#because chuuya with his drinking

[wistfullywaiting2]

Odasaku, Sasaki, and the orphanage headmaster are all buried in the same cemetery.

So Kunikida, Atsushi, and Dazai all run into each other grave visiting regularly and politely pretend they don’t. They never acknowledge the meaning behind the bouquets brought, even if all of them know the others know flower language. They never acknowledge the tear streaks down Atsushi’s face, or the solemn look on Kunikida’s. Atsushi never points out how the scent of whiskey is always a bit stronger on Dazai’s coat. They never acknowledge the location of their accidental meetings.

Sometimes Kunikida might offer to take them to get food, or Atsushi will offer a random hard candy from his pocket, on colder days Dazai might lend his coat. None of them are really themselves when faced with grief, and none of them will to hold it against each other.

[unicornpopcorn14]

Is there any instance of Chuuya underage drinking in canon??

It's never explicitly stated in SB that he drank with The Flags, and when Albatross hands the champagne to him he doesn't take it.

Maybe stretching it a bit here but, what if he didn't like the idea of drinking at a young age?

It'd be so funny if Dazai urged him to drink at 16 in Bar Lupin and he was like, "no, I'm not of age yet." And Dazai looks at him with the most disgustedly confused expression, pointing out that they've both committed literal manslaughter before the age of 15.

"And that's where you draw the line???"

~~~

Btw, do you think his first experience with alcohol is the night Dazai defected, when he opened the Petrus '89 bottle in order to "celebrate"?

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I LAUGH LIKE ME AGAIN (SHE LAUGHS LIKE YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: four years apart and the ultimate question is about to be answered: do you and dazai really still know each other, or are you clinging to a fantasy of the past? you decide to put it to the test with a game of wits and questions when dazai gets back to your apartment—but as the game drags on, dazai starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong. worse, if maybe he would prefer to be wrong.

(wordcount: 14.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, smoking & drinking, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing, im rushing to get this out!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys here it IS - sorry it's late, but TRUST it's worth it. i'm so proud of this fic, genuinely one of the things im most proud of writing. this is technically a part 2 to he's my collar but can be read as a standalone

It takes far too long for Dazai to make it out of the Port Mafia headquarters, with both Akutagawa and Chuuya prowling about like the dogs they are. He wonders if you tipped either of them off—Chuuya, in particular—because the slug had been looking around like he was searching for someone. He thinks you’re entirely wretched for it, knowing that if he got caught, he’d be trapped in that damp and filthy torture chamber until he managed to finagle his way out, and he plans to make it known to you just how entirely displeased he is by the situation. 

The path to your apartment is achingly familiar, and the giddiness in his chest is something he hasn’t felt since the day he left. He knows that he should probably be more careful—he’s still in Port Mafia territory, your apartment spans the top floor of the easternmost building of the five towers—but he also knows that you’re the only one with direct access to the cameras in this building so he’s more reckless than he would’ve otherwise been. 

The floors tick up agonizingly slowly, Dazai swears that there must be something wrong with the elevator because it’s never taken this long before to get up to your place. His fingers thrum against his thigh, and his foot taps the ground impatiently. He paces from corner to corner within the small space like a caged animal. He thinks that maybe he should be taking advantage of the time alone, come up with some better excuses as to why he didn’t say anything to you before he left.

“I wouldn’t have left,” isn’t going to cut it. As true as it might be, it’s not the full truth, and Dazai knows you’ll be able to sniff it out in a matter of a few seconds with a clear head. He’s not walking into a cheerful reunion between old lovers, he’s walking into what’s about to be a stressful game of chess against a strategist whom Dazai has always considered a near-equal, a battle of wits against a woman whose whole life has revolved around political warfare. If he wants to keep his dignity intact and his secrets safe, he’s going to have to be incredibly cautious with what he says to you and even with how he reacts to what you say to him.

Still, he can’t help the giddiness. The excitement. He’s missed you. He’s missed you so much that it hurts. He’d thought that over time, the longing for you would go away, but it never did. If anything, it got worse because, over time, the pictures of you started to lack the soothing feeling they used to bring to the aching in his chest. Over time, he started to forget the sound of your voice and the sound of your laugh.

He’d known that you’d been sent away on foreign business not long after his last call to you, but he didn’t think Mori would actually keep you abroad for three whole years. He’d been hoping, maybe, that he could stumble into you one day. Or maybe just watch from afar, get close enough to hear the sound of your voice again. He’s been grossly denied of you for too long, and he knows that it’s of his own doing but that only makes it worse.

When the elevator dings, announcing his arrival on your floor, Dazai is sorely unprepared for the conversation about to take place. He steps into your penthouse, eyes drifting around the familiar vast space.

Like your office, not much has changed since the last time he was here. Your coffee table is still set down a few centimeters too close to the couch in the living room—the same couch he had his first kiss on with you when the two of you were sixteen and drunk on champagne celebrating a successful mission. You still hang your black jacket over a chair instead of properly on a hanger, it’s why it always has a crease on the back—he’d noticed it when you left your office, and he can’t help but smile slightly at the confirmation as his eyes linger on where it’s draped over one of your kitchen chairs. 

You tried to convince him that you’ve changed in the years the two of you have been apart, but Dazai doesn’t think you’ve changed much at all.

You’re leaning against the windows, looking down on the city—he knows you must’ve heard the elevator, but you haven’t bothered to look his way yet. There’s an indecipherable expression on your face and a glass of wine in your hand. You’re still dressed in your suit and Dazai notices there’s a glass of whiskey on the rocks untouched on the kitchen table. He shrugs off his trench coat and drapes it over yours, hoping that the scent of you seeps into it because he’s gone too long without it.

His fingers curl around the glass of whiskey you’d left out for him, and for a moment, he swears that he’s eighteen again. He’s making his way to your penthouse after a long mission with Chuuya, you’re expecting him—you always are—and he can never push away the fondness that squeezes his chest when he finds you lounging back on your couch, flipping through channels to find something to watch, a glass of his favorite whiskey set down on the coffee table next to where your feet are propped up as you wait for him to show up.

He wonders if you even care to remember what his favorite is. He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

He makes his way out of the kitchen and back into the living room, and he’s reminded that he’s not eighteen and you’re not waiting for him to show up after a mission because you finally look at him, and his breath catches in his throat.

He thinks you look a bit older now than you did four years ago—to be expected, of course—and there’s a coldness to your eyes that hadn’t been there before. Impossibly, he thinks that you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were when he last saw you, and he realizes again, throat tightening, that even after three years of no contact with you, he’s just as in love with you now as he was the day he left.

He knew it back then before he left, even if he never said it. When he was eighteen and could only feel any inkling of pleasure when he was with you; it wasn’t like he’d never tried to have sex with other people, he’d whore himself out for information at any given chance and slept around frequently after you started dating a civilian to distract himself from the bitter jealousy he felt, but he’d never known how good it was supposed to feel until he slept with you for the first time. When he was seventeen and could only ever feel comfortable in your presence, seeking you out at any given chance when he couldn’t handle being around people anymore; he’d curl up in your office with your orange blanket, napping as you did work, knowing that you’d keep people away from him. He thinks he might’ve even known when he was sixteen when the two of you first met on the streets of the Kanagawa prefecture.

He wonders if you even believed him when he said it earlier—he doubts it, you don’t seem too keen to believe anything he says, and he doesn’t blame you for it. 

But whether you believe it or not, it’s yours—that rotted heart of his, shriveled and shabby, riddled with holes and decay, half-eaten by maggots and worms it might be, but it’s still yours. He thinks that it was meant to be yours since the moment he was born, and it’ll be yours even after the two of you are long dead. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to go without you again—he doesn’t think he can. He knows that despite the tentative ceasefire, the Port Mafia and the Agency are still enemies, but he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to leave you again. Even just the sight of you has condemned him completely. 

Then you speak, and at once, his entire world falls apart.

“I’m leaving again in the morning,” you finally say, tone flat and eyes sharp and shrewd as you look over him. He reminds himself that this is not a reunion, that he needs to get his head on straight if he wants to make it out of your apartment in one piece, but it’s hard. “I was only brought back to smooth things over with the government after the whole fiasco with Fitzgerald and his American cronies. I’ll be leaving for Russia in the morning to meet with Tolstoy and Nabakov. Hopefully, gain some intel on Fyodor Dostoevsky’s plans before the man makes another move on the city.”

He… did not anticipate that you’d be leaving again so soon. Something cold and sharp latches to his heart, like jagged nails ripping it apart. He makes sure it doesn’t show on his face.

“Be careful,” he tells you quietly. “Dostoevsky… he’s not someone to underestimate. Just-Just be careful.”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, “I’ve worked with Dostoevsky before. I don’t need you to warn me about him.” 

Your voice is cool. Sharp. Dazai sighs, knowing that anything he might’ve said to you earlier in the night is lost to you, and he doesn’t know if he’ll have it in him to bare his heart again, only for you to scorn it. He’s not meeting with you as he knows you—as his closest friend, as his lover; he’s meeting with you as the Port Mafia executive. Not the version of you that treats with allies, wining and dining them with glittering eyes and playful smiles as you use your ability to ensure they never turn on the Port Mafia; the version of you that sits at the round table with enemies, with a quick mind and calculating eyes as you decide whether or not they’re worthy of being absorbed into the Port Mafia or if Double Black will be sent out to eradicate them. 

“I told you everything I had to say back at the office,” Dazai tries, and he wonders if you’ll let him get away with it—he doubts it, but it’s worth a shot, and it will at least stall for a few moments as he tries to forcibly turn the cogs in his mind to figure out the best way of appeasing you. “I missed you. I… couldn’t say goodbye to you, not if I was to leave. I…”

I love you.

He doesn’t say it; he thinks he was only able to push it out earlier in the night in the heat of the moment, the orgasm-induced haze fogging his brain enough to let it slip out in desperation to make you give him a chance. And it worked because you gave him a second chance when you invited him back to your apartment, but Dazai doesn’t know how to make the most of the opportunity. He thinks he’s a fool for not preparing for this before getting here.

You click your tongue sharply, lip curling up in something close to disgust, and Dazai is glad he didn’t speak his ‘I love you’ because he thinks he might’ve actually cried if that was your reaction to him saying it.

“The only things you told me earlier in the night were half-truths and sweet talk. I didn’t invite you back to my apartment to hear you beg for another chance, Dazai,” you say coolly, and Dazai desperately misses the sound of his given name on your tongue. The corner of your lip curves up into a half-smirk, eyes suddenly glittering beneath the dim lighting of your penthouse as you add, “Although, I wouldn’t be opposed to it after we talk.”

He thinks the fact that you’re already considering an after might be a good sign. He can feel his cheeks flush a bit at your words, but instead of letting himself get rattled, he takes a step forward, well into your personal space, as he dips his face down so close to yours that his lips nearly brush yours as he speaks.

“I’d beg pretty for you,” he whispers, letting his voice drop an octave as his gaze tracks down to your lips. “I’d even get on my knees.”

Unfortunately, you are entirely unbothered by the proposition. “We’ll see, I suppose,” you say, and then raise your eyebrows, signaling for him to take a step back.

He does, and he feels distinctly put out and rejected by your reaction, but he sighs and asks, “What did you invite me here for then?” 

He very much does not like the way your eyes glitter now—shrewd this time, more amused, dangerous, as if you know the two of you are about to tread down territory that he’s going to be unfamiliar with. You nod for him to follow you into the kitchen, taking a seat at the head of the table and motioning for him to sit opposite you.

He does.

“We can play a game,” you finally concede. Dazai settles back against his chair, fingers still tapping rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, a terrible habit that Dazai has accrued whenever he feels cornered. Not a frequent occurrence, but damning when it is. Your eyes linger on them, and he knows you’ve pinpointed the tell. He forces himself to stop, but from the way your lips curl up, he can tell it doesn’t matter. “Ten questions each. Yes or no answers only.”

Dazai notices that you pointedly leave out any rule about the honesty of each answer—intentional, surely, so he probes.

“How do we determine the winner?” Dazai asks. He finally takes a sip of the fine whiskey you’d poured for him, and his question from earlier is answered. His favorite. There’s a warm feeling in his chest at the realization that you’ve remembered it even after all of these years.

Your lips curve up into a sharper and wider smile, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the soft lighting of your kitchen. The glass of wine in your hands is suddenly more reminiscent of a gun being pointed at him than your choice of alcohol, and he feels as if he’s already made some egregious mistake in your eyes.

“After we give our answer, the other has to decide whether or not it was truthful. In the end, we’ll both see how many the other got right. A test to see how well we still know each other,” is all you say in response. You’re mocking him and his insistence that the two of you are still the same, but Dazai intends to prove himself right. You tilt your head to the side and then say, “The prize is to be determined by the winner. I’ll ask the first question.”

Dazai winks, a lecherous comment already on his tongue about the prize, but the withering look you give him is more than enough to make it die before he can let it loose. He pointedly takes another sip of his drink and sinks in his seat.

He thinks that this should be an easy win. You’re quite the adept liar, but you’ve always had a glaring tell. Well, he amends, it’s glaring to him, at least. Not many others would be observant enough to catch it, and even if they were, only someone with an abundance of experience with you would be able to put it together. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, wondering if your lashes flutter right before you tell a lie. It’s such a simple and subtle tell, so casual that it took Dazai a year and a half to put together, but it was hard to miss once he did.

You hum to yourself as you give off the appearance of thinking about a question, but Dazai knows you better than anyone, and he’s certain that you already have all ten prepared, so he rolls his eyes at the faux show of uncertainty. 

“We both know you know what you want to ask,” he finally says. “Do us both a favor and quit with the theatrics.”

Your lip quirks up in amusement. “And here I was being gracious giving you more time to formulate whatever lies you’ll try to get away with,” you drawl, and Dazai nearly flinches.

“You know me so well,” Dazai sighs to hide how disconcerted he really is. “The question?”

You stare at him for a moment, and your lips curl up into a deceptively soft smile that almost throws Dazai off because, god, he’s missed you. And he knows you’re looking at him like this just for this specific reason because you’re a despicable bitch who knows that he’s always been easily unsettled when people show any semblance of affection toward him, but he can’t help the way he falters.

He tries to brace himself for whatever invasive question you’re about to ask regarding his reasons for leaving. Tries to prepare himself to lie cleanly because he’s sure you’re as aware of his tells as he is of yours. 

Then you ask: 

“Did you defect because of something Oda asked of you?”

Jesus. Right for the throat. You really don’t pull punches. 

Dazai’s throat tightens at the mention of his old friend, but he’s able to keep his expression clear of the sudden pain that your question brings on. You’re watching him carefully for reactions, gaze hawklike as you study his face, and Dazai is not about to let you pinpoint any more of his tells so early in the game.

He figures that this is an easy question; you already know the answer but want to hear the confirmation from his lips, so he decides to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“The truth,” you say, an indecipherable expression on your face. He wonders if you want to ask what Odasaku asked of him, but that’s not part of the game and Dazai has no intention of answering that.

Be on the side that saves people. If both are the same to you, become a good man.

You might laugh in his face—Dazai Osamu, the Demon Prodigy, a good man? The idea is blasphemous, and he thinks it might actually hurt him if you scoff or laugh in response to hearing that, so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t give away more than he has to, hoping that you don’t just straight up ask him.

You open your lips to speak, and Dazai braces himself for the prying question, but instead, you only probe, “First question?”

He wonders if your whole first question and the implications of it was just a means of trying to throw him off because now he’s fumbling trying to remember what he wanted to ask you before you hit him with it. He wouldn’t put it past you to play dirty like that—bringing up his dead friend and his last request just to unsettle him to give you the edge.

“Did we meet during my underground years after I defected?” he finally asks, and yeah, he knows the answer to this question. The missing half of his ear and waking up in the old safe house he used to hide out at with you is more than enough evidence for him to come to a definite conclusion, but he wants to hear it from you.

“Yes.”

Dazai inhales sharply and then murmurs, “That’s the truth.” And then, more loudly and far more affronted, he accuses, “I can’t believe you shot half of my ear off.”

He expects you to toss him a wink and a sharp grin, unrepentant and even finding amusement in his offense, but instead, your expression falters for the first time since he’s arrived. Something strange crosses your face; for whatever reason, his words leave you conflicted and Dazai suddenly feels even more nervous than he already was because now he can’t help but wonder what he might’ve said to you in his drunken state. 

He supposes that’ll have to be another question, but first, he’s going to have to figure out how to phrase it to get a yes or no answer first, without being vague enough for it to be a waste of a question or easy for you to misconstrue.

You hum after a few moments, taking a pointed sip of your wine. Dazai watches curiously—you’re bothered still, you’re not even trying to hide it. He knows you have better control over your facial expressions than this, so he thinks maybe it’s a ploy to get him to start spiraling down a path of useless questions. Put off by his sudden inability to discern your schemes, a part of him wonders if maybe you were right because the him of four years ago would’ve seen right through you right now.

“I’m afraid it had to be done,” you sigh with faux regret, but he can tell from the way the smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes that you’re not into the banter. “Were you able to fulfill Oda’s request?” 

Fuck. This time Dazai can’t withhold the grimace that spreads across his face. He tries to keep his voice light with a deflecting comment, “My, bella, you’re really hitting with the deep questions tonight, aren’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side as you wait for an answer, not giving him any room to formulate a response to your question. He finally sighs and shakes his head, taking a long sip of his whiskey. He wishes he had a pack of cigarettes on him, suddenly desperately longing for the pleasant burn of the smoke against his throat; he needs the buzz badly right now.

As if you could read his mind, you shift in your seat a bit and stuff your hand into the pocket of your slacks. It takes a few seconds but you fish out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, sliding them across the table over to him. If he wasn’t already so in his head over the question you asked, he’d make a quip over the fact that you still know him so well despite your insistence otherwise, but he only pulls out a cigarette and lights it, looking curiously down at the familiar brand.

“Since when did you start smoking these?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head back and takes a long drag of it. He exhales slowly and then adds, “Thought you liked the other ones, in the green box.”

“Teal,” you correct, and then frown a bit. “... Switched after you left.”

Dazai’s eyes flutter back open as his gaze focuses on you, wondering if the implication you left up in the air is something he can take at face value or if it’s just another way of trying to get him to lower his guard. But from the way you suddenly don’t meet his eyes, Dazai thinks you might be being honest: you switched because they reminded you of him.

Dazai’s chest suddenly feels heavy again.

“... No,” he finally responds to your second question. “Not yet, at least.”

“... Truth,” you say, and Dazai’s lips curl into a wry smile.

“Unfortunately.” The word slips out before he can stop it.

Your gaze flickers back up to him, curious, but Dazai doesn’t give you the chance to dwell on his comment, asking his next question: “Did I… admit anything to you that night that I wouldn’t have said while sober?”

His fingers tap rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, half-empty now; he’s anxious to hear your response.

“You did,” you confirm.

Dazai grimaces because that’s another truth, and that is not good. But just like how he doesn’t offer any context for his answers, you don’t either. He doesn’t know what he might’ve admitted or how you might’ve taken it—he’s going to have to waste another question on this topic.

“Truth,” he murmurs.

You hum and then ask, “Do you still blame yourself for what happened to him?”

“Come on,” Dazai complains sharply, tossing you a dirty look now. His jaw is tight. He wonders if you keep asking about Oda as some sort of sick revenge for him leaving, ripping open wounds that never properly healed so you can dig your fingers into them and twist around. You don’t look bothered by his outburst, waiting patiently for a response. He lets out an angry sigh, looking away and taking another long drink from his glass and another drag of his cigarette. 

He voices his first lie, “No.”

You let out a puff of air, rising to your feet and making your way over to the opposite counter, you grab the bottle of whiskey and bring it back over to him, topping off his now-empty glass before pointedly holding out your hand. He passes the cigarette over to you, tilting his head back to watch you bring it to your lips—a part of him longs to lean forward, to slide his hand behind your neck and cradle your head as he brings his lips to yours, inhaling the smoke as you exhale it, dizzy off the proximity to you, high off the buzz of the nicotine, just like the two of you would do when before he left.

He refrains, if only barely.

You exhale the smoke, a small cloud billowing around you—Dazai mourns the waste—and then you pass the cigarette back over to him. Your fingers brush his as you do, and a spark shoots through his arm at the touch.

“A lie,” you finally say, looking down at him with a frown. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could’ve done to save him.”

“You don’t know that,” Dazai says tightly, averting his gaze from you as you make your way back over to your seat across from him. “If I’d been faster-”

“If Mori wants someone dead, then they’ll die,” you interrupt him, a grimace on your face as you look down at your wine glass. “Trust me, Dazai, there was no saving Oda Sakunosuke.”

Dazai pauses instead of snapping again, catching the expression on your face. Haunted, as if you’re speaking from experience. He tilts his head to the side and then asks quietly, “Are you talking about your ex-partner? Itou?”

If Dazai remembers correctly, he died on a mission when you turned eighteen. You never told him the circumstances, and he never asked, but it was the first and only time you ever broke down in front of him.

The corner of your lips tightens, “Is that your next question?”

Dazai barely withholds a frustrated sigh. 

“No,” he says quietly, and then asks, “Did I tell you why I couldn’t say goodbye? The real reason?”

He holds his breath now as he waits for your response. One way or another, this question is a double blade: if he did tell you why, then he’s at another disadvantage because he’s going to feel distinctly bare and vulnerable; if he didn’t tell you, he just admitted that he lied back at your office, at least partially. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally say, “Yes.”

The truth. Dazai wonders when you’re going to utter your first lie, if you will, or if you’re trying to make some sort of point by being honest with him. He voices his answer and then waits impatiently for your next question as his mind races.

He desperately wants to know how you responded to him back then. Would you have come with him had he come to you before he left? Or would you have chosen the Port Mafia? He wonders if he should ask, make it one of his remaining seven questions, but he doesn’t know if he has the guts to hear your answer, so maybe he’ll just change the subject.

