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tiredlilguy · 8 months

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Two... Night Stand?

a/n: uh... i had a rush of adrenaline and I realized i haven't written for oda yet in a full fic... this is almost 4k words. for context: i was listening to "bad idea right?" by olivia rodrigo. enjoy :D [this is on A03]

pairing: Oda Sakunosuke X Mafia Exec!GN!Reader cw: NSFW 18+ (DNI if you are a minor. you will be blocked), possibly ooc, half-proofread, SB spoilers (just a character) desc: (takes place after the dragon head conflict, before dark era) it's been a couple weeks since you and your boyfriend have broken up. however, ever since then, you've been texting him back and forth ever since then. he moved into a new apartment and invited you over. ;)

You were currently in the middle of a job, when your phone vibrated from your side pocket. You were near to done and so you just let your fellow subordinates and coworkers handle it. You traveled out of the makeshift war zone with a bloody metal bat over your shoulder as you picked out your phone from your side pocket. Usually, you weren’t one to answer texts, especially in the middle of a job, but recently you’ve been really antsy the past couple of weeks…

That mean reason being your ex-boyfriend.

It’d only been a couple of weeks since you’ve both broken up, and you’ve been nothing but anxious.

Most of your time during work was spent reading over a file and then every few minutes or so checking your phone.

You had wanted him to answer you… for some reason, despite you both breaking up.

Every now and then you’d text him, and he’d text back, but the last two days (in counting) you haven’t heard back from him.

To say the least, this breakup wasn’t doing you any justice and the moment you heard the vibrations from your phone, you walked out. However, being a respected executive, no one would really bat an eye, less look at your direction. Needless to say, you picked up your phone, leaning against the wall and placing your bat aside.

Odasaku: Hey, sorry I haven’t been texting, I’ve been busy. I moved into a new place.

Odasaku: [attached: 1 pin]

Odasku: Here’s my new address. You should come by tonight. I managed to clean up the place.

You blushed at his invitation, swiping a lock of hair behind your ear. You quickly texted him back.

(Y/N): Yeah! Sure, sounds good! I’m off at 5.

Odasaku: Great. I’ll leave the door unlocked. :)

“ Oi! (Y/N)!!!,” a fellow redhead let out a loud exasperated sigh,” The hell are you doing running out like that?”

“ He texted me,” you responded.

“ No way,” Chuuya’s tone turned serious as he quickly gathered next to you, peaking over your shoulder. He was silent for a second as he read the line of messages. “ Did you say ‘yes’?!,” he yelled out as he pointed at your reply back. You leaned away, as he was practically yelling in your ear.

“ Y-yeah…,” you shuttered, hiding into yourself” Listen! It’s fine! We’re just going to hang out for a bit. Nothing more…”

“ (Y/N), you know that ‘texting your ex’ means that you’re both going to hook up, right?,” Chuuya seemed rather unamused as he joined you, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

“ It’s… not a bad… idea…?,” you sounded unsure as you continued on,” Yeah- Nothing bad, we’re just going to talk… like old friends.”

“ I do not believe you for one bit, (Y/N),” Chuuya replied sharply,” Are you kidding? That man was everything to you! I remember you practically sprinting out the door after executive meetings just because of him.”

“ We can be friends!,” you tried to convince Chuuya, but he seemed to not be taking any of it.

“ You’ve been texting each other ever since you broke up! He only stopped because he moved into a new place! He wants you to be the first one to be there!!!,” Chuuya was waving his arms about, pacing back and forth as he tried to point out the obvious to you.

“ You don’t know that,” you frowned,” Maybe he invited Dazai to see it first…”

“ Dazai’s been in Nagasaki…! For the past three days!!!,” he yelled back, before letting out another sigh, adjusting his hat,” You really stopped paying attention in the executive meetings, haven’t you?”

“ They’re boring! You know that too!,” you yelled back at him.

“ They are, but aren’t you supposed to be around Ane-san’s level of authority?!”

“ That’s Verlaine’s job! I’m doing like half of his goddamn work!”

“ Verlaine won’t leave the fucking basement!!!”

Chuuya let out another sigh, but this time, the tension seemed to leave his shoulders,” Anyways, regardless… If your head is full of rocks, he’s trying to hook up with you, idiot.” Before you could speak back, he placed a hand on your shoulder,” Don’t act like you’re not thinking that too! I just don’t like seeing you get hurt! It doesn’t look good on you…! Just tell him you have a change of plans.”

Normally anyone would feel a little bit upset at his words, but Chuuya’s intentions and what he was saying was right. He just had an awful habit of replacing that way that he cares with anger. You sighed,” Fine… I’ll tell him.”

“ Good. I mean- I don’t care!,” Chuuya crossed his arms,” Let’s go get ramen, I’m hungry!”

…

It was past lunch now and you were typing up a report on your computer. You hadn’t actually texted Oda… if at all. If anything, according to him, your plans were still on. As you were about to hit submit on a PDF, your phone rang again, and as if planned, you picked it up.

Odasaku: Don’t worry about bringing anything. I’ll take care of all of that, so you can just show up. How does 7 sound?

Yet again, you felt your heart beat fast… What did he mean by “bringing things”? Was he really going to hook up with you? Ah, fuck it, you thought.

(Y/N): I’ll be there!

“ (Y/N),” It was Chuuya… again,” Did you get that report so I can read over it?”

You quickly slammed your phone down,” Y-yup! I was just about to send it right now!”

You were hiding behind a pick monitor, so all Chuuya could see was your head from behind the large screen. However, it was pretty obvious to him that you were on your phone.

“ Have you been texting him?,” Chuuya frowned once more, leaning on one hip and crossing his arms.

“ Nope… All good. Mori called,” you made up a quick excuse, pressing down on your mouse to hit send.

“ I just saw Mori,” he raised a brow.

“ God! Stop being so good at figuring things out, Chuuya!!!,” you slammed your hands on your desk and stood up with an angry expression.

“ Hey, I’m just saying the facts here,” Chuuya sung,” I guess I can’t really tell you what to do, so here…”

Chuuya walked up to you, digging into his pocket to pull out his wallet. His fingers slipped in between the pockets and as he pulled them out, there was a condom in between his fingers. He handed it to you. A blush crept up on your face as you almost looked at it with disgust.

“ Hey, stop looking it like you’ve never seen one before,” Chuuya commented, shoving his hand more forwards for you to take it,” Take it.”

You did so, taking it front his hands and putting it in your front pocket,” I’m just surprised you have one… in your wallet.”

“ I just have it… just in case,” a blush also seemed to creep up on his face.

“ In case for what?,” you frowned.

Chuuya seemed not to answer you, as he quickly stammered out the door.

…

God this was such a bad idea…

Such a bad idea…

You really shouldn’t be here…

You were clutching the collar of your sweater nervously. You weren’t wearing anything different, though at least a little bit more casual. You had a white button up, tucked into some slacks and a black cardigan that was buttoned on top of that. It seemed casual, but underneath you made it a point to wear underwear that looked nice… and matched. Just as you were about to knock, Oda opened his door.

“ Oh- hey!,” you smiled shyly.

“ Sorry, my ability told me that you were here… I guess I’ve just been wanting to see you,” Oda greeted, running a hand through his hair. You missed his face… the deadpan expression that he always had, yet his eyes were always telling of what he was really feeling.

“ Yeah… I’ve missed you too,” you said, feeling happy that your feelings were being reciprocated. At least you weren’t the only one who was lying alone in bed, feeling lonely.

“ Come inside,” he opened the door wider for you to walk in. You looked around, seeing the nice fairy lights that were hung on the ceiling. They seemed to be the main source of light. The apartment was well furbished: instead of tatami, there was nice wooded flooring. The kitchen looked brand new, and most is not everything looked really clean. You looked over at a couch: there were two beer bottles there, though not pre-opened. Oda always made it a point to be respectful, and so you were thankful for that. You were glad this was all he meant by “bringing things”.

“ Sorry, it’s not much,” he sighed from behind you as you took your seat on the couch. He handed you a bottle opener and you corked open the bottle with a satisfying pop. He took a seat on the couch as well, across from you, but leaving distance.

“ No, don’t worry,” you reassured him,” This was pretty much all I was hoping for.”

Oda hummed, looking over at you with a rare smile. Although it wasn’t a very big smile, he usually never showed that to just anyone. You took a swig of your beer.

“ How’s work been?,” he spoke up.

“ It’s been good. Nothing too interesting I guess. You?”

“ Same as usual.”

It got quiet again, as the two of you were just watching whatever was going on the TV. Despite not talking, you didn’t feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. Maybe he just wanted to offer a calm space for you after work… nothing mo-

“ (Y/N)… ,” Oda’s voice seemed to boom in your ears, completely interrupting your thoughts. You turned over to see that he had scooted closer and was now leaning over you with a rather desperate expression. However, you let it happen as he leaned closer to you, his hot breathe fanning over your mouth.

“ I’ve missed you…,” he groaned. His beer was out of his hands, as his fingers gently traced past your arm to place yours on the coffee table. You leaned back, letting him do what he wanted.

“ I-I’ve… I’ve missed you too,” you responded shyly. Though, you couldn’t help but want to close the gap between the two of you, placing your lips gently on his. He returned the kiss, though not before letting out a groan in return. He kissed back passionately, taking in your scent as he leaned on top of you. You let out a moan as you felt his stubble scratch you. It was a familiar feeling, one that you often found comfort in, as you body started to relax.

Oda quickly pulled back, his face going red,” S-sorry… I’ve just been desperate.”

“ I’ve been desperate for you too,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in once again,” I mean… I’ve been checking my phone all the time. I can’t get you off my mind.”

“ You… have…?,” he asked, a little breathless. You nodded,” Yeah… Just kiss me already, Odasaku.”

He quickly smashed his lips into yours, a lot more rougher than before. His tongue prodded at your mouth, and you gladly let him intertwine his own with you. You couldn’t help but moan again, your hips bucking to meet his. He pulled away from the kiss, a trail of saliva coming from both of your mouths. He gently trailed kisses on your jaw to your neck. You whined, leaning your head back to give him more access to your neck.

“ F-fuck…,” you had felt overly sensitive after not being touched in a while. His kisses felt so soft… so warm as he started on your neck. He sucked in, earning a moan from you. You felt his lips curl into a soft grin as he pulled away slightly, prodding his nose to the other side of your neck,” Let me mark you up, baby.”

“ Please…!,” you whined as he sunk his teeth into the other side. His biting was harsh, yet he seemed to be please as he watched the mark bruise into your skin. He kept marking you up until you were a moaning mess. The heat between your thighs getting hotter. Oda gripped under your lower back, as he left another mark, your chest being pushed into his as he placed a leg in between yours. He’d left a couple more before sitting up.

“ Let’s move to the bedroom?,” he asked, looking at you as you nodded. “ Are you… ok with that?,” he asked, seemingly unsure. You nodded again, but he shook his head, silently asking for your spoken consent.

“ Yes, I consent to this, ‘Saku,” you smiled. He couldn’t tell if it was from the way you looked so beautiful in your disheveled state: shirt slightly unbuttoned and untucked, hair a mess and a red flush on your face, but he couldn’t help but feel himself want even more of you.

He stood up, taking your hand and guiding you to his bedroom.

…

That was about an hour now… and it seemed as though the time before had been a blur as you were drooling, face pushing into the sheets as he was ramming his cock into you. His hands were roughly pushing into your hips as he pushing you further into the mattress.

“ Fuck… I missed your body,” he leaned down, his hips rolling as he stayed inside. He was so thick… and warm. You felt yourself feeling like you were being split open.

“ So pretty…,” Oda kissed your shoulder, his stubble leaving a a lovely sting to you,” So pliable and soft.”

“ O-oda… ‘saku- Ngh..!,” you moaned out,” A-ah!”

You felt… so full, and you couldn’t help but only feel yourself get more wet at the lewd sounds of skin slapping. His dick was pounding into you at this point, and you’d started to feel your sore spot being hit. That only increased the lewd moans that you let out as he slammed his hips into yours again. You felt fingers tilt your chin upwards, you were now looking up.

“ Open your mouth,” he demanded. You did so, sticking your tongue out. He spat into it, making you instantly swallow. You couldn’t help but only feel turned on from that. Soon enough, as he continued to desperately rut into you, your heat started to build up in your stomach. You racked your brain trying to think of words to say, but all you could let out was desperate syllables. Oda groaned at how cock-drunk he’s made you, speaking was so hard, and all you could think about was being a good cock sleeve for him.

“ ‘Saku…! Mm! Gonna cum…!,” you moaned, you hips bucking into his hips more, feeling his thick cock hit your sore spot once again.

“ Cum f’me…,” he demanded, reaching his high as much as you were. You were a complete mess as you reached your orgasm, your release leading you to shake under him. You whined as you finished cumming together, as you felt him pull out. He let out a soft breathe, as he took off the condom, tied it, and threw it in the trash. He rolled over next to you, pulling you into his chest.

You blushed as you felt his fast heartbeat thud against your hear. You gently pet your hair, calming you down from your high. You did so, taking deep breathes as you curled into his chest. He was warm…

“ You ok?,” Oda gently asked, taking a hand under your chin to look at you.

“ Yes. I’m alright,” you replied. You leaned up to kiss his chin, something you did often after intimate times like these. Oda hummed gently,” Ok, tell me if you need anything… Or if you want a round two.”

You chuckled, pushing his chest away jokingly,” I’m way too sensitive right now.”

“ Joking joking,” Oda’s voiced, as he pulled you closer to him once again. You leaned your ear back on his chest, closing your eyes for a moment.

…

The next day, you showed up to work in a turtleneck, which wasn’t in your usual work attire. You thought it’d be normal: considering that most mafioso wore heavy layers with dark colors. A turtleneck was nothing to bat an eye about, so it would’ve been fine.

Well… it would’ve been fine…

If you didn’t have an executive meeting this morning… and guess who so happened to come out of the basement.

… and it just so happened to be on this day.

You actually had no real qualms with Verlaine. You’d been away from most of the crises that involved him to even join the Port Mafia in the first place. All you knew was that you were given most of his work load considering that he never left the basement. Though, one things for sure, he had a rather stern stare. One that almost made you want to hide away forever: to put short, he intimidated you.

You were trailing behind Verlaine as you were crouched down next to Chuuya, practically hiding behind his shoulder.

“ Did he hear us back-talking him from all the way at the Port,” you muttered. “ Oooh~ someone’s in trouble~,” It was Dazai, who’d finally made his return from Nagasaki. He was creeping over you from your other shoulder.

Chuuya placed a hand on Dazai’s head, hitting him with some amount of force,” Can it, Dazai! He’s only here because we need him for something. It’s not like that.”

“ Eh…? I was talking about (Y/N) over here,” Dazai reached over to your turtleneck, pulling at the tall collar and taking a glance.

“ Hey!,” you slapped his hand away.

“ Oh…?,” Dazai’s smile seemed to turn into almost a cat-like grin,” So I see, (Y/N)’s been gettin’ around.”

“ Don’t look!,” you swiped Dazai away with an arm,” It’s none of your business anyways.”

Soon enough, the door opened, revealing Mori who’d had a long meeting table set up. Kouyou was already seated on Mori’s right side, and you and the others followed through.

“ It’s good to see you all,” Mori smiled, looking around as everyone had been seated. The doors closed behind them all and an ambient light shown above the table,” Verlaine, it’s good to see you come out to get some fresh air for once.”

“ I’m only here for information’s sake, nothing more.”

Mori nodded, about to continue, but before he did, his eyes scanned towards you.

“ Ah, (Y/N), a turtleneck? That’s new,” Mori seemed to intentionally say it as a compliment, but that didn’t stop Dazai from letting out a soft snicker under his breathe. Chuuya kicked him under the table however, the bandaged man letting out a yelp.

It’s times like this where you wish you weren’t here, being an executive… with this room of people… and these specific people…

God, maybe I’m not fit for being an executive, you thought, sinking further into your chair.

…

Well, if there was anything to make all of those stressful thoughts go up in smoke, it was Oda who was currently breathing heavily in between your legs. You were laying down into the comforter, the plush pillows supporting your back as you looked down at him. Oda’s lips gently kisses at your thighs. His warm lips continued to kiss up your thighs and eventually met at your entrance. He gently kissed there, looking up at your flustered expression.

His hot breathe pulled away before licking up your clothed entrance. You moaned,” Ngh.. Ah- ‘Saku please…” Oda seemed to grin a little bit as he licked a thick stripe once again. You shuttered under his hold, and he hummed, seemingly pleased at your reaction. Soon enough, his calloused but gently hands trailed up you legs, pulling down your underwear and leaving you naked from underneath.

“ So wet and pretty for me, already?,” he teased. You were about to respond before you let out a loud moan as he dived his tongue onto you. He licked you up and down, making you moan once more. One of your hands reached to grip onto the sheets as he proceeded to eat you out like a starved man. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes back further as you sunk into the mattress.

As he lapped at your lower half, you were slowly started to loose consistency in your breathe. Eventually he’d grown more desperate, the vibrations of his throat making you whine. His hand reached out to your empty one, and you took it as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Your other hand that was gripping at the sheets covered your face as you moaned louder,” I-I’m gonna cum. F-fuck…!”

Oda only seemed to want more, licking up you even more desperately than before. Soon enough, you reached your orgasm. He groaned in response, taking in all of your juices as you squirted. He finished up, wiping his chin as he sat back up.

“ Already…?,” he grinned at you.

…

It was the end of another session, and you were pulled into Oda’s chest once more. The two of you were rather exhausted as you’d gone more than one round, and so you both fully relaxed into the sheets. You were now drawing patterns on his chest as he was slowly drifting in and out of sleep. He tried to keep himself up however, only wanting to shut his eyes when you were sound asleep.

“ Say ‘Saku,” you pouted, continuing to draw patterns,” What are we?”

“ What do you mean?,” he raised a brow, the sleepiness seeming to fall away from his mind.

“ Are we together… or are we just friends,” you seemed to be rather melancholy as you asked.

“ I thought we were together, already,” he answered honestly,” Didn’t I ask you?” “ Eh…?”

“ I asked you when I was on top of you just a couple minutes ago.”

“ I wouldn’t remember that when you’re ramming me into your own bed!!!,” you sat up, frowning.

Oda sat up as well, placing his hands up in defense,” I thought we’d made up already.”

You looked at him questionably. However, after a moment, you realized it was Oda Sakunosuke you were talking to. A question was a question… and if he happened to ask it at an odd time, well… his intentions were genuine.

“ Well- we did, but- Do you love me?”

“ Of course I love you,” he answered with no hesitation.

“ Oh, whatever,” you sighed, flopping onto him with no though. He fell back down on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. Once again, he was warm… and you started to feel sleepy.

“ Sorry if I asked at a weird time.”

“ You’re always like that, Odasaku… but, that’s what I love about you.”

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warabidakihime · 1 year

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Evermore in Your Arms

Characters: Chuuya x Reader

Synopsis: Love is not just about being with someone when everything is perfect, but standing by their side even when life gets difficult. It's about choosing to hold them close, no matter what, and feeling their warm embrace evermore.

A/N: here's a thank you gift for the explosive support Love's Melancholy Farewell and A Love Discovered in the Darkest of Times! i was genuinely blown away by the reactions it got, so thank you so much! this will be the third and final installment of this fic, so enjoy!

If you haven't read the first two parts, here they are with links:

Love's Melancholy Farewell

A Love Discovered in the Darkest of Times

Enjoy!

It had been a few weeks since Chuuya and you had officially gotten back together. You had spent the first few days simply enjoying each other's company, basking in the feeling of being together again. Since then, your relationship has blossomed and grown stronger than ever before.

Chuuya had surprised you by suggesting you move in together like old times. At first, you were hesitant, worried that it might be too soon. But Chuuya had been persistent, and in the end, you agreed. You had spent hours packing up your things and moving into a luxurious penthouse in the heart of Yokohama.

As esteemed executives and basically the current right-hand men of Mori Ougai, the two of you are pretty well-off, and so you spared no expense in creating your dream home.

Your intimacy had also grown in leaps and bounds. You were still exploring each other's bodies, learning what the other liked and didn't like. You had shared your deepest secrets, and you had never felt closer to anyone before. When you made love, it was like the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you together. You were each other's escape from the stressful and dangerous world you lived in, and you treasured every moment you had together.

As per usual, the Port Mafia was always bustling with activity and chaos as members went about their daily business and missions. Chuuya and you were often at the center of it all as two of the highest-ranking executives in the organization. On a typical day, you would wake up early and head to the headquarters to attend meetings and discuss business with Mori Ougai. Chuuya often grumbled about the early mornings and the endless paperwork, but you always kept him in line, reminding him of the importance of your duties.

Maintaining a relationship in the Port Mafia was never an easy feat. There was always the risk of danger, the threat of betrayal, and the constant pressure to maintain appearances. That's why Chuuya and you kept your relationship as discreet as possible, even when you were with other people in the past. When you were with Dazai, you had to be careful not to let your true feelings show. You couldn't risk anyone finding out about your secret romance, especially not Mori, because who knows what could have happened if he ever found out. So you kept things strictly professional whenever you were in public.

At first, it was difficult to keep your love a secret. You longed to be close to each other, to hold hands and steal kisses whenever you could. But you knew the risks, and you were willing to do whatever it took to protect each other.

You would sneak away during meetings and steal moments of intimacy in secluded corners of the headquarters. You would send secret messages to each other, using coded language to hide your true intentions.

In between missions, you went on dates, exploring new places in the city and trying out different restaurants. You had always enjoyed trying new things, and Chuuya was more than happy to indulge your sense of adventure. He was just as eager to explore and find new hobbies himself. One of them is playing laser tag. You also had gone to see movies, taken long walks in the park, and even rented a yacht and enjoyed a nice romantic date by the sea.

