aly-insanity

[aly-insanity]

Aqua Regia — experimentation is for the bold.

Read Aqua Regia // masterlist

Neuvillette x Fem!reader x Wriothesley (heavy heavy wriothesley x neuvillette)

Word count: 8.6k

After being married for a few years, your husband asks if you’d be willing to… experiment a little within your intimate life. Your best friend wriothesley is happy to help.

WARNING: SMUT, NSFW 18+ MDNI

CW: m/m/f threesome, m/f and m/m sex. Wriothesley fucks you and your husband. possessiveness(neuvi), danger kink(wrio), growling, slamming into walls, making out, vaginal fingering, anal fingering(male rec), vaginal sex, anal sex(male rec), Neuvillettes inhuman tongue, mentions of Neuvillettes dragon dicks, biting, minor mentions of blood at the end, clitoral stimulation, teasing.

Authors note: okay, okay. Listen. Listen. I had to, okay? Look— it doesn’t have to be AR canon if you’re not into it. It’s not imperative to the plot. It was just so eaaaaasssyyyyyyyyyy. No, Wriothesley isn’t joining the marriage, it’s not becoming a thing, but I am a firm believer that people can fuck their besties if they wanna and it can be chill. Fuck your besties!!! Especially if they look like wriothesley!!! Let your boy best friend fuck your husband!!! Especially if your husband looks like Neuvillette!!

“Have you ever had sex with a man?”

Wriothesley spit his tea across the entirety of his desk, soaking the morning paper crossword puzzle he was half paying attention to.

“I’m sorry, what?” He sputtered, wiping the leftover tea from his mouth and gaping at you with his blue eyes wide.

You simply shrugged, pretending like his reaction wasn’t the most hilarious thing you’ve seen in months. Though, you were expecting him to react something like that.

He was your best friend, but you’d never really talked about either of your sex lives before, mostly because you didn’t have a sex life before Neuvillette, and you always felt too awkward to talk about these things with Wriothesley.

The past couple years with Neuvillette had really whittled down your self consciousness on the subject though, and your more recent conversations with your husband had left you quite curious.

“Just a question, you don't have to answer if you’re not comfortable talking about it though.” You said, nonchalantly sipping your tea, trying to hide the grin threatening its way into your cheeks.

“No, no.” He said, rolling his neck as if the shock of the moment had put a crick in it. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. You just… don’t ever talk about this kinda stuff.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable discussing it with me, that's all.” You said, setting your tea down. “That and— up until Neuvillette, I didn’t really have any experience to speak of.”

He rolled his eyes. Wriothesley often joked about how gross you and your husband were. Flirting when no one was paying attention, stolen glances across the room, poorly concealed marks on your bodies— he called you shameless, teasing you but never prying.

“Well I mean, some people may find it a bit awkward, talking about the sex life of their two best friends… who happened to be married to one another…” he said.

”Do you?” You said, tone light and teasing, almost as if challenging him. “Find it awkward?”

“Not really,” he grinned. “Actually I’ve been dying to know what he’s got going on, y’know… with the whole dragon thing.” Wriothesley made a lewd gesture towards his crotch as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Ah ah, I asked first, your questions can come later.” You teased.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes again. “Fine, fine. The answer is yes, I’ve done almost everything under the sun with as many different kinds of people as there are out there.”

“Your Grace!” You said in a mock fluster. “How scandalous! What would the people say if they knew the Duke of Meropide was such a common whore!”

”Hey!” He laughed, taking your teasing just as intended. “Just because I’m not interested in a long term relationship doesn’t mean I need to be abstinent! Let a man enjoy the simple pleasures in life, you prude.”

You snorted, covering your mouth a bit as you tried not to laugh harder, Wriothesley’s wide grin and accusatory index finger pointing at you wasn't helping.

“What’s your, uh— preference in role when it comes to that type of sex?” You asked once you’d calmed down a bit.

He snorted again, making your laughter bubble back up and threaten to burst out once more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it's just so funny to try and see you talk about this shit.”

“Answer me!” You giggled, trying to brush him off. “I’m trying my best, here!”

He cleared his throat, attempting to take the conversation a little more seriously. “I’ve done both, and I favor neither one nor the other. It all depends on the partner, really.”

Not that you’d ever really entertained the thought of what Wriothesley looked and acted like in bed, but you could very easily picture him in a more dominant role, taking charge and leading the experience with a well practiced hand.

But picturing him in a more submissive role? Being the receiver, his broad shoulders pressed into luxurious blankets, large hands reaching up to grasp at long, silky white hair as he—

Oh. You were getting ahead of yourself.

You took the time to clear your own throat and calm your heated cheeks, trying to keep a proper posture.

“What is your opinion on people having casual sex with close friends?” You said, trying to keep your tone level and casual, as to not expose your nerves and ruin the entire conversation. If things took a sour turn, you could easily play it off as morbid curiosity.

He seemed to answer without really thinking. “I mean, I personally don’t see a problem with it, as long as everyone is consenting and, you know… chill.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous and frequent use of cryo puns. You swear he did it just to get a rise out of you sometimes.

But he suddenly paused, most likely connecting some dots, as you figured he would.

“If I didn’t know any better, I might think this illustrious personal assistant was propositioning me on behalf of the Iudex, which would never happen,” his eyes thinned, turning a bit dark, but you could see the remnants of a grin threatening their way onto his face once more. “Would it?”

“Quite preposterous in theory, for sure.” You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to meet his eyes and instead taking a delicate sip of your tea, proper and poise. “Though in practice it might not be so improbable.”

Wriothesley’s eyes glimmered as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and watching you avoid his gaze.

He made a noise of affirmation before clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Yes, yes. Well, even so, I would find it hard to believe, considering everyone in Fontaine is aware of how devoted the honorable Iudex is to his most beloved wife.”

“Yes, well.” You sat your teacup down, eyeing the rows of books he kept while willing the heat from your cheeks. “One does not live life without developing… curiosities. And perhaps his beloved wife is curious too? It’s not so obscene to imagine.”

Wriothesley tilted his head, and out of the corner of your eyes you caught him licking his lips.

“Obscene isn’t the word I’d use when imagining it, that’s for sure.”

———————

“Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“You know you can say the word at any time and this doesn’t have to continue,” You add.

“Exactly.” Wriothesley agreed. “I’m here to do what you want, there’s no expectations. I won’t be upset or offended, literally anything that happens tonight will not affect our relationship whatsoever.”

Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you watched Neuvillette look between the two of you.

Sitting down in the living room with Wriothesley and your husband was a common occurrence, many nights of cards and drinks and laughs were shared here. But tonight was very different, the air seemed electro-charged and the fire crackling in its stone fireplace was only adding more distracting noise to the sound of your heart beat thrumming through your eardrums. Could Neuvillette hear it so loudly too?

Neuvillettes eyes still danced between the two of you, and his brow raised slightly as if in disbelief.

“You are both aware that I was the one who initially proposed this idea, correct?” He asked, slow and steady as if to make sure the words really resonated. “It would be rather foolish of me to ask something like this of the two of you, only to change my mind at the last second. Unless… you both are having second thoughts on the matter?”

Both you and Wriothesley tried to express your refusal of such an accusation at the same time, making the two of you chuckle at each other with your eagerness.

“It’s not us, it’s just…” Wriothesley paused, making a circling gesture with his spread hands, as if he was trying to gather the thoughts he couldn’t quite conjure.

“My love, you have a tendency to be a bit…” you started, looking for the right phrase to not offend him too terribly much.

“Sometimes you can come across a little…” Wriothesley looked at you, cringing a bit as he hoped you would finish as if to soften the blow.

You sighed, deciding to just come right out and say it.

”Possessive.” You said. “You can be quite possessive.”

Neuvillette only nodded, seemingly unaffected.

“It is true that I can be rather possessive of my wife, as is in a dragon's nature to protect their mate, to guard their treasures carefully.” He looked to you. “Though I don’t see how that would be a problem in this situation?”

”My darling, you growled at that tea seller from Liyue when he tried to offer me a discount.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I did not enjoy the way his eyes were roaming all over your body, as if you were some kind of confectionary treat to drool over.”

“You’ve almost broken my hand just for touching her arm.” Wriothesley deadpans.

“Unrelated.” Neuvillette huffs. “I was experiencing a fluctuation in elemental energy when the full power of the hydro sovereign was returned to its rightful owner. Any irresponsible choices I might have made during that time can be written off as flukes, one time mistakes, nothing more.”

“Any irresponsible choices like, for example, courting your personal assistant without the knowledge that she was aware that was what you were doing?” Wriothesley stood from his chair, rounding the little end table that held your books to stand behind the armchair you were perched on, facing Neuvillette on the couch.

You could see the tips of your husbands ears glow red in the firelight, and you suppressed the urge to giggle when he clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Nonsense.” He looked at you, and his eyes softened. “The decision to court you may not have been a very well thought out one, but it was a decision I will stand by for the rest of my existence.”

You flushed. He always found a way to make your heart flutter. You were so in love with this man— dragon— you were in love with your husband, and it seemed his devotion to you was an endless pool as well.

“Well, if it's unrelated, you should have no problem with me touching her again now, hmm?” Wriothesley said behind you, and you froze a bit in shock. You didn’t think he would start this so soon, but better to get going naturally, yes? Surely if you tried to talk about it forever, it would never happen.

His large, still wrapped up hands slid down your arms, fingertips dragging along your exposed skin until he was bent over the back of the chair, nuzzling into the side of your neck. His index fingers smoothed over the insides of your wrists as he breathed in your scent, a soothing gesture surely— but it only served to rile you up even more.

You looked up at Neuvillette and involuntarily whimpered at how strained he looked. His eyes were dark, menacing. His gloved hands were gripping the edge of the couch, straining the fabric as if it was seconds away from tearing and exposing the cushion. He looked like he was about to pounce, a murderous glare trained on where Wriothesley was touching you, breathing you in.

“You smell so sweet tonight, is that a new perfume?” Wriothesley whispered, making sure his breath ghosted over your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Yes,” you squeaked, still watching Neuvillette watch you.

“Just for me?” You caught him flashing that cheeky grin in your peripherals. “You shouldn’t have.”

His hands smoothed up and down your forearms, his lips barely ghosting along your throat, the tease of it all making you breathless.

“You seem far too comfortable doing such things with your best friend, Your Grace.” Neuvillettes' tone was dark, his voice was steady and smooth like usual, but there was an underlying madness creeping around the edges of his words that set your skin on fire. “Should I be concerned?”

Wriothesley pressed his smile against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, not quite a kiss but it ripped a growl from Neuvillette’s chest all the same.

“It’s fun to play pretend sometimes, isn’t it?” The Duke whispered your name softly in your ear, and you could see his eyes dip up to finally look at Neuvillette. “We can play pretend for a little while… can’t we, doll?”

You met Neuvillettes gaze. He was livid, yes. But there was a flush on his cheekbones that wasn’t there before— a heaviness to his breath that didn’t seem to come from his anger. You nodded to Wriothesley.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet and he looks like he’s about to burst.” Wriothesley chuckled, low and breathy in your ear, but loud enough that you were sure your husband could hear. “Tell your puppy to heel, hmm? I’m just trying to get the fun started.”

Your thighs clenched together, heat pooling to your core in droves as you watched Neuvillette, all while receiving Wriothesley’s gentle and teasing ministrations.

“Neuvillette—“ you gasped as Wriothesley moved his hands to your thighs, blowing cool air in your ear. “Are you… still okay?”

Wriothesley’s warm palms gripped onto the plush of your thighs, making your legs spread almost on their own, a natural response to the kind of feelings stirring inside you, but it still made you squirm knowing it wasn’t your husband who brought such a response from you.

Neuvillette still hadn’t responded, but you figured he would voice his concerns if he truly had any. He looked as though he was fighting against all instincts, but from a quick peek to the crotch of his pants—you could tell he was just as excited as you were.

Your hips bucked up and arms tensed as Wriothesley kissed you gently on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your thinly strapped top giving him easy access to plenty of skin.

“So responsive…” Wriothesley groaned. “Aren’t you just a little treat for me.”

You bit your bottom lip as his kiss turned wet, his tongue dragging across your skin with each press of his lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you whined when he nibbled on your jawline, making your hands grip the arms of the chair even tighter as his hands continued their leisurely strokes on the tops of your thighs, fingertips only slightly teasing the fabric covering the inner flesh here and there.

“Such pretty little noises too,” Wriothesley said, bringing his fingertips further into the flesh of your inner thighs on the next stroke of his hands, watching the way Neuvillette lurched at the sound of your whimpers. “Does she make such pretty noises for you too, Iudex?”

Neuvillettes voice was chipped at the edges, wavering and dark, anger and lust and all other conflicting emotions swirling in the syllables as he growled out into the firelight flickering along the dark walls.

“My touch commands sounds more beautiful than you will ever pull from her, I can assure you that.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Monsieur.” Wriothesley was pushing it, he really was. You were honestly shocked at how well Neuvillette was handling himself thus far, but there had to be a breaking point.

The Duke of Meropide looked your Husband dead in the eyes (you only knew he did because you watched as Neuvillette met his gaze, his pupils thinning into tiny slivers,) and dragged his fingertips up your thighs, bringing his left and to press his middle and ring fingers deeply along the seam of your pants— the seam directly covering your aching core.

Your cunt throbbed at the attention and you cried out, a little startled but mostly just overwhelmed at such a heavy and sensual touch after all the light teasing.

As quickly as the touch was there it was ripped away, your body jolting back in shock as Neuvillette was suddenly upright, bolting across the few feet between the chair and couch to push Wriothesley away from you, making the Duke stumble backwards a few steps.

If he pressed him back where he stood, his back would surely collide with the bookshelves behind him, and somewhere in his instinct driven lizard brain he must have realized that, so he grabbed Wriothesley by the lapels on his vest and hauled him against the wall perpendicular to the shelves, which happened to line up quite nicely with your field of view as you turned around in the chair.

You sat on your knees and gripped the edge of the chair back as you watched them. Their profiles illuminated by the stone fireplace, the breaths in their chests heaving as they looked at each other.

Wriothesley was no small man, but he seemed so tiny as Neuvillette loomed over him, his eyes blazing down and piercing into the Duke.

“Your impudence knows no bounds, does it, little boy?” Neuvillette growled.

Oh.

Oh, did that ever do something for you.

Wriothesley cheekily grinned under his murderous glare, looking up at him without a care in the world— like one of the most powerful beings in Teyvat wasn’t pressing him up against a wall, looking like he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Or maybe that's exactly why he looked so happy. Wriothesley used to be a bit of an adrenaline junky, didn’t he? Nothing crazy, just jumping into the water from high cliffs, picking fights with bullies much bigger than him, that sort of thing. You figured that spark must’ve died down since his sentencing to the Fortress, but it looks like it was still alive and well, glimmering up at your husband.

“Oh,” Wriothesley breathed, shifting his knee up in between Neuvillettes thighs. “I know plenty of ways to disrespect the honorable Iudex, if he’d like me to show him.”

Neuvillette let loose a sound halfway between a growl and a moan as Wriothesley pressed his thigh into Neuvillette a little harder, grinding against what was surely an aching erection.

“Or would he rather disrespect me?” Wriothesley’s breath was heaving in his chest as he pulled Neuvillettes hands from his lapel to his throat, steadying his grip there as he moved closer, pressing further. You watched as his gaze flickered from Neuvillettes eyes to his lips, before that sinful tongue came out and absentmindedly swiped across his own bottom lip.

And that was all it took.

Neuvillette crashed into him in a flurry of teeth and tongues as he devoured Wriothesley, pinning him further against the wall with his slender hands cupping around his throat.

You gaped as Neuvillette managed to slip a knee between Wriothesley’s legs now, and you nearly moaned he ground his hips against the duke, the tents in their pants pressing against each other's hips. Every few strokes they would bump into each other until Neuvillette must have decided that he preferred when they did, because he shifted until they were pressing against each other's cocks with every grind of their hips, making Wriothesley whimper out a pitiful sound that had you feeling your heartbeat pounding between your legs.

The Duke managed to pull his arms up and over Neuvillettes shoulders, wrapping his hands around the back of your husbands neck, pulling him closer as they devoured one another.

Their breaths were heavy, the grinding of their hips making you squeeze your thighs together as you watched them. You had half a mind to think that maybe you were a bit perverted for enjoying this so much, but the other half was too enraptured by the sight in front of you and the wetness pooling in your underthings to worry too much about it.

“You kiss—“ Wriothesley breathed between kisses, “—like it's a conquest.”

Neuvillette growled, pressing himself closer, squeezing the sides of Wriothesley’s throat in warning. “Only when I have a partner so desperate to be conquered.”

Neuvillette moved his hands in favor of sucking and nibbling along the exposed skin of Wriothesley’s jawline and throat, nibbling between the black wrappings and making the Duke’s knees shudder while he moaned.

His eyes caught yours where you sat and a grin pushed its way onto his heated face.

“Look at your little wife, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette turned his head, and his pupils dilated in the firelight as he caught you so shamelessly staring, face flushed and thighs surely squeezing together.

“Bedroom.” He said, voice leveling out but having no less of its ever commanding tone.

“Bedroom.” You squeaked, nodding as you nearly fell off the chair.

—————————

“I never imagined that Madame Neuvillette would be so shameless…” Wriothesley breathed in your ear as you squirmed in his lap, head lolling back onto your husband's shoulder as the Iudex sucked along your throat from where he sat behind you.

Your clothes were long tossed off, and you pulled at Wriothesley’s tie and hand wrappings, desperate to expose more of his skin. Wriothesley chuckled and moved to take it all off, his coat and vest long since discarded into the darkened corners of your bedroom.

Satisfied with Wriothesley following your needy directions, you reached over your own shoulders to pull at your husband's shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin pressing against your own.

“My love…” you whined. “More, more— I wanna feel you.”

Neuvillette brought his fingertips to your mouth, and you whined as you pinched the tip of his glove in between your teeth, holding on as he slipped his hand from the offending fabric. He brought his other hand up to do the same, and you watched as Wriothesley’s pupils blew wide at the movement.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you dropped the gloves in your lap, looking at Wriothesley with a face that was surely more lewd than he’d ever seen on you before.

Finally, his upper body was bare, and your hands roamed the wide expanse of his scarred skin.

“Kiss me?” You asked, looking at him through your lashes.

“What kinda question is that?” Wriothesley grinned as he leaned up to capture your lips. He tasted like tea, and a vague hint of your husband's lips from their earlier tryst downstairs.

You moaned as the duke's hands caressed your waist and cupped your breasts, his hips rocking up into you as your tongues danced together, messy and uncoordinated but so enjoyable.

Wriothesley pulled back and his eyes flickered behind you before a pained expression washed over his face.

“Damn it. Fuck. That’s so fuckin’ unfair.” The duke whined.

You looked back to see your husband shirtless, finally. You knew exactly what Wriothesley was whining about too.

Neuvillette was always beautiful, but all his finery and fabrics hid just how stunning he actually was.

His pale skin was flawless, glowing in the moonlight streaming in your bedroom window. His shoulders were broad, arms sculpted and showcasing the odd blue veins here and there. His abdominals were strong and lean, his trim waist dipped into his hips with a perfect v cut that drew your eyes directly towards the light speckling of hair that trailed below his navel. He had the body of a strong swimmer, he had the body of a being so beautiful not even the gods could compare.

He was stunning, he never failed to take your breath away even after years of the privilege of seeing him this way.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you pouted as you looked at him over your shoulder.

Neuvillettes long silky hair fell over his shoulder as he leaned in to crowd you against Wriothesley, his bare hands tipped in the faintest pale blue— the element he commanded pulsing through him too powerful to stay hidden away— running along Wriothesley’s sides to paw greedily at his chest, his arms caging you in and forcing you deeper into the dukes lap.

“You both act as if your forms do not beget a reaction so feral and obscene that it makes ones insides shudder in anticipation.” Neuvillette growled, his fingers trailing through the dark hairs coating Wriothesley’s chest.

Wriothesley groaned as you reached down to join your husband's perusal of his chest. Neuvillette was right about one thing at least— as beautiful as your dragon sovereign was, Wriothesley was a different sort of attractive altogether.

Wriothesley was thick. All broad shoulders and corded muscle, large arms that looked like they could pick you up and toss you across a room without issue. His waist didn’t cut in as narrow as Neuvillettes, his abdominals less defined, but you could still see the strength in him tense as you ran your hands across his body. Scarred, marked by his past tribulations and coated in a speckling of hair that just screamed that rugged sort of sexy that made your mouth water.

“Fuck,” the duke said, tossing his head back as Neuvillette ran his nails from chest to navel. “Is he always so quick with the flowery dirty talk?”

You smiled, squirming down on his lap, surely making a mess of the front of his pants. “You act like it didn’t make your cock jump.”

You bit your lip and moaned as Wriothesley grinned and bucked his hips up against your cunt as punishment.

Neuvillette leaned closer, his head dipping above your shoulder to mouth at Wriothesley’s jawline as you were squeezed between them, helpless and turned on with the Duke's erection pressing at your core and your husbands twitching against your ass.

“Your insistence on tormenting my wife will not go unchecked, Your Grace.” Neuvillette whispered as his hands pawed at the Duke's chest once more.

You could hear Wriothesley’s breath hitch as you squirmed further into his lap, and you felt your husband grab and squeeze at him while dragging nibbling kisses along his throat and jawline.

“You’re so fucking good, Neuvillette, shit—“ Wriothesley moaned, stumbling over his words a bit. “Damnit— I want to fuck you so badly.”

Everything seemed to still for a moment. Neuvillette leaned back, letting you look at Wriothesley’s flushed face and heaving chest. His cock was straining against his pants beneath you, you could feel it twitching as he looked up at both of you.

“Do you really?” Neuvillette asked.

“Wha— what?” Wriothesley breathed.

“Do you want to fuck him?” You said, sounding equally as breathless.

Wriothesley seemed confused for a moment, before his eyes darted between the two of you, his face still tinged pink.

“With the way things were going… I figured he’d be the one to— but if you—“

“Do you want to fuck Neuvillette, Wriothesley?” You asked, lowering your tone into something more sultry as you looked at him through heavy lashes.

