#especially when it's Chuuya making fun of him

[unicornpopcorn14]

Has anyone written/drawn smth about Dazai getting unknowingly shipped overseas while sleeping in his shipping container yet??? Bc if not I'll write it it's just too funny to pass up-

Edit: *throws the fic atcha and runs*

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I BITE MY TONGUE, IT'S A BAD HABIT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai doesn't care about stupid holidays, but when he sees everyone but him being gifted chocolates from you, he starts to find himself severely bothered. it's the principle, he tells himself—nothing more, nothing less, just the principle.... right?

(wordcount: 6.9k; fem!reader, sfw, dazai is jealous and silly. unedited.)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: HAPPY LATE VALENTINE'S DAY, take pmreader and dazai being silly teens in love who refuse to tell each other how they feel in words. i had this posted on valentine's day but then turned into a big baby and deleted </3 i am still a big baby but i am a big baby who is going to leave the post up this time HAHAAH

Dazai doesn’t care about stupid holidays. 

In fact, Dazai can count the things he cares about on one hand—he cares about Odasaku and Ango because they’re his friends, he cares about crab because he likes eating crab and he can recite every known fun fact about them off the top of his head, he cares about the arcade a few streets over because his favorite video game is there and he beats Chuuya every time and it’s funny watching him get mad, and he cares about you because you’re also his friend and you gave him a room in your apartment even though he could have his own but is just stubborn about not wanting to be in Mori’s building.

So, he’s not sure why his feet are rooted to the ground in Mori’s office as he stares down at the small round box of chocolates sitting on top of his desk. There’s a note on top of it that’s partially blocked from his line of view, but he can very much see your signature at the bottom of it. 

You complain about Mori all the time, so it doesn’t take him long to put together that there must be a reason why you went out of your way to get him chocolates even though he knows you’ve been busy with some conflict happening in Russia. It’s not Mori’s birthday, and Dazai’s mind quickly tracks back to the stands of chocolate he saw set up on the same corner that the arcade is on.

Valentine’s Day, he realizes, eyes narrowing down on the chocolate.

“Such a dear she is. She dropped it off for me this morning,” Mori sighs when he realizes what Dazai is looking at. “Elise-chan hasn’t gotten me chocolates yet.”

“That’s because you don’t deserve chocolates, stupid Rintarou,” Elise’s familiar pitched voice comes from Dazai’s left—he hadn’t even noticed her sitting on the ground coloring because his gaze was pinned to the chocolate the moment he stepped into the room. Elise looks up at Dazai with a smile that’s just a bit too sweet, “Aw, she didn’t get you any? That’s too bad, Dazai-kun.”

Dazai’s jaw twitches at the snide comment, and he looks away from Elise back to Mori, who looks oddly intrigued by Dazai’s reaction, which is enough to let him know that he’s over-reacting, so he’s quick to smooth out his expression, even if the irritation in his chest continues to swell. He doesn’t even know why he’s so bothered—he doesn’t care about stupid holidays, and he doesn’t care about chocolate. It’s really not a big deal, but he can’t seem to snuff out the growing annoyance.

“I’m sure she’ll give you one later, Dazai-kun,” Mori says with a placating smile that almost sends Dazai over the edge. “No need to fret.”

“I’m not-” he starts to say, but is cut off quickly by Elise.

“Or, maybe she just doesn’t like him enough to give him any,” Elise says with gleeful giggle. “How did she word it again? Oh, yeah, you forced your way into her life, didn’t you?”

Dazai doesn’t take anything anyone says to him or about him to heart, but he especially knows not to take anything Elise says to heart, considering the girl’s ardent distaste for him. He’s never been sure why she hates him so much, but he figures that it’s because he can make her disappear with his ability, and he’s half-tempted to grab her arm and do just that, but he knows it’ll only make Mori even more interested in why he’s so emotional over this. That’s the last thing he wants considering he doesn’t even know why he’s getting so worked up about it.

But what did Elise even mean? Why would you tell them that he forced his way into your life? If anything, you’re the one who forced yourself into his life when you showed up at his shipping compartment during that winter storm a few months ago. He just… capitalized on it, that’s all. You would’ve kicked him out if you didn't want him hanging around, but you didn’t. And Elise is known for twisting the truth, but then… Why didn’t you give him chocolates? That’s the whole point of the holiday, right? To show appreciation for the people in your life?

It’s not the holiday that’s bothering him, it’s the principle. 

Dazai is suddenly ten times more antsy than he was when he first noticed the chocolates. There must be a logical explanation for this—maybe you really are giving him them later, or maybe you’re only giving them to Mori because you have to. Snidely, he notes that the chocolates you gave him looked like they could be bought at a convenience store, so it’s not like you put much effort into it. 

“Elise-chan,” Mori chides, although he still sounds terribly amused, violet eyes glittering as he scrutinizes Dazai. “Don’t say such cruel things. I taught our hime to have good manners, Dazai-kun will get chocolates from her, even if they’re just obligatory.”

Obligatory, Dazai has to force himself not to physically blanch at the word. He thinks he would almost prefer not to get chocolates from you. How are you just going to give obligatory chocolates to someone you live with? You guys are friends, aren’t you? He doesn’t know much at all about Valentine’s Day, but he does know that there’s different types of chocolate depending on your relationship with the person, and he thinks he’ll jump off the roof if you give Chuuya nicer chocolates than him.

Chuuya.

“I have to go,” Dazai says abruptly, turning to leave.

“Goodbye, Dazai-kun,” Mori sings, much to Dazai’s surprise. He was half-expecting Mori to tell him to sit back down so they could go over whatever he was called to his office for. He still doesn’t even know why the man called him up here—maybe it was just to flaunt the chocolates he received, Dazai thinks bitterly. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“I would!” Elise calls after him as he lets the door slam shut behind him, but Dazai doesn’t pay her any mind.

Surely Chuuya wouldn’t have gotten chocolates if he didn’t, right?

———

“Give me those right now.”

Chuuya pauses from where he’s about to pop a round chocolate into his mouth, eyes cutting to the side in irritation when he realizes that Dazai is standing in the doorframe of his office. Dazai is tense and jittery all at the same time—he’s not even looking at Chuuya, he’s staring at the set of chocolates sitting open on his desk and the familiar handwriting on the note next to it. Chuuya’s set is much nicer than Mori’s; they’re his favorite truffles, imported in from Belgium, and there’s a red wine on his desk to go along with it.

It makes Dazai sick. 

“The fuck?” Chuuya asks, sitting up a bit straighter and giving Dazai a weird look before pointedly eating the chocolate in his hand. Dazai’s eye twitches. “What’s your problem this time, you freak?”

“I said give me those right now,” Dazai repeats, inhaling deeply as he takes a few steps closer. “Give me them.”

Chuuya looks a bit concerned now, grabbing the chocolates you gave him and dragging them closer to him. Dazai is undeterred, stalking forward and reaching quickly for them. Chuuya reacts faster, snatching them off the table and holding them close to his chest.

“Fuck off,” Chuuya spits, sounding confused and irritated all at the same time. “What the hell is your problem?”

Dazai could think of an excuse—they’ve been tampered with, poisoned, you accidentally gave him the wrong ones and you sent him here to grab them before Chuuya ate them all—but the only thing that escapes his lips is the same demand.

“Give me the chocolates.”

“What?” Chuuya demands. “No, you fucking psycho, get out of my office.”

Dazai’s hand instinctively twitches in the direction of his gun, and Chuuya catches it from the way his eyes shoot open.

“Yo,” Chuuya says loudly, rising to his feet. “What the fuck, Dazai?”

Logically, Dazai knows that whether he gets the chocolates from Chuuya or not, it won’t change anything. It’s the principle of it that’s the issue. Even if he manages to get his hands on the chocolates, you gave them to Chuuya and you didn’t give them to Dazai, but still, the sight of Chuuya with them is setting Dazai off in ways that he just can’t seem to get under wraps. 

“Give me-”

Chuuya’s face twists in irritation and he slams the chocolates down on his desk before walking around it in Dazai’s direction. Instead of making a smart decision and running out of his office before he can get a faceful of Chuuya’s fist, he takes the opportunity to dart forward and grab the chocolates he put down, throwing them onto the ground and driving his heel right into the box. 

“You bastard,” Chuuya shouts, grabbing Dazai by the collar of his jacket hard and throwing him hard into the side of his desk. Dazai barely withholds a wince as the corner of Chuuya’s desk drives deep into his side, crumpling to the ground hard. Chuuya kneels down to see if there’s anything left to salvage of the chocolates you gave him, but finds himself sorely disappointed. “What’s your fucking issue, Dazai?”

Stubbornly, Dazai doesn’t respond, raising his chin and meeting Chuuya’s gaze, trying to pretend that there is no issue and like he isn’t acting deranged over chocolates. 

Not chocolates, he reminds himself, the principle.

“I knew you were weird about her but jeez,” Chuuya scoffs, picking up the mess of chocolates on his floor, brows furrowed in irritation. “You can’t even handle her giving someone else chocolates on Valentine’s Day. You need some serious fucking help, man. It’s the whole point of the goddamn day. You gonna go around and take everyone’s chocolates, you possessive freak?”

Dazai cringes and can’t stop himself as he asks quietly, “How many people has she given them too?”

Instantly, he knows he’s made a mistake—his voice came out all wrong and Chuuya notices it from the way he squints and frowns. He forces his expression to clear of any possible emotions and rises back to his feet, tilting his head to the side as he dares Chuuya to point out that his voice wavered when he asked the question.

“I don’t fucking know,” Chuuya shrugs, side-eyeing him suspiciously but choosing not to point out the weird tone he asked the question in. “She came in with a ton this morning, figured I was the last since she didn’t have any left with her when she came up here before.”

Oh, Dazai thinks, staring at Chuuya absently. Dazai didn’t anticipate that. At once, both of his theories to explain why you didn’t give him chocolates are disproven, and Dazai falters. If you came in with all of them at once and had none left by the time you got to Chuuya, then all signs pointed to that you’re just not giving Dazai chocolate for Valentine’s Day.

But why? Dazai doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong lately—in fact, he’s barely even had time to talk to you lately because you’ve been busy talking with your informants in Eastern Russia. You spent most days in Tokyo, and by the time you got back to your apartment, Dazai was out on his own missions. He hasn’t had the chance to do anything wrong, unless him just being around you is wrong.

How did she word it again? Oh, yeah, you forced your way into her life, didn’t you?

Elise is known for twisting the truth, she doesn’t usually lie about things—why did you tell them that he forced himself into your life? Do you not want him staying at your apartment? Mori did mention that he taught you to have good manners and he never says anything without there being an ulterior motive behind it. Was he trying to imply that you’re just being polite in letting him stay? Dazai doesn’t know; he’s always struggled to read you, but you’ve always made him feel welcome and wanted more than anyone else. It disconcerted him for a while, but he’s grown used to it in a way that he probably shouldn’t have. 

Now, he’s doubting it all.

Chuuya’s eyes suddenly widen, his small brain clearly realizing something it wasn’t meant to. Dazai’s gaze hardens as he waits for Chuuya to say whatever it is he wants to say, but instead of speaking, the slug snorts. His hand flies to his mouth to smother the noise, but he just can’t stop himself from bursting into laughter. Dazai bristles.

“What?” he demands.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Chuuya howls, eyes tearing up as he laughs so hard that he wheezes. Dazai stiffens but otherwise doesn’t say anything, and that’s evidently an answer enough for him. “God, shitty Dazai, you’d think you of all people would know better. Get the fuck out of my office.”

Dazai doesn’t want to admit he has no idea what Chuuya’s talking about, but he also isn’t going to let Chuuya order him around, so he stands there stubbornly until Chuuya rises to his feet to grab Dazai by the back of his jacket again. Dazai instinctively drives his elbow hard into Chuuya’s chest, but he’s unbothered by it, shoving Dazai forward through the door of his office.

Chuuya gives him a mocking smile and goads, “How about you go ask her why she didn’t give you chocolates?” 

Before Dazai has the chance to shoot back a snide comment, Chuuya slams the door right in his face. It’s not the principle that’s bothering him, Dazai realizes glumly, it’s the implication that maybe he’s been wrong about his friendship with you this whole time.

———

Dazai doesn’t even get out of the main building before he runs into someone else who has chocolates that are definitely gifted by you considering it’s your new partner. Itou Asahi is lounging in the lobby of headquarters with Hirotsu and a few members of the Black Lizards that Dazai doesn’t recognize. Dazai has never particularly liked the man—in fact, Dazai despises him and he despises how you seem to think the world of him—but now, his jaw is tight as he glares at the man from across the lobby.

Itou seems to be able to feel the daggers being shot in his direction. He looks up as he pops a chocolate into his mouth, eyes narrow as he tries to pinpoint who exactly is staring at him so intensely and pauses when he notices Dazai. He nudges Hirotsu, and to Dazai’s horror, he realizes that Hirotsu also has a set of chocolates that he hasn’t opened on the couch next to where he’s sitting with a note that Dazai can’t read from the distance but is the same pale pink parchment that Mori’s and Chuuya’s were written on.

Mori. Chuuya. Itou. Hirotsu. Why not him? What did he do?

Dazai sneers in Itou’s direction when the man lifts his hand and awkwardly waves, turning on his feet to leave the building. He had been planning on going to your apartment to sulk to see if you notice that he’s wildly irritated over the fact that he’s not received chocolates from you, but instead, he’s going to go grab a cheap bottle of whiskey from the nearest liquor store and drown himself in his misery back at his shipping container.

He doesn’t know what he did to you, and he thought if he did something wrong, you would’ve said something to him instead of icing him out. Isn’t that what you preach to him? Communication? Yes, Dazai sucks at it and has made no attempts to be better about it, but since you’re the one preaching it, you should at least have the decency to act as you preach. 

You’re such a hypocrite, Dazai thinks bitterly, his throat feels clogged and his chest feels tight and his side hurts a shit ton—he doesn’t like any of this, and with each passing second, he’s becoming increasingly more bothered by this situation. 

He’s not irritated anymore, he’s just hurt.

———

Dazai doesn’t end up going right to the shipping container. It’s late afternoon on a Friday, so when he’s halfway to the convenience store, he decides to make a pitstop at Bar Lupin to see if Odasaku and Ango are already hanging there. Luckily, one thing can go right for him today, because the two of them are in fact already sitting in their designated stools drinking their alcohol of choice.

Neither of them have said much of anything to him since he’s arrived besides greeting him. He wonders if he interrupted them—very extremely sour, he thinks that he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case considering he seems to be a burden on just about every single person he thinks is his friend. 

“I didn’t think you’d be free today,” Odasaku finally says. “We would’ve texted you.”

“I didn’t have a mission scheduled for today,” Dazai replies flatly, unable to muster the energy to put on an energetic front for the two of them. Usually, he doesn’t need to fake it around them because he does genuinely have a good time with them, but he’s just in such a bad mood because of everything with you and all of the newfound doubts plaguing him that it’s impossible for him to take his mind off of it. “Why would I be busy?”

Odasaku and Ango share a look with one another, Dazai catches the way Ango subtly shakes his head and is instantly suspicious. Odasaku either doesn’t pick up on it or doesn’t care, because he says, “It’s Valentine’s Day. I thought you’d be spending it with…”

Odasaku trails off when Ango’s headshakes become more frequent, but Dazai already knows what he was about to say. Stiffly, he asks, “Why would I spend Valentine’s Day with her?”

Ango’s smile is unsure as he shares another look with Odasaku before turning his attention toward Dazai and prodding, “Did something happen?”

“No.” Neither of them respond to his sharp answer, and after a few moments, Dazai blurts out, “She doesn’t want me living at her apartment anymore.”

“What-” Ango begins before seemingly rethinking his question, letting out a sigh. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Dazai says after a second, “but I know.”

“How do you know?” Ango presses. “Did you overhear her talking to someone?”

“Well, no,” Dazai responds awkwardly, “but I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she didn’t get me chocolates,” Dazai finally explodes, voicing the words that have been bothering him all day. “She got Mori chocolates. She got the slug chocolates. She got her moron of a partner chocolates. She even got Hirotsu chocolates, but she didn’t get me chocolates. And Elise said that she told her and Mori that I forced my way into her life. Isn’t that rich? She’s the one that forced her way into my life. I don’t need her, I never did. I just liked her stupid apartment. I could get my own if I wanted to, I just didn’t want to put in the work.”

Dazai thought maybe getting all of his complaints out would make him feel better, but he only feels worse, because half of that isn’t even true. He likes being able to bother you at night instead of rotting alone in his shitty shipping container, and he likes when you make him coffee in the morning before heading out to a meeting. He likes Friday night movies and he likes forcing you to play video games just so he could beat you and brag about it. You told him that you were his friend, so shouldn’t you like doing all of that with him too instead of it being a burden?

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Odasaku asks bluntly, never one to mince his words. Dazai slowly turns his head to look at the older man, barely catching the way Ango briefly shuts his eyes in exasperation. “I mean, you don’t even know if she’s not getting you any yet. You’re just assuming. The day isn’t over.”

Odasaku is usually logical, and he’s one of the few people who Dazai will take the advice of without question, but this time, Dazai shakes his head. He knows that’s not the case, you brought all of your chocolates to headquarters, and you handed them all out and didn’t give any to him. You knew he didn’t have a mission today so it’s not like he was busy, and even if he was, you could’ve given them to him this morning before he left. And either way, it’s not like that explains what Elise said.

“You should head back to her apartment,” Odasaku continues. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“You know what, you’re right,” Dazai says, becoming increasingly more incensed with each passing second. He knew befriending you was a bad idea—nobody actually wants to be Dazai’s friend once they get to know him, it’s been true his whole life, he’s still half-convinced that Odasaku and Ango only humor him because they think he’ll just kill himself. Once people start to see how odd and fucked in the head he really is, they start to distance themselves from him; you can’t distance yourself from him since he’s living with you, so this is just your way of silently telling him you’ve had enough. He knew things would turn out this way, and he hates the way it still makes his chest hurt. He rises to his feet abruptly, “I am going to head back to her apartment—so I can pack my stuff and leave.”

“Dazai,” Ango calls after him, but Dazai doesn’t respond, storming out of Bar Lupin without another word.

He doesn’t need you, he tells himself again, willing the pain in his chest to turn into something more manageable—anger, resentment, but preferably, he just wants to be indifferent. He doesn’t need you and he knew this was going to happen, so it’s time for him to just take the hint and go on his way, back to how things were before you forced yourself into his life.

———

You’re not there when he gets back to your apartment and you’re not there by the time he gets his things together and leaves. He was especially frustrated when he found himself disappointed by that, because he realized he was unintentionally wasting time packing his things because he was hoping you would show up and stop him. 

But you didn’t, so Dazai is now back at his shipping container huddled under a blanket because it’s cold. He’s almost done with his first bottle of whiskey, trying to numb the pain in his side and all of the shitty emotions he just can’t seem to rid himself of. It’s been three hours since he moved his stuff back into his shipping container; you should be back at the apartment by now—it’s thirty minutes off when the two of you watch your Friday night movies, and you’re usually back at your apartment getting snacks together with him by now.

You’ve realized he’s gone by now. Dazai hasn’t checked his phone, mostly because he doesn’t want to know if you cared enough to reach out. If he’s right about all of this, you’ll just take it as a blessing and move on, not wanting to risk an opportunity arising where you’d have to be polite and ask him to come back. As if he would. If Odasaku is right though… No, Dazai isn’t even going to go down that route, the last thing he needs is-

He’s startled when he hears three loud bangs on the metal wall of his shipping container. Instantly, his gaze focuses on the door. He knows it can only be one of two people, because you and Chuuya are the only ones shameless enough to come by without warning. Odasaku and Ango would text first and everyone else is too wary of him to come anywhere near the shipping yard, much less bang right on his door.

“Dazai, open up! What the hell?” He hears you shout from the other side of the thin wall. “It’s cold, come on! What are you even doing out here?”

You came looking for him, Dazai realizes, swallowing thickly. Dazai isn’t often wrong about things, so he doesn’t dare get his hopes up and he doesn’t respond to you. The roll up door rattles as you try to pull it up, but Dazai doesn’t budge to help you. It’s locked, so you won’t be able to open it and Dazai just waits for you to leave so he can go back to sulking in peace. 

“Dazai, come on,” you complain. “What’s wrong? I was waiting for you back at the apartment, why didn’t you come home?”

Though Dazai intended on just ignoring you until you went away, he can’t help the snide comment that escapes his lips, “Home? You mean your apartment?” 

He immediately takes another swig of whiskey, but the burn of the alcohol does nothing to take away from the bitter taste the words leave on his tongue. From the way you pause, you seem to realize something is wrong—extra snidely, he wonders when you became as slow as Chuuya.

“Yeah, my apartment, the place you’ve been living at for three months?” you say incredulously and Dazai winces. “What’s your problem?” 

“My problem?” Dazai asks coolly. “Maybe you should be answering that instead. You’re a hypocrite.”