It wasn't easy, but you managed to keep your relationship hidden for a while. You knew that if anyone found out, it would mean trouble not just for you but for the entire Port Mafia.

But as time went on, your love for each other only grew stronger. You became each other's support system and your anchor in the stormy seas of the criminal underworld. You knew that the dangers you faced every day were nothing compared to the power of your love.

However, as the saying goes, no secret can remain hidden forever.

One day, when Tachihara rushed to Chuuya’s office to give him an update regarding a mission they did a while back, he caught Chuuya and you in a compromising position and couldn't resist teasing you about your relationship. He was clearly overjoyed and amused that two of his closest friends were in a relationship and, by extension, fucking each other's brains out in either of your respective offices, but most of the time you would do the deed at Chuuya's office. Word quickly spread throughout the organization, and even Mori Ougai eventually found out about your romance.

To everyone's surprise, Mori Ougai wasn't too bothered by it. In fact, he even joked about it during one of the meetings, saying that Chuuya and your love life was more interesting than the latest mission report. Tachihara and Kaji snickered at the remark but were reprimanded by Hirotsu. Meanwhile, Chuuya and you simply exchanged a knowing glance and continued with the meeting. It was definitely a daunting experience to explain and come clean to everyone about your relationship, so much so that it has become a core memory to you. Thankfully, it went smoothly, and everything is well, and it showed in your most recent mission, taking down the Guild.

In the aftermath of the city's near-destruction, the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency collaborated seamlessly to thwart the despicable plan of the Guild. Chuuya, Dazai, and you played pivotal roles in leading your team to success, while Atsushi and Akutagawa's formidable tag team highlighted a synergy of strengths and weaknesses.

Though Chuuya and Dazai hadn't collaborated in years, their reunion for this mission, while initially marked by resentment, saw them seamlessly fall back into their old dynamic. A mutual respect resurfaced as they flawlessly completed their task.

Chuuya, rightfully upset with Dazai for his past betrayal and the pain he inflicted on you, acknowledged their shared history. He, in his own way, assured Dazai that he would take care of you and even indulged him on the information that you're doing well, subtly noting the detective's softened reaction—it was a confirmation to the red head that his former partner is still very much in love with you.

As Chuuya observed Dazai's softened response, memories of your shared past flooded his mind. He recalled the complicated web of emotions that entangled you and Dazai during your time navigating the treacherous waters of the Port Mafia. It was a period of shared laughter, whispered confidences, and inevitable heartbreak. The bitterness of those memories lingered, alongside the realization that he had stepped into the void Dazai left behind.

Chuuya, with his rough edges and fierce loyalty, became the one who ultimately won your heart. The journey from friends to lovers bore its scars—challenges, misunderstandings, and healing.

Recognizing the significance of the moment with Dazai, Chuuya's focus remained steadfast on the present and the future he aimed to build with you. The acknowledgment of Dazai's sentiments served as a poignant reminder of the winding path that brought them to this point—a point where Chuuya was the one by your side, the one who had earned your heart and trust.

Despite the echoes of the past, Chuuya's determination to move forward with you prevailed. He channeled his understanding into strengthening the bond you two shared.

As the city gradually returned to its usual bustle and activity, Chuuya and you resumed your daily routine, working closely with the Mafia. Despite the chaos and danger faced, a sense of accomplishment prevailed. You had proven your worth and loyalty to the Mafia, and your bond had only grown stronger as a result.

And with the chaos gone and the waiting game for the next disaster to happen, you and Chuuya had been looking forward to spending some quality time together, and so you went on a date a couple of times in the past few days. And during work days, you try to find as much time as you can to spend time together like hanging in each other’s office; like right now with you chilling at Chuuya’s office and as you unwind together, things led from one thing to another, and now you’re in each other’s personal bubble, getting as much quality time as you can but your plans were abruptly interrupted by Hirotsu's sudden knock on the door.

The two of you quickly scrambled to compose themselves, but you couldn't resist being a little playful and cheeky, your hand finding its way under the desk and onto Chuuya's lap. The redhead felt his heart racing as your hand began to move, your playful advances making it hard for him to focus on the task at hand. He tried to push aside his thoughts and focus on Hirotsu's briefing, but your touch was too distracting.

As Hirotsu began to go over the details of the upcoming raid mission, Chuuya found himself struggling to concentrate. He could feel your hand and tongue moving, your touch sending shivers down his spine. He tried to stifle a moan, but it escaped his lips, and he couldn't help but wonder if Hirotsu could hear it.

Chuuya's mind was racing as the briefing continued. He was trying his best to stay focused on the briefing, but the pleasure you were giving him made it difficult to concentrate.

"Chuuya-kun, are you listening?" Hirotsu asked, noticing Chuuya's distracted demeanor.

Chuuya's heart raced as he quickly composed himself and nodded. "Yes, of course. Continue, Hirotsu-san," he said, hoping that Hirotsu wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

Meanwhile, you were still teasing Chuuya under the table, your fingers tracing light circles on his thighs and wrapping your lips around his cock, your tongue teasing the tip and licking the pre-cum. You could feel him growing harder by the second, and you couldn't resist but to increase your pace.

Chuuya let out a soft gasp, biting down on his lower lip to keep from moaning. He felt your hot breath on his skin, and he couldn't help but squirm in his seat.

"Chuuya-kun, are you sure you're alright?" Hirotsu asked with a concerned look on his face.

The mafia executive cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired," he said, hoping that Hirotsu would buy his excuse.

You giggled softly, knowing that Chuuya was lying through his teeth. You continued your ministrations, your hand moving faster as you felt Chuuya getting closer to the edge.

Chuuya's breaths became ragged, his fingers gripping the armrests of his chair. He couldn't take it anymore, and he knew he was about to come. He silently prayed that Hirotsu wouldn't notice anything amiss.

But just as Chuuya was about to let go, Hirotsu suddenly stood up from his chair, signaling the end of the meeting.

"Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow for the final preparations," Hirotsu said, bowing before he left the room.

Chuuya let out a sigh of relief, his body shaking as he tried to regain his composure. He looked down at you, his face misty with sweat and his Adam's apple bobbing with thirst.

"That was close," he whispered, his voice still shaky from the pleasure.

You grinned mischievously, crawling out from under the table. "Oops?"

Chuuya mimicked you and playfully rolled his eyes while standing up from his seat. He then walked towards the door and locked it shut.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice low.

Chuuya turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I think you know what I'm doing," he said, his hands reaching for your waist.

You laughed, a sultry sound that sent a shiver down Chuuya's spine. "I like where this is going," you said, your hands sliding up his chest.

“Aren’t you enjoying this a tad bit too much? Have I not satiated your hunger already?" he said with a smirk.

You laughed. "Can you blame me? You were looking so handsome and professional. It's a rare sight to see."

Chuuya chuckled, his hungry eyes fixated on you. "You're such a tease,"

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered, "Guilty as charged. You should punish me, Nakahara Chuuya-san."

Chuuya's lips curled up into a mischievous smile as he led you to a corner and pressed you up against the wall, his hands trailing down the curves of your body. "You always know just how to get under my skin," he murmured into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

Your hands found their way into Chuuya's hair, pulling him so close that you felt his cock twitch from his pants, desperate to be let free. "And you love it," you whispered back, your voice heavy with desire.

Chuuya's hands trailed lower, gripping your thighs as he lifted you up and carried you over to his desk. He set you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to kiss you deeply.

You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in Chuuya's hair as he trailed kisses down your neck, his hands exploring every inch of your body. "Chuuya," you gasped, your voice thick with need. "I need you."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Anything for you," he whispered before capturing your lips again in a heated kiss.

Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, hungrily exploring every inch of skin. The room was filled with the sounds of your soft moans and the rustling of clothing as you frantically stripped each other.

You pulled Chuuya closer, feeling his hardness press against your thigh. "Please," you begged. "I need you now."

Chuuya lifted you up and positioned himself at your entrance before slowly sliding inside of you. You let out a gasp as he filled you completely, the sensation causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you.

"You feel so good," Chuuya groaned, his breath coming in short gasps as he moved inside you. Your nails dug into Chuuya's back as you cried out in pleasure, the sensations coursing through your body almost too much to bear. "Chuuya," you moaned, your eyes locked with his.

You moved together in perfect sync, lost in the moment and consumed by the intensity of your passion. Chuuya's hands were everywhere, holding you close and guiding your movements as you moved towards the peak of your pleasure.

"Y/N," he moaned as he buried himself deep inside of you. "I love yo–ohh, fuck."

You cried out his name as you shattered around him, your body convulsing with pleasure. Chuuya followed soon after, his body shaking as he spilled inside of you.

The two of you quickly got lost in your passion, forgetting about everything else around you. You knew that you needed this moment of release, a chance to forget about your worries and responsibilities, even if it was just for a little while.

Chuuya and you lay tangled in each other's arms on his office couch, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Chuuya pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and you smiled up at him.

"Another day at the office," you said, laughing softly.

Chuuya grinned and pulled you closer. "Just another day with you," he replied, his voice filled with affection.

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling content and happy. You may be feared executives of the Port Mafia and, quite literally, the boss' current right-hand men, but when you were together, you were just two people madly and feverishly in love.

It was well into the night, the moon casting its enchanting glow over the city, when the decision was made to leave the Port Mafia headquarters and call it a day. Walking together in a companionable silence, Chuuya led you to his car, your hands naturally intertwined. During the drive home, a profound sense of contentment washed over you.

Being with Chuuya had a way of making everything feel right in the world.

Upon reaching your shared penthouse, Chuuya skillfully unlocked the door and ushered you inside. As soon as you crossed the threshold, he pulled you into his arms, your bodies melding together in a heated embrace. "I can't get enough of you," he confessed, his lips barely brushing against yours.

You responded with a smile, a sultry chuckle escaping your lips as your hands luxuriously ran through his hair. "I feel the same way," you murmured dreamily, deepening the kiss with an unspoken understanding.

Chuuya and you lay intertwined in bed, your bodies sated and your minds at peace. The night had been spent making love, an inability to keep your hands off each other resulting in this tranquil aftermath, with only the gentle rhythm of your breathing filling the room.

"You know," Chuuya said, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Today was supposed to be a relaxing day, but it turned out to be anything but."

You laughed, rolling over to face him. "I wouldn't have it any other way," you said, your fingers tracing along the contours of his face. "It's always an adventure with you, Chuuya."

Chuuya grinned, his hand finding its way to your waist. "Well, get used to it, because I plan on keeping you on your toes," he said, pulling you close.

For a while, you lay there in a state of peaceful contentment, lost in your own thoughts. Chuuya gazed up at the ceiling, his mind wandering while his fingers idly played with the strands of your hair.

As the night grew colder, he noticed you shivering slightly. Without a word, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your body against his. The warmth of your bodies mingled, creating a cocoon of heat that chased away the chill of the night. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and secure in his arms, even more so while listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting sound that soothed your nerves and brought you peace.

You turned to Chuuya with a curious expression on your face. "Chuuya, can I ask you something?" you said.

"Of course," he replied, tracing circles on your back.

"Do you ever think about leaving the Port Mafia?" you asked, your voice soft.

Chuuya was taken aback by your question. He had never really thought about leaving the Port Mafia before. It had always been a part of his life, and he had always assumed it would be until the day he died.

"Why do you ask?" he said, sitting up slightly to look at you.

You shrugged, your eyes searching his. "I don't know," you said. "I just feel like there's more to life than this. Don't you ever want to see what's out there? Have a quiet life somewhere?"

Chuuya considered your words for a moment. He had never really thought about it before, but now that you brought it up, he couldn't help but wonder. The Port Mafia was all he knew, but he couldn't deny that the idea of leaving it behind and starting fresh somewhere else was appealing.

"I guess I've never really thought about it," he said finally. "But the idea of a quiet life somewhere does sound nice."

You smiled, your eyes sparkling. "I know, right?" you said. "Just imagine - waking up every morning to a peaceful life with no worries or stress."

Chuuya chuckled, the idea of a stress-free life seeming almost foreign to him. "I don't know if I could handle a life like that," he said. "I'm so used to the chaos of the Mafia."

You shrugged. "Maybe we could find a middle ground," you said. "Somewhere where we could still have a little excitement but also have some peace and quiet."

Chuuya considered your words, the idea of a compromise seeming more and more appealing. "I like the sound of that," he said, his hand reaching out to stroke your hair.

Chuuya snuggled up to you, his arms around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers absentmindedly traced circles on his bare chest, the silence between you two comfortable.

Suddenly, you grew quiet, lost in your thoughts. Chuuya couldn't help but worry, so he lifted his head and looked at you. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly.

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at him. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking," you said, a hint of hesitation in your voice.

"About what?"

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with an unspoken emotion. "Chuuya," you began tentatively, "What do you think about marriage?"

Chuuya's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected that question, especially not from you, who had never mentioned anything about marriage before. "Marriage?" he repeated, unsure of what to say.

You nodded. "Yeah, like...getting married and starting a family. What do you think?"

Chuuya's mind raced as he considered the idea. On the one hand, he had always thought that marriage and family were impossible for someone like him, a member of the Port Mafia who lived a dangerous and unpredictable life. But on the other hand, he couldn't deny that the thought of spending the rest of his life with you, creating a life and a family together, was a tempting prospect.

Now, also in deep thought, Chuuya thought very carefully about his response: "That does sound promising. But let's be real here, Y/N. We're both part of the Port Mafia. Our lives are far from ordinary, let alone stable. The very nature of our work is dangerous and unpredictable. Marriage and family are not something that comes easily for us."

You nodded, understanding the weight of the decision. "I know it's not going to be easy, but sometimes I can't help but think about it," you said, your voice soft and wistful. "A life where we can be together without having to worry about our safety all the time."

Chuuya reached out to brush a lock of hair out of your face. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice equally soft. "But we're not like other couples. We have a lot of obstacles to overcome if we want to make this work."

You nodded again. "I know. But just the idea of it...it gives me hope. A new dream, you know?"

Chuuya smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at your words. "Yeah," he said, "I know."

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I just had this sudden thought of us getting married. Maybe it's because we talked about starting a new life somewhere peaceful."

Chuuya nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. I won't deny that the thought of us getting married hasn't crossed my mind before. But, like I said, we have a long way to go. We're not even sure what tomorrow brings. Let's take it one step at a time, and then maybe, one day, we can make all of our dreams happen."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You knew that your path was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew you could face whatever came your way.

“Oh, and by the way, when I say about starting a family, I meant four-legged babies with fur. I don’t want actual children.”

Chuuya let out a hearty chuckle, “Yeah? Well, given our line of work and I guess our upbringings, we’re not actually fit to be parents.”

“Yeah, and call me selfish, but I only want you for myself. Though I don’t mind sharing you with a cute cat.”

“I don’t like sharing you with anyone or anything.” Chuuya confessed to which you responded by snuggling closer to Chuuya, and then you felt an overwhelming surge of love for him. You suddenly wanted to express your feelings in a meaningful way, and an idea came to your mind.

With your arms tightly wrapped around him, you began to speak softly, your voice trembling slightly with nervousness.

"I vow to love you with all my heart and soul, to be your partner and your friend for all time. I promise to stand by you through thick and thin, to support you when you're down, and to celebrate your victories with you. I promise to cherish every moment we spend together, to make you laugh, and to hold you close when you need comfort."

You paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, before continuing.

"I vow to be your equal in all things, to challenge you and inspire you, and to never hold you back or weigh you down. I promise to be your partner in all things, to share your dreams and your passions, and to stand beside you as we build a life together."

Chuuya looked at you, slightly taken aback by your sudden declaration of love. As you continued, he couldn't help but feel a little flustered by your sweet words.

You paused again, your heart racing with emotion as you gazed into Chuuya's eyes. You felt a warm glow spreading through your body, a sense of contentment and happiness that only he could bring.

"I vow to be your rock, your shelter, and your safe haven in the storm. I promise to be there for you, to lift you up when you're feeling low, and to never let you go. I vow to be your love, your light, and your soulmate forevermore."

Chuuya couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at your last statement. He had never heard you be so mushy before, and he was both moved and amused by your words.

He sat up, pulling you up with him, your bodies entwined beneath the sheets. As the duvet slipped, your nude bodies were briefly exposed to the cool air, sending shivers down your spines.

But it was the look in Chuuya's eyes that made you shiver the most. They were filled with such intense love and emotion, it was as if they were staring straight into your soul. And in that moment, you knew that you were completely his, heart and soul.

Your lips met once more, igniting a passion that almost brought you both to tears. It was a love that words could not describe, a connection that was beyond physical. As you kissed, you could feel Chuuya's love for you pouring out of him, his hands gripping you tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

As you pulled away, Chuuya's eyes were misty with unshed tears. "I love you so much," he said frantically, as if he couldn't contain the overwhelming emotions that were welling up inside of him. "You're everything to me—my world, my heart. I can't imagine my life without you."

And in that moment, you knew that you loved him more than anything in the world. You were two halves of the same soul, bound together in an unbreakable love that would withstand the test of time.

As the sun started to rise on the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room, Chuuya and you lay tangled in each other's arms. You had come a long way, from the pain of your heartbreak at the hands of Dazai to the fragility of your initial relationship. But despite all the challenges you faced, your love endured and prevailed.

Like two shooting stars that had been separated, you found your way back to each other. Your love grew stronger with every passing day, until it shone brighter than the sun itself. You had overcome obstacles that once seemed insurmountable, but your bond had only grown stronger for it.

Now, as you lay together, gazing into each other's eyes, you spoke of the future. Of growing old together, of a love that would stand the test of time. Your resolve was unwavering, and your love unbreakable and everlasting.

And as you held each other, you knew that your love would endure for all eternity, shining as brightly as the stars in the sky—so much so that it showed in your faces as you caught some much-needed sleep.

Bonus Chapter: Tempting Twilights and Celestial Nights

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thepiratearcinhamlet · 3 years

Text

Dead Apple Explanation:

Part Two: Dragon Head Conflict

---------

WARNING. If you do NOT want spoilers, then please do not keep reading. :)

Understanding what happened during the Dragon Head Conflict is key to understanding what happens in Dead Apple.

This section is going to be the longest, so bear with me.

6 years ago, (from the present timeline,) the Dragon Head Conflict broke out. It was the bloodiest day in Yokohama's history. Dead Apple starts on the last day of the conflict, Night 87/Day 88, but the Prologue explains the basic layout of the Conflict in pretty good detail. (If you want to skip my summary and just watch the YT videos, link in Part One of my explanation. There are five videos, the longest is 5 and a half minutes.)

What happens is as follows:

An unnamed ability user with a vast fortune died. At this time in Yokohama's history, there were many more rivals and gangs in the city and several different groups moved in to claim the treasure. The treasure eventually became just an excuse for the rival gangs to finally wage all out war on each other, even though they just called it a 'feud'. As the conflict dragged on into days and then weeks, turning bloodier and bloodier, the Special Division of the government decided to hire an ability user named Shibusawa, who became known as the White Dragon. They thought they could use him, but Shibusawa had his own agenda. (Obviously he didn't tell the government that LOL.)

Shibusawa has a many faceted ability - one facet of it allows him to create a mist, the Dragon's Breath, which separates a user from his or her ability. (There are users who are immune/can resist, but more on that later.) The ability will then turn on the user and kill them. (Please note that this mist was NOT the all-encompassing mist we see later in Dead Apple.)

I feel like this is the perfect time to explain a bit about what we know regarding his backstory. He is an incredibly powerful ability user, and incredibly intelligent, as well, predicting people's moves with even more ease than Rampo or Dazai. (Dead Apple makes this scarily obvious.) He is bored with everything: life, death, abilities, etc. One of the few things he couldn't predict was what would happen if he could get an ability that was in direct opposition to his. He was NOT interested in creating and collecting ability gems yet, he just wanted to find his ability's opposite. Like he tells Atsushi near the end of Dead Apple, the opposite ability could possibly show him the strength and tenacity of life, and it would do so by killing him. It was so alive and powerful, that he would enjoy death at its hands. But he wasn't /sure/, because he couldn't find the antithesis of his ability. (This guy is seriously messed up.)

KEEPING ALL THIS IN MIND-

Enter Fyodor. Yes, Fyodor had his hands in it the entire time. You thought Shibusawa was in control? Nooooope. Fyodor is an enigma; he has a lot of agendas going at once, and he's basically on the same intelligence level as Shibusawa. He uses Shibusawa, (a feat in and of itself,) telling him about an ability user locked away in an orphanage. This ability is not fully developed, but incredibly powerful; the rival to Shibusawa. Elated, Shibusawa rushes off to the orphanage. How he manages to torture the abilty user is a mystery - either he snuck him out of the orphanage, or the director of the orphange was just that much of an @#$%^&*!. Regardless, Shibusawa tortured the ability user to try and extract his ability - since it wasn't fully developed, and buried so deep inside the user who had no knowledge that he WAS a user, Shibusawa couldn't separate it with his Dragon's Breath ability, and was forced to use electrocution.

The ability inside the user /was/ the rival to Shibusawa's, and even in it's not-fully-developed state, it activated last-minute to protect its user, turning into a white tiger and slashing through Shibusawa's skull, killing him.

However, Shibusawa's ability was unique. It resided in his skull, and the skull was not destroyed by the white tiger's claws. With a little unexplained Fyodor magic, (seriously, someone explain the many facets of Fyodor's ability already!) Shibusawa was revived, but Fyodor withheld his memories, thereby making it easier for him to continue manipulating Shibusawa without Shibusawa's knowledge. His memories are gone, but Shibusawa does remember his lust for collecting and his boredom with the universe. (He's also basically a spirit in some sort of magical physical body, since his skull was kept separate from him, so he's not going to die conventionally.)