“Are you enjoying yourself at the Agency?”

For the life of him, Dazai cannot figure out your angle. First, the prying questions about Oda and now asking about the Agency. He doesn’t know what he expected at the start of the game—you’ve always been unpredictable, but even more so now. He’s never had such a hard time reading you or your intentions before.

He starts to feel even more doubtful, wondering if you were right.

Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does anymore.

But this is an easy question, so he says the truth with little hesitation, “I am.”

Dazai swears the corners of your lips curl up into a soft smile, but it’s gone so quickly that he might’ve imagined it.

“Good,” you say quietly. “I’m glad.”

Dazai’s lips part, a warm feeling spreads through his chest at the honesty in your tone. Desperately, he wants to know what’s going on—where’s the rage and the betrayal he expected from you? The hate? Why do you seem… okay with all of this?

Irrationally, he starts to wonder if everything from the office was just a heat-of-the-moment conversation. If now that you’ve had time to sit on your thoughts, you’ve realized… realized what? That you’ve moved on from him? That you don’t care what he does anymore? That you’ve accepted that he’s no longer a part of your life? The warmth in his chest disappears, edged away by a sudden coldness and desperation because he thinks he’d rather die than go back to a life without you.

Even more irrationally, he remembers the comment you made back at the office, the admission that you’ve slept around since he left. Oh god, what if you really have moved on?

He knows his next question.

“The people you slept with—were they all one-night stands?”

He doesn’t want to know the answer unless it’s a yes.

You raise your eyebrows at the abrupt shift in his line of questioning, and then, to his absolute horror, you say, truthfully, “No.”

“What do you mean no?” he asks angrily—he thinks if he was a bird, he’d be puffing his chest out in irritation. He feels antsy suddenly, he needs to move around. He starts tapping his foot against the floor, his fingers against the glass. And again, he thinks you’re a despicable bitch because you only look amused at his question as if he’s not beside himself with righteous fury.

“It’s not your turn,” is all you respond with, and Dazai has a distinct urge to throttle you. Then you ask, “Do you feel like you belong there?”

He halts.

His fingers freeze from where they’re tapping against the glass, his foot freezes mid-motion. His lips part as he’s confronted with the very question that he’s been struggling with for two years now. He wants to yes, if only to maybe be a little spiteful, to rub in your face that he’s somewhere good and he’s somewhere where he belongs, and it’s not somewhere with you. A cruel dig to get back for the aching in his chest at the thought of you being with other people, but he knows that you’ll catch the lie, and more importantly, he doesn’t want to hurt you like that.

Maybe he has grown a bit because the Dazai of four years ago nearly killed your civilian boyfriend when he found out that you were dating someone besides him and then promptly made a show of sleeping around to try to get back at you.

So, instead, he says quite honestly, “I don’t know.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Not a yes or no answer, but I suppose it works. How curious.”

He hates your cryptic comments. Pointedly, he side-eyes you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. Already, it’s nearly down to the nub, so he puts it out on your table, ignoring the distasteful look you give him, and then reaches for another to light as he asks: “Were you in a relationship with any of them?” 

You roll your eyes at his prying, and he cannot hide the abject horror that crosses his face when you say, “Yes.”

“That better be a lie,” he complains, and when you look at him as if to ask if that’s really his guess, he makes a show of pushing out his bottom lip and looking away as he says: “I cannot believe you dated other people. Cheater.”

“We were never even dating, Daz-”

“Yes, we were,” Dazai protests instantly, entirely aghast at your words. “We absolutely were. What does that even mean? Of course, we were dating. Everybody knew it. Ask anybody. Ane-san knew. Gin-chan knew. Chuuya knew. Even Mori knew. We were so dating, you-”

“You never officially asked me to be your girlfriend, which is, unfortunately, the most fundamental step of dating,” you interrupt him, and Dazai stares at you in disbelief.

“I bought you flowers, we fucked exclusively,” Dazai complains, aggrieved. “We were definitely dating, and you definitely cheated on me because we never broke up.”

“If we were dating,” you emphasize the if very pointedly, and Dazai is distinctly put out by it, “then we broke up the day you left without saying goodbye.”

Dazai withers. He has no witty comment to return fire with, so instead, he just takes another sip of his whiskey, grateful for the combined buzz of the alcohol and the nicotine to distract him from the overwhelming guilt he feels whenever you bring up how he left you.

“Do you feel like you belong more with the Agency than you did with the Port Mafia?” 

Your next question is an amendment to your previous on, and it leaves Dazai just as lost.

He wants to belong with the Agency. He does. Desperately. He wants more than anything to feel as at home and comfortable in the light as he does in the dark. He doesn’t want to question his place among them anymore, he doesn’t want to wonder if he sticks out like a sore thumb. He wants to enter the office and feel like he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not, just so he can keep his place with them. He doesn’t want to have to fear at every corner that he’s going to revert to old habits, and they’ll see him for the monster that he is: a monster that should have never left the dark crevices that he crawled out from, a monster with blood so black that it strikes fear in even the most terrible mafiosos.

“No,” he admits the insecurity that’s plagued him to the one person he feels comfortable enough with to voice it aloud. He can’t bring himself to look up at you, wondering if the admission will give you some sort of sick satisfaction, if you’ll be happy that he’s not finding a place he can be comfortable in without you. Instead, he decides to rush to ask his next question: “The one you were in a relationship with, did you love him?”

He thinks that the question came across as far more timid than he meant it to be, and his eyes slide shut as he waits for your answer.

“There were multiple I had relationships with—” Dazai scoffs, of course, there were multiple. “—...but no, I did not.”

He lets out a soft puff of air, shoulders slumping a bit in relief. But his fingers are still tense around his glass, waiting for whatever question you’re going to ask next that’s going to dig deep into open wounds, stripping him of all of his masks and armor to force him to lay himself entirely bare in front of you.

“Did you really blow up Chuuya’s car before you left?”

His eyes fly open at the sudden change of pace in your questions, noting the smirk curling at the corner of your lips and the amusement glinting in your eyes. He accepts the olive branch quickly as he gives you a sharp smile and asks: “What do you think?” 

Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle a laugh, and the smile on Dazai’s lips becomes a bit softer as he watches you desperately try to get yourself under control. “You’re insane, you know that?” you finally say, still trying to bite back giggles. “He was so mad. Raged about it for weeks.”

Another question pops into Dazai’s head at the mention of Chuuya, and before he can consider whether or not he actually wants to know the answer to it, he asks: “Speaking of Chuuya, was he one of your trysts while I was gone?”

Suddenly, you are not laughing, and suddenly, Dazai regrets speaking.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Do not tell me-”

“He was,” you confirm.

Dazai’s glass of whiskey is empty. 

He grabs the bottle and drinks right from it, miserable.

“I think I would’ve rather been stabbed through the heart,” Dazai says mournfully, and though he keeps a faux-light tone with you, his throat feels like it’s swollen, and he feels a bit sick to his stomach.

He’s always been jealous of the bond you have with Chuuya. Absurdly jealous, even. You clicked with him quickly—you clicked with both of them quickly, and maybe it was a matter of the three of you being the youngest of the Port Mafia’s uppermost echelon, but Dazai doesn’t want to attribute it solely to that—but the way you clicked with Chuuya was different from how you clicked with Dazai. Two people so completely human locked away in the dark, clinging to one another to maintain some sense of normalcy; your and his casual humanity made Dazai’s lack of it irrefutable and glaring.

Regardless of the why, he never liked how close you were with Chuuya. 

Even before you were dating him—because you were dating him—a part of him had always felt sidelined whenever the three of you hung out together. Not because of either of your wrongdoings but just because it was hard for him to keep up with the two of you. He always felt a bit lost trying to, unable to follow along when the two of you would start laughing at jokes that he didn’t understand even when you explained them to him, when you would share glances with one another that spoke whole conversations he wasn’t privy to. The two of you got along in ways that Dazai would never be able to get along with anyone because there’s just something fundamentally wrong with him at his core. Chuuya, for all of his talk and fear regarding the question of his humanity, has always been so unfailingly human in ways that Dazai, to this day, cannot fathom to understand.

After you started dating him—because you were dating him—it only got worse because he’d see you with Chuuya and wonder if you were better off with someone like him instead. Dazai doesn’t know how to treat you right, clearly. He can’t even treat himself right; and Chuuya has always been the epitome of a gentleman, loathe Dazai is to admit it—Ane-san drilled that into the other boy where Mori only taught Dazai how to be cruel and unforgiving. The line between love and obsession has always been a terribly blurry one for him, and you have always wavered on either side of it—and Dazai, unfortunately, does not love healthily and obsesses so entirely that it would have most people running for the hills. 

For better or for worse, you’re not most people.

In his spiral of insecurity, he doesn’t catch the way your brows furrow as you put together some puzzle pieces. “Dazai,” you say suddenly, drawing him from his thoughts abruptly. There’s an accusatory look in your eyes that he really does not like. “Were you the one that booby-trapped my fucking apartment?”

Dazai snorts.

“You bastard,” you snap at him, and Dazai can’t help but bite the palm of his hand as a means of trying to stifle his laughter. “Mori thought it was a goddamn assassination attempt. He kept me under watch for weeks because of you. I couldn’t leave the towers without half of the Black Lizards with me.”

“Sorry,” he coos, not sorry at all. Dazai, because he clearly doesn’t know when to learn his lesson, then he promptly asks, “Am I better fuck than Chuuya?”

“Jesus Christ, Dazai, get off the topic of Chuuya and my sex life, it’s clearly only upsetting you,” you snap at him instead of answering the question. Dazai wants to argue and retain some dignity; he’s not upset, but then his entire world is shattered by your next words: “I am not answering this question.”

Dazai blanches. He can feel the blood drain from his face. He’d thought this was an easy question to make him feel a bit better. What do you mean you won’t answer? Does that mean Chuuya-

No. Dazai refuses to believe it.

 “No way,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s not a better fuck than me. You can’t possibly-”

“He’s not,” you finally say, and Dazai audibly lets out a sigh of relief. “But if you ever mention anything along the likes of that to him, you will never fuck me again, Dazai Osamu. Do you understand?”

Dazai is too relieved to even argue. “Yeah.”

“No more questions about my sex life,” you say firmly, and Dazai doesn’t respond, but he does agree internally because he doesn’t think his heart can handle any more scares like that. Your eyes sharpen again, and Dazai braces himself. “Were you the one to tell Mori I lied about being sick so I could skip out on the ball Mishima hosted when we were seventeen?”

Dazai’s eyes narrow right back at you and rather than answering, he shoots one of his own questions at you: “Were you the one to tell Mori I had his contact in my phone as ‘ignore’?”

You take his lack of an answer as an affirmative, correctly so. Dazai has no regrets about ratting you out to Mori because he was not about to attend Mishima’s event without you on his arm. He’d rather die. 

“You bastard, do you know the lengths I went to fake being sick? I wanted one night to relax without people breathing down my neck.”

“If I had to go, you had to go,” Dazai retorts petulantly. “I was not about to suffer with only Chuuya as company. You had no reason to tell Mori about the contact name besides to be petty. I fought with Chuuya for weeks because I thought he was the one to do it.”

You choke on a laugh. “Chuuya was so mad, he had no idea what you were talking about.”

“He tied me to a pole and swung me around for three hours,” Dazai complains, but there’s a smile on his lips as you burst into laughter, unable to stifle the giggles that spill from your lips.

“I know,” you wheeze, “I got it on video. We watch it sometimes when we’re bored and can’t find a movie.”

Dazai gapes, and you laugh harder, but for the first time in four years, Dazai finally feels… at home, he feels comfortable in his own skin again. He’s back in your penthouse, he’s drinking his favorite whiskey and smoking his favorite brand of cigarettes, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with him and laughing your head off at his expense, and for a moment, Dazai feels as if nothing has changed: he feels like himself again, eighteen and entirely enamored by the sight and sound of you, and you feel like you again, all of the doubt that had begun to rise to his chest as the two of you played the questions game long gone.

He falls in love with you all over again. Harder this time. Faster. He thinks he’ll fall in love with you again and again every day for the rest of your lives, each time more than the last, no matter how impossible it might seem.

He thinks maybe it’s not that he feels like he belongs with the Port Mafia more than the Agency. He thinks that it’s you. You’re the one he feels at home with. You’re the one he’s comfortable enough to be himself with. You’re the one he belongs with, always has, and always will.

After a few moments, you finally manage to get yourself under control, still giggling a bit as you look back up at him. Your smile is softer now, eyes gentle, more genuine than the smile you gave him before asking the first question. Dazai’s breath catches because when was the last time you looked at him like this—the last time anyone has looked at him like this? A warm feeling spreads through his chest; Dazai thinks he would stay in this moment forever if given the opportunity.

“Are you happy?” you ask quietly

Dazai blinks, startled, and an odd feeling spreads through his chest once your question registers. His lips part to answer, but no words leave them; he draws back as if he’s been slapped, a bit flustered and confused because that’s the furthest thing from what he expected you to ask. He wonders if you’d asked the last three questions to lull him into a false sense of security.

“I-” he starts to say but cuts himself off. “What kind of question is that?” 

He tries to deflect instead of properly answering, frowning, but you only raise your eyebrows, pointedly keeping your lips sealed to let him know that you expect an answer. He shakes his head and then sighs, bouncing the question in his head a few times before going for a cop-out: “When I’m with you? Always.”

You’re not pleased by his decision, frowning as you look away from him—he knows that’s not what you asked, not really, but you should have been clearer with your question if you wanted him to give you the answer you expected. But he doesn’t like the sudden disappointment on your face, it leaves his skin itchy and his chest longing for the soft look to return.

So he sits there, ruminating on the question. Is he happy? He should be, right? He’s saving people. He’s on the way to fulfilling Odasaku’s final request. He has a whole group of people whom he can rely on without having to fear being taken advantage of or betrayed at every corner. He’s happy.

But is he trying to convince himself of it? Why is he still trying to kill himself if he’s happy? Why is there a part of him that feels lonely no matter how surrounded he is by people? Why is it that when he’s at his lowest points, the only two people he wishes he could be with are you and Chuuya? Why does he ache for the days he’d spend dragging the two of you around Yokohama, causing trouble for Mori—the closest he’s ever felt to enjoying life?

“I don’t know,” he finally amends his answer, looking down at the bottle in front of him and the cinders of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He lifts it to his lips again, taking one last drag of it as he tries to figure out what his last question should be.

There’s only one pressing question he has left, but he hesitates, unsure if he really wants to know your answer.

He forces it out anyway.

“Would you… would you have come with me back then?” His voice is quieter than he intended, cracks over ‘me’, and to your credit, you don’t react to the question, expression as eerily still as it was before, as if you’re considering your words.

A yes or no. It shouldn’t take this long for you to answer. Each second that passes feels like an eternity, and Dazai suddenly feels anxious, he doesn’t know why he asked this question because if the answer is no—if it’s no, then…

Finally, you let you a soft sigh, taking a sip of your wine as if to prolong his agony.

Your lashes flutter before you speak.

You lie for the first time that night.

“Yes.”

Dazai’s voice sounds far away as he says, “That’s a lie.”

“I guess you were right,” you say softly, but you sound so distant, like you’re on the opposite side of a long, empty tunnel and not sitting right in front of him. “We do still know each other decently well; you got them all right.”

Dazai doesn’t care. In fact, he would have gladly conceded a loss in this game, and he would’ve gladly admitted that maybe the two of you don’t know each other as well as you used to if it meant that he got the last question wrong because then he would’ve just given you a coy expression and asked if you’d let him get to know this new version of you too. You would’ve said yes, and he would’ve made quite the pleasurable night out of it for the two of you. Instead, he had to insist that nothing has changed, and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he was right and he had known you well enough back then to know not to ask you to leave with him because you would have chosen the Mafia over him. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice you approaching him until you’re leaning on the table next to him, index and middle finger coming beneath his chin to tilt his face up toward you. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes searching your face, but he only finds another blank slate that he can’t read. His breath hitches when your hand slides from his chin to cup his cheek, and he can’t help the way that he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“I would choose you over so many things, Osamu.” You speak his given name for the first time in years, but he can hardly find any comfort in it because he knows he’s not going to like what you’re about to say. Your fingers card through the tips of his hair, brushing the dark locks behind his ear as your thumb sweeps over his cheekbone. “But not over the Port Mafia. Just like how you didn’t choose to stay for me.”

“It’s not the same,” he says, voice hoarse. “It’s-”

“It is,” you interrupt, voice deceptively gentle, and he thinks you’re entirely unfair because he can hardly focus with your touch distracting him. He’s missed it so much—he’s gone four years without it, without any type of touch that wasn’t him getting his shit kicked in by Kunikida or an enemy. “You didn’t choose to stay for me. I wouldn’t have chosen to leave for you.”

“Why?” Dazai asks tightly, and he hates that when his jaw tenses, you smooth your fingers over it, and he unclenches it immediately.

There’s a sadder look in your eye now as you give him a small smile. “You know why.”

Of course, he knows why. He feels the hatred deep in his gut as his mind draws back to Mori. Because that’s who the issue is. It’s not the Port Mafia. It’s not your friendship with Kouyou. It’s not even your friendship with Chuuya that’s the issue. It’s Mori and your undying loyalty to him. No matter how much you claim to despise him, bashing him every chance you get, sneering at him whenever he tries to treat you like his daughter, Dazai knows that when it comes down to it, you’ll always choose him. You’d throw yourself on a sword if he asked it of you, and not for the first time, Dazai wants to spit in the man’s face for making you feel as if you’re eternally indebted to him for rescuing you from that warzone so many years ago; for making you feel as if you’re nothing without the Mafia, nothing without him.

“You don’t owe him anything,” Dazai says tightly. “You have to know that by now—you don’t owe him anything.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation, Dazai,” you sigh, sounding tired. Your hand drops from his face, and Dazai longs for your touch again instantly. His fingers twitch from where they’re resting on his lap; he only barely stops himself from reaching out for you. You try to smile as you change the subject, but it hardly meets your eyes, “It’s a tie then. No prize for either of us, hm?”

Dazai is not so inclined to switch the subject. He wants to press on this now that he has the chance; he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to rip you out from beneath Mori’s thumb, but he needs to at least try… but you’re leaving again in the morning, and Dazai also does not want to ruin this night with you. He doesn’t know when he’ll get another.

So, instead, he matches your half-assed smile as he looks up at you and says, “I didn’t say you got them all right. You only said that I got them all right.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did I get any wrong?” you ask, amused.

No.

“Yes.”

“Liar,” you say, but there’s a fond lilt to your tone as you let out another puff of air, the smile on your face finally reaching your eyes as you look down at him. The soft lighting of your kitchen casts a pretty glow over your face, your smile is so entrancing that Dazai thinks he could stare at it forever.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He’s sure he must look like a fool right now, entirely enamored by the sight of you, unable to even fathom drawing his gaze away. He wonders if you’ll protest again, call him a liar, and shift away from him.

You don’t.

The smile on your lips falls, and a wrecked expression crosses your face as your eyes search his. Your lips part to speak, and he waits with bated breath for whatever you’re about to say—he thinks that if you deny him again right now, it might completely shatter all of the walls he’d so carefully built to protect himself.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whisper as if you’re scared to speak the words out loud—and how can he blame you when the last time you dared to speak them, he hung up on you, never hearing from him again until tonight.

God, the guilt he feels whenever he thinks of you returns with a vengeance, so intense that Dazai starts to feel sick to his stomach. He can’t handle it, so he does the only thing he knows how to do to distract himself from it.

His movements are clumsy as he pushes himself up to his feet, nearly tripping over the leg of his chair, and his fingers feel clunky as he lifts them up to cup your cheeks. For a second, he fears that you might move away from him, but you don’t, so he leans in to press his lips against yours.

There’s no tenderness to his kiss. Dazai kisses you like he wants to consume you, lips sliding messily against yours, blunt nails indent crescents into your cheeks as he holds you close. Usually, he would be embarrassed by his blatant desperation and lack of finesse—he’s never been a sloppy kisser, when the two of you were younger, you would always let out pleased hums into his mouth, lashes fluttering as he worked his lips carefully against yours, tongue sliding against your own as he traces his name on it. 

All of his finely honed skill is thrown out the window now as he kisses you like a man who has been starved for years. He has been starved for years—the quick fuck in your office did nothing to quell the longing he’s felt for you the past four years. He could kiss you for hours. Days, even, and it still won’t be enough. Nothing short of an eternity with you would be enough to make up for the four years he’s been deprived of you.

He lets out a low groan into your mouth as you nip at his bottom lip, hands sliding from your face down to your hips. He’d take you here. Right now. But he remembers the last time he tried to fuck you on your kitchen table, it ended with him choking on the barrel of your gun as you yelled at him for being gross (“I eat on this table, you heathen!”) and he’s not particularly in the mood to set off your temper now that he finally has you in his arms again, so it’s with much restraint that he grabs you by the hips to walk you back into your bedroom.

He can hardly concentrate as your fingers twist the hair at the nape of his neck, soft moans slipping from his lips, muffled against your mouth. It’s only sheer instinct and muscle memory that has him making his way from the kitchen and down the hall. He can’t bring himself to separate his lips from yours for even a second. And he’s a mess because he’s not coherent enough to force himself to breathe properly through his nose, so his lungs are burning and his head feels a bit light, but he doesn’t care so long as it means he can keep kissing you.

Turn left, turn right, second door from the end of the hall. 

His fingers fumble for the knob of your bedroom door, pushing it open a bit too hard, considering the way he hears it slam against the wall and how you tug his hair hard in retaliation. He doesn’t care, moans a bit louder even when your nails scrape his stinging scalp, and you let out a derisive noise against his lips before biting down hard enough to draw blood.

The taste of iron makes a slow smile curl at his lips, walking you back toward the bed, and it’s only when your knees hit the edge that you finally pull away from him. “If you broke my door, you’re fixing it, Osamu.”

