Game Changer & Make Some Noise
🪼
hello vonnie
tumblr dot com
shark vs the universe
NASA
𓃗
cherry valley forever
occasionally subtle
@theartofmadeline
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Jimmy Eat World
d e v o n
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
No title available
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Doug Jones
No title available
RMH
bliss lane
seen from Malaysia
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from Venezuela
seen from Greece
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@mentally-dating-dazai
Welcome! Grab a cup of coffee, and sit down to enjoy a little spicy bsd romance~
nsfw 18+
Requests are open! Please read my rules before requesting! I will be deleting request that go against my rules.
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
♡Dazai's Stories♡
♡Chuuya's Stories♡
♡Skk Stories♡
Question
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
Me Not Him
Just thinking about a Chuuya x reader where Dazai keeps pushing and teasing Chuuya, so Chuuya shows him exactly how to please you
Nsfw 18+
Based on this request~
2408 words
CW: Smut, dirty talk, rough, a few spanks, dazai watches chuuya fu!k you, hope I’m not forgetting anything~
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
You and Chuuya have been dating for a few months now. Chuuya has grown protective, if anyone even looks at you in a way he doesn’t like…well he’ll make sure they can never see anything again. Dazai, of course, has made it his personal mission to be the exception. He doesn’t touch you. He just… talks. Soft, lazy, endless little comments whenever Chuuya’s in earshot.
“Looking good today darling. That shirt’s doing you favors.”
“Chuuya’s a lucky bastard. Wonder if he knows it.”
“If short stack ever gets boring, you know where to find me.”
Chuuya grits his teeth every time. You’ve told him more than once that Dazai’s just being an asshole for sport. Tonight is different.
You’re sitting at the bar with Chuuya, nursing a drink and trying to enjoy a rare quiet night. It’s supposed to be just the two of you. He’s been in a decent mood for once, even cracked a small smile when you teased.
Then Dazai slides onto the empty stool on your other side. “Fancy meeting you two here,” he says lightly, already signaling the bartender. “Mind if I join? The company at the other end of the bar was dreadfully boring.”
Chuuya’s expression darkens immediately. “We do mind. Leave.”
Dazai ignores him completely, turning that lazy smile on you instead. “You’re looking particularly good tonight, darling. That color suits you.”
You feel Chuuya’s thigh tense against yours. You’ve told him a hundred times that Dazai only does this to get a rise out of him. Still, the constant low-level flirting never fails to grind on his nerves.
Dazai orders a drink, then leans an elbow on the bar, propping his chin in his hand as he looks between the two of you with open amusement. “You know,” he continues, voice just loud enough to carry over the music, “I’ve always wondered what it’s actually like for you. All that posturing, all that ‘I’m the best’ attitude… and then in bed he’s probably just average, no, below average. I bet a lot of grunting and not a lot of technique. I bet he tries hard, but always finishes within the first minute.”
You see the exact moment the words land. The way Chhuya’s fingers tighten around his glass. His jaw flexes once. Twice. Dazai keeps going, completely unbothered, eyes half-lidded and gleaming. “I mean, she’s being polite about it, of course. But you can tell. I mean she never looks completely satisfied. Must be exhausting, settling like that.”
Chuuya sets his glass down with deliberate care. “Say that again,” he says quietly.
Dazai’s smile widens. “Which part? The part where you’re mediocre in bed, or the part where she’s clearly used to better?”
That’s all it takes. Chuuya is off the stool in a blink. He grabs a fistful of Dazai’s coat, yanks him forward until they’re nearly nose-to-nose, and snarls low enough that only the three of you can hear it. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to talk about me. And you especially don’t get to sit here and run your mouth like you know a single fucking thing about what happens when the door’s closed.”
Dazai doesn’t even flinch. He just glances past Chuuya’s shoulder at you, still smiling that thin, sharp little smile. “Oh, I know enough,” he murmurs. “Enough to know you’re overcompensating. And enough to know she thinks met.”
Chuuya’s grip tightens hard enough that the fabric creaks. For a second it looks like he’s actually going to throw the punch right there in the middle of the bar. Then he shoves Dazai back onto his stool hard enough to make it scrape, turns to you, and mutters, “We’re leaving.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. His hand finds yours, firm and possessive, and he pulls you off the stool and toward the door without another glance at Dazai.
~~~
Chuuya’s hand stays locked around yours the entire way, grip tight enough that it almost hurts. His shoulders are rigid, jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscle jump. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk so you wait until you’re outside the apartment building. “He was just being an asshole. You know he only said it to get under your skin.”
Chuuya doesn’t answer. He just unlocks the door, pulls you inside, and kicks it shut behind you hard enough that the frame rattles. The second the door closes he has you backed against it, mouth crashing into yours in a kiss. His hands are already under your shirt, rough and impatient, like he’s trying to erase every word Dazai said. You push lightly at his chest. “Hey. Talk to me.”
Chuuya pulls back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark,and furious. “He doesn’t get to say that,” Chuuya mutters. “He doesn’t get to sit there and act like he knows a single fucking thing about what I do to you.”
You open your mouth to answer, but he’s already pulling his phone out of his coat pocket. He doesn’t even hesitate. He hits the contact, puts it on speaker, and waits. Dazai picks up on the second ring, voice light and amused. “Miss me already, Chuuya?”
“Get over here. You’ve got ten minutes.”
There’s a brief pause on the other end. Then Dazai’s voice comes back, smiling but sharp. “…Fine. I’m on my way.”
Chuuya hangs up without another word. When the knock finally comes he doesn’t even check the peephole. He yanks the door open, grabs Dazai by the front of his coat the second he steps inside, and shoves him hard toward the chair. “Sit.”
Dazai raises an eyebrow, still looking far too calm for someone who just got manhandled across the room. “And if I don’t?”
Chuuya’s voice drops into something low and dangerous. “Then I make you. Sit the fuck down.”
For a moment it looks like Dazai might keep pushing. Then he glances past Chuuya at you and something in his expression shifts. He lets out a soft, almost curious hum and lowers himself into the chair without further protest.
Chuuya doesn’t give him a chance to get comfortable. He grabs a length of soft rope from the drawer by the bed, and binds Dazai’s wrists to the arms of the chair with quick, efficient knots. Not tight enough to hurt. Tight enough that he can’t get free without effort.
Dazai watches the whole process with half-lidded eyes and that same thin smile. “Kinky,” he murmurs. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Chuuya finishes the last knot, straightens, and looks down at him with pure heat in his eyes. “You wanted to run your mouth about what I’m like in bed,” he says quietly. “Fine. You’re going to sit there and watch exactly how wrong you were.” He turns back to you then, expression still stormy but softer at the edges when his gaze meets yours. His voice drops. “Come here.”
Chuuya doesn’t look at Dazai again. He turns fully to you, and closes the distance in two strides. His hands find the hem of your top and lift it over your head. The fabric drops to the floor. He doesn’t rush. He works the clasp of your bra next, letting the straps slide down your arms before he tosses it aside. He peels everything off you piece by piece until you’re completely bare in the middle of the room. Dazai’s gaze is a heavy weight on your skin the entire time, but Chuuya never acknowledges it. He just keeps his eyes on you, hands warm and steady as they guide you toward the bed.
“On your hands and knees,” Chuuya says quietly. “Facing him.”
You climb onto the mattress and settle the way he wants, knees apart, back slightly arched, looking straight at Dazai where he’s bound to the chair. The position leaves you completely exposed. Chuuya steps up behind you, one hand settling at the small of your back while the other reaches around to cup your breast. He only plays with your nipples for a moment. Rolling one between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you gasp, before his hand drops away. You hear the soft sound of him undoing his own clothes. Then the blunt head of his cock presses against you.
Chuuya doesn’t tease. He doesn’t ease in. He thrusts forward in one smooth, deep stroke that forces the air out of your lungs and makes your arms tremble. The stretch is sudden and perfect and hard enough that your mouth falls open on a broken sound you can’t hold back.