There is a bit of a gap here, as Shibusawa somehow went from being a revived dead spirit dude to being hired by the government, and this is not explained. My guess is Fyodor was involved. Shibusawa was vital to his plan, and this was the perfect time to start putting it in motion. (Fyodor's plan is not important right now, that's for the apple suicide section.) So yeah - let's assume Fyodor somehow got the Special Division to hire Shibusawa. (Asagiri, I know this is not the most important detail, but it would be great if you explained it~)

Fast forward to where we left off with Dragon Head Conflict. We are not sure when in the 88 days of conflict that the government sent out Shibusawa, but it was probably around the middle. During the time he was free to roam the streets, the bloodshed increased. Ability users started dying en masse. Rumors of a "White Dragon" start circulating,

Oda, the mafioso who wouldn't kill anyone and Dazai's friend, went one night to investigate a jewelry store that had been blasted apart. It also doubled as a base of operations for a blackmarket organization known as the Gerhardt Security Services, or GSS. (You'll remember them from the Fifteen Arc.) The place was known to be protected by some extremely dangerous combat ability users. While there, Oda bumps into Shibusawa, who pretends to be investigating the scene of the crime and shows little interest in the deaths of the ability users, saying that people die all the time, especially since there is a war on. (Shibusawa actually was the one who attacked the store himself, stealing the gems for a separate collection of his [normal gems, not ability gems,] and killing all the ability users. His boredom caused him to obsessively collect things, and the loss of his memories amplified it.) Oda asks if he's new here, because the murders make no sense and he /ought/ to be surprised. GSS was one of the few neutral parties in the current feud, and therefore, whoever attacked was a "thrill seeking fool". Oda then speculates that maybe it's the White Dragon's doing, a loose cannon who appeared out of nowhere a few days ago and attacks anyone in any organization, leaving no witnesses. Shibusawa comments that, if there were no witnesses, how would The White Dragon get a name? He then says that if it /is/ the White Dragon's doing, he has no business sticking around. Oda says that he's going to stay because he wants to find out the White Dragon's motive. Shibusawa starts to leave, then says he's going to give Oda a hint to the White Dragon's obvious motive. (Real subtle there, sir.) The answer is pure boredom - perhaps beautiful jewels would awaken feelings inside him. He then leaves, saying that if Oda survives, he'd love to meet up with him again.

Dazai appears shortly afterwards, and Oda tells him what happened. Dazai tells him he is lucky to have survived, since that 'investigator' was the White Dragon himself.

Fast forward to 70 days into the conflict. Chuuya confronts Dazai for napping and subsequently ignoring a call from Mori to attend an important meeting, asking him if he even understands what's going on because this is the biggest gang feud in Yokohama's history. Dazai first teases him, saying he needs to buy a microscope to use on Chuuya because he's so short, then tells him that yes, he does understand. An organization called Strain has had 80% of their members wiped out. Another organization, the Tasake Corps, has had their leader assassinated, sending their gang into chaos. He then rattles off several other organizations who have joined in the bloodshed. Old feuds, paranoia, lust for revenge - the conflict is just an excuse for everyone to lay everything on the table. It will only end with the death of everyone involved. Chuuya yells at him, that he needs to contribute to stopping the death. Dazai comments that rushing headlong into a fight is what everyone else is doing, thereby causing more death and chaos. He says they should leave the strategy of the Port Mafia's part of the war to Mori, the leader of the Port Mafia, and then shifts Chuuya's attention to something else.

Dazai shows him a photo of a corpse of a Port Mafia executive named "The Colonel." Chuuya is in shock that the older man, who had a very powerful ability, could possibly be killed. Dazai tells him it's the White Dragon - the White Dragon's ability is still unknown, but he appears to get stronger with every kill he makes. Chuuya says this war makes the perfect hunting ground to find and kill the White Dragon, and asks Dazai what the plan is to take him down. Dazai says he doesn't plan on hunting him down, and that Chuuya ought to be wondering about who will replace The Colonel as the next executive, especially since they both are potential candidates. Chuuya's temper flares again, and he punches Dazai, telling him he's going after the White Dragon and Dazai can go back to napping until he dies, before storming out. Dazai mumbles "how cruel", but smiles, obviously having more up his sleeve than he let Chuuya on to.

Two days later, Shibusawa is taking a stroll through a ruined section of Yokohama. Despite the bloodshed, a few pedestrians are still around - life must go on. He approaches a street vendor and tries to buy a bouquet of white flowers. The vendor asks him if they're a gift for someone. Shibusawa says yes, that he plans to leave them with his next encounters, as a parting gift. (Seriously, this guy needs to learn the art of SUBTLETY-) The vendor then says she will gift him "this", and pulls out a gun, aiming it at him. The rest of the 'pedestrians' pull out weapons and surround him, much to Shibusawa's surprise. Dazai then appears, telling him that these are the Mafia's best, and he shouldn't resist; this is just the "entertainment before the show". Shibusawa is impressed, and guesses Dazai's identity. Dazai informs Shibusawa that he (Dazai) is "on thin ice" with his partner for "sleeping all the time" and asks Shibusawa to come away with him. Shibusawa asks what will happen if he refuses. Dazai tells him that he was offering to let Shibusawa choose where he dies, but he could just stay there and die right now. He then tells him that he made two miscalculations: First, Shibusawa can't win against Dazai, because Dazai's ability will nullify whatever the White Dragon's ability is. Second, the Port Mafia never works alone - the White Dragon is a One Man Army, and that will always fail.

Shibusawa asks if that's why Dazai joined the mafia, (i.e., being stronger in a group.) Dazai affirms this. Shibusawa tells him that's unfortunate, but Dazai probably feels the same way. He goes on to say that groups are important, likening individuals to threads and a group to a whole cloth. However, if you have one black thread in a white cloth, the cloth is nothing better than ruined trash. (Ouch, much.) Dazai brushes this remark aside, telling him that he will show him no mercy. The White Dragon went too far by killing The Colonel, and Dazai will punish him for it. Shibusawa shrugs, and says that's fine with him, but Dazai will regret it. Dazai denies this with a smirk. But Shibusawa keeps talking.

He tells Dazai that if he kills the White Dragon, the feud will not end. Dazai comments that's a unique way of looking at it. Shibusawa says that only the death of everyone will end the conflict, (echoing Dazai's words to Chuuya two days prior,) unless of course… another feud happens to distract everyone from the original feud. Dazai asks how. Shibusawa tells him that to stop a fire in an oil ring, you set off a bomb.

At that exact moment, an explosion goes off somewhere nearby. Rare shock appears on Dazai's face and he asks where it came from. Shibusawa tells him that no longer is this a feud, but an all-out war, thanks to him. His declaration was just delivered to all the organizations involved. Dazai watches the Mafia Headquarters rise into the sky, confused and still in shock. Shibusawa continues to talk, telling him that he is going to reduce everyone's base to nothing but rubble. Dazai then yells out that no, the mafia headquarters is /falling/. The bomb flew part of the building into the air, and now it's going to crash into the square.

Smug, Shibusawa repeats Dazai's "You made two miscalculations" quote back at him. First, Dazai thought the White Dragon wasn't expecting an ambush. Second, Dazai thought the White Dragon was alone. Supernatural abilities appear out of nowhere, attacking the mafia members in the square.

Dazai's subordinates fall one by one as he watches in horror. Shibusawa casually comments that Dazai was right, superiority in numbers was a splendid idea. He decided to form his own 'group', to help distract him from his boredom.

(What is NOT specified here is if Shibusawa is using his ability, or if he recruited ability users to his side. However, as we know from the beginning of Dead Apple, Shibusawa /did/ have a bunch of people in masks and cloaks and hoods. As to whether he animated them with abilities from deceased ability users, or if they were an extension of his own ability, or if they were a mix of ability users and normal people, is unknown. ASAGIRI, PLS JUST WRITE A WHOLE DANG NOVEL CALLED 'DRAGON HEAD CONFLICT'-)

As he finishes speaking, the rubble of the mafia looms closer to hitting the ground. Dazai mumbles that "who would have thought the White Dragon would be so powerful?" (This comment makes me think that in this instance, Shibusawa /was/ using his ability, and his hired hands were the ones setting off the bombs around Yokohama.) Shibusawa says he's tired of that name: "I am Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, the explosion that will end this war. The bringer of death that will end all of the massacres. This is the grand finale. I hope you leave me yearning for more…" Dazai recovers his composure and says that it's all very interesting, and it's time they had some fun, but at that moment, the headquarters finally hits the square, engulfing Shibusawa and Dazai in rubble and dust.

That day, every organization watched their base be destroyed, and they all learned the name of their common enemy. The Port Mafia sent a search party out to find Dazai, but his body was nowhere to be found, and neither was Shibusawa's.

Fifteen days later, Day 87 of Dragon Head Conflict, Shibusawa is moping in his palace, Draconia. (This is yet another facet of his ability - it is a special place, sort of like Lucy's, except he can make his tangible in the real world. Draconia holds everything he obsessively collects. Draconia is technically the name of his ability, but like I said, his ability is many-faceted, and the novel and movie refers to the palace as Draconia, so that is what I am going to do. He created his collecting palace after he was killed by the tiger ability, in a desperate way to find meaning without his memories - Fyodor briefly mentions this in Dead Apple.)

Fyodor appears and asks Shibusawa what's wrong? He's defeated amazing ability users, his palace is full to the brim with beautiful and priceless things; isn't this what he wanted? Shibusawa looks around at all the treasure and the heads (yes, you read that right, HEADS,) of many very strong ability users who he defeated. He says he's obsessively organized, just like he obsessively collected, but he has some measure of regret. Fyodor says that of course he isn't satisfied; he's told Shibusawa time and again that the pleasures of this world will never fill the deep emptiness he feels. "Not even jewels or war?" Shibusawa asks dejectedly. "No, they will not. As someone who has known you a long time, I can assure you of that." Shibusawa agrees reluctantly, commenting on how he predicted the moves of all his fallen foes and it's just so boring. He likens it to children who look back at old, broken toys and wonder how they ever enjoyed playing with them. What did they hope to get out of it? Eventually, they will just feel hopeless and smash the toy to bits. Fyodor tells him to blame the gods, because that's just how the world was made. Shibusawa asks what he should do, "detest the gods?" Fyodor smiles slyly. "No, there's a far simpler answer. Break your toys and move onto the next." Shibusawa smiles and proclaims this an excellent idea.

This exchange of dialogue is eerily similar to Dazai and Odasaku at the end of the Dark Era arc. However, the parallel is striking: both Dazai and Shibusawa are too smart for their own good, but their friends handle it in different ways. Oda tells Dazai to make his world more beautiful, save people, be a good man. Fyodor, who has his own agenda, advises Shibusawa to basically burn his world to the ground and do whatever he wants. (Fyodor, we hate you.)

Back at the temporary Port Mafia headquarters, Mori is holding a brief meeting between Hirotsu, Chuuya and himself. Mori bewails the fact that Shibusawa is a one man army and so enigmatic. Mori cannot use mathematics and logic and normal strategies and manipulation against an enemy they know nothing about, not even his ability, let alone his motive or whereabouts. "It's like we're fighting the mist itself." He goes on to explain that the top four organizations next to the Port Mafia have been completely annihilated, and many Port Mafia members have gone missing, from new recruits to executive candidates, including Dazai.

Chuuya says they should forget about "that moron" and try to find the others. (Obviously he doesn't think Dazai is dead, and knowing Dazai's crafty ways, he can look out for himself.) Mori comments there's the possibility that the missing people may not even be alive anymore, before asking Hirotsu for an update on the White Dragon.

Hirotsu tells him they don't have much beyond speculation and rumors, and that "the White Dragon's supernatural ability" is "a bizarre power that defies expectations." It appears that any user who encounters him commits suicide in despair. Mori then asks if Dazai left any information behind before his disappearance. Hirotsu says he's investigated everything thoroughly three times and has found nothing but a microscope that Dazai recently purchased, but it doesn't even look used.

Chuuya's eyes widen and he demands to know where the microscope is. Hirotsu says it's still in his room. (From the background pictures of said room, it is evident that Dazai has finally upgraded from his frighteningly isolated and empty storage container. Thanks for that stab, Stormbringer.) Fuming, Chuuya rushes off to the room, Hirotsu in tow. Once there, Hirotsu indicates the microscope, and Chuuya grabs it, promptly smashing it. Hirotsu starts to remonstrate, but is interrupted. Annoyance flashes across Chuuya's face as he holds up a transmitter for a tracking device that had been hidden inside. "That jerk saw this coming and got caught on purpose." Hirotsu says the coordinates are probably where both Dazai /and/ the White Dragon are, and is visibly impressed. "And the fact that he put it in a microscope so only I would notice must mean I have no choice but to go rescue that piece of crap. Damn it, Dazai! You always know how to be as annoying as possible!" He starts to leave, and Hirotsu asks where he's going. Chuuya tells him he's getting his motorcycle, indicating he plans to go after the White Dragon and Dazai. Hirotsu protests that Chuuya can't take on the White Dragon alone. Chuuya's annoyance fades, and he becomes more serious. "Don't worry, I have something for him." Hirotsu can't believe he's serious, (hello, Corruption!) and asks if that's really his plan. Chuuya just leaves, gets on his motorcycle, and zooms off, muttering, "Hold on, Dazai… you damn idiot!"

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hanazou · 3 years

Note

idk if the chuuya request was me but i think it was lmao- anyway the ask was a request for chuuya on an s/o who plays bass guitar i hope thats not too random ty xx

dating chuuya as a bass guitarist.

having chuuya as your boyfriend while playing a bass guitar will be as appealing as playing the bass.

Word count : 1K

Shelf : Hardback

Genre : Romance

Note : Don’t sweat it, anon! I like doing headcanons of character x musician!reader because i’m a musician myself (Thank God I finished this quick because when I found out Chuuya called Oda a "third-rate" in Dead Apple i was too angry at this man to write about him LOL) Anon, let me know your thoughts about this! Don't hesitate to tell me if there are any inaccuracies!

Enjoy your book! 💛

Charisma. A special charisma is the first thing Chuuya sees in you.

Chuuya's style (aesthetic wise) is a combination of subtle rock, street wear, a little bit of chic, with good colour combinations, and your skill playing bass guitar fit the picture if you get what I'm talking about. You and Chuuya correspond each other's vibes perfectly.

So if you play the bass guitar or any similar instruments, he’ll find it pretty attractive of you.

Chuuya admires your fluency and attention to detail, the way you seem to know every inch of your beloved instrument. He loves to see the way your fingers pluck the strings while the other hand moves from fret to fret—how do you even reach that far? He wonders how you know which cord one to press when they seem all the same to him.

Sometimes Chuuya gets inside your practice room without you noticing because you're so focused on playing. Next thing you know when you're finished, he has been sitting next to you, his chin propped on his hand, elbow on his crossed leg.

"So focused that you didn't hear me come in, huh?" He teases with his signature crooked smirk. "Picking that bass over me?"

Will definitely use his ability to levitate your bass guitar sometimes just to watch you get on top of tables or chairs to reach for it.

If there's a song he likes, sometimes he'll ask you to play it on your bass if the genre fits.

10/10 will remind you to take a break once in a while, like giving you water or takeout food. Also 10/10 will softly karate chop your head, surprising you, and show you he has food for you to eat.

"Do you want to faint from exhaustion?" He nags. "I got this for us to eat—" The food jiggles from hanging from his hand. You can smell it, it's your favourite dish. "—so take a break first, dummy."

If Chuuya knows you're busy preparing for a performance soon while he's busy himself, he'll find a way to attend to you regardless of his schedule, like asking a subordinate to deliver you lunch (paid by him, of course). He'll ask the restaurant to write a little "Remember to eat" note on top of the packaging.

If you're the type of bassist to wear gloves to make your notes brighter and "more staccato", gosh Chuuya will find that so hot. The way the gloves stand out against the bass and your skin? Perfection. Plus, you get to match his own gloves too (bonus points if your gloves are also black).

If you’re the type of bassist to use picks for plucking, Chuuya is going to take advantage of that. Sometimes, just when he wants to be pampered by you, he’ll hide your pick in his pocket and watch you look everywhere for it. He promises to help you find it after you let him sleep on your lap just because he’s quite tired that day. You have no reason to refuse, so after he’s had his time with you, he’ll take out the pick from his pocket with that so damn sexy half-smile.

Chuuya isn’t completely blind to music, so he’ll drop some comments sometimes--feedback if necessary, and most of them are casual compliments on different aspects of your play like “Oh, I like that riff, it sounded nice” and “Did you improvise that part? It suits the song”.

He loves to watch you set up your bass guitar; expanding and plugging the cables, preparing the speaker, testing the volume and the speaker buttons, tuning the strings, and especially when you pluck the strings to test it. He finds your familiarity with your instrument so pretty, he’ll throw random compliments while watching you prepare sometimes.

We know how good Chuuya's voice range is, especially when he shouts during combats. You'll be secretly intrigued to know how his voice will go with your bass guitar, and the question is how you will ask him to try singing to your music. If you really want to have him as your vocalist, even just once, you have to take out all of your cards to convince him. Puppy eyes, bribes gifts, tricking him by asking him to hum to some songs, anything, because it’s going to be one hell of a challenge.

((Assuming, I repeat, assuming you get Chuuya to sing by melting his heart with your antics, even just once, he will be such a blushing mess. He’ll probably accidentally use his ability and make a fracture on the floor. Please pat his back and tell him he did well. Please cherish and compliment this man I beg of you he’s a sucker for praises))

If you perform concerts, Chuuya will try his best to manage his schedule as an executive so he can attend, as a VIP guest too at that. I urge you to wear an accessory or a piece of clothing he once gifted you to earn a better reaction out of him, like him blinking and smirking with pride.

If Chuuya makes it, you'll spot him right away. His good fashion sense and that handsome face makes him stick out like a sore thumb anywhere. You'll be instantly more fired up in your performance, knowing Chuuya is watching you play the piece you've been practicing.

If there’s any idiot who dares to mock your performance, Chuuya will immediately square up with his iconic "Eh?!" and confront them right there and then, pulling their collars.

“Oi, you better watch your mouth,” He will growl. “cause you won’t be saying anything like that again after your mouth meets my fist.”

After your concert, Chuuya will see you at the backstage with a bouquet of flowers you didn't spot when he stood in the crowd.

"Uh, you did well." He tries hard to control his blush. "Here," He shoves the flowers in front your face. "Picked this up on the way here."

A classic move. He's so easily flustered, it's cute.

In the case if Chuuya is too preoccupied beating up people as a mafioso to attend your concert, he'll apologise with gifts; flowers (if you're not into flowers, he'll get you something else you like) and a bottle of rené rostaing because his love language is showering you with gifts, and maybe a romantic candlelit dinner at your favourite restaurant.

📜 ; like what you read? visit my bookshop!

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soukokuwu · 4 years

Text

➤ genre: angst, fluff

➤ pairing: chuuya x reader

➤ synopsis: breaking up with the love of your life is never easy.

➤ word count: 1.6k

➤ a/n: inspiration? “Lose” by NIKI. i just couldn’t get the song out of my head and decided to just vibe with this. ^.^

We only meet at the intersect

You were eighteen when Chuuya’s azure orbs caught your eye.

He was rough around the edges, always the fiery, hot-headed brute in any room, with the crimson hair to match. Exceptionally violent when his temper takes over, like asteroids slamming into a planet, and like a star exploding when he’s forced to use corruption.

Yet his fingers were able to dance across your skin as gentle as a soft summer breeze, and the hot temper gave way to subtle, fleeting signals of affection. The way his usually loud, boisterous voice cascaded into soft hushed tones when he spoke to you. Chuuya was a workaholic, all of his hours usually went into slaving away for the Port Mafia. But even that yielded to making time to find you, even if it was for no particular reason at all. Luckily he wasn’t one to nitpick about the details — because he never could for the life of him figure out what made you so entirely different from anyone else.

But you were.

You were nineteen when Chuuya took the leap of faith, showing you the gravity of his love.

He kept mum about his work, until he couldn’t anymore. Every instant he had to shy away from talking about what he did, every instant he denied you access into his real life, his mind — it felt like he was pushing you away, like he was allowing other people a chance to swoop in once you were pushed far enough.

And once you find out, your reaction was understandable. Horrified, confused and without any words uttered, you left him behind in the restaurant, alone with the doubts of whether he should have come clean at all. Was it worth losing what little of your friendship there was? Was it better to have made a clean breast of it and lose what was dear to him or would it have been smarter to keep you in the dark, keep you close?

But a ray of light came a month later in the form of liquid courage.

Chuuya wasn’t the one who came forth, no. He had considered himself burned from being honest, he thought you hated him. No, if anyone needed to do or say anything it would have to be you. He knew that nothing could make up for what he’s done or what he’s going to do as a Port Mafia executive. It was his family. And he would never give that up. A hard thing it was, for civilians to accept. The murders, the frauds, the sacrifices.

Which is why he didn’t know what possessed you to knock on his door at 2am in the morning, an open bottle of Romanee-Conti in one hand and his heart in the other.

You were twenty-one when you two started cohabitating.

It was a step in the right direction — you two barely met due to his busy schedule. You used to always have your phone on hand, desperate to know whether your boyfriend was safe after a long day’s work. To which he oftentimes forgot to account for; he was too tired. That, and he wasn’t used to being responsible for someone else’s feelings.

But this alleviated your insecurities, and it satisfied his wishes to spend more time with you.

