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bsdawgz · 2 months
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「 ✦ Closer ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Osamu Dazai
a/n: inspired by the morning voice post by @lovedazai (THIS), nin, and curiosity about how dazai would f#@% in the morning
genre: nasty and a sprinkle of fluff. (early) established relationship.
content warning: f!reader. MDNI! nasty ahead! some edging, begging, and praise. body worship + oral sex (m! and f! receiving for both. everyone wins!). religious imagery. you've been warned.
summary: in the morning, dazai likes to spoil you in bed ♡
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just as you're about to get out of bed, you're stopped by soft lips against the nape of your neck, gently traveling across your skin as slender fingers grasp at your hips, coaxing you back into the futon and into a warm embrace. a quiet yawn into your shoulder is followed by a series of loving kisses up and down your spine – dazai's morning ritual as he tries to persuade you to stay in bed just a little longer, linger in his arms for just a minute or two more. in the mornings, he's always so resistant to getting up, so clingy and attached and so determined to not go into work. why waste his time laboring away at the ada when he can waste his life away in the arms of a beautiful woman instead?
"good morning, pretty girl." his voice is deeper, richer, in the morning, slightly raspy from a good sleep brought from being tangled in one another's bodies the night before. it's alluring, sexy, even, the way that he whispers in your ear and pulls you closer tight against his chest, as though he can't get enough as you, tracing circles into your naked back with his fingertips, etching his initials into your skin as if to remind you that your his and his alone, his lips lingering on your earlobe, his breath tickling your neck –
– and he pulls you closer, closer,
and closer.
it's never quite enough for him.
molding into your body and seeking your warmth, "won't you pay attention to me~?" he coos, fingers playing with the waistband of your panties teasingly. you feel him adjust your hips slightly, and at this angle you can feel him now – all of him. the heat that emanates from his skin, the firmness of his chest pressed against yours, and most of all, the hardness in his boxers as he pushes up against you – you can sense him just smirking once he knows that you can feel him there.
"i hope you know how much i like you," he whispers, and his voice is so tempting, almost as tempting as the way that his hands smooth over your stomach and the way that they grasp your waist. those hands fit so perfectly around your body, around your breasts, around your hips. you feel him squeeze you, sighing into your skin, and you melt into his touch. ever since dazai started dating you, it's been impossible for him to keep his hands off of you – touching you felt ritualistic, like going to church. it was like a necessary reminder that you're real, that you exist, that you're alive.
being able to bask in your light, to soak in your vitality –
it felt like breathing – like living, even.
as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder, tangling his fingers in your hair, you can feel his warm breath against your neck. "mm, your body feels so soft," he murmurs affectionately, continuing to pamper you with soft, gentle kisses. these innocent touches might satisfy him for now, but it's never long until he's impassioned to get on top of you – and that's exactly what he does, shifting his weight until you're underneath him, ensnared in his bandaged arms.
"do you want me?" he asks you teasingly, swiping his tongue across his lips. there's this wicked grin on his face as he bats his long, thick lashes at you knowingly – there are no secrets you can keep from dazai. "you always feel so soft, especially here," he whispers sweetly in your ear, lips lingering on your earlobe as he nudges your legs apart with his knee. you can feel warmth spread wildly across your skin as you grow wet from just his subtle touch. he brings his fingers between your legs only to trail them along the side of your thighs until you're writhing underneath him, then those same slender fingers are brushing 'accidentally' against the place you want him most. it's fleeting – a moment gone too soon, yet you find your hips impulsively moving, desperately trying to chase after him.
"you know, that was pretty perverted of you..." he says tauntingly, eyes glinting with amusement. you flush with embarrassment, but it's not long until you feel his fingers press against your entrance for real, this time tracing your folds through the cotton of your panties, deliberately dampening the fabric with your arousal. "so dirty, huh." he's eyeing you like a wolf as he lowers himself onto your body, soft brown bangs falling into his darkened eyes as he grins at you smugly.
kissing down your body, along your collarbone and the curve of your shoulders, his large hands grasp your breasts, massaging them and lavishing them with gentle kisses. you gasp as his tongue encircles around a nipple, as he sucks hickies into your chest, as he molds his hands around your shape. then, continuing down your body, he stops below your navel, glancing up at you – "you want me here?"
