, you’d let him try and make one with you too. To prove that yes, he’s human even if his origins are odd.

Sigma isn’t giving up. He’s a determined man with a goal in sight. He worked hard for everything he has in life right now, exhausting both his mind and body to the point of nearly insanity. A reward can be given to him, right? He’s heard Fyodor talk about God, and while he isn’t particularly religious himself, surely God will recognize his actions and give him a baby?

Here’s your meal everyone ! <3

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts

[yokohamapound]

How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really. 

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes. 

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him. 

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened. 

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature. 

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal. 

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day. 

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him. 

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him. 

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him. 

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his. 

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight. 

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you. 

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf. 

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche. 

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet. 

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him. 

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal. 

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is. 

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

[nakahras]

᯽ my love (mine all mine) • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • domesticity with chuuya

warning • intentional lower case, fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff

wc • 1.1k

a/n • a little something something for you guys bc i needed some soft chuuya after the week i’ve had

it’s hot — far too hot, as a matter of fact, for the air conditioned room you fell asleep in. you didn’t mean to fall asleep. truth is, you were supposed to be waiting for your boyfriend, who was coming back from a mission today — one that lasted almost 3 agonizingly long weeks. but how the hell were you supposed to stay awake when he asked you to wait for him at his luxurious apartment… okay so maybe you didn’t have to lay in his bed to wait for him but you were so exhausted and his bed is like laying on a cloud.

absolutely no one could blame you for taking advantage of that opportunity, not even chuuya.

you’re becoming more lucid as the grogginess starts to dissipate and you notice a distinct weight on your chest when you go to move the covers off of you to get some relief from the heat. you begrudgingly open your eyes to find a mess of orange hair tickling at your neck. you can’t help the fond smile that settles onto your lips and the amused puff of air that escapes through your nose. your hand is already settling into the ginger's hair, gently stroking through the soft waves. 

you wonder, distantly, what time he got home and how you didn’t notice his presence until now.

his cheek is squished on your chest, mouth open ajar, drooling slightly. you don’t even have the heart to be annoyed by the wet spot on your (read: his) t-shirt because of how peaceful he looks. his face is void of any of the usual rigidness and worry he wears when he’s awake, thanks to his position as a port mafia executive. he deserves this break and the rest, god knows he’s earned every second of this and who are you to deny him of it?

you look around, trying to gain a sense of what time it is but thanks to chuuya evidently shutting his black out curtains, it’s impossible to tell midday from midnight right now. one thing you can tell is that it’s hot. chuuya has always been like a personal heater, body temperature running abnormally high, something about his body being a host for the god of calamity — apparently that tends to alter the average body. it comes in handy when it’s winter and freezing but during the summer it’s suffocating almost. 

you need to escape, your bladder has very unfortunate timing, not only are you uncomfortable from sweating but your bladder is screaming at you to empty it. 

the soft snores escaping chuuya’s lips tell you he’s in a deep enough sleep that you may be able to peel him off of you without disturbing his much needed rest. you gently and carefully unravel his arm from your torso. as you go to place his arm at his side, his face scrunches in protest and he groans. your breath hitches and you instinctively hold it in, body going rigid as you try not to disturb him any further. luckily you don’t have to do much else in ways of moving the executive because his groan is followed by a louder snore and him rolling over to his other side, facing away from you and curling in on himself.

you let out a breath of relief and cautiously roll out of bed. you don’t even bother putting any pants on, you scurry out of the room to find the nearest bathroom that won’t disturb your sleeping beauty. 

when you finish up, you don’t make your way back to the bed that’s still calling your name. instead, you pad out to the kitchen to find the sun slowly descending into the horizon, sunset a mere few minutes away. the sky is already drowning in a deep orange, the warmth of the glow inviting. you ignore the visceral need to stand at the glass floor to ceiling windows and watch the sunset to make yourself a cup of tea first. it takes you no time at all to brew up a cup for yourself.

you turn on some soft music and return to the windows just in time to watch the setting sun paint the sky various hues of purple and pink. you let your eyes droop, happy to just feel the warmth.

your thoughts are halted when a pair of arms sneak around your waist and a chin is propped on your shoulder. 

“abandoned me and didn’t even wake m’up ta say it ta m’face?” his speech is slurred from grogginess and a smile creeps up onto your face at the thought of him immediately seeking you out after waking up. 

you turn your head to find his face scrunched up into a pout, you let out an amused chuckle and place a soft kiss to his temple. you’re met with an accusatory glare.

“‘n’ now you’re tryna butter m’up.” his frown deepens and eyebrows crease closer together. 

you let out a snort. “of course i wasn’t gonna wake you up. i’m quite certain you needed the rest.”

you begin to sway to the music absentmindedly and chuuya follows in step and sways along with you. it’s soothing, finally being held in his arms after so long, the level intimacy of dancing with him like this and watching the sunset is something you find yourself craving all the time when you’re with chuuya. it was jarring at first, being someone who usually struggles with that type of intimacy, but it’s become second nature with him.

you hum contentedly, a smile still playing at your lips. “woke up just in time to watch the sunset with me, though.”

you miss the weight of his chin on your shoulder the moment he removes it but you don’t have much time to think about it. your expression twists into one of confusion when the ginger takes your now empty mug from your hands and places it on a nearby side table. you open your mouth to question him but, once again, you don’t get the chance as he twirls you around to face him. 

chuuya takes one of your hands and places it on his shoulder while he takes hold of the other. his free hand rests on your hip and he begins to sway the two of you into a more involved dance. you make a confused noise in the back of your throat but the executive is talking before you can.

“don’t, please- just… let me have this for a bit. missed you…”

you smile again and rest your head on his chest. “i missed you too, sunshine.”