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#bsd x y/n
4ngel-inc · 1 day
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࿔*:・ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 ࿐
tags — fem reader, a little angsty but mostly fluff !! ᰔ
𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 never wanted to let you go, he'd always believed you'd be together forever, but when he finally opened up and told you about his past—about his time in the mafia and everything that entailed—he thought he noticed a flicker of fear in your eyes, and it scared him. he simply couldn't handle the thought of being judged or abandoned later down the line for his past mistakes. it was selfish, really, the way the tears rolled down your cheeks solely from such an impulsive decision on his part. he regretted it immediately, but it was simply too late—he'd already broken your heart. for months, he contemplated how to get you back—flowers and apologies simply wouldn't be enough, he knew that. did he even deserve your love, after the heartache he'd put you through? he finally convinced you to grab coffee at your favorite cafe, and decided on a very simple approach, the one you deserved—spilling his heart out to you entirely. "i just want to be loved, i've never admitted it to anyone, and i've never loved anyone. i'm- uh, not sure what to do with my feelings." he looks sad, and it's the most serious you've ever seen him. after listening to him pour his heart out for a while, and overcoming a little hesitation, you decide to give him another chance. "we can try again, but please, let me see the real you this time, osamu," he waits for you to finish, "it wasn't fear in my eyes, it was love. i just can't bear the thought of you hurting, or of you being so lonely, but i'm here now, k?" you both smile, and share a sweet kiss.
𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 isn't the type to thrive off of instability—he likes safety, security in a relationship. he never wanted the type of relationship that was on and off again, it was childish in his eyes, and not something he found appealing. and so the first time you two had decided to take a break, he told himself it was the last time—he was done with the relationship, and brushed it off as a passing fling, since you two were only together less than a year. however, he begins to understand why he trusted you in the first place as time goes on and your absence starts to sink in—you made him feel different than the rest, made him feel like a different person. there was something in the way you touched him that made him feel worthy, like love wasn't a rarity or a foreign concept, but simply a part of his everyday life. and now, that feeling is gone. chuuya is quite stubborn, so it takes him a while to realize how much he truly misses you, but when it finally sinks in one night, as he aerates an expensive red wine in his glass he's sure you'd scold him for drinking so late at night, he decides enough is enough. it doesn't take long for him to show up at your door, and he's quite frank when he arrives—as soon as you open the door, he sighs, "no relationship is perfect, i'm sorry i gave up on ours, it was a stupid fight. can we try again, doll? i miss you, a lot actually." needless to say, you give in.
𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 wasn't expecting you two to break up at all, but you just couldn't handle the pain of watching him come home bruised and bloodied every night. even more than that, you couldn't understand why he wanted to continue working for the mafia anyways, especially when they were clearly just using him—you butted heads about it a lot, and eventually you decided to leave, akutagawa coming home to an empty apartment one day. you'd warned him you were leaving a few days before, but that didn't lessen the hurt he felt the first time he had to sleep alone. even now, weeks later, as he showers and climbs into bed, he doesn't feel the same as he did before he met you. is he changing? he feels softer, more vulnerable, he feels like crying—he hates to admit it. however, you are the one who decides to come back to him, realizing you'd made a mistake. you knock on his front door one night as he's getting ready for bed, and though he answers with an inquisitive look in his eyes, he lets you in. "what are you doing here?" he asks. you sigh, "don't sound so happy to see me." he isn't sure how open he should be with his feelings, you'll likely just hurt him again. "should i be happy? you won't stay, anyways." you approach him hesitantly, "i was wrong about us, about you—the mafia is the life you know, and loving someone means accepting all of them. if you'll give me another chance, ryūnosuke," you pause before continuing again, "i'd like to show you how much i love you this time, i don't want to be scared anymore." it isn't difficult for him to give in, and you stay the night, and all of the nights after.
𝐅𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 never pictured himself in a serious relationship, so when he does find himself settling into one, it makes him a bit nervous. he isn't used to anything, or anyone, uprooting his life or shaking things up—other than work. so, he's a bit more critical of relationships that he might be otherwise. after your first petty argument, one that only happened months into your relationship, he convinces himself that maybe, the two of you just aren't quite a good fit. he lets you down easy, "dear, i'm worried maybe we've rushed into this a bit. i'd like to take a step back, for the time being." needless to say, it hurts, a lot. but you decide to respect his wishes and give him his space, and you find you're starting to enjoy being single again. moving on from fukuzawa isn't easy—he's the man of your dreams—but after convincing yourself you simply aren't the one he wants anymore, you begin to heal, and see the sun shine through the clouds a bit. however, fukuzawa only grows lonelier as the days go on. it's the silence of his home when he returns late at night, the way he craves the sweets you'd make him, the way he reads his books without you by his side, and the way he takes his walks without your hand there to hold, that make him realize life with you was always better than life alone. fukuzawa is a stern man, but not when it comes to this—he calls you and calmly asks to talk, and after humbly asking for another chance, it's easy to give him one. he's ready to love you with no inhibitions this time—you deserve the best of him, after all, and he'll gladly give it to you.
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mvniro · 2 days
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BABY BABY, WON'T YOU SLEEP SOON?
father!chuuya nakahara nsfw drabble.
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having a baby with chuuya except,,
taking care of said baby as you cradle it in your arms only for your husband, the devil of the port mafia, nakahara chuuya, to come and once again prove why 'the devil' is a fitting nickname for him.
because when he wrapped his arms on your waist, making sure to not disturb his and your child by accidently touching the kid and risk waking it up as the baby is slowly falling into slumber, he didn't really look or act like an angel.
and it's a wonder how hands so rough when taking someone's life can feel so gently cruel right now as his hands slip under the waistband of your pajamas to tap against your clit, beginning to rub lazy circles around it while he presses himself slowly against you from the back. his hardness pressing against your ass and making your breath hitch.
his head is leaned down on your neck as he peppers it, as if your skin is his own journal and he is pouring out little secrets with his gentle and quick pecks.
"want me to help doll? the quicker we put him to sleep, the quicker i get you all to myself." chuuya whispered as he titled his head to speak into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and sucking it.
his thumb circles around your clit faster and his humps are beginning to get noticeable, making your body move a bit with every thrust. his other hand was about to slither towards your clevage had it not been for the baby whimpering, the heartbreak of a slumber getting disturbed catching up with its fragile little heart and chuuya stops.
with a snicker, he kisses your nape and with one last thrust, he steps back. you hiss though your teeth, looking over your shoulder to glare at him as you clench your legs together.
you parted your lips to speak but the baby beat you to it, crying and you immediately looked at it, rocking the baby in your arms as you try to soothe it and chuuya smirked. he took steps back to plop down on the bed and spread his legs apart, watching you cradle the baby in your arms while you rubbed your legs together too, the wetness between your legs caused by him making you unable to stay calm and not head dive first to seek for some pleasure and release right now.
maybe it's the port mafia ways catching up to him or maybe he had always been a bit of a sick bastard deep down he thought as chuuya's hand slipped under his sweatpants to caress his hardened cock, pulling it out as he began to move his fists to the sight of you so hot and bothered yet not free to do anything about it. atleast not till the baby sleeps.
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k3m1y4 · 2 days
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“are we still friends?”
chuuya x reader
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summary: one-sided love, rejected by love itself. alone, rejected by society itself.
author’s note: kinda angsty, rejection, darliiiinggggg i’m back from jaillll!!!!<3, anyways i’m verri lazy and based this off my c.ai chats since i’m lazy making fanfics rn since my lazy ass is not WORKING, not proofread and some words are typed wrong words if so bc somehow idk how i do that?
©️. 🔛🔙🔝: playing :: are we still friends? ‘“
✖️: artist: Tyler, The Creator
©️©️:: — “are we still friends? can we be friends?”
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It’s been a half glass of 3 years, you’ve been in love with Chuuya Nakahara. You consider as your “bestfriend” and so does he say. Although, the lacing affection lingering in your actions suspects him so—the way you so randomly offer him alleged gifts, hats, and so whatever he has sitting in his empty wasteland of is a mind. Light lit open racing through the silky dark bluish night, stars shooting across the starry starred sky. For some reason, there’s a bothering sensation you can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard and desperate you try, you are unable to flee from your birdy antics. Well, per se. Words cannot just be said, without a facade of fineness in foolish, dumbly intentional acts. Changing topics once a star passes by each tick you shift your strings connecting your mind to who knows where it’ll deliberately reach?
Wherein, you sit beside Chuuya, Nakahara. Actually, until now. You were two, plainly sat on an edge. Higher where the ocean meets, high up the soaring clouds resting above the skies. Gliding gently, the wind pushes heavily. A place where you treasure deeply, buried in your veins of heart, with him. Enjoying his accompany, as usual, a single day will never be completely complete unless if two visits a location memories arose from its silent grave. You thought, you may have thought Nakahara was oblivious to your secret admiring feelings for him. He called you out, patiently waiting for you to place your gaze over him. “Name.” Chuuya’s voice rang in your ears, as he predicted. You pried your attention away from the sparkling skies distracting you from his snap. Before your mouth parts to let out a speech, “You know I don’t like you, right?” You pause discreetly, your body tensing. Have you been caught red-handed? “Hah…?” Your eyes narrowed slightly, in which he obviously noticed despite how small the detail was.
He raised a brow, his tine remaining cold and blunt, this was… uncommon for you, you were unable to adapt his quite harshness. “I said,” He repeated, “You know I don’t like you, right?” He asks once again, “Ohh, that.” You clear your throat before tearing your gaze away from his pierce for a moment. “Right…” Chuuya keeps his unbothered expression, he’s more of aware it’s difficult to hear stinging words coming from the person you loved, rejection. Was what you have gotten. So, he continues further on from speaking the truth.
“And you know I won’t change my mind, right?” This was the least he could do, than resulting your delusions into worse. “Yeah, I know.” You respond, replying with a single nod in addition. You needed time to process what’s happening right now, you must be going insane—you feel your heart dwelling in a hole. Unsure of what to concentrate on, terrible to experience. Feeling a knot tie in your stomach, can he feel what you feel? He sighs, creating an unpleasant conversation for the both of two individuals. He’s sorry, he really is. But, he can’t change his feelings for you. “So, you know there’s no point trying to make me change my mind?” He says softly as he held his hat in his gloved hands. “Well aware of that, certain fact.” You comment as you silently breathe, your thinking was crossing the borderline from the gash, ouch, that hurts. “So you’re not gonna convince me to date you, right?”
Bang.
That may have stabbed you, mentally. “No, I’d rather not.” You spat the words out, even though your heart was still throbbing in regret, oh how you wish you never met him at all, it wouldn’t have resort to this mess. Nakahara sighs, this whole thing wasn’t easy for him at all. He can’t help it at all, he asks her. “But I just have one question.” He has caught your attention, in repeat. “Are you going to give up on me?” He questions, curiosity piquing up on him. Answering with a nod, “Why?” Asking back, he tilts his head. He didn’t expect you, nor to predict you to simply say ‘yes’ out of your aching throat. “You’re really going to give up liking me?” He had to ask twice to assure she wasn’t lying to his face at all. “Yeah.” You straightforwardly accept, he takes a deep breath. “And, are you sure about that?” His sentences were filled to the brim with flooding unsure curiousness and slight concern. He felt, apologetic, sorry. You nod, “Then there’s something we have to clear out before proceeding with anything else.” Chuuya’s voice, hinting with worry. “Don’t ever try to convince me to like you or date you. If you did that, we’re done as bestfriends.” He remarks, his speaking really, really, made you vulnerable. Still, you managed to mask a facade.
“Yep.” You agree, to his terms. He was surprised, you were really giving up on him without a single fight, complaint, no. You did it so easily, he’s relieved. Smiling silently, “Are you sure?” He asks one more last time, “Yeah.” You say weakly, gluing a smile on your lips to return. “I’m sorry for making you give up like this, I’m really sorry.” His gaze suddenly soften, yours did too automatically. “It’s okay, I understand.” You sit up as the stars were still shining like usual somehow. “I’ll be taking my leave, that’s all.” He stood up and left. Leaving you alone, in the dark. You look down, how lame. Though, you look back. “Wait! Are we still friends?!” You yell back, standing quickly from your feet. His presence was gone, you were hanging on a cliff, now. Maybe not now.
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a/n: !—Hello pookies!!! I am verri sorry for being unactive 😔. I’ve been losing motivation this year and my ass is not producing a single braincell, I am losing motivation again!!! I’ll take a bit long to post since I need some time from writing this month, I decided to post another fanfic post anyways <3!!
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Cherry Blossom Break-Ups 🌸 Dazai Osamu x Reader
Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!Reader Genre: hurt/comfort Word Count: 1 457 Warnings: mentions of alcohol, talk of breaking up, mentions of wounds and blood (symbolically) Summary: Dazai only met with you to break up with you, but he can’t bring himself to do it.
Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist
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The air was tense. Not just from the impending thunderstorm that was brewing over your heads as you were sitting with your backs against the stem of a blooming cherry tree, shoulders almost touching, but also from the words you knew Dazai was holding back on. You had known today would come, and when he had asked you to meet out here, under that lone cherry tree with the view over the bay, you knew that this was it.
Really, maybe it was best this way.
Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself. Dazai had somehow seemed to have grown sadder in the past months, and you knew the time in which your presence brought him the comfort to keep the memories of the past at bay way over. Maybe he had grown used to you, the same way people started to grow used to the effect of alcohol, but with you there was no increase in the dosage.
This triggered the unwelcome thought that maybe he had only ever been with you because you made him feel better. Maybe your relationship had never been more than a bandage to wrap the wounds of his past. And now that the bandage was blood-soaked, it had gotten useless, and he was about to discard it. If your relationship really had never been more than that, then it would be better to end it.
But you didn't want him to end it!
You knew you should respect yourself more than that, but you knew it would break your heart. It had been foolish at best, stupid at worst, to allow him to pull you into this whirlwind of an affair. An affair that all too soon had turned serious enough to be a relationship, and him introducing you has his lover had only sealed that deal. And your stupid, little heart had fallen for those soft brown curls, those dark eyes that held both such joy and such pain. You should have held tighter onto your heart, but it had taken off, settling straight into Dazai's palm where it now patiently waited to be crushed.
At your side he suddenly groaned and stretched his arms over his head, his coat sleeves falling down to his elbows revealing his bandage-wrapped forearms. You had never seen him without those bandages. Part of you wondered if you should have asked him to take them off at some point, just to give him the feeling you wanted to reach deep into his heart. But you never had, out of respect for his boundaries.
"Just do it alread," you whispered, unable to take the silence any longer.
"I can't," Dazai replied, placing his hands down in his lap. "I really thought I could but… I can't." He kept his eyes trained on the horizon, blue, storm riddled waves meeting dark grey clouds. "I don't want to."
"You've drawn completely away from me, Osamu. You don't even hold me anymore at night and when you kiss me, it feels like you only do it as a chore, not because you want to. You brought us here to break up with me, so just do it."
Lightning cracked through the sky, followed by the deep rumbling of thunder. He still didn't meet your eyes.
"'s not a chore," he disagreed, but his voice barely carried over the wind. "you're right, I came here to break up with you but- I don't want to lose you. I… any relationship I've ever been in has been for no other purpose but my entertainment. I'm not prideful enough to deny that. But then I met you and I thought it would be just like that again. Another girl to share my meals with, to keep me warm at night. Yet it wasn't. And it scared me. Still does. And I thought I'd want to end it. But the more I think about it, the less I want to."
His voice carried over the wind picking up, tucking cherry petals from the trees and through the air like snow flakes. Another lightning flickered across the sky.
"I need you to understand the difference here. I can imagine what it would be like without you. It's not like I'm solemnly dependant on you, and I know you aren't on me. But I don't want to imagine it. I don't want to live without you anymore. But it's taken me to bring you out here to break up with you, to really understand that."
You turned you head away, unable to look at his averted eyes any longer. His words were brutally honest, cut small wounds into your heart, but you had a feeling they were the kinds of wounds you needed to heal. From the corner of your eyes you saw Dazai turn to you, but you refused to look at him.
"If you want to end things here, I understand. I'll even do you the favour of being the one to end things if that's what you need me to do. And I will do it, even though I don't want to."
You slightly shook your head. "I don't want you to, but Osamu-" turning to him, you momentarily forgot what you had wanted to say when you saw the emotions flickering in his eyes. Love, hope, sadness, despair, determination.
"Osamu," you repeated. "I don't want this to end, I love you and I know that we're still young, so much can still change, but for now I want to be with you. But we can't go on like we have in the past months! I can't constantly doubt your affections for me, whether my touch doesn't actually disgust you, whether I can hold a man like you. Every morning for the past few months I've woken up, thinking I had to be perfect, perfect clothes, perfect make up, perfect hair, perfect work just to earn my stay at your side-"
"My love," Dazai shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me you felt like this? It's true, I wasn't sure what I felt, but now I know. Now I know for sure. And I made my decision. I want to fight for you, for us. I want to be with you. Your touch," he took your hand in his. Your skin was cool from the spring storm stripping away the warmth from your hands, but his were warm and familiar. Lifting your hand up to his face, he nuzzled his cheek into your palm. "Your touch could never disgust me. It has never brought anything but comfort and an unrivalled feeling of safety. And it confused me because I've never known anything like that before. But I love you just like I love your touch and I'm no longer afraid to show or tell so. And I'm no longer afraid to feel so. I love you the way you are. The way you wake up in the morning, no make-up, no fancy clothes. I don't want a mask you put on; I want your authentic self. I want the weird ideas you sometimes get. I want the pranks you pull on me and Kunikida. I want your fears and your worries and all the emotions you consider bad and think you shouldn't feel. I want all of that just as I want your love, your joy, your laugh, your happiness. I want all of you… and that's quite selfish."
Slowly he dropped your hand back into your lap, but as he was about to let go, you grabbed hold of his hand.
"Then be selfish," you asked. "And I'll be selfish too. Because I want all of that from you too. I don't want things to end here. Just promise me, we'll get better at being with each other."
The wind caught Dazai's hair, ripping at it mercilessly as he stared at you with wide, brown eyes as if he was unable to believe you were willing to give the two of you another chance. Finally he nodded, the smile on his lips, faint, barely there, but you knew him well enough to know how relieved he was.