The mornings were sunlight streaming through the cracks in satin curtains, cups of black coffee with occasional breakfasts of toast and eggs and fleeting kisses goodbye. The afternoons were distances, unavoidable work calls, meetings and ‘I miss you’ texts. The nights were hugs welcoming each other home, spills of crimson locks over his bare shoulders, bodies melding into one and ‘I love you’s by midnight.

Closets were full, black coats and grey waistcoats sharing vacancies with flowery dresses and black poly skirts. The pantry was more filled than ever before, now that Chuuya had someone living with him to eat with, to enjoy with. Bathrooms now had two sets of everything, toothbrushes, towels, cups. Walls were now occupied, the dull white paint masked by colourful memories framed in gold and black.

The collection grew and grew.

You were twenty two when you spotted the embers fading.

When sunlight cracked through the curtains and there was nobody in bed next to you. Either one of you always woke up earlier than the other. Time was not made during the busy of the afternoon, with either of you choosing to take a siesta during unoccupied minutes. The eventides of passion turned into nights of sex. You found yourself wishing he’d touch you like he did in the beginning. And he found himself wishing he was as into it as he used to be.

And one night, in the dead silence, as you two stared up at the ceiling in bed — it was the first time in a long time that you two shared the same thought.

Chuuya remembered when you taught him how to love, how you filled the void in his heart, helped him get over his insecurities, healed the numbness he felt about his humanity. The subtle efforts he had put forth because he deemed you worth it — and he still did. But that didn’t change facts: this wasn’t working out anymore.

He broke your heart each time he had to go away on long missions. He broke your heart each time he came back with bruises and a hardened expression. He broke your heart each time he had to keep a secret from you in the name of work. He broke your heart whenever you had to mask your true feelings to take care of his. And he hated hurting you.

You remembered when Chuuya taught you the importance of accepting someone for who they are, how he always tried his best to put you before himself in each decision he made, how he put aside his temper and his ego in every argument you had, how the two of you would always work them out. The two of you were made for each other, but it was painfully obvious: the end was awfully near.

You broke his heart each time he saw through the fake smiles. You broke his heart each time you didn’t bear to check in on him because you didn’t want to hear tomorrow’s headlines early. You broke his heart by giving him everything he wanted, but never could convince himself he deserved. And you hated disappointing him.

Neither of you wanted to do this. But it was a ticking time bomb. Both of you had been dragging this on for far too long — to decide to escape from this only to find yourselves running back to familiarity. It was a too-small house. Either one of you left, or you both stayed cramped in there until neither of you could take it anymore. Two options, but only one outcome.

This time, in the dead of the night, enveloped in the darkness, you took the first step.

“This isn’t working out.” A slight crack in your voice, but a very apparent ache in your heart.

“I know.” Quivering lips and the same gaping hole he had before he met you.

“I still love you.” Your confession.

“I will never stop loving you.” And his.

Chuuya is twenty-four when he finally lets himself consume an off day.

Life has been empty again since the day you moved out. He still remembers hugging you to sleep for the last time that night. And can still remember the overwhelming desire to pull you back in his arms as you walked out the door the next morning, to tell you that you didn’t have to go, that the both of you could work it out — but you both know he’d be lying. Some things you can never come back from. When something dies, they should remain that way. At least his memories of you remain sweet, and only because you left before things could take a turn for the worse.

This is a fire that he doesn’t see could possibly rekindle.

It’s life.

It’s been two years.

Waking up in an empty bed still sucks. Chuuya eyes your toothbrush by the sink. He can’t bear to remove it. It raked confusion in his one night stands. Not that he cares. They never mattered. They weren’t you. And there is still two of everything in the bathroom, but he never lets anyone use the other set. Doesn’t even know why, he just keeps it this way.

But the walls are empty again, all the memories tucked away in a box in the corner of his now emptier closet. He’s never opened them once. He’s afraid of the emotions if he ever does.

In the kitchen he eyes the barrenness. Since you left he hasn’t bought much of anything for himself. Takeouts are his best friend. Besides, he can’t cook as well as you. Something bugs him to make a grocery run though. He listens to it.

Chuuya scoffs looking in his basket, something tugging a subtle smile on his lips. You’ve even managed to keep your influence on him — everything inside is food you’d like. Your favourites, in fact. Love is weird.

And so is life. It has a way of disrupting your journey; it can pull two people together only to force them apart, leaving their hearts in a silent call for each other. But it’s also weird in the sense that it can bring the two people so close to each other yet again, but at the same time offer no further assistance.

Because in the opposite aisle, there you are, shopping for food that happened to remind you of him.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

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acuteagawa · 4 years

Text

Challenges

Writing a 8K smut fic instead for my university stuff? Sure, here it is uwu. Jokes aside, I love this man with all my heart and I hope I did him justice, I feel like he'd be extremely demanding and such a TEASE when it comes to sex. Please, let me know if you want more BSD smut because I will GLADLY write more QwQ I'm sorry for any typos here, I wrote this at 4AM! Hope you like it and please leave me a comment if you feel like it TwT <3

You didn’t really comprehend what he was asking you to do at first. You stared at him for a couple of seconds, a blank expression plastered on your face as your eyes blinked cluelessly.

What?

“Here?” You managed with a flushed face, the question unsure and your voice filled with pure embarrassment. He chuckled lowly at your delayed answer, making it harder for your knees to keep your body straight. You took a deep breath to steady you wobbly posture, and looked towards the windowed wall, towards him.

Chuuya was staring back at you, his blue eyes almost menacing as he looked up at you from his sitting position. The lights in his office were dim, the orange tint of sunset echoed throughout the whole room; he was glowing, honestly. He knew exactly how to play that game, he knew what to do to push all the right buttons and make you a flustered mess with the mere use of his words. You knew he was enjoying this, the bastard. Humor was clearly written all over that handsome face of his.

“Why not. It’ll be fun.” He almost groaned as he straightened up, placing his elbows on his desk and getting a better look of your blushing expression. You didn’t even dare to look at him now, you knew better, but you could still feel his unforgiving, grinning gaze heaving on you. Your resistance and your shyness seemed to only entice him more, he loved that side of you because he was the only one allowed to see it. He made sure to remind you of that every waking moment.

It’s not like the two of you were new to that sort of things. He had taken his time breaking you nicely, after all. But you were a quick learner, much to his approval. It has been a couple of months since Chuuya had the balls to finally confess his interest in you; he asked you out right after he came back from an important mission in the West, one that had kept him busy for weeks. It was during those long, lonely weeks that he realised how deeply the thought of you had planted its roots in his mind. He just couldn’t deny himself any longer; all he could think about was how good you’d look between his legs, sucking him off like the good girl you always were with him. It was your fault, honestly. You and those damned tight skirts of yours. He kept saying this to himself, trying to justify his weakness for you; truth is, he was really a goner the first time he saw you enter his office as one of the new Port Mafia secretaries many months before. For him, seeing you everyday had been worse than torture itself: watching you swerve your hips around the office without being able to claim you like he wanted had been both his salvation and his demise. Low curses emitted from his lips every single time he witnessed some other guy trying to flirt his way into your panties, because honestly he blamed himself and his cowardice for not securing himself around you soon enough. All he could do during that time was to sit back and let his groans subdue within his chest without being able to properly call you his.

But that was not the case anymore.

Now, you were his and his only. He was the only one allowed to make you blush like this, his name was the only one you where allowed to scream. He was the only man on this earth who was allowed to find refuge in the warmth between your legs. No one else.

“There’s still people around.” You retorted, hugging the stack of files tighter around your chest as to cover yourself better from his hooded, piercing eyes.

“That’s what makes it fun, Y/N.” His lips curved in a languid smirk, his honeyed voice ringed in your ears, sending shivers down the entirety of your spine. The idea of doing something so… intimate in a place so crowded was totally new for the two of you. Well, at least for you it was. Chuuya had been your first in many, many things, and you trusted him wholeheartedly, but this was really pushing all your boundaries.

You heard him shuffle in his leather armchair, probably growing tired of your insecurity. Chuuya always gets what he wants, you learned it the hard way during these past months. It’s not like he ever forced you to do anything you were not comfortable with, he just liked to experiment with you. He’s constantly trying his best to understand you, unravel what’s in your head, decipher what feels good and what doesn’t. Chuuya always puts you and your pleasure first, he was a true gentleman at heart, and for that you were extremely grateful. It just surprised you at first when you heard him whisper those filthy words only a few moments ago, but you trusted him and his vision.

“I need to fuck you so bad right now, Y/N.” You shivered again, remembering how sultry his voice sounded as you spoke for the first time that day.

He had been extremely busy these past days, it had been almost impossible to get a hold of him even via text, but that didn’t surprise you since he was the executive with the best records in all of Port Mafia’s history. He was really popular in the field and there was a really high demand for him and his services. Time periods in which he was totally unavailable were not unusual, which was something that had frightened you at first. You thought he had grown tired of you the first time you tried to get in contact with him to no avail, he didn’t answer your texts or calls for exactly four days. Needless to say, you were over the moon when he knocked at your door on the fifth night, begging for you to let him in so that he could help you forgive him. It was one of the best nights with him to date, he’d been so needy for your touch and so focused on making you cum all night long, until you had begged him to stop, filled to the brim with his gift. The mere memory of his long, sharp thrusts plunging deep within your drenched core with each raw drag of his hips made your head spin.

“Y/N. Come here.” Chuuya noticed how lost in your thoughts you had become, so he regained your full attention by patting his hand gently on his lap, encouraging you to get closer to his desk. You snapped out of it immediately, and slowly but surely you started walking towards him; the soft clicking of your heels echoed through the room, now completely silent. As you reached him, you clumsily placed the files you’d been clutching on the marble table. Your hands were shaking slightly and he noticed: Chuuya quickly took hold of your right hand, making you gasp in surprise. He took this small window of opportunity and dragged you down so that you were sitting across his strong thighs.

“You don’t trust me?” He smiled at you with hooded eyes, so much darker than usual. He slowly pulled your delicate hands towards his smooth lips, kissing each and every knuckle like his life depended on it. You were his queen, after all. He never failed to make you remember that either.

“It’s not that. You know it’s not that, Chuuya.” You blushed again, the mere thought of what he was proposing was making you weak in your knees once again, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were almost straddling him you’d be on the floor by now. You couldn’t deny that you missed him and his ministrations too, all of this was making you extremely sensitive, your panties felt a tad damp by now.

But you would never admit that to him directly. The man was already so full of himself.

“Hmm. So what is it about? Are you scared someone will see us? Hear us?” He chuckled once again, hoisting your body up so that he could drape your legs to each side of his thighs, making you straddle him completely now. You hissed at the feeling of his already hardening length brushing against your inner thigh.

“Chuuya...” You panted, eyes hooded with lust as his skilled digits started travelling down from your hips to your thighs, so conveniently bare and at his mercy.

“Yes, kitten? Changed your mind?” He smirked, his lips now locked against the soft skin of your neck. He angled himself so that he was resting his forehead right inside the crook of your neck, where your sweet scent was stronger and where he knew exactly how to torture you with his skilled lips. He immediately started nibbling and licking the soft expand up until he reached your sweet spot, the spot he knew would make you mewl and beg. The combination of his plush lips and his nibbling teeth made you moan softy against your will, your hands finding their place in his hair as you gently grazed at his skull. He groaned at the feeling, a primal sound rumbling in his chest at the sensation of you tugging his messy locks.

You didn’t even know when your hips had started to involuntarily buck against his on the chair, your clothed cores colliding slightly with each move; feeling your warmth radiating through his tight dress pants and against his painfully hard cock made him grit his teeth, hard. He’d been hard all day thinking about this, about you straddling his cock and taking him in so perfectly in your tight little pussy. Man, he loved how tight you felt against his pulsing, throbbing length just before you cummed, he couldn’t wait to finally plunge himself inside you and fill you up nicely. You were making him loose all his cool.

Without a single word, he snaked one arm around your tiny waist to support you better while his free hand travelled from your thighs to your skirt, hiking it up just enough to reveal your damp panties to his hungry, hooded eyes. He smirked teasingly at you, one eyebrow shooting up just to mock your current state. He then pressed his solid cock against you experimentally, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of his clothed length nestled tightly against your folds, but more importantly watching how your chest rose up in shock from the sudden contact. Fuck, he could cum just by looking at your flushed face right now. Your tiny whimpers and moans were music to his ears, hands down his favourite sound in the whole world: they never failed to set his groin on fire, knowing that you were feeling this good because of him, and him only.

Chuuya rolled his hips a couple more times, the both of you panting and grinding against the other like two horny teenagers who didn’t know better. The dry and rough feeling of your panties and his dress pants against your most sensitive area made you whimper his name with each one of his slow, yet precise thrusts.

“You like this, uh? You fucking love it, don’t you? Look at you, humping my thighs to get yourself off. Tsk, I thought you were a good girl, Y/N.” His dirty talking did nothing to help your current situation, it only made the unbearable ache between your legs burn and sting deeper. You opened your eyes briefly just to stare at him, noticing how he wasn’t in a better state than you where. He looked just as desperate as you did, his bangs falling messily across his face, teeth gritting with purpose and eyes focused on the place where your bodies connected. Well, should connect. The feeling of your clothing was almost unbearable now, you wanted to touch him so badly, to feel his warm skin under your fingers, to caress his muscles and leave marks on that pretty back of his.

“Chuuya, please...” You whined, not really sure what you were asking him to do but you needed some sort of relief. Anything would do, really.

“Please what, Y/N? Aren’t you going to be a good girl for me and cum all over my leg? I want to feel you drench my pants.” He groaned, his blue eyes completely filled with the pure black of his blown out irises. Fuck, he was so hot, asking you to do that so he could simply enjoy the view. And with that, one of his fingers hooked your panties just enough to pull them to the side; your glistening core was finally able to directly brush against the clothed muscles of his thigh and to occasionally bump against his painfully solid erection. You heard Chuuya curse beneath his breath at the mere sight of your drenched pussy dragging over and staining his work pants.

“Chuu- Fuck!” You bucked your hips a couple more times, grinding down harshly against him in order to reach your limit and finally give him what he wanted to see. You opened your glazed eyes, hands shooting right back at his hair and pulling it softly so that he understood the signal. You wanted him to look at you, to see how desperate he had made you. How hungry you were for him and his touch. His dark eyes met your hooded ones, sharp canines revealing under his satisfied grin. The way you were grinding your hips against his was making it hard for him to focus on anything but your core, but fuck he loved to see you cum. To see those pretty eyes of yours roll back in ecstasy and to hear his name though your moans.

“Fuck Y/N... That’s it. Cum on me, let me hear you, princess.” He roared, the grip of his arm tightening around your waist and helping you move against him better, now that your legs were spasming and growing tired. He dragged your lower half against him a couple of times more before you felt the knot in your lower belly unravel, almost painfully. His words coaxed you to reach your limit, the idea of his hungry eyes fixed on your convulsing form turned your legs into jelly. You came hard, really hard, moaning his name loudly, almost desperately. The strength of his arms never leaving you as he continued bucking his hips against yours, prolonging your orgasm by tenfold. Then the so familiar overstimulation came, and everything felt too much for you, so you gently pushed his chest away and rested your back against the edge of the desk, trying to distanziate your core from his body as best as the position allowed you. You experimentally opened your eyes: all you saw was his usual smug grin wide on his face, and his hungry eyes.

You almost felt yourself coming undone again.

“Such a sight to behold.” He grinned at you, a tingle of something oddly sweet laced in his voice. You smiled back at him, your breath was still ragged and uneven but you craved more. You always did when it came to him.

“Look at the mess you made, princess. My dress pants are ruined for good. Such a nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He continued, knowing exactly how to get under your skin. He knew how flustered the whole ordeal would make you, yet he decided to torture even further with his dirty comments. You looked down at his pants, noticing the big, wet splotch that was turning the grey material of his expensive pants black and moist. You blushed heavily at the sight of your desire for him so clearly evident on his clothes and fingers.

“My, my. What to do about this reckless behaviour of yours, uhm? You certainly enjoyed yourself a lot.”

“Quit the crap, Chuuya. You asked for this.” You honestly weren’t good at reacting to his dirty talk, it made you fluster badly and it sometimes embarrassed you to the point that your ears turned red. He loved seeing you like that though, all shy and prudish after what you had just done.

“Tsk. Who taught you to talk like that?” His brows knitted together with fake annoyance and shock, while his arm snaked back to his original place around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest, demanding a kiss.

“You did.” You leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek instead, mockingly. He clearly wasn’t happy with it, so he immediately trapped your face between his hands, fingers tilting your chin so that he could have easy access to those pretty lips of yours and finally devour them.

The kiss was rough and dry at first. Teeth colliding together messily as his tongue fought to enter your lips but you sealed them tightly, making him groan with anger. When did his little angel turn into the stubborn demon that was straddling him just now? Was it his fault that she became so skilled in making him loose his cool?

Chuuya knew how to play that game, though. His hands travelled down to your plump backside that he so eagerly worshipped, grabbing handfuls of it, roughly. You gasped in surprise, his raw touch enough to set you ablaze again as you felt his tongue finally colliding against yours in a fight for dominance you knew you couldn’t win. He was everywhere around you; his musky scent was so strong you honestly thought you could just pass out from it.

“Why don’t you put that pretty mouth of yours to a better use instead of babbling profanities, my love?” He questioned lowly, your bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he pulled it slightly and bit on it until you sensed the coppery taste of blood on your tongue. You hissed at the sharp pain, wincing away from his hold. Looking right back at him, his hands started to softly circle patterns across the bare skin of your legs, up until his fingers reached under your shirt. You moaned at the feeling of his strong, calloused hands feeling you up and kneading your tender breasts, pinching your nipples from underneath your lacy bra.

You slowly removed yourself from him, the awkward position had left your legs sore and weak from how roughly you were pressing down into his hard body. His eyes never stopped following your every movement, curious to see if you’d actually accept his challenge and blow him in his office. Out in the open.

As you kneeled before him underneath the desk you didn’t fail to notice the way he was grinning from ear to ear, his hands still glued to your chest, cupping you from beneath. Fucking bastard, you couldn’t wait to make him beg for it. With a swift motion of your hands, you pushed his arms away to grant yourself a better access to his clothed lower half. His tight pants did nothing to conceal the evident bulge of erection, which was straining painfully near his thighs. Slowly, your tiny hands palmed him through his clothes, stroking him gently and experimentally; you almost chuckled at his sudden reaction, his hips instantly bucking into your hands looking for any sort of relief, his eyes glazed and semi-closed but still fixed on yours, a sharp inhale of breath through his gritted teeth echoed to your ears. The sight of him completely lost in your touch and so needy for you to continue was something that will always occupy a special place in your mind. Gods, he was so handsome.

You slowly grazed the entire outline of his cock with your fingers while your other hands continued palming and fondling his base, making him groan loudly with eagerness. Chuuya loved foreplay: he especially loved receiving it, having your lips encase his whole length tightly while choking because of his girth, but today you noticed a tinge of impatience in his every movement. From the strong grasp of his hands on your head, to the unsatisfied groans he was so desperately trying to suppress, while he twisted and turned in his armchair with knitted brows… Everything seemed to indicate that he wasn’t up for any of it today.

“Y/N…” The tone of his voice seemed almost menacing, and you smiled at how desperate he already sounded. You loved how his eyes dared you to continue your little game; but you were a smart girl, you quickly learned not to challenge him or else he’d deny you any form of release until you begged and screamed his name. Shuddering at the mere memory of one long and evenful night, when he had punished your teasing by fucking your throat raw, your hands quickly grabbed his belt to undo it. As soon as you were able to unfasten his leather belt, you hooked your tiny fingers into the loops of his pants, while your other hands worked fast to unzip him. His eyes were deeply focused towards your hands, which were working desperately to free him from his expensive dress pants, his head was hanging low so that your foreheads were almost touching. Finally, you started pulling down his slacks, eager to release his cock and please him: with one single pull he was left in his tight boxer briefs, which you skilfully pulled down as well, just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free and rest on his clothed stomach.

“F-Fuck.” He hissed, his head lolled back to rest against the plush leather of his armchair. The feeling of cold air finally caressing his painful erection was pure bliss. You smiled at his reaction and took the opportunity to admire his cock in all his glory.

He was definitely well packed down there, your eyes always grew to the size of saucers every time you saw his cock spring free of his confinements. The first time you two had been intimate with each other you asked him if he was sure it could fit inside of you, honestly clueless about all of this. You remembered his low chuckles, how they made you tremble with anticipation as he answered in your ear that yes, it would fit because your body was made for him. Time has passed, sure, but you would never grow tired of the sight of his leaking, red tip and angry pulsing veins waiting for your touch. You licked your lips while your delicate fingers wrapped around his throbbing shaft, pumping him slowly but firmly. You knew the exact amount of pressure that he liked to be touched with; you knew that he much preferred to be squeezed tightly at the base but gently at his tip, all of it while your other hand gently fumbled with his balls. Chuuya hissed and groaned as soon as he felt your warm hands on him, head still lolled back and breath coming out in harsh pants, cursing from time to time. He was really a goner for your delicate but skilled touch.

He trained you well, after all.

You quickly established a slow but consistent pace of your pumps, making him shiver each time your fingers would graze against his enraged, velvety tip. Your lips found their place at his neck, nibbling and biting along the thick vein up to his sharp jawline, possibly leaving some love bites across his pale skin. He roared loudly when a particular snap of your wrist engulfed his whole leaky tip in a firm grasp, making him wince and spasm under you. He was so sticky and wet already, the mere thought made you clench around nothing.