“Fuck—“ he groaned, his eyes rolling back a bit. “Fuck yes. Yes— you have no idea.”

You both slid off of him, and Neuvillette grabbed at his thighs to pull his legs to the edge of the bed. You sat beside the Duke, watching intently as your husband lowered himself to the ground between Wriothesleys knees.

Wriothesley sat up, looking at the Iudex on his knees in front of him, and his face suddenly turned a whole new shade of red.

“You don’t have to— I mean, I said I was—“

“I want to try. Let me try it?” Neuvillettes' tone was a lot softer now that Wriothesleys hands weren’t actively on you, and you knew that would be the case.

Wriothesley propped himself up with his hands behind him. “Fuck, yes. Yes— okay.”

You leaned over to help Neuvillette undo Wriothesley pants, wanting an up close look at the way his face would change when he saw Wriothesley’s cock. And he did not disappoint you.

His eyes widened and pupils dilated as Wriothesley’s cock burst from its confines, the weight of it making it droop a bit to the side instead of smacking against his stomach. You felt your own mouth water at the sight of it. He was long and obscenely thick, you think he was perhaps even thicker than your husband, and you could see the way Neuvillettes gaze took it in, watching the gears turn in his mind as he realized he was going to try and fit this thing inside him.

A taste of your own medicine, much? You wanted to snicker.

Neuvillettes eyes dipped over to you, a look of hesitation flickering across his features. You smiled down at him, reaching a hand to card your fingers through his hair.

“Take it slowly, darling. You know what feels good, just let yourself have fun with it, okay?” You said.

He looked to Wriothesley, who just silently nodded in agreement, hands fisting the blankets and staring in almost disbelief at Neuvillette between his legs.

Finally, finally, Neuvillette leaned in and let his hot and wet tongue lick up Wriothesley’s shaft before releasing its inhuman length out to curl lewdly around the head of it, lapping up the pre-come dripping from the tip.

Wriothesley shuddered, his eyes widening even more as a desperate sound of shock was ripped from his throat, and he pulled away, scurrying himself back up the bed.

“OH!— okay okay OHkay—“ he yelped as he scrambled back. “If we keep doing that shit I’ll be done in five seconds flat. What the fuck?”

You giggled, looking at Neuvillettes' disappointed pout as Wriothesley panted beside you.

“Yeah, I had about the same reaction the first time too— though I let him keep going.”

Wriothesley sighed. “Yeah well— I said I was going to fuck him.”

The Duke shuffled out of his pants fully, tossing them on the floor. His thick thighs flexing as he kneeled on the bed.

“Sorry, sorry. We can try that again another time.” He took a deep breath, grounding himself. “If it pleases the honorable Iudex, I’d have him lie on the bed and make himself comfortable.”

Neuvillette eyed the cock still hanging hard between Wriothesley’s thighs, but listened without complaint, laying himself down on the pillows.

“Good.” Wriothesley said, the flush in his cheeks slowly dying down to something more reasonable.

He crawled closer, kneeling in between Neuvillettes spread legs, eyeing him for signs of discomfort as he slowly reached for the buttons of his pants. Neuvillette simply relaxed his face, lifting up his hips when Wriothesley pulled at the waistband to tug them off his body.

To Wriothesley, it probably looked like Neuvillette was in calm indifference, just going with the motions, but underneath, you could see your husband brimming with nerves and anticipation, his eyes blazing with need. Your husband was just incredibly used to schooling his own emotions into a mask, he was doing so now to hide his nervousness.

As his pants and undergarments were finally pulled from him, his cock twitched, long and hard and leaking as he laid there, and you simply couldn’t help yourself. You leaned down and took the head of it into your mouth, giving him a few firm sucks just to loosen the tension in his spine.

He moaned, his hand coming to your shoulder as he squirmed. You pulled away, smirking at the flush now coating his face.

Wriothesley whistled as he took in Neuvillettes completely naked form, running his hand along a smooth milky thigh, thumbing gently where it meets his hip.

Neuvillette squirmed, his hand reaching for yours. You grasped it gently, smiling up at Wriothesley. “He’s fine, just getting all quiet because he’s nervous.” You explained when wriothesley looked to you in concern.

“Nervous?” Wriothesley chuckled. “After all that? He’s nervous now?”

“Se—“ Neuvillette stuttered. “Nervousness during sexual exploration is normal, however sharing new experiences with someone that one has no sexual experience with prior can be cause for some anxiety. I am… I am fine— eager, even.”

Wriothesley smirked affectionately, rubbing Neuvillettes thighs. “Well that's good. Is it alright if I touch you now?”

”You may.” Neuvillette breathed.

You continued to hold his hand as you sat down by his hips, eyeing the way Wriothesley squeezed his inner thighs appreciatively.

His large calloused hands spread up and cupped around Neuvillettes pelvis, his thumbs gently running along his balls, watching gleefully as the Iudex twitched under his teasing touch.

A hand finally came up to grasp his cock, starting a slow pace of languid strokes, making you both eye the precome beading at his tip as Neuvillette bit his lip and watched.

“You know, I was expecting something a little more… dragon-like down here.” Wriothesley teased, eyeing Neuvillettes cock before tracing his gaze appreciatively all over his naked body. “You’re fucking ridiculously big, and so damn flawless it’s certainly a little inhuman… but not what I was expecting.”

Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley’s hand picked up the pace, only to slow right down once more, his calloused fingers squeezing here and there as his other hand still teased the junction between his pelvis and thigh.

“This is my… least alarming form.” Neuvillette breathed, and you watched as his brow twitched. he was certainly holding back. “I thought it appropriate to keep the experience as close to… normal as possible.”

“His other form is so pretty,” you pouted, twirling your index finger around Neuvillettes pert nipple, the pink flesh pebbling from all the attention. “But he wont let me play with them… he says I’ll just end up hurting myself.”

“Them?” Wriothesley’s hand paused as he looked at you with a raised brow.

You gave him a cheeky grin, raising up two fingers as you glanced down at Neuvillettes cock. Wriothesley audibly swallowed as you gestured a measurement well over a foot with your hands and mouthed the word big with some finality in your expression.

“Your mortal body is not equipped to deal with such—“ Neuvillette was cut off by his own choked groan as Wriothesley bent down to lap at the head of his cock, blue eyes still staring up at your husband with such intensity.

“You’re telling me you have two cocks?” Wriothesley teased between strokes of his hand and tongue, watching as Neuvillette writhed on the bed. “And you’ve been holding out on our girl here?”

Neuvillette’s head snapped up, glaring at Wriothesley between his spread legs.

“Mine.” His voice was a rasping growl, eyes aflame. “Not yours.”

You watched Wriothesley shudder, his grin ever present as he simply continued the strokes and little licks around your husband's leaking cock.

“Oh fuck, that’ll never not be hot.” He murmured almost to himself as Neuvillette settled back down at your soothing touch running along his chest.

“He’s just teasing you, my love.” You whispered to him, nibbling along his pointed ear. “Everyone knows I belong to you.”

“You have to let me see them,” Wriothesley chuckled as he sat back up, pinching along Neuvillettes thighs. The sight of your husband spread wide and flushed was enough to send pulses of searing heat between your legs, and you simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Neuvillette cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with The Duke as you settled to lay down on the bed beside him, rolling on to your side to face him. You nuzzled into your husbands neck, kissing and nibbling at his skin as if it would soothe the ache in your core.

“Perhaps another time.” Neuvillette didn't sound very thrilled, in fact he sounded rather embarrassed. You remember how long it took to convince him to let you see his more dragonian features.

Wriothesley smiled at the premise of another time, another instance of this happening between the three of you. It seemed that he certainly wasn’t going to object.

“Lubricant?” The Duke asked.

“Top drawer, right side.” You mumbled from your mission of scattering purpling marks along your husband's collar bones.

You felt Wriothesley shift as you wrapped your arms around Neuvillettes neck, bringing your lips to his for a fervent kiss. He consumed you, his inhuman tongue twirling with yours and dipping deeper than usual, teasing your gag reflex and pushing little tears to form at the corners of your eyes.

Wriothesley was back, spreading the lubricant along his fingers. “I’ll start slow, okay?”

“I am not made of glass, your Grace.” Neuvillette scoffed slightly as he paused your kiss.

“Have you done this before?” He looked between the two of you.

“No, I didn't want to hurt him, I’ve never done anything like this.” You said, looking up at Wriothesley before your eyes were pulled right back to the lewd sight of Neuvillette running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Exactly. I know what I’m doing. Let me do it.”

You and your husband nodded, seemingly more interested in sucking on each other's tongues than Wriothesley’s scolding. That is, until Neuvillette paused, his eyes widening.

“There, there's one. How is it?”

A rough breath pushed from Neuvillettes nose, as he shifted, and you watched the muscles in Wriothesley’s arm flex as he pumped the digit in and out of your husband, slowly and with a careful gaze.

“It is… different.” Neuvillette finally said, letting you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Good. Please say something if you feel any pain or discomfort.” Wriothesley’s eyes were sparkling as his eyes flipped between watching the two of you and watching his finger sink in and out of Neuvillettes hole. “Think you can take another?”

“Yes.”

Wriothesley’s fingers were thick, you knew that. Watching Neuvillettes face change color as Wriothesley pressed a second finger inside made you writhe beside him.

A small noise left Neuvillette as Wriothesley started his slow pumps once more, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You rolled to your back, immediately spreading your legs and running fingers along your clit, still watching your husband try to hang on to his composure.

You whined as Neuvillette gripped the blankets beneath him, his breaths becoming heavier as his face grew more red. Wriothesley was picking up the pace, slowing every now and then with a focused expression, as if he was looking for something.

The Duke watched you as he kept going, smirking down at your shameless display.

”Awe, you both just have such greedy little holes, don’t you?” His hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you down the bed closer to him. A surprised squeak left your lips, and you watched with wide eyes as Wriothesley reached his free hand over to pet at your leaking cunt, fingertips slipping through and pressing so wonderfully.

He pressed the tip of one finger into your hole, before pulling back out and squeezing two inside you, slow and hot and so good. You keened at the stretch, your achey walls screaming at the sensation of finally being stimulated.

“There you go, ‘that what you needed, pretty girl?” he asked.

You nodded obediently, spreading your legs further as he pumped his fingers in and out of your hole, your back arching as you moaned and cried for him.

You turned to look at your husband, who was surely fuming at another man touching you so blatantly, but you were only met with a flushed and panting mess.

It seemed in your distraction, Wriothesley had added another finger, and Neuvillette was reacting sensationally to the pleasure. His voice was still held back, but you saw his eyes glazed over with lust, his little fanged teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Before you could get too distracted, Wriothesley crooked his fingers inside you, making you sob out and arch your back as he prodded at your g-spot.

To your surprise, Neuvillette cried out at the same time as you, a loud whine being ripped from his throat.

“Found it,” Wriothesley grinned.

The dam had finally cracked, though only a trickle of Neuvillettes true expressions were leaking through. He softly groaned, his eyes rolling back as his horns glowed, his hands nearly tearing holes in the sheets.

“Yeah?” You breathed, still spinning from Wriothesley’s fingers stroking inside you. “Does it feel good, my love? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Your Grace,” Neuvillette panted, tilting his head up to meet Wriothesley’s heavy gaze. “I… I need—“

“What do you need, Your Honor?” Wriothesleys hands pumped in sync now, heavy strokes of his fingers stimulating you both. His smirk was smug, his eyelids heavy and cool eyes blazing.

You could feel your core tightening, the pleasure mounting inside you.

“Wrio…” You keened.

“Fuck, who knew that you’d both be such sluts? You’re both just begging for cock, aren’t you?”

He leaned down, pressing a messy kiss to Neuvillettes lips, and you watched Wriothesley nibble on his bottom lip before pulling away from your husband completely, slipping his hands from the both of you.

“Let me get you riled up before I fuck you, hmm? You’re so hot when you’re being possessive.”

Neuvillette looked confused for a moment but the realization dawned across his face as Wriothesley moved to gather your thighs in his hands, pushing your knees back until they rested on either side of your head.

“Just need a little taste of it, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmured, running his ridiculously thick cock along your folds.

You squirmed, hands balling into tight fists in anticipation. Looking at Neuvillette, you watched as his eyes grew dark once more, and he looked as if he was going to rip Wriothesley away from you at any moment.

“The more fuss you put up, the longer I’ll fuck her— which means the more you’ll have to wait.” Wriothesley teased the head of his cock against your hole, and your back arched as if to encourage him.

Neuvillette settled back, though a deep predatory noise rumbled from his chest, and you could feel Wriothesley’s cock twitch against you.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over that.” The Duke nearly whined.

“Please,” you whimpered, your words starting to slur from the fog clouding your mind. “I wan’ it”

”Yeah? Think you can handle it?” Wriothesley added more pressure, wetting the tip of his already weeping cock, teasing you further. “You only took two fingers, you think that's enough to take this?”

”Please, please,” you bucked your hips, whining again when he pulled back. “I can take it, I can take it, I swear.”

Wriothesley chuckled, low and deep and so seductive. “If you say so…”

After a moment that felt like it dragged on for hours, Wriothesley finally pressed into you, and your eyes blew wide, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

He was thick. You were so insistent on taking him, you didn’t think about the consequences of not being adequately prepared. In a perfect world, you’d have likely taken three or even four of the Duke's lovely fingers and perhaps a couple orgasms to loosen yourself up before taking this claymore of a cock.

But oh, were you a glutton for punishment.

It stretched you so completely, not unlike the way it felt the first time your husband entered you this way, though he always seemed to prepare you more than necessary to ensure your comfort and pleasure.

“Think I can wring one out of you before I fuck your husband?” Wriothesley grinned as he bottomed out, watching your face as you tried to process how ridiculously full you felt. It was like he was in your throat, carving out a new space in your insides just for him to fit into perfectly.

Then he started moving.

Your cunt instantly fluttered around him, the position he had you pressed into forced the fat head of his cock to press against your g spot with insane precision, and the Duke slowly worked his thrusts into a rough slapping of your hips, until he was fucking you at cruel and brutal pace.

“Oh, oh!” You cried out, unable to do anything but take it, staring at the ceiling as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching as your orgasm built.

You could hear your husband's low growls, but you could also hear a secondary wet noise, prompting you to glance over in your haze of pleasure.

You keened out as you saw Neuvillette stroking himself in time with Wriothesley’s thrusts, his eyes dark and menacing but the twitch of his cock was unmistakable.

“Yeah, that's it sweetheart,” Wriothesley groaned. “Give it to me.”

And you did.

It shattered through you, the build up so quick and harsh that the tipping point had you crying out, writhing around in his hold as you came with such force it made you squeal.

“Good,” Wriothesley whispered, gently pumping his cock into you, prolonging your pleasure. “Good girl.”

You felt a cool hand reach for your thigh, your husband's possessive growling reaching closer to your ears, before Wriothesley’s hands pushed him away, his cock slipping from you rather quickly as he pinned Neuvillette to the bed beside you.

“Nuh-uh,” he chided. “Good boys wait their turn, monsieur.”

“I‘ll tear your hands from your body if you do not use them properly in the next five seconds, Wriothesley.”

“Ooh, violent.” Wriothesley smiled, pinning both of Neuvillettes hands within one of his own, bringing the free one down to run a thumb along your husband's bottom lip. “But I believe that would be a most heinous crime, Monsieur. And though I don't think you’d last a week down in the fortress, I’d make sure your time there was very, very comfortable.”

Wriothesley pressed his hips against Neuvillette, rubbing their cocks together in a lewd squelch that made you whimper and flush, realizing that it was your own arousal coating Wriothesley and making the slide of their lengths so wet and smooth.

“Let me fuck you,” Wriothesley breathed as he stared into Neuvillettes heated eyes. “Fuck, I need it.”

Neuvillette keened, his cock twitching and drooling where Wriothesley pressed against him. Though his brow was still furrowed, his hands still thrashing in the Duke's grip, he nodded, murmuring something that sounded like a breathy “please”.

Wriothesley wasted no time reaching down to thrust three fingers back into Neuvillettes hole before pulling out and lining his cock up, still dripping in your juices.

“It’ll be a lot at first, just try to relax for me.” He murmured against Neuvillettes ear, his muscular forearm tensing where it held him up.

You watched as he pressed forward, as your husband's mouth fell open, his eyes widening as he gazed up at The Duke, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him.

Your mind was in a haze, watching as Wriothesley started his slow and sensuous pace, the line of his hips driving into Neuvillette in a way that made your insides shudder.

His voice was a symphony of broken little sounds, smaller and more vulnerable than you were used to hearing, but his flushed face and bite-swollen lips looked so enticing.

“Is that good?” Wriothesley whispered as he leaned over him, pushing your husband's thighs wider, further back. “You like it?”

Neuvillette released a weak whimper, and you could see the wetness pooling behind his ethereal eyes. Even so, he gave a delicate little nod.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, beautiful.” Wriothesley groaned, his pace quickening. “Fuck, between the two of you, I’m not going to last long.”

You realized you were absently swirling your fingertips along your puffy clit, the pleasure in you from watching them too much for you to handle— you needed release.

Wriothesley’s eyes flickered between the two of you, watching you both, and you could see the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

“Gods—“ Wriothesley made the mistake of moaning out that dreaded word.

Neuvillettes legs snapped around his waist, his clawed hands gasping at his shoulders, at his back as he pulled Wriothesley closer and growled.

“No.” He rasped, fire burning in his gaze as his claws pulled at Wriothesley’s shoulder blades, making the duke shudder and cry out. “No gods. Only me.”

Your fingers stuttered as your thighs shook, your high approaching much sooner than you realized, your sensitive folds dripping and aching for it.

“Oh, fuck—“ Wriothesley groaned, leaning down to breathe into the crook of Neuvillettes neck as his hips stuttered too. “Neuvillette—“

Neuvillette did something you’ve only seen him do a few times, on occasions of high intensity and emotional wreckage during your intimate moments. It was a primal and animalistic act, a response brought on through his instincts and inner feelings, typically hidden by his proper decorum and high intellect.

He opened his mouth wide and latched his teeth possessively into the meat of Wriothesley’s trapezius muscle, deep and firm.

Wriothesley nearly screamed, his hands white knuckling the sheets as he came, gasping and pumping into your husband with a shocked and embarrassed expression, the blush on his face so extreme it trailed down to his shoulders.

Neuvillette groaned, and you watched his cock jump and spray deep splatters of white across his chest and abdomen, even up onto Wriothesley— all while still latched onto him, teeth baring down possessively into the flesh. Small rivulets of blood began pooling where his tongue wasn’t laving it up, and you shuddered and came at the sight of it all.

Your body arched, mind going blank as it hit you.

When your sight returned, all you could hear were three sets of panting breaths, three pounding hearts in the moonlight pooling in the room.

Your heart stuttered out a little bout of jealousy at the sight of Wriothesley petting your husbands silky hair as he soothed him away from his aching shoulder, watching the droplets of blood pool in the wetness left behind from his mouth.

But as Neuvillette relaxed back into the pillows, wriothesley looked up at you with a cheeky grin, wriggling his eyebrows at you, and suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by your unfiltered giggles.

Wriothesley joined you, his chuckling making Neuvillette look at you both in utter confusion. The Duke of Meropide raised his hand, and you limply sat up to meet it, clapping your hand against it in a high five both childish and out of place for the aftermath of such a heated exchange.

“That was… crazy.” Wriothesley said, pulling himself from Neuvillette and sitting back on the bed.

Your giggles calmed, and you snuggled up against your still gaping husband, who continued to look between the two of you with a flushed face and furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I was not expecting it to be like that.” You said as you ran your hands along Neuvillettes chest, soothing him.

You were expecting a bit more awkward tension— but then again, Wriothesley was your best friend. Everything felt easy with him, and even in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel light and happy, not an ounce of shame or awkwardness to speak of.

“This exchange…” Neuvillette looked between the two of you, wincing as he tried to sit up less than gracefully. “…is it a positive one? I understand that laughing has more than one meaning, I trust that this means you both enjoyed yourselves?”

You and Wriothesley looked at him, and then each other before you both burst out in another fit of giggles.

“Mmn.” Neuvillette hummed, his face now relaxed and serene. “I take it you’re staying to do our laundry, Your Grace?”

Wriothesley’s laughter sobered up in an instant. “Uh, what?”

“Well, considering that you’ve yet to clean up the mess you left between my legs, which I can feel attempting to drip onto my silk bed sheets, I assume you’re planning on washing them after you’re done relaxing?”

Neuvillette wasn't one for unnecessary messes, always rushing to clean you up after your trysts. He wasn't opposed to a mess or two, but would very promptly strip the bed afterwards to avoid staining his very expensive and very old silks.

Now it was your turn to giggle alone as Wriothesley’s eyes widened at the space between your husbands open thighs, tumbling off the bed in his haste with a grumbled “oh, shit!” As he raced to find a cloth.

“Thank you for indulging me, my love.” Neuvillette whispered against your temple as he pressed a kiss there, holding you closer.

“Do you have any more ideas?” You smirked, and he smiled finally, scrunching his nose playfully at you.

——————————————

Authors note: not my finest work, i kinda lost interest halfway through if you can’t tell. I still wanted to finish it and actually have something to post for y’all while i crawl my way out of this creative block, so visiting the old wips is a must. Anyways, let me know what you think, comments and reblogs are most important!! Love you all so much. —Rae🖤

[aly-insanity]

ᡣ𐭩 WANNA GET HIM BACK!

FEATURING: nakahara chuuya

SUMMARY: after an argument with your boyfriend and two weeks of no contact, you finally decide to make your first move by stirring up trouble at one of his bars. it can't possibly be that bad of an idea, right? you just want him back, and maybe get a little revenge while you're at it.

(wordcount: 3.6k; ņsfw; fem!reader; m!receiving oral; chuuya gets a bit violent but not with reader; jealous!chuuya; pet names "doll", "baby"; reader is a shit stirrer!!; maybe some implications of toxicity but up to interpretation. lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: eheheh

You knew the moment you stepped into the bar that you were going to be playing with fire tonight. The lights are dim and the music is low, setting a type of intimate ambience that has your head dangerously dizzy even without alcohol. It’s been weeks since you last set foot in the establishment, but all of the regulars still recognize you, giving you a wide berth and casting you suspicious looks as they whisper amongst each other. You know that by now, Chuuya would know you’re here, informed by one of his many subordinates currently keeping an eye on you from the corners of his bar—it’s only a matter of time before he finally shows up. 