He knows that will set you off—he’s always been good at getting under people’s skin—and he’s noticed how you bristle whenever Mori hits you with “Now, dear, let’s not be hypocritical.” He can almost imagine the way you go stiff and the way your face goes cold, but it doesn’t bring him the malicious satisfaction he expects.

 Instead, he only feels heavier.

Unfair, he thinks tightly. You’re always so unfair.

“Can you let me in?” you ask after a few moments of silence. Dazai is even more bothered now that he didn’t get the reaction he expected, gaze lowering to the ground. “I’d prefer not to freeze to death out here.”

This time when you ask, Dazai finds himself rising to his feet. He hasn’t drank enough yet to be unsteady, but he can certainly feel the blood rush to his head as soon as he stands up.

He makes his way over to the door, only fumbling once with the lock. He doesn’t slide it open for you just to be petty, but he doesn’t need to anyway—as soon as you hear the lock click open, you’re pulling open the door and Dazai pointedly turns his back to you before you can step in.

“Seriously?” you ask. Much to Dazai’s pleasure, you do sound a bit irritated now. “Dazai, what the hell? Why are you acting so weird?”

“Me?” Dazai demands, voice shrill at the sheer audacity you have coming to his shipping container and insulting him after what you did. Didn’t do. Same thing. He whips around to face you, a barrage of snide comments about to fall from his lips only to hesitate when he sees a fancy box in your hands. “... What is that?”

Your gaze sharpens and your brows furrow. You move the box out of sight behind your back, but Dazai dances around you to try to get a better look at it. The two of you play a game of swivels and twists for a few moments, but Dazai has to call it quits when the pain in his side gets worse and the alcohol goes right to his head. 

You give him a concerned look, but don’t press about the way he winces. Instead, you say, “Tell me what your problem is first. Why are you drinking here alone in the dark?”

“... No,” Dazai says after a second. “What’s in the box?”

Dazai really doesn’t want to get his hopes up, so he chews the inside of his cheek and rocks back and forth from his toes to heels, hands clasped behind his back as he tries to distract himself. You roll your eyes, but your lips curl up into a fond smile that almost eases all of the stress Dazai has felt all day. Almost.

After what feels like an eternity, you pass the box over to him and Dazai immediately darts forward to grab it before you can change your mind. Though he knows what it is before he opens it, he can’t control the relief that floods him when he sees the expensive chocolates sitting inside the box—most of them are shaped in the typical Valentine’s Day heart, but some of them are-

“They’re crabs,” Dazai says gleefully, a genuine smile spreading widely across his lips as he reaches down to pluck one out of the box and pop it into his mouth. The chocolate is soft and creamy, it melts in his mouth the moment it touches his tongue and he lets out a delighted hum. He eats another, and then another after that. “How did you get them crab shaped?”

You don’t answer the question; you stare at the chocolates, conflicted, and Dazai isn’t sure why. You seem to be trying to decide whether or not you want to say something, but you let out a sigh, seemingly deciding against it. 

Instead of whatever you were debating on saying, you rest your hand on your hip and ask him, “Why did you take all of your stuff out of your room?” 

Your room, Dazai swallows the chocolate in his mouth as he tries to figure out how to respond to your question. He doesn’t really want to admit that he had a meltdown triggered by the chocolate that you just handed him, and you do seem genuinely put off by the fact that he left. Maybe he was wrong, he thinks, pressing his lips together as he considers the possibility. He’s hardly ever wrong, but he supposes it wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve managed to surprise him; since the day he met you, he feels like his mind is dulled when you’re around. He hates it.

So, he throws Elise under the bus.

“Elise said that you told her I forced myself into your life,” he says, voice coming out far more bitter than he intended for it to. He raises his chin stubbornly. “I wouldn’t want to keep imposing.”

Your expression flickers momentarily and you look a bit hurt, Dazai immediately swallows another chocolate, hopeful that he’ll swallow the sudden guilt he feels along with it. He doesn’t.

“Mori was trying to get me to convince you to live in the apartment he has set up for you in the main building,” you explain quietly after a few moments, crossing your arms over your chest. “I told him that he was better off trying to convince you himself because it was your decision to stay at mine. I didn’t have much of a say in it.”

Dazai lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and because he has no self control, he starts to ask, “But if you did have a say in it…”

Your expression softens in a way that makes Dazai’s stomach turn in on itself and your eyes flicker down to the box he’s holding before you quickly look back up at him. The box of chocolates in his hands suddenly feels a lot heavier, and his grip instinctively tightens around it.

“I… my apartment is a bit too big to live in alone,” you answer, and then add, “I would prefer you stayed.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, but his gaze does dart down to the three bags of clothes he brought back to the shipping container with him, all still packed. It wasn’t all of his stuff, just enough for it to be noticeable to you when you went to his room looking for him. Maybe he had been hoping you would come bring him back.

“I don’t have a movie picked out for tonight, if you want to pick,” you offer when the silence stretches on.

Dazai glances down at the chocolates you gave him again and then he says, “The Discovery channel has a new documentary on -”

“No.”

“What?” Dazai demands. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I am not watching another crab documentary, Dazai.”

“The last one was good.”

“The last one bored me to tears.”

Dazai rolls his eyes, leaning down to pick up one of his bags and you grab the other two after sending a narrowed look to his left side, slinging them over your shoulder as you step outside of the shipping container. Dazai follows you, rolling the door back down before giving you a mocking look.

“So you just want to watch one of those stupid superhero movies again? The only one actually entertained by them is bird-brained Chuuya, anyone with two brain cells knows how it ends just from the first scene,” he says snidely, enjoying the way you immediately scowl at him.

“Just because you know how it’s going to end doesn’t mean it’s not entertaining,” you argue. “You can be entertained by something predictable.”

“Not me,” Dazai sings as he follows you out of the shipping container yard and to the road. Much to Dazai’s displeasure, he realizes that you did not come here alone—your new partner is sitting in the front seat of the car waiting on the side of the road, scrolling through his phone. Distastefully, he demands, “Why is he here?”

“He drove me,” you say like it’s obvious. “What’s your problem with him anyway?”

“Nothing,” Dazai mutters, making sure to give the older boy a dark look as he slides into the back seat. 

He expects you to get into the passenger seat, but instead you move to sit in the back with him. Before you do, he stiffens as he remembers his clothes were not the only thing he stole from your apartment. Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you place your hand on your hip.

“What else did you take before leaving?”

Dazai sulks at how easily you figured out what the issue is and lies when he repeats, “Nothing.”

“If we get back home and immediately have to come back out here, I’m going to waterboard you, Dazai,” you say flatly.

“I’ve been waterboarded before,” he says stubbornly.

“Not by me,” you threaten.

 Dazai sighs dramatically, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

“I stole all of the remotes in the apartment,” he admits, shifting to push himself up to walk back over to the shipping container, wincing again when he shifts the wrong way. He pauses when you roll your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him.

“I’ll get them,” you say. “Stay here.”

“Don’t leave me with him,” Dazai complains, but you slam the door in his face.

Instantly, the light and playful expression drops from his face as he turns his attention to the rear view mirror, eyes locking with Itou Asahi. The blonde raises his eyebrows tauntingly, as if he’s daring Dazai to say something to him, and Dazai has half a mind to reach for the gun stuffed in the pocket of his black jacket. He refrains if only because he doesn’t want to piss you off even more.

After a moment, Itou twists in his seat to look at Dazai. Dazai’s eye twitches in irritation, realizing that he’s about to speak to him.

He nods to the box of chocolates. “She spent a month at my place trying to get it right.”

Though Dazai planned on ignoring him, he can’t stop the quiet, “What?” that slips from his mouth.

“The chocolates,” Itou says like Dazai is stupid, which irritates him but he’s still confused so he’s forced to wait for him to explain. “She tried custom ordering the crab shaped ones but had a tantrum because they looked ugly. So she spent a month learning how to make them so she could mold them on her own. She only just finished this batch today—still isn’t satisfied with how they came out, but ran out of time.”

Dazai’s throat swells up as he stares down at the chocolates, an odd warmth spreading through his chest that he can’t snuff out. Scrutinizing them more carefully now, he sees all of the tiny imperfections that wouldn’t be there if you’d store bought them—the hearts aren’t all perfectly even, some of the legs on the crabs are longer than others, there’s an indent on the back of the heart shaped chocolate he’s holding like you’d touched it while it was too soft.

His fingers close around it carefully, lips parting to speak but he can’t find any words. When did you have the time though? You’ve had so many missions lately-

Oh.

“All the missions in Tokyo…”

“Her missions were learning how to fucking make chocolate and they were in my apartment, not Tokyo,” Itou scoffs. “I’m never going to be able to eat chocolate again in my life the amount she’s force fed me. I can hardly stand the smell of it now. I had to send her to Nakahara for him to taste test the last few batches.”

Dazai’s gaze sharpens, obscenely bothered at the thought of Itou Ashi and Nakahara Chuuya being your taste testers and Itou is complaining about it. “You should be grateful you got to try her chocolate,” he snaps immediately.

Itou’s jaw drops and he immediately shakes his head. “You two are so fucking-” he starts to say but cuts himself off when he sees you approaching the car again. 

Dazai squints at him, almost wanting to dare him to continue, but his expression lightens when you open the door, remotes in hand and an irritated expression still painted on your face.

He only moves over enough to give you room to sit instead of moving to sit behind the driver’s seat. You squint at him, but Dazai gives you a small smile and says quietly, “My chocolates are much nicer than Chuuya’s.”

Your expression immediately softens and your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze—the telltale sign of you being flustered. Dazai’s lips part to say something else, but no words come out, gaze pinned on the pretty glow the moonlight casts over your face. You look like you want to say something as you look down at the chocolates again, but again, you seem to decide against it.

“How do you even know what Chuuya got?” you ask suddenly, clearing your throat. Dazai freezes. “And what happened to your side? Every time you move you’re wincing.”

“I… stopped by his office and saw them?” he offers, his next smile is too sweet, and you catch it from the way your eyes narrow. Defensively, he says, “The slug didn’t deserve chocolates from you.”

“Oh my god, Dazai,” you complain, burying your face in your hands. 

Dazai’s face flames up, and he shoots a dirty look in Itou’s direction when the older boy bursts into laughter. 

“Slugs can’t eat chocolate,” Dazai insists. “I was helping him, really.” 

“I can’t stand you,” you sigh, but when you shift in your seat, you shift so that you’re sitting a little closer to Dazai, shoulder pressed against his and thighs knocking together.

He glances down at the box of chocolates in his lap again, and the chocolate heart resting in his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, he passes it over to you. You give him a questioning look, but Dazai pointedly looks away as he wills his cheeks not to reflect his flustered thoughts, waiting for you to take it. His breath catches when your fingers brush his hand as you take it from him.

“Thanks,” you say softly.

Instead of directly responding, Dazai prods, “So, about the crab documentary…”

You let out a heavy sigh as you side eye him. “Fine,” you agree, “but you’re doing the garbage this week.”

“What?!” he demands. “It’s not my turn.”

“The price you pay for forcing me to watch nature documentaries for movie night.”

“It’s not just nature, it’s crabs.”

“Deal or no deal?”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Good,” you say with a saccharine smile that Dazai doesn’t like because he knows you’re thinking something bad. “Deal.”

After a few moments, you add, “I would’ve put it on even if you didn’t agree.”

“I’m going back to my shipping container.”

You laugh loudly, and Dazai’s heart skips a beat at the sound of it. He very much ignores the way Itou shoots an amused look back at them, focusing instead on the way your eyes glitter as your laughs fizzle into soft giggles.

“As if,” you say, knocking your shoulder into his. “I’ll just drag you back again. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

His lips curl up into a small smile in response to your words, gaze dropping back down to the chocolates sitting in his lap, and then back to you.

“Will you?” he asks quietly, a bit too seriously.

Your smile softens, and Dazai’s heart lodges right in his throat. “Count on it.”

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Chuuya Nakahara Edition ♡

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ MDNI. really needed a fun lil drabble to break up my writer's block and this was perfect. silly but super fun to write. lemme know whatcha think. luv u ♡ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Chuuya definitely gives you aftercare, it's just not always the most well thought out when he’s gotten back from a long night at work. He doesn't remember to have dinner ready or pajamas laid out, but he still holds you as you collapse onto his chest. Laughs with you while the two of you place the 4th doordash order of the week to his apartment since you're both too spent to even think about cooking. He runs light fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead, teasing you for how hard you came while also reminding you of how fuckin' gorgeous you looked bent over for him. The thought of it alone promptly brings his lips back to yours, nearly earning you a round 2 before the food arrives.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It takes Chuuya a long time to admit it, even if it's fairly obvious, but he's self-conscious about his body. About the way he thinks it should look versus the way it actually does. He’s always praising you. Always so good about making you love parts of yourself that you didn't know you could, though he rarely gives himself the same respect. Your thighs get a lot of his attention. He touches them constantly without meaning to. His hand resting on them while he drives. His fingers mindlessly gliding across them while you watch TV before bed. His face buried between them any chance he gets. He loves 'em. You decide to challenge him one day after a shower, using his own words against him: "Chuuya, tell me one thing you love about yourself -" you shoot him a pointed look, not giving him the chance to deflect with his usual sarcasm, "and be serious. You have to mean it." He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, apprehensively looking over his reflection before he lets out a sharp exhale. "Fine. My eyes." "What about them?" You press. "They're... nice."

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

One of Chuuya's favorite highs in life is being pussy-drunk. Being so completely enamored by your taste and scent that he can't physically think of anything else besides you. He loves the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin. The insanely beautiful fucked-out noises you make for him when you sit on his face and nearly drown him in your release. He gets a sick satisfaction in showing up to work, knowing that there are still remnants of the morning head he gave you clinging to the collar of his shirt. You're his girl and he takes making you cum very seriously.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Chuuya is a dominant people pleaser, which is a dangerous combination to begin with, but especially when it starts blending into his finances. Being a Port Mafia executive, he has more money than he knows what to do with and he fucking loves buying you stuff. Taking you on shopping trips and watching you fill bag after bag with frivolous, designer outfits that you’d never buy for yourself otherwise. Swiping his debit card for purses and necklaces and shoes that total out to nearly $10,000. There's something almost addicting about it, he revels in your reactions. The way you look so awestruck every time he drops a fat stack of cash on you, but also how good it makes him feel being able to spoil you as much as he does. Alexa, what does “findom” mean?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Chuuya’s experienced, but a lot of his past hookups were one nightstands or meaningless flings. Drunken mishaps that held little to no weight in his mind. You've both learned a lot from each other by being comfortable enough to explore things you wouldn't have with previous partners. Communication is so strong with him. He always wants to know what you like and if there’s anything you want to try but haven’t yet. He wants to know everything about your body - wants it to only respond to him. He'd had sex in the past, but he realized that he'd never really properly fucked someone until he met you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As much as Chuuya loves bending you over, he’s such a slut for you being on top. Holding your hips to help guide you and thrusting up into you when you’re not expecting it, going as deep as he can while you sink back onto him with a pretty glazed over expression. The way your eyes widen every time he does it. The duality of being in control while also letting you use him. The view of your tits bouncing so perfectly for him while the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs echoes across the room. He loves watching you struggle to take the whole thing. You're usually holding onto him for support, hands clasped around his neck, your stare locked intently with his while your cunt throbs around him. The pouty fucking look that takes over your face when he plunges into you. You become a whimpering mess, trying to tell him how close you are with broken words as if he can’t feel your walls clenching around him. "Chuuya - 'm, I'm gonna -" "I know baby, keep going. Keep fuckin’ going. Doin’ so good f’me.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Chuuya's form of flirting is witty banter. Sarcastic comments that the two of you volley back and forth between each other. He's generally more serious in the moment, but he will literally never pass up the chance to whisper a snarky little nothing in your ear to get you flustered, especially in public. He loves making you blush. Loves knowing that he's capable of getting you so worked up without even touching you. Loves seeing you squirm and swat him away with a feeble, "Chuuya! Not here!"

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Chuuya never really understood the question, "does the carpet match the drapes?" and why it was such a hot topic when it came to redheads. It was wildly irritating growing up and getting asked that so often by his asshole friends. Of course they matched. Why wouldn't they? As an adult, Chuuya fully embraces this though. He takes pride in making sure he's well-groomed. If it were up to him, your lips would always be wrapped around his cock, so he makes sure to keep things as trimmed and polished as he can for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Chuuya is the consent king, always making sure that you're just as into what's going on as he is. He finds subtle ways to check in on you while staying in the moment. "Tell me, baby. Tell me how it feels." He likes to make sure you're present, that you're not thinking about anything else besides the way he feels inside you. He would do anything to make you feel good. Anything. What he can't aways say with his words, he shows through his actions. He lets you know he loves you by stretching and filling you until you can’t see straight. He may act like he’s the one calling the shots, but you'll always cum before he does. He makes damn sure of it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His work schedule is demanding and doesn't always grant him the amount of time he'd like to have with you, so when he's stuck in his office after hours, Chuuya can't fucking help himself. The urge has been there all. day. and he's certain he'll die if he doesn't take care of it right now. He reaches into his coat pocket, dialing your number while he unzips pants and removes his glove with his teeth. His cellphone is wedged between his shoulder and his cheek when your voice finally spills out of the receiver. Before you can even ask how his night's going, you hear it. That desperate, heady tone that he only gets when he hasn't seen you in a few days. "Baby..." he groans, stroking himself upppp and dowwnn. He closes his eyes, imagining what you must look like lying in his bed. "I need you so fuckin' bad right now." "Yeah?" You tease, quietly slipping two fingers under the hem of your panties. "How bad?" It was only a matter of minutes before he was cleaning off his desk from the mess you'd helped him make.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Chuuya is the softest dom. As much as he likes to be in control, he folds so easily when it comes to you. Even when he’s “punishing” you, he’s doing it with things he knows you like. He loves putting collars on you or wrapping his belt around your neck and pulling at both ends until your pretty little pupils blossom into hearts while you struggle to moan out his name. Hearing you beg does something deranged to him that he can't quite put into words. He stays in control for as long as he can, but you always have the upperhand with how bad he wants to taste you. With how bad he wants to be buried inside of you. He'll tease and nip at you and try to drag it out for as long as he can, but at the end of the day, he's just as addicted to you as you are to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Chuuya will fuck you anywhere and when he says anywhere, he means it. His favorite guilty pleasure though is definitely bringing you into Port Mafia. Making everyone well-aware of your presence as he walks around with you on his arm like you're the shiniest, most expensive accessory he owns. Shoving all of his paperwork off of his desk and bending you over, pinning your hands behind your back and pressing your face against the handcrafted Mahogany. Hiking up your skirt and ramming himself into you, knowing damn well everyone can hear you crying out his name as you cum. His two favorite pastimes: pissing off Mori and fucking you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Chuuya secretly loves the attention you get when the two of you go out, even if it drives him a bit crazy at times. He can't deny the way his cock twitches when he notices the bartender size you up and then immediately avert his eyes when he feels Chuuya's stare on him. Chuuya knows you're gorgeous, it's an absolute fact for him, but to see the other people reel in how pretty you are too fills him with a feral sense of pride. He would fuck you in front of the entire world if he could just to show them what they'll never have.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There are very few things that Chuuya wouldn't do for you, but the one request he would struggle with if asked would be sharing. Even if it was a casual threesome with no strings attached, he’s a Taurus Sun, Scorpio moon - the man does not share and the thought of having to watch someone else touch you would most definitely send him into a murderous tailspin.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Chuuya loves both giving and receiving, for sure. But there's something about the way you taste that almost makes his brain short-circuit. He thinks about it while he's at work. Thinks about it while he's on missions. Thinks about it while he fucks himself when you're not around. He often finds himself daydreaming about his tongue swirling around your clit and the adorable, pitiful, fucked-out noises you make so easily for him. The way you whine and writhe against him. How he can always tell when you're close by the way your words start to break up. That cute little incoherent babble you let out as he plunges an extra finger into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He’s pretty sure that if he had to choose his own death, it would be drowning between your thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Pacing all depends on the mood and setting for Chuuya. It's 1 am and you guys just stumbled back home from the bar? You're wearing the shortest black slip dress he's ever seen in his life, and he's had to restrain himself all night from not dragging you into the club bathroom and having his way with you? He's fucking you into oblivion the second you step inside his apartment. Hands tangling into your hair as he pins you against the wall of the entry way, pulling you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. It's going to be fast, rough, deep. You'll both wake up with bruises and love bites and well-deserved hangovers. But - it's 1 pm on a rainy Tuesday and you guys just got back home from the bookstore? You're wearing an oversized cardigan with a comfy pair of shorts, and he's been quietly admiring you all day, watching you dig through countless bookshelves until you finally found the one you wanted? He's fucking you so thoroughly. Taking his time as he helps you out of your sweater, smiling at your body with each layer of clothing that get tossed to the floor. He's kissing the crook of your neck, telling you how beautiful you are. He's fucking you with slow, sensual, affection. You'll end up drifting off to the sound of the thunderstorm afterward, the two of you wrapped up under a blanket on the couch while the rain taps against the window next to you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Chuuya's a giver who loves a challenge so quickies are right up his alley, really. You'll stop by the apartment on your lunch break, warning him that you only have 15 minutes, but he’ll only roll his eyes in response before telling you to hop up on the counter. He locks in immediately, his concentration fully on you as he spreads you apart. Two fingers holding you open so that his tongue has complete access to your clit, the warmth of his mouth and the pressure of his strokes making your legs shake around his head already and he's just gotten started. He's precise. Calculated. Unrelenting. Even if he's only competing against the clock, he's still never lost.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as you're into it, so is Chuuya. He's very open when it comes to sex, especially when it comes to talking about it with you. You had a wet dream about him fucking you against the window in the sunroom so that the neighbors could see it? Lift that skirt up, angel, let's go give them a show. You read a book where the male lead lightly ran a blade across the main character’s throat while teasing her and you think you want to try it? His knife is already out of his pocket, his hand cradling your jawline. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” as he slices through the thin straps of your tank top, smirking at how hard your nipples are while it slips down to your waist. There a very few things he wouldn't be willing to at least try with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Chuuya can generally go a solid 2 rounds before he's completely spent, but if he's drunk, this number could be multiplied depending on his drink of choice that night. Chuuya's stamina is solid. He lasts awhile, but his entire objective while fucking is to make sure you're getting off. He's very in tune and aware of your body and tries to go with the flow of where you're at. If you can handle an hour or two, he'll gladly give it to you. He has no problem playing the long game, but if you're sleepy and only need twenty minutes to get there, he'll make sure he cums with you in that time. A truly adaptable king ˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

There's an armoire in Chuuya's bedroom that houses all of the obscenely expensive vibrators you'd asked him to buy you, not realizing he actually would at the time. He likes to keep them hidden for the most part - out of sight, out of mind. He'll be in the middle of fucking you. Stretching you out while your nails dig into his back. He'll feel your walls start to spasm around him. He'll watch your eyes flutter back. He'll feel how tight and snug your cunt is squeezing him. He'll know you're right there and that's when he'll pull out your favorite wand. Always when you're least expecting it. When you're already so cock-drunk and lost that you don't think you could possibly take anything more, he'll run it along your clit. Your body practically convulsing at the overstimulation. "Chuuya - ohmygod... I... I - can't. I can’t, I can’t -" "Look at me. You can take it, baby. I know you can. Gimme one more, okay? Just like that. There you go. Fuuuck, baby. Just - like... that."