"We will get better," he nodded, placing his hand at your face, and pulling you in for a kiss. Soft, sweet, lingering. A kiss like you hadn't shared in weeks.
"Promise me, Osamu," you whispered against his lips. "Promise me we'll make this work."
Pink blossoms danced through the air as another lightning lit up the sky and the first drops of rain started to fall.
"I promise," Dazai replied, pulling away from your lips only long enough to phrase his answer before he leant back in, sealing his promise with a kiss.
And he never broke his promise.
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allisonlol · 9 months
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chuuya dazai and fyodor when reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day OHKYIGOAHSS
a/n: hiii everyone i have crawled out of my void to offer you this post !! ty to the anon who came up with this wonderful idea. i've missed posting omg and we somehow are so close to 3k despite my inactivity??? slay. shall open reqs again once we get there mwehehe
warnings: slight nsfw
(Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor) When You Try to Remove Hickeys
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Chuuya
he's gonna be the most chill about this tbh
it's your body and if you don't want ppl seeing that on you then that's ur choice!!
however
hiding them is one thing, but that doesn't mean he wants to see you removing them
so yknow that hack where you take a whisk and like,,,twist it over the mark to get rid of it?
yeah so you tried that...and it was actually working until chuuya barged into the room and demanded to know what you were doing
bro is not happy to see the hickies he'd proudly left on you last night being somehow removed by a WHISK
grabs that mf thing and throws it across the room
chuuya's not angry at you, more so frustrated and insecure?? cuz like why would u wanna get rid of them
he's lowkey gonna start pouting tbh. won't say anything else but will glare & give u silent treatment
won't stop until you admit the only reason u removed them is because it was too visible with your work uniform and u didn't want everyone staring smh
insist that he should give you more in areas that people won't see and there's no guarantee y'all won't be late to work <3
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Dazai
oh lord
so dazai really loves to mark you up
and last night was no different. your neck was black and blue with hickies
deadass to the point where you nearly had a heart attack when you saw it in the morning
"how am i gonna go to work like this?!" you practically sob to him while he LAUGHS
his only advice is "then don't go" as if both of y'all don't need to have ur asses at the agency in 20 minutes
you check ur phone for the time and when u see this you panic and sprint to your shared bedroom
you try everything you can think of to cover them
first you hastily layer concealer on your neck, to no avail as the marks were too dark
then digging through ur closet for clothes with a high enough neckline to hide it, to which you found none
whole time dazai is leaning against the doorframe, watching ur meltdown with an amused expression
he approaches and helps u up from the floor where u had collapsed with all the clothes strewn around you ☹️
"allow me to pick out something for you to wear" ….oh god
u guys are beyond late at this point so you sigh and accept defeat, to which dazai picks a shirt that of course displays all the marks on your neck
you got lots of stares that day to say the least
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Fyodor
surprisingly fyodor doesn't usually leave too many marks on you to begin with
he's got that old fashioned take where it's like "other people don't need to see that and be in our business" if u know what i mean
however, he is also a very possessive man
^so when he gets worked up and does leave hickeys on you, the last thing he wants to see is you trying to hide or remove them
which is exactly what he walked in on u doing today
you were trying the good old "rub an ice cube on it" hack before u had to work
now this mf thinks you have some hidden agenda as to why you wanted them gone
"are you seeing someone else" 💀💀
PLS u didn't realize he had been watching from the doorway and this scares u so bad u drop the ice cube down ur shirt
u start frantically trying to get it out of ur shirt while yelling at him like "i have to work, wtf are u talking about???"
u immediately stop tho when he storms up to u and grabs your face to make you look at him
his face is so cold and unreadable omg it's scary
his eyes shift to the marks on your neck as he traces over them with his fingers
"leave these alone" he says lowly, then adjusts the collar of your shirt so they are partially covered
neither of u will say anything more about it after that, but fyodor sends sigma to secretly follow u to work to make sure that's where ur really going 😓
taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @mianqo
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kentopedia · 6 months
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♰ his parliament's on fire — dazai osamu
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 1 - nightclub owner!dazai
every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they’d commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai’s.
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, port mafia boss!dazai, port mafia member!reader, bsd typical blood / violence, unprotected sex, established relationship, takes place before doa, dazai & reader are a lil unhinged bc they're in love, praise, soft dazai, riding dazai, sub reader, v slight breeding kink oops — 10.1k
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The music shook your chest as you watched people head to the front of the club for a dance, a combination of those that were regulars, and those who were just desperate to blow their money on an evening in one of the finest night clubs in the country.
It had grown hot in the club, even for an autumn evening in Yokohoma. There were more people filling the tables than usual, standing only to swing their partners around on the dancefloor. A woman sung sultrily to the crowd, a song that you hadn’t heard in ages. Even for a Saturday, it was crowded, the capacity met, and then surpassed, packed to the brim as a group of foreign billionaires weaseled their way in by paying twice the entry fee.
You swirled your glass, sitting alone at the bar with your legs crossed, the tight, red dress rising up on your thighs. Beside you, a man was puffing a cigar, blowing the smoke back in your face so frequently that it took all your effort not to cough. Still, he paid you little attention, too enraptured by a skinny young woman that giggled every time he touched her arm.
A few more individuals made their way to the dancefloor, tracking unaccompanied dancers like prey, hopeful that they could score a partner for the evening. It was amusing, really, how often you’d seen some of the same men come back. They’d throw stacks of money on the table in a desperation to acquaint themselves with beautiful, upper-class women, even if they’d go home unhappy and broke.
Ice clinked against the sides of your glass as the last drop disappeared down your throat, warming you up for the rest of the evening. Already, you had caught the glimpse of several men in the club. But those who knew who you were knew to keep their distance, and they never tried to sneak more than a subtle glance in your direction.
Those who didn’t usually noticed nothing but your striking beauty and the allure of darkness that seemed to follow you. They were drawn to you easily, smiling at you like they were entitled to gawk at your appearance, like it would be criminal for anyone so beautiful to shield herself away from the world.
Rarely did that ever end well for them.
You handed your empty glass off to the bartender—a dear friend that you’d convinced to work for you at the club—and made your way over to the dance floor. The crowd parted for you with quick glances and slackened jaws, stumbling on their own feet to get out of your way. Once you passed, the world seemed to resume itself. Everyone continued about their business, averted their gaze, even if they were careful not to get too close to you.
Something about that made you smile.
For a while, you danced on your own, grinning carelessly to yourself as you twisted your hips, unbound yourself to the music and the alcohol that ran through your veins. It was a different kind of freedom, and though you’d once been wary of the watchful eyes, they no longer bothered you. You loved losing yourself in the rhythm, loved feeling transported to another realm.
The setlist for the evening included a few of your favorites, and you carried on until there was sweat on your forehead, a single bead trickling down your temple, one that you hastily wiped off. Breaths came to you more stiflingly, heaving inhales and exhales that paired with your thirst.
Finally, the tempo of the music slowed, just enough to snap you back into the present, and the energy zapped out of you as your mood darkened. The time of the evening had passed when you realized that it was no longer fun to dance alone.
You sighed, and with a frown, let your gaze trail across the room to find the cool brown eyes that you loved more than the music you spun in circles to. But Dazai was already in a conversation with someone else, tapping slender fingers against his glass full of amber liquid. He listened intently to a conversation between two men twice his age.
Beside him, Chuuya stood at the edge of the table like a loyal bloodhound, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. You caught his eye instead and smiled to him, though not a single muscle in his face twitched. It seemed as though he was intent on keeping up the charade for the evening.
As much as you wanted to smile even more sweetly and taunt him mercilessly, you didn’t let yourself get too distracted. Instead, you refocused your sights on your other goal.
The stocky, tall man was right where Dazai said he’d be, sitting with a couple woman and a few empty glasses in front of him. He had a neatly trimmed, graying beard, sporting a watch that was, at least, a couple million yen.
You caught him watching you over the edge of the table, his smile slow as you bat your eyelashes at him, sauntering past him with a perfectly coy expression. Eyes lingered on the curves of your hips; the smooth skin of your legs revealed by the dress. The lust came in near waves off of him, thick and heavy as they reached you.
It made your job easier, the obvious attraction that they never tried to hide from you. You smiled to yourself, and felt a sense of satisfaction, despite his disgraceful leering.
The seats at the bar had been filled up when you returned, leaving no room for you and your new companion to retreat.
A younger regular, one with an overabundance of nerves and an awkward smile, spoke in hushed whispers to his friend, one that was dressed in a suit far too cheap to be in this club.
You tapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him in the way that had everyone bending over backwards for you. “Excuse me?”
He looked over, irritated for a fleeting second before realizing who it was that had approached him. Immediately, he was to his feet, stammering over a greeting while his friend gawked at him with incredulity.
“Sorry to bother you,” you said, softening your voice. “I was wondering if I could have those seats. I hate to—”
“No, no,” he said, practically shoving the other man away, pushing him out of the chair while he sputtered confused nonsense. “Take them! We’ll be out of your hair.”
You thanked them before placing yourself neatly back onto the stool you’d occupied before. It was far too easy.
The bartender sent you a knowing look, all too familiar with your games, before going back to mixing a drink.
Moments later, you felt the presence of another behind you, an overwhelming smell of tobacco and pine assaulting your senses. He was taller up close, taller than Dazai, at least, and older than you’d originally thought. Deep wrinkles weathered his skin, his eyes, and though there was still a hint of black in his dark hair, it was slowly being overtaken by the signs of a life that was twice as long as yours.
“Pretty dress.” That was the first thing he said to you, letting his eyes wander over your chest, lips curling into an ugly smirk. “It suits you nicely.”
You wouldn’t be won over so easily, so you merely smiled at him, nodding in thanks. Though, that had him coming on twice as strong, as if the simple eye contact that you’d made earlier had been a full invitation to fuck you. He took the seat next to you, signaling the bartender over.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, and though it was a kind proposition, it always made you laugh. You received a million free drinks from strangers here.
Still, you shrugged and let him, unsurprised that he knew what you’d been drinking earlier. It was a clear sign that he’d been watching you since before you even got up to dance.
“What’s your name?” 
“Should I give it away that easily?” Your voice was silky in your response, unimpressed, but luring him in, nonetheless.
He laughed, and offered you his own instead, Tanaka, as if you didn’t already know it. You’d been planning on springing him into this trap since the moment he’d arrived that evening. It was a target and a plan that had been set in motion for days.
His grin was uncomfortable, but he thought so highly of the way his lips curled, seemingly luring you in.
In reality, you weren’t sure how any woman could stand to get down on her knees for that.
Half an hour passed as you talked with him, preening under his endless string of compliments, wishing that you could string him on for a little bit longer. You enjoyed the words well enough, just another thing to stroke your ego, but the minute he moved closer, you inched away, placing distance between you before he could touch you.
It was obvious it frustrated him, but one look at the flash in his irises had you knowing that he enjoyed the chase.
He droned on, careless conversation about hobbies you didn’t want to understand, and though you smiled, pretending to be interested, your focus drifted to the table where Dazai sat.
His conversation had shifted to Chuuya, the two other men from earlier gone. It seemed strained between them, sharp words spoken as they glared at one another, visibly at odds about something.
Despite the clear dispute, anger cleared away from their expressions within seconds, Chuuya straightening like a board beside his boss once again.
Dazai looked up; it was less than a second that your eyes met, but your knees had weakened, heart stuttering in your chest as it skipped a pulse.
A soft exhale left you, and you longed for Dazai, craved the feeling of his strong palm on your skin, the kiss of his lips on your neck. You had half a mind to say fuck the mission and walk right over to the table and plant yourself on his lap.
It would certainly cause a scene, especially when there were so many new customers there who knew about Dazai but didn’t know about you.
Still, you knew Dazai wouldn’t object. He’d merely smile into your hair and curl his hand around your hip, continuing on with his conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.
You looked away. If you were to make it through the rest of the night, you couldn’t get distracted by the beautiful man just feet away from you. “Sorry,” you said, turning back to Tanaka. “What were you saying?”
His interest in conversation had already waned, and he faced Dazai, displeased by the uptick of fascination within your expression. “Found someone more interesting already?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you pressed your palms into your thighs. You may have longed for Dazai, been so desperate that you couldn’t spare him another glimpse, but you could still play this role well. There couldn’t be another slip, every move had to be precise.
“I’m just curious,” you said, puckering your lips in a pout. “He looks important.”
Tanaka took a sip of his drink as you spoke, nearly spitting it back out when your sentence concluded. His eyes were hard, narrowing at the sight of Dazai just meters away, surrounded by a security of sorts, “You don’t know him?” He coughed.
You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”
“That’s Dazai Osamu. He owns this place.”
There was room for a theatrical pause. You took that moment to pretend to think. “Oh, of course. What a silly question,” you said, humming, and set your chin down on your hand to glance back over at the table of Port Mafia personnel. “I hear he owns a lot of things.” You tilted your head, gauging the man with siren eyes. “Is that true?”
Tanaka huffed, but he didn’t deny it, looking down at his two-million-yen watch like it was nothing more than a trinket. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t worry about him.” He seemed irritated, though he didn’t let it show, his voice the only indicator that you had upset him. “But I can tell you it sure gets hard to run a business in Yokohama when the Port Mafia owns half the city.”
You widened your eyes, leaning forward. “You’re telling me the Port Mafia owns this place?”
Tanaka laughed, loud and haughty, looking at you like you were just a poor idiot from the countryside, even if the dress you wore cost just as much as his entire suit put together. “Oh, hon, if only you knew.”
The condescending tone sent a screech through your entire body, momentarily halting any proper responses in your current act. But he was unfazed, already moving onto the next topic of conversation, telling you all about the business dealings that you’d known about from the long list of jobs within his file.
There was, truly, nothing about him that you hadn’t already dug up. It was boring you immensely, but you smiled on, nodding enthusiastically as he spun the most lackluster story you’d ever heard.
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Dazai, across the room, stared at you as you conversed, clenching his jaw at the way the man eyed you, the gaze that scoured your body like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.
Oh, he would certainly enjoy tearing him apart later, even if he would be too easy of a case to break.  
“When are we leaving?”
Chuuya’s voice snapped him out of his onlooking, and Dazai leaned back in the chair, shedding the tension in his shoulders to resume a comfortable position.
“Not until they’re both in the car and I can confirm with Tachihara and Gin that she’s safe,” Dazai said, crossing his arms over the table. He couldn’t forget that there were others around him, those who would never say a word to him, but knew who he was, knew what he stood for. Even here, he couldn’t let his guard down.
“Safe?” Chuuya laughed, though it was without any humor. His irises flashed dangerously, steely grey darkening into a deep silver. “You trust that idiot not to lay a hand on her? He’s undressing her with his eyes.”
Chuuya seemed intent on irritating him that evening, as usual.
“I don’t trust anyone who comes here.” Dazai scowled. “Don’t be a fool.”
A moment of silence lapsed between them, and Dazai became sickened by the way the man was eyeing you. Though you took it all in stride, leaning just far enough away so his knee didn’t graze yours, and his palm didn’t brush against your own, it still lit a fire deep within him.
It was all the better, he supposed, to feel such deep hatred for his enemies. It made it easier to tear them apart without any guilt. 
“How long are you going to make her do this, huh?” Chuuya spoke up once more from beside him, his voice nothing more than a grumble as he whispered down to Dazai. “This charade you two are carrying on has lasted long enough. I mean, you’re whoring out your wife for fuck’s sake—”
Dazai reacted without a thought, despite not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a second. He gritted his teeth and turned on Chuuya, his hand gripping the gun in his pocket, finger tight on the trigger. Enough of a warning for him to know how sincerely the simple comment irritated him.
“Don’t ever insinuate that I don’t love my wife, Chuuya, or it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” Dazai spat the words out carefully, just under his breath, holding Chuuya’s piercing gaze without blinking. “You may be a valuable asset to the Port Mafia, but I will not listen to your opinions on matters that don’t concern you.”
Chuuya stared, setting his jaw before turning away once more. The two of them looked back to where you were smiling, leading the other man out of the room, though still not touching, placing a respectable distance between you.
“I’m just surprised, Dazai.” Chuuya leaned back, crossing his arms as he titled his head, watching your figure fade into the shadows. “You love her so fiercely, and yet, you watch as this carries on time and time again. I don’t understand.”
Dazai stood from the booth, tucking the gun back into his waistbad, under his coat. He straightened his shoulders, inhaling deeply. “I think you’re underestimating her if you truly believe she doesn’t have a handle on the situation.” His hands slipped into his pockets as Chuuya followed, grumbling from just a few feet away. “Besides, I’ve never forced her into anything. It was her idea in the first place.”
“Why?”
Dazai sighed, though it was almost wistful, the mere thought of you enough to turn him into a lovesick fool. “Perhaps it is because there are many men that seem to think they can crawl into her bed so easily, and she enjoys their humiliation when they realize that they are so far beneath her.” Dazai shrugged, and smiled lightheartedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps, she just wants to make everyone’s lives a little easier, including yours. You should thank her sometime.”
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Tanaka sat beside you in the car, his hand lingering in the leather seat between his thigh and your own. Night had fallen deep across the city, the sky a navy through the haze of streetlights. Though it was nearing one o’clock in the morning, there were crowds of people out and about, lines at all of the much more affordable clubs in the area.
It hadn’t taken much to get him to come with you. You’d batted your eyelashes, smiled at him from under them, and told him you had a car waiting out back.
That was enough. When you’d pulled yourself down from the barstool, he’d followed after you, eyes blown wide as you’d begun leading him out of the room.
All it took was a dress that hugged your curves and a small grin, and he was in the car with a man that worked for you, heading to a building that your husband owned.
“Do you live far?” Tanaka asked, itching to put his hands on you, even though you’d convinced him to hold off until you got back to your room.
You placed your chin on the inside of your palm, glancing out the window at your own reflection. “Not too far.” You turned back to him, offering him a shy smile. “Why? Are you getting impatient?”
He grinned wolfishly. Your stomach churned anxiously at the sight of it, even when he was no match for you, nor all the other, powerful individuals that surrounded you. “I don’t think I need to answer that.”
Through the rearview mirror, Tachihara met your eyes, and they softened, just barely, silently showing his support from the front of the vehicle.