Most of the patrons know better than to entertain you, so you’re forced to seek out the outsiders who are blissfully unaware of your connection to the infamous Port Mafia executive who owns the bar. Your options are limited—two men that are twice your age who seem to be foreigners, a man closer to your age but with such a twisted and uptight expression that you think you might prefer one of the older men, and another man who’s also around your age, his eyes are a bit too sharp and calculating for your liking and he’s playing with something in his pocket, but you eventually decide on him, if only because all of the other options are subpar in comparison. 

You rest your chin on your hand, elbow propped on the bar as you look up at the man through your lashes, lips curled up in a sultry smile as you listen to him drone on about his business back in Tokyo. You watch him stammer over his words every time he glances down and his eyes meet yours, unable to stop himself as his eyes dip down to trace your collarbones and then further. 

Each time his gaze dips down, you feel even more riddled with anticipation, and you'd feel sorry for the unlucky man, knowing you're just using him to piss off your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, currently, you remind yourself—but you think maybe he shouldn't be so unsubtle about being a lecher. Your thoughts drift off to Chuuya as you mildly entertain the man's conversation. It's been two weeks since the argument that led to your break up. You're not even really sure how the argument began, and you don't even remember who broke up with who, all you know is that violent words were exchanged by the both of you until Chuuya ended up storming out. You've been staying with one of your friends since then, and he has tried to get in contact with you since the argument, but it took him nearly a week to call and text you, and you think he deserves to wait just as long to hear from you as you had to wait to hear from him. And it's been a week now, and you miss him, so you think it's about time to get him back—but who are you to ever make anything easy for him?

Poor guy, you think to yourself, watching absently as he babbles on about some thing or another. For this to happen the first time he sees you in almost a month? Chuuya's temper is going to be volcanic, and the oblivious man is front of you is going to be caught right in the crossfire of it. You hate the way it lights up your nerves, you know you shouldn’t be giddy over making him mad, but you can just picture his expression already, you can feel the way his blunt nails dig into your skin. 

You see the bartender step away to pour a familiar glass of wine without request, and your smile widens just a bit, knowing that Chuuya is almost here. The man you’re talking to—you can’t even recall his name –takes your smile as a sign that you’re enjoying his company, and you keep up the charade, absently giggling at whatever he said and letting your hand fall on top of the bar, brushing his. 

You don’t even really know what he’s saying, you don’t care to know, honestly, but he doesn’t seem to notice your lack of interest—or maybe he also doesn’t care, just hoping to get a quick fuck out of the night. Your eyes keep flickering behind him to the door, waiting for the imminent arrival of Nakahara Chuuya, and you’re pleased because you don’t have to wait long before the door is opened roughly and said executive is standing in the doorframe, presence commanding the attention of almost every single person in the establishment. 

Almost. The exception being the man sitting in front of you.

Chuuya is taking a drag from a cigarette as he steps into the bar and you know that his reaction is going to be even worse than you initially thought because he only ever smokes when he’s already aggravated. Your tongue scrapes against your teeth as his eyes meet yours, dark and promising as he takes in the scene in front of him, realizing what’s going on. 

You smile distantly before returning your attention back to your dark-haired companion, catching the tail end of his sentence, “... resort in Kyoto.” 

“Oh? Kyoto? I’ve always wanted to visit—never got the chance,” you say, but it’s hard to focus on him as Chuuya purposefully sits a few seats behind him, making sure to stay in your field of vision as he watches the two of you, waiting to see how far you would take this. 

“I’ll bring you,” the man promises. 

You can’t help but notice as he shifts, his hand reaches out to try to brush your thigh. You’re able to move subtly enough for him to miss, and you hope that he takes the hint, but you withhold a grimace when he goes for a second attempt—this time you’re unable to get out of the way in time, feeling the pads of his fingers brush your outer thigh before resting firmly on your knee, sliding up just a bit.

Chuuya’s eyes zero in on where the man has made contact with you, but you only give the man another lazy smile, watching as his pupils dilate and his gaze tracks down your chest once more. 

The end of your game is approaching—the man has evidently tired of small talk and wants to take this somewhere private, and you aren’t going to take it any further, of course. But more than that, you know that Chuuya isn’t going to let this last much longer, as irritated as he already is on top of having to watch the man feel up your thigh, you can see the way his body is tense and how his gaze promises violence as it pierces into the back of your unsuspecting companion’s head.

Chuuya looks down at the bar and idly picks up a corkscrew laying on the wood where the bartender had left it next to his favorite bottle of wine. You watch curiously as he lazily twirls it around his gloved fingers, your eyes dragging along each of the lithe digits almost longingly because it’s been far too long since you’ve felt them against your skin and you miss his touch desperately. 

Your eyes widen just a bit when a familiar red aura coats the corkscrew and in a split second, it’s flying from his grasp and driving through the hand of the man, who had lifted his other hand to reach out to cup your cheek. The bar goes silent and you swallow thickly as you feel a few splatters of the warm, red liquid against your face; the man stares at his hand in abject horror, shock preventing the pain from taking hold. 

Your gaze darts back to Chuuya, who still hasn’t moved from where he’s lounging on the barstool, expression eerily empty as he tilts his head back and exhales a long stream of smoke before putting out the cigarette on the bartop and sitting up straight. That, evidently, is a signal because almost instantly one of Chuuya’s subordinates rips the man from his seat and manhandles him to his knees in front of him, ignoring his loud protests.

The man quiets down as he looks up at an unimpressed Chuuya, trying to figure out what’s going on. “What-”

“You’re lucky I didn’t take your whole hand for touching what’s mine, you fuckin’ mutt,” Chuuya says lazily, eyes dragging back up to you as if to ask: is this what you wanted? 

You forget, sometimes, that through all of the gentle touches and adoring words that Nakahara Chuuya casts your way, that he’s still a mafioso with a list of crimes so long that if the feds ever got their hands on him, he’d never see the light of day again. Heat pools in your lower stomach, lips parting; you don't know what Chuuya sees in your expression but it has the corner of his lip curling up into a slow smirk.

“What?” the man gasps, looking between you and Chuuya, fury and incredulity painted on his face. “That bitch came up to me, you can’t possibly-”

Chuuya’s eyes cut back to the man, leg shooting out so quickly that it’s nearly a blur to your eyes as the tip of his boot cracks against the underside of the man’s jaw. He would’ve gone sprawling were it not for the grip his subordinate had on him, holding him still as his head hangs and blood spills from his lips.

“What’d you just call her?” he asks, voice low and dangerous, and you think that the was your thighs instinctively press together is kind of fucked up, but how are you not supposed to be turned on by Chuuya calling you his and defending your name even when you know he’s pissed at you? “Say it again.”

He doesn’t—he can’t, actually, because you think he’s unconscious, and Chuuya clearly realizes it too because he lets out a noise that’s nothing short of disgusted as he looks up to the door and nods his head. 

Immediately, a familiar black tendril shoots out to wrap around the man’s waist and drag him out of the bar. You follow it to where Akutagawa is standing, expression stiff as ever as he turns to leave with the man. 

Well, you think to yourself, that's a painful death on your hands. 

You watch as all of the other occupants of the bar begin to funnel out after Akutagawa and dread pools in your stomach as you realize that they’re going to leave you with Chuuya. You’re half tempted to make your escape with them, but one glance at Chuuya’s face and you know if you do that, it’ll be a mistake. 

“C’mere,” Chuuya says to you as soon as the last person leaves the bar, leaving the two of you alone. His voice is deceptively soft, but his eyes are burning. You don’t move at first, so he says again: “C’mon, doll, I don’t bite.” 

You let out a breath, rising to your feet and numbly making your way over to him until you’re standing directly in front of him, between his spread legs. He doesn’t speak at first, eyes studying your face, and you can barely stand to look him in the eye but you force yourself to, no matter how fast your heart was racing in your chest. 

Chuuya’s touch is gentle as he reaches out, gloved knuckles grazing your cheek to wipe off the droplets of blood before his thumb presses against your bottom lip. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, lips parting for him—he pushes the tip of his thumb into your mouth, the earthy taste of the leather seeping onto your tongue, lashes fluttering. “You’re gonna come into my bar, to get my attention, while you drape yourself all over another man? I knew you were up to no good when I heard you were here, but this was bold even for you, baby.”

“I-” you begin, but Chuuya clicks his tongue, cutting you off and pointedly glancing down to the floor. You know what he wants, and you hate the way your body heats up as you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, eye-level with his crotch. You look up at him through your lashes. “I was just playing, you know I wasn’t gonna actually do anything-” 

“Yeah?” Chuuya asks, eyes mirthful as he looks down at you. “Why do you gotta make things so difficult for me, doll? Couldn’t have just answered my texts? Had to make a scene about it, make me lose my temper in front of my subordinates?”

You nuzzle your face into his expensive black slacks, hiding the smile that starts to tug at your lips. “I’m sorry?” you offer, not really sorry at all and he knows it.

You feel Chuuya’s gloved fingers grab your chin, tilting your face up, eyes flashing in amusement when he sees the very much unapologetic expression on your face. 

“Prove it.”

You don’t even waste a second, hands darting up to fumble with his belt. He doesn’t help you, a rare glimmer of cruelty in his bicolored eyes as he watches you struggle. He only tilts his hips up when you finally manage to undo his belt so you can yank down his pants, freeing his cock from its confines. You press your lips to his inner thigh, teeth grazing his skin, listening as Chuuya lets out a soft sigh when you lift your hand to wrap around his half-hard cock. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs when you slowly glide your hand over his cock, thumb pressing down lightly on his slit, just the way he likes it. You can feel his cock hardening in your hand, the weight familiar and comforting as you suck bruises into the pale skin of his inner thigh. “Just like that, doll.”

You hum against him, lashes fluttering when you feel his lithe fingers intertwining with your hair, blunt nails scraping your scalp. His thighs tense when you squeeze the base of his cock gently, smiling before kissing back up his thigh to press your lips to his tip. His breath hitches as your tongue darts out to swipe his slit, lapping up the beading precum.

“Missed the way you taste,” you breathe out against him, tilting your head to the side to lay messy, open mouthed kisses against his length, sucking gently at the vein on the underside of his cock. 

“Could’ve been doing this for a week.” Chuuya has the nerve to sound disappointed with you, so you make sure he can feel the way you pout against his cock. “Don’t go making that face, doll. This didn’t have to be drawn out so long, you know it.”

“I’m stubborn.” You sulk as you look up at him, but before he can respond, you make sure to finally wrap your lips firmly around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it. 

He chokes over a low groan, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You watch as his throat bobs as he tries to steady his breathing, grip on your hair tightening. You wonder if he’s going to push you down so that your lips are flush to his pelvis but he refrains. 

“Yeah, you are,” he exhales softly. “Too stubborn, baby. Love you for it, though.”

You let out a pleased hum around him, sliding your lips down the length of his cock until his tip is pushing against the back of your throat. It’s a bit uncomfortable, it takes all of your willpower to not gag around him as tears begin to pool in your eyes. 

“Been thinking about you all week.” His breathy voice grounds you as your lashes become wet and heavy, teardrops hanging off them as you swallow around him just so you can hear the way his voice falters. You force yourself to take him deeper, ignoring the burn of the stretch as your throat spasms around him. “Been dying to feel you cum on my tongue again, craving the taste of you. Tried to fuck my fist but it’s not as good as you, could barely make myself cum. You spoil me too much, doll, makin’ me dependent on you like this.” 

You brace your hands on his thighs as you push yourself up a bit more to take him at a better angle, mind a bit fuzzy as he slides down your throat all the way. Chuuya lets out a moan of your name, pitched and shaky as it always gets whenever you take him all the way, the base of his cock sensitive to the way you purposely graze your teeth against the skin. You think you could suffocate right now, and you’d die happy with the sound of him moaning like that ringing through your head—you don’t think he’d be so happy about that though, so you make sure to breathe as best as you can through your nose. 

“Called you last night, y’know,” Chuuya says, voice wavering over another moan as your lips glide up and down his cock. You suck hard on his tip, reveling in the way his hips jerk and thighs tremble. “Was tryna get myself off. Couldn’t. Just needed to hear your voice once, should’ve picked up for me.”

Oh, you think to yourself—you remember the call, you’d let it go to voicemail because you figured he’d been out drinking and you wanted him to leave you another message in your inbox. Your nails dig crescents into his thighs when you realize what you’d missed out on, picturing him laying back in his massive bed—too big and too lonely for just one person—fisting his cock with one hand and twisting the silk black sheets with his other, hair matted to his forehead, sweat beading at his skin, lips bitten raw in frustration and phone resting on his chest as he fucks his hand, praying that you pick up.

You curse yourself, wishing that you hadn’t been so damn obstinate, bobbing your head a bit faster as an apology. Chuuya lets out a sharp hiss, head falling forward so he can watch you raptly as your tongue teases his slit again before swirling around his cock. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, and his words shoot right to your core, heat spreading through you like a wildfire. “So damn beautiful, could look at you forever. Make me so fucking mad at you sometimes, but how am I supposed to stay mad when you look like this, huh?”

You let out a soft keen at the praise, and he must feel it, considering how his breath hitches and his thighs tighten again beneath your fingers. You think you can get drunk off of the taste of him, high off of the sound of his voice; you think that Nakahara Chuuya is like a drug that you’ll never be able to get clean of, and you don’t know why you tortured yourself by depriving yourself of him for an extra week.

“Y’take me so well, doll,” he continues, panting as his fingers twist in your hair and his hips jerk upward again, pushing himself impossibly deeper down your throat. Only sheer determination stops you from gagging again, fat tears rolling down your cheeks that he promptly wipes away, his touch gentle as always even when he’s nearly fucking your face. “It’s like you’re made for me, yeah? You made for me, baby?” 

You try to hum in agreement around him but you’re not sure if it translates.

It does, evidently, if the obscene moan that escapes his lips has anything to say about it. “Yeah, you are,” he agrees breathlessly. “Shit, I’m so close, just like that, keep-”

His voice cracks over another groan, lashes fluttering as a positively wrecked expression crosses over his face when you flatten your tongue along the underside of his cock, right up against the sensitive vein. His grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place, and the only warning you get is a borderline incoherent babble before his hips rock up and your nose is pressed against his pelvis. 

You can’t breathe, you can hardly think, all you can focus on is making sure you don’t choke on the cum spilling into your mouth, warm and sticky and so much of it that it’s dribbling out of the corner of your lip and over your chin. Your lungs burn so badly that you think you might die, and your head feels fuzzy and faint. 

You wonder if you’re about to pass out.

But you don’t pass out. Right when your vision begins to go spotty and you really think you’re done for, he loosens his grip so that you can pull off of him. Chuuya hardly wastes a second before he’s hauling you to your feet and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is hot and messy—you’d barely even swallowed all of his cum before he was pulling you up and you still don’t have enough air in your lungs, but his hand caresses your face so softly that you can’t even bring yourself to care. You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, lips moving slowly against one another as his tongue gently traces the inside of your mouth, tasting himself on you, but when you finally break apart from one another, your breath is nearly as shaky as your fingers, instinctively chasing after his lips to steal one last chaste kiss.

“Did I prove it?” you finally ask with a teasing smile, tongue darting out to lap up the remaining mixture of cum and saliva pooling at the corner of your lip as you look up at him through your lashes, leaning your cheek into his touch.

“Undecided,” Chuuya finally tells you, hand sliding from your cheek so he can reach out to trace his index finger on your bottom lip. You capture the gloved digit between your lips, sucking on it gently. “Guess I’ll just have to take you home so you can try again, doll.” 

[aly-insanity]

impact play with chuuya ༄

"y'r so fuckin' tight, doll," chuuya mutters through gritted teeth as he fucks into you fron behind. he has you face-down, ass-up on his absurdly large bed, and for the last three hours, the only thing on either of your minds were each other. "how many times do i gotta make you cum for you to fuckin'—loosen—up?" he says roughly, punctuating each word with a slap to your ass.

"t-too much," you gasp, tensing up even more each time chuuya's hand connects with your skin. "please, 'm trying—"

"that's not good enough, sweetheart," chuuya hums, pressing the flat of his hand into your back and forcing it to arch. "good girl, i didn't even have to tell you to do that. now c'mon, relax that pretty pussy for me, m'kay? don't make this harder than it has to be."

and you try, you really do, but apparently it's still not loose enough for chuuya's satisfaction a couple minutes later. he tuts disapprovingly and spanks you again, laughing meanly when you cry out.

"shit, d'you like this?" chuuya asks, almost condescendingly when the next sound that slips past your lips sounds strangely like a moan. "aw, how cute—y'like getting punished like this, don't ya, doll?"

"i—"

before you can respond, chuuya pushes the side of your face deeper into your pillow and cuts you off. "uh uh, only good girls get to talk. and good girls are nice n' loose for their boyfriends, so c'mon, let's try this again, yeah?"

[aly-insanity]

oh to lie sprawled out in a big evil man’s lap like a little house cat and getting my head scratched while he muses about ending the world

[aly-insanity]

AND YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.

pairing: dazai x afab!gn!reader

synopsis: the cataclysm is over. yokohama and the rest of the world is saved, and your lover is back in your arms where he belongs.

tags: nsfw!!, reunion sex, overstimulation (dazai receiving), unprotected sex, descriptions of dazai’s injuries from the jailbreak, oral (dazai receiving), brief mention of picking at skin, praise, pet names “belladonna, sweetheart, love, my darling, etc,” sigma came back too asagiri told me himself, it’s so unnecessarily soft but i’m so happy he’s alive so idc

the second your phone rings, your heart starts racing.

please, dear god, please.

“ango-“

“he’s alive. he and chuuya are on the way back now.”

the next words fall on deaf ears as you collapse to the ground on your knees, sobs wracking your body. all the stress, all the tension, all the fear in your gut comes gushing out as you wail to the ceiling of your apartment.

he’s alive. he’s alive.

in what kind of condition, you have no idea. your communication was cut off once the time-manipulating gifted was murdered at fyodor’s hands, and though the time between then and getting this call was less than a mere hour, you couldn’t help but assume the worst had come to pass.

but now, your osamu is coming home.

the wait is the longest half day you’ve ever spent in your entire life. you can hardly sit still, agitation crawling up your legs until you have no choice but to pace around the living room, into the kitchen, back through the living room, into the bedroom, back out, rinse, repeat. the skin around your cuticles is picked raw, your face cramped from furrowing your brows in impatience.

your stupor is interrupted when a message from ango comes in:

they’ll arrive in an hour. i’ll pick you up and we can go to the airport together.

you know the rest of the agency will likely be there to receive him. perhaps some members of the port mafia would go for chuuya. part of you wants to decline ango’s offer, to wait to see dazai until he’s in the threshold of your home, but before you can think you’re already lacing up your shoes and grabbing your keys.

the drive to the airport is a blur. ango makes a poor attempt at small talk, but acquiesces in favor of silence while you stare out the window.

your foot taps the floor of the sedan the entire way.

with the help of his i.d. badge, ango receives clearance to drive to the area of private gates. when you pull up and park, atsushi is already outside, along with fukuzawa, kunikida, rampo, yosano, kenji, kyouka, and the tanizaki siblings. it would figure that the entire main staff came to welcome their fellow agent home. you smile to yourself.

above you, the roar of an engine signals the plane’s descent. though it is still quite far away, the aircraft approaches rapidly, and the breeze picks up around you. the balls of your feet ache. your hands are sweaty.

are you nervous?

wiping your palms on your shirt, you watch as the plane coasts onto the runway several hundred meters away, gradually slowing down as its shape grows larger in its approach.

your mouth feels dry. your jaw is clenched. your fingers are trembling with no sign of stopping.

finally, finally, the plane slowly turns and comes to a stop at the gate. the minutes that pass feel like an eternity, each agonizing second lasting longer than the one before.

when the door of the plane finally opens, all air leaves your chest.

chuuya comes out first, speaking lowly to another person who you don’t recognize. perhaps he was another prisoner? but then you hear atsushi call out “sigma-san!” and the pieces come together.

ango sighs next to you. “i’m going to have my work cut out for me figuring out what to do with him.”

you laugh. “come on, it can’t be as difficult as decoding a heartbeat, right?”

“touché.”

your smile is interrupted at the sight of a mop of brown hair coming out of the plane. any breath you had is caught in your throat, trapping your voice.

he looks exhausted. he’s using a crutch, one of his legs splinted, and dark rusty splotches coat his clothes in what can only be dried blood.

but he’s home. he’s alive.

the agency goes to greet him first. fukuzawa guides him down the steps, and atsushi is nearly inconsolable. you can’t see clearly from where you are, but you think kunikida’s shoulders are shaking as well.

you and ango stay back while dazai greets his coworkers. from the sound of kunikida yelling “i’m not crying!” you figure that, though wounded and worn thin, your lover has enough energy to poke fun at his colleague.

then the small group parts. you have a clear view of him now. multiple pairs of eyes are on you, knowing that this is really what dazai was returning for.

heat crawls up your neck and into your cheeks as tears well in your eyes. you can’t wait any longer. your feet move before you can do anything else, and you’re running to him with blurry vision and a sob stuck in your throat.

the arm that’s not leaning on the crutch opens for you, and catches you with ease once you collide.

“oh my god, osamu!” you cry, looping your arms around his neck. he staggers back at the sudden force, but quickly catches himself.