you nod, then you feel his hands on you once more, slowly peeling your panties down your legs.
dazai holds you're sacred, like you're the source of life itself, laying his head down in front of you as though there's some altar hidden between your thighs. for a moment, all you can feel is his warm breath against your skin – nothing more.
then, everything at once –
– that heavenly feeling of his tongue, licking you so agonizingly slowly, so sweetly, so sinfully. you feel him ease a finger inside of you, then two, his delicate, beautiful fingers reaching somewhere you could never. then, pulling you flush against his mouth, he laps at you thirstily, tongue swirling around your clit until you're moaning out his name, until you're melting on his saliva. "dazai–" you hardly manage to stammer out, panting helplessly. "i want you... please... i want you in my mouth, too..."
you get on your knees as though to worship him. shuffling his boxers down his legs, you're desperate to just to touch him now – to finally taste him on your tongue. you feel its warmth against your skin as you press his length against your face, smear the precum that's pearling from the tip against your cheek, licking up the shaft seductively as you gaze up at him with doe eyes that are intent on having him watch you... but of course, he's going to watch you – focusing on your every movement with these half-lidded eyes that are clouded over with sheer desire and wanton lust. his hands tangle in your hair as he bites back a soft moan, enamored by the way you're rubbing his dick all over your sweet, innocent face. you can just feel him throbbing in your hands. how he aches for more, for you to put him in your mouth and devour him completely.
you stroke him gently, placing loving kisses on that pretty tip of his before sloppily wrapping your lips around him. saliva drips from your mouth, dribbles down your chin as you try to deepthroat him, and you gag as you feel the head hit the back of your throat. "that's it," he sighs pleasurably, throwing his head back. "god, you're good to me."
determined to finish him, you pick up the pace before you can choke on him – but he pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly with a soft laugh, resigning to stroking himself lazily with one hand. "fuck," you hear him curse under his breath, exasperated. "i'm already close.” he grins up at you playfully, then reaches across the bedside table for a condom, rolling it down his length before mindlessly tossing the plastic wrapper aside. then, grabbing you by the wrists, he tugs you into his lap to straddle him. "–not until i have you first."
there's a renewed wickedness in this eyes now, like he's up to no good. you watch him in anticipation as he starts guiding the blunt head inside of you... only to slide it back out of your slick folds, slipping the tip in and out of you teasingly, listening to the deliciously wet sound of your squeezing around nothing at all. "don't.. tease...!" you plead, but it's no use. your thighs give out as you feel him slap it lightly against your slick, hips spasming at the sudden impact, however slight. then, he laughs a sort of devious laugh, delighting in the needy way you squirm for him.
"tell me how badly you want it first," he insists, his voice a low, erotic whisper in your ear, his tongue tracing a line along the lobe. you can feel just the tip prodding at your entrance once more. as you try to roll your hips forward to meet his, his firm hands keep you in place. you whine out his name – not good enough, it seems.
so, you cry out, beg pathetically – beg for more and more. dazai watches you intently, wonder gleaming in those deep brown eyes of his as you struggle to feel him, to touch him, your body coming alive for him –
as you urge him to pull you closer, closer,
and closer.
it's never quite enough for you.
then, when he just can't help himself anymore, he sinks you onto him and fills you completely, pressing his body against yours until you're tangled so perfectly in his arms.
being close to you like this – it's started to feel a bit more like breathing to him,
– like living, even.
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que!
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bsdawgz · 3 months
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「 ✦ Waiting for You ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Nakahara Chūya
a/n: hiiii everyone!! first, i wanna say thank u all sm for all ur support! this fic is a follow up to a thought that crossed my mind one day after work lol. i didn't expect that one post to have as many likes/reblogs as it ended up having, so here's a continuation of that little scenario for my fellow chūya stans. i hope i did ok!
genre: f!reader who's a lil bit bratty; nasty with a sprinkle of fluff cuz it's established relationship!
content warning: MDNI! cunnilingus (he is pussydrunk omg😭), fingering, unprotected sex + he cums inside (she is on birth control), lots and lots of praise and pet names (babe, baby, doll), he says "fuck" like 1 billion times in this (this is canon tho and you can't change my mind about it BAHAHA) and uhhh and he gets a bit rough and overstimulates you (and himself) at the end as well hehe!
