Latest Posts by hanayoshiii - Page 4

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ SWEET OBSESSION

SUM. gojo is your childhood best friend so why does he watch p*rn of girls that look like you?…

PAIRING: childhood friend!satoru gojo x reader

CONTENT. nsfw, childhood friend troupe, gojo kinda a p*rn addict, kissing, creampie, overstimulation, tit worship, bde, jealous gojo, fingering, oral f!receiving, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, pet names, praise kink, spanking, squirting, nice gojo,

A/N: inspired by the manwha ‘Childhood Friend Complex’

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI.

satoru never liked using his brain too much when it came to relationships. people came in and out of his life and he just went with it. so knowing you for twenty-two years now was natural to him. your moms were best friends so it was just a thing to always see you. you were comfortable, he didn’t have to do anything. you argued and fought but it was never anything serious aftet a week. yes the longest you’ve argued was exactly seven days and you made up after that. why? because that was just how your relationship was.

so how did he end up here, watching your face twist in absolute pleasure as you cried for him to be more gentle….did it just happen or was it the small things…?

“wanna go eat?” satoru easily leaned against you as you studied.

your jaw clenched. “ow!” you dramatically snap, elbowing him in the gut. “get off me.”

“ow!” he grits his teeth, shoving you so you slid slightly off the bench.

“you’re so annoying, seriously!—“ you kicked him, completely throwing him off the bench. neither of you caring about the students passing around campus staring at you. his nerve twitched aggressively on his forehead making you break out laughing, only for him to grab the back of your shirt and yank you down. the one thing he did easily was cup the back of your head so it wouldn’t slam against the concrete. “what the hell!” you yell, not even noticing that little gesture.

“are you on your period or something, why’re you so mean today!” he shouts, rubbing his side.

but he notices you sitting up, slapping your hands to your face as you start shaking with frustration. “I’m just studying.” you fake gag, to which he jumps back. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this exam! It’s so bad! LIKE REALLY BAD!!!” satoru sits back on his hands as he listens to your crying rant until you’re sitting across from each other eating cheap pizza.

“stop i like these,” satoru tries to slap your hand away as you pick the olives from his pizza.

“no i like them more, stop being a baby,” you huff when he grabs your wrist and eats your whole finger taking the olive. you jerk back in disgust, he’s laughing as you wipe your hand on his shirt. “disgusting.”

because it was disgusting. you never thought about satoru, other than the fact that he was an annoying parasite that you doubt will ever leave your life. people doubted your friendship. it started in middle school when the question of if you like each other first came up. you both almost threw up at even being asked that question. but eventually it turned into even more of nuance, especially with the women that whispered about satoru, people highly doubted something platonic can be around someone that beautiful. but even so, nothing changed.

even as it came to the last year of university, all you could do was focus on your studies and the growing anxiety of graduating and actually finding a job. satoru was just someone that you spent a lot of time with. that’s it.

“you have to!” your friend, noah, groans, glaring at you as you both sit in the computer lab editing your final films.

“stopppp I don’t have time for this,” you whine, crying on the table as you push her face away from you.

your other friends take their headphones off as they join the conversation. and that conversation is about your nonexistent sex life.

your head falls back on the chair, staring up at the ceiling.

“just lose it tonight.” noah grabs your hand.

you glare at her, “ya definitely with the boyfriend I don’t have?”

“with anyone!”

you frown.

“everyone does it. seriously the first is just the ice breaker then you can do it with someone you actually like. the first guy just has to be attractive,” shoko — who’s not even a film student but is just here to bother you guys — says.

you whine, covering your ears because you already know how hot your face is and this was the only way you can preserve some of your dignity. “i…I don’t wanna talk about this.” you flush even more hiding in your shirt.

“why, do you want it to be romantic with rose petals everywhere—“

“no!” you blurt. “I-i just want it with someone i can trust…I don’t want anyone seeing me naked.”

“you’re such a baby. I’ve seen you naked a billion times, you’ve got a great body!—“

“I ate a lot during thanksgiving!” you whine, “no one is gonna like that, and I don’t have pretty lingerie—“

noah goes quiet as does shoko because standing by the door is satoru, his lips between his teeth, desperately trying to stifle his laughter.

you notice their eyes and glance up.

your vein snaps the second he breaks out laughing. tears fill his eyes as he cries, it was almost painful how much he’s laughing. “shut up!” you stand up, punching him hard in the stomach.

he buckles over, gasping, but it turns into more laughing on the ground. your jaw clenches, as you grab the back of his collar and pull him along with you. “shut the fuck up!” you groan as he continues laughing.

but eventually you end up at his apartment eating his moms cookies, because she of course gave them to him to give to you.

“do you have something to drink….like alcohol or something?” you mutter, stuffing your face in the kitchen.

satoru raises a brow, “since when do you drink?”

“UGHHHHHH can I do anything anymore!”

satoru cringes. “what the fuck…” he grabs some vodka, soda and two cups. the second he pours them together you snatch it from him and chug the entire thing. you slam the cup on the table.

you stare at him.

he stares back. his brow quirks.

“have you had sex?”

your question definitely flew out of your mouth faster than you could think, but then again, it’s just satoru so who cares.

he sighs, relaxing on the stool grabbing his own cup. you watch him as he takes a long time pouring himself a drink, then watch him slowly drink it. your eyes narrow in annoyance until he meets your eyes.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

your nose scrunches. “so you haven’t.” you roll your eyes.

“no! I didn’t say that!” he screeches, whining even more when you shrug him off grabbing some more alcohol to empty your brain.

“everyone’s obsessed with having sex. but guess what! not all of us can do it that easy! i have—i have….” you grab your head, screaming internally as you whine. he watches in amusement, you’ve gotten drunk a couple of times and it always made you do the stupidest shit which you’d regret the very next day.

“I don’t wanna hear it—“

“whatever,” you continue drinking. the topic changing with your mood as you both start bickering again then laughing, but you’re getting even more drunk. and maybe worse than you was satoru. satoru was now thinking about what you were going to say earlier. you have what? you have…needs? expectations?….but that made him start thinking about who would be your first. would they be a nice guy or a mean guy? would you kiss him? would you let them kiss you? what if they use you? what if they break your heart? what if they hurt you…

“fuck I’m drunk,” he grumbles out loud. glancing up at you who is scrolling through your phone. “what’re you doing?”

“huh?” you look up eyes heavy before going back to your phone. “noah and me are going on a blind date tomorrow with some guys.”

“what?!” he shouts, eyes wide. “are you horny or something?! just touch yourself to that ugly ass mma dude with the scar on his mouth—don’t sell your body!”

“I’m not selling anything,” you mutter lazily, still drunk texting your friend to confirm the date. “and nothings gonna happen, I’m not that easy.” you glare at him to which he rolls his eyes, yeah yeah.

satoru was many things. truly. but spying on your date was not one of them. it was an honest coincidence that him and suguru passed by a restaurant and he noticed you sitting by the window. he didn’t even think twice before slamming his hands against the glass scaring the living shit out of you.

you and noah both scream. but the second you recognize the idiot he’s already laughing, rubbing his face on the glass as if he isn’t the one getting all the germs on him. you flip him off and bang on the glass making him jump back laughing harder.

“leave,” you groan when he comes inside standing in front of the table as suguru stands a couple feet away giving you an amused wave. “take him with you.”

“what! I wanna eat here too, is that a crime?? you don’t own the place,” he smiles at you, only for you to scrunch your face in ugly annoyance, especially because it was embarrassing for him to see you on this stupid blind date. you stand up, apologizing to the men as you grab him by the collar pulling him with you.

he coughs, “you’re choking me.”

“I’m not,” you sigh when you manage to get him outside. your lips part as you cover your face suddenly.

his eyes go wide. “woah, i was just messing around, don’t be upset—“

“is this embarrassing?” you mutter through your hands. his brow rises, eyes growing even more when he sees your eyes peak between your fingers, almost seeing the steam coming off your face. what’s with this reaction? why did you kinda look cute?

“is it embarrassing that I’m going on a blind date with randos and I’m in my senior year of college?”

“it’s more embarrassing that you’re embarrassed,” you cover your face again.

you whine, “I know! I’m so nervous, this feels so weird.” you feel so out of your comfort zone. It’s never been hard to talk to people or guys, but in a setting where it’s a date, it was so foreign. “I’m gonna die alone, satoru.”

“ya probably,” he laughs, but then you lean your head against his chest.

“don’t say that,” you mutter. “I can do this.” unbeknownst to satoru who’s suddenly realizing that you actually want to be in a relationship with someone. maybe he shouldn’t be so mean then.

he pats your head. growing even more conflicted when he squints to see the guys you’re having dinner with. you weren’t the naive type, that’s unless it came to relationships and actually engaging with the opposite sex romantically. i mean he can still remember the first time a guy hugged you back in elementary school. the way you were having fun playing jump rope during recess and some boy suddenly stood in front of you stopping the game and then hugged you out of nowhere. you started screaming and hitting him back which resulted in you standing outside the principals office and satoru laughed.

albeit you were still young then so you didn’t know that meant that boy liked you. if he was to remember something more recent then maybe the time you went to the amusement park as a group and satoru knew for a fact one of his friends liked you. and yet the entire time you were absolutely dumb as a brick. laughing and having fun with him not realizing you were basically matching his energy until he tried to lean for a kiss and you backed away stumbling into satoru. it turned into a very awkward moment and satoru’s friend saying that you were leading him on. and now you’re here saying you want a serious relationship but could never take a hint even if it slapped you in the face?

satoru takes a deep breath. patting your head by accident. you look up, eyes so bright under the moonlight that it leaves him momentarily speechless. woah.

he looks away. rather too quickly to be subtle that you lean on your tippy toes grabbing his face with your hands.

“what is it?” you’re staring into his soul.

“nothing!” he tries to pull your wrists away, but why were your hands so soft against his cheek and strong?

“you just stared at me then jerked your head away. what were you thinking??”

“nothing! I just didn’t wanna see you cry like an ugly baby again!”

“I wasn’t crying!” you whine loudly, shoving him.

“you so were.”

“no!”

“yaaa!”

that went on for a couple seconds until you gave up with a scoff. “go, you’re so annoying.”

“gladly.”

satoru turns sharply, only to look over his shoulder again, you were walking back to the restaurant, his eyes skim down your outfit. you were wearing a pretty cute skirt, something he’d rarely ever seen you wear. you were always afraid of the wind or running and your skirt lifting up so you rarely wore them. but he’s never seen this one before, it was a cute black one. he’d definitely be all over it if it wasn’t you who was wearing it. you with your surprisingly soft hands, and big doe eyes. were your thighs just as soft? would they fill his palms if he squeezes them?

his mind easily remembered the question you asked him yesterday. have you ever had sex? why’re you thinking about things like that? is that why you’re on this blind date? did you wanna fuck one of these guys? if he was thinking about how nice the skirt made your thighs look, what’s stopping those guys from thinking the same thing—

“here.”

you pause as you feel satoru tie his jacket around your waist.

“it’s not cold.”

“whatever, take it, it doesn’t match my outfit anyways.” he lies, and you shrug taking it aggressively, trying to say you’re still annoyed by him as you walk inside. that’s when satoru steps in again, grabbing your wrist gently.

“don’t drink too much.”

“okay, dad,” you scoff.

satoru mimics you before rolling his eyes. “I’m just being considerate, idiot. you’re the one that says you wanna wake up early this entire week to finish editing.” you fall silent, frowning as you pucker your lips.

“ya ya.” you give in.

however even though he told you not to drink, that didn’t stop him from worrying. especially when he was in a private karaoke suite with a bunch of hot women and suguru.

“she’s probably still out with those uglies,” satoru mutters, knee bouncing as one of the other girls gets up to sing. that’s when satoru notices she’s wearing the same skirt as you, but it’s not nearly as fitting on her as it was on you.

suguru raises the can to his lips. “if you’re so worried, call her.”

“we’re in a fight right now. she has to call me first.” he crosses his arms leaning back into the couch, legs spread wide.

“how’re you fighting?”

“we just are.”

suguru met satoru in middle school. he was also one of the kids that assumed satoru had a crush on you or was dating you. how would he know? the two of you were inseparable. but the confirmation you two weren’t dating, only opened more stupid thoughts in suguru’s head, such as: you will date in the future then. but that idea became spotty. he no longer understood your relationship especially during high school and especially in college. you were childhood friends since birth, you knew basically everything about each other, both of you swearing up and down that you can’t stand to look at the other, both of you almost throwing up (no joke) when you were put in a closet for seven minutes in heaven back in eleventh grade….and yet satoru seems to have a very specific type.

satoru arrived back at his apartment pretty late. but nonetheless as he leaned back into his bed after a nice shower he easily opened up his phone and scrolled to his messages where suguru sent him another video on x.

“fuck.”

satoru teased himself over his shorts as he watched the explicit video of a girl laying on her back, legs spread as she’s getting fingered while sucking her lover off. it was one of the many videos satoru would watch, even asking suguru to send him more videos of women that look like her. it was subconscious. the sudden spark that would ignite in him when he’d watch videos of women that look like this. he didn’t know why, but that didn’t stop him from tightening his grip on his cock as he tugged and squeezed his painful dick.

his eyes were growing heavy as he felt the arousal buildup, his fat cock desperately wanting to release but then—

BUZZ BUZZ

his breath hitched seeing your face on his screen.

why the fuck are you FaceTiming him?? he clicks decline. cheeks flush as he tries to get in the mood again, but you’re calling again. he declines. that’s when a rapid number of texts start coming one after the other. your messages were spotty. broken words, the sentences weren’t even making sense except for a couple that would say ‘answer’ or in all caps ‘HELLOOOO’ .

his blood level is spiking, cheeks flooding red seeing your stupid face on his screen again that he finally answers.

“WHAT?!”

you’re walking outside, brows pinched as you finally see his face fill your screen.

“i drank too much. and missed the last train…come, satoruu.” you’re whining and throwing a tantrum as you plead with him.

his throat bobs as he sees you squat by a bench. your neckline dipping to show a little of your cleavage and he accidentally squeezes his cock. a choked grunt escapes his lips as you frown even more. your cute face scrunching and your cheeks flushed adorably, fuck you looked completely wasted.

“why is your face all red?”

his heart stops. “it’s not.”

“your face is all flushed.”

“no. you’re just fucking drunk.”

you frown, “come get me, please please pleaseee”

….fucking idiot.

your eyes light up as you see the familiar motorcycle pull up. you bounce up to your feet, with a huge smile as the rain pours down, you were using his jacket as a cover as you run over to him. “satoru!” you cry, hugging him tight as he pats your back, annoyed.

it took almost an hour for him to find you because you had no idea where you were. he couldn’t even go to the restaurant because you all went to another bar, but you weren’t paying attention to the name when you walked in and after you all walked by the water before everyone went their separate ways. so satoru was driving around the entire city, growing annoyed by each passing second, especially when your phone died and it started raining.

“what happened to that fucking portable charger you used with my money?”

“i lent it to noah,” you lean against his leg as thunder starts cracking above pouring even more. you definitely were wearing the worst outfit for the rain. your skirt was dripping wet, stinking to your thighs, and as for the baby blue blouse that was tied with two dingy strings in the back, well it was sticking to your very full chest so that he could see your black bra so easily through the thin material.

his cheeks went hot.

“get on,” he pulls the extra helmet out from the seat handing it to you. it fit perfectly, considering that when he bought the motorcycle he also bought two helmets. one for him and one for you.

you’re a little unsteady, his hand holding your arm as you slip his jacket on, and climb behind him. your stomach growling. “im hungry.”

“shut up.”

he makes sure your arms are secure around his torso. “don’t let go.”

“obviously.” you huff, squeezing tighter as you come closer to him, he can feel you shivering behind him as more rain pours down. he’s silent as he starts his engine again his hand giving yours a squeeze. in response you squeeze back, signaling that you’re ready.

the city was still awake as you drove. your eyes bright under the mask as you looked at the lights. your mind so in the clouds that you didn’t even regret drinking so much, even though it was still pouring, you felt so alive. you were so lost in your head that you even pushed back that feeling you felt earlier. especially after what happened at the bar…

“are you okay?” satoru yells as he feels you squeeze him a little tighter,

you hum, before realizing that he can’t hear you. “ya!” your sing song voice has him laughing, driving just a little faster. he didn’t think about the satisfying feeling that stirred inside him when you pressed yourself fully against his back. your thighs squeezed the seat, as you came closer to him, moving your arms from his torso to stretch your arms out.

satoru was quick to grab your arm and put it back around his torso, gripping your wrist tight:

“idiot!”

you laugh as he drives faster the rain was lighting up, no longer pouring like before. you yell for him to go faster and he does just a little almost running a red light before stopping at the next one. this gave him the chance to look over his shoulder.

“i told you not to move.”

“i was stretching, idiot.”

he tsks, “same thing.” your arms wrap around his torso fully as you press your chest against his shoulder blades, whining in the helmet. “don’t fucking cry.”

“im not crying. my clothes are all soaked because of the seat and my panties are wet too now!”

what the fuck?! satoru mentally screams, are you dumb? you can’t say things like that to him. he’s still a man at the end of the day. asking him about sex, wearing a short skirt. you’re you! the stupid idiot that’s been stuck by his side since practically ever. but now there is an explicit image in his head of your panties being soaked to transparency. were they black like your bra. what if they’re blue like your blouse? and now they’re so wet from the rain and sitting on his seat that it’s stuck to your folds—

“s-shut up!” he stammers, so hyperaware of your proximity that he feels his lower stomach burning up. your legs were all wet and your thighs were pressing into his side.

satoru wanted to drive faster to finally get you away from him, but he was also aware of your safety.

“finally!” you sigh, arms in the air as he parks his motorcycle in front of his high end apartment complex. “help me.”

satoru sighs, taking off his helmet and turning in the seat to help you. your leg casually moves on his thigh as he tilts your chin up, undoing the clip. he can feel your eyes on him under the mask, but his own mistakenly drift down to your skirt which was lifted high up your thigh revealing a glimpse of your very soaked panties.

you take the helmet off. your eyes blinking as satoru remains sitting, turning away from you. “let’s go inside, I’m hungry.” you move off the bike as satoru still remains seated ,his hand covering his face. your brow quirks. “satoru.” you move to touch his shoulder when he grabs your wrist. your eyes wide. “woah, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

he lets go, grabbing his helmet and going inside.

sometimes he thanks god that there is no such thing as mind readers. because if their was one, he’d definitely be labeled as a fucking pervert. the image of your panties was imprinted in the front of his brain as he replayed that image over and over. have you ever had sex? your stupid question sent him into a spiral. who’s gonna be the one to see your panties? were they gonna treat you well? would he treat you well? would they peal your panties to the side and see your wet glistening pussy—

“satoru, go make some ramen,” you push him into the kitchen. your arms stretching above your head as you groan. “i had such a long day. I’ll need to get up early tomorrow too. I don’t think i can.”

the way you were talking sounds like you’ve sobered up some more. you were still pretty hyper and in a good mood, which he found interesting. that’s when he finally asked about your date.

“oh it was good. he’s an architecture major. they’re always doing projects and their classes are just as long as my film classes,” satoru hums. “oh i should call my mom. i told her I’d tell her when I’m home.”

satoru doesn’t even respond because you’re stupid date is now on his mind. did you tell him about your projects too? but you usually brainstorm with him. you probably didn’t. you don’t know how to talk to guys anyways. but you still looked to be in a good mood. satoru poured the ramen into two bowls as he dropped a hard boiled egg in each. “here you go.”

he places your bowl in front of you. he glances up and his heart nearly stops.

your eyes are wide as you stare at his phone screen and he knew exactly what you were looking at because he could hear it. the lewd sounds of some girl choking on a guys cock and the squelching of her pussy as she’s getting finger-fucked to tears, even the clap of his palm hitting her pussy rang in his ears and made him see bright pink—

“christ, y/n!” satoru yanks his phone from your grasp as he x’s out. his ears were bright red. as he feels his face unbelievably flushed. “what the hell.”

satoru can’t even bare to look up to see your face and wait to hear your loud laugh. but he still does. his eyes go wide.

you’re not laughing. your eyes were down as you stared at your lap and your hands balled into fists around your wet skirt. you looked like the most flustered person in the world. satoru felt another wave of pink wash his face as he stared at you’re flustered face. he can’t remember ever seeing that reaction from you.

“sorry.” you finally mutter. “i was just gonna text my mom. but i opened and um…yea.”

satoru felt even more embarrassed just hearing you explain and apologize.

“it’s fine. just eat.”

he shoves your bowl closer to you as he also starts shoving his face. you awkwardly take the chopsticks and start eating. the sound of your slurping echos in the living room which made your mind wander back to what just happened and the tension only grew. satoru grabbed the remote and turned on the most random show you both have seen before just to fill the awkward silence.

you felt so sober. like the video snapped you back to sanity that even you could process what you’d seen.

“do you watch porn a lot?”

satoru chokes. he coughs violently, glancing at you. “shut up.”

“it’s just a question.” you huff.

satoru keeps his eyes on the tv, “it’s a stupid fucking question.”

“you didn’t even bother swiping out, kinda makes it seem like you watch it a lot.”

“I don’t!” satoru’s face is bright red, almost flaring so bright he might catch on fire. you feel overwhelmed seeing him like this, especially when he runs a hand through his hair almost pulling at it.

but a few more minutes pass. after you finish your food. the next episode playing, and you open your mouth again.

“she kinda looks like me..”

“huh?”

“the girl in the video kinda looks like me.”

satoru snickers, loudly. you narrow your eyes. “no she doesn’t.”

“ya she does, her hair is the same and she’s the same size as me too-“

satoru rolls his eyes shaking his head, what kind of assumption even is that? “her boobs are much bigger than yours.”

“they literally aren’t!”

“oh ya? then prove it!”

“fine!”

it seems that both of you have lost some brain cells, because your arms are pulling at the wet strings of your blouse, tossing it off, leaving you in your tight skimpy black bra. satoru swallows thickly as he feels his cheeks flush again. your skin was damp, and your chest was heaving slightly from the fueled fight.

“same size.”

satoru leans his chin in his hand. eyes looking at your chest. “I can’t see.”

fuck, he really is a pervert. it’s you for crying out loud. just yell at him and call him a fucking weirdo. but instead you’re grumbling and moving your arms behind your back, unclasping the material until your bra is landing on your lap letting your full tits hang out. satoru’s hand envelopes his chin and mouth as he stares. your nipples were pretty, his mouth salivating as they turned hard.

“now you can’t say anything.” you feel warm. you want to cover yourself, but he was staring so hard, he’s never stared this hard before. and at you nonetheless. it was making you feel warm all over.

satoru rubs his chin, his chest was hammering as he felt so fucking confused. you look so fucking hot, and your eyes were not looking away from him.

“satoru?”

“hmm?”

“admit it.”

he grins, “admit what?”

“that the girl looks like me.”

“what girl?”

“the one in the video!” you slap his chest, and he’d slap you back if he didn’t catch the way your boobs bounced slightly from the action.

he leaned forward, hand placed in front as his hand moves to your tit. “the girl in the video doesn’t have this.” his thumb brushes a small mole under your nipple, one that he’s never seen before.

you hold his wrist, confused. you’re always confused, but never about satoru. no he was the only thing you’re ever sure about. you knew everything about him, seriously everything. but you don’t know about his sex life, or that he watches porn, or what kind of face he’s making right now…you didn’t want to admit it, but you liked not knowing something about him.

“what?” your head tilts, wet hair swaying that satoru can’t help but smile nervously.

“you have a couple moles here,” he’s staring up at you. still leaning against his arm. his eyes fall down to your perky tits. “let me…” his words are stopped by his own actions. his lips wrapping around your nipple sucking gently.

you gasp in shock, hand falling behind you as the other touches his shoulder. his lips suck like a greedy baby until it feels like he’s kissing you and swirling his tongue around the bud. “s-satoru…” you gasp in pleasure. “what’re you doing?” your fist tightens on his shirt.

he’s not drunk. but his head is filled with heat, his lips can’t stop attacking your boobs. fuck he loved hearing your little gasp, and sucking your nipple was making him so fucking turned on. he wanted more.

you whine under your breath, gently pushing his shoulder back away from your chest until his lips unattach, leaving a string of spit connecting his lower lip and your nipple. “you’re being weird.” you’re slightly out of breath, especially when you’re staring down at your best friend, his face completely flushed and his eyes darker than usual. “it’s not fair that you’re seeing me like this.”

“you’re the one who wanted to compare,” satoru snickers, sitting up. “are you embarrassed?”

“no.” you frown, moving to cover your tits up but he moves to grab your chin, his thumb caressing your cheek unexpectedly.

“we didn’t finish comparing?”

you raise a brow, only to feel satoru moves his arms around your waist pulling you forward letting you fall back, catching yourself with your arms. “wait, what’re you—satoru!”

fuck. his eyes were big, staring between your spread legs. your panties were still wet and completely transparent that he felt himself grow more pre-cum into his boxers.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wanna change,” he’s almost mumbling, dragging his hands across your thighs, squeezing the flesh making you flush deep. you move a hand to his shoulder again, especially when he leans down, kissing your sternum. it was surreal hearing the sounds of his lips leave wet kisses across your breasts. your legs were spreading unconsciously the more he leaned down, his hand rubbing your thighs.

“you never wear low tops, is it because of your tits?” he laughs against your skin, making your cheeks hot.

“you’re not being fair,” you push him back, sitting up.

he frowns, “what?”

once you’re sat, your hand moves down under his shirt. you immediately feel his abs, your cheeks grow warm as you caresses his skin. “do you jerk off a lot?”

his head falls back. “quit asking about that.”

“why?”

“because I don’t wanna tell you.”

“but why?”

“because!”

“because why?!”

“because it’s fucking nasty, you don’t need to hear it!”

your eyes narrow. his cheeks are red and his own brows are creased together. you lean forward, hand going up his chest, until it rests on his sternum. “you never talk about sex….are you a prude or something?”

his jaw clenches, swallowing thickly as he feels your hand push his shirt up, helping him take it off. seeing your satoru so flustered was making you jittery. since when was he so cute and fucking hot. his body was definitely bigger than the average guy. was he always this big? i mean you were taller when you were younger but he basically hit the ceiling in eighth grade and just got taller since. but for some reason you didn’t notice him building so much muscle. “did you get bigger?”

his eyes stare at every move you’re doing. “ya I guess,” he took up mma earlier this year too for no apparent reason. “you like?”

you hum, “it’s hot.” you eye his firm abs, your legs squeezing together as you watch the way his stomach flexes, your finger circling his nipple.

“shit.” your lips connect with his nipple, sucking gently making him jump. you hum around him in pleasure as he lets you suck for a couple seconds before pulling you off. his face beat red, holding your shoulder back. “what’re you doing??”

“I’m just doing what you did?”

were you really clueless?

“you…” he feels so flustered, the way your cute lips wrapped around his nipple, arching over him as you sucked. “i can only do that.”

“why? i liked it, so i did it to you??” you were annoyed with him. why is he being so confusing? “what—hey!”

his hand covers your eyes because he couldn’t handle the way you’re staring up at him topless and dumb brained. “stop talking.”

“what’re you—“ his lips brush yours, hesitating for a second before kissing you.

you’re frozen, lips part as he continues kissing you. “kiss me back.” he whispers. you feel like burning through your skin as you kiss him back. his hand still over your eyes as he kisses your bottom lip, sucking it, only for you to hold his wrist . fuck you’re so submissive.

you pull away, lips wet as you remove his hand. his eyes flick down to your chest as you stare up at him.

“how was it?”

your cheeks are so cute and full, and he almost has to bite his tongue when you lean forward and hold his face. “another one.”

ah fuck. his lips crash into yours again. it was messier this time. your lips felt so inexperienced against his, but feeling your tongue try and play with him and follow his lead had him yearning for more. you’re so cute. his hand moves to grab your boob again, squeezing it in his palm as you whine, hand moving up to grab his fluffy hair. “ach…toru,” you pant, catching your breath. “I like kissing.”

“i bet.”

you’re still panting, lips grazing his again as you move closer to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “have you kissed anyone before?”

why’re you asking him these questions?!

“it doesn’t matter.”

you’re so drunk off his lips that you kiss him again and again. his arms move to wrap around you, hoisting you on his lap as you pant, hands holding his cheeks as he feels your ass. his mind was going crazy as his palms groped you. your cheeks were so soft as he kneaded the flesh.

you wanted more….why have you never experienced this before? and satoru was here the whole time. if you knew he would be here you should’ve brought it up sooner. wait…what’re you thinking? should you be doing this? this isn’t something you should do with him—

“satoru,” your arms wrap around his shoulders, face hot as you press yourself against his chest. dodging his lips so it connects with your cheek.

he groans, the deep low rumble making you flush. “don’t turn away from me.” he huffs, grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks together.

you squirm, hitting his forearm as you shake your head, but he just laughs. “stoph hit.” he laughs even more as you talk with your cheeks squished until you start pulling his hair, hard.

“ack!” he winces as you tug harshly making him loosen his grip on your face and reach for his head. you’re laughing, until you feel something hard between your legs.

your face bursts with heat as you freeze. satoru grunts, yanking your wrist from his hair. he then notices your tense body, your eyes looking down at your seat. he immediately realizes what’s going on and feels more heat rush to his head. “are you gonna do something?”

your words had him staring at you with wide eyes. “oh um ya.”

he does a cautious roll of his hips, pushing his bulge against your wet panties, the feeling wasn’t foreign. you’ve touched yourself more than once, but it definitely was different. you had more of a reaction, especially as you smelled his aroma. you’ve never been affected by his scent till now. you remember all through middle school when you’d both finish soccer practice, but satoru reeked like no other. especially when he’d come back from jujutsu practice in high school and would purposely bother you. however seeing his face so flush now, and the small beads of sweats sent a new kind of pleasure flooding between your legs.

“can you take your pants off?”

his throat bobs as he hums lifting his hips up as you move to sit next to him watching him shuffle out of his cargo pants. your eyes focused on the prominent outline of his dick through his boxers. he turns back after discarding the annoying material, his breath catches.

you looked so flustered.

his mind was recalibrating. is this a good idea? will this ruin your friendship?

“I’ll take mine off too.” you mutter, only for satoru to almost faint. his hand stretching out to hold your wrist. you glance up, and he immediately realizes how confusing this ordeal is and he doesn’t care. his lips attack yours again. the moan that comes from the back of your throat has him groaning. he cradles your head, tongue playing with yours as you whine, touching his chest as you feel his muscles under your palm. it was electric, the chills that broke across your body as the sudden pulse between your legs the more satoru’s hands squeezed and caressed.

“spread your legs.”

you obey so easily you’re immediately embarrassed. cheeks hot as you stare up at satoru as he licks his lips. your hands fall on your chest, tummy warm as he trails his palm down until his finger plays with the waistband of your panties.

he glances up. “why didn’t you wear any shorts?”

“they were in the laundry…” you flush. satoru hums, still fiddling with your panties, the tension rising even more. you moved to close your legs, but he pushes his body between them, preventing you from achieving your goal. his arm wraps around one of your legs, hoisting it up on his shoulder and kissing your calf.

why the fuck?! your skin broke into a hot mess, eyes dizzy as his thumb caressed your clothed pussy, as he left kisses up your legs. his thumb pushing your transparent panties between your wet folds, smiling at the squeak you let out once he found your clit. “ya look so dumb.” he laughs, making you huff — you cover your face, but his hand reflectively catches your wrist pulling it down.

“you just made fun of me.”

“it was a joke.” he sighs, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “i was just joking, idiot.”

you scoff, moving your hand to grab his hair until he catches it again. your brows pinch in annoyance. why is he suddenly using his strength against you? he’s never like that. satoru liked being messed with, and now that you’re thinking about it, he’s manhandled you a couple times without you even noticing. but why are you suddenly aware of it now?

satoru’s eyes narrow once you turn your face away, closing your eyes. “what the hell?”

