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[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇

౨ৎ . . . in which CHUUYA NAKAHARA begins to notice there's one particular day of the year you hate to celebrate.

warnings: female reader, established relationship, suggestive content, criminal themes, previous trauma (f!reader), healing, hurt/comfort, w.c 2.2k

"You want to go for dinner? Today? Oh, would it be okay if we reschedule, Chuuya? I forgot about a friend I promised to see..."

"Ah — the weather today is forecast to be awful! How about we just stay inside and watch a movie?"

"Oh, I don't usually celebrate my birthday. But enough about me! Why don't we go abroad for your one? Wherever you'd like to go. I'm sure Mori-dono will spare his favourite General a few days."

.

.

.

𓂃 ࣪˖

Chuuya Nakahara, quick-minded and astute as he was, had noticed a pattern in your mood around this time of year. It was as if there were a storm impending, its' clouds creeping over you a little bit more each day. You became quiet and reserved; an opposite to how you were when it was just the two of you — your mind settled elsewhere.

He could see the nightmares you tried to hide play like shadows across your face.

"Do you think she'd like this one, Chuuya?"

He blinked, beckoned from his thoughts. You were gazing up at him — eyes wide, expectant — pointing at an item in front of you. Upon closer inspection, Chuuya realised you had been gesturing between two different coloured teddy bear plushies in the storefront window.

Frowning, what the fuck was the difference, he muttered, "Don't 'spose it matters. She's just gonna lie in bed and drool all over it in anyway, right?"

"Of course, it matters!" You scolded him. "Her favourite colour is pink; which is why I'm leaning more towards the right one. But the colour scheme of her room is yellow, which the other one would compliment much better. Hmm, I don't know."

"Just shove a few yen into an envelope. Easy. If you're feelin' extra sentimental, give her some mochi with it, too."

You flitted your eyes from the two cuddly toys to your boyfriend with the intent to level him with a look. But when you did, caught sight of his furrowed eyebrows; the way he wrinkled his nose when something was annoying him. He appeared to be attempting to burn holes through the glass with how intently he stared at the bears — trying to discern why this was such a big deal to you. Your terrifying mafioso boyfriend took on the appearance of a grumpy cat.

You wanted to kiss him. Everywhere.

So that was exactly what you did.

"Hey—O-Oi!" Chuuya exclaimed when you attacked him; leaning up on your toes to pepper his face with dozens of fluttering kisses. His hands came to your waist, firm but surprised, stabilising the both of you in case you toppled him over. His little noise of surprise mellowed into a boyish chuckle. He tugged you gently at the waist, pulling his face from yours, but still keeping close, still sharing the same whisper. "Where's all this eagerness comin' from? You seemed pretty satisfied this morning, from what I can recall."

The memories of him waking up next to you in your one-bedroom apartment rushed through you; a flash of wicked blue eyes and slow, sleepy heights of pleasure. You knew there was blush rushing to your cheeks — because Chuuya's eyes flickered down to them.

He grinned.

You rolled your eyes, not helping how you mirrored it.

"I hate you." It came chasing a chuckle.

Chuuya arched one of his sharp brows. "Oh?" He challenged, and then swooped down to trap you against his body. Leaning back, he lifted you into the air, spinning softly. "You'd never make it in the mafia, baby doll. Such a shit liar.

"Okay, okay. I think we're getting off topic." You said when he set you back down again, although kept a hand hovering a the small of your back. Instinctively, you leaned back into it, finding his touch familiar. "If I held a gun to your head and told you to pick, what one would you choose?" You asked, facing the bears again.

Chuuya snorted. "First, I'd call ya stupid for pointin' a gun at someone who manipulates gravity."

"Chuuya."

"Fine, the yellow one. It's less... annoyin', to look at."

"I'll take it." You smiled, then leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips. Or, what you had meant to be chaste. But just as you shifted to move away, your unpredictable General boyfriend seemed to have other ideas; his slender fingers slid into your hair and tilted your head back, deepening what was supposed to be a thank you into something that screamed don't stop. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you into him against his body made of pure honed muscle and bone.

And the wicked man was smiling when he pulled away from you. You were dazed, gripping onto his leather coat, blinking the haze from your eyes when you refocused them.

"Don't mention it." He purred, and you almost contemplated leaning back into him. You opted to huff instead.

"What'll I do with you?" You murmured, ribbons of tease in your slightly hoarse voice.

Chuuya's expression became bemused, asking if you really wanted him to answer that question. You loved this silly back and forth that came so easily between you two. Free flowing and endless; how your relationship was strengthen by the fact you were both each other's best friend as much as one true desire. The heated moments always came with a parry, a joke, a nibble at your ticklish spot that made you howl. Like now — as mirth danced in his eyes, something quick-witted brewing behind them.

But as a few quiet seconds ticked by; that mirth darkened. It became something heavier and pondering.

You tilted your head slightly. "Chuuya?"

The corners of his lips battled against a frown. "Can I ask ya somethin'?" He asked, suddenly a little more serious.

"Of course — anything."

"Why won't ya tell me when your birthday is?"

The question caught you rather off-guard. It was not too far off the topic of today's little shopping trip; to buy your best friend a birthday present — and yet it still struck you all the same. You froze against him. Chuuya must have noticed, because the muscles in his cheek ticked when he clenched his jaw. Fuck, he hated upsetting you. He hated being the reason that anything but love and joy crossed your expression. But here you were — looking at him in a panic, like he just unholstered the gun at his hip and pointed it your way.

Despite his protective nature singing in his ears — telling him to just drop it, to bring it up some other time — Chuuya stood his ground. If there was one thing he couldn't bear other than hurting you, it was you closing down and hurting yourself.

Chuuya was quiet, levelling you with his expectant eyes. You could feel the bottom of your stomach falling through. Why now — why was he suddenly asking you this? Where was this even coming from? You bit your lip, a wall coming up and trying to wedge itself between you both — not that you wanted to push him away. But it was a reflex, a defence mechanism, ingrained into your brain since you were a small child.

You shook your head. "I just—can we not do this, Chuuya?"

"Can we not do this?" He repeated. You thought there was a hint of hurt edging his voice, but if there was, it was gone in a heartbeat. "Baby," He pushed, taking a step forward when you tried to pull away. "I get it if somethin' shitty happened, but at least tell me that — you don't owe me anythin', but I can't stand seeing the nightmares in your eyes, doll. It kills me when I don't know why."

Memories flooded up into your mind — hazy and distant now after so much time had passed, but they still stung enough to make you flinch. There were shouts and arguments, there was banging, there was your hands covering your ears to try and block them out. It was almost as if your were back there cowering in the corner of your room, rocking back and forth, and you instinctively tried to reach up to cover your ears.

But the air wasn't stuffy and stagnant — here, in the present, it was warm. It smelled like cherry blossoms and expensive leather gloves. You edged back into your surroundings by the soft brush of a thumb tracing your cheekbone. You weren't aware of the trails of wet tears that had fallen down your face until a light spring breeze brushed passed.

Chuuya didn't move an inch — catching every tear that tumbled down your cheeks. He held himself so still, so composed, because hell if he didn't want to demand every little detail about the asshole that hurt you that bad so he could pay them a kindly visit. He bit down on the inside of his cheek until copper sang on his tongue. But he couldn't startle you, he couldn't break your progress when you had been coaxed out from that awful place you locked yourself up inside. He just kept wiping your wet cheeks, not letting any of the tears fall.

"Talk to me." Chuuya whispered after a few pregnant seconds.

Talk to me, you repeated, letting it wash through your body and soothe the heartache hollowing out your chest. You were no longer back there, alone and afraid, you were here. With the love of your life. And you could trust him, you could lean on him as you would tell him to lean on you.

A long, rattling sigh left your lips. You leaned into one of his palms. "Sorry, I—" You chuckled, not really understanding why. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Don't be stupid—"

"But I did." You cut across him. "I guess, I haven't really healed from what I went through back then. I don't know... how to tell people things. Instead I just shove them down and expect you not to notice. Not a very fool-proof plan, huh?" Your lips kicked up into a watery smile.

Chuuya was patient; he cradled your face in the palm of his hand and placed his other on your hip, drawing soothing circles. He waited for you. You took a few heavy sighs before gathering the courage to push past years of pain and continue.

"I—I've always hated celebrating my birthday. Most of the memories I have from them were always unhappy, always full of pain, so I—I guess I never wanted you to find out about it. I don't know why, because I know out of all people you wouldn't judge me, but, I don't know—I—"

"Shh, it's okay." Chuuya cooed. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, baby." He then tugged at your waist to pull you into his chest, and you went willingly. Folding yourself into his embrace with your head tucked underneath his chin. He kissed the crown of your head and murmured into your hair, "Just wish you told me sooner. You've been carryin' all that 'round, huh?"

You hummed. Snuggled into his warmth and familiar scent a little more, drinking it in greedily.

"I underestimated how perceptive you were."

"Oi."

You giggled wetly. "Just kidding."

The both of you remained like that for quite some time. Uncaring of the curious onlookers passing by or those who slinked through the storefront doors. It was just the two of you; in a separate pocket of reality where time stood still. You knew there were old wounds on your heart that would take long to heal — some spearing so deep they would even leave scars. But you had found your person; the safe space that let all your thoughts go quiet after a long day.

And maybe that was enough.

The love you shared, the trust, it would be enough. It was enough.

"Can I guess?" Chuuya said through the peaceful quiet.

"Hmm?"

"April 10th."

"Excuse me?"

"April 11th."

"Are you trying to guess my birthday—?"

"May 1st!"

And he was absolutely not a man to back down, either. It was so silly, but true to his word, Chuuya threw out every random date that popped into his head instead of simply asking you. He kept guessing until he made tears smart your eyes from laughter. Until he went through every single month of the year before finally landing it right.

"First try." He gloated — evidently exhausted — sending you into another fit of laughter once more. "Shit. I better get to work, then."

"You—oh!"

Chuuya had swooped you up into an easy bridal hold right in the middle of a busy Yokohama street. You shrieked, half in glee, half mortified at all the pairs of eyes magnetised your way. Chuuya brushed them all off as he began to walk down the street; intent on carrying you all the way to wherever he wished to kidnap you off to.

"Work to do for what?" You asked against the side of his face.

Your criminal boyfriend with a heart of gold when it came to you turned to meet your eyes. There was a mischievous little twinkle in them you adored him for.

"Because I'm about to make this year's birthday the best you've damn well ever had, princess. And I ain't got long to prepare."

✎ . . . requested by wonderful nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Split Decision

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.

You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.

The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.

You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.

It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.

That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.

Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.

You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.

A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.

"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."

A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"

Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.

The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."

The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.

You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.

You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.

After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.

They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.

Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.

But you weren't going to settle for either.

As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.

Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.

You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.

The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.

A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"

"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."

But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.

A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"

"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"

Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."

"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."

It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.

"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."

"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."

Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."

"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.

He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.

A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.

You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.

"My room or yours?" You asked.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.

Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.

You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.

He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.

There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"

You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.

"Fuck."

It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.

Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.

Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.

"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."

"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.

Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.

"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"

His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.

"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.

"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.

He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.

You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.

You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.