Chuuya’s hands lock around your hips, fingers digging in as he bottoms out and stays there for a beat, letting you feel every inch of him. “Look at him,” he mutters, voice rough. “Don’t you dare look away.”
Chuuya pulls back almost all the way and drives back in harder, setting a deep, steady rhythm that rocks you forward with every thrust. The wet sound of it fills the room. Your fingers curl into the sheets. Your face is right there for Dazai to see—every flushed cheek, every parted lip, every little noise Chuuya wrings out of you on purpose.
Dazai’s voice cuts through the wet sound of Chuuya fucking you. “Look at that,” he drawls, shifting in the chair. He gives the rope a little tug, testing the knots with deliberate laziness. “All that effort and he’s still just… pounding away like a dog in heat. No finesse at all. You can see it on her face, she’s enduring, not enjoying.”
Chuuya’s grip on your hips tightens hard enough to bruise. He doesn’t even glance at Dazai. He just drives into you deeper, sharper, the slap of skin against skin growing louder. “Tell him how good it feels.”
You bite your lip, face burning. The position leaves you nowhere to hide—on your hands and knees, facing Dazai. Every expression and every broken sound on full display. Embarrassment crawls up your throat and you go quiet, only soft gasps escaping as Chuuya keeps thrusting.
The next second his palm cracks across your ass, sharp and stinging. “I said be loud,” Chuuya growls. He doesn’t slow down. If anything he fucks you harder, deeper, like he’s trying to force the words out of you with every snap of his hips. “Tell him. How fucking good this feels.”
Your voice comes out shaky and unwilling at first. “It—it feels good—”
Another slap, harder this time, the heat blooming across your skin. Chuuya’s other hand fists in your hair and pulls your head up so you’re forced to keep looking at Dazai. “Louder. Properly.”
“It feels so good,” you force out, voice cracking as he bottoms out again. “Fuck—Chuuya—”
Chuuya makes a low, satisfied sound and keeps going, relentless, insatiable. One hand stays tangled in your hair while the other slides around to rub tight circles over your clit. Every time your voice starts to fade from embarrassment he spanks you again until you’re moaning and gasping the words he wants without being asked.
Dazai watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, still giving the ropes occasional little tugs like he’s only mildly inconvenienced. His commentary stays soft and mocking the entire time. “Aw. Look at her, trying so hard to convince me. How much longer do you think he can keep this up before he finishes too fast and ruins the whole performance?”
Chuuya’s laugh is dark and breathless. “Keep talking, bastard. You’re about to find out exactly how long I can keep going.” He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in so hard your arms nearly give. Setting a brutal, unyielding pace that makes it impossible to stay quiet even if you wanted to.
Chuuya’s breath is hot against the back of your neck, voice low and rough as he keeps driving into you without mercy. “Gonna fill this cunt up,” he growls, hips snapping forward hard enough to make the bed creak. “Gonna pump you so full it drips down your thighs while he watches. You want that? Want him to see exactly who you belong to?” His hand in your hair tightens, forcing your head up so you’re still looking straight at Dazai. The other stays locked on your hip, pulling you back onto every thrust. “Say it. Out loud. Tell him how good this feels.”
Your voice comes out broken and shaky. “It feels so good—fuck, Chuuya—”
“Louder. And tell him the rest.” Chuuya spanks you again when you hesitate, the sharp sting making you gasp. “Tell him I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”
“You’re the only one,” you force out, face burning. “Only you—only you make me feel this good—”
Dazai’s soft, mocking laugh floats from the chair. He gives the ropes another lazy tug. “How sweet. Look at her, all flushed and obedient just because you told herto. Almost convincing.”
Chuuya doesn’t even spare him a glance. He just fucks you harder, deeper, the wet sound of it obscene in the quiet room. “That’s right. This cunt is mine. Takes me so fucking well. Gonna fill you up until you can’t take any more. Make you feel it for days.” One hand slides around to rub tight, relentless circles over your clit while he keeps pounding into you. The dual sensation builds fast. “Come on,” he mutters against your ear, voice strained now. “Cum on my cock. Let him see it. Let him hear exactly how good I make you feel.”
Your arms shake. Your voice cracks on a high, broken moan as the orgasm rips through you. Hard and overwhelming, cunt clenching tight around him while you sob out his name. Chuuya groans low and filthy at the way you squeeze him, hips stuttering for only a second before he chases his own release.
Chuuya buries himself to the hilt with a final, deep thrust and cums hard. He keeps grinding through it, making sure every drop stays buried deep, muttering against your skin the whole time. “That’s it—take it. Take every fucking drop. Let him watch me fill you up.” He stays locked against you for a long moment after, breathing hard, still buried deep while the aftershocks make you tremble. Only when the last of it has settled does he finally ease back just enough to look past you at Dazair. “Still think I’m average?”
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
❀ This one was so fun!~ ❣️
❀ As always room for improvement! Sorry about grammar and spelling😬
❀ Requests are open! 💡
❀ Comment, likes and reposts are much appreciated! 🫶
❀ Master list ✨
I know you may be busy with requests but I had a thought!
Imagine reader and chuuya are dating and dazai keeps flirting with reader, not trying anything but just doing it to tease chuuya. Dazai makes a comment about chuuya during sex and that tips him off
In return Dazai gets invited over and forced to sit in a chair while chuuya shows Dazai just how good he is with reader in bed!!
Working on this one!
i had this idea.. reader who gets insanely jealous if dazai talks to a woman even if shes just asking for directions ir smth work related , she doesnt wanna talk about it and gets grumpy and avoids dazai allllll day.. dazai gets fed up and confronts her and then lowkey punishes her (in bed) 👀 but at the same time hes showing her that she is the only woman he wants
Just posted!
Only You
Just thinking about a Dazai x reader where you get jealous, so he has to remind you that he only wants you
Nsfw 18+
Based on this request~
1,612 words
CW: Smut, rough sex, jealousy, hope I’m not forgetting anything~
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
It’s nothing. Literally nothing. Some woman on the sidewalk outside the Agency, lost, asking Dazai for directions to the nearest train station. He answers her politely with a soft voice, that mild little smile he uses on strangers. One hand gesturing down the street. She thanks him, bows, walks away.
You are already walking the other direction. By the time Dazai catches up you’re halfway down the block, shoulders tight, expression blank. He falls into step beside you like nothing’s wrong. He calls your name. You keep walking. He tries again at the corner. “She was just asking for the station.”
You don’t look at Dazai. “I know.”
“Then why—”
“I’m fine.”
You’re not fine. Your chest is hot and tight and stupid, everything is stupid. To make it worse every time you blink you still see the way she looked at him. The way women always look at Dazai when he bothers to be gentle. It doesn’t matter that it was directions. It doesn’t matter that he barely smiled. It doesn’t matter that he came straight back to you. You’re already ruined for the day.
You spend the entire afternoon in the farthest corner of the Agency archives, “organizing files.” You answer every message with one-word replies. When Dazai leans in the doorway and asks if you want lunch, you say you’re not hungry. When he brings you coffee anyway, you leave it untouched until it’s cold. When he tries to sit next to you on the couch in the lounge, you stand up and go to the bathroom and stay there until you’re sure he’s left.
You don’t explain that the second any woman so much as glances at Dazai your stomach drops and your throat closes. That all you can think is he’s going to realize you’re nothing special. You don’t admit that even the most innocent interaction feels like a threat. You just go quiet. Distant. Grumpy. By evening you’re still avoiding him, he finally loses patience.
It’s late. The city outside your window is quiet. You’re still curled on the couch in the dark, arms wrapped around a pillow, when the door to your apartment opens without a knock. You don’t even flinch. You already knew Dazai would use the spare key eventually. Dazai doesn’t turn on the lights. He just walks in, shuts the door behind him, and stands there for a long moment, watching you pretend you’re not watching him. “Enough,” he says.
You keep your eyes on the wall. “I’m tired.”