It was, in a way, a relief. You relaxed, regained a sense of composure, and let your ruby red lips spread over your teeth, cocking your head as Tanaka indulged himself in whatever fantasy was milling about in his mind. His eyes were cruel, though the darkness in them was nothing compared to what you were used to.
Idly, he made comments in your ear of all the things he wanted to do to you, his unpleasant breath tickling the skin there as you tried your best not to recoil. The smell of him was growing heavy in the car, overwhelming and nauseating. You sat even more stiffly, pressing Tanaka away with a palm to his chest as you giggled to yourself, pretending to enjoy his vulgar words.
Tachihara pulled the car around to the back of the building, letting the two of you out as he put it into park.
Any fool should’ve known where they were, what the dark building in the middle of the city stood for, but Tanaka was all too focused on you, intoxicated and inattentive. The mafia headquarters loomed overhead, dark, and unassuming, a triad of buildings stacked perfectly against one another.
“Thank you,” you said to Tachihara, winking at him as Tanaka turned his back, too disoriented to take in anything but the sight of you right before him.
The car drove away, then, and you were left to guide your guest into the building, towards the room that you had already planned to meet Dazai in. When you reached the elevator, Gin was waiting for you, dressed in female attire, this time, charading as a worker instead of the trained assassin that she truly was.
“Impressive building,” Tanaka said, as if not noticing all the obvious signs of the mafia base. “You must come from quite a wealthy family.”
You smiled at him over your shoulder, curious as to why he didn’t assume you’d come into the riches on your own. “I suppose you could say that.”
Gin opened the elevator, then began typing a message to her boss, alerting him of your arrival. Tachihara had taken the longest route back, giving Dazai just enough time to arrive home before you.
“Are you a renter?” he asked, staring as the numbers on the elevator increased, climbed higher while you went towards a floor that was only two below the penthouse.
“We own it.”
Tanaka turned towards you, eyes wide with surprise, perplexed even further by the alcohol running through his veins. “You didn’t say—”
Abruptly, he cut himself off. Whatever comment he was about to make was overshadowed by the fact that he’d met you at the Port Mafia’s night club. That was certainly no place for anyone that didn’t have a million yen to spare in their pockets.
Finally, the elevator dinged, and you relaxed at the sight of the familiar hall, the carpet that had recently been replaced, the paintings that you’d personally added, ones that had been purchased at an auction. There were traces of you everywhere, and though it belonged to many members of the mafia, it was, inherently, your home.
You grabbed Tanaka’s hand, realizing just how cold it was, wrinkled with calluses and dirtied nails. It took everything in you not to grimace as you pulled him towards the fourth door on the right, the one that had been used for every interrogation over the past two years.
It had become something of a holding cell for the mafia’s enemies, and most didn’t remain here long. You doubted that this man would be of any exception.
Tugging him along, you increased your speed, an invisible string guiding you right back to Dazai. He was your fiery beacon, and though you were still separated by walls, your heart thumped at being so near to him.
“Eager, are we?” Tanaka asked, and when he grinned in the lights, you realized how slimy it was, a hunger dripping off the edges of his yellowed teeth.
You smiled right back, but it was forceful, painful as it etched its way onto your cheeks. An itch started in the cracks of your palm, willing you to snatch it out of Tanaka’s hand and scrub it clean. Still, you held on, remembering that this was for the Port Mafia, this was for Dazai and everything you’d worked for over the years.Your determination increased tenfold. “It’s just around the corner.”
Finally, you reached the room where you knew Dazai would be waiting, and just like every other time you’d done this, every time you’d brought another willing victim into a den of wolves, you could finally relax.
You entered the room, not bothering to flip on any of the light switches. There was furniture, but it was dusty, bloody, and it would make it far too obvious that you were not leading Tanaka back to your bedroom. You didn’t want him turning tail too quickly, running when he discovered you had no intention of rolling around in the sheets with him.
He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, advancing on you like a hunter. It would’ve been threatening, intimidating perhaps, if you had not been able to sense Dazai on the other side of the wall. You knew that whatever control Tanaka thought he had on the situation had quickly evaporated, and it was only a false blanket of security that he’d wrapped himself up in.
“Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?” you asked, stopping Tanaka with a flat palm to his chest, not allowing him to come any closer. “The alcohol in me is starting to wear off.”
He ignored your wishes entirely, upon you once more. One larger hand ripped yours from his chest, pulling you just another inch closer. “I’ve had enough tonight,” Tanaka said, teeth flashing in the dim starlight. “I’m dying to fuck you.”
You frowned, eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, I’d like a drink first.”
“I’m not in the mood.” He yanked on your hand again, and this time, you knew he’d kiss you, knew he’d plant the cracking pale lips of his own on yours. The thought of it made you ill.
Without thinking, you slung a fist across his face, a crunch sounding from his nose at the force of your hit. Blood trickled from one nostril, flowing in a fast stream over his lips, into his teeth.
He bent over, and you stood, straighter, staring over him as he cursed. The punch had been much more forceful than you’d intended.
“What the fuck.” He was angrier than before, and though his pain was immense, it did little to dissuade him. You kept your face hard, inching backwards as he stood tall, so much bigger than you’d remembered. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift you, throw you onto any surface he wanted.
You’d use your ability if you had to, kill the man if it was necessary, but that would mean the entire plan had gone to waste.
“You bitch—”
Without letting any fear cloud your face, you took a step back and bumped into something solid and warm. A cologne more familiar than Tanaka’s enveloped you in a safety net. 
The older man made it one step further, aggressively, before every ounce of determination waned from his eyes. He staggered, tripping over himself and stared back at the man that had slowly come up behind you. The one that was brushing soft fingertips between your shoulder blades, his steady breath tickling the crown of your head.
Dazai smiled, in a way that was so menacing that your heart thumped twice in its chest before resuming its natural melody. Tanaka took a step back, scrambling away, nearly tripping over himself in the process, eyes dilated in fear.
“You,” he breathed. “Dazai—” Tanaka didn’t finish his sentence, too stunned as he stared between the two of you. “What’s going on?”
Dazai stepped forward, letting his hands fall away from you as he cornered the newest addition to his long list of enemies. Already, you missed the warmth of Dazai’s touch, the security that came with his proximity.
Tanaka cowered before him, suddenly so small, weak under the breadth of Dazai’s power. A sense of twisted satisfaction curled within you, lightning up every pore under your cold skin.
“I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Dazai said, and his tone was even, hard, not a hint of amusement laced within the words. Tanaka’s eyes darted to you, where you stood with your arms loose at your sides, eyes softer, every inch of you more delicate now that Dazai was in the room. 
“Wife—” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it, hesitant. “You said you didn’t know him. You asked me questions about him.”
You slid the ring back onto your finger, the one that you’d kept tucked away in the pocket of your bag. It glimmered in the beams of the moon, the diamond and rubies sparkling. “I can lie just as easily as a man can.” Crossing your arms, you sighed, and stared at Dazai’s taut back, the strained muscles in his shoulders as he stood over Tanaka. “You’re all so stupid sometimes. It only takes a simple question, and you never ask it. Anyone in that club could’ve told you who I am.”
He balked, considering his own ignorance, and followed your eyes back to Dazai, who had gone just a few steps behind you, to the small storage of top-shelf alcohol that you kept locked up in the room. “What is this about?” he asked, shaking his head to clear away his distress. “You’ve obviously brought me here for a reason. What is it?”
“I find it funny that you think you’re the one in control of the situation,” Dazai said, turning his back to fix himself a drink. He didn’t doubt that you would watch Tanaka for him with careful eyes. Even the smallest twitch of his eyebrows would be telling. “You don’t get to ask questions.”
“I haven’t done anything,” he said, and though his voice was hard, there was underlying panic. “I’ve stayed well out of the Mafia’s business, as promised—”
“Perhaps.” Dazai interrupted smoothly, coolly. “Our agreement wasn’t broken, per se. I just happen to think that working with outsiders is an act of much higher treason.”
Tanaka blinked, faltering. His jaw went slack, a mere second ticking before he replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t try to lie to me.” Dazai glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about Dostoevsky. The rats that are trying to take over my city.” He tsked, rolling the glass around on the counter, clinking it against the granite. Then, he popped a crystal bottle open, letting it fill a quarter of the glass.  “Such a shame. You’ve built quite a name for yourself in Yokohama. Is this really worth losing all that?”
Tanaka stuck both hands in his pocket, shaking his head vigorously. His fingers flexed against his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who that is, I’ve never crossed anyone by that name.”
Seeing an opportunity while Dazai’s back was turned, Tanaka began to pull out a pistol from his coat; one you had, stupidly, forgotten to check for. It seemed he doubted that you were a threat, and if he could just kill Dazai, you’d be an easy target.
You moved without thinking, making the single-step distance between you and Dazai. There was a gun relaxed at his waistband, and you stole it, knowing exactly where he kept it hidden. Before Tanaka could point his own at the head of your lover, you’d acted first, aiming Dazai’s gun, your jaw tense and back straight. “Put it down.”
Tanaka, caught off guard, locked his jaw, and his fingers twisted tighter around the handle of the gun, inching towards the trigger. For a moment, he contemplated, but even without knowing the thoughts in his mind, you could read his actions.
You wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do as he wanted. Instead, you fired your own gun, digging the bullet into his fingers, shattering them, blood spattering as Tanaka dropped the pistol to the floor in a ghoulish scream.
For a second more, he writhed in pain at your own hand, once again. You held your arm taut, before letting the gun drop to your side as Dazai hummed behind you. Tanaka had fallen to his knees, tears welling up, his vision glossy as he dropped the maimed hand to his thighs.
Dazai came up beside you, smiling at you, and brushed his fingers down your arm. Slowly, he took the gun, placing it back into his waistband, his touch electric on every centimeter of your skin. “You’ve handled it beautifully, my love.” Dazai squeezed your hand, tilting his head so dark hair cleared away from his eyes. “I can take it from here.”
You nodded, and though Dazai was, by no means, pushing you out of the room, he could see how exhausted you’d become by the whole ordeal. If you wanted to leave—and you did—he wouldn’t object.
“Will you be long?” you asked, just a whisper over Tanaka’s heavy breaths of pain.
Dazai laughed easily, his breath ghosting the bridge of your nose. “Akutagawa will be here soon.” A touch lingered on your hands for a minute longer before he pulled away completely. “Then, I’m yours for the rest of the night.”
It was already late, but you’d take whatever time you could get with Dazai, even if you were drained. You nodded, and he turned away, going back towards his enemy, pulling Tanaka up roughly by his collar. Dazai’s expression changed into a man you almost didn’t recognize, if it hadn’t been for the moments that you’d had to see him shift into the underworld’s fearsome demon.
You left the room, yawning, Dazai’s voice the last thing you heard before you shut the door silently.
“Now that you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps you’ll be more willing to tell me everything you know,” he said.
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Despite Dazai promising to leave once Akutagawa arrived, he’d been gone for nearly two hours, with no indication that he’d be returning anytime soon.
You waited for him in the penthouse of the Port Mafia headquarters, the home you’d come to know well in the past few years. A glass of imported wine was beside you on the nightstand, resting between a book you’d been too tired to read before bed.
You sat up, unable to fall asleep, and chewed your lip thoughtfully. It seemed ridiculous, really, for you to already miss a man that you woke up next to and fell asleep beside every night.
Still, you couldn’t help the desperation in your chest, the need to see him, to brush the mask of the Port Mafia boss away so Osamu could take his place.  
You finished the wine, then headed towards the door. The room felt cold and lonely, and if Dazai wasn’t going to return soon, you’d just find someone else to bother on the lower levels of the building.
Though, just as you were about to slip on a pair of shoes, the door unlocked, swung on its hinges, and Dazai stepped through the threshold, a vision of gore and violence and every ounce the man you adored.
“Osamu,” you said, and even when you’d said his name a thousand times before, it still left your lips like a prayer. A smile formed, and you dropped your shoes, eyes sparkling, as you regarded the mess that he was in.
Dazai took one look at you and relaxed, shoulders falling as you closed the distance between the two of you. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he said, craning his taller frame down to kiss you.
You gripped the lapels of his coat, holding on tight as you pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Dazai’s bloody fingers cupped your cheeks, smearing red along your jaw, ruining your clean skin. Though, as you exhaled a sigh deep into his mouth, you couldn’t have cared less.
“I thought you said Akutagawa was going to take care of it?” you asked as Dazai released you, offering you a small, almost defeated smile.
He walked past you, towards the bathroom, feet dragging as he shrugged off his dark coat. Under the crisp top, his muscles were stiff, strained from all the stress. He wiped another hand over his face, doing little to clean up the mess of red that remained on his cheeks.
You followed him, trailing a few feet behind, feeling silly for wanting to cling to him so tightly. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of him, and you watched as Dazai remained silent, pausing in front of the mirror to regard his own appearance. He made a face in the glass as he gazed back into his own expression, sticking his hands under the faucet. The water ran in a steady stream, staining the sink a rose color as he scrubbed the blood from his fingers, his nails. There were parts of his bandages that had been soiled, and he ripped them right off, exposing pale wrists that hadn’t seen the sun in ages.
You mimicked his action, washing your hands in the second sink before scrubbing the blood from your face, clearing away the smear of maroon that he’d put there. The water shut off, briefly, and Dazai regarded you, frowning as you rid the evidence of his crime from yourself.
“I sent Akutagawa home.” Dazai finally answered your previous question and sighed, frustration evident. He stretched his hands over his head, the bones popping in one fell swoop. “Tanaka cracked right open; he really didn’t know anything.” He blinked at himself in the mirror once more, tidied his hair, then scowled. “He’s just a low man on the totem pole, and he paid for it with his life.”
Dazai seemed at odds with himself, and he drummed his nails against the countertop before patting his hands dry. The blood had been cleaned from his skin, and even though his hair was still unkempt, it was the only evidence that any wrongdoing had happened at all. Nothing but a speck of blood remained on his collar, the rest garnishing his coat instead.
You shifted, leaning against the counter. “Did you get anything out of him?”
“Names, a location.” Dazai clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. “He wasn’t lying, but who knows if they’re real or not. He could’ve been given fake locations. I’ve asked Ango to check on it.”
Dazai, once again, left you standing, contemplative, in the bathroom. You could hear him shuffle around in the other room; he released a small sound of relief as he stretched out his sore muscles.
When he’d finished moving around, you returned to the other room, and he was settled in the red armchair, legs spread out in front of him. Dazai rested his head against the back cushion, his eyes closed in serenity, a deep exhale expelling the tightness in his body.
It was almost a sight too serene to spoil.
“Do you want some space?” you asked, and though you’d always respect his wishes, that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You wanted to consume him completely, to press yourself against every crevice of his being and swallow him whole.
Dazai opened his eyes and blinked at you. Instead of replying, he smiled, slowly, and gestured to his thighs, sparing a glance at his knees.
Your heart pounded, launching its way up your throat, and you scrambled over yourself to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, the muscle strong beneath you.
Gently, he smiled at you, and brushed your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, and slowly, you removed the bandage from his eye, hating whenever he tried to hide any part of himself from you.
You waited for him to protest, but he relented, and let you kiss his forehead, the very darkest parts of himself on display for you alone. It was hard not to collapse under the weight of your love for him.
You discarded the bandages, tossing them onto the table as Dazai tapped a pattern in the crevices of your skin.
For a moment, neither of you said a word. You noted every feature of his that you loved so dearly, and Dazai just watched you study him, tried hard not to smile against your lips when you kissed him.
If only he could see how beautiful he was, surely, he would understand that he deserved a life so much better than the one he’d been dealt. That someone with a smile brighter than a dying star shouldn’t have it taken away by years of endless anguish.
Finally, Dazai spoke, whispering your name in a tone he never used on any word but that one. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”
“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head, so distracted by the endless galaxy within his eyes.
Dazai huffed, placing a possessive hand on your hip. His thumb grazed the bone and you shivered, smiling at him in confusion.
“Sweetheart, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re obligated to do something just because you’re my wife.” He looked past you, an uncertainty beneath his words that he was ashamed of. “If you don’t want to take on any more assignments—"
“I told you already, Osamu,” you began, brushing the hair at the back of his neck that was hidden beneath the collar. “I don’t mind.”
“I know, but—” Dazai hesitated, his gaze steady on the doors behind you, the ones that led to your bedroom. Somehow, he seemed to think all the answers would be there, a script written out for him to recite to you. “Chuuya brought it up to me earlier. He said that I’m…” Dazai swallowed the words, shaking his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to promise me that you know if you want to stop, you can stop. Even if you wanted to quit the Port Mafia altogether, I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
You smiled, kissing the wrinkle between his eyebrows in the hope that it would ease the anxiety in his expression. The tension was such an unusual thing for anyone but you to see, as Dazai had such trouble revealing his vulnerabilities to the world.
“I promise.” You swept your thumb over his lip, watching as it bounced right back into place, so soft and lovely. “I just don’t want to quit.” You leaned back on his lap, so you were able to see the entirety of his face.  
Dazai’s eyebrows drew together once more, putting that worry right back on his appearance, and a part of you hated that of all the things he had to be stressed about, it was something as silly as you not wanting to quit your job.
“Why?” Dazai asked, tilting his chin, searching the depths of your soul for an answer that would appease him. “I don’t understand. You hate them; you tell me you hate them every time they try and lay a finger on you.”
He wasn’t wrong, certainly not about something like that. You loathed that men looked at you like you were something that they could just steal away, like they were entitled to the subtle way that they brushed your hip in passing, caressed your back when they walked behind you.
You just didn’t hate everything about the work you’d been doing. After all, it was your idea.
“I just don’t want to,” you said, looking over his shoulder to the open curtains, the bright expanse of Yokohama laid out before you. Twinkling star lights from skyscrapers and the port in the distance. “It doesn’t matter.”
It was your home, your city, and it always would be. You wouldn’t let Dazai die, wouldn’t let anyone take him from you—including himself. You’d continue to do whatever it took to protect that. Whether or not you used your appearance to achieve those ends didn’t matter. When it was all said and done, Dazai’s enemies would be dead, and you’d still have him to come home to.
“It matters to me.”
You shook your head, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. There were a million different ways you could’ve explained it, but none that were intelligent. “It’s embarrassing, ‘samu.”
Dazai laughed, a genuine noise, and kissed your shoulder as you sighed, relaxing into him once more. “I can’t think of anything about you that could possibly be embarrassing.”