"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.

"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.

"Can you bend over f'me?"

You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.

Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.

"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"

As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."

Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.

He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.

Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

"Be easy on her," he warned him.

You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"

Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.

His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.

"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.

Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.

You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.

Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.

Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"

"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.

You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.

Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.

Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"

You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."

Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."

Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.

Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"

"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."

Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.

Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.

Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."

You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.

"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.

Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.

"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."

"Dazai, I swear to god -"

But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.

"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."

Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.

He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.

You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.

"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Red rope of fate

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

reblog to pet the sad cat 　　　　　　 ＿＿ 　　　　　／＞　　フ 　　　　　|  　_　 _ l 　 　　　／` ミ＿xノ 　　 　 /　　　 　 | 　　　 /　 ヽ　　 ﾉ 　 　 │　　|　|　| 　／￣|　　 |　|　| 　| (￣ヽ＿_ヽ_)__) 　＼二つ

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

This fic is so precious, so freaking sweet and all. Yuji is the biggest softie, I loved it!

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

New chapter has me in shambles

So if I understand Fyodor's ability correctly-

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

If this was heaven

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader

Warnings: pure fluff

A/N: I don't have any energy to write the last part of my angst series so I'm emptying my drafts. Please enjoy this fluff I wrote sometime ago for someone special to me. It will take a very long while until I get back into writing, so please be patient.

Chuuya was exhausted. Today was hell, a mission, then paperworks, then again another mission. The only thing he wanted was to melt away on the sofa at home, with a glass of wine in front of him. But he was so tired that he only made it to the sofa and left his head on the headrest, eyes closed. He did not even know where you were. You did not greet him at the entrance as you usually do. He missed your kind smile and how you would tackle him down into a hug. He was so tired that he didn’t even have the force to call your name to see if you’re home. He sighed, if he had the option he would abandon the Mafia in an instant and run away with you. He wanted slow mornings in which he can cuddle with you, kiss away the sleep from your eyes, and just be with you for as long as he wanted too.

Chuuya was so caught up in daydreaming to a better situation for the both of you that he did not hear your little tip-toes. You were in his office, reading something for your work and just had the vague impression he came home. Founding Chuuya sprawled out on the sofa like a puppy, warmed your heart. He was probably exhausted, so you thought you should spoil him a little.

You gently touched his knees to make him aware of your presence and don’t startle him.

“ Hi, my handsome boy.” you smiled, towering over him.

He lazily raised his head up and opened his beautiful blue orbs. “Hi, my love.” Chuuya then extended one hand gently tugging you to come and sit over him, and you obliged, smiling.

You grabbed his face gently with your warm hands, stroking his cheeks. That was enough to make your boy melt.

"Tough day darling?” You smiled while looking in those ocean eyes. You could drown in them over and over again.

“You have no idea” he closed back his eyelids and turned his face to kiss the palm of your hand.

It was moments like this that kept Chuuya sane. Having you care for him almost washed away the stress accumulated through the day. Your sweet giggles were music to his ears.

“Then I might have an idea to make you forget about this ugly day. Do you trust me, my angel?” Your fingers turned his face back to face you. He let out a laugh, the pet name was definitely not the one suitable for his person, but he couldn't deny you anything in this world. Not even if you'd ask him for the sun.

“I'm all yours, doll.” he crooked a tired smile at you, closing his eyes, letting you take the lead. Your heart swole at this sight. His pretty face was at your mercy. So you started kissing every inch of it, starting with his eyelids, whispering him sweet words

“I love you”. Then you kissed the other one. “You're such an amazing boyfriend”. Then got to plaster lots of kisses on his nose “you're so handsome”, moved to the space between his eyebrows “you're my sweet boy”. Your lips left praises and kisses all over his beautiful face. His forehead was next, going down on his cheeks then his jaw, his chin then hovering over his lips. “Enjoying it, Chuu?”

Chuuya felt like he touched the gates of heaven. His cheeks were dusted pink , from being overwhelmed by the sweetness of your actions. God, how much he loved you. You had the power to take away all his worries, all the stress from every cell in his body. He felt spoiled with affection and he cherished every moment like this that you were offering him.

“You forgot one spot” he whispered, barely opening one eye. He saw your content grin before you smashed your lips on his. He put his hand on the sides of your head and kissed you like it was his last day on earth. His heart could burst out at any moment from the warmth you spread inside his body. He felt he reached the skies and was granted to enter the land of the innocents.

If this was heaven, Chuuya would do anything to rest here and never have to get back to his daily hell. If this was heaven, he'd gladly be dead and have an angel like you pampering him in kisses. If this was heaven, he was a sinner who received the mercy of the gods, kissed by a star who was casting away his sins even just for one evening.

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Next part is up, next part is up, I repeat, next part is up!

Definitely the twist no one expected. To say that I'm eager and maybe a bit terrified for the next part is an understatement.

The word that made the difference 

Summary:  You knew you had to get professional help even if you did not want to, Dazai’s words and actions made it absolutely clear to you he wouldn’t tolerate anything else, and Chuuya seemed to silently agree with him. Still the answer you got was not for the question you asked; but that one word was enough to make you reevaluate everything. 

Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader (skk x fem!reader) 

Author note: An independent continuation of Desperate times series, and next part of  Happy unhappy home! Check that series out if you’d like more angst, skkx reader, new parents, all that and see more of what happened right before this scene! 

Warning: Cursing, depression/postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents =bad choices/reactions, Angst,  

Enjoy~

Pregnant

The word felt unfamiliar- surreal- like a misdiagnosis wrapped in excuses, wrapped in women’s issues and wrapped in reasons to get you out of the office. Yet it was as if that singular word explained everything you had experienced lately and nothing at all. Maybe it explained the hopelessness, the darkness, the unbearably tense existence that has become your home; but it could not explain the way you felt about the twins. The inability to connect with them. Or the inability to feel any warmths from Dazai and Chuuya. Perhaps, at this point, you were so ruined and wrong that you could not connect with anyone. Not the twins, not Dazai and not Chuuya. 

We think you have postpartum depression

A part of you wanted to stand up, run out of the medical office and into the waiting room right outside where the four of them were waiting. To tub it into the two mafioso's faces that they were wrong. Ha the geniuses were not genius enough to sidestep medical school, and it wasn’t as easy as to use some template they took from god-knows-where and assed you by it instead of talking with you, asking you, helping you. They were wrong- you were right. You won. 

But what was your prize? 

“ I have never had a reason to hit you. You’ve always been a smart girl- don’t give me another reason to do it. Again. If you’re sick- get help.” 

Dazai’s words from a day ago rang in your ears. His tone, the iciness in his gaze as he brought you down to the knees in cold standing water with a single slap repeated itself in your mind. Like a never-ending loop it played before your eyes. Your mind, the twisted bastard, hadn't left the image unchanged, but rather conjured up the way it must have looked from all angles; from the side, from above and even from below. Driving in the humiliation further. Like some dramatic exaggerated scene out of a soap opera, a middle aged housewives tv-series, and the act was meant to be a huge burden for the main stars in season one but then it gets solved three episodes later. 

Forgiven and forgotten.

But this wasn’t a soap opera, this wasn’t some lame drama created to satisfy lonely women as they waited for their loving husbands to come home from golf. This was reality. Your reality- your life. And soon, not only your own. That one realization grounded; it was enough to escape the clutches of shock and confusion and placed you back inside the small, simple medical office and the woman opposite you.  

“ Well yeah, it’s no wonder you’ve been feeling like shit the last few weeks. I’d say congratulations but really— “ 

Yosano’s voice faded into the background again; your mind tiffany twisted, drowned out her words as more flashbacks pulled you under the surface of reality. Simple things, comparisons like the joy last pregnancy brought and the dread this one carried. How caring, sweet and gentle it started but how difficult the previous one ended; and how difficult this one started while the thought of it getting worse filled you with dread. 

Blood rushed to your ears; your pounding heart overshadowed all sounds, dulled the quiet medical office into an obnoxiously loud space. Your vision blurred, tunneled and span. Inadvertently you pressed the fingers of your shaking hand to your eyes and rubbed them, then shook your head to try and clear the dark dots which played in your sight. 

You wondered how and why it happened. You couldn’t fathom the idea that you were, yet again, carrying a life inside you. No, it was absurd. Surely Yosano was mistaken, it hadn’t even gone that long since the twins were born and– 

All at once the reality came crashing back down again. You were back on the hard chair, back opposite Yosano and suddenly very aware of every inch of the office. And the continuation of her displeased rant; the way her tone grew louder, annoyance sipped into every syllable. The barely held back curses which evidently played on the tip of her tongue. Yet she tried to look casual, head rested in the palm of her hand, body language open and turned towards you. But the anger was undeniable in the way her second hand gripped the pen, almost snapped it in half and poured the goey black onto a pile of papers- the results that signaled your doom. “ I told the damned bastards to–” 

“ – But I thought you couldn’t get pregnant at least until 18 months have passed after birth” you interrupted her, your voice a fraction away from hysterical. You looked at Yosano expectedly, begging her for the confirmation that this was some weird biological fluke. A mistake that no one of you could have predicted.

You jumped as she slammed her fist against the wooden desk. 

“ Where the hell did you hear that bullshit from?” Yosano took a deep breath, slipped back into her composed doctor mask and did you the courtesy to reply to your questions calmly and professionally “It’s not recommended to get pregnant earlier than 18 months after delivery, to give the body time to heal. However, biologically speaking, there’s nothing preventing you from it once you’ve gotten your period. Some can get pregnant as early as four weeks after.” 

You bit your lips to hold back a curse, and hung your head at your own stupidity. “ But one time..” you mumbled absentmindedly as memories of an unromantic quickie on the same night the pair returned home from their months long mission ran through your mind. A disappointing act that drove a rift in your relationship. That became a silent fight you never openly addressed; just picked up your things and moved into the shoe-sized spare bedroom. Something which neither part of double black seemed to mind. 

If anything you swore your absence in the bedroom brought them relief. 

To your surprise, Yosano rested a comforting hand on your shoulder. “ Sometimes one time is plenty. Now then to break the news-” She moved away from you and began stomping towards the door which separated her office from the rest of the medical bay. And ultimately, the space where your so-called lovers waited with the twins. 

“ No wait!” you cried. In an instant up on your feet, both hands wrapped around Yosano’s arm. Although she was undoubtedly stronger, the action was shocking enough to halt her movements. She turned to face you, surprise edged into her features. But you couldn’t meet her eyes. No, you did not want her to see that the seemingly perfect relationship had been reduced to shambles. A broken thing which had become filled with responsibilities and fear. The thought made your cheeks redden in shame; never ever in your life would you have thought you’d be fearful of your lover's reaction to seemingly joyful news. And even more shamefully, feel the need to make excuses for it in public. 

“ Tell me honestly Y/N” Yosano’s voice was low, the accusation unmistakable. 

“ It’s Dazai’s” You answered in a heartbeat, met her gaze full on with the most earnestness you had ever displayed in your life. “ Undoubtedly his.” 