“No.” Dazai’s voice is soft, but there’s steel under it. “You’re jealous. You’ve been jealous since that woman asked for directions. Instead of telling me, you’ve spent the entire day acting like I cheated on you with a stranger on the sidewalk.”
Your throat tightens. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Dazai steps closer. “You went quiet. You stopped looking at me. You left every room I walked into. You ignored my messages, my coffee, me. All because I was polite to a stranger for thirty seconds.”
You finally glance up, defensive and miserable. “It doesn’t matter.”
Dazai’s eyes darken. “It matters to me.” He reaches down, takes the pillow out of your arms, and sets it aside. Then he cups your chin, tilting your face up so you can’t hide. “I’m done watching you punish both of us for something that meant nothing,” he murmurs. You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give you the chance. He leans down and kisses you—deep, deliberate, almost punishing in how thoroughly he takes your mouth. When he pulls back, his voice is lower. “Bedroom. Now.”
You hesitate just long enough for Dazai to raise an eyebrow. That single look is enough. You stand and walk. Heart hammering, while he follows close behind. The second the bedroom door clicks shut he is on you again. Crowding you back against the wall, hands already sliding under your shirt, mouth at your throat. “You think I look at any other women the way I look at you?” he breathes against your skin. “You think anyone else gets this version of me?”
Dazai’s hands are anything but gentle. He strips you efficiently, until you’re bare and he’s still fully dressed. Then he guides you onto the bed, climbs over you, and pins your wrists above your head with one hand. “I’m going to fuck the jealousy out of you,” he says, calm and quiet and devastatingly certain. “And while I do it, you’re going to listen.” He doesn’t undress right away. He just looks at you while his free hand trails down your body. When his fingers finally slide between your legs he finds you already wet, and the soft, almost amused sound he makes makes your face burn. “See?” he murmurs. “Your body already knows who it belongs to. Your head just needs catching up.”
Dazai works you open slowly at first, two fingers curling deep, thumb circling. Every time you try to turn your face away he forces it back. “Eyes on me.” You obey. He keeps the pace deliberate, fingers stroking that perfect spot inside you until your hips start to rock against his hand. The second your breathing gets uneven he slows down, almost stopping, leaving you aching and empty.
“Not yet,” Dazai says softly. “You don’t get to cum until I’ve decided you’ve learned something.”
You whine before you can stop yourself. Dazai just smiles—small, dark, satisfied—and starts again. Building you back up only to pull away the moment your thighs start to tremble. He does it twice more, three times, until you’re restless and frustrated beneath him, wrists still pinned, legs restless against the sheets. “Dazai—”
“Shh.” Dazai leans down and bites lightly at the side of your throat. “This is what happens when you shut me out all day.” Only when you’re shaking and close again does he finally pull his hand away completely. He undresses with unhurried precision, never looking away from you, and when he settles between your thighs. He doesn’t thrust in right away. He just rests there, the head of his cock pressed against you, waiting. “Say it,” he whispers.
Your voice comes out small. “Say what?”
“That you’re mine. That I’m yours. That no random woman on the street could ever change that.”
You swallow. “…I’m yours.”
Dazai pushes in halfway. “And?”
“You’re… mine.”
Dazai sinks the rest of the way in with one smooth, deep thrust that punches the air from your lungs. Then he stays there, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to yours. “Good girl,” he breathes. “Now take what I give you.” He fucks you like he’s making a point, which he is. Every time you try to hide your face he turns it back. Every time your eyes flutter shut he murmurs, “Look at me,” until you’re locked on him completely. “There is no one else,” he tells you between thrusts, voice low and rough. “No one else I come home to. No one else who gets to be jealous and stubborn and still end up in my bed.”
Dazai’s free hand slides down to your throat, not squeezing hard, just resting there. While the other keeps your wrists pinned. The angle is perfect and cruel at the same time; every thrust drags against that sensitive place inside you until you’re whimpering. When you start to tighten around him he slows again, almost stopping. “Not yet,” he repeats, quieter this time. “You spent all day making me wait. Now you can wait.”
You try to roll your hips up against Dazaiand he just presses you harder into the mattress, holding you still. The denial stretches out until tears prick at the corners of your eyes from sheer need. Only then does he start moving again, harder this time. “You are the only woman I want,” he says against your mouth. “The only one I think about. The only one who drives me insane enough to break into her apartment at midnight just so I can remind her.”
Dazai changes the angle, hitting that spot that makes your back arch. “So the next time some stranger asks me for directions, you can feel whatever you need to feel. But you don’t get to punish me with silence. You tell me. And then I will do exactly this—” He drives in deep and stays there, grinding against you until you’re shaking, right on the edge again. “—until you remember who I chose.” This time he doesn’t pull away. He keeps the pressure merciless, one hand still on your throat, the other still pinning your wrists, and growls low against your ear, “Cum. Now. On my cock.”
You break, clenching hard around him as the orgasm rips through you. Dazai fucks you through it without slowing, chasing his own release. When he finally cums it’s with a low, rough groan against your neck, hips stuttering as he empties himself deep inside you.
For a long moment neither of you moves. Dazai’s still buried to the hilt, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours. His grip on your wrists loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely. Just slides his fingers between yours and holds on. When he finally speaks again, his voice is softer. Almost tender. “I only want you,” he whispers. “Even when you’re being ridiculous. Especially then. Next time,” he murmurs against your temple, “talk to me. Or I’ll just have to remind you again. Until that pretty head of yours finally gets it through.”
The quiet threat sits between you like a promise. For the first time all day, the tight, ugly feeling in your chest finally starts to loosen.
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
❀ Hope this is what you were hoping for! Punishment can mean a lot of things❣️ Sorry I haven't posted in a while, I got lost on the path of life👀
❀ As always room for improvement! Sorry about grammar and spelling😬
❀ Requests are open! 💡
❀ Comment, likes and reposts are much appreciated! 🫶
❀ Master list ✨
IK IM SAYING THIS SUPER LATE AND IM SO SORRY ABOUT THAT BUT YOU'RE ONE OF MY FAVOURITE WRITERS HERE TYSM FOR LIKING MY DAZAI FIC 😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
Awww this is so sweet thank you! Loved your story so much!!
Hey guys I’m back! Working on requests, will be posting soon 🤞
Not requesting, I just love your name!!
Hahah thank you!! It took me way longer to come up with then I’d like to admit
hiiiii!! i hope youre having a good day!!! (^◡^) can i please request chuuya x fem pm reader smut? they've been friends for years (right before stormbringer) and chuuya is slightly overprotective and gets jealous of someone the reader has to flirt with on a mission, and eventually they confess and get together? can it please be kinky(condescending praise/praise, hairpulling, overestimation, and) but vanilla and sweet at the end + aftercare? with the petnames "doll" and "my love" please !!!
im so sorry of this is too long or confusing😓
Hello! This is a request I would totally want to do! Did you mean to put something after the “and” or was it a typo? I have a few other requests to do but will love to do this one when I’m done with the other ones!
Hii hru? Hope you’re doing very well !!
can I request PMdazai x civilian reader ? Where she wants to join the pm just to be with Dazai, but he categorically refuses claiming it’s too dangerous for someone as sweet as her, so .. to make her stop whining and beginning, he fcks her as much as it’s needed to make her forget, she eventually passes out and ends up falling asleep. Dazai’s satisfied but deep inside he has that melancholic feeling.
I like him being soft and gentle towards his lover, being all cute n stuff ….
Just posted!
Distraction
Just thinking about a Dazai x read where all you want is to join the mafia
Nsfw 18+
Based on this request~
2,909 words
CW: Smut, oral(f), sweet!Dazai, dirty talk, hope I’m not forgetting anything~
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
You’re curled up on the couch with Dazai. Your head rests against his chest, his long fingers idly trace patterns along your arm. Osamu Dazai, Port Mafia executive, genius, manipulator, and somehow, impossibly, your lover. You cherish all of your moments together, but you want more. You shift, tilting your face up to meet his warm brown eyes. You have been thinking about this for weeks. You don’t want to be on the outside anymore.