“what?”

“why’re you looking away?”

“your face is ugly.”

he scoffs, “so why am I staring at you?”

“cuz im not ugly.”

he laughs loud. “as if.” he notices the vein popping in your head. “lemme see that ugly face.”

his hand grabs your face, once again, forcing you to look at him against your will, your eyes remained shut, so he decided to lean even closer, and lick your eye.

“ew, satoru!” your eyes blink open as you try to wipe your eye, but satoru can only lick your cheek then. even spitting. “what the hell?!” you whine as he continues to litter your face with his salvia. the licks turn into very wet kisses as he licks your ear and cheek, biting your bottom lip and running his tongue over it. you’re initial disgust oddly and quickly, morphes into surprising pleasure. your nails scratching his undercut, dragging them to his damp curls as he grunts in pleasure.

his hips start to rock into you again, it felt even better without his pants. he felt like a dog, so desperate for relief, but also finding more pleasure in the slow burn of it.

“you’re so disgusting,” you sigh into his lips.

his lips curl, “fine by me.” his tongue laps at your lips dramatically, making you flush because you weren’t disgusted by it. “not gonna push me off?” he chuckles.

“no,” you sigh, holding his neck as you pull him to your lips again. your tongue sticks out as he smiles, licking yours as he lets a small amount of spit go into your mouth. you tug his hair, but not in the usual way.

his judgement now completely clouded, he suddenly pushes his body up and grabs your legs easily. your lower half is on his lap giving him easy access to bury his face between your legs.

you gasp, back arching in surprise. “satoru!” you cry, eyes wide as he pushes your panties to the side, kissing your folds. what the fuck is this look? he looked completely hypnotized. eyes drunk as his tongue pushed between your folds, licking a bold strip up to your clit, making your whole body shudder.

“did ya learn this from p-porn?” you gasp, pushing his hair back as he moans into your pussy. your arousal fills his tastebuds as he slurps more.

“stop asking about that.” he groans, especially when you start tugging his hair, but instead of his usual annoyed face, his eyes flutter shut, the tugging egging him on. “taste so good.” he moans, pushing his tongue into your pussy hole as his nails dig into your thighs. the sounds of his lips against your pussy were lewd. your eyes fluttering shut as you felt something inside you. your pussy was drenched, the sweet taste of your arousal coating satoru’s tongue filling his head. his best friend tastes like heaven!

“sa-ah-toru—more, ungh ngh more,” you whine, tugging his hair harder as you buck your hips to meet his lips, eyes hazy as you gasp, moans getting a little more high pitched as satoru sucks your clit into his mouth. he was being greedy, hearing you cry out loudly, pulling his hair hard until you cum.

your legs shake as you press his face against your pussy, feeling him groan, not realizing he was looking at you the entire time until you’re pushing his head back.

“fuck, you’re mean,” he groans rubbing his head from the harsh tugging. your chest is heaving as you stare up at the ceiling. you’ve never cum that hard when you touched yourself. “y/n?”

satoru moves into your line of vision. his face flushed as he stares down at you. his mouth and chin covered in your juices making your pussy clench. fuck his dick really hurts. your hand reaches up, and satoru leans down licking your palm as you wipe the mess off his face. “you’re such a dog,” you tsk. his eyes lighting up as he leans down, kissing your neck.

“but you’re the one being such a good girl,” his words sent a red hot blaze pierce through your veins.

your hand moves to your face covering your mouth as you look away. “s-shut up, dog.”

satoru’s eyes go dark, you were so fucking hot. his arms easily lift your legs up, pulling your skirt and panties off, tossing them aside. you glance up, heart beating rapidly, he was pushing his boxers down—

what the fuck.

s-satoru was big.

fuck, why was he so big?? your tummy felt hot as you reach for his neck. “sat—“ his tongue pushes into your lips, swallowing your words as he pumps his cock, wincing slightly as he drags his tip between your folds making you gasp.

“wrap your arms around me.”

his command was easily obeyed, and in seconds, his arm wraps under your ass lifting you both up. you press your cheek to his as you pant. “he really is strong”.

“i know,” he laughs, making you speechless at the cockiness. fuck he really is a dick. satoru is kissing you nonstop. eyes open as he makes his way to his bathroom, leaning you on the counter, arm still around your waist as he rummages through the cabinet and ripping open the condom box. it was messy. he falls back on the ground where your clothes are and rips the condom open.

“you’re so fucking wet,” he points pushing his tip inside without warning. he’s kneeling with spread legs, holding your thigh and lower back angling your hips up. this was unlike anything ever.

your throat is dry, full of shocked gasps and surprised moans. “w-wait…” your lashes flutter, chest heaving as you stare up at your best friend. “you wanna have sex with me?”

satoru snorts, nails digging into your flesh as he leans over, bending you up so he can be up in your space. “i know you’re slow, dummy.” he bites your cheek. “but we’re both naked right now. I just sucked on your fat tits, and my dick is really fucking hard because of you so ya, we’re gonna have sex.”

“ookay.”

satoru melts.

he buries his face in your neck. your heart beating quicker as he turns his face to your neck as you feel his lips move. “one word?”

“ya. I wanna do it.” satoru trails his lips to your ear. his breath was hot and heavy especially with his annoying dick poking its tip on your clit.

“do you wanna do it with me?”

you can’t pinpoint the reason your heart skipped a beat. but you hum to his question. “please.” you roughly tug his hair up, a groan escapes his lips as he sits up, grabbing your thigh and dragging his cock between your folds. his eyes are laser focused on the first stretch of your hole, pushing his pink tip inside.

you squirm, head turning at the painful stretch. satoru however groans in absolute pleasure, your soft walls squeezing him so beautifully. “fuck you’re amazing.” your tits heave, hand holding his wrist as he drags his cock out and back in. your body feels hot as satoru starts fucking his hips faster, the pace picking up making your body squirm as you whimper.

“s…slow—slow please—“ you reach for his bicep, eyes wide as you feel the stretch sting, a shock running up your spine.

“you’ve never liked anything slow before,” his devilish smile makes you dizzy. you knew satoru was a cocky bastard, but seeing him like this was making your mind cloudy. but he still slides his hand below to the dimple of your lower back, smiling the second he pressed into it making your back arch like a button. “ha good girl.”

“satoru!” you moan out as you feel him slide deeper, his words were mean, like always, but his touch was gentle and intimate.

how else would he handle you? he wasn’t even conscious of it, because he always handled you with care. your soft skin like smooth glass, your whimpers like soft melodies — he wanted to hear you more clearly, his best friend that sounds so fucking hot whimpering and crying because of him. he leaned back lifting your legs up as he kissed your inner knee, pressing his cheek against your leg as he watched the drag of his fat cock disappear into his childhood friends pussy.

your eyes were big and full of bliss as he thrusted into you. your pussy sucking him in with each clap, as he groans. fuck you were beautiful to look at. you pussy crying as he hammered himself deeper into you, his mind going hazy as he saw another side of you. one so intimate it was only fitting for him to see.

“ngh ugh, wha-toru, I’m gonna c-cum!” a sudden glint shot in his eyes, your moans making his stomach flip with excitement as he smiled so big you crashed out.

“s-shit!” he swore loudly— you cried, squeezing him to death as you shook with pleasure. satoru released the coil he was holding back, filling the condom with his hot seed. “didn’t think you’d cum that fast.” he chuckled, pulling out and wrapping the condom and tossing it to the side. you were panting, but you felt his arm lift your legs up, staring down at your messy hole.

he slid your body to the side, it was embarrassing how easy he handles your body. you were a heaving mess, not realizing he was rubbing his raw cock between your folds again. until he grunts a gentle… “take it again.”

your hand shoots out grabbing his forearm, your nails digging into his skin as you gasp, cheeks flush as you look up at him and your breath fucking catches. his cheeks were just as flushed, his chest sweaty and hair pushed back as he gripped your thighs, with one single muscular arm, keeping your legs together and to the side as he kept his own big thighs spread apart as he pressed his still erect dick against you. has he always been this hot?

“you wanna take it again, right?” satoru rests his cheek against your legs, hugging them close like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“h-how can you go again?” you pant, still holding his arm as you glance away from him. suddenly feeling embarrassed by his unwavering gaze.

satoru slides his engorged tip past your folds, rubbing his pre-cum with your slick. “because i thought about being inside you again…” his jaw clenches as pushes in feeling you squirm again. “and ngh fuck it made me wanna fuck you again. feel you clench around me raw.”

you choke as he slides deeper than before. “I wanna see ugh if i can put it-it all in this time—fuck!” satoru throws his head back as he pushes in your tight fucking pussy. keeping your legs together like this was making you even tighter and it felt so delicious.

“y-you put it in before—“

“not all of it, pretty.”

even though your childhood friend’s dick is currently inside you, pulsing and stretching you out in ways you couldn’t even imagine, the thing that made your skin break into a hot mess was hearing that one silly nickname. “shit, you’re squeezing me to death, pretty girl,” satoru chokes as you clench around him again. “fuck.”

you’re burying your face to the side, face hot as satoru grips your legs, abs clenching as he feels your gummy walls tighten around him. “s-shut up.”

his eyes flick over to your turned face. “wh-what?” his jaw is clenched as he grunts again, jamming his cock deeper making you claw at your shirt on the floor. “fuck-you’re fucking tight, baby.”

your hand goes up to his face, covering his mouth as you squeeze around him again and that’s when the realization dawns on his flushed face.

you feel a devilish smile form under your hand which drops when he pulls out, grabbing your legs and hoisting them up. he slides his entire length in causing your arm to fall. he grabs your wrist, swearing with a smile as he pants. “what is it, pretty?”

“d-don’t!” your eyes flutter , as you try to turn your face again but his grip on your wrist was tight as he pulls out, glancing down at the slick that fully coats the base of his throbbing cock, and pushing it back inside you hearing the squelch. he starts to pick up an even pace that sends shocks of pleasure through your body.

“ah fuck, you’re such an idiot,” satoru grunts, leaning down as he fucks you harder, the claps of his thighs meeting your ass made your head spin. his hand slid to hold your cheek the drool coating his palm as he turned your face over. “ah..aha ya that’s it.” he felt your hot breath fan right on his face as he stared at how pretty you are letting him fuck you. and you were getting soo turned on by silly nicknames, your pussy felt even sweeter. “cmon, praise me too. ngh tell me how much ya like it, baby.”

“i-i like it,” you gasp, whining when he pushed one leg down and holding one up to his chest fucking you deep. “angh tor-u fuck I like it—I like it!—you’re dick is fucking me so good! angh so big—“

you can’t even register the fact that you’re climaxing until you were gasping in his kisses. “you’re so hot when you cum, pretty girl.” your thighs clench together as he drools in your kiss until you’re meeting his same energy and force. his kisses were so messy and mean, like you were going to disappear, but his hand cradled the back of your head like his most precious thing. you whine in his mouth, hand going to wrap around his shoulders. “easy,” he sighs, once again handling you gently as he turns you around, kissing your shoulder as he keeps a secure arm around your waist, right under your tits.

“j-just tell me to turn,” you heave, chest rising and falling as you come down from the previous orgasms. you feel satoru smile as he rests his cheek on your shoulder looking up at you as you glance down.

“but you’re just my dumb pretty girl. I haveta do everything for ya. ain’t that right?” you glare at him, of course he’s still a fucking smartass. but still it makes your cheeks hot and your eyes roll. “no comeback?”

“you want me to say something?”

satoru smiles, kneeing your legs apart as he presses his leaky dick against your pussy. “my name wouldn’t be bad..,.angh haha there we go, you’re so sensitive,” he chuckles feeling your pussy flutter against his tip.

your arm holds his as you squirm. “fuck, angh why are you so big?”

“you almost sound like you’re complaining?”

you whine as he pushes in again, the stretch was fucking thrilling, “because I amm!”

“ah!” you yell, the spank to your clit pulsing. “what the fuck!” you glare at him, and he breaks into a laugh as he kisses your neck, his tongue running in circles as he pushes his painfully hard cock even deeper, groaning as he slaps your clit again to be even more mean.

“ahh!” you cry, nails digging into the forearm under your tits. your pussy was twitching like crazy, gripping him much tighter than before, clearly sensitive from the abuse he was giving your poor swollen clit. “s-satoru, stop hitting it.”

“holy fuck, you feel like heaven,” he continues to play with your clit no longer slapping it, but rubbing harsh circles and occasionally pinching it to invoke a deathly squeeze that left his entire body shaking from the edging.

your eyes begin to cross as he starts going faster again, his pace was always building up, but he was going for much longer than you were expecting. his arm moved up, grabbing a handful of your tits as he scratched and twisted your nipple making you cry, head falling back on his shoulder.

“just like that, babygirl,” he laughed, bouncing you on his dick as you grow dumber by the second. “my dumb baby! fuck your pussy is so good!” your juices coat his thighs and balls, it was so cute how much of a mess you were making.

your head is spinning at the relief and pleasure coursing through your veins.

“ngh fuck, toru, you’re so big, faster—pleaseplease…nghh ha ha!” you were absolutely delirious.

satoru was fucking pussy whipped, his cock hurt with the edging he was doing, slowling the pace when he’d feel himself about to cum, then picking it up again to make you cum on his dick. he was selfish. very much so that he needed you on every level, including this, and he didn’t even realize how starved he was until he got a taste of you.

“scream my name, shit—I’m gonna cum, fuck wanna fill you up!” satoru’s deep grunts and moans was fucking hypnotizing,

your insides tightening, stomach clenching as you cry, turning your face to kiss him. it was messy, and barely a kiss as you moaned into his mouth, tears running down your face as you felt his fat cock start to twitch and grow inside you, every vein sliding against your walls as he holds you up with his strong arm.

“come on—cmon hngh cum with me,” satoru was shaking as he held you unbelievably close fucking his hips even harsher and faster the clapping filled your ears until he started groaning loudly.

“satoru!”

he couldn’t even register what happened.

the relief that burst in white ropes filled his soul. his drawn out groan became hiccups as he groaned with each thrust into your tight fucking pussy, feeling more ropes of his hot white cum spill into your tight walls, his cock engulfed by sticky warmth as you shook.

“fuck me,” his presses his face into your neck as he shakes, his balls tightening as you squeeze around him. “shit, too much.” he whimpers. only to realize how limp your body is. “baby?” his arms relax around you, only for you to fall back into his chest, “shit.” he holds you up, his hand coming up to your face, slapping your cheek lightly trying to wake you back up. “open your eyes,” he continues slapping you until you’re blinking. “there we go.”

“wha—ah,” you jump at the sticky mess. your insides making you squeeze around him as satoru held your face to the side looking at him. “what happened?”

“you passed out is what,” he looked angry. your lips frown. “did you feel me cumming inside ya?”

your face burns. “what the hell?!”

“did you??”

“shut up, oh my god,” you groan, flustered by the question. but he doesn’t stop, instead he lifts you off him, his soft cock sliding out as more cum oozes out of your hole, but instead of placing you down, he keeps you up, arm hooked under your legs, as his free hand cups your pussy, shoving two fingers deep inside.

“wait!” you cry, shaking as satoru starts fingering his cum back inside, making you cry out. “I said wait! I can’t—satoru,” you cry out, nails digging into his arm as you feel him press his thumb against your clit until you’re shaking with pleasure.

“fucking dumped so much cum in you and you weren’t even conscious for it,” satoru grunts, he really sounded annoyed, but you didn’t care, because you were coming undone, legs shaking as you suddenly felt a new feeling start to come over you.

“sa—toru—wait wait!—angh!” you’re entire body shakes, as your pussy squirts aggressively. satoru’s eyes grow wide, hand drenched. “what the fuck,” you cry, covering your face as satoru puts you down, rubbing your pussy gently.

“fuck you,” you slap his arm hard. your chest heaving and your legs shaking, as you keep them closed.

“you just squirted.”

“ew shut up,” you’re beyond embarrassed. that’s not a flex. you just made a mess! but your best friend didn’t look upset, especially as he loomed over you, his eyes looking over every inch of your body. his hand coming up to rub your belly. “you better only do that for me.”

“weirdo,” you cover your chest but he pushes your arms open, hand gropping your boobs. “you really like my boobs?”

“hmm.”

satoru leans down, tongue falling open to suck on your tits again. “if only there was milk.”

“the fuck! oh my god,” you slap his head, making him laugh, but continues sucking. his hips roll slightly, put you manage to reach a hand down to grab his semi hard cock, he moans around your nipple. his cock was sticky but you didn’t mind, it made you blush just holding it, you were holding your best friends dick and he was moaning. you whine as satoru sinks his teeth into your nipple as you squeeze his tip, thumb pressing on his slit as you pump it. his fingers slide back to your pussy, playing with your fat lips and then your bundle, his fingers getting coated in his cum.

after a few seconds satoru pulled his lips away, a long string of spit fell as he sat up, moving your hand as he aggressively pumped his dick in front of your face.

you were mesmerized. his face was red as he shook like crazy, his abs were clenched, every muscle of his body flexing, his thighs were apart and you could see his heavy balls shake, he was completely overstimulated, was he going to come on your face? your boobs? please you wanted a taste. but instead he pushed your legs open—

“wait no—Im too full! angh!!”

satoru slammed his cock back inside your pussy and came right there. his cock bursting cum as you cried, closing your knees together squeezing him as you felt his cum fill your tummy up. satoru fell on top of you, his body shaking as he buried his face in your neck. his body jumping more cum into you as he whimpered.

“you’re so warm, did you feel me cum?”

“mhm,” you sniffle, the warmth inside you sent flutters around your head. you loved it. his cock inside you, his cum filling your insides, how selfish he was being. “do you like it when girls feel your cum?”

satoru rolls off you, his hand sliding down to hold his oozing cock, as you roll to your side when he ignores you. “satoruuuuu.”

“what?”

“how many girls have you cum in?” satoru covers his face with his arm. you sit up, leaning over his body. “why’re you ignoring me?”

“because it doesn’t matter.”

“but why?” you frown. “was I not good? I literally took so much of your cum!” satoru’s face goes bright red. “you never talk to me about your sex life-“

“because I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable!” he tries to turn away but you press both arms down on his chest, moving to sit on top of him, fighting to push his arms away. but it was useless, so you move your face under his arm, tongue licking his lips making him squirm, and finally releasing his arm so you were kissing him. all wet and messy just like you like it. “why do you care about my sex life?”

you look down at him, his eyes trying to find answers in yours. “because…i don’t know anything about it.”

“so?”

you frown. “do you not wanna know about my sex life?”

satoru smirks. “i already know this is your first time. you have nice tits and a tight pussy. you like it when i bite your nipples. you also get turned on when i spit—“

“stop,” you cover his mouth, face so hot. “w-well, why do you get to know everything?”

“because you’re my best friend.” he smiles, leaning up, hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you to his lips. you whine, kissing him deeply as you press your hand to his chest. why is your best friend so skilled?

“I want to know everything about you, too,” you mutter. “i wanna know why you watch porn. why you don’t talk about sex? I’m not stupid—“

“I’ve only had sex a few times. barely,” he groans. “I stopped because it’s not fun. and it’s your fault.”

“what!!” you jump back.

“every time i realize the girls don’t have hair like yours, or boobs like yours…I get turned off…happy?”

your stomach is flipping as you look at your best friend. his face is red and his eyes are darting everywhere else.

“say something,”

“don’t ever say that with a straight face. you’re so fucking weird.” you’re burying your face in your hands. “that’s not even a real answer.”

“whatever,” he squeezes your waist. “you’re just jealous I’m more skilled than you.”

“what? you came just as fast as i did the first round.” you glare at him.

satoru licks his teeth leaning back on his palms, his head cocked to the side. it was almost a crime how hot he looked right now. “at least I didnt squirt all over my friends carpet.”

your face bursts to flames as you slap his chest. “what the fuck!” you’re so embarrassed, moving to get off him, but he only holds you down.

“I’m kidding! It’s a joke—“

“it’s not funny,” you squirm in his grip. why is he so strong?!

“I like that your pussy gushed for me,” he kisses your hot cheek. “it’s hot. I definitely hit the jackpot.” his lips kiss your neck repeatedly, as you heart beats a little faster.

the reality of what just happened was a process. your mind not even fully realizing what you’d just done even as after you took turns showering, or when satoru tossed your clothes in the washing machine, or when you laid on his bed as he brushed his teeth, or when he crawled behind you, pressing himself into your back.

“we should probably talk some more in the morning.” his low voice sent shivers down your spine as you hum. “just tell me now if you’re happy your first was with me.”

your heart thumps a little louder, almost afraid he can hear. you can feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his hold around your waist loosening when you don’t respond.

“i am…”

his body relaxes.

“good.”

tomorrow was a mystery and you didn’t know if the pit in your stomach was guilt or fear. guilt that you don’t know if you just used your best friend for sex, or fear that you might actually have a different kind of feeling for someone you’ve known your whole life.

a/n: sorry i fell off the face of the earth, im kinda tryna to figure stuff out. i wrote this in Aug/sept but just wrapped it up now so i hope u guys enjoy <3 and happy holidays!!

CHOKE ME BITE ME!!

cw ; sub!dazai, fem!reader, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe), slight degradation(she calls him a freak and a slut), not proofread

a/n ; no I didn't write this to distract from wicked games idk what ur talking abt.

Dazai hates pain. At least that's what he tells everyone, but you knew otherwise. Well, if the way he was writhing with your hand around his throat had anything to do with it.

“mmfph! Baby I– hngh– need more– c’mon, please-” he begged, bucking his hips up into your sweet cunt, desperate for more friction that you refused to offer. You clicked your tongue, applying more pressure to his throat, cutting off his oxygen.

“You're a freak, Osamu– getting off to this?” You questioned, emphasizing your point by wrapping your other hand around his pretty neck. His cock twitched against your cervix at the action, tossing his head back with a choked moan. “Yes– please– haah– I need more, please move–”

You'd be lying if you said that having a man like Dazai plead beneath you didn't flip a switch. A satisfied hum bubbled in the back of your throat as you raised your hips enough to his tip before slamming down on him.

“Aargh! Fuck! Don't– don't stop, please-” He cried, his jaw clenching from pleasure. You wish you had your phone to take a picture, he looked breathtaking. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head, hair matted to his forehead, and your lipstick smeared all over his lips. Maybe another time.

“Don't you– fuck– dare cum ‘til I say so, y'damn slut.” You breathed, chasing your release as the coil in your tummy tightened. His hands were holding onto your hips for dear life, there will definitely be marks there tomorrow. You could feel his Adam's apple bob beneath your fingers, a reminder of your previous actions.

Dazai whined for another minute or so, his rambles coming to an end. He was trying not to give away the fact his orgasm was creeping up on him. You could have laughed if he wasn't rearranging your guts right now. However, he still needed too–

“Please, lemme cum– needa– fuuuck– cum inside you, baby–” How could you resist when he asked so nicely? You swallowed thickly as you grew closer to the edge, giving him a brief nod before sinking your teeth into his pale shoulder and grasping his neck tighter than before.

He planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you to meet your hips, tearing a moan from your throat. His length slid against your gooey walls, hitting your sweet spots with easy precision. "'samu–! 'm gonna cum– fuck!"

"F-fuck, feels s'good– y'er pussy– haah– feels s'good, so tight, shit!" He cried out, your back arching as his thumb found your clit and drew tight circles on the bud. Your back arched, a broken moan slipping past your lips. "C'mon, cum with me– hnngh– please-"

He always ended up getting his way. It wasn't even a minute later that he was filling your cunt with his hot load, his own orgasm triggering your own. "Osamu– haah fuck!" Your hands finally freed his throat and your jaw fell slack as you reached your release.

Black spots clouded your vision for a moment before you fell limp on his chest, panting heavily as the afterglow settled. His breathing could be heard over your own, a telltale of his need for oxygen. You glanced up at him, his cheeks red and eyes closed as he caught his breath.

"'samu, I didn't–" "No, you didn't go overboard, 'donna." He cut you off, his voice a bit hoarse from your precious endeavors. Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered open, meeting yours with a soft yet rare look. "I promise."

You took the reassurance with a smile, however, you were suddenly flipped over by Dazai, a hungry look in his eyes. "Now, let's see how much power you have with me on top this time."

hold me, touch me, love me

Characters: Aaron Warner x fem!reader (established relationship)

I imagine reader and Aaron being in their 20s

Genre: SMUT, fluff (just you and aaron being hopelessly in love with each other)

Warnings: SMUT, Unprotected sex (please always be safe), mentions of fingering and oral (f!receiving), a little bit of doggy style at the end, edging (sort of…), cursing, lots of kissing, Aaron being a tease, Aaron Warner (yeah, he’s a warning himself)

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I think I sort of got carried away. Had to write this one because Restore Me constantly mentioned about Aaron’s “breathless gasps” and I know sounds beautiful. I’m hella embarrassed so there’s a chance I might delete this later. Also, beautiful header credits goes to @/cafekitsune !

I’m writing smut for the first time as well. In general, please be nice and respectful to me and everyone.

I hope you enjoy! :) Please do LIKE, comment or reblog if you enjoy ❤️

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ ONLY.

It was late at night when the two of you indulged yourself in the stillness of the late hours, the darkness enveloping you from the world as Aaron kisses you, holding you flush against his body as you pulled away for air but immediately latched your lips against his defined jaw. His five o'clock shadow tickled your cheeks a little which made you smile against his skin.

Your lips traced his soft skin, sucking and nibbling on spots to ease the pain but in fact it was only making Aaron breathless. A sharp gasp escaped his lips when your teeth slightly grazed the soft spot on his neck, his hold on your hips tightening. Aaron couldn't handle the heat and need to taste you so bad. His fingers tugged on your hair to pull you away from his neck. The action made a moan escape your lips which made Aaron stare at you with hooded eyes; palest shade of emerald irises filled with utmost love and an emotion you were too shy to consider, desire pooling. His lips found yours, hands travelling up and down your body, feeling you up in an intoxicating way.

The way he kisses you, marking your heart and soul made you both feel like there was no neccesity for air. As if you could relinquish oxygen for this. This felt like the best way to go. It was a constant reminder that even after all the wonders and surprises the world could offer, moments like these were always different, always so memorable. Each touch, each sound, each action tattooing in your hearts and souls.

Both of your hearts raced in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat elevated, the rapid sound of it droning in your ears. He gently placed your hand to let it rest atop his chest, just above his heart. And your eyes stinged with emotion. His was thundering against his chest so loud he was sure you could hear it.

Aaron felt your needy hands travel through the expanse of his torso, tracing his broad chest to his abdomen, heated skin on fire wherever your fingers traced as you reached down to pull him even closer by his belt. He felt shivers down his spine, each touch of yours sending him on a tingling edge, a high he never wanted to come down from. Your hands tugged desperately at his shirt, unbuttoning each button quickly and before you know it, he has already taken it off, pulling away to breath for air. The heat and tension between the two of you clouded your senses, lips chasing his in an attempt to close the distance.

Aaron flashes you a breathtaking smile, dimples and a flush of pink painting his cheeks and he looked so beautiful, so adorable, so enchanting that it made you stop for a moment and marvel at the man in front of you. Aaron was stunning, a dream, someone so amazing inside out. How is he so beautiful?

You probably said those words out loud because he chuckled lightly, the sound tugging at your heartstrings, "You give me too much credit, sweetheart. But thank you so much. It means so much to me hearing that from you."

"Well I'm just stating the truth."

"Mhm, is that so?"

He bites his lower lip to stop a giggle but nevertheless his lips still tugged up with a smile before his hands wraps around your waist and the back of your neck, lips locking with yours hungrily. Aaron pulls your clothed self to his warm body, closer beyond possibilty. You nibbled on his lower lip before opening up for him. You could feel the hard ridges, dips of his muscles, chest heaving with each intake of air, compelling you to touch the smooth skin of his flawless chest. He gently pushes you back, backing away until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fall backwards, pulling him with you.

The moment causes you both to break the kiss, pulling a smile from the both of you. Aaron leans down to kiss you deeply again, an audible 'mm' escapes his lips at the blissful meeting of your lips with his, the sound making heat pool at your abdomen.

His eyes would occasionally open up a little to look at your reactions, to see if there's any sign discomfort from you. When he found none, he intertwined your hands together, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

Your hands finds solace on his broad shoulders this time, fingers travelling down his bare chest, so warm and firm, his skin soft as your fingers traced valleys and rivers at every dip and curve of his defined muscles. He visibly relaxed under your touch, his free hand reaching down to cup your cheek. Aaron moaned quietly when your fingers caressed his abs, shuffling to cup him from the pants, outline evident through his desire and need for you. His lips part against yours in a soft moan when your fingers teased his clothed length which caused him to involuntarily grind against your hand, making him break the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning the pants. Slipping your hand inside, you started stroking his length in a painstakingly slow motion. He hummed, biting his lips when your thumb pressed on his tip, his eyes blinding with pleasure. Aaron was sure that he was losing his mind, pleasure blurring the edges between reality and an euphoric dream. He stopped your movements when he started feeling too good, white hot pleasure shooting up his veins. He was so close but he wanted to finish with you, inside of you.

He could feel your heat, your need to have him close against you and he has been right there with you; hands fumbling with your jeans desperately. Your actions and need for him left him intoxicated, head fuzzing out all thoughts out of his mind but you, you, you. It felt addicting, unreal, impossible to him that you want him as much as he wants you. So close, so much that it felt unfathomable to thread it through vocabulary.

His lips kissed your jaw, down to your collarbone as he marked you, smiling against your skin at the moans and whimpers of his name you let out.

When he felt your fingers reach his pants to unbuckle his belt all the way to pull him out, he broke away and held both your wrists in one hand. A smooth, unbelievably attractive smirk etched on his lips, "Not so quickly, sweetheart. I have to remove these restraints from yours first. It's not fair that you're fully clothed. "

And soon you found yourself and him naked to each others eyes.

Aaron knelt between your legs in all his glory, chest heaving up and down, a trickle of sweat trailing down his cheek as he held his cock, stroking and squeezing it tight all the while staring at you, intensive gaze filled with so much passion that it felt like he could light your insides on fire. He let go of torturing himself further and hovered above you, one hand caressing the skin of your hips and the other resting beside your head.

He is breathtaking in every way possible. You really need him inside you. But the way he was looking at you, so passionately, gaze filled with unbridled emotions, like he could see right through you. You felt bare underneath him in more ways than one. You almost felt a little self conscious for a moment before his fingers found your weeping entrance, teasing you and never breaking eye contact. And in the stillness of the hour, in the private whispers of the late night breeze Aaron swore, "You are a freaking goddess, baby.”

You moaned, it was impossible to hold yourself; first, his teasing fingers and then the way he was looking at you made you close your eyes just so that you could hold onto your sanity before you let go, before you let your wants devour this man on top of you. His eyes too intense, irises pooling with deepening emotions. Also, he rarely swore but he let go in the moment, too careless to worry about what he was even saying anymore, which was a plus.

His lips kissed down your body, your skin on fire wherever his lips traced invisible lines on your frame. Aaron kissed you in the most sensitive areas, a gasp leaving your lips as your fingers immediately buried in his hair, holding him as if to ground yourself to this moment. He nipped, sucked, ate you out in such a way that you were struggling to breath, one hand clutching the comforter so tight that you were sure it would tear off. The gasping, the heavy breathing, you losing yourself in pleasure made Aaron lose himself in the beauty of your chase. It was an auto pilot response, the way his hips started grinding against the comforter for some friction but you caught on.

"Aaron, I— ah, wait— I see you! Don't you dare! I want to touch you and come with you— " You were cut off when he gently bit the skin under your thigh.

He stopped his movements and stared up at you, his chin glistening in the dim lighting of your room, eyes taunting and teasing in a way that made you clench around nothing, "Oh yeah?"