You dropped your hand from her arm and brought it back to your side, wrapped it protectively around your stomach. You forced your lips up into a smile, hoped it looked innocent yet nervous. Then mellowed out the look in your eyes to the point the blush looked more shy than guilty. “ W-well, you know, Dazai’s been wanting a child of his own since the twins and I.. just want to break the news to him in a special way.” The lie rolled smoothly off your tongue and Yosano seemed to buy it. 

She laughed at you, teased you for the still corny behavior while lightly reminded you this wasn’t your first kid as she sat back down and began going over essential medical information with you. Information you took in with a smile, nodded in appropriate places without really listening. But who could have blamed you? 

Your mind was for once on your side as it formed second by second a feasible plan for you. Not easy, but manageable. Drunk on thought that you, YOU, the innocent little weak dove had gotten away with such a blatant lie gave you the courage you needed to indulge in those thoughts. The thoughts you hadn’t even dared to think of before. Now they felt so close and so real. 

Although, admittedly, the lie you uttered wasn’t a complete lie. Indeed, you intended to make sure he would find out this news in the most unforgettable way possible. 

You just never said the surprise was going to be good… 

Author note: The first part of this chapter is dedicated to each and every person who thought A Hit Beyond Rock Bottom was not heavy /angsty enough and Dazai’s actions weren’t too bad.

The second part is for us who can see that the reader is strong and it's time to see that strengths manifest itself into something useful. Well hope you enjoyed this and until next time~

Click here for: Part 1 , part 2 and part 3 or Check out Raven's masterlist.

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Happy start of a new week everyone! This got me rolling around and kicking my feet.

Welp, where do I apply to be Chuuya's assistant? With all the benefits he proposed obviously.

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

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

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

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

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

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

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

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

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Promise."

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

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

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

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Chuuya?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sucha good girl."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

The level of beatitude I wish to achieve

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. cherry blossom season ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

TW: death

And in the end, when you choose to die or death finally chooses you, you're alone. You're thinking about everything that got you to that point and, of course, in accordance with your choice you'll receive the last sentence with a smile or some tears. In accordance with your desire, you'll try to grip life's sleeves to stay in the world for some more moments or you'll look at her, thanking for what was but not wanting to know what will ever be.

But throughout the process, you'll be alone. As alone as you've always been, but lived in snippets and impressions of having a shared experience. They say in life there're only three constants: changes, taxes and death. It is almost peculiar, but there's always one more certainty. When you die, you're alone.

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Minors do not interact!!!!

This one made me cry! The softness and gentleness everyone deserves when not being able to express their own thoughts.

Someone attentive enough to see when it or life becomes too much. Someone to care!

Pineapple 

Summary:  A safeword is supposed to be there to make intimacy safe, to keep it safe and trust-filled, yet why do you feel so guilty for using it? OR When you'd rather betray yourself than risk hurting Chuuya, but does he feel the same?

Pairing: Fem! reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Raven’s Special prompt: “Can I ask for Raven's special, a NSFW fic with Chuuya?  Reader wants to stop the sex because it doesn't feel pleasurable anymore, but doesn't know how to voice it? And maybe it gets Chuuya confused about how she's acting? Feel free to twist this however you feel like it.” 

Warnings: Mature, triggering content; minors DNI!

This fic contains: Dubious/retracted consent, rough sex including mention of breath play, cuffs, dirty talk: degrading language towards reader, one use of 'daddy', ton of cursewords, penetration and probably something more. It's dark and heavy.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Pineapple 

The odd word came out as a choked whisper, a breathless barely audible sound uttered in between gasps for air. The gloved hand pressing down on your throat prevented you from saying it any louder. But was it enough? Or was it drowned out by the wet echo of Chuuya’s dick in your pussy, balls slapping against the soft cushing of your ass. Dulled out by the clang of handcuffs against the headboard as you made a feeble attempt to tug your hands free. 

“ Come on- ughh fuck- speak up my slutty doll, god, tell daddy what you want?” Chuuya groaned, his free hand gave your ass a rough slap. The hand on your throat loosened just an inch, enough for you to draw in a deeper heave of air but not enough to breathe freely. 

Your lungs burned; reminded you of that. 

You licked your lips in a feeble attempt to find the words yet your mind was blank. Filled with darkness and your heartbeat; a beat like the flutter of birdwings against the bars of a cage. A fear filled hammer of hesitation surrounded by the icy touch of guilt.’ Come on now, it should be easy’ you thought to yourself through the painful haze. ‘Just to repeat the name of that cursed fruit which has no place in the bedroom and it will all be over’.

...But could you really say that now? your mind questioned just as the first syllable rolled off your lips. ‘Would you really want to do that to Chuuya- to drown him in guilt? Would it even matter at this point’

Your eyes flickered to your lover; the hot red blush covered his handsome face. Sweat glistened every inch of him, his hair stuck to his skin. A lewd grin on his lips; something between worship and possessive obsession.  Eyes a darkened shade of lust that watched your every expression. At your gaze he ducked his head closer, brushed hot lips against your own. Then rested them on your sweaty forehead. 

“ Come on slutty doll, don’t keep me waiting” he urged more earnestly.

You felt your heart clench in agony at the thought of hurting him, of hurting this man. To burden him with the guilt that he crossed a line you didn’t realize you had; turned painful pleasure into pain.

‘What difference would it make?’ your mind wondered to yourself again. 

A difference that you’d burden him over something insignificant. The missed word that was not his fault. But, you reasoned with yourself, if you kept still then he wouldn’t need to bear that guilt. To feel that wretched emotion that would tear at his heartstrings. And you would have the time to analyze this all; to rationally be able to formulate what it was that caused this. Then speak your limits to him before next time. 

Keep emotions in- facts out. 

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. Your heart, your core, your very soul ached with the want need to make it stop. To have him out of you, away, not touching, not groping or slapping. Not being his thing for pleasure- toy, doll or whatever term he felt described you in that instant. You wanted it all to just stop. 

But what if you uttered the word again and nothing stopped? What then? 

Your last sliver of control would shatter right before you. It would turn an already bad situation worse. The pain and guilt of your own choices, the blame towards yourself for not stopping when you had the means to, that you could live with. But the possible notion that you did everything right and yet it still made no difference; that you put yourself in complete mercy of another and yet you received no mercy back, that was something you did not know how you’d recover from. 

So you bit your lips and closed your eyes; you hoped the tears would stay put behind your eyelids as your mind retreated elsewhere. Your thoughts on anything but the burning pain, the icy grasp of guilt and burning hot rod of humiliation. 

“ Sweetheart?” You shook your head, plastered on a smile on your lips which you hoped was convincing enough. You didn’t dare speak in case a treacherous sob broke loose. No, you couldn’t cry. ‘happy thoughts, just think of happy thoughts’ you told yourself and prayed it’d be enough

“ Wow wow wow, what’s the matter?” You didn’t realize that he had stopped; pulled out. Didn’t notice that the cuffs were gone and he was tugging you up into a sitting position in the bed, ready to start aftercare. “ Hey, look at me babydoll, please, c’mon something to drink? You must be thirsty, yeah?” Chuuya whispered, his hand stroke at your cheek, trailed your tears with featherlight touches. 

The gentleness broke something inside you; in a single motion you dropped your head on his shoulder, leaned your whole weight onto him, and then just cried.

The quiet utterance of your self betrayal.

If the action confused Chuuya, he did not show it. Instead he let go of the water bottle in favour of holding you. One arm wrapped around your shoulders while the second one stroked your hair to the rhythm of your sobs. He held you all throughout the night until there were no more tears left to shed. 

And through all that time, he never once guilted, blamed or reminded you that you should have used the safeword. That you should have said it sooner; Pineapple. 

Want something else?

Find more fics on Raven's masterlist

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

write for chuuya x fem!reader where she receives oral?

UMMM YEP YEP YEP, I SURE CAN!!! MDNI!!!!!!

Chuuya eats you out for his own pleasure--he likes the taste of you, he says (and you don't believe him no matter how much he proves it). He likes how soft and wet you are on his tongue and in his mouth. He feels proud when he makes you cum from his tongue and two fingers alone.

He comes home from work tense and annoyed. He had to run stupid fetch quests for scraps of information today, and none of it was useful to him. He hated feeling like a runt on the PM ladder again, so it pissed him off to no end. There's only one thing he can think of to cheer him up.

"[Y/N]," he calls out, kicking off his shoes by the door. "I need my sweet girl. I had a shit day."

He hears your voice from off to the right, so he heads in that direction not bothering to take his coat off. He peeks in your bedroom but you aren't there. He hopes maybe you'll be naked in the shower all warm and wet for him but-- no, you're not there either. Finally he pushes open the door to your office, and there you are, sat at your desk, typing away on your computer.

"Doll," he says, gripping the back of your chair. "Did you hear me?"

"Not exactly," you admit, still typing. "I heard you call for me and say you need something."

"You," he says, turning your chair toward him, forcing you to stop typing and look up at him. "I had a miserable fuckin' day and I need my pretty girl," he says, kneeling in front of you. He wastes not a single second spreading your legs apart and kissing up your thigh. He does so slowly, giving you plenty of opportunity to stop him, but you don't exactly.

"Huh? What happened? Are you sure you don't wanna talk about it first?" You take his hat off, internally chiding him for not even doing that on his way in the house.

"No," he grumbles, reaching up to your hip with one hand to feel at your waistband. "Just let me have a taste."

"Well who I am I say no when you need it so bad?" you coo playfully, lifting your hips up to give him access to take your shorts and underwear off in one swipe. You scoot to the edge of the seat and spread your legs wide, hooking them over the armrests of your chair.

Chuuya uses his teeth to take one of his gloves off. With his naked hand he spreads your pussy open, and his other, still-gloved hand, helps stabilize one of your legs. He leans in, using his tongue to draw circles over your clit. You bite your lip and watch him, arousal instantly building as he stimulates you.

He swipes his tongue in a wide, flat line up your labia, wetting the whole area and teasing you slightly before going back to circling your clit. He sucks it into his mouth slightly, giving it a little tease, then leaves open-mouthed tongue kisses over it, making our with your pussy.

"Chuu," you moan softly, pushing a strand of hair out of his face. He looks up at you, blue eyes bright and shining under his furrowed brows. You gently push on the line between his eyebrows with your thumb, trying to settle the stern look on his face. He lets you, fluttering his eyes closed as he continuously licks circles, working you up until you're wet, and even wetter for him.

His mouth pauses but one of his un-gloved fingers swipes across your pussy, gathering some of his spit as it trails down to your opening. He circles it slowly, using his spit to slide across the rim until his fingertip starts to disappear inside and he feels some of your wetness.

"Yeah, that's my good girl," he sighs happily, pressing his finger into you slowly. He only goes about halfway in, pressing up to what would be the backside of your clit. He massages the spot gently, sliding his finger in and out slowly as he starts licking all around your opening, your labia, your clit, giving you little tickles of stimulation all over.

When he feels your leg quaking a little, he activates his ability just slightly so your legs are easier for you to hold up, (he's ever so thoughtful). When they keep trembling anyway, he smirks and noses against your thigh.

"You're already getting sensitive, huh?"

"Yeah," you whine. "It feels good, Chuu. You know you're good at this."

"It's my pleasure, baby, trust me."