Dazai’s smile is lecherous. “I’m gonna break something alright,” he croons, relishing in the way you immediately roll your eyes at him. It’s all so familiar—he can almost pretend that he never left, that nothing has changed since the two of you were eighteen, dumb, reckless, and in love.

Before he can press you back against the bed, he feels your fingers drop from around his neck to his waistband, curling around his belt loops. In an instant, you’ve twisted the both of you around, and suddenly, it’s the back of Dazai’s knees pressed against the edge of the bed as you push him down onto the mattress. He hits the sheets with an ‘oof’ and a hazy smile, surrounded by the scent of you, drowning in the sight of you. He thinks he might be in heaven. 

You shift on top of him, straddling his waist; Dazai’s hands instantly come to rest on your thighs, sliding up the sides to grab your ass and pull you more firmly onto him. He groans when he feels you grind down against his cock, and god, he’s already hard just from kissing you. He hears you snort above him, but Dazai doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

His lips part in a silent moan as you lean down to ghost kisses along his jaw, hands sliding up his chest. He feels you wrap your fingers around his bolo tie and tug it, you let out a sharp noise of distaste against his skin before murmuring: “I hate this ugly thing.”

He lets out a huff of laughter that quickly breaks off into a moan when your lips trail to the spot behind his ear that always makes him writhe. His fingers bite into your hips, pushing you down on him as he rocks his hips up into you—shit, he might be able to cum just from this. His cock is straining painfully against his beige pants, twitching as he grinds up against your clothed cunt. He thinks maybe if he fucks his hips upward a few more times, he might be able to push himself over the edge, but as desperate as he is to chase his release, he refuses to cum anywhere but inside of you.

Plus, he thinks he’ll be shamed to hell and back if he finishes in his pants with you hardly touching him. 

“Then strip me out of it,” he gasps, lashes fluttering as your teeth graze his pulse point right above the edge of his bandages. Fuck, he’d give anything for you to bite down—riddle him with marks he can’t cover so he can flaunt them off to everyone who looks at him. Dazai knows that there are countless men and women out there who’d die to be able to be called yours, he wants them to know he’s the only one who can take that honor. “What’re you waiting for?” 

You hum and then sit back on his hips—he bites his bottom lip raw as you unintentionally put even more pressure on his cock. He’s half dazed out, not realizing that your grip tightened on his bolo tie until you straight up yank it off of him, snapping the string around his neck.

“No!” he complains, watching with wide eyes and parted lips as you fling the now-broken bolo tie off to the side of your room. “Noooo, why’d you do that? I’m going to have to order a new one.”

“Boo-hoo,” you say dryly, hardly paying attention to him as your fingers curl around the hem of his vest, pulling it up over his head, snorting when he lets out a puff of irritation as his nose gets caught around the collar. 

“This is so unsexy,” he protests, rubbing his nose. “Shouldn’t you be more gentle?” 

“Stop wearing so many layers of clothes,” you retort, but Dazai is placated when you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips, lashes fluttering as his eyes slide shut. He lets out a pleased hum as you kiss down his jaw, nimble fingers unbuttoning his final layer of clothing. He wishes he wore an undershirt just to watch you huff in annoyance. His breath catches as you nip at his skin and then murmur, “This better?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice wavering as you get down to the last button of his shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders and easing him out of it. His body shudders as your hands slide over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Fuck, it’s been so long since anyone’s touched him beneath his clothes, even with the bandages still acting as a layer between the two of you, his nerves are on end, sensitive to everywhere your fingers touch.

He wonders if you’ll pull off the bandages—it’s a line that the two of you only crossed once back then, and although the idea of it has him brimming with anxiety, he longs for the feeling of your skin flush to his.

He almost feels a bit embarrassed when you sit back again to admire him as if there’s not a scar-ridden body hidden beneath the bandages. You look at him like he’s beautiful, like he’s not a monster disguised as a man, like he’s human. Dazai has always felt distinctly seen beneath your stare like you can see through all of the masks he wears and see him for him, and that has not changed over the past four years.

He’s missed the comfort of it. He has. It used to unnerve him back then, thinking someone could see him so clearly when he tried so hard and so carefully to hide himself beneath layers of impenetrable masks, but after going four years alone, with no one for him to turn to, no one he could look at and have them just know what he’s thinking… 

Yosano once mentioned offhandedly that to be loved is to be seen, and Dazai thinks the only time he’s ever been seen—truly seen, down to his core, deep in his soul—is when he’s with you.

It was a very lonely four years without you.

“I thought about you every day,” Dazai tells you softly, the grip on your hips easing up as he looks up at you. “Made a list of places I wanted to bring you and then burned it because I never thought I’d get the chance to be with you again. Stared at old pictures of you all the time, couldn’t sleep without thinking about memories with you. Drank your favorite wine just so I could pretend I was tasting it off your lips.”

You bring your hand up to cup his cheek, and Dazai leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut again. He kisses your palm, humming softly when your thumb runs along his bottom lip.

“There wasn’t a single day I went without you crossing my mind,” you admit quietly and Dazai’s breath hitches as he stares up at you, dark eyes wide and lips parted. He thinks he should say something, anything really, but it’s a lost cause. You don’t seem to mind, luckily, because you only lean down to brush your lips against his again.

This kiss is softer than the last, lips trembling against yours as your tongue dances along his inner lip. He thinks his cheeks might feel wet but he doesn’t dare acknowledge it; you don’t either, only using your thumbs to brush away the tears as they spill over his cheeks.

“Are you really leaving again in the morning?” he finally asks, and he hates that his voice cracks over the words.

You hum in agreement, still hovering over him, still running your thumbs along his cheekbone. His lashes droop shut, but he forces them back open as you speak. “I am. Bright and early. Flight leaves at six.”

His gaze flickers to the left, over to where your alarm clock is set up on your nightstand. 

12:35

He looks back at you, eyes swimming with desperation.

You give him a soft, wry smile. “We should make the most of the night then, hm?”

He doesn’t waste any time on that.

His grip on your hip tightens, and in one swift motion, he flips the two of you around, elbows resting on the mattress on either side of your head as he hovers above you. Your eyes glitter as you give him a coy smile, and again, Dazai falls in love.

Then, he ruins the moment.

“Tell me how you fucked Chuuya.”

Your smile drops. “Osamu, what the fuck?”

“Tell me,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek and peppering soft kisses on your cheek and down your neck. His knees drop to the bed on either side of your hips, holding up his weight as he reaches down to unbutton your slacks, sliding them off your body. A smile flickers onto his lips as his fingers graze your panties—drenched, finally, evidence that he’s not the only one so affected by this. “Tell me. Were you on top? Did he take you from behind? Was he rough? No, it’s Chuuya-”

“If you care so much about how Chuuya fucks, Osamu, how about you go fuck him yourself?” you interrupt him.

Dazai gags.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he says and then returns to his mission, fumbling with his own pants now as he tries to yank them and his briefs off, unable to hold back the relieved sigh when he finally frees his cock, unceremoniously tossing them to the floor. “Tell me.” 

“Why do you care so much, hm?” you ask, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I told you that you were better.”

You’re only trying to deflect from the question and he almost lets you succeed, partially placated, but he stays strong, leveling an unrelenting stare onto you as he waits for your answer. You sigh heavily, and he knows he’s won.

“Not rough,” you say as if Dazai hasn’t already come to that conclusion. Chuuya’s had a crush on you since the three of you were sixteen. Dazai assumed he had grown out of it, but evidently, he was wrong, considering he took the opportunity to sleep with Dazai’s girlfriend—because you were his girlfriend—the moment Dazai was out of the picture. What a little snake. Dazai needs to vandalize his apartment again. Maybe set up a few more bombs. He’s only drawn back from his mental spiral when you start talking again: “He took the lead. Wanted to see my face the whole time, make sure I was okay.”

“How gentlemanly of him,” Dazai says—he’s not bitter. He’s not.

“It was,” you agree, too genuinely.

Dazai squints at you hard. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say. “You asked.”

“You don’t need to sound so wistful.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Osamu, I’m not wistful.”

“How-”

“Are we going to talk about Nakahara Chuuya all night, or are you going to fuck me?” you interrupt immediately, looking increasingly incensed. Dazai only raises his chin at you pointedly—you’re the one that slept with Chuuya. “Time is dwindling, Osamu.”

Okay. 

Dazai’s gaze flickers back to the clock and then back down to you, withering a bit under your irritated stare. He sighs and leans back over you to kiss the corner of your lips, fingers curling around the hem of your panties to slide them off your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his kisses linger against your skin now as he drags his lips down to your jaw. “The thought of him being with you…”

It makes Dazai want to do terrible things. The part of him that he locked up deep within rattles at the bars of its cage, furious and bloodthirsty. The trigger finger he’s been so careful to tame twitches with a desire he hasn’t felt in four years. The thought of anyone being with you makes Dazai sick to his stomach—Dazai is the only one who should get to see you like this, be with you like this—but the thought of Chuuya being with you is so much worse.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Osamu,” you tell him quietly, fingers intertwining with his hair as he nips at your neck. “No matter how much I slept around, nothing was ever able to fill the hole losing you left. Not even Chuuya.”

Dazai exhales, shaky—the guilt returns, and so does the doubt because what right does he have sitting here being petty about what you did while he was gone when he was the one who left you behind without so much as a word? His eyes flutter shut, he spares a few more chaste kisses across your throat before lifting his face back to yours, kissing you gently.

“Let me make up for lost time then,” he says softly.

He doesn’t hesitate now, one hand dropping down to your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his waist as he presses his hips into you. His breath shudders when his cock slips against your folds, a low moan spilling from his lips. He has to reach down to angle himself properly, tip pressing against your tight hole.

The fingers of his free hands are shaky as he lifts them to cup your cheek. “Look at me,” he says, heat spreading through his abdomen when he realizes you already can hardly hold your eyes open, quick breaths escaping your lips as you try to keep yourself from cumming already. “Look at me, I want to see you.”

Your eyes flutter open, lidded and heavy as you look up at him, and Dazai thinks that maybe he could cum just from the expression on your face alone, inhaling sharply as his thumb drags across your bottom lip. He thinks maybe he should try to get ahold of himself, fearing that if he pushes inside of you now, he might cum on the spot, but his cock is aching so badly that Dazai thinks he might die if he doesn’t feel your heat around him immediately.

It takes all of his strength to keep his eyes from sliding shut as he pushes inside of you, desperate to see the way your face twists and your breath catches. Your lips tremble, chest rising and falling rapidly, he can feel your thighs tightening around his waist, and Dazai groans when your heels dig into his lower back, forcing his hips flush to you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. He chokes, grip on your thigh bruising; his abdomen tightens, and his head feels light.

No way, he thinks, gritting his teeth as he tries to hold back the waves of pleasure threatening to tear through him. He hears you let out a huff of laughter beneath him, and Dazai would shut you up with a sharp thrust of your hips, but he’s still desperately trying to regain control over himself, so he thinks that’s maybe not the best idea.

His forehead drops to rest on the pillow next to your head, lips brushing your ear as he lets out a low moan. He can’t even savor the way you let out a full-body shudder, fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. Fuck, you’re so tight—Dazai can feel your walls tightening around him, spasming, his breath is shaky, and he tries to distract himself by pressing his lips to your skin, mouthing messily at your skin, sucking and nipping and counting to ten as he tries to settle down.

But it’s hard with the soft sighs you’re letting out, the way your fingers catch on his tousled hair, tugging enough to make his scalp sting. His head is so fogged that he can hardly think straight—god, he’s missed this, he hasn’t had the comfort of letting himself go like this in… since he left, really. His mind is always turning, plotting out ten, twenty, thirty steps in advance in fear of making a mistake, slipping up and letting the rest of the Agency see him for what he is, slipping up and their lives being the price just like with Odasaku. It’s only with you that’s ever comfortable enough to finally let the cogs in his brain slow and shatter, lose himself in carnal pleasures, lose himself in you; it’s been four years since he’s last had a reprieve from his own brain.

But he only lets himself slip halfway—tonight isn’t going to be about him, it’s about you. He has four years to make up for and he intends on getting a good start on it tonight.

He pants quietly as he lifts his head enough to bite your earlobe, tugging it gently before pressing his lips to your temple. “I’ve missed this,” he admits, voice raspy and clogged thick with emotion. “I’ve-”

He can hardly get the words out, and his breath catches when your hands slide from behind his head to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He thinks he must look wrecked—he can already feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and he knows his eyes are probably glazed over. You still look stunning, a soft expression on your face as you look up at him as if he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you. 

Unfair, he thinks mournfully. 

“What're you still holding onto, hm?” you ask, and Dazai only barely registers your words, sinking into your touch as you brush matted hair out of his eyes. He can finally bring himself to roll his hips—experimental, slow, trying to make sure he can actually move before trying to fuck you. Then you sigh softly, and he’s too out of it to try to make out the expression on your face as you say: “You work yourself so hard… always have. I’ve got you, you can let go, Dazai. C’mon.”

“No,” he hums, but his voice is strained, evidence of his struggle. “Tonight’s about my favorite girl.”

“Favorite?” you tease, lifting your shoulders off the bed to ghost a kiss against his lips that nearly has his hips stuttering—the conversation so reminiscent of one that the two of you had at seventeen it almost makes him smile.

“Only,” he amends quietly, kissing your nose, then the corner of your lips, and then nipping your jawline.

Just when he thinks he’s good to actually start picking up the pace, intent on fucking the thoughts out of you until you forget about your stupid flight in the morning, he catches a suspicious expression on your face, one that has his eyes narrowing.

“What?” he asks dubiously; your eyes are glittering in a way that he knows from experience is dangerous. 

You don’t say anything, just look pointedly at your thighs, then up to his shoulders. Dazai tilts his head to the side, recognizing what you want, and after a moment’s hesitation, he slides your legs up above his shoulders, folding them to your chest, eyes nearly rolling back at the new angle. Fuck, his hips do stutter this time, breath hitching. He has to readjust again, mentally focus on not cumming on the spot, and then-

And then you say: “He had my legs like this.”

A trick. 

Dazai knows it. 

You’re trying to make him let go of the thin thread of self-control he still has. To give in. To let all of the gears in his brain finally fall apart for the first time in four years.

He knows it.

He falls for it anyway.

Dazai’s jaw tightens, gaze snapping down to you only to catch a goading look in your eyes, a sly smile on your lips that Dazai has every intention of fucking right off your face. He inhales sharply, one hand sliding up your body to grab your chin, blunt nails digging a bit too deeply into your cheeks.

“Yeah?” he says, voice rough. 

Your lashes flutter and lips part as Dazai pointedly jerks his hips up. Your breath catches over a moan, and Dazai knows that this new angle is affecting you just as much as it is him.

“Mhm,” you agree, and just like that, the thin thread snaps.

He snaps his hips into you so hard that your bedframe bangs loudly against the wall behind it, quickly setting a steady pace, nice and deep, quick enough that you can’t even get a breath of air to your lungs before Dazai is fucking it right out of you. Already, he’s so fucked out that his mind is in shambles, one hand settling on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts his hips into you, hitting that sweet spot with each stroke while his other hand, still cupping your face, slides down to your neck.

He doesn’t squeeze—wouldn’t dare to cut off the pretty noises spilling from your lips, moans of his names, choked gasps and cries between each rock of his hips—but the fact that you trust him, him, enough to have his fingers wrapped around your throat is always a quick way make him topple over the edge.

His eyes dart down to your chest, realizing, very unfortunately, that you haven’t taken off your button-up yet. He nearly bites down on his tongue in frustration as his hand comes down to your chest, careful to keep the pace of his hips as he hooks his fingers around the first button just to yank down, popping off half of the buttons of your expensive dress shirt and haphazardly pulling it off of you to toss it to the side before fumbling with the clip of your bra.

“Osamu,” you hiss, and Dazai revels in the way your voice wavers with each thrust, biting back moans. “That’s the second-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence. Dazai tosses your bra over with your discarded shirt and dips his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before rolling it between his teeth, and you’re gone—Dazai lets out a muffled groan around you as your back arches up into him, crying out his name, walls tightening around him as you cum on his cock.

“Oh-f-hah-fuck,” Dazai gasps as he rests his head on your collarbone, grip on your waist tightening. 

He has to physically force himself to lift his head, bracing his forearm on the mattress next to your head, desperate to see the way your eyes roll back, he can already feel himself teetering over the edge—the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock driving in and out of your cunt, he can feel your cum dripping down his cock, smeared on his pelvis.

His hand slides behind your head, lifting it from where you have it pressed against the mattress. Beautiful—the only thought that can run through his hazy brain is of you and how perfect you are, lips swollen and bitten raw, parted as pitched moans escape them, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as he fucks you through your orgasm and right into a second. He’s the only one that should ever get to see you like this, with your clever brain fucked right and dumb, body writhing against the bed as you cling to him.

He leans down again, trailing sloppy kisses against your neck, gasping as he starts to feel his high approaching.

“No one makes you feel like this,” he says, or maybe he begs, he’s not sure if he’s making a statement or pleading for you to tell him it’s the truth. “Tell me. T-shit-tell me.”

“No one,” you sob over another moan, and Dazai can feel your pussy fluttering around him—he wonders if he’s already fucked you into a third. Usually, it takes longer. “No one, Osamu, you’re the only one.”

And that’s the only thing he needed to hear to give him that final push. His steady pace shifts into a more erratic one, sloppy and desperate, as he chases a high that’s just out of reach. His moans are muffled against your skin, teeth scraping your collarbone, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts of you. He feels your fingers trembling as you lift them to his cheeks, pulling his face up to press your lips against his, and that’s all it takes: he lets out a wanton moan against your mouth, pressing your legs further into your chest as his hips still against your ass, finishing deep inside of you.

Spots dance in his vision, head buzzing and ears ringing; he swears his orgasm lasts an eternity, body shaking and shuddering above you, letting out breathy moans into your mouth. He can feel his cum dribbling out of you, pooling onto the sheets beneath the two of you, so much of it that you can’t even keep it all in you. 

He doesn’t let his lips leave yours once—the kisses are messy and sloppy, devoid of all of the finesse that the two of you usually have, teeth nearly clashing, tongues sliding against each other’s. 

It’s only when his vision finally starts to clear and his head feels less on the verge of passing out does Dazai finally trails kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck before he finally collapses on top of you, mind entirely gone, like he’s floating on clouds. He pants as he tries to catch his breath, eyes lidded as he absently trails kisses along your chest and collarbone. He thinks the world could be ending around the two of you, and Dazai wouldn’t even have the capacity to notice. For the first time in four years, he really, truly allows his brain to rest.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, eyes drooping shut as he lets himself be enveloped by your arms, drowning in the comfort of your scent.

He doesn’t want to know. He’s scared to look at the clock and check.

“Tonight was supposed to be about you,” Dazai finally complains, burying his face in your chest as he pouts.

You only let out a soft laugh above him. “We have the rest of our lives for that… You deserved a break, Osamu.”

The rest of our lives.

Dazai’s throat tightens, vision blurring a bit at the thought—he can only barely bring himself to respond, and the words that slip out are not what he means to say: “I never thought I’d get to be with you like this again,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I never thought-”

“I know,” you interrupt, voice quiet, a bit shaky. “... I know.”

Of course, you know.

He can’t bring himself to say anything else, so he doesn’t, sinking into your arms and allowing himself the comfort he’s deprived himself of for so long. He almost starts to drift off—and god, he can’t remember the last time he’s dozed off willingly, only able to sleep after drinking copious amounts of alcohol or taking an even more copious number of sleeping pills. It’s not until you speak again does he stir back awake from the brink of sleep.

“What did he ask of you? Oda, I mean,” you finally ask, fingers brushing through his dark hair, lulling him further to sleep.

Dazai thinks that you’re cruel, asking him while his mind is still fogged from the exhaustion following his high, and he’s still half asleep in your arms, trying to regain his bearings. The words slip out before he can think twice, forgetting his fear of you laughing at the idea of him trying to be a better man.

“He asked me to be on the side that saves people… if both are the same to me, he wanted me to be a good man.”

The words dawn on him too late; he can hardly bring himself to look up at you, scared that he’s going to find an amused expression on your face or a derisive sneer. He wouldn’t blame you, he’s thought the same about himself ever since he left the Port Mafia, doubt and self-loathing riddling him with every step he takes in the light. He waits for the scoff, he waits for the laugh, he waits for-

“... I think he would be proud of who you’ve become, Osamu. I think you’ve fulfilled his request.”

Dazai does look up at you now, feeling particularly vulnerable, still scared that he might find a mocking expression on your face but he doesn’t. Only an uncharacteristically soft expression is painted on your face as you look up at the ceiling, a genuine one—a small smile and a look in your eyes that makes his heart feel warm. You don’t notice him looking until he lets slip out:

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. 

(I love you, he means)

“I’ve missed you too,” you say back quietly.

(I love you too)

[oikasugayama]

HOW HE F--KS YOU

pt. 1 Dazai, Ranpo, Ango | pt. 2 Chuuya, Kunikida, Tachihara | pt. 3 Poe, Atsushi, Fukuzawa

Complete smutty filth. MDNI. several anatomies but no genders mentioned!!

Dazai

He fucks you possessively.

Whether you're only hooking up or in a relationship, he's making sure you know he's in charge. He's the one giving you pleasure. He's gonna mark you up with hickeys and bruises and make you sore and tired so you remember him later and others might notice where he's been touching you.

He'll definitely say something like "whose pussy/ass is this?" while fucking you hard, holding you down or pressing your body into the mattress. He'll keep asking and keep making you say "it's yours Dazai, this is your pussy" until he's satisfied you not only know it but you believe it. You are his plaything and you're going to know that.