“Osamu,” You start softly. “I… I want to join the Port Mafia.” Dazai goes still. The smile on his lips doesn’t fade, but his eyes sharpen. You press on before he can speak. “I want to be with you properly. I could help, simple jobs. Like run messages, handle paperwork, anything. I just… I want to be part of your life. All of it.”
Dazai’s hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over your lower lip. “No, love.”
“But—”
“Shh.” Dazai leans in, kissing you slow and sweet, like he is trying to melt the idea right out of your head. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “You’re too sweet for that world. The Mafia would chew you up and spit you out.”
You whine, pushing up onto your elbows to hover over him. “Osamu, please. I’m not as fragile as you think. I can handle it if it means staying by your side. Don’t you want me there? With you every day?”
Dazai chuckles low, the sound warm and fond, but his arms wrap around your waist. “I want you safe. Beg all you like, my darling. Those pretty whines of yours are adorable, but my answer is still no. I refuse.”
You pout, wriggling in his hold, your voice turning pleading. “But Osamu—”
Before you can launch into another round of begging, his tactics shift. One moment he is all gentle restraint; the next, his hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs you down into a deeper kiss. It is hungry, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open for him with a gasp.
“Mmm, so insistent,” Dazai purrs against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. His free hand trails down your side, slipping under your shirt to caress bare skin with feather-light touches. “My stubborn little love. If words won’t convince you… maybe this will.”
Dazai rolls you beneath him on the couch in one smooth motion. Dazai’s lips move to your jaw, then your neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot he knows drives you crazy. His hand ventures lower, fingertips dancing along your waistband. He kisses down your collarbone, pushing your shirt aside with his nose, lips brushing the swell of your breast.
You arch into him with a soft moan, your hands fisting in his shirt. The way he is looking at you now, eyes half-lidded with desire. That playful yet possessive curl to his lips. “Osamu…” you breathe, half-protest, half-plea.
“Still whining?” Dazai grins, but it is wicked now. He pins your wrists gently above your head with one hand, the other slipping between your thighs, rubbing slow circles through your clothes. “Let me change your mind properly, then.”
Dazai’s fingers make quick work of your clothes, peeling them away. “That’s it, belladonna,” he murmurs, voice husky against your ear as he sheds his own shirt and presses his bare chest to yours. “No more arguing. Just feel me.” He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom. The mattress dips as he lays you down, his body hovering over yours. Dazai takes his time, kissing every inch of exposed skin, whispering praises between each one. “So beautiful… so soft… all mine.” His mouth closes around a nipple, tongue swirling until you whimper, back arching off the bed. One hand slides between your thighs, two long fingers sinking in with practiced ease, curling just right to stroke that spot inside you.
“Osamu—ah!” Dazai works you open, scissoring and thrusting slowly. He watches your face the entire time, eyes dark with adoration and lust.
“Look at you,” Dazai breathes, adding a third finger, thumb circling your clit in lazy spirals. “Falling apart so prettily for me.” He replaces his fingers with his cock soon after, sliding into you in one smooth thrust. The stretch is perfect—filling you completely, his hips flush against yours as he groans low in his throat. “Fuck… you feel like heaven.”
Deep, rolling thrusts that hit every sensitive spot, Dazai’s pelvis grinding against your clit with each movement. He keeps his face buried in your neck, murmuring sweet nothings. While one hand pins your hip, the other laces with yours above your head.
“My sweet girl.”
“Taking me so well.”
“I love you like this, all flushed and needy”
The pleasure builds in waves, higher and higher, until you are sobbing his name, legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Cum for me, belladonna,” Dazai commands softly, biting gently at your collarbone. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
The orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. White-hot pleasure exploding through every nerve. Your walls clench around him, vision blurring as you cry out, body shaking uncontrollably beneath him. Dazai follows right after with a choked moan of your name, spilling deep inside you, hips stuttering as he rides out both your highs.
You float in bliss for long minutes afterward, boneless and sated, Dazai’s weight a comforting blanket as he stays buried inside you. He peppers your face with lazy kisses, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “…I’m hungry,” You mumble eventually, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. The argument feels like a distant dream—silly, even. All you can think about is him, warm and safe and yours.
Dazai chuckles, the sound vibrating through your joined bodies. He nuzzles your neck, clearly pleased he has wiped your mind so thoroughly. “Dinner, hm? My clever girl, already thinking ahead.” He shifts slightly, pulling out before gathering you against his chest. “How about crab? That place by the harbor you like. I’ll order in so we don’t have to move.”
You laugh softly, “Crab sounds perfect. With extra butter sauce. And maybe some of that wine I like?”
“Anything for you.” Dazai kisses the top of your head, arms tightening possessively. “Stay just like this with me a little longer, love.” Just like that, the argument is long forgotten.
~~~
A week has passed in a haze of stolen kisses, late-night cuddles, and Dazai’s relentless spoiling. But your determination hasn’t faded. You march straight into the Port Mafia headquarters. The lower members give you wary glances but know better than to stop the boss’s lover. You push open the door to Dazai’s private office without knocking.
Dazai is lounging behind his desk, long legs propped up, flipping through a report with theatrical boredom. The second he sees you, his eyes light up with that familiar mix of affection and mischief. “Bella~” He drawls, sitting up with a bright smile. “To what do I owe this delightful surprise? Come to drag me away for an early lunch?”
You plant your feet, arms still crossed, chin lifted defiantly. “I want to join the Port Mafia, Osamu. No more dodging.”
Dazai’s smile softens into something gentler. He rises from his chair and circles the desk, stopping just in front of you. “My love… we’ve talked about this.”
“No, you talked. I listened. Then you distracted me.” You narrow your eyes, poking a finger into his chest. “Last week. You knew exactly what you were doing. Earth-shattering orgasm and all that sweet talk just to make me forget the whole argument.”
Dazai blinks innocently, tilting his head like a confused puppy. One hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking tenderly. “Distract you? Me? Darling, I would never.” His voice drips with mock sincerity. “I simply couldn’t resist my sweet, irresistible girlfriend. How could I deny myself when you were looking at me like that? All flushed and begging so prettily… for me.”
You scoff, but your cheeks flush despite yourself. “You’re denying it? Really?”
Dazai leans in closer, lips brushing your forehead in a feather-light kiss. His free arm slips around your waist, pulling you against him. “I made love to you because I adore you. You’re my peace, my light. Not another soldier.” His other hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet those warm, deceptive eyes. “So no, my belladonna. I won’t let you join. Not today. Not ever. You’re too precious to me.” You open your mouth to protest again, but he is already pressing soft, distracting kisses along your jaw.
Dazai is doing it again! Being all cute and gentle and impossible to stay angry at. But this time, you are determined not to let him win so easily. “No.” You cross your arms.
Dazai’s lips curve into that signature mischievous smile as he ignores your protest entirely. In one fluid motion, he lifts and sets you on the edge of his large oak desk, papers scattering beneath you. “How about that early lunch, my sweet girl,” he purrs, voice low and honeyed, eyes gleaming with hunger. “But I think we should start with dessert first.”
“Osamu, wait—I’m serious about—” Your words cut off in a gasp as Dazai drops smoothly to his knees in front of the desk, pushing your thighs apart. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, sliding your panties down in one swift tug and pocketing them.
“Shhh, love. No talking.” Dazai’s breath ghosts hot against your inner thigh, lips brushing teasingly closer. “Just let me enjoy my favorite treat.”
You try again, gripping the edge of the desk. “This isn’t fair—ah!”
Dazai’s mouth descends on you without warning. Dazai licks a long, slow stripe up your folds. Then seals his lips around your clit and sucks gently. Your hips jerk, a broken moan escapes before you can stop it. “W-we need to talk about—mmh—about what I said earlier—” You try to form the words, but he swirls his tongue in tight circles. Two fingers slide into you effortlessly, curling against that perfect spot. The wet sounds of his mouth fill the office, obscene and impossible to ignore.