He commits to your first orgasm of the evening then, pushing his finger further in as he starts up flicking his tongue over your clit again. His speed only increases from here, his finger going faster in you, searching for all your best spots, while his tongue tickles your sensitive nerve. Your breath picks up, your chest heaving as you try to control your breathing and focus on the feeling your partner gives you.

He adds a second finger, now twisting and curling them to find the best spot deep inside you. His tongue works relentlessly now, spinning in sopping wet circles, going wide around your clit and then narrowing in to be only precisely on top of it. He takes a brief pause, giving it a brief suck and spitting on it then returning to flicking his tongue over it as fast as he's able. His fingers are also rabbiting in and out of you, hitting your favorite spot and working a deep feeling into a tight coil in your gut.

"I'm close, Chuuya," you moan, carding one hand into his hair. "Make me cum. I wanna cum in your mouth," you whine.

He hums against you to acknowledge what he said, and he keeps building as much as he's able. His excellent strength and stamina allows him to keep working on you rapidly, never slowing down and losing any of the progress he worked to make on your impending orgasm.

You finally feel the tightening reach its peak, and you arch slightly, trying to push your hips up to meet his face even a millimetre more if possible, trying to get as close to the man creating your orgasm as possible.

You babble his name over and over, getting progressively louder and more slurred as your orgasm hits and washes over you, making your legs shake and your toes curl. You grab a fistful of his face, holding him in place as he works you through it, still keeping his pace with impressive skill. He lets you try to ride his face, taking what you want of what he gives you. Your climax happened so quickly after he started, your body going from no stimulation to so much in under 15 minutes. The quick change, the start of overstimulation has you gushing just a little bit of squirt onto Chuuya's fingers as you cum.

He lets you ride it out until you're satisfied, then he drastically slows down, withdraws his dripping fingers, and gives a final kiss or two to your clit.

"Delicious," he says, licking his lips and then his wrist and hand and fingers to clean up your juices. You whine, somewhat embarrassed still at him so brazenly excited about eating your cum and tasting your body. He just smirks up at you, not acknowledging it.

"You're not busy are you, pet? I could go for another round. You've got some squirt for me in there tonight."

"Only if you'll fuck me to sleep," you say, feigning an innocent voice and attitude, and Chuuya pounces up to grab you and effortlessly lift you over his shoulder.

"What kind of stupid fuckin' question is that?" he asks, carrying you out of your office and toward the bedroom. "Of course I will."

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

I'd like the job please 🫣

Can you do a Chuuya x fem reader where her bra can be shown from her white shirt?

pov: you request a simple spicy lil fic from me, but my manic brain is physically incapable of not giving it an entire backstory and plot and making it at least 4k+ words (thank you so much for this idea tho, it was super fun to write! ღ)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ My first attempt at Chuuya smut (and goddamn, do I love that angry lil man ★~(◡‿◡✿). New to the city, you're coerced into working for the PM after a drunken night out. Scared and now in the heart of one of Japan's most notorious criminal organization's headquarters, you decide to reclaim some of your power by ~*teasing the absolute fuck out of Chuuya Nakahara~*. 4.8k words. Porn with a plot. I can't even lie, this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet while writing, lemme know whatcha think. luv u ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you'd first moved to Yokohama 2 months ago, you had promised your parents that you'd be safe. That you'd find yourself a decent office job to afford you a lofty apartment and that you'd be settled in relatively quickly. You'd pictured yourself walking amongst tall buildings on your days off. Exploring the city with your coworkers on the weekends. Living instead of just existing in your small hometown.

You thought you had your future all mapped out and maybe you did, but those dreams of normalcy were all but destroyed the night you crossed paths with Koyo Ozaki.

She had noticed you from across the bar, quietly observing the way you'd been drinking by yourself all night. It was odd to see a girl with your beauty and lack of abilities so confidently roaming downtown alone. She wasn't sure if you were brave or naive, but the moment you took a seat next to her to thank her for the whiskey and coke she had ordered you, she realized you were the perfect blend of both.

She'd spent the next hour chatting you up, effortlessly coaxing information out of you without you realizing it. She'd offered you an administrative assistant role for the group she worked for, describing it as a "lucrative" and "underground" organization. You were in no position to say no, especially after spending the last month relentlessly applying to jobs with little to no luck.

You woke up the next day musing about silly things like fate and serendipity as you raided your closet for the perfect first day outfit. You felt like this was your big break. The first stop on the roadmap of adulthood that you'd created for yourself. You ironed a pair all black slacks, pairing it with a white-button up quarter-sleeve shirt, and your favorite suede Mary-Janes. Optimism swirled through your head as you eyed yourself in your bedroom mirror that night. You were determined to be so good at this job.

You showed up freshly showered and prepared when you arrived at the sleek, high-rise building. Ozaki waited for you out front with a rather intimidating dark-haired man who introduced himself as Mori, head of the fucking Port Mafia.

Your anxiety rose with each step you took behind them, quickly realizing that this was not the run-of-the-mill clerical job you had envisioned while hazily chatting with Ozaki over whiskey-neats. This was an underground criminal organization full of some of the strongest ability users in the world. You had absolutely no idea why you were here. Why you'd been selected, let alone trusted, to work alongside these people.

You were given your own small office, equipped with a bare desk and landline phone. Mori told you to stay put, explaining that you were to stay out of sight until further notice. You were essentially there as a cover-up.

Apparently, they'd been scouting for girls like you. New to town and completely clueless. They wanted to bring in a handful of these 'administrative assistants' to help keep up the illusion that this was just another ordinary building in the business district of Yokohama and nothing more.

Mori left you with a curt warning about the temperament of the other Mafia members and a haunting, "Welcome to the team." as he closed the door to your office and disappeared down the long corridor. Your heart was slamming into your chest, your anxiety growing the longer you sat. You were angry. Disappointed in yourself for being such an easy target.

You sat for at least an hour staring at the wall in existential dread, wondering what you'd done to end up here. Wondering what you were going to have to do to get out now that you were here. Even if it wasn't necessarily a "job", it still didn't seem like something you could just casually walk away from.

You were in the middle of the Port Mafia's headquarters and you were rightfully, terrified.

The sound of two muffled voices pulled you away from your thoughts while you froze in your chair, realizing that they were right outside your door.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?"

"No, that's really where they're keeping her. She's going to be a fulltime member."

"A member?" it was the first man again, his voice full of shameless snark and volume as he laughed at the idea. "A Mafia member with no ability? C'mon, Akutagawa. Even Mori isn't that stupid."

"There's going to be more, she's just the first to show up."

Tension crept along your spine when both voices came to a curious stop, one quietly scolding the other before the heavy wooden door began to creak open.

A pair of azure eyes stared back at you, disheveled shoulder-length red hair draping off of one shoulder as he mumbled, "Holy shit."

The taller of the two, draped in a long black coat, tried to pry him away, but he shrugged him off with an irritated. "Chill out, I just wanna introduce myself to her."

The dark-haired man scoffed and continued down the hallway while his ginger companion closed the door behind him, leaving just the two of you looking back at each other skeptically.

Despite his height, he had a powerful demeanor. A blend of apathy and cockiness that exuded off of him as he carefully made his way towards you. "So, you're the new girl, huh?"

Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked back at him, your words suddenly stuck in your throat as his foot made contact with your desk.

You managed a nod, remembering the way Mori had advised you not to engage with the other Mafia members, but what were you supposed to do when you were suddenly locked in a room with one?

"God, we really can't just have one normal day around here, can we?" He sighed, almost seeming embarrassed as his shoulders dropped and he leaned against your desk in the spot next to you. "Stealin' girls out of bars? Tch, the hell are they thinkin'?"

His opposition to his boss' plan made you relax a bit. It was the first time all day that you thought you might make it out of here okay.

He picked up on your apprehension rather quickly, taking his hat off and setting it down before extending a gloved hand out to you. "Chuuya." He said simply.

You stared at him for another moment or two before introducing yourself, trying but failing to mimic his nonchalant tone.

"Hey," He said, lightly nudging your foot with his, "You're gonna be alright. I'm sure this gig will only last for a couple of weeks until they move on to their next big, idiotic idea."

"You think so?" It was the first time all day that you felt like you could breathe.

"Trust me, Mori's plans are always changing. He'll probably cut you a fat check for hush money and then send you on your way sooner than later. Just lay low in the meantime, yeah?"

Your eyes were still locked as you nodded at him again, giving him a feeble, "Okay... Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." He smirked, pulling himself away from your desk.

You watched him pause just before exiting the room. He turned around to face you again, his gaze landing a bit lower than your eyes this time.

"And maybe uh -" If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that you saw a flash of red flare across his cheeks. "Maybe don't wear that bra with a white shirt next time."

Out of all of the anxiety and fear that you'd been drowning in over the last few hours, your choice of outfit had been the very last thing you'd considered worrying about until just now.

You looked down, noticing what he meant as you saw the dark, lacy fabric of your Victoria's not-so-secret peeking through the white of your blouse. Your tits were pushed perfectly together, nearly on full display through the sheerness of your shirt.

He flashed you another faint smirk before clicking the door shut, once again leaving you to your own crippling thoughts as your head dropped into your hands.

What an absolutely mortifying first day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few shifts were a blur.

You'd clock in. Sit for what felt like an eternity in your bleak little office. Leave mid-day to grab lunch at a cafe across the street. And then head home 9 hours later despite the fact that you’d hardly done anything.

You'd learned to bring in books and cross-stich patterns to keep yourself busy throughout the day instead of rotting away at your desk. It wasn't an ideal situation, but if Chuuya was right and there really was a big check waiting for you around the corner, you'd decided that it was worth it to see this through. Because no matter how nervous you got each morning, the painful truth was that you couldn’t afford to turn down easy money.

By the end of the week, you found yourself doing more than just sneaking in romance mangas to make the job more bearable though. You were doing everything you could to gain back even a semblance of power.

If you had to be here, you had decided that you were going to make it everyone's problem.

With the ginger's words still fresh in your mind, you made it a point to wear darker bras. Tighter blouses. Shorter skirts that barely covered your ass. It had almost become an inside joke with yourself at what a distraction you'd become to the Port Mafia. Maybe couldn’t make these men fear you, but you could certainly make them trip all over themselves any time you entered the building.

You'd hardly been able to keep a straight face yesterday afternoon when Akutagawa's coffee fell from his hands and cascaded around him after he saw you walking down the hall in black knee-high stockings. You'd finally managed to make everyone here as uncomfortable as they'd made you and it felt good.

You were half-way through the iced matcha you'd picked up on lunch, sitting with your feet propped up on your desk as you continued to embroider the word "fuck" in pretty, cursive letters next to a pink and yellow flower when a knock arrived at your door.

You quickly stashed the circular cross-stitch pad in one of the desk drawers and straightened your back as Tachihara poked his head into your office. "Yo, new girl. Nakahara wants to see you."

Your brows knitted together as you looked back at him in quiet confusion.

No one had ever requested to see you in the time that you'd been here. Even in your attempts to disrupt their daily tasks, they'd still not bothered to learn your name. But now... you were expected to go see Chuuya... in his office?

"Why?" It was the only question you could think to ask.