As much as he acts like a brat to piss off his friends, in the bedroom he's a brat tamer. The more whiny and squirmy you are, the more he feels like he has to pin you down and teach you to behave. If you tell him no (in a safe way, of course), say you don't want to, or try to deny him what he wants (still within the confines of your previous consenting arrangements!!), he has to punish you. It's just how it works. His voice gets low and serious when he's pissed, but it makes you even hornier because you know the best fucks you've ever gotten from him are when he's taming you.

He's not opposed to fucking you in public if he feels like you need it, or if he needs to mark his territory. Once you were out together and another man dared to hit on you and touch you while Dazai was right there. Instead of getting mad at the man, Dazai invited him to sit with the two of you. The man only left when he eventually realized that as soon as you sat down Dazai started feeling you up and fingering/stroking you under the table.

Ranpo

He fucks you lazily.

His favorite position involves both of you on your sides, your back to his chest, and his dick inside you. He likes when you squirm back onto him, he likes thrusting lazily into you, he likes playing with your nipples from behind you, he likes nibbling on your shoulder/neck and saying filthy things in your ear.

Sex can last for hours on your laziest days. Every time he feels an orgasm build, he stops moving, just cockwarms in you for a while, and eventually you start squirming or he gets impatient and thrusts again.

Ranpo is also fond of face-sitting. You sitting on his face, of course. He doesn't much care to have his ass eaten, (though he does let you if you ask) but he eats you out like a champ. Maybe it's all the experience he has licking on lollipops and sucking sugar off his fingers, but who's to say. Regardless, his tongue is vicious and unrelenting and when he gets his fingers involved he can get you to cum on his face in less than 3 minutes.

When he gets you super overstimulated he knows you'll squirt for him. That's his favorite time to get you on his face, because he wants you to squirt on him. He wants to lap it up and gulp it down. He's a cum eater for sure and he doesn't care what other fluids are in the squirt-- he wants to drink it.

Ango

He fucks you guiltily.

He loves you. You are not allowed to know that. He told himself that he could only mess around with you if he kept you at an arm's length. It's for your own good, really. For your protection. He's too wanted. Too hated. Anyone dear to him will be taken away. It's better that no one knows how he really feels about you, not even you.

But he can't stop himself from seeing you. It's so easy to walk by your office and stand in the doorway. So easy to close the door behind him when you invite him in. So easy to fall to his knees in front of you and kiss up your thighs as you spread them. He eats you out like he's worshiping you. His tongue may move slowly, but he has a pattern he follows-- a flick here, a suckle there-- and it always gets you to cum.

He won't ever stop unless he's sure you've orgasmed. When you sneak into his apartment, or he sneaks into yours, he'll suck till his jaw is sore or thrust until his thighs are quaking. He'll cramp and hurt and exhaust himself but he will not stop until you're satisfied. After all, it's his only time with you. He's happy for it to last a long time.

His favorite position is missionary because he likes to look at you, right there in front of him, the person of his dreams. Your face twists up so cutely. The hot breath you expel when you moan sends shivers down his spine. He likes every hair, lump, bump, scar, jiggle that your body has to offer. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed with how much he wants needs you that he has to hide his face against your neck and fight back tears while he keeps rutting into you, hoping you don't notice anything's wrong.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

i see so many chuuya fics where he’s a player/a womanizer. and while those are all fun and beautifully written, i just have this gut feeling that chuuya is loyal as hell.

this is the guy that jumped off a helicopter and fought a literal dragon for a man he claims he doesn’t even like. imagine what he’d do for someone he loves, someone he has yet to lose and is terrified of losing.

all he wants to do is love you. he’s protective, but not possessive by any means. his time in the mafia has made him so aware of everything that could possibly harm you. even if its a 5 minute walk back to your place, he’ll drive you. if you’re out at a bar, he’ll hold your drink and/or keep an eye on all the other guys around you. he’s always practicing the sidewalk rule, always giving you his coat, and always reminding you that he would do anything and everything for you.

he knows that you’re a point of interest for enemy organizations. that because your his s/o, you’re a target for ransom or worse as a means to get back at him. and because of that, he’s constantly worrying. if even something feels off, he’ll call you, if not rushing to be by your side. you have to remind him that you aren’t made of glass.

oh, and god forbid you are actually taken captive. the world will see a side of him that he luckily keeps hidden.

[chuuyrr]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 .ᐟ

feat: dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ CW(s): gn! reader, mentions of alcohol (reader is drunk)

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you drink too much and don't even realize that your boyfriend is your boyfriend or you might as well be drunk in love

in the dimly lit bar, the air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. you found yourself swirling the remnants of a colorful cocktail, the room around you blurring as the night progressed.

DAZAI sits beside you, and couldn't help but notice your flushed-pink demeanor, fueled by the drinks you had consumed, and giggles to himself.

in your tipsy state, you tilt your head, looking at dazai with a playful suspicion. the room spun slightly, and you sway on your seat, trying to focus on his face.

"you know," you slur, "you're a suspicious stranger. i bet you've got some secret agenda." you point an accusing finger at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

dazai, amused by your playful accusations, couldn't help but giggle even more, "oh, do i now? well, i'm just a harmless 'stranger' who happened to find the most adorable drunk person in the entire bar."

you raise an eyebrow skeptically, still not recognizing him, "adorable, huh? well, mr. stranger-fanger, you're gonna have to prove it." you cross your arms, a challenging smirk on your flushed face.

dazai, seizing the opportunity, wraps his arms around you with a mockingly serious expression, "see? no danger here, just a guy who appreciates adorable drunks."

you broke into a fit of giggles, melting into his embrace, "well, you're not that bad for a stranger, i guess."

completely unaware that the 'stranger' was, in fact, your boyfriend, you continued to enjoy the whimsical dance of laughter and teasing, creating a memory that would undoubtedly be cherished in the days to come.

"i'm gonna be serious though, i am your boyfriend," dazai says to you.

you blink softly at him, your tipsy-drunk state had somehow lead you to look at him as such. dazai blinks back before a grin starts to tug on his lips.

"do i have to remind my dearest? well, then. buckle up because you're in for a treat!" he says before he instantly starts peppering your face in kisses as he holds you tightly.

you immediately start to squeal and giggle as you are reminded of the constant kisses that your boyfriend would give you admist the alcohol in your system.

"osamuuu!" you say in a soft whine before he pecks your lips.

dazai grins even more widely at your cute little whine as he cups your face now, "that's more like it. goodness, such an adorable drunk you are, hmm?"

CHUUYA watches with a mix of concern and amusement as your cheerful demeanor transformed into a tipsy state.

as the night wore on, chuuya decides it was time to take you home. he gently placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, trying to capture your attention, "hey, it's getting late. how about we head home?" he suggests, his voice warm and caring.

however, in your inebriated state, you misinterpreted the situation. you gasp sharply before you squirm in your seat and whine softly, "nooo, i'm having so much fun here! plus, you can't take me home! i have a boyfriend!"

chuuya was flabbergasted, but he couldn't help but chuckle at your resistance afterwards upon seeing this, "come on, baby, i'm not a stranger. i'm your boyfriend, and I just want to make sure you get home safely."

now it's you blinking softly, looking at him with a mix of confusion and innocence, "boyfriend? really?" you giggle, completely unaware of the true nature of your relationship.

"you're being so silly right now, i almost can't with you," chuuya sighs, still laughing softly, "geez, i didn't know my baby can be this forgetful with this much alcohol."

undeterred, chuuya continued to coax you gently, his amusement growing as you stare at him in awe as you begin to pat his cheeks in your warm hands, "this pretty face is all mine?"

chuuya chuckles again, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he takes your hands in his before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on your lips and whispering, "i'm all yours, baby."

the night unfolded in a blend of laughter, warmth, and the endearing challenge of convincing you that the 'stranger' was, in fact, the person who cared for you the most, and you couldn't help but giggle even more into the kiss.

FYODOR observes your increasing intoxication with a measured gaze, a sense of concern clouding his usually composed demeanor.

as the night unfolds, you continued to enjoy the array of drinks that nikolai had generously provided you two. fyodor, recognizing the potential consequences, decided it was time to intervene. he places a hand gently on your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"dear, perhaps it's time to slow down," fyodor suggests, his voice calm and measured as he tries to get you to stop.

you looked at him with a tipsy grin, oblivious to the fact that fyodor was your boyfriend, "but nikolai is just being generous. no harm in a few more, riiight?"

fyodor's piercing gaze held a mixture of concern and determination, "i'd rather not see you regretting this tomorrow. let's enjoy the night responsibly," he insists, attempting to guide you away from the tempting allure of more drinks.

however, in your intoxicated state, you resisted his efforts, misinterpreting his intentions, "oh, come on! live a little, stranger!" you playfully tease, unaware that fyodor was the person you were romantically involved with.

fyodor couldn't help but hide a small smile at your playful antics, though he inwardly feels a twinge of sadness at being referred to as a stranger, maintained his composure.

he observes you with a subtle sadness in his eyes, a fleeting emotion that betrayed the depth of his feelings. still, he wasn't one to give up easily.

with a gentle touch, he cupped your face, making you meet his gaze, "remember, i'm the one who cares deeply for you," he murmurs with a faint smile, his eyes staring in yours.

"i may be a stranger in this particular scenario, but i am not to you," fyodor replies softly, realizing that your drunken state was proving to be a barrier. yet, he didn't relent.

the realization began to dawn on you, your intoxicated mind slowly connecting the dots, "wait a minute... you care about me? really?"

fyodor nods, his eyes holding a mixture of hope and longing, "more than you can imagine."

you blink softly, still processing the situation through the haze of alcohol. before you could react, fyodor leaned in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss against your lips. the touch was tender yet filled with an unspoken depth of emotion, an attempt to bridge the gap that had momentarily separated you.

as the kiss unfolded, a subtle warmth spread through you, and the fog of intoxication seemed to lift momentarily. the taste of familiarity mingled with the hint of sadness, creating a poignant moment that transcended the blurred boundaries of the night. fyodor then pulls away, his gaze searching yours for any signs of recognition.

there was a pause, a moment of suspended realization. slowly, your eyes widened, and a spark of recognition flickered within them. "wait," you whisper, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and clarity as you smile. "you're not a stranger, only my fedya kisses me like that!"

a soft smile tugged at the corners of fyodor's lips as the weight of being called a stranger lifted. the kiss had served as a catalyst, a bridge that connected the fragments of memory scattered in the alcohol-induced haze.

"my, my, how could you forget your fedya, dear?" fyodor sighs, shaking his head before he kisses your lips again and whispers, "traitor.."

ꨄ˙ A.N.: i feel like i might have written fyodor in an ooc-ish way, and if i did, i apologize !! haven't written for him in so long and i don't write for him as often as dazai and chuuya. this is also kinda silly i think now that i've finished writing this lol !! thank you so much for reading until the end (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[riiwrites]

boyfriend!chuuya who…

a/n : i’ve decided to make this into a series so please suggest who you’d like to see next :)

a/n : i tried to make this one gender neutral but it’s more hinted towards female reader as it’s mentioned when they first meet, but you can always just skip to the boyfriend part as always

warnings : stormbringer spoilers(?), mentions of insecurity

dazais version | atsushis version

masterlist | taglist | main page

dividers belong to @/benkeibear !

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who saved you when some scumbag from town took your purse/bag.

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who wasn’t even on duty that day and was browsing through town until he saw a very distressed you.

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who’s heart does a little flip when he sees you look up at him with tear filled eyes and a kind smile to say ‘thank you’ for retrieving your belongings and that you’re his hero.

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who’s eyes widen as he coughs a bit awkwardly and averts his gaze before saying..

“Ah, uhm..don’t worry about it. Damn bastards like that don’ even deserve to be near the presence of a woman.” He says, slowly averting his gaze back to your glossy eyes. God, why was his stomach doing even more flips than he could ever imagine?

Your smile only grows wider as you reach into your once stolen purse/bag and pull out your phone, unlocking it and holding it out to him. He looks at it for a few moments before you speak.

“Let me make it up to you, next time I’m in town we’ll go out for a drink, it’s the least I could do.”

And to his own surprise, he reluctantly accepts, taking your phone and putting his phone number in, handing it back to you.

As if your smile could grow any bigger, it does.

“Chuuya, huh? I’ll see you around.”

As you turn around and walk away with his number saved, he stares at you from afar as you become a blur in the distance. He doesn’t know why he felt what he felt to someone random so fast, but he knew one thing. He needed to see that smile again.

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who low-key keeps checking his phone every now and again to wait for your text, eyes widening slightly as he sees you have.

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who can’t help but let out a little smirk and chuckle as he reads your texts.

pre-boyfriend!chuuya who finally takes you out on a few dates and by the third one, you’re finally his.

boyfriend!chuuya who doesn’t do much physical touch at first, wanting to be respectful.

boyfriend!chuuya who begins to wrap his arm around your waist or shoulder in public when you give him the green light.

boyfriend!chuuya who has his hand on your thigh when you’re sitting down.

boyfriend!chuuya who holds your hand and does the thumb thing.

boyfriend!chuuya who never initiates affection unless it’s hand holding or waist holding because he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but if you wanted that he’d give you what you want.

boyfriend!chuuya who holds your cheek in his palm and strokes your tears away when you’re crying.

boyfriend!chuuya who gives your hand a reassuring squeeze when you’re anxious in public or in general.

boyfriend!chuuya who likes to take you out to fancy dinners, not all the time but on occasions.

boyfriend!chuuya who separates his work life from his love life, so you don’t become a target.

boyfriend!chuuya who wishes the flags were here to meet you.

boyfriend!chuuya who picks you up from any place during night, forcing you to wait there as he doesn’t want you to walk home yourself.

boyfriend!chuuya who trusts you to go out by yourself and do what you want as long as you’re not in danger, but would like a checkup every few hours.

boyfriend!chuuya who doesn’t judge you for what you wear, thinks it’s his choice and whoever has a problem can take it up with him.

boyfriend!chuuya who doesn’t care because he knows how to fight.

boyfriend!chuuya who kisses your knuckles as a greeting when he sees you.

boyfriend!chuuya who cleans your apartment/house for you for when you come back home.

boyfriend!chuuya who dates to marry

boyfriend!chuuya who never lets either one of you go to bed angry or upset.

boyfriend!chuuya who actually talks it out and wants you to speak to him when somethings wrong.

boyfriend!chuuya who always takes you drinking with him, having you try different ones to pick the best choice.

boyfriend!chuuya who keeps in mind which one is your favourite as it is now his go to drink.

boyfriend!chuuya who’s favourite sign of affection is kisses.

boyfriend!chuuya who rests his chin on the top of your head when sleeping.

boyfriend!chuuya who buys you a expensive and specific perfume so that he can remember your scent.

boyfriend!chuuya who always gets you flowers when you go on a date, it’s a must.

boyfriend!chuuya who lets you sit on his lap whilst he does work, resting his chin on top of the top of your head as he scribbles away.

boyfriend!chuuya who easily carries you when you’re too tired to walk or if you’re about to step in mud or a puddle.

boyfriend!chuuya who puts his jacket on the concrete floor so you can step on it just so you don’t get your shoes dirty.

boyfriend!chuuya who can read you like an open book, instantly noticing you’re upset.

boyfriend!chuuya who kisses your insecurities.

You were in the changing room with him as you were trying on different clothes, him with a slight smile and you with a very noticeable frown. Chuuya can’t help but notice as he also reflects your expression, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your stomach, peering over your shoulder.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, clear concern evident in his voice and on his face.

“I just..” You start, unable to finish your next few words.

“You just..?”

“Feel so ugly..” You mumble.

Chuuyas expression shifts to a concerned look to a rather confused one, furrowing his eyebrows as he fully turns you around by the shoulders to face him.

“Don’t say that shit ever again.” He says sternly, noticing the way your bottom lip wobbles and your eyes become glossy once again. He takes your hand in his and begins kissing your knuckles, then kissing up your arm, then to your neck and then to your face. He kisses your nose before pulling away.

“Do you even know how much I love this damn face?” He begins, kissing your two cheeks and chin as you begin giggling, sniffling as tears stroll down your cheeks like a gentle waterfall.

“I can’t even begin to talk about how much I’m in love with this perfect face and body. Sometimes, i don’t understand why you’d wanna go for a guy like me..” He finishes, smiling comfortingly as he strokes your hair as you cry softly with a sweet smile on your face.

“I-..I love you, Chuuya..”

He pauses, his smile fading as his expression becomes surprised, but then his face lighting up as he picks you up and spins you around the small cubicle, you squealing.

“And I love ya too damn much.”

boyfriend!chuuya who realises after that he’s head over heels for you.

boyfriend!chuuya who talks about you to Kouyou, wanting to know how he can make you the happiest.

boyfriend!chuuya who believes you deserve the world, so he’s gonna give you it.

boyfriend!chuuya who in a world full of boys.. - he’s a gentleman. ❤︎︎

TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @mackereland-slug @heartsfourdazai @iratherowan @onlinewhisper14 @nomnomventi @silverbladexyz @inojuuy @boarcide @poedostoevsky11 @kissesmellow21 @star-light18464 @aliyahgracedrawing @chuuyathehatrack @boredwithwrath @akutagawasimp87 @rainy-dazie @lone-ray @ishqani @fun-cats @wefureko-blog @hoicacti @endy917 @dazaiiiosamuu @seikkoh

white = unable to be tagged :(

@/riiwrites reblogs are always appreciated ❤︎︎

[lit3rallyll0yd]

heeeello, I wanted to order the bungou stray dogs guys with a s/o who always cries when she drinks, like she's a bigger lightweight than Chuuya and also gets really clingy when she's drunk

bsd men with a lightweight, clingy soulmate

dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa, kunikida, ranpo

warnings: drinking, lowercase writing, short because i feel crappy</3

a/n: writing with nails is a pain, but not impossible!!

taglist: @justcallmesakira @atlasnessie @riiwrites @silverbladexyz <3 luv u guys!! comment to be added!!!

dazai

finds it absolutely adorable when you sob at the smallest of things when you drink.

first time he witnessed your lightweight behavior, it was your friends 18th birthday party and you were offered a drink...then it escalated to more then two...

he found you on the floor of the guest room with your friend, who was embarrassed for you.

"she was fine when you left, but then i heard her cry, saying you left her forever..."

he shakes his head with a soft smile, and motions your friend to leave.

when they did, he walked to your figure and brushed your hair out of the way of your face.

"my sweet'bella~ missed me that much~" he teased and kissed your cheek softly as you stared up at him and wrapped your arms around him and cuddled into his arms.

"i was gone for a mere 5 minutes.."

"hic- ihit felt like hic- 5 years.."

you closed your eyes and fell asleep in his arms, not feeling his soft lips kiss your head and rock you back and forth on the floor.

he wrapped his trench around you when he decided to sleep with you on the floor as well.

he made sure to keep in mind, "just 5 drinks...it's all it takes.."

chuuya

"CHUUUUYYYAHahahaa..."

"WHAT-what happened?!"

your eyes were watery, and your nose was runny

"i banged my knee..."

you came home drunk off your mind, and he already knew he was going to have to deal with your hangover, so he took the responsibly to take care of you.

you were on your knees on the carpet of your bedroom floor, making grabby hands at your boyfriend who sighed loudly, closing the door after him as he walked toward your body.

he lifts you up with a grunt and sat down on the bed with you on his lap, his hand rubbing your knee as you sniffled into his sleeve of his t-shirt.

it's only been 2 hours, and chuuya was ready to pass out because it was almost like he was taking care of a toddler.

"i thought you feel asleep, 2 hours ago!" he complained, now combing his fingers through your hair.

"i waaaassss!!!"

"then why aren't you?"

"ihi feel off reaching for the remoooote!!" you hung off his arms and your head rested on your pillow and closed your eyes.

chuuya couldn't move; however he didn't want to move.

he looked at you and chuckled softly before pressing a kiss to your arm that rested on your lap ontop of him.

atsushi

please, my boy is so confused

he had the same amount of alcohol as you, and your more drunk then a child on a sugar high.

your clinging onto him for the rest of the night, sobbing into his sleeve the moment you lose him and find him again.

"y/n...i went to go to the bathroom!"

"I THOUGHT YOU LEFT ME FOREVERRR!!!!"

he gives 10x the hugs and kisses you want.

at home, he would try to put you to sleep in your own bed while he sleeps on the couch because right now, although he helped you bathe for 30 minutes you still smelled like alcohol, and you kick in your sleep when you get like this.

he would know, he learned the hard why :(

"NAHO!! dohon't leeeeave!!"

"ow-ow-ow, y/n that's my hair- OW!!"

you ended up pulling him into your arms and wrapped your legs around his torso and fell asleep in two seconds.

he didn't fight you and just kissed your head and combed his fingers through your hair.

akutagawa

so, he doesn't drink as much as you think.

so seeing you get drunk after 4 drinks; he decided to keep you away from alcohol as much as he can....but he didn't know how without it seem like he was controlling.

the two of you were still at the bar, however you kept poking at his cheek in a way to annoy him.

"ryu...ryu..psst...ryu?"

"y/n!"

he glared at you, and you just giggled.

"hehe you look pissed!"

he took a deep breath in and out and looked at you, "and you're drunk..."

"PFFT!"

you cackled, slapping his arm and clung onto it soon after..

"mm..you have such strong arms~"

was that meant to fluster him?

well, it did.

he blushed and pushed you away, but you came right back, poking his bicep.

you closed your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"child. you are a literal child.." he rolled his eyes, interlocking his fingers with yours.

he stopped talking to take notice to your soft snoring, the bar was barely full, and the clocked read 11: 45...without any other choice, he took you to your place...making sure you woke up with at least some memory of tonight.

kunikida

"y/n. i'm working.."

"ahand i'm the president!!"

"more like drunk.."

you pulled his cheek and pinched his nose at the same time, making him look like a deformed potato.