This side of Aaron Warner has always felt new to you, exclusively and only for you. That teasing gaze filled with mischief and ideas you could only wonder. If he could, he would tease you forever, edging himself and you to the point where later he ends up driving his hips into you to a state of oblivion.

Hard and merciless and heavenly and gentle is Aaron Warner.

"Aaron, please — "

"Please what, baby?" You could hear the smile in his voice. He let go of your thighs to climb up your frame. His thumb tugged at your lower lip,  "Look at me, sweetheart. Talk to me."

Aaron could be such a tease that sometimes it made you want to yank his hair out but you knew better. He loves his hair too much so you wouldn't do that ever.

You huffed, eyes still clenched shut, “Need you inside me.”

“Look at me first.” Aaron's voice dropped, husky and seductive, commanding to some degree which pulled you into a trance like the angelic devil he is. So alluring, so seductive.

You opened your eyes to see him scanning your features, tracing from your eyebrows to your eyes, resting a little longer at your lips. But he willed himself to look back up at you.

“I want to touch you, Aaron. Can I?” You asked what you initially wanted before the said confession, chest heaving up and down rapidly as your hands traced his bicep.

Aaron simply smiled, that dimple one, “You don’t even have to ask, love. I’m all yours.” He kisses your nose gently. But when you sat up to touch him, he held your shoulders, “But not today, okay? I really need to be inside you.” His voice was feather soft, caressing your cheek in assurance. He felt a little worried about your reaction but when you saw the look in his eyes, you nodded eagerly and settled down back on the sheets.

“Now tell me what you want me to do.”

You almost choked on air, sputtering, “Wha– you already know! Why do I have to say it…” Heat rushed to your cheeks because of his proposition. You hide your face behind your hands, lightly slapping his arm in protest.

Aaron knows everything so well and knows exactly what you want. It’s just that he has a habit of flustering you to no end, have you all shy in his arms before he indulged in you, devoured you. He finds so much pleasure in seeing you all shy and then moaning out his name to the world the very next moment.

He laughs, “Don’t hide yourself from me now. Or do you want me to tie your hands?”

You pulled your hands away from your face just to squint at him, shooting him a look of faux disinterest as if your heart isn’t just thundering against your ribcage, “You wouldn’t.”

“I never lie, sweetheart.”

That shut you up. You knew that riling Aaron up to no end would just end the night in a completely different state, till dawn even. Not that you minded, because it’s always a win-win situation.

Aaron placed an exaggerated kiss on your tummy, “Now tell me. I need instructions, baby. My patience is running thin.” You felt his thumb unconsciously graze the inside of your thighs.

"Aaron, please... Make love to me. I need to feel you," Your hands travelled up to thread through his hair, fingers caressing and tugging on his blonde locks, "Touch me, Aaron. Want you so bad." You internally whined because of how cringe you thought you sounded, but it’s a totally different story for your lover.

And then he was gone. It was a frenzy of emotions and actions as he sinked into you. Both of you moaned loudly at the feeling; so freakishly insane and beautiful that it knocked the air out of your lungs. It made you mad with emotions, this connection. It’s a reminder that Aaron was really yours and you were his, a reminder that despite whatever the world throws at you, the two of you still believe and love each other.

"I love you, Aaron." Those words escaped your lips inadvertently, his thrusts stuttering for a moment before he picked up his pace.

Both of you lost yourselves in the feeling of each other, each meeting increasing his pace as you met his thrusts. This was always something which felt beyond the description of 'beautiful', a state of infinite euphoria. An addicting ecstasy so delicious that it made you breathless, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

He felt so good, so freaking good. The blunt head of his cock touching parts inside of you that you thought was impossible. A particularly harsh thrust made your eyes roll back to your head. His movements are so fluid, so precise, so deep. He was driving you insane, that being his aim. You are addicted to the feeling, making you arch your back off the mattress.

Your warmth, wetness and tightness embraced him in a deliciously vice like grip, your scent reaching his senses and he was already drunk off of you. The squelching noise between your bodies grew, making your ears heat up but you also couldn't care less. This is your and Aaron's private moment after all.

Aaron groaned, his grunts growing louder with time, movements growing deeper, harder, “Oh, love. My beautiful, beautiful love,” He is practically a babbling mess, breathing heavily when you clenched around his length, your heat pulsing rapidly, “I love you so much, you have no idea.” That tugged at your heartstrings and you wanted to reply but you couldn't; his thrusts rendered you speechless and breathless.

It's pure instinct when he moves to embrace your entire figure within his arms, thrusting into you at a different angle which definitely felt even more deeper, hitting your spot so perfectly. Your gasps and moans fueled his urgent desire to feel you closer and make you come. His biceps flex as he pins you down, pounding mercilessly into you. You moaned his name like a prayer, chanting his name like he’s the only one filling each of your senses. Aaron. Aaron. Aaron.

He stared down at you; head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, moaning out his name in wanton as you moved together with his harsh and fast thrusts. You looked so beautiful in his eyes, his to love and his to hold. You feel like a dream to him, someone so gentle and kind, someone who took care of him in a way he never expected.

His hands grasped the comforter beside your head tightly at the increasing fervour of the movements. The room fills up with the sound of rapid skin-slapping, moans reverberating off the walls. He gasped for air, uninhibited moans escaping his pretty pink swollen lips. Your name leaving his lips in a state of absolute bliss, just you filling each and every fibre of his being. Aaron's eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed in concentration to not let go soon. Sweat trickled down his temples and clavicle, landing on your chest. His cheeks were flushed pink, lips opening to let out a quiet moan, a whimper even.

Dear God, how is he so pretty?

You tightened so hard making Aaron throw his head back at the bliss, so wet and so warm, so tight; all for him.

That thought ignited something in him, hands fumbling down to hold your hips in place as his fingers trailed down your bottom to the back of your thighs, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist to adjust the angle and pace. He started thrusting harder and faster. Now, he was moving in a completely different pace.

"Aaron— ah— slow down— "

“I can't, love. You feel too good— ” He sucks in a breath when your hands trails up to embrace him, as if holding onto him for dear life.

Your fingers travel down his clavicle and rest just above his chest. Aaron looks down at you with hooded eyes, barely able to keep them open due to the ecstasy filling his senses. His eyes searched yours, for any sign for discomfort. When he found none, he relaxed a little. But then you had to run your mouth,

"God, you sound so good and feel so, so good. I could never— ah, shit— get tired of your voice. Your moans — "

Aaron cut you off with a groan, his hips slamming against yours in an unforgiving pace. He was slowly losing it, having already lost himself in you, he decides this wasn't enough. He needs to have you even closer.

"I need you to flip over for me, love," Aaron huffed, urgency lacing his voice as he pulled out of you. He helped you get into position, taking in a moment to marvel at your beautiful back, stretch marks painting parts of your skin. You are perfect in his eyes.

"You are so beautiful, love." He confessed, caressing your ass before lining himself to your entrance, "Right back in..." He gasped at your tightness again, warmth embracing him, heat travelling up his spine.

You moaned loudly, muffling the sounds against your pillow which smelled so much like Aaron; gardenias with a hint of peppermint. You were right near the edge and knew Aaron is right there with you, his hold on your hips tightening.

“I’m close— ” You breathlessly gasped, the coil tightening in your abdomen.

You were close, so close but Aaron pulled out. A cry of protest settled on your tongue before he flipped you on your back and pushed right back in, your wetness being more than enough lubricant to push himself into your plush warm walls. You screamed, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Right there with you, love,” Aaron has a habit, a natural response, an unspoken urge to always see your face when you come undone on him, for him, so lost in the pleasure that your climax always pushed his, “Come. Come on my cock, baby.”

The moment he said those words, the tightening coil inside you snapped. You moaned loudly, the climax hitting you in waves that you had to turn to your side and bury your face in the pillows to calm your voice. But Aaron wasn’t having it. He merely grabbed the pillow and threw it on the floor.

Your tightness triggered Aaron’s climax, hips stuttering against with no rhythm. You stared up at his beautiful face, trying to blink away the blur, “Want to come inside me, handsome?” You teased him which awarded you with a sharp thrust into your already sensitive walls. He playfully glared at you.

“If you continue talking to me like this, I’ll keep you up all the night. Till we see the dawn.” Aaron groaned, to which you feigned nonchalance. But it only ignited your excitement.

He leaned down to kiss you, wanting to muffle his grunts and moans as he felt himself coming. But this time, you are not having it. Wanting to hear his moans, you pulled him away as your fingers tugged on the roots of his hair. Aaron whined, you pulling on his hair immediately making him come.

Even though breathless, he still had to say,

"Oh love, I could stay inside you for the rest of my life. Hide you away from the world if that means I get to take you any time, every time."

• • • • • • • • • • •

(a/n 2: tbh reading his thoughts from his pov and his extreme desires and needs really makes me feel like he does dirty talk but in such a rich way, seducing you to no end)

© wishing--butterfly, 2023. Please do not plagiarize or repost without permission.

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

Hii can you do twitter links for dazai too plz and thank you 🤗

dazai twitter links / visuals ^^

notices: fem bodied reader. make sure to log in to twitter !

"the agency's dorms walls are too thin, i'm afraid..."

i can imagine this only with dazai.

he's too lazy so he's making you do all the work.

"oh, c'mere, sit. no, not near me. on my face."

he's such a fucking slut in the begging yet can show you your place if he gets bored.

ohh he's just a menace.

dazai can get a lil rough here and there...

making you do all the work again. he does it quite often, actually.

has the ideas of the strangest positions known to mankind.

best way to start the day.

overstimming him <3 kinda.

gets off on giving. end of discussion. he can spend hours on end between your legs and not complain a single time.

quickie before work.

dazai just llllloves your tits.

there's no peaceful shower if it's with him.

how could you not like teasing him?

he just has to keep his mouth occupied, whether it's your cunt or boobs.

he's so incredibly needy sometimes, god, even when you're trying to work.

chuuya part.

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

sleepy morning dazai :(

he's so warm and soft. his groggy mumbles when you sit up, how he pushes his face into your abdomen and sleepily tries to tug you back down. when he tells you "..five more minutes, please.." but you both know it'll be at least 20. pulling you back into those cozy sheets and wrapping his limbs fully around you - he knows exactly how to make you never want to leave your bed. burying his face into your hair and inhaling your scent so deeply. he's trying to breathe only you, to only feel you, to live in and around you. you'd promised to wake up again at the second alarm, but the moment your breathing switches, he's turning them off. a day in bed won't hurt, right?

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

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — bsd men and public sex scenarios

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — smut

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

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai x reader

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

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

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

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

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

you nod vigorously, and he chuckles.

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

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

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

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

“what’s my name?”

“chuuya–”

“chuuya what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“kolya–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NSFW - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

. . . cw: twt p°rn, afab!reader, penetration, hair pulling, spanking, fingering, squirting, oral (f!receiving)

this, this, and this with dazai <3

Hello may I request a Dazai x reader, where she is horny and wants him, so while they were mhm they get interrupted by a phone call from anyone really (preferably) Atsushi.

What would happen then??

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — a short break spent alone in secret won't hurt, right?

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — smut

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — dazai x reader ft. atsushi

There were many ways you conveyed to Dazai that you wanted him. The two of you had developed codes to communicate within the Agency without letting Kunikida know, although Ranpo always made sure to make an over-the-top disgusted face whenever it happened.

You sighed softly, marching up to wear Dazai was folding a paper into an aeroplane and dropped a paperclip onto him. It landed onto his lap. He stared at it for a few moments as you walked away. Chuckling, he ditched his airplane's failed attempt at flying and hurried over to where you were going.

That led to now; you lay sprawled along the table of the meeting room with Dazai's face buried between your legs, splitting your thighs apart with his hands roughly. His arms hooked under your legs and he was forcing himself deeper onto your cunt.

One of your hands was clapped onto your mouth, the other into his hair, pushing his head to its destination. Dazai bit and sucked along your skin ferociously, determined to make a mess of the table. He plunged his tongue inside your sopping cunt, sticking it out to taste all of your delicious juices.

You let out a loud groan, clenching his head between your thighs hard.

"Dazai, don't-"

"You're so sweet, bella. I can never get enough of you," his lips vibrated against your clit, and you shut your eyes tightly together, expecting your rapidly approaching high. "You can give me one more, yea? Stay still, baby."

You could not give him one more. You were overstimulated, grabbing desperately onto his hair as if to rip it off his scalp. Your teeth were biting into your hand reflexively, trying to stop your helpless moans and groans from seeping out to the peaceful employees of the Armed Detective Agency. Even so, you were not sure they had not heard enough to make out what was going on behind the closed doors of their meeting room.

"Just one more, bella, hang in there, please."

"I can't-"

"Please," Dazai groaned into your pussy, and the sound was enough to finally push you over the edge to your release.

You let out a loud wail, not bothering to hide it anymore, as you came onto his face, spilling your wetness onto his clothes and the floor. The table was a mess. The room smelled of fresh sex.

Your legs trembled as Dazai picked your pants from the ground after quickly stuffing your panties inside his pockets, when all of a sudden you heard a phone ring.

"It's mine, babe. Get dressed," he kissed your pussy one last time and you shuddered.

Dazai answered the phone call, slipping one of your hands inside his pants.

"Yes, Atsushi?"

Your fingers stroked his length, circling around its base before slowly gripping it by the whole, all the while you tried to wear your pants with the other hand.

"Hi! Where are you?"

"Doesn't matter," Dazai replied calmly, clenching his teeth as he felt you teasing his tip lightly. It was a bit difficult doing so. So he shifted the phone to rest between his ear and shoulder and undid the button and zip, cock springing up freely when he pushed the underwear down.

Your heart jumped at the sight, hastily standing up and leaning down to lick it.

"Mr Kunikida is looking for you. He says to call you so you won't be late."

"Won't be late for what?" Dazai hissed, fingers tangling into your hair as he leaned against the table.

"For the meeting in five minutes, of course."

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

sub dazai content i beg 😭😓

"𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐀?"

note — ask, and thou shalt receive.

tws — explicit content, msub, teasing, degradation, cum eating, hair pulling, cowgirl, reader is meaaaan, bondage, choking, face-sitting, this is kinda filthy im ngl, i wrote this in 20 minutes so there will most definitely be errors, premature ejaculation, unprotected seeeex, dazai is pussy drunk but that's nothing new ... MDNI

"you think you're soooo cute, huh?" you raised a questioning brow, hands wrapped firmly around dazai's bandaged throat — and your pussy wrapped around his flushed cock. moans poured out of his mouth, which were all muffled by the sheer fabric of your panties stuffed in there — his lips wet 'n sticky with your arousal and his own spit.

he was so cute with his mouth shut — no more snarky and teasing comments you had to listen to as you rode him like your life depended on it. all he could do is moan and grunt around your pretty little panties while getting overstimulated over and over again. it was fucking amazing.

"feeling me up at work? seriously?" you scoffed, fingers tightening around his throat as you felt him gulp — cock twitching inside you as he tried not to nut right then and there. but god, were you making it so fucking difficult for him.

"don't you dare cum without my permission," you hissed out at the poor man, cunt squeezing down tightly as he bucked his hips up — trying to fuck up into you but to no avail, unfortunately. you giggled at his pathetic attempt to fuck you — "c'mon, this is so fucking embarrassing, honestly," you cooed — watching as he gazed at you through those pretty, long lashes that you were almost jealous of.

"fuck, you're such a slut, 'samu," you licked your lips — moving your hands from his neck to those chocolatey brown locks, tugging them hard as you can while bouncing on dazai's cock — watching as his eyes rolled back, his back arching as he moaned loudly despite being gagged — sticky white substance spurting into you and painting your walls white for the second time that night.

"oh you little...."

dazai groaned from the taste of your cunt — not at all minding his own cum dripping down your hole to his hot tongue. the combination of your slick and his load made him feel all dizzy — it was just so fucking lewd.

"enjoying yourself down there, baby?" you moaned, a grin spreading on your candied lips as you looked down at your boyfriend — eating your pussy out so nicely. fuck, he looked so ruined - his hair even messier than usual, eyes unfocused and hazy, pupils fully blown out, sharp nose bumping against your little clit as you rode his face to your desire, not caring if he could breathe or not — just like you knew he liked it.

i mean, how could you not? especially when you saw how fucking hard his cock got while devouring you like this — pussy gushing and creaming all over his face as he tried his best to lap it all up, not letting a single drop go to waste.

dazai felt like he was in heaven — hips twitching up everytime you grind down against his hot tongue, the lower portion of his pretty face completely soaked in your sticky honey — so fucking messy but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"o-oh fuuuhck — 'm close," you moaned — squeezing your eyes shut as you tugged on his wavy brown locks. the way you were using him solely for your pleasure — riding and creaming all over his face, had the man seeing stars — it felt so fucking good.

"cum, p-please, c'mon baby i know you can do it — cum on my face, please, " dazai spoke up for what seemed like the first time since you've started this — and fuck, his voice was so needy and desperate it had you gushing all over him, your juices being lapped right up by the man below you, who was basically on cloud nine at the moment.

dazai didn't stop licking and suckling on your cunt until he was sure he had cleaned every single drop — letting go of your clit with a wet 'pop!' as he let you come down from that delicious high.

you panted heavily, eyes snapping back open as you finally came to the right state of mind. you finally lifted yourself up, giving dazai some room to breathe properly, "oh 'samu, let's get you cleane—" your words died in your throat as you saw the creamy white substance all over dazai's tummy and thighs, and his cock dripping with cum.

he knows he should be embarrassed for cumming untouched from having his girl ride his face but all dazai could really think about in that moment was —

"fuck baby, i really need to rile you up more often."

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻 ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ

notes: osamu only planned for your first hookup to be a one night stand—so what is it about you that has him reeling for more of your touch?

warnings: fem reader, port mafia!dazai, casual hookup at the bar, dazai asks you to say you love him the first time he fucks you, reader calls him slutty (lovingly), needy dazai, mentions of alcohol, 1.5k words.

dazai isn't surprised when he ends up fucking you the first night he meets you, but he is surprised that he decides it's a good idea to do it at lupin, of all places. for the womanizer people believe he is, he isn't much into having sex in public places. and anyways, the bar manager has always been good to him and his friends—he hates to soil the place this way. it really is such a lovely bar.

however, you clearly had one thing on your mind when you pulled him in for your first kiss, and who is he to deny you? he isn't exactly easy, but he's definitely weak for a pretty woman, everyone knows that.

the bar manager left hours ago, tossing dazai his keys and asking him to lock up when the two of you are done drinking. and as soon as you were left alone, it was like you couldn't get your hands on him fast enough, and after all of your teasing and flirting throughout the night, dazai is certainly ready to make you regret making him feel so seen—seen for who he truly is, he hates that you've figured him out so quickly.

"fuck, this is so good," you laugh as your head rolls back, your legs spread wide as dazai fucks you on the bar stool, his hips meeting yours with a quick pace as his eyes are locked onto your face, your brow furrowed in ecstasy, "i knew it would be good, you're so slutty, aren't you, osamu?" you're calling him by his first name already?

he feels a little jab in his heart at that. you'd told him earlier in the night you'd heard about him—you know he's an executive in the port mafia, you know he's quite popular with women, but you weren't expecting to run into "the" osamu dazai that night, you'd only stopped in for a quick drink—you'd told him as much.

dazai feels something bubbling up in his stomach at your continuous teasing jokes, and he's not quite sure he likes it. the way your head lolls back, resting on the bar as your eyes close, not even looking at him as he pounds into you with his pretty cock, the same pretty cock others have complimented him on so many times, has him feeling uneasy. is he using you, or are you using him?

"say you love me."

dazai doesn't even slow his movements or falter when your head jerks up to look at him in disbelief.

"w-what?"

"say it, i-i need to hear it," he whines and buries his face in your neck, losing all control as he fucks you desperately, like he can't get enough of you even though he doesn't really know anything about you. "just say it for me, angel. you don't have to mean it," his words are muffled into your neck, and he hates how pathetic he sounds. how did he get here? he only meant to fuck your pretty pussy and leave it at that, so why do you have him wrapped around your finger already?

you pant out a little laugh, and it makes his heart ache. "i can't do that, darling—but you're fucking me so good, i-i just might have to keep you a little longer."

dazai doesn't know how your words are hurting his feelings, the feelings he thought he'd locked away for good long ago. no, i'm dead inside—what the fuck is this?

"i bet you go around breaking hearts left and right, huh, 'samu?" your teasing continues, and though the dynamic between the two of you is unlike anything he's experienced before, the audacity you have to call him by his first name makes his cock harden even more. your playful demeanor tells him you aren't taking him seriously, and the thought alone makes him want to please you that much more—he wants to make you remember him, wants you to follow him around and beg for more, but you aren't biting.

he slows his movements, easing his cock in and out, eyes glued to the way your slick glistens on his shaft, pulling out of you suddenly as he drops to his knees—he doesn't waste time finding what he wants, spreading your lips and flicking his tongue over your swollen clit. is this how you want it? go ahead and scream my name, pretty girl.

but you don't seem phased by the change in position, only losing yourself again quickly in the feeling of his mouth on you. "god, your tongue feels so good." you moan and whimper as he sucks on your clit, gripping the back of his hair to ride his face, sliding your pussy up and down on his tongue roughly as he lets you use him like your own personal fuck toy, the wet sounds of his tongue on your pussy filling the tiny bar.

"you're so pretty," he pulls his mouth away from your wet cunt, hands gliding over your stomach before gently squeezing at your tits.

"are you teasing me, osamu?"

"well, you've been teasing me all night, haven't you, princess?" he feigns his usual confidence as he rises to his feet, gripping your soft hips as he slides you closer to him on the stool again, softly teasing his pale cock over your entrance. your hand reaches down to rub at your clit, pulling him in with your other hand on his hip as you urge him to fuck you again.

"c'mon, baby, fuck me." he slides back into you slowly, "oh, you feel so good, your cock feels so good." your occasional praise contrasts sharply with the teasing jabs you've been throwing at him, and dazai realizes—he can't figure you out. you're such a paradox to him, but that only makes him want to get to know you more, to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours. do you yearn for death the way he does, or do you welcome each day? he wants to know everything.

"i think i love your dick, baby, fuck. . ." could you ever love him, or is this all he's good for in your eyes? dazai feels you squeezing around him as you rub at your clit faster, eyes rolling back again, "oh, fuck, i'm gonna cum, let me cum, osamu, lemme cum all over your cock, yeah?" your legs shake and it's the strongest orgasm he's ever felt from someone, your pussy clenching him so tightly it makes him groan out a little s-shit as you ride out your high, his eyes glued to your pretty face as you orgasm.

but it still isn't enough, you want more, and it shows in the way you continue moaning as he fucks you, slapping your clit lightly as you come down from your high, "lemme cum on your cock one more time, 'samu, then you can cum, k? that sound good?" he's eager to please and it doesn't take long at all for you to cum again, and immediately after you do, your pussy squeezing him even tighter than before, you're dropping to your knees in front of him like it's the only logical thing to do.

"hmm, such a pretty cock, y'know that? and you're so handsome, osamu." he feels his heart swell, and the way you're stroking him off so perfectly, your pretty eyes looking up at him and blown wide with desire, has every nerve in his dick even more sensitive than before. he spills into your throat after only a few seconds, and truthfully—though he finishes quickly, he isn't ashamed. he feels he could stay with you in this moment forever, not an ounce of doubt in his heart.

"i haven't cum that hard in forever," you laugh, tracing your finger over his bottom lip before turning away to find your clothes. the sound of your voice is so sweet, he thinks he could listen to it forever. "mmm, god, my legs are shaking."

you give him a few soft kisses before letting him go, entirely too soon for his liking. "i'm tired, i wasn't planning on fucking a handsome stranger in a bar tonight, i'll admit it's a first for me!" your playful tone tells him you're not ashamed, and it's something he quickly decides he loves about you—he can't stand feigned emotions of any kind, they're simply a waste of time.

"you can stay at my place, dear, if you want." the words leave his lips before he can stop himself, sounding a little more needy than he'd like.

"ah, i should get home, i have work in the morning."

he frowns at that. "what do you do?" he just wants to keep you close for a little while longer, and he's impressed when you tell him about your career. you're far more formally educated than him, though he's surely got you beat in the strategizing and street smarts category—fucking a stranger in a bar is pretty risky.

"w-wait," he grabs your wrist when you move towards the door, but the look of surprise on your face makes him regret it immediately. where are you going, angel? don't you want to stay with me? don't you want to stay for as long as i'll let you? "can i see you again?"

you laugh, seemingly taken aback, "seriously?" only silence fills the room, but you put him out of his misery when you speak again, and he's grateful for it, "maybe i'll see you around again, osamu. and if so, maybe it's fate, yeah?"

"y-yeah, sure," he smiles at that, but he's faking it, and he hates that.

dazai sighs when he locks the door to the bar later that night, throwing the keys in the potted plant next to it before walking down the alley, making his way toward his apartment—and for once in his life, his heart aches at the idea of sleeping alone.

come back to me, angel, please. i want to know what's in that pretty mind of yours.

~Midnight Injections~

Chuuya x reader x Dazai

Tw: fem! Reader, threesome, consensual non con, cursing, drugging, drug influence, extreme horniness, leg humping, oral, face fucking, anal oral, getting fucked on a table, anal, double penatration, multiple orgasm, (different holes) there could be more YoloSPELLING ERRORS, no beta we die like men.(this,was not proof read at all I'm sorry)

Wc: 4.5k words of pure unsolicited porn

A/N: this was originally a tokyo revengers fanfiction but my friend wanted a bsd version so here we are

"What are you doing!?" You yelled as the dark haired man pushed you down against your will, holding a syringe to your neck. Before you could open your mouth to scream, his large peachy smooth hand clamped down on the bottom half of your face, seeing the look of fear in those glassy e/c eyes filled him with a wicked satisfaction, lips quirked up into a smirk, droopy eyes regarding you in an alayzing way you couldn't quite dicipher as he leaned down to your ear "don't worry doll face.... it's only a harmless expiriment" the low and almost soothing tone an entirely different contrast to the devilish smile adorning his handsome face.

In turn, it really was just a little expiriment, nothing to put you in horrifying torment, but oh well, Dazai had always been one to play with his food. The syringe needle pricked into the skin of your neck, pulsating with the same rapid pace of your heart. The liquid flowed into your bloodstream with the slow movement of his finger pressing on the base. As it settled into your body u froze, but it was soon turned to confusion as you were still very much awake and in your right mind. Dazai removed his hand from your face as he got up and studied you. The tall man was looking at u in slight dissapointment, as nothing happened for the past minute, he gave you one last smile and walked out the room.

He intended on coming back in to make records your reaction to the sex drug they created by accident. The mafai were cooking a new one to brainwash its users into believing anything they were told, it could extract information and even create human weapons if used right. Somehow thier first test did put its victims under a trace of sorts- only problem, it released sex hormones instead and an wildly absurd amount of oxytocin.

Chuuya left his "prisoner" for three minutes. Three. Minutes. Nothing to bad could've happened in that time right? Wrong. He realized this when he opened the door returning with a new water bottle for you, only to be found on the ground lying on your side, a panting sobbing mess. Hands still tied behind your back, sweat glistening your whole body in a shiny coating, a full veiw of your pink lacy bra through the now see through veil in your white shirt. Skirt hiked up on your hips, a teasing show of matching panties in full veiw, leaving very little to imagination as the more your body convulsed erotically. Soft whines of his name making it all the more bothering. "Chuuya~ it hurts" the soft whining of his name made it hard to focus, the movement of your body splayed out erotically moving up and down in ragged breaths made his dick twitch. Regardless your well being came first.

Immediately he got on his knees, regarding you for any sort of injury "y/n? What happened? what hurts??" his voice rushed and full of concern and confusion. "Pleassee~" needy voice calling out to him as you whimpered, body reaching for him in calling manner. If your hands weren't binded with rope, you would be desperately grasping at him right now. "i need you! I need help, please~" soft desperate whining fills the air as you fought your restrains to reach him. Noticing this he unties the ropes caging your delicate wrists in.

He was stunned for a second with the shock of your lips pressed to his. Tongue easily slipping it's way into his mouth. As your head twisted sideways deepening the now make out session with the confused man. A shallow whimper left his throat, muffled by your mouth on his, tongue pressing into his as it slithers further into him. Spit mixed together, pooling in your mouths as a slimy trail ran down your chin.He felt the wetness of your dripping cunt seeping through his pant leg as u bucked your hips into his thigh with desperation. A trail of wet spit connected to chuuya's tongue left your mouth as you pulled away. A loud groan rolled out of him as he eyed the slimy line of saliva. He felt slender fingers lacing thier way into his silky orange hair, his hat long fallen next to him without even noticing. Your fingers gripped him firmly, pushing his face into the valley of your breasts, so swollen and perky. A slight stinging but arousing sensation from every bouncing movement your body made, grinding into him.

Hands hastily removing his coat as you moved to cover his neck and collarbones with sloppy little kisses and kitten licks, nibbling on his choker occasionally. If u weren't so brain dead you would've cursed at all his fucking layers while u struggled to undo his X shaped suspenders before ripping his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere as u moved lower leave kisses on his chest.

Breathless moaning, panting and his groans filled the air as you fucked yourself against his twitching leg muscle. Chuuya's hips guttered upwards, cock strained against his pants, rubbing into the thick of your thigh between his legs, giving just enough friction to ease his painfully hard cock. Teeth bitting into the flimsy blouse and tugging it open to reveal your clevage and laced bra. Open mouth kisses littered against your collarbone down to the soft mounds spilling out of the pink fabric. "ohhh my god~ yes!". "Keep going chuuya please" your please went straight to his dick as his bucking into u became more sloppy.

A gutteral moan ripped it's way out of your convulsing body, back arching as his teeth harshly bit into the mounds of your breast through the flimsy bra. Your fingers dug dangerously deep into his shoulders, nails leaving red cresent marks in its wake while his calloused hands gripped into your ass keeping you in place as your body spasamed with a mind numbing orgasm. Waves of clear sticky liquid gushed out the clenching pussy situated on him like a waterfall, soiled the panties still adorned on your squelching cunt. Post orgasm high still crashing down as you barely register being flipped over, back against the floor.

The muscular man crawled on top of your shaking form. Before registering anything his pants were off, boxers down to his knees as one hand hooked into your soaked panties, pulling them off. After that exchange he needed to be inside you, his entire body begging him for it.  An abnormal amount of clear slick pooled out of your heated core. Watching in mesmeration as it dripped down to your ass cheeks and off your leg creating a little puddle of fluids underneat your bodies. Gasping "Chuuya...more.. please"  The way you whimpered out  "please... i need you! I need you inside me... please~" Hearing the broken sobbing whimpers for him sent him fucking feral.

Hooking your legs onto his hips he Positioned his unbelievably thick cock at your entrance and pushed in all the way in one go. An erotic scream made its way out your throat as his shaft buried inself inside you. Gummy walls clamped down on him as a tsunami of pleasure washed over you, tears trickled down from your eyes as your back arched upwards. Your jaw slacked open, eyes rolled back into your head as all u saw was a white blur. You were cumming and all he did was bottom out inside of you. Wasting no more hestitation he started thrusting, hard and fast, riding out your orgasm. Embarassing wet, skin on skin slapping noises, moans, gasps and grunts filled the room. The sent of sex long protruding the air, all these heightened your senses as you felt every vein rub against the ridges of your walls.

He picked you up by the waist, still hitting shallow thrusts into you. As he walked over to the long rectangular table, your small whines of displeasure, wanting and needing him to continue were soon fulfilled. He gently dropped you, back arched outwards on the smooth wooden table as he slammed his thick lenght back into your crying pussy. Streching you so full, you whined out as he twisted your bottom half sideways, lifting one leg high onto the side of his torso. Hips ramming into you with such force it was almost violent, a deep contrast to the gentle kisses he gave as he bent further downwards to suck hikeys onto your collar bone and tits.