summary: after a tough day at work, there's nothing you want more than to be dicked down by your boyfriend, chūya ♡
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from just outside your bedroom, you hear a ‘click’ of metal as the front door closes. the sound is followed by a familiar voice grumbling incoherent complaints and a quiet shuffling of shoes. it could only mean one thing: chūya is back from work.
hurriedly throwing on your house slippers, you rush out your room to greet him in the foyer of his apartment, singing his name excitedly for no reason other than the mere joy of seeing your boyfriend after a day spent apart. he chuckles at your liveliness, catching you as you throw your arms around him. you’re always a breath of fresh air after the grueling day-to-day work that is being a port mafia executive. his body, tense from being on-guard all day, relaxes into your touch slowly as he lets his defenses fall for you. pressing his lips to your hair, chūya relishes in the scent of your mint shampoo as you nuzzle into his chest.
“'missed you, doll.”
you had been waiting on your boyfriend for a little over two hours since your shift ended, but the short span of time felt like forever… and you knew exactly why.
you had spent one hour just laying in his king-sized bed. that one hour, you spent thinking, staring up at the ornate ceiling, tracing the details of each unique tile in your mind.
the next hour, you spent laying in that same bed, staring up at nothing, tracing the details of chūya in your mind –
that auburn hair that falls into his eyes, those curls that descend down the base of his neck,
the expensive cologne that lingers on his shoulder, that telling smile on his lips that speaks only your name;
those slender fingers that grasp your neck ever so slightly while your nails rake down his naked back...
the mattress creaking under your bodies as he fucks you –
the thought made you ache.
“ugh, work was such shit today. you’ll never believe who decided to stop by again.” chūya scoffs, snapping you out of your little fantasy. his hand brushes past your waist as he snakes past you to hang his hat up by the door. you feel your body become uncomfortably warm at his innocent touch. you're embarrassed at how flustered you get, your cheeks reddening as another dirty thought enters your mind. oh god… chūya can be so oblivious sometimes. honestly, wasn’t it obvious from the way you jumped at him that you want him to make a move right now? for a man who could be so aggressive with others, he could be awfully passive with you.
“that mackerel dazai is always trying to screw me over… i’ll show him.” he grits his teeth, balling his hand into a fist as he mumbles about work again.
on most days, you would listen to chūya completely. you’d let him talk your ear off, in fact. chūya knew you were his #1 supporter –
but today was different. today has been an exceptionally stressful day at work for you, too.
it started with a power outage at your apartment, which led you to miss not one but two trains at work and consequently, being bitched at by your boss in front of the company president for tardiness… as if being shortchanged on a daily basis wasn’t enough to have you always in a foul mood. in other words, you weren’t feeling up to exchanging pleasantries with chūya today.
now, “sorry, chū~” is all you could muster as you loop your finger on chūya’s waistband, pulling him closer to you by the hips. “work’s not over yet… i need you in the bedroom, now.”
for a moment, your boyfriend just stares at you in disbelief, blinking. that mouth of yours never fails to disappoint – you can be so unassuming at times. a faint blush appears on his face as he looks away in embarrassment, surprised at your directness. there’s that cute face of his, you think to yourself. then, a flash of confidence spreads across his face and his lips curve into a knowing smirk. "i didn't realize my girl would be so needy today," he whispers in your ear in a low voice, suddenly unconcerned about work. guiding your hands, he moves them lower until you're groping him through his pants. "come, i'll give you exactly what you want."
in the bedroom, he’s gentle, loving. trailing his lips down your neck, he pampers you with soft, kitten kisses, undressing you carefully as he pulls the tank top you’ve changed into over your head and slips you out of the fuzzy shorts you’ve left at his apartment for sleepovers. what you really want for him to do right now, though, is to bend you over and manhandle you – but your boyfriend has a habit of treating you like you’re fragile, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s holding back.
unbuttoning his vest and shirt, you discard his clothes in a pile on the floor as he closes in on you, laying you down gently on the edge of the bed and smoothing his hands down your stomach. fingers play with the waistband of your cotton panties as his lips trail down your navel. "you waited so patiently for me... i oughtta reward you for being so good..." he teases.