he knews how lightweight you are, he made sure to write it down. he also made sure to write down how mnay drinks it takes for you to get drunk...which is 5...only 5.

to this day, he still has no idea how you do it!

he's not a pda kinda guy, so when ypu keep touching him or poking him when he doesn't know he will tie you up, i kid you not, you know how dazai tied up atsushi in that one episode with the mushroom- yeah...

"kuniiiiiiii!-OWAHAO!" you whined, falling off the chair he tied you in and banged your head on the floor.

he turned to see you on the floor and tears roll down your face.

he looked at you with a deadpan expression and you only cried more, rubbing your eyes as you still laid on the floor.

with a sigh, he stands from his desk and walked toward you, hoisting you up in his arms and rested you on another desk and checked your head.

"you're fine, y/n...just banged your head a little..." he kissed your wound and hugged you in a way to get you to stop crying.

even though it was a small bump, when your drunk like this; even a feather could hurt you.

ranpo

he knew.

he already knew by your first sip he will have to deal with what was about to come his way.

and he was okay with that.

he LOVES it when you act all baby around him; t's almost like he's now in control and can just say anything and you'll agree.

your face was buried into the table you and yosano sat at, and your muffled sobs caught the attention from others at the bar.

she sighs and takes a sip of wine before noticing ranpo return, "ranpo, come get your girlfriend...she thought i was you 10 times now!"

you felt someone's hands on your shoulder and you looked up to see ranpo smirking down at you, "i';m wounded...we don't even look alike...is she that drunk?" he teased, kissing your inner lip and you whined, the dried tears on your cheeks gave you an uncomfy feeling.

"nooo- kiss me properly!!" you begged, making grabby hands at you and he laughed; "no, i don't think you deserve any~ you can't even recognize your own boyfriend?!"

after you whining, ranpo gave into you and kissed your lips more times then you haved asked for.

but are you complaing?

nope!

[starlightshadowsworld]

Random headcannons I have about the Agency living in the dorms.

Atsushi is banned from cleaning and doing any chores other than his own. Because he cleans like he's back in the Orphanage.

Dazai is banned from the kitchen indefinitely after setting it on fire on his first day while making toast at 4am.

There's a whiteboard in the communal area with everyones daily tasks, a shopping list, who's turn it is to do certain things etc.

There's also a drawing from Kenji to brighten everyone's morning and yes it's usually a cow.

Infact a lot of his and Kyouka's drawings having been put on the walls and fridge. Along with some of Dazai's... Well after Kunikida deemed them appropriate of course.

They have weekly movie nights where they write titles of what they want to watch and than draw them out of a hat at random.

Said hat has sometimes ended up being Chuuya's hat (Dazai stole it.) It's gotten to where the door is left unlocked for Chuuya to charge in (without breaking down the door) and retrieve his hat.

Sometimes they manage to convince him to stay and watch movies with them. If he does, he's not allowed to sit next to Dazai because they'll argue throughout the whole thing.

Kyouka and Junichiro like to bake together and whenever they do Ranpo is always the first to offer to taste test.

There's jars with everyones names on them known as the bail jars. Kunikida's is used the most out of everyone else's.

The older members go for a night out of drinking on Friday nights. They invite Katai (as they do with movie nights) and each of them take turns being the designated driver.

But this doesn't always go to plan and on those days Junichiro will show up to drive them back to the dorms. (Listen if the kid can pilot a helicopter I think he can drive a car.)

The underaged members of the Agency will have a game night. They play a punch of video and board games, sometimes as teams and other times individually.

The points are added up and the winner is declared.

It's fair because the younger members of the Agency can't drink and the older ones are banned from game night. Because they get way to over competitive, looking at you Yosano.

No ones allowed to bring work home with them. Atsushi and Kunikida break this rule constantly and have been reprimanded by the others.

When there's unrest around them, someone's having nightmares, or it's an anniversary of a tragedy, whatever it is on those nights where one or all of them are struggling they all have a sleepover in the communal area.

They all take their blankets and keep each other close. Sometimes they'll talk and sometimes they won't. They just need everyone close.

Fukuzawa doesn't live in the dorms but he lives nearby and drops in regularly to check up on everyone.

[chuuyascumsock]

Where Gay Goes to Die || Minors DNI

Summary: I have no words, and no apology because this actually slapped so hard. Let’s go lesbians lmao. Happy pride month.

Tags: Female! Chuuya Nakahara/Reader/Fem! Osamu Dazai, Afab reader, Threesome, Brief Voyeurism, Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Belladonna, Love, Pretty Girl, etc.), Classic Dazai-Chuuya Bickering, Fingering, Nipple Play, Hair Pulling, Face Sitting, Squirting, Strap-on Use, Slight Bit of Aftercare, Hints of a Poly At The End, Idk Maybe I’ll Make a Part Two, Haven't Decided, Honestly Downright Filthy Smut, Literally Wanna Be Stuffed Between Them Like a Sub Sandwich.

How you ended up in bed between your co-worker and her ex-partner from the mafia was a mystery to you. 

One minute you were having drinks with the ADA earlier that night before slinking off to grab another drink from the bar. And the next you were being complimented by one of the five mafia executives herself who was sitting nearby, Nakahara Chuuya. You’ve never had anyone so boldly eye fuck you while smoothly commenting on the way you fought during one of your missions— and against their organization no less. Chuuya was ethereally beautiful, her russet tresses fell over her freckled shoulders, sleek dress hugging her physique tightly to reveal her curves. The most captivating characteristic of hers had to be her heterochromatic eyes, soft blue and brown that sealed your fate as she dragged you away from the bar shortly after your interaction.

Dazai had only noticed your disappearance after she was finished with her Sake. Whining and complaining to Kunikida about how much she missed you, Kunikida scoffed and fixed her glasses. “The last I saw her was talking to the bartender.”

Dazai was quick to jump to her feet and trail off to the bar, only to find no one but the bartender there. When asked, the bartender nodded his head off to the back door that led to an alleyway with a small warning that you had left with a woman described way too familiar with Dazai. Not only was it Dazai’s ex-partner back in the mafia, but you had fought against her just the other day. Dazai felt off when approaching the door, weary of what to expect.

Entering the alleyway, Dazai hadn’t been expecting to see Chuuya feeling your soft body up with her gloved hands while shoving her tongue down your throat and vice versa. 

It took minutes for either of you to notice Dazai’s presence, too caught up in one another to see her staring you down as Chuuya had her way with you. The woman had tugged at the neckline of your tight dress, freeing your breasts to the cold air for the brunette to see before cupping and squeezing them. Your soft and cute mewls had both women wanting more as Chuuya’s lips captured yours again in a sloppy kiss.

Something in Dazai snapped and she knew that there was no more hiding her want for you behind sweet, charismatic smiles and adoring looks from across the office. She cleared her throat, a small gasp of surprise leaving you and not much of a reaction from Chuuya. 

“The hell do you want, shitty Dazai?” Chuuya nearly rolled her eyes as she kept your plush tits groped and spilling between her gloved hands. 

“What are you doing here?” You timidly ask, embarrassed for getting caught, especially with someone who was supposed to be the agency’s enemy.

Dazai kept her composure. “You were gone for too long so I came looking for you— but I see that you’re busy.” She completely ignores Chuuya for the time being.

“Sorry…” You whisper bashfully, head tilting down in shame.

“Well she’s perfectly fine, so you can leave now,” Chuuya grumbles, leaning forward to litter your throat with more hickies.

“I don’t think so— it’d be a shame for the president and Mori to find out what’s happening right now. Why don’t we talk about this at your place, hm, Chibi?” Dazai was clearly planning something.

And that something ended up with you sandwiched between both women in Chuuya’s king sized bed— Dazai’s long, manicured fingers stuffed in your cunt to the knuckles while Chuuya’s tongue entangled with yours, her calloused hand pinching one of your nipples between her fingers.

The loud squelching of your pussy around Dazai’s fingers makes your ears burn as you moan into Chuuya’s mouth, kisses growing messy and mostly tongue filled. Dazai grins in satisfaction as she presses a thumb to rub at your throbbing clit, enjoying every second of your soft walls clenching around her fingers. “Look at how cute her pussy is, Chuuya. Such a needy little slut— wanting both of us at once.”

Chuuya’s lips disconnect from yours, leaving a small string of saliva to break apart from your panting mouths. “Can’t you keep your big mouth shut for three seconds? You’re ruining the mood with your annoying voice,” She mutters in irritation at Dazai’s voice while looking anyway, her gaze glued to your slick pussy as Dazai’s fingers thrust back inside. Chuuya bites into her bottom lip at the scene momentarily before moving back to marking your neck up with love bites.

Dazai blissfully ignores Chuuya’s snippy comment, curling her long fingers to rub into a certain spot that makes your thighs quiver. “She’s so soft, I bet she tastes good too.” The brunette hums thoughtfully, her eyes trailing from your soaked pussy up to your eyes. “Do you?” She smiles mockingly, watching you stumble incoherently over your words into a muddle of whimpers. Her bottom lip juts out into a small pout as she continues to taunt you. “Oh, poor baby… can’t even talk— do my fingers feel that good?”

There’s a small wince as you feel Chuuya sink her teeth into your shoulder just slightly harder than the other bites when Dazai talks, most likely annoyed by how much more she was doing. Wanting more attention, Chuuya growls out, “Oh please, she’ll be crying over my strap compared to your lousy fingers.” 

“Toys? A bit of a cheater, aren’t you, Chuuya? Can’t satisfy her on your own?” Dazai finally responds, mockery evident in her tone.

“Keep talking and I’ll throw your ass out to walk home in the cold.” Chuuya glares at Dazai before she moves away from you momentarily to crawl over to her nightstand to grab out a bottle of lube, harness, and a relatively long dildo. 

Your face must’ve shown just how intimidating the size of the toy was as Dazai gives a light laugh. “Too big for you, darling? Bet you wanna keep my fingers,” She says in a sing-song voice, curling her digits once more. It’s enough to distract you momentarily from their bickering as you feel a familiar feeling building in your lower tummy.

“Relax, doll. It’s only eight inches,” Chuuya sighs nonchalantly, already strapping the harness around her hips and prepping the silicon toy with a thick glob of lube. The sight of Chuuya slicking the toy up with her hand only makes you clench tighter around Dazai’s digits.

“Well some of us aren’t as loose as you are, Chuuya-dear.” Dazai gives a faux innocent smile, malice clear in her eyes and tone. Her fingers falter a bit at Chuuya’s next words.

“You’ve got to be out of your damn mind to talk— you should be considered a fucking graveyard at this point with how many bones you’ve had in you.” Chuuya scoffs, slapping Dazai’s hand away from you as she grabs one of your ankles with her other hand to drag you to her.

You give a small whine, eyes hazy as your orgasm was ripped away from you. 

Chuuya’s gaze falls back to a softer expression as she looks down at you, “I got you, doll.” Her hands move over to grab your hips and lift them until your lower back and ass are resting on the tops of her thighs, bright purple dildo resting between your ass cheeks.

“Well now you’re just being unfair,” Dazai complains, voice pitchy as she gives Chuuya a nasty look.

Before Chuuya could make a snippy remark about her leaving, you reach to lightly tap the brunette’s knee, signaling her to straddle your head. “Just so no one is left out…” You murmur, flustered.

“Well aren’t you just a sweetheart?” Dazai’s mopey expression washes away quickly as she shifts to make her way across the bed to straddle her knees on either side of your head. Her head tilts down to look at you, lips pulled back into a grin and lithe fingers threading into your hair. “You look cute between my legs, ‘donna…” 

Your eyes lull as your gaze drops from her face to her  cleanly shaven pussy, folds practically drooling with arousal which makes your mouth water. You nearly forget about the strap-on nudging against your entrance until it’s pushing in with no warning, the bulbous tip stretching you back open, though not as much as Dazai’s fingers had been. As your lips part to gasp at the sensation, Dazai is lowering herself down until your mouth is enveloping her, your tongue pushing through her folds and labia to lap along her tight hole.

You think you could drown in these women and let them fuck you until you’re nothing but a mindless, pussy-drunk slut for them, your hands coming up to grip into Dazai’s bandaged thighs and your hips jerking to take Chuuya’s strap deeper. And they don’t even keep it from you, letting you have your way as Dazai settles her weight fully onto you and Chuuya shifts to slip deeper into your aching core, walls greedily clutching around the dildo. Your moans are muffled by Dazai, your tongue laving through her succulent pink cunt, clit throbbing wildly against your muscle. She isn’t sweet like how it’s always described, a musky arousal evading your senses— but it isn’t unpleasant and it has you slurping noisily at her sloppy pussy loudly, making her moan and buck gently against your mouth.

It’s overwhelming how they both selfishly take as much as they give, Dazai’s free hand reaching behind her to rub your clit as she rides your face and Chuuya is sinking into you to the hilt and pulling away to create a tortuous pace, her hands gripping into the flesh of your hips. Your ears are muffled and you can’t tell if it’s from the pleasure or Dazai’s thighs pressing to your ears, hips rolling down to hump against your wriggling tongue.

“O-Oh, fuck, look at you… made for eating this pussy, huh, ‘donna?” Dazai groans, her fingers tightening in your hair painfully which causes you to gently scrape your teeth along her clit. She gasps and releases your hair slightly, fixing it almost apologetically and pets it down, her other hand now resting to cup your mound, middle and ring fingers gently rubbing circles into your clit.

You don’t let the stinging sensation in your scalp bother you when Chuuya’s pace picks up and her hips are slapping against yours, thighs jiggling each time she fucks the dildo deeper into your sopping pussy. That and Dazai’s insistent rubbing against your clit has that coil tightening in your lower abdomen once more. You wish you could see the way Chuuya thrusts into your eager pussy, the loud squelching of the dlido fucking into you being all you had to know how good she was treating it. 

“Shit… look at you taking it all, dollface— your pretty pussy is sucking me in so. damn. tight,” Chuuya growls, hips slapping harsher with punctuated words, your body jolting with choked breaths. 

“Don’t be so rough with her,” Dazai chides, not really caring about her being rough, but wanting to piss Chuuya off.

It works as Chuuya glares at Dazai and only picks up the pace, thighs stinging with each thrust as you feel her skin slap against yours and her grip grow tighter on your hips. “Don’t tell me how to fuck my girl, shitty Dazai.”

“Your girl?” Dazai humorlessly laughs out before letting out a small moan from your mouth sucking at her clit again. “Please— after this, she’s with me. I’m just nice enough to share this once.”

“Like hell, I made a move first, go find someone else to whore around with,” A huff leaves Chuuya, but her pace doesn’t change and neither does Dazai’s fingers against your clit. It has your mind reeling and body twitching, nearly teetering the edge of a climax— not that either woman noticed as they continued to bicker. 

“Well I SAW her first, I called dibs. Besides, she works at the agency with me so that means that she’ll be coming back with me anyways. You lose, face it, Chibi.”

“Doesn’t matter if you saw her first, you’re just mad that I acted before you did. You’re such a petulant child, can’t even handle losing to me for once.”

“That’s because I didn’t lose, she’s mine.”

“Oh, you fuckin’ bitch—“

Their arguing is cut off by a loud muffled whine from you and an orgasm that has your body shuddering deeply, your pussy creaming all over the purple dildo. A small, frothy ring of your cum forms around the base with each thrust, leaving the two women to finally quiet down as they watch, movements faltering to a slow pace momentarily.

“Fuck… I wanna make her squirt now,” Chuuya exhales quietly.

Dazai nods slowly before murmuring, “Finally, something we can agree on.”

You pick up on their muttering and let out a muffled groan into Dazai’s pussy in attempts to disagree, not sure if you were able to take another orgasm, but it falls upon deaf ears and their movements pick back up to a frenzied mess now.

You squirm beneath them, eyes squeezing shut and limbs spasming as they overstimulate your flushed pussy, folds puffy and clit thrumming as Dazai adds even more pressure to your sensitive nub. You try so hard to focus on Dazai’s rutting against your mouth, but it’s difficult when they’re double teaming you like this and Dazai takes over, allowing her hips to grind down on your face. Her clit bumps against your nose and your tongue occasionally slips into her clenching hole, serving her just enough as she tries to desperately reach her own climax.

“C’mon, hun, let go for us, yeah? We know you can come again— wanna see you squirt, baby,” Dazai pants out, her bangs sticking to her forehead from the sheen of sweat she was working up. You can’t see Chuuya, but you know she must look similar to Dazai’s state.

Your head feels like it’s underwater and you can’t help but give into what the two women want, thighs clamping around Chuuya’s waist as your eyes flutter closed and your second orgasm crashes over you more intensely to the point your ears start to ring. A stream of arousal squirts out, splashing against Dazai’s fingers and Chuuya’s lower abdomen. A soft gasp slips from their lips and Dazai can’t help but come at the sight, her viscous cum coating your tongue and slipping down your throat like honey. It’s a pleasant feeling and tastes almost like nothing with a hint of her scent, making you moan weakly against her as her hips falter to slow down but refuse to let up from your mouth, insides pulsing against your tired tongue.

It’s a couple minutes until you gather your bearings and Dazai finally lifts her hips, breath hitching at the string of your saliva and her cum connecting your mouth to her pussy that breaks when she pulls away. It nearly gets her worked up enough for another round, but she presses the feeling down and moves to lay beside you, clinging to your side and burying her face into your neck. 

Chuuya pulls out of you shortly after, slipping the harness off her hips and begins to clean up. She disappears off into the bathroom momentarily and returns with a small rag to clean your face off first of Dazai’s cum and then between your legs. The mafioso pecks your lips gently in comparison to her rough treatment earlier and glances at Dazai, throwing the rag at her lazily without a care. “Clean yourself up, would you?”

“What?” Dazai whines out, “How come she gets the princess treatment and I’m treated like a peasant?”

“Because you are one, you’re lucky I haven’t kicked you out at this point,” Chuuya clicks her tongue and turns her attention back to you and scoops you up into her arms. “I’m starting a bath, I don’t give a damn if you join or not,” She says to Dazai over her shoulder, leaving the brunette to complain about the unfair treatment she’s getting as she stumbles up to follow after the both of you. 

With your arms looping around Chuuya’s neck lazily, a small smile curls in your lips, knowing that this wouldn’t be a one time thing.

[iovetecchou]

Saccharine ⧸ Dazai Osamu & Chuuya Nakahara‧₊˚

༞ Contains...! smut, implied fwb situation amongst the three of them, banter, competitive!chuuya, and competitive!dazai, kissing, teasing, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, aftercare

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 2,124 words.

kinktober masterlist!

“Ah, you lost again Chuuya!”

Dazai gleamed as the short-tempered man cursed under his breath. Murmuring something along the lines of “You fucking bastard”.

“Now, now. Boys, play nice!”

You shot Dazai a look as you replenished Chuuya’s newly emptied shot glass. Some of the liquor spilled on the temperamental man with your attention elsewhere.

“Oi, watch what you’re doin’ sweetheart.”

Your eyes darted down toward Chuuya’s hand, watching as the saccharine liquor dribbled down his fingers.

“Sorry Chuu, wasn’t paying attention! Here, lemme clean you up.”

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling his sticky digits to your lips. Dazai watched quizzically as your tongue darted out, lapping up the stretch of Chuuya’s lithe fingers.

“H-Hey! What do you think you’re doin’?!”

Chuuya silently thanked the alcohol for coloring his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. If it wasn’t for that, You and Dazai would know his face was truly growing hot because of your lewd display.

“Cleaning you up? I don’t mind. You have really pretty hands, Chuu!”

Your eyes were locked on his azure ones as you lapped up the last of the mess you made on his fingers.

“Oh no! Belladonna, I made a mess. Be a good girl and help me clean it up, yeah?”

You and Chuuya whirled around at the commotion. Dazai had ‘accidentally’ spilled the drink he was nursing all over his hand. The chestnut-eyed man pouted in faux distress, now holding his sticky digits out in front of you.

“You asshole! You did that on purpose!”

Chuuya barked out, glaring down his counterpart. You couldn’t help but chuckle at Dazai’s actions. He piqued your interest. You didn’t think twice before crawling closer to the devilish man.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind cleaning you up, too. Although you didn’t have to pull such a stunt if you wanted this. All you had to do was ask, darling.”

You quipped, offering Dazai a playful wink before your tongue slipped past your parted lips. Licking the sickeningly sweet liquor right off his elegant fingers.

Dazai smirked as he watched you lick him clean. You could hear Chuuya grumbling behind you about how much of an ‘asshole’ his counterpart was.

“You have pretty hands too, Dazai! Your fingers are so long.”

You noted, causing Dazai’s smirk to grow tenfold. He shot a sly gaze in Chuuya’s direction before he retorted,

“I’m glad you think so, belladonna! My fingers are way longer than Chuuya’s. I’m not surprised, though, considering his… small stature.”

Chuuya shot up from his spot, marching toward Dazai before letting him hear it.

“You got a lot of nerve, you know that? Just because your fingers are longer doesn’t mean they’re more skilled.”

His words caused Dazai to perk up. You could tell the lanky man sitting before you was up to no good now. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious to see how this would play out.

“Oh, why don’t we put that to the test? We have a perfect subject right here!”

Dazai wrapped his arm around your waist. Pulling you into his frame as he beamed brightly. Causing the copper-haired man to scrunch his brows in confusion.

“The fuck are you takin’ about, asshole. Stop screwin’ around.”

Dazai’s hand trailed further down your waist, soothing over your hip. Your mind felt fuzzy as he drew small circles into the side of your thigh.

“We’re going to see whose fingers are more skilled and the lovely Y/N is going to be our little helper, obviously! You gotta start paying attention, Chuuya.”

Chuuya stammered, watching as Dazai turned to face you. You allowed him to trail his fingers further down your thigh. His nondominant hand came up to caress the other side of your hip. Causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

“I think I like where this is going…”

You whispered. Your eyes finally met Chuuya’s as his counterpart flipped the hem of your skirt up, slipping his hands beneath the fabric. Dazai tugged your panties down your legs slowly, before tucking them in his back pocket for a later date.