"Dunno," Tachihara shrugged. "but I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's kind of an asshole." And with that, you were once again left alone and anxious.

You took a breath, standing up to smooth down the fabric of your skirt before venturing down the hallway.

You did your best to push Tachihara's warning out of your head, reminding yourself of the kindness Chuuya had shown you on your first day while your heels clicked across the marbled floor.

Maybe he wanted to tell you that he'd talked to Mori and that your time with Port Mafia was finally up. Maybe he wanted to hand deliver the check you'd so desperately been waiting for. Maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing. Whatever it was, you were holding onto hope that there wouldn't be any more bad news.

You let out a sharp exhale as you rounded the corner and found yourself standing in front of his office. You gave the door a light tap, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve when he finally appeared.

His eyes traced over you slowly, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he counted not one, not two, but three undone buttons along your blouse that revealed the deep-purple push-up bra decorating your chest.

"Get in here."

His tone was clipped, dripping with what felt like vexation as he closed the door behind you.

His office was much bigger than yours, adorned with high-rise windows that overlooked the city and pristine black marble flooring that matched his leather furniture. The room was dark, just barely lit by a lamp on his desk. You wondered how it was possible for him to get any paperwork done in here but then promptly realized that with his ranking, paperwork was probably far beneath his paygrade.

Still not entirely sure how to approach the situation, you hesitantly took a seat on the over-sized armchair across from his desk.

"Quick question," he said, standing in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, his voice still riddled with irritation. "What does the phrase 'lay low' mean to you? Because I can tell you right now, this ain't fuckin' it."

Your pupils widened, his words hanging heavily in the space between you.

Your mouth opened and then closed again, too focused on the way he was staring at you to form a proper response.

"Is it -" you wavered, mustering up all the courage you had to try and play this off as innocent confusion rather than what it actually was: sarcasm. "Is it my outfit?"

If looks could kill, you would've been 6 feet under.

Chuuya's eyes darkened, a flustered hand rubbing feverishly over his face as he struggled to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if you were trying to piss him off or if you were just genuinely the dumbest girl he'd ever come in contact with.

"Yes," He said with all the restraint he could possibly manage, his teeth nearly grinding together with each syllable. “The outfits are getting out of hand. You've gotta stop."

You were playing a dangerous game, but you were slowly starting to realize that you were... winning.

"What's wrong with them?" you asked, pretending to cover your chest in embarrassment.

You wanted to hear him explain it. Hear him tell you in his own words that you couldn't wear short skirts anymore because it was causing too many unexpected erections around headquarters.

"I -" The poor redhead looked as though he was going to have an aneurysm if you kept this up much longer.

He snapped his eyes shut and let out a frustrated exhale, his hand now bawled into a fist at his side. "Listen, a lot of the guys around here have... noticed you, okay? And I can't take one more day of hearin' those fuckin' assholes talk about how they caught a glimpse of your ass in the break room. Got it? I'll buy you some new clothes if I have to. Just please, no more shirts like this, alright?"

He was actually bargaining with you. Entering the third stage of grief as he tried so hard to keep his cool. To keep his eyes locked with yours and nowhere else. To explain all of this in the nicest way he could.

It was in that moment that you realized where the real source of his trepidation was coming from.

Hearing his coworkers ogle over you was probably annoying for sure, but the more damning, infuriating fact of the matter was that he was ogling over you too. And he was fucking tired of not being able to get any work done when he knew that you were right down the hall. He was pissed that he had to come into his office every morning and lock the door just so he could jerk himself off to the idea of you.

He was in so many words begging you to stop because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take seeing so much of your body without being able bend you over his desk like he did in his mid-morning daydreams.

He was losing - both his resolve and this game at an alarming rate.

"Hmm," you hummed, toying with a pen you'd found wedged between the cushion of his chair. "Well, I'm sorry. I just like feeling pretty before I come in. I didn't know it was creating such a problem for everyone."

The wheels in Chuuya's head were spinning.

Emotions weren't his strong suit and doing these mental gymnastics with you was making him need a cigarette.

"It's -" he sighed, groaning as he forced himself to backpedal. "It's not your fault. I mean, you do look pretty, y'know. It's just... distracting, is all."

It was hard to hide your smirk.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was a bit distracting himself, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.

"Okay, well," you conceded as you began to stand up. "I’ll wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow then.” You shot him a small smile as you got to your feet, "Promise."

He looked marginally relieved by your understanding. "Sounds good." He huffed, rubbing at the back of his neck while following behind you as you made your way out of his office.

But just before you reached the door, you accidentally dropped the pen you'd been fidgeting with. Bending over without warning so that your ass was right in front of him, peaking out of your skirt as he walked straight into you, his hips suddenly meeting yours.

You thought he might actually kill you this time with the guttural noise of frustration that escaped him.

He grabbed you by your shoulders the second you were upright again, spinning you around so that you were forced to face him.

“Okay, seriously." He said between gritted teeth. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched the unfettered anger flicker through his blue eyes.

It was a stupid move, you knew that before you did it, but you didn't expect it to draw this much of reaction out of him. His restraint was lost. Composure long gone while he waited for you to say something with his face mere inches away from yours.

"Sorry," You lied, "It slipped out of my hand so I -"

"Bullshit." He snarled. "Enough with this innocent act. What do you want out of this, huh? For every guy in Port Mafia to want to fuck you? Is that what you're gettin' at here?"

"No." Your head shook before you even had time to think about what you were about to say. "Not everyone..." Your eyes were still glued to his. "Just you."

You didn't know what you were doing anymore or where all of this recent shamelessness had come from, but there was something about being here that made you feel like you could do anything. Be anyone. You weren't sure if it was the power or the crime or the ungodly amount of money that Port Mafia was raking in, but the collective feeling of chaos that these walls housed was finally latching onto you too.

You didn't even flinch when you said it, instead continued to stare at him unapologetically, noting the way his grip had tightened around your shoulder the longer he looked back at you.

"What?"

If the wheels in his head had been spinning before, they were now fully off the ground, exploding into the air as his gaze drifted along your face. Searching intently to make sure you were actually being serious this time before he went any further.

"You really want me to fuck you that bad?" he asked, the warmth of his mouth now ghosting yours.

The question went straight to your center, wetness seeping between your legs as you nodded back at him.

Truth be told, your midmorning fantasies while cross-stitching the last few days hadn't been much different than his.

The gravity manipulator's fingers were suddenly tangled into your hair, his body forcing your back against the door while his lips collided with yours.

"Y'know you could've just asked instead of doin' all this bratty shit, right?"

His mouth was warm, his movements somehow urgent and careful at the same time as his hands wandered along your curves.

You smiled against his lips, letting out a breathy, "I'm sorry." as his palm began to graze the inside of your thigh.

"No, you're not." He smirked, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. "But you will be."

You let out a small whimper as he placed his free hand under your chin, moving your head to the side so that he could continue his descendent down your neck.

His leg wedged itself between yours, brushing against your clit while his mouth worked along your collarbone.

You were too lost in the feeling of it all to realize that he'd been leaving a trail of meticulously placed bites down the nape of your neck. Bruises in the shape of his mouth that he knew everyone would see.

"Chuuya -" you tried to protest, but it was more of a moan than an objection. "You - fuck, you can't -" You grinded helplessly against the firmness of his leg. Hips rocking back and forth, desperately trying to gain friction while he kept on nipping away at you.

"What's wrong, babe?" he purred against your sensitive skin. "You're wearin' a turtleneck tomorrow anyway, remember?" his breath fanned across your chest as he ripped the remaining buttons off of your shirt. A gloved hand palming at your chest, sliding your bra down so that your tits were fully exposed for him before you felt his tongue glide across your nipple.

Tachihara was right, he was kind of an asshole. But for some terrible reason, you were living for it. Almost embarrassed by how bad you wanted him. Wriggling against him and riding his leg. Whining while you let him leave visible marks on you and destroy the only clothing you had.

"C'mere." He pulled his head away from your chest, swiftly grabbing you by the arm and leading you back to his desk. He picked you up with ease, shoving a binder aside to sit you down in front of him.

"Spread your legs for me." His voice was heady, eyes glossed over with lust as you complied with his demands.

He held his hand up to his mouth, removing his black glove with his teeth before pushing your skirt up and sliding your underwear to the side. He bent over slightly, running two rough fingers along your clit as he watched your nails dig into the edge of his desk.

"Fuck," he groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you. He'd barely done anything and you were already soaked, your pussy practically throbbing for him. “You really do want me that bad, huh?"

“T - told you.” You whimpered, your head tilting back as he drew slow, blissful circles around you.

He kept up the same pace, basking in the way you were so easily falling apart for him.

“Chuuya, please.”

A smirk tugged viciously at the corner of his mouth, slipping a finger into you this time as your walls swallowed him. "Please what, baby?"

You may have had him in the first half, but you were now on the losing end of this game. Forgetting how to speak altogether as you watched him part your legs even further, bending all the way down to rest his head between your thighs.

You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressing against you. The heavenly lines he was drawing uppp and downnn your center with his middle finger still sliding in and out of you. He was generous in the way he handled you, making sure he didn't miss a single spot. Lapping and slurping up every bit of cum he could as he added in another finger. Groaning against you the louder you got for him.

The only word you seemed to be able to remember was his name, repeating it over and over while your nails lodged deeper into his mahogany desk and your body shamelessly grinded against the warmth of his mouth.

You were in a delirious daze, losing yourself completely to the way he was devouring you.

He could feel you getting close too, noting the frantic rhythm of your hips. The gorgeous, fucked-out noises you were making for him. The death grip your walls suddenly had on him. He knew you were right there, right where he wanted you.

"Chuuya, 'm - I -"

Your legs were locking around his head, shaking uncontrollably as your hand ran through his hair.

He'd never admit it, but he almost could've came at the sounds you were making alone. The pouty way that you called out his name each time his fingers plunged into you was almost enough to drive him over the edge. You were so pathetic and adorable and he was determined to make everyone in Port Mafia hear just how needy you were for him.

As much as he wanted to edge you for what you'd done to him, as much as he wanted to make you beg and plead for him to let you cum, he couldn't fucking pull himself away from you. He was just as lost as you were, drowning in your cunt and not at all wanting to be saved.

His tongue didn’t leave you until he was absolutely sure that you'd ridden out every last wave of your orgasm, still pumping his digits in and out of you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He came up for air with an exhausted smile, wordlessly coaxing your lips apart with his thumb before bringing the two fingers he had fucked you with into your mouth. Letting you clean off the blend of slick and salvia the two of you had created together.

"See how fucking good you taste?" he panted. "I think this is gonna be a real problem for both of us."

An enamored shade of pink brushed across your cheeks as he dropped down onto the chair across from you, running a tired hand through his hair.

"At least I won't be here much longer, right?" You said, playfully kicking his leg with your foot.

"Oh yeah," he smirked. "That actually reminds me..." Your eyes widened as he shifted around to dig an envelope out of his pocket. "Mori wanted me to give this to you."

Your hands trembled, opening it as delicately as you could to make sure you didn't rip anything when a check for 1,490,200 yen fell into your lap.