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The amount of sheer pleasure Chuuya derives from making you beg for him should be illegal. He’s constantly teasing you. Constantly trying to coax out desperate little cries from you. You're splayed out beneath him, legs spread beautifully, your cunt nearly dripping onto his sheets and he's still ghosting your lips with his. Wearing the most infuriating grin as he continues to rattle off depraved things like, "Baby, I wish I could, y'know? I really wanna give it to you, but I just don't believe that you want it." all while he's stroking himself just inches above you, making you watch the whole thing in agony but still not letting you touch him yet. "C'mon princess, show me how bad you want it. Let me see how you play with that pussy when I'm not here. Make me fuckin’ believe it.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Chuuya will groan and talk during sex, but he's not necessarily loud. He's way more concerned with the noises you're making anyway. As mentioned, his bedroom love language is taunting. "No? You can't take it anymore? Ohh, your pussy's just so sensitive, huh? That's so sad. My poor sweet girl." before slapping your clit and smirking at you as you whine beneath him. "Oh, look at that. Seems like you can take it after all.” He'll groan against you whenever he goes down on you, reveling in how fucking wet you are for him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chuuya is secretly sentimental. He might not always admit it, but he doesn't just remember your anniversary - he remembers the outfit you were wearing the first time he met you and what the weather was like that day. He saves ticket stubs from your dates. Takes pictures of you when you're not looking just so he can keep the moment forever. He plans gifts for your birthday weeks in advance. Any time you list off a restaurant that you want to try or a vacation spot you want to visit one day, he secretly jots it down in his notes app. He listens to you, really listens to you when you talk and keeps every gift you give him, no matter how small or insignificant.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Chuuya is 5'3, (though he'll most definitely try to convince you that the measurements are off no matter how many times your scale reaches the the same conclusion). Slender. Nice arms and a slutty fucking waist. Hands, hands, hands. Usually covered by gloves but so fucking pretty and veiny when they're not. Speaking of veiny? Chuuya Nakahara is packing. Giiiiirth, babydoll, and a lot of it. Short men are ALWAYS stacked, you can't argue with science.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Chuuya's anger and sex drive mirror each other in the sense that they're both always on no matter what. Even when they're calmed down, even when they're not as noticeable - all it takes is one wrong (or right) move and he's right there, fully up and ready to go. You touch his leg under the table during dinner one night and he immediately finds an excuse to dismiss the two of you for a few minutes, dragging you to a secluded corner of the bar where he pins you against the wall. His leg wedged between yours, leaving urgent kisses along your collarbone as he creates friction against your clit. “This what you want? For me to fuck you right here?” You try to keep your resolve but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when your objections are all coming out in the form of moans. “My needy fuckin’ girl.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He'll lay with you and talk about your day, but Chuuya is struggling to keep his eyes open after he cums. The minute you nestle into his shoulder, and he feels the warmth of your skin against his, he's fighting for his life to stay awake. Poor baby is just so tired, especially after dealing with Port Mafia all week. He feels safe in your arms. The thought of coming home to you is what gets him through most days anyway so once he's finally actually tangled up in you, he can't help but drift off into the comfort of your scent and the sound of your heartbeat.

⠀𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

‎♡‧₊˚ here’s dazai’s version ‎♡‧₊˚

[thewickedjazzy]

Special week: Blurred Lines for Kinktober.

♡featuring: jjk & bsd x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x reader

♡synopsis: being a movie star in the jjk world has its perks and pitfalls, especially when you find yourself face-to-face with four swoon-worthy men. to make things even more complicated, you end up sandwiched between chuuya and geto in one night.

♡warnings: ņsfw, mdņi 18+, established plot, smųt with plot, characters are aged up or in their 20s, threesome, double penetration, cum mentioned, double cream pie, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation 'slut' ... not proofreaded, ig that's it?

♡word count & a/n: 5.2k, a special thank you & a smooch to @remlionheart for helping my ass write this and feeding my brain with her sweet ideas. it was so amusing and fun to write that i couldn't stop giggling. this fic is dedicated to my bbg @bittysuguro

[check the jjk & bsd special week masterlist]

“what do you mean my card got declined?!” a furious voice echoes across the pristine, high-end louis vuitton boutique.

you pause mid-step, glancing over your shoulder. the boutique is one of the most luxurious on omotesando street and honestly you haven't expected any kind of outburst here of all places. you can’t help but arch an eyebrow, pondering if he's trying to pay with monopoly money or if his bank account has suddenly taken a nosedive.

the subject of the chaos stands by the counter, fuming—he’s a redheaded man in a black designer coat with a flat cap pulled low over his striking blue eyes. he looks like he just walked out of a fashion editorial, except for the part where he is practically roaring at the terrified cashier and waving a gold card like a weapon.

you find yourself blinking once again—what in the world is going on?

“sir, i ran it three times, and each time—” the cashier stammers, flinching as the redhead leans over the counter like he is about to blow the place up.

“i know there’s money on it! RUN IT AGAIN!” he growls, and you swear you can see veins popping in his neck.

before the poor cashier can even protest further, another man saunters into view, tall, lean, and wearing the most obnoxiously casual yet designer outfit. white hair peeks out from under a pair of dark sunglasses, and despite the clear chaos, he is wearing the cockiest grin you’d ever seen.

“tsk..no need to get so worked up,” the white-haired man drawled, arms laden with five louis vuitton bags. “your poor is showing.”

the redhead whirls on him, eyes blazing. “what did you just say, you asshole?”

the taller man stands there unfazed with his shit grin spreading wider. “you heard me, short stack.”

the redhead’s whole body stiffens, and you expect him to launch himself across the store. you are only a few paces away, casually browsing the new bags collection, but now you find yourself watching the scene unfold like a deer caught in headlights.

“oh, please,” the white-haired man replies with a chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “you sure you wanna do this, kid?”

at that moment, the shorter guy’s feet literally lift off the ground as he floats up toward the white-haired man, arm cocking back for a punch. it's like some weird gravity-defying stunt, and you can't help but stare, unsure whether you are hallucinating or if this is a really elaborate prank. you half-expect someone to jump out and yell, “surprise! you’re on candid camera!” while someone else films your bewildered expression.

the punch swings forward but… stops. midair.

“what the—” the redhead sputters, his fist hovering a mere inch from the smug man’s face, like an invisible barrier is blocking it.

“oh,” the taller man snickers, “you actually tried.”

just as things are about to get out of hand, a third man appears—a taller figure with dark hair tied back wearing a serene expression as if he just came back from a yoga session. he places a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, gently pulling him back to the ground.

“hey man, let’s not destroy the boutique today, alright?” he says, his tone is unbelievably calm, like he is used to this kind of chaos. his gaze shifts to the white-haired man whilst rolling his eyes. “satoruuu, stop antagonising everyone you meet. people are staring.”

the redhead grumbles something under his breath, glaring daggers at the taller man—satoru?—who simply chuckles back at him.

just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, the fiery-haired man still glaring at gojo, like he’d just stolen his lunch money—suddenly turns his gaze toward you as if he can feel your eyes boring into him. “what are you staring at?”

he takes a step toward you, and you feel your body tense up like a live wire. you can't help but blink back at him, because honestly, what are you supposed to say? "oh sorry, just trying to figure out why a five-foot ball of rage is levitating in a louis vuitton boutique?"

before you can formulate any semblance of a response, a smooth voice cuts in, dripping with nonchalance, “now, now, chuuya, no need to take your frustration out on innocent bystanders.”

the ginger-haired man (chuuya, you think you heard) glare flickers with surprise as a tall man with messy brown hair sidles up next to him, his brown trench coat swaying with his lazy steps. you barely register him before he sweeps his hand out, pushing chuuya aside like a piece of furniture. “pardon my associate’s behavior. he’s always a little testy when his card gets declined.”

you blink. “huh…?”

the brown-haired man gives you a dazzling smile, the kind that should come with a warning label. “ahh but you…” he trails off, letting his dark eyes roam over your figure with a look of pure delight. “such a wonderful sight. how can such a radiant beauty even exist in this world?” his voice dips, smooth and syrupy, and you can practically hear the faint sound of violins playing in the background.

chuuya’s eye twitches as he scowls at dazai. “are you seriously doing this right now?”

dazai ignores him entirely, stepping closer to you. “osamu dazai, by the way. and you must be the goddess gracing us with your presence today. It’s an honor to bask in your light.” he flashes you a grin, the kind that looks practiced but somehow genuine, and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or call security.

“i—uh—” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the situation.

before you can utter another word out, the white-haired man—saturo, you assume, based on the way the other man addressed him—suddenly whips around, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough to reveal his gorgeous icy blue eyes, narrowing his gaze on you.

his entire demeanour shifts in an instant, going from casual smugness to absolute starstruck fanboy in 0.5 seconds. “wait… wait a damn minute—” his eyes widen, and he practically leaps forward, shoving dazai to the side like an afterthought. “you… you’re—no way, it's you! you’re my favourite movie star!”

dazai, now comically stumbling from the shove, frowns, “hey, i was talking first!”

saturo doesn’t even hear him, his attention laser-focused on you as he runs a hand through his white hair, grinning like an excited puppy. “holy shit, i’ve seen all your movies! you’re incredible! i mean, not just pretty—you’re talented too! that last film? chef’s kiss. truly. pure brilliance.”

you stare at him flabbergasted by the sudden barrage of praise. “uh… thanks?”

saturo claps his hands together and then turns to dazai with a smug smirk. “sorry, what were you saying? something about basking in her light?”

dazai, ever the smooth operator, recovers quickly, “wait a minute…” he muses, leaning slightly closer to saturo, “you know, your voice is kind of… nice.” he cocks his head as if discovering a new piece of an intriguing puzzle. “almost like i’ve heard it somewhere before… perhaps in a mirror?”

saturo's eyebrows shoot up, a look of surprise briefly crossing his face before his smug grin returns again. “well, well, aren’t you observant?” he says, hands casually stuffed into his pockets as he looks dazai up and down. “i guess i should compliment your taste then—great minds and great voices think alike.” he chuckles, and you can almost feel the mutual smugness radiating off the two men.

chuuya, who has been silently simmering through the whole exchange, finally explodes. “are ya both fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls, fists clenching at both his sides. “first, i’ve gotta deal with him”—he jabs a finger toward dazai—“and now this jackass too?” his foot taps impatiently on the boutique's polished floor, like he's ready to fight both of them.

“chuuya tsk.. tsk you're just upset because your little card got declined.” he shakes his head chuckling, “i didn’t know the economy would reject you specifically. but you know, you could always start a gofundme or maybe, uh i don’t know, pawn that fancy hat of yours?” he smirks playfully. “i hear they pay well for vintage."

saturo chuckles, clearly enjoying their little banter chaos. “hey, i like this guy! he’s got jokes.” he leans over toward dazai. “you sure we didn’t cross paths before?” then, turning his attention back to you with a teasing glint, he adds, “don’t worry, sweetheart—i’m still your best bet if you’re looking for a hero.” his eyes glimmer with flirtatious arrogance, as if he’s already planned your honeymoon by now.

chuuya throws his hands up in exasperation, shooting dazai an accusatory glare. “this isn’t funny, dazai! how the hell are we even supposed to survive in this weird-ass world when my damn card doesn’t work? not to mention that this is your fault for bringing us to this ridiculous place!”

the bandaged man sighs briefly, slipping into a serious look, “you're right. but I guess it's time to become a street performer. i mean, with your size, you’d make an adorable little tap dancer. might even make some decent pocket change.”

“you son of a—”

“enough!” the hot black-haired guy, who had been silently observing, steps forward, placing a firm hand on chuuya’s shoulder again. “we’re in public. can we try to act like civilized people for five minutes?”

chuuya grumbles, his fists still clenched, but the black-haired guy’s firm grip on his shoulder seems to anchor him enough to stop an all-out brawl. he glares between the two idiots in front of him—dazai still grinning like a smug bastard and saturo, who looks like he’s already planning his next punchline.

saturo straightens, his grin shifting slightly. “ugh suguru..don’t be such a killjoy.” he gestures lazily at dazai, “i was just making a new friend.”

chuuya scoffs. “friends? yeah, right. who the hell are you guys anyway?”

“just… tell them your name already. this isn’t a fight club.” suguru rolls his eyes.

saturo shrugs, turning his attention back to you and flashing that million-watt grin. “well, since suguru insists.” he dramatically puts a hand to his chest as if introducing himself for the first time. “i’m gojo satoru. the strongest sorcerer and uh apparently,”—he glances at dazai with a smirk—“your newest competitor for this sweetheart's attention.”

you sigh, clearly having enough of this shitty situation that feels like the setup for a sitcom episode. the ginger looks more frustrated by the minute, and the sight of him glaring daggers at the so-called companions makes you feel slightly bad for him.

“alright, chuuya,” you say, pulling him toward the cashier, ignoring the stunned look on his face. you feel suguru follow, maintaining a calming presence beside you. the cashier looks just as frazzled as chuuya, but you’re determined to end this nightmare once and for all.

“wait, what are you doing?” chuuya protests, glancing back at you with wide eyes. “you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, really. it happens all the time,” you insist, shooting him a reassuring smile as you pull out your own card. “this is on me. plus you can pay me back in another way, though.”

dazai, overhearing this, perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag crinkle. he sidles over with that ever-present smirk on his face, leaning closer to you. “oh, you accept other ways? you naughty naughtyyy tsk!”

you roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm slightly, and ignore him completely. instead, you focus on the cashier, who looks thoroughly confused but also relieved to see the drama coming to a close. “just run this through, please.”

chuuya crosses his arms, clearly still disgruntled but unable to resist the tide of your determination. suguru shoots him a look that seems to say, “just go with it,” and chuuya huffs, lips pressing into a thin line.

as the cashier processes the transaction, you turn back to huuya. “it's fine, I really get it—everyone has rough days. uh how about you let me help you out a bit? i actually have a project coming up that could use two male leads.”

“it’s a vampire movie,” you explain with a grin spreading across your face as you watch chuuya’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “and honestly, you two fit the aesthetic perfectly. everyone i’ve auditioned so far has been terrible. i could really use your looks and… personalities,” you point toward the redhead and the hot black-haired man.

chuuya raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. “a vampire movie? seriously?”

“actually, I think you’d be perfect for the role. your features and that hair of yours are perfect for it.” suguro chuckles, nudging chuuya slightly.

you watch as chuuya’s expression softens, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. for the first time, he chuckles, rolling his eyes at suguro. “you wouldn’t believe it, but I’ve had to dress up like one just to save that idiot dazai’s neck.”

suguro chuckles back, shaking his head. “guess it’s time to redeem yourself.”

chuuya huffs but a small smile betrays him. “fine, i’ll consider it. but only if you promise i don’t have to wear any ridiculous costumes.”

“i can’t make any promises,” you say with a teasing grin.

suguro smiles, leaning against the counter. “i’ll accept the offer, too.”

you beam, feeling a wave of relief wash over you finally. “great! i’ll send you both the details later.”

“ugh, why is this so hard?” you can’t help but chuckle at his struggle, it’s not like you're defusing a bomb here—just rehearsing a kiss for a scene.

“chuuya, it’s just a kiss. how hard can it be?” you tease, raising an eyebrow, watching him pace back and forth through the rehearsal room like a caged tiger.

“just a kiss? have you seen your face?” he gestures wildly, and you swear you can see steam rising from his ears. “you make it look way too easy!”

you giggle glancing up as you hear a faint creak from the door only to see geto strolling in and casually leaning against the door frame. you can tell that he just got out of the shower as he holds a towel drying his luxurious black hair. you part your lips trying to take a deep breath as you see his damp hair clinging to his neck in a way that’s... well, distracting, and you're not above admitting that. but as he shakes the water from his hair, your mind drifts back—against your will, mind you—to that moment from a week ago.

technically, it was a regular day. nothing special. just you trying on a costume in one of those annoyingly small fitting rooms. and of course, it had to be the tightest, most ill-fitting costume known to mankind. the zipper might as well have been laughing at your misery as you wrestled with it, stuck halfway like it had a personal problem against you.

after what felt like an hour of struggle, you finally managed to peel the outfit off your body like some weird victory over fabric. and that’s when geto decided to make his grand entrance.

“oh, uh... wrong room,” he said and in that split second, you swore your heart had leaped out of your chest, seeing his eyes go wide, flicking down clearly taking in the delicate lace set you had on and oh, the way he stares makes your cheeks flush hotter than the sun on a july afternoon.

you are friends. just friends. well, maybe more than friends. the three of you are getting along—maybe a little too perfectly, if you are being honest. it is in the small things like how geto always have a lighter handy for you and chuuya, even though he doesn't smoke. you have no idea why, but somehow he’d always flick it open when you reach for a cigarette. that, combined with the lingering glances and casual touches that seems far too intimate to be strictly platonic, says something about where things are heading.

chuuya, on the other hand, is... well, he is oblivious. not that you mind it. he is just so focused on the roles you are rehearsing together that he hasn't picked up on the fact that you’ve been flirting with him for a while now. hell, geto had caught on, but chuuya? the poor guy needs it spelled out. you are going to have to make your moves more obvious—or, in chuuya’s case, maybe drastic.

and if you think back to certain moments—like that night when chuuya got himself absolutely plastered. that redhead brat went from zero to blackout drunk in record time, and of course, it fell on you to drag his sorry ass home. you just couldn't see him stumbling out of a bar, half-laughing, half-cursing, completely out of it and do nothing. to be fair, this all came after his impulsive bank robbery—yeah, you heard that right. a bank robbery. apparently, after the whole boutique incident, chuuya decided he was tired of being broke.

so there you were, guiding this drunken menace through the streets, and contemplating how you could spring him from the charges he was facing. he was barely coherent, mumbling something about the "best wine ever" and how the stars were "calling his name." romantic, right? wrong.

by the time you finally got him inside, chuuya, in all his sottish wisdom, decided clothes were optional. without a word—no hesitation, no second thoughts—he started stripping. pants off, dress shirt shirt flung across the room, and he was about to lose the rest when you jumped in.

“whoa, okay, let’s maybe not do that right now?” you managed to say, trying your best to avert your gaze but also wondering why the hell the universe had put you in this situation. because, let’s be honest, as much as you didn't want to stop him... you really, really should.

and you did stop him, somehow managing to wrestle him back into some kind of decency before he could make things even more harder for you. needless to say, he was so out of it, that he passed out immediately after—half clothed, thank god.

and you thank heavens that he doesn't remember a damn thing the next morning about his one-man strip show.

you blink as the sound of geto’s teasing voice yanking you from your thoughts.

“what’s going on in here? i could hear chuuya’s desperation from down the hall.”

chuuya glares at him. “shut it, geto. we’re just—”

“rehearsing a kiss,” you finish, unable to resist the urge to jump in.