you whine, feeling arousal collecting between your thighs as his hands inch lower but never touch you where you want him most. you throw your head back in a tantrum, grabbing at his hair. "c'mon chuuuu, just get on with it already," you complain at him. "don't bullshit anymore, please?"
yup, you’re his girl, alright –
“oy–!" he snaps at you scoldingly, rolling his eyes. "honestly, you’re so impatient–”
then, just as you’re about to protest again, you feel that sweet, overwhelming wetness – the heat of his mouth enfolding you as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. he moans into you and you forget all your qualms as he grabs you, holding you still as you spasm. “c-chūya… oh, god…” his name spills out of your lips and you gasp in pleasure, your hands getting tangled in his hair as he delves his tongue between your folds. his movements are skillful; he teases you with long licks and flicks of his tongue, exploring your taste as his slender fingers gather the arousal inside of you and rub circles at your clit.
“fuck, babe… you’re so fucking wet right now… this all for me?”
“all for you, chū~” you moan shamelessly in response, stealing a peek at him in between shaky breaths. there’s this wicked grin that's snuck its way onto his lips, a hunger in his eyes as he laps up your wetness, soaking in the stunning sight of your writhing under him. diving back in between your thighs, you hear him groan lowly against your bare skin:
“tastes so fucking sweet, babe… better cum for me…”
and you need so much more of it.
burying your hands in his hair, you force his face deeper into you, as if he can burrow himself into your body. you plead for more, desperately grinding yourself against his tongue, crying out his name as he holds you in firmly against his eager mouth. “chūya, please… please, chūya…”
then, just like he promised he would, chūya gives you exactly what you want —
he eats you like he’s starved, unrelenting, until heat sears through your entire body and your mind mind goes completely blank. your orgasm comes in waves. you convulse beneath him, his name spurting from out from your lips, your insides clenching the fingers that are still buried inside you.
“fuck, you’re hot.” — you hear him groan under his breath.
the sight of you so desperate and needy for him, gagging for him to fuck you dumb, has flipped a switch in him. he’s far from finished with you. “you’re still on the pill, right?” he asks, out of breath, and you nod.
stripping, chūya frees himself from his boxers. you lick your lips at him seductively, looking up at him with these lustful eyes that are waiting to return the favor. he's hard from watching you come undone and leaking with his own pre-cum. for a moment, he considers having you suck him first – but the desire to be buried deep in your heat is just so overwhelming. he needs to be inside of you right now.
“i’m just gonna put it in this time, fuck it,” he swallows, grabbing your hips and positioning you in front of him. “be a good girl for me, alright, doll?”
“always am, chū~” you quip, reaching for him as you blink your eyes at him innocently, this playful grin on your face. all he can do in response is smirk at you and shake his head at your persistent teasing, all too aware of the the fact that you have him wrapped around your finger. as you guide him inside you, you hear him inhale sharply, then you look up to see the long column of his neck as he sighs and throws his head back, sinking himself inside of you.
"damn, you feel good... if i knew you'd be treating me tonight... 'woulda come home sooner..." his fingers caress your cheek, his thumb circling around your lips as he glances back down to see how your body meets his. your slickness is sucking him right in – you're so warm and so, so very wet that it's taking no time for you to adjust to him tonight. as he pushes your thighs apart until you're on full display for him, his eyes wander down your body intently. his gaze is hot and full of nothing but pure admiration as he takes in the view of you desperately waiting to be fucked. "can't believe you're all mine too," he mumbles adoringly, stroking your hair with his hand, the strands slipping through his fingers as he grinds his hips slowly against yours. then, he starts moving, thrusting into you steadily until you're crying out his name again, begging for more.
“feels… s’good chū~ please… harder… chū, please… go harder…”
picking up the pace, he throws your legs over his shoulders and snaps his hips into yours faster, faster, faster. your mind is flooded with nothing but thoughts of chūya – being filled by him completely, his name overflowing from your lips, and the sound of your skin against his drowning out your moans. you feel his fingers squeeze the sides of your neck, then his hand wraps around a cluster of your hair and he pulls your head back, forcing you to look into his eyes once more as you gasp for breath.