You felt it all, harsh movements of his cock pushing into your cervix, the way his skin felt under your hand, desperately grasping at his forearms and shoulders, scraping down his back as red marks made thier way onto him. Smelt the air full of sex and humidity as your screams and grunts travelled through the atmosphere. The loud squelching noises of your cunt with every thrust was almost embarassing. But the only thing that filled your mind as u cried out chuuya's name was the eye contact you held with the dark haired man across the room, leaning by the door way as he palmed himself through the black pants of his suite.

Chuuya felt his balls tighten, and his hips move sloppier knowing he was close, his hand dipped below where you both conjoined to rub circles into your clit. His other hand travelled to fondle your left breast, pinching at your nipple and massaging into the supple flesh, his mouth suctioned on the right, tongue massaging little circles into your perky nipple. His mouth sent you into another dimension of pleasure. All the added stimulation made you cry, half lidded eyes fighting to stay open as your eyes kept its lock on those earthy brown ones. They darkened with lust upon seeing your features strunched in pleasure a loud lewd moan of "Chuuya! Im cummi- AHHHH~" before blast white consumed your vision, mouth hung open as your tongue lolled out, spit leaking down your chin all the way to your neck and breasts. Eyes rolled upwards in a criss cross fashion as they broke the contact, eyelids fluttering shut and open a few times as your vision spaced out of focus. Chuuya felt as you clamped down on him, walls cleched as you creamed all over him, a ring of white at the base of his cock, while your fluids gushed out, your pussy walls sucked him further into you. Hearing the scream of his name pushed  him over the edge as ropes of sticky hot cum painted your insides, as he moaned out your name.

He slowly regained himself from the post orgasm high, still buried inside you, as slow clapping echoed through the room. "My~ my~" playfully tisked the slender man as slow footsteps stalked towards you both. "Must say, I didn't expect the drug to take such drastic effect~"Dazai sing-songed ."Or maybe our sweet little y/n is just a raging cum slut instead?" Lopsided smirk plastered on his delicate but devious face as the teasing continued, now directed at chuuya. "You're the one who did this? What drug are you talking about u cunt!?" Chuuya now regarding his everyday companion and "partner" in furiousity. "Relax it was just a hormonal drug Mori wanted to test out" with that he pulled out of you to face his friend "and he said to use y/n!?"

Before either of them could escalate thier argument you whined. Very loudly "No!~". Both heads snapped to you, splayed out on the table under both of them,"more...please...", gasping out "i need more. I want you~ inside me". To simply tease his friend dazai responded first. "Oh? And who would u prefer darling?" With a teasing smile on his face but your answer and the zero hesitation with it, hit him by surprise. "Both! Either! It doesn't matter just pleaseee!~" They both stood shocked, hearing u cry out "both" registering in thier minds. They observed, quite mesmerized as your hand moved groping at your breasts through the pink brasserie, now fully drenched in sweat, travelling down to your core, legs open wide. The sight of kakuchou's white cum, mixed with a wallerfall of clear smily fluid seeping out of your cunt in gushes. Needy gasps left you as your body moved up and down with every panting breathe, hands groping everywhere and your body entirely hot and burning to the touch, droopy eyes looking so tired but so desperate. You casted a pleading look at Chuuya, Bambi eyes begging for him before quickly changing to a halfassed glare and what seemed to be lust? as you made eye contact to Dazai again. The looks you gave filled both with a want, no, a need to fuck you right then and there. Chuuya always admired the way your out up as u laughed at something he said, or they way they looked at him with that big doeyed innocence everytime u came to him asking about things with genuine curiosity. Dazai always loved the way you'd glare at him everytime he teased you, he annoyed u just to see it actually. It's no surprise they both cherished you in some way so seeing you spread out so openly, bragged them to fuck you unlocked something in them. They shared a glance in a silent agreement to discard whatever the fuck they were talking about and take you right then.

You could register they way your body was moved sideways, head and legs hanging off the width as your back pressed into the surface. Chuuya's hands gripping your thighs as they caressed the skin moving up to your hips and down again as he stood between your legs. As he leaned down to pepper kisses to your stomach.. trailed downwards. Dazai's hand moved down to the flimsy bra still covering your tits as they upined the straps, one hand roaming under you to undo the the claps, skillfully removing it in just two motions. The hand drifted to massage your breasts, twirling the nipple between his fingers as the other held up your head, forcing you to make eye contact. A sinful groan left his mouth and the hateful glare you sent into his eyes, going straight to his already hard dick.

"What's that look for darling?" His disgustingly sweet velvet voice whispered to you as he smirked. "Fuck yo-MMPH~" before you could finish your lovely response his soft pink lips were on yours, tongue moving down your throat. You whimpered loudly at the feeling, mixed with his smooth hands fondling your breasts". He pulled away smirking to himself "Do you love me y/n~?" He voiced before pressing his lips to your throat, sucking  gently into the skin. "I hate you~" you mewled in response to him. He groaned at that one, seeing your eyes of anger and desperation while hearing your harsh words in that needy whining undertone made him wanna shove his dick inside of you.

And thats exactly what he leaned back to do. "AHHH~" a mixture of a scream and a moan ripped it's way out of you, body arching at the sudden, and much needed intrusion of Chuuya's cock. The stretch was fucking amazing, he's as thick as a fucking coke can and it had you gasping out from just having it rammed all the way inside you. As your mouth fell open in a silent scream Dazai's dick was shoved down your throat, head upside down, hanging off the edge. Tears streaked out the sides of  your face, moans and screams muffled as both men thrusted into you from opposite sides.

Dazai thrusted his dick into your mouth, hand gripping in your hair as he held you in place. Spit and tears leaking off the sides of your face, choked mewls and gagging being pulled out of your body. His balls slapping onto your flushed cheeks with every thrust of his hips on your fucked out face. Chuuya's sweet touches, fingers digging into your waist so hard they would obviously leave bruises as his cock was being buried into your cervix from the violent thrusts. Leg being thrown over his shoulder. A nerve wracking moan released itself from your throat at the new angle, muffled itself, the intense vibration making Dazai's cock twitch inside you even more. Both men groaning as they fucked into your wet holes.

The groans of them pierced the air as the dirty noises of your pussy and the gaging of your throat could be heard. Your mouth desperately suctioned at Dazai's long, slender cock in need, tongue running over the small veins and swirling over his pretty pink tip everytime he pulled out. His sweet sweet~ high pitched moans reached your ear drums, made u want to suck him as best as you could just to hear his pretty groans more. Your cunt tightening more with ever splash of clear liquid spraying out of you and coating Chuuya's abdomen as he pistolled his hips into yours, his soothing rough hands holding you in place by the waist.

He leaned down to suck your perky nipples, swirling his warm tongue over your sensitive buds, biting into your mushy flesh as he continued his harsh thrusting. One of your hands moving to grip into Chuuya's auburn locks, fingers tangling in his hair as the other braced itself on Dazai's thigh, sharp nails digging him. All of your movements became slurred as you were cock drunk and they couldn't hold back anymore.

Your scalp burns with the harsh grip you were given. Gulps of hot cum spraying down your sore throat as he held u by the hair. Pulling out, lines of white graced your lips and the sides of your mouth, forming sticky webs across your face. He took a moment to admire his work, eyes once glaring at him with hatred now completely clouded over in nothing but fucked out lust and desperation. He admired the way they rolled back, mouth opening in a final piercing moan as Chuuya came inside you. Ropes of cum spraying across your clenched walls as an impossibly harsh orgasm wracked itself through your entire nervous system. You creamed over his cock as he filled you, gushing clear liquids drenching his shaft as a white ring grew thicker at his base.

As his shaft pulled out of your dripping heat, both men watched as his cum leaked out of your swollen pussy onto your thighs. Two fingers moved to your dripping hole as Chuuya collected the white cream and stuffed it back inside of you. You whimpered at the feeling, already too sensitive from so many orgasms but still not satisfied. You body was  turned on the table to lay down fully as you caught your breath for a few seconds. "More.." a small whisper left your mouth.

Chuuya seemed surprised you still weren't satisfied however haruchiyo just chuckled lowly. You were barely aware of the rest of whatever scraps of clothing were on you being discarded before being flipped over, stomach pressing into the table, ass out facing Dazai. You were startled as he got down on his knees behind you "wait what are you doi- MMPH~~" a dark blush spread across your face as you felt his tongue move across your tight muscle. "Dazai! No not there~" another moan fell from your lips. It seemed so wrong to you but felt so sinfully good. The exact thing you would expect from the port mafia's dog. The lewdest moans they've ever heard was being spewed from you right now as Dazai fucked his spit into your hole, twisting his tongue at just the prefect angle to have u seeing stars.

His pretty long fingers slowly pushing into your tight ass scissoring it open while his tongue lubricated your gummy walls. Chuuya sat in the lone chair, giving small strokes to his huge cock as he watched your pretty face,cheeks painted dust pink, eyes screwed shut and mouth slightly parted. listening to your sweet moans and gasps. God you looked so fucking cute despite being in such a filthy act. He could watch u writhe and squirm all day and never get bored.

After Dazai thought that you were wet and streched enough he pulled away, trails of slick siliva conected to your hole as it dripped out and down the flesh of your ass.Your half limp body helplessly being manhandled into a doggy position on the floor. Dazai got behind you, his dainty hands running up your thighs and waists, his touch sending electric waves into you,goosebumps rising on your skin as Dazai positioned his hardened dick at your entrance. Without any warning he rammed into you so roughly. A loud scream forced out you made both men groan. He started thrusting inside you at a rapid pace. So hard it was honestly violent, you barely had any time to breathe.

"Daz-Dazai! No its too much! Slow down- nyaaa~" all your begging just seemed to turn him on more by the groans he gave u in return. Your nails were gripping into floor, tears filled up your water lines driping down in small streaks. His left hand travelled up to between your breasts as he griped your neck tighly. A surprised gasp left your mouth when he tugged your body upwards, back pressing into Dazai's chest, head dropped back onto his shoulder. As your face turned to him he brought his mouth to yours. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue slid into your mouth. Hot breathes fanning into eachother as his tongue went deeper down your throat. His hand tightening on your neck.

So preoccupied with Dazai's make out sessions you dont register kakuchou kneeling down infront of you till u felt his hands grab your legs, draping them over his, as he positioned his stiff cock against your puffy folds. Clear creamy fluids dripped down onto his dick as he rubbed it on your clit. You pulled away from sanzu gasping for air. Before u could intake enough oxygen a different pair of lips were on you, tongue tangling in yours over and over, slipping out to swipe over lips and biting into them. "God your fucking flithy~ you love this dont u little bitch?" Dazai spoke into your ear before sucking harsh marks into your neck. The only response you could fanthom was a loud moan into Chuuya's mouth as he thrusted inside you. Finger nails scratching his muscular shoulders. Dazai resumed his movements, both men moving inside you as a mismatched pace.

Your back arched in, head draped over Dazai's shoulder. You could feel every movement of thier cocks rubbing inside your walls, it felt so full. "Haa~ Ahhh~ kaku!- h-haru!! Too much! Its too much please!" Your pleading just fueled them to thrust even harder. "Shut the fuck up little whore~ you love it! Dont you?" Haruchiyo grabbed your jaw from behind as he whispered harsh words to you. Both men groaned in sync, feeling your pussy and anus clench at his degrading words. "Say it..say how much you love getting fucked by two men at once". "I LOVE IT! "I love getting fucked by you! I love being stuffed full off your cocks~" streams of tears blurred your vision as you mewled out those words. Dazai grinned as he turned your head to kiss you again.

All of you were on the verge of your orgasms, you could tell by Dazai's sloppy thrusting against your prostate and Chuuya's hips bucking as he was hitting your cervics in every thrust. It was too much sensations all at once you couldn't take it any longer. "Oh fuck~ you're doing great doll~ you take us so well~. Your face was pulled away from Dazai by your hair, the milisecond of confusion soon washed away by Chuuya's tongue being rammed down your throat. Fuck it's too much...to much...the only tought occupying your fucked out little head. Hell it was mystery how you were still consious right now. If it wasn't for the extra dose of horny Dazai put in your system you'd be long gone. With one synced thrust, hitting the perfect spots inside you, your knots came undone.

Your were creaming over both men, searing hot cum dripping down onto thier cocks, abdomens and thighs. The feeling of having two orgasms was like noting you ever felt before. Dazai's cum splattered inside your as you experienced an anal orgasm for the first time. Pussy clenched down on Chuuya, it was so tight he couldn't even move anymore. He moaned into your mouth as you milked him of all his cum. Sticky, heated white spraying inside your in thick ropes. It felt so fucking good your body spasamed as you came, vision going black and white, body slumped down onto Chuuya's chest as everything became a white blur.

After the shock wave moved throughout you,  your whole body went limp. The slight movements of your chest up and down along with shallow breathes leaving you indicated to the men that u passed out. They both looked at eachother, a silent agreement to clean you and forget about whatever argument they should be having right now. They cleaned u off, and dressed you in some of Dazai spare clothes before placing you to sleep on boten's shared couch in the main room.

In conclusion, Dazai was very fucking proud of his creation if that was the reward, Chuuya also very happy with the aftermath. Only thought they've ever had in common with each other was that this definitely won't be the last time.

dazai ofc, nikolai, gojo, sanji, bokuto, oikawa, tanaka, tendou, terushima, mammon, denki + your favs !

Ranpo/reader + Dazai Osamu ➛ getting caught

content: nsfw, teasing, semi-public sex in a storage room, degradation ("slut", "bitch", etc), vaginal sex, finger sucking, thigh grinding | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~2,6k words | ao3 link | kinktober masterlist

There was something unnatural, something outright demonic about how terribly insatiable Ranpo was.

Often, this proved to be an advantage to you — you certainly weren't complaining whenever he spent hours between your thighs, eating you out with a tongue so clever it should have been illegal, or when he kept on fucking you even after having come already, not intent on stopping until you were sobbing out his name in desperate pleas.

Right now, however, you really wished he had some more decency, because humping you in the storage room when you both should have been working was awfully risky; too risky for your tastes.

“Ranpo—, we really should get back to work. Please.” Your voice sounded breathless, and you squirmed as the edge of the shelf dug uncomfortably into the soft skin underneath your shoulder blade. “Someone's going to wonder where we disappeared to.”

“So?” Ranpo's smirk was cheeky. “Let them wonder. You don't seriously believe Kunikida is going to suspect that we're making out in here.”

“Well, no, but—” You interrupted yourself with a tiny whimper as Ranpo once more rolled his hips against yours; your eyes fell closed on instinct, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. “Please.”

“See? You just invalidated your own concerns. He's not going to look for us. Just focus on me.”

“But someone else might”, you protested weakly, your eyebrows knitted together into a frown. The thought of Yosano or even Fukuzawa finding you both in such a compromising position wasn't a pleasant one. Or, even worse—

Ranpo merely clicked his tongue at you, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he raised a shoulder in a shrug. “You'll just have to stay quiet then.” He leaned forward, lips right next to your ear, voice low; “You can do that, right? Wouldn't want anyone to hear you mewling the way you usually do on my dick, right?”

Heat rose to your cheeks at those words and you narrowed your eyes in disdain, glaring at Ranpo. “I don't mewl.”

“Sure you do.” As if to prove you wrong, his leg suddenly pushed between your thighs, spreading them, and ground down against your crotch, a smirk causing the corners of his lips to twitch upwards when your breath caught in your throat.

A choked out moan left your mouth almost on cue, your legs trying to close again on instinct — in vain, of course.

Another jerk of his leg had you whimpering, his thigh all but rubbing insistently against your cunt, and even though layers of clothing were still hindering you from skin on skin contact, the sensation was intense enough to cause you to throw your head back with a high-pitched whine.

Even worse; your arousal was drenching your panties already, and, God, how were you supposed to keep on working while wearing these once Ranpo decided he was done?

“See? You're mewling like a bitch in heat, and I barely even touched you yet.”

Sometimes you forgot just what a sharp tongue Ranpo had.

The words were crude enough to make you try and hide your face in his neck, dark hair brushing against your forehead, and Ranpo snickered.

“What, are you embarrassed? I'm just stating the facts. I bet you'll be even louder once I actually get to fuck you.”

“Ranpo”, you whined, shaking your head against his shoulder, “We can't, seriously, imagine if someone walks in on us.”

Even though that was what you were saying, desperately trying to cling to the voice of reason, you were unable to stop yourself from grinding down against his thigh as arousal coiled in your abdomen, hot and heavy and terribly persistent.

Your clit was throbbing with need, and with each roll of your hips against his leg, you gasped, faint and high-pitched noises clawing their way out of your throat.

When you took your actions into consideration, your words really weren't convincing.

It seemed Ranpo thought the same.

“Hey, I'm not keeping you from leaving.” His smirk was sleazy, green eyes half-lidded as he pulled away just far enough to get a proper look at you. “If you think it's too risky, better get back to work before anyone notices you're missing, doll. I'll just get myself off.”

You whined in response. “You're unnecessarily cruel.”

“And you're indecisive. That's worse.” With those words, Ranpo pulled his leg back to push down his trousers, carelessly letting them pool around his knees as he grabbed his dick in one hand, a tiny moan falling from his lips. “So? What will it be? Brave enough to take some risks?”

It was getting increasingly difficult to still focus on what he was saying, you noted in the back of your mind. Instead, your attention was all but drawn to the way his cock twitched in his own palm when he rubbed over the flushed head of it, smearing thin precum around, and you were unable to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together with sudden need.

“Ranpo”, you said, his name lingering between you, thick and tension-filled, and you honestly had no idea what you had been planning to say.

Eventually, as Ranpo raised an eyebrow in anticipation, you managed to choke a plea out, though you weren't sure what exactly you were asking for.

For more or for less, or for him to finally stop jerking himself off, because the sight was seriously driving you mad; the urge to sink down to your knees and suck him off was overwhelming, and yet your cunt was all but dripping with arousal, your own wetness sticking to your inner thighs.

You seriously didn't think you'd be able to handle it if he were to tease you right now.

There were going to be numerous opportunities to let him fuck your mouth in the future. Preferably when you weren't in semi-public.

“Made a decision?” Ranpo eventually quipped, still working himself, and the way he was all but thrusting into his own fist, yet sounded entirely unaffected, made you clench around nothing.

God.

You hesitated for just a moment, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and watching with some satisfaction as Ranpo's gaze dropped down to your mouth. “Fuck me”, you said, then adding; “Please, just be quick about it.”

Ranpo smirked, wide and all teeth. “With pleasure, darling.”

A second later, you were being turned around, your cheek pushed against the shelf. Despite the position being anything but comfortable, you didn't protest when he flipped your skirt up, greedy hands going straight for your thighs, kneading soft skin through the thin fabric of your tights, only for them to rip a few moments later under his nails.

Your breathing stuttered in your chest as your legs were spread wide apart, your panties pushed down, and the fat head of Ranpo's dick nudged against your cunt. “You're absolutely terrible. I hope you'll get me a new pair.”

“You look prettier without them anyway.” Ranpo merely shrugged, unbothered, and just as you were about to say that this didn't get rid of the actual problem, it being the terribly obvious hole right over your crotch, he pushed into you with one smooth thrust.

The sudden stretch caused you to gasp, your back arching as you scrambled for purchase, finding nothing but a few old documents and the shelf's edge to hold onto.

“You could've at least prepared me.” Your voice was trembling. Luckily, Ranpo at least gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before he pulled out of you, only to thrust back in, his narrow hips slapping against your plush ass.

“Thought you wanted me to be quick about it.” His smirk was audible in his voice. “Besides, you're wet enough to take me either way.”

You weren't able to do much more than whimper in response. At a particularly sharp thrust, your knees buckled underneath your own weight and a high-pitched cry, terrifyingly loud, left your mouth.

Ranpo whistled. “Seems like you really want to be caught”, he commented, the teasing tone to his voice mean; one hand of his rested on your hip as his pace increased, his thrusts deep enough to make you moan again and again, even as you shook your head almost feverishly.

“No? Are you sure? If you wouldn't want that, you'd at least try to keep quiet, but I don't see you biting down on your lip or even just holding your hand in front of your mouth.”

The words earned another whimper from you; this time, you felt oddly caught, like you had been trying to draw attention to you on purpose, though that couldn't have been farther away from the truth.

“I bet you'd just love it if someone were to see you like this, spread open on my dick. Our lovely secretary, always ready to help us detectives out, even if it's just by spreading her pretty legs.” A quiet laugh as you clenched instinctively around him; a reaction based on humiliation not guilt, you were sure. “See? I knew it.”

You were panting by now, your eyelids drooping and whole body shaking. It was terribly obvious that Ranpo's grip on your hip was the only thing still keeping you standing as he ground his hips against yours with slow and deep thrusts that had you tightening, wet walls pulsing.

Your mewls turned more needy the closer you got, impatience obvious in your whiny tone, and just as you were sure you were about to come did Ranpo stop moving at once.

An unhappy noise left your mouth, but before you were able to complain, two lithe fingers pushed past your lips, effectively gagging you.

Moments later, you finally realised why Ranpo had stopped his merciless pace — there were steps, light and irregular, approaching the exact storage room you were currently hiding in.

There was no lock on the door.

You tensed, clenching around Ranpo's dick without meaning to; the action earned you a barely stifled grunt.

“Guess your kink about getting caught is going to become reality”, he said, his raspy voice right next to your ear. “Hope it's not the President.”

Just as you were about to tell him to shut up, the steadily growing louder noise of dress shoes against tiles stopped.

Then, sunlight from outside flooded your sight and your breath caught in your throat as someone stepped into the tiny room, immediately closing the door again.

Your eyes widened as they met dark brown ones.

“My, my; now would you look at that?” Dazai's teasing tone made your blood run cold; ice water coursing through your veins as the terrifying reality of the situation sunk in. “Someone's avoiding work, it seems. How terribly naughty of you both.”

Ranpo scoffed. “And what are you doing in here? Definitely not working, it appears.”

God, he was still inside of you, his dick hard and hot and so close to nudging against your g-spot, and yet his voice sounded entirely unaffected.

That shouldn't have been quite this hot.

“Ah, you caught me. Clever as always, Ranpo.” Dazai's smile was cheeky. “I'm hiding from Kunikida. I'm sure he'll cave and do my paperwork if I'm not around.”

“Seems we both need this room then.”

“Yes, it seems so.”

Suddenly, Ranpo thrust into you, his hips slapping against your plush ass, and you all but keened at the sudden stimulation.

A mere second later, however, you found yourself to be nothing but terrified.

“Ranpo”, you choked out, horrified and with wide eyes, though you clenched around his dick on pure instinct; “God, Ranpo, stop, we can't—”

Your face was tingling with heat and embarrassment, and your sudden humiliation only worsened when he didn't stop; instead, he picked up his previous rhythm again, slow deep thrusts that had you whimpering and whining.

“Why should I?” You were able to all but feel Ranpo's lips curl into a smirk against your throat. “You're enjoying yourself quite a lot. I don't see a reason to stop, darl.”

A choked out noise left your lips. “But Dazai—”

“Saying another man's name while it's Ranpo fucking you?” Dazai suddenly quipped, his eyes alight with amusement. “That's rather impolite, bella. I'm just saying, but I'd be quite upset if I were him.”

As if to prove a point, two of Ranpo's fingers, still wet with your saliva, squeezed your pebbled nipple, meanly enough to make you shriek.

Tears welled up in your eyes, embarrassment blooming hot and heavy in your chest. “Ranpo, but he's—”

Dazai smirked, wide and feral. “Please, don't stop on my account.”

Ranpo huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against your neck. “See? He doesn't mind”, he said, and that was that.

Moments later, he reached down with one hand, lithe fingers circling around your throbbing clit, and you whimpered as your knees buckled, your head spinning. Your chest was heaving with each sharp inhale you took, your nipples rubbing against the fabric of your blouse, and you briefly wondered that you were still able to stand with how weak you felt.

At once, you noticed the wet clicking noise distinct in the room, not quite matching the rhythm of Ranpo's movements. It took you a while to figure out that it came out of Dazai's direction.

You regretted looking up the moment your eyes met his.

Dazai had sat down on the edge of a cupboard, leaning back leisurely, and one hand of his was steadily jerking his own dick off, his thumb swiping over the fat head of his cock. Precum dribbled down the girth of it while he held your gaze, entirely unashamed; smug, if anything.

The sight tore an unexpected moan from you, your walls pulsing around Ranpo's dick, and Dazai's smile widened.

“Someone's naughty”, he cooed, voice all but dripping with mirth as he tilted his head to the side, the motion oddly feline. A cat that had already caught the canary. “Do you enjoy watching me get myself off? My, that's so lewd, love.”

You merely whimpered in response while pointedly turning your head away again — or at least trying to do so. The second you hid your face in the crook of your elbow, Ranpo's hand fisted in your hair, grabbing a good chunk of it to keep you from doing so, and the sudden blur of pain and pleasure pushed you over the edge.

You came with a high-pitched moan, and it didn't take much more than a few thrusts until Ranpo spilled inside of you, liquid warmth filling you up as a whine left his mouth.

"You look terribly adorable like this, darling”, Dazai crooned, his tone patronising, and you pressed your lips together tightly to avoid making any humiliating noises as Ranpo pulled out, your loose cunt immediately clenching around nothing.

Not that the situation was able to get even worse.

Dazai eventually reached his own orgasm with an undoubtedly exaggerated moan, though you weren't about to call him out for the deliberate way his head fell back, exposing his throat, as he thrust into his hand; not when the picture was one for the Gods.

Eventually, when your breathing had calmed down, you huffed, your eyes narrowed. Despite the way you glared at them both, you doubted you looked all that intimidating right now. Ranpo's cum was still dripping down your thigh. “I'm starting to think you both planned this.” Your voice trembled.

Dazai glanced at you. “And why would we do that?”

“Like I know.” The second you took a step forward, planning to leave the storage closet quickly and rush to the bathroom, your legs gave out. It was only thanks to Ranpo's sudden grip on your hip that you didn't fall, and before you knew it, he pushed you down onto Dazai's lap, green eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I know you did.”

“You're being paranoid, bella.” His grin told you you were being anything but. Not that you got any opportunity to respond; moments later, long fingers pushed into your mouth, sticky with cum. “Be good and clean that up for me, will you?”

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Dazai/reader -> recording

content: nsfw, dom Dazai, semi public sex, recording, fingering, degradation, exhibitionism | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~1,9k words | ao3 link | kinktober masterlist

You assumed there would have been some survival instinct that prevented you from making deals with the devil, and yet you found yourself right by Dazai's side once again, his arm curled around your waist.

His hand lingered just a tad too low for it to be an entirely innocent touch; your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as he guided you away from the crime scene, his smile sly.

Ranpo seemed to have solved the case already, anyway.

No one was going to notice you two disappearing into some shady alleyway.

Right?

As if somehow reading your mind, Dazai glanced at you. “You're not getting shy all of a sudden, are you, bella?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it; the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk.

You raised your shoulders in a shrug, uncertainty bleeding into your features. “I don't know, maybe we shouldn't—, I mean, we're here to support Ranpo, aren't we? We should just wait until we're home.”

“But where's the fun in that?”

You did your best not to flinch as, suddenly, his hand slipped underneath your blouse, lithe fingers pulling lightly at the lace of your bra.

“Besides, this way, you might not be supporting Ranpo, but you get to help me out in a special case. Isn't that nice?”

“I—, yeah. I guess so.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it, love. I promise I'll even be the one to explain to Kunikida where we ran off to.”

And, well, when he phrased it like that, who were you to protest?

Besides, you would have been a liar had you claimed that arousal wasn't already licking at you, having bloomed hotly in your abdomen ever since Dazai had begun to whisper terrible terrible ideas, promises, into your ear.

Despite having been in public, with Ranpo and some police officers mere meters away from you both, he didn't seem to have any issues with telling you in great detail just how he intended to make you come later; on his tongue and on his fingers until you were all but sobbing with pleasure, tears dripping down your flushed face.

Just the mere thought had you squeezing your thighs together in need and, while you had thought that Dazai, being the tease he was, had remained entirely unaffected by his own fantasies, that assumption was quickly proven untrue.

If he wasn't just as pent-up as you were, there would have been no reason for him to suggest a quick fuck in some dirty alleyway, after all.

“Alright, fine. Let's just be quick about it before anyone comes looking for us.”

Dazai chuckled, the noise soft. “Of course, bella.”

Mere moments later, you found yourself pinned face-first to a wall, the bricks cold against your skin, and you most likely would have complained about the more than uncomfortable position if it hadn't been for Dazai's fingers, which were quick to push against your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

“My, my, you're so wet already”, Dazai cooed, his voice sultry as he rubbed over your folds; you gave a low moan in response, your eyes fluttering closed. “That's quite naughty, bella. We were in public until just now, you know?”

You gasped as his thumb drew lazy circles around your clit, back arching on instinct despite the sensation still being dulled by your underwear. “Dazai—”

As if on cue, Dazai pulled away just a little, his fingers hooking underneath your panties and pulling to let them snap back against your skin. “Let's get rid of these, yes?”

God, you felt breathless already.

With a nod, you stepped out of your underwear and, before you were able to think about where to put it for now, Dazai all but snatched it from your hands, a smirk that never meant anything good on his lips.

“You won't be needing these for a while, bella.” Your panties vanished into one of his pockets, pink lace only barely peeking out, and your cheeks flushed with heat. His eyes sparkled with amusement while he flipped your skirt up, all but exposing you in damn public, though, luckily, no one seemed to be around. “Now, where were we?”

Before you had any chance to respond, one foot of his nudged your legs further apart, his grip on your hip keeping you balanced as you were forced to rest more of your weight against the wall.

Your breath caught in your throat when his free hand cupped your cunt from behind and, when he purposefully rubbed over your throbbing clit, a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything else left your throat.

“God, Dazai—”

“Quiet, love. We're not at home, you know?” he chastised, mirth dripping from his voice as two thin fingers were pushed into you with a wet squelching noise. Your thighs trembled. “If you're too loud, one of those pesky police officers might just come to investigate the noise he heard. You wouldn't want that, right?”

Despite the way you quickly shook your head in response — as much as you were able to anyway, with your cheek pressed to the wall —, you clenched around his fingers on instinct, wet walls pulsing, and Dazai chuckled.

“Oh? So you'd like that after all? My, how terribly naughty.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over your throat in a mockery of a kiss. “I have no interest in sharing you, however. Not today at least. So try and be quiet, yes, love? Otherwise I'll have to gag you.”

He snickered as you tightened around the digits instinctively. Entirely unhelpfully, your mind provided you with the thought of him forcing your own panties into your mouth and, God—, you really had to get a grip.

“Please”, you whined, voice breathy, “Come on, Dazai, stop teasing—”

At this point, your arousal was sticking to your inner thighs with how much you were gushing, your clit was aching with need, and, despite not being able to see it, you just knew Dazai's smirk widened at your plea.

“Ah, well, if you ask me this nicely, belladonna; how could I possibly deny you?”

Moments later, after he crooked his fingers inside of you on purpose once, rubbing over that one special spot, he pulled the digits out, only to push his dick into you a moment later.

The fat head of it spread you open, bullying its way into your cunt, and, luckily, you were wet and needy enough to be able to handle the stretch even without lube.

Dazai gave a low moan as he bottomed out inside of you, narrow hips flush with your ass, and you whimpered; your back arched into an elegant curve. God, he always filled you out so well, and you rolled your hips back against him, trying to get more stimulation, more pleasure. Needy.

“You really are impatient today, love.” Dazai's chuckle was mocking enough for your face to grow hot. His fingers feathered over your spine, the touch barely there yet everything you were able to focus on apart from how your chest was heaving. “Usually, you would have never agreed to doing this out here. What did it for you, I wonder? When I told you I want you to sit on my face that badly? Or the fact that I said just that in public?”

He already knew the answer and so did you; your high-pitched mewl was enough of a response. Seconds later, he pulled out only to thrust into you again, setting a hard and fast rhythm so very unlike his usual teasing pace; you cried out each time the tip of his cock hit that one spot inside of you, causing your sight to blur.