“hey, belladonna,” he murmurs in your ear, quiet enough that no one else can hear him.

he’s here, in your arms. his torso feels even slimmer than usual, and you can closely see the bloodstains on his shoulder, but he’s here.

you hold onto him, crying into his chest until one of his bandaged hands cups the back of your head. you look up, tears streaking your cheeks, and you rush forward to kiss him. it feels like something out of a fairy tale. your prince, battered and bruised, finally in your hold after saving the day. if this were a movie, there would be sweeping violins and the audience would cheer.

but it’s quiet, save for the wind and the breaths you and dazai share. the agency, ango, chuuya, and sigma long forgotten.

dazai pulls back, thumb stroking your cheek. his coffee-colored eyes hold so much love, a look only you could pry out of him.

you give him a watery smile. “i’m so glad you’re okay.”

he returns the expression, lightly tapping your nose with a finger. “of course i am. i couldn’t keep someone as beautiful as you waiting forever, now could i?”

your cheeks warm as you hug him again, letting go far too soon to allow him to move. he walks with you, waving back at the agency members, towards ango’s car.

the two gaze at each other, their emotions indiscernible. you’re familiar with their background, how they once were close friends until betrayal tore them apart yet a deep trust remained.

ango speaks first. “dazai, i-“

“thank you.”

there’s nothing left to say. perhaps later, the two will discuss future plans and what to do moving forward, but for now their mission is done. ango nods and leads you both to the car.

“let’s get you two home.”

the ride back is quiet. you and osamu are in the back, you having enough decency to keep him from pouncing on you while ango acts as your chauffeur, instead electing to rest your head on his good shoulder and hold his hand and trace circles on his skin with your thumb.

after bidding your farewells and thank yous to ango, you and dazai finally walk through the door to your apartment. you half expect him to push you against the closed door and kiss you all over right there, but he surprises you by sitting on the couch, laying his crutch to the side and closing his eyes.

you cautiously approach him. “you okay?”

“never been better, my dear.” he smiles, his eyes still closed. “just…tired.”

that doesn’t surprise you. his battle with fyodor, evading death multiple times in the span of half an hour, plus a fourteen-hour plane ride back to japan. all with a gunshot would being tended to and a broken leg.

“should we ask dr. yosano to treat you? we shouldn’t leave your leg in the condition it’s in.”

“it’s fine,” he says, “i reset it and it’s stabilized. i’ll give her a call tomorrow.”

you don’t argue further. he’s had worse injuries, and death seems to avoid him like the plague. he’ll survive one night.

“why the distance, love?”

it occurs to you that you’re still standing in front of him. he’s peering at you with one eye open, and as much as you want to, your feet seem stuck to the floor.

“uh…”

the words are swimming aimlessly in your brain. dazai is home, after what felt like an eternity. you should be ecstatic, desperate, all over him, hands wandering under his clothes, breaths fanning over his skin. but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to move.

your lover sits up, looking at you expectantly. “darling?”

“i think…i’m scared.”

his gaze doesn’t waver. “of?”

“i don’t know,” you confess. “it’s just that…you’re here. i’m so happy you’re here. but i think- if i touch you, you might disappear.”

“you hugged me earlier,” dazai chuckles. “i’m just as real now as i was at the airport. come sit down.”

he gingerly takes your hand, and pulls you to sit next to him on the couch. you hold your hands in your lap almost stiffly, and he reaches his arm around you to guide you to his chest. he presses a kiss to your temple, lingering on your hairline. a breath you didn’t know you were harboring escapes through your nose.

your apartment is void of all sound as dazai continues pressing kisses down the side of your face. they’re feather-light, and you can feel his exhales against your cheek as he tilts your head to reach your jaw.

“i missed you,” he murmurs. “i missed you so much.”

goosebumps prickle your skin at the words. the low rumble of his voice is in stark contrast to the cheery voice he typically sports.

“osamu-“

his other hand reaches over to capture your waist and turn you to face him. it slides down your back, guiding you to hook your thigh over his lap in a straddle. his palm pushes just above your tailbone, pressing your pelvis to arch into him. his attention on your jaw doesn’t waver, and he continues to smear kisses down the column of your neck.

you slide a hand up his chest and over his shoulder, heart pounding in your ribcage as he laves his tongue over your skin. the curls at the base of his hairline slip between your fingers, and he hums against your throat. his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, trailing up and taking the fabric with him. you shiver and your exhale is shaky as you feel his touch skim up your ribcage and curl around your chest, kneading the flesh as you arch further into him.

his uninjured leg spreads to push your legs further apart, causing you to lose your balance and sink onto his lap completely. you feel the firmness in his pants, and it presses into your core. you whine at the feeling, squirming to relieve the ache. dazai nips at your neck, a warning to be patient.

the heat coursing through your body urges you to move, now. you guide dazai from your throat with a gentle hand, kissing him with all the love and adoration you can muster. you feel his fingers trembling.

gently avoiding nudging his hurt leg, you slide off of his lap and sink to your knees on the floor. dazai’s lips follow you until you’re too far to reach, but his hands rest on top of where yours lay on his thighs.

“sweetheart, you don’t have to. i was going-“

“i missed you too, ‘samu,” you whisper, honey in your voice. “may i show you how much?”

the smile he gives you cannot be described. all he does is squeeze your hand.

“of course, my love.”

your hands trail up to find the waistband of his pants. you feel the unbandaged skin of his abdomen, the pronunciation of his hip bones. the fabric catches under your knuckles as you pull his pants and boxer briefs down, allowing his hardened cock to stand in front of you.

the tip is already flushed. your hand wraps around the base as you nudge the end against your lips. slowly, your tongue trails up his shaft, curling over the tip and collecting the precum that’s began leaking out in beads.

you’re rewarded with a heavy, shaking breath. dazai’s hands claw at the back of your head, inviting you to take him into your mouth. as much as you want to, you refrain, continuing to stroke him and drag your lips ever so lightly over him. saliva pools around your molars, and you let it trickle out of your mouth and onto his tip. he jumps slightly at the sensation, sucking in a breath.

“darling, please-“ he groans.

“promise me something.” you murmur, lips forming the words over the end of his dick.

“anything.”

“promise me,” you pull back and stare him in the eye, “you won’t scare me like that again.”

a thumb pushes against your bottom lip, wiping the mixture of spit and precum off.

“of course.”

his vow is rewarded when you take as much of him as you can into your mouth. his hips jerk at the feeling of your tongue tracing the length of him. your cheeks hollow and you suck on him, cruse noises filling the room. spit bubbles at the cornes of your mouth as you bob your head up and down, working any bare length with your hand.

your dazai, normally so composed, is struggling to hold it together. this isn’t the first time you’ve had him like this by any means, but something about the care you’re putting into sucking him off causes sweat to bead around his hairline.

a breathy whine comes from his chest, and he holds your jaw with one hand in a feeble attempt to ground himself. you peer up at him through your eyelashes, smiling to yourself at his choked breaths and flushed cheeks. it spurs you to take more of him in, gagging yourself on his tip.

“god, baby, ahh…” he groans, both hands now cupping your jaw, thumbs stroking over the hollows of your cheeks.

his thighs are tensed under your palms, and you know he’s close. you maintain your pace, letting your spit dribble out of your mouth and down his shaft, into the creases of your hand and lessening the friction as you stroke him.

his cock twitches in your throat, and you press your tongue under the divot of his head and suckle. his chest concaves, and the tendon in his inner thigh flexes as warmth fills your mouth. his cum floods your molars, and you swallow as much as you can, gagging around him as he finishes.

you keep stroking him and nursing on his tip until he’s shivering from overstimulation and gently pulling your head away from him. you gaze at him with hazy, bleary eyes, cum still dribbling out of your mouth.

dazai wipes the liquid from your chin, then leans down to kiss between your brows.

“you’re incredible,” he purrs. “so good for me, you sweet thing.”

he guides you back up to his lap, pulling your pants and underwear over the curve of your ass as you come up.

“let me look at you, darling.” he murmurs. you spread your legs open, and his gaze falls to your pussy, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart and look at the glistening wetness that coats and drips from the area. “just as perfect as i remember. may i?”

you nod meekly, and he guides your hips to align himself with your opening. his hand on the small of your back pushes you further, and his cock splits you open.

before your whines can escape your lips, he captures them in a kiss. his mouth is filled with your voice as you sink down, fully enveloping him.

his free hand trails up your back again, the mix of skin and cotton causing goosebumps to raise, and you clench around him.

dazai pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until it snaps from the tension. “i hate to ask you, love, but i can’t move much.” he lifts his leg slightly.

“that’s okay,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again. “i can do it.”

you lift your hips, then slowly lower them again. up, down. up, down. the pace is set, albeit rather slow, and dazai’s breaths get shaky. you remember that he’s already cum once, and as smart as he is, he’s not as gifted in terms of stamina. you know you should make this quick, but his sounds and the twitching of his muscles under you are so tempting.

as you continue riding him, your thighs start to burn, so you elect to rock yourself back and forth on him rather than up and down. his cock is completely hard again thanks to the sound of your whines, and it prods at the sweet spot with every movement of your hips.

the heat starts in your belly. it flares with every thrust, spreading through your pelvis and crawling through your legs. your calves flex and your toes curl, and the slapping of wet skin fills your senses.

froth gathers around the base of his cock, strings of your wetness foaming between you and your lover. your arousal has long since dribbled onto dazai’s lap, coating his skin with you. one of his hands finds your hips, helping you in your ministrations, while the other guides your jaw to him so he can suck on the delicate skin.

“‘samu, i’m close, i’m getting-“

“shhh, sweetheart,” he whispers. “you’re being so good…” his thumb catches on your clit, and he presses down, rubbing quick circles. the finger is quickly covered in your slick, allowing him to move faster. your legs begin to shake, and you writhe on top of him. whimpers keen from your throat, and you desperately grind yourself on his hand, chasing your impending orgasm. you lean down, panting against his neck, heat pumping through your veins. dazai’s circles continue until the ache becomes too much to contain and bursts, and you fall limp on his lap with a shaky sigh.

the resounding pulse around his cock draws a second load from him, and he quickly follows behind you. you both collapse against the couch, and he brings you into another desperate kiss, heaving breaths mixing together.

as the air stills and your bodies cool off, dazai continues leaving kisses around the perimeter of your face. though the affection isn’t uncommon, he so rarely takes his time with you like this that your heart can’t help but flutter.

“i mean it, belladonna,” dazai whispers against your cheekbone, and he shifts his hips to gently pull out of you. “i missed you. more than you can imagine.”

you hold his face, bringing him to look at you. “are you sure it’s not because you were staring at fyodor for too long?”

he chuckles, rubbing his nose against yours. “who knows? although, if you attempted to drown me, i wouldn’t have minded.”

“i would never.”

his pout is almost enough to make you laugh. “why not? you could come with me, you know!”

“i’m not letting you slip away that easily,” you whisper, your voice suddenly becoming serious. “not again. now, come on. let’s get cleaned up.”

the petulant whine he lets out is more than enough to pull him up. he tucks himself back into his pants with a grumble, which is shortlived when you kiss him on the cheek and pull his shirt off of him.

“going again already?” dazai smiles. “i’m touched that you still find me irresistible, but i’m spent!”

“your shirt still has blood on it, genius.” you give him a grin, then take his wrist and drag him to the bathroom. “and you reek. get in the shower.”

“only if you join me!” he twirls you into his arms. “you said you’re not leaving me, so you have no choice!”

idk what came over me but welcome home dazai ive got dinner on the stove and fresh sheets on the bed

[aly-insanity]

SUNNY SIDE UP

about dazai doesn’t like waking up, especially when he wakes up alone; he finds his own way to convince you to come back to bed.

ft. dazai + f!reader, unprotected sex in the bathroom, mirror sex (kinda), ur both sleepy & soft…mdni !!

every morning, you wake to the sweetest alarm: fingertips dancing up your back, soft lips kissing against your face, and the sweet sound of dazai whispering your name. today, your eyes open all on their own, and instead, you’re met with calm breathing against your neck, soft bangs pressed against your jaw, and the pretty sight of dazai’s lashes resting on his cheeks.

something pleasant flutters inside you as you watch him rest. you trace a finger across the straight edge of his eyebrow, down the slope of his nose, before your fingers ghost over his lips, watching them twitch. dazai always clings to you, but in his sleep he lets you go with no struggle at all; his arm slides off your waist, landing gently onto the sheets. you pull your comforter over his shoulders, pressing a parting kiss to his forehead.

you sneak into the bathroom as quietly as you can. your sleepy eyes are heavy, open just enough for you to smile at the sight of two toothbrushes on the counter before they close against the bright light. there are little pieces of dazai all around your apartment; his shirt tossed on your floor, an extra roll of bandages in your cabinet, a bottle of his favorite cheap sake in your kitchen. you carved out a space for him in your daily routine, and he fit inside of it perfectly.

the mint of your toothpaste settles against your tongue as you lazily brush your teeth, eyes fluttering open when soft hands sneak beneath your shirt. it never took long for dazai to seek you out, always gravitating towards you by some invisible force.

“why’d you leave me?” he whines, nuzzling his face into your hair as he pulls you into his chest. “don’t you know how cold i get without you to keep me warm?”

you uncap your cleanser, rubbing it into a lather as he presses open mouthed kisses where your sleep shirt hangs down and exposes your shoulder. you turn in his hold, feeling the soap slide down your wrists as he looks at you brightly, hands tightening on your waist, ready to pull you back to bed in victory before you boop him with your foamy hands.

he blinks at you, bubbles dripping down the tip of his nose. he swipes at them with his thumb before his lips curl wickedly, and without warning, he strikes; he grabs your jaw, pulling you into his reach and kissing every inch of your face until you’re giggling and squirming against the hard edge of the counter. you quiet when his mouth meets your own, his teeth grazing the fragile skin of your bottom lip. 

“come back to bed,” the words vibrate against your mouth, punctuated with another kiss as he rubs his nose against yours. “pretty please?”

it’s tempting; the way his eyes sparkle in the bathroom light, and his morning voice, deep and soft, caresses your ears like velvet. his warm hands stroke soothingly against your skin like he’s trying to get you to melt between his fingers. it was almost enough to make you consider going back. almost.

“you know we have work today,” you say instead, turning around in his hold as you rub the cleanser in circles on your face. he settles his arms around your waist once more, cheek falling to the top of your head with a sigh.

he refuses to detach from you for even a second, grip only tightening when you bend down and rinse the bubbles off your face, pressing back into his hips.

nestled against him, the indulgent part of youーthe one dazai has effortlessly charmed and wrapped around his fingerーcan’t help but regret getting out of bed. you rub your moisturizer into your cheeks as he noses behind your ear, warm breath a welcome contrast to the early morning chill that settled over your apartment.

he tucks your hair over your shoulder, pressing his lips against your nape with a tenderness he only allowed you. you shiver in his hold, grabbing onto one of his bandaged arms as it inches up your shirt. his fingers trail along your ribcage before he’s squeezing your breast, his other hand slipping beneath the elastic of your underwear.

“is this okay?” he mumbles, and you catch his sultry gaze in the reflection of the mirror as he trails to the spot below your ear, mouthing at your skin. his touch is warm against your chest, even through the soft cotton of his bandages.

you hum a quiet mhm as you grip the edge of the counter, unsurprised to feel his hardening cock straining through his underwear when you arch backward. you feel his exhale, so forceful his breath grazes the warm skin of your cheek when you grind against him.

your nipples poke through your shirt from his attention, and he pinches one between his pointer and thumb, the others digging into the soft skin of your breast. he locates your clit expertly with his other hand, circling it with just enough pressure to have you writhing before he strokes down to dip shallowly into your hole. you push back into his hand as he teases you, prodding two fingers into your warm cunt.

your lips part, breathing growing uneven as you press back against him impatiently. he kisses where he can reach, slipping through your folds before he circles back to your clit. you arch backward, pushing your chest into his hand before he pulls his hand away completely.

“dazai,” you whine, eyebrows furrowed when you feel his grin against your neck, the hum he lets out vibrating against your skin. “please.”

“please? i’m not sure i know what you mean, bella.”

he slides your underwear down your hips until they fall to your feet, and his cock presses against your bare ass as he pulls his own off. your fingers grip at nothing in particular on the counter as he drags himself through your folds. you almost want to whine and kick your feet in childish agitation, but you tilt your head back to pout up at him instead. he smiles down at you, kissing your head innocently.

“dazai,” it breaks off into a moan as he presses hard against your clit, breathily giggling against your ear. “i need you.”

“but i’m right here, aren’t i?” he coats his fingers in your arousal before he pushes two inside you, scissoring them gently. “you’re going to have to use your words if you want something more.”

“osamu,” his breath catches at the sound of his name, so breathy and desperate and needy. you don’t get the chance to be satisfied that you caught him off guard before you’re keening as he bends his fingers enough to graze that sweet spot inside you, your knees growing weak. “i need you to fuck me. now, please.”

he squeezes your ass in a silent command for you to spread your legs, and you do, nudging against him as you arch backwards. he keeps one hand on your hip, the other bunching the back of your shirt as he drags his cock across your folds.

you sigh when he finally, finally pushes inside of you; he fits so perfectly that you could swear he was made for you, and you knew he shared your sentiment. stuffed to the brim with his cock, flush against him, and caged against the counter, your sleep-addled mind clouds over. you’re only grounded by his thumb, rubbing small circles against your hips before you press backwards, and he starts to fuck you properly. he keeps a steady pace, and the rhythm lulls your eyes closed. you raise you onto your tiptoes each time he thrusts inside of you, moans embarrassingly loud as they ricochet off your hollow bathroom walls.

when you peek your eyes open, you’re met with the sight of yourself in the mirror, and you hear him groan when you clench at the view: the glow of your skin, dewy from your moisturizer and flushed from arousal, your lips plump and parted, and your shirt taut and lifted from how he has you pinned to the counter.

his hair covers his eyes, but when you moan his name, he lifts his head and meets your gaze. your stomach flips; even in the reflection of your mirror, you can see the warmth his brown eyes radiate and you’re certain if you looked close enough, he’d have little hearts floating where his pupils should be, like marshmallows in hot chocolate.

he pulls you upwards until you’re flush against his chest. you reach up and grip his hair between your fingers, his own tightening against your bare skin. even your teeth sinking into your bottom lip do little to muffle you, but he’s quick to pull it away anyway, eager to hear the way you cry out as his hand settles against your jaw.

“look at how beautiful you are,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the fluttering pulse point on your neck as you tilt your head into his palm to give him better access. his movements stutter when you pull at his hair harder. “my gorgeous girl.”

he turns your head until he can press his lips to yours, hand on your hip guiding you with a gentle urgency to face him. he lifts you onto the counter, surface cool against your feverish skin. your underwear falls off your ankles and lamely onto the floor as your leg hoists upward, soft skin of your thigh squished in his grip. his eyes fall to your face immediately, taking in all of your pretty features as you’re on the edge of release, all because of him.

even without your instinctive need to cling to him, you don’t think you have it in you to steady yourself on the counter, mind foggy and body still limp with lingering sleepiness as he fucks you deep. his thrusts rock you back and forth, but you know he’d never let you fall. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your whines against his shoulder.

he has your body memorized from the inside out, your sweet spots long since burned into his brain, and he hits the most important one hard and quick, enough for the air to be stolen from you. your entire body tenses, and with his warm thumb circling your clit, you don’t stand a chance before every inch of your body floods with warmth, trembling as your muscles spasm with pleasure.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, fluttering closed when you feel him press languid kisses to your jaw. he meets you halfway when you tilt forward for more of him, whispering something you can’t hear as you cum. his lips trail to the corner of your mouth as you pant, scratching your nails against his scalp.

his voice grows in pitch, vibrating against your skin the closer he gets. you press a kiss to his ear, tugging at his hair in the way you know will make him moan, and he does, voice beautiful and broken. his thrusts grow frantic, trying to nestle as deep as possible inside of you before he finally cums. his grip is hard enough to leave an imprint of his fingertips in your skin as he pulls you as close as he can and pumps you full. your toes curl in delight, ankles hooked and firm from where the heels of your feet press into his lower back. you feel more than hear the heaviness of his gasps, but he still presses his parted lips to yours, tongue licking at your lips before he pushes into your mouth.

he kisses you until you're dizzy, and you forget you’re still in the bathroom until you open your eyes. there’s a string of saliva connecting you to him when you pull away, and he breaks it as he licks his lips.

his eyes fall to your tender cunt as he pulls out of you with a blissful sigh. he makes up for the lost contact just as quickly, hand firm against your back to pull you to his chest. you sleepily sag against him, pressing your forehead against his bandaged neck as your eyes close.

“are you ready to go back to bed?” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling, a little mockingly, you’re sure, and you nod against his shoulder, hoping you remember to flick his forehead later on. he slides you off the counter gently, enough for him to hoist you by your legs as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

he carries you carefully, each footstep gentle against the wooden floor. you yelp when he practically throws you onto your bed, back bouncing on the mattress as you settle on the abandoned sheets. he makes himself comfortable between your legs, his chin falling to rest on your sternum as you pout at him.

“your hair’s all knotty,” you barely get the words out, combing through it with gentle, lazy fingers. he nuzzles into your touch as you tuck his bangs away, beaming at you when his soft waves are smoothed out and his cheek rests in your palm.

“ahh, this is so much better,” he sings, pressing his fingertips to yours before he slides them to intertwine together. “now you’re right where you belong.”

he looks up at you, only to see your pretty eyes closed; you fell back asleep quicker than he thought you would. he’s watched you sleep enough to have the sight committed to memory, but he admires it all the same. he smiles, resting his face in the soft curve of his arm, feeling the soft rise and fall of your chest as his thumb brushes over your hand gently.

his eyes shift to the side at the flash of your phone, and he’s careful not to disturb you as he grabs it from your nightstand. the agency’s office line calling, no doubt wondering where you were; his eyes harden, something icky and irrational settling in his chest that something else nearly interrupted you, again. he powers it off, tosses it somewhere in the sheets with a sigh before he lets his own eyes fall shut again. they could leave a voicemail. 

he hopes you’ll accept his apology in kisses when you wake up.

BSD MASTERLIST

[aly-insanity]

[aly-insanity]

WDYM NOT EVERYONE WAS TRAUMATISED IN THEIR CHILDHOOD????????😨😨😨😨😨😨😨😨😨🤨🤨🤨🤨

[aly-insanity]

WDYM NOT EVERYONE WAS TRAUMATISED IN THEIR CHILDHOOD????????😨😨😨😨😨😨😨😨😨🤨🤨🤨🤨

[aly-insanity]

Hop On That Delulu Train Bestie || Minors DNI

Summary: HOOOLY S H I T. WHY. DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? May you all find peace one day and cure your chronic horniness and delusions for men who would never want you irl <3 (Just like me fr). Anyways, this has been sitting and gathering cobwebs for weeks now, but I’ve decided to finish it in honor of chapter 109. Keep being delulu babe.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, Afab reader, Soft Dom Dazai, Fingering, Cunnilingus (Why Is That Such A Silly Word), Pussy IS Therapy Ig, He Just Seems Like An Avid Pussy Eater Idk, Would Definitely Use Your Thighs As Earmuffs, Sorry Y’all Don’t Get The Dick <3, I Was Too Lazy To Turn This Into A Full Smut.