“exactly,” chuuya huffs, crossing his arms defensively and pouting—god he's so adorable. “just a stupid kiss.”

geto smiles softly and steps further into the rehearsal room, “well, it can’t be that bad. show me what you’ve got.”

chuuya rolls his eyes, obviously being tested by geto’s teasing and you can see him mentally gearing up, “alright, but don’t laugh if I mess it up.”

you try to flash him an encouraging smile to ease him a little bit. “just breathe. it’s literally just a kiss.”

he nods stepping closer, you notice his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. he gets within a breath’s distance and suddenly seems frozen, his confidence evaporating as he stumbles over his own thoughts. “uh... so...”

you can't help but chuckle softly, leaning in a little closer to coax him. “come on, chuuya. just focus on my lips. you can do this.”

geto—who had been watching from the side with a knowing smile—decided to step in. “you know, it might help to ease the tension. let me give you a few pointers.

chuuya blinked, caught off guard but quickly nodded. “yeah, sure. anything to make it look… believable.”

without uttering a response, he strides over and gently cupping your sweet pink cheeks, leaning in to press his soft lips against yours, and oh god, it’s perfect. the world fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you and the warmth of his lips. you let out a soft gasp as he slips his tongue between your puffy lips, tilting his head for better acess making your heart race as your mind wonders if you’ve just been seduced in a rehearsal. honestly you’re taken aback by how natural it feels, how perfectly his lips fit against yours.

geto loses himself completely in the kiss, his fingers brushing through your hair as if he’s trying to pull you closer, as the kiss deepens a low hum escapes his wet lips. you feel a rush of pleasure floods through your entire body, and just when you think it can’t get better, he pulls away, slightly breathless and blinking as he locks gaze with your lips for a bit before averting his gaze to chuuya.

well as for chuuya, the ginger stands there, wide-eyed, his lips slightly parted as if he hasn’t fully processed what just happened. “uh… was the tongue really necessary?” he stammers, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of crimson.

geto chuckles, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “now you try.”

chuuya blinks again, still looking all flustered but still wants to get it right. he turns to you, hand sliding to your waist in a way that is awkward but endearing.

“fine… i got this.” his voice is hushed as his take your lower lip between his pink ones, trying to mimic what geto had done. it was just a kiss—chaste, careful, like he was still holding back. but then something clicked within you, the ginger's eyes snaps open before growling into your mouth as you slip your tongue into into his before twirling the two pink muscles together. you glide your delicate fingers through his messy strands, pulling him closer for a few seconds before he pulls back, breathing heavily.

“okay, that was… not acting right?” he says, his brows furrowing as he tries to catch his breath. “is that how it’s supposed to feel?”

geto sighs loudly, shaking his head in exasperation. “chuuya, how didn’t you notice? it’s been going on for a few months already. didn’t you realise it? because if you really want us to… you know...”

“ugh, thank you!!! finally someone who can read my hints,” you exclaim, shooting geto a grateful look.

chuuya blinks a few times, his brows knitting together as he processes what’s just been said. “wait, hold on,” he splutter, looking back and forth between you and geto. “are you both... serious?”

“god, i’m such an idiot. i thought we were just—” he pauses

“just friends?” you finish for him, giving him a playful nudge. “come on, chuuya. i thought i was dropping some pretty big hints.”

the redhead runs a hand through his messy hair, looking both at you and geto. “ so..uh..you really want us to fuck you?” he mutters, lips forming into a slow grin.. “like...both of us?”

“uh, yeah?” you say, biting your lip to suppress a smile watching chuuya and geto exchange glances more like a silent understanding seems to pass between them, and before you know it, geto strides over and lifts you off the ground effortlessly.

“wait, wait, wait!” you squeal, laughter bubbling up as you squirm in his grip. “what are you doing?”

“just a little detour to somewhere more private.” he says, glancing back at chuuya, who raises his eyebrows with a sick lustful grin plastered on his face.

“seriously, you guys, i can walk!” you protest, but the thrill of being swept off your feet makes it hard to sound convincing.

“good, ‘cause we'll make sure you won’t be walking straight for days.” chuuya says as he opens the trailer door, stepping inside with geto following suit.

the sound of a zipper being pulled down is the last thing you hear before you’re instantly pressed between the two men, their eager hands working quickly to strip you bare. the fabric falls away easily revealing more of your skin to their hungry eyes.

“damn,” chuuya breathes seeing your skin pebble once they hit the cold air. “you’re even prettier than i imagined.”

your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back on geto's shoulder and you relax for just a second before you feel chuuya's mouth encircled your nipple, his jot tongue swirling around your areola tasting your sweet skin as he groans softly against it.

“hngh—chuuya…” you whimper fingers tightening in his messy hair.

he releases your nipple with a slick pop, then brings his large palms to knead your pillowy breasts. as geto lifts you slightly, guiding your hips down to press against his hard cock. you open your eyes to glance down, breath hitching at the sight of him resting between your slick folds. you can't help but let out a soft gasp seeing how massive he is, tip coated with pre-cum and veins popping and soaked by your essence. you let out a soft moan as he peppers your neck with hot, wet kisses, goosebumps rise across the plains of your skin.

chuuya leans down easing you into geto's embrace and spreading your plushy thighs wider.

“look at her pussy—fuck s’pretty..” chuuya drawls as he spits on your swollen clit drawing lazy cut shapes on it, the warm fluid drooling between your puffy folds.

he then plunges his spit-slicked fingers past the swell of your plump lips, coaxing you to get even wetter for them as geto's large, gritty hands grip your ass, pulling you back and forth on his throbbing, leaky, fat cock.

“such a good slut, sucking my fingers so well,” your cunt clenches eagerly sucking on chuuya's long fingers, once he's truly satisfied, he pulls out of your cunt before smearing your juices all across your folds.

geto grips his cock in his palm, the leaky tip smearing your juices as he positions himself between your chubby cheeks. you never tried anal before and you never expected yourself to gasp that loud feeling the rush of spit pools against the pad of your tongue from him stretching your hole so perfectly. you cry out in surprise before chuuya swiftly plunges his tongue into your mouth swallowing your lewd noises.

“ffuck, i’ve been waiting for this, babe.” you hear geto's soft moans against the shell of your ear from behind, “... thinking of you in those lacy little things... mngh, you have no idea how many nights i couldn’t sleep, wanting to feel you... s’warm and tight around me.” he grips your juicy ass cheeks tighter, thrusting you down against him, as if he can’t wait any longer.

“ready for me doll?” chuuya breathes against your lips.

“yes ahh please chuu—mngh” you try to respond, but your words dissolve into a moan as you feel him slowly push inside your heated core. you had expected him to be gentle—just not this gentle. he languidly slides deeper and deeper, his head dropping forward to rest against your soft breasts, growling as he buries himself inside you.

you dig your nails into chuuya’s shoulders, forming delicate marks on his pale skin as you use him for leverage to push yourself back onto geto's cock. each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, making you shudder as chuuya fills you completely.

“god, you feel s’ fuckin’ good, doll,”

your moans get higher and higher mingling with their grunts and growling, chuuya finds himself thrusting faster than usual, his cock is pulsing from watching you nastily taking him and his friend's cock so perfectly.

“y-you okay doll?” chuuya breathes, his voice laced with awe as he watches your eyes roll back into your skull.

“ffuhmk—yes please more,” you cry feeling geto's pace starting to match chuuya's fast and hard ones, your body tenses up, pleasured from all angles, both with their girthy huge cocks filling you up to the brim, your vision blurs seeing through haze chuuya's eyes roll back, his fiery strands sticking to his face and neck, red hue blossoming under his skin and rapidly spreading to his chest.

“jesus f-fucking christ, you're so hot.” geto breathes against your skin tilting your head so that he can bite down your bottom lip gently before drawing circles with your tongues making the pair of you an even greater mess, both his hands reach up to cup your pillowy breasts squeezing them as they jiggle between the palm of his hands, “mmngh—sugu~ahh” the two of you moaning in unison.

before you can catch your breath, chuuya grabs your cheeks with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his lips crash against yours with a bruising intensity in a sloppy kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth as his fingers roughly toy with your clit, drawing sharp, almost painful pleasure from the sensitive nub. “you gonna cum for us, mngh? gonna be a good slut and cum?” he growls, cupid's bows wet from your searing kisses as his fingers cut circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

the world around you blurs as you're finally pushed over the edge with the repeated brush of their cocks against your spongy spots—a blinding white light floods your vision, static crackling in your ears. chuuya watches in awe, like he's witnessing a miracle, as you cum, your body convulsing with pleasure. at the same time, geto spills inside you, his warm release filling your womb to the brim. the intensity makes you feel like you might pass out, a scream ripping from your throat as the knot in your lower belly unravels with chuuya's twitching cock inside you as he too rocks inside you multiple times riding out his sweet release with force that makes your body shake as he paints your walls with his hot shooting cum filling you up perfectly. you three reach your peak together, perfectly in sync.

the world gradually comes back into focus, as you three try to calm down from your release. geto is the first to pull out, and as he does, you feel his cum slowly drip from your body. chuuya follows, watching in awe your ruined holes leaking with their seeds as your legs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure.

chuuya chuckles breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow, and gently rubs a hand over your thigh. “i’ll get the bath ready for ya doll,” he murmurs, voice still rough from the intensity of his orgasm, before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

you nod, watching his bare form head to the bathroom as geto leans in close, pressing gentle, reassuring kisses to your lips while his strong hands tenderly massage your trembling legs. “relax, baby” he whispers between kisses, his lips still deliciously sloppy, “you did so well. let me take care of you.” he strokes your skin soothingly, bringing you down from the high as you try to catch your breath.

you give geto a tired but grateful smile, your chest still heaving, “t-thank you, sugu,” you murmur softly, watching his lips curl into a satisfied grin, and he continues to massage your legs, his fingers easing away the lingering tension.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelovex @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock

[kkooongie]

I don't know if you get a request, but I still want to make a request. Can you write an article about being a parent with Bsd men? (Dazai, fyodor, chuuya etc.)

A/N || Thank you for sending this request anon! Also...i interpreted your ask this way but if its not what you wanted lemme know! Nonetheless i hope you like it

BSD AS PARENTS

[♡] chuuya always did the girls’ hair, especially whenever they went out. he wouldn’t even let you put a clip. no, nope, never. it had to be him who got to decorate his two pretty little angels’ hairs. before he left for work, he would softly comb their hair and part them into halves, cracking jokes and making them laugh in the meantime. then, he would take two hair ties with cute designs on them, some with butterflies, some with flowers and some with bows on them and tie their hair up in pigtails. and then he would clip equally cute and tiny clips onto their hair. though after they came back from playschool half of the accessories would be missing, some in their bag if the teacher found them, some gone forever. but that didn’t stop your husband from ever doing their hair. chuuya would take even longer to style out their hair if the four of you were going out somewhere till the point that even you would be done dressing up and you would just come and sit beside him and the girls, watching him contentedly as he did one of your daughters’ hair. you always felt your heart swell up with pride whenever this scene unfolded; one girl beside him playing with his sleeves, another on his lap laughing at whatever he had just said, all the while he did her hair, looking at them with so much love and adoration. it was at times like these when you realised that you had fallen in love with the right man.

[♡] you regularly woke up to jouno and the boys sneakily eating ice cream late at night. it was almost becoming a routine, much to your annoyance and amusement. it started a few months ago when you woke up to use the bathroom and got up slowly so as to not wake jouno up but when you turned to look at him, you found the bed empty. for a second panicked gripped you, because where the hell did your husband disappear in the middle of the night? suddenly you heard a giggle come from the kitchen, immediately followed by a ‘shush!’, and you raised an eyebrow, wondering what the three of them were doing in the kitchen at this late hour. quietly, you crept towards the kitchen, and peeped in, nearly letting out an angry gasp at the sight that unfolded in front of you. jouno stood in front of the island with your two boys sitting on it, three of them with a bowl of ice cream in their hands. “don’t tell mom, okay?” jouno whispered with a smile, eliciting another giggle from them. you were about to barge in and scold your husband for letting them have ice creams so late at night, except jouno turned his head slightly to your direction and smiled, indicating that he had seen you. you huffed, rolling your eyes a little before storming back to bed. slowly, this became an everyday event but the more and more you observed them from the dark, the more you found your annoyance turning into amusement. sure you were still worried that the kids might catch cold but it warmed your heart so much to see them enjoying with their father. so you let them be, knowing that jouno always posed as the more stricter parent so they needed some special bonding time.

[♡] every sunday night was fortress night, according to dazai. it all started when your son complained that cartoon nights were for children, and your daughter too quickly jumped into the argument claiming that the four of you should be doing more fun stuff instead. you were very confused, wondering if this was a new mischief they had learnt from their play school. but luckily, your husband came to the rescue. he suddenly claimed that he too, was feeling boredom, and that the kids had announced this just in time for the ‘surprise mommy and daddy prepared' for them. you too smiled and clapped along, pretending that you were completely aware of the situation. you trusted dazai as he walked into the bedroom and came out with all the pillows and mattresses you owned, dumping them into the living room. then, as if on a cue, lightning struck outside causing your son to scream, and dazai grabbed your daughter and pushed her into the heap of soft mattresses, scrambling around to rearrange everything. “quick!” he said to you and your son, “we need to prepare our defenses before the fortress collapses!”. and the kids seem to have thought he was serious because they immediately jumped into the game, putting up pillows and what not. you watched them work hard in amusement, dazai impersonating a general as your children laughed and set up the ‘barrier’ and you found yourself smiling at them before joining in. finally, after what felt like an eternity of laughing and stacking pillows and mattresses up (you weren’t even counting the sudden random pillow fight dazai initiated after he ‘accidentally’ hit you), the four of you were snuggled close to each other inside the pillow fortress, laughing as the rain poured outside heavily. “we should do this every sunday!” dazai laughed, lacing your hand in his as he wrapped another arm around the kids. you smiled back at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “yes, we should.”

[♡] tecchou loved working out with your son. and it was a cute sight to behold. well… most of the time it was. usually you would just walk in to your son standing on your husband’s back as he did push ups, pretending to be ‘running mountains’ for your son. but then one day, you walked in to him holding your son in his arms (well, not exactly arms but rather forearms) and using him… as a weight for bicep curls. you opened your mouth to scold tecchou in case the child got hurt but you stopped when you heard your son giggle in delight, asking his father to go even faster. to this tecchou just laughed, saying that if he went any faster, he would fly off daddy’s arms and get hurt. you nearly snorted at that excuse when you remembered how tecchou used to toss your son into the air, causing shrieks of laughter and horror, one from your baby and one from you. but he always caught him in the end no matter what so you knew that even if there was a possibility that he slipped off tecchou’s arms, he would grab him. tecchou would never let any harm come to both of your precious son. he was the gentlest and most caring soul to exist and at times you were proud to call him your husband. you loved how much time he always kept for your child through these workout sessions, even after a long day of work. even if tecchou would complain about being tired, if your son came scrambling into the room asking if he could ‘accompany daddy when he runs on the treadmill’, tecchou would always readily say yes. and such scenes made you fall in love ith him even more.

[♡] nikolai and your daughter loved drawing on the walls, much to your dismay. you just couldn’t understand them, understand what joy they got from drawing on the walls. and it wasn’t like they were painting murals or something artistic. no! they were scribbling on the walls with crayons, both of them laughing deviously as they continued drawing. at first when you and nikolai discovered your little daughter scribbling away a castle, a princess with a sword and a dragon, you expected nikolai to step up and explain her why it wasn’t good habit to draw on the wall but instead, he picked up a crayon and drew a hill under the caste. and then you stared in horror as the two of them continued with their art piece. but no amount of scolding nikolai in private would change him. he confessed that he just wanted her to grow up without any guilt and good memories and that he would soon paint the walls. you offered them sheets of paper but both of them were still fixated on the wall. and then you gave up. nikolai did paint the walls… only for them to draw again. by now you had given up trying to tell them off, instead resorting to watching them work on their ‘masterpieces’, finding yourself laughing at the small jokes they sometimes cracked. and it swelled your heart to see how serious your daughter was, (now also beginning to draw on sheets with a rather concentrated look on her face). maybe nikolai was right. it was the memories that mattered.

[♡] the kids and fyodor regularly surprised you after work. work was always tiring and draining, you were at a higher position and there was the endless demands of people to be met each day. and honestly, you would have broken down long ago if it wasn’t for your husband and your kids. every single day, right when your work was done for the day, fyodor would show up with kids in front of your office, either with a bouquet of flowers or with some treats he and the kids made together. and seeing his smiling face and their laughing faces would remove all the tiredness you had felt after the long day. it first started out the day after you complained to fyodor and the kids that you were in no mood to have dinner together; you were having a splitting headache and your legs hurt, and all you wanted to do was just to be left alone and rest. at the end of your work the next day, just as you were about to get up equally tired and exhausted, you heard a familiar voice yell ‘mommy!’ and to your shock you found fyodor and your lovely son and daughter walking into your office room with your favourite chocolates. and soon it became an everyday thing, till the point you were looking forward to it. every evening that you drove back home with your family made you look forward to the next day at work.

[♡] kunikida loved baking with his son, no matter how terrible the outcome was. he wasn’t a great cook. nor a great baker. but unfortunately, you were worse. so when your son came up to the two of you and asked if he could start baking because it was something that seemed to interest him (well you were just glad he was using his screen time to search up baking videos), kunikida couldn't say no. but he didn’t know a single thing about baking so he took it upon himself to study all the baking books he could get his hands on and watching as many baking guide 101 videos as he could till the day the two of them actually started baking. and the first cake was… well, more of a biscuit than a cake. but nonetheless you applauded them for the efforts (though your stomach later paid the price). but in both of your eyes it wasn’t the end result that was important. if anything, your son enjoyed the whole process, laughing the whole time and explaining ‘scientific’ reasons for each step to your husband, as you overheard them from the living room. kunikida too seemed to be enjoying it. despite his obsession over being a perfectionist, this seemed to be the first time he ever let it go. and then it became a common occasion for the two of them to bake, the goodies becoming slightly better with each try. you weren’t going to interrupt them. not when your husband and your son looked like they were having the time of their lives while accidentally getting into a flour fights.

[♡] your daughter and ranpo would stay stuck in a place forever, until the puzzle was solved. you had seen this coming from miles away. from the day you and your husband started reading bedtime stories to your daughter, he would try sneaking in small, easy puzzles into them, helping her solve them too. at first you were worried that it was a bit too much for her as you would always see her looking up quizzically at her father and not willing to go to sleep until he explained it to her. but as the days went by, you saw how much she waited for these puzzles so you didn’t nag ranpo about it much. but now, that she was a bit more grown, the puzzles’ complexity became more, causing her and ranpo to stay up late at night at times, even if it was a school night. and worse was when you all would go to the mall and the two of them would enter the bookstore, pick a random sherlock holmes or agatha christie book and try to solve it before. you would probably end up roaming the entire mall by then and still come back and find them huddled together at the bookstore. and at times, that maddened you a lot considering how you hated walking around the mall alone but when you saw how dedicatedly they both were on to this task, you immediately forgave them. because there was no sight more cuter than your husband and daughter scribbling away furiously on a piece of paper as they pretended to be sherlock holmes and miss maples.

[♡] tanizaki was always the canvas for your daughter’s makeup trials. well you supposed you were partially to be blamed for it. you would always put on makeup with her beside you so it was only natural that she too got interested in makeup. she then demanded to have some of yours but since you couldn’t, you gave her some sketch pens and a makeup remover and asked her to try it on her dolls as practice. but little did you know that she would listen to you only half, deciding to use her unsuspecting daddy who was now asleep as a test subject. when tanizaki woke to the giggling girl beside him, he was immediately suspicious of the red sketch pen in her hand and the weird cool feeling on his face. so he reached out for the mirror beside him and… the scream that should have left him would have brought the roof down so instead he just gasped happily and asked her if she was the one who did his makeup. and that was his mistake in deciding to indulge her. because now regularly he would get invited to her ‘parlour’ and would have to sit through hours of sketch pen transformation in the name of makeup. and while it was an hour of you scrubbing his face to get the sketch pen off he didn’t mind if it meant he got to see his girl laughing and having fun. 

© 𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[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. 

[chuuyasheaven]

bsd men as tits ass or thighs pls :3?? (specifically meursault boys)

“Tits, Ass or Thighs— What do they prefer?”

“—Everybody’s got certain preferences, don’t they? So, what are theirs?”

Tags: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Chuuya Nakahara, Sigma / afab! Reader, Nipple play?, ooc! Sigma, praising kink, degrading kink, overstimulation, pet names?, hdc format ig, thigh riding?, hickeys, mentioned lingerie?, spanking, mild brat taming, atp everyone may be ooc, face sitting, oral sex (afab! and m! recieving), titty job, messes of their milk, might contain grammar errors, this is a lot holy shit, etc.

Notes: Maybe u just meant Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya but I added Nikolai and Sigma for funsies— hope this is okay tho!! And I never wrote for Sigma before so sorry if he’s so ooc. . Maybe he’s gonna be added to my list lol.