“What’s wrong, baby? Coming already?” You teased him, licking the shell of his ear and biting his lobe mockingly. You removed your hand from his tight balls and ran it under his shirt, your nails scratching along his toned abs up to his solid chest while your other hand was still pumping around his cock. He finally looked at you: his eyes were now completely black and filled with liquid lust, a sheer layer of sweat was making his skin glow under the sunset light; he was grinning at you while his hot breath fanned across your face in incoherent pants.

“I thought I asked you to use your pretty mouth, Y/N.” He suddenly pushed away your hand from his cock, harshly, almost making you loose your already precarious balance. His strong hands grabbed hold of your frail shoulders, pushing you back down under his desk with a big toothy grin. You were now back on your knees, the sweet prospect of dominance shuttered in just a few seconds; you hummed softly at the delicious sight before you: his cock was completely slicked with his own precum, which was even dribbling down onto his smooth balls and boxers, while the thick veins along the entirety of his shaft pulsed and throbbed from your previous ministrations. You felt a sharp clench again. Your hands found their place on his knees and thighs as you positioned yourself to get a better access over his cock, taking it back into your hands and slowly dipping your face down to plant a first soft kiss on the tip. He felt velvety and smooth on your lips as you started placing kisses all over it, making his hips buck in response. How he loved when you worshipped his cock like this.

Your tongue darted out, tracing along his sensitive slit where precum was already oozing out in thick bubbles, the salty taste that you loved coating your wet muscle as you finally closed your lips around his tip and started circling it skilfully. You heard him moan above you, his hands found mercy in your long, silky hair as he kept your head steady between his legs with a strong hold, pulling it into a loose ponytail so that he could see you blow him better. He flinched and spasmed again as you started bobbing your head slowly, taking him wholly inside your mouth until his tip reached the back of your tight, warm throat. The hands that were still glued to his knees moved: with one, you started massaging his balls again, loving how smooth and soft they felt and knowing how much he liked that kind of stimulation, while the other hand travelled to hike his shirt up, revealing his lower abs to your hungry eyes. Your nails grazed at the expanse of his lower stomach, a faint trace of hair trailed from under his navel down to frame the pretty cock inside your mouth. You hummed around him, he vibrations coursing through his length made him hum in response too.

“Fuck… You look so beautiful between my legs. With your mouth full of my cock like this… Fuck baby… You’re so good to me.” He kept cursing and moaning above you as he praised you and your mouth. His nails were massaging the sides of your skull lovingly, hips bucking slightly to meet your pace halfway.

All kinds of fluids, yours and his, were dribbling down the sides of your mouth to your chin as you choked and gulped around him, his pants and boxers messy with new splotches and stains. He didn’t seem to care in the slightest though, too enamoured with the sight and with the feeling of you choking and struggling around his angry length. He was now starting to fuck your throat: it was a bad habit of his that you were slowly growing accustomed to, but it always hurt at the beginning no matter how many times he did it before. The discomfort of his cock plunging deep inside your throat repeatedly mixed with the loss of air induced by the fact that he was keeping your head steady with his hands almost made you pass out. He was that intense when it came to chase down his own release. You struggled under him, his breath hot and loud above you making you slick with arousal for him again. He sounded oh so desperate to cum, to spill his load deep down your convulsing throat and make you swallow all of his seed like you were hungry for it. Feeling his legs and thighs twitch under your hands, you relaxed your throat: he was so close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned loudly, his hips giving a couple more thrusts inside your mouth until you felt the underside of his cock tremble on your tongue, coating your throat with thick spurts of his cum. You eagerly swallowed everything he was willing to give you, until he stilled and panted loudly above you. His hands were still caressing your head and hair, his hold releasing almost all of its pressure and giving you room to breathe, to relax around him. Looking up, you saw that his head was still reversed back into the armchair, his Adam’s apple bobbing fast as he tried to recover as much air as possible after his climax. You licked his cock clean, and finally released it with a loud pop; your eyes followed it, watching how it now rested limply over his toned lower abs, red and spent but somehow still hard and twitching. Chuuya was still lost in his afterglow bliss, his chest was rising a bit more steadily now while he hummed his approval, opening his glazed eyes to finally lock his loving gaze with yours. His hand connected with your left cheek, massaging it tenderly while watching you with hooded, grateful eyes; his finger collected a small drop of cum that managed to escape your lips and dribble down your chin, pushing it back into your mouth with a low groan rumbling in his chest as you sucked on his finger and cleaned it up thoroughly.

Then, your shy gaze averted from his heavy, sultry one; it was so amusing to him that you still managed to feel embarrassed after taking his cock so perfectly deep inside your mouth, after everything the two of you had done together, but nevertheless he loved that side of you to pieces. At that, he gripped your arm strongly and pulled you up to sit back onto his lap once again, making you shudder. His lips connected with yours immediately, massaging them with a slow, sweet pace; it was so abruptly different from the way he was using your mouth just moments before. Your bruised lips danced with his smooth ones, his taste was still lingering on your tongue and it mixed with his strong, musky scent, making you whimper into the kiss.

“I’m not done with you, just so you know.” Chuuya nibbled your bottom lip and travelled back to your neck, his statement making you hungry all over again. Your gaze fell down between your bodies, the sight of his cock resting hard and heavy against both of your stomachs made your insides flutter. His clothes were completely soiled with cum, spit and sweat, your panties ruined and sticking to your core once again. You briefly wondered how the two of you would manage to exit his office and the building without anyone noticing the sticky mess on your clothes.

You were suddenly brought back to the current situation when you felt his skilled fingers rub circles over your clit from outside your drenched panties. You winced, still a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm, but melted to his touch as soon as he slipped his fingers inside the flimsy material of your lacy undergarments and started rubbing your slick folds gently, probing at your entrance with his middle finger, teasingly.

“Chuuya… Please, don’t tease me now… I can’t anymore.” Your voice sounded so pathetically weak right now, it was a mix between a plea and a cry. Instantly, you felt his lips curl into a wicked smile across the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You know it will hurt if I don’t prepare you well enough, baby.” He whispered in your ear, his low voice making you shiver above him while his middle finger entered your tight core. Of course you knew, he had been rough with you before, it mainly happened when he was too horny or angry to bother with foreplay. The painfully dry drag of his cock inside your tight core only added to the turmoil inside of you though, you secretly loved when he was rough and needy with you. You loved everything about him.

“I don’t care… Please just- Please Chuuya…” You whined, stopping his hands by placing yours around his wrist, stilling his slow movements. Your pleading eyes were now fixed to his hungry ones, almost as if you were trying to convince that you really wanted it, that you meant it.

“Very well. Whatever you want, princess.” His tongue clicked, strong arms swiftly grabbing you and pulling your body flushed to his. He proceeded in pulling down your skirt and panties with a single swift motion, doing the exact same with his own pants and boxers. With his free arm, he tossed everything that was lying on his desk to the floor, not caring about the stacks of documents and files flying everywhere. He needed to fuck you out of his system, now. He laid you on the cold marble beneath him, standing on his feet and towering over your petite figure; your legs instantly laced behind his back, pulling him even closer to you and securing him against your dripping core.

Chuuya placed one of his hands right next to your face on the marble desk, to avoid crushing you with his weight; his other hand draped down around his shaft, pumping himself a couple of times with his hooded eyes glued into your demanding ones. He slowly rubbed his shaft between your folds, your slick coating his cock nicely so that it would slide in without any pain. The tip of his cock brushed against your neglected clit with each and every gentle thrust, making you whine for more. Your hands travelled to his toned arms and laced behind his strong neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. He gladly obliged, lowering his face enough for you to peck him and lick his lips before you felt the head of his solid erection push inside of you. You both moaned into the kiss, exchanging your breaths; the feeling of him stretching you so fucking nicely was to die for.

Chuuya entered you slowly, making sure that you were able to feel each and every inch of his dick dragging across the ridges of your tight cunt, filling you up completely until he was buried balls deep into your heat, hips stilled against your plush ass. He cursed beneath his breath at how deliciously your pussy wrapped around him, sucking him in, almost. Low profanities were leaving his mouth as he waited for you to adjust and stop clenching around him, or else he’d cum in a matter of minutes. You moaned underneath him, trying to undo the buttons his shirt so that you could finally claw your back and watch his abs contract as he drilled mercilessly inside of you. Chuuya got the hint and raised his torso away from yours, without actually pulling out, and unfastened the buttons for you. His shirt opened up, finally revealing his toned mid section to your hungry gaze and nails. The sight of his naked torso, except for the presence of his black leather choker wrapped tightly around his viscous neck, made tears swell up in your eyes. Fuck, you don’t recall ever being this hungry and horny for him. Chuuya smirked, knowing how much you loved to see him like this all too well, and he almost ripped your shirt open: you trembled as you heard a couple of buttons hit the floor and flying across the office. His calloused hands shot up to cup your breasts immediately, kneading them gently while uncovering them haphazardly from your damned bra. You held his head lovingly as he nestled his face down over you, latching his lips to your nipple while rolling the other between his fingers; he sloppily kissed and marked your chest with small love bites that you knew would turn purple for weeks.

“Chuuya… Please move… I can take it now.” You whimpered, having adjusted to the size and feeling of him inside of you. The stretch was no longer painful, it only stung a little but it added to the amazing feeling of him filling you up to the hilt. He nodded, thrusting out of you and pushing back in immediately after, experimentally. He didn’t want to hurt you, not today, you had been so nice to him and you deserved every ounce of pleasure he was able to gift you.

The heels of your feet pushed at his backside, urging him to fuck you harder, to which he quickly obliged. Chuuya set a steady and harsh pace, drilling his cock into your warmth with an unforgiving force. The desk dragged against the hardwood floor with each thrust of his hips, but none of you seemed to care. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your maddening scent sharply as he kept rutting hard inside of you; your loud moans in his ear only coaxed him to go faster, deeper. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, the idea of you wanting him so damn close made butterflies dance in his stomach, loins set on fire. He grabbed one of your legs and pulled it closer to his chest, angling you so that he was hitting it even deeper, making you cry as tears formed in your eyes from how good you were being fucked.

“God Y/N, you’re so fucking tight… You want me dead.” He groaned, placing a couple of kisses on your ankle as he kept his pace hard and steady. The sound of skin slapping and of your moans echoing through the room were making him drunk and hazy. He wouldn’t last long.

You hummed, unable to answer with words anymore. He felt just so good, so thick and deep inside of you, reaching places you never thought he was able to reach. This position allowed the tip of his cock to brush against your sweet spot with each thrust, making you clench around his throbbing shaft uncontrollably. A familiar bubble in your lower belly began to form, you could feel your high approaching with every snap of his hips.

“Chu-Chuuya… I’m so close… Please!” You cried, tugging his hair and asking him to come back down so that you could kiss him. So that you could watch him in the eyes and express how grateful you were for his ministrations. So that you could praise him.

“I know, love. I can feel you sucking me in… How do you want me?” He whispered between harsh hisses as he finally came back to you, body flushed against yours. His rutting became even faster and more desperate, if possible. Your nipples brushed against his solid chest, only adding to the pleasure of spiralling down because of his unforgiving, precise thrusts.

“I don’t care baby, just please make me cum…” Your voice was now a mess of pleas and moans but somehow you still managed to form a coherent sentence. Your hands cupped his cheeks, kissing him like a starved woman while he groaned into the kiss. You knew he loved when you left the choice to him, when you submitted yourself completely to his will. He hugged you, his large hands cupping behind your head in order to prevent you from bumping against something and actually hurt yourself because of his hard pace. You hugged him back, your chin rested against his shoulder while his was hidden in the crook of your neck; your nails dragged across the large expanse of his toned back, marking him up and trying desperately to steady yourself as he pounded inside of you restlessly. All you could hear were his grunts and hisses mingling with your own screams, and the sound of his poor desk dragging harshly against the stone floor.

Chuuya was a strong man. The force he was using to pin you down and to fuck your brains out was almost scary, but you were used to this by now. He wasn’t even using his ability today, but all the pent up lust and desire allowed him to be just as strong and raw with you.

It all came crushing down on you when you felt one of his hands leave your head and snake down between your legs, finding your clit and rolling it between his rough fingertips, matching the rhythm of his hips. He wanted you to come undone first, as always. Well, when he felt like you deserved it. Your left hand clutched his arm desperately, but his touch never faltered: he kept brushing over your sensitive nub, using the slick of your arousal to get you off.

“Come on…” He hissed, teeth gritting with the sole purpose of making you cum before he did. It was really hard for him to deny himself any longer, but he was trying his best.

“Chuuya… Baby!” You whined, a high pitched moan following your pleas as you felt his cock hit your spot repeatedly while his skilled fingers rubbed you gently. You opened your eyes just to look for his own pair, mouth agape as he pounded the living light out of you. His jaw was clenched, tense, and you knew he was on the verge of heaven too.

A couple more of those flicks were all it took for you to spasm harshly beneath his weight, legs wrapping around his waist and gripping him like a vice. You screamed his name loudly, eyes rolling back as he fucked you through it, prolonging your high with the sharp rut of his hips, balls slapping your ass with every thrust. Your hands grip his arm and back, anchoring yourself and marking him up badly because your release was too strong, he was too strong. Your mouth was open but nothing seemed to come out, the tears that had collected in your eyes rolling down to wet your cheeks and chin. It was too much, all of it was simply too much, you honestly thought you were about to pass out on that desk.

Chuuya gritted his teeth and inhaled sharply, the feeling of your drenched cunt convulsing around him, trying to milk his cock of all its worth, was making his thrusts sloppy. He fucked you through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping rubbing your clit. He looks down to your shuddering form, the blissful expression plastered on your face was a sight to die for, more valuable than any piece of art he owned. He felt your hand trying to stop his own, a weak try because he knew he could coax another orgasm right out of you before he’s allowed to cum and spill his seed inside of you. And before you were able to stop him you were already clenching again, crying over of the force of your second orgasm. It was mind-blowing, almost painful, your walls spasmed around him so hard that you could feel his cock twitch inside of you. Chuuya allowed himself a couple more of those sloppy, incoherent thrusts before he came inside, a loud roar rumbling in his chest. You hummed at the feeling of his warm cum spurting deeply inside of you, painting your walls and filling you up to the brim with his gift. He moved sloppily until he was sure he was completely empty and collapsed on top of your body moments after.

Both of your breaths were irregular, chests heaving against the other’s in a futile attempt to regain some composure after your highs crushed down on you full force. You aimlessly caressed his hair and back, keeping him close and flush to your form as he rested his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. It took him a couple of seconds before he regained enough energy to stop crushing you with his weight, peeling himself off of you with a satisfied grunt. Chuuya looked down between your legs, where your bodies connected and where his cock was still nestled inside your folds. His hooded gaze watched as you still clenched around him slightly, cum dripping down on both of your thighs, pooling all over the desk. He hissed at the sight, gods he really came hard, his seed was overflowing everywhere, making a hell of a mess. He pulled out a bit, a streak of cum following his tip as cum oozed out of your abused cunt, only to push himself back in seconds after, plunging his cum back into you. Chuuya heard you whimper lightly and his eyes shot up to your face, taking in the blissed glory of your fucked out expression and tear stained eyes. He had really fucked you good. He grinned, placing a soft kiss on you red, abused lips and removing some stray strands of your long hair from your beautiful face. Honestly, he was all for aftercare: he loved taking care of you after a good fuck, kissing you softly before both of you fell asleep in a tangled mess of limbs was one of this favourite things in the universe, but his office desk was not as comfortable as your shared bed. He finally pulled his cock out of your tight warmth, one last shared moan echoing through the room.

“Can you stand?” He offered you his hand, which you grabbed immediately as you were quite unsure you were able to. His hand grasped yours tightly in order to pull yourself back into a sitting position. You back screamed in pain, the hard surface of his marble left some nasty bruises all over your shoulders and back.

“Fuck, I made a mess.” Chuuya continued, his eyes focused on the sticky pools of cum and what not that were sputtered all over his work space. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled yourself on your feet, your legs wobbled at first but he was quick to catch you by securing his strong arm around your tiny waist.

“Hey, careful now…” He chuckled. The sight of your shuddering figure and the fact that he was the one who wrecked you this good caused a primal surge of pride to swell in his chest. You nodded at him, blushing heavily. Your hair was a mess, and so was his: both of you looked like you just had the best sex of your life. The air in his office was heavy and humid, the sun had finally settled so you were left standing in the dim, warm lights of his expensive table lamps. He placed you in his leather armchair before pulling his pants up roughly to go and open a window, the fresh night breeze helping you focus and ponder on what had just happened.

You adjusted your shirt and skirt, cursing at the sight of three missing buttons and a sticky cum stain on your skirt. You really made a mess this time, you honestly didn’t know what possessed the two of you to indulge in such a messy ordeal in a place like this.

“We should do this more often, don’t you think?” You heard him chuckle behind you, his body was leaning against the opened window just to light up a cigarette and blow the smoke outside.

“If it wasn’t for the mess, then yes, maybe.” You smiled at him, he hummed at your answer. That was true, the feeling of stickiness and sweat clinging to your bodies was somewhat unpleasant, the convenience of showering together right after sex was something he truly cherished. Mainly because he always gets to fuck you in there too.

“I guess you’re right. What do you say we clean up a bit and go straight back home earlier tonight?” He grinned, his usual twisted smile sending shivers down your spine, a trail of smoke coming from his bruised lips.

You nodded your head softly, the everlasting crave you felt for this man was going to be the end of you, you were sure of it. And yet, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#nakahara chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya #chuuya smut #bsd #bsd smut #bsd scenarios #Nakahara Chuuya scenarios #Nakahara Chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs fic

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astxlphe · 4 years

Text

Day 3: Indulgent // Akumori / Moriaku

(sorry it’s a bit late @bsd-rarepair-valentines-week)

...this is way out of my comfort zone, but I needed this out of my system for now. It’s kind of an experiment?

I’m usually a fluff person okay.

Also Mori is hard as hell to write I’m sorry.

Content warnings:

generic unhealthy relationship warning, unsafe, nsfw at the end large age gap, possessive / controlling behaviour, blood play, knife play towards the end too. Pain play too? Is that a thing? Sadism / masochism?

I think that’s it? Also everything is consensual.

Akutagawa comes back from the Guild ship victorious, with his clothes mending themselves, drying blood all over his shirt and patching his face.

Mori stares at it.

Everything about it, about watching it smear as the boy wipes it away with his sleeve, is attention grabbing.

Maybe it’s the way it making him think of what he looks like with bloods splatters all over him, staining his skin and clothes.

All black, and white, and red — fitting. Those are already his colors.

Once Akutagawa has finished reporting, Mori simply nods. “I see— a job well done.” He plays with one of the pieces on his chessboard while the boy straightens his back in pride. “You have reopened your injuries,” he notes — and sighs, because of course, the boy would not be mindful of himself.

Mori stands and motions for him to follow. “We have some time before Chuuya-kun finishes his own mission,” he goes on. “Come here, I’ll take a look.”

Akutagawa is not as reluctant to it as usual, likely because he’s tired — fighting while injured is taxing, even for him— or because he knows Mori is not offering a simple medical checkup.

He watches him peel his clothes off his body, not taking his eyes off him once, and lets his fingers linger where the skin is the most stained. The boy hisses in pain under his breath as he stitches him up.

The sound makes him smile, he presses his lips on his nape and Akutagawa relaxes under his touch, sighing quietly.

There is no time for more, however. The phone rings, Chuuya’s name flashing on the screen.

“I’m afraid we will have to finish on a later date.”

A fleeting, barely noticeable irritation passes over Akutagawa’s face, but Mori shakes his head.

“Business first, Akutagawa-kun. Business first.”

The Guild is out of the way, but there is little time to celebrate. More is on its way.

In the meantime, Mori has a business to run and compensations to put together for those under their protection who were impacted by the war against the Guild.

He listens to Akutagawa’s report on the latest skirmish his Black Lizard had to intervene on. The day is young, and Mori has time. No pressing issues until at least another hour, he calculates.

Plenty of time.

“How do you feel about picking it up where we left off, Akutagawa-kun?”

Without a word, Akutagawa nods, moving on the other side of the desk. Mori pushes him back a little, making him sit, and takes a hold of his chin to study his face.

There is fresh blood on his face, dotting his face like crimson freckles, belonging the last enemy he has killed. It’s the only sign he has been in a fight at all.

Mori’s finger spread it, leaving a wide, red mark on his cheek.

This is the blood of the people who dared cross the Mafia, cross him.

And Akutagawa wears it like a trophy.

“You did good today,” he gives him, and Akutagawa immediately perks up.

“It was nothing, sir. I—”

Mori forces his face up and shuts him up with a kiss. There is a muffled whine from the boy as he deepens it, as his teeth catch on his lower lip and bite down, hard. Akutagawa’s hands grip at Mori’s coat and they can both taste iron on their tongue.

From the corner of the room, Elise makes a grossed-out noise. He makes a mental note to send her away next time.

He pulls back. Akutagawa’s face is red, blood dripping from his lips to his chin, and Mori tugs at his collar to get an opening at his neck.

They’re interrupted by an urgent knock on the office’s door.

Akutagawa immediately lets go, quickly fixing his coat and wiping his mouth clean. They're back in less compromising positions by the time the door opens, and Mori schools his features to appear as unbothered by the interruption as possible.

“Some small organization has been trying to take parts of our territory,” the newcomer explained quickly. “They’re taking advantage of the fallout of the war with the Guild.”

“I see.” He smiles amiably and turns to Akutagawa, who manages to look only mildly embarrassed. “Akutagawa-kun?”

“I’ll take the Black Lizards; we will handle it.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Akutagawa bows, turns on his heels and leaves.