You held his gaze, wishing for him to relent, to just give up and let you have this one. Instead, he just smiled back patiently, hoping you’d reveal another part of yourself to him as he slowly traced your hard collarbone.
Those pools behind his eyes were too distracting, the thumb on your neck dangerously close to your throbbing pulse. You swallowed, letting him feel every movement as your throat bobbed up and down.
“I guess,” you said shyly, “I like it. I like leading on your enemies, letting them think that they could possibly have a chance with someone like me. I like the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been made a fool of, that the girl who they wanted so badly belongs so completely to the boss of the Port Mafia.”
Dazai studied you for a moment as you shrugged the revelation off, his deep brown eyes darting over every crevice of your face. “You want to make them jealous of me?”
“Maybe.” Your cheeks heated, and though you’d been together for years, loved him for even longer, you still shied under the weight of your own desire for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want them all to know that I’m as much the boss of the Port Mafia as you.” You wound your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him, the only person you’d ever need in the dangerous world. “They’re blind to their desire, and they refuse to see that I have complete control over them.” You smiled, lazily, fondly. “Don’t they know that this is my city, too?”
Dazai’s strength made an appearance then, and he gripped your cheeks, holding you with a spiraled mix of possession and affection. “It is,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own, “and I’d burn it all down before I let anyone take it from you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his deepened tone, the seriousness that drew on his normally playful inflection. You grew hot, and a twist of desire started deep within you, spreading down easily, slowly turning your thoughts into a muddled mess.
“I know,” you said, trying to keep your words steady as Dazai drew lazy circles up and down your sides. “Everyone knows.” You met his eyes, soft, yet dark, clouded with a longing you weren’t unfamiliar to. “The woman who brought them to their knees is still nothing more than a simple fool for Osamu Dazai.” You inhaled drawing your fingers to his open collar, the crisp bandages around his chest. “What could they ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?”
Dazai waited, watched your smaller hand run across his neck, his smirk slowly growing on his lips. “I’m a lucky man, indeed,” he said, drawing the words out slow and lazily. He tipped your chin down to him, his smile displaying the almost sharpened points of his canines. Slender fingers caressed your hipbone, pressing you farther down onto his thigh.
You let out a small sound, not taking your eyes off of his as his expression grew wily, and the slip you wore slowly began to rise up your thighs, exposing the softer skin of your leg.
“I admit, I can’t stand that everyone in this city wants you so fucking bad.” Dazai sunk his lips to your neck, kissing the space between your shoulder and jaw. “But I can’t blame them. My beautiful angel.” He smiled under your jaw, gripping your hips harder, forcing you to drag against his thigh. A puff of air left your throat as Dazai grinned, spiking your arousal. “It’s for the best, isn’t it? I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”
Your eyes flashed; Dazai bounched his leg, just once, his eyes shining, every move calculated. He’d always known exactly how to touch you, and he’d never forget, never stop enjoying the way you jerked so easily under his palm, the way you were already trying to rub yourself against him.
“Osamu,” you began, desperate for just a moment of friction, to feel his rigid muscle drag against your cunt. You wanted him so badly that your heart stumbled over itself, all the love you held, locked up there and looking for a way out.
He made a sound of disapproval, holding you still with a tight grip on your hips. His fingers dug into the bone, but it did little to ease your aching need for him.
“See?” Dazai’s kisses were light as he whispered against the shell of your ear, the sound nothing more than a breath of air. “I barely have to touch you and you’re a whimpering mess.”
You swallowed, tugging at the hair at the base of his scalp, trying to remain steady, if only for him to give you what you wanted.
Dazai seemed to be in a generous mood, worn from the previous mission, and he was grinning lazily, two fingers slipping under your dress.
His grip loosened, and you shifted, letting him pull on the strap of your panties, drag them down your thighs, over your knees, to discard beside the chair. Already, there was evidence of your desire, a spot of wetness obvious against the red satin.
He let the garment hang between his fingers before he looked back at you, watching as it softly fell to the floor. “If only they knew how easy it was to get you wet,” he said, shrewdly, “they’d want you twice as much as they did before.”
You let out a soft whimper, trying to direct his beautiful hands back between your thighs. Though, Dazai kept his fingers away, and in an act of desperation, you pressed your forehead to his, conveying every ounce of your affection for him.
“Osamu,” you breathed, blinking into his warm irises, a shade of brown that had easily become your favorite. “I’m so crazy about you.” You kissed his cheeks, smearing your lip gloss all over the skin he’d just wiped clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Everyone in Yokohama watches me, but I ache for you.”
His eyes flashed, pleased, and he relented, nudging his thumb to the inner most part of your thigh. The smile was still mocking, but he gave you at least some relief; Dazai let you sink back down on his thigh, the pressure just enough to have you clawing your nails into his chest.
He kissed your nose, but kept you where you were, perched on the middle of his leg and much too far from his cock. “What would you ever do if I wasn’t here to take care of you, hm, darling?"
You softened; even if his gaze was taunting, there was utter devotion between his dilated pupils.
All those men who fell for your act may have been complete fools, but Dazai was even worse off than them: he was a fool in love.
“It’s so hard not to crawl into your arms every time you’re around,” you admitted, grabbing the buckle of his belt to undo it with a clank. The mere sound, the feel of the leather between your fingers, nearly had you salivating. “I’m stronger than a lot of men in Yokohama.” Your features contorted then, eyes vulnerable as you looked up at him through delicate lashes, no longer a vision of authority, but of someone who desperately wanted to be taken care of. “Not you, though.”
Dazai’s grip on you relaxed, and something in his eyes shifted, lips parting as an exhale left them. He said nothing as you removed the belt, and instead, let himself sink deeper into the cushion, bearing your weight.
Hastily, you pulled down the zipper of his slacks. The weight of his heavy cock in your hands was so familiar. You stroked him gently, watching for any reaction, and while his face remained steady, you could sense the change in his heartbeat.
“I don’t need you to be strong around me,” Dazai said. His voice had deepened, your name leaving his lips, raspy by the end of his sentence. “You can fall apart if you want to, my love.” His erection grew slowly in your palm, and he brought you closer, your bare, soaked cunt dragging against his thigh. “I’ll always be here to put you back together.”
You smiled, flushing as he hardened, his breath growing uneven. When you had him leaking within your palm, you shifted forward on your knees, grinning at his reddened cheeks. Dazai’s eyes drifted towards your chest, just inches from his face.  
Uncertain, you hesitated, even though you wanted him, needed him with every fiber of your being. It was an unfamiliar position. He could take control of the situation at any moment, but you weren’t usually the one looming over him.
“Osamu—”
“What?” he released with a sigh, and in one swift motion, lifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. “You walk around my nightclub in those dresses I buy you, force those pretty tits into other men’s faces, but now you’re too shy to fuck your husband?”
You made a face, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and if only to prove a point, you sunk down on him, your folds slick. Dazai slid into you easily, a sinful noise breaking the silence between you as he grinned. “I’ll f-fuck you,” you stuttered, swallowing under the heat of his watchful eyes. “It’s just…” Your words failed again as his cock went deeper in you, your focus entirely on your own pleasure.
“Just what?” He stopped you for a moment, planting you on his thighs, his cock still straining, filling you. Glaring, vibrating with need, you opened your eyes, lips parting as he whispered against your mouth “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”  
“It’s not my fault, Osamu,” you said, on the edge of a whine, squirming within his hold. “I can’t help that they stare.”
He laughed, then, and it was just a brush against your swollen mouth, the one he kept coming back to. “They can stare all they want,” Dazai said, tilting your chin up. “As long as they know who you belong to.”
Finally, he let you go, his hands tracing the edges of your knees, and you started a slow, steady pace, gasping as you held onto his neck tightly. He bowed his head into your collarbone, and kissed you once, before leaning back lazily, watching you take and take and take.
“Doing so good, angel,” he said, watching you with such a passion that it was distracting, as he let his palms rest simply on your thighs. “You always look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?”
“Feels so good,” you muttered.
“I know.” Dazai seemed too devilish with his dark hair fanned out against the red chair, grinning in a way that twisted up your insides, sweat beading down your forehead as you tried to reach your orgasm.
You were hot with his piercing gaze upon you, but he didn’t bother to move his hands, did nothing to even pretend like he was fazed. You sunk down faster, heart racing, as the muscles of your hips strained, burned. Already, you were growing tired, sleepy from a full evening, but still so desperate to come around him.
You leaned forward, trying to angle your body, gain some relief from the position. Though it did little, and instead you were left sighing in frustration, wishing that he would do anything, instead of just look at you with a lust blown smile.
With every moment, the pain began to grow, the ache in your legs far too much to give way to pleasure. You started back at Dazai, frustrated, eyes glossy with need.
Dazai laughed at you then; it wasn’t quite mocking, but it wasn’t kind either. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”
Frustrated and impatient as you dripped down your own thighs, you grabbed his throat, thrusting his head into the back of the chair.
Dazai, eyes wide with surprise, stopped smiling as you curled your hand around his neck, his fingers digging into your thighs.
“Are you just going to sit there, Osamu?” you said, your words high-pitched and desperate. “Or are you going to—”
The end of your sentence was cut off by him gripping the back of your hair, smashing your lips into his own. The hand on his neck fell away, drifting to the lapels of his bloodstained collar, as he brought you down hard on his cock, hitting a place deep inside you that you hadn’t been able to reach with your own strength.
Dazai’s fingertips left bruises on your skin as he devoured the inside of your mouth, bringing you down over and over, stretching your walls with each movement.
“So pretty and desperate for me,” Dazai laughed, but he was breathless, his own tenacity crumbling from adoration. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you, baby?” His kisses were sloppy as he dragged them across your neck, tongue grazing the sharp vein under your ear.
“No, but you said—” you were losing your breath and your words. “You said you’d take care of me. I don’t want to cum all on my own, ‘samu.”
Dazai groaned, his gaze drifting down to the space between your bodies, where you were sucking him back in, your own body aligned with your heart, never wanting to let him go.
“Fuck,” he said, slamming you back down on his thighs, his eyes hazy with love. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” One hand guided your hips as the other curled around your jaw, setting the pace with half his strength. “You’re my whole world.” His words stuttered, aching cock twitching inside you. “I’m nothing without you, understand?”
You nodded, but you weren’t quite thinking straight, the words a jumbled mess when they entered your mind. “I love you,” you said, gasping the end of his name. “I love you, Osamu, need more.”
Dazai breathed, just as heavily, softening as he regarded you. He’d always loved the look on your face as you came apart. “You take it so well,” he said eyelids fluttering over hazy eyes, and he kissed your forehead. You dragged your hands all over his chest, just wanting to touch any part of him. “Wish you could see yourself. You’re so beautiful.”
You groaned, pulling him closer, until there was nowhere left to go, surrounded completely by Dazai; the smell of him, the taste of him. “Say it back,” you muttered, “say you love me too.”
He choked on a laugh, and the lewd sounds of your wet arousal were loud as he came in and out of you. “I love you, angel, you know how much I love you.” Dazai kissed you, then, and your heart sped at how hoarse his voice had become, how easily it was for you to make the most powerful man in Yokohama fall apart at the seams. “You’ve got a pretty ring to prove it, don’t you? I don’t want anyone but you. I never will.”
“Come inside me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as his cock reached impossibly deep within you, stretching you, your legs shaking as you tried to ignore the dull ache within your tense muscles. Tears sprang to your eyes, coating your lashes; it was almost devastating how much you loved him. “Please. Feel so full, ‘samu.”
“Yeah?” He reached between you to play with your clit, and you were so close, crying out a broken moan as he touched you. “Need to remind everyone that you’re my girl, hm?” He knew just how you liked to be touched, how easy it was to get you to come when he fucked you like you needed. “Want me to put a baby in you next, sweetheart? Shit.” He curled his fingers, bruising your mouth as he stole the oxygen from your chest. “Everyone would know then, wouldn’t they? How could they doubt you’re mine when you’re carrying my child.”
You cried out, then, breaking, spasming around his cock as you fell onto his chest. Dazai said your name, kissed the top of your head, but you were too full of love for him. You breathed heavily as he brought you down once more, twitching against him from the ache in your sensitive cunt.
A moment later, Dazai jerked, then came inside you, spilling his warm cum against your folds, the white ropes dripping down your thighs, staining his dark, wrinkled slacks. Slowly, he pulled out of you, letting you rest on his chest as you breathed, your legs sore. A gentle touch ran up and down your spine as Dazai wrapped his arms tight around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.
“God, you’re perfect,” Dazai said, and his voice sounded almost broken, devastatingly emotional. “You can’t ever leave me, okay, angel? I need you right here by my side.” Lips grazed your temple, so sweetly, gently. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t share it with you?”
You smiled, resting your head in the crook of his neck, eyes full of tears as you kissed him. “I’m not going anywhere, Osamu. I promise.”
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OCTOBER MASTERLIST - leave a comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the tag list
tag list: @satohruu (hannah i planned this one bc of your tags on my last pm dazai fic HDSFHSFH) @cha0thicpisces
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cheriiyaya · 3 months
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 uh oh, what do the BSD boys do when they're a little too jealous of the attention you're getting?
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Contents: Fyodor, dazai, and chuuya x Fem!reader (separately), sfw but suggestive (except in fedya's bc he's a "good christian"),they all wanna kill the guy "flirting" w you (fyodor actually kills him lmfao), uh not proofread so excuse any spelling errors, kinda a test run for me writing for fyodor, reader knows Russian in fedya's part, fyodor being kiiinda manipulative, religious themes in fedyas
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 A/N: was this an excuse for me to write them a lil possessive?...yeah it was. anyways this is my first time writing something suggestive so i hope it's good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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Dazai Osamu
Dazai is indeed, a rather selfish man. While he's not so selfish as to be extremely possessive of you, he does get jealous. Most of the time it's petty; small pouts and whines that are easily remedied when you pepper kisses onto his face and spoil him with your attention that he loves so much.
this was not one of those times. Right now, he can't believe what he's seeing:
A client of the detective agency, flirting with you.
Dazai watches in cold silence as the man laughs at something you said The man leans over a little too close for dazai's liking and whispered something in your ear, causing you to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh.
If he was his teen self, dazai would've stuck bullet after bullet in the man's head.
He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes in your direction, trying to pull you attention away from that man and towards him with some unknown pull. But you were too engrossed in conversation to notice, fluttering pretty lashes with every blink of your eyes and tilting your head in that endearing way as the man was telling you something..
There was a sensible part in dazai's mind that told him that you weren't reciprocating the man's advances, saying that it wasn't that big of a deal, but he couldn't ignore the curl and twist in is stomach and heart watching you and this man.
Then after a minute or two he just couldn't take it.
He gets up from his desk abruptly, ignoring the few pens and papers that fell off his desk as he strides behind you. He plants his chin on the crown of your head, cocking a lopsided smile that read more like a hidden threat towards the man.
"Bella'! Ah, socializing I see, aren't we?" He runs his bandaged hands down your arms, squeezing the squishy flesh on your upper forearm. His eyes were trained on the client, who was now blinking, looking at you then at dazai for a few time before realizing his error. The man scrambles up, chuckling awkwardly before walking away, and from the look on his blood-drained face you can tell he'll probably ask another one of the detectives in the agency to help with his case.
Once the man leaves you look up at dazai, a crease forming in between your furrowed eyebrows." Osam-" You were cut off by a sharp kiss, dazai hooking a finger under your chin and drawing you closer to him. Letting out a muffled cry of surprise, you try to pull away, which succeeded doing absolutely nothing. With a breathy shudder dazai digs his nails into your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest and teeth nipping your bottom lip which elicits a soft whine from the back of your throat. He presses his lips onto yours roughly, sucking away the breath in your lungs and only pulling away when he's red in the cheeks and breathless. He pulls away slowly and you draw in a shaky breath through swelling and parted lips, the world around you spinning and your limbs trembling furiously. He runs a thumb over your bottom lip, rubbing it and pressing down onto its soft plush. Dazai draws you close and whispers against your ear, breath brushing against your neck and causing your hair to stand up on end as he speaks;
"My, my bella', seems like you've forgot who's girl you are, hm? Don't worry, I'll make you remember soon enough, juuust wait."
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Nakahara Chuuya
Oh god he was so going to kill mori after this.
The two of you were sent on a mission to collect information from a man, which landed the you two in an expensive bar in the heart of Yokohama.
He's repeating the same few words over and over again in his head like a mantra: "it's only a mission, it's only a mission" as he watches you sit flush besides the target, a young man in his late twenties.
But he felt seething envy curl up like flames in his stomach and sear his thrumming heart.
"No, it's just the alcohol." He mumbles, taking a sip of the expensive wine he had ordered, his thoughts drowning out the noisy chatter of people and music and the bright lights of the bar to an incessant buzz. He wasn't...envious or anything. That's quite stupid you don't even like that man! Yet he just can't help but look at the two of you, the way your pretty lips curled into that sweet smile chuuya loves so much as you placed a hand on the man's arm and giggled bashfully at whatever joke the man had told you.
Probably wasn't even that funny. Chuuya bites down on his tongue, resisting the urge to pull you away from that man as he took a sip of the wine that burned down his throat and settled a warmth in the pit of his stomach.
That warmth that brought drowsiness did not help the flare of envy chuuya felt as the man tugs you onto his lap. The man had one hand just under your ribcage and one in between your shoulder blades, tugging you close to him and whispering against your ear.
Bad idea. A very bad idea indeed.
In a flash chuuya weaved his way through the crowd of patrons-or rather shoved his way through with no regards to anyone-over beside you and glared at the man, eyes piercing holes into the man as he pulled you off his lap.
"Don't ya think you're a little to drunk doll?" He chuckles, but he did a terrible job at hiding the bitterness in his voice. This was so stupid, it would jeopardize the whole mission but chuuya didn't care;
Right now, the only thing on his mind was you and jealousy.
You look up at him, blinking and opening your mouth to protest against your alleged intoxicated state when chuuya pulled your through the crowd of people by the arm and out into the cool night street. Once out, you looked at chuuya with wide eyes and mouth agape from shock.
"Chuuya! What are you doing, you could've ruined the mission!" You scoff, blinking a few times before realizing something from his silence and the stare he's giving you.