Dazai Osamu ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 I just know that he loves your thighs!! In my opinion, DAZAI lives for seeing you in thigh highs, especially if you have thick thighs. What do you mean you don’t wanna crush him with them??? What else are they made for then— oh, right, hickeys. It’s obvious that he’ll leave some marks here and there for fun, but another thing he lives about them is face sitting. This is literally the best way to die?!!? But also he lives to grab your thighs when he eats you out!!!

💙 Scenario;

He’s been at it for too long, you don’t even remember how many times you came already. . “Dazai, p–please. . S–sensitive!”, you tried to beg, but Dazai was way into this— Once you sit on this mans face, he won’t let go until your too sensitive, Dazai also always leave hickeys while he’s at it. Chanting how he would love to die this way, being crushed by your massive thighs. “—Why should I? You’re still talking properly, I won’t stop until you’re only able to moan my name. Now be a good girl, alright, ‘donna?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 In all honesty, this man is a mystery for me– but if I would have to chose, thighs. FYODOR is kinda religious and stuff, meaning he’s definitely gonna be kinda traditional. (i do not know wtf I’m talking abt.) Fyodor doesn’t know what it is, but something about you in white lingerie and white thigh highs sets him off completely. Looking all innocent but being the complete opposite? Yes, absolute approval from him. But being the busy man he is, he’ll let you sit on his lap while he caresses your thighs!! :3

💙 Scenario ;

Seriously, how desperate are you? Walking up to Fyodor in white lingerie and white thigh highs while he’s obviously working? He finds it quite amusing how you think he’ll stop immediately to fuck you, no he won’t, yet. Fyodor just commands you to sit on his lap, now you’re getting off on his own thighs. But you’re still wearing panties, though he doesn’t care, you wanted this, didn’t you? As you keep grinding against it, he slapped your pussy through the fabric multiple times before. The small whines and whimpers are cute, but won’t change his mind to take you right now. “—I don’t really know what you expected me to do. . Well, actually, i did. It’s quite adorable how you think just because you’re desperate I’ll feed into your desires. Anyway, you seem to be getting off pretty easily, slut.”

Nikolai Gogol ;

💙 Tits 💙

Come on, this is so NIKOLAI, seriously. He's so silly, he would literally call them his personal stressballs. (Do not even try to deny it, it's canon.) Nonetheless, he likes to cum on them, Nikolai will make a mess out of them every time whenever you're giving him head. Another thing their useful for, in his opinion, is tit fucking!! It's a nice feeling for him when his dick's inside of your tits. Not to forget, your nipples are pretty fun to play with, but there's one last thing about them. .

💙 Scenario ;

There are many reasons why Nikolai adores you riding him! He loves how he barely has to do anything, hearing the adorable sounds leaving your mouth while you get off on his cock and most importantly, the way your tits bounce with you. All he's doing is laying back and enjoying the view of your tits almost bouncing out of your bra, he would love if they were to actually jump out. “—Hm, would you look at that! Your tits are seconds away to spill out of your bra, dove. I wouldn't mind if they did, maybe you just need to ride my dick faster. . Just like the needy whore you are.”

Sigma ;

💙 Tits 💙

I’m not really sure if it’s accurate, but running an casino ain’t easy. So what’s better than having you and your comfort. .—able tits? SIGMA would never admit it, but he loves them, dearly at that. If he ever needs an break, his head would probably rest on them. On the spicy side, he loves a good tit job. You mentioned this once and Sigma wasn’t against it, sure he was blushing over your suggestion but after he tried it, he loved it!!!

💙 Scenario ;

It felt good, really, Sigma loved your suggestion! He never thought of something like this, he never thought about recieving a tit job, but it felt heavenly. Just the way your tits were rubbing against his cock so good, it felt unreal. . The most beautiful whimpers left his lips, with his flushed expression on his face too, you assumed Sigma was enjoying himself, very. Soon he reached his climax, letting his cum leak on your tits. “—F–fuck. . You did s–so good, darling. Now, lay back and let me return the favor, yeah?”

Chuuya Nakahara ;

💙 Ass 💙

Ah, yes. CHUUYA is, in my opinion, an ass man. I saw a few people say that, and I agree. Like, he’s literally proud of that. He would slap your ass unexpected, respectfully though. He wouldn’t care if you’re carrying a bakery or not, he still slapping it!! Chuuya loves to spend money on matching bras and panties for you, but on your in general. Sometimes it gets to your head or something and you start to act out, which our ginger won’t let slide.

💙 Scenario ;

Lately, you’ve gotten on Chuuya’s nerves. Yeah, he loves to spend money on you and you, but he won’t stand you being bratty. As to right now, he’s ‘punishing’ you for it. The reference for ‘punishing’ is quite just fucking you until it’s stuck in your pretty little brain not to act out again. This time though, Chuuya added something to your punishment. . “Ch–chuuya. . ‘m sorry, I–i didn’t mean to—”, you tried to apologize, only to be silenced by another spank. “—Really? Too bad, you’re gonna take this if you want me to fuck you, baby. Just keep on taking f’me and I’ll fuck you soon enough, m‘kay?”

OH EM GEE YOU GUYS IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO FINISH

[chuellas]

Fine Line | Chuuya is always overworking himself, always choosing work over you and you’re finally fed up with it.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!reader, mentions/consumption of alcohol, term “doll” used, a tiny itty bit suggestive if you squint, hardly edited, WC: 5k

A/N | I had no idea where I was going with this one when writing it but I had so much fun writing it

You’re sitting at the bar now. You moved from your reserved table after an hour of waiting, figuring it could go to a couple that actually planned on spending the evening together. You let out another sigh into your gin and tonic. You’ve been at this restaurant for about 2 hours now and haven’t eaten a single thing. It’s your date’s fault, really, they were the one that never showed up. You don’t know why you even try anymore. Dating was pointless in your line of work anyways. 

But sometimes going on dates warded off the loneliness and that incessant craving you get for normalcy.

You check your watch for the time only to find it’s now past midnight. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you finally make the decision to pull out your phone and call the person you actually wanted to spend the evening with. You're pleasantly surprised when he picks up on the first ring.

“Thought you had a date.” You’re greeted with a tone that’s laced with exhaustion but something else jumps out too — annoyance, maybe? Or maybe you’re just imagining things after downing your third drink of the night on an empty stomach.  

You hum, pointedly not answering his question directly, as you signal for the bartender to close out your tab. “You still in your office working on that mountain of paperwork?”

The pause from the otherside of the phone is a long one, it’s a contemplative pause you conclude, you can tell he’s trying to decide whether to humor you or to push his own question. It would be a waste of his time to go with the latter, you had no intention of breaching the topic of you being stood up yet again. This time especially stung with it being a woman and all. You thought she would have known better, or at the very least have the common decency to warn you of her impending absence, knowing very well how long it takes to get ready for a first date. You shaved and took an “everything” shower for this occasion.

A soft sigh of defeat is heard from his side and you grin widely, Chuuya is much smarter than he’s given credit for. “So what if I am?”

“Stay there. I’m on my way.” You don’t give the executive room to argue as you hang up on him. 

As if on cue the bartender brings you the receipt and your card, after signing you leave a generous amount of cash in the tip jar with a smile. You leave the restaurant the same way you came, without a word as the manager babbles on about how much of a pleasure it was to have your patronage. You wave him off with the same smile that’s feeling more forced by the minute as you step into the elevator.

When the doors slide shut after what seems like an eternity, you’re finally able to relax for a moment. The disappointment of another wasted night sinks into your shoulder, making them cave in. You deflate in defeat, having to resign to a fate that’s been set by some stupid carrot topped man that has to use his ability to reach the top shelf of overhang shelves. He’d never admit it but you’ve actually caught him doing it before. 

This was all somehow Chuuya’s fault. If he ever did anything other than work you wouldn’t seek solace in other people. You would be able to let yourself actually explore the feelings that stir in your chest when you’re around the ginger. But instead you’re stuck calling him after failed dates to see what he’s up to and if you can get away with bugging him. 

Headquarters is just a few blocks north of where you’re at, it shouldn’t take you more than 10 minutes to get to Chuuya. Well, maybe 20 since your favorite ramen place is on the way and you know they’re still open. So you have to stop there for two bowls because not only have you not eaten but you know Chuuya probably hasn’t either, being too engrossed in his paperwork to remember that basic bodily functions exist. 

Another 5 minutes after picking up the ramen and you’re making your way up yet another elevator to the floor that holds both your office on one side and his on the other. You take a moment when the doors open to decide whether you want to go straight to Chuuya’s office or if you want to stop at yours to change into something far more comfortable than the dress you’re currently wearing. Your stomach ultimately makes the decision for you when it rumbles loudly. The ginger’s office it is.

You don’t even bother with knocking, too tired, hungry, and impatient to wait on him to answer. The door creaks as you push and then groans out a complaint when you kick it shut behind you. Chuuya isn’t even fazed when you enter, his nose still buried in his paperwork. Thankfully the pile was no longer a mountain, more of a small hill now. It still looks like an hour or two’s worth of work. You’d offer your help if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pretty sure you’re drunk. 

Making yourself comfortable without a word you saunter over to his desk and choose to sit yourself on top of his scattered paperwork, plopping the ramen in front of him.  

Chuuya freezes, staring at the bag of food in disbelief before turning his accusing glare at you. “What the f-”

His words die in his throat when his eyes finally land on you. Even in your slightly, maybe more, inebriated state it’s hard not to notice the way his eyelids droop as his dual colored eyes scan your figure. He must be really tired, he’s usually far more tactful when he checks you out. 

You swing your legs where they dangle from his desk, pleased with yourself and his reaction. “I brought you some dinner. I didn’t get a chance to eat so I figured neither have you. Looks like I was right!”

Chuuya has to practically tear his gaze from you to see what you’re talking about. You untie the bag to reveal two containers filled to the brim with ramen. You lean in to read the labels to make sure you were taking the right container but in the process it gives the executive a nice view right down our cleavage. You have to bite back the smile that threatens to stretch at your lips when you hear the way his breath stutters. Maybe now you’re the one not being tactful but you figure someone deserves to appreciate the way you look in this dress since the intended party will never get to. 

“You stop at that shop down the road?” Chuuya clears his throat as he waits for you to grab all of your things before reaching for his own container.

You kick off your shoes and jump off his desk to pull a chair up to the opposite side. “Yeah, thankfully they stay open late. Can you clear some of the papers up? Don’t wanna get them stained in ramen broth.”

“Really makin’ yourself at home, aren’t you, Doll?” He raises a brow at you in amusement but clears his desk off regardless.

You hum and nod your head, too busy taking a bite of your ramen. Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head and you let out a pleased hum at the flavors dancing along your tongue. The savory taste of the broth alone almost completely washes away the lingering bitter aftertaste the last few hours left in your mouth. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you had stepped foot into that shop. Now you are famished and even the most bland of foods would taste absolutely divine in this moment. You’re so absorbed in your meal that you don’t even take notice of the way the ginger sitting before you is watching you so intently that he hasn’t even touched his own food. 

It’s not until he clears his throat that you peer up at him. “You’re eating like you’ve been starved, didn’t you have a date tonight?”

There’s that question again, you suppose you gave him too much credit earlier. He wasn’t smart enough to just let it go. Or maybe he really was just letting his curiosity get the best of him. Either way there was no way in hell you were going to tell him that another date bailed on you. So instead you smile sweetly.

“You know how small the portions are at those types of restaurants, I took like two bites and it was all gone. Had some drinks after too. So, yeah, I’m famished. I know you are too. Eat.”

Your tone leaves no room for question. You’re both dancing around touchy subjects. Chuuya knows if he wants to get you to admit what really happened he would have to swallow his pride and admit he was overworking himself and he'd be damned if he ever let that happen. 

Or at least that’s what you thought. 

You watch him through your lashes as he opens the ramen and takes a bite, and then another, and then another. He hardly ever eats when there’s work to be finished. This is definitely a rare occasion and you have a sneaky feeling, somehow during the few seconds of your exchange in challenging glances, something shifts between the two of you. 

You stare at the other executive absolutely gobbed smacked at the fact that he’s actually listening to you. Your eyes are wide, your jaw is dropped open, and the chopsticks you were using to eat fall from your fingertips and splash into your soup. A few drops from the broth fly into your eye and you let out a hiss at the sting from the spices and temperature. 

The moment the two of you just had ends just as swiftly as you fan at your eyes frantically and then hold out your hand to Chuuya. “Eye drops- Oh my god your eye drops. Now, Chuuya.”

The ginger is jolted from his stupor when your voice becomes sharper. He reaches into the drawer to his left and produces a small bottle of eye drops, something you knew he keeps around due to his frequent late nights burning the midnight oil. It’s how he keeps his eyes from getting dry with exhaustion. 

You snatch the small bottle from his hands and throw your head back to all but squirt the soothing solution into your eye. It takes a moment to work, the sensation getting worse before it gets better. But after a moment you’re good as new, maybe even better than before. 

It’s a truly sobering experience and any left over buzz you were holding onto sadly fizzles out. You’re now stone cold sober and kicking yourself for coming here this late, know the only outcome is getting sent away so the ginger could finish his work in peace. You’re nothing but a distraction to him.

But if that were true, why even let you into his office, his space, in the first place?

“Thanks…” You hand the medicine back to Chuuya and pick your chopsticks back up to continue eating, pretending like nothing happened. “So, how many nights in a row have you slept here this week?”

You tilt your head to the couch that has a head pillow and blanket set up on it — inviting, almost, if you didn’t know how incredibly uncomfortable that couch was. It couldn’t be good for his back. You know he already deals with the residual chronic muscle pain he experiences after using his ability, especially after using corruption. You wish he would slow down, his body already pays for his ability, it doesn’t need to suffer because of his excessive working habits too. 

But then you would just sound like a broken record. 

Chuuya never really listens. He’s stubborn that way and it’s not just his body that pays for it, his social and love life pay the price for it too. It’s frustrating to care so deeply for someone who would rather think of others and their work than their own wellbeing. 

What’s worse, though, is that you’re selfish. You’ll take the heated stares and intimate touches in the dead of night on the rare occasions he’s not spending them at his desk over nothing at all. Maybe it isn’t selfish, maybe it’s self-deprecating but you can’t help yourself. You’ve tried to move on — that’s what you were trying to do tonight. But the universe has a sick and twisted sense of humor, so you once again find yourself in his office during the devil’s hour.

Suddenly you hear a muffled voice and you’re thrusted back to reality. Chuuya looks at you expectantly and you furrow your brows at him. “What?”

“I said: I figure you wouldn’t be eating with me right now if your date went well, you’d be over at his place, right?”

Your eye twitches in irritation and not from the soup broth that landed in it just moments ago. He’s trying to evade your question. Of course he was actively avoiding it, why would he ever admit to you something that you don’t think he’s admitted to himself. 

What’s worse is he’s pushing his question from earlier. Wording it differently to mask his nagging curiosity. His gaze is hypnotizing, something shifts again. You don’t think you care for the butterflies that erupted in your stomach. The usually light and exciting flutter of their wings now feel like razors slicing their way up your throat. It burns and you might throw up.

It’s so unfair, the way he makes you feel is unfair.

You don’t know what possesses you but a single syllable flies past your lips in response before you can catch it. “Her.”

“Her?” And this man has the audacity to look semi-amused as he says the word back to you in a questioning tone. 

In that moment you know he knows and you watch in abject horror as his amused expression twists into a knowing one. Now you’re sure, he’s aware that you know he knows. 

Your eye almost twitches again at the way his brow raises in amusement at your answer and suddenly you feel defensive. You don’t give a shit if he knows what you’re trying to do by dating around. You don’t care if he knows that each attempt has ended in failure. You don’t care that he knows that each failure ends in you crawling back to him.

You don’t care.

You don’t.

You steel your expression, eyes becoming sharp as they bore into Chuuya. “Yeah, it was supposed to be a woman I was meeting tonight.”

“Well she’s an idiot for not showing, especially when you look like that.” His tone sounds sincere and it makes you want to throw up.

You let out an incredulous scoff — you can’t believe that he just said that, of all people. “She’s not the only idiot.”

“She’s not?”

Now he’s really starting to piss you off, his smug expression tells you all you need to know. This must all be a game to him. He’s toying with you, he has to be, and he has been for a while now but you’re finally sick of it. You’re tired of the constant back and forth but not getting anywhere because he would rather stubbornly overwork himself half to death to have an excuse to avoid you than admit his obvious feelings for you. 

The revelation sends your whole body into a fit, you’re trembling and seething and it’s pouring out the seams. You’ve cracked. You should congratulate him, really, no one has elicited this much emotion from you before.

Chuuya’s demeanor changes when he notices how worked up you seem to be getting but he’s too late. You’re already past the point of being settled down because you’re shaking like a goddamn chihuahua. Your nostrils flare in irritation and ears flush in anger. 

“No, she’s not the only idiot that’s managed to fumble me. Look in a mirror and you’ll know who the other person is. Enjoy overworking yourself to death. I’m going home.” 

All at once the blazing rage that washed over you burns out when Chuuya makes no indication of moving to stop you and immediately you wish the ground would just crack open to swallow you whole. Suddenly you’re all too aware of your response to his play. It was more of an overreaction. How embarrassing? How is it that he’s able to elicit this strong of a reaction from you. 

How can he not follow after you like he has better things to do?

But he does have more important things to do than console you, doesn’t he?

For the second time tonight you’re mortified, but unlike earlier, this one was your own doing. You just threw a fit, had an actual tantrum, over someone who has made it clear he’s not ready for something that you think you are.

Maybe selfish is the right word.

You contemplate halting in your spot and apologizing but your pride keeps you from doing so. You should have never put all your cards on the table. You curse yourself for ever letting your true feeling for the ginger slip that one drunken night several months ago that when asked about the next day you had conveniently forgotten all about it. Something tells you that he remembered it clearly, so, if not stopping you was his final response to your confession then you have to accept that. 

Your hand reaches out for the door knob and you almost flinch when it comes in contact with the cold metal. He’s really just going to let you leave like this. Your head is a mess— no, your whole body is a mess. Your head is filled with fog, a mist of endless thoughts descending on you to make everything blurry. Your chest is like a tsunami of emotions washing over you in sharp waves. Then there are those damn razor sharp butterflies that are still threatening to claw up your throat. 

But just as you start to turn the knob, a gloved hand covers your own and halts your actions. Your breath hitches when the anxiety you’d been feeling just a moment ago completely dissipates. Chuuyas chest is pressed against your back and his forehead falls to your shoulder. 

“Chuuya wha-”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish your question when he mumbles out, “I don’t need a mirror to know that…”

Oh. 

Is he really implying that he knows he’s been a fool? Is the world coming to an end? Chuuya? Admitting to being an idiot? You thought there was a higher chance of getting struck by lightning before hearing anything of the sort from the executive himself. 

“I’m sorry.”

You blink, you think your brain’s been fried, convinced that Chuuya can see the steam rolling out of your ears as you short circuit. “For what?”

You croak out the short question, words catching in your throat. It surprises even you when a sob follows. You hadn’t realized that the emotions you were feeling hadn’t dissipated but instead had been forced out in the most embarrassing way possible. 

“I…I’m sorry for…” Chuuya trails off and curses under his breath, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Jesus Christ. I’m sorry for not putting you first.” 

His voice trembles in something akin to fear. Something in your chest tears at his tone and it hurts. You look up at the ceiling to try to blink away the water that’s blurred your vision and take in a sharp breath after getting winded from the sudden blow. Your hand finally falls from the door knob and you both stand there in silence. The only noise is the grandfather clock that stands tall on the far end of his office, if it wasn’t for the loud ticking, everything would feel frozen. Something about the silence on your part is agonizing, you want to respond, but your voice is caught in your throat, swallowed dryly as you try to wet the dry patches stinging the lining of your esophagus.

Funny how your eyes feel too wet while your throat is too dry. 

You try to take a few breaths to calm yourself down enough to speak but you can feel the impatience radiating off of Chuuya and it just makes you even more anxious. It almost physically pains you but you take a step away from the ginger and stride across the room to an open window. Fresh air, something you always appreciated about Chuuya is that he prefers open windows and fresh air to fans or air conditioning if he can help it. The executive doesn’t follow, he hasn’t even moved from his spot. His head is still drooped down from where it was resting on your shoulder and suddenly your mouth and throat flood with saliva. That familiar feeling of nausea hitting you like a freight train once again.

You clear your throat to speak but realize -- how the hell do you respond to that? Are you really upset with Chuuya? Yes. Are you upset with yourself for letting things go this far? Also yes. So, as much as you want to blame all of this on the gravity manipulator, you can’t. 

Your shoulders slump and your gaze stays glued to the twinkling city lights in the skyline as you finally speak. “You always chose work. Always.”

Chuuya looks up at that. Your words seemingly hit a nerve as irritation flashes across his face before he can contain it. You bristle at that, preparing for an argument. You’re exhausted and don’t want to argue but you will if you have to because although you know you’re at fault too, you’re not going to just let this asshole get away with his part in all of this.

Luckily, the ginger simmers down easily and slumps again, showing you how truly exhausted he is. “That’s not entirely true, I chose you…Sometimes….”