"fuck, baby, you're so pretty right now. do you even have any idea how sexy you are?" he's panting wildly, this insatiable look glistening in his gray irises as he fucks you brainless. that damn look of pure bliss on your face, those filthy moans of yours, and your bouncing breasts are all driving him insane. "god, kiss me–" he growls, crashing his lips into yours. teeth collide with teeth as your noses bump together; you feel his saliva mix with yours and your tongues intertwine. "turn around for me, babe. lemme get behind you."
you nod, and he tosses you on your knees recklessly, then pulls you back against him fast and hard. you feel a firm slap to your ass and you yelp out his name. "fuck, babe, i'm not gonna last much longer. i'm gonna cum inside–"
“faster chū… faster… cum inside me... i want you to…”
"oh shit... fuck, baby–" he twitches inside of you, grabbing your breasts roughly as he empties hot spurts of cum inside you. you think he's finished with you – but then he buries his fingers into your hips again and starts fucking into you harder, nearly collapsing as he slams into you. you tangle your hands into his hair from behind, sobbing out his name as you shove your hips back against his, helping him ride out the last moments of his high.
“oh my god, chū… feels fucking good…”
finally, you feel him pull out, leaving your core throbbing and your legs trembling as his hot seed leaks down your thighs.
"jesus, i made a mess." there's some irritation in his voice as he catches his breath, raking a hand through the beads of sweat in his hair. "i guess new sheets are coming out of my next paycheck," he mutters. then, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as chūya pulls you tight against his chest. "c'mon doll. let me run a bath for us."
sitting between chūya's legs in the bathtub, you scrub shampoo bubbles through his hair as your boyfriend pours out another glass of expensive wine. "oy – don't get carried away. you know you're a lightweight," you tease.
"–am not!” he mutters defensively, rolling his eyes at you. then, bringing the glass to your lips, he parts your mouth with his thumb. "taste it, you'll like this one."
taking a sip, you savor the flavor on your tongue before passing the glass back to chūya. "oh, yeah, you said you had a bad day at work, right? what happened?"
"honestly, i can't even remember now," he sighs, putting the glass down and pressing a kiss to your temple. "how ‘bout you, doll? how was your day?"
you think for a moment, then scrunch up your nose in disgust as you recall the day's events. "don't even get me started–!"
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 3 months
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「 ✦ All to Myself ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Ryūnosuke Akutagawa
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A/N: aku won the poll! thank you everyone who voted and everyone who has been so supportive of me and my fics ♡ after writing this little ~drabble~ about what it would be like sleeping soundly next to aku, of course i just had to follow it up with some soft smut, too hehe. if you voted for atsushi, don't worry – i'm prolly going to write one for him next!
genre: f!reader, established relationship + virginity loss, fluffy smut!
content warning: MDNI! mentions of aku’s childhood trauma. bj, virginity loss (aku), brief blood mention (back scratching), a teeny bit of possessiveness, unprotected sex THIS IS MAD RISKY IRL JSYK, tons of reassurance, validation + validation seeking, and lots of saying "i love you" 🥹
summary: on a cold, february night, a night like every other night in this kill-or-be-killed world, fingers are reaching for fingers clumsily, pondering the meaning of the word safety and wondering if it’s possible to find it in another person.
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“you’re making a really cute face right now, ryū,” you giggle, poking at your boyfriend’s cheek. boyfriend – the idea of it was still so foreign to you and him both. you never thought that akutagawa would end up confessing his feelings to you – let alone having feelings for you in the first place. ryūnosuke was short-tempered and, as you quickly came to know as a civilian, feared. however, your friendship with gin had brought you close to him and now, here you two were, perhaps against all odds.
ryū's cheeks flush at your compliment; he paws your hands away from his face, still not used to your casual touch. his eyebrows furrow; his nose scrunches. “don’t mock me,” he mutters, averting your gaze awkwardly as he moves his weight away from you. then, a quiet smile settles on his lips as he steals a glance at you from the corner of his eyes. your face lights up in response – there’s that tiny crack of tenderness, a secret kept just between you two. it makes warmth spread all over you, then all over him.
tonight is a cold night, a night like every other night in this kill-or-be-killed world. somewhere in a slum not far off from yokohama, there is a family of orphan children sleeping in a slum. on a suicide mission about a mile east from akutagawa’s apartment, a group of port mafia executives are breathing their last breath. in the alleyway just around the corner, there is a man with a gun pressed to his temple.
but on this cold, february night, a night like every other night in this kill-or-be-killed world, akutagawa and you are inside – sitting on a mattress that has barely been slept on, fingers reaching for fingers clumsily, pondering the meaning of the word safety and wondering if it’s possible to find it in another person.