Dazai hums in delight against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. “Mmm… so sweet,” he murmurs between languid licks, never once lifting his head. Every time you open your mouth to protest or argue, he doubles down. Sucking harder, fucking you deeper with his fingers, tongue flicking mercilessly until all that comes out are whimpers and gasps. Your hands fly to his hair, tugging desperately as the pleasure builds fast and overwhelming.
“Osamu—fuck—I’m trying to—oh god—” Your thighs tremble around his head. Dazai doesn’t relent, devouring you with single-minded devotion, those beautiful eyes flicking up to watch your face the entire time. The orgasm hits like a freight train. You cum hard on his tongue, crying out his name as your body clenches and shakes, waves of pleasure crashing through you until you are slumped back on the desk, panting and dazed.
Dazai rises gracefully, licking his lips with a satisfied grin. He gathers you into his arms, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he finally pulls back, he nuzzles your cheek, voice soft and affectionate. “You know… I am thinking we should try that new café by the river for actual lunch later. The one you mentioned last week. Sound good, belladonna?”
He brushes a strand of hair from your flushed face, looking utterly innocent.
~~~
A few days later, the two of you are tangled together on the couch. “Osamu, please,” you whine, straddling his lap and gripping his shirt. “Just let me join. I can handle it. I want to be with you all the time, not just like this. I’m begging you—”
Dazai’s hands settle on your hips, as he looks up at you with that soft, adoring gaze. A slow, wicked smile spreads across his lips. “Oh, belladonna…” He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I much prefer you begging for my cock instead of joining the Mafia.”
Your cheeks burn. “That’s not— I’m being serious—”
Dazai cuts you off with a deep, lingering kiss, hands sliding under your shirt to caress bare skin. When he pulls back, his voice is a low, teasing murmur. “Are you? Because right now you look so pretty on my lap, whining so sweetly for me.” One hand dips lower, palming you through your clothes, rubbing slow circles that make your breath hitch. “Go on, love. Beg for something better.”
You try to stay focused, rocking against his hand despite yourself. “Osamu, please—just listen to me about the—”
Dazai slips his fingers inside your panties, stroking your slick folds but deliberately avoiding your clit. “Mmm, not quite. Try again.”
“Fuck—Osamu,” You whimper, grinding down harder. He chuckles softly, pulling his hand away just enough to tease.
“Such a needy girl. ” Dazai’s lips trail along your neck, sucking lightly. Two fingers circling your entrance but never pushing in.
You break after a few more minutes of his relentless teasing, hips twitching desperately in his lap. “Please… Osamu, I need your cock. I want you inside me so badly.”
Dazai’s eyes darken with satisfaction. “There’s my good girl.” He rewards you immediately, freeing himself from his pants and sinking you down onto his cock in one smooth, deep thrust. “See? This is so much better than any other kind of begging.” He rocks up into you slowly, hands guiding your hips in a torturous rhythm. “My sweet, desperate girl,” he whispers lovingly, hands gentle on your hips as he guides you. He groans softly against your neck. “That’s it… take all of me. You feel incredible.” Dazai rocks up into you with slow, deep thrusts, setting a sensual rhythm that makes your toes curl.
Your first orgasm builds quickly from the teasing. Dazai angles his hips just right, grinding against your clit with every thrust, murmuring praises the whole time. “Cum for me, belladonna. Let me feel you.” You shatter around him with a cry, clenching tight as waves of pleasure crash through you. He holds you through it, kissing your forehead, never stopping his gentle rhythm.
“Good girl… so perfect for me,” Dazai coos, slowing just enough to let you catch your breath before picking up again. He shifts you slightly, hitting a new angle that makes stars explode behind your eyes. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, slick circles. “Again, love.”
You whimper, overwhelmed but needy, riding him as he thrusts up to meet you. The second orgasm hits harder. Dazai swallows every sound with kisses, his touch never rough, only reverent and loving. “There you go… my beautiful girl. You’re doing so well.
By the time Dazai coaxes the third one out of you, you are a boneless, whimpering mess in his arms. At one point he managed to carry you to the bed. He has you on your back now.. Buried deep inside, one of your legs hooked over his elbow as he thrusts with long, smooth strokes. “Cum again for me, darling,” he breathes, voice strained but so sweet. “One more. I love watching you fall apart.”
The third orgasm rips through you like lightning. It’s intense, and earth-shattering. You clench around him, crying out as pleasure blinds you. Only then does Dazai let himself go. His thrusts grow a little faster, deeper, but still controlled and gentle. He buries his face in your neck, moaning your name as he finally cums, pulsing hot and deep inside you.
He stays buried inside you afterward, collapsing, careful not to crush you. Soft kisses rain over your face and shoulders as he catches his breath. “I love you,” he whispers, voice hoarse and full of affection. “So much. My perfect girl.”
You are thoroughly spent, mind blissfully empty, body glowing with aftershocks. Dazai pulls the blanket over both of you, holding you close like you are the most precious thing in his world.
Your breathing evens out and your eyes flutter shut. “Sleep, my love,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. You pass out almost instantly, nestled safely against his chest.
Dazai stays awake, one arm wrapped protectively around you while the other traces lazy patterns along your spine. A satisfied little smile plays on his lips as he watches your peaceful face, relaxed, and utterly content. He has done exactly what he set out to do: loved you so thoroughly that all thoughts of the Port Mafia have melted away, at least for tonight.
But a familiar melancholic ache settles deep in his chest. It is always there, lurking beneath the warmth he reserves only for you. How long can I keep you like this?You are too good, too pure for his world of blood and betrayal. Every time you beg to join, a part of him twists painfully. The Mafia would dim your light. It would break you, just like it breaks everything it touches.
Dazai presses a feather-light kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the comforting scent of your hair. “I’m sorry, belladonna,” he murmurs so softly it barely disturbs the air. “I’ll keep distracting you… as many times as it takes.” He holds your sleeping form tighter, guarding the one beautiful thing in his life he refuses to let the darkness claim.
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
❀ Hope you enjoyed this one! Trying to get through all the requests~ ❣️
❀ As always room for improvement! Sorry about grammar and spelling😬
❀ Requests are open! 💡
❀ Comment, likes and reposts are much appreciated! 🫶
❀ Master list ✨
Hiii!!! Can I request a Chuuya x fem!reader where they meet after years? They used to be friends but after the shibusawa incident where his sheep friends were killed, he believes the reader died as well only to find her again working in a bar, struggling to earn a living. A little nsfw too please!!! ><
Sorry if this is too long 😅
Took me so long, sorry about that. But it's posted!
Long Time No See
Just thinking about a Chuuya x reader where Chuuya thought he lost you forever, but you've been right under his nose this whole time
Nsfw 18+
Based on this request ~
2850 words
CW: Smut but really more love making, oral(f), unprotected, hope I’m not forgetting anything~
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
The rooftop of the abandoned warehouse was one of the few places that you felt safe. One of the only people who feel safe, Chuuya. You sat with your back against a rusted vent, knees drawn up, while Chuuya paced nearby. “Those Port Mafia bastards think they own everything,” Chuuya muttered, kicking a loose pebble over the edge. “But we’ve got numbers. We stick together, we push back harder next time.”
You tilted your head, watching him with a small smile. “Whatever you say almighty king of the sheep.”
“I’m not their king.” Chuuya mumbled sitting next to you. “No body listens to me, including you. I saw you charging in with that knife today! I told you to stay behind. What if they’d—”
“I’m fine, Chuuya.” You bumped his shoulder deliberately. “We’re all fine because of you.” He huffed, but his ears went faintly pink. For a second, the weight of the world lifted. Up here, it was just the two of you and the endless Yokohama skyline.
Chuuya pulled a slightly squished roll from his coat pocket and split it in half without a word, handing you the bigger piece. Your fingers brushed as you took it. “Eat,” He ordered gruffly. “Can’t have you slowing us down tomorrow.”
You took a bite. “Always so bossy.”