The quiet hum of a low light lamp buzzes through your ears as your eyes flicker over the words to the page mindlessly. Reading was boring, watching television was boring, everything was boring.

You look over to the clock on your nightstand and let out a loud sigh. Nearly midnight and he had still yet to walk through the door as he usually does and smother you with sweet nothings and soft kisses. Your gaze falls back onto your book, the romance novel glaring back with the most dull descriptions and irritating plot. You shut the book, tossing it aside as you groan and knock your head back against the headboard of your bed.

Picking up your phone that sits on the nightstand dresser, you note the empty screen with no obnoxious texts from a certain brunette. It was almost worrying not seeing his name on your lock screen with a bunch of random emojis spammed next to it. Unlocking your phone, you re-read your last text sent to him nearly two hours ago— asking when he’d be home.

You start to wonder if he’s late because of another failed suicide attempt, but you quickly let the thought pass when you finally hear the front door open. It closes almost silently, muffled footsteps growing closer to your room. Your eyes focus on your door frame as Dazai finally steps in, his clothes disheveled and hair messy.

“ ‘Samu…” You murmur, slightly taken aback at his appearance.

His warm brown eyes travel over to the bed where you lay and a small smile curls onto his lips as he shuffles over and climbs onto your side of the bed, his face and upper body planting atop of your legs. He heavily inhales before exhaling, his hot breath blowing against the skin of your thighs. Subconsciously, one of your hands makes its way into his hair and begins to comb through his tangled tresses. His arms wrap around under your legs and lock them in place.

“My love…” He whispers back, his body relaxing on you as his feet hang over the bottom edge of the bed. He kicks his shoes off and allows them to thump to the ground.

“You didn’t answer my text, something happen?” Your brows scrunch together in concern.

Dazai sighs, pressing a light kiss against your thigh, “My phone was in my pocket during a shoot out and it was sadly destroyed.”

You wait for him to make a joke about wishing the bullet went through his skull instead, but it never comes to your surprise. “Oh… Well, I guess we can go look for a new one tomorrow then.” You finish unknotting his hair with your fingers as a moment of silence settles over the both of you before you add, “I’m guessing today was rough then?”

He hums in return, enjoying the way your hand runs through his hair affectionately. “Kunikida made me do my paperwork,” He pouts, his chin coming to rest on your thighs to look up at you.

You briefly laugh, patting his head before speaking with a mock-sympathetic tone, “Aw, my poor baby…”

He huffs, burying his face back into the plush of your thighs, “You don’t sound very genuine, that’s very mean you know… He’s always bullying me around.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that whatever shit Kunikida gives Dazai— he deserves every bit of it for his shenanigans. You’ve only met him a few times as well as Dazai’s other co-workers, but it was safe to say that if anyone was being bullied— it was that poor bastard, Kunikida. “Oh, really? And you don’t bother the hell out of him until he loses his shit?” You stop running your hand through his hair.

Dazai gasps, overdramatically, of course, “I would never! Kunikida is my respectable co-worker who I value and treat with the utmost—“

“Then why do I get calls from him begging me: “For the love of God, please come get your terrorizing bastard of a boyfriend, I can’t do it anymore.” Huh?”

Cue another gasp, “You’re talking to other men?! Kunikida no less!?”

You roll your eyes, “It was originally because he called me to come get you every time you decided to take a dip in the canal, now it’s a complaint hotline for you.” You poke an index finger against his forehead firmly.

“Owie…” He brings a hand up to rub his forehead, bottom lip jutting out.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” You grumble, staring down at him, “I deserve a medal for putting up with your shenanigans.”

“Isn’t my love enough?” Dazai whines, making puppy eyes at you.

A sigh leaves your lips, “Yeah… You’re lucky you’re cute.”

His lips quirk up back into a smile and he nuzzles his face back against your skin, placing small kisses to your thighs.You don’t really keep count, but it takes a few pecks until he gently nips at your thigh.

“Hey—“ You squeak, pushing at his head which causes him to chuckle, “You’re doing that on purpose.”

The kisses on your thighs grow sloppy before he moves his arms from around your legs to nudge them apart, his body fitting between your legs. He quickly maneuvers your thighs until the backs of your thighs press against the tops of his shoulders, arms wrapping around your legs to keep you against him. “What? I’m just getting comfortable, my love.” He plays off innocently, his cheek squishing against one of your thighs as he looks up at you.

Your brows furrow, heat crawling up your neck as you glare back suspiciously, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And is it a bad thing?” He chimes back, going back to kissing your thighs.

You shiver, feeling his wet lips leave a trail of saliva to air along the insides of your thighs, “You know I’m—“

“Sensitive? Yeah,” He trails off with a noise that sounds like a groan mixed with a hum.

At this point, you feel a tingle crawl up your spine and warmth spread across your face. A fuzziness begins to form in your mind as his lips grow closer to the edge of your sleep shorts.

He pauses when he gets to your shorts, his face pulling away and his hands coming to tug at the hem of your shorts. “Want these off,” He mumbles, pulling at them.

You’re quick to lift your hips and slip your shorts down your legs, Dazai’s hands fumbling along yours to throw them to the side. He buries his face between your legs once more to press his lips along your inner thighs until he reaches your underwear. His face pushes forward until his lips press against your cunt and nose nudges your clit through the thin fabric.

A strangled moan passes your lips as he meets your flustered gaze, and although you can’t see his mouth with it pressed against you— you can tell he’s smirking through his eyes.

He softly breathes in before placing a searing kiss against your clothed pussy, causing your thigh to slightly twitch in his grasp. “I missed this pretty little pussy— haven’t tasted it in days,” He groans before bringing a finger to pull your underwear aside and reveal your glossy folds to him. His gaze is greedy as he parts your folds with two fingers, mouth watering at your slicked insides.

“Don’t stare…”

“Awe, but I can’t help it— looks so good,” Dazai breathes out before leaning forward to slip his tongue flat between your spread folds, licking up to your clit to collect your taste on his tongue. “Tastes good too…” He groans, lapping his tongue through for a second time, “I could spend the whole day eating this pussy out until you’re quivering and begging for me to stop.”

A strung-out whimper escapes your throat as you watch him. Heat burns the nape of your neck, the dizzy feeling hitting you twice as hard as your eyelids lull.

Dazai is shameless in his sucking and slurping of lips and tongue against your dripping cunt as loudly as possible. He doesn’t hold back any of his needy groans and muffled whimpers as he tastes every drop of arousal you have to offer. He strains painfully against the confines of his pants as he holds back the urge to fold you in half and fuck you on his cock until your drooling cunt is filled to the brim with his cum.

His tongue delves into your tight hole, the warm muscle wriggling against your clenching walls before sliding out. After repeating the process a few times, he moves to suck at your throbbing clit, sighing at the way it pulses against his tongue. There’s a small ‘pop’ when he pulls away reluctantly to replace his mouth with his lengthy, thin fingers.

“I love the way you squirm under my touch— drives me crazy— you know that?” Dazai grins before sinking a finger into your wet hole.

An airy gasp leaves your lips as you try to move away from him in surprise, only to have his grip tighten around your thigh with his free hand. “ ‘Samu, I—“ Your fingers clench into the sheets on the bed.

“I know, my love— feel good?” He borderline coos, eyes glued to the way you sucked his finger back in with every pump. “I bet it does, your fingers just don’t reach like mine, do they?” He adds a second finger, his digits curving into your gummy sweet spot.

Your hips involuntarily buck in to meet his thrusting fingers, your pussy squelching around his lithe digits. He leers at the obscene image of your sweet cunt swallowing his fingers down to the knuckle with a lewd moan.

“Good girl, keep fucking yourself on my fingers like that,” He croons, leaning forward to suck at your puffy clit again.

Surges of pleasure rampage within you as you clamp your shaking thighs around his head, grinding your aching pussy against his mouth and fingers. “M’gonna come, s’too much—“ You whimper.

“Come on my tongue— wanna feel that pussy clench around my fingers,” Dazai muffles a groan against your sensitive clit which has you coming undone and vehemently shivering from the feeling of your climax.

Dazai slides his fingers out of your pulsing hole and presses his tongue against your drenched pussy as you ride out your orgasm— his tongue not missing a single drip of arousal. He sighs quietly when he’s finished and pulls away, your bare sex covered in merely his spit now.

With your chest heaving from the aftermath, your head weakly shifts to watch Dazai sit up on his knees and hover over. “ ‘S-Samu…”

“Shh, I know, my love,” He laughs softly— and you think he’s going to redress you before cuddling into you like he usually does, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hand trails down to unzip his pants, the tip of his pre-cum leaking cock peeking out of his waistband. He pushes both his pants and boxers to his mid thighs before stroking his hard cock.

“You’re tired, so why don’t you just lay back and let me fuck that pretty pussy to sleep, hm?”

[aly-insanity]

“ there's a monster under the desk ”

— n. chuuya

[ cw : nsfw, afab!reader, oral sex (f!receiving), reader on the phone with mori at the beginning, pussy-eating, fingering, edging, begging ]

[ "are you already working on the papers i gave you?" ]

you couldn't help but bite your lips.

"y-yes, mori-sensei—ah!"

you covered your mouth, the ginger man smirked. the man on the other end of the line asked you worriedly:

[ "what's going on?" ]

"n-nothing! nothing, sensei! 'twas—hmm!—just a cockroach, yes! nothing to worry about. i'll g-give the papers when i finished it. g-goodbye!" you managed to stutter out despite the hell you were going through that moment.

lucky for you, the man just sighed and hung up, uninterested to know the real reason why you were squealing like a pig. though he already had some guesses and ideas.

the moment you heard your phone beeped—signalling the end of call—you immediately slammed it on your desk and let out a moan.

"i'm g-gonna—fuck!—i'm gonna kill you after—after this!"

you glared at the man under your desk, who just smirked at you. in response, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders, burying his face more in your pussy.

"who says i'll stop?"

he started licking your clit again and gently nibbling on your folds, pulling out another scream from you that you failed to suppress. he laughed.

"stop trying to hold back your noises, woman. i want to hear you," he murmured against your wetness that sent vibrations to every inch of your already-trembling body.

at this point, you couldn't remember how it happened anymore. your brain was a mush—'twas cloudy and every memory before he dropped to his knees were a blur. but frankly—obviously—you didn't care.

you threw your head back and gripped his long, orange hair to pull him closer. he growled and slapped your thigh.

"fucking behave yourself," he hissed and glared at you before going back to lapping at your abused pussy. he was eating it like a starved man; his tongue swiping between your folds and thrusting inside you, his teeth grazing your skin, his lips wrapping around your clit.

he looked at you with mischief in his eyes. he smirked when he saw you crying, with your lips releasing sobs and delicious moans that he could never get enough of, soft cheeks wet from tears. your hands gripped the sides of your swivel chair tightly, turning your knuckles white and your fingers numb. you were covered in sweat and your body felt like on fire.

seeing you lose yourself at the mere drag of his tongue gave him an immense amount of pride. and he loved it.

you whimpered again when you finally felt the familiar coil tightening inside of you. you tugged on his hair harder, "c-close—! 'm close, 'm close—fuck! give me more, please! make me c-cum!"

lifting your legs to the desk, you arched your back and looked at him with pleading eyes. however, he stopped and pulled away.

"no! n-no nononono—please! please, i'm so close, c-chuuya! i wanna cum!" you screamed in frustration and you sobbed. you knew you looked stupid, so so damn stupid. you were one of the executives of port mafia; one of the strongest, one of the most feared. yet here you were, begging a man for release.

the man just looked at you with a blank expression, but even through your tears, you could see the amusement swirling in his eyes.

"you can do better than that. do better than that," he smugly said, resting his head against the side of your desk. he wanted to fuck you then and there, wanted to make you cry and scream and beg for his cock and seeds. with how pathetic you looked before him, his mind showed him images of you bent over the very desk he was sitting under, with the papers you were supposed to work on sprawled on the floor.

"please! please, i'll be g-good! i'll behave, do w-whatever you want. just please! please let m-me cum! i want to cum!" you cried, with your fists against your eyes and your pussy quivering.

he didn't say anything. instead, he just dived back in to you. you screamed and mumbled a bunch of 'thank you's and curses while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you suddenly felt full and looked down on him, seeing two gloved fingers thrusting inside your hole in a fast pace, with his tongue licking your clit.

the leather scuffed your gummy walls and his finger tips repeatedly hit your spot with every movement. your moans got louder and your breathing got heavier, finally getting closer and closer.

"cumming! 'm cumming—cumming cumming—fuck!"

your body twitched and you arched your back again as your came on his fingers and tongue. he immediately slurped and lapped on your juices, groaning at your taste.

"god, you taste the best," he said and kissed your inner thigh. he chuckled and watched you catch your breath, your eyelids fluttering to keep your eyes open.

the red-head caressed your waist. "tired?" his velvety voice rang in your ears and you huffed, nodded. he finally stood up and leaned to kiss your sweaty forehead.

"that's a shame," he whispered and hummed, thumb caressing your cheek. his wet glove bothered you but you were too spent to complain.

without a warning, he gripped your jaw and made you look at him. he smirked.

"i'm not done with you yet."

[aly-insanity]

213 DAYS | f. dostoevsky

synopsis: you seek out a demons help not realizing just how long he’s waited for you.

authors note: LOL this was completely out of left feild. I binged bungo stray dogs in less than a month and CANNOT stop thinking about this man (and every other character) who would definitely manipulate me to death. LOL anyways enjoy this mess, i didn’t have much of a plan just kinda wrote.

cw: suggestive, soft!fyodor, lovesick!fyodor (he’s literally obsessed with you), manipulative, fluff, making out, cussing, plot convenience lol

wc: 3.9k

————————————————————————————————————————

Your hands were shaking terribly so you clenched them tighly as you followed a guard down a long, long hallway. It’s lights sickly, everything looked the same, the doors, windows, ceilings and flooring. All without a single identifiable difference. You took a steadying breath as the guard a few feet in front of you slowed. He turned slightly to talk to you over his shoulder.

“No one comes to visit this guy, your the first since he’s been here.” He says. You knew a lot about said prisoner. A bit of a complicated past, very, very complicated. “He doesn’t have any existing family, or so I’ve heard.” You could tell with the way this guard was talking he was sweet on the prisoner. That didn’t surprise you, the man you were about to see for the first time in months had a lot of things under his belt. He was manipulative, he could trick the soul right out of your body. The guard rounded one last corner and you knew which padded cell was his. Your hands shook even worse as the guard approached the door.

“I’m sure you know how dangerous he is.” The guard starts as you give him a sharp look.

“I do. Do you?” He looked caught, like the jig was up. He cleared his throat.

“Of course, ma’am. Our city thanks you for capturing him.”

“Just open the door. Oh and,” you take a step towards the guard. “Whatever he’s promised you, I advise you to not take it, or you’ll have me to deal with.” You threaten, the guard's eyes go wide as he slowly nods his head. “Good boy.”

The doors swung open and you saw him just mere feet away, locked tight in the middle of a room.

Fyodor.

There were countless scraps of paper littering the white walls. A various drawings of you. You walked forwards, eyes catching each piece. He started to not remember your face after some time so on some papers there were just hazy outlines but you knew it was you.

Your heart sped like crazy, his sharp snake like eyes met yours and a wicked grin spread across his lips. HIs eyes dragged every inch of your body, probably thinking this was a once in a lifetime visit and he had to memorize your features all over again. He told you you’d come back to him someday, you didn’t think it’d be so damn soon.

All alone the giant room seemed small. You walked forwards, feeling all sorts of things, sickness and anxiousness from seeing Fyodor again. You’d been driven right into the hands of a demon. You could feel his grip beckoning you to come closer. A dangerous energy swirling. You'd felt that since you first met him, unexplainable and new.

“213 days was all it took for you to come back to me.” Fyodor greeted as you walked the distance towards him. He’d counted the days, it wouldn’t surprise you if he knew it all down to the second.

“That’s quite some time.” You answered and Fyodor cocked his head to the side just barely, coal black hair falling over his shoulder.

“It is, my love, too long if you ask me.”

“Not long enough.” You quipped. Fyodor’s eyes locked onto yours. He was devilishly handsome, whatever pull to him back then you still felt in the pit of your stomach when you were around him. Like a magnet or a string tied from you to him. Everywhere you went didn’t matter because it all led back to him. Something kept you thinking of him for those 213 days just the same as him.

“You say that but your eyes tell a different story.”

“Mhm, is it the same story you so crave for me to want.”

“You will want it in due time, my love, but until then a new story is being written.”

“What story is that?” You ask. Fyodor grinned, eyes lighting.

“Well, the story of us.”

“It looks a lot like a tragedy.” You said and Fyodor sighed, amused with your comebacks.

“Now it does, but that’s just the first act. Can’t have a resolution so early on.” He’d wave off if he could. He was currently in a straight jacket, chained to the floor beneath him. He was a dangerous man and this was the only way to keep him from trouble.

“You’re smart, I’m sure you know why I’m here.” You say, you were now mere feet from him, his coal back hair looked like silk, his red crimson eyes looking up at you with something like amusement. You knew he was going to play dumb just for the sake of you talking more to him.

“I’m sorry, you might have to catch me up.” You needed his help and there was little Fyodor wanted in this word, but the biggest, most glaring thing he wanted was you. He’d been infatuated the moment he saw you fighting alongside the detective agency, he’d even foiled some of his comrades plans just to make sure you weren’t hurt in the process. Still, he was a highly dangerous criminal and should be treated as such. You needed to remember that. You slowly sat on the chair across from him.

“Dazai’s been captured and has been missing for three days now. The kidnappers have given us a week. If they were smart enough to trick Dazai they’re well over our heads. I’ve exhausted every avenue, I can’t sleep, I’m scared they’re going to kill him. I'm alone in all of this. If anyone is close to Dazai’s level it’s you.” You explained, Fyodor’s face morphed into something you hadn’t seen much except in your loved ones faces. He looked worried. “What is it?” You asked, scared that he knew something you didn’t and that he couldn’t help you, this was really a last resort.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” Fyodor asked, genuinely concerned. Your lips parted in surprise.

“What?” Was all you could say, he’d surprised you.

“How long have you not slept, my love?”

“That’s- that’s not what’s important here, Fyodor.” You dismissed.

“That’s what’s important to me. How long?” He asks, a bit more commanding this time.

“I- I don’t know. Two days at least.” You answer. Fyodor’s face goes serious.

“I will help, but you will not. You will sleep.”

“We’re working this together. Faster you solve the faster I can sleep.” You counter, wondering if this really was the only stipulation he needed in exchange for his help.

“Deal, we should get started at once.” He says, hastily working something behind his back until suddenly his damn straight jacket clicks and falls to the floor. You gasp, shocked. He could’ve broken out of that this whole time. You wondered what other measures put in place to keep him here were really just laughable to him. If he could escape so easily why hadn’t he before now? Was he really just waiting all this time for you to come back to him?

“That’s- that’s it?” You stutter as Fyodor stands, holding a hand out to you to take.

“Your precious company is more than enough to repay me for my services.” He beams and you know he means it. You're not sure what is it about you that has him to utterly captivated, whether it's all a lie and a part of some plan of if he really, truly cares for you.

Cautiously you take his hand and gently he pulls you to your feet, tugging you against his chest, long white fingers tucking hair behind your ear.

“You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you.” He says and you feel a traitorous blush creep across your cheeks. His eyes look hazy this close, you could feel on hand ghosting your cheek and another around your back. "Now, listen closely love, I own three out of four of the guards outside my door, plus the warden. You use those powers of yours on the last one and we can escape peacefully." He says, hands sliding off your body as he knocks a serious of knocks on the door, most likely some sort of code. Your mouth drops open.

"You what?" You burst out. He really was just relaxing here, not confined at all. Fyodor cocks his head at you, confused as though he hadn't just told you he practially owns the prison.

"I like to play games, dear, you know that. As long as I'm back in the morning no one will know." He says. Your jaw ticks as you strut across the floor, closing the distance between you two. You grab him by the front of the shirt.

"I'm not bringing you back here just so you can break free behind my back!" You growl, he looks at you as though you claimed the stars in the sky.

"I'm quite content here for now, but here, I'll make you a deal." He offers as you furrow your brows.

"A deal?" You echo and he nods his head. You let go of the front of his shirt.

"You visit me once a month and I'll stay put."

"You're crazy." You breath out, but the conviction on his face was real. He'd rather see you once a month than be free. It was fucking insane. You bit your lip in contemplation. "You give me the names of every worker here under your payroll as well." You say and he instantly nods his head.

"Do we have a deal?" He holds out his hand for you to take, and for the second time today, you take it. His cold hand envelopes yours, fingers gripping you gently as a smile spreads across his lips.

"We gotta go." You say and Fyodor nods his head.

"Swipe your card and put the guard with the blond hair to sleep." Fyodor says and you nod. You do as told, the door sliding open. There were four guards, three with dark hair and one women with blond hair. She looks up and smiles when you walked out. You smile back.

"Sleep." The power drips from your voice and the other guards are startled when the girl falls to the floor snoring lightly. They jump up, guns at the ready.

"Gun's down," Fyodor directs coldly, walking out behind you. The guards do exactly as told.

"Sorry, boss." The guard from earlier says, eyes meeting yours. You felt like an idiot, warning him earlier to watch himself around Fyodor and now here you were aiding his escape.

"We're going on a little date, keep things quiet while I'm gone." Fyodor says as the guards salute to him. You stroll out of the prison, Fyodor a step behind you.

“If you had an ounce of malice in your body you could destroy anyone that you ever came across, you know.” Fyodor said when you loaded into your car, the look in his eyes like a kid looking at their favorite superhero. Like he truly admired you. You had a hard time believing that but he was here and if he tried anything you could shut it down with your powers quite quickly. You had the power to control anyone with just your words. You were the one who captured him all those months ago, you could do it again.