“Well, Chuuya? You in or out?”

Dazai teased, not daring to take his gaze off you. Too focused on the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him.

“Yeah Chuu, in or out?”

Your voice was laced with honey, drawing him into you; without even trying. Chuuya tried to keep his eyes on yours, he really did. But when his azure gaze flickered down, getting a glimpse of your most intimate parts… he caved.

“Fuck it, I’m in.”

Dazai snickered as his hands now ghosted over your inner thighs. Spreading your legs further apart for better access.

“You’re too easy, Chuuya.”

Dazai teased, reveling in the way you gasped as his fingers ghosted over your clit. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, watching as Chuuya scooted closer toward you.

“Shut it, asshole. I don’t wanna hear your voice anymore. I’d much rather hear my sweetheart callin’ my name right now.”

You shuddered as Dazai began rubbing languid circles against your puffy bud. Chuuya wasted no time bringing his fingers up to your slit. One of his digits teased your entrance before he ultimately slipped inside you.

“What do you mean by, ‘My sweetheart’? I thought you knew by now that Y/N is mine!”

Dazai declared in a sing-song voice. Feeling his cock twitch from beneath his slacks as another whine rolled off your tongue.

“Now, now… no— ah, no f-fighting.”

You managed to say, nearly fumbling your words when Chuuya inserted another finger. Curling his adept digits deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot with ease.

“Fighting? Who’s fighting? I’m simply reminding Chuuya of his place here.”

Chuuya began thrusting his fingers faster inside you. Aiming to prove his point; that his fingers are more experienced than Dazai’s just to rub it in his face even more.

“You’re on thin ice, asshole. I told you before, be quiet!”

Dazai let out a drawn-out sigh as his fingers teased over your clit. Alternating between rubbing vigorously and leisurely. Leaving you feeling desperate for more.

“Dazai, don’t stop— please.”

You whined, bucking your hips up. Greedily begging for more.

“Tsk, how shameful my belladonna. Are you this needy for me already? But Chuuya hasn’t even made you cum yet.”

That was Chuuya’s last straw. With that, he shoved his counterpart away from you with his free hand. Never once ceasing in his movements inside you.

“You’re fucking done. Watch and learn from over there if you can’t understand how to keep that big mouth shut.”

Chuuya hissed, not sparing another moment on Dazai from that point on. Your breath hitched as Chuuya’s other hand came up to your pelvis. His thumb pressed firmly against your swollen bud, rubbing your clit just how you liked it.

That’s something you loved about Chuuya. When you asked for something, he gave it to you. Rarely teasing you the way his counterpart did nearly every time. They were like day and night, but something about that contrast was thrilling.

“Fuck— yes! Just like that Chuu, don’t stop!”

You braced yourself on your elbows from where you rested. Propping yourself up slightly to get a better view of Chuuya as he fingered your drooling pussy, with more intensity than before.

“Yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me as you cum all over my fingers.”

Before you could process, Chuuya added a third finger. Plunging fiercely inside you, matching the pace with his thumb that still toyed over your puffy clit.

All you could muster was a silent plea of Chuuya’s name as your orgasm crashed over you. You squirted all over his fingers as he worked you through your high.

“That’s it, sweetheart, so good for me.”

Chuuya whispered, absolutely mesmerized by your blissed-out face. He loved watching your eyes roll back when you came. And knowing he was the one provoking you to writhe in pleasure caused his cock to throb in his jeans.

Chuuya slowed down his pace after a few moments. Retracting his hands from your warm wet heat as you tried to catch your breath.

“Okay! My turn~”

“Dazai, wait— ah—!”

Before you could finish your thought, Dazai was shoving Chuuya aside just like the short-fused man had done to him earlier. Payback, he thought. Dazai wasted no time shoving two fingers into your messy hole. Pushing as deep as he could, delivering shallow thrusts from within your gummy walls.

His fingers scissored inside you, curling ever so slightly on the drag down. He was teasing your G-spot. But you weren’t surprised; teasing was Dazai’s specialty, after all.

“To m-much! Please, no t-teasing tonight. I’m too sensitive…”

You babbled, unable to control the way your hips bucked up each time Dazai’s nimble digits grazed over your sweet spot. Once more, his other hand was ghosting over your clit. His middle finger stroked your slit, only granting you the smallest bit of friction against your puffy bud.

“You heard her, stop teasing’ goddamnit!”

Chuuya grumbled from beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was trying his hardest to ignore his erection, which only ached more and more as you whined out in pleasure.

Dazai finally let his middle finger press down against your swollen nub. He rubbed your clit slowly as his fingers pulled out of you almost completely, before thrusting right back into you.

“Oh? I didn’t know you were barking out orders now, Chuuya. Your turn is over, so why don’t you just sit back and take notes.”

You could hardly mediate under these circumstances. Your mind was too far gone, fuzzy from all the pleasure both Chuuya and Dazai granted you tonight. Your end was nearing, and the chestnut-haired man was more than aware of that.

“Do you want to cum, my belladonna?”

He halted in his movements altogether. Dazai allowed you to catch your breath before you cried out,

“Y-Yes! Please, just make me cum!”

Your eyes were swirling with desire as they met his, and you didn’t fail to notice the smirk that etched its way into his features from your pathetic plea. He was enjoying this; and the tent in his pants wasn’t the only giveaway.

“Good girl~”

And with that, Dazai fucked his fingers back into you; relentlessly. Adding the perfect amount of pressure to your g-spot as his middle finger circled your clit fiercely.

“Hah— ‘m cumming—!”

Your whole body tensed as you clenched around Dazai’s fingers harshly. The coil within your tummy snapped, causing you to squirt all over Dazai’s palm. Not that he minded, though.

His bronze eyes raked over your body as you came for him. Dazai could hardly contain his grin as you cried out his name.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you make a mess all over me like this.”

Dazai cooed, slowing down his moments before stopping entirely. Letting his fingers slip out of your spent hole.

“That’s enough out of you! Make yourself useful and grab Y/N a towel and some water.”

Chuuya grumbled. He put all of his attention back on you after uttering those words. He could tell you were exhausted after everything. And Chuuya was sure all the alcohol you consumed earlier didn’t help with the drowsiness.

“Alright, alright. Sheesh, you know you’re really bossy for a short-stack.”

Before Chuuya could bark back, you brought your hand up to his face. Grasping his jaw between your thumb and forefinger before turning him to face you.

“Ignore him for now, Chuu. For my sake, yeah?”

You watched as Chuuya’s expression softened as he gazed into your eyes. You offered him a small smile before pulling him in for a lingering kiss.

The sweet embrace didn’t last too long though, because only a few minutes later, you heard Dazai call out;

“Aww, where’s my kiss, belladonna?! And after I took the liberty to grab you water and a nice clean towel!”

Dazai clutched his chest in feigned pain. He knelt down, handing you the bottle of water he fetched.

“That’s only because I told you to do that, asshole!”

Chuuya retorted, yanking the towel out of Dazai’s hands so he could tenderly clean you up. You couldn’t help but smile as the two men attended to you.

You leaned forward to place a chaste kiss atop Dazai’s lips. Pulling out a hum of approval from the cheeky man himself.

As you pulled away, your hands crept down to rest atop both Chuuya and Dazai’s thighs. You gave each of them a knowing look before whispering,

“I think it’s my turn to show you two how skilled my hands are. It’s only fair, right?”

[deonsx]

If They Take Aphrodisiacs

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor

Content: Nsfw, Smut

Dazai Osamu

The nights you spent with your boyfriend always made you very happy. Whether it was the way he always cherished you, the gentleness and the sensual feelings he gave you... the words that made you beg him all the time, you always loved these, but have you ever thought about the possibility of him begging? Wouldn't you like it if he begged you with a sexual hunger just like you? Since you started thinking about this, the direction of your desires changed and you decided to make plans

He is an intelligent man, it is only a matter of time before he realizes what he is drinking, but since he would not expect such boldness from you, everything became simpler. You gave him a heavy aphrodisiac syrup mixed with the drink you gave him that night, and he made a grimace when he first drank it. "It was sour than I thought, shouldn't it be spoiled?" You replied, taking a sip of your own drink. "I don't think so, it's Chuuya-san's choice." You cleared the doubt in his mind by saying so. "Ahhh Chuuya?? It's definitely poisonous then"

Dazai went to sleep half an hour later because he wanted to go to bed early tonight and you couldn't escape the idea of ​​wearing something nice. You went forward wearing sensual dresses. Dazai looked very calm, which made you suspicious... When you approached him, you saw that he was sweating slightly "My love..Are you okay, it looks like you have a fever" " you spoke, placing your hand on the brunette's forehead "Ahm..I don't know, I feel weird"

You grinned slightly "Is my boy really tired today" you played with his curls and placed kisses on his forehead which made him suddenly pull away from your arms and lay on top of you "I thought you were tired Osamu" He barely smiled "Hah...I-I feel warm" you gently cupped his cheek and kissed him. holding his arms, you changed your places and now you were on top, you sat on his tent and lightly rubbed him "uhhh..Love please..I need you"

"Really darling? Let me hear you beg for more" brown eyes looked at you sharply from under their long eyelashes and then their lips let out a deep breath "I need you..I want you my love..please don't turn me away" you slowly unzipped his pants and they were already sewn. You revealed his tent

"Now I see more clearly how much you need me, my love"

Chuuya Nakahara

It was an ordinary day at work. PM days had never been this tiring. You weren't sure if it was the duties or the new blonde girl that was tiring your mind. Are you jealous of your boyfriend from that girl? But she won't betray you, you trust her... But it seems like that girl is trying to use Chuuya's kindness. It's been 2 months since that girl came, but you were bored now, something was happening every day and she was visiting your boyfriend's office, files? enemies? information? boast? she was really trying to seduce him

Every time you tried to talk about this with your boyfriend, he denied it and said that the girl was just immature and was just trying to reinforce things with questions. No matter how angry you got, you couldn't do much. Instead of focusing on these, you thought of focusing on your relationship... something that would make him listen to you, something that would make everything sprout again. well..a few drops of aphrodisiac

You changed the same boring day at work completely. Chuuya wanted his usual morning coffee in his office, but he didn't know who made the coffee. When he entered his office with a coffee in his hand, his eyes narrowed with a warm smile. "My love..Did you make coffee for me?" you nodded slightly and placed the coffee in front of his desk "It was stupid to argue with you about that girl last night dear" chuuya bowed his head slightly and took a sip of his coffee "it's okay from now on I'll make sure he doesn't come into this room that often I promise"

While you were talking, chuuya started to sweat and his breaths became faster. "It was hot.." You blinked your eyes as if you didn't know. "oh? are you sure about that..that you weren't the one who was actually hot...?" his eyes quickly found you, "Did you give me an aphrodisiac, darling, I didn't think you would do this at work" you stood up and walked towards the chair your lover was sitting on and sat on his lap "my love, you were so busy with work these days, I wanted you to give your mind to me"

you covered him with your kisses you left bruises on his neck and gently unbuttoned his shirt "You are so naughty s/o..." you giggled and just rubbed on his lap which made him moan "nghh~ don't make fun of me dear" a knock on the door stopped you both but the voice was the person you wanted to hear "Chuuya-san Can I come in?" That high pitched and affectionate girl's voice, Chuuya couldn't even answer as he was out of breath, but the girl already wanted to enter so he opened the door quickly "Chuuya-...." When you turned your head back you saw the girl's disappointed expression

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone intern"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

Your boyfriend literally doesn't have time for you and this isn't just a 1-2 week thing, it's been 2 months, he can't take his mind off his plans to beat the detective agency and his mind games with Dazai, he doesn't even look at you. You even tried to tell him this "Fyodor... I know you're on the job but "I missed you." He frowned slightly and turned his head from the computer to you. "When the time comes, I will make you forgive me for this indifference." In the second attempt, you prepared a meal for him, but he did not leave his room. In the third attempt, you fought with him and unfortunately, you argued and you tripped without taking a step back. He didn't try to forgive

Finally, one day, an idea came to your mind, you knew he would get angry with you, but you still thought it would solve the problem between you, and now you were upset with him. Normally, you were always the one to hold people back, so this time, you were going to use it. You went home, Fyodor hadn't arrived yet, you prepared a meal and put a lot of your syrup into it. , time has passed. Finally, your lover came home, his eyes looked at the already prepared dinner table, then he looked at you. "Dinner?" He knew you were upset with him, normally he wouldn't eat dinner, but this time he sat at the table for you both.

It was a quiet dinner, as you'd expect, and no sound was heard leaving him. After the meal, the usual work change went on, nothing happened yet, you didn't see any reaction, did it go wrong? Didn't it show aphrodisiac performance? Was the amount not enough? Everything was empty, you took steps towards your room and you were passing by your boyfriend's study, you stood as still as possible until the rapid breathing became louder, very light moaning sounds, it was easy to hear his sounds in the quiet house.

It was fun to listen to your voices. Only the lights were illuminating the dark room. You slowly opened the door, but I guess Fyodor didn't hear it. The voices continued in the same tone. You looked into the room with your eyes and saw your boyfriend, who had thrown his head back and grasped his dick with his hands.. He was trying to help himself.. How sad..." Does someone need my help?" purple eyes opened like they were shining in the dark and they turned directly to you "What did you put in that food...haah.." as the light moans continued he removed his hands from his cock and tried to cover himself, you directed your steps towards him "What does it matter...I just wanted you to understand your mistake dear." fyodor's eyes narrowed in disdain "I don't need any help-" you slowly sat down on your boyfriend's lap, who was sitting on the chair, and felt his cock start to get wet under his pants. "nnnghh stop it...don't make fun of me"

“If you tell me your wishes, I will not hesitate to give them all to you, my love”

Enjoy!

We are 800 people, thank you everyone for supporting what I wrote^^

[pastel-paramour]

I have to get this off my chest because the requisite number of SKK posts have crossed my dashboard and I can’t hold it anymore.

SO everyone is familiar with the HC that Chuuya basically admitted to drinking about Dazai leaving the Port Mafia, but allow me to provide more context.

We know that Chuuya states he opened an ‘89 bottle of Pétrus wine the night Dazai left. And Dazai wasn’t kidding when he says Pétrus is exorbitantly expensive. It is a collector’s item. So even a polite 750ml bottle costs something to the tune of five or six thousand dollars or more.

Not only that, but it has an alcohol content of 13.5%, as far as all wine goes it’s a bit higher (average being 12%) with most supermarket wines hovering around 6-8% for scale.

That said, we know two things about Chuuya; 1) the poor lad can’t hold his liquor for shit, and 2) he would not open this bottle like this unless he planned on finishing it.

We also know that Dazai confessed to planting a bomb under his car the night he left.

So allow me to set the scene: Dazai had defected from the Port Mafia, without telling his partner of 3 years. Distraught, Chuuya pops his most expensive bottle because what’s the fucking point, and absolutely trounces it. Finishing the bottle, he stumbles out of the building, beeps his car and it explodes, knocking him on his ass.

And from the ground, in the light of his flaming car he mutters “a’right, a’right… I won’t drink’n’drive…” before passing out in the street.

Prosecution rests.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WICKED LOVE WILL LEAVE ME BLIND

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dangerous games are played between you and dazai during one of the most important events of the year for the japanese underworld. you're never this risky, not when your reputation is on the line, but fuck being near him just seems draw out all of the worst in you.

(wordcount: 4.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia member!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, public sex, spitting, unprotected sex, gagging dazai w/your panties, switch!dazai, switch!reader. lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: WOOWWWWWWW u all can thank tumblr user mioblobby for this one, she sent in an ask 3 days ago and this consumed me so badly that i dropped all of my wips to write this. anyway, enjoy dazai & pmreader being absolute FREAKS in public

His gaze hasn’t left you once all night. You can feel it dark and heavy from where he’s leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room, black coat hanging around his shoulders and a cold, unapproachable expression on his face, looking every bit the wraith people claim him to be. 

Chuuya is off somewhere to your side, smooth talking two of Mishima’s daughters, surely planning to end the night in one of their beds to get those loose lips moving about the meeting that their father had with Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber two weeks ago, something he’s been unnervingly tight lipped about when Mori pried. 

You’re entertaining two of the younger members of Mishima’s upper echelon, Abe Kimifusa and Ibuse Masuji—they can’t be much older than you, early twenties max, and they’re delighted by the attention you’re giving them. Ibuse is half hanging off your shoulders, arm wrapped around you, too many drinks in as he leans in close and laughs at some comment Abe makes about one of their fellow executives. You smile idly as you listen, resting against him as you take in their words, trying to pretend to be engaged with the conversation to not give away how you’re hyper-focused on a certain black-haired executive in the distance. 

Usually, he would join you and Chuuya in your attempts to gather some easy intel on the Sun and Steel—that’s what he’s done the past year and a half, at least, targeting some of the older members of Mishima’s upper echelon who would sell half of their organs and their soul for a night with the untouchable Demon Prodigy. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now, knowing what he told you, but you still can’t help but be a little surprised that he’s not even trying to put up a facade of charm and wit, rather spending his time skulking in the shadows watching you, especially when his usual targets are so blatantly staring at him, waiting for him to make a move.

You think it’s hypocritical the way you’re so pleased over the fact that he’s not entertaining anyone tonight, because the thought of him letting any of those men drape themselves all over him like Ibuse currently is with you leaves a very sour taste in your mouth.

You also think that’s why you’re letting Ibuse take it as far as he has—to see Dazai get wound up about it. You don’t typically let people get touchy with you unless you plan on taking them to bed, and you have absolutely no intention of fucking Ibuse Masuji. He’s pretty enough with dark hair and a nice smile, but too stupid for your taste—maybe that’s a good thing though, if he’s already so loose-lipped now with only a few drinks in him, you can’t imagine how much he’d let slip in a post-orgasm induced haze.

You start to reconsider your decision on Ibuse, looking up at him contemplatively as he makes a snide comment about Kamatsu Sakyo—an older executive of the Sun and Steel, one of the ones you know have spent a night, or more, with Dazai, so your smile is a bit more genuine when you hear the way Ibuse drags him for being incompetent and useless.

“The older generation has to go,” Ibuse hisses, shaking his head as his arm tightens around you, leaning back against the wall. “They’re running us into the fucking ground. That fucker Kamatsu wants us to take that deal from the Red Chamber-”

“Masuji,” Abe warns, giving you a careful look, not as drunk as his companion. You raise your eyebrows at the comment from Ibuse, looking at him questioningly.

Ibuse waves off Abe haphazardly. “The Port Mafia did it right,” he says bluntly, taking another sip of his drink. “Wiped out the whole old regime after the previous boss died. That’s what the Boss should’ve done when he took over from his father. All of these old fucks need to drop dead.”

“The meeting with Xueqin went that poorly?” you ask casually, sure to keep the interest out of your tone as you look up at Ibuse.

“Don’t even get me started,” Ibuse scoffs. “That fucker wants-”

You’re careful to keep the irritation off your face when you hear the telltale sound of Mishima preparing to give his annual ‘thank you, fruitful alliances ahead!’ speech that always bores you to tears. Next to you, Ibuse sighs and pulls his arm off of you, pushing off the wall.

“We’ve gotta go up there with him. I’ll find you later?” he asks you, eyes a bit too hopeful, voice eager as he waits for your response.

“Definitely,” you say—the things you do for information.

With most of the attendees of the ball distracted by Mishima’s speech, you slip away to make your way over to the far corner where Dazai is waiting. Still, he tracks you—from the moment you make your subtle escape from the crowd until you’re standing right in front of him in the shadows where he’s lingering, his gaze remains trained on you, intense in a way that lets you know that he’s unhappy, if the way his jaw is tight didn’t.

“You’ve been having fun tonight,” he drawls, voice low as he looks down at you, arms folded across his chest.

“Is that what it seemed like?” you say lightly, taking a step closer, casting one last glance behind you to ensure that all eyes are pinned on Mishima before hooking your fingers into his belt loops to tug him closer to you. “At least I’m doing my job properly then.”

“It’s your job to let Mishima’s whore of an executive drape himself all over you?” Dazai tilts his head to the side, one hand sliding behind you to close the small distance between the two of you, leaving your chest pressed to his.

No, you let that drag on just because you could tell how irate Dazai was becoming over it, but Dazai doesn’t have to know that. So instead, you play coy.

“I have appearances to keep up,” you say, tilting your head up with a simpering smile, enjoying the way his gaze immediately darts down to your lips, lingering there before he has to forcibly drag it back up to your eyes. “You know that.”

“Yeah?” Dazai hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze drifts above you. “Maybe I should be making more of an effort with appearances then, Kamatsu has had his eye on me all night.”

Your eye doesn’t twitch at his words, but your grip on his belt loops tightens. “You don’t want to play that game with me, Dazai,” you warn, keeping your voice deceptively mild.

“And why is that?” Dazai drawls, looking too smug for your liking as he looks down at you as if realizing how much his threat bothered you.

“Because I’ll win,” you say easily, fingers slipping from his belt loops to slide your hands up and down his sides before settling them on his slim hips, relishing in the way his lashes flutter at your touch. “You know that. It’s unlike you to pick losing battles.”

“I won’t lose,” Dazai says with a scoff, and you walk him backward until the back of his knees hit a chair, guiding him back to sit down in it as Mishima finally starts a long-winded speech that’s going to last at least twenty or thirty minutes.

You give Dazai another teasing smile as you stand in front of where he’s sitting, lifting your hand to his chin, tilting his face up toward you. You lean down, lips brushing his as you murmur, “You already have.”

“Have I?” Dazai asks, amused. He unconsciously leans forward to capture his lips with yours but you shift just out of reach before he can, raising your eyebrows pointedly at the annoyed look he gives you.