“They won’t trouble us for long,” Mori tells their unwanted guest. “Don’t worry.”

It’s not often Mori indulge in a treat, a little something to enjoy himself, but he can make an exception. He watches the boy go — tall and thin, wrapped in his black coat, looking almost delicate.

Giving Akutagawa what he wants is easy.

“Close the door, will you?”

Akutagawa stills. “The executives will arrive for a meeting in ten minutes,” he says.

“One more reason to get to it, isn’t it? And please, do not to forget the lock.”

He hasn’t finished his sentence that the lock clicks into place and Akutagawa crosses the office to meet him.

Mori stops playing with his scalpel and sticks it into the wood of his desk.

What Akutagawa wants is simple enough: a word of praise, to have worth in someone’s eyes. He’ll deny it to hell and back, but he, as much as the people he claims to despise, puts his own worth into the hands of others.

He wants appreciation.

How foolish of him.

But how can Mori not appreciate how pliant Akutagawa is under his fingers? How he allows him to touch and kiss and cut as he sees fit?

Akutagawa is a brat, prone to run off ignoring orders and act rashly, he knows it.

But this is one of the few times Akutagawa is fully obedient, so how can he not enjoy the docility of his usually spirited attack dog?

The boy starts to take his coat off, but Mori stops him, taking a hold of the edge of his clothes. “I would rather do this myself, if you don’t mind.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Sliding the coat off his shoulders, he lets it fall in a rumple on the floor. The cravat goes next, and by the time Mori’s hands are getting to his belt, Akutagawa holds onto him and pulls him into a messy, needy kiss.

Mori permits it, too.

He caresses from the line of his collarbone to the curve of his hips to the soft skin of his thighs, and Akutagawa gives up control, letting Mori move him as he wishes.

Akutagawa’s eyes are fixed on the scalpel still stuck in the desk, almost standing straight, only a few inches away from his face. He has been staring at it since they have gotten started.

Mori smiles, catching the skin of his neck between his teeth, gives it bite and moves his hips.

It draws a gasp out of the boy’s mouth. His body trembles, fingers clench, trying to grip on the smooth wood under him.

Soon, the scalpel finds its way in Mori’s hand. Akutagawa shivers as he rests the blade on his skin — from the cold of it and from anticipation.

Scars already litter his back, and he traces them lightly. Most dating back before he even joined the Mafia, others a result of training and lost battles, and a few fresher: one, claw-shaped and the other an obvious remnant of the fight against Fitzgerald.

Some Mori has left there himself.

He presses his scalpel a little harder on one of them, just under the shoulder blade.

Blood pearls, and Akutagawa’s inhales sharply. He lets out a choked moan when another cut is made, the sharp pain of it leaving him breathless. It runs slowly down his back, following the lines of his muscles, until Mori fingers dip in it and spread it on his skin like red paint.

He moves again, harder this time, and Akutagawa’s voice rises, quick and struggling to get the words out of his mouth — it’s a litany of Mori’s name and please for more.

Mori obliges, dragging the blade on his skin and snapping his hips until Akutagawa cries out, until his whole body tenses and goes boneless. Mori’s own release comes soon after, and he takes a few second compose himself.

Leaning back, he lets the boy catch his breath, admiring his handiwork, from the bloodied skin to the patchwork of red marks all over his neck and shoulders. He waits for the moment the pain dulls, for his muscles to relax and for the bleeding to slow.

All black, and white, and red.

They’ll need to disinfect all this before he can go. “Don’t move,” he orders, and Akutagawa lays motionless, waiting. He takes supplies out of one of his drawers and cleans the cuts, one by one, carefully.

They may be finished for now, but the tension in the boy’s jaw as the dull throbbing turns into stinging pain again has Mori’s blood singing.

“You were so good for me today,” he tells him, running a hand through his hair as he works.

His loyal, faithful dog.

When he’s done, he pulls away, his hands leave his body, and Akutagawa pushes himself up to start looking for his clothes.

“I have a spare shirt I will give you,” Mori says, stopping him as he goes to grab his own.

“Mine is fine.” He inspects it with a critical eye. “If there is blood on it I can—”

“Nonsense, nonsense!” Mori waves him off, before finding the shirt in question. He grabs his wrist and tugs him away from the desk to drape the shirt over his shoulders.

The boy obediently puts his arms through the sleeves.

Buttoning it up, Mori hums. “It suits you.”

It’s the right length, but a little too large on the shoulders. It doesn’t matter.

Few things are more satisfying than having someone wears the clothes you choose for them. While he likes Elise's constant complaining about it, he doesn’t mind the change to Akutagawa’s more indulgent disposition on the subject.

As he fixes the collar, he makes sure the bruises on his neck stay visible.

Besides, it keeps away people who might want a taste of what’s his.

#bsd #bsdrarepairvday #moriaku #akumori #unsafe #cutting tw #blood tw #see content warnings above the cut #tumblr i'm begging you don't break the read more on this one #i can't believe i'm going to post this #i'm not confident at all about this #boy what else is new

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enaxii · 5 years

Text

the art of falling in love

link to ao3 in the notes

summary: Dazai Osamu cannot love.

(Or so he says.)

The first time, they are 15. Dazai stands over the corpse of a dog, a bullet lodged though it’s head from the gun in his hands. The dog had been, for whatever peculiar reason, following him and Chuuya around the neighbourhood, but it was beginning to annoy Dazai with its relentless barking. Gun in hand, he found his solution to that particular problem.

“What the hell, shitty Dazai?!”

Despite deciding to put in effort to dispatch of this thorn himself, Dazai is being yelled at.

“It was just a goddamn dog, couldn’t you have left it alone?”

Chuuya’s glaring at him from under the brim of his hat, and he rolls up his sleeves before squatting down to cradle the dog’s carcass in his hands. Dazai watches, almost bemused, as Chuuya brings the dog to the sidewalk and quickly buries the dog with help from his Ability.

“Huh... You’re pretty upset over this. Why? There are millions of better dogs out there. That one was just an annoying stray.”

Chuuya glares at him.

“Yeah, well, it was just following us around, wasn’t it? It’s not like it was doing anything to us!”

At this, Dazai understands.

“You were attached to the dog, weren’t you?”

Chuuya splutters indignantly, but doesn’t deny the claim.

“Oh Chuuya, you must know that I can’t love, right~?”

He singsongs, dancing around Chuuya’s shriek of “What the hell, it’s not love-”, nimbly leaping out of reach of his kick.

“And besides, you’re my real dog, anyway~!”

Dazai sprints down the street with Chuuya yelling bloody murder, and the dog carcass lies forgotten in its grave.

The next time, they’re 18, and Odasaku is dead. Dazai feels- many things. Too many things, all jumbled up where before it was just a cold apathy. He’s never felt this numb, No Longer Human pulsing through his veins, but yet he’s never felt this... alive either, the rush of grief and determination, the final gunshot ringing through the air and-

“ODASAKU!”

Like lightning flashing through the sky, painting the heavens in a bright light before returning to its gloom, and a downpour begins, the clouds weeping perfect tears that drench the parched earth.

Dazai finds himself outside the mansion, rooted to the ground even as the rain pours around him, unable to move. His legs will not move, will not move , and instead, he collapses into the dirt, hand pressed to his mouth till he can feel the imprint of his teeth on his palm.

Dazai can’t breathe, can barely feel himself through the pounding of his heart and the pounding of thunder, a sudden crack of the skies splitting into half. It feels like the very cosmos are falling down around him, drowning him in the flare of stars so bright that he cannot look at it, and he feels like a flower wilting under the blinding light.

When the light clears, he finds himself still rooted to the spot by the gate, but there’s an umbrella held over his head and a jacket draped over his shoulders.

Chuuya stands beside him, in the rain, his expression unreadable.

“You really do love him, huh?”

Dazai tried to suppress a laugh, but it bubbles up in his throat anyway.

“S-silly Chuuya, I can’t love, remember?”

Dazai doesn’t know who he’s convincing, but Chuuya doesn’t reply. Instead, he stands in the rain, holding out an umbrella as he wordlessly watches Dazai.

When he decides to disappear barely a day later, Dazai doesn’t say goodbye.

And after that, they’re 22, and they’re on opposite sides of the battlefield.

Dazai’s smiling freely amongst the members of the Armed Detective Agency, and Chuuya’s doing whatever Executive business he needs to do in the Port Mafia.

They’re 22, and then suddenly it’s like they’re 15 because they’re fighting together, again. They are both there to rescue the twice-accursed Q and possibly prevent Yokohama from falling into mass destruction.

They (Chuuya) dispatch the first lineup of guards with laughable ease, and then Lovecraft decides to wake up and there’s really no more ease to laugh at.

They try some strategies that Dazai already knows will fail, and he casually shoves Chuuya towards their only ticket out of this situation.

The howl of the winds when Corruption activates tear trees from their roots, and Dazai watches the show with utmost interest. It has been, after all, a good 4 years since he last saw the hat rack, and with that, it has been a good 4 years since he’s seen Corruption. Chuuya shrieks unearthly shrieks when he summons the writhing mass of gravity, Arahabaki straining to leave its host and wreak havoc upon the world. Red dances across the skies and Chuuya’s skin, streaks that almost take Dazai’s breath away.

Dazai delays for as long as he possibly can, lets the odds of survival drop lower and lower still, before he finally activates the bomb and lets Chuuya take care of the rest.

“You’ll take me back to the extraction site...”

Chuuya’s smirk is painful and bloodstained, punching Dazai weakly in the chest before he finally loses the battle against sleep and falls against Dazai, unconscious.

Dazai sits there for a long time, Chuuya’s head in his lap and the remains of the forest around them. One hand rests awkwardly on top of Chuuya’s curls, and Dazai knows exactly what the pounding in his chest means.

“Silly, I can’t love.”

He says it in a whisper, and he’s almost terrified, the most terrified he’s been in a long, long, time.

Dazai leaves Chuuya in the clearing, but folds up the jacket and gloves before he leaves, smoothing out the creases in the silken fabric.

He leaves no message but the untouched hat, placed neatly on top of the pile.

They’re 23.

The Decay of Angels have descended upon the world, and they bring with them countless Rats that almost overwhelm them with sheer numbers.

Yet again, the Port Mafia and the Agency find themselves in an alliance, and yet again, Dazai and Chuuya find themselves on the same side of the battlefield.

Yokohama is in chaos, bodies lining the streets in a red carpet of blood, waiting for the next strike of the goddess to smite them all.

Dazai has not slept in a week, staying up to plan and plan and plan, to predict his enemy’s moves and then his own moves and then his enemy’s moves to those moves, and- and it shows in the bags under his eyes, the tremor of his hand, the shake of the marker that falls from his grasp one too many times.

Kunikida decides that Dazai is more use sleeping than doing work, and when Dazai refuses to sleep, Kunikida tells him to at least take a break.

Dazai takes a walk.

He literally runs into Chuuya, parrying against an entire mob of Rats and whatever civilians the Decay of Angels managed to claim and control.

The past weeks have been hell for the entire of Yokohama, and it shows in Chuuya's struggle against what normally would have been an easy job.

Chuuya takes one look at Dazai, yells “Shitty mackerel!” and activates Corruption right there and then.

Dazai tries to enjoy the view of Chuuya mowing down enemy after enemy, but his eyes cannot focus and his legs cannot stand. He barely manages to avoid the gravity bombs and make it to Chuuya unscathed, gripping Chuuya on the wrist to put the god within him into slumber.

Chuuya collapses against Dazai, and his own legs finally give. Dazai falls forward, and they both tumble to the hole-riddled pavement, Chuuya’s back cracking against the concrete.

He lets his pain be known through a sharp exhale and a colourful curse, but Dazai’s mind is foggy. Everything swims before him, his tongue sitting dry in his mouth.

“Oi, Dazai-”

Chuuya’s eyes widen, his gaze locking on something behind them. In a swift motion, Dazai feels himself being lifted and his back slammed down onto the pavement, Chuuya twisting his body around his.

Bang.

Chuuya chokes and coughs up blood onto Dazai’s face, and crumples against Dazai’s chest, giving him a full view of one man, one remaining survivor despite the gaping hole in his side, slumping to the floor, gripping a smoking gun.

“Chuuya.”

Dazai grips Chuuya by the shoulder, desperation digging his nails into his skin. The fog in his mind clears, adrenaline pulsing through his numb body to focus his eyes on the spreading patch of red on the front of Chuuya’s jacket.

“Chuuya, god, please-“

There’s tears in the corners of his eyes now, liquid mixing with the bitter copper blood on his face. Dazai shakes Chuuya, because please, please, not him, not him too, never him, not yet-

Thunder cracks across the skies, and Chuuya’s eyelids flutter, his gaze slowly trailing across Dazai’s face.

He inhales, coughs, and retches, spitting out another mouth of blood, but yet there’s almost a lazy smile on his face.

“Huh... What’s with that face, shitty Osamu?”

Dazai’s breaths hitch, the vice on his heart closing tighter and tighter till it almost feels like he’s the one dying instead, suffocating in the open air.

“Guess... guess you can love after all, huh?”

Chuuya coughs again, once, twice, and then his breaths stutter, stutter, stutter-

and he stills.

Dazai screams, then, lightning flashing to let loose the barrage of rain from weighted clouds.

Please.

He hugs Chuuya close to him, warm blood still seeping out slowly, the rain soaking them both and washing away the red that stains the floor.

#bungou stray dogs #soukoku #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #dazai #chuuya #major character death #my writing

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detortum · 7 years

Note

▲ ★ ☪ ☁

send me a symbol for…

▲ five time my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did.

1. Dazai was lazing around at Chuuya’s apartment, at first having come here for business matters, but he stayed so he could bother his lover. At some point he ended up staring at the redhead filling in a report, the focused frown becoming visible, the lips a fine line, but not taut. Dazai wondered if he would get hit if he decided to kiss him now.

2. Dazai rarely slept and if he did then it was a few hours at max. This was one of his sleepless nights. He didn’t pick up a book to read so instead, he ended up staring at Chuuya’s peaceful expression. He looked so innocent, which was indeed a surprise. His finger went up to touch the other’s lower lip, fighting the urge to peck them with his own lips.

3. Sometimes, keeping their relationship really was no fun, because the urges and cravings for physical contact bugged him at odd times. He could easily spend time with the other without even so much as poke him for hours on end, especially when they were alone. But sometimes, when they were in public, the craving to have him close was there, like now. It wasn’t easy to always be with his lover if he couldn’t so much as kiss him.

4. He was alone at home. They’d both been busy lately and unable to see each other except for brief moments at Headquarters or during a mission, but not to be with each other as a couple, alone. Dazai sometimes ended up fantasizing (was that normal?) about Chuuya kissing him and him kissing Chuuya. It wasn’t the real thing, but at least that way he could bear not being with his lover somewhat.

5. Another time it made it hard for him to hold himself back in public was when they were out, eating. They were eating their dessert when Dazai caught Chuuya took a bite off a small strawberry. Honestly, kissing Chuuya’s lips would be a far better dessert…

One time he did:

Chuuya had defeated the enemy by the use of his Corruption. He was still raging and tearing everything apart when Dazai walked up to him, cupped his cheeks and closed the distance between their lips for a moment or two. “You did it, beautiful. You can rest now.”

(other symbols under the cut)

★ five times my muse thought yours looked breath-taking, and the one time they voice it.

1. Funnily enough, he did enjoy Chuuya going on a rampage when he used his Corruption. It was a kind of beauty of its own. One of full release, not holding back and not caring about anything or anyone and Dazai honestly found it gorgeous.

2. The day Chuuya’s status was upgraded to become one of the Executives of the Port Mafia. He had his own subordinates and they all instantly showed the respect Chuuya now deserved and demanded. This place fitted him much better and Dazai couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his lips as he watched the other being promoted from a short distance.

3. Another time when Dazai watched Chuuya sleep. His hair flowed like satin, so soft was his hair. His mouth hanging a little bit open and his closed eyes showing such peace, Dazai realized again how beautiful Chuuya was.

4. At the Onsen during Dazai’s birthday. He sat on the wooden floor just outside their room in his yukata watching Chuuya wash himself in the pond. Had he noticed him? Probably not or else he would’ve said something for sure. But the redhead looked gorgeous, the plainness and cliche scene gave it its own sense of beauty.

5. When Chuuya wore the kimono. No matter what happened that day, it was the first time Dazai realized how good Chuuya looked, even in the kimono.

One time he voiced it:

It… wasn’t special. Perhaps it was awkward even, but Dazai ended up combing Chuuya’s red locks. Even after all the dots were gone, he continued anyway, liking the simple gesture of gently pulling the comb and watch the hair fall into place. When he finally decided he continued on long enough, he put the comb away and wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders, pulling him against his front since he sat behind the redhead on the couch. Nuzzling his nose in his lover’s hair, he hummed. “You’re beautiful,” he managed to mumble before closing his eyes and enjoying the warm comfort settling in his chest.

☪ five times our muses almost hold hands, and the one time they do.

1. He was about to take Chuuya’s hand, subconsciously wanting to reassure himself when one of his subordinates walked in.

2. He managed to brush his hand past Chuuya’s. They were surrounded by other people but Dazai did it briefly while not managing to grab his hand instead as at that moment one of those around them decided to address him about the job at hand.

3. Chuuya was using his Corruption. Dazai wanted to end it by taking his hand, but the other managed to avoid him and wanted to attack him when he managed to grab his wrist instead.

4. Ah.. Chuuys was angry with him and when Dazai actually wanted to reach out he slapped his hand away. Clearly the fiery redhead needed some time alone before he could attempt this kind of contact again..

5. At the Onsen. They were enjoying the local festival. They wore masks that covered their eyes and each their own yukata. No one could possibly recognize them. Dazai was about to take Chuuya’s hand when a child bumped into him… with their ice cream now on said yukata…

One time they did:

He didn’t know it would be the last time. He didn’t realize it during the moment and the moments after it. Dazai had been out of it all the two weeks after he lost his one friend, Odasaku. He didn’t care whether others, including Chuuya, knew what happened or not. He was staring at the sea on the Port and forgot he wasn’t alone until he felt a smaller, gloved hand slip into his left one. Tangling the fingers and squeezing a little in Chuuya’s hand, Dazai turned his face to look at his lover. He came to love him. He really did, but Odasaku’s promise took priority.

☁ five times my muse has thought about yours, and the one time they do something about it.

1. He stared at a similar version of himself, sitting in front of him in the same posture, knees up, bleeding arms and hands in his hair. There was only one difference Dazai knew for certain. The other didn’t look terrified, not like Dazai did. It looked challenging as if urging him to do something. Dazai wanted to escape this ‘ghost’ since he knew this wasn’t his reflection in the mirror. This was his exhaustion and depression catching up, right? That was it, right? He was going mad, that’s what. It would disappear if he went outside, found someone, someone… like Chuuya! But the other was in the middle of a job and he wouldn’t meet Odasaku and Ango until later that night.

2. Would Chuuya cook for him if he visited him now? The thought was fleeting and honestly, Dazai didn’t feel like getting up now. He was enjoying reading his book and drinking his fill too much to care.

3. nsfw warning! Every man had his needs. However, to Dazai it didn’t happen often. With that, he meant feeling the need to release, to pleasure himself or to have someone else show this pleasure. It would be nice if Chuuya had been here now. He could’ve enjoyed his company, physically that is. Perhaps they could go further than they usually did. It would only be normal, right? They were a couple after all. His hand went to his bundle, caressing it while he thought of Chuuya, realizing how odd this was and felt because he didn’t usually do this, not while thinking of Chuuya doing the same thing or him doing it to Chuuya..

4. Six months during his disappearance to clear his name just enough so he could be hired by the Detective Agency. His mind wandered often, especially to his boyfriend, Chuuya. Well, he supposed their relationship was over now. Would the redhead ever forgive him for what he did? It was better this way. He even went as far as to blow up his car just to make the other hate him enough not to miss him. He wondered if it worked…

5. He hadn’t seen Chuuya for several days now. It seemed he was on a job, one he needed to go out of the city for. He missed him, funnily enough. When would he be back?

One time he did something about it:

He wondered where his lover was. It was a fleeting thought, but the more minutes passed the more pressing the thought became until Dazai decided to give in to the impulse and decide to find the redhead. He called him, but he didn’t pick up. He drove by his apartment, but he wasn’t there either. So he went to one of the bars protected by the Port Mafia where he finally found his drunk boyfriend.

“It’s time to go home, partner,” he called out, not wanting to risk anyone thinking they shared a personal relationship, so he called him his partner this once.

#nakxhara #;answered #{ chuuya; whispers in the dark }#;v demonic prodigy #oh gosh this took me so long haha #i hope you enjoy it <3

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cyuya-nakahara · 7 years

Text

A Different Sort of Dance - Ch 2

read on ao3

Dazai arrived at the café the next day at 2:30, determined to be there when Chuuya arrived.

Chapter 2

Dazai arrived at the café the next day at 2:30, determined to be there when Chuuya arrived. He had so many things to say, so many questions to ask, he was so...intrigued. He wasn't even sure why. The air that the redhead gave off was alluring, and the way he fought was incredible to watch. He'd been watching him raise hell in the various clubs that the Port Mafia controlled for weeks. And that was just how often he'd been around to watch. In truth, he'd requested after the the second incident that his subordinates page him whenever fights broke out, specifically so that he could have a chance to see him fight again. Most of their clubs were close together, so he could quickly make it elsewhere. And oftentimes, it paid off. Oftentimes, it was him.

In truth, the only reason that the higher ups didn't know enough to to care about the incidents was because Dazai was controlling the flow of information to them. He needed the Boss and other executives to stay out of it until he got what he wanted. Besides, the clubs they controlled were his territory anyway. As far as these clubs went, he was the boss.