“You're over estimating me.” You say as you turn down a backstreet that led towards the agency. Everyone else was out on various tasks, you were on this job alone. Everybody else just assumed he’d find a way to save himself, you didn’t like taking that chance. Dazai had saved you millions of times and you’d try your hardest to repay him.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself, dear, your agency friends would agree. You could be completely devastating.” Fyodor says as you roll your eyes.

“Well you must all be so lucky.” You wave off, pulling into the agency. You met Fyodor at the front of the car. Giving him a serious look.

“Don’t try anything, I really don’t wanna have to kill you.” You say tiredly, too tired to stop his hand from crossing the space between you two, tucking your hair out of your eyes. You freeze at the contact.

“To die by your hands would be bliss to me dear, but you won’t be rid of me yet.” He says, the look in his eyes like admiration, he looked at you the same way your father looked at your mother. It makes you feel unwanted things.

“When will I be rid of you?” You ask, but it was a loaded question and you weren’t sure what you meant. If you meant physically or mentally because you thought about him all the time when he was gone. Fyodor’s eyes slide down to yours, his hand lingering on your cheek.

“Dear, when we’re done here you’ll be begging me to stay.”

“In your dreams.” You challenged and he just smiled.

“Yes, those too.”

You swallowed and waved Fyodor forwards. As you walked, Fyodor turned to speak with you.

“You could’ve used your powers to bring me here.” Fyodor points out as though you didn’t know that.

“Yes, I could’ve.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Maybe I did, then I told you not to remember.” You jest.

“Oh dear, how I would love you to manipulate me. But alas you are nothing like me, but that’s what I like the most. The purest of intentions.”

You slide the key into the lock, pushing the door to the office open. Fyodor gives the place a once over as you lead him towards your desk.

You slide into your chair, taking out the letter that was sent to the agency about Dazai’s disappearance. Something you’ve looked at time and time again, it almost made you dizzy with exhaustion seeing it again.

Fyodor leans against your back, face close to yours as he reads the note over your shoulder. Your heart speeds at the contact. Fyodor’s hand slides down your shoulder to the note as he points to something.

“Dazai sent this himself.” Fyodor says quietly next to your ear. You snap your head to the side to look at him. He’s so close as he slowly slides his eyes to meet yours.

“What?” You force out.

“Look there, love,” you look at where his finger is pointing. It’s small so you bring the note just a little bit closer. A smile smiley face. You hadn’t noticed that before.

“What the hell?” You ask.

“Some letters are darker than the others, it reads out, ‘be back in two weeks, Dazai’.” You feel like a complete idiot. Anger builds fast in your chest. You rip the note in two and push yourself up from your desk.

“I just helped break a highly dangerous criminal out of a maximum security prison to find out Dazai’s on vacation.” You huff, falling back down into your chair. You hear a soft chuckle behind you. “Screw this.” You growled, storming out of the office towards your car. In your anger you totally forgot Fyodor but that didn’t matter because he followed you just a few steps behind. It was later in the day now, you were so tired and so angry as you stormed to your car. “Get in.” The power slipped into your words as Fyodor tripped over himself to get in the car, you hadn’t even noticed you did it, sometimes that happens when you lose control of your emotions. This was still so new to you. When you slipped in beside Fyodor, you pressed your head against the steering wheel, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that, dear.”

“But it’s true. It took you seconds! I haven’t slept in days, searching that note night and day.” Frustration built in your chest as angry tears formed in your eyes.

“Dazai’s lucky to have a friend like you, someone who would lose sleep to help. Doesn’t matter how fast I figured it out, you would’ve gotten it out.”

“The note said a week till he was dead.”

“And you still had four days. Stop being so hard on yourself.” You slowly lifted your head off of the steering wheel, eyes fluttering to Fyodor’s. His voice was so calm, so non judgmental, it was messing with your head. You clear your throat.

“It’s too late to take you back now, we’ll have to go in the morning.” You say, trying to snap yourself out of whatever spell Fyodor was casting onto you. His face softens.

“Okay, dear.” He says, settling into the seat. You were hesitant bringing him to your home, he could kill you. But some stupid part of you thought differently of him, some part told you he wouldn’t hurt you. And that stupid part, driven by exhaustion had you driving back to your place, leading him inside and locking the door behind you too. You turned to him in the dim light of your hallway, his eyes shining red.

“Do I have to make you behave yourself?” You ask, the tightness of the hallway had you two quite close.

“You do whatever you like to me.” He whispered, his pale lips smirking in the dark. You swallow against the dryness in your throat, something tugs in your stomach. This was a terrible idea. The way he was looking at you was more dangerous than anything. The space between you both was barely existent. He was so tall, so handsome, all dark and magnetizing. You felt it all washing over you now. A invisible pull. A terrible turn. You let out a breath in your chest, eyes locking with his. Your hands had their own mind, reaching for the front of his shirt, his eyes watch over you. Your fingers knotted in his shirt and you stepped in his space. His lips parted. “Love, you’re crossing a line.” He whispers and you pause, drunk on something you weren’t sure of. Clearly you weren’t thinking straight but sobering up felt like going against yourself. It was strange.

“Should I stop?” You ask. His hand slides up your arm to tuck under your jaw, cold fingers pressing there.

“Never.” He says huskily. “But if you kiss me now then throw me in prison in the morning I’ll be quite hurt.” He jokes, his accent thickens. The air in your chest that you didn’t know you were holding exhales. You leaned into him and watched his eyes drift close, felt his body slack in anticipation. He was completely whipped, he was the one under your spell.

“You thought I was going to kiss you?” You ask, gaining a bit of attention back. Fyodor cocks his head just a bit, eyes fluttering open.

“You weren’t?” He asks, his lips slightly pouting. You grin sharply, slowly rocking on the tips of your toes to pull him down to your lips. A soft press, an answer. Something shoots through your body at the contact. You wanted this. You’ve wanted this since meeting him. He’d wanted the same. You pretended it away the best you could but you couldn’t fucking help it. He wasn’t a good person but he was to you. It was like he was two different people. One made for you. Fuck, you couldn’t help yourself any longer. Your hands dragged up into his hair, tangling. He groaned into your mouth, letting you walk him back into the front door, pressing your body against his, pinning him. You pulled back, kissing his jaw down to his neck, he whimpered at the contact, melting against your touch. “Love, you— you can’t,” he panted, unable to form a coherent sentence. Your cold hand slide under his shirt, feeling warmth beneath it, he gasped at your touch. His hands held you softly, as though you’d realize who you’d be kissing if he held you even tighter. But you knew who he was, what he’d done. But fuck it. You kissed him all over, his neck and jaw and cheeks and lips, you couldn’t stop. He shivered and his fingers slowly dig into the fat of your hips as he pulled you closer to him. He sighed, head falling to the side to give you better access. You kissed softly at his open throat and he made a low sound.

“I’ll show you to my room,” you whispered into his neck, hand sliding into his. When you went to tug him he didn’t move, you turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“We shouldn’t.” He says and your heart dips.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” you say, dropping his hand but he catches your fingers, shaking his head.

“You misunderstand me. I want to. But not right now, you’re not- you’re tired and it’s been a long day, I’d rather you sleep then keep you up all night.” You find yourself blushing at his words. You swallow.

“What if I want that?” You barely whisper as though your words held too much gravity. You watch his jaw tick, something flashing in his eyes. It was clear what he was thinking about.

“Love, please, I have just a shred of chivalry left, don't test it.” God you wanted to test it so badly but you felt light headed, exhaustion plaguing you now.

“Alright,” you say softly, he closes the distance between you both, pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. When he pulls back he pauses a hair’s width from your lips and when he speaks you feel his breath tickling you.

“Let’s go.” He says. You fumble through the darkness, Fyodor’s arms around your body, pressing soft kisses to you shoulders and neck as you push open the door to your bedroom. You strip down, changing into a large t shirt, letting Fyodor borrow something to change into. Something an ex left at your place, you decided not to tell him that. You both fell into the bed together, exchanging tired kisses in the dark. His body on top of yours, the weight of it heavy, you brought your hands to his sides pulling more of him on top of you. “For someone who hasn’t slept in days you have a lot of energy.” He mutters against your neck. You shutter.

“I want you so badly.” You say before you can stop yourself.

“Trakhni menya…” he groans softly, rolling off of you. You roll to face him, blushing and hot. “You have to sleep.” He says, his hands sliding around you to pull you into his chest. You settle in his arms, his heart beating steadily against your back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder. You close your eyes, listening to his steady breathing. How things escalated was beyond you but you’d never felt more comfortable in your damn life. He pulled a cover over the both of you, reaching to flick off the light. He brushed your hair back out of your face as you wondered what the hell you were going to do in the morning. Taking him back made your stomach twist. You realized for those 213 days you were looking for a reason to seek him out. That when an opportunity fell into your lap you grabbed and ran with it because despite everything you tried lying to yourself about, you wanted him badly enough to break him out of prison. You settled closer to him, sleep slowly tugging you deeper. You tangled in bed with Fyodor, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

One last thought formed before you were taken by sleep.

You weren’t taking him back. He was yours to keep now.

[aly-insanity]

how about coffee & cigs dabi brat taming reader?

coming right up ☆ ～('▽^人)

warnings: brat taming (discussed by touya/reader -> referred to as play) spanking, punishment (reader gets a lil emotional from it), daddy kink, dacryphilia, aftercare

Touya likes that you’re not a pushover. He likes that you know how to stand up for yourself and that you’re not afraid to say what’s on your mind. You got a little bit more attitude than his past relationships and it takes a bit more communication to sometimes breach through to you in the occasional argument that arises. You’re a little stubborn first at times but you’ve learned to eventually be able to listen to your own boyfriend when you know he’s right.

On the outside, one would think that you wear the pants. And in a way you do; Touya is used to it in his everyday of letting you do as you please. You’re sensible and smart, he doesn’t have to do any babysitting on his end. Well most of the time he doesn’t have to. Otherwise, you navigate yourself just fine.

On certain days though, the two of you will say a certain phrase that shifts how the day will play out.

Touya sits on the patio chair and smokes, his coffee half finished in his mug, and the sun is warm on his skin. He takes in the quiet when you push the sliding door open and pop your head out. You tell him, “I wanna play today.”

He flicks ash off the tip of his cigarette first before telling you, “Okay, I’ll head inside in a bit.”

The conversation is always very leisurely when the two of you have it. It’s done while you’re ironing clothes or when he’s putting dishes in the dishwasher to run it, just over some menial chore that needs to be done because you and him were over having a formal sit down with one another. That was so early in the beginning when the two of you were just starting to be comfortable with one another.

Today it takes place on the couch with him massaging your feet in his lap. Rules are discussed, signals are made for certain messages, and most importantly of all you give your consent and he gives his.

Everything agreed upon is sealed with a kiss.

So the two of you play with Touya’s permission that you are allowed to test his patience and you will take whatever punishment he sees fit for your misbehavior. You see certain cues from him throughout the day, ones that get your heart racing because you know what the build up towards the end will mean for you. So you defy more and Touya sends you the signal for how many times he’s kept track of every action you’ve done.

It’s not about winning for you, it’s about the rush of domination when you lose to him.

You read his looks from afar and shivers go up your spine.

Yeah, that’s real cute. Keep on doing that and find out what you’re gonna get.

Because you crave Touya’s attention no matter what he’s doing. The worst thing that he could do is ignore you which he doesn’t feel very capable of doing himself in his everyday with you. He knows that you want his eyes on you. You hold his attention, let him keep track of every misbehavior, you challenge him and in turn he tallies everything mentally.

He’s entertained by your antics.

Go on keep disrespecting me, you have your fun.

When Touya reaches his limit, he sends you the final signal that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve exceeded the limit for his warnings and it’s a discreet signal that has always stayed the same from the very beginning. You see it, your heart flutters and you nod your head.

It’s time.

To the outside, people think that you’re in charge.

Indoors however—

“Fucking cheeky, aren’t you?”

He’s got you bent over the bed, both your wrists held together in his left hand and his right delivering spanks to your ass. The smack of his hand against your ass is loud in the room and it stings. When you sob into your bedsheets, you’re grateful for every bit of punishment Touya doles out but you feel that you can still do more.

When your body wriggles when he tells you to keep still, it only earns you more punishment. “Didn’t I say to keep fucking still?” Touya hisses.

“Did you? Sounded more like a suggestion to me—ah!” you’re cut off when he spanks you again and your wrists are released. It’s only for a few seconds before you’re put onto your knees before him, the soft rug you chose cushioning your knees as you’re made to sit.

“Don’t fucking move, you hear me?” he tells you firmly, holding your face in his hand to make you look up at him, “Sit right here and you only face forward.”

“Sit here? Huh?” you challenge him, still digging for defiance within you to keep the play going. You want to keep playing with him. “Just sit? So easy, is that all?”

“And say nothing.” Touya tells you with his frown setting in.

“Nothing.” you giggle up at him, finding a loophole around his command.

Last time you and Touya played, he played orgasm denial with you which you had way too much fun with until you couldn’t take anymore. There were other different kinds of punishments that he’s done in response to you being so adorably defiant, he loves it and you do too.

He slaps your cheek and repeats his order and again you defy him.

Remember that Touya doesn’t feel capable of ignoring you in his every day? That doesn’t apply on the days you and him decide to play. When you ask if you can push his limits during play, in turn he asks that in response he wants the option to invoke the punishment he deems fit. You agreed to it because you wanted to be more than just a little mischievous and petty. He can get you with one single word, a word he doesn’t use that frequently unless he feels necessary.

“Timeout.”

Your body freezes and your expression falls from your face. Your mouth drops open as if to say something but he silenced you with a single look. You are well over the limit with his patience if he’s brought on timeout. Timeout means that you get no time with him, no attention.

“Head down, hands on your knees and shut the fuck up.”

Touya watches your hands lay on your thighs, your posture is upright and you keep your head down as he told. Then he walks off and out of your peripherals. You are left in place, thinking over how far you’ve pushed Touya that now he’s denying you attention. Timeout is the worst for you because when you try to act out to get out of the punishment, he only extends it.

It frays your nerves a little, makes you unravel inside your mind and it almost makes you emotional. It’s more mental on your end, this kind of punishment he gives you. It’s both a consequence from him and for yourself.

You can hear him in the background and you try to imagine what could be going on his head. However all you can think is when he’ll tell you to do something and you have to obey. No more pushback from you, only obedience. This is the true punishment of you acting out.

You feel his hand on your head, petting you for a moment before grabbing a fistful at the root and yanking your head back. You let out a yelp, your neck straining to look up at Touya and you wait for him to say something. You wait for him to tell you what to do.

“You done?” He asks, his voice stern and his gaze hard on you, “Or will I have to continue this?”

“N-No… Please, I’m sorry.” You whimper.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

Then he gazes thoughtfully, thinking to himself if your apology is enough for him. You beg with your eyes, willing tears to not fall, praying and hoping that he won’t keep the timeout-

“Hm, head back down.”

You tear yourself apart inside. It wasn’t fair! You were good and did exactly what you were told! Touya is mean! He’s awful!

So many thoughts race into your head but you obey, keeping your head back down and waiting silently again for this extended timeout to end. It’s agonizing and your body starts to shake and you begin to sniffle. It’s best to keep it in because Touya told you to remain quiet.

He hasn’t spoken to you in… you don’t know how long!

You need him to look at you!

Look at me! Please! Say something!

“Say it again.” He finally speaks to you.

You sniffle and take in breaths, “I’m sorry daddy.”

He lifts you up by your armpits as if you were a child to stand you up on your feet. You stand with your jaw clenched and all doe eyed, visibly affected by a single word; timeout.

For a moment, he waits to see if a safe word will be put into place. He knows the territory he’s put you in and even though you had already discussed the limits, he still treads carefully if he senses you might teeter one way or the other.

You signal for him: keep going.

Silently, he points towards the bed and you follow the command with no argument. You crawl onto the surface and lay against the pillows, holding the back of your knees up towards your chest. It’s the position you’re supposed to take whenever timeout has been invoked.

Like a dog showing its belly to its master.

Touya joins you on the bed and he slaps his hand against the fat of your ass. His eyes are still cold as he looks down on you, but fuck his dick is achingly hard. Yes, the two of you discussed that you could push his limits today but you really did butter it up more than usual. More than just a tease and your tantrums this time around, you went a little further as you had wanted so he doles out what he felt was appropriate to your behavior.

This is what you wanted to play.

“You know why I put you in timeout?” Touya asks you. He receives a silent nod and he pushes his pants down to pull his cock out. He languidly strokes it in his hand asks why he brought out the ultimate punishment for you. In shaky words, you explain to him why you did what you did all while resisting to look in between his legs.

Keep eye contact and show Touya that you’ve given in.

The point of playing for you is never to win; you’re supposed to look forward to losing. But losing this way is the worst kind for you, when the punishment is actual discipline and not for your enjoyment.

“I like when you look like this,” Touya comments as he sits between your legs and leisurely pets your clit, “it’s cute.”

All sniffly and pouty, it’s a stark contrast to what he’s used to everyday with you. And the point of playing is that it’s time spent not being your everyday selves.

“Daddy, please? I did timeout… I did it.” You ask with shaky breath and pleading eyes, “Please?” He slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, making you jolt and even more antsy for him. Silently you beg for him, still keeping your legs propped in their position. Completely vulnerable and unlike the headstrong girl you are in your day-to-day, you’re disconnected from who that person is in this moment.

The tip pushes in and you gasp, your legs twitch and you keep your position. Slowly, Touya teases and shallowly thrusts to make you more frustrated. Outside of play, you’d be cussing at him and probably call him an asshole.

Right now though, you keep your lips pursed and wait for him to speak to you.

It’s agonizing how Touya takes his time to slip into you, all without speaking one word but you see it all on his face just as he sees every emotion that he sees on yours.

He adores you and loves you, he likes that you’re so strong willed and that you have some bite to you. He also loves when he can reduce you to the exact opposite of who you are during play when you give him permission to invoke timeout if your playing comes to that.

So he revels in this, that the worst way to punish wasn’t to spank you or make you go to bed early or even put some sex toy in you; it’s taking away the one thing that you always want him for no matter what.

His attention.

Touya’s hands smooth up the back of your thighs and grasp the back of your knees. You get goosebumps after retreating your hands and letting them curl on top of your chest, just right above your tits.

He taps his left thumb twice, another opportunity for you to tell him if you need to slow down.

You give him the same signal as before; keep going.

Touya’s hips snap sharply forward causing you to cry out and your tits to bounce. From then on, it’s an assailant of frenzied thrusts that reduce you to a mess. He’s deep in your pussy, finally using you the way he wants after all the build up. The veins of his hands pop out, his hands flexing as he holds onto the back of your legs firmly.

“Daddy! Daddy!” You wail for him twice before garbled moans are fucked out of you. Blue eyes are focused on you, taking in your expressions, watching your tits, and then drawn down to where he pummels his cock into your cunt. It’s obscene how much you’re cumming from this, that even though you were just on the verge of tears not too long ago, the lead up to this is what the both of you wanted.

So Touya fucks and he fucks and fucks until you quite literally have no thoughts that you can formulate in your mind. You’re reduced to a fucktoy with no other purpose than to just be filled by his cock. He grunts, feeling the pressure of your pussy clenching around his cock and it sends him to the edge.

He releases your legs and grabs the headboard of the bed, putting his entire back into these very last moments that will crash upon you. He fucks so hard that he knows you won’t be able to walk properly the next morning. Daddy still drops from your lips, little sobs tied in with your moans sink into his mind and he joins you in that plane of pleasure. It starts to suspend him up, the white static that builds and builds until you scream and every fiber within him unravels.

Your eyes roll back, your body quivers, and the high of an intense orgasm hits you. It wipes your mind clean and it has Touya almost losing his own composure too.

He’s catching his own breath as he slowly sits back, feeling his muscles are a bit overexerted and his mind begins to clear. Touya takes his time to calm himself while also calming you, his hands smoothing over your shaking thighs.

Your breath is shaky and you have tears in your eyes, the subspace has passed and the sub drop will settle in quickly. You’re still a little incoherent, unable to articulate your own thoughts and all you can do is let your own emotions overwhelm you still.

Touya settles down next to you and pulls you into a tight hug. There’s gentle murmuring from him, quiet praises and kisses pressed to the crown of your head. Good job, doll. You did wonderful. My pretty baby.

His hands smooth over your back while he speaks gently, listening to your little sobs and hushing you. He tells you that it’s okay, no need to cry. It’s all over and he loves you.

For Touya, his favorite part of playing is at the very end. When he tends to you after the intense connection and is with you during the recovery. You hang on tightly to him, begging him silently to not leave your side, speaking to him through strictly little sounds until you find your voice again.

He presses your head against his chest to listen to his heart and tells you, “Hear that? It’s beating for you, only for you baby.”

The rhythm of his heart calms you a little more and your tears have stopped. You look up at him and with a shaky voice you tell him, “L-Love you… I love y-you, Touya.”

God, you are fucking precious to him. His hand strokes the top of your head and he waits a little longer, needing to draw you a bath but waiting until you’re a little more stable so that he can pull away.

Recovery this time takes a little longer compared to the last play, which didn’t end as intensely as this one that was just done. Last time was more playful and cheeky, dancing around the limits but not pushing them like how you requested to this time. Touya knows that the next play that comes up, whenever that may be, will definitely not carry the same intensity. You usually need a long break after he pulls out timeout before you’re ready to play again.

A few days pass and you’re back to you.

Touya is back to having teeny arguments over mundane things like you not needing to buy another scented candle when you already three you haven’t used or him being fed up over eating chicken three days in a row so he wants something different.

You’re back to being his somewhat snappy girlfriend that’s a little bossy, but all gooey soft and in love with him.