"Think that'll be enough to buy yourself a shirt that fits?"

Your eyes snapped towards him in disbelief, your pulse ringing through your ears as you tried to process that you'd somehow made this amount of money in a little over a week.

"Is this -" You stammered, thinking back to what he had told you when you first met. "Is this like a severance check then? ...Hush money or whatever?"

"Tragically, no. Mori wants you to stay."

Your hand instinctively flew up to your neck, covering the love-bites that the redhead had left you with, horrified at the realization that everyone was going to see them. Even more horrified at the fact that they had probably heard how you’d gotten them.

"What?"

"Yeah, he said somethin' about you how you've been 'boosting the morale' around here."

Your head felt like it was going to explode.

You had not only been marked by Chuuya Nakahara, but you were now being asked to stay in Port Mafia.

You couldn't decide which was worse.

"So... that means..."

"Yep. We'll be seein' a lot more of each other." He confirmed while checking his watch. "But hey, you better get outta here, Rando and I have a meeting in 10 minutes."

You looked down at your lack of clothing, the spit and cum that was still stuck to your skirt, the obscenely noticeable bruises that he'd so proudly gifted you with.

"Give me your shirt." you demanded.

"Nah."

The grin he shot you was so cocky, so vile, so... hot.

"Chuuya." You whisper-shouted, biting back your own stupid smile. "Be so fucking for real right now, I can’t go out there like this.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you put on that skimpy-ass outfit I guess.” He shrugged.

You hopped off his desk, straddling him in his chair as you forcefully began to undo the buttons along his collar.

The room filled with suppressed laughter, neither one of you able to contain it anymore as he finally conceded, wrestling you off of him. "Alright, alright, chill. I have extras in here, hang on."

You both stood up, your eyes locked on him while he walked over to an expensive looking armoire in the corner of the room.

He pulled a white shirt that resembled the one you were wearing earlier off of a hanger and brought it over to you, guiding your arms up so that he could put it on.

His movements were calculated, almost thoughtful as he dressed you, adjusting it so that it covered up most of the damage he'd done.

"There." He said, double-checking his work. "Now get out of here before I decide to rip that one off of you too.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Fluff on fluff with fluff

puppy love (iii)

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

I didn't mean for this to be so long. I'm so sorry. I just really like writing about Chuuya interacting with dogs. Again I apologize (but I hope you enjoy)! (And the panel comes from the manga Kimi ni Todoke!)

warnings: fem reader, pet names (doll, lady, etc.), mentions of pet abandonment in the past, mentions of stray dogs, slight angst towards the end, a bit of mutual pining (but they don't know it yet bc they're kinda dumb) || words: 5.5k

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Chuuya has never known himself to be nervous.

Wary? Sure. Itching to get something over with? Absolutely. Pissed off beyond all belief? Of fucking course—he’s put up with Dazai for all these years, hasn’t he?

But he’s never felt quite like this. Standing in front of the shabby little shop you call home, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fingers twitching in his pockets—not to mention the swarm of butterflies that’s taken refuge in the depths of his stomach. His throat is unnaturally dry, beads of sweat gathering at his forehead.

Why the fuck is he so damn nervous?

He has no reason to be. He knows no danger lies beyond that door, none whatsoever. And even if there was a fight waiting for him, he’d come out on top in two seconds flat.

Nothing to worry about. It’s just you and those dogs you keep yammering on about.

(Maybe that’s why he’s so worried.)

He shakes his head and knocks on the door. You’ve already turned the lights down, placed the closed sign right there in the window, and yet he can hear you scurrying on the other side of the door. A few seconds later it swings open, and the sight of your smile immediately puts him at ease.

“I’m so glad you could make it!”

He steps inside as you shut the door behind him. One of the lights flicker on, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.

This is the first time he’s actually seen your shop, and he’s pleased to find it looks much more comfy than the outside. A bit small in size, but the selection of pet supplies is plenty enough to brag about. Different brands of dog and cat food, assortments of leashes and collars in all kinds of colors, rows of dog toys and treats lining the counters. The floors are clean, the blinds are shut, and everything seems to be in order.

But not a single pup in sight.

“You want anything to drink?” You’re already motioning him to follow you behind the counter, towards the back of the store. “It’s alright, I’m the only one here. I won’t tell anyone,” you add with a wink.

Fuck, more annoying butterflies.

“That’s fine, I’m alright.” He sheds his overcoat and hangs it on one of the hooks by the door, but leaves the hat perched on his head. Luckily you don’t question it.

“They’re in the back, follow me.”

There’s a spring in your step as you lead him through the back hall, through a set of double doors and into what looks like a lounge of some kind. A slightly-worn couch rests by the corner, as well as a table with only a couple chairs to keep it company. But he doesn’t have time to survey the whole room before you disappear through another door, and he picks up the pace just to keep up with you.

Finally you come to a stop, resting a hand on the doorknob and throwing him a smile over your shoulder.

“They’re inside. You ready?”

He swallows the collection of cobwebs in his mouth. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

But you don’t open the door. Don’t even move an inch. You just stare at him with those big eyes, those pretty eyes, as your lips shift into a frown.

“…What?” Did he do something wrong? Did he fuck this up already?

“You don’t have to be nervous, you know.”

“I’m not nervous,” he says a little too quickly, and he bites back a groan when you give him a knowing smile.

“It’s alright, they can be a lot to handle sometimes. But they’ll love you, I promise! Besides, you’ve met three of them already. The other five are gonna be all over you when they see you!”

Two, he corrects you internally. He’s met two of them so far, the third one keeps his distance and fucking glares at him. Hardly a win in his book. Are any of the others like that? Or is it just that one who’s got a stick up his ass?

No, don’t be like that. It’s not the dog’s fault it doesn’t like people; hell, Chuuya himself doesn’t even like people all that much. The nerves are just making him feel on edge.

Fuck it, he’s not nervous!

“They won’t bite,” you add with a laugh, but he still remains locked in his spot behind you. So you hold out a hand and tilt your head, reminding him of the night he first met you. So much like that one dog you have, the shiba pup. “They love meeting new people. And if Kotaro already loves you”—oh yeah, that’s the shiba’s name—“then the others are sure to follow his lead.”

The way you’re looking at him, a gentle look in your eyes, hand outstretched hopefully in his direction…

It’s no big deal. It’s just a bunch of dogs. He loves dogs, right? Never met a dog he didn’t like! They just happen to belong to you, and you’ve…just got a lot of them. Nothing too major, he’s dealt with much worse in his life.

But that’s just it. They’re your dogs, not just stray animals he crosses paths with on the street. They mean the absolute world to you, he knows it in the way you talk about them. You show it in the way you clutch Kotaro to your chest, pressing kiss after kiss to his furry head. The way your eyes light up at even the slightest mention of one of your dogs, how you’re so eager to brag about the new trick they learned or what they did at the park earlier that day.

You love them with everything your heart has to offer…and Chuuya just hopes he’s good enough to give them the attention and adoration they deserve.

A heavy sigh passes through his lips; slowly but surely, he places his gloved hand in yours. “No biting?” he asks with a smile.

“No biting, I promise! Told them to be on their best behavior today, too.”

It’s only when he nods that you turn the knob and push the door open. You all but pull him in after you, all smiles and laughter and—

Holy shit, that’s a lot of fucking dogs!

All different breeds rush him at once, Kotaro taking the lead and nearly barreling right into Chuuya’s knee. The beagle follows soon after, accompanied by a corgi. (At least he thinks it’s a corgi.) Two little Chihuahuas are yipping and running circles around his ankles. A dachshund paws at the tip of his shoe before latching her teeth around it.

“Hey, hey, come on! Be nice!”

You clap your hands and wave your arms to shoo them away. Just like clockwork the dogs turn their attention on you, a blur of wagging tails and drool and perked-up ears. You scoop up the pair of Chihuahuas, holding one in each arm, and gently nudge the dachshund away from Chuuya with your leg.

Over your shoulder he can see the last two dogs: the grumpy bulldog he met a few days ago (the one who looks like he hates his guts), and a schnauzer whose tail hasn’t stopped wagging since he walked in the room. There’s a slight limp in the schnauzer’s step; it’s favoring its front left paw, but he can’t see any visible wound on the skin. Placing the twin Chihuahuas down, you give the schnauzer a scratch under its bearded chin before pressing a kiss to its head.

“Sit!”

About half the dogs listen, Kotaro not being one of them. He’s still busy sniffing the area around Chuuya, rubbing against his leg like a cat. You snap your fingers over and over, huffing when the dog blatantly ignores you. Finally you stand up and scoop him up in your arms, placing him down in between the dachshund and the beagle.

“You alright?” Your smile is a bit wobbly. Are you just as nervous as he is?

For some reason the thought quells the storm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“I’m fine, doll. Nothin’ I can’t handle,” he adds with a smirk, and you quickly avert your eyes back down to the dogs.

You sink down to sit on the floor, patting the space beside you. Unfortunately Kotaro takes that as his cue to move—even before Chuuya can settle himself down, he’s wrestling a rowdy shiba pup off his lap.

But when one dog goes, the rest of the pack is sure to follow. And suddenly the two of you are swamped in furry bodies and swishing tails and scrabbling paws. One puppy on your lap, another in your arms, and one nosing at your pocket in hopes of finding a snack or two.

“This one’s Sora,” you say, holding the corgi up to him. Chuuya can’t even speak, too captivated by the pup’s sweet brown eyes. “He’s a cutie, isn’t he? And he’s—oh, hey! I would never forget about you, Ocha, don’t worry!” You reach over to pat the dachshund right between her ears. “This little girl is Ocha. She can get a bit jealous but she’s an absolute sweetheart! Oh! And these two are Yuki and Yui! They’re…the troublemakers of the pack!”

Are those the Chihuahuas? One of them is chomping on your shoelaces, while the other one is pawing at his pant leg. The corgi in his arms lets out a soft whine; immediately he brings it closer, letting it sniff his hand and lick his face.

“This is Haru,” you continue, motioning to the schnauzer. “She’s the newest one here. She’s not scared of humans though, so you can pet her all you like! Just let her approach you first. Oh, and be mindful of her paw, she’s recovering from a broken leg. Poor thing could barely walk when we found her! But she’s healing up so nicely…aren’t you, pretty girl?”

The dog lets out a whine, but it almost sounds happy. Her ears are pressed against her head and her stubby tail’s wagging a mile a minute.

Reaching around the corgi’s head—is it Sora? Sounds about right—he holds out a hand to the schnauzer. The dog, Haru, gives a cautious sniff, balances herself on her good paw, and takes another step closer. You’re practically bouncing in your seat as Haru wags her tail and lets Chuuya pet her.

“Aww, she likes you!”

And thank fuck for that; there’s nothing more depressing than a dog that doesn’t like you.

Like that one—he gives the bulldog a sideways glance, and the dog huffs and turns his head.

The beagle nearly trips over his own paws trying to reach Chuuya’s face. The tiny Chihuahua chewing on your shoelaces manages to untie them, and you scramble to grab the string from its mouth with a shriek.

Kotaro, Pochi, Sora… Haru, right?