“You think I should be grateful for that? You only chose me instead of work ‘sometimes’ to make yourself feel better about stringing me along.” You’re not looking at him when you speak, too interested with the view, or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.  “Or to get your mind off of work. I was just an escape to you. Nothing more.” 

This time you don’t have to look back at him to feel the frustration radiating off of him in a similar way gravity manipulation does when he activates it. It’s hot, his frustration, you imagine if you reached out there was a chance you’d get burned. It’s rare to witness Chuuya losing his cool like this, the only other person besides yourself that could get him riled up like this long gone from the organization. Thinking about him makes you even more bitter so you take another stab at Chuuya.

“You certainly put on a convincing act, though. So congrats for that I guess.”

Snap. 

You imagine that’s the sound that would’ve been made when Chuuya’s patience finally breaks. His steps are heavy and you almost think he’s activated his ability. You almost forget how fast he is because you barely have time to turn around before he’s got a firm grip on your face. His hold is unrelenting as he forces you to look at him. 

Chuuya looks like a wreck, so many emotions written all over his face but most of all he’s hurt by your words. You know it’s wrong, you shouldn’t be lashing out at him like this but a part of you is pleased that he looks just as devastated as you feel. This is not your proudest moment by far and you’re sure you’ll feel ashamed over it later. Right now, however, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty in the slightest. You said what you said and you're going to say it with your whole chest.

A shaky breath is let out by the executive standing before you. “That’s unfair. You’re being unfair.”

There’s no way this man is accusing you of being the unfair one here.

“You were unfair to me first. I’m tired. Be straight with me or just leave me alone, Chuuya.” Any fight you had in you moments ago vanishes as you finally give up.

Chuuya’s reaction shows you that he sees it, the way you’re letting him hold all the cards in this, making this his decision, the final one when it comes to this situationship. You’re done, you’re tired and now you just want this shitty night to be over with. If you had a white piece of fabric on you, you’d wave it like a flag, surrendering completely. 

He’s not good with his words, Chuuya has never been as articulate as some of the others, but he is good with actions. His actions have always spoken volumes for him, so why wouldn’t that work for him now? The executive pulls you in and crashes his lips to yours in a desperate attempt to convey to you what he couldn’t speak.

You’re a little slow on the uptake as your brow furrows and you attempt to pull away. You look at him incredulously but the expression he’s making has you halting altogether. His eyes are screwed shut and his brows furrowed in concentration and maybe a little bit in fear by the way you can feel his lips and hands slightly trembling against your face. It clicks then.

Chuuya Nakahara is finally choosing you over his work. 

This was him telling you in his own way that he’s not letting you give up like you wanted to. And if you can claim to know anything about Chuuya, it’s that he always makes good on a promise. That’s what has you melting into his hold and returning his kiss with just as much fervor. 

You both stay like that for a long while and you feel like Chuuya is trying to devour you whole in this one single kiss. As if he’s scared that if he doesn’t, you’ll slip from his grasp forever, but that would be impossible with the way he’s holding onto you for dear life. Even if you wanted to, which in this moment you didn’t, you couldn’t escape him. But you do need to pull away for air though. You shift your face the best you can away from his and even though he tries to chase your lips, you manage to separate from him.

You instantly bring your hands up to his wrist and nuzzle your face into his hands, showing him you still have no plans of going anywhere. The tension in his body dissipates and he watches you closely, patiently waiting for your response. As if you kissing him back wasn’t enough. 

“You piss me off, y’know that?” Chuuya lets out a chuckle at your statement and leans in to rest his forehead on yours.

His eyes bore into yours and there’s something there that you’ve never seen before, a sort of adoration you think he’s been holding back for a long time now. “Yeah, I have a confession to make that might piss you off even more…”

You stiffen in anticipation for the worst, staring up at him suspiciously with narrowed eyes. What was it now? You wrack your brain thinking about what he could possibly still be holding back. All you wanted was to know where you stood with him and now you do. So what else would he be hiding from you?

“It’s, uhh…Well it has to do with your date tonight, and maybe all of the other first dates that stood you up…” The look on your face must tell him that you’re picking up on where this is going and his grip on you tightens once again. “It was fucked up of me, I know. I’ll- I’ll make it up to you…I’ll take you out on two dates for each first date I ruined.”

Oh. 

You can’t even really find it in yourself to be that upset. It clears up a lot of inconsistencies for you. You have full confidence in your personality and looks, so it wasn’t adding up why you were being stood up so much. Even with you being a part of the upper echelon of the Port Mafia, that’s not public information. So, intimidation was ruled out too. You are becoming increasingly more annoyed at the thought of it all.

Maybe you should find it in yourself to be more upset about this…

Your expression displays just how unconvinced you are by his words, Chuuya can clearly see it and sense it so he tacks on some extra sweet talking to sooth your overthinking. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for anyways.”

Your previous statement of Chuuya not being very good with his words is a lie. You were lying. The simple statement is enough to have you melting into him again. Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Maybe he got lucky. Maybe you’re just that down bad for him. Or maybe it’s all of the above. Who knows (you do).

Either way you find yourself giving in again for hopefully the last time tonight, but not before you decide to add a condition for your own benefit. “...Fine. But any trip or out of town get away counts as only one date.”

“Don’tcha think you’re getting greedy now, Doll?” Chuuya lets out another chuckle, shaking his head a little.

You shrug with a soft grin on your lips. “No, you owe me. Plus, it’s like you said, got a lot of time to make up for.”

[nxathyx]

"That's my lap..."

Gn!reader x Dazai Osamu, Gn!Reader x Ranpo Edogawa, Gn!Reader x Chuuya Nakahara, Gn! Reader x Akutagawa Ryuunoske, Gn!reader x Nikolai Gogol, Gn! Reader x Fyodor Dostoyevski, Gn! Reader x Sigma

So i just remembered that audio that was like

"hey, is that seat taken?"

"That's my lap.."

"i know what I said"

And i thought it'd be fun to write something similar so basically reader sitting on the bsd boys lap

Tw: slight suggestive themes (like hair pulling, grinding, marks/bites/brusinig, straddling if you want to count that, spanking), sitting on ones lap, ooc, cursing, slander (im slandering Fyodor once more), bad grammer

Dazai Osamu

° would definetly grab your hips and push you down on his lap

° I feel like he prefers when you're back is towards him so you can rest the back of your head against his chest while he just reads, does something on his phone or just stroke your hair

° definetly just does it as a pass time

° definetly Held your waist and made you grind against his thigh or just generally against him

° I feel like he enjoys having you on his lap in the agency, just to tease you and to anger Kunikida

°I feel like he'd massage your shoulders and leave feather like kisses on the back of your neck

Ranpo Edogawa

° I don't know why but I think he prefers sitting on your lap

° but if you do end up on his lap you two would just be quietly enjoying each others company eating some snacks and engaging in conversation from time to time

° definetly places his hands on your tummy and just plays with the skin (that sounds weird asf)

Chuuya Nakahara

° okay either likes having you on his lap sideways or you straddling him

° It depends where and what his mood is

° if you have a more childish and or silly personality would definetly use his ability to kind of make you jump up and down, and when I say up I mean like 30cm off his lap up

° would probably try to get a bit frisky

° once he let you sit on his lap while you did his eyeliner (he loved it)

° I feel like he'd know how to braid hair so would definitely do that (if your hair is long enough for that)

° I have no clue why but I feel like he'd pull your hair and then say some kinky shit in your ear😧

° you're probably leaving with a bruised and bitten neck

° if you have fishnet tights on he's definitely fondling with the plush of your thighs (slap his hand away if you don't want those to be torn [he will buy you new ones though])

°probably has a hand on your neck/throat

° if you wear chockers especially leather ones he's pulling on it just to kiss you

Akutagawa Ryuunoske

° how the fuck did you manage to even do that

° mf definetly uses rashoumon to keep you in place if you try to get up

° I legit don't know what else to say rather than what the fuck

° I think Akutagawas very kinky in private so expect a lot of lewd comments, maybe even spanking (this is so ooc right now💀

Nikolai Gogol

° mf once straight up kidnapped you with his ability just to have you sit on his lap

° likes having you kind of bounce on his lap (my grandma used to do that and it's kind of like you're pretending you're riding a horse while making sounds of the hooves clicking against the floor with your mouth. Eastern Europeans will probably understand)

° would show you card tricks

° I don't know why but I feel like he'd just randomly draw on the back of your neck (maybe sometimes with his mouth—)

° definetly drew a dick once and thought he was hilarious😭😭

° he grips your thighs from behind (I think he'd have really long and well kept nails so expect crescent moons on them)

Fyodor Dostoyevski

° personally I wouldn't go for that 😁

° don't touch his hair, you'll get 8 unknown diseases or something (I love hating on him so much)

° his body is really cold so use it to cool yourself off on a nice sunny day

° okay i don't know why but if you like a top or dress or corset or anything that needs to be tied on the back he'd sit you on his lap and zip it or tie it for you

° this man has such a hard grip on your hips, like you're leaving with bruises

Sigma

° I feel like he'd prefer to sit in your lap

° either that or just let you cuddle up to him while he's working or something

° will have one hand on your lower back

° if you ever strattled him he'll be so confused and embarrassed

° like don't do this to him he has to focus on the casino not the way you feel on him

°(he definitely gets turned on real fast)

[usagi-chwan]

That's not what I meant! (BSDxReader)

🌸 Characters featured in this chapter: Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Sigma, Tecchou, Fukuzawa, Oda & Fyodor.

🌸 Spoils: none ~

Hello, here I am again for a Wattpad request, who gave me the green light for the topic as long as I included Tecchou and Sigma. And here it is!

So I've decided to write about a subject I've had in the back of my mind for a long time: how do the characters react when the reader accidentally calls them dad/mum?

I wish you an excellent read!

Chuuya

- Very different reactions depending on the situation you are in. 

- If you are with other people, poor Chuuya will simply turn as red as a tomato, totally embarrassed, especially if Dazai's there and he starts banging out the laugh of his life. 

- But if the two of you are alone, it is up to Chuuya to start laughing unstoppably. 

~

Dazai

- Probably the worst reaction of all. He simply laughs and rolls on the floor.

- You can be sure he will be raging at you with this for a long time, introducing you as his child to other people.

~

Atsushi 

- Benevolent to a fault, he smiles gently as he points out your mistake. A darling.

- Just do not let other people be around when you slip...

~

Sigma

- Remains motionless for several seconds, totally unprepared. 

- Eventually, however, he starts to blush, too, completely embarrassed, even though it is just the two of you.

~

Tecchou

- He, too, remains motionless for quite some time, with a neutral expression. 

- Very down-to-earth, he simply points out (obviously) that he is not your father...

- As if you did not know. At least he does not start laughing, like some...

~

Fukuzawa

- I am pretty sure this has already happened to some people (like Ranpo, for instance), so it is not Fukuzawa who is going to make fun of you, that's for sure.

- It is not even certain that he will correct you, used as he is to being called dad by the members of his Agency.

~

Oda 

- He is probably already used to being called dad by the orphans he has taken in, is he not?

- Well, sure, he will sit there for a while and do nothing, but at least he will not be making fun of you, HIM.

- Anyway... He is the ultimate manga dad, is he not?

~ 

Fyodor 

- All right, then. If you are all alone, there is a good chance you will be able to make up for the disaster.

- Because, if Nikolai or someone else of the same ilk is present, you can be sure that your social life is ruined for good.

- As for Fyodor, I think he will simply be astonished, then shake his head with a small smile (which does not bode well, though...).

[jackiepackiee]

not really specific but in your opinion, what are chuuya and ranpo's types?~

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓅𝑜’𝓈 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒

𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒

Ranpo

Someone THE OPPOSITE OF HIM. Ranpo needs someone who is emotionally smart. He’s a genius at crime and human behavior, so a partner who can live the city life and understand to sympathize with others is a must. He is aware of his fault at empathy, so a partner to help him learn is a great influence. He’s a bit selfish with snacks, so if they hate sweets it’s okay! More for him. Another must is a good relationship with Fukuzawa. He needs his father figures approval of a lover. It would also be great for him to be with someone with a calmer energy. He is a lot, so he would like a partner who can tell him when to cool it down. In a more domestic style, he likes the type who enjoys staying in. Cuddles in bed, dinner at a table, the sappy stuff he likes.

A few bonus qualities!

Baker / sweets maker

Has a cat!

Likes to nap often

Calm

Motivated (he’s lazy)

Chuuya

Someone JUST AS LOYAL!! I would say Chuuya is a lover, and he isn’t concerned with looks. He has been surrounded by the chance to have the most attractive men and woman with his money and power, but he doesn’t prefer the socialite type. He wants someone that’s like home. Warm and cozy, a comfortable presence to be around. I don’t mean especially motherly or nurturing, but more a sense of self and maturity that has an understanding and sympathy. Someone who MUST be able to deal with the danger of his life without being too afraid. Also, someone that can have fun. Chuuya is a child at heart, and needs someone to have fun with. Watching silly romance movies, trying recipes online just to end up with flour all over his face. He wants a partner to laugh with.

A few bonus qualities!

Likes/has a dogs

Occasional wine enjoyer

Has self defense training (makes him reassured for his partners safety)

Has a good reading voice since he enjoys being read novels while in his office doing boring work

Willing to wear matching outfits (stylist, not like twin by same color palettes and style)

[mysticpearl]

SHE'S GOT EVERYTHING THAT I DON'T HAVE

"and she's all i wanna be, all i wanna be so bad"

or, in other words, your spouse catches you shittalking your body in your mirror, comparing yourself to someone who poked fun at you earlier.

fandoms - bungou stray dogs, honkai: star rail, genshin impact

hi guys. nobody told me how much highschool would drain u to the fuckin core. thats fine i'm writing now atleast sry this is probably so shit i'm so tired and i'm listening to this album on repeat ughhhhhhh anyways enjoy! also this is opinion based and may be a little bit biased/ooc

fem reader (boobs mentioned, not in a sexual way), uhhh just angst with a little fluff at the end

men that don't know what to do when he hears your self-deprecating comments from the other room. he got home early, and was going to surprise you, a gorgeous bouqet of roses in the hand behind his back. his smile faded, his excitement turned into a pain in his heart. you were comparing yourself to another woman that had talked smack about your appearance earlier in the day.

he saw it all unfold as soon as he lightly walked from the front door to your shared bedroom. he didn't want to let you know of his presence- no, not yet. he wanted to see how far you'd take your words, and to get a better grasp of what was really going on.

the scene in front of him was heartbreaking; you were standing nearly completely naked in front of the full lengthed mirror in the corner of the room, your back nearly turned to the door, but not enough to see him in the mirror behind you unless you find a certain angle. you were running your hands over your chest, saying something about them being "too big" and "not fitting of your body type."

he figured he should intervene soon. he didn't want you talking about yourself like this, especially when he's right behind you, and could do something about it.

he doesn't know what to say, which is why he's not stepping in right away.

he waits for you to turn around, a gasp leaving your mouth and the look on your face one of pure horror. you didn't know what to say either, besides a small little

"did you hear all of that...?"

he nods, sadness evident on his gorgeous face. you could only but fall on the floor, right in front of the mirror, and cry. you were embarrassed, nervous about how much he saw and heard. you thought he'd be mad, he'd run away, he'd agree with you, but instead he falls to his knees and hugs you tight.

he let you cry it out on his shoulder, whispering every single thing he loved about you and your appearance, hoping to make you feel even a little bit better about yourself. he repeated "i love you" and "you're gorgeous the way you are, baby."

after about a half hour, you'd calm down, and he'd let go of the hug, bringing you up onto the bed and cuddling with you there. he doesn't want to push you to talk it out, not now at least. he's tired, you're tired, and you're in the wrong mental space right now. he knows that, and tries to hum a small tune to put you to sleep.

- KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, kamisato ayato, albedo, diluc, boothill, AVENTURINE, jiaoqiu, chuuya, dazai, ranpo

[togegiri]

✎ᝰ ❛ PORT MAFIA'S GUIDE TO BE A HOUSEHUSBAND! ❜ — dazai osamu. chuuya nakahara. akutagawa ryunosuke.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ content. A simple guide on being a good househusband created by the port mafia members or should I say ex-port mafia member.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. tooth rottening fluff. there maybe some grammar mistakes. suggestive in dazai's parts. ( 3.5k words. )

note. I had fun writing this I hope you all will like it!

— THE SPOILING TYPE. 太宰 治 | dazai osamu.

[ “welcome home my darling~ lookie look, I didn't burn down the kitchen! our neighbor lent us her recipe for the castella cake you like, hehe aren't you proud of me? don't I deserve a reward, like a kiss! c’mon just a little for being a great husband for you~” ] 

You two met when you saw him terribly injured due to one of his missions. You first tried to stop his wounds from bleeding but the brunette haired man stopped you glaring and interrogating on what you were doing to him. You, being an honest citizen, said you wanted to help him. Reluctantly he let you help him, still suspicious of you. 

Though his suspicion stopped once you stopped his bleeding and helped him tend to his injuries. He's grateful for that and because of this he formed a friendship with you even though it was small. Due to this small interactions and many more in the past years you two have become a loving husband and lover. He still remembers the day you two met. 

He remembers it was a dark night yet in his words, an angel came and saved him. Exaggerating the events that has followed making you chuckle awkwardly everytime a stranger asked as they are met with this lovesick buffoons rambling about how amazing their lover is. 

After a few months of being married you worry about his job in the port mafia thus leading him to quit his job and become a full time husband for your sake. Living in a small apartment, being with you almost 24/7 and a shining ring in his ring finger that indicates you two will be together till death do you two apart made him the happiest man there is. 

Although he's good at loving you unconditionally, spoiling you with his kisses, and making you laugh through your everyday life, he's quite a terrible cook. You still remember the time he almost burned down the kitchen for trying to cook a curry. Also the time he accidentally burned himself. 

“Ouch ouch ouch!” the curly haired male said, touching his small burnt hand. You looked at him in worry as his eyes formed small tears in the corner, “oh, osamu I told you it was hot,” you scolded him as he pouted at this. “I'm sorry,” he sulked, making you chuckle, “cmon put your hand on the water,” he does as you were told.

“ne ne since I injured myself don't I get a kiss to make it feel better~”

“don't tell me you purposely did that just to get a kiss,”

“I could never do that~” 

He put a innocent front making giggle at his silliness, “still a no,” 

“Oh cmoooon~” 

What a whiny husband you have. 

Although sometimes he purposely injures himself just for you to kiss him better. In other chores he's quite good at, sweeping, wiping the windows, killing a cockroach, and many more. He especially loves it when its shopping day or your day offs because he get to have more time with his darling lover. 

Whenever you two are shopping together he already has a coupon for everything you buy. Solely because while you are out at your job he's out in the store looking for coupons or he's talking to your neighbors.

Your neighbors quite love your husband as they tell you how lucky you are for having a loving and handsome husband and a gentleman to boot too. He always talks to them like a gossipy housewife knowing all the tea in the neighborhood because of that.

Due to having good relationships with the neighbors. Everytime he asks for help on something such as cooking, or chores. A Lot of people are glad to help him or aid him with his problem. He also likes to talk to you about any recent gossip in the neighborhood. He always gets the bath ready whenever its almost time to get home. 

He will be pouty and sulky if you don't get home in time like you usually do. Running ahead to you once he hears the key clanking and hugging you tightly. You chuckle at this, apologizing to him for working a little bit late. 

“Sorry, I had to work a little bit late,” you awkwardly hugged him back as he hugged you tightly. “Sorry isn't enough you know, I missed you,” osamu nuzzled onto him inhaling your scent as you pat his head.

“I'm sorry,” you patted his head as he smiled, “you have to pay for it in bed tonight so get ready~” 

“w- wait osamu I still have work tomorrow,” 

“Sounds like a you problem~” he smiled cheekily at you as he peppered your face with kisses. You felt your whole face hot as you sigh at this, “fine,” he giggled cheekily. 

He loves spoiling you with food or anything particularly. Because of him being an ex-mafia he has enough money to cost him for life. He could've easily bought a mansion for you but he quite likes the small apartment you two live in. 

Whenever he's out shopping on his own he loves to buy the pretty clothes, or accessories his lover would like. He would secretly put all the gifts in your closet or anywhere you would first see it. He then would go on a rant about how you would look pretty on it once you ask what it is for. 

He loves making you bento's although some of his cooking sometimes looked half burnt or not even cooked well yet. Yet you still eat because it's from your husband. 

He will worship the ground you walk on and will do as you ask. He's like a lovesick puppy following you. His love for you will never falter so just come home and be in his arms where he will give you all his love, make you laugh, and feed you warm food even though it's half bad he hopes you'll like it. Afterall to be a househusband is to be able to make your lover smile and not make them cry a single tear. That is dazai osamu's motto.

His very own way of being a good househusband. 