[aly-insanity]

look at you

jealous!dazai osamu x f!reader | smut | 1.7k words

summary: dazai finds you, a drunk mess, flirting w chuuya while on one of your rare date nights. dazai comes up with a way to show you who you belong to.

warnings: drunkenness/inebriation, sex in front of a mirror, vaginal sex, cockwarming, thigh riding, cream pie, dirty talk, degradation, mild cursing, possessive behavior

a/n: oh, how i wish to be in this situation 🥺

18+ MDNI

Dazai tapped his foot against the carpeted floor of the jazz club, watching you from where he sat in the booth that he reserved for just the two of you. You were across the large, dimly lit room, at the bar, your hand lightly touching the red-head’s arm and your breath, undoubtedly stinking of the wine that Chuuya had sent over to your table, fanning across his face. Chuuya indulged in your touches and breathy whispers, truthfully only to piss Dazai off, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the attention from a beautiful woman such as yourself.

Dazai narrowed his eyes at his former partner in crime as he watched him place a hand on your hip and trace an unknown pattern down your thigh. Dazai got the memo. You were drunk and Chuuya was trying to piss him off, but that didn’t stop Dazai from feeling a bit jealous. And he hated that he let himself feel this way.

Chuuya smirked once he noticed that Dazai was watching, moving his hand down your hip and to your ass, all while nodding sincerely at what you were saying.

“And he’s just so cute, y’know?” You whined softly, “Sometimes I just wanna take his stupid, beautiful, dumb ass face in my hands and kiss him all over.” You pouted once you realized Chuuya was looking elsewhere. “Can ya listen to me? ‘M gushing about my feelings, over here.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we all know how much you love that bastard.” Chuuya’s smirk deepened. Oh, if only Dazai knew who you were talking about while pressed up against another man. You turned your head to follow Chuuya’s line of sight but Chuuya quickly and smoothly reached to cup your cheek, successfully bringing your attention back to him.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Your pout seemed to be cemented to your lips. Chuuya snorted a wry laugh and leaned in closer to you, letting his eyes flicker back over to where Dazai was sitting. Where Dazai had been sitting. He was now up and strolling over to where you and Chuuya sat at the bar.

“Listen, doll.” Chuuya lowered his voice to a whisper, demanding all of your attention. Your eyes were wide, cheeks rosy, and lips parted in anticipation. For the first time in his life, Chuuya felt a spark of envy for Dazai; he truly was a lucky bastard. “You wanna know how you could show Dazai your affection?” 

You nodded vigorously.

“Head home with him right now. I’m sure you’ve got a fun night ahead of you.” Chuuya released his hold on you and leaned back onto the bar just in time for Dazai to appear at your side. He cradled his wine glass, bringing it up to his lips to sip.

“Chuuya.” Dazai regarded the red-head, a smile on his face but eyes full of threats.

“Y/n was just gushing about you.” Chuuya drawled once he had finished his sip of wine. “Weren’t you, darling?”

“Oh, pet names! How cute.” Dazai quipped, wrapping his fingers around your waist and easily bringing you up to a standing position. “Honey, I fear you’re far too drunk to be around Chuuya. We’re going home.”

You let yourself be squeezed into Dazai’s side, laying a hand across his chest and peering up into his eyes. They were calmly looking back at you, but a part of you felt like you were in danger. The thought alone sobered you up in an instant, although your head was still swimming from the alcohol, and you felt your face heat up. 

You squeaked out a farewell to Chuuya, which Dazai did not reciprocate, and you were out into the brisk evening air, which did its job of completely sobering you up. The cold threatened to nip at your skin, but Dazai had already taken off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, quickly moving to replace his hold on your waist once you were warm.

The walk to your shared apartment was silent, save for the taps of you and Dazai’s shoes against the pavement.

“Are you mad?” You tested the waters once Dazai had slid the key into the keyhole of your door, hoping your voice was just soft enough to bring out any sort of affection from Dazai. 

“Why would I be mad, sweetheart?” He held the door open for you to walk into your apartment first, before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him.

“Because I was drunk and may or may not have gotten too close to Chuuya.” You shrugged off Dazai’s coat and laid it carefully across the bed. The silence that enveloped you while you took off your shoes made you nervous, and your fingers trembled as you struggled with the zipper of your dress.

Dazai moved over to you and gently moved your hands out of the way, unzipping your dress in one languid motion.

“You were drunk?” Dazai accentuated the past tense.

“I mean, yeah, couldn’t you tell?” You laughed lightly, hoping to brighten the mood. You moved over to the full length mirror in front of the bed, getting to work on taking off your jewelry. Dazai once again brushed your fingers away and took it upon himself to undo the clasp of your necklace, and then your bra, and set them both on the bed.

You watched Dazai in the reflection of the mirror, shivering as two of his fingers hooked themselves in the hem of your underwear and brought them down your legs to pool at your feet. He placed a searing kiss to the nape of your neck, fingers lingering just below your navel.

“What a pretty little thing.” Dazai murmured against your skin, in between kisses. “I wish something as pretty as you could belong to someone like me.”

You rolled your head to the side, closing your eyes and indulging in the feeling of Dazai’s teeth scraping against your skin. “I’m yours, Daz, you know that.”

“Do I?” Dazai moved his fingers to your pubic bone, lightly caressing the skin there. Even though it was the slightest of touches, you couldn’t help but moan. “A reminder wouldn't hurt, hm?” Dazai mused. He moved his fingers lower until they were skimming over your clit, eliciting another moan from you. Dazai continued to run his fingers over your clit, gathering as much of your arousal as he could, while he worked on unbuckling his pants and letting them hit the floor.

He sat down at the foot of the bed, guiding your waist to make you sit down on his thighs. He hooked your legs around his and spread his legs so that yours spread to, exposing you to the cold air of your apartment.

“Look at you, my little slut all opened up and leaking for me.” Dazai moved your chin so that you were facing forward completely, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. He brought up his fingers, webbed with your arousal, in front of your face. “This belongs to me.” He spread your pussy lips to show your clit and the pink of your vulva, as well as your leaking entrance. “This too.” He placed another kiss to the spot between your shoulder and neck, sucking for a bit before pulling away. 

The teasing was getting to you, and the only thing on your mind was getting fucked by your lover until you couldn’t walk anymore. You tilted your pelvis down and began to slide your pussy against Dazai’s thigh, softly whimpering at the pleasure from the contact.

“Is my little slut desperate for my cock?” Dazai smiled sickly at the jolty movements of your hips grinding against his thigh. You managed to whine out a confirmation. “You know I can’t resist my needy little whore.” Dazai grabbed your hips and coaxed you to stand up before bringing you back down on his cock.

You hissed at the sensation of being stretched out by him, your walls squeezing around his cock to try and find some stabilization. 

“The way you’re squeezing me, honey, that belongs to me, too.” Dazai’s hands moved up to your chest, squeezing and pulling at your nipples while allowing you to warm his cock.

“Daz…” You huffed out. “Please…move.”

“You want me to do what, sweetheart?” Dazai continued to pinch at your nipples with one hand and moved his other hand down to start rubbing at your clit. Your pussy squeezed down on his cock from the stimulation and it was his turn to moan; he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold out.

“Fuck me, Daz. Please.” You begged, opening your legs to allow Dazai’s fingers as much access as possible to your clit. You dared not look at yourself in the mirror, since you could imagine you’d only see the desperate mess that you currently were.

“Only if you can tell me who you belong to.” Dazai panted, trying not to focus on the feeling of your arousal running down his cock and leaking out around it.

“Yours. I’m yours, now please—” You were cut off by a strong upward thrust from Dazai, immediately seeing stars as the tip of his cock bullied your cervix. You had nothing to hold onto as Dazai thrusted in and out of you, and you briefly wondered if the vigor of his thrusts was going to make you fall down. The slight pain you felt on your hips from the bruises that Dazai’s fingers were undoubtedly going to leave reminded you that he wouldn’t let you fall off his cock. Not while he was fucking you like this. 

The only sounds in the room were the squelch of your pussy milking Dazai’s cock, and your huffs combined with Dazai’s, until a loud moan finally broke the monotony when Dazai came. The feeling of sticky, wet warmth covering your walls had you cumming right after.

You were both silent as you caught your breath, Dazai’s cock still inside of you. You chanced a look at yourself in the mirror, unable to look away from Dazai’s cum leaking out of you. Movement behind you caused you to look up and your eyes met Dazai’s in the reflection of the mirror as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Look at you, you pretty little thing.” 

“Your pretty little thing.”

[aly-insanity]

Found meaning in you (17+)

Pairing: portmafia!Dazai Osamu x fem!mafia!reader

Colour: Angst

Warnings: Kissing, biting, nipple playing, small scare, handjob, mentions of suicide, slight chocking

Words: 1,050

Summary: Your secret meetings are something you look forward to, and yet it's getting harder and harder to meet the port mafia executive. But you only just realise how much they mean to him.

"Well you're home late", you smiled at him as you saw him enter the bathroom. You made a show of stretching your naked legs out of the bathtub you had filled to the top with foam and fragrant essences.

Dazai's tired expression evaporated from his face. He let hi long black coat slip from his shoulders and with an elegant move of his hand he swept his fringe up and away from his forehead. His usual cocky smile replaced his exhausted frown as he waltzed towards the tub.

"Impressive", he placed his hands at the marble edge and leaned closer, "Not even I found any signs of you breaking in"

"You could say I'm a professional by now", your hands played with his slick black tie, "Mr Executive"

"My word....I would very much like to argue that. Hold this for me", he said and with that he relased his tie and dropped his phone at the palm of your hand. Before you could think of anything else, he was placing his weight on his hands and jumping inside the tub to topple you. You had not heard him take his shoes off, and yet there they lay on the bathroom floor, bathing in the water that spilled out from Dazai's weight. His fine black suit was completely soaked, his tie pin covered in foam, as he pressed his clothed body onto yours until you hit the end of the tub. "Don't drop it", with his eyes still piercing yours, his hand secured his phone on your hand, "I have important information saved in there". He leaned closer to your ear before he said deeply, "I deeply fear what I could do to you if you lost it".

You let your body relax, head leaning at the marble edge. "Oh?", you smiled as you lifted your knee to rub lightly between Dazai's legs. "Anything in particular?", you dangled the phone over the water.

"Hey", he encased the hand which threatened him in his and pushed it away from the water. His other hand journeyed over your body from the thighs to your neck. His fingers tapped on your nape as if they were pressing the keys of a piano, his thumb brushed softly on the skin of your neck. Water dripped from the tub as his body moved closer. He leaned in, his plumb lips caressing yours before his teeth emerged for a playful nip. "Let's say I'm far more rewarding with those who please me", he said against your skin.

"Is that so?", your free hand snaked under the waist of his trousers. Dazai failed to suppress his grunt as you palmed his length; it exploded against your mouth before his hand closed harsher around your throat, and his lips captured yours.

"Yes that is so", he said, his hand moving up to steady your head.

"I'm not your subordinate you know"

"That is exactly what pisses me off", he suddenly grabbed his phone away from your hand and threw it on his fallen coat. His arms wrapped around your waist as his body fell backwards until it was completely submerged. He pulled you under the water with him, his hand holding your nape down. He must had realised you did not have time to react and take a proper breath as his playful smile turned worried at the brief sight of panic in your eyes. He pushed you both back to the surface, his hands reaching to cup your cheeks. "I'm sorry", he kissed the bridge of your nose, "Are you alright?"

"Bastard", you smiled burying your face in his wet blazer.

"I was just fooling around Belladonna"

"I don't know if I believe that"

His smile faded away. His expression grew stern in a glimpse of an eye. Your legs still straddling his waist, his arms pulled you closer. His bandaged palm scrapped your cheek as he lifted your head to face him. "I would never lie about something like that, Belladonna", his eyes were fixed on yours. There was determination behind them, unlike anything you had seen from him. "Listen to me closely", he guided your hand over his heart, "This is yours now, tattered and broken as it is. It might long for death but it longs for you more"

He sealed his words with a deep kiss that took your breath away. His hands traced your body as he climbed lower to place loving nips on your neck and shoulder.

"What are you saying?", your fingers combed back his wet brown hair.

His lips stopped. He let his head rest on your shoulder. He felt so fragile as he clung to your body until his hand reached for your breast. Much like one focuses on twirling a pen in their hands during a meeting, he focused on making you feel good, drinking on your sighs as he stalled returning an answer. His thumb brushed over your nipple from time to time, circling around the small rosebud for the rest. He turned his head a little, just enough to place a small kiss on your collarbone. "I am not leaving your side, and you are not leaving mine"

You thought you misheard him at first. But then he lifted his body and nodded to you, to let you know he meant it. He sighed and leaned on the back of the tub, pulling you towards him. His right hand traced your thigh up and down, his left plucked a few wet strands of hair away from your cheeks and tucked them behind your ear. He leaned in to place a single kiss on your cheek but never drew back.

"I see no value in my life", his voice was but a whisper, "but yours is worth more than any fortune I can think of"

You held him in your arms so he would not let go. You clung to his drenched suit like he clung to you for a reason to live. "You're my everything", you told him and felt his shocked breath sing by your ear. "I love you with all that I am. And you know", you cupped his cheek as you gazed upon his beautiful face, "I am much too vain to love anything other than what I find to be priceless"

[aly-insanity]

Marked

dazai marked chuuya up, and chuuya isn’t having it.

first smutshot let’s go, it’s short i know but i *might* consider making a second part✨

Dazai was smart, this much Chuuya knew.

He knew the bandaged bastard had done it on purpose.

His comfortable black choker did little to hide the purple blooming under his skin, spreading beneath its leather with such meticulous placement that the red head could not cover it up easily.

Sighing, Chuuya took a long drawl of his cigarette, feeling the ash scorch his lungs. No, Dazai did not do this as a show of possession, he had done it to torture him. This the man was sure of.

Dazai did not care for shame. Chuuya was a man of dignity, always making sure his hair was clean and nails trimmed, coat ironed professionally, but his partner, alas, took every opportunity available to ruin him.

Each passing glance at a mirror, a shop window, a perfectly shined glass, immediately sent a wave of heat to his groin.

‘That damn mark.’

It only acted as proof of last night's endeavors, the picture of Dazai sprawled out so nicely beneath him, so pliant and behaved, it was enough to make Chuuya’s mouth water with want.

He had to deal with this all day, along with the odd snarky comment from Tachihara. It was painful having to sit through meeting after meeting, sort through paperwork, train the lower ranks and brief future missions with the annoying beanpole on his mind. It was infuriating, but at last, Chuuya thought it was over once he stepped out of the elevator.

Until he stepped foot in his apartment.

“Chuuuuuya!”

Chuuya wanted to slam his head against a wall.

What could possibly be worse than thinking of Dazai all day? Oh, I know-

“Welcome home, Chibi~”

-Dazai overstaying his welcome.

“I thought you said you were fucking leaving.” Chuuya cursed, rubbing his temples as if the man had manifested him a premature headache.

“I was, but then I thought about how lonely and miserable Chuuya would be without me, so I begrudgingly stayed.”

‘Begrudgingly’ wouldn’t be the correct term, there, in Chuuya’s lounge room, sat Dazai. Perched happily on the couch with some reality TV show playing quietly, Chuuya could also see he’d welcomed himself to the pantry, dirty dishes wasting in the sink. He’d strangle Dazai later.

Because what Chuuya also noticed was Dazai adorning one of his stupid oversized sweaters, which hung stupidly over his shoulder. The smug bastard smiled innocently as Chuuya’s eyes roamed over the blossoming marks where his bandages didn’t reach.

Every inch of skin that the man graciously let the world see had been littered with bites and bruises, in a silent worship. Chuuya couldn’t help it, art was meant to be admired.

“What’s wrong Chibi, cat got your tongue?”

Dazai knew what he was doing when he stuck his tongue out at Chuuya, winking suggestively at the petite mafioso who was surely losing his composure.

“You insatiable bastard” He murmured, stepping closer until he was toe to toe with the sitting man. Gripping his chin tightly he forced Dazai to look up at him, who held his gaze proudly.

“You’re pretty talkative for someone who was on his knees last night.” Chuuya had little resolve, the taunting only fueling his thoughts that have been plaguing him all day. It was truly an honor to see such a smart and composed man such as Dazai reduced to nothing but a whining mess. An honor reserved for Chuuya alone.

“Chuuya likes it.” Dazai nuzzled his face into said man’s palm, rubbing his cheek affectionately. Chuuya almost softened at the display, until teeth sank into his gloved hand and a hand gripped his arm tightly, pulling the smaller man into his lap.

Chuuya could’ve easily stood his ground, but he found that hard to do with Dazai.

Dazai desperately sought to be as close as possible to Chuuya with his arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Resting his hands on the taller man's chest, Chuuya indulged him a little by connecting their lips desperately and nipping at his bottom lip, drawing a low whine from the other's throat.

Dazai jolted when Chuuya’s warm hands reached the cold skin under his sweater, exploring every inch from his hipbone to his chest. He purposely avoided each sensitive spot that gave Dazai exactly what he wanted, making him squirm.

“Stop teasing” he pouted, bucking his hips up slightly, seeking that friction he was beginning to crave.

“But Dazai likes it” Chuuya mocked, pinning his hips down and preventing him from moving.

“And Dazai is the one who made my day extremely long, so he’s just going to have to shut up and be a good boy for me now.”

[aly-insanity]

𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆.

pairing. pervy roommate! gojo x f! reader

genre. (implied) friends to lovers, smut

warnings. panty sniffing, gojo jacks off with reader's panties, hair-pulling, pet names (doll, love), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick gojo, choking, gojo and reader are in their late teens ok (18 - 19), fingering

words. 6k

summary. satoru always hated laundry day, but now he's quite fond of it. after all, he gets to see all your cute panties and steal a pair for his personal use.

note. i want to use his cum as a face mask and this is the result 👩🏻‍🦯

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

"Satoru, you're–"

"Handsome, intelligent, charming and funny." A smirk graces Satoru's features and he probably would've flipped his hair if it was any longer. He sends you a cheeky wink as he leans against the kitchen counter, as full of himself as ever as he strikes a pose that would make any girl swoon for him. "Yeah, I know."

Well, any girl but you.

Sometimes, you wonder why you agreed to be Satoru's roommate. Maybe it was the fact that Jujutsu dorms cost so much that you couldn't handle the finances on your own and like the snake in Adam and Eve's garden, Satoru seduced you into this hilarious arrangement.

"I've got the money," he said.

"It'll be fun," he said.

A sigh slips your lips and if it weren't for the laundry basket in your hands, you would've put your palm to your head. This man is the sole cause of all your headaches. "You're doing the laundry today."

And with an echoing smack, you drop the laundry basket in front of his feet with your infamous are-you-kidding-me look.

"Again?!" Satoru pouts as he begrudgingly picks up the basket of dirty laundry and glares at the clothes like they're his sworn enemy, his arch nemesis. "I did them like two weeks ago, right? This counts as roommate abuse, I'm certain!" Is that a whine you hear in his voice?

Crossing your arms over one another, you pop your hip to the side and raise a fine eyebrow at your stupidly handsome roommate. "And I did them last week. It's your turn now, Satoru," your voice is stern as you bend over slightly in an accusing way. "While I signed up to deal with your chaotic ass, you signed up to do the laundry every two weeks!"

The daggers your eyes throw at Satoru make him think twice about dishing out another smart comment, but he can't help it. He thinks you're cute when you glare at him like this, hands on your hips and the hint of your cleavage blessing his Six Eyes. It's the only reason why he winds you up like this.

"Whoa there! If you keep glowering like this, you'll get wrinkles!," Satoru snickers as he dashes into the bathroom before you could cuss him out or toss another piece of laundry at his head. For some reason, you had once managed to toss a pair of his dirty boxers at his head from around the damn corner.

Satoru swears up and down that you put cursed energy into your throw, but you deny all accusations like you're a saint.

"No idea what you're talking about," you smiled.

"Maybe it got possessed by the laundry curse," you said.

He still calls bullshit on your claims.

Satoru finds himself sitting on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It's a little small with the laundry basket by his side, but he'll survive..right?

A bored look settles down on his face as he glances at the laundry, sighs in agony and grabs two articles of clothing, one being white, the other being a bright baby blue. In the back of his head, he can hear you nagging him about something..something seemingly important.

What was it again..?

Ah, right.

"Remember to separate the whites from the colored ones," Satoru mocks you in a high-pitched voice as he disregards your advice with purpose and stuffs your baby blue summer dress into the washing machine along with his snow white dress shirt.

Honestly, what could go wrong? The laundry coming out fresh and clean? Boohoo, what a bummer. It'd be a shame if the two of you had good-smelling clothing. How scary.

Pettily, Satoru tosses the laundry into the washing machine piece after piece. As he reaches the bottom of the laundry basket, interest gleams in his eyes as he spots the couple of bras and panties you hid underneath all the clothing and his underwear (which he always boldly and responsibly puts in the laundry!).

After several months of living together, Satoru has seen your underwear more times than he can count and he wonders why you're still so embarrassed about it. He's seen all your granny panties.

A pair of simple, dark purple panties catch his attention. Nimble fingers are quick to pick them up and Satoru regards them with..intrigue. They're plain and it's obvious you haven't gotten laid yet, but there's a cute little bow at the front. These must be new, he concludes.

Your nude feet are still parading around the kitchen as you diligently clean the space just like the two of you agreed on and it'd take a while for you to finish your part of the deal. Nevertheless, Satoru quietly shuts the door just in case..

"These are cute..," he muses to himself and stretches the fabric with his two index fingers. Lips pursed in thought, brilliant blue eyes scrutinize the panties with a certain glint like he's assessing, judging them over the rim of his pitch black sunglasses.

This is a good pair of panties, but nowhere as cute as the ones with the floral patterns; those are Satoru's personal favorites that are still hidden in his nightstand's drawer. He swears he's no pervert, but he can't help himself!

You're nothing but sweet to Satoru, always offering him the last slice of pizza and taking care of him when he's sick. A cute red hue dusts your cheeks whenever he teases you and oh, the way you stumble over your words when he compliments you! You get so awkward, it's cute.

What does Shoko call you? Ah right, a girlfailure.

Luckily for you, Satoru is very much into the girlfailure he shares the dorm with, although he hides it well behind an exterior of teasing, banter and his natural charm.

Once Satoru is done inspecting your panties, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling a little ball of heat form in the pit of his stomach. He gulps down the lump in his throat. There's no scent sweeter than that of your pussy when you got your own panties wet. It's obvious on that little wet patch darkening the fabric a tad bit.