“Dazai”, you choked out, your voice shaking just as much as your body was, “Fuck, Dazai—”

One of his hands suddenly slipped underneath your skirt yet again, rubbing steadily over your clit; the direct stimulation had you flinching, though there was nowhere for you to go, not with the wall and Dazai's larger body caging you in from both sides.

“Ah, you're so tight, bella.” The raspy note to Dazai's voice made you shiver with pleasure. His following chuckle made you all but burn up from the inside out, liquid heat underneath your skin. “It's almost like you're sucking me in. Quite a greedy cunt you've got there.”

The words were terribly humiliating; tears welled up in your eyes from embarrassment alone. Despite wanting to respond, the only coherent thought you managed to think of was Dazai's name, which you were steadily choking out, your voice high-pitched.

Steady circles were drawn around your aching clit, feeling like overwhelmingly much and too little at once, though, seconds later, Dazai paused in his movements.

Suddenly, there was an odd clicking noise; it took you a few seconds to place it, though once you did, a whine caught in your throat. Your brows furrowed into an unhappy frown as Dazai snickered, mirth all but dripping from his voice; just like your arousal was dripping down your thighs, sticky and wet.

“Smile for the camera, yes, belladonna?” he crooned, smirk evident in his tone alone, and, God; instead of doing just that, you were quick to hide your face in the crook of your arm, though Dazai's triumphant chuckle told you he already got a good shot of your fucked out expression.

“Dazai—, don't be a jerk, don't, ah—”

“Oh, quit whining, love. It's not your face I'm filming right now, that's for sure.” Dazai merely laughed in response, breathy and low.

His dick twitched inside of you as you whimpered again, the noise pitiful. His pace was slower than before, though he at least kept thrusting into you; a quick glance over your shoulder revealed that, now, his phone was angled between your legs, and you clenched around him on instinct at how terribly lewd that was.

The thought of him catching everything on camera — how wet you were, how needy, how your cunt was all but speared open on his dick and what embarrassing noises steadily fell from your lips — caused heat to lick at your insides, the thought humiliating yet terribly arousing, and Dazai chuckled.

“You take me so well, don't you, bella?” he crooned, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your hip. “Such a good girl. It's like you're made to take my cock.”

Suddenly, he once more rubbed over your clit, his thumb pressing down on it, and you cried out as you came, your sight blurry.

Moments later, Dazai reached his own orgasm, though you were too out of it to notice anything but him eventually pulling out and buckling his trousers back up.

Another clicking noise; you didn't even have the energy to protest as Dazai snapped some more pictures of your cunt, now loose and gaping around nothing. Pearly globs of cum dripped out of you and down your thighs; your face flushed with heat.

You vaguely noticed that your skirt was smoothed out again; your legs felt unstable as you stood upright again, clutching onto his arm for support.

“That lovely video will certainly keep me company during lonely nights.” Dazai's smirk was cheeky. Then, he reached into his pocket, only to spin a piece of pink lace around his finger. You all but sputtered at the sight. “Ah, and this will too, of course.”

➛ if you comment i will kiss you on the mouth... or even marry you....

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Syrup #481F01 — Dazai Osamu

he's a literal mess || 0.2k

“I left for like two minutes.” Your exasperated voice made Osamu straighten up, which made it comically hard to keep a straight face. 

Because his face was drenched in syrup. It was dripping down his chin, slicked over his cheeks, splashed up over his eyebrows and forehead— part of his bangs were even oily looking and matted from where syrup had clung to the ends.

“Bella!” His dopey smile and giddy tone made him look absolutely ridiculous…and irritatingly cute. “I can explain!” 

“Can you really, though?” 

“…no. But I can say that my pancake was delicious.” 

You made him walk up to the register and pay, by himself, and then made him walk all the way to your apartment with the syrup still dripping and slowly drying. 

He wasn’t really complaining— especially not when it landed him perched in the bath like a pleased cat, happily letting you scrub at his hair and face.

There wasn’t anything other than sheer fondness that you could make yourself feel in that moment. And a little smile stayed glued on your expression as you cleaned him thoroughly. 

And once he was all unsticky and syrup free, you dried him off, combed his hair, and dressed him— almost like a porcelain doll too fragile to be rough with.

“I love you.” 

His quiet spoken confession caught your ears; such seriousness was rare with Osamu. 

“I love you, ‘samu…even when you wear your food.”

dazai is so clingy. he's always up in your personal space, leaving you no room to breathe – he's got a hand around your shoulder or maybe your waist, he's laying his head on your lap, he's fidgeting with your fingers and he's playing with your hair. he's all over you at all times but—

it gets so much worse when he's sleepy.

suddenly, he is no longer human, but a koala instead. he's glued to your side with not even an inch between your bodies, his limbs curling around you as if he's going to slip and fall onto the ground and turn into a sad, wet puddle of goo if he were to let go of you.

he's hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you're washing the dishes; he's mumbling something, whining and begging for you to baby him. he's got no shame, this is who he is. he wants you to hold him and coddle him, to play with his hair and coo at him. it's ridiculous really.

but who are you to refuse him?

you know he doesn't sleep well on his own, so now when he's clearly showing you how comfortable he is with you, how safe he feels, it's impossible to say no. his behaviour couldn't be any further from being annoying – you will not brush him off nor will you downplay his needs. if he wants to be pampered like some royalty, like the prince that he is, then that's exactly what you'll do.

you don't try to pry him off of you, you do the opposite instead – you pull him even closer and revel in the faint sigh that slips from his lips. he won't say thank you, you know he won't, but the way he melts into your body as you hold him is more than enough.

and when he finally dozes off on top of you with your one hand in his hair and the other drawing hearts into his shoulder blade, your chest swells with pride. the little snores are like music to your ears, his steady breath tickling your skin as he finds solace in your loving embrace. his slowed heartbeat is starting to lull you to sleep aswell but you won't even try to resist the pull of the dream, your heavy eyelids falling shut as you press one final kiss of the night to your lover's forehead.

in denial of being in love with you, his friend

He isn’t interested in anyone. No, really. He- he doesn’t like you at all. Well- he likes you as a friend ! Yeah ! A friend ! He totally doesn’t notice when your style has changed from before, or when your nails get done. Or uh- how you changed your lipgloss and that you switched your perfume for another one. And he totally, totally doesn’t notice when your hair is at least one inch shorter than yesterday. Yep, he just likes you as a really, really close friend ! He really, honestly doesn’t talk about you for hours, describing how perfect and heaven sent you are. Doesn’t daydream about dating you and proposing and then getting married haha . . . Yeah. 

☆ sunday , aventurine , 18dazai , s1gojo , megumi , chuuya , reo , kaiser , isagi

keep it in your pocket

"he's mentally ill"

Bitch I'm mentally ill and that's why we are soulmates.

when you confess to your crush only to get rejected, so your best friend steps in to comfort you <3

---

the floor was a mess, phones and clothes hurriedly tossed off on it. the only sounds that could be heard were your pants and the creaks of the bed as it rattled with each thrust. your vision was blurry. you couldn't remember how you got here, or if this was even real.

he - your best friend - was on top of you, rutting in and out of you at an inhumane pace, occasionally muttering about how good you are to him and how your crush doesn't deserve the love you wished to give him.

you tried to reply, to tell him that he was right, your crush was a jerk. but instead you choked out a pathetic whine as he pinched your clit. he smiled, saying he was the one who deserved you more, because, well, look how well he fucks you. he can make you laugh, cry, whine, moan, all while muttering just a few phrases.

was this what you expected when you told him your crush rejected you? no. will you purposely get rejected again just to get this treatment? fuck, yes.

---

DAZAI DAZAI DAZAI chuuya NIKOLAI fyodor GOJO SATORUU TOJI geto vanitas aizawa light MELLO levi EREN

triple black

bungou stray dogs x gojo! reader

masterlist of infinity

╰➤ CW(s): major spoilers for bungou stray dogs (dragon’s head conflict), jujutsu kaisen (gojo’s past arc and jujutsu kaisen 0 is heavily referenced) and mentions of violence

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: an alternate universe in which the young holder of the six eyes and limitless ability user is under the influence of port mafia rather than heiwa, along with two other young mafiosos, nakahara chuuya and dazai osamu.

╰➤ PAIRING(s): 17! dazai & 17! chuuya x 17! reader (no established relationship, can be romantic or platonic)

╰➤ WORD COUNT: 3.4k+

honestly didn’t know what i was going for, but here’s a drabble i made while stressing over school :“) enjoy

chuuya and dazai were about seventeen years old when the port mafia boss summoned them both to his office. it has been roughly a year since the dragon’s head conflict, an 88-day underground conflict in yokohama between various underground organizations that is regarded as the darkest conflict in the city’s history. it has also been a year since the formation of double black.

however, being an underground organization always meant violence and bloodshed, resulting in the emergence of another conflict, this time fought solely by the port mafia, so the two young mafiosi weren’t surprised when an underground organization had declared war on their’s.

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ᡣ𐭩 SOMETIMES ALL I THINK ABOUT IS YOU (LATE NIGHTS IN THE MIDDLE OF JUNE)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: realizing you have no idea when dazai's birthday is, you and chuuya embark on a massive quest to figure it out. and you do—but you also find out something far more worrying in the process, making you question if you ever really knew dazai osamu. the issue? you have no way of bringing it up to him. but you'll have to worry about that later anyway. first things first: you have to plan a birthday that dazai will never forget. {sfw, 14.8k}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: AHHHHHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BOYYYYYYYY im so proud of how this fic came out genuinely its my favorite thing ive written to date. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (warnings: fem!reader, mostly fluff with some angst sprinkled in at the beginning and end)

“Hey, do you know when Dazai’s birthday is?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, do you ever stop thinking about him?”

Your jaw drops as Chuuya lets out the loud complaint, head snapping to the side to focus on where he’s sitting in the chair at the tattoo parlor near headquarters, cheek pressed against the headrest, glaring at you as the artist continues to work on the right half of his upper back, finishing up the last section of the art spanning across his entire back. It’s his biggest one yet, you can hardly see an inch of unmarked skin—bright reds of camellia flowers and different types of animals and objects centered around the skull of a ram decorate his back. It’s beautiful, you have to acknowledge that, you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a stunning tattoo before and Chuuya is beyond pleased with how it’s turning out considering how he’s constantly pulling off his shirt to look at it in a mirror whenever he gets the chance.

To honor the Flags, he’d told you when he dragged you along for the first session. You didn’t know most of them—you’d worked with Lippmann a few times considering his job within the Mafia, and you’d met with Iceman to give him the rundown on targets that needed to be handled when Mori would send him to you in Kyoto, but that was about the extent of your interaction with them. Chuuya’d been closer to them—he didn’t like to talk about them at first, but he’s gradually been more and more open with it.

You think it’s because he’s afraid of forgetting them.

“You’re an asshole,” you snap after getting over the shock of his rude comment, turning your head away to look out the window.

Dazai evades the two of you whenever Chuuya has one of his sessions scheduled. You think it’s kind of funny, honestly; you know he does it because he hates pain and he knows that if he joins you guys, Chuuya will somehow goad him into getting a tattoo with a dare or a challenge that he won’t be able to back down from. So, instead, he makes excuses for missions that you both know damn well he doesn’t have.

“No, I don’t know,” he finally says irritably. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

You give him an appalled look. “He’s your friend, and your partner. What do you mean you don’t know?”

“That bastard is not my friend,” Chuuya instantly hisses, but you can’t help but notice that he suddenly looks troubled by the realization that he doesn’t know Dazai’s birthday.

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes, knowing damn well that it’s a blatant lie. “That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Is not,” Chuuya spits.

“Is too.” 

Chuuya would have kept going with the back and forth, but he’s given a sharp look by the tattoo artist working on his shoulder and he settles down, but not before shooting you one last withering look.

“I bet he knows your birthday,” you add after a few moments of silence, just to trigger Chuuya again.

It works.

He lets out a noise more befitting of an animal, head snapping back to the side to look at you. “He definitely does n-” He cuts himself off before he can even finish the sentence, glaring at you. “That’s because that freak knows everything somehow.”

You only give him an easy shrug. “Just saying, it’s a bit…” You give him a twisted expression, nose wrinkled and lips pressed together rather than saying the word out loud, and Chuuya looks murderous. 

“It’s a bit what?” Chuuya demands. “You don’t know his birthday either.”

“I’m not his partner,” you counter to hide the fact that you are very bothered over not knowing his birthday.

“No, you’re just his girlfriend,” Chuuya says snidely.

Your face heats up. “I am not his girlfriend, Chuuya,” you scowl. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chuuya replies sarcastically, giving the tattoo artist an apologetic look when he gives the ginger another sharp warning with his eyes. “If Dazai wanted us to know his birthday, he would have told us. Y’know how secretive he gets over his personal life—he’d be shouting it off every rooftop if it was something he wanted us to do something about.”

You’re not quite as convinced.

At first glance, Dazai doesn’t shut up—he finds any and every reason to hear himself speak, whether it be random facts about crabs or ranking methods of suicide from least to most painful. Because of his tendency to run his mouth, most people don’t realize just how secretive he is about his personal life. You’ve realized that he probably uses it as a tactic to evade questions, because when people do poke and prod about his personal life, he becomes avoidant, expertly redirecting the conversation to something less personal by subtly changing the subject or pissing off whoever (Chuuya) is talking to him. You always catch it—conversation manipulation is your thing, you’ve finely honed your skills in guiding discussion to your discretion, it’s a skill that comes in handy at the negotiation table and in politics. You know he knows that you catch it too, always watching you carefully to ensure that you don’t call any attention to what he’s doing.

You don’t, of course, you’re not going to put him on the spot like that, but you don’t understand it. Well, you can to an extent—if you had random people prodding at your personal life, you’d also evade the topic. But you and Chuuya aren’t random people. You’re his friends, and you can’t for the life of you understand why he won’t open up to the two of you a little.

Every time you bring up the subject of him to him, he starts acting strange and cagey, like he knows that his evasion tactics won’t work with you and he wants to say something, but simply can’t get the words out. Maybe it’s his mistaken belief that he doesn’t deserve all of the things other people take for granted: comfort, friends, happiness. But still, you can’t imagine that Dazai doesn’t crave the experience of a normal birthday—well, as normal as things can get for teenage mafiosos—because you know that Dazai at his core simply wants to be a normal teenager.

As to why Dazai would rather deny himself happiness than to let you and Chuuya closer than arm's length? The answer alludes you even you.

When Chuuya grimaces, letting out a heavy breath and averting his gaze, you think that he’s come to the same conclusion as you.

“I assume since you’re bringing it up, you have some sort of plan?” Chuuya sighs, tired.

You smile.

“Naturally.”

You think Chuuya might kill you after this.

You can’t help but snort to yourself as you kneel on the floor next to Mori’s desk, rifling through his drawers to find the key to his file cabinet. Chuuya is somewhere downstairs trying to keep the man distracted with a fake medical condition while you try to find Dazai’s file in his office. You can hear him in the ear piece you’re wearing, flustered and stuttering over his words. You can almost picture how red his face is. 

Chuuya isn’t a bad liar, usually—in fact, he can act his ass off on missions—but lying to the Boss is an entirely different story. You think that you probably should have been the one to keep Mori distracted, but you worried that if Mori got up here and Chuuya was still searching, he wouldn’t be able to play it off. So, this was the lesser of two evils. 

Mori is getting increasingly more irritated as Chuuya keeps miswording the symptoms and backtracking, then blaming it on how ‘his head just hurts so bad, he can’t think.’ You’re sure he’s starting to suspect something—or more likely, the man probably figured it out right away—but you also know he’s too hyper-paranoid about losing his strongest ability user to dismiss Chuuya’s blatant lies for what they are.

You let out a victorious puff of air when your hand encloses around the key you’d been searching for, immediately shuffling over to the file cabinet, unlocking it as quickly as you can to shuffle through them, trying to find Dazai’s.

Mori has too many files, you think to yourself frustrated, eyes scanning as fast as you can as you flip through them, trying to spot the one you need, becoming increasingly more frantic when you hear Mori and Chuuya enter the elevator, not sure if they’re coming up to his office or if Mori’s dragging Chuuya down to one of the lower floor infirmaries.

Fuck, you think, finally flipping through to the D’s and letting out a frustrated groan when his file isn’t even there. You go through it again, more carefully this time, and nearly tug out your hair when you realize that either Mori misplaced Dazai’s file or there isn’t one. But you can’t imagine either of those options being true.

Getting increasingly more anxious as the seconds pass, and knowing that Chuuya actually will kill you if he embarrassed himself like this for nothing, you start rifling through the other letters in a panic. From the A’s all the way to the Z’s, it’s only on your second scan through that you pause, spotting a thick, unnamed file in the T section.

You stare at it for a moment, brows furrowed, a gut feeling twisting inside you as you try to pull out the file. It’s a struggle—the file is thick and the drawer is stuffed, but when you finally get it out and flip it open, your eyes widen when Dazai’s face stares back at you in the top left corner of the first paper in the file. He’s younger in the picture—no older than thirteen or fourteen—both eyes uncovered, black and void of life.

You let out a shaky breath, heart racing as your eyes scan dismissively over any information that’s not his birthday, because you know damn well Dazai will not take kindly to yours and Chuuya’s snooping and you want to mitigate the damage, only to halt when your gaze catches on blacked out information right above the date.

His name?

You pause, eyes focusing momentarily as you try to understand what you’re reading.

NAME:  ████████████████ 

ALIAS: Dazai Osamu

What?

You don’t know how long you stare at the file, lips parted and a torrent of emotions clawing at your chest. Mainly confusion, but also something else—tighter, more unwelcome. You don’t even have time to try to figure out what you’re looking at because at once, the remote in your pocket is buzzing, the last signal from Chuuya that Mori is on the floor of his office.

You let out a string of curses, putting the file back where you found it, locking the cabinet and putting the key back before darting to the other side of the desk. You mask the confusion and nerves rattling your mind and body with an irritated expression just as the door opens.

“… ggest that you take some time to rest, Chuuya-kun. Physically, there is nothing wrong with you.”

You look over your shoulder, eyes meeting Mori’s as you frown deeply. “You’re late,” you say. “I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes.”

“Ah, apologies, I’m afraid young Chuuya-kun has spent the past twenty minutes following me around with nonexistent health issues,” Mori replies with a thin smile, purple eyes carding over you before he looks around his office curiously, as if he knows you’d been up to something but doesn’t know what. Chuuya cringes next to him and gives you a withering look, he opens his mouth to protest but Mori is speaking again before he can get anything out. “What did you want to discuss?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the situation in Vladivostok,” you say, eyes following Mori, waiting for him to sit down so you can. You watch as he glances around his desk, as if trying to figure out what you’d been doing before he showed up. You almost smile when his eyes narrow after coming empty handed. “I think it would be in our best interest…” 

As you sit down across from Mori, you slip your hands behind your back, giving Chuuya a thumbs up, letting him know that his humiliation was not in vain.

Step one, complete. June 19th.

“I will never fucking forgive you for that,” Chuuya hisses when the two of you finally leave Mori’s office. “Never. That was humiliating.”

You snort. “It was pretty bad.”

“Fuck you,” Chuuya snaps. His face is still on fire, has been for the past twenty minutes as you explained your plan for the new organization rising to power in eastern Russia. “Well? When is his birthday?”

You cringe and Chuuya is instantly glowering at you. “Don’t even tell me you didn’t find it. You gave me the thumbs up. I’ll-”

“No, I got it,” you say dismissively. 

That’s not what you’re cringing over—you’re cringing for two reasons: 1) his birthday is less than five days away and you have no idea how the two of you are going to figure something out before then, and 2) the reminder of Dazai’s file, its misplaced location and the blacked out information where his name should have been, the alias labeling what you thought was his real name.

Your lips part to bring it up to Chuuya, but you hesitate because you don’t know if you should. The last thing you want to do is upset Dazai because you let something out that he didn't want anyone to know.

“Well?” Chuuya demands. “What is it?”

“June 19th,” you say, watching as Chuuya blanches. “Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do in four days?” Chuuya hisses, grabbing your shoulder and forcing you to look at him. “I don’t even know what that bastard would want.”

You’re just as lost, grimacing as you rub the back of your neck. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Dazai never really… wants for anything.”

You stare ahead listlessly, leaning against the elevator wall as the two of you head down to the first floor. Dazai likes playing video games, but he gets bored of them quickly. His room is stacked with games he’s played once and then tossed to the side. He likes crab, but you’re not going to get him canned crab for his birthday. He likes suicide, and you’re pretty sure a new edition of that wretched book of his came out, but you also don’t want to get him that for, well, obvious reasons.

“Maybe we can get him a pet crab?” Chuuya frowns.

“He’ll kill it,” you dismiss, “and then he’ll spend months whining over it. And blaming us.”

“Fair enough.”

The elevator door slides open as the two of you reach the bottom floor, and you watch as the subordinates meandering about incline their heads toward the two of you as you pass by. You only absently wave them off, mind racing as you try to figure out what to do for Dazai’s birthday. Crab, suicide, video games—what else could Dazai possibly like?

You think the only other thing is-

Oh. Oh. You have an idea.

A smile spreads across your face. “Chuuya,” you say, relieved, “I have the best idea-”

“There you guys are,” Dazai’s familiar voice rings from the right, and immediately, Chuuya gives you a sharp, panicked look and you shut your mouth, stiffening. “I was…”

Dazai trails off, and you briefly shut your eyes, because wow, that was entirely unsubtle. Dazai’s smile is more strained now and the shine in his dark eye fades, the palpable excitement withers away in a matter of seconds.

Fuck.

“I see,” Dazai says, voice cool and withdrawn. “You guys are busy. It wasn’t important anyway.”

“Dazai,” you call after him, taking a few steps, but the boy has already whirled around, stalking off the way he came. He ignores your call of his name. “Shit.”

“He totally took that the wrong way,” Chuuya says, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“How astute, Chuuya,” you say dryly, chest tight as Dazai disappears around the corner.

“You know, for someone who brags about not needing anyone, he’s pretty fucking sensitive,” Chuuya notes.

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Chuuya,” you snap at him, but the redhead only shrugs carelessly in response.

“It’s the truth. Anyway, what was your idea?” 

Even with the weight of Dazai clearly being upset heavy on your chest, the reminder of your idea for his birthday still causes a sly smile to spread across your lips.

“You’re gonna love this.”

Not only was Dazai upset, but he was upset enough that he hasn’t come back to your apartment in three and a half days. You figure he must be back at his shipping container, or maybe staying with those other friends of his, but you feel lonely without him. It’s weird not coming back to your apartment to find him lounging on your couch eating your favorite snacks; it’s different when he has missions and can’t be here, right now? He’s choosing to not be here, and that makes you feel gross and uncomfortable.

You feel bad, and no matter how many times Chuuya tells you to look on the bright side—that you guys can plan his birthday without him constantly hovering, figuring out what the two of you are doing—it just makes you feel worse. 

You’re sitting in your apartment waiting for Chuuya when the elevator bings, signaling someone coming up to your apartment—and considering there’s only two people who the front desk let up without your explicit permission, and one of them is still dealing with issues at one of the ports, which flooded from all of the rain the past few days, there’s only one person who it can be.

Your eyes widen as your head snaps up, looking to the elevator as the doors slide open, revealing Dazai fumbling with something in his jacket as he steps out. He doesn’t even notice you until you rise to your feet, and when he does, he’s instantly guarded. 

“You’re supposed to be on a mission,” he accuses, voice low.

You’re a bit hurt that Dazai only showed up to your apartment because he thought you wouldn’t be here but you mask it with a tilt of your head and a curious expression.

“I am on a mission,” you say, and it’s not a lie—the mission is finalizing the plans for Dazai’s birthday, step two starts in four hours and you need to confirm things with Chuuya before it begins. What awful timing, you realize mournfully, because you do want to smooth things out with Dazai but right now you can’t afford to. “It’s one I can do at home.”

Dazai makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, gaze focusing on the folders laid out in front of you. Closed, luckily, you’d been skimming through one but you got bored while waiting for Chuuya and decided to scroll on your phone.

“I only came to pick up my other jacket,” Dazai finally says, voice still cold and distant—you hate it.

Your eyes track down to Dazai’s coat, noticing the blood that’s dripping from it onto your wood floor.

You cringe, but then extend an olive branch by asking, “Want me to throw it in the wash?”

Dazai hesitates, a reluctant expression crossing his face but he nods, slipping it off his shoulders and padding over to you slowly, handing it to you carefully so as to not get the blood on your couch. Your fingers brush his as he does and your throat spasms a bit.

Dazai draws back quickly, but then he looks down at the files in front of you, and then back to you and asks, “… Want help with that?”

Shit.

This is Dazai’s olive branch, and you have to reject it. Because then he’ll realize this is no mission, and all of the plans for his birthday will go to waste.

“Nah,” you say easily. “It’s fine. It’s quick, where were you heading out to?”

Dazai looks a little put out by your rejection, but he doesn’t look too bothered, so he probably took your lie as truth.

“Bar Lupin.”

You roll your eyes.

Dazai gives you a dirty look.

“I don’t know why you get so jealous about them,” Dazai says pettily, obviously trying to get a retaliatory dig in for whatever wound he thinks he received the other day. Your eye twitches at the accusation. “I knew Odasaku before you.”

You pause at that.

Does Oda know Dazai’s real name? You’re hit with a wave of vicious jealousy, and faced once again with the back and forth you’ve been dealing with the past three days—do you really know Dazai? He’s always hid a lot from you, you knew that, but to realize that you only know him by an alias… You don’t understand it—is it by choice? Does he just no longer want to associate with that name? If that’s the case, then you don’t even want to ask and make him uncomfortable. 

But what if it’s not? What if Dazai Osamu is just a fake persona he’s built to hide his real self? You doubt he’s a spy, Mori would obviously know but… if it was Mori that forced him to take on a new name and identity? If he wants to let people in but can’t? You remember all of the times when you ask him things and he stares at you as if he wants to answer but doesn’t know how.

“You shouldn’t think too much, your small brain will implode.”

“Fuck you.”

Drawn from your thoughts, you glare at Dazai, who only gives you a simpering smile in return, eye regaining that little bit of shine it’d lost when he ran into you and Chuuya that day. Then he hesitates again and you raise your eyebrows.

“I’ll call things off with Odasaku and Ango? … You picked out that movie last week, we never watched it. We can watch it after you finish up?” His voice is quiet, uncertain and you feel like a cunt, because you have no way of saying no without being a cunt. 

You’d already told him that the mission wouldn’t take long, so you can’t use that as an excuse. You think maybe you should just call off tonight with Chuuya, meet at his apartment later on to try to get things for dawn, when everything is to take place. It would be risky, you don’t know if you can pull off such an elaborate scheme with such little preparation and Dazai, of all people, as the target, but you think you’d rather risk that then say no to him right now. 

Your lips part to agree, mind already racing trying to figure out how to get all the folders out of here before his nosy ass can peak at one of them, but you’re interrupted by your elevator binging. Again.

Oh, fuck.

Dazai stills as his gaze cuts backward, eye sharp as the elevator doors slide open and reveal an irritated Chuuya, soaked up to the waist and covered in mud.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya seethes. “I’m never helping out at the ports again. They’re fucking incompetent, I-”

Chuuya pauses when he sees Dazai. Dazai doesn’t budge. For a split second, not a single one of you dares to move. You can see the quick cogs within Dazai’s mind turning as he pieces together an answer—why you didn’t accept his help, why you took so long to respond. Dread piles in your stomach as you try to figure out what to say only to come up empty-handed. For someone known for a quick tongue and sharp brain, you always somehow find them failing you when faced with conflict with Dazai. 

Finally, Dazai breaks the silence with a cool smile and a mirthful look in his eye, glancing back at you.

“That’s why you wanted me out of here. Okay.” He leaves no room for questions, doesn’t even bother to go into his bedroom to grab his other jacket before stalking forward and entering the elevator Chuuya just came out of, not even acknowledging his partner before smacking the button to the first floor.

“Dazai!” you call after him, taking a few steps toward the elevator but he only turns his chin as the doors slide shut. You shout after him angrily, “And you say I’m the jealous one!” but you doubt he even heard it.

“That bastard has the worst fucking timing ever,” Chuuya says as soon as he’s gone, unperturbed.

You give Chuuya a withering look, wanting to curl up on your couch and die. So you do that. The weight on your chest that had only just finally started to relieve itself from you returns with a vengeance, and you suddenly feel like you want to cry, unsure of how everything has gone so wrong the past few days when you just want to do something nice for him. You tuck your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, placing your chin on top of them.

“Relax,” Chuuya says, tossing himself onto the couch next to you; you don’t even have it in you to be annoyed by the water and mud, shoulders slumping as he tosses an arm around you and lets you lean into him. “It’ll be fine. Blockhead won’t even know what hit him tomorrow. C’mon, let’s get this finished so we’re ready to go.”

“… You want us to… kidnap the Demon Prodigy?”

Your subordinates stare, expressions pale and aghast as they share looks with one another. You stand resolute, head held high, and Chuuya raises his eyebrows next to you. Your eye twitches at the moniker that follows Dazai everywhere.

“That’s what we said, yes,” you say, frowning. “Was I unclear?”

“No, hime-” You roll your eyes at yet another one of Mori’s ghastly titles.

He must find it quite amusing, pleased with himself every time he watches you turn green with disgust when he insists on using the term. Even worse, it seems he’s somehow managed to coax your subordinates into using the shitty moniker too. The old man must really enjoy pissing you off, he’s certainly very skilled at it. 

Your lip curls up in irritation when your subordinate continues.

“It’s just-what if-”

“You will not be punished for targeting an executive,” you say dismissively. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“We fear that the Demon Prodigy will… draw his gun when threatened,” the man continues, grimacing as if trying to choose his words carefully. You don’t recognize him—you think you should probably get to know your subordinates better, you’ve left most dealings with them to your partner, Itou… who you also have to get in contact with for this plan to work. You wince, realizing you still have much more to do within the next few hours. “How should we proceed if he does?” 

“Dazai probably will.” You stress his name, giving the man a withering look. To his credit, he winces and looks away. “But he will also be drunk, and slower, taken off guard, so you will… Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have the advantage over even a drunk and surprised Dazai, but there are more of you, so there’s that.”

“Way to inspire confidence,” Chuuya mutters dryly.

You shrug, “I’m not going to delude them before sending them out. They should be prepared to take a bullet or two. Hopefully nonlethal—you have bullet proof vests.”

“You’re fucked up,” Chuuya snorts, before turning his attention to the dozen or so gathered subordinates. “There will be minimal risk, and remember, nobody is to know about this. Nobody. Not even the other executives, or the Boss.”

“Especially not the Boss,” you add. “For the next day and a half, you’re relieved of duties. Go back to your families, or get shit-faced drunk, but don’t come back to headquarters. Under any circumstances. Clear?” 

The men exchange looks with one another, uncertain. “And if he draws his gun?” the man prods again. 

You share a look with Chuuya from the corner of your eye. “He’s not to be injured,” you finally say, voice firm, not leaving any room for doubt. “Under any circumstances. Inject him with this, you’ll be fine.”

You pull from your pocket a sedative that you’d pocketed from Mori’s office before, dangling it in front of them, waiting for one of them to reach out and take it. When they do, you lean back on your heels and look at them.

“This has to be successful,” you tell them, finally starting to feel the pinpricks of anxiety run through your chest the closer it gets to go-time. Dazai is so mad at you right now, and if this fails, it’ll make things ten times worse. Failure isn’t an option—it never is, but especially not now. “I won’t accept anything less.”

“Yes ma’am,” one of your subordinates murmurs and the rest echo, half of them look as if they’re marching off to their death and you absently make yourself a note to give them a big bonus this month. “Can we at least know why we’re kidnapping the De-Executive Dazai?” 