“can i… kiss you?” the request is so simple, but so special. affection is such a strange thing like that. akutagawa’s eyes widen, as though he’s bewildered by his own words, surprised that he's made such a request in the first place. but it’s too late to take back the words now – not that he wants to, anyway.
you’re both inept, fumbling to get closer to each other. shaky hands reach for your waist as you crawl into his lap, making him shift at the sudden closeness. it’s not your first time kissing someone, and you’re by no means a virgin, but akutagawa and you have never even cuddled, let alone been this intimate together. you feel timid fingers awkwardly stroking your hair, then his lips hesitantly brushing against yours. for the first time, ryūnosuke has no idea what he’s doing, and there’s no hiding it – there’s an intense heat radiating throughout his body and a clamminess in his hands, which he simply doesn’t know where to put, every time your lips meet. when he feels the soft, wetness of your tongue caressing his, he pulls back, an ashamed look on his face. “i… sorry.”
“you’re making that cute face again…” your voice is gentle, caring. you don't mean to tease him, yet a wave of embarrassment rushes through him. he looks away, absolutely frustrated with his inexperience and the way that you see right through him. he feels so incompetent. he’s just about ready to protest, but before he can, you plant a kiss on his cheek, giving him yet another reason to blush. “it’s okay, just let me show you,” you coo, threading your fingers through his. “just trust me. okay, ryū?”
he looks at you and nods sheepishly, letting you guide his hands back onto your hips. tilting your head to the side, you bring your lips to his once more. it’s a passionate kiss – long, languid, full of tenderness. this time, when you sweep your tongue into his mouth, he lets you in willingly, sinking deeper into your kiss, his fingers grasping the fabric of your blouse tighter. when you finally pull back, akutagawa’s cheeks are pink to the tips of his ears, making you giggle as he slowly lets go of you. “mhm, that was much better…” you hum in approval, playing with the hands that are laying in your lap.
your touch has always been different from what he's used to – you're kind, forgiving. you are the embodiment of what he's spent his life convincing himself is a weakness, yet you've proven to him that it's your greatest strength. he nods at you, an almost serious look on his face like he's memorizing your movements, then he leans in for another kiss – you feel his fingers meshing through your hair as he brings you closer. he’s gentle with his hands as he weaves them carefully through the strands, cautious not to snag or tangle them as he tucks them behind your ear.
then, to your surprise, you feel his lips elsewhere – the heat on his mouth on your neck, his soft breath traversing down your skin as he traces a line to your collarbone. “is it okay?” his voice holds nothing but compassion – a forbidden trace of humanity in akutagawa that he spent his life unlearning for the sake of survival – a speck of vulnerability that proves you're not you're not so different from him, after all. he crumbles, shatters under you. you nod in response and guide him to your shoulder, unbuttoning your blouse.
“ryū…” his name forms on your lips before you even have the chance to think it, but it’s only natural now – “do you love me?”
your words catch him off-guard. of all the things you could ask him, he never would have expected this – yet, just as you, he finds that he already knows the answer and that all he has to do is confirm it. “yes.” it’s a quiet response, uttered like a secret, as though if someone were to discover the truth, it would mean certain death for the two of you. then, he meets your gaze waveringly, suddenly realizing that he’s exposed his hand without knowing your own response. “do you love me back?”
there’s no denying it in the way you touch him, taking his cheek in your hand as you plant a soft kiss to his soft, waiting lips. “i love you. i always will.” – those words he’s never heard that make his hands tremble. he reaches for you – and for once in his life, he feels what he’s been yearning for is falling perfectly into his fingertips. the scent of your lavendar shampoo, lingering in the tendrils of your hair; the softness of your skin against his lips; the quiet sounds of your gasp when his teeth graze your neck – he wants all of it –
– is it really okay for him to have it?