“Only ‘cause you never listen.” Chuuya's smirk was soft. He leaned back, staring at the clouds rolling in. “One day we’ll get out of here. No more scraping by.”
You nodded, letting the comfortable silence settle. Neither of you said it aloud, but in the quiet moments like this, it was there: the small promise that whatever came next, you’d face it together. Little did you know how soon that promise would be tested.
~~~
The rain in Yokohama falls with a soft pitter patter rhythm. Chuuya Nakahara shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat, the brim of his hat low against the downpour. Port Mafia business had dragged him into a rundown area. He should go home, let the night be over. But something about the neon sign buzzing above the dingy bar calls to him. Who is he to pass up a drink?
Chuuya pushes the door open. A handful of patrons hunched over their glasses. Behind the wooden counter, a woman wipes down glasses with mechanical movements, her shoulders tense under the dim lighting. Chuuya froze mid-step.
You.
You look up to welcome the newcomer. The glass slips from your fingers and shatters on the floor. “Fuck!” You look down at the glass, then back to Chuuya. Who is also looking you over. You look… worn. Dark circles shadow your eyes. Your clothes were simple, and your hands trembled as you crouched to clean up the mess. The girl who’d patched up his scrapes, who’d shared stolen bread and whispered dreams of getting out of the slums, now served drinks to men who barely tipped. “Chuuya…?”
Chuuya crossed the room in three strides, ignoring the curious stares from the corners. Up close, the years hit him harder. You were alive. Alive. “I thought you were dead,” he said, voice rough. His gloved hand reaches out, hovering near your arm like he was afraid you’d vanish.
You stood slowly, brushing shards of glass from your apron. “Amlost, but I was always faster than you gave me credit for... By the time I made it out…” Your laugh was bitter, nothing like the bright sound he used to hear. “There was nothing left. I heard rumors you joined up with the Port Mafia. Figured you’d forget all about me with your new fancy life.”
Chuuya’s jaw tightened. “Forget you? You were family, damn it. We survived that hellhole together. And you let me think—”
A customer at the end of the bar banged his empty glass. “Sweetheart! Another round!”
Your shoulders stiffened. You glanced at the clock, shift nowhere near over. The exhaustion in your posture makes something ugly twist in Chuuya’s chest. This wasn’t you. You weren’t supposed to be scraping by in a dive like this, dodging wandering hands. “Time for her break,” Chuuya growled at the bartender. The look in Chuuya’s eye spoke volumes, the man nods quickly and waves you off.
You didn’t protest as Chuuya guided you to a shadowed booth in the back, his hand finally settling on the small of your back. It felt like coming home and arriving in a strange place all at once. He orders a bottle of the best red they had and pours you a glass first. “Talk,” he said simply, hat tipped back now so you could see his eyes. Blue and intense.
Your fingers trace the rim of the glass. “After the incident… I bounced around. Odd jobs. Tried to stay under the radar. Figured it was safer to disappear. I heard rumors you joined. Became an executive. Glad you made it, Chuuya. You always were too stubborn to die.”
Chuuya reaches across the table, covering your hand with his. “Yeah, well, I’m still here. And so are you.” Silence stretches, heavy with unsaid years. Chuuya studies you. The way you held yourself smaller now, the girl who refused to cry even when the slums tried to break her. She looks so small now. “I’ve got resources,” he said finally. “Money. A place that isn’t this shithole. You don’t have to keep grinding here.”
Your eyes meet his, a spark of the old fire returning. “And what? I just fall back into your world? Join the Mafia? After everything? I don’t need a handout, Chuuya.” You stand abruptly, chair scraping against the worn floor.
“Sit. You haven’t even touched your wine.”
“I’m on the clock. I can’t just sit for a drink.”
“Fine. I’ll wait.” And Chuuya waited there through your whole shift. He nurses a single glass of red at the back booth. You feel his eyes on you the entire time. Tracking every forced smile you give customers. Hours later, you wipe down the counter one final time, muscles aching, and clock out with a nod from the wary bartender. Chuuya stands as you approach, coat already slung over his arm. “We’re going to my place,” he says. It is not a question.
You hesitate at the door, the cool night air brushing your face as rain continues to patter outside. “Chuuya… I meant what I said. I’m not some stray dog for you to pitty. I’ve survived this long on my own.”
Chuuya steps closer, close enough that you catch the faint scent of wine and that expensive cologne he must wear now. His hand finds the small of your back again. Gentle but firm, guiding you out under the awning. “You think I see you as a stray?” His voice drops, rough with annoyance. “ You were mine to protect back then, even if I was too young and stupid to say it right. You’re mine to protect now.” His tone was final. You walk beside him in silence for a block, the city lights reflecting off wet pavement. It feels too familiar. Too safe.
Chuuya's apartment looms ahead after a short drive in a black car that definitely belongs to the organization. The elevator ride is quiet. When the door opens to his space, you pause on the threshold. Floor-to-ceiling windows, minimalist furniture that still screams money, a wine rack that could stock a small bar. It is nothing like the rooftops you once shared.
Chuuya shrugs off his coat and hangs it, then turns to you. “Guest room’s yours. You’re staying tonight. No arguments.” He heads to the kitchen, pulling out two fresh glasses and a better bottle than anything from the bar.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” You murmur, eyes tracing the clean lines of the penthouse again. “I see you can afford the good stuff now.” You look at the wine.
Chuuya gives a short, almost self-conscious huff. “Comes with the job. Come on.” He leads you down a short hallway and pushes open the door to a spacious bathroom. Marble tiles, rainfall showerhead. It is absurdly luxurious compared to the lukewarm trickle you are used to at your cramped apartment. “Take as long as you need,” he says, voice quieter now. He lingers in the doorway for a beat, then steps back and closes the door behind him.
You peel off your work clothes. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke clinging to them and step under the hot spray. The water is perfect, scalding at first, then soothing as it pounds against your sore shoulders and back. You stand there for a long time, letting it chase away the ache of the shift, the shock of seeing him again, the years of carrying everything alone. Tears mix with the water, but you don’t fight them.
When you finally shut off the tap, your skin is flushed. A folded stack waits neatly on the counter: one of Chuuya’s black button-down shirts and a pair of his boxers. The fabric is soft, you pull them on. The shirt swamps you, hem hitting mid-thigh. The boxers sit low on your hips. The faint scent of his cologne clings to the collar. Barefoot, hair still damp, you pad back out to the living room.
Chuuya sits on the couch, jacket off, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Two glasses of wine rest on the table in front of him. He looks up when you enter, and something flickers across his face. Surprise, heat, a flash of that old protectiveness. His gaze traces the way his shirt drapes over you before he quickly looks back at your face. “Better?” he asks, voice a little rougher than before. He pats the cushion beside him.
You cross the room and sink onto the couch, drawing your legs up under you. The warmth of the shower still clings to your skin, and for the first time in years the tension in your chest eases just a fraction. Chuuya hands you a glass, his gloved fingers brushing yours again. “Yeah,” you whisper. “A lot better.”
He leans back, arm stretching along the back of the couch. Not quite around you, but close enough that you feel the heat of him. “Good. Now drink.” You gladly take the drink and snuggle closer to Chuuya than you mean to. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his arm drops from the back of the couch to over your shoulder.
For a while, the two of you simply sit like that. Chuuya speaks first, voice low. “The Port Mafia… it’s not what I expected when I first joined. It gave me purpose after the Sheep fell apart.” He takes a sip, jaw tightening. “And then there’s that damn mackerel—Dazai. Partnered with him for too long. Bastard’s always scheming, always one step ahead, driving me insane with his suicide crap I swear he lives to piss me off.”
You let out a soft laugh, the sound loosening something tight in your chest.
Chuuya smirks, but it fades as he looks at you. “Your turn. What the hell have you been dealing with?”