You smile. 

“It’s his birthday gift.”

Dazai is in a bad mood.

Oda watches curiously as the boy downs his seventh (eighth?) drink, wondering if he should tell him to slow down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Ango cringing, lips parted as if to speak but then reconsidering as he shakes his head and takes a sip of his own alcohol, looking thoroughly concerned. Dazai hasn’t said a word since he showed up two hours ago in a foul mood, and every time Oda opens his mouth to ask, Ango gives him the sharpest look and Oda instantly shuts his mouth.

“I think the slug is dating-” Dazai finally speaks, voice rough, right hand clenched around his glass of whiskey. It’s as if he can’t even bring himself to say the words and Oda’s eyes narrow as he studies him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “I think the slug is dating… her.”

Her. He must mean you. You’re pretty much the only ‘her’ that Dazai ever refers to—goes on about you nonstop whenever he gets a few drinks in him.

“That’s nice,” Oda says without thinking, until he sees the horrified look cast his way by Ango. “That’s awful.”

“It is awful,” Dazai agrees with a hiss. “It’s awful. I hate it. It’s disgusting.”

Oh, Oda realizes, a bit more amused, grateful that Dazai is too busy glaring into his drink to see the smile that curls to the corner of his lips. Oda had suspected that Dazai has a crush on you just from the way he talks about you—going from long winded rants of how agonizing you are to live with (as if he doesn’t actively choose to live with you) to wistful recounts admiring your missions (although those quickly shift into rants, as if Dazai catches himself yearning and has to make up for it by acting like it never happened). 

Oda and Ango realized that Dazai was obsessed with you months ago—back before the Dragon’s Head Conflict even ended, not long after you showed up, actually, when he first started talking about you. Oda assumed that it was a kiddie crush that he’d grow out of, but here he is a year later, just as infatuated—if not more so.

Cute.

“What-” Ango begins only for his voice to waver, glaring at Oda when he sees the smile on the man’s lips. He sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose before retrying. “What makes you think they’re dating?” 

“The other day I went looking for them and I found them together, and I was gonna ask them to go to the arcade with me, but as soon as they saw me, they got all stiff and uncomfortable like they didn’t want me there.” 

Dazai almost sounds hurt by it—words strung out a bit long, lips curved down. It’s not often that Oda gets to see him act like the sixteen (seventeen now? Oda realizes he doesn’t even know the boy’s age and makes a note to ask) year old that he is, and while it’s unfortunate that this one is stemmed by him feeling rejected by his friends, he also can’t help but smile at it. Which Ango catches from the appalled look that the other man gives him.

Oda smothers the smile again instantly.

“That doesn’t mean that they’re dating,” Ango begins, trying to be reasonable, but is cut off when Dazai tosses him a sharp glare.

“And then,” Dazai continues, “I went home before because I thought she was going to be on a mission, but she was there working on it, and I offered to help her with it so she could finish faster, but she said no. And I didn’t think anything of it, but then I said I was going to reschedule with you guys for another day so we could watch a movie, and she didn’t respond at first, and I thought that was weird, and then guess what? The slug showed up. She was blowing me off to hang out with him.”

Wow, Oda thinks to himself. That’s a lot to break down. 

Home. Oda is careful this time to not let his lips quirk up into a smile but it’s impossible to hide the fond look in his eyes as he looks down at a sulking Dazai, who has slumped over the bar top, absently playing with the spherical ice in his drink. Oda has never heard Dazai refer to anything as home before. His shipping container had always just been the shipping container, and up until, well, today, your apartment had always just been your apartment. Ango catches the wording too from the way his eyes widen a bit.

And then on top of that, Dazai? Offering to help someone with work? Oda thinks there’s a better chance of fire raining from the sky. Oda is realizing that this really is more than a kiddie crush—not that Dazai would probably ever acknowledge that. Oda wonders if he should help him get there. 

“That doesn’t mean they’re dating,” Oda finally says, taking a sip of his drink and ignoring the way Ango gives him a side eye, focusing instead on how Dazai turns his head to the side to look at Oda. If Oda didn’t know any better, he’d say the boy is pouting. “They might be planning something for you, don’t want you around for it. You had that mission recently, didn’t you? The one everyone said would fail?”

Oda realizes, a bit too late, that if that is the case, he just ruined the surprise and silently apologies for it. But Dazai doesn’t seem to take him seriously anyway, rolling his eye as he returns to bouncing the ice in the glass.

“Yeah, right,” he says dryly. “No one does anything like that for me.”

Oda purses his lips, not responding, and Ango sighs as he looks away. Oda tries to figure out what to say, testing some words on his tongue but they all feel wrong.

Finally, he chooses to just be blunt. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

The noise Ango lets out is all but a whimper, he buries his face in his hands as if to disappear. Dazai’s gaze cuts to the side, head turning slowly as he focuses on Oda.

“What?”

Oda thinks maybe he should stop talking, but he doesn’t, naturally. “Y’know—you could just tell her how you feel,” Oda repeats, seeing the way Ango is shaking his head frantically but he continues anyway. “Telling her would save you from doing this once a week.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Dazai says icily, taking a tone that he rarely uses with Oda as he pushes himself off of the barstool and turns to leave. “I’ve had too much to drink. I’m heading out for the night.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for either one of them to say goodbye as he all but storms out of the bar. Oda sighs, taking a sip of his own drink.

“That could have gone better.”

Ango slaps the back of his head hard.

“I can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Alright, it’s time.”

You watch the live CCTV cameras from the sleek black car you and Chuuya are huddled in. Your partner, Itou, sits in the front seat, rubbing his temples as he spares you guys a short look. You raise your eyebrows at him but he only shakes his head.

“I don’t know what goes through your head sometimes,” he tells you, tired. “I want no part in this beyond this right here.”

“You’re no fun,” you say, squinting at him, “and we still need you to get the footage from the headquarters.”

Itou sighs so heavily that you think he might be trying to expel his lungs from his body. He glares at you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing beyond that. You’re insane for this. You’re going to get us all thrown in the torture chambers.”

“Relax, don’t be so serious. It makes you ugly. You’ll be fine,” you complain, focusing back down on Chuuya’s laptop, straightening as Dazai finally comes into view on the screen. 

You and Chuuya exchange an excited look with one another, a smile twitching onto your lips as you wait for the scene to unfold. You pointedly ignore the noise Itou makes when he notices how thrilled the two of you are at the prospect of kidnapping Dazai—but Itou doesn’t get it, he doesn’t know Dazai. Dazai will love this, and he’ll love it even more when you get your hands on the footage of Mori’s and Kouyou’s reactions to the kidnapping.

You’ve got your subordinates disguised impeccably as members of a low-rung gang that’s been trying to make moves into the northern wards of Yokohama. You had a meeting with them a few days ago to determine whether they’d be worth absorbing or if Mori should just send Dazai and Chuuya to deal with them. You decided on the latter, and the two of them are supposed to go in and exterminate them next weekend.

You figured they would be the perfect cover to pose as Dazai’s “kidnappers.” They’ve been aggressive and violent in Port Mafia territory, making increasingly larger steps into the Naka Ward. You were honestly curious to see how far they’ll try to go, but you doubt Mori will let it get any farther than he has already anyway, so you thought you might as well get some use out of them to stage a realistic-looking kidnapping.

You think Mori will probably assume this was intentional at first when he gets the report. He’ll call you and Chuuya, the two of you will act bitter and angry as if you’re not on speaking terms with Dazai currently—which, you suppose it’s for the best that he stormed away from the two of you that day in headquarters, because it’ll make it seem legit—you’ll hang up and tell him that you’re busy for the night, tell him not to bother you again. 

When Mori realizes that neither you or Chuuya know what’s going on, he’ll start to get suspicious. He’ll seek out the tapes and see Dazai drunk and lost in thought wandering home, see the way he genuinely struggles against his “captors” before being knocked out—none of the casual arrogance he usually has when getting himself captured by the enemy—and then? Then, you don’t know how Mori will react. You assume that he’ll call you and Chuuya again, get the two of you on it, but by that point, your phones will be off.

You’re giddy as you, again, focus back on the screen, watching as Dazai meanders down the street. His movements are slow and unsteady, and your giddiness fades when you see the downcast expression on his face. It’s hard to tell from the footage, but he’s clearly bothered about something. You wonder if he’s that pissed about what happened earlier, or if something else happened with his other friends—he’s usually at Bar Lupin for at least another two hours.

“Okay,” Chuuya says into his earpiece. “Begin stage one of the operation.”

“He looks kind of upset, doesn’t he?” you murmur when Chuuya takes his fingers off the button on the earpiece.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

You ignore the curious, knowing look that Itou gives you through the rearview mirror and instead tunnel your vision onto the laptop screen… although you find you don’t really want to look at that either. You grimace as your subordinates finally make their move—and it’s testament to how lost in his own thoughts he is because Dazai hardly notices what’s happening until they’re on him.

He goes for his gun instantly, but your subordinate—Kirishima, you learned his name was—is quick to disarm him, knocking the gun out of his hands and reaching for his arm. Dazai is still swift on his feet, nimble even with a dubious amount of alcohol in him. He’s able to worm out of Kirishima’s grip, darting backward. The expression on his face is lethal, gaze cold as he tries to assess his situation, and you watch as the realization that he might be in trouble finally hits.

Just as Kirishima is about to motion for two of the others to go for him again. Dazai slips his phone out of his pocket and dials a number.

“Fuck!” Chuuya spits. “If he calls the Boss-”

But Dazai evidently did not call the Boss, which would have been the smartest decision on his part considering Mori would have gotten one of Verlaine’s special ops units to him within a max of three minutes, because after a second, your phone starts ringing.

Oh.

You stare at it, heart lodged in your throat, unsure of what to do.

“Shit,” Chuuya says, just as caught off guard. “I didn’t think he’d call you. You can’t pick up.”

You shoot Chuuya an accusatory look. “I have to pick up,” you hiss. “He called me when he actually thought he was in trouble. I can’t just ignore him, that’s fucked up.”

“We staged the kidnapping, it’s already fucked up,” Chuuya snaps right back, “and he can read your ass like a book. If you pick up, that bastard will figure out it’s us.”

“Chuuya,” you bristle, ready to ignore him and reach for your phone but he’s quicker than you, arm darting forward to grab your phone before throwing it out the window. You stare at him horrified, “Chuuya!”

You think you might throw up when you watch Dazai take one last glance at his phone before an unreadable expression crosses his face. He elbows one of them hard in the gut to get away, but Kirishima is on him with the sedative before he can make a run for it. Dazai grimaces when he feels the pinprick in his neck, and you finally look away when he slumps over onto the ground.

“Don’t start feeling bad now,” Chuuya says, glaring at you. “What did you think would happen?” 

“I don’t feel bad,” you lie, and when Chuuya gives you a doubtful look, you sigh and say, “He just looked so…”

Human. 

He looked surprised, uncertain—it’s rare for Dazai Osamu to be caught off guard by anything. You think in the year or so that you’ve known him, you’ve only ever seen him genuinely thrown off like this once, and it was when the Colonel’s operation against the Bishop’s Staff went haywire during the Dragon’s Head Conflict and you got caught in the crossfire, captured by the enemy.

You’ve always been of the belief that Dazai is one of the most human people you’ve ever met. You’ve fought people over it, you’ve fought him over it. The issue is that he’s also ridiculously intelligent, likes to portray himself as inhuman, be it to intimidate his subordinates or enemies or to fulfill whatever fucked up image he has of himself, you don’t know, but he’s good at it. It’s only when he’s put into situations like this, where he’s got no shot of keeping up his mask, surprised and trying to push away the rising panic when he realizes that there’s no way to think, talk or fight his way out of a situation, that you really see his humanity. It’s stark compared to his usual demeanor, almost palpable.

You sit there simmering in your own thoughts until Kirishima knocks hard on the window to the car. Dazai looks small in his arms—he’s tall, but thin and lanky because he doesn’t eat properly no matter how much Chuuya belittles him for it and you try to get him to eat. His frame is small, and it’s especially apparent without his coat to create the illusion of a larger stature, when his face is lax, visible eye slid shut as he lays limp and unconscious in his arms.

You push open the door and Kirishima bends down to shuffle Dazai into the car with you. His body slumps against you, head falling onto your shoulder and you push your lip out a bit as you reach up to brush his hair out of his face.

“The sedatives?” Chuuya asks, leaning around you to focus on Kirishima.

Kirishima lifts the empty syringe, glancing at Chuuya before focusing on you. “Are we free to go, hime?”

You scowl at the nickname but you nod, more focused on shifting Dazai into a comfortable position. “Go get drunk or go to your families, I don’t care. Don’t come back to headquarters ‘til Monday, but be there early, we’ve got a mission.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kirishima replies, inclining his head to you before shutting the car door and leaving.

As soon as the door shuts, you sigh and let Dazai’s body fall over, head resting in your lap. He looks so completely at peace that you almost forget that it’s because he’s been drugged. He never sleeps well, even now that he’s staying at your place—you hear him wandering around at night, restless, and the few nights he does sleep, he seems to be plagued with nightmares. You rest your hand on his hair and absently brush your fingers through his damp locks before turning to look at Chuuya, who’s watching you with an expression nothing short of judgmental.

“What?” you demand.

“Nothing.” Chuuya rolls his eyes. “How long do you think the sedative will last?” 

“It’s a pretty high dosage,” you say with a frown, looking down at Dazai. “But Dazai’s got some mutant metabolism. Remember when he walked off a whole ass horse tranquilizer during Dragon’s Head. I give it like four hours max.”

“We need to get moving then,” Chuuya sighs, and you nod.

You lean over the center console and give Itou a sweet smile, careful to not jostle Dazai around too much.

“I’ll drive you there, but then I’m gone,” Itou sighs, giving you one last warning look before he puts the car in drive. “Don’t involve me in this any further.”

“Thank you, Itou,” you coo, sharing one last look with Chuuya before letting out a sigh and turning your attention back down to Dazai, gaze lingering and a soft smile on your face.

Chuuya makes a noise of disgust in the back of his throat.

You ignore it.

The beach house the two of you have usurped for the weekend is nicer than you could’ve imagined. You don’t know how Itou found it for the two of you, maybe a friend of his—you’ve found that he has friends everywhere, it’s been quite handy for when you have to deal with politics—or maybe he killed someone for it, you really can’t be sure with him. It’s a neat little place south of Higashikoiso, a little over an hour out of Yokohama—the house is near a cliff overlooking the sea, with an easy path down toward the beach.

There are only three bedrooms though, which is unfortunate considering you and Chuuya plan to coerce Dazai’s other friends into showing up. You might not be the fondest of them for petty reasons, but you think Dazai would like that, so you’ll bite your tongue and suffer through it. Either way, three or four people are going to have to share rooms depending on the set up and you’re fully intent on not being one of them; you already have your argument that you’re the only girl in the house and you think it will be solid enough, unless Dazai decides to be stubborn. 

“This is kind of fucked up,” you note while setting the scene.

Dazai is still unconscious, it’s only been an hour and a half so you should have some time before he wakes up, but you want to get this done as quickly as possible, because you don’t want him to wake up while you and Chuuya are halfway finished to setting up the room to make it look like a ransom scene.

“This is definitely fucked up,” you correct, but you’re smiling as you finish up typing the ropes around Dazai’s wrists, sitting him up in a rickety wooden chair.

You and Chuuya had dragged him down to the basement—Itou had luckily had some interrogation tools in the trunk of his car, and was not inclined to ask any questions when you asked for them, passing them over to you with the most concerned expression you’d ever seen on the nineteen-year-old’s face.

The basement looks like any average torture chamber—stone walls, damp and dingy, so it’s easy for you and Chuuya to transform it into an acceptable backdrop for your picture. You adjust Dazai in the seat again, fingers ghosting over his neck from where his head is falling forward, hoping he’s not too uncomfortable.

“This is your idea,” Chuuya shoots back, tilting his head to the side with a frown as he examines the scene. “He’s not roughed up enough. We’ve gotta do something, did you bring makeup with you?”

“No,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck before an idea pops in your head.

You slink over to Chuuya and grab the knife that he carries at his side, ignoring the perturbed look on his face as he instantly takes a step away. Making your way back over to Dazai, you grimace as you cut the palm of your hand, smearing some blood on Dazai’s face and shirt to make it seem as if he’s been roughed up. You readjust the ropes, tighten them a little more and make sure some of your blood drips down onto the floor above where Dazai’s face is hanging before you take a step back to admire your handiwork before turning to your accomplice.

“... Do you have the burner phone?” you ask Chuuya, wrapping your hand with cloth, figuring you’ll just bandage it up later. 

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“Take the picture,” you tell him, stepping out of the way to hover over his shoulder, watching as Chuuya squints his eyes and tries to angle it properly so Dazai looks as in bad shape as possible. 

When he’s finally satisfied, he looks to you. Your lips curve up, “I’ll read off the number of that friend of his, you type it in. This’ll get them here for sure.”

As you do that, Chuuya starts snickering, clearly as entertained by this whole situation as you are. “You’re fucking psychotic for this, y’know?” he says, typing out the message to be attached with the image before pressing send and tossing the phone away.

“You helped me,” you accuse, but you're grinning, giddy again as you grab a towel to wipe the blood off of Dazai, pulling off the ropes and forcing Chuuya to help him back to the couch where he can be comfortable.

“Yeah, but it was your idea, you crazy bitch,” Chuuya tells you again with another snort. “What do we do now?”

“Wait.”

Everything happens at once.

Sakaguchi Ango and Oda Sakunosuke get to the beach house much sooner than you thought they would, and Dazai starts stirring an hour earlier than you expected—mutant metabolism, you think again. Luckily, it all happens at around the same time, so you get to see all of their reactions at once.

Neither Sakaguchi nor Oda have made a move into the house, probably trying to figure out the best course of action. Dazai still hasn’t woken up, curled up on the couch while you and Chuuya play cards at the table in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. You’re winning, of course, and Chuuya is becoming increasingly more frustrated from the way he keeps slamming his cards down onto the coffee table.

“They’re about to come in,” Chuuya says, giving you a withering look as tosses his cards across the table—another losing hand. You give him a smug smile and Chuuya bares his teeth at you. “Come here.”

You sigh as you shuffle over around the table so that he can put his hand on your shoulder, ready to activate the Tainted Sorrow in case Sakaguchi and Oda come in guns blazing. On the couch, Dazai starts to shift, a low groan escaping his lips, and your eyes draw back to him, focusing on his face and the way his brows are furrowed and his lips are turned down.

“Here they are,” Chuuya hums, lips quirking up into a sharp smile. “Ready?”

“Yup,” you agree, popping the ‘p’ as you lean back on your hands and stare at the door. “How long do you think it’ll take them to actually open the door?”

“I give it five more seconds,” Chuuya snorts, and you shiver when you feel the familiar sensation of the Tainted Sorrow spreading across your body, an impenetrable barrier to protect you from whatever may come your way.

Just as Chuuya predicts, five seconds later, the front door is kicked open. You frown, hoping that they didn’t break it off of the hinges, because you don't want to hear Itou bitching about it later on. Oda Sakunosuke comes in first, gun steady and finger on the trigger, but the man is cautious and tilts his head to the side when his eyes fall upon you and Chuuya.

“What is it?” Sakaguchi asks from behind the other man, taking a step into the beach house to follow Oda’s gaze to you and Chuuya. “I-what?”

“Sakaguchi,” you say, lifting your hand to wag your fingers; maybe you’re a bit petty when you don’t acknowledge Oda. “Long time no see. I was grateful for your help when dealing with Nishiki and his cronies.”

“I, ah, hime-” You sigh at the moniker, eyes fluttering shut. “What is… going on? We got a picture and a…”

Sakaguchi trails off when he sees Dazai stirring on the couch, and you turn your attention toward him. You watch as he finally lifts his arm to rub his eyes, sluggish and slow. After a split second passes, you notice him stiffen, as if remembering what happened, and his eyes shoot open, cold and sharp.

You smile. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you coo. “Took you long enough.”

The icy mask slips away into genuine confusion, his brows furrow and his lips part. Next to you, Chuuya snorts, “Now, that’s a fucking sight. I almost want to take a picture.”

“What…” Dazai begins, then notices Oda and Sakaguchi still standing near the front door, blinking a few times. “What is going on?”

You’re sure that must’ve been the most painful question for Dazai Osamu to ask—admitting he has no idea what’s happening. Chuuya snickers and Dazai shoots him a contemptuous look, diluted by the fact that he still looks half out of it from the sedative.

“Yes,” Sakaguchi asks dryly, “what is going on?”

You smile proudly and then say, “We kidnapped you. Seemed pretty realistic, didn’t it? Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

Dazai blinks, you can see him trying to force his brain to start moving faster so he can put together the puzzle pieces you’ve handed him. His gaze calculating and lips tight. “You… set up the kidnapping?”

Oda then says: “See. I told you they were planning something.”

“Planning a kidnapping,” Sakaguchi sighs, tired. “Did you guess that too, Oda?”

“Well, no.”

Hardly listening to Oda and Sakaguchi’s bickering in the background, you keep your attention on Dazai, who’s watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You waver for a second, wondering if he’s mad at the two of you—you’d figured it could be an issue, that he might be put off by being kept in the dark about this. He really does hate not knowing things. 

“Why?” Dazai asks quietly, and you note how Oda and Sakaguchi share a look with one another before quieting down, waiting for your response.

“I’m glad you asked!” you say brightly. “It’s your birthday present!” 

You relish in the way the room goes quiet. Dazai’s dark eye widens, taken off guard for the second time in a matter of a few minutes. You’re even more gleeful when you see how Oda’s expression shifts into one of surprise, how Sakaguchi draws back, stunned. At least your fears of Oda and Sakaguchi knowing more about Dazai than you go unfounded.

“Yeah, shitty Dazai, say thank you,” Chuuya goads, a smug smile on his lips.

Dazai doesn’t respond, staring at the two of you with yet another indecipherable look, an odd shine to his dark eye. You feel a bit exposed under his stare, wondering what he could be thinking.

“How did you know?” Dazai finally asks, and oh, you realize that’s not the question he’s asking. Dazai knows that there’s only one way the two of you figured out his birthday—his file in Mori’s office. What he wants to know is which of you got hands on it.

“It was a grand plot,” you say, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you look up at him. “Chuuya kept Mori distracted while I ransacked his office looking for your file… part of your gift is going to be the recording of Chuuya trying to distract him. It was quite funny.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya demands, whirling on you. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

You ignore Chuuya, keeping your gaze trained on Dazai instead, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Is he angry at you? Upset? It’s impossible to tell from the heavy gaze he has laid on you, thousands of conflicting emotions swirling behind the black of his eye. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, chewing the inside of your cheek as you wait—god, only one person evokes this type of nervousness in you and you swear he enjoys it.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally lights up, flinging his arms out to his side, a wide, borderline facetious smile painting his face as he says, “So, I get an entire day to order you guys around to do my bidding.”

“Hey!” Chuuya shouts, equally incensed by Dazai’s words as he is by yours, head snapping to look at him. “That’s not the fucking gift, bastard.”

“What’s the plan then?” Oda asks curiously, and then adds, “... I’m glad you brought us here… as unconventional as the method may have been.”

You notice Dazai gives Oda and then you a curious look, but before he can ask, Chuuya is leaping to his feet, talking quickly as he waves his hands around, making subtle digs to get a rise out of Dazai, but Dazai is more focused on you.

You push yourself to your own feet, trying to ignore Dazai’s lidded stare and focus on what Chuuya is saying but it’s hard, especially when you see Dazai standing from the corner of your eye. He’s still a bit unsteady, movement slow and sluggish, and you’re sure that’s the excuse he has for when he meanders a few steps over to you, dropping his chin on your shoulder. You don’t dare to turn your face to the side to look at him, his lips brush your ear as he murmurs:

“Talk later?”

“... ‘course.”

Luckily, later doesn’t come for a long while. Chuuya was insistent on going out to the beach—you think he was more eager to see Dazai wear the ugly Hawaiian shirt that the two of you had brought along for him more than anything else, but he quickly found interest in the large waves coming in from the sea, running back to the beach house to seek out the boards that you’d found in the basement.

Dazai doesn’t go in the water, but you think he’s having a good time considering there’s a shine in his eyes that’s rarely there. Right now, he’s sitting in the sand in front of Oda and Sakaguchi; the former listening to Dazai ramble on about whatever he’s talking about, the latter tapping away on his computer and occasionally nodding along.

You spend most of your time watching Chuuya cheat at surfing, using his ability to keep him on top of the surfboard as he seeks out the biggest waves. You’re standing in the water yourself, no further than knee-deep because you don’t want to get your clothes and hair wet. You’re kind of annoyed that Dazai’s been spending all of his time with Oda and Sakaguchi when you and Chuuya were the ones who did all of the work, and again, you can’t help but wonder if he might be mad at you. He didn’t seem to be on the walk down to the beach but you can honestly never know with him.

You drag your gaze from where Chuuya is hooting and hollering as he catches another big wave, rolling your eyes when you see the red emanating around his feet and the surfboard, so you can look back at Dazai. He’s stopped talking, listening to whatever Oda is saying instead as he stares at you with a contemplative expression. You feel distinctly seen beneath his stare, lost as to what he might be thinking. He doesn’t even notice that you caught him looking, or if he does, he doesn’t care.

You shake your head when you hear Chuuya coming toward you again, turning your attention back onto him.

“Did you see that one?” Chuuya demands, exhilarated, board tucked under his arm as he brushes his hair out of his face. “Did you?”

“I did,” you say dryly. “It would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t been cheating with the Tainted Sorrow.”

Chuuya looks scorned. “I don’t see you getting out there to try,” he scowls, lifting his chin. “You’re more preoccupied with staring longingly at shitty Dazai.”

Your face heats up, you kick the water at him and make sure it gets in his face. “I am not,” you hiss. “Don’t be annoying, Chuuya.”

“I give it another ten seconds before you look back at him again,” Chuuya croons, a wide smile on his face that you have half a mind to slap right off.

To make it worse, you do feel an itch to look back at him now. Your eye twitches as you force yourself to keep looking forward at Chuuya just to make a point, but an odd feeling starts to stir in your gut when you see the way Chuuya’s gaze keeps darting behind you, looking increasingly more pleased with himself.

Finally, you give him an accusatory look before turning your head over your shoulder sharply to where Dazai had been with Oda and Sakaguchi only to find-

That he’s not there?

You hardly have enough time to register what you’re looking at before you see a rush of movement from the corner of your eye.

No-

All you hear is Chuuya’s wild laughter and the sound of the ocean waves reverberating through your skull as Dazai tackles you back into the water hard. The water cushions your fall as your back finally hits the sand. You lift your hand to press your palm against Dazai’s face, pushing him away from you, lungs burning and decidedly soaked as you push yourself out of the water, gasping for air.

“Dazai!” you shout, throwing yourself at him with every intent to throttle him. 

Dazai tries to dodge, but is too busy wheezing over laughter to actually do so. He lets out a dramatic cry when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and successfully knock him into the water face down. He flails dramatically, arms and legs kicking as you hold him down beneath the water.

When you finally drag him back up above the surface, he inhales a lungful of air before giving you an indignant look. “You can’t do that,” Dazai shouts, pointing at you. “It’s my birthday.”

“I’ll do it again,” you shout right back, hair sticking in your eyes and clothes clinging to your skin from the seawater. “I wanted to go into town after this.”

Dazai looks just as messy—the cheap Hawaiian shirt you and Chuuya had got him is drenched, and the colors are bleeding into his bandages, making the previously pristine whites become a colorful swirl of oranges, blues and pinks. He looks like a shitty attempt at a watercolor painting. The bandages around his eye look especially uncomfortable from the way his visible eye keeps twitching and immediately your anger fizzles away into amusement.

You share a look with Chuuya that Dazai instantly catches, looking suspicious and alarmed.

“Chuuya, go get the camera.”

Dazai doesn’t even wait for another word. He instantly turns on his heel to bolt back to the beach house, but you’re chasing after him in an instant.

“Chuuya, go!” you yell again as you lunge forward, fingers curling around Dazai’s ankles to make him faceplant back into the water.

You scramble forward to straddle his waist to keep him in place but he worms out of your hold, trying to make another break for it but fails because you’re still clinging to his leg, dragging him back down with you. Distantly, you think you should’ve gone for the camera while Chuuya kept Dazai in place.

“Chuuya’s right,” you spit out. The two of you are out of the water now, you can feel the sand in your shirt and grating against your skin as you roll around with him trying to keep him still. “You really are like a slimy, slippery fish.”

“You can’t do this,” Dazai screeches. “It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday!”

“I got it!” Chuuya shouts from over by the chairs, racing back over to the two of you. 

“Took you long enough,” you yell right back at him, realizing that you’re going to have to sacrifice your own dignity to get Dazai in this picture, otherwise he’s going to try to run away again. 

Chuuya can hardly hold the camera straight through his snorting, and you’re sure you probably look equally as embarrassing as Dazai. There’s sand on your face, in your mouth, in your hair, in places where sand definitely shouldn’t be, but at least you don’t look like a kaleidoscope. Dazai lets out a pitiful noise when he realizes there’s no escape, trapped between your arms. He tries to hide his face in your neck, probably for plausible deniability that it’s an imposter trying to make him look bad, rather than it actually being him himself.

“Say cheese, mackerel,” Chuuya mocks.

“Fuck you,” Dazai complains.

But you can feel the smile twitching on his lips against your skin.

Oda and Sakaguchi set up a fire later that night. 

Well, by Oda and Sakaguchi, you mean Oda while Sakaguchi sat there and played dictator, telling him how to make a campfire that Oda clearly already knew how to make from the way he seemed to be hardly listening to the man.

Dazai and Chuuya are off trying to figure out how to use sparklers, which you think is a bad idea. You think the two are more likely to set each other on fire than actually use them properly, which is why you’re staying far away, tapping away on your phone near the campfire, relaxing under the sea breeze.

Itou: everything going ok?

You almost roll your eyes before responding with.

You: Yes. Why?

Itou: just curious :p

You: Could’ve stayed if you were curious. We offered.

Itou: yeah, maybe if u wanted to find me dead in a ditch. ur boy hates my guts.

You’re grateful that no one is around to see how you let out an embarrassed puff of air at how Itou refers to Dazai, instantly clicking out of his messages to see what other messages you have. Before you can, you feel a presence hovering above you and look up, raising your eyebrows.

Oda Sakunosuke stands next to you, studying you curiously, and you look to the side and then back toward him, unsure of what he wants.

“Yes?” you ask slowly. Sakaguchi is still sitting closer to the house, scowling as he bats away bugs.

“This is nice. What you did for Dazai,” Oda says simply. “I haven’t seen him this happy in… well, ever.”

A bit embarrassed, you shrug. “It’s whatever,” you say awkwardly. “Just happy it all worked out.”

“I don’t think Dazai’s ever had someone do something like this for him before,” Oda admits. He’s not looking at you anymore, fond gaze trained behind you to where you can hear Dazai and Chuuya arguing about how to use the sparklers. “He never told Ango or I his birthday… or anything personal about himself, really. I’m grateful that you brought us along.”

You wish you could sink into the ground and die, knowing that if it was up to you, you never would have invited either of them but forced yourself to for Dazai’s sake. Again, you shrug, and say, “Was for Dazai. Thought he would like it.”

“Well, I’m grateful anyway,” Oda says dismissively, looking back down at you. “You should stop by the curry place where I take Dazai every once and a while. The kids I brought in stay there, Sakura is the only girl, I’m sure she’d like having another girl around to talk to.”

You blanch. “I don’t-uh-I don’t know if that would be the best idea, I’m not exactly… a good influence for kids.”

Oda shrugs. “Maybe not conventionally, but you’re tough. Work ten times as hard as any of the others in the upper ranks of the Mafia to keep your position. It’s impressive. If Sakura was even half as strong as you are when she grows up, I’d be proud of her.”