"You're jealo-" Your chuckle of disbelief was cut off by his lips meeting yours, chuuya pulling closer to him. He mumbles in between kisses, ranging from short and sweet to hungry and harsh. A gloved thumb dragged from the corner of your mouth to your cheekbone as chuuya pulls away from your lips to leave desperate kisses over your face and jaw. Somehow in the midst your fingers found their place tangled in messy ginger strands and you only realized this fact once he pulls away, leaving you breathless with redden cheeks.
"Ha, can't believe some guy would try to take this sight from me, huh pretty girl? Better keep you by me all times now, can't let some guy think he has a chance with my sweet girl."
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Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor is no jealous man. Envy was one of the seven cardinal sins, and Fyodor was a man of God. Besides, what is there to be jealous of for a man like him?
Until, he feels an unfamiliar feeling stir inside him as he sees you with another man as you waited for Fyodor.
The way your face lights up in that way when you flash a mirthful smile to that man as the two of you chat about some mundane things. The way delicate fingers tuck stray strands of hair from your face and hold them there as you talk to this stranger causes fyodor to feel something that he hadn't felt in a while (or perhaps just blocked out).
You hadn't realized fyodor coming up behind you until you felt him tap you your shoulder.
"Ah, who is this, milaya?" He smiles in that unnerving way, not the soft smile he'd give you after you beg him to take so rest from his work. This smile read more as a threat.
To you or to the man you were speaking to, you couldn't tell.
Fyodor tugs you to his side, quickly telling the man you were waiting for him before he pulls you along with him.
"Who was that? What were you telling him myshka?" He spoke in Russian, the sharp pronunciation vibrating off the walls of your ears.
"mh, just a man, Fedya. Why?" You tilt your head, furrowing your eyebrows. He sighs and smooths his thumb over the crease, offering a smile to ease your troubled expression
"Ah, just worried. Don't talk to strangers, who knows what kind of intentions they may have." Intentions such as distancing you from him. He brings your hand up to his mouth,, gently kissing your knuckles and rubbing soothing circles onto your palm.
No matter, there would be no way anyone would take you away from him. You were his little doll.
The next day, Fyodor offers to stay inside all day saying that he wished to spend time with you.
How naive for you to believe that, instead he kept you in to keep you unaware of the news of the man dead on the banks of a river.
Wrath, another cardinal sin yet there was no sin great enough that Fyodor wouldn't commit to keep you.
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REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!
©Cheriiyaya 2024
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chiliyue-archived · 8 months
Text
physical affection
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includes; dazai, chūya, ranpo, atsushi
tags; these get just slightly suggestive (but its nothing too much).headcanons + some drabbles & shorts. these r longer than it should be - I got so carried away
I just woke up so if u find mistakes pls let me know :) I'm posting this before I come up with an excuse to delete it altogether
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—DAZAI
handsy - that's really the only descriptor you need.
honestly, everyone knows you're his partner with how he acts around you; hand on your thigh, waist, shoulder. having to kindly smack him on the back of his head when his hands trailed a little too far-
^ only for him to send you a pout and doe like eyes that fade when you indulge him a kiss. he has zero shame (often at the expense of receiving a sneer from kunikida who had the misfortune of witnessing sometimes. even then, he didn't stop kissing you)
favorite spot is the inside of your palms and knuckles - with a lingering yield on your pulse point. if you ever kiss those areas on him, he'll have cartoon hearts around him & everything
holding his face though? call him your pretty boy or literally anything sappy and he thinks he might just die on the spot.
on the flip side he's also… a bit of a bitch.
traces your bottom lip tauntingly with his thumb, the other is cupping your head to keep your gaze on him. he maintains keen eye contact and relishes in the way you crack while he remains steady.
his mouth is so close that when he speaks, you could feel it vibrate against your lips. but he never closes the distance, he makes you do that instead for teasing benefits :/(if you're shorter than him, it's so over)
revoke his kissing rights and he trails like a lost puppy behind you. " just one, bella?" he whines when you maneuver your head away. it's cute seeing him get all pouty - not so much when his patience runs thin and he takes matters into his own hands
-> caging you in his physique and kissing you hard. fingers calloused are rubbing against your jaw or brushing past your ear to interlock, teasing the surface of the skin as he does so. he enjoys the tremors and shivers it elicits, such reactions becoming burned in the back of his head.
you could barely make a sound with the vigor he expresses his cravings in with your bottom lip becoming captured between his canines
contrary to his theatrical displays, however, i also believe he exhibits a softened demeanor when cherishing you proper (soft dazai agenda)
the tempo of his kisses are slow yet not in accordance with his teasing. while the meandering of his hands grows greedy, when he speaks his voice is reduced to a low whisper, mumbling sweet phrases with each kiss.
dazai wants to blame the bottom of sake for his vermillion flushed cheeks. more alarmingly, he wanted to ignore the way his heart squeezed when you reciprocated the kiss.
" darling," he pulls away, studying your expression. your hair was tousled, a swell blooming on your bottom lip from his recurrent nibbling and ministrations. the moment wasn't perfect, but he could bask in it for a lifetime. " are you getting sleepy?"
the pretty brown eyes you met were half-lidded and blinking. his bangs traced along your forehead from where he hovered, and if you squint, perhaps you would have noticed how the pink of his cheeks deepened the tiniest bit when you laughed at the tickling sensation.
you murmur something intelligible, the words swallowed by his mouth; he shivers when the syllables reverbate against him and the hand at your hip falters slightly. when he reels back, he remains close enough for his forehead to brush yours.
" repeat that, love."
" i said," you mumble, kissing the corner of his mouth. " can we to stay like this forever?"
almost instantaneously his body shakes in anticipation, heart lurching at the sincerity; how can you be so honest to a known liar like him? he slowly nods, his body arching until your chests were touching and breath pricked at your cheek. ever greedily, he seeks out another exchange, this one careful with a lingering touch of desperation.
an "okay" became lost as he gingerly grabs your chin, angling it just the tiniest bit to deepen it. in between the withdrawals and recoil, dazai chooses to ignore the way his breath stills in the pinnacle of moment, made potent when he twines his hand with yours. he provides the appendage a firm squeeze in coordination with the stirring in his chest, your inhales and exhales becoming synchronized.
he can't lie, he's been thinking just as much.
dazai also likes your hands. chances are his are bigger than yours and he finds himself comparing hand sizes with you. his eyes crinkle when your fingers are dwarfed by his.
adjoined limbs are swayed back and forth when you walk together. same applies with intertwined legs, but when he's not busy doing that, he's playing footsie beneath the table.
he needs to be with you whenever he can!! the spot across your table remains permanently empty as he makes a home of sitting as close as possible next to you instead
he can't even be embarrassed with overly sappy displays, not when he's loving it twice as much. " good morning, osamu," you once said, palms cupping his face. he doesn't know if something has ever made his heartbeat spiked as hard as that did. " can I have a kiss?"
if he didn't turn to putty from the request alone, then it was the way you circled your thumbs on his cheekbones when he brushes his lips to yours. tentatively, he curls his hands behind your waist, holding you close before you get too far.
" can i have some more?" his eyes are shimmering in mischief as ever but his skin has progressively grown warmer since you've found him.
dazai is cuddly. getting to hold you close and listen to your heartbeat? yeah, he could die happy right now
unsurprisingly, napping with him is among his favorite passing time activities.
the closest you may get to see a vulnerable side to him is if you card your fingers through his hair. admittedly, he finds it troubling how his built-up walls crumble so easily with a couple of strokes. but the only thing he can focus on now is the sensation of fingers devoid of pain carefully tend through his hair and how warm his chest feels
kisses on the forehead when you're in need of comfort ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
" i'm right here, love." when you glance up at him with red eyes and puffy cheeks he could feel his heart break right into two. even more so when your voice cracks and he tries to hide the way his face drops when it echoes in the somber ambience.
attentively, he cups your cheeks as his lips apply delicate pressure against your forehead. he sighs when he feels your trembling hands subdue and your breathing regulate; its panning against his skin rivaled any other comfort he could ever receive.
" better?" when you nod, he could feel his grin return, just a bit weaker. " today has been hard on you. get some rest."
" can you stay with me?" he already knew the answer in his head but it still makes chest swarm tremendously.
he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, lips brushing your forehead again. " of course."
he wasn't the one needing comfort and yet he still felt a deep-rooted tingle right in his chest when you hugged him closer than usual. he depised the circumstances behind it, but he couldn't deny the way it made his barren chest feel less akin to a husk when you felt so secured against him.
his hands start to comb shrough your hair, watching as the strands bend between his fingers and he ensures to provide your scalp proper attention now and again.
he wasn't sure if he'll be able to sleep, he was more concerned in making sure you did.
he blinks when you move to press your cheek against his chest, right where his heart should be. " thank you," your words were muffled against clothes, sending vibrations along his bones.
" you don't have to thank me." he places a last kiss to your forehead, the longest one of the night. his legs shift to intertwine with yours, listening keenly to the sound of your breath until it slows into an assuaging rhythm.
dazai can't recall the last time he had to take care of someone. it's made apparent as he grapples with uncertainty - almost becoming overwhelming with how powerless he felt in the situation.
though tonight, he was sure to hold you a little tighter.
likewise if you kiss his scars and the skin beneath the bandages, he could feel the breath in his throat still and his heart do cartwheels. it's been so void of human touch for so long and he appreciates the care you exhibit towards something he considers to be ugly.
" all better now!" you punctuated your words with a kiss to the newly coiled cotton on his arms. dazai could do nothing but swallow hard, his "thank you" mumbled under his breath; he didn't like the pain, but it wasn't so awful when you spoiled him like this ♡
neck kisses + scattering the expanse of your throat with baby bruises you can not hide. afterwards, he traces it out with his index finger while he takes in the markings with great interest.
when it starts to fade he gladly renews them
" that tickles," you murmur, voice reduced to a whisper; you couldn't trust yourself, not with dazai scattering kisses along the exposed patches of your neck. the rehearsal of which doesn't falter, even when you tug on his increasingly unruly curls.
" my apologies, 'bella," you wince as he captures a patch of your skin between his teeth. " i think i've found my favorite form of art." he has the gall to feign a tone of sympathy, lips arcuated at the growing disparity.
in addition to the nibbling, his fingers skimmed along your torso, moving in taunting lines he knew ran your sanity thin. dazai knew all the places that made you shiver, it was a piece of information that became abused with the movement of his hands in that moment.
against your rationality, you sunk into his touch, fingers twitching along his roots. it brought a simper you couldn't see but his satisfaction is made apparent when his actions grow sloppy, scattering along the expanse of your throat and meandering along your collarbone.
" you had every chance to leave," he smirks when you don't reply, content with the way your nails briefly printed on him. predictably, he gives another nibble on your skin, tugging back gently. " this might be my favorite spot."
right on the center of your unguarded throat.
" i can't hide those there."
he laughs, breath cascading skin. " that's what i want, darling." he thinks he might lose himself when you bring a particular tug in his hair, a sound akin to a grunt reverberating against your throat.
" you're being mean." dazai makes the mistake of pulling back, gracing him with your disheveled hair, reddened lips and growing streaks of red. already he finds it to be his favorite piece of jewelry.
" don't look so down," he pressed a kiss to one of the blooming blemishes, grinning as it became more pronounced. " you'll get your turn soon."
-
—CHŪYA
he takes his gloves off when he goes to touch your face. he doesn't want the sensation of skin on skin to be hamper by the piece of article.
kisses to your temples & neck are exchanges he shares on the frequent. though depending on the height difference, it may also be a gesture reserved for when you're sitting on his lap or cuddled up into him. head kisses in particular feel appropriate for anything really
as for himself, i'd say he likes to be kiss on the lips(mainly so he can distract from the growing crimson that tickles his forehead)
but it's hard with the handsome face chūya has. his growing pout tells you he's growing impatient when you favor his cheeks, but the hand gripping your sleeves are so counterproductive
" can you do it properly?" he gruffs, brows furrowing that weaken by your persistence. his skin was growing warm from the kisses you spoiled him with but it hardly compares to the proper thing on his lips, aching for the familar sensation almost painfully.
he shivers when you trail to his mouth, just shy of it and his grip tightens. " like this?"
his eyes flutter shut when you close the distance and before he could realize it, his hands began to sift through your hair. " yeah," his exhale was shaky, voice dropping to a low lilt. " don't stop that."
he sleeps with his head buried in your stomach - his nose is brushing against your abdomen with toned arms slithering around you like a form of cocoon
it reaches a peak when you brush your thumb over his scalp, and you can physically note the way the muscles in his body sink. you can't see his face, greeted instead by a cascade of reds; but his lips pull into a grin at the action
it grants you the opportunity to play with his hair. and sometimes, when he wakes up to find the claw clips and cute brooches that push his bangs aside and show off his pretty eyes, he won't be tempted to remove them right away.
he wanted to roll his eyes when he saw you pull out the collection of hair clips, taunting pastels and neons gawking back at him. but he has to admit, he stopped caring the moment you started to play with his strands of hair. the locks weaved through your fingers, silky and soft stirring a form of ease that compels him to remain still. when he did move, it was only in an effort to bring himself closer, almost like snuggling(though he profusely denies it as such and regards you a scoff that doesn't compliment the rest of his actions).
had he not been treading precariously the boundaries of sleep, he may have been able to pick up on the way his heart quickened; a solace riveting up his spine and leaving in the form of a breathy sigh.
he blinks his eyes at you, nose scrunched up when you start mapping out his handsome features with your thumb. " you're getting distracted."
you acknowledge his statement with a coy grin and chūya felt his heart swell even at its simplicity. "i know." you move to press your lips to his forehead; if the smile wasn't enough to dissipate the frown on his face, that was the drug.
a flash of color peeks in the corner of his eye as you draw another clip. " i was just wondering how you would look in pigtails," you joke and chūya could feel his face twist— eye twitching at your jest.
" you're pushing your luck."
" it won't be that bad, chū."
" i could leave right now." his voice was terribly unconvincing when brooches adorned his head.
" you would have left a long time ago." you grin when he doesn't refute you. " just relax."
chūya knows he's defeated when you thumb his scalp again, eyes screwing shut involuntarily. " you're enjoying this too much," he grumbles. he tilts his head to the side, granting you access to his hair, hands falling pilant against your thigh. it bewilders him how much relief washes over him as you start to pry the strands apart again.
you know he's fallen asleep when he stopped replying to your ramblings; his words going from full sentences, to sporadic words and then slurred vowels. when you peek down, he's resting comfortably on your lap, lips slightly parted and allowing light snores to fill the silence.
chūya is far too deep in his subconscious to contemplate anything, but if he could, he thinks he might just get addicted to this.
a clingy drunk. in addition, the alcohol is effective at loosening his tongue, resulting in declarations of his undying love that are muffled when he goes head first into your stomach (≧▽≦)
in lieu of that, he likes to spoon you, with himself being the big spoon. he has his head in the crook of your shoulder, and you feel his inhales and exhales against your skin.
he likes your body heat, it grounds him to earth and coaxes a soft demeanor that he fails at suppressing
thoughtful when it comes to kissing in the public eye. he isn't fond of drawing that form of attention to your relationship, but he isn't opposed to stealing a couple of kisses now and then.
it's fast, it's simple and enough to satiate you and himself. and it's enough to tell onlookers that he's your bf
it that didn't give the memo, its the gloved hand on your waist that spoke to people that you were taken.
though that doesn't stop him from tugging you closer in a spur of his protective tendencies. it's a subconscious act he does when you pass a group of people or when yokohama is notably crowded. it's not merely because he's short and is worried about losing you to the sea of wayfarers(at least thats what he tells you) - rather, it roots from a concern that's only repleted when he knows you're safe
behind close doors, however, his kisses lack patience if the way he's gripping your clothes is anything to go by. and while he demonstrates a growing restlessness, he remains pensive to his own strength and withdraws to give you proper time to catch your breath.
but he knows exactly what to do intensify each one and make your brain go hazy
cupping your cheeks, tilting your head, voice speaking in a meticulous timbre that shakes your skull. you're far too consumed in the kiss to recognize when his free hand has found its way to your back, gliding along the spine before slipping beneath the hem.
his gloves are cold against your skin, mumbling a faint 'sorry' that's nearly swallowed when he brushes his lips to yours for nth time.
the limbs explore along the dips and contours, pinching your sides and smirking into the kiss when you yelp in surprise (inwardly, his heart is beating so fast, he wonders if you could hear it when his chest is pressed against yours.)
without the gloves, his hands are a hint warmer. but even warmer are his cheeks when you press kisses to it. he knits his brows together in an attempt hide how much he likes; ultimately, he betrays himself when he pulls you closer
" what the fuck are you doing," he stammers as you press a kiss to his warm cheeks. despite himself, he makes no effort to move when you brush your lips on the other - even warmer than the neighboring pair.
"kissing you," you hum. "... want me to stop?"
" no." he hates how fast the words left him and he hates how you grin at that. it was just the thing to crumble his resolve - and more specifically, it's just the thing to make him go mellow, subservient to your ministrations with his heart beating erratically - even within the scrutiny of strangers and coworkers.
" give me a warning next time." he wants to frown but the expression dies when you crane your head to make contact wherever you can reach. in reponse, an arm finds purchase on your hip, shuffling you closer until you are nuzzled up to his build.
he wasn't sure what rumors would circulate if people saw him being soft - and frankly, he couldn't bring himself to quite care much about the prospect either; inwardly, he was already missing the rehearsal of your lips on his, a desire not easily quelled and he was far more occupied with fixing that.
you let out a confused hum when he suddenly taps at your cheek indignantly. " well?" a thumb hooks beneath your chin, bringing you just shy of his mouth. "are you going to finish what you started?"
when he's making kissy faces with his partner, it's nobody's business.
if you have dimples, he kisses those, each one before concluding it off with your lips
chūya just likes to be in contact with you in some way really. longing to hold your hand and scribe incoherent phrases on the palm. reflected in the way his feet nudge closer to yours and how he never fails to hold your hand beneath the table. when handing you items, he reveals a form of reluctance when he detaches away.
i really want to say he does that thing where he places his fedora over his chest when he kisses your knuckles. he tries really hard to maintain eye contact, but it falters when you send him a beam that makes his chest ache from beating so fast.
and lastly, he never leaves without getting a goodbye kiss first.