You make quick work of undoing his tie, slipping it from his neck before wrapping it loosely around your wrist, hyper aware of the way his gaze is trained sharply on your face, studying your every move. You bring your other hand back up to his face, cupping his cheek gently, and your breath catches as he leans into your touch, eye lidded as he looks up atwith you. He tilts his head to the side to press his lips against your palm, keeping eye contact as he lifts his hand to cover yours, shifting it so he can graze his lips against the pulse point on your wrist.

“You have,” you agree, grateful that your voice isn’t as breathless as you feel from the combined intensity of his gaze and his lips on your skin.

“How so?” Dazai looks entirely too smug, probably can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, and you itch to wipe the smugness right off of his face.

“I’m meeting Ibuse after this speech,” you tell him, now entirely too smug yourself as Dazai expression drops and goes icy, fingers stiffening from where his hand is still pressed over yours. “Need to get him to spill about the meeting with the Red Chamber, he already started getting into it before. If I get him alone, we’ll know everything we need.”

“Go ahead,” Dazai sounds deceptively calm, you’d almost believe he didn’t care if the look in his eye didn’t betray him, cold and promising bloodshed. “I’ll kill him.”

“You’ll start a war,” you say absently, the tips of your fingers brushing through his dark hair.

“I don’t care,” Dazai replies, and you know that he’s serious—it should worry you, he could throw all of your work with the Sun and Steel out the window in a split second, but instead you only find yourself giddy, tongue pressing behind your teeth and a smile curving at your lips as you look down at him.

“Careful, Dazai,” you breathe out, “almost sounds like you care.”

He does care, you know that and he knows that, but he refuses to admit it out loud. Refuses to put a label on anything between the two of you. You think it’s his way of maintaining some semblance of control over things; he thinks that if he actually admits what’s going on between the two of you, it’ll be a loss of control over himself that he can’t afford. 

As if threatening to start a gang war with the Mafia’s most important ally because you’re planning to sleep with someone for vital information isn’t a loss of control in itself. 

You also think it might have to do with the broken gasps he’d let out over the phone during the assassination plot on you a few weeks ago, when he thought that he’d miscalculated and they called his bluff, that they were going to get to you and no one was going to be able to get there in time to protect you. 

“Everything I never want to lose is always lost the moment I obtain it.”

You wonder, maybe, if he thinks that not making things official with you is his way of protecting both you and himself. 

But it’s fucking frustrating. It’s frustrating dealing with his hot and cold—days where he’s so clearly enamored with you, spending hours laid up with you admiring you while you do work, looking at you with eyes that should only be reserved for long time lovers, and then there are days where he can hardly bring himself to look at you, avoiding you at every given chance, cold and aloof. It’s frustrating, and it’s exhausting, you just want to be with him.

His eye darkens, jaw clicking at your words, but he doesn’t respond other than that.

You’re not sure what exactly compels you to take another step forward, you watch as his gaze tracks down to the low cut of your dress, as he shifts in his seat, legs spread, clearly withholding the urge to adjust himself in his pants. A dangerous thought crosses your mind, one that you know you should toss away because of where you are, how many people are just on the other side of the room, but you find your body moving before you can stop yourself.

You watch him inhale, gaze tracking down to where your hand has slipped into the high slit of your dress, casting one last look over your shoulder to make sure the two of you are at an angle that no one would be able to easily see you before pulling down your thin black panties—the ones you know he loves and wore just to see the way the pupil of his visible eye becomes blown wide at the sight of them, breath hitching.

You shift closer to him, balling them into your fist, one hand sliding behind the back of his head, fingers entwined with his dark hair as you tilt his head back, eyes tracing the exhilaration on his face as he looks up at you, realizing what you’re going to do, where you’re going to do it.

“You’re crazy,” he breathes out. The words are reverent, he speaks them in the same way you imagine he would tell you he loves you, it makes your breath catch. “Here? What're you gonna do if one of them looks over and sees you stuffed with my cock, hm? How're you gonna explain why you're full of cum when you go meet that clown?”

“You talk too much,” you note, stepping forward. “Open up.”

Dazai’s lips part instinctively, but before you stuff his mouth with your panties, you lean over him, fingers hooking around his bottom lip as you force his mouth a little wider, watching as his breath hitches and his lashes flutter when you spit right into his open mouth, swallowing it immediately. 

Your lips curl up as you lift the hand holding your panties, taking in an unsteady breath as he lets you push your panties between his lips; he lets out a muffled groan around them, eyes sliding shut as if savoring the taste of them. You shift your dress around slightly so you can comfortably straddle his thighs. His hands immediately fly to your waist, but you click your tongue lightly, pushing them off and sliding his tie around his wrists once you’ve got them behind his back.

He tilts his head to the side, giving you a heavy, judgmental look. He doesn’t even have to speak to know what he’s thinking: “You really think this is going to stop me?”

You give him a sweet smile, leaning in to graze your lips against his jaw, feeling the shaky breath he lets out around your panties. “If you free yourself from them,” you murmur, lips brushing his ear as you speak, “I’ll stop.”

You don’t wait for his reaction, directing your attention down toward his slacks, loosening his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You ease his cock out of his briefs, weight heavy in your hand, tip flushed pink and leaky. You give it an experimental pump, using his own precum as lube, and watch as he tilts his head back, giving a full body shudder.

“You’re so easy to rile up,” you sigh softly, shifting forward so that his cock slides between your slick folds, you press your lips to the underside of his jaw to smother the moan you almost let out when his tip catches on your clit. “I love it.”

You know he’s trying to shoot you a withering look, but the effects of it are severely diminished with how his face is flushed pink and his eyes are unfocused. You give him another saccharine smile, and that’s the only warning he gets before you’re sinking down on his cock. 

You can feel every inch of him stretching you open, filling you up until the tip of his cock is nudging right up against your cervix. It takes all of your self control to bite back the loud gasp that nearly rips from your lips, not wanting to have to bury your face in the crook of his neck just yet, watching as he lets out a choked noise that’s loud even with your panties stuffed in his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Careful,” you warn, leaning in to drag your lips up his neck to the corner of his lips. You lift one of your hands to hold the back of his head again, gripping his hair as you force him to look at you again, fingers tugging hard at his hair. His gaze is unfocused, lips parting as he heaves around your panties, throat spasming—he looks fucking divine, and for a moment, you regret doing this here because you might have to kill someone if they see him when he’s looking like this. “You don’t want them to see you like this, yeah?”

You can hear the whine that builds in the back of his throat, trying to rock his hips up into yours. The sloppy sound of his cock driving into your cunt is too loud—Mishima is still speaking loudly, drowning out any noise that could possibly be coming from your secluded corner, but it’s so risky, you almost don’t know what’s gotten into you. If anyone happens to wander over this way…

“God, what do you do to me?” you gasp, leaning in so you can graze your teeth against his neck, threatening to bite down. 

You’re never this reckless—not when it’s your reputation on the line, you’ve spent years honing it into the weapon it’s become, and here you are risking it all just because Dazai Osamu decided to give you bedroom eyes during one of the most important events the Port Mafia attends. Fuck, he drives you insane.

His head lolls forward, forehead resting against the side of yours, lips brushing your ear. You can feel his heavy pants, each one catching over a moan muffled by your panties. You rock your hips back and forth quickly, each drag of his cock against your walls making you hot and lightheaded. Whether it’s just from the sheer pleasure of it all—the way the tip of his cock pressees right into that sensitive spot deep inside of you, the way he’s so quickly coming undone beneath you, body trembling and drool pooling at the corner of his lips around your panties—or if it’s because of the way anyone could wander over in this direction, catch you fucking Dazai so brazenly when there’s a crowd of one hundred and fifty, two hundred of the most important people in the Japanese underworld just on the far side of the room, you don’t know, but heat pools in your abdomen so quickly that it’s almost impossible to control. 

You can feel his breath ragged, his body tense, each roll of your hips against his has Dazai falling apart, and you can feel the telltale sign of his cock twitching inside of you, signaling that he’s about to finish. You tug his hair, pulling his head back from where it's fallen against you, and you lift your other hand quickly up to his lips, pushing them inside of his mouth to hook your fingers around your panties, pulling them out of his mouth.

Instantly, Dazai is pushing himself forward to press his lips against yours, freeing himself of his own tie so his hands can fly to your waist. You let out a low moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue into yours, one hand sliding from your waist to your back, keeping your body flush to his as he grinds you down on his cock hard.

“Fuck,” Dazai groans into your mouth, voice choked. You can see the way he can hardly keep his gaze steady, the way he’s gripping your dress to try to keep himself grounded. “I-ah, shit-I’m close. I’m-”

You lean in to swallow his moan, kissing him hard as his eyes roll to the back of his head, hips stuttering as he spills his cum deep inside of you. Your breath catches at the feeling of his cum filling you up, warm, heavy, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling out from where his cock is still stuffed deep inside of you; it’s the last thing you need to push you over the edge, mind blank and jaw falling slack as your body shudders in his arms.

Black dots spot your vision, your nails dragging down his black coat, your whole body consumed with pleasure—it hits you so hard that you think maybe you might’ve passed out for a split second. The feeling of your release sends a shockwave through Dazai, you can feel the way his body spasms and jerks when your walls suddenly tighten around his sensitive cock.

“God,” Dazai breathes out against your lips, eyes glazed over as the two of you come down from your high, an expression so adoring on his face that you think for a moment, you might be imagining it. “You’re so…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, leaves it to your imagination, and you want to press, but you don’t have the chance because you’re slapped hard with reality when you hear Mishima’s speech coming to an end, eyes widening. Your legs are shaky as you push off of him, hissing at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your cunt—you almost snort when you see how Dazai twitches and winces at the sudden movement, still sensitive.

“Clean yourself up,” you tell him sharply, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, trying to catch sight of yourself in the reflection of a nearby glass, watching from the corner of your eye as Dazai stuffs himself back in his pants, wiping your cum off of his expensive black slacks before sucking it right off of his fingers. He grabs his tie from where he’d let it fall to the ground, and then your panties, winking at you before he stuffs them in the pocket of his jacket. 

His gaze lifts to you as he rises to his feet, drifting lazily over your form, lingering on the way your skin glows with a soft sheen of sweat, the loose strands of hair that cling to your forehead—something you hope you can play off considering the air condition in the ballroom isn’t on. Then his gaze settles down on the lower half of your body, lips curling up into a slow smirk.

He takes a few steps closer to you, holding his tie out to you. “Re-tie it?” he hums, and you roll your eyes because you know he can do it himself and you know he has some sort of ulterior motive right now, but you take it from him regardless.

You quickly slide the tie around his neck, trying to tie it quickly before anyone catches sight of the two of you, but with you so focused on getting this done, you miss the way his hand sneaks forward until you feel it slip into the slit of your dress. 

“Dazai,” you warn, keeping your voice low, but your breath catches when you feel him gather up all of the cum that had dribbled out of your cunt, head falling against his shoulder as you try to force yourself not to react when he uses two fingers to stuff it right back inside of you.

You can feel the wicked grin against your ear as he leans down to tug your earlobe gently. “Good luck explaining this to Ibuse.”

Then he steps away, dark eye glittering dangerously as he looks down at you.

“I’ll find you later,” he says before turning to walk away.

You’re not sure if it’s a threat or a promise and you don’t have time to make a snide comment asking, because you hear Ibuse approaching you from behind, giddy and excited until he catches sight of Dazai’s infamous black coat retreating, swallowing thickly and eyes flickering nervously between the two of you—a common reaction to the executive’s presence, knowing how dangerous and unpredictable he can be.

You wonder if Dazai would make Ibuse half as nervous and uncomfortable if he’d known he just spent the last fifteen minutes with your panties stuffed in his mouth and his hands tied behind his back, whining and whimpering, muffling all of his sounds so people didn’t overhear the two of you. But you dismiss that thought—that’s knowledge for you to keep to yourself, you don’t like sharing.

“Let’s get out of here?” you hum, drawing him out of his thoughts before he can spiral.

He lights back up again, but you can tell he’s still nervous from Dazai’s brief appearance. “Yeah, c’mon.”

Two hours later, you wander out of one of the back rooms in Mishima’s mansion, intent on getting back to headquarters. You don’t get more than two feet before you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, tugging you backward hard until your back meets a familiar chest.

Your heartbeat stills from the brief bout of erraticness when you felt someone grab you, relaxing back into Dazai, tilting your head back and to the side to look up at him as he holds your hips, keeping you flush to him.

“Did you fuck him?” Dazai asks, voice low and expression unreadable.

You have half a mind to say yes, just to see what Dazai plans to do if you did. He can’t kill Ibuse, not even he is reckless enough to start a war with the Sun and Steel right now, but you don’t think you want to risk it.

“Didn’t have to,” you say honestly. “He was babbling out everything I wanted to know before the doors even closed.”

Dazai searches your face for a moment as if trying to decide if you’re being truthful, when he does, one of his hands slips off your waist into his coat, and you hear the familiar sound of Dazai flipping the safety of his gun back on.

“Dazai,” you snap. “You can’t just-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Dazai interrupts you with the type of confidence that lets you know he had every intention of putting a bullet through Ibuse’s head if you fucked him, regardless of the consequences. The thought of that alone makes your blood run hot, pupils dilating as you look up at him; Dazai’s lips curve up slowly as if he knows just what’s going on in your head. He looks behind you curiously before focusing back down on you asking: “Is he passed out in there?”

“Mhm,” you agree, watching him curiously as you try to figure out what he might be thinking. “Drank too much.”

“Good,” Dazai murmurs, walking you right back into the room you’d come out of, a sharp smile on his face. He closes the door behind the two of you, gaze flickering over to where Ibuse is unconscious on the couch before he backs you up until your knees hit the corner of the bed, pushing you back onto it. “Let’s see if we can wake him up then.”

[oikasugayama]

HOW HE F--KS YOU pt. 3

pt. 1 Dazai, Ranpo, Ango | pt. 2 Chuuya, Kunikida, Tachihara | pt. 3 Poe, Atsushi, Fukuzawa

SMUT AGAIN, gn!reader but multiple anatomies mentioned, MDNI

Poe

He fucks you submissively.

He whimpers. He whines. He cries. It just feels so good, he can't help it. He loves when you press him down into the mattress and fuck him. The weight of you on his hips holding him down while your cock/strap buries in his ass makes his whole body burn and tingle. When you lay on him and buck your hips repetitively, even if only shallowly, it makes him mewl and whine oh so prettily. He cums all over himself and the bed and makes such a mess and you tsk and tell him he has to clean it up before he's allowed to make you cum.

He was incredibly nervous the first time you started to get intimate. He almost backed out with tears in his eyes, saying he was just too nervous and he wasn't sure if he could please you, but you reeled him back into your arms and reassured him that you would help him figure things out. "I'll take good care of you, precious boy," you whispered, sending a shiver down his spine. You felt his erection against your leg and knew he liked you taking the lead, so you sank to your knees and once he gave you the green light you sweet talked him between sucking him dry.

He's only comfortable having sex at home, either yours or his. He's a creature of habit and of safe spaces, so he has to be somewhere he's very comfortable to start taking his clothes off and getting down. He gets more confident as time goes on and as he gets more practice, but he's still quite the sub for you.

He's calling you mommy if you identify as female. you can tell him to knock it off if you want.

When he takes the lead, he's very vanilla. He wants to eat you out and/or suck you dry, he wants to finger you and watch you squirm, he wants to fuck you and cum inside and tell you he'll make a pretty baby with you, though he always reassures you afterwards that he can pay for whatever necessary aftercare you need to avoid pregnancy, if that's what you require.

Atsushi

He fucks you obsessively.

If he could drown in your pussy/ass he would. He's diving in there headfirst every chance he gets. He loves when you wear dresses and skirts because he has easier access to your cunt. He'll dive under your skirt, tongue already out, lapping at your pussy like a dog drinking water. He gets so over excited that his hips are bucking even without anything for him to rut against.

When he fucks you doggy style, he fucks you doggy style. His arms are locked around your waist TIGHTLY, his back arched, he's panting and he's humping you as fast as he can, filling the air with obscene slapping sounds, moans, huffs, and whines. He thanks you for the use of your cunt/ass, telling you over and over "it's so good, thank you thank you, fuck, you're so good, baby please, I wanna cum, please can I cum?"

he! needs! praise! he needs you to tell him he's good, that he's making you feel good, that you're gonna cum because of him. He needs pets and kisses and your hands running through his hair. when he's feeling down and asks you for sex, you know the best position is lying on your sides facing each other, arms around each other, you kissing him and playing with his hair while he thrusts slowly, occasionally switching his cock for his hand to pleasure you then going back to his dick when his orgasm isn't so pent up. He likes to make these sweet sessions long because they're his favorite.

he likes sucking on your tits. even if you dont have any, he likes playing with your nipples. if your boobs are big and/or squishy, he's pawing at them every chance he gets, and he wants them in his mouth bad.

Fukuzawa

He fucks you expertly.

He's a good bit older than you, so he has more experience. After all, he's a lover not a fighter ;)

He makes everything feel special and sensual. He's the type to set up candles and gentle music and give you a full body massage before the first time you have sex. His hands gliding across your body, sneaking closer and closer to your crotch until finally his fingers are slipping inside/wrapping around you, making you moan his name out softly. he'll suck on your breasts, eat you out for a few minutes, and then fuck you (very responsibly with a condom) with confident, measured thrusts. he knoooows what he's doing ;)

He may occasionally joke that he's an old man, but he's still very fit and spry. No weak knees here, he's climbing on top of you or holding you up while having sex just like a "younger" guy would do.

He's theoretically against having sex anywhere that isn't home because it's very disrespectful, but sometimes his urges overtake his rational mind and he may ask you to come to the office in the middle of the day and it may or may not end up with you riding him in his office while the ADA employees are none the wiser on the other side of the door.

If you ever ask him to call you names or degrade you, he'll sternly tell you no, he doesn't like calling you names or being mean to you. But if you call him daddy... especially if he's already inside of you... he's getting a rush of arousal so strong it makes him cum instantly. he'll tell you not to do it again while blushing and secretly hoping that you will, so you hold onto it like a secret weapon. when you want him but he's busy, all you have to do is send him a tit pic and say "waiting for you, daddy <3" and he'll be home ASAP and bricked

[coolyiooo]

BSD Men - When Their Rival Flirts With You

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, and Chuuya

❗WARNINGS❗: smut, MDNI, biting, hickeys, public, recording, praise, breeding kink, scratching, etc

🖤DAZAI🖤

Dazai has enemies here and there, but the one he hates the most is Chuuya.You and Dazai were at a clothing store, but Dazai said he'd be right back to get some drinks from a food stand.

You were looking around the store and found a hat aisle. You put on a black hat and checked yourself out in a mirror, when suddenly you heard a faint voice, you almost didn't hear it, coming next to you.

"Wow.."

You looked next to you and saw a stranger look at you. He had red hair and blue eyes, making him attractive to the eye, but he was staring at you a little too much.

"...can I help you?" You asked

He stammers and begins to blush a tad "N-no! sorry, you just ah- it looks good on you. Your just ...yea"

You both stared at each other, until Chuuya looks away from you flustered, pretending to look at the other hats. He didn't mean to say something out loud, even if it was a whisper, but he has just never seen someone so beautiful.

When you were wearing the hat it looked like you were wearing his hat, which only made him feel some type of way.Something about him seemed familiar.

You kept staring at him and he noticed, with curiosity, he looks back at you. You both look at each other, his cheeks have a pink color pigment to them.

"Do I...know you from somewhere-?" You asked when suddenly two large drinks of soda fell on Chuuya, leaving you and him in shock.

"Oh no! What a klutz I am! Belladonna, are you alright?" Dazai asked with consideration

"D-Dazai!" You yelled in shock from the mess he made on the stranger

You turned to Chuuya and placed a hand on his shoulder "Are you ok?" That was when Chuuya finally made eye contact with Dazai

"AHHH!! A WET DOG, OH! it's just Chuuya.."

Your eyes looked at Dazai. It seems he knows who this man is.

"Dazai..." Chuuya grumbled "What the hell are you doing here?!" Chuuya yelled, finishing his sentence

"Oh! I'm just shopping with my, Belladonna. My girlfriend!"

"Your.. what?" Chuuya asked in disbelief

Dazai shakes his head up and down with a huge smile. He then turns to look at you. You looked back at him with a dazed look, how did these two know eachother? Too many things were happening at once

Dazai then gives you a big, fat kiss on your lips, making a loud kissing noise. He then starts to attack your face with kisses, which only drew a lot of attention to the three of you.Chuuya looked at you two with wide eyes as you pushed Dazai away from you, by placing two hands on his chest.

"Dazai! Your making a scene!" You yelled in a whisper, like a mom telling their kid to stop embarrassing them in a store.

Dazai pouted "but, bella-"

"Hey, excuse me. You three need to leave the store. Your being a disturbance to our costumers" an employee interrupted

"Oh, ma'am! It's all this one's fault" Dazai said, pointing at Chuuya

Chuuya's face turned red from anger. He looked like he was about to attack Dazai "what the hell are you saying you bastard?!"

Before the situation can become more of a mess, you stepped in and bowed continuously to the employee

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. We'll leave immediately"

You grabbed Chuuya and took him out of the store. You just wanted to help him get paper towels or something. You didn't even pay attention to Dazai because you were a bit frustrated with him. You practically left Dazai behind, but he followed the both of you until you yelled at him to get some napkins.

You grabbed a couple of napkins from your bag and tried to wipe away some of the soda on his clothes while apologizing. Chuuya's anger vanished into thin air ever since you started to basically put your hands all over his body.

"T-this has nothing to do with you, you have nothing to apologize for." He said with blush on his cheeks "It's all that bastards fault" He finished with an annoyed tone

"Do you two know eachother?" You asked

"Unfortunately" Chuuya responded

He saw Dazai coming back with a paper towel roll and he noticed your hands all over Chuuya. They both just gave each other a death glare

Dazai took your hands off of Chuuya "Bella, you shouldn't touch trash"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Chuuya yelled, standing up. People's attention was going towards you three again

"Not before I do! I saw how you were looking at her. Don't get any funny ideas!"