Oh, how adorable you have to be when your little cunt gets excited, soaks your panties and you can't do anything about it.

"Hmm..," Satoru hums in thought before stuffing that certain pair of panties into his pockets. "I'll keep these for research purposes."

It's late at night when Satoru tosses and turns in his bed. It's not the summer heat that makes it hard to fall asleep, but the thought of you. The way you'd show off your legs in those little shorts, your cleavage blessing his glimmering eyes from underneath the top and the way you are..you around him.

All of it gets to him in ways that he could never say out loud or else you'd kick him out in an instant.

"This sucks," Satoru groans and tosses an arm over his eyes, rolling around in self-pity. Who would've guessed that he'd fall for the cute new classmate who has as much of an attitude as he does? Maybe if you weren't like this, he wouldn't be lying on his back, fighting back a raging boner as he thinks about your sweet smile.

Satoru tries ignoring it. He thinks of Yaga's cursed corpses, Shoko calling him a loser for staring at you like a love-struck puppy and the way you felt in his arms when he had to save you from a curse.

He sighs in agony. Enough is enough!

Satoru hooks his fingers into the elastics of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. A wet smack bounces off the walls as his cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, twitching and throbbing. Satoru groans.

The tip is flushed a pretty shade of red and pre-cum oozes from the slit, pooling on his heated skin. His cock is curved upwards and certainly doesn't lack in thickness or length. A pretty vein runs across the sensitive skin, starting from the base and going all the way up to the flushed tip.

Shit..," Satoru cusses softly and briefly leans his head back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just thinking about you wearing those cute panties, pushing them to the side and sheathing his cock in your tight hole is enough to get him this hard, to get him this eager to fuck you.

But he can't.

You'd likely slap the living daylights out of him.

Satoru wraps your used panties around his hand like he's done many, many times before before he fists his cock. One drag up and another one going down. The soft fabric of your panties rub him just the right way, drawing a deep groan from the depth of his chest.

"Fuck, [Name]..," he breathes out and gradually begins rubbing his cock at a steady pace. "You'll be the death of me.."

Satoru can no longer help himself. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, thinking of your cute smile. The way you call out his name, come crawling to him when you need comfort and not to mention you accidentally flashed him your panties when you were up against a curse.

But that's not all. He can only imagine sinking himself into your cunt, stretching you out and making you cry as he fucks you into the mattress. Certainly, he'd leave your greedy pussy leaking of his cum and wanting more until he'd overstimulate himself.

Satoru moves his fist faster and tightens his grip around his cock. Pre-cum stains the dark fabric of your panties that slide along his length so effortlessly, like you've chosen that specific pair just for him to use.

"Crap, just a bit more..," he mumbles, voice thick with a mix of longing and lust alike.

One tight drag upwards, he uses his thumb to massage the swollen head of his cock, squeezing some more pre-cum out. The white essence stains his fist, your used panties and trickles down the length of his cock until the drops pool at his heavy balls.

Would you let him use your hand like that?

Scratch that, why would he cum over your delicate hand when he could fuck your mouth, have tears streaming down your cheeks and cum down your little throat?

Yeah, that seems much better.

"Fuck, yeah.. Just like that.." Satoru's abs twitch in anticipation and his cock twitches in his hands as he gradually speeds up. The scent of your panties invades his nose, making him delirious and clouding his mind. All he can think about is cumming in your pretty panties.

His hips buck up into his fists and he quickly wraps the crotch of your panties around the tip. He's so close he can taste it. "Ah.. Ngh.. Fuck.. Yes, yes, yes!"

The movement of Satoru's fist is messy, almost needy as he finally cums with your name on his tongue. "Ah fuuck, [Name].."

Pearly white cum stains the fabric of your panties and soaks them as Satoru rubs himself through his orgasm, milking himself of every last drop. Groans and moans generously spill from his lips as he thinks of you, your perfect lips wrapped around his tip and swallowing his cum like a good girl.

Sweat trickles down his temple as he comes down from his high, soft huffs escaping his lips. Pulling the panties away from the head of his cock, Satoru stares at the pool of cum like he's entranced.

He wonders if you'd wear those with his cum on them, his seed sticking to your pretty pussy all damn day.

"Shit.." Satoru wants to discard the panties, let them join the laundry basket so you wouldn't notice but when his brilliant blue eyes flutter open, they suddenly meet your gaze.

Your eyes are wide, lips parted and your tongue slides out to wet them. A glimmer of shock swims in your eyes and a hue of red dusts the apples of your cheeks.

All you wanted was to seek out his company since you had trouble sleeping, but when you opened the door just a tiny bit, you suddenly watch Satoru shamelessly jacking himself off with your newest pair of panties. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot deny the throb between your legs or the wetness pooling there.

He looked..pretty when he came.

Satoru groans. "Instead of watching, you could help a guy out, you know?"

"Excuse me..?" Your ears must be deceiving you just like your eyes. Certainly, this has to be a very realistic dream in which you catch Satoru jacking off, but you'd wake up soon, right? You'd wake up and keep this dream to yourself to save yourself from Satoru's onslaught of teasing words.

Clicking his tongue, Satoru sits up on his bed and pets the spot beside him. "You can't sleep, right? C'mere, I'll help you out."

Yes, this definitely has to be a fever dream of yours.

Against your better judgment, you sit down right next to your roommate who still has your panties - which are stained with his cum - in his fist. The mattress dips with your weight and you shyly fold your hands in your lap. You can't bring yourself to look Satoru in the eyes. Not when his cock is out in the open and standing at attention again.

"Look at me," Satoru demands and for a brief second, you do look at him only to bashfully avoid your gaze again. He thinks nothing of it. Grabbing your chin, he makes you look at him and your lips part in shock once more. "What's wrong, hm? You're usually not so..shy," he teases in low, raspy tones.

In the dim light of the little lamp on his nightstand, being dipped in soft orange hues, your eyes glimmer. Words don't come to you easily, your throat feels tight. How the hell are you supposed to react?

"This is..weird," you manage to squeak out and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment.

Satoru looks at you and then down at himself. He must admit that it is quite the entertaining situation with his dick whipped out, but with the way you're not pushing him away, he knows he's got you on the hook. All you need is a little bit of..coaxing.

"It's only weird if you want it to be." Satoru leans in until his lips are on your ear, whispering right into it. His hot breath sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and his lips press a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear. The kissing sound is soft, yet so wet.

"Satoru, you're–"

"Shh, just relax..," he whispers into your ear. Cupping your jaw lovingly, slow kisses travel from your ear to your cheek and end up on your lips. His kiss is firm, slow, yet there's a certain amount of desire laced into it like he wants you to drown in the pleasure along with him.

You hold Satoru's gaze through half-lidded eyes as your lips move in perfect sync; the result of having worked together for several years now. A firework of butterflies goes off within your tummy, sparking a fire and setting the blood within your veins ablaze. You can't fight it anymore.

Not when he kisses you like he loves you.

When Satoru sneaks his tongue past your lips and draws a soft moan from you, he smiles into the kiss. He finally has you where he's been wanting you for so long. You melt into his strong arms and paw at his chest like you want something more from him, but all he does is chuckle at your silent plea.

Breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his and your breath comes out in short huffs. Satoru smiles as he sees the hazy look on your face. "That's a good girl," he praises. "In the end, you're just my girl, aren't you?" He's oh-so-gentle when he strokes your cheeks and you swear..you're falling for him. Hard.

You nod your head. "Yes. I'm..your girl."

"Come here." Satoru cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss, this time sneaking his tongue past your lips. He draws a surprised gasp from your lips, but he pays it little to no mind as you melt into the kiss. Freely, he explores your mouth and shoves his tongue in just a bit deeper.

Your fingers bury themselves in his hair as you let your back down onto the mattress, pulling Satoru down with you. He gets comfortable between your legs and uses one hand to caress the skin of your upper thigh. Oh, you're so soft compared to his calloused hands.

He trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck where he playfully nibbles at the sensitive skin. Frisky lips suckle your skin between his teeth, sucking pretty hues of purple and blue into your skin. Your hands grasp his tee, a pleasured hiss slips your lips. "S-Satoru.."

Satoru smiles. You sound so cute.

But he doesn't stop there. No. Calloused hands grip your waist and Satoru trails his kisses and bites lower towards your collarbone and furrows his brows when he comes into contact with the sorry excuse of a top you're wearing. It irritates him, but he knows just the way to solve it.

"Off with it." With one swift motion, he pulls your top up and off, tossing it into some corner of his room. Sitting up on his knees, brilliant blue eyes drink your body in.

Those rosy cheeks and shimmering eyes, the curve of your collarbone and your perky little tits begging for his attention. Your waist feels just right in his large hands.

Satoru can't help but smirk. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?," he muses more to himself than you and before you can say anything, he dips his head low and greedily. sucks your nipple into his mouth.

Arching your back off the mattress, you moan his name in broken syllables. White strands of hair tickle your skin, but that's not even the most distracting thing. It's the way he grabs your tits, gropes them and swirls his tongue around your nipples.

"A-ah, Satoru!" Your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots, but Satoru pays you no mind. In fact, he groans in appreciation. "Slow down!," you beg but he skillfully ignores your pleas like always.

"Are they sensitive?" Satoru pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop and smirks as it glistens in his saliva. "They look sensitive." Grabbing a new handful of your tits, he squeezes them harder until you whine, kiss-swollen lips parted and all. You curl your toes and dumbly nod your head. "Of course they are.."

Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, Satoru leans in until his lips brush against the conch of your ear. He gives it a slow, tantalizing lick. "You're so responsive and sensitive. I can't wait to hear you when I sink my cock into you," he whispers into your ear, voice rough and thick with primal lust.

"Then do it," you whine and buck your hips up into his. Your clothed pussy grinds into his cock in delicious ways. You can feel his size through the material and briefly wonder how he's supposed to fit. "Just fuck me already, Toru.."

Your begging catches Satoru off-guard. He blinks at you once, twice before his lips crack into a mischievous smile. "My, my, you're so impatient and demanding for a virgin." It feels like he's mocking you as he's pulling his tee off, revealing his toned abs to your greedy little hands. "I've gotta prep you a bit, doll. Or else you'll whine about how it's too big."

With blazing, fond eyes, Satoru watches you as your hands appreciatively wander from his toned stomach all the way up to his muscled chest. Your gentle touch is enough to leave a burning path behind that makes his muscles twitch underneath the tips of your fingers.

"I would never..," you mumble absent-mindedly, soft palms stroking his flexing biceps all the way down to his forearms. You've seen Satoru shirtless countless times and yet, you never quite realized just how..built he really is. It's about damn time you appreciate him, right?

"Oh baby.. Yes, you would.." Satoru grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding it to the elastic of his shorts and boxers, encouraging you to pull them off completely.

You take a steady breath through your nose and hold his gaze while pulling off the rest of his clothes, tossing them away like he did earlier. For a moment, you don't dare to look any lower than his mesmerizing eyes. It felt..indecent, but isn't that the fun part?

"There we go," Satoru snickers once the remaining clothes are off your body and on his bedroom floor. He's shameless as he grabs your knees and forces your legs open to stare at your leaking cunt. The lips are glossy and sticky with arousal. If he looks closely, he can see your tight walls fluttering around nothing. "Fuck..gonna loosen you up a bit first, okay? It'll feel good, trust me."

"Y-yes.." You nod your head, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru kneels in-between your legs and uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips open. Long fingers massage your messy lips to get you used to the feeling, steadily rubbing them up and down before his fingers go to brush your clit.

"Ah!" You curl in on yourself, your thighs want to squeeze shut but are stopped by Satoru's slim waist. "Satoru, that's–!"

"Good, isn't it?" He finishes your sentence with a smug expression on his face and cocks his head to the side as he watches you squirm. His thumb teases your clit in slow circles, playfully flicking the nub a few times until you're moaning his name. Oh, Satoru's having way too much fun touching you like this.

"Yes, yes! O-oh!" Your eyes go wide as Satoru lathers his fingers in your essence and glides his middle finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it into your tight cunt. "It feels..funny.."

Satoru laughs. It's loud and melodious and makes you blush deeply. "Don't worry. You'll feel good in a moment. Just relax and enjoy it, doll."

Gently, Satoru curves his finger upwards and thrusts it in and out of your cunt. The initial uncertainness on your face morphs into pleasure and your head drops back into the pillows. Soft moans and sighs spill from your lips, your legs fall open. Pleasure begins to cloud your mind.

"Good girl," he praises you and lowers himself on top of you to press a kiss to your cheek. "All you have to do is take my fingers one by..," Satoru trails off and eases his ring finger into your cunt, gently rubbing that sweet spot within you. "..one."

"Ngh..ah..oh god.." You dig your fingers into the sheets below and arch your back, pressing your tits flush against his hard chest. With twitching thighs, you grind your hips into Satoru's skilled fingers and moan your praises right into his ear. "More.. Need more.."

"You're still a bit too tight for my cock, love," Satoru chuckles as he picks up the pace, fingerling your little pussy in scissoring motions. "I don't wanna see you cry about it..yet."

Each time he drills his fingers into you, his skin smacks against yours, making your hole squelch embarrassingly loud. Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as Satoru effortlessly pokes that sweet spot that you could never reach. Excitedly, your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and welcoming his index finger.

The stretch burns in delicious ways as he spreads his fingers a bit, making sure to spread you a bit before he'd fuck you.

"There we go," Satoru murmurs once you can take all three of his fingers and your juices drip onto the sheets. The smile gracing his lips almost seems to be one of pride. "Think you can take me yet, doll?"

Hastily, you nod your head. "Yes, please! I want you so bad, Toru.."

Satisfied with your answer, Satoru slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, a thin string of arousal following the tips of his fingers. Your juices are webbed between his fingers and he can't help but admire it for a moment before licking his fingers clean.

"Mhh..I can't wait to put my mouth on you next time," Satoru muses as your taste clouds his taste buds. But where's the fun when he's the only one tasting your juices? With a smirk, he pries your lips open and slides his fingers into your mouth. "Go on. Taste yourself."

A soft expression falls over your face as you wrap your tongue around Satoru's fingers and suck on them. The taste of your cunt has you flushing from your chest up. This is filthy, something you've never even thought of doing, but with Satoru..you'd nearly do everything he demands of you. And so you eagerly suck his fingers clean with a little moan.

Once he's certain you've done your job right, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your mouth and absent-mindedly wipes them dry on the sheets. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls your body flush to his and pushes you into the mattress with his weight. His breath fans across your cheeks.

"This might sting a bit, doll. But you'll get used to it, yeah?," he assures you. Although he appears so composed and level-headed, one glance towards his cock is enough to let you know that he's just as impatient as you are.

Your eyes fall back to his and you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay..I can take it."

Satoru smiles and locks your lips with his as he swiftly thrusts his hips against yours, sheathing his cock within your tight walls. It's a messy kiss; you whine into his mouth as he stretches your cunt out and slowly goes deeper, deeper, deeper. Your nails are buried in his scalp, pulling at his hair and your breath comes out in pathetic huffs.

Once he's balls deep in your pussy, Satoru breaks the excuse of a kiss and rests his forehead on your own, composing himself. A steady huff slips his lips as he tries his best to keep still. "Fuck.. I loosened you up and you're still so fucking tight," he groans.

Satoru's words send a shiver down your spine and your walls seem to suck him in a bit deeper. "Shit.. You're b-big..," you say, voice a bit high-pitched but sugary sweet.

He laughs, gently. That's the sort of ego boost someone like Gojo Satoru definitely doesn't need. "I told you it'd be a tight fit."

Large palms caress your thighs and hips while he's peppering kisses up and down your neck. "Tell me when I can move, doll.."

For a moment, you bask in the attention Satoru so generously provides you with. Little kisses, gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The pain of the stretch slowly ebbs away and you nod your head. "Move, Toru..," you mumble with a desperate edge. "Please move.."

You don't have to tell him twice. Satoru pulls his hips back until only the tip remains and slowly thrusts back into your cunt with a deep grunt. Dull fingernails bury themselves into the skin of your hips as he sets a slow pace and draws moan after sweet moan from your lips.

Your toes curl. Satoru's cock presses into all the right spots that you could never reach on your own. He wipes all worries and every possible thought from your mind. You throw your head back into the pillows and arch your back, tits bouncing with each thrust he delivers to your freshly popped cunt. "Ah..mh..fuck yes.."

Your moans increase in volume and pitch; he picks up the pace and buries his face in the crook of your neck where he bites into the skin to muffle his own noises, claiming you as his. "Crap..so tight..so wet.." A few curses fall from Satoru's lips.

Pushing you further into the mattress, Satoru grabs your wrists and pins them up above your head; you don't even seem to notice. He finishes each thrust with a roll of his hips and groans whenever your gummy walls flutter around him, needing him to stay right where he is.

Suddenly, your eyes go wide and a little scream is torn from your throat. "Ah! Toru! Right there!"

"Right here?," Satoru rolls his hips into yours again, placing his large palm on your lower abdomen, only to draw the very same reaction from you. You rapidly nod your head, lip bitten between your teeth. He smirks. "So that's the spot, huh.."

Satoru interlaces your fingers together and begins abusing that spot for good measure. His cock drills into your poor pussy over and over again as you moan and squirm underneath him. Around his waist, your thighs shake. Your juices drip down your ass and his balls, making each smack just a tad bit louder, filthier. His groans mix with your moans and little babbles.

The way you look at him through half-lidded eyes, taking his pounding like you're made for him specifically and offering your body for his pleasure. It's all too much for Satoru.

"Shit..can't make love to you when you're looking at me like this." Letting go of your hands, Satoru swipes his sweaty strands of hair back and briefly pulls out of you. Calloused palms grip your waist and easily flip you flat on your stomach.

A squeak of surprise slips your lips as your face is suddenly in the pillows and the way you look at him over your shoulder is probably awkward, too. "Toru..?," you ask through heavy pants.

Hands still on your waist, Satoru uses his strength to push you into the mattress, to keep you from squirming. "Hold still. I need to fuck you, doll."

There's no need to question what exactly he means by that when his cock bullies its way into your small cunt again. This time, you cry his name into the pillows and lightly kick your legs as he drills right into that spot that makes you see stars.

Satoru is no longer gentle with you as he fucks into you over and over again, shamelessly using your body like he's dreamed of for so long now. All the cute noises you make only fuel him more until he's pounding you into the mattress.

Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, all you can do is moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. Any bit of decency or shame is wiped clean from your mind as Satoru drills his cock into you with precision.

"Still such a tight little pussy..," Satoru laughs, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. "Do you like it that much when I use you like this? Tell me."

A rough hand grips the roots of your hair on the top of your head as Satoru leans over your body, pressing his front flush to your back as he continues to pound away at your pussy. His mouth is right at your ear, groaning into it. "C'mon, use your big words like you always do, doll."

Tears gather at your eyes and they're quick to run down your cheeks. You can hardly think straight, much less form a coherent sentence with the way he's treating you. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together before your voice comes out as a broken moan paired with sobs. "I love it, Toru! Don't stop, please.. Please, please don't stop.. Feels too good.."

Satoru groans at your words and rewards you with a particularly sharp thrust. The hand in your hair slides down around your throat, choking you lightly as he catches your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.

Your eyes roll back again as Satoru easily dominates your tongue. The slippery muscles slide against each other, getting all tangled up and making saliva slip from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts into your mouth, his lips finding yours a few times like he needs more of your taste.

"Toru..," you whine, lips swollen from all the kissing and glossy with his saliva. "I'm gonna.. Ah! Oh God!"

"I know baby," Satoru hushes you softly. By the way your cunt clenches around him sporadically, your shaking thighs and those hot tears rolling down your cheeks, he can tell you're close. "Let it go. I've got you."

Your orgasm comes crashing down on you with one skilled roll of Satoru's hips. A yell of his name tears through your throat as you cum all over his cock, making a mess of his lap and the sheets below. He keeps you in check as you squirm and sob and he whispers sweet praises into your ear that go in one ear and out the other. He helps you ride the waves of your high.

"Fuck, gonna fill this sweet pussy up..," Satoru groans and thrusts into your abused cunt a few more times before he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name loudly as he squirts thick ropes of cum right inside. His hips come to a halt as he grinds his essence deeper into you until it seeps out from where he's plugging your hole so deliciously.

For a while, you bask in Satoru's weight collapsing on top of you as he holds you impossibly closer and caresses your lower stomach with sweaty palms. Lazily, he peppers sweet kisses along your neck and pushes your sweaty hair away from his path so he can nuzzle into you all he wants. Snowy strands of hair tickle your face.

"That was..," you start, still out of breath.

"..amazing," Satoru finishes for you with a chuckle.

Not long after, Satoru is kind enough to pull out of you and clean up the mess he's caused. Every once in a while, he claims that it's mainly you who caused the mess since you were, quote "dripping wet", but he's just teasing you, changing not only the sheets but cleaning you up with a damp cloth as well.

Satoru slides right underneath the covers with you and lets you rest your head on his chest while holding you close to his body. Although the room smells like sex, the two of you savor the post-orgasm glow and just..hold each other.

"You know, you're quite the pervert for watching me jack off," Satoru breaks the silence and draws a faux offended gasp from you. Playfully, you smack his chest and he snickers. You always give him such perfect reactions.

"It's you who's the pervert! You jacked off with my panties!" It explains why all your panties disappear for a while only to suddenly spawn from the washing machine.

Satoru rolls his eyes. "Duh? How could I help myself when they're so cute? It's your fault, obviously."

The both of you banter back and forth for a while, mixed with laughter and giggles that fill the room. Despite the fact that Satoru is a panty stealer, the moment is quite sweet. You're glad that you can still laugh with him like this after having done..unspeakable things.

Once the laughter dies down and your eyes grow heavy, you feel like you should confess one more thing before drifting off to dreamland in Satoru's arms. Your voice is quiet and soft as you speak. "I've..used a pair of your boxers.."

Satoru tightens his arm around you and takes a breath through his nose. "Have you touched yourself in them?"

Silence follows, speaking volumes about the deeds you have committed.

"..Can I sniff them?"

"You pervert!"

"Objection! You're just as messed up as I am!"

feel free to send me your jjk thirsts/thoughts and i'll write a lil' something <3