" you're forgetting something." chūya vexed— furrow brows bruising his otherwise neutral expression. he hasn't moved from where he stood, silhouette stilled by the partition with nothing but the perpetual tapping of his foot to remind you of his presence. it took all of your strength to push back your laughter at his childish display.
" i am?" you question with a tilt of your head. the inquiry rewarded you with a huff from the former, lip twisting into a frown. admittedly, he looked cute when grumpy, pretty dark eyes tracking you behind colored bangs.
" my kiss?" an index finger points to his neglected lips, promptly chooses to ignore the red hue that harbored along his cheeks, tickling his forehead tauntingly.
chūya tracks your movements as you stride forward, cupping his cheeks within your palms. he resists the urge to close the distance himself - as alluring as it was - he sought out satisfaction when you comply with a genlte kiss. against his own volition, a breathy and likewise dreamy sigh leaves him, just barely audible by the exchange.
his hands sneak down to rest on your waist, twitching when you press a final peck to his cheek. promptly, you decide not to comment on the way a grin was threatening to crack on his oh so serious face.
" better?"
"very."
-
—RANPO
yk in the movies where the guy picks up the girl and spins her around when they kiss? ranpo wants you to do that with him but he's the girl.
piggyback rides ! except he's the one on your back :/ " to the detective agency, y/n!" he jabs out a lithe finger, his dimple smile steady even when you meet him with a glare over your shoulder. it makes him more eager than anything, face squishing against your cheek as he loops his legs around your waist.
" don't give me that look" he exasperates, a brow quirk at your nonverbal response. " the world's greatest detective can't be in better hands."
" you can get there yourself," you sigh, averting your gaze back in front of you. it was hard to fight against him, his persistence shaping your decision the longer he clinged to you.
" thats the boring alternative. duh," he breathes, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. " you know me better than that. besides, i like it when you hold me."
likes kissing you. he will rope up any excuse to steal a kiss. he finished a piece of paperwork? he deserves a reward. finished eating a cookie? kiss the crumbs off. you have absolutely nothing else to do? well, his lips are right there, give him a smooch <3
his kisses taste sweet, the faint traces of chocolate and jams coating his lips. it won't be too far from him to make you guess the flavor of cake he had that morning, but really you think he's just trying to pull more kisses from you. cause he is
" tastes sweet." ranpo shudders when the words vibrate against his lips, cheeks deepening to a rosy hue but the playful glint in his eye ceases to falter. " banana or strawberry?" you blink, a pensive look comprising your features.
a hand cups the back of your head, bringing you close enough for your lips to hover his, still glossy in faint syrup. " nope~!" his proceeding laugh was cut short as he closed the distance again, the ache to kiss you too profound. and with you seated on his lap, he utilized the given opportunity greedily.
you resist the urge to gasp when his tongue swipes along your lower lip, with it the tinge of a fleeting flavor; you recall watching him eat something sweet and sugary in the morning.
he smiles against your mouth, savoring your reactions and attempting to draw out the kiss. " that's definitely strawberry," you contemplate.
ranpo whines when you withdraw, grip tightening against your hands in a stubborn display - it was perhaps the most desperate response you've gotten from him that evening. " are you lying?" you tease with a knowing look; you don't think you've ever seen him shake his head as vigorously as he did now.
" i think," he brushes the corners of your mouth, fingers settling against your chin. "you'll just have to kiss me until you get it right."
the possibility to ponder a response was stolen from you, swelling lips already chasing your own with renewed zeal. dumbfounded, you were naive to the abandoned slice of shortcake just a couple tables away. but by the time you discover it, your little game would be long forgotten.
his childish demeanor often seeps through into his portrayal of affection, fond of sweeping you off your feet at the displays(and at times quite literally too)
it varies in forms; one day he can slump against you like a koala, grip like a vice. and the next he decides to randomly squish your cheeks and bring a kiss to your puckered lips
" ranpo-?!" you sputter, disoriented from sudden and hasty movement. you recall looking over some documents, the next you were gazing into wide green orbs and a nose bumping yours. a self-satisfied look curls on his face, relishing in the way your face fumes beneath his touch.
" surprise~"
" what was that for?"
" just wanted a kiss." he evades the hand on your cheek in favor of curling your bangs around his finger. " i'll come back for more."
he's shameless, unafraid and bold. perhaps not to a similar depth as dazai, but ranpo yields an unpredictability that easily leaves you mellowing in his ministrations
blows raspberries on your cheeks and palms just to coax a laugh from you. it's a reaction he can't help but mimic too and implores you with a "my turn!" while tapping his cheek expectantly.
has probably nibbled on your cheeks at some point too…. :/
likes to hold your hand, slipping it into space randomly and nonchalantly. he sticky like that; appearing from thin air and finding your hand trapped with his.
even better if you sit on his lap or vice versa
when you sleep, he lays on top of you because he doesn't want you to leave him alone. plus! it provides him the perfect advantage to pepper his lips on your collarbone or other patches of expose skin
goodnight kisses (and nap kisses) are a must and he turns greatly fussy when denied such "necessities" as he puts it
" i'm only going to get a glass of water," you reassure him, sweeping his messy bangs aside to press a kiss to his forehead. the crease between his brows goes slack, but his grip remains fixed; it was late, and the last thing ranpo wanted was for you to leave your spot on the futon. " i promise."
his eyes surveyed your face for an inexplicable answer and the fidgeting of his fingers against your forearms tells you he's hesitant.
a silence shrouds the dorm before he speaks again, voice weakened and resigned - it almost made you want to stay in bed with him, enveloped by the unspoken words and his endless aura of affection. " okay." you trace your finger over his cheek, pallid and smooth beneath the pad - the gesture was persuasive enough for his grip to grow lax. he didn't let you get too far yet however, an outstretched pinky waiting before you. he bestows you a broaden grin when you accept it, pressing a kiss to the tip of the adjoin digits.
he doesn't leave your side even as you fix yourself a glass of water, your shared blanket haphazardly draping his shoulders and trailing behind him. he lingers by your arm even as the facet runs, interrupting his thoughts with tired green blinking in impatience. and he watches you through his bangs as you replenish your thirst, already looping your arm and guiding you back to your futon.
not a second after your head meets the pillow, ranpo wraps himself around you, dawning a smile now that you're back with him. he didn't care if his elbow was probed at an odd angle, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible.
" you can't fall asleep yet!" he whines, pulling on the sleeves of your shirt languidly. " it's only fair if you give me a kiss."
" i gave you one earlier."
his gaze shifted to a mixture of displeasure and yearning, small hands pulling eagerly on the fabrics of your clothes. his pleading green eyes made it hard to resist his demands, obscuring into a candid vulnerability you seemingly wielded over him.
" but," ranpo leans close enough for his nose to brush yours, messy fringe framing his sleepy face. his hands flex around your palms, nails scuff on the contours, voice going so low you almost didn't hear him. " i can't fall asleep without it."
pinches your cheeks when in vie for your attention. in any case, he isn't against stomping his foot and whining as a last resort :<
his pout dissipates when you grant him with a collection of kisses or allow him to sit on your lap, fiddling with the ends of your hair or scribbling random phrases on your thigh that he makes you guess
i wouldn't put it against him to randomly jump into your arms or back. the questioning glances he receives hardly impedes him, instead murmuring an "i miss you," into your shoulder. he quivers in your arms when you comb your fingers through his hair, eyes squeezed shut in an air of bliss.
when it comes to deep embraces, he nestles against you akin to a cat, hands pawing wherever he can reach with greedy intent. and that cloak of his can easily encompass the pair of you, performing as a makeshift den of sorts. it feels like your enclosed own little world with him pressing kisses along your face like a butterfly
ranpo is attentive, all too familiar with your habits including the ones you don't cognitively account for. he notes the way you fidget with your fingers, and increasingly it came to be with his fingers you grew fidgety with. if you have a habit of tugging your sleeve, it's not your sleeve you're tugging on anymore but his instead.
he comes to recognize these patterns and responds in kind either with a squeeze to your clasped hand or tapping against your skin in a form of code.
has love hearts in his eyes when you offer to feed him. if he's feeling kind, he'll reciprocate the gesture, though, often at the expense of getting something he wants.
napkins are overrated, kissing off the crumbs or using his thumb are so much more favorable alternatives to him
" say ah~"
you cocked a brow as sugar became smeared on your lip - hardly helped by the titter coming from him. ranpo's persistence was tenacious and the myriad of his treats proved to be bottomless. you weren't sure how many treats you've been fed at that point but it's evident the former found enjoyment from the coddling as evidence of his dimpled smile.
ranpo offers you another confection, a velvety cookie glazed in congealed frosting. when you indulgently take a bite, the filling melts in your mouth and the taste of vanilla floods your taste buds.
" it's good right?" he gives you a smile as he observes your face, brightening when you react positively. " i got them just for you. i knew they were your favorite."
he suddenly pauses, eyes fixating toward your direction. he pays little heed to the look you send him, not when his gaze centers south; that should have been your first sign to up and leave - you want to blame his bribery of treats for your reason to stay.
" you got crumbs all over your face," he said, eyes squinting. while his tone was gentle with a trace of mirth, the way his eyelashes batted innocently at you alluded otherwise. ranpo always held a resurgent glimmer in his eyes, one that he couldn't blink away easily.
he hastily stops you before you could grab a napkin to dapple it away, residing to instead run his thumb along the corners of your mouth. the deliberate proximity catches you off guard and given how his lips shift into a faint smirk; that was exactly the reaction he was hoping to coax.
" much better," he leans back but not without pressing a peck to your nose first.
he plucks out another cookie - and much to your surprise doesn't eat it down right away. more accurately, he crudely cracks it half, revealing an abundance of sugary filling hidden within the confines. without a hint of hesitation, he dips a finger into the cream frosting and messily swatches it against his mouth.
his dimpled smile doesn't leave him for a second even as he slots in front of you directly. his pink cheeks and light stutter chipped away at his facade but his green eyes and lips pulled into a firm beam remained confident.
you almost detested the way it was infectious otherwise you would have rolled your eyes.
ranpo reached out to cup your cheeks, waiting. " it's only fair you do it back, okay?"
-
—ATSUSHI
he holds a lot of hesitation when it comes to enacting anything physical and it shows.
modest, never performing any actions without your explicit consent. even so he exercises slow movement and allows you the opportunity to withdraw if you so desire.
he follows you around a lot though, seeking comfort from being your presence
it shows in the way he inches himself closer to you when you're in the general vicinity. in the way he glances at you for confirmation before lacing fingers. in the way he scoots his chair to close just so his thigh is just slightly nudging yours.
he questions how you're able to be so composed even with something as minimal as brushing clothed skin because inwardly he's going abrack and he can't focus on anything else
" atsushi are you listening to what i'm saying?" your voice broke him from his stupor, head perking up
in the following moment he could do nothing more than let out a nervous laugh, eyes fluttering in companion of scarlet cheeks. " ye- i… erm.. can you repeat that please?"
actually him -> (〃´𓎟`〃)
his favorite physical attributes about you are your hands, i think! they're so strong, and it fits into his perfectly <3 he can spend an hour just tracing the lines along your palm and appreciating the details
as such he's a hand holder as well. he shyly links his pinky with yours before gradually lacing the rest of the digits. when he looks at the joined limbs, it's like a shot of comfort runs right through him.
you often catch him peering at you in the corner of his eyes, mosaic of yellows and purples squinting in intrigue. presently, his hands go clammy, fidgeting against his pants at a random manner; it was a common gesture of his, one that didn't go by unnoticed by you.
" something wrong?" he eases up a bit at the sound of your sincere tone.
" no, not at all," he gives off a nervous laugh, hand scratching the back of his neck. too far into his nerves, he failed to to recognize how the area became chafed. " i was just wondering," he paused, lips shaped into a bashful smile. " can i… hold your hand?"
atsushi didn’t have a mirror on him but he doesn't doubt that his face can put tomatoes to shame.
fortunately, the stiffened muscles on his back go slack at the giggle you release, a nervous chuckle pouring from himself. the erratic beat of his heart meanwhile, resumed its ricochet against his sternum, blood pounding on the lobe of his ear.
"you don't have to be so hesitant about holding my hand, 'sushi." you accentuated the statement by dipping your palm to take his.
it's evident he takes your words to heart, as next time he wordlessly hooks his index finger with yours before properly weaving the rest of the appendage. it was like a perfect puzzle, he reckoned and he gave his head the faintest tilt to gaze at it.
without realizing it, he rolls his thumb over the knuckles, savoring the exchange and the sensation of your fingertips on his. you haven't even spoken a word and already, his heart fills immensely full.
and if you pay attention, you may even catch him grinning at the presumably courageous gesture he mustered himself to do. his clammy palms tell you he's nervous, but it's hard to resist him when he's genuinely trying so hard.
when he does garner the confidence however, he holds his hand out for everything; helping you out of the car(princess treatment w him tbh!), guiding you to bed when you're really sleepy, or when he just needs to be in some form of contact with you. he may even take it a step and pepper some kisses on the knuckles or rub the joints
moving his hand along your back when you're having a bad day of sorts. he may even resort to drawing shapes or random designs with the back of his nail as he listens to all your troubles
whenever your face scrunches up he kisses the pinched muscle until it goes loose again.
" there's that smile." he pushes aside his diffidence for your sake, cupping your cheeks before pressing kisses along your cheeks.
for himself, he finds a sort of reprieve by lying down on your lap. the moment his head makes contact with your thighs is like instant relaxation for him.
and all he can pay attention to afterwards is the sensation tickling his ribs and the way you mindfully took his roots within your fingers.
he seeks stability in such actions; his deep exhale occupying your dorm and meandering with the dust particles that float around him. he doesn't even realize how he's nuzzling closer into your body, eyes squeezing shut when you favor his scalp for a few seconds.
if he could purr, he would
kissing the tips of your fingers and hugging you from behind ♡
its the best form of affection he could ask for when he comes home groggy and sore from work
" i'm home." exhaustion claws at his voice, movements stiff and sluggish as he strips of his tie and other accessories. his eyes surveyed the area, searching until…
a pop of familiar hues sweep into his vision. it revitalizes just enough energy to sustain a pair of open eyes, belied to the fatigue housed prior.
" welcome home, 'sushi." you greet with a smile he couldn't help but mimic even as the muscles in his body disagreed with it.
your mouth moves to mumble something else, but the words become intelligible to his ears. he was more far more concerned in slumping into the crevice of your shoulder, head falling into familiar position.
" miss you," he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against you, affectionate as ever. his hands wander down to your waist, finding the hemline. perhaps his growing daze subdued his rationality, for his hands slipped beneath, pinky faintly hitting skin.
" let's go." you gently tugged on his arm, intending to guide him to your futon; you only managed a couple steps before his grip went firm. almost uncharacteristically. when you turn your head, your met with a pair of fluttering lashes gazing at you - droopy but in its reflection was an intangible touch of fondness.
" this is fine," he brushes his lips to your cheek. the gesture was sloppy but enough to rekindle a grin on your face. " just want you here."
his finger sprawled against your stomach, heart hastening when you leaned back into him. he took the opportunity to douse himself in your comfort, relishing when you brush your fingers past his ear and scratch along his head.
he feels himself sink more when your nail caught a certain spot, just lateral to his head.
if it weren't for your voice breaking the silence, he would have surely fallen asleep at that moment.
" i'm right here," you murmur. " go ahead and rest." he wasn't sure how those words could weigh heavily on him as it did and also provide him the lull to drift off to sleep. but it didn't matter. the real thing is so much better than he can ever imagine.
when you cuddle together, he prefers to settle with his hand or head where your heart should be. the thumping is so reassuring, especially when his insecurities pipe up. he needs to know you're still there :(
on the days he can't sleep, he finds himself playing with your fingers: gently flexing the joints and counting the knuckles
he's docile at anything routley intimate; fuming a pair of uncomfortably hot cheeks and legs reduced to jelly. his words often come in the form of stutters and slurred syllables, the slightest of touches jolting him.
his actual kisses though are gentle and considerate, favoring areas such as your hands and cheeks.
in contrast, the drawn-out gestures are hesitant at first. when it came to the first kiss, he had to swallow down his nervousness.
" did i do okay?" he inquires, eyeing your countenance. he feels a crash of relief when a grin curves on your lips and in turn he flashes you a dazzling amiable smile.
"good." he nods at that, removing the space again with the intentions of lengthening it and making it better than the last. good was fine, but he wants perfect when it came to you
when atsushi gets a taste of what physical affection can be like; pecks at his face, squeezing your hand and spooning you close - he's hooked. and he wants more, becoming akin to an insatiable pit. and it's profound.
he yearns for more kisses and lingering embraces that set his nerves aflame. he yearns to be closer to you until it was just impossible.
it also spurs a part of him(and in consequence of his ability as well) a yearning to leave some markings along your skin. he tries to be considerate in where he places it, but he himself is awful at hiding his own blemishes.
a shaky expression drops on his face, the faint pink on his cheeks deepening to a cherry blush. he wasn't familiar to having your lips press beneath his chin, outlining the thrum of his throat - you could feel it's cadence whenever he sharply exhales, in pair of his palpitating heart.
even within his daze, atsushi remained cautious to not sink his nails into your shoulders. in comparison, he fails to suppress his shudder when your lips brush against a particular spot, air knocked from his chest.
when you glance up at him, his face contorts into a form of raw desperation, tugging onto your clothes until you were just shy of his mouth. meekly, he tries to not linger his gaze on your lips as you spoke; " is this fine?"
it's like you're teasing him, puffy magenta lips gawking at him and he wants nothing more than to kiss you again.
" it is." from the corner of his eye he could make out the faint reds that probed from his clothes hemline, dotting along his collarbone like swatches of paint. he doesn't think he'll ever grow use to it, filling him with an exhilaration he reasons can't be replicated elsewhere.
" i like it actually." his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to steady the eruption of red on his cheeks but it did little to quell his racing heart when you cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
" i'm glad, you look handsome like this."
his smile reaches his eyes. "you look pretty too." his nails dug into his palms in an effort of restraint as he returns the gesture in kind.
-
I was originally hoping to include fyodor but this was so long already. w/ him (& unfinished) it would be 8k words. I rlly want to do version for sigma and akutagawa too. ty boxing fyodor anon 4 enabling my behavior TwT
these have so much room for improvement but I've fiddled around with it sm (๑′°︿°๑). if this doesn't leave the drafts now, it never will. I'll fix mistakes laterrr
taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandiss @4nthonyyliving @guacamole-roll @sunnyx07
be added or removed here !