Something nudges his elbow. It’s the little dachshund, staring up at him with big brown eyes, clutching a small stuffed toy in her mouth. She nudges him again, giving a whine and shaking her whole backside in the air.

“What is it, huh?” Fuck, what’s that one’s name again? “You wanna play, is that it?”

The dog yips and bats him with her paw. But when he grabs at the toy, she gives a hard tug and nearly rips the damn thing right out of his grasp.

“I can’t throw it if you don’t give it to me!”

She doesn’t give up, and neither does he. You laugh at the awkward tug of war between the two, all the while Sora is curled up in Chuuya’s other arm. One of the Chihuahuas crawls into his lap, throwing off his balance just enough for the dachshund to wrench the toy out of his hand.

“Hey, wait—”

It’s a three-way assault: Kotaro plants his paws right on his shoulders, Sora leans up to lick his face, and the dachshund—Ocha, that’s it!—practically throws herself right into his lap, all but knocking the poor Chihuahua out of the way. The poor pup tumbles to the floor, but you’re quick to scoop him up before he can whine.

“Sorry, Yuki,” you manage through your laughter, “Ocha didn’t mean it, I promise. …And sorry, Chuuya! Usually they’re not this rowdy!”

But he finds himself laughing along with you—of course, you apologize to the dog first—even when Kotaro’s weight knocks him over onto the floor. He’s on his back know, knees bent with the beagle ducking beneath them, and the tiny corgi curled up on his chest. Kotaro’s wet nose is pressed against his cheek, Ocha’s paw nudging his shoulder, and oh shit, now the schnauzer’s in on the fun—

“Come on, guys, let him breathe for a bit!” Your voice reaches him through the mess of fur and paws; he sees your hand snake around the dachshund’s body to pull her away. “No doggy pile today!”

Not that he has a problem with that. If this is what you have to deal with every day, living with all these dogs doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Get over here, you little—”

He rolls over, propping himself on his hands and knees, still supporting the corgi against his chest. Kotaro barks and shakes his bottom in the air; the silly look on his face just screams “play with me, damn it!”

Pochi plants his paws onto his shoulders, while Ocha ambushes him from the front. Despite favoring her paw, Haru is quick to chime in with a yip and plants a sweet kiss right on Chuuya’s cheek.

The smug look on Kotaro’s face says it all: You’re surrounded. Give up already, feeble human!

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!”

You’re on your feet now, shooing the dogs away, cringing at the rumpled fabric of Chuuya’s pristine jacket and vest. The flecks of dog hair sprinkled along his dress pants. Not to mention the trails of drool and doggy slobber on his face—

“Come on, be nice.” You slide Pochi out of the way and gently pick up Haru in your arms. Chuuya catches the bulldog glaring at him from across the room; the little shit hasn’t even moved in the last ten minutes or so. “Give him some space, Kotaro!”

Chuuya manages to lift himself to his knees. The little corgi in his arms lifts his head and kisses his chin, his stubby little tail thumping against his hand. A laugh bubbles up in his throat.

“Lovable little shit, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, Sora’s a cuddle bug when he wants to be!” Once the dogs give you some space, you hold out a hand to help him up. “He’s also a sleepy little guy. Gets random bursts of energy but he’s always the first to fall asleep.”

His gloved hand slides against your own, and you pull him to his feet with a grunt. Immediately Haru and Ocha start whining and pawing at his pant leg. Batting their eyes at Sora, all snuggled up against the man’s chest.

“Are they usually just clingy, or is it just me?” he asks with a smile, and you giggle behind your hands.

“Must be you! They’re friendly, but never that friendly to people they’ve just met… They must really like you a lot.”

(Maybe it’s his roguish charm and handsome features. If so, you can’t really blame them.)

“Anyway, looks like they’ve settled down a bit.” He glances at the two pups nestled in your arms; the twin Chihuahuas are already fast asleep, snoring softly with their heads against your chest. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the shop.”

The “rest of the shop” isn’t really part of the shop at all; Chuuya learns quickly that it’s just the half-finished room where the dogs live, with the stairs leading up to your apartment just off to the side. He stops himself before he can wonder what’s up there, though.

Not the kind of thoughts he should be having about someone he’s only just yet. And about a lady, no less.

And now the dogs are safe and sound, sprawled out in their individual beds and tucked away for the night. The Chihuahuas sleep in a tiny bed between a mess of blankets, with a dozing Pochi and Ocha on either side of them. Sora is curled up into Haru’s side; when his paw twitches gently, Chuuya thinks he can feel his chest get all warm and fuzzy.

So fucking adorable, aren’t they?

The only ones still awake are Kotaro (who’s made his home at his feet, for some unknown reason), and Shiro, who’s planted his ass firmly on your shoes. Still glaring at him with his bottom teeth jutting out, only wagging his tail when you reach down to pet him.

The two of you are leaning against the counter, side by side, holding a pair of mugs in your hands. Might be too late in the night for it, but holy shit do you make a great cup of coffee.

“I’m glad you think so,” you chuckle, careful to keep your voice low. Don’t wanna wake the babies, right? “I don’t really like it, I kinda have to drink it for these little guys, though. Keeps me going the entire day!”

He looks at you then, really looks at you as you take another sip of your drink. Your frazzled hair, the bags under your eyes, the slight heave in your chest—and the familiar warm glow in your eyes as they sweep over the eight resting dogs.

Running a shop, catering to customers, taking care of eight individual dogs, all with different personalities and needs of their own… No wonder you look so drained. You look like you could sleep for a week straight, and then some with that look in your eye.

He clears his throat and averts his gaze before you can catch him. “You said she’s the newest one, right?” He motions to Haru with a hand, snickering as she snuggles deeper into her little makeshift bed. “How long have you had her?”

“Only a couple weeks.” You place your mug down and sweep a hand through your hair. “We found her wandering around the streets one night—well, Kotaro found her, really. Poor girl was digging through the trash and limping so badly! We took her to the vet right away, fixed up her leg so she could walk again. She had a collar but when we tried calling the owners there was no answer.”

Your hands suddenly curl around the edge of the counter. Nails biting into the surface, teeth clenched and eyes wild with fire. Chuuya stops himself from reaching out to you, instead tightening his grip on his mug and taking another sip.

“They wouldn’t answer our calls, and when the vet stopped by their place he realized they’d moved… Didn’t even have the sense to bring her to a shelter first. Just up and left her, like she didn’t even matter.”

Such a sweet dog, so kind and gentle, with her favored paw resting so nicely on the blankets… Little puffs of air escaping through her nose, brushing against the corgi’s fluffy head.

And suddenly he wants to shatter the mug in his hand. The thought of leaving a mess on your floor is enough to keep him at bay, but the white-hot fury is still blazing through his veins.

How could someone treat such an innocent animal like that?

He wouldn’t have guessed it, with how friendly she had been with him earlier. Eager to play and get to know him, licking at his face and wagging her cute little tail. And extremely loyal from what he’s seen so far, with the way she looks at you and responds to your voice. What kind of dumbass would let go of such a perfect companion?

“…Are they all street dogs?” His voice is strained, but his eyes are gentle when they meet your own. “Abandoned, I mean?”

“No, not all of them. This one,” you lean down to rub Shiro’s chest, “I knew his old owner. He was moving away and he couldn’t take Shiro with him. He used to work at the shop, that’s why he asked me. Sometimes I think he still misses him.”

That explains why the dog’s such a hard-ass. But he can’t find it in himself to blame him. Chuuya knows a thing or two about losing people he cares about.

“Pochi and Sora were hanging around the shop before I took them in. At first I thought they were cats, but then I heard barking one night and knew I had to bring them in.” That familiar smile is back on your face as you gush about your puppies. “Ocha? I found her while coming home from a friend’s house, in a thunderstorm of all things! Now she doesn’t like storms, but show me a dog that does!”

You slide your mug further away before lifting yourself onto the edge. Only when you pat the space beside you does Chuuya do the same, careful not to spill what little coffee he has left in his own mug.

“The twins, Yuki and Yui,” you point to the tiny Chihuahuas in the center, “…I don’t know where they came from, honestly. I just opened the door one day and they were there. Right on the doorstep, practically newborn, no note or anything. I don’t even know what happened to their mother.”

Shiro yawns and settles down at the base of the counter, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Meanwhile Kotaro turns his attention to Chuuya, whining until the man caves in and scratches behind his ear.

“What about this one?”

“Oh, Kotaro? Former shelter dog, the last one to be adopted before they closed down! No one else wanted to deal with his little troublesome ass, so I volunteered.”

And the smug little shit looks so proud of himself, too. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, tail swishing from side to side, stirring up the mess of dog hair already on the floor.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. The dogs are sleeping, Kotaro’s relishing in all the extra attention, and for once, the bulldog Shiro isn’t even growling at him. Eventually he finishes off his coffee, and you’re quick to take it to rinse it in the sink with your own.

“Hey, Chuuya? Can I ask you something real quick?”

He glances up from Kotaro for a split second. It’s easier to pet him from the ground rather than the counter, so he hops off and kneels down to the dog’s level. His gloves are gonna be covered in dog fur once he’s done.

“What is it?”

Another bout of silence. Your back is turned to him, still hunched over the sink, despite the mugs already drying in the rack next to it. Kotaro paws at his knee, silently begging for another round of pats.

“…You’re part of the Port Mafia, aren’t you?”

Every nerve in his body screams at him to run. No, to fight. Fight and fucking win, just as he’s always had to do. Eliminate the threat. Prove your strength.

It’s like a switch goes off in his brain. But he’s not the only one; Shiro’s head lifts off the ground at lightning speed, his lip curled to show more than just that row of bottom teeth. Kotaro stiffens as soon as Chuuya’s hand retreats, his huge eyes boring right through him.

You’re still glued to your spot at the sink, not even daring to move an inch.

The message is clear from the dogs. Touch her and you die.

He swallows the mess of cobwebs in his throat as he slowly rises to his feet. Kotaro and Shiro keep their eyes trained on him; out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pochi and Ocha stirring awake, too.

Insanely loyal dogs, aren’t they?

“…It’s alright if you are,” you spit out, still staring at the sink in front of you. “I promise I won’t tell anyone! It’s just… I’ve, ah, been wondering about it…for a few days now, and I just thought…”

The sigh he lets out sends a shiver down your spine. He’s careful as he makes his way towards you, and for some reason, Shiro lets him without taking a chunk out of his leg.

“…How’d you find out?”

He’s trying not to sound intimidating. He’s not angry, far from it actually. He knows you and your little pack of pups is no real threat to the mafia. (Although, the image of you storming HQ with a band of street dogs is strangely entertaining to him.) Sooner or later, you would have questions of your own about him. He just didn’t think it would be this soon.

But that horrible feeling from earlier is fluttering around in his chest. The same one that makes his palms slick with sweat inside his gloves, the one that sends his heart smashing against his ribcage.

Is he ashamed? Absolutely not; the mafia has always been a part of him, and it always will be until the day he dies.

Maybe the thought of you running away, too scared of what he is—and taking your little pack with you—is sending him in such a frenzy.