“Welcome home darling~ would you like dinner? bath? or me~” He greeted you with a smile as you chuckle at this, the brunette male giggling as he saw you, “I made dinner and also baked castella its kinda half burnt though, you dont mind right,” 

“if it's from my husband I don't mind,” you said kissing his cheek, the ex mafia smiled at this. “Good! cmon cmon lets eat, I bet your starving my dear,”

— THE WORRYWART TYPE. 中原中也 | nakahara chuya.

[ “Why did you come home 10 minutes late? Nevermind that, are you hurt? Does your shoulder hurt, your back? want a message, or do you wanna go bath first? or do you wanna eat dinner first? I bought pudding for dessert, worried? of course I'm worried jeez, just go get a bath you stink,” ] 

The classic worrywart type, he worries about every move he does and every move you make, making you sigh in defeat at your husband. The two of you met as cliché as any shoujo manga, under a rainy day and seeing him passed out and injured. Being a good citizen you brought him to your home and tended him. Once he woke up he seemed to have a fever prolonging his stay at your house. Delirious due to his fever he seeked the warmth of your hands. The gentle fleeting touches you give him those days of his illness. 

The day he became not so delirious he became flustered at his past actions saying in a forceful tone to forget about those events. Without knowing it, you two became friends, then lovers, to a happily married couple. Figuring his job is filled with too much violence that may lead you to getting used by his enemies. He simply quit and became a full time househusband in your dainty little home. 

He gives you everything he thinks is best, that's the reason why you two have diamond rings, his love for you is like a diamond, never breaking and always shining. Whenever he feels lonely he kisses the ring placed on his ring sighing as he stops himself from calling you afraid that he'll bother you mid work.

He's quite the best cook too. He makes those perfect bento, neatly done and cooked right by yours truly. He also made those cute character bento like my melody and many more. Once he hears from you that you loved it he heart will swell from pride as he gives you a cocky smirk and the saying, “of course it is good, I'm your husband that means nothing but the best should be given to you.” 

He's quite strict at making your bento, the kind of husband who will make a good diet of your bento. He also memorized all your favorite desserts, food, vegetables, fruit, and what scent you like many more too. He wants the best of the best for you so he'll go all out for it. 

Even if he hides it, he does miss you every time you have to leave for work. Putting on a strong front which you can easily see as he hurries you to leave for work already.

“Did you bring your umbrella? the news said it'll rain you know,” the ginger haired male said as he stood near the door as you put on your shoes, “Yes I did,” he nodded at this.

“What about your bento? Do you have it?” you chuckle at his questions, “Yes I do,” he furrowed his brows seeing your tie crooked, “your tie is crooked wait a minute,” he goes closer to you fixing it loosening it a bit. 

“There, jeez your hair is still messy too,” he sighs at this taking a comb thats hidden in his pocket combing your hair, “there, now go before you get late,” you giggle at him as you began to step near the door as he then took your wrist. Stopping you as he forced you to look back at him kissing you in the lips softly. This caught you by surprise as he took off his lips to your own.

“Have a safe trip,” he says, a small blush coating his cheeks making you smile at him, “Thank you darling.” 

Although he's quite a worrywart and always on you about everything. He has his soft sides too. How he shamelessly shows you off around the neighborhood by his words. At first he was quite cold to them, not speaking a single word only giving them a few answers if they asked him to. 

Although when they started asking questions for his lover he became a little bit ecstatic talking to them showing off how amazing their lover is. Slowly everyone in the neighborhood grew to like him because of this. The auntie's around your simple house were always glad to help you two out on anything. Although you were more on the chattier side your husband was more on the silent side speaking when spoken to. 

He prefers making things for you to show his appreciation. While he does like spoiling you with his riches. He loves it when he,  the things that make you happy. Thus the reason why he took crocheting as a hobby. 

Like dazai, he loves it when it's the weekend because it means your day off and that means he gets to spend more time with you. Which always consists of you two baking, you learning how to crochet to get closer to your husband. You are making him learn more about your hobbies. 

He loves physical affection although quite a tsundere when he's the one asking for it thus him leading to be more on the acts of service type of guy. 

“No that's not how you do it,” you stopped your movements as chuuya pointed out the wrong way you crochet. He goes closer to you as he smiles showing you how it goes, “its like this,” you nodded your head.

“I see, thank you chuuya,” he smiles blushing a little, “welcome and..uhh..d- dont I deserve a reward for that?” at his bold words your eyes widen smiling as you gave him a kiss in the cheek making him huff in pride. 

He's very good at giving you messages, that's why he likes doing them. He loves it when there is a 50% off sale while he is rich from his former job. Nothing beats the feeling of having a 50% off. 

He's a soft man at heart he just builds cold walls that may take time to burn down. Thus the reason why he worries for you a lot. Being a househusband means ensuring your health and keeping you comfortable in this simple life of husband and lover of yours. That is Nakahara Chuuya's motto on being your house husband.

“I'm hooomeee,” you announced feeling drowsy and tired as chuuya walked towards the door looking at you worried, “welcome home, is everything okay? Do you want a massage? Does anything hurt?” 

You smile at him seeing his usual worrywart and dotting self to you, “yeah, I'm fine just tired from work, my shoulder hurts a little bit though,” he smiles, “cmon lets go dinners ready and your bath is ready too, I'll massage you once your done with your bath.”

“your the best,”

“hmp, I know that,” he huffs as you chuckle, “I love you,” 

“I love you too.”

— THE PROTECTIVE TYPE. 芥川 龍之介 | akutagwa ryunosuke.

[ “Did you take overtime again? How many times have I told you to not do that? Do I have to come to work and punch those scumbags to not make you work too much? hmp! its not violence it's about just teaching them a lesson,” ] 

Another classic nagging wife-like of a husband. The first time you two met was a rocky start with him trying to kill you solely because you were tending his injuries you hated how bratty he was saying he doesn't need any help but ended up passing out in your arms. You sigh at his stubbornness and tend to him for the past few days he was unconscious. You knew he was a mafia due to his all black get up and bloody clothes. 

Yet helped him anyways because you just wanted to help him, it took time for him to open up and slowly burn down his tough walls. At Least 3 months of you two being ‘acquaintances’ to becoming ‘friends’ you chuckled at the times he was being cold to you. 

It took a lot of time till you two became lovers to the now husband and lover. Happily married and a small home in a small neighborhood. He's an alright cook, he's not good at it but he takes his time to learn things on cooking via cooking lessons by the neighborhood auntie's who graciously lend him a hand. 

He's popular with them because of how they thought he was an adorable husband for you. Although quite cold towards them the auntie's doesn't mind as they still coo at him. To be frank he didn't know how to be a good househusband.

He sucks at cooking, cleaning, and even being affectionate to you was a struggle for him. Though you didn't mind that, you let him learn at his own pace. Going to the neighborhood asking what laundry detergent is good for this specific fabric, how to iron clothes correctly, and many more.

“F- fuck… not again,” the raven haired male said furrowing his brows as he accidentally put too much force on breaking the egg that the shells wad put on the egg. He sighs as he takes another egg, breaking it not too hard, not too gentle, his eyes sparkle as he did it perfectly. 

“There,” he sighs as you look behind him, smiling and admiring your husband. He's so cute. Maybe you should give him something for always doing his best. 

The reason he quit being in the port mafia was because you like dazai and chuuya. He doesn't want to see you hurt and he especially doesn't want to see you being all worried and teary eyed to him. 

He hates messes, absolutely hates them and bugs too. He almost wrecked the whole house because he used his ability to kill a single cockroach who was flying and dodging his everymove. He was almost as his wits end at the single roach. 

While he has a lot of money due to being an exmafia he refuses to buy expensive ass vegetables and fruits that people overpriced in the mall. Every Time he's grocery shopping he's glaring at any overpriced vegetable, seasonings, etc. he lays his eyes upon. 

He doesn't like grocery shopping solely because he hates picking on which is far more good to have. This cabbage is nice but also this one too. Which should he choose? He always ends up thinking like that which makes him irritated. 

He furrow his brows looking at the two carrots, one in his right hand, seemingly with good color and quality, while the other is far more bigger and good quality. He glares at the carrots in his hands as the other people who feel his strong and intimidating aura.

Not to mention a man wearing all black with an apron and with his bitch face people start to back away in the vegetable aisle. 

Some people also misunderstand him there. How he was asking for the cornstarch flour but forgot what it was called asking the staff for the ‘white powder stuff' and the staff thinking it was cocaine. Thus the many reasons he hates grocery shopping. 

Just like Chuuya he is strict about your diet, he will go above and beyond for your bento's meals making sure everything is healthy there. He kind off has a grudge for electronic devices used for cleaning, like those small bots used for sweeping. 

When you bought that you swore he was about to start war on an inanimate object. He prefers cleaning in the old fashion way saying it's much cheaper and plus he cleans very good due to the neighbors teaching him about the many ways to clean your house. 

Speaking of cleaning because of the cleaning lessons the auntie's taught him in the neighborhood. He became a professional. Everytime you come home you swear your whole house was sparkling due to how clean it is. 

“Oh wow! you really outdone yourself dear,” you said in awe as you look at your spotless house making him huff in pride, “ of course, anyway go get a bath, dinners almost ready,” you nodded your head at his words as he forms a small smile at this. 

He hates it when you work overtime solely because he misses you and also hates it when you overwork yourself. 'If your work ends at 6:00 it ends at 6:00 okay? don't take overtime.' he says glaring at you, sending you off to work making you sweat drop at it. 

He spoils you with gifts while he was out shopping on his own. Passing by stalls and seeing things you might like and giving them to you directly without much of a word. He sucks at making things or being affectionate to you so he hopes these gifts will show how much he loves you. (Which is always expensive by the way, like diamond necklaces, Gucci bags, Prada things and many more.)

He sometimes calls you on work to see if you're okay and if you're doing alright, he can't help but worry for your safety and overall well-being. 

He once intimidated a coworker of yours because they were the sole reason you came home late for a whole week. He's awkward at it but he always tries his best to kiss you, hug you, and hold your hand. He still feels embarrassed for such things but he just needs time to get used to it. 

As for his motto, he truly doesn't know, he just wants to see you happy with him. Smiling only at him and being with him only. Does that count as a motto?

“You have everything you need right?” he asks standing near the door as you nodded your head, “of course,” he nodded, his eyes gazing away from you then back at you. 

You looked at him in confusion tilting your head to the side. As he took a step near you and closing the gap between you two. As his lips got in contact with your cheek. 

“Have a safe trip,” 

You smile at him, “thank you dear, I will,” 

“And don't take overtime got it?”

“Haha! I will not, see you,”

He huffs in pride, the color red coating his face. 

'I can't believe I kissed them like that,' thoughts of a man who has been married to you for years. 

[nakahras]

𓇼 ˖° dimples • multi character

synopsis • you’re surrounded by stupid men with cute dimples, it’s a tragedy

warnings • all: lower case intentional, fem!reader • chuuya’s: intoxication (alcohol), slight spoilers for stormbringer

wc • 4.4k

a/n • writing for characters other than chuuya and dazai (even tho i snuck both of them in there 💀) was refreshing. i had sm fun with all of these

ada: kunikida (wc 767)

it’s been almost eight hours of torture and you’re not even close to being finished with the mountain of work this stupid sack of bandages and bones has let pile up. it’s been especially bad this month, he usually tries to keep up the first week or so but from the looks of it, with this month that wasn’t the case. the worst part of it all? you don’t even get to leave the office until the brunette has all of his backed up work completed and at the rate you’re going you’ll both be here for the rest of the week. you wish you were exaggerating but you don’t think you are. last month atsushi was stuck in the office for a full 32 hours. the poor boy didn’t speak to dazai for almost a week after that, having had his fill for a lifetime.

your eye is twitching and your head is throbbing. you’ve been stuck next to dazai for almost eight whole hours due to having literally drawn the short straw. each month all the detectives, excluding ranpo since he’s just as bad, draw straws to help dazai catch up on his neglected paperwork and unfortunately this month was your turn. 

you let out another long sigh, at this rate you’ll pass out from the breathing exercises before you finish all of this work. your glasses are propped low on your nose, index finger and thumb pinching the bridge of it in irritation. dazai is currently humming his double suicide song and leaning dangerously far back in his desk chair. 

just as an idea stampedes across your mind, kunikida, not even looking up from his laptop, speaks up. “if you keep leaning back in that chair, you rock-for-brains, you’re going to fall and hit your head. god knows you don’t need to take any more damage to that screwy brain of yours.”

you can’t help but to let out a snort as you look over to see obvious offense on the brunette's face. it’s rare that kunikida’s outlandish comments towards dazai surprise you anymore, but it’s almost as if the blonde had read your mind. you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling further when dazai gives you an accusatory glance before directing his attention back to the senior detective.

“awww are you worried about me, kunikida-kun? that’s so sweet of you. i’m not clumsy enough to fall from leaning back in my chair like this though. i’ve mastered the art!” as if to demonstrate, dazai leans way back, far more dangerously than he had previous to this conversation. 

without thinking you lean over and push on dazai’s chair, knowing the only result being him tumbling to the floor. “oh, have you now.”

in the split second before his demise, the brunette looks at you with an expression of utter betrayal. it’s like it happens in slow motion, you watch the betrayal flash into horror and then finally acceptance settles in his features as the back of his chair hits the ground and dazai clashes with the floor. a loud crash resounds across the office and everyone is too stunned to move let alone make a noise. not even a moment later dazai is groaning and lets out a pathetic whine. 

before he can open his mouth to complain verbally you’re both startle by a loud chortle coming from behind you. your eyes widen at the foreign noise falling from the usually stoic or angry blonde. you watch in wonder as his lips are stretched into a rare smile and his flushed cheeks display deep crevices. they’re dimples, you’ve never seen kunikida smile this widely, so you’ve never noticed them until now. something in your stomach flutters at the sight and you can’t help but to smile at him in astonishment. 

when kunikida settles down, clutching his stomach, he’s still smiling as he removes his glasses and wipes the tears from his eyes. as he places the metal frames back on his face his gaze seeks you out and when it settles on you his face is one of shock to find you already staring at him in amazement. you watch him closely, scrutinizing his expressions to see if you really never noticed the signs of dimples decorating his cheeks before. 

kunikida clears his throat awkwardly and composes himself. “what is it?”

you let out an airy laugh and shake your head while offering him a reassuring smile. “it’s nothing really…i just never noticed before, kunikida, but you have dimples. you should smile more often, they suit you.”

pm: chuuya (wc: 1.1k)

you hardly ever drink, if at all. the most you’ll have in a sitting is a glass of whatever’s offered to you. you usually sip at it slowly, nursing that one drink for the rest of the night. 

…but tonight…

tonight is certainly different. you’re celebrating the close defeat of fyodor and the decay of angels with the armed detective agency of all people. the surprising collaboration had bonded so many of your people together that it was only right to celebrate as one. the defeat was, after all, all of yours. 

despite the celebratory mood, you currently find yourself in a predicament. as one of the port mafia’s physicians it’s easy to fly under the radar at an event much like this one, but the ada’s doctor took a special liking to you and has been feeding you shot after shot of saki to shoot with her. at this rate, you won’t even be able to see straight enough to hook yourself up to an iv before passing out after this. you don’t even want to know what kind of headache you’ll have in the morning if you can’t stay hydrated.

you need to find a reason to excuse yourself before you’re roped into taking your sixth shot of the night. 

you scan the vicinity, everything blurring at the edges. your eyes zero in on the one person you’ve actually wanted to speak to all night. you haven’t seen him since he came back from europe. you missed him. the thought makes you cringe internally at the involuntary thought. you wonder how much you look like a love sick puppy because suddenly yosano is leaning in and whispering, very indiscreetly might you add.

“oho! am i keeping you from a special someone? go on, i can find another drinking buddy…” the woman doesn’t even give you a chance before she’s waving the bottle of saki and zeroing in on the blonde with glasses whose name you never bothered to learn. “kunikida! come here!”

you take a breath and try your best not to stumble over to where the ginger is observing something to his left, clearly amused. when you get about 3 meters from him, his head snaps over to you and his small smile stretches into a bigger fond one. his eyes soften and he reaches out to steady you.

god, you almost forgot how truly gorgeous this man is.

“looks like you had too much fun with the agency’s doctor there.” the second his smile widens you’re a goner, your mind becomes even more foggy and your legs wobbly.

you smile proudly at chuuya and you think you must look ridiculous because he lets out a chuckle that puts his single dimple on full display. “were you keeping tabs on me, chuuya nakahara?”

your words are a little slurred, even though it’s not very noticeable, they still come out more jumbled than you previously thought they would. if you had the decency you’d flinch at it but your inhibitions are a little scarce right now. you don’t even have the decency to feel embarrassed. 

what’s even worse is chuuya catches the way your eyes scan his figure, gaze lingering on features that should be left for a private setting. you’re absolutely shameless and you’re not even that inebriated. your ogling is put to an end when your eyes meet his own again. his grin wide and smug. 

once again, you’re consumed by how stunning he is.

“i was…been waiting all night for that doctor to leave you alone. it’s been a while, doll. how’ve you been?” chuuya reaches out to straighten your hair by tucking your loose strands behind your hair, you don’t miss the way he lets his hand linger before pulling away and letting his arm drop back to his side.

you hum contentedly and shrug. “i’ve been overworked and worried. but…i’m glad it’s finally over and you’re back. i’m glad you’re safe.”

trying to change the subject, you hone in on the small indent that’s settled on his face from smiling so much and chuuya gives you a confused look but he doesn’t question you just yet. 

“y’know, you only have one dimple and i think,” you reach up and poke at the small crater in his cheek. “it’s the cutest thing ever.”

a fit of giggles falls from your lips and chuuya swears that somehow between when you walked over and now you had time to sneak in stealing his heart. something in his stomach flutters and his hands twitch, begging to hold onto you. chuuya tilts his head back, effectively making your hand fall from his face and downs the rest of his wine.

you watch in amusement, enjoying the way your words have clearly affected him. maybe drinking as much as you did wasn’t such a bad idea after all. you never would have said something like that to the world’s strongest ability user otherwise. you’ve harbored affection for the ginger since doc, your mentor, was still alive. you can practically hear albatross in your ear, teasing you for your, at the time, small crush. 

you’re brought out of your melancholy thoughts when chuuya’s gloved hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you into him. you stumble and fall into the gravity manipulator. you let out a noise of complaint, ready to voice your qualms but it all dies on your tongue as it goes dry when you notice the tantalizing look on chuuya’s face.

“you’re callin’ me cute? you?” chuuya leans in, he’s so close you can smell the faint scent of wine and cigarettes on his breath.

you swallow thickly and look away, face now flushed from more than just the alcohol. “what d’you mean by that…”

the ginger leans in impossibly closer, his lips now brushing yours but before he can even say anything, an airy and teasing voice is calling out for the executive. 

“chuuya! i’ve been looking all over for you, don’t tell me you were avoiding me? and here i thought we had patched things up back at the prison.”

chuuya’s brown eye twitches as his head turns to find a tall brunette with a simpering smile. it takes you a moment but you realize this is someone you know, someone who you haven’t seen or heard from since you were 18, dazai osamu. you aren’t exactly in the mood for a reunion, your face still flushing from what just transpired between you and the executive.

you try to escape but chuuya’s grip on your wrist only tightens. a clear nonverbal for you to stay put. despite suddenly feeling stone cold sober, you have a sneaky feeling you’re still going to be missing that iv tonight.

guild: mark twain (wc: 738)

this standstill is agonizing, you’re so bored. you’ve been stuck on the moby dick for what seems like ages and yet you still haven’t been given an assignment by francis. you feel useless, like you’ve just been twiddling your thumbs — hell, even poe has had a role to play in all of this. 

it’s so incredibly frustrating.

you sit on the floor of the sunroom, you thought basking in the sunlight might help your mood. you thought wrong. you’ve been sulking for the last hour, maybe longer, just huffing and puffing as if someone was there. you let out another sigh and dramatically flop to the ground and onto your back as you hear someone approaching. 

you look up to find a pair of sandal clad feet far too close to your face for comfort. you grimace and quickly sit back up to get away from the offending appendages. you previously had wanted some company, at least then it would be less agonizing. but you’re filled with dread when you decide your mood is far too sour to be entertaining anyone at the moment. 

you glare at the ginger looming over you.

“get those dogs away from me.” you cross your legs and your face twists further in annoyance when you’re met with an amused expression.

a chuckle falls from his lips as he plops himself on the floor next to you. “someone’s in a cheery mood today.”

you roll your eyes and contemplate ignoring the young man altogether. of course you’re in a shit mood, you’re bored, you’ve been bored since you got to japan. you’re not even allowed to explore the area. you tried sneaking out but that damn priest caught you and tattled. you almost lose your temper just thinking about it.

“hey,” your internal rage is halted by mark trying to capture your attention. “where’d ya go just now?”

you let out a groan and flop back onto the floor. usually mark has a knack for fishing you out of your own thoughts but you don’t think even he can help today. you’d asked permission again to go explore and once again francis denied you. you feel like a bird, caged in, wings clipped so you’re unable to fly. being cooped up like this is driving you insane and you think mark can sense it because he stops pressing and lays down with you. 

you both lay in silence for a bit and your tense muscles finally begin to relax. maybe this wasn’t so bad, basking in the sun alone was sad, but having someone to do it with…it’s nice. you’ve suddenly forgotten why you were so worked up.

the peaceful moment only lasts a few moments. a familiar and mischievous voice rings close to your ear and you start. “he’s been worried about ya, y’know?”