Your lips part to speak but no words leave them. You think, maybe, that this is the first time anyone has ever acknowledged this. Your position has never been as secure as anyone else’s—you think maybe that it’s part of the reason why Mori is so insistent on people using that stupid fucking title, as much as you hate it.

Your own subordinates respect you, the rest of the upper echelon who know of your contributions do, but everyone else? Hierarchy is absolute and the Boss’s orders are paramount, but when subordinates see a chance to push themselves higher up the ladder, it’s like sharks with blood in the water. Without a powerful ability like Chuuya’s, or a mind and presence like Dazai’s, as a girl, you’re on the lowest rung, the first one they’re circling to try to get ahead.

You prevent gang wars, keep the government off the Mafia’s ass, but that’s all behind the scenes—none of the lower ranked mafiosos see any of that. They see Dazai and Chuuya bringing down entire organizations overnight. Ace bringing in billions of yen. Kouyou’s perfect record of assassinations. Hirotsu leading the Black Lizards. Akutagawa and his ability. All they ever seen in you is-

All they see in you is a seventeen-year-old girl who happens to be favored by the Boss.

Although you don’t necessarily care for Oda’s presence, even if only for petty reasons, you do appreciate his words. Your shoulders slump and you want to reply, say thank you at the very least, but nothing comes out. You think he notices, and being the infuriatingly kind person he is, he gives you an out. Oda Sakunosuke pats your head like you’re a dog. You give him a side-eye and cringe away from his hand, but he’s unperturbed. 

“I’m glad he has you,” Oda tells you, before wandering back over to Ango, leaving you there flustered and caught off guard.

Your gaze draws back to where Dazai has finally got his sparkler working, and for a second, you’re entranced. You can hardly drag your eyes from the bright gleam and soft smile on Dazai’s lips as he eyes follow the bright pink and gold sparks flying around as he waves the sparkler around in front of him. It’s childish, almost, innocent in a way that Dazai Osamu never gets to act.

You have to force yourself to look away from him, turning your attention back to your phone to go back to what you were doing before Oda interrupted you.

Several texts from Kouyou and Mori demanding you to pick up your phone, one concerned one from Hirotsu—you’ll have to apologize to him later—and several from an unknown number that you don’t recognize. Akutagawa? Dazai’s subordinate? You’re going to have to have a serious talk with your subordinates later about giving out your number. You click back to your message thread with Itou, pointedly ignoring the last message as you type.

You: How the hell did Akutagawa Ryuunosuke get my number?

Itou: pretty sure he threatened a couple of our subordinates, wounded one of them. i have to deal with it tomorrow. have dazai train his dog before letting him wander around unleashed.

You roll your eyes and then tilt your head back to shout over your shoulder, “Dazai, train your fucking subordinates properly.”

The bickering from where Dazai and Chuuya were arguing behind you halts, and you hear the two of them approach you.

“What happened?” Chuuya asks curiously, peeking over your shoulder at your phone. You promptly close it before he can catch sight of the other message that Itou had sent about Dazai.

Dazai comes to hover next to you, waiting for you to explain, and you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “Akutagawa injured one of my men and threatened others trying to get my number when he heard you were missing. Get him under control.”

Dazai’s visible eye twitches. “Untrained mutt,” he spits out. “I’ll deal with him.”

You share a short look with Chuuya from the corner of your eye, wondering if you’d just condemned Akutagawa to Dazai’s violent wrath, but you’re distracted when your phone buzzes again.

Itou: check ur email.

You straighten in your seat, immediately flicking out of your messages app to your email to find one from Itou with a video file attached.

“No way,” you breathe out, excited, not having expected Itou to get his hands on it so quickly. You turn to look at Dazai, a wide smile on your face; you miss the way the irritation on his instantly fades, visible eye widening and lips parting at the sight of your smile. You also miss, in your excitement, Chuuya’s grunt of disgust. “Dazai, you wanna see your real present?”

Curious, Dazai peers over your shoulder to see the email you got. “What is that?” 

“Watch and see,” you croon, clicking on the video to show the surveillance tape from headquarters.

Instantly, Dazai seems to realize what it is, eye lighting up. “No way,” he says, half sitting on top of you in your beach chair, ignoring your irritated hiss.

“Get your bony ass off of me, Dazai,” you snap at him, but Dazai ignores you, settling down as he snatches your phone to watch the video. 

Chuuya joins him, crowding in on your other side to lean over his shoulder to watch the video. Rolling your eyes, and unable to see the video on your phone, you instead lean back into the chair and watch their reactions to it instead.

Chuuya looks amused, a sharp grin on his face as his eyes remain pinned on the video, and Dazai looks delighted, he cackles and shifts to lean forward, making you grimace when he ends up digging more into your thigh to push himself up.

“Look at his face,” Dazai screeches. “He really thinks it was real. Ane-san looks like she’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Chuuya looks back at you, smiling but there’s a hesitant look in his eyes. “We’re going to be in so much trouble when we get back,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yeah, you agree silently, more focused on the bright shine in Dazai’s eyes and the wide, genuine smile on his lips. He’s so giddy that he’s almost vibrating in your lap, and when he finally looks back at you, he looks at you as if you’ve given him the world. Worth it, though.

Despite ardently arguing why you should be the one who doesn’t have to share a room and succeeding—forcing Oda and Sakaguchi (who didn’t seem to mind) and Chuuya and Dazai (much to their distress) to share a room instead—you find that you can’t sleep at night anyway. 

It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to wander out of the house, making your way to the path leading up to the clifftop—everyone called an early night, the excitement of the day, and the lack of sleep, leaving everyone exhausted before the clock hit nine-thirty.

The seabreeze is cool against your skin, the moonlight’s illumination the only guide you have as you make your way up to the cliff’s edge. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your sweats as you drag your feet against the dirt path.

You don’t notice someone sitting up there at the edge until they turn their head to the side to look at you, startled by your arrival.

“Dazai,” you say quietly, standing there awkwardly for a moment. You haven’t spoken to him alone yet, you’d meant to earlier but then Chuuya got his hands on wine before bed and that plan went out the window.

Dazai sighs whimsically when he catches sight of you. “So, hime forces me to share a room with the slug only to not even use her own room. She’s so greedy,” he whines, lashes fluttering as he looks up at you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, making your way over to sit with him, legs dangling off the edge, swinging absently. Your thigh is pressed against the side of his, feet occasionally bumping into one another, when you rest your hands against the ground to lean back on them, your thumb brushes his. “You wanted to talk.”

Dazai lets out an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat, and you watch as his gaze turns down to his lap, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s pretty beneath the glow of the moonlight, peaceful in a way you hardly ever see him. His expression is free of the numerous masks he wears to protect himself, eyes dark but warm and full of various emotions as he chooses his words carefully.

“Hime read my file,” Dazai finally says, voice soft, almost hesitant. You catch the way his jaw tightens and untightens, the corner of his lips tightening and quivering; a subtle tell to his nerves, one that most people wouldn’t catch, but you do.

“I did,” you agree. Your own heart races in your chest as you wait for his reaction; you don’t think that he’s angry, you think you’d be able to tell if he were angry by now, but you can’t help the anxiety plaguing you.

“So, you saw,” Dazai hums, but there’s a bit of a wobble to his tone. He pointedly doesn’t look at you now, staring ahead out toward the sky and distant sea. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“No. I figure you’ll tell me if you want. If not, it’s okay.”

It’s decidedly not okay, but you don’t want to pressure Dazai into telling you. You want Dazai to open up to you, but you don’t want to force him to, so you force yourself to be content with the fact that he’s at least acknowledging this, instead of pretending it didn’t happen.

“I can’t,” Dazai says. 

His throat bobs beneath his bandages, dark eye uncertain as he stares down to the turbulent sea. You think a storm must be coming, the waves have become rocky, whitecaps staining the horizon, crashing into the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Dazai shifts, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“By choice?” you ask after a few moments. “Or is someone—” Mori “—forcing you to?”

“... Both,” Dazai responds after a few moments. “I…”

Dazai doesn’t finish whatever he was going to say, voice wavering. After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, he continues.

“I don’t have good memories associated with that name,” Dazai finally says, and you don’t dare to speak, hardly even dare to breathe because you don’t want to ruin whatever spurred this decision of his to crack himself open to you, afraid that if you make the wrong move, he’ll withdraw again. “... Sometimes, I miss it though.”

“That’s normal, I think,” you tell him after a moment, looking to the side to focus on him, watching the way his eyes lower at your words. “You have… better ones as… Osamu?” 

It’s your first time referring to Dazai by his first name, and from the way he inhales sharply, he recognizes it as well. There’s something distinctly vulnerable in his expression as he turns his face to you.

“I have you,” Dazai says quietly, and it’s so instant that it catches you off guard, lips parting. As if catching his own lapse in control, he blinks and then rushes to add, “And Odasaku. Ango. The slug.”

You smile a bit to yourself. “Yeah,” you agree. “You do.”

Dazai looks as if he wants to say something, his lips are parted and his gaze is uncertain. You give him a questioning look, wondering what could possibly be running through his head right now, but then he speaks.

“Shuji,” he says so softly that you barely hear him. “My name was Shuji.”

Your eyes shoot open at the admission, Dazai’s goes just as wide, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say it out loud. You open your mouth to say something but Dazai doesn’t even give you the chance to.

“You can’t use it ever, okay?” he says, voice tinged with a type of panic you’ve never heard in the boy before, dark eye filled with desperation. “Never. Not when we’re with people. Not when we’re alone. Not ever. You can’t.”

You don’t think Dazai has ever begged anyone for anything in his life, but he’s begging you now… a part of you can’t help but wonder if it’s for his sake, or yours.

“Can I say it once? Right now?” you ask quietly, swallowing thickly.

Dazai looks unsure and hesitant, but he finally nods. “Then you have to forget it, okay? You can’t ever let anybody know it. Nobody can ever know it. And nobody can know that you know, okay? No one, especially Mori.”

You don’t really like the sound of that, your gut tugging uncomfortably at the stress on Mori’s name, but you don’t want to press anymore than you have, so you agree.

With the winds howling around the cliffs to drown out your voice, and only Dazai and the stars to bear witness, you shift to face him. You reach up to cup Dazai’s cheek, fingers brushing against the bandages on the right side of his face, watching as he inhales sharply at your sudden touch. Before you can lose your nerve, you lean in to ghost your lips against his cheek. 

“Happy birthday, Shuji,” you whisper softly, pulling back to sit next to him. Your face is on fire, and Dazai doesn’t react beyond a shaky breath and his fists tightening in his lap.

Finally, instead of responding, he reaches out to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Your smile is soft, and you can feel Dazai’s fingers trembling, body uncharacteristically lax as he rests next to you.

Your free hand brushes a stray rock at your side and you turn to look at it curiously, noting the jagged edge and then getting an idea. Dazai frowns when you pull your hand from his and shift away, giving you a questioning look, but then you shift to your knees, grabbing the rock and etching your first initial into the flat rock that the two of you are sitting on. Dazai watches you carefully and when you hold it out to him, he hesitates before taking it from you.

He doesn’t do anything for a second, staring down at your initial with the jagged edge of the rock resting against the ground next to it. Finally, he takes in a steady breath before carving a ‘+ S’ right next to yours. You chew on the inside of your cheek and your eyes are a bit misty as your hand falls to trace the letters.

After a few moments, you let out another breath and settle down next to him again, a bit closer than you were before, thigh pressed firmly against his and shoulders brushing. You reach for his hand again, intertwining your fingers with his, looking up to the vast sky above.

Your lips part to speak, but the words catch in your throat, fingers tightening around his for the sparest second. He gives you a curious look and you don’t dare to look at him as you finally force the words from your lips.

“The moon… it’s pretty beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” you say quietly, throat tight as you stare up at the sky, the glittering stars and the full moon glowing above. 

You can feel Dazai’s gaze on you as he responds. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I think if I died tonight… I would die happy.”

Three years later on the early morning of June 19th, Dazai Osamu sits on the cliff’s edge in the same spot he did with you all of those years before, watching the sun break over the horizon. His fingers trace over the two engraved letters next to him, and not for the first time in the past two years he’s spent underground, he yearns. 

He yearns for you so bad that it makes his chest hurt, his stomach turns in on itself; he yearns so desperately that it’s hard for him to breathe without you, the thought of you weighing so heavily on his mind that he thinks the pressure of it might kill him. As he’s gotten closer to finally being able to leave the underground and join the Armed Detective Agency, he finds that he thinks more and more of you.

He wonders what you’re doing—if you’re thinking of him, if you hate him, if you’ve forgotten all about him. He can almost imagine you sitting here with him, shoulders brushing, thigh pressed to his, fingers intertwined.  He doesn’t know how long he’s spent sitting in that spot, fantasizing that you were there with him, longing for days with you and Chuuya and Odasaku and Ango that are long gone.

Before his thoughts can spiral any further, his phone rings—only one person would be calling him right about now, so he lets it get to the final ring before picking up.

“Fukuzawa-san is ready for you,” Ango says as soon as Dazai picks up the phone, waiting no time for pleasantries.. “Make your way over to the Armed Detective Agency when you can… Happy birthday, Dazai.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, hanging up the phone and letting out a soft breath. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and his eyes linger on the engraved initials, worn with time but still clearly visible, for only a few seconds longer. He pushes himself up to his feet and walks back down toward the beach house with the thoughts of you still clouding his head.

Yeah, Dazai thinks a bit dryly, chest heavy and aching as he looks back at where the two of you once sat three years ago. Happy birthday.

fun facts!

the inspiration for this fic came from the summer vacation bungo mayoi cards with dazai, oda and ango LOLLLL

the inspiration for the "dazai osamu not being dazai's real name" comes from the fact that irl!dazai was a pen name—his real name was tsushima shuji.

i'm gonna drop some pm!reader universe lore here too. in the pm!reader universe, i decided to go with the popular theory that dazai was the previous boss's son/grandson, which is why his word held so much weight when he vouched for mori. when everything calmed down after the death of the previous boss and after most of the old regime of loyalists had been disposed of, mori had shuji change his name to dazai osamu, to shred any connection he might have had to the previously reigning mafia family, just in case more loyalists popped up. in the present pm!reader universe (from 16-22), only kouyou and hirotsu know who dazai really is.

happy birthday osamu❗❗❗

Pop your pérignon — d. osamu

summary. so what if he doesn’t care about his own birthday? you still wanted to make him feel special

content. gn!reader, fluff, idk the ending seems rushed sorry :(

notes. the silly doodle is drawn by me <3 and happy happy birthday to our sweet, adorable, charming dazai !!! mwah mwah ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

you have been mentally counting the days to his birthday.

dazai has told you about his birthday once and you’ve told yourself to not forget it since. he doesn’t really care for it, thinking that there’s little to no point celebrating his age growing by one, a mere reminder that he’s managed to live through yet another year. or so he told you and it makes you a little sad when you think about it. most people you have met get excited or at least look forward to their birthdays so seeing him be so indifferent about his own is unusual for you.

that doesn’t mean you were going to keep it that way. while you had nothing grand planned, you still wanted to surprise him and that in itself turned out to be a much more difficult task than you expected. dazai knows you really well and because of that you can’t afford to make even a single slip up. 

now the hardest part was actually figuring out what to gift him. you didn’t want to get him just something random and expensive, you wanted it to have a meaning for him. you found the amount of time you spent thinking about it embarrassing because who doesn’t know what to give to their own boyfriend? but in the end you did get an idea. a simple but sweet idea. whenever dazai went on a longer mission or had to be somewhere, you used the chance to work on it and put it together. and of course afterwards making sure it was hidden well, under the bed behind many boxes to be exact.

getting a cake was trickier. at first you thought about making it yourself but then you’d have to make it a day before his birthday with no way of knowing if he was going to be away somewhere or not. so if he were to stay with you then making a cake without him noticing is near impossible. with that in mind you chose to buy one and that wasn’t easy either. to somehow get a cake in the fridge a day before without him suspecting anything? yeah you couldn’t have done it alone. that’s when you decided to ask tanizaki for help.

you told him exactly which cake to get and when the time was right, you sent tanizaki a message, a sign that he could enter since you had intentionally left the front door unlocked for him. you were laying bed with dazai when he came in and you didn’t even hear him open or close the fridge. his ability was the plan b in case if dazai happened to suddenly go there. in the end everything went smoothly and you couldn’t feel more relieved. you made a mental note to yourself to pay him back for the cake later.

and before you know it, the day is here. you lazily rubbed your eyes as the rising sunlight woke you up. you slightly shift your body, turning your head a little to see the familiar chocolate brown hair and his face nuzzled against your back. his peaceful state always managed to bring a subtle smile to your lips. but that soon falls as you remember something and god you should have realised this earlier.

how are you going to get out of bed?

the ideal scenario would be that you slowly manage to escape his grasp, placing a pillow in your place and then you would have the chance to get everything ready and surprise him before he wakes up. except it’s dazai that we’re talking about. asleep or not, this man refuses to let go of you easily and only whines about how cold it is without your warmth. and most of the time it works because you can’t deny how comfortable it is to relax in his embrace and forget about the world around you for a moment.

but right now you actually wanted no, needed to get up. you sigh slightly as you think what to do. you know he is going to wake up, dazai has never been a heavy sleeper so moving out of bed would definitely alert him. which leaves you one last option that has to work. you carefully start to shift your body, trying to move his arm, which is wrapped around your waist, out of the way. you were close to sitting up before you could feel dazai’s hold tighten around you, making your movements pause.

“where are you going..?” he mumbles against your skin, the sleep in his voice evident. i take a small breath and then respond. “to the bathroom, i’ll be right back.” your voice is quiet as you let one of your hands brush through his hair. you silently prayed for him to let you since you really have no idea what else you’re going to do otherwise.

you have to hold in an exhale of relief when his hold loosens again, giving you the chance to sit up. a sleepy ‘okay’ is all he says in return and you’re almost surprised at how effortlessly you managed to leave. it could be because he’s still half asleep. all that matters now is the cake and the present. as quietly as possible, you take out your wrapped gift and the cake from the fridge. a rather small cake because you know that he doesn’t have a really big sweet tooth. you wanted to put candles on it too but now wonder how many. definitely not the age he is turning because they wouldn’t all fit. without thinking too hard you just put three as it looked nice like that.

you took out a lighter and within a few moments, all the candles were lit. all that is left now is to go and wish him a happy birthday the way he deserves. you carefully take the cake and the present, approaching the bedroom door as small nervousness starts to grow. what if he doesn’t like it? the last thing you want to do is to make his own day worse for him. thankfully you don’t get to dwell on your thoughts too long because you don’t want the candle wax dripping down on the cake.

when you enter the room, dazai is laying on his back, lazily rubbing his eyes before he turns to look at you. the immediate confused look in his eyes made you smile.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear osamu, happy birthday to you!” you sing softly while slowly sitting down on the bed, placing the cake beside him. you noticed the way he is blinking and dumbfounded as if he couldn’t believe this was real at first. you expected that kind of reaction.

“what?” he speaks up after you sing, slowly sitting up. seeing dazai so off guard is rare, even to you. “come on, blow out the candles!” you tell him with a chuckle. with some hesitation, he does as you say and your face beamed. you also decide to give him the present.

“i know you don’t really care about your birthday but i couldn’t let today just pass by either.” dazai seems like he’s speechless for a moment before focusing on you again.

“you seriously didn’t need to do this.” his voice is soft yet you could sense a bit of disbelief in it as he sees the wrapped gift for him as well. “but i wanted to and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” you say back with certainty, leaving no room for argument.

you then encouraged him to open the gift, your anticipation for his reaction growing. as he removes the wrapping, a small book is revealed and as soon as he opens it, a couple of pages filled with pictures of him and you can be seen. basically a photo album. while dazai flips through the pages you can’t help but notice his lack of reaction, only a small smile coating his lips.

does he not like it that much? you had hoped that he would at least point out a few photos or something but he’s completely quiet, which makes you even more anxious.

“…is it okay? i’m going to be honest, for the longest time i wondered what to give you because i wanted it to be something special or meaningful to you. then i got this idea and thought it’s perfect, a photo album containing the memories of us. but if you don’t like it then i can—“ your unsure rambling is cut off by dazai as he presses a tender kiss on your lips. and suddenly everything seems okay again.

“don’t like it? my love, you have no idea how grateful i am for this,” he tells you, holding your face so that you’d see the sincerity in his gaze, “…i don’t think anyone has ever properly celebrated my birthday, including myself so you just going out of your way to do this for me? i don’t deserve it.” his words push you to give him a light kiss, relishing in the soft surprised sound he lets out.

“yes you do, osamu. i’ll make sure that today will be all about you.” you say to him with a sweet smile, warmth and fondness pooling in your eyes. you swear that for a brief moment you could hear dazai’s breath falter. it’s clear as day that he is not used to this but you are determined to change that.

he looks like he’s about to argue back before eventually sighing in defeat, cuddling closer to you as he buries his face into the crook of your neck and you almost miss his quiet words spoken against your skin. 

“god i love you so much…”

SOMETHING I WAIT FOR . . . dazai has a close call. he barely makes it to your apartment but you’re there just in time, in more ways than one.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, blood and injuries, mentions of drowning / suicidal ideation from dazai, a little suggestive in some parts, 3.6k w.c.

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ if you catch the its okay to not be okay references, ily <3 !!

EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING SERIES MASTERLIST

dazai hates pain.

if the idiot who shot him would’ve aimed just a little bit higher, it might've been a fatal wound. instead, all he did was graze his shoulder. it wasn’t enough to cause serious harm, but just enough to make him bleed in miseryー just his luck.

the man must’ve been dead by now, taken care of by one of his subordinates. he didn’t stay long enough to find out, slipping from the scene before anyone could try to force him into the mafia’s infirmary. he knows your apartment is close. 

he’s nearing the point of being injured where the pain fades and melts into pure exhaustion. he hates the way his blood feels against his hands, and he uses it to ground himself. it’s already soaked through his shirt, wet and warm as it seeps between his fingers and drips down his arm, absorbing into the bandages around his wrist. his already obscured vision is fading, white stars glistening from beneath the edge of his lashes, but he keeps his eyes trained ahead on your building. he swears you used to only have one apartment door, his vision doubling and growing hazy. 

just a few more steps. that’s all he needs to make it to you.

he huffs as his hand slips from your doorknob, sliding off the metal from his weak grip. he falls forward, blood smearing against the doorframe where his palm flattens as he tries to steady himself, pressing his forehead against your door with a quiet thump. you have to be home right now. right? please be home right now.

as soon as you open your door from the other side of your apartment, he collapses, landing against your chest. he curls against you, inhaling the scent of your skin with the desperation of a man who’d just been saved from drowning. 

“dazai?” you stumble backward, but he doesn’t weigh nearly enough to make you fall. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he grips your shirt in his hands, trying to press himself impossibly closer to you. he can feel the moment you realize he’s bleeding, your chest stalling mid-inhale. “oh my god, dazai.”

his jacket slips from his shoulders, falling to the floor limply as you carry him inside, kicking the door closed with your foot. his feet drag against your carpet as he tries to walk, but he’d rather use his waning strength to snuggle closer into your side than keep his balance. even with your body supporting his own, he plops unceremoniously onto your couch.  

“it’s okay,” he shivers when you start to unbutton his shirt, pulling back the bloody, frayed fabric stuck to his skin. he can’t tell if you’re talking to him or yourself. “you’re okay.”

his bangs are damp, yokohama’s humidity and his own sweat gluing them to his forehead. you push them back, stroking your thumb along the edge of his bandage over his cheek tenderly.

“are you hurt anywhere else?”

he tilts his head to press his face into your palm and smiles at you. you’re so pretty when you frown at him like this.

“i’ll be right back,” you squish his cheeks between your hands, making his lips pucker. “don’t try to move.”

he has to stop himself from reaching back out for you when you let him go. he squeezes the fabric of his trousers instead, watching you disappear past the couch’s limited view. he wants to pull you on top of him and beg you to ignore the blood leaking out of his body, to just wrap your arms around him and hold him until there’s nothing left between the two of you. it still wouldn’t be close enough; if he had the choice, he would shrink down and make a home inside your chest.

he tries his best to relax into the cushions beneath him. he’d much rather be in your bed than on your couch, but it was still yours, and that made it enough for him to want to sink into it until it absorbed him whole. your apartment was nothing like his hollow shipping container, the metal walls suffocating in the summer heat.

he could’ve dragged himself there instead. maybe he would’ve finally died from blood loss if he was lucky. that’s what he wants. really.

so then why did he drag himself here? because you felt safe?

dazai came to a realization a few days ago, one more painful than the wound in his shoulder, or the fact he has a mission with chuuya a few days from now. ever since it planted its dirty roots in his brain, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. 

it grew deeper every time his chest tightened around you, or his heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, or his stomach churned in jealousy when someone else touched you. 

this, his mind taunted him, is what people say love feels like. worst of all, when he whined to odasaku and ango about how annoying you were, they didn’t stop talking about his “crush” for the rest of the night. 

his body protests as he sits up, vision swimming as the walls of your living room tilt. he tries to blink it away when he hears you sigh as you come back from down the hallway. he makes his one visible eye big and pouts his lips when he looks at you.

“dazai,” the medical supplies you always keep on hand are cradled in your arms as you walk back toward him. “i told you not to move.”

“you took too long,” he whines. “i’m dying, you know.”

“you wish.” you guide him back down gently, your hands leaving tingles beneath his skin in their wake. he watches you kneel beside him, organizing the little bottles and boxes on your coffee table. you press down on one of the white lids with the heel of your palm, twisting it and knocking it upside down. you hand him one of the pills that fall out, and he swallows it dry.

you open another one of your bottles, and the familiar, sterile smell could be nothing other than saline. it’s cold against his skin, but your touch is what makes him shiver and his hair raise. you squeeze his leg softly, running your fingers against his thigh. it ignites something warm in his stomach, but it fades to white pain when the liquid absorbs into his wound. he jolts, and you murmur an apology, squeezing his thigh a little tighter. you’re trying to distract him, and it works pathetically well.

when you get closer to clean the drying blood off his skin, he can’t help but let his eyes fall to your lips, slightly parted in concentration. you’re close enough for him to kiss, and against the ache of his shoulder, all he can think about is how you might taste.

he wonders how soft you’d feel if he traced the shape of your lips with his tongue. he imagines the sweet sting of you pulling his hair as he memorizes every inch of you he can, taking everything you give him and more. it’d be different from the other people he’s kissed, he knows it; using his mouth to get information out of theirs did nothingー if anything, he felt more numb when it was over. 

he can see a familiar box from the corner of his eye: it’s the brand of bandages he always uses, the only kind that doesn’t irritate his scarred, sensitive skin. he watches your fingers as they delicately pull the beginning of the roll, imagining the feeling of you wrapped around his bare body instead of the cotton he adorns himself with. 

you turn him on his side to wrap the bandages around his shoulder and under his arm. once the ends are tied, nice and snug around him, you sit back on your heels.

“can i have your hand?” 

he gives you both, trying to hide the way they tremble. you grab the one covered in blood tenderly as you begin to clean it off. 

“i guess you weren’t lucky enough to die this time,” you smile teasingly, but he knows it isn’t real. it doesn’t look right on your face, like a mask that’s too big. he can see the worry you try to hide, clouding your eyes like murky water. he hates it. “sorry.”

“i never get what i want,” he sighs. “i think i’m cursed. do you have something to cure that in one of those little bottles too?”

“i don’t know if you’ll ever die, even when you become an old man,” if, not when, he wants to correct, but holds his tongue. “you’re like a cockroach.”

“yeah?” he reaches up to poke your face with his bloody fingers as you try to hold him still. “you’re like a little kid.”

“you’re more like a kid than i am.”

“nuh uh.”

“yeah,” you giggle, catching his hand back in your own. you wipe down each of his fingers, gently scrubbing the spaces in between. “you are.”

when he speaks again, he’s surprised by how quiet his voice is. he almost hopes you don’t hear him. “how?”

“because,” your voice softens, holding his now clean hand. you trace over one of the lines on his palm with your thumb.  “you want to be loved.”

he feels like he can’t breathe as he realizes that for once, he doesn’t have the upper hand. all of his walls he’s so carefully built, it’s like they’re made of glass around you. the possibility that you see him more clearly than he sees you terrifies him. 

the painkillers are starting to kick in, drowsiness creeping up on him and making his eyelids heavy as he melts against the cushions despite his pounding heart. when was the last time he slept? he can’t remember.your fingers are gentle as they brush his bangs back. your touch makes his eyes fall completely closed before he feels something soft and warm presses against his forehead. he hears a whisper of his name, a quiet sweet dreams, and then he’s asleep.

it only really feels like he blinked. when he opens his eyes again, it’s dark. the light from your kitchen leaks through the hall, permeating the living room in a soft glow. he wiggles his toes, feeling the soft blanket you draped over his legs while he slept.

he gets up slowly, creeping off the couch and across your floor. he peeks past the kitchen doorway, grinning when he sees your back is facing him. you’re halfway bent over the counter with your chin resting in your hand, staring absently at the tea kettle on the stove, waiting for it to boil.

he keeps his steps quiet, walking on the tips of his toes. he sinks his teeth into his lip to bite back his smile as he leans closer, taking advantage of the fact you’re completely zoned out.

“boo.”

you flinch, hand closing around a butterknife on your counter, still smeared with jelly from a late-night snack. you turn sharply, pointing the dull blade in his direction. he grabs your wrist before it grazes him, smiling innocently.

“dazai,” he thinks his name sounds so pretty when you sigh it out like that. you drop the knife back onto your counter. “should you even be standing right now? go lay back down. i can bring you something to eat.”

the thought of you taking care of him like this ignites that warm feeling in his stomach again. an image of you as his personal nurse forms in his mind, and his insides flip at the thought. he wonders if being an executive would give him enough leniency to put you in a little white dress; surely there was one lying around somewhere at headquarters.

“what, did you hit your head too?” he whines when you poke his forehead, hard. “are you feeling better?”

he pouts at you, gaze drifting over your shoulder to a bottle of sake on the counter. it definitely wasn’t there the last time he was here.

“oh〜” he perks, holding the bottle up by its neck, eyes sparkling. “this is fancy! where did you get this from, hm? some secret date i don’t know about?”

“ane-san,” your eyes narrow as he flicks the stove off, breaking the seal on the bottle excitedly. “it was a gift from her after we finished that raid in osaka.”

he sniffs it, then takes a big sip straight from the bottle. it leaves a pleasant sting along the inside of his throat as he swallows.

he sits himself down on your kitchen tiles, pressing his back against the cabinets, cradling the sake in his arms. there’s something angelic about the way your kitchen light haloes around you as he looks up at you from the floor. 

he holds the bottle up, sloshing the liquid as he wiggles it back and forth. he pulls it out of your reach each time you try to grab it until you have no choice but to sit next to him, stretching across his lap to take it from him. you follow his lead and take a small sip from the mouth of the bottle, sighing as you sag backward. 

“what happened this time, anyway?” you tilt your head toward him lazily, gaze dipping down to his bandaged shoulder. 

“someone had bad aim,” he sighs, holding a finger up to his temple. “missed my head. unlucky, right?”

you take a bigger, longer sip.

“i don’t like when you get hurt, you know.”

he’s relieved your head is on his bandaged blindside; he doesn’t know if he wants to see the look on your face right now. he takes the bottle from you, taking a longer sip of his own.

“do you remember when we used to go to the beach?” he can hear the smile in your voice, and it makes his own rise on his cheeks. the two of you would always go after missions, bodies bruised and hair knotted. it was always early enough to watch the sunrise from the shore, eating a breakfast of shared instant ramen and candy stolen from the konbini down the street. 

he can only ignore the way the edge of the counter presses into the back of his head for so long, leaning his cheek against your hair and listening to you breathe. he can tell you’re getting tipsy when you start to cling to him, clumsily crawling into his lap. you insist on being the one to rebutton his shirt, swatting his hands away when he tries to do it himself. 