You swirl the wine in your glass, the words spilling out easier than you expect. “The job at the bar is shit. Long hours, shitty tips, handsy customers. My apartment is a tiny studio with mold in the corners. I had a boyfriend, now my ex…” You shrug, voice quieter. “He was just another dead end. Nothing like what we had back then.” Chuuya’s arm tightens around you. You take another sip for courage, then murmur, “I had a crush on you, you know. Back in the day.”
Chuuya goes still beside you. Then Chuuya sets his glass down, turns toward you, and leans in. His hand cups your jaw with surprising gentleness, thumb brushing your cheek. His eyes search yours for only a heartbeat before he closes the distance. The kiss is slow at first, almost careful. His lips are warm, tasting of wine, and the familiar scent of him wraps around you. You kiss him back, one hand fisting lightly in his vest, pulling him closer.
When Chuuya pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath mingling, his voice is rough. “Idiot. I felt the same. Always did.”
You smile against his lips. “You’re an idiot too for never saying anything.”
The words barely leave your mouth before you swing a leg over and climb into his lap, straddling him. Chuuya’s hands settle on your hips instantly. The kiss deepens, hungrier now, years of longing and regret pouring out. Your fingers thread through his hair, knocking his hat aside. He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his tongue traces yours.
You make out like that for what feels like forever. His hands roam up your back under the shirt, mapping warm skin, while your hips roll against him instinctively. The wine is forgotten. The city outside disappears. Chuuya breaks the kiss with a sharp breath, eyes dark. Without a word, he stands, hands supporting your thighs as he lifts you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist, lips finding his neck as he carries you down the hall to his bedroom.
Chuuya sets you down gently on the edge, then steps back just long enough to shrug off his clothes. His gaze never leaves you as he returns, fingers working open the buttons of the shirt you wear. It slides off your shoulders and pools on the floor. Next come his boxers down your legs. Cool air hits your skin, but his warmth chases it away as he climbs over you, caging you in with his body.
Chuuya hovers there, forearms braced on either side of your head, red hair falling messily into his eyes. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmurs, voice husky, lips brushing your jaw. “But I’ve waited too damn long for this.”
Chuuya’s mouth finds yours again, slower this time, savoring, while one hand trails down your side, possessive and reverent all at once. Chuuya’s kisses trail lower. Along your jaw, down your neck, leaving faint marks that make you shiver. He cups one of your breasts, kneading it with just the right pressure, thumb brushing over your nipple until it pebbles under his touch. A low groan escapes him as he leans down, lips closing around the sensitive peak. He sucks gently at first, then harder, tongue swirling while his other hand mirrors the attention on your other breast. The dual sensation pulls soft moans from your throat; you arch into his mouth, fingers tightening in his hair. “Fuck Chuuya! Give me more.”
But Chuuya refuses to rush. He plays with you like he has all the time in the world, switching between slow licks and sharp little sucks that send heat straight between your legs. Eventually his hand slides lower, fingers parting your thighs. He strokes your clit in slow, deliberate circles. Two fingers dip lower, teasing your entrance before sliding inside you, curling just right while his thumb keeps working your clit. Your breath comes in gasps, pleasure building fast and sharp.
Then Chuuya shifts down the bed, settling between your legs. He replaces his fingers with his mouth. The first long lick draws a broken sound from you. Chuuya eats you out like a man starved, tongue flicking and circling your clit before plunging inside you, groaning at your taste. He holds your hips down with strong hands, keeping you open for him as he devours you. The coil tightens, tighter, your thighs starting to tremble—
He stops.
You whine in protest, the edge cruelly ripped away. “Chuuya, you bastard—” you start to yell, pushing up on your elbows.
But Chuuya is already moving, crawling back over you, cock hard and leaking as he lines up. In one smooth thrust he pushes inside you, stretching you open. The sudden fullness knocks the breath from your lungs. “Fuck,” he hisses against your neck, hips snapping forward again, setting a deep, punishing rhythm. “Couldn’t wait any longer… needed to feel you.”
Chuuya fucks you hard, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip. Like a true gentleman, he talked you through it.
“So fucking good for me.”
“Worth the wait.”
“You’re so damn beautiful."
“Mine.”
Every thrust hits deep, the wet sound of skin on skin filling the room along with your moans and Chuuya’s rough curses. The earlier teasing has you wound so tight that it does not take long. Pleasure builds again, faster this time, crashing over you without warning. You clench around him, crying out his name as you cum.
Chuuya follows right after, burying himself deep with a guttural groan, hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He collapses over you, careful not to crush you, face tucked into the crook of your neck as you both catch your breath. “I changed my mind. No guest room, you're sleeping next to me for the rest of our lives. And you're quitting your job.”
You giggle; that's a promise you're happy to keep.
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
❀ It took me some time to get this request done so I apologies. I've also been MIA for a while. Life is a lot and we're all just doing the best we can~ ❣️
❀ As always room for improvement! Sorry about grammar and spelling😬
❀ Requests are open! 💡
❀ Comment, likes and reposts are much appreciated! 🫶
❀ Master list ✨
Free Use
Just thinking about a Dazai x reader where you tell him you want to be taken advantage of and boy does he deliver
Nsfw 18+
1,912 words
CW: Smut, CNC, free use, petnames- bella, sweetheart, slut (like once)- rough sex, orgasm denial, cream pie, hope I’m not forgetting anything~
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
The whiskey flows through your veins as you kiss your boyfriend. He’s tipsy and you’re drunk enough to spill all of your secrets. “Come on, bella~ You can tell me,” Dazai coaxes, his voice low against your ear.
You’d asked him if you could tell him your most secret fantasy. When he’d said yes with that dangerous little smile, panic had hit you like a wave. So you’d crashed your mouth against his instead, desperate to distract him. “Mmm, no,” You mumble, nuzzling your burning face into the crook of Dazai’s shoulder. “I don’t want to anymore. Let’s just fuck.”
Dazai groans softly, a sound that vibrates through his chest. His fingers tangle in your hair and tug. He pulls your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Not until you tell me.”
“You’re so mean,” You whine, rolling your hips down against the growing hardness beneath you. The friction makes you both hiss.
“You like when I’m mean,” Dazai murmurs, lips brushing yours but not quite kissing. A deliberate tease.
“Fine. I—I want you to take advantage of me.”
Dazai’s eyes darken instantly, the playful glint sharpening into something hungry and possessive. His grip in your hair tightens just a fraction. “Be more specific, sweetheart.”
Your heart hammers. “I want… like free use or something.” You bite your lip, cheeks scorching. “Yosano sent me this thing about consensual non-consent and I can’t get it out of my head.”
Dazai’s smile blooms, slow and wicked, the kind that always makes your stomach flip. “Oh? My sweet little belladonna wants me to use her whenever I feel like it… even if she pretends to fight?” His free hand slides down your back, possessively gripping your ass and grinding you harder against him. “Wants me to pin her down, ignore her pretty little ‘no’s,’ and take what’s mine?”
You whimper, nodding before you can stop yourself. The alcohol makes everything feel hazy and too honest. “Yeah… I want it to feel real. But safe. With you.”
Dazai’s breath ghosts over your throat as he leans in, teeth grazing your pulse point. “Red means you want me to stop. But otherwise…” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “You’re mine to ruin anytime I want. On the couch while you’re trying to read. In the shower. Even when you’re squirming and telling me ‘not now, Osamu’—I’ll just spread those pretty thighs and remind you who you belong to.”
Your core clenches at the image, heat flooding through you. “Can we just fuck now?” Oh and you did, rough and long on the couch.
The next morning while you were hung over you remember your confession and wait for Dazai to bring it up. A week passes and he never did, making you wonder if he was drunk enough to forget. Oh well, it’s probably better this way. Except Dazai hasn’t forgotten, he just wants you completely unsuspecting.
~~~
You’re in the kitchen, humming quietly while rinsing a mug. The apartment is quiet, Dazai had said he was going out for a bit. You’re wearing one of his oversized shirts, panties and nothing else, still a little sleepy from your nap. The warm water runs over your hands as you daydream about dinner plans. You don’t hear him come in. Strong arms suddenly wrap around you from behind. One hand clamps firmly over your mouth, the other sliding up under the hem of the shirt to palm your bare breast. You jolt hard, a muffled yelp escaping against his palm.