“tom?!” both you and the ginger cry out in unison.

you sit up and look over at mark incredulously. he’s never accidentally activated the boys before, his control always being pretty impressive actually. your lips part slightly as you notice the embarrassed pout that stretches his lips down. the frown bringing out the dimples on his cheeks, making them far more apparent than they are when he smiles. 

it takes a moment but tom’s words sink in, when they do you let out a snort that has mark giving you a mortified look. tom is perched on your shoulder, snickering along with you. mark glares at the small apparition and releases his ability cutting off his snickering. 

you look over to mark with a smug grin. “so, you’ve been worried about me, huh?”

you let out a chuckle as the ginger groans. suddenly your sour mood melts away and you’re left with a sweet aftertaste. your grin is wide and reaches your eyes, making them crinkle at the edges. your chest feels lighter, a weight that’s been sitting in your rib cage since departing the states finally being relieved and you have mark twain to thank for that. you watch as his frown stays clearly plastered on his features. you shake your head at him.

“ah, c’mon, mark. y’know i’m only teasing you. although i should do it more often, that frown brings out those adorable dimples of yours even more than a smile does…”

mark offers you an offended side eye but he can’t hide the blush that dusts the apple of his cheeks at your words.

hunting dogs: tachihara (wc 1k) 

“tecchou could be charming… if it weren’t for his strange…quirks.” you snicker at jouno’s quip, never missing the chance to insult the brunette. 

you hum, a smirk stretching at your lips. “okay, mr. ‘i like to piss people off for fun’, you’re just as bad.”

the blind man turns his head towards your voice and scowls in your direction. your smile widens, pleased with ticking him off. playing his game better than him is always so exhilarating. jouno always gives you some of the best reactions . 

your captain belts out a hearty laugh. the older man himself had started this conversation. apparently he’d been shot down and came into your meeting room with his ears drooped and tail between his legs. charm. that is the subject at hand, which of you have the most charm. it started with fukuchi insisting on his “boyish charm” despite his age. the man is clearly in denial but trying to convince him of that is pointless, you would know, you’ve tried. 

jouno hisses, “as if you’re any better.”

“i am. why do you think i’m the member fukuchi sends out for negotiations, my dear jouno?” you snicker when the pale man turns his nose up at you and clicks his tongue, knowing you’d won.

it’s been a while since all of you had been summoned together. despite the bickering you’re excited to see your colleagues altogether in one room. you’re especially giddy to see a certain redhead who’s been undercover with the port mafia for almost 2 years now. you’ve missed 2 of his birthdays, he must look older now. you wonder just how much the young man has grown since the last time you saw him — as a boy. you were still young too, you still are, younger than him at the very least. not by much of course but it’s enough to make you the second youngest member of the hunting dogs. 

the last time you saw tachihara, the two of you fought. you begged him, pleaded with him to not take the assignment with the port mafia. it was dangerous and you knew about his personal grudge against its leader. but he didn’t listen, he made a promise to you, though. he promised to come back to you in one piece. 

you impatiently wait to see if he kept his promise. 

you’re pulled out of your thoughts by fukuchi. “ah, we almost forgot about the other two. what do you think of teruko.”

you and jouno share a look. teruko has never been the most agreeable…and that’s putting it lightly. her attitude is arrogant at best. sure, when she loves, she loves with her entire being but that’s a rare instance and it takes time to get there with the girl.

“why don’t we skip over her and move on to tachihara…” jouno looks almost pained at having to avoid the topic altogether.

luckily you’re both saved by the meeting room door opening and 3 other figures walking in. you sit up straight, watching as tecchou strides in first. your breath hitches when a smaller figure walks in with another larger one. you can feel the look jouno is casting your way, knowing well he felt the way your heartbeat began to race, the way your breath caught in your throat, and the way you tremble with nerves. 

you were right. he does look older, but most importantly he still looks just as handsome. maybe even more so than before. you also notice he’s grown into his uniform, unlike the baggy uniform he wore the last time you saw him, this one fits him perfectly.

instead of greeting everyone else (you suppose this wasn’t the first meeting he’s had with the rest since infiltrating the port mafia) tachihara dives right into the conversation you were having previously.

“what about me?”

you don’t miss the way the ginger’s eyes scan the room and light up the second they meet your own and you don’t miss the way he makes a beeline for the empty seat next to you. “our captain here, believes that he still has a boyish charm about him…”

“...ah…uh huh… so old age has made the geezer delusional then?” tachihara grins proudly at you, a dimpled smile on full display, as he claims the empty seat as his own.

you let out a bubbly giggle, unable to contain yourself and nod. “i’m afraid so!”

“hey!” the older man whines in a way that’s reminiscent of teruko. “i am not old.”

jouno and tecchou chime in while teruko and your captain argue against why you’re all wrong. you watch them all with a fond smile and a warmth in your chest. you’ve missed this, missed them all. having michizo next to you made it all feel complete, like you’re whole again.

the ginger leans in cautiously, watching for any hesitation on your part, but he won’t find any. “what about you? what do you think? am i charming?”

you study his face for a moment, all the previously soft edges of his face have smoothed out, only leaving sharp features. even his eyes are far more calculating than they were before he left. one thing that hasn’t changed though, his boyish smile. the indents in his cheeks give way to his young age. for once you're happy to see that some things never change. 

apparently, your conversation wasn’t a private one as fukuchi chimes in. “it pains me to say but you have the most boyish charm out of all of us, even greater than mine - but only by a little.”

you chuckle at the stubborn man’s words and tachihara follows suit. the soft rumbled noise he makes is deeper and that’s when you realize, it’s not just his laugh that’s gotten deeper — his voice has a certain gruffness it didn’t have before. it’s subtle but it’s soothing, much like a lullaby.

you wink at the ginger and respond in a teasing tone, “fukuchi is right, tachihara, your boyish charm could get you out of all sorts of trouble. it’s definitely those cute dimples of yours.” 

doa: nikolai (wc: 837)

you don’t even remember what you just said. or where you are. or what you two are even doing here. all you know is that nikolai is sitting in front of you laughing like a madman. it’s not one of his usual forced cackles, no, this one is possibly the first genuine laugh you’ve seen from him. his real laugh is far lighter than the crackled and loud noises that slip past his lips when he plays his little games. you find yourself trying to memorize the sound, much preferring this laugh to the previously mentioned one.

his face is relaxed too. the twisted grin he usually wears has melted away into a bright smile that reaches his cheeks, making the most stunning little indents in them. nikolai truly is gorgeous and you find yourself thinking he’s even more beautiful when he lets himself relax. his uncovered eye sparkles as he wipes away the tears that built up from his fit of laughter. 

you’ve always thought that nikolai himself is just beautiful in general but when he’s like this? you can’t help but to stare.

and of course, the clown notices. “whatcha staring at, chickadee?” 

it’s teasing, a lilt in his voice that’s just a little too cheery. your attention, which was previously zeroed in on nikolai’s isolated features, focuses out and onto him as a whole. his head is tilted to the side, staring at you curiously.

you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fond smile that’s plastered on your face. you gather your bearings and turn that smile into a frown, crossing your arms across your chest, you stubbornly look away. you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“nothing.” your voice comes out deadpanned. 

nikolai prances his way over to you, standing on his toes and leaning in. you swear he has no sense of personal space, you doubt he even knows the meaning of it. your lips immediately curl up in discomfort and you lean away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible without actually stepping back. your attempts are futile, though, his tall stature and freakishly good balance allows him to follow you. 

the white haired clown lets out a snort. “ah, come on, that answer’s no fun!”

“it wasn’t s’posed to be, gogol.” your expression is uninterested but internally you aren’t as confident in your ability to keep your composure. 

nikolai dramatically pouts at you and straightens back up, doing a little twirl that you think is quite ridiculous. but that’s nikolai, ridiculous and unabashed. you straighten up too and watch him wearily. his sheer amount of energy seems to drain your own, sucking the life out of you the longer you’re around him. his eccentricity is something that you’re still not accustomed to.

nikolai perks up and you almost wince knowing you’re not going to like whatever thought it is that just lit him up like a lightbulb. 

“let’s play a game then!” you can’t help the way you eye him suspiciously. “we each tell the other our favorite things about the other. we’ll start with favorite feature!”

“no.”

“yes!” 

your eye twitches at how quick he is to reject your refusal. the twitching intensifies when he starts humming the jeopardy theme and prancing around you, clearly waiting for your approval. you decide you’re gonna be bullheaded on this one — or, at the very least, try to be.

“absolutely not.”

nikolai let’s out a foul buzzer noise “absolutely! c’mon. i’ll go first-”

“nikolai. no.”  

there’s now a dull pounding in your head and you’re starting to think that maybe conceding is the best option to get him to stop.

“nikolai. yes!” his grin is wide and you can tell he’s caught on to your waning perseverance.

you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, a sign of you accepting defeat. “if i tell you, will you stop bouncing around like that and calm down?”

“cross my heart and hope to die!” his tone is cheery, sing-song and light. 

you know — you know — you’re going to regret this later but you could care less at this particular moment. anything to give you a sliver of peace. 

“fine…your dimples, they’re my favorite feature of yours, they’re…mesmerizing…”

you look away embarrassed at the admission, missing the way nikolais face softens for a moment. then he winds up again, like a toy soldier that just had its key turned to the max. he’s moving around you with twice the amount of gusto as he was before his promise, practically vibrating. you scowl at him, displeased.

“you promised you would knock that off, you clown.”

the said clown gives you a pleased grin and sings out again. “i lied!”

you cannot believe you let him trick you like that, your ire making your skin crawl. or maybe that’s your embarrassment prickling at your skin and making it flush. you try not to let your mind linger on it too much as you let a response fly out of your mouth.

“then die.”

[lissrissye]

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔲𝔭 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪… 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫?

✿•˖* ㅤ synopsis ; they bought you makeup when you went shopping yesterday. you wanted to test it out on them because they had the perfect features! long eyelashes, plump lips, etc. (or you just did it for fun-)

✿•˖* notes ; i got lazy so i may or may not post the “they slap you during an argument”, sorry ya’ll ! 😭🙏💗

✿•˖* includes ; osamu dazai, nakahara chuuya, ryunosuke akutagawa, edgar allan poe, and fyodor~ ❥

✿•˖* genre ; sweet romance, fluff, safe for work !

ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ is quite playful when you first asked if you could apply your makeup on him. He doesn’t mind at all, and he likes to play around with you as you test your makeup on him. He has soft, plump lips, so you decided putting some of your brand new lipsticks on him. The bratty brunette smudges the pink lipstick with his thumb once you take a step back to see how it looks. His specialty is to annoy you, really. Of course, you crossed you arms at him, but he just charmingly smirked at you in response, making your heart melt. —“Do I look like a beautiful princess?~”

You hated how he could just get away with anything with that smirk you loved oh too much. As you started to put eyeliner on your beloved, since he has perfect-shaped eyes, your beloved just decided to move around and mess you up. At this point, he was irritating you.

You had to offer him cuddles and kisses later for him to cooperate. You took a step back, taking a quick picture before you were about to wipe the makeup off him. However, he wanted to show it off… He ended up walking around Yokohama with the full-face of makeup on, not ashamed. You were humiliated by your detective lover’s behavior.

ɴᴀᴋᴀʜᴀʀᴀ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ is annoyed when you request to put your makeup on him. He accepted in the end, but it took a lot of begging—… you had to go on your knees and plead him with your sad, adorable puppy eyes. Your arrogant, ginger-haired boyfriend could never say “no” to you anyways, you were his only weakness. During the process, he would complain, grumble, or groan loudly to get your attention, trying to demonstrate just how much he doesn’t like this at all.

—“Just know I’m only doing this because I know nobody else would put up with this bullshit.” The Port Mafia executive spoke with his signature scowl as you put mascara on him. You know just how much he despised being or looking vulnerable and inferior, especially in front of you. Though, he secretly enjoys this moment because he’s with you. That was the one benefit to him in this. You didn’t notice it, but a soft smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as you were occupied looking for blush.

Once you turned around, he quickly dropped the grin of his and acted all tough and irritated again. He was trying not to smile so hard… you look so excited, it was adorable to him. He had to look away to prevent himself from letting a smirk come across his face.

ʀʏᴜɴᴏꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ is flustered when you abruptly approach him with the objective to test your brand new makeup products on him. He was surprised at first, then his face slowly turned red in embarrassment. He didn’t want to just shoo you away, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to look pathetic with makeup on… those sad, pleading eyes of yours looking up at him… how could he just send you off?

—“Fine, just not to much… okay, my… lo-love?” Your dark-eyed dear told you. He was such a sweetheart in the interior, hesitating to call you a cute name, even as simple as ‘my love’, since the poor boy had never received love before, making it difficult for him to be romantic with you. When you sat him down, you feel his body is tense. He was unsure about this. You then instructed him to shut his eyes tight so you can put eyeshadow on him. He was obedient despite how much it hurt ego. After you’ve finished putting eyeshadow on Akutagawa’s eyelids, you noticed his cheeks a warm, pink hue.

—“Huh, I don’t recall applying blush on your cheeks…” You thought, and in response, Akutagawa just looked away in silence. He tried avoiding the subject so you wouldn’t realize he was really flustered because of you.

ᴇᴅɢᴀʀ ᴀʟʟᴀɴ ᴘᴏᴇ is shy when you distracted him from writing his mystery novel for Ranpo to solve, with the desire of adding your makeup products to test on him. He immediately looked away with a bright, cherry-red face as you sat on his lap, putting your products on his desk and moving his novel aside for a moment. With shaky hands, her puts his hands on your hips to support you, as the last thing he wanted was for you to fall off his lap.

—“Ok-okay… please don’t overdo it th-though, sweetheart…” Your timid darling spoke in a quiet voice as you start to put foundation on his face. You lifted the hair from his face just to see him already looking down at you with a gentle, loving and affectionate look. He allowed you to tap foundation on his forehead, use your brush to put blush on his cheeks, use mascara on him, etc. He was okay with it as long as you didn’t use to much of your products on him.

When you had finished, he turned you around so he could continue working on his novel with you on his lap. He felt very hot, so you wondered if he had a fever. In reality, he was just so humiliated that his entire body felt hot.

ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ is neutral when he felt your arms embrace his torso from behind, seeking to use your makeup products on him. He turned around, carrying you to your shared bedroom, setting you down and sitting on the bed. You sprinted to your desk, grabbing hold of all the new products he had purchased for you.

—“You have my permission, myshka. Just as long you remove it once your done.” Fyodor cooed with a soothing voice in your ear, stroking your smooth hair with his pale, cold hands. You smiled brightly as you reached for red lipstick and lipgloss to start off with. It was wine-red, and your terrorist beloved seemed to enjoy the color. He kissed your cheek as soon as you finished layering the lipstick with lipgloss, leaving a mark on your cheek. He knew just how to fluster you. You didn’t even bother to rub it off and just proceeded to put highlighter at the corner of his eyes, as well as contour on his nose, etc.

As you were finishing up putting highlighter on your boyfriend’s nose, Fyodor was in a trance, captivated by your beauty, as if he got hypnotized by you. Though, your didn’t pick up on this.

[marichild]

ok i would LOVE to know more about ur interpretation of skk it sounds so based

sure anon [rubs hands] this is such an unpopular take but what the hell. so much of this was given form in dms with friends please

okay so when I say siblingcoded I absolutely do not mean I see them as siblings. it means: you know how siblings fight, and fight horribly, and get so angry with each other — only to forgive each other so easily without needing proper explanations for why you pissed each other off? when I fight with my siblings, it's loud and explosive and generally a horrible time for anyone else to be near us, yet you'll find me with my head on my sister's lap or yapping about anime with my brother the next day.

that's what skk are like — they fight and rage and whale on each other bloody but at the end of the day they'll always come back together without needing an explanation for why they did what they did. simply understanding that they managed to piss each other off and they fought but it literally doesn't matter anymore. what's the point of keeping it up? (this is especially true on chuuya’s end because he's incapable of holding proper grudges forever but dazai isn't and the way they both are about betrayal is fucking hilarious when contrasted actually).

the thing about them is that they've been falling into bed together since they were teenagers and it doesn't necessarily have anything attached to it; they understand the reasons they each do things and don't necessarily want explanations out of each other for things they know they're going to figure out eventually given time — this is most frequently highlighted in that chuuya is willing to go along with any insane plan dazai comes up with because it's dazai and he trusts that dazai will make it work somehow. dazai's never failed him where it truly matters and he does not believe that, as much as dazai annoys him, would ever purposely do anything to hurt him or endanger him.

something about bsd that I forever admire is the way asagiri handles priorities/ideals/values/loyalty/etc. vs. personal feelings for people. the thing is that the organizational divide literally does not matter to skk. dazai truly doesn't hold it against chuuya for being loyal to the pm and the same applies to chuuya about dazai and the ada. this is also why chuuya being so blatantly betrayed and furious with dazai over leaving the pm in fanon has always felt so...off, to me.

which is not to say it's not an aspect you can't play with and make fun in fanworks but as per canon chuuya really doesn't care that much the way I see it tbh. I mean — would he have been hurt and upset that dazai straight up disappeared without warning and then resurfaced working for an organization that they clash with frequently? of course. they were close in a strange way and trust doesn't negate that dazai does owe chuuya the truth. but I think it's important to remember two things:

chuuya is logical and rational, always has been, able to pick out and piece things together correctly based on even innocuous details, even as a temperemental and violent teenager (remember 15 and how he pinpointed rimbaud? or the whole of stormbringer?) which he is not anymore; his brutal physical strength doesn't negate his intelligence and ability to think logically in the face of emotions. how do you think he made it all the way to pm executive, if he were a firecracker and a liability to mori? (this is different from akutagawa who (1) brings results that are useful and substantial despite being a loose cannon (2) is mori's specialest little guy I literally have textual evidence from the manga for this that I can't get at rn bc no wifi lmao)

he fought with dazai for approximately ten minutes and then decided jt wasn't fucking worth it. this is his first appearance in the series. it is genuinely so funny to me that he was trying to play at dude who was pissed off as all hell (and of course he was, because again, dazai did just up and leave), but he knew and dazai knew that he just doesn't care that much anymore and honestly probably never did lmao.

extra third point that's more a characterization of chuuya complaint: it does irritate me that people make chuuya this angry guy swinging fists when he's literally such a chill and normal guy. the lab baby is the normalest guy in this series yall. once again he got as far as he did in the pm hierarchy for a reason 😭😭 he and dazai just revert to being 15 year olds in each other's presence but even then the difference between 15/16!skk and 22!skk is so clear in the way they interact and carry out their plans. they've both grown a lot as people. please give this to them <3 especially chuuya <3 this is also why the end of live action beast is simply not real to and ignites intense rage in me

all this to say: points to the siblingcoded point again to say. chuuya literally gets it + understands why dazai left the mafia. chuuya is one of the people closest to dazai who would've seen how the mafia environment was destroying dazai and sending him further into the pits of mental health hell — I don't think it takes a genius to realize that dazai's genuinely been better (but not entirely,) since he left.

also it's just like. chuuya understands how the mafia works and is loyal to them anyway and this is separate to his insane-trust-fall thing with dazai; he would've gotten that mori had gotten dazai's best friend killed and that dazai's other best friend had been involved in it. what does one expect dazai to do at that point? he was just eighteen years old — and don't take this as me criticizing mori PLEASE. this blog liberally blocks mori haters ♡ I am capable of nuanced thought in that direction too ♡

skk's thing is entirely separate from their loyalty to their respective organizations. they're partners who know each other the best. they know what makes the other tick. they move in sync even when it appears out of step. chuuya trusts dazai to not get him killed and dazai trusts chuuya to be able to perfectly execute his plans no matter how crazy they are because he understands chuuya the best. there are parts of them the other will never understand truly because they grew up into their current selves away from each other — and that's fine. it's truly fine, because it's not necessary for them to be eternally stuck together as a bonded-do-not-separate pair.

okay this brings me to my last point: doesn't this all sound romantic? sure. if you want it to be. but my constant thinking about skk doesn't agree. help. </3

to begin with I don't think it's cut that clearly considering (1) asagiri is very insistent on placing equal importance on everyone's relationships throughout their lives without giving them clearcut labels or placing them on a hierarchy, so to speak; connections make you who you are etc. (2) dazai is in love with everyone he's ever chosen to keep close in some odd way and it is not necessarily romantic he's just weird /aff forever (3) romance and friendship aren't mutually exclusive; they're different words for things that feel similarly but can be different if you so wish it to be. labels are descriptive not prescriptive etc. skk, to me, just happen to fall onto the side that's less romantic.

I probably have more to say but I'm running on 3 hours of sleep (again) and more caffeine than I should probably have in an attempt to trick my adhd into thinking it's working. placebos are so important....

edit: first reblog and it's already my favorite ILY KAVI LMAO