The problem was that he didn't know exactly what he wanted from the other man. He didn't know what it was that he needed. And he didn't know how to get it. He'd tried to fix it the night before, but somehow all he'd done was make the feeling stronger when he was trying to get it to go away. Something just pulled him toward him, and he couldn't get him out of his head since the first time he saw him raising hell in one of his clubs. He'd just chocked it up to a desire to hire him at first. To be fair, he still wanted to —the Mafia could always use some extra muscle. But he had a feeling that that wasn't all he was interested in.

Dazai checked his watch. 2:59. Chuuya would be arriving soon.

...Except Chuuya never did, and almost a full hour later, Dazai accepted that he'd been stood up. He supposed that he couldn't complain. He hadn't negotiated a time or date or even left a number. But nevertheless, he was disappointed.

As the day drew on, Chuuya stayed in Dazai's thoughts as he oversaw deliveries of drug cargo to his different establishments. Sure, his clubs were clubs, and people did come to drink, dance, and have a good time, but the definition of "a good time" was subjective. The real business he was running was in the designer drugs they sold behind the scenes, a different drug for each club. That was how clubs got regulars in his part of town. People tended to stay out of his neck of the woods unless they were after something illegal.

Chuuya, however, never bought any drugs, and barely bought alcohol, but still showed up several times a week. It seemed to Dazai that he was after a different kind of fix, and it was quickly becoming Dazai's favourite pastime to ponder what it was. Chuuya may have said he was just there to dance, but if that was all he was after, the gay bar Dazai ran just down the street would have been a much better place to frequent. The redhead was never so much as reported as a patron in that one, though —according to his subordinates, Chuuya had never so much as walked through its doors. So it stood to reason, Dazai figured, considering all that Chuuya had told him, that it was the possibility of a fight that excited the redhead. The possibility, not certainty. A fight wasn't hard to find in this part of town, so Chuuya must enjoy the thrill of the gamble.

"Sir."

Dazai was pulled from his thoughts to mark the delivery complete. He groaned as he realised he still needed to supervise deliveries to three other clubs before his establishments started opening in a few hours.

After Dazai had left, Chuuya had spent the rest of his Sunday at home. Usually he didn't leave until he'd danced or fought to his satisfaction but...he just couldn't go back to the dance floor and pick another. The whole encounter had thrown him off wildly, so he just went home.

Everything about what had transpired was so...odd, and Chuuya lingered on it at home, turning the man's entirely useless business card in his hands as he laid in bed.

"Are you here to dance or raise hell?"

God, he was so stuck on that. The way the man's expression shifted so much he looked almost like another person. The change in his tone. He went from looking like a deer stumbling through the encounter to looking like something Chuuya couldn't quite describe. Something far less innocent. Something that knew him, and saw straight through him. Something that dared him into a different sort of dance than he'd been trying for.

That's what it had felt like. Their whole encounter, from his initial request, to Dazai leaving in a hurry, had been a dance. They just hadn't been using their bodies.

The next day, Chuuya didn't bother going to the café Dazai had asked him to. It wasn't even a date as far as Chuuya saw. Dates were organised, this was ordered. He wasn't into that. Even if he'd been desperate to see the guy again, nothing would have made him go to a rundown café by someone else's order. It wasn't going to happen.

That said, he wanted to see him again.

In an average week, Chuuya only went out every few days to vent his stresses. But his usual stress relief had been interrupted last night, so there was no harm in trying again —or so he rationalised. He knew damn well as he walked past the bouncer at another shady nightclub that he wasn't there for any of his usual reasons.

But reasons aside, the second Chuuya stepped into the club and the heat of a room of churning bodies hit him while the fans blew on his face, the lights strobing and passing him over, stale cologne of lacklustre dates wafting into his nose, music pounding in his chest, he knew he was in his element. The Mafia could own the club, but as long as he was here, he owned this floor.

To his luck, he spotted his target toward the edge of the mess of other dancers, managing the crowd. He made his way over.

"Hey. You." He said, walking up behind him and putting a hand on his side, sliding in front of him the same way he'd done the night before. But instead of his flirty expression from before, he met his eye with an irritated look. He put his hands on Dazai's sides and pulled him closer, swaying his hips and holding his gaze as he danced.

"What kind of jackass gives a business card with only his name?" He grumbled.

Dazai chuckled at the sudden visitor, looking him over.

"What kind of loser wears hats like these?"

Chuuya curled his fingers around Dazai's belt, not breaking eye contact.

"I am at an excellent height and distance to ram my knee into your dick."

"So you're aware you're not even as tall as the other hat racks I've seen?"

Chuuya made an audible 'tch' and turned as he continued to dance

"I'm very aware of my size." He said. "Good luck getting to me with those jokes."

If it were anyone else, Chuuya would have left or started an altercation by now. But something about the man made him not want to leave, and the way they spoke felt so familiar. So natural.

"So really," Chuuya began, his tone softer as he ground down low and came back up, "Why don't you list a number or anything on your card? Defeats the point. And dance, you still owe me from last night."

Dazai laughed, but awkwardly obliged, or at least tried to, moving a little to the music.

"A name is all you need in my position in my line of work." He said coolly, attempting to turn Chuuya in the wrong direction for the hand he'd taken. Chuuya corrected the manoeuvre.

"And what position is that?" He asked.

"I control the clubs around here. All Mafia properties in this district are under my command."

Chuuya laughed.

"They picked a pretty weak boss. I could wreck you."

"I don't doubt it."

They awkwardly danced for a moment before a question pressed on Chuuya's brain.

"So if you think I'm so dangerous, why haven't you done anything? I'm surprised I can even walk in these places. I know I'm recognisable. You haven't even banned me."

He turned to face the brunet, staring him in the eye. Dazai looked back at him.

"I was hoping you could tell me." Dazai answered.

Chuuya cocked a brow.

"And how exactly am I supposed to know?"

"I was hoping something you said could make it clear to me. But I mostly just wind up wanting you to talk more."

"That's a really lame answer."

"Perhaps."

That said, it was the truth, or at least part of it. Dazai wasn't ready to admit to all the time he spent watching Chuuya's fights both in person and on footage, all the time he pondered the nature of the man that could capture his attention so well.

Chuuya didn't really need to hear those admissions to gather his own conclusion.

"You know, if you want a date, you should really just ask, dude. Actually ask, and not just throw out a time and place."

The redhead's comment caught Dazai off-guard as the smaller man once again lowered himself to the beat of the music and brought himself back up. He stood silently, just watching.

"That's what this is about, right?" Chuuya continued. "You got the hots for me at some point and didn't want to throw me out."

He paused, and caught Dazai's eye with a smirk.

"Is this why the higher ups you mentioned don't care yet? Do they even actually know?"

Dazai was silent. He wouldn't answer these questions. Not here, at least.

"How's Friday at 6?" He said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. Chuuya's smirk grew.

"Where'd you have in mind?"

"What do you like?"

"Good wine."

Dazai didn't really know much about where to go for that.

He took a slip of paper and a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down an address.

"Here," he said, handing it to Chuuya. "Pick a place you like, and we can meet here."

Chuuya took it and tucked it away into his pocket.

"Sounds good."

With that, Dazai turned and walked away into the crowd.

Typical upload schedule may be delayed by a week since I'll be posting again before next Sunday. This means YI(WI) will update next on either 5/28 or 6/4, depending on how the rest of this week goes. This fic should update the week following YI(WI)'s update. Ily guys! <3

#soukoku #dachuu #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #skk #myfic #mywriting #adsod #wow i cant believe its still trishas birthday #wild

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andregidesuggestions-blog · 7 years

Text

((This is another short fic based on discord’s comments and the prompt this time is the following:

“consider: oda lives au and then he also adopts kyouka”))

It was strange how things were.

Dazai wasn’t there for most of Odasaku’s life, but he felt like they were meant to be friends. Once he used to think that he could only wonder what went in his friend’s mind, not really being certain of it, but after all that they went through…

To start with, Dazai wasn’t there for Oda for most of his life. And even worse, wasn’t there when Oda needed him the most.

He could only imagine what would be of his life now if the bullet that hit Odasaku hadn’t barely missed his heart. If Dazai had arrived a few minutes later, maybe his friend wouldn’t be here anymore.

Maybe he wouldn’t have been beside Dazai for the most important moments of his life.

Come to think of it, Odasaku was always there for him, and never seemed interested in getting anything from that. It reached a point where Dazai started to forget what his life was when he still hadn’t met Odasaku.

He sat on his usual seat on the Lupin’s balcony and sipped on his drink. Everything was empty and silent, except for the presence of the bar owner that polished a glass and hummed to himself.

Dazai stared blankly at a picture on a wall in front of him, and tried to remember everything that they had gone through together after Odasaku almost died.

Odasaku had been there beside him when Dazai tried to recover his trust on Mori. Had been there when Dazai himself slit Mori’s throat and manipulated his pieces to become the mafia boss.

He had been there when another war broke out and Dazai’s head was the most coveted item in the entire city.

Was there when enemy organizations ambushed Dazai, and almost literally pulled his ass out of the battleground.

He was also there when Chuuya used his corruption and exterminated half of the organizations that had been targeting Dazai. When Dazai had been too slow to come for his ex-partner’s aid and Chuuya could not make it.

Odasaku was also there besides Dazai when a truce was made for Chuuya’s funeral to be held. There were quite a number of people that attended to the ceremony. Many were interested in seeing the coffin of the famous and infamous ability user being lowered on his grave.

The coffin had been sealed, of course. In the end, Chuuya’s body had been so disfigured by the backfire of the ability that it wasn’t possible to let the coffin open.

Oda had also been there when Chuuya’s subordinates had suddenly lost their leader and had no one to guide them. Dazai thought that it would be a good idea to let Odasaku take care of them.

The sound of steps coming down the stairs of the entrance of the Lupin pulled Dazai out of his trip through the memory lane and back into the reality.

He looked at the newcomer and smiled.

“Ah, there you are. I was wondering if I had arrived too early or if you were too late.”

Odasaku sighed and shook his head, “It was hard to lose the people who were following me.”

He swiftly went to Dazai and took a seat beside him. Odasaku took a moment to ask for a drink and then turned back to Dazai, “Isn’t it dangerous to meet here?”

Dazai sighed, “I was feeling a bit nostalgic.”

Oda takes a moment to ponder his words and then his stare falls on the picture on the wall.

“Hm…”

“How are Chuuya’s subordinates faring?”

Odasaku returns his stare to Dazai, but only for a short moment before he turns to stare at his drink.

“They are doing well.”

“Really? And here I thought you would have a few problems with Akutagawa.”

“He didn’t hurt me so far.”

“Oh? Did he try to attack you?”

Odasaku remains silent for a moment; it seems he’s trying to recollect all his experiences with Akutagawa so far.

“Only during training sessions.”

Dazai nodded. It was clear that Akutagawa must’ve tried to attack Odasaku at least a few times, but also clear that Odasaku was willing to let that slip. Even now that he was back to killing and had risen through the ranks of the mafia to be Dazai’s right-hand, he was still too kind.

Dazai raises his glass to his lips and absently sips on his drink.

“Did you call me here to talk about Akutagawa?” Odasaku asks. He already knows the answer, but he still asks anyway.

“Nope. I actually called you here to talk about Chuuya.” Dazai replies.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s talk about me. Preferably about when I will be able to return from the dead.” Another voice echoes in the air.

Both men on the balcony look at the entrance to see Chuuya coming inside. Even though his appearance is different (he’s wearing a black short wig, using brown contacts and wearing different clothes), his voice is still the same.

“Ah, and here I thought death would manage to finally change you, but you’re the same loud and annoying hat rack as ever.” Dazai comments seemingly disappointed.

Chuuya huffs, takes a seat besides Odasaku and asks for a drink for himself. Odasaku nods at him in greeting, and Chuuya respectfully nods back. They aren’t close, but also aren’t strangers.

“So, Dazai. For how long will I remain ‘dead’?” Chuuya finally asks.

“Ahhhh… Odasaku.” Dazai ignores Chuuya.

“Hm?”

“I think I’m becoming insane. We lost Chuuya so recently that sometimes I can still hear and see him, you know?”

Odasaku stares at Dazai.

“O-Oi! I’m still here bastard!” Chuuya protests.

“I can still hear him insulting me.”

“Tch!”

“If you can still hear him,” Odasaku starts, “Then maybe he has something important to say to you from the afterlife.” Odasaku knows better than to indulge in Dazai’s antics, but he still does so anyway.

“What the-”

“Ah. That may be true. Let’s talk about important things then.” Dazai’s expression suddenly becomes serious.

Both men in the room shift slightly on their seats and try to face Dazai when he speaks.

“Our enemies think that with Chuuya dead we are weaker now, and have lowered their defenses. Soon I will call all the executives in to deal the final blow on them and end this war once and for all.”

The air on the room seems to stay still as Dazai speaks. The weight of his words is heavy and the consequences of his orders are clear.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Chuuya asks.

“Exactly. Now that we are done with the serious business… Shall we enjoy this moment?” Dazai replies with a light smile.

The two other men nod and then the three of them remain silent, just occasionally sipping on their drinks.

“Hey, Odasaku.” Chuuya finally breaks the silence.

“Hm?”

“How is Akutagawa doing?”

Odasaku takes a moment to think again, scratches his chin a bit and then stares blankly at the wall in front of him as he replies, “He is doing fine. The boy grows stronger by the day, even if he’s a bit difficult sometimes. Also… He’s got a new subordinate recently.”

“A new subordinate…?” Chuuya asks.

Odasaku hums in response, “A little ability user girl.”

Both Dazai and Chuuya stare at Odasaku in silence.

“Tell me you didn’t adopt her too.” Chuuya says.

Dazai already know the answer to this question, but he’s interested in hearing Odasaku’s answer. He knows that Odasaku had already unofficially adopted the Akutagawa siblings.

Odasaku stares at Dazai first and then turn his head to stare at Chuuya.

“Is there a problem…?”

Both men on his left and right sides exhale audibly, and it is clear that they are internally facepalming.

Really, is there any kind of person that Odasaku isn’t willing to adopt?

#my writing #Oda Sakunosuke #Osamu Dazai #Nakahara Chuuya #Akutagawa Ryuunosuke #Izumi Kyouka #((can you tell I had a lot of fun writing this 4am ;3 ))

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lenin-it-to-win-it · 7 years

Text

“Once I believed love poems were foolish, yet now I do nothing but dream about love”

Summary: after a single drunken kiss blossoms into a wonderful relationship, Chuuya reflects on how his love for Akutagawa has grown since the day they first met.

Notes: okay so the beginning part of this is kind of a direct sequel to my first chuuaku fic, but if you havent read that, all you really need to know is that Chuuya got drunk and spent the night at Akutagawa’s apartment and they kissed, and Akutagawa is pining after him because he doesn’t think Chuuya really cares about him. also this was meant for rarepair week day five, so sorry this is a day late, ive been super busy and wasn’t able to finish on time oops! still, its here now and I hope you all enjoy it!

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It had been almost a week since Akutagawa had let Chuuya spend the night in his apartment. Akutagawa had hoped the memories would burn less brightly in time, that, swept up in the endless deluge of missions that characterized mafia life, he wouldn’t have time to recall how gentle Chuuya’s hands been, the warmth of his small body under the blankets, or the sweet sensation of those soft lips on his.

To the contrary, Akutagawa found himself thinking of Chuuya more and more as the days passed. He began drifting off mid-mission with a finger pressed to his lips, forgetting where he was for a moment as he pictured Chuuya sitting on his counter, laughing and drinking hot chocolate. Even when Akutagawa returned to the present and destroyed his enemies, he did so with a look of dreamy distraction on his usually taciturn face.

At home, he was even quieter than usual, staring in silence at the couch, the counter, the sink Chuuya had touched. Akutagawa laid in his bed for hours, wondering how it was possible to feel so cold when mere days ago he had felt so warm when he laid beside Chuuya. He buried his nose in the sheets and sniffed deeply, but he found only his own empty scent. Missing Chuuya, Akutagawa thought, felt rather like mourning someone who was still alive.

If Gin noticed a change in Akutagawa, she didn’t say. However, she did take to bringing him cups of tea when he was lying in bed, always giving his hand a quick squeeze before leaving without a word. The tea grew cold on the bedside table, untouched, until Gin swept in with another cup, beginning the cycle anew.

Then, one day-

“Executive Nakahara-san.”

Akutagawa glanced up from the papers he had been pretending to read so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. He, along with the other members of the Black Lizard Squad, were gathered in a mafia warehouse going over the briefing of their latest mission, when Hirotsu called attention to the little executive leaning in the doorway.

Chuuya’s pose in the doorway- an arm raised above his head, back slightly arched, one slender leg thrust out, hips slung to the side- was so seductive that Akutagawa could not help but wonder if Chuuya had practiced it ahead of time. The thought of Chuuya rehearsing in a doorway at home, scowling and jotting down notes about whether or not his arm was raised high enough to lift the bottom of his shirt just enough to expose a glimpse of his smooth yet muscled torso, would almost have made Akutagawa smile if the mere sight of Chuuya hadn’t sent his heart into a panic.

“So, Black Lizard Squad, eh? Long time, no see.” Chuuya looked around the room, his eyes seeming to skip over Akutagawa. “Well, I’ve got some good news for you- your mission for the day’s been taken care of.”

Akutagawa stared at Chuuya with wide, hungry eyes shining with desperation. Fortunately, Chuuya seemed to be looking at anything but Akutagawa’s face. Akutagawa clenched his hands into fists, not even noticing the slight sting as his fingernails bit into his palms. Why wasn’t Chuuya looking at him? Was he embarrassed? Akutagawa’s heart sank. Of course he was embarrassed; that’s all their kiss was to Chuuya- an embarrassment, a mistake, a moment of drunken indiscretion.

“You’re all free to go for the day,” said Chuuya with a careless wave of one gloved hand. Suddenly, his eyes latched onto Akutagawa, and a small smirk crossed his face. “Except for you, Akutagawa,” he said, his voice a low, sultry purr. “I have a special mission for you.”

The other members of the Black Lizard filed out in silence. Gin flashed a quick glance at Akutagawa over her shoulder. Even though she was wearing a mask, Akutagawa could tell she was smiling. He glared at Gin, but she just raised an eyebrow at him and left.

Once everyone else had gone, Chuuya crossed the room, slowly at first, his footsteps falling in time with Akutagawa’s pounding heartbeat. Then, without warning, Chuuya threw himself the last couple steps, leaping at Akutagawa and pinning him against the wall, plastering kisses on every inch of his face. “Damn it, Aku,” he breathed between kisses. “I’ve missed you these past few days.”

Akutagawa was too stunned to react. When he finally found his voice, it was breathless and faint. “You- you missed me?”

Chuuya laughed, incredulous. “Missed you? You’re all I’ve been able to think about! Every time I remember how you I felt when you held me, I-” Chuuya cut himself off, blushing. He offered Akutagawa a small, almost shy smile. “Yeah, I missed you.”

Akutagawa thought he had never seen Chuuya look as beautiful as he did in that moment, a soft smile on his face, cheeks slightly flushed, blue eyes shining with a clean, pure radiance as they drank in Akutagawa’s face. Looking Chuuya in the eyes was like staring at the sun: Akutagawa could only manage short bursts and sideways glances before his eyes started watering. It was too much, too strange to be the focus of such warm, luminous eyes. Akutagawa didn’t know what Chuuya saw in him, but he knew there was nothing within him worthy of such light.

“Aku, what’s the matter?” Chuuya asked. He lifted one hand to stroke Akutagawa’s cheek, then let it fall, taking a step back. “It seemed like you were into me before. But, then again,” he added, grimacing. “I was drunk off my ass and could’ve misread the hell out of the situation.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “This might not have been the best idea,” he admitted. Pause. “This might have actually been a really fucking stupid idea.” Chuuya sighed, staring at the ground. “Shit, Aku, I’m sorr-”

Akutagawa stepped forward and pulled Chuuya into a crushing embrace. “Don’t apologize.” Without meaning to, the words came out as a snarl. He paused and took a deep breath, hoping Chuuya couldn’t feel his heart pounding. “I-” Akutagawa swallowed, then coughed. “I-I liked it when you were kissing me,” he whispered, his words pouring out in a rush.

Chuuya’s face blossomed into a smile so wide Akutagawa wondered if his cheeks hurt. “Great, then we proceed as planned!” Chuuya took Akutagawa’s hand and pulled him forward, practically sprinting out the door. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Where are we going?” Akutagawa asked, as if the answer would have changed anything. Chuuya could have led Akutagawa into a pit of poisonous vipers and he would have followed gladly as long as they were holding hands.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Chuuya replied with a cryptic smile, whipping car keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his finger.

After a particularly enthusiastic twirl, the keys slid off Chuuya’s finger, but with a slight motion of his hand, they came flying back as if tethered to him by an invisible string. Akutagawa’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the keys soaring through the air, tracing a graceful arc as fluid and elegant as the brushstrokes of a master calligrapher. Even Chuuya’s ability was so beautiful. . .

Akutagawa coughed, using his free hand to cover his mouth. “Your ability, Nakahara-san,” he began, glancing at Chuuya’s face momentarily before dropping his gaze, embarrassed. “It’s very. . . efficient.”

Chuuya smirked. “Thanks.” He gave Akutagawa’s hand a quick squeeze. “You’re looking really efficent today yourself, Aku.”

Akutagawa blushed and scowled at the ground. “I look the way I always do.”

“Gorgeous?” Chuuya suggested. “Stunning? Breath-taking? The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life?”

The blush on Akutagawa’s cheeks darkened. “Don’t- don’t say things like that.”