“can we go now?” the curl of your lip hits him like an arrow through his heart. “to the beach? please?”

you’re so close again, looking up at him so prettily through your lashes. your hands warm as they rest above his heart, like you could go right through him and steal it for yourself, and he knows he could never possibly say no. 

you pick his coat up off the floor before you leave, draping it over his shoulders. you tug it a little tighter around him, nodding to yourself in satisfaction before you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers and tugging him out the door.

the nighttime air is warm and sticky, but it gets cooler the closer you get to the shore. he keeps your smaller body close to his, guard raising as you approach the edge of port mafia territory. 

the sand sinks beneath his feet with every step, and he pulls his shoes off by the heel. the waves lap calmly, dancing back and forth with no audience to watch as they tease the shore. he breathes in deep, feeling his lungs expand, inviting the salt and sand inside.

you drop limply onto the ground, laying your head on his shoulder when he sits next to you. it’s quiet, only the distant sound of traffic and the soft splashing of water.

“i wish it could be like this all the time.” you sigh. there’s a determined glint in your sleepy eyes when you look up at him. “let’s run away.”

he smiles, tilting his head toward you until your noses are close enough to brush. “and just where would you take me?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble. “i don’t care as long as i’m with you.”

he always thought he was born with an empty cavity in place of where his heart should be, but around you, it felt so full he could explode. he thinks if he tried to say anything right now, something icky, like the pile of seaweed he can see rotting by the water, would come out of his mouth instead.

a particularly big wave draws your attention away from him, and he frowns when you look away. it only deepens when you stand up and leave him, walking towards the ocean. he watches as you stumble down the wet sand, squealing when the water splashes against your feet. you don’t stop walking until the water is deep enough to cover your shins.

he follows you to the water, hopping on each foot over the big rocks. he’s careful not to slip, crouching on the furthest one out to keep a closer eye on you. he keeps his weight on his ankles, spreading his knees and resting his arms between them. he feels drops of salt water hit his face as the waves crash against the sea stacks, gently blowing the fabric of his jacket. 

you turn back and smile at him, holding your hand out. the moon is large and eternal behind you, taking up nearly all the space in the sky and casting a pale blue glow over the dark water. it reflects onto you, illuminating your body in soft light, and he swears he’s never seen someone look so beautiful. you open and close your hand impatiently when he doesn’t move.

“what are you doing over there?” you tilt your head. “c’mere. it’s warm.”

he doesn’t bother to pull up his pants as he slips into the ocean, letting the waves move the fabric as they ebb and flow. he looks down at himself; he nearly blends in with the water, looking black in the night. he almost thinks he’ll dissolve into it like ink and wash away into the sea. 

you beam at him as the water laps at your knees. he wiggles his toes into the wet sand and waits to feel the unbridled joy that standing here seems to cause. all he feels is goop between his toes, and he sighs in disappointment. he wants to understand why something like this made you so happy. he wants to feel it too.

“isn’t it nice?” you smile up at him, and he wishes he could bottle it up and keep it for himself. that smile was just for him.

don’t.

he leans closer. he can’t help it; there’s alcohol still warm in his veins, and you’re magnetic.

don’t.

even closer, until he can feel your soft exhale against his face, eyes big. he always thought you were the prettiest up close.

you’ll lose her once you have her.

he freezes. he doesn’t have time to completely change his mind and forget this little slip-up ever happened before you close the gap, pressing your lips against his. you’re just as soft as he imagined, gentle even when you kiss him, like he was something worth handling with care.

you pull back all too soon, looking down at where his legs disappear beneath the water.

“sorry,” you mumble, and the watery way your voice comes out makes something ache deep inside of him. “i…i don’t know why i did that.”

oh.

he didn’t kiss you back.

he didn’t move, he didn’t even breathe. he almost wants to laugh; you really like him too. you, with your stupid smile, making his heart flutter and his stomach hurt when it’s directed toward him. you, letting him sleep in your bed when he breaks into your apartment, holding his blood-soaked hands and letting him get close, despite knowing what he was. you were so, so stupid. 

he cups your cheeks with trembling fingers, bringing you back to his mouth. this could be the biggest mistake of his life; the fact he wants you could be your death sentence, but he’s never wanted anything else so badly before in his entire, sad life. 

he thought it’d be weird to touch you like this, but it only feels right. when his hands hover over your waist, you press them into your skin, and he can’t help but think they fit perfectly there, like you were made to be held by him.

you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against his nape, and his knees nearly buckle. he thinks if they did, if he fell into the sand right now and washed out to sea, he’d be content, but you’d never let that happen. he wouldn't even be mad if you resuscitated him; nothing would be better than your lips breathing life back into him. he wonders how mad you’d be if he tried to pull that as an excuse to have another kiss.

he kisses your forehead, your nose, and then tilts your chin up to kiss you properly agai , swallowing the giggle you press against his lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get enough of you now that he’s had a taste.

“is this really okay?” you’re looking up at him with eyes bigger than the moon, glittering just as bright.

“yeah,” he can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. “it’s okay.”

BSD MASTERLIST

taglist . . . @little-miss-chaoss @almond-t0fu @yaeeko @annoyingpainterprincess @callm3-tash1

@janbannan @snowsilver2000 @mochiii-sama @aureatchi @bakananya

@warcelia

Heart to heart — d. osamu

synopsis. seeing your boyfriend’s ex makes you question if you really are enough for him

content. fem!reader, ada!reader, hurt/comfort, has a made-up character

notes. a request written here ! @hyunorue, @walnutnut since you wanted to be tagged, i adjusted a few things but hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

“‘samu, we just had a lunch break..” 

you mention softly as you let him lead you out of the agency office. of course dazai wants to ditch work with you once again despite all your efforts to make him do the opposite. often you don’t go along with his antics since you actually value the paperwork and don’t want to stress kunikida even further. unfortunately, today was one of those days where dazai wins.

“so? we were still working then and have every right to get a break now!” dazai tells you as if there is no problem with what he said. you raise an eyebrow and stare at him sceptically. “more like i was the one working, you just pouted and sat next to me because i wasn’t focusing on you.” you point out while both of you walk down the stairs.

“how cruel, bella! i did write on my report,” he says dramatically, holding his free hand to his chest when the other hand is still intertwined with yours. “i saw you add exactly five words.” you respond bluntly as you remember your gaze flickering to his laptop to see what he was doing from before. dazai gives you a fake offended look before opening the door for you to exit.

the cafe right below the agency was the go-to place to take a break or even have lunch. and today was no different. two of you sit down at one of the tables and order your usual. you still weren’t at ease though. “you know if kunikida happened to be at the office currently then we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” 

dazai hummed indifferently, taking your hand in his again as he rubbed gentle circles on the back of it. a warm smile tugged at his lips. “kunikida this and kunikida that but how about you relax? don’t worry, i’ll just—”

he abruptly stopped speaking when he looked behind you towards the entrance of the cafe, the sound of the doorbell ringing filling the space. you feel confused and decide to call his name, but to no avail. before you can even turn around a woman’s voice can be heard throughout the room.

“oh my god! is that you, dazai?” she gasps and you saw the way his body stiffened. almost right away you can tell something is wrong. the woman walks up to the table you were sitting at, an amused grin on her face. you can’t help but wonder who she is. dazai has never mentioned knowing other women besides you and some others at the agency. what is going on?

“why long time no see! you do remember me right?” she says to him with an upbeat tone, her gaze shifting to you afterwards. the moment she did you realised something. she looked pretty. stunning even, her golden wavy hair fitting so well with her hazel eyes. while her expression seemed friendly, as soon as she looked at you, you felt somewhat uncomfortable. you felt as if she judged your whole being right now.

“i do, yuna. what are you doing here?” dazai’s voice was much colder in comparison to talking to you earlier. okay so dazai does know her. then she has to be someone from his past. someone he has never told you about. perhaps a friend, a relative or a… oh.  

yuna merely hums in response. “this cafe is a public place, no? just wanted to get a coffee but ran into you instead. how have you been?” she asks dazai, mostly ignoring you and it makes you feel like you’re not supposed to be here. your suspicions about who she is make this even worse. 

dazai sighs rather heavily. “now is not the time. seriously.” it’s obvious that he is trying to get her to leave but yuna doesn’t seem to get the hint. “woah you’re so tense, i mean no harm…” she says with a softer tone despite the playful smile growing on her lips, calmly bringing her hand to dazai’s shoulder as if i wasn’t even there. it’s becoming harder to not get annoyed because who does she think she is? 

your lips form into a thin line as you watch her get dangerously comfortable around him. you were about to give yuna a piece of your mind but dazai already got ahead of you. without hesitation, he pries her hand off his shoulder and she’s surprised by his action. 

“yuna, this is your last warning. i need you to stop acting like we’re anything more than strangers and respectfully, get the fuck out of here.” he spoke with a stern tone and looked into her eyes the entire time. you’re definitely not used to seeing him get genuinely mad at someone. 

small shock crosses her face and she seems taken aback by his sudden words. a moment of tense silence passes before yuna scoffs. “fine, be like that then. have fun with your new little girlfriend,” she says mockingly, her friendly tone long gone and you were not ready for the look she gave you. it was full of loathing and bitterness, like you were far beneath her.

and now you want to sink six feet underground. you hate how much she managed to affect you and you pray that she can’t tell from your expression. you shouldn’t even care what she thinks of you but assuming that she had some type of relationship with dazai before, you can’t help but feel out of place.

yuna finally leaves the place and dazai’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “i’m so sorry that you had to witness this,” he says with a sigh, “are you okay?” you can see it in his gaze that he is really apologetic and you don’t how to feel anymore. all of this could’ve been avoided if you just stayed at the agency.

“yeah, i’m fine. was that your ex?” you ask, ignoring the stirring emotions in your chest. dazai seems to think a little before answering. “not exactly. i haven’t talked to her in years now. i thought she moved away… but it doesn’t matter. let’s just focus on us, yeah?” 

you still had so many questions but you simply nod and take a sip of your drink. a worried glint remains in his eyes but you decide to ignore it and act like you’re okay with everything that happened. 

because you’re anything but okay.

yosano keeps giving you strange looks as you look through some files. you try to focus on work but the cafe incident won’t leave your mind no matter how hard you try. she can probably tell something is wrong. she’s a doctor after all. 

“y/n, did something happen?” yosano speaks up calmly while she sits on her office chair. you shift your gaze from the paper to her and blink in surprise. “ah, no. why are you asking?” you respond, trying to seem clueless.

“you’ve been staring at the same page for over five minutes now and i know for a fact you’re not that slow of a reader. your thoughts are elsewhere.” okay maybe it was more obvious than you anticipated. you know there’s no use to denying her at this point. with a defeated sigh, you sit down on a chair near her desk.

“it’s kind of stupid.” you’re still a little hesitant about this because while you and her got along well, you haven’t opened up about your problems to her before. her face softens slightly as she leans back on her chair. “surely it’s not if it has you acting this odd.”

a minute of silence passes before you start talking. “well me and osamu went on a break to the cafe and then this woman appeared out of nowhere, someone who he knew in the past and…” you pause, gathering your words, “after a tense conversation she finally leaves us alone. even if she did try to look friendly at first, i could tell she did not like me.”

“so it was jealousy or something?” yosano guessed, listening intently and you sigh again in return. “i don’t know. i asked osamu about her too and i didn’t really get any answers,” you say as you think about it. why did he barely tell you anything? is he hiding something? god you’re starting to overthink again.

yosano notices your troubled expression and decides to slowly move a little closer to you with her chair. “listen, let me ask you this—how did he react when she started talking to him?” she asks while looking into your eyes. 

“very irritated, in a way that I rarely see.” that’s true, there was a genuine glimpse of anger in his irises, it was surprising even to you. yosano nods and seems to think for a moment before speaking.

“do you trust him?”

you’re slightly caught off guard by the question. of course you trust him. through all the missions you have gone on with him, he always makes your safety the top priority and you know that you can trust him with your life. 

without thinking twice you nod in response and a small smile appears on her face. “then i’m sure you don’t need to get too concerned. plus from what i’ve seen, he loves and cares about you more than anything else.” she tells you with a warm tone.

her words manage to somewhat ease you because she must be right. you love him dearly and he feels the same. and that’s what is important. yeah, you can’t forget that. you give yosano a grateful look. “you’re right, thank you.”

the confidence you had a few hours ago is long gone. you don’t know how long you have been sitting on your bedroom floor alone, stuck in your thoughts. you left the agency a while ago, telling dazai you were going to a case related place so he wouldn’t get suspicious. in reality you couldn’t understand yourself. why are you so upset? even yosano assured you that there’s no need to worry.

everything was fine before going to the cafe and having that encounter with her but it shouldn't matter because it’s plain to see that dazai doesn’t care about her nor like her anymore. it’s not like he’s cheating on you which you know he would never do. but you do wonder how they met, you wonder if they were actually together and on top of all, you wonder what happened between them. 

because despite her cold behaviour, she was gorgeous to say the least. and maybe if you got along with her then she would have a nicer personality as well. honestly yuna seemed like everything you’re not. it makes you doubt yourself. just what does dazai see in you? you have heard his flowery and flattering comments more than you can count but what if he doesn’t mean them?

it’s such a silly thought but you can’t stop pondering over it. you’re so much in your head that you didn’t even notice to hear the soft creak of the door opening.

“love?”

your breath falters. you know that voice all too well. you can’t find it in yourself to answer, keeping your face buried in your arms as your knees are pressed to your chest. you hear him moving and you can tell he’s closer to you now.

“what’s wrong?” dazai asks gently and you can’t help but feel embarrassed since you are not sure how to answer. you wish you could act like you’re fine.

you stay quiet and after a moment he speaks up again. “yosano told me some stuff regarding you,” he says and now you really have no chance of hiding anything. it never crossed your mind that she might tell him. he knows why you are like this and you hate that.

“osamu, why are you with me?” your voice is more unstable than you would’ve liked. you raise your head and see that he’s sitting right beside you on the floor. his gaze goes softer and more concerned when you look at him. you then realise your cheeks are wet.

“why? because i love you of course,” he says so easily, a tender smile adorning his lips. you remain doubtful. “then will you tell me who she was? was yuna really not your ex?” you question him as you can feel your throat getting tighter, desperate for answers.

dazai’s smile fades and he lets out a quiet sigh. “me and her were friends with benefits at best. sometimes i could tell she wanted to be more than that but unbeknownst to her, i was aware of all the other boys she was hanging out with. we had an argument over it and i ended everything with her on the spot.”

you stare at him for a few seconds as you process his words. he is not lying, you can tell that much. you suck in a breath as your vision grows slightly blurry. “i just don’t get it. she was so pretty, osamu. out of all people you chose me when i’m barely anything in comparison to her. i—“ your voice cracks as you try to stop your tears. you have never seen yourself the way he does and at times it scares you because what if one day he will see you exactly like you see yourself?

you avoid his gaze and the fact he hasn’t said a single word makes you want to cry more. he brings his hand to your cheek and slowly guides you back to face him. what greeted you instead of pity was a warm smile and eyes full of fondness.

“my dear, are you hearing yourself right now? without any exaggeration, you’re the most breathtaking woman i have ever met inside and out. i would never love someone so much based off only their appearance. and do you know what makes you so precious?” 

you sniffle as your gaze is connected to his. you can’t help but lean into his touch while his hand cradles the side of your face. “what.?” you ask.

“you make me feel human. you make life worth living and i couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of my days with you.” his tone is filled with tenderness and sincerity. it almost makes you question whether you’re dreaming but his touch wouldn’t feel so real and soothing in any of them. 

and then you smile lightly. you really were overthinking it. as relief washes over you, your body moves on its own and your wrap around his waist, hugging him tightly. dazai returns the gesture and places a kiss on your head, softly rubbing your back. tears were still escaping your eyes but this time it wasn’t out of sadness. 

he suddenly seems to remember something and whispers into your ear. “oh and there are some flowers waiting on the table for you.”

my writing is so weird in this i’m sorry (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

❦ FAMILY MEN

ft. kita, suna, atsumu, osamu

MASTERLIST

—kita

another long and exhausting week. because your husband always gets up early and comes back late everyday because of his work, and you watch the baby all day, you both are dead to the world when you sleep until you hear the cries of your child. it’s instinct; so when you didn’t hear the baby in the middle of the night, you woke up anyway with worry. only to find shinsuke bouncing them, his lips singing a soft and out of tune lullaby that took you back to your childhood. you know for a fact that your child didn’t cry that night, your husband just wanted to hold them while they slept, despite his tired eyes, he wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.

—suna

“no, i’m mom’s favourite.” your husband argued rather vehemently with your son as you ate dinner together. it was endearing to listen to, especially because of the fact that your son couldn’t speak. his baby babbling created bubbles of his food along his mouth. rintaro shook his head and wiped him with the napkin.

“yea, right, i’m way better at volleyball than you.” he scoffed at his kid. “that’s why your mom fell in love with me in the first place.”

“rin,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “stop it.”

he sent you an innocent smile before turning to the baby again, he made sure you could see him mouth ‘you won’t beat me.’

—atsumu

if you couldn’t find your toddler, she was with her dad. today, they were in the garage, atsumu had arm and chest day, he sat on the bench, daughter in his arms as he curled her. despite the smile on his lips, his breathing and counting were even, only interrupted by her continuous giggles as she squirmed in his hold. when the set was done, he set her down and you saw them look at each other with stars in their eyes.

“’m gonna be as strong as you when i grow up!” she told him.

“hell yea!” atsumu raised his hand and your little girl jumped to smack is hand.

“hell yea!” she repeated and atsumu’s face dropped.

“…don’t tell yer mum i taught’cha that.”

—osamu

“ya gotta shape it with love, baby.” he told his daughter, hands full of rice as they stood in the kitchen.

your daughter pouted, fingers stuck with rice as she glared at the tuna filling that fell on the cutting board. “i make with hate.” she said and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“yer too much like yer mum—go sit down.” osamu shooed her to you, and she happily obliged as she ate the rice off her fingers.

“why’d you do that, baby?” you asked and pet her head. “you’re great at this.”

“daddy makes the best onigiri.” she smiled at you before turning back to her father and watched him work. “i want him to cook for me my whole life.”

she clearly didn’t mean for him to hear, but you could see the foolish smile tugging at his lips.

wrong twin? (miya atsumu x reader)

summary: you have a massive crush on miya osamu. so the plan is to get closer to him through his twin brother. it’s genius. it’s bound to work. right?

word count: 3008

warnings: fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, swearing, maybe a dash of humor, atsumu being atsumu, him and reader bicker a lot

tags: @keiva1000

When you handed in your application to join the Inarizaki High School volleyball club as manager, you had a very clear agenda in mind, but nobody needed to know about that. You had a good knowledge of volleyball, you had good organizational skills, and you were responsible. They accepted your application in a heartbeat, and were none the wiser of your true intentions behind joining the team.

It was only when you cornered their blond setter after practice one day that you actually said the words out loud.

“Ya want me to do what?” He raised an eyebrow, shoving his volleyball shoes into his backpack.

“Help me get close to him!” You whispered in a conspiratorial tone, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to you two. Your eyes lingered on Osamu where he was helping Gin clean up. “You’re his twin brother. You’re closest to him. If we hang out more, that would inevitably mean I get to hang out with Osamu more too. And we can become friends. Eventually, I will get him to fall in love with me.”

Atsumu stared at you with a very distinct ‘what the fuck’ look, but you stared right back, determined.

“Yer insane.” He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way to the gym door. You followed behind.

“Please, Atsumu!” You begged, following him out of the gym and down the path leading out of the school.

“No!” He responded, not looking back at you. “Ya wanna get close to him, just go talk to him! Why ya gotta drag me into yer crazy schemes?!”

“I can’t just go talk to him, it would be creepy! I need a way into his circle.”

Atsumu gave you another look. “Oh yeah, what yer saying right now isn’t creepy at all.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

You huffed, scowling at the back of his blond head. Your eyes caught the lights of the corner convenience store, and you felt an idea forming.

“I will buy you an after-practice snack every day for a year.”

Atsumu stopped short, looking back at you. “Yer bein’ serious?”

You gestured to the store up ahead. “We could start right now. I have money on me.”

His answering grin meant you had a deal.

……………………

When you joined the twins for lunch the next day at Atsumu’s desk, Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“It was my idea.” Atsumu explained. “She’s cool so I said we should hang out more.”

Osamu seemed to buy it, shrugging and giving you a welcoming little smile. You felt yourself flush, giddy as you pulled up a chair and sat down next to Atsumu, opposite to his brother.

“Oh sweet, are those pancake rolls?” Osamu asked when you opened your bento. You nodded eagerly.

“I made them myself!” You replied, pushing the box closer to him. “Wanna try?”

You knew Osamu liked food (okay, maybe you had stalked him a little), and even though you sucked at cooking, you had meticulously made your lunch today for this very reason. You couldn’t help your grin when Osamu bit into a roll and moaned at the taste, saying it was delicious. You could feel how hot your face was, even the tips of your ears felt warm. Atsumu rolled his eyes in your periphery but you paid him no mind, striking up a conversation with his brother instead.

“Yer like a different person around him.” Atsumu commented later that evening, when you were sitting on the curb outside the convenience store and he was chowing down on a pork bun you had bought him. The rest of the team had gone ahead, most of them too tired to stop for a snack and just wanting to get to bed as soon as possible.

You sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. He makes me feel things.”

Atsumu chewed for a little bit, watching you stare at the moth circling the streetlight.

“Gross.”

You slapped him hard on the bicep at that, making him let out an ‘ow!’. He pouted at you as he rubbed his arm, while all you did was roll your eyes in return.

……………………………

Lunch became a normal thing with the twins after that. You would wake up at 5am, cook something new that you thought Osamu might appreciate, and you would watch him devour it, praising you for how good it was. One time, Atsumu had gotten curious and tried to reach for a piece of onigiri, making you smack his hand away. He yelped and clutched it.

“What was that for?!”

“You already get a snack out of me every day, Miya. Keep your paws off my lunch.”

Osamu had snickered at that, and your heart had skipped at the sound, effectively forgetting Atsumu even existed as your focus shifted entirely to his brother. Atsumu grumbled but complied, saying something about ‘’s probably not that good anyway’. You paid him no mind.

You got to know Osamu a lot better during your little lunch sessions. He didn’t talk as much as his brother, but he was perceptive, and a great listener. He seemed to balance out Atsumu perfectly, and you could see how close they actually were. You would often giggle at their banter, witnessing the many foul names they would call each other, but knowing they didn’t mean it at the end of the day.

You often went to their house, under the guise of tutoring Atsumu. At first, Atsumu had told you no one would buy it, but you were adamant to try. And you were right. When you told Osamu why you were there, he snorted in response.

“Figures. This dumb fuck needs all the help he can get.”

Atsumu had yelled and tried to swat at his brother, but Osamu expertly dodged him. You had laughed at their antics.

Your study sessions were often spent with you stealing glances at Osamu from the dining table where you and Atsumu were located. He wouldn’t stick around much, preferring to camp out in their shared bedroom, but you still appreciated every glimpse that you got of him when he wandered down to the kitchen for a snack. Atsumu would nudge you with his knee under the table.

“Be a little less obvious, will ya?”

You stuck a middle finger in his face in response. He grabbed your hand and twisted it a bit, just enough to make you yelp and try to push him away.

“Tsumu, you jerk! Let go!”

“Say sorry!”

“Over my dead body!”

Osamu had to break you two apart sometimes, while you glared at each other from either side of him.

At practice, you would stay late when they needed help perfecting their quick attack, throwing balls so Atsumu could set them for Osamu. On the way back, you would buy Atsumu his daily snack and offer to pay for Osamu’s as well, which he always refused.

“Unlike this tool, I’m not shameless enough to let someone else pay fer me.”

“Hey!”

With every passing day, you felt that you were getting closer and closer to Osamu. Where you had barely exchanged words before, you two could hold long conversations now, and you especially loved when you ganged up to shit on Atsumu, who would be overdramatic as hell about the insults and act like he just got shot. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed so much.

Then, Osamu got a girlfriend.

You didn’t learn about it until you saw a girl at the gym on one random Wednesday. You had raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she looked around for something.

“Can I help you?”

She shook her head. “I’m just looking for Osamu. He left some stuff at my place last night.”

Your brain short circuited. Her place? Last night?

Then he ran over to her. Greeted her and thanked her for bringing his stuff. And then he kissed her.

You were mentally tuned out of practice for the rest of the evening.

When Atsumu walked up to you after practice so you could make your usual trip to the convenience store, you had just silently followed him. You had bought him some yakusoba bread, and you sat on the curb, waiting to walk home after he finished eating.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You finally asked.

Atsumu sighed in return. “Didn’t want ya to get hurt.”

You turned to look at him. His attention was on the bread. “Did you expect me to never find out?”

He shook his head. “I was hopin’ to tell ya after practice. Just couldn’t think of the words.”

For some reason, you felt anger boil up inside you. You stood up abruptly. Atsumu paused his chewing to look up at you.

“I don’t need you to coddle me, Tsumu.” You grit out. “That was not the deal.”

Atsumu didn’t seem fazed by your tone. “Sit down.”

You glared at him. “I’m going home.”

When you turned to leave, you were stopped by his hand reaching up to clutch at the hem of your jacket, pulling you back.

“I know yer hurtin’. Just sit.”

You don’t know why that did it. Tears that had been building up all during practice were set free, rolling down your cheeks. Silently, you sat back down next to him. He didn’t talk as you cried, only shuffling closer until his side was pressed to yours. An unexpected comfort came to you with the contact. You leaned on him, resting your head on your knees, shoulders shaking.

When you had calmed down enough, you wiped your face with your sleeves, sitting up straighter. Atsumu extended his bread to you. You raised an eyebrow.

“When have you ever shared with me before?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ya want it or not?”

The bread seemed to melt in your mouth. Food did make you feel a bit better, but your mind was still on Osamu.

“‘M sorry yer scheme didn’t work out.”

You laughed a bit, taking another bite. “When you call it a scheme, it makes me think it was bound to fail from the start.”

Atsumu shook his head. “Nah. Ya made an effort. I respect that.” He stretched his legs in front of him, leaning back on his hands. “Yer a real catch. Yer smart and yer pretty. Samu’s blind ta not see that.”

You giggled, nudging Atsumu a bit. “Careful, Tsum-tsum. I might think you were falling for me.”

If your emotions weren’t so over the place, and if you hadn’t just tired yourself out from crying so much, you would’ve noticed how the older Miya’s eyes softened.

…………………………

Getting over Osamu wasn’t easy. Especially after having chased after him for so many months. It didn’t help that his little girlfriend seemed to come around more often, sometimes joining the team during practice. At times like those, you tried to stay as far away from her and Osamu, and that often meant you would find comfort in Atsumu, the only person who knew about your crush.

“What does he see in her anyway?” You voiced out loud, watching her laugh at something Osamu had said. You were sitting on a bench outside the gym with Atsumu, watching the two interact on the other side of the path. The rest of the team still weren’t done with their run. As usual, the twins were the first ones to reach the school.

Atsumu ran a towel over his neck, setting his water bottle down next to him. “Ya need ta get over him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Easy for you to say. You’ve never loved anything except volleyball.”

“Damn right. Has volleyball ever betrayed me? No. So suck it.”

You dug your elbow into his side, making him yelp and grab your head, pushing you away. His hand was massive and covered over half your face, and you struggled to get him off, digging your nails into his forearm.

“Tsumu, you asshole-”

You didn’t even notice when Osamu stared at the two of you, too absorbed in your little squabble.

So yeah, getting over Osamu wasn’t easy, but having Atsumu around helped a ton. Everytime he would see your eyes linger on Osamu too long, he would make some sort of comment, or change the subject, just trying to get your attention anywhere else. Too many times, he would physically grab you and turn you away from his twin, saying something along the lines of how you should be looking at the ‘better twin’ instead.

“Sorry but which one of you decided to dye their hair the color of piss?”

“It’s blond!”

“You ever heard of toner, dumbass?”

And you would grab his hair, messing it up and tugging at it a bit, giggling when he whined about you ruining his ‘hairstyle’. You also knew that Atsumu would kill anyone else who dared touch his hair, and the fact made your heart skip a bit. It also made you think, and once the gears in your head started turning, there was no going back.

Now that the fog of your infatuation with Osamu was lifting a bit, you seemed to notice his twin more. You would watch how Atsumu seemed to almost shield you from anything that reminded you of Osamu. How he had made it a habit after that one evening to always share half his snack with you, no matter how small it was. He would often say out of pocket shit, but rather than annoying you, it seemed to endear you more. It was like these little quips were a part of his charm, and you would giggle along instead of telling him to shut up.

He was awfully touchy too. You suppose he had always been, and you had just never thought about it. But now it seemed like none of his moves went unnoticed by you. He had a habit of gripping your head with one hand and turning your face to his when you weren’t paying attention. It used to annoy the crap out of you but now it made you pause and blink, meeting his caramel colored eyes. He would nudge you and poke you, he would drape an arm over your shoulders and whine about how tired he was. And your cheeks would warm up every time. You were forced to admit it.

You had a thing for Atsumu.

Deep down, you cursed at your luck, almost laughing in incredulity. What a joke this was, having a crush on both twins. But you knew that this was different. You knew this wasn’t just a silly crush.

Atsumu was more. He had always been more.

“Tsumu?”

He hummed in response, indicating he was listening, even if he was busy stuffing a chocolate bar into his mouth. You two were in your usual place, sitting on the curb outside the convenience store, lit up only by the light of the store behind you and the lamp post across the street. You watched his profile, the way his jaw moved when he chewed, his eyes trained before him, his undercut, and his dyed hair falling over his forehead slightly.

He was so painfully attractive. And you had never noticed.

He looked at you finally when you didn’t speak, raising an eyebrow.

“Everythin’ okay?”

You nodded hastily, turning away from him. You heard him pause, wrapping up what was left of his chocolate and placing it next to him before shuffling closer to you.

“Yer lyin’. What is it?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “You can read me so well.”

He shrugged in response, draping his arm over your shoulder. You closed your eyes, mentally accepting how the action now made you feel.

“I did spend the whole year hearin’ ya whine about yer feelings, so yeah. I can read ya pretty well.”

You sighed, turning your head to look at him. At this proximity, you could see the brown swirling in his eyes, and it reminded you of milk chocolate. You were nearly nose to nose with him, and you weren’t nervous at all. With Osamu, you would always be on edge. Your insides would squirm, your heart would race, and oftentimes, you would stumble over your words.

With Atsumu, you felt every muscle in your body relax when he touched you. Despite his chaotic personality and his crude language, Atsumu was so tuned in when it came to you. When you needed it, he was as calm as they come. There was such unprecedented comfort in his presence. When you were around him, it felt like everything would be okay.

“I love you.”

It came out of you involuntarily at that moment. But you weren’t scared to tell him. You should have been, but one look at him this close and all your fears were melting away. When Atsumu gave you a little smile, you couldn’t help but return it.

“I love ya too, sweets.”

His kiss was expected. Soft, slow, perfect. His lips were plush and warm, and he tasted like the chocolate he had just been eating. His arm around your shoulder tightened, and his other hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your head enough to deepen the kiss. You felt your head buzz, your hands fisting at the front of his shirt and trying to pull him closer, though it was impossible.

You whined in protest when he ended the kiss, making him chuckle slightly. The sound made your lips twitch up a bit, and you ran your eyes all over his face. He hummed in approval.

“There it is.”

You blinked. “What?”

He traced your cheekbone with his thumb. “Ya know how long I’ve wanted ya to look at me like that and not Samu?”

Right. Samu. You had forgotten about him completely the moment Atsumu’s lips touched yours. The thought made you giggle and pull at his jacket collar to tug him close, until his lips were meeting yours again.