“Shhh,” Dazai breathes against your ear, voice low and dark with amusement. His body presses you forward against the counter, trapping you there. “Did you really think I forgot, bella?”
Your heart slams against your ribs. Heat floods your face, and lower, as you realize what’s happening. This is it. He’s doing it. Right now. When you least expected it. You squirm instinctively, pushing back against him, but his grip only tightens. His fingers pinch your nipple, rolling it until you whimper.
“I’ve been thinking about this every day,” Dazai murmurs, lips brushing the hell of your ear. His hand leaves your breast and trails downward, dipping between your thighs, under the silk barrier without hesitation. He finds you already growing wet and chuckles softly. “Already? Naughty girl. Were you secretly hoping I didn't forget so I could surprise you like this?”
You shake your head—no, wait—nod? You don’t even know anymore. Your thighs press together around his hand, but he just forces them apart with his knee, two fingers sliding into you without warning. Making your knees grow weak.
“Mm. Fight me if you want,” Dazai curles his fingers just right. “It makes it that much better. But we both know how this ends.” His hand is still over your mouth, muffling your moans as he grinds his hardening cock against your ass. The kitchen counter is cool against your stomach, the running water still splashing uselessly in the sink.
You want to fight. You want it rough. You want to be manhandled. So you do. You jab your elbow back, not hard enough to actually hurt, but enough to make your point. Dazai laughs, low and thrilled. You twist and bite the hand over your mouth. He pulls it away with a hiss of pleasure/pain. “Knock it off, Osamu! Can’t you see I’m busy?” You snap, voice breathy and defiant even as your hips rock back against his fingers.
Dazai’s smile turns feral. In one fluid motion he yanks his fingers out, spins you around, and hauls you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. A sharp slap lands on your ass, the sound cracking through the kitchen. You yelp, kicking your legs half-heartedly as he carries you down the hall toward the bedroom. “Oh, you’re busy?” Dazai mocks, voice dripping with amusement. Another smack echoes, harder this time, the sting blooming hot across your skin. “Too bad, bella. Your only job now is to take what I give you.”
Dazai kicks the bedroom door open and tosses you onto the bed. You barely have time to scramble backward before he’s crawling over you, caging you in with his body. His hand wraps around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding you in place. While the other shoves the oversized shirt up to your chest, exposing you.
“Look at you,” Dazai drinks in the sight of your flushed skin and parted thighs. “Pretending you don’t want it when you’re dripping for me.” He wedges a knee between your legs, spreading you open. “Keep fighting, sweetheart. I love breaking you.”
You push at his chest and twist beneath him, heart racing with thrill as he easily pins your wrists above your head with one hand. His free hand works open his belt and pants, freeing his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours with that dangerous, half-lidded stare.
“Let go of me right now!” You thrash, bucking your hips in a way that only grinds you against his hard length.
Dazai’s grin widens, wicked and knowing. “Are you saying red?”
“No,” You say quickly, the word needy.
“Good girl.” In one smooth motion Dazai yanks your soaked panties down your legs and off completely. Before you can protest again, he shoves the damp fabric into your mouth, muffling your sounds. “Then shut up and taste how much you want this.”
The taste of your own arousal floods your tongue. It’s filthy, intimate, humiliating in the best way. Your muffled whine only makes him harder. Dazai leans back, lines himself up, and drives into you with one deep, merciless thrust. The sudden fullness rips a moan from around the makeshift gag. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. His hips snap forward hard and fast, fucking you into the mattress with the kind of ruthless rhythm that makes the bed creak. Every thrust pushes you up the sheets, your wrists still locked above your head by his iron grip.
“Fuck, you feel perfect,” Dazai groans, voice rough with pleasure. He leans down, teeth scraping along your jaw as he pounds into you. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be used like a toy whenever I decide I need you.”
You shake your head frantically, but your body betrays you, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his back to pull him deeper. Dazai laughs darkly at the contradiction, shifting his angle so he hits that spot inside you with every brutal stroke. Your muffled cries grow louder, soaked panties doing little to quiet the wet sounds of him fucking you. Tears of overwhelming pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes. He notices immediately, leaning in to lick one away.
“Look at you crying already,” Dazai coos, voice dripping with mock sympathy even as his pace turns punishing. “Poor thing. Taking my cock so well anyway.” He releases your wrists only to grab your hips with both hands, so he can drive even deeper. The new angle makes your eyes roll back. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in. Not pushing him away, but holding on as he ruins you exactly like he promised. Dazai’s breath grows ragged, his control fraying. “Gonna fill you up, bella. And you’re going to keep my cum inside you for the rest of the day like a good little free-use slut.”
You nod frantically. Dazai’s thrusts turn erratic and deep, hips slamming against yours until he buries himself to the hilt with a low, broken groan. You feel the hot pulse of him spilling inside you, thick and warm, claiming you exactly like he promised. He stays there for a moment, panting against your neck, then slowly pulls out. Before any of his cum can leak out, two long fingers push back into your dripping cunt, fucking his release deeper with lazy, possessive strokes.
“Do you want to cum?” Dazai asks, voice sweet and cruel. You nod desperately, hips twitching toward his hand. “What? I can’t hear you.” His fingers curl lazily, teasing that perfect spot but never giving you enough. You try to speak around the panties, the words coming out as an unintelligible, pathetic moan. Frustrated, you reach up to pull the fabric from your mouth. “Ah ah ah—” Dazai slaps your cunt sharply, the wet smack echoing through the room. The sudden sting makes you jolt and whimper. “I didn’t say you could touch that.”
Your eyes water as fresh heat blooms between your legs. Dazai keeps his fingers buried inside you, slowly pumping while his thumb circles your swollen clit. Light, torturous, never letting you tip over the edge.
“Greedy girl,” Dazai murmurs, watching your face with dark fascination. “You wanted free use, remember? That means I use you however I want… and I decide when, or if, you get to cum.” He leans down, nipping at your jaw while his fingers continue their cruel rhythm. “Maybe I’ll keep you like this all day. Plugged full of my cum, desperate and dripping, waiting for me to decide you’ve earned it.”
You whine loudly around the gag, thighs trembling, trying to grind against his hand for more friction. Dazai just chuckles and pulls his fingers out completely, leaving you empty and aching. He pats your slick, sensitive pussy almost affectionately. “Stay right there. Don’t touch. If you’re good and keep my cum inside you like a good toy, maybe I’ll let you cum tonight.”
What have you gotten yourself into?
➽──────❥ ❀⊱༺♡༻⊰❀ ➽──────❥
❀ No request this time, just a girl who's ovulating~ ❣️
❀ As always room for improvement! Sorry about grammar and spelling😬
❀ Requests are open! 💡
❀ Comment, likes and reposts are much appreciated! 🫶
❀ Master list ✨
Question
Hey guys! I really want to do kinktober this year, so I've been researching (reading lots of smut)! This one account @nolongerpostingsorry did something really cool! They just picked prompts for all the days and let the people pick who for what days, would that be something y'all are interested in?
Edit: Also, what kinks would you like to see? Feel free to comment!
Hey! So i just got done reading your rules and i was just wondering if you would ever write for ranpo or is that a no go??👀👀
Not at the moment, but I would be open to it in the future! I feel like his character would be a little hard to write for and I don't want to mischaracterize him.
Um, hi! I’ve been reading your writing for a long time and I really enjoy it, but I was a bit hesitant to send a request. I think this is my first request on Tumblr. Could you please write some headcanons for Chuuya Nakahara x a FEM reader who is a bit introverted and shy, but sometimes funny, and—this might sound silly—plays the guitar? Also, if it's appropriate, you can add some NSFW elements too. Thank you so much in advance, and I want you to know that you're amazing!
Sorry it took me so long, but just posted it! And thank you for the kind words!!