“Babe, you’re blushing.” Chuuya smiled, caressing Akutagawa’s cheek. “I’m gonna keep saying things like that until the end of time,” he promised. Chuuya held Akutagawa’s face in his hands and tilted his head to the side for a moment, studying Akutagawa’s eyes. Before Akutagawa knew what had happened, soft lips pressed against his, pulling away almost as quickly. Far too quickly. “I’ll tell you how beautiful you are over and over,” Chuuya whispered, taking Akutagawa’s hands and squeezing them. “I’ll tell you so many times, you’ll get sick of hearing it.”

Akutagawa gazed into Chuuya’s eyes, blue and sparkling with infinite possibilities, like the clear sky above the haze of the city. What Chuuya saw in his ashen eyes, Akutagawa would never know. All Akutagawa knew was that, no matter how many times he heard of it, he could never get tired of Chuuya calling him beautiful.

***

Akutagawa was breathtaking.

They had been dating for months, but Chuuya still couldn’t seem to get over it, especially when Akutagawa seemed to grow more beautiful by the day. Akutagawa’s eyes never failed to captivate Chuuya; the softness that stole into them when he thought no one was looking melted Chuuya’s heart, and he never tired of realizing how his eyes were gray, not as steel is gray- firm and cold, unrelenting- but gray as mist is gray in the mornings, delicate and ephemeral. Akutagawa had always struck Chuuya that way, as if he could vanish at any moment.

Chuuya could still remember the first day they met. Dazai, of course, had dragged that poor boy straight to mafia headquarters without so much as offering him a change of clothes- he was still wearing an assortment of rags collected on the streets, as well as Dazai’s own black coat- or a bite to eat, and Akutagawa trembled with every step. Chuuya imagined the boy’s bones rattling beneath his skin, collapsing in on themselves whenever he stood still. The boy hardly spared a glance at Chuuya, enraptured with Dazai as he was, but for the brief moment their eyes met, Chuuya saw a flash of the helpless creature he had been before Kouyou had taken him in, mired in a burning, feral anger.

Dazai had seen that anger, too, Chuuya knew, and he would mold it into a weapon. He would turn the fractured pieces of this boy’s shattered-glass heart into knives, into shrapnel, and the fragile boy struggling to stay on his feet would become a ticking time bomb, living only to destroy.

And so Chuuya waited for him. He loitered outside headquarters long after Kouyou was expecting him home, until Dazai strode through the doors- cocky bastard, always strutting around like he owned the place- with his new protege lagging several paces behind him, coughing hard enough to make Chuuya wince in sympathy. Chuuya marched up to Dazai, glaring. “Where are you taking him?”

Dazai’s visible eye widened. “Who?” He glanced at the boy, dismissing the idea that he could matter in any way with a wave of his hand. “Oh, him.”

“Does he have a name?” Chuuya asked, crossing his arms.

Dazai stared at the boy for a moment and shrugged. “Do you, boy?”

The boy’s face fell; Chuuya gathered that he had probably told Dazai his name earlier, and the bastard was pretending to have forgotten. Chuuya’s full lips pressed together in a thin line, and he decided to go especially hard on Dazai the next time they were training together. Chuuya was so caught up in ways he would punish Dazai that he almost didn’t hear the boy’s name.

“Akutagawa.”

“Akutagawa-kun,” Chuuya said, smiling. “Nice to meet you, I’m Nakahara Chuuya.”

Akutagawa did not reply; he kept his gray eyes fixated on Dazai’s back.

“So, where are you taking Akutagawa-kun?” Chuuya asked a second time.

“Nowhere.” Dazai gave a careless shrug. “I don’t know why he’s following me, anyway,” he added, raising his voice slightly. “Mori-san said he could join the mafia; he’s on his own now.” Dazai turned to Akutagawa with a sickly sweet smile and made his voice mockingly warm. “You’re a big boy now, aren’t you, Akutagawa-kun?” he cooed. “Or do you need me to be your mommy?” he asked, his voice snapping right back into its usual coldness.

“Well, whose subordinate is he?” Chuuya asked, his voice rising. “I’m sure whoever’s in charge of him would-” “Mine.” Dazai studied his grotesquely long fingers. “He’s mine.”

“And you don’t even have a place for him to stay the night?” Chuuya cried, scandalized. “If I had subordinates, I’d at least try to take care of them!”

“That’s why precisely why you don’t have subordinates, Chuuya,” Dazai cut in coldly. “And why you never will.” Dazai swept off, leaving his partner and his new subordinate behind in the looming shadow of mafia headquarters.

After shouting a few choice curses at Dazai’s retreating figure, Chuuya turned to Akutagawa. “Sorry about that, Akutagawa-kun,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair “He’s my partner, and kind of an asshole, as you’ve probably figured out for yourself.”

Akutagawa coughed, saying nothing.

Chuuya extended a hand to Akutagawa. “You can stay with me for the next couple days, until you figure this whole thing out,” he said with a welcoming smile. “I’m sure Ane-san won’t mind.”

Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed. “Your sister?”

Chuuya nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t talked to her yet, but once I explain the situation, she’ll let you stay.”

“I have a sister, too.” Akutagawa spoke so quietly, Chuuya had to lean in to hear what he was saying. “I would not mind sleeping on the streets a few nights longer, but if a space in your home could be spared for her-”

Chuuya put his hand on Akutagawa’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, giving Akutagawa his most reassuring smile. “I’ll take good care of you.” Akutagawa coughed, neither agreeing or disagreeing, but his eyes were clouded with doubt. Still, he turned to a nearby bush and nodded, and an equally thin and ragged child rolled out of the foilage, holding a twig like a knife. “Gin,” said Akutagawa. “He’s letting us spend the night with him.”

Gin nodded in silence, giving no response when Chuuya tried to introduce himself.

“Tough crowd,” Chuuya muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and leading the way to Kouyou’s apartment.

Kouyou was less than pleased when Chuuya returned home more than an hour late with a couple of street orphans in a tow, but, just as Chuuya had predicted, she did not turn them away and, somewhat grudgingly, said they could stay for up to a week.

Chuuya had the next day off, and Akutagawa would not be given his first mission until evening, so they had an entire day to spend together. Although Akutagawa seemed content to lie in bed until his meeting with Dazai, Chuuya had other plans.

Chuuya had gotten up far earlier than usual to cook up a simple breakfast, making sure to set a plate aside for Kouyou; she had already left, but perhaps she would be hungry when she returned. Chuuya carried plates to each of the Akutagawa siblings. Gin woke up the moment she smelled food, devouring everything without pausing to taste a bite, but Akutagawa merely scowled and turned over, trying to go back to sleep.

Chuuya put a firm hand on Akutagawa’s bony shoulder. “Hey, you should eat something,” he said, setting the plate on the ground.

“I don’t need your charity,” Akutagawa snarled over his rumbling stomach.

Chuuya bristled. “And I don’t need your bitch-ass attitude, but I’m getting it anyway. Besides,” he added, inspired. “How do you think your meeting with Dazai’s gonna go if you collapse with hunger on the way there?” Akutagawa’s eyes widened at the mention of Dazai, and he began grudgingly picking at the food Chuuya had prepared for him.

“Thank you,” Gin murmured to Chuuya once Akutagawa left to go to the bathroom. “And Ryuu says thanks, too, but he won’t say it out loud.”

“That’s okay,” said Chuuya, feeling the beginnings of a smile on his face. “I’m not doing this because I want to be thanked.”

Later that day, Chuuya took Akutagawa shopping, convincing him that Dazai would much prefer it if he arrived at their meeting in actual clothes rather than rags when Akutagawa tried to protest. Akutagawa sulked as Chuuya presented him with various outfits, denying all of them seemingly out of spite, until finally settling on a white dress shirt with ruffles on the bottom. Then, catching sight of Chuuya smiling in the dressing room mirror, glowered at his reflection.

“I don’t like this shirt,” Akutagawa declared as they approached the register, clutching the shirt close to his chest. “But I dislike shopping with you even more. I’m only doing this to keep you from prolonging my suffering.”

Chuuya just laughed and paid for the shirt, as well as a pair of black pants and matching black dress shoes. At the last minute, after noting how Akutagawa took to the ruffled shirt, he threw a white cravat onto the pile as well.

They returned to Kouyou’s apartment so Akutagawa could change before his meeting with Dazai, and when he stepped out of the room, dressed in the clothes Chuuya had bought for him as well as Dazai’s black jacket, Chuuya’s breath caught in his throat.

“You look-”

Akutagawa glared at Chuuya, daring him to finish that statement.

Chuuya blushed “-warm. You look- you look really warm in those clothes. A lot warmer than you did in that old stuff, anyway.”

Beautiful.

That was what Chuuya wanted to say, what he meant from the bottom of his heart, and Akutagawa’s beauty only increased when he held still long enough for Chuuya to straighten the cravat around his neck, stiffening when Chuuya’s fingertips brushed against his skin. Akutagawa gasped slightly, then tried to cover it up with a cough.

Chuuya had found Akutagawa beautiful from the day they met, back when he was a ragged, rageful boy full of bitterness. He had seen the softness in his eyes when he spoke of his sister, the shadow of a smile in his face when he first put on that ruffled shirt, heard his gasp when Chuuya first touched him- he wasn’t used to being touched so gently, to hands meeting his skin with anything other than cruel intentions- and saw beauty.

Chuuya never could have predicted how deeply he would grow to love Akutagawa; now, he could never imagine who he would be if he didn’t love Akutagawa. Chuuya loved Akutagawa with all of his heart, and he was determined to shower Akutagawa in affection, to drown him in love until he had no choice but to accept that he was worthy of it. He wanted Akutagawa to know a love as faithful and constant as sunrise, so that a gentle touch did not startle him but felt natural, so that he no longer stiffened under Chuuya’s touch, but melted into it.

Chuuya wanted to love Akutagawa until he felt as beautiful as he was.

And now, Akutagawa was beautiful because he allowed himself to be. Akutagawa allowed Chuuya to brush his hair until it was soft as silk and shone like starlight, allowed Chuuya to gently massage lotion into his dry, aching hands, allowed Chuuya to cook not only breakfast for him but to offer food whenever he was hungry, always making an effort to stomach at least a couple bites of whatever Chuuya had made. Akutagawa allowed himself to be cared for, and his willingness to be loved made him more beautiful still.

***

“Ryuu. . .” said Chuuya, sing-song, as he held Akutagawa’s face in his hands. Akutagawa had not reacted when Chuuya crawled on top of him, but he gasped when Chuuya nuzzled his face into Akutagawa’s neck and left a trail of soft kisses leading to his collarbone. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Yes, you. Every day.”

Chuuya laughed, pulling back for a moment just so he could lean down and kiss Akutagawa again. “That’s good, baby. You deserve it.”

#bungou stray dogs #chuuaku #rarepair week day five #here come dat fic o shit waddup

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soukokuwu · 4 years

Text

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

TO CATCH A DREAM

》 fluff, for a change

》 word count: 2.3k

》 one of the prompts my sweet anon sent me, hope this isn’t too disappointing! (i’m also going to work on your other suggestions)

》 also, to the other anons— yes I’ll work on the Fyodor and Gogol requests too

“it takes you by surprise”

It had been, what, three years since you’ve left the Port Mafia? Why was it still causing an emptiness within you? Yes, it had been your home since you could remember, you practically grew up in the mafia. But Mori had practically sent Oda to his death. You had thought the world of Mori, admired him and his witty ways, how he managed to command the respect of such a huge organisation. But sending Oda into a suicide mission? Letting slip of the orphans under his care, using their death as a form of ‘motivation’?

That was too much. Way too much.

You weren’t close to Oda, not by a mile. You’ve only seen him interact with Dazai a few times, and other times you’ve only heard about Dazai rambling on about them drinking in Lupin. But you had heard enough about Oda to gain a certain amount of admiration for the man. He was part of the mafia, and yet you knew he could do much better.

His death led to Dazai’s departure from the Port Mafia. And yours.

The day he died, Dazai had visited you in the wee hours of the night, drunk and upset. He had told you everything. What Mori did, why he did it, what happened to Oda and what his last words were. It was the first and only time you’ve ever seen your best friend so distraught. You were in disbelief, but there was no denying– Mori could be that despicable.

You had packed up all your belongings and left with your best friend. It wouldn’t have been such a hard decision if there wasn’t anybody you would miss, but there was. And you couldn’t even warn him, you didn’t want to put him on the spot. If you told him you would leave, either one or two things would happen: he would help you keep it a secret or he would try to stop you. Both of it would end horribly, and you didn’t want to affect his life negatively. The Port Mafia was his home, the one place he felt that he belonged, and you didn’t want to take that away from him.

It had been three long years after you left the mafia and Yokohama. But now that you were back in the city, you felt emptier than you thought you would. As you took a seat on the ground, you peered out into the open sea. You remembered the last time you were here. With him. It was the last time you saw him before you left the mafia.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

“Do I finally get to call you mine?”

You shook your head at the redhead, exasperated, chuckling silently as you playfully pushed him. “Do you not get tired of asking me that?”

“Oh someone is still adamant on rejecting me, huh?” he droned on dramatically. The ginger poured some wine into your glass and looked up to the sky, pondering out loud, “Why doesn’t this beautiful lady want to be Mrs. Nakahara Chuuya?”

“Oh shut up,” you groaned, cringing at how cheesy he was being.

You got to know him through Dazai, since they had become partners, and he had transitioned into a dear friend of yours. It was always endearing to watch them squabble. Like two proud people who would never admit they actually work well together.

You remembered laughing a lot that night, wishing more nights could be like that. It was filled with innocent wonderment, the light brushing of your arms against his. The two of you were much more than friends and everyone could see that, but your aversion to anything that made you happy always reared its ugly head somehow.

The way you managed to ruin everything that made you happy the moment you obtained them– you didn’t want it to happen with Chuuya. You wanted him with you, forever, even if it meant you two weren’t together.

That night was filled with drinking wine and chilling by the seaside, talking about anything and everything all at once. You remembered laughing more than you did all day, and enjoying yourself more than you thought you could.

It ended when he realised you were getting a little too inebriated. He didn’t want you to be feeling too hungover the next day, he didn’t want it to affect your work. If you wanted to get wasted he would always entertain you on the weekends.

“Okay, we’re all out of wine tonight, let’s head back.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whined. You weren’t drunk at all, just a little light-headed. But you drank enough to be shamelessly honest. The normal you would not admit you enjoy the redhead’s company, but now the words were coming out unfiltered.

“Come,” Chuuya said, holding out his hand, patiently waiting for you to accept it.

You looked at him, dubious. “Come where?”

He sighed, hands reaching down to help you up, to which you resignedly complied. “I’m taking you home.”

A wave of surprise came over him as you replied, “As long as it’s you.”

Minutes later, you were clinging onto Chuuya for dear life. This was not what you had in mind when he said he’d take you home. You were practically standing on a small piece of land flying over the city, made possible thanks to Chuuya and his gravity manipulation. Thank god you didn’t drink that much, if not you were sure you’d be puking all over the city right now.

You were too busy burying your head in the crook of his neck to notice how much Chuuya was enjoying this. He was grinning widely, surprised to find that you were afraid of heights. Your face was all scrunched up in such an adorable expression of fear, and your hair was flowing so elegantly due to the wind. He tried to ignore the feelings bubbling up inside him, well aware you would only try to bury any that you harboured for him. If this was the only kind of intimacy he could afford with you, he would take it. He would enjoy this moment, hugging you and feeling your touch in return. This was better than nothing.

The trip home was quick, and you found yourself a little disappointed after pulling yourself away from Chuuya. He ruffled your hair affectionately after noticing your disheartened reaction. Why would you keep pushing him away when it’s evident that you wanted more? He always questioned himself of that, not that he ever allowed himself to actually ask you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable.

“Get some rest, okay?”

“Yes, dad,” you mocked, sticking your tongue out.

Chuuya couldn’t help himself. He laughed at how adorable you were being, ruffled your hair, and let a ‘cute’ slip out. Your eyes widened, astonished by the sudden compliment. It was funny, Chuuya had thought he would be more embarrassed, but somehow he liked this. Being able to tell you how he felt– he liked it. His grin turned into a soft smile as he gazed at you, ruffling your hair, before leaning down to place a kiss atop your head.

“Goodnight.”

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Your heart beat faster as you recalled his tender kiss. It was pure, which made it all the more precious. You knew you were still in love with him, but that was something you had tried to keep buried deep within you. It was hard enough getting you to admit that to yourself while you were in the mafia, it would be even harder now that you were practically a fugitive. You managed to always give yourself an excuse, claiming that if it was supposed to be then it would happen.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all.

The sun was setting over the horizon. The sky was painted in mesmerising orange hues. It felt calming, tranquil. You looked at your watch. It was almost seven. Time to get going. Dazai would start drinking without you at this rate. You got up and stretched, excited about meeting your best friend after three long years apart. You had heard he found a nice job and you couldn’t wait to get to know all about this new Dazai. With a slight skip in your step, you walked off.

“Who are you so excited to see?”

You froze at the friendly voice. The voice you’ve wanted to hear ever since you left. His shadow got closer to yours, and you could smell the familiar musky scent. You were stuck rooted to the spot, uncertain of what to do.

What was the best course of action here? It wasn’t like you could outrun him. You were still a Port Mafia fugitive, and he was still a Port Mafia executive, one very doted on by Mori himself at that. What if Mori found out you were here? What if he sent Chuuya here to test his loyalty? It would result in so much trouble. As much as Chuuya used to be intimate with you, you knew his role as executive would always come first to him. There was no escape if they already found you. Should you just jump in the river and hope you drown?

“Hey, I asked you something,” the redhead muttered impatiently. Once he realised you were too deep in thought to listen, he stepped closer toward you. Why are you shivering?

Panic was still afire in your mind. It was always a bad trait of yours. You weren’t very quick at thinking on your feet. Your mind was whirling through hundreds of different scenarios, but what happened next wasn’t something you would’ve thought of.

Arms embraced you from behind. From the corner of your eye you could make out his ginger hair, and you could feel his cheek against yours. His face was tilted in toward your neck, and you could feel his shallow breathing, your ears turning beet red from the proximity. You could feel his heart beat as he gently squeezed you, seemingly not wanting to let go. You had dreamt about this reunion countless times before, and now it was finally real.

“I- I was going to meet Dazai for a drink,” you choked out, half-surprised and half-terrified.

“Don’t be like that,” his warm, velvety voice pleaded.

The warmth in his tone calmed you down enough to make you stop overthinking the situation. If he was here to kill you, he would do it. If you ran, he would catch you in the end. Any kind of resistance would be futile. Any way this situation played out, you would be at his mercy. You might as well face your old friend genuinely. So you turned around, catching sight of that familiar face of home.

“Be like what?”

“Afraid of me,” he muttered. You could almost melt at his soft puppy-like expression. It almost looked like it pained him to see you. You wanted to assure him that you weren’t— not anymore, but you couldn’t get the words out. You were too happy. Tears were forming in your eyes. You didn’t even realise you had started smiling sweetly up at him.

Chuuya finally saw the smile that had been haunting him for years, the smile that he thought he’d never get to see again, the one he could only imagine being the reason behind. Now here it was, standing in front of him, and it was more magical than he thought it would be. He felt the glee building up inside him. The lady he was in love with since he first got to know her, the one that gripped his heart the instant he caught a glimpse of her smile and heard her laugh— she was back, and very real. This was not in his head. He enveloped you in another hug, a tighter one.

“Ditch him.”

“What?”

“Screw that shitty Dazai.” The ginger tucked your hair behind your ears before cupping your face with his gloved hands. “This time, come with me.”

There was a fire in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Right in this moment, he was determined.

“But what about the mafia?”

“Mori let you go,” Chuuya stated, much to your surprise. “He asked me what we should do the moment you and that bastard left. I told him you were just an assistant medic. You knew next to nothing about the Port Mafia’s top secrets. But I also told him that if you threatened our existence that I would be the one who would stop you. It pacified him enough.”

So that’s why nothing bad ever happened to you by their hands. Right till the end, even after you left, Chuuya still protected you. It didn’t take a genius to see how betrayed Chuuya felt after he heard you had left with his partner with not so much as even a warning. No note, no explanation. He figured out why you left, Dazai was your best friend after all and he knew Oda was someone you looked up to from afar. It didn’t ease his anger, though, because your wordless departure had left him feeling fucked up even months after. It was as though you thought he wasn’t worth any explanation. He had thought that he could never forgive you for leaving, but now that you were together again he forgot he ever got mad at you.

Slowly, Chuuya inched toward you, his face drawing closer. When there was barely any space between the two of you, he stopped to ask, “So what do you say?”

“Okay, let me-” Just as you were reaching for your phone to postpone your plans with Dazai, hands pulled you toward them, crushing their lips with yours. It was soft and loving, patient and sweet— everything you imagined and more. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away, reminding you of the endless possibilities of how this could all go wrong, why you should protect yourself from it. But this time, your heart had reign over you. You were back in Yokohama and you were here to stay. Maybe this warranted you a chance to make yourself happy, to stop pushing his affections away.

Chuuya stopped the kiss, slowly pulling himself away, eyes fondly looking into yours. His hand was still holding the back of your neck and his heart was still filled with overwhelming exhilaration at your return. “I’d love to catch up but first things first,” he said in between breaths as he continued kissing you, “are you going to stay with me this time?”

“Always.”

“That’s my girl.”

“there is no other”

#so frustrated my first draft was eaten up #but here have my fluff #bsd x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd oneshot #bsd scenarios #bungo stray dogs #bsd chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuya x reader #rachwrote #bsd imagine #bsd imagines

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