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lynxxyyy · 5 months
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Fanfic writers say “bad writing” and drops the most toe curling mouth watering shit ever
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chuuyrr · 5 months
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KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US — DAZAI OSAMU
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⊹ CW(s): f! reader, suggestive (kissing, touching, and making out in the office), dazai being a menace, established relationship, mentions of marriage, lovesick! dazai
⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which he wants you, and for you two to get caught
inspired by: agora hills by doja cat !
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dazai osamu could never keep his hands to himself. he was dazai for goodness sake, and he has no shame, especially when it comes to you.
he enjoys being near to you at work just as much as he enjoys being with you in private. so, dazai takes every opportunity to be with you, whether it's holding your hand or twirling a strand of your hair in his hand while you work on reports, subtly leaning his head against your shoulder, or secretly squeezing your thigh, and he always loves the pink blush that spreads on your cheeks as you whisper yell him about pda.
but that's what makes it so difficult for him; dazai loves you too much to keep you a secret. you were his, and he wants everyone to know who you belong to, as well as who he belongs to.
you were about halfway through the papers given to you by the president when dazai slides next to you in his swivel chair, whining as he clings to your arm, "belladonna!~"
"osamu, i'm busy," you smile and giggle, but you quickly switch up, changing your tone as you sigh and flick his forehead, prompting a tiny scream and pout from him, "busy doing the papers you should be doing, mister."
"oh, come on! everyone has already gone out for lunch, and we're the only ones left here!" dazai grumbles as he wraps his arms around you after rubbing his forehead.
"and you insisted on staying with me! ugh, well maybe if you helped me, we can both get some lunch like the oth—" your eyes widen as dazai snatches the papers from your desk, putting them out of your reach and even causing some of the notepads and pens you had on your desk to roll off.
you gasp sharply, opening your mouth to scold him, but he slams his lips against yours, earning you a groan from him.
dazai's hands reach for your waist as he feverishly kisses you, his warm lips pressing deeply yet eagerly against yours.
you turn your face away, attempting to avoid his kiss as you let out a soft whine, trying to tell him off, "not now, osamu!"
but, alas, he closes the gap between you once more, this time much closer as his hands tenderly slide down and hold your hips to pull you into his lap.
dazai feels you squirm on his lap and finds himself chuckling in between the kisses, but he simply holds you firmly, one hand tenderly carressing your hip and the other now on the back of your neck to hold you in place.
how could he resist such a work of art as you? the way the sunlight from the window delicately highlights your face just for him to admire as your hair frames everything perfectly like icing on a cake, and don't even get him started on how you always smell so sweet like vanilla with your perfume.
dazai loves every single part of you and feels the need to be always closer to you, so he has his attention on you like a moth to a flame as you were a temptation for him.
you're so warm and plush in his embrace, and you can feel his warmth seeping through your clothes as much as his hands tenderly hold you in place on his lap.
"m-mmh, osamu. please—" you try to speak again, but he shuts you up with his lips once more, his kiss a demand as well as a declaration of love and desire.
"hush for a second, pretty girl," dazai's breath tickles your lips as he pulls away just a fraction before his lips were on yours again.
"then stop eating my face," you whine softly, grabbing his shoulders and successfully yanking your face away from him.
"aww, and why should i?" dazai says, smirking as he caresses your hip with one hand while the other glides from the back of your neck to your cheek to cup it, "you're just so tempting my dear."
"w-we're at work!" you stammer, squirming on his lap once more, "now put me down or else we might get caught, osamu!"
"too bad," dazai rolls his eyes at you, pinching your cheek before pulling you by the chin, so you were now nose-to-nose with each other.
you feel blood rush into your cheeks at his proximity, and even more so when he says the following words to you.
"i want us to get caught."
at this point, your face was on fire. in fact, the room—no, everything becomes too hot all of a sudden, prompting you to raise your voice out of surprise, "w-what? are you crazy?!"
"crazy in love with you, that is," dazai winks at you before tracing your cheek with his nose, trailing it down as his breath tickles your neck this time, and his breathy voice sends tingles up and down your spine, making you unable to sit still on his lap, "and you have no idea just how far a crazy man would go for his darling angel."
"your hips are an altar i would worship anytime of the day, my love," he whispers as his hands sensually trail from your neck and waist to your hips, squeezing them as he kisses your neck.
as one of his hands began to slip under your shirt, your breaths hitch and you couldn't help but let out a soft whine, and dazai revels in the feel of your skin as he kisses your neck, writing his love on it with marks and soft groans.
"and i know heaven is a thing because i go there whenever i touch you, and whenever i'm with you, baby," he groans with indulgence as his lips continue to kiss and bite at your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt now, caressing your side, the spot just under your chest.
dazai's emotions were all over the place, but it was desire mixed with exasperation. he immerses himself in the sensation of your lips and body during the heated moment, closing the gap between you with undeniable intimacy.
"fuck, i wanna tie the knot," he says in hushed mumbles, completely in love with you.
dazai lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead against yours tenderly, his hands now cupping your face at a daydream of you that he has now engraved in his mind, "i wanna see my pretty girl in a wedding dress, walking up to me to be with me til' death do us part."
"and i just wanna show her off. tell everyone she's mine and no one else's," a soft, low growl escapes his breath as he claims your lips one more time with a feverish deep kiss to mark his territory, but this time it comes with a hint of tenderness as he strokes your cheek.
"osamu, we're gonna get caught," you say softly, your breath shaky, your hands still gripping his shoulders as he continues his assault of kisses.
"then let them catch us, sweetheart. you're mine to brag about," you feel dazai's smirk against your lips, and his hands on your hips again, but this time they're sliding down to squeeze your thighs in a firm grasp that causes you to squirm on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.
dazai then purposefully but playfully bounces you on his lap, causing you to let out a sharp gasp mixed with a whine. suddenly, you hear footsteps outside the office door just as his hands begin to slip further past, and your eyes widen. it was as if he knew your coworkers were about to return from their lunch break, and he did know that.
your heart rate increases with strange excitement and fear. you squirm and try to pull yourself up and away from his lap, but he simply holds you tighter against him, his arms now locking around your waist to keep you in place.
"h-hey, now! let me go!" you whisper yell.
"oh, no. you stay right where you are, my pretty girl. i'm not letting you go," dazai says with a grin, finding amusement in your panic, "nope."
"what are we gonna tell them if they see us like this?! kunikida is gonna scold us!"
"heh, tell em' that we were kissing and hoping they caught us~"
"OSAMU!"
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⊹ A.N: happy halloween! ok, but like, after re-reading this and stuff, this was waaaay better in my head ૮꒰ つᯅ⊂ ꒱ა ՞ˎˊ˗
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fyodor-s-rat · 8 months
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BUNGOU STRAY DOGS - you telling them "please, be gentle" before your first time
ft.: dazai, chuuya, kunikida, ranpo, akutagawa, fyodor, edgar
tw: nsfw!!
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"Please, be gentle..."
Dazai
oh boy, he's enjoying himself too much
he's very cocky about the whole thing, he's teasing you because he loves how easily frustrated you are
but at the same time, he's honored that you chose him for this special occasion
how could he resist to you? you were so beautiful
when you let out these words, he stopped teasing and actually showed some affection
"Don't worry, belladona, everything will be okay. We can stop whenever you want."
Chuuya
like Dazai, he's also proud that you trust him enough to be your first
i feel like he would make everything kinda romantic, candles, roses, red wine, etc.
even though he has a short temper, he would be patient with you
he would take time to prepare you, he definitely thinks that foreplay is very important before sex, especially when it's your first one
so prepare for long making out and cumming on his fingers first
after a while, when you said those words, he just gave you a smirk
"I will be as gentle as you want, sweetheart."
Kunikida
first time with Kunikida would be the best
this man knows exactly what to do
he tries to make everything perfect. every little detail. including the time, the place, the atmosphere,...
he would keep asking if you really want to do this and if you're comfortable
but you were secretly nervous
when those words left your mouth, he gave you a reassuring smile.
"Y/n, you have nothing to worry about with me. I'll be extremely gentle, I promise."
Ranpo
when you told him that you want to have your first time with him, Ranpo felt even more confident than usual
even though he doesn't have much experience, he would be a great lover
when he heard you say those words, he just replied with a cocky smile:
"Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. You couldn't have chosen anyone better than me, the greatest detective."
you just frowned.
his thrusts are slow and sensual
he's keeping you close to his body, stroking your cheek
constantly making sure you're okay
Akutagawa
you're also his first, so you would be both nervous
he doesn't admit it tho
however, you can easily see through him
you see how frustrated he is, how his cheeks burn, how he's already sweaty
you would be the one reassuring him that it will be okay, i think
but when you said those words, Akutagawa realised how much you depend on him
he wouldn't really know what to say
"I... won't be harsh, I promise. If it... hurts or something, tell me."
boy would be extremely gentle, constantly worrying about hurting you and not living up to your expectations
Fyodor
why would you choose him to lose your virginity to?
i have absolutely no idea how experienced Fyodor is, but he would act confident no matter what
he would enjoy this little moment with you so much
he would love how you entrust your body to him
how he has complete power over you
he obviously knows how nervous you are, but he doesn't even try to reassure you
hovewer, when you whispered those words, he actually showed some kind of affection.
"Darling, I don't want to harm you in any way, I still have plans for you."
even though you didn't really understand what he meant, he somehow managed to slowly and gently thrust into you, trying to cause you as little pain as possible
Edgar
he would be probably more nervous than you before your first time
he would be constantly worrying and asking you if you really want it
it might be annoying, but honestly it's lovely how caring he is
"My sweet Y/n, of course that I will be gentle. I will be extremely careful, if you get uncomfortable, tell me. Promise?"
he, indeed, was extremely gentle with you.
-
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4ngel-inc · 1 month
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BUNGO STRAY DOGS — WITH AN S/O WHO HAS A HIGH SEX DRIVE ♡‧₊˚✧˖°
notes — [mdni / 18+], fem reader, dirty talk, etc.
DAZAI is pretty much always horny, even in moments when he's distracted by work or another project, so it's difficult to top his sex drive. when you sneak up behind him, whining about how horny you are—he's rock solid in a matter of seconds. it isn't just the eroticism that turns him on, but the fact you desire him so wholeheartedly—his mind, body, and soul. love and devotion turn him on—luckily, he's received more than he could've asked for from you. "oh yeah? c'mere then, angel. . . ride my face, use your boyfriend like the slutty little thing you are." dazai will grab you and throw you on the bed before climbing on top and gently biting your nipples, ultimately settling at your apex to spread your legs and have a little taste. he's always wrapped up in his own mind, in his own lust and enamor with your body, seemingly talking to your pussy rather than to you—"y'missed me, huh? ooh, look how wet you are already, all for me, yeah?" dazai is down to fuck whenever you are, it doesn't take much to turn him on—just tell him you love him and he's already leaking for you.
CHUUYA is another one who's always down to give you what you need—he wants it just as badly as you do. chuuya is a true romantic, and to him, sex is about more than just fucking. he wants to make love to you so badly, always—to claim you and protect your heart is a great honor to him. he's really a gentleman, but he can get a little antsy, just like you—you're usually the one to initiate sex, but it isn't because he doesn't want it, you just always seem to beat him to the punch. as soon as he walks in the door your hands are all over him, cupping his face and kissing him deeply, grabbing at his coat and pulling him to the bedroom by his lapel. sometimes you don't make it to the bedroom, and settle for the couch instead, chuuya resting his back against the cushions and spreading his legs on instinct, "one of those days, baby? ya missed me, huh?" he barely flinches as you unbuckle his belt hastily, a cocky smirk on his face. "my girl just can't stop her pussy from getting wet when she thinks about me, huh? love how slutty you are, doll, and you're all mine."
AKUTAGAWA is, surprisingly, always down to fuck. getting you off turns him on—he never thought he'd be the one to bring such pleasure, never thought he'd be the one you chose to share your beautiful body with. anyone who knows him knows he's quite stern and unapproachable, but with you, he's very compliant, especially when your hands are running all over his body. his biggest turn on is seeing you bent over for him in the morning, knowing the first thought on your mind when you wake up is his cock. "y-you want this now?" your lips are on his neck, your hand in his briefs stroking his hard-on. "mhmm, you want it too, don't you? you're leaking in my hand already." he rolls his eyes, "i always wake up like this, i can't control it." you get into position, sliding your panties down and bending over for him, spreading your cheeks the way he likes. "this is how you want me, isn't it, ryu? don't be shy, you were begging for it last night." he slaps your ass as he positions himself behind you, teasing you with only an inch or so of his cock, "that's right, and i'll have you begging for it this time."
SIGMA is sooo flattered that you want to fuck him, he's practically stripping his clothes off the second you even hint that you're in the mood. you kiss his neck and nibble on his ear a little, and he's already whimpering, shivering at even the briefest contact with you—"honey, that feels so good, are we doing it again, already? the thing we did earlier?" sigma is so damn adorable you can't help but tease a little, but when his legs tremble as you stroke him through his pants, you find it difficult to wait any longer. "yes, baby, 'm gonna fuck you again, that ok? y'want me to ride you again?" his eyes practically roll into the back of his head when you ask—"you know i'll give you anything you want, i love feeling you—i love you." the words are panted out as he's undressing, much quicker than you are, and it makes you giggle. "you're always so anxious, aren't you?" he frowns a little at that, already laying on the bed naked and waiting for you to sit on him, his cock fully erect and standing tall. "huh? isn't this what you want? i want it too, honey, don't tease me anymore, please. just fuck me."
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stuffeddeer · 5 months
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It's late.
Dazai feels a little ashamed, if he were to be honest. How pathetic is it that he's unable to sleep unless in the arms of his coworker? A little pathetic. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to pick the lock to your apartment.
It's late. You're probably asleep.
He's jealous. Yeah; the clenching feeling in his chest is jealousy from your ability to sleep through the nights (a feeling of his that isn't shared towards his well-rested coworkers). You're asleep, and he should be. He will be.
The door clicks quietly, and Dazai doesn't react. How many times has he broken into your apartment? The question is left unanswered as he saunters into the place, making sure to close and lock it behind him.
You're asleep. It's late.
He makes a pit stop by your kitchen, staring blankly into your fridge like he'd do if he lived here. He counts the number of half finished water bottles littering the shelves, dispersed in between random ingredients you don't open and snacks that are dwindling in number.
If Dazai lived here, maybe he could make you dinner sometime. Gather the ingredients to fill your fridge, put a pan on the stove — however people cook, he can't remember. The fridge closes quietly; It's late. You're asleep.
With a final glance towards the sink, taking note of the dirty cutlery delicately balanced around the edges, he makes his way into the hall. Three steps and he'd be outside your door, your bedroom door, where you're asleep.
Dazai pushes away the same thought that keeps appearing in his mind. Of course you're asleep, it's late.
He turns away from your bedroom and finds himself standing in your living room. It's happily lived in - cushions that have lost their fluff, a blanket strewed across the couch haphazardly. His hand runs over it; always the same blanket. Dazai can imagine sitting under this blanket on the couch with you, the couch you two would share, watching some movie on your small tv just across the small room.
If he lived here, he'd make sure to tidy up the living room before you two went to bed. You kept a basket of blankets just next to the tv, and Dazai could easily drape the blanket back into it before following you off to bed. For now, he leaves it; There'd be no trace he was here come morning.
Once again, he finds himself mere steps away from your bedroom door. You live alone, for now, and yet keep the door closed every night. Is it habit? Are you worried some barbarian will break in just to watch you sleep? (Dazai isn't here to watch you, of course; He's here to sleep as well.) If that is what you're worried about, he could always spend the night with you, just to make sure you're safe. Well, spend the whole night with you, rather than breaking in late and sneaking out early.
Dazai turns into the bathroom.
You have the cutest rug next to your shower, one that always makes Dazai smile. A tough persona is applied at the agency, so only he is privy to your cute pink Sanrio bathmat. It's not what he would have expected for you, and that's what makes him smile. Your counter holds an electric toothbrush and has a lot of clutter Dazai wants to sort through. If he lived with you, he could place his toothbrush next to yours and keep your hair care stuff in the cabinet below. Maybe one day you'd let Dazai comb your hair, with a brush or just his fingers.
It's late. You're asleep. The same thought Dazai has been pushing down since he began the walk to your apartment fills his head once more. He's not delusional, no, but what if you weren't asleep? What if you were waiting up, just for him?
His hand touches the doorknob. It's late. You have no reason to think he's coming. The door opens slowly and quietly as he peers in.
You're asleep.
Dazai's chest constricts and he can't help the frown pulling at his lips. Of course you're asleep; He's stupid to get his hopes up. If you were awake anyway, you'd kick him out and probably call the cops. He is trespassing right now, at a time when you're most vulnerable.
Still, Dazai slips into your warm, cream-colored sheets, his hands clasped together under his cheek as he lies on his side. You're so calm, so serene under the dull light of a street lamp just outside the bedroom window. Hesitantly, Dazai's hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, the tips of his fingers experimentally tracing your skin.
His eyes flutter shut when you move closer. Were you used to his presence? Dazai likes to think you need him to sleep as much as he needs you. Sure, you could fall asleep without him curled up beside you, but maybe he was soothing nightmares. The thought made him frown. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't be here. His eyebrows furrowed like they had when he first broke in — this is weird. This is illegal, too.
A frustrated puff of air leaves his mouth, his eyes shutting more firmly. Tighter, tighter — why isn't he asleep yet?
He curls more into himself, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and anxious and annoyed and-
Your hand moves from your chest to his, softly resting over his heart. The small smile resides back on Dazai's face as he relaxes, slowly drifting to sleep in your bed.
Light filters in through your sheer curtains, the sun kissing your face as you quickly wake up. The blaring of your alarm was the first thing you'd noticed, rubbing your eyes with one hand as you turned to shut it off. Just a few moments of peace, and then you'd get up....
Those few moments didn't come to pass before you were hit with a boost of energy, sitting up in your empty bed. Of course your bed was empty, no need to emphasize it. You live alone, did you expect someone to be there when you woke up?
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fyodorloveclub · 5 months
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DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?