You pinched Dazai's cheek harshly, making him yelp in pain, Stopping the fight once again "your acting like a child!"

You then helped Chuuya clean his clothes and learned more about the two, like when they met. Before you left, you forced Dazai to apologize to him.

"now if you excuse me. I have to put someone down" you said

Dazai and Chuuya both had shocked faces, but Chuuya's face turned into a smirk " I think your my new favorite person.. y/n was it?"

You nodded with a smile "see you later, Chuuya" you waved bye.

When you got home, you were just about to yell at Dazai for being an idiot, but he immediately slammed your back against the wall and dove into the crook of your neck, sucking and kissing on it. You were about to yell at him, but his knee started to rub in between your legs, making you aroused.

After creating a couple of hickeys, he pulled away "why was all your attention on him instead of me?" He asked in a breathy, deep voice.

Realization hit you "is that what this was all about? You were just jealous?"

He crossed his arms and looked away from you, closing his eyes.

You scoffed slightly " 'Samu you know I only have eyes for you"

"Then prove it to me, because it didn't look like it back there" he pouted

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the collar of his shirt, forcefully bringing him to the bedroom. You threw him on the bed and got on top of him

" it's disappointing how I have to remind you how much you mean to me, love" You started to take off your shirt "so I'll make sure you'll never doubt me again"

Few minutes have passed and here you are, riding him at a rough pace. His moaning is loud, but so are yours. His head looks down to where your both connected

"You see how good mmn~! I take you?" You asked

He whimpers "yeah~ ah~ so tight and wet mmn~ just for me" His hands grip onto your hips.

He then starts to remember about what happened earlier, how Chuuya looked at you and how you touched him. He wanted to punish you just a bit.He suddenly pushes you and gets on top of you. you were about to say something, but he starts to pound into you, making you stutter a moan

Dazai all of a sudden starts to bite you over and over again, all over your neck. His bites only made your walls clench around him more.

"Your mine, bella~! Ah~! I want everyone else- mmn~ to know your mine ngh! And I'm yours" he pounds deeper into you as you dig your nails into his back.

He smirks, knowing that you'll be leaving a mark on him too

"i- I'm going to mmn! Cum!" You moaned

It didn't take him long before he pushed himself as deep as he can and came inside you, moaning your name while hugging you tightly. You came with him when you felt the warmth, moaning with him.You both were out of breath, still holding onto each other.

He kisses your bite marks and looks deeply into your eyes, a tired smile on his lips

"you know, I wouldn't mind if you left some hickeys and bite marks on me too"

💚RANPO💚

Ranpo's main rival would probably be Poe, so this is how you first met the guy. You were waiting for Ranpo in front of a building, something for an investigation. He told you he was going to invite someone else, but he never told you who or what they look like.

You were simply standing outside waiting for you boyfriend. Off in the distance, Poe saw your figure and immediately thought you were mesmerizing. Poe kind of just stood still while looking at you, the whole world stopped for a second.

While he was admiring your beauty, Karl (his raccoon) got off his shoulders and ran up to you, startling him and making him run after his raccoon.

You were about to call Ranpo, since he was taking a long time. Suddenly, you see a raccoon running towards you.

Everything was moving too fast for you to react. You stood there as you watched this raccoon leap towards you. Your eyes widen a bit, until a hand abruptly grabs the raccoon by the back of it's neck, scruffing it like a puppy.

You were dazed, did this random stranger really grab a raccoon by the neck? You just stood there and looked at this man, who's hair was covering his eyes, until he spoke

"I-im so sorry! He usually never acts like this!" The man apologized

He put the raccoon around his shoulders like a parrot or something. "W-wait that's your...pet?" You asked

"Uh- y-yes"

You were shocked, but immediately became in awe.

You walked closer to the man to take a better look at his raccoon " he is so cute! Can I pet him?"

Poe started to blush, since you were too close to him. "Ah- y-yes! w-well, you can hold him if you want"

Before Poe could grab Karl, Karl jumped on to your shoulders. You jumped from surprise for a second, before you became enamoured by a cute animal on your shoulders. You kept calling Karl cute and how cool Poe was for having such an exotic pet, making him blush. Poe was just about to say something when, out of no where, he felt a harsh slap on his back.

"Hey, Poe! Whatcha doin?" Ranpo yelled with a smile on his face

"R-Ranpo!" Poe said with shock

"Ranpo! Took you long enough. I've been here waiting" you said, a tad annoyed

"I got lost, sugar" Ranpo responded to you while kissing your cheek

"Of course you did" you sighed

"S-sugar?" Poe was stunned

"Oh, yeah! Poe this is y/n, my girlfriend, and y/n this is Poe, the person I told you we're going to meet up today"

Poe felt his soul leave his body. He didn't know Ranpo had a significant other. You were also a little stunned. You just thought 'what a coincidence'

"I see you've already greeted each other" Ranpo said

You chuckled "well I was just having fun with the raccoon"

"R-Ranpo, I didn't know you had a girlfriend"

"Well now you know! She's quite the beauty, isn't she?" He started to attack your face with kisses. People's eyes went towards you two, making you slightly embarrassed

"Ranpo, I love you, but this is not the place" you whispered with consideration

"Your right. We should save all that stuff for later" Ranpo said with a smirk

Poe looked pale as snow "hm? Is everything ok?" Ranpo asked Poe

"Oh, n-nothing. I have to sit down"

Suddenly, Poe felt Ranpo put a hand on his shoulder and leaned into his ear

" I know you must be devastated, but there are other fish in the sea" Ranpo gave him a warm smile

Poe's face went completely red. He couldn't defend himself, even if he wanted to. You just looked at the two with confusion.

"Now time for the investigation!" Ranpo yelled

It didn't take long for Ranpo to finish the investigation, to be Honest, you don't really know why he brought you and Poe along, maybe he was just bored. You all sat on a bench while eating ice cream. You were all enjoying the silence and the taste of the desert until Ranpo blurted out

"Well me and y/n have to do something very quickly before I forget. Just wait for us here Poe!"

Ranpo then grabs your hand and drags you into a building. You still had your ice cream in your hand as he took you into the restroom. It was a single bathroom, so you had the whole room to yourselves. I think you know where this is about to go.

Poe checks the time after waiting for about 5 minutes. He saw the building you and him went into and decided to go and find you two. He looked around in the building and couldn't find a single trace. Poe then decided to just go to the restroom, but before he even touched the handle he heard voices from the inside.

Ranpo was nibbling gently on your neck, leaving small dark hickeys all over you. You were straddling Ranpo as you jumped on his dick. Your hands were on his hair and shoulder and his were on your hips.

"You feel so good around me, sugar~ so tight~" he mumbles against your skin

"Mmn~ too good~ Ranpo, I'm going to cum~"

Poe's face was red as if all of his blood went to his cheeks. He immediately speed walked back to the bench and decided to wait for you two there. He'd be lying if he said your moans didn't aroused him.

When he went back to the bench. He tried to cover his slightly hardened cock by crossing his legs. He couldn't get your voice out of his head. It didn't take long for you and Ranpo to come back. Ranpo had a big smile on his face and you were slightly blushing while smiling.

"We're back! And it's time to go"

Poe blushed a bit "where did you guys go?"

He tried to act dumb, but he forgot he was talking to the Greatest detective. Ranpo smirked and leaned into his ear

"I think you already know"

💜FYODOR 💜

Fyodor is a man who has many enemies, but his main one would be Dazai. You first met Dazai when you were walking with Fyodor to an alleyway. Fyodor left his stuff in a dumpster and couldn't find his hat when suddenly Dazai appeared, wearing his white ushanka.

You were surprised when someone from the ADA found you two, but Fyodor seemed relaxed, as if he knew this was going to happen.They both exchange a couple of words, when suddenly, Dazai noticed your presence.

He was astonished at how he didn't pay attention to you until now. Fyodor's eyes grew a bit darker, knowing what Dazai's thoughts were

"Oh my.." Dazai started, while staring at you with star gazed eyes and slight blushed cheeks

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever come across" he said with a soft voice, like he couldn't believe his eyes

You looked at him with a confused face, shocked by the words this man was saying to you. He shouldn't be flirting with someone from an organization that's trying to eliminate his.

"Ah~ So that's how fallen angels lure the humans into sin. With you being one of them and as stunning, bewitching, drop dead gorgeous as you are, who could ever say no to you? " Dazai said

Before you could respond, Fyodor got in front of you in a possessive manner. Your head peeking out of his shoulder as Dazai looked at you two like he was thinking, then put two and two together

"Oh! I'm sorry, are you two an item by any chance?" Dazai asked, scratching his head

"I would prefer if you wouldn't speak to her" Fyodor responded with a wicked smile

"Wow, how cute! Look at you being all protective~ I would be too if she was mine. You are quite a lucky man aren't you?" Dazai smirks

"Indeed I am and don't waste your time coming up with faithless ideas. She would never fall for someone like you"

Their faces and tone was filled with an intense, passive aggressive aura. It was making you uncomfortable as they both slyly smiled at each other.You decided to back Fyodor up to kill two birds with one stone. To help Fyodor ease up a bit and to tell Dazai to respectfully stfu.

"I would have to agree. I mean, I wouldn't fall for a half done mummy" you said

The cold atmosphere immediately went away when their focus was back to you. Fyodor let out an amused chuckle as Dazai was embarrassed. His face turned white

"I've been called many things, But not a half done mummy" Dazai responded in almost a whine and a pout

After more exchanges of words, someone from the top of a building shoots Dazai. It left you in shock, but Fyodor gave you a reassuring look, you then knew that this was just part of his plan.

After they both said their last words, Fyodor gives you a look that tells you it's time to go. You nod and give him a small smile as you hug his left arm, your cheek laying on his shoulder. While you both walk away, Fyodor kisses the top of your head, side eyeing Dazai who's laid out on the ground looking at you two.

When you two both made it home safely. He brought you towards the bedroom and very gently started to kiss your lips. Your heart was fluttering. His lips felt like tears, kindly caressing your skin and bringing you sudden warmth.It was a struggle, but when you both needed some air, you pulled away. Both of you breathing heavily

"Don't tell me I have to remind you that I only have eyes for you, Fedya" you said in a breathy whisper

He smiled "of course not, my love. I just.. have to mark what's mine"

He pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you. He begins to kiss your neck, already making you moan quietly.

"I have to show others that you belong to me" he says against your skin.

That night, Fyodor made love to you in a tender, yet rough, way. He left hickeys and bite marks in visible places, which only turned you on more and moan his name.One of your hands was grabbing onto his shoulder and the other held the back of his head while he sucked on your neck.

He was going at a normal pace, but even then he reached deep inside you. He stops sucking on the skin of your neck to kiss the fresh mark. You could hear him quietly groan.

"Oh, how I wish he could see how beautifully you spread your legs just for me, moya lyubov~" he said in between kisses

He lifts his head up, his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes

" mmm~ I want him to know how incredible I make you feel ah~ how much I satisfy you in every way"

"Mmm~ you do, Fedya~ ah~! Your the only one who's ever made me satisfied~" you responded

He smirks then starts to thrust deeper into you, reaching you two closer to your climaxes. "You are so ravishing, my love~ I'm- mmn~ at my limit~" he groans

You wrapped your legs completely around his waist, locking him in place to tell him to cum inside you. The pleasure was too good, you couldn't even form sentences.

He understood what you wanted and kept going.A little while longer of rubbing his cock against your tight walls, he found his release and came deep inside, biting your neck, letting a groan out .

You moaned his name loudly as you also came with him. You both didn't move for a bit. You were just trying to catch your breaths, but he softly says

"I really am a lucky man to call you mine"

💙ATSUSHI💙

Atsushi's rival is obviously Akutagawa. You were on a shopping date with Atsushi, but you both parted ways for a bit and decided to meet up somewhere else.

You were on your phone trying to find Atsushi while walking on the sidewalk. You then randomly bumped into someone roughly, it was almost like you hit a wall.

"Watch where your-!... Oh" the stranger said.

He was annoyed at first when someone suddenly bumped into him, but when he took a good look at you, he felt his mind go blank just for a second, in a good way somehow.You touched your head to ease the pain as you look at the stranger.

He had black hair with white tips at the front. He wore a long, black coat with a ruffled top. You noticed his tone was full of anger at first that soon turned to a calm one.

"I- I'm sorry" he apologized

You felt like it was actually your fault for bumping into him "No, I'm sorry! I wasn't looking"

His eyes widen slightly "I wasn't either. your fine"

You smile kindly, but you realized that you've probably seen him before

"...hey, you look familiar.." you said

He look dumbfounded and without thinking he said "I doubt it. If I've seen someone like you before, I would've remember"

Your eyes widen a bit as you tilted your head. He realized what he just said and blushed slightly "I mean-.. I just have a good memory"

You chuckle gently while scratching your head "Yeah, I must be imagining things"

You both looked at eachother for a second before you heard a familiar voice next to you "Y/n, I got you some flowers! I hope you like them"

You look at a small bouquet that Atsushi had in his hands and smile widely. You gasp "Awe, thank you so much, Atsushi. You didn't have to" you kiss his cheek

"You?..." The stranger whispered, grumbling gently

"Akutagawa?" Atsushi said.

You finally realized why the stranger looked familiar. It's because you've heard about him from the ADA

"what are you doing here?" They said at the same time

"I'm here on a date" Atsushi responded. His eyes darken and his tone seemed on edge

Akutagawa's face looked extremely confused "A date? You? "

You stepped into the conversation "Yes, I'm his girlfriend"

Akutagawa looked at you baffled. Why is someone like you dating someone like him and why does he care so much? He doesn't know you at all, but he felt... Disappointed.

Without thinking he said in a harsh tone "You shouldn't waste your time on a pathetic man like him"

Atsushi eyes looked hurt for a split second. How dare someone talk about him like this?

You protested "Atsushi is the strongest man I know in every way"

He responded " Don't be ridiculous. You could do better"

Now you were pissed "Why don't you mind your own business? And I doubt I could. He's the only one who's ever made me satisfied"

Before anybody could say more, you held Atsushi's hand and dragged him away from Akutagawa. Akutagawa wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Why did he care so much about someone he barley just met? He doesn't know

As you dragged Atsushi away, after a couple minutes, Atsushi started to gently tell you to stop. You immediately stopped as you apologized to Atsushi

"I'm sorry, I just didn't like how he spoke about you and any second longer I probably would've done something I would regret" you said embarrassed

He looked at you with a worried expression "Did you really mean everything you said?"

You look at him surprised "Of course I do. Without a doubt!"

He smiles genuinely while he hugs you passionately "Thank you" he whispers

You hug him back with a warm smile, but you then asked "Don't tell me you believed some of his words because if so. I'll just have to prove to you how much I love you"

He smiled kindly "I already know, love, but um-" he looked away embarrassed with a blush "I..didn't like how he was looking at you" he finished his sentence

"How do you mean?"

"It- doesn't matter, but" he pushed your back gently against a wall while hugging you

In you ear he said " I don't want people getting the wrong idea that your single, so..." Atsushi kisses your neck, pulling you closer with his hand that's on your back, forgetting that you were both in a public setting.

He mumbles against your skin "I want others to know your mine"

Time flew by after you both made it to your apartment. You were both in your room, on the bed, with Atsushi on top of you. His thrusts were rough and so were his bites on your body, but his kisses were so full of love.

The bed frame would occasionally hit against the wall, making a thudding noise.You were both moaning and breathing heavily. The sensation made your heart beat faster as you were slowly feeling your release approaching

He bites on your shoulder as you moan his name loudly. "Your voice is so beautiful, y/n , mmn~! e-especially when you say my name~ "

He kissed your lips and asked "do I- ah~! make you feel good?"

You look into his eyes "you feel so good~ mmn~ i-im actually about to- ah~ cum~"

"I-i love it when you do ngh~! so don't hold back~"

His thrusts became harder and faster. His cock reaching deeper inside of you and it felt like he was only getting bigger. You could tell he was close to cumming too

You scratched your nails against his back, leaving red lines all over him. He kept saying ' I love you's' as he went faster. Both of you moaning and whimpering until he gripped your hips tightly and shot his load inside you.

You were both panting as you felt each other twitching from the orgasm. He was still inside you as he kissed your lips. He looked at you deeply in the eyes

"can we..do it again?"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

We all know who Chuuya's rival is, which is Dazai. You were following Chuuya after you both heard that the port mafia captured him. You've never seen the guy, but Chuuya always talked smack about him, so naturally, you also don't really like the guy.

When you walked down some stairs, you saw a man cuffed to a Pilar. He hands and even neck were covered in bandages. His hair was brown with slight curls.

Based off of what Chuuya has told you, this is Dazai.His eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, but when he heard foot steps approaching, his eyes went directly towards you first

His eyes turned into stars as he said "Do my eyes deceive me or do I see a goddess? Am I..in heaven? Oh wait, Chuuya is here. nevermind"

You were taken aback by the flirtatious comment, but before you could react, Chuuya punched Dazai in the stomach. You heard Dazai grunt in pain

"Want to say that to my girlfriend again, you bastard?"

"Girlfriend? You? Out of all people, you have a girlfriend?" Dazai asked in disbelief before he started to chuckle, only making Chuuya punch him again

They both kept making fun of the other for a bit before Chuuya asked him what his real plan for being captured was. Dazai said he planned to be killed, but Chuuya didn't buy it.

Dazai's attention went back to you for a split second, before talking to Chuuya again "You better be treating her well or else I'd snatch her right up~"

Chuuya, with his feet, cuts off the chains that were holding Dazai. "I'd like to see you try without getting killed! And what makes you think I don't treat her well? I bet all you'd do is ask her to do a double suicide with you"

"Your not wrong, but not before i treat her like a queen"

"Shut up! The real reason why I'm here is because I want to fight you. I want to crush you and whatever scheme you dreamed up"

Dazai then, with a snap of his fingers, unlocks his cuffs. They both exchanged words, Dazai spoke about how if he wanted to be free he would've done so. They then proceeded with full on fighting each other.

At this point, you were just there watching the fight. No real reason as to why you were there, but at least you were enjoying the fight. After awhile of them beating eachother up, Dazai told Chuuya why he can't kill him and if he did, he'd just get into trouble. This made Chuuya mad because he knows Dazai is right

After a few more words, Chuuya held your hand gently and walked towards to the stairs to leave. Before you two left, Dazai said something to you

"If you ever want to do a double suicide call me, my belladonna~ I would love it if you, a goddess, to be the last thing I see on this earth"

You saw that Chuuya was about to yell some shit at him, but you then said with a smile "Wish I could say the same, but I'm in love with Chuuya"

He smiles back at you "Oh Trust me, Belladonna. You could do so much better"

"BASTARD!" Chuuya was about to go beat up Dazai again, until you held the back of his jacket to keep him steady

"Trust you? trust me when I say you can never be compared to Chuuya. Not in a million years"

Your eyes suddenly darkened as you still held a smile "I don't like it when assholes make fun of the people I love, so please shut the fuck up"

Your words only made Dazai shiver "so creepy. I bet you learned that from Chuuya"

Chuuya ignored his words and just looked into your eyes. He loved that you just told Dazai off. Chuuya simply cupped your cheek as he smiled at you. He kissed your cheek, but you grabbed his face to kiss his lips.

You were both passionately kissing while Dazai was just uncomfortably watching. "Um- hey, you guys know I'm still here, right?"

Chuuya suddenly carries you bridal style "Yea, sorry, we suddenly have plans. Something you wouldn't understand"

Before Dazai could say anything Chuuya left. You quickly found yourselves at your shared apartment on the bed. You both kissed eachother roughly while moaning.

He pulled away for a second "Sorry, darling, but I have to let others know that your not available"

He went to kiss your neck and shoulders, already starting to bite and leave hickeys. You held the back of his head to bring him closer. He picked you up by under your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms went around his neck.

He then aggressively hits your back against a wall and looks at you "Say goodbye to walking, love, because it's going to be a fun night~"

Minutes passed and you find yourself bending over a table as Chuuya fucks you from behind. Both of you moaning loudly while your skin claps against each thrust.The table was scrapping against the ground from how aggressive he was being. His grip on your ass was definitely going to leave a mark and your nails left scratch marks on the table.

He then bent over. His chin was on your shoulder while he kissed your cheek. Chuuya, out of no where, bites deeply into your shoulder, making you moan his name loud.

He pulled away "Oh, f-fuck~ you feel so fucking good, doll~ ngh~! If only he could see you"

Something inside him was different. usually he would never do this, but at the moment he was very possessive.

"Doll~ mmn~! do you mind if I show that ass for brains how good I make you feel?"

You could only respond with a nod. You weren't thinking straight, the pleasure was just too good, but you thought 'why not?'.

Chuuya smirks slightly while, using his ability, he got his phone and started to record only your voice and nothing else.When you notice he was recording, you started to moan his name loudly and kept praising how good Chuuya is. You heard chuuya groan deeply as he went at a faster pace

"F-fuck~! I- I'm- agh~! c-cumming~! C-Chuuya~" you moaned

You heard Chuuya's grunts become louder and louder, until he thrusted deep inside you to cum inside you. Both of you moaned loudly as you came together.You were breathing heavily and at the same time you felt your legs quivering. You couldn't feel them at all.

Chuuya then remembers that he's still recording and presses the send button before really thinking about what he just did, but that's for you two to worry about in the future. Dazai is always messing with him, so he was just returning the favor

He leaned into your ear and whispered while he kissed it. "your my love~ I love you so much"