“I’ve…had my suspicions,” you start quietly. Slowly you turn around, keeping your back against the sink. Chuuya stands a few feet away from you, forcing his hands back into his pockets. “For a couple days, now. Maybe even more… I just wanted to be sure before I started suspecting anything…”

Dangerous? He fills in the blank with a swallow.

“…’M not gonna hurt you, ya know.”

“I know! I know… Believe it or not, I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with the mafia. This isn’t exactly a nice area of Yokohama to begin with.”

That raises the hair on the back of his neck. Who did you come across? Surely someone like Akutagawa or Tachihara couldn’t be bothered with a simple pet shop owner. A simple grunt then, perhaps? He can’t imagine why they would make themselves known to an innocent civilian like you.

Did they threaten you? Were you caught in the crossfire? Thrown in the middle of a turf war? Every possibility sends another wave of heat throughout his body.

“Honestly, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” There’s an awkward chuckle on your end. “I only ever see you at night. You’re rich as hell, I can tell by the way you carry yourself. Only one kind of job around here could get you that kind of outfit, and all those fancy wines you like to talk about. Oh, and you kinda dress like a stereotypical mafioso, too… Not that it’s a bad thing!” you add quickly, holding up your hands. “I like it! Makes you look…good, I guess? No, not just good… Maybe handsome? Ah, I-I mean—”

You stumble over your words, burying your face in your hands when none of them come out right. That’s when Kotaro trots over to you, circling your feet before taking a seat right in front of you. Shiro stays right in his spot, eyes glued on Chuuya…but at least he’s not growling at him anymore.

Chuuya blinks. And then blinks again.

…You think he’s handsome?

He clears his throat—no time to get all distracted over a few simple words from a pretty girl. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, doll. I promise, the Port Mafia wants nothing to do with your little…pack of dogs.”

But he does.

As horrible as it sounds, he wants everything to do with you and your little family of puppies.

“It’s okay.” You wrap your arms around your midsection, finally meeting his eyes with a shaky smile. “It’s just…kind of a lot to take in… Sorry…”

No, he gets it. He could barely believe it himself, after joining the mafia years ago.

“…You ain’t scared?” he asks, despite his gut telling him to shut the fuck up already.

But you shake your head, and suddenly he finds himself frowning.

“A bit too trusting, don’t ya think?”

“Maybe.” Your smile becomes a bit stronger now. “But the dogs seem to like you, so that’s enough for me.”

His jaw nearly drops to the floor; he can feel the coffee from earlier swirling around in his stomach.

Are you fucking serious?

“I know it sounds silly, but it’s true!” You must’ve seen the look on his face; you’re starting to look a bit sheepish yourself, but you continue nonetheless. “Dogs have a great sense for this kind of thing. They can tell when a person has good or bad intentions. Pick the rotten apples from the rest of the bunch, you know? And they’re all pretty easy-going around you. So if they’re not scared of you, then I’m not either.”

Well sure, it would make sense if you were a fucking child. But placing all your trust in a bunch of dogs, no matter how loyal and protective it may be… It doesn’t sit right with him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“But I am.”

“What if I hurt you?” Even saying the words out loud make him feel sick. “You really think they would’ve warned you?”

“Yeah, they started growling at you right away, didn’t they?”

“What if it was someone else? Someone other than me?”

“I trust them. I protect them, they protect me.”

“You can’t always be sure of that, doll.”

He’s stepping closer to you, and for whatever reason Kotaro and Shiro allow him to. Until he’s face to face with you, so close you can count the row of freckles splashed across his nose.

But you’re still smiling. In fact, you look more comfortable right now in front of him than you have all night. Almost like you’ve totally forgotten about the whole Port Mafia thing.

“It all comes down to intentions. Believe it or not, they’ve saved my ass a few times before. Especially Shiro; more than once he’s kept a shady person away from me, or pulled me away from a dangerous situation. It sounds weird, but I trust them with my life. Just as they trust me with theirs.”

Words fail him in that moment; he opens his mouth, and they die right there on his tongue. On one hand, what you’re saying does make sense, but it also doesn’t, and he’s not sure which one to believe.

He knew you were close to your dogs. Treated them just as you would your own children. He just didn’t realize you put such a great amount of trust in their hands—well, paws.

Despite their smaller size and friendly natures, they did jump to your defense when they suspected you might be in danger. Shiro and Kotaro standing between you two, a protective barrier of claws and teeth, with Ocha and Pochi standing on guard.

A dog’s love for his human knows no bounds.

“Trust me, if they sensed you had any bad intentions, or wanted to hurt me in any way, they wouldn’t have let you come into the shop like you did. Kotaro wouldn’t have warmed up to you right away. Believe me when I say this, Chuuya, the pups love you.”

He grits his teeth, his gaze falling to the floor between you. “…Not the bulldog.”

Your laugh is a song to his ears, and when you reach for his gloved hand, he thinks his heart might burst right there in his chest.

“Don’t worry about Shiro. He’s stingy with everyone at first! To be honest, if he really didn’t like you, he would’ve tried to bite you the first time he saw you! But as for the rest of them? I’ve never seen them warm up to a stranger like that before. Especially Kotaro—the way he acted around you that first night… It kinda made me jealous!”

You shake your head and take his other hand in yours. His face grows warm beneath your gaze, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as you inch your face closer to his.

“If my dogs trust you, then that tells me you must be a good man.”

And suddenly, Chuuya wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and press a thousand kisses to your lips.

“Your secret’s safe with me. If you want to come back, you’re more than welcome to! And if you want, we can just keep it between us. No outside drama, no mentions of work—just you and me and all these dogs…if that sounds good with you.”

Chuuya doesn’t think he can smile any wider. There’s another strange feeling in his chest, so much more pleasant than the one from earlier. No more shaking hands or butterflies in his stomach; only a sweet, warm feeling that pools deep in his chest.

It reminds him of your smile, of your warmth and affection for the little family you’ve made for yourself, as he tugs you in closer with Kotaro yipping happily at your heels.

“Sounds perfect to me, doll.”

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

You strike again with one heartbreaking and comforting fic!

Nameless figure, selfless help

Summary:  You couldn’t take it anymore, you couldn’t stand your life yet were too cowardly to end it. So you ran, and ran through the streets of your old city, your old life until you ran blindly into a new one. OR The time you got to see that not all mafia were evil  

Pairing: Suicidal reader  x Chuuya Nakahara 

Raven’s Special prompt: “Can you do Chuuya x fem reader where the reader is abused by her parents and tries to run away from home after a failed suicide attempt and ends up in PM territory”

Warnings: Dark content with triggers, proceed at your own risk!

This fic contains: suicidal reader (who’s made an attempt), hint at cutting and mention of blood, hint abusive-manipulative past/family, cursing, Chuuya comfort/help, I think I didn’t miss anything.. i hope. Enjoy?

“ Aj aj aj, this is not a bathroom, you can’t come in and out anytime you want;  Y/N get your scrawny ass back inside this house or help me god–” You were out the front door before your mother could start the all too familiar lecture. Of you- about you; how ungrateful you were to the family that raised you, how greedy you were to make a big deal of sharing your earnings, how utterly insatiable you were. Always damning more, desiring for more, lusting for more.That’s why your friends didn’t stay with you. That’s why you always struggled with meeting new people; not like your brother. Your brother was a good student, a good boy and good children, good boys  and  good girls always got what they wanted. What they deserved. And bad ones had only their karma to blame.- You knew the rant by heart. Knew that you were going to get an earful the second you came back- and yet your feet carried you even faster down the dark streets of Yokohama. Was this what the will to live felt like? Just moments earlier you had wanted nothing more than to die: and feel the suffering, this very existence come to its end. 

Yet now your heart was pumping in your chest. Each breath burned and filled you with a nervous kind of energy. The one that made your legs sprint down the packed streets, weaving past blue collar workers trotting home after a busy office day or groups of high school students exhaustedly dragging their feet after evening school. You saw familiar uniforms up ahead and felt your cheeks flush an angry red. Tears stung in your eyes- of humiliation and anger. Your mothers words echoed in your mind; a poisoned lie you’d normally ignore. 

But what if her words were the truth, your mind taunted. What if you were imagining things; what if your friends were actually not your friends. But put up with you out of pity? What if– Your feet carried you down the nearest alleyway away from the hoards of students and the main streets. Away from the buzz of life and down a much quieter alley filled with bars, food stalls and laughing patrons.

Yet somehow it felt ominous. Threatening. A different sense of nervousness- of panic- grew in your chest as you came to the bitter realization that you were lost. Your mind seemed to register that fact long before your body did. And still you ran. One foot set eagerly in front of the other, your eyes not even noticing the darkly clad man who stepped out of a bar and into the narrow dimly lit alley until you bumped into him in your rush. You tripped over you feet in the process.

“ The hell?! Watch where the fuck you’re going?” His voice was loud yet concerned; one gloved hand had caught your wrist, the only thing that kept you from face planting the ground. You felt your cheeks flush darker; how much more humiliating could this day get? “S-sorry” you muttered, using the other hand to wipe at your wet cheeks as the strange man pulled you up into an upright position. He didn’t let you go though. The second your eyes flickered to him in question he twisted you to face him fully, then twisted your arm upwards as if to see it better; the ‘it’ being your mangled skin and cuts which you had haphazardly covered up with whatever after your failed attempt earlier in the day. The man dug his gloved fingers into your flesh in displeasure. You yelped out in pain then paled at his sharp glare. Piercing blue eyes stared into your own frightened ones. His demeanor screamed trouble; his entire appearance radiated importance and anger. “ You’re in Port Mafia territory, kid” he growled, a bored sound which filled you with dread; your mind barely able to comprehend how badly you fucked up. 

You didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry; You had just calmed enough to give life another chance yet here you were, in the most dangerous part of the city, no doubt minutes away from having your life ripped away from you. Undoubtedly the man opposite you was mafia too, and you had heard all too well how the Mafia dealt with anyone  who dared infringe onto their territory. You felt your shoulders slump in surrender. Accepted your destiny; Prepared for the sharp pain of knife and the cold touch of death. Which never came- 

Instead, you heard the ginger sigh audibly, a sound which made you jump “ Ahh what the hell” He groaned again before he began walking, pulling you along with him with a surprising amount of strength. Even if you wanted to you’d have not been able to pry his grip off your arm. “ You’re bleeding; ain't no civilian hospitals round here, sweetheart. You’re fuckin lucky I’m in the mood to get rid of some spare bandages” the man grumbled as he pulled you further along behind himself; through the streets on the outskirts of the city you knew and  further into the shadow city you’d come to know and love. But of course you couldn’t know that. Not yet.

In fact you didn’t even know his name; the name of the man who saved you. But once you’d learnt it you swore you’d never forget it. You swore you’d find a way to repay him. To thank him for giving you a spot inside the comforting darkness by offering to bring him to the light.

But now I am getting ahead of myself; spoiling a future that’s yet to come.. 

Author note: This prompt broke my heart in more ways than one. But I hope that it brings comfort to the anon who requested it. <3 Liked this work and want to see more? Check out Raven's masterlist for more stuff to read!

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

I can't describe enough how much I love him.

“Many people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. And it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, ‘What do I care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.’ Yes, evil often seems to surpass good. But then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.”

— Vincent Van Gogh