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★ pairing: husband!fyodor x reader
★ cw: DARK CONTENT AHEAD!! 18+, MINORS DNI. noncon, drugging, forced breeding, lots of breeding/pregnancy talk, vaginal sex, not enough foreplay, fyodor is evil!!
★ notes: breedtober fic #?? sorry the fics have been coming out so late, thank u for ur patience ily all <3
want more of breedtober?
DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!
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Dizzy – you’re so fucking dizzy. The room is spinning, your vision is dark and fuzzy around the edges, and you have no clue if you’re sitting or standing up currently. Because, worst of all, every part of your body is numb. You can’t move.  
All you can see is the normally gentle, sweet face of your lover that’s now marred with an expression one can only describe as evil.
You want to reach out, ask him what’s wrong, what’s happening, but you can’t. All movement and speech have been rendered impossible, due to the teacup that lay shattered on the ground, bathed in the liquid that made you like this.
It was completely normal, a routine at this point, to sit in the living room with Fyodor in front of the lit fireplace sipping tea out of teacups from his beloved collection of fine china. The tea varied – chamomile, earl gray, mint, oolong, just plain green. And the activities often varied as well. Sometimes teasing and laughing over a card game, sometimes long, difficult discussions about the future with stoic faces, and sometimes just comfortable silence. The night before you had been discussing marriage and children. But it was always just you and Fyodor with cups of tea.
This had been a night like every other, though conversation remained at a minimum. Jasmine tea as the fire roared a little hotter than usual. What differed was how the tea started to make you feel. It was slow enough that you wouldn’t push away the cup or become unable to drink the whole serving, but fast enough that once it came on, you couldn’t stop it – it was too late.
And now you lay limp in Fyodor’s arms as he laid you down on the chaise lounge you had been resting on with your cup of tea – the one had fallen to the ground once your strength had started to fade.
“W-wha-” you manage to get out, your vocal cords and lips fighting against whatever was paralyzing them.
“Shhh,” Fyodor soothes, petting your hair as he hovers over you. “This is for the good of our family, my love.”
Your slack face slightly contorts into a look of confusion as your fuzzy mind tries to make sense of his words, barely noticing the way he tugged down your pants until his fingertips circled around your clit lightly. Somehow you could feel that. You attempted to jerk away from the touch, but your body once again failed you.
“Oh, my love, don’t you remember?” he tuts before spitting on his fingers and prodding at your hole. He had little interest in foreplay right now. “Don’t you understand? How you saying you ‘didn’t want kids anymore’ was completely unacceptable.”
It suddenly starts to click, even in your fucked mind. The way Fyodor’s jaw tightened, and smile faded during your discussion last night when you admitted that you didn’t see kids in your future. You had paid little mind to his disappointed “oh”. But clearly, he hadn’t let go.
One finger pushes past your still tight ring of muscle, making you grunt. “In case you don’t, in case the drug has addled your conscience too much, I shall explain.” Another finger sinks in. “We will be having children. At least three, to be exact. You will be getting pregnant, and hopefully tonight.” His fingers pump in and out of you, faster and faster, scissoring apart to stretch you open. “Even if that means rendering you useless and unable to resist me."
Tugging his own pants down, he spits in the palm of his hand before gripping his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times. “I considered just pulling you ass up for easiest access, but I want you to see me – to watch what happens when you disobey my wishes so severely.”
Since you’re completely dead weight, Fyodor has to manually spread your legs wide in order to slot himself between them, his grip tight underneath your knees. Then his lips are on your as he leans over you, the kiss forceful since you’re unable to reciprocate – not that you would’ve anyway.
The leaky tip of his cock as he revels in your inability to fight back is proof that he’s enjoying this immensely, the sick bastard. You want to scream out, thrash against him as his length slides into your cunt in protest of how unfair this is, how he can’t just decide to get you pregnant, but you can’t. You’re completely stuck just… taking it. Until his balls are pressed all the way against your ass, the puff of hair at the base of his cock tickling against your clit.
And somehow, you can feel it on the inside. You can feel the sting and burn as he pushes in and stretches you out, but can also feel… the pleasure. Maybe it’s the way your slack jaw falls open further at his first thrust, your body twitching, but Fyodor can tell. The way your body is forcing you to feel good against your wishes.
You grunt pathetically with every single thrust, legs hanging loosely around his waist and tongue lolling out of your mouth with drool pooling out of the corner. Fyodor is going mad with how much he loves this, how quickly he’s getting off from just using you without your permission. His violet eyes shine fiercely and the sick smirk on his face only grows as he fucks you harder and harder.
"Going to look so pretty pregnant, my beautiful doll,” he coos, massaging the soft fat of your tits. “So round and so full of my babies, so swollen you can barely walk, can’t even see your feet. You’ll need your darling husband’s help to even walk down the stairs,” he babbles, clearly just talking to himself.
“Do you like it, pretty? The way I’m just using you? It turns you on, doesn’t it? You and your body are mine, you know. I own you. And I own the right to use you however I please, to make you whatever I please.”
Of course, Fyodor had always been a bit possessive, always liked to call you his, but never to this caliber. Never to the point where you thought he’d do something like this.
His thrusts get faster and faster with every sick and twisted sentence, and though your hearing was fuzzy too, the wet sounds of skin on skin echoed through the room. Too wet to only just be his precum… were you wet? From what he was doing to you?
The orange light from the roaring fireplace illuminated Fyodor’s face in the most terrifying way, highlighting his sharp features, and igniting his eyes and sweat that had begun dripping down the sides of his face.
He leans in close, whispering into your ear. “Are you ready for my seed, doll? Ready for me to cum so deep inside you your womb is forced to take all of it?”
You’re able to shake your head a bit, and Fyodor clicks his tongue.
“You’re ready because I say so.”
You can’t feel it, but by the way his eyes roll back and his hips stutter, cock throbbing inside you, you can tell he’s cumming. Filling you up with the seed he promised to get you pregnant with.
After pulling out, he kisses you deeply.
“Before we go again, I will fetch you some more tea, my love. It seems you’ve regained some ability to move, and I can’t have that.”
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honeydazai · 6 months
Text
୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  pregnancy headcanons𝆬 𓏸
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Poe, Nikolai, Sigma, Jōno, Fukuchi
content: f!reader, pregnancy and related symptoms, soft....
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If you truly believe that DAZAI is anything but awfully flirty during your pregnancy, you're wrong. He constantly mentions just how gorgeous and breathtaking — or, in certain situations, outright hot — you look, making sure that you never have any reason at all to feel insecure about yourself, even if you gain quite a lot of weight. Like he cares; he's fond of all women, after all, but especially you, and, in his eyes, it's impossible for you to be anything but beautiful.
That also means, though, that he won't keep his hands off you, constantly fondling your now larger chest, your hips and stomach and everywhere he can reach, really. Deep down, he doubts he'll make for a good father, though he's determined to try his best for the sake of your small family. This includes shedding his usual lazy attitude and helping you with household chores, as well as laying off the alcohol, hopefully.
“You're terrible, bella. Honestly awful — how am I supposed to get any of those papers done when you're next to me, looking this irresistible? It's like you're trying to set me up for failure. Ah—, but I'm sure Kunikida will understand if I take a small break, hm? Get over here, darling.”
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CHŪYA suddenly spoils you even more than he did before the announcement of your pregnancy, though, really, he's just awfully overjoyed. The thought of actually getting a child with you, a true family, still seems surreal to him, like a situation out of a dream rather than something that can happen in reality and, for a moment, he wonders whether he's deserving of something this wonderful. Unfortunately, he's rather busy, but, naturally, he makes as much time to be with you as somehow possible, rolling his eyes at Mori whenever another oh so “urgent mission” comes up.
To make up for him occasionally not being home, you get Kōyō, as well as Higuchi, Gin, Hirotsu and Tachihara who make sure to constantly keep an eye on you. Even if you're simply going out to get some ice cream, one of them accompanies you — and, luckily, they make for surprisingly great friends. While Chūya's life style, being a dangerous ability user who works for the Port Mafia, isn't the safest, he's fairly content that he'll be able to protect you and your child from any harm whatsoever — he'd give his life for yours, after all.
“Hm? I'm not mad. I just—, not at you, at least. I wanted to take ya out on a proper nice date tomorrow, made a reservation and everything, though the Boss just assigned me some apparently important mission. Yeah, I know. Sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you, yeah? Ah, it's already paid for, though. You can take Kōyō or Gin, if you like. They should be free tomorrow. Sorry. I love you.”
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FUKUZAWA never felt for anyone as strongly before as he now does for you, meaning he never imagined himself to eventually grow old surrounded by a loving family, with a partner and a child, even. It sounds too perfect to be true, not like a situation that'd fit into his current life, and yet he finds himself overjoyed after overcoming the initial disbelief, his smile dripping with love, with affection as he gently meets your lips in a kiss, arms immediately curling around your body to hug you close.
During the pregnancy, he's all the more protective of you, unwilling to ever leave your side. If things went his way, you'd accompany him to the Agency's office in the morning and would leave in the evening together with him, though he admits that he sees why that might be a tad boring. He simply aches to keep an eye on you, worried about what might happen to you when he's not around, though several Agency members assure him that they, too, will keep an eye on you.
“I'm afraid I can't accompany you today, dear. I'm sorry. An urgent meeting came up, but I'm sure Kunikida or Yosano would join you. Alright? We'll go there together next time. Just— be safe, yes? I trust you're in good hands. Still, don't hesitate to call me if anything happens.”
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You best believe that FYODOR has made sure to inform himself as much as humanly possible about pregnancies the moment you announced that the multiple tests you did are positive. While he's the slightest bit strict when it comes to topics such as what you should and shouldn't consume, as well as anything else related to the yours and baby's health, he naturally makes sure to completely indulge most of your cravings, too — when you're the one to bring new life into this world, who is he to forbid you from having another pastry or a second bowl of ice cream?
He's so very gentle in everything he does, carefully caressing your stomach before cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his smile warm, like he can't believe his hands, tainted ones, are allowed to hold something this pure, this holy. It's safe to say that you've always had multiple security guards hovering around you to ensure your safety, though, now, Ivan makes sure to tend to your every need, too, often bringing you the meal you're aching for or even trying out silly yoga techniques for relaxation with you.
“Ah, now—, careful, dear. Allow me to get that for you instead — you should call for Ivan when I am not around. You mustn't overexert yourself. I would hate for you to hurt yourself. Simply sit back and relax, will you? .. Please, for the sake of us, of our family. It won't matter in the long run whether you or someone else got a snack for you, but it will matter if you climb atop a shelf, fall and hurt yourself gravely. Yes?”
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POE honestly does not quite believe his ears when you first mention you're pregnant. When you end up showing him the positive test, however, his smile is blinding, the most sincere one he's had in what feels like ages. He, unfortunately, is the type to worry; while he's still more than delighted, he's almost tempted to create a pocket dimension in a book for you where you'd be safe and cared for, though he has to stop himself from doing just that. It'd be a little overbearing.
Given how he's more than wealthy, you don't have to worry about anything at all. Whatever you crave, it's yours immediately — as fast as premium online shipping works, that is —, whether it's new clothing to accommodate your changing body, furniture for the child's room, certain snacks only available in a foreign country; anything, really. He also makes sure to constantly check in on how you're feeling, asking multiple times every few hours and, when he's not home for whatever reason, he leaves you a surprisingly large amount of text messages, telling you to call him immediately if anything feels.. odd.
“Are you experiencing anything like cramps? Nausea, perhaps? No? That's a relief. Ah, I just—, that's merely what it said on the Internet, symptoms that could happen. I'm relieved if you truly are alright for now.”
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Usually, NIKOLAI is a force to be dealt with. He's unpredictable, mood changing quickly, his smirk wide and his eyes sharp, though, once you tell him you're pregnant, he's surprisingly gentle in the way his hands move to rest on your stomach, his revealed eye sparkling with joy as he coos at the barely visible bump as if the baby is able to hear him. He keeps carefully running for once bare hands over the stretched skin, telling the child stories and that you're both excited to meet it; anything that comes to mind, really.
If you get odd food cravings during the pregnancy, he's not afraid to supply you with whatever you want, as well as to try them out with you. Perhaps ice cream with hot sauce and pickles will be a new family dessert; he's anything but scared of new possibilities.
“Ah, what are you having, doll? Allow me to try, please? Hm? I'm not stealing from you; now, now, don't be mean—, alright, alright. I admit defeat. At least let me say hi to our sweetheart then, yes?”
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The moment SIGMA learns that you're expecting a child, his child, he's ecstatic. He'll make sure you have everything you might want or need, ranging from all kinds of different snacks you could possibly crave to a personal masseuse if you're feeling sore. The more your bump starts to show, the more often he can't help but rest his hands on your stomach, gently caressing, or even pressing soft kisses to it. There's nothing that gets to him more than the idea of having a family with you.
Despite his initial joy, he's another one who's prone to worrying and overthinking, his warm smile making way for a deep frown when he knows you're not looking. He borders on overprotective with how much he keeps an eye on you, even more so than usual, given how, now, he has two loved ones to protect, not just one anymore and, oh, he's admittedly stressed, constantly thinking that something might happen to you, to the baby.
“How are you feeling, love? Is everything alright? Promise you'll tell me if you feel anything odd, yes? I'm not worried. I just don't wish for anything to happen to you or the baby. Alright, I'm admittedly the slightest bit worried, but I really can't help it. I love you, after all.”
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JŌNO honestly never expected to ever have a child of his own in the first place, meaning that the knowledge of you being pregnant is something he needs to process for a bit first. Nonetheless, he's happy, of course. How could he not be? It's an odd thought, one he'll have to get used to first, but, in general, it's a pleasant one. Naturally, his job comes with some dangers for you and your future
He's protective by nature, having found pleasure in saving people rather than torturing them, and you're no exception. Seeing you smile, knowing that you feel safe with him is the best feeling he could ever ask for, though his desire to protect you from all harm quickly gets overwhelming. It's less harm from outsiders he fears — he deals quickly and efficiently with criminals, thank you very much —, but more you harming yourself, perhaps by tripping and falling when he's not around, resulting in him preferring to take every little task out of your hands. Oh, well.
“My, my, stay seated, dear. I'll handle this. Hm? I'm not treating you like you're fragile. I know you're not sick, merely pregnant; you mention it often enough. Still, is it so wrong for me to care for you? Yes, that's what I thought.”
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FUKUCHI is a busy man. Really, being a war hero and the Hunting Dogs Captain — as well as Kamui, but perhaps that's not something for you to know about —, you'd expect him to be busy with work even while you're pregnant with his child, though that's far from reality. Instead of prioritising work and his reputation, he makes sure to come to every doctor's appointment with you, constantly by your side, and spends as much time as possible at home with you, one hand of his ever so often resting on your stomach, even when the bump is barely visible.
He claims he's able to feel the child's heartbeat already — whether that's true does not seem to matter, not when he's busy peppering your skin in kisses, smile never leaving his face as he wonders aloud whether it'll be a girl or a boy, what their name should be and if their eventual first word will be “mum” or “dad”; his bet is on “mum”, by the way, even though he pretends to be heartbroken by the idea, all too dramatic.
“You look surprised to see that it's me picking you up rather than some chauffeur, sweet thing. Why's that, I wonder? I already told you I'll accompany you to every doctor's appointment you have. The rest of the Hunting Dogs can cover me for one evening. I wouldn't miss this for the world.”
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a part of this was a commission! thank you so much again! 💜 Also the idea of Ivan doing yoga with you had me giggling..
tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @alice0blog @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha
@xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @Chxrry-doll
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allisonlol · 4 months
Note
Bsd characters with a s/o who does only fans?
a/n: omg hello?? i’m BACK. thank y’all for all the love in my absence btw…we hit 3k awhile ago and i didn’t say anything so TYSM❗️🫶🏻 here are some little hc’s to get me back into the swing of things. i chose a bunch of randoms!
warnings: mild sexual content, implied violence
BSD Characters When You Have an Onlyfans
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Dazai:
first and foremost lol
he is DEFINITELY down for this shit
you need him to take photos for you? he already has the camera open on his phone. you wanna record something with him? you blink and his clothes will already be on the FLOOR
i feel like dazai already has a thing for recording sex, so he loves it
i’m sensing a bit of voyuerism with the way he wants other people to watch y’all 🤨
also doxxes and hunts down the people who leak ur shit 🫵🏻❌
Chuuya
hmm mixed opinions on this one
like. chuuya doesn’t wanna control u or tell u what to do, but…
he is too possessive a man to be alright with u having an onlyfans
is embarrassed to admit this tho and will just be like “oh…okay” while avoiding looking you in the eye if u ever mention it
completely avoids getting involved with it…sorry but you’ll have to take ur own pictures.
don’t get me wrong, he likes to see them after and always think u look incredible!! chuuya just hates to imagine all the other men doing the same and worse to them
bro will hustle even more to provide enough money for you to get off the net 💀
Akutagawa
u had to tell him what onlyfans was and even then, he was like “erm…”
i feel like he doesn’t take it too seriously. at first almost considers it like instagram 😭
but once u ask him to help take pics for you, and he sees what ur (not) wearing, he’s suddenly like “what’s all this abt…”
let’s you continue to post but only if he can stand in the background of each picture with a knife 🔪
besides that, he doesn’t like being on camera for videos or anything. doesn’t feel comfy with u filming what he considers ur most intimate moments 👎🏻
Nikolai
don’t have to ask him twice!! this man is even more eager than dazai
becomes his goal to get you to the top 1% (and y’all get pretty damn close)
your photos and videos turn much kinkier once nikolai joins you
gets u new lingerie to wear for each photo set, buys u a bunch of toys, proposes new ideas for videos…might as well give this man 50% of profits
almost starts to take over YOUR onlyfans…makes an appearance in every post 💀
Fyodor
i’m unapologetic about this one
it’s an immediate and definite no
demands u delete the account and “respect yourself more” 🤨🤨
(covering up for his extreme possessiveness…he cannot stand any “vile men” looking at u)
u try to show him the photos on there and he shoves your phone away, talking some shit abt how it’s disgusting??
i feel like fyodor has one of those weird madonna-whore complexes…whole other thing to get into but basically he doesn’t even like to see sexual photos of u most of the time 💀
ur messing with his religious vibe!! don’t tempt him!!
taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster
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