can he have you like this? –
he’s unbuttoning the rest of your blouse now, trailing gentle kisses down your chest. clumsy hands struggle to unclasp your bra before palming and squeezing at the swell of your breasts, cherishing the experience of feeling another human being’s naked skin for the very first time. you gasp as he thumbs over your hardened nipples, then you feel the wetness of his mouth exploring the exposed skin with slow flicks of his tongue. his wandering hands feel up the sides of your body, eager to burn your shape into his memory. he doesn’t have to say that you’re beautiful – his eyes tell you so as he gazes at you hazily through thick lashes, exploring every part of you attentively. “ryū–” you moan out, your voice a whisper. “can i touch you, too?”
nodding, ryūnosuke undoes his shirt and slacks while you finish undressing. slipping the now-unbuttoned shirt down his toned shoulders, his body tenses at his complete vulnerability. the thought of being unclothed without rashōmon at his disposal is terrifying. “we don’t have to,” you reassure him, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “you don’t have to give me anything.”
“– but i want to.”
he interrupts you quickly, embarrassed at the sheer neediness in his voice and appalled by how easy it must be to read him right now. “i want you to touch me.” he looks away, embarrassed – there's no one in the world that he trusts more than you. then, gulping, he steadies his voice, finally meets your gaze determinedly. “i don’t want anyone else but you to touch me – will you touch me?”
you nod, then you seek him.
he grows in the palm of your hand. it's the first time he's ever felt the touch of someone other than himself, and his eyes watch you carefully, timidly – the way that those slender fingers of yours curl around the base and stroke him. your touch feels so different than his own. your movements are slow and intentional, so unlike the way he touches himself when he’s just trying to finish himself off in a hurry.
your gaze is hot on him, and he feels his cheeks burning under your scrutiny – and oh, wow, your hand is so small and so soft – and it feels so good wrapped around him like this. his breath is stuck in his throat; stifling a sound as you palm the wet tip, he watches as your finger collects a string of precum leaking at the slit. then, a muffled noise escapes him as he feels a wetness teasing at him – is that your tongue? wait... is he moaning right now?
he gasps, eyes widening as he realizes what’s happening – the gorgeous sight of you on your knees for him, in between his legs. you’re kissing the inside of his thigh, your hand still firm around him, and then your mouth is full of him, and he’s stammering out your name relentlessly. he’s out of breath, fingers threading through your hair, petting your head as you suck him off. “– a-ah… feels… good…” he's shocked at how vocal he is and wants to hide his face out of embarrassment, so he lets his head fall back and covers his eyes with his arm, hoping you won't see the sort of face he might be making for you.
then, you feel him reach for your breasts once more, molding them to the shape of his hands, before he tugs you into his lap, pulling you into another deep kiss. “can i have you?” he asks. there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. ryūnosuke is staring into your eyes seriously now, a certain urgency reflected in those dark, blackened irises of his, as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear before his eyes and might vanish into dust, as though this is some false reality. murmuring a soft ‘always’ in affirmation, you feel him press his mouth to your skin once more and litter your neck and shoulders with kisses, hands traversing across your skin like he can’t get enough of your body, craving to memorize every morsel of you.
“i love you,” he whispers, voice faltering as he meets your gaze. he melts into nothingness against your open mouth, pouring himself into your kisses, and soon, he grows hungry. his movements become more aggressive, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, carving craters into the dips in your skin. you feel him mark you, his teeth scraping your neck slightly as he sucks harshly on your tender skin, leaving behind splotches of pink and red. your fingers tangle in his black and silver hair as you bite back a moan at the pang of pain and pleasure intertwined – but your thoughts are filled with nothing but him as you chant in your head, i love you, i love you, i love you.
then, you ease him inside of you slowly, and you hear him moan softly into the crook of your shoulder and tighten his grip on your waist as you sink onto him completely. “nghh–...” the feeling of your wet warmth is too much to handle – he feels like he could cum any moment just from being inside of you. he never imagined that his first time would be raw – and that it would feel so, so good like this. you’re pulsing all around him, squeezing him so perfectly. with you gripping him so sweetly, he can every single one of your movements – each agonizing throb of your aching core. it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before.
what if he doesn’t last long? just the thought of it makes him feel so embarrassed and ashamed of himself – but as you lay a kiss on the protrusion of his cheekbone, looking at him with those kind, compassionate eyes, he’s reminded that there’s nothing he has to prove to you right now. he blushes, cheeks turning red, then brushes his lips against yours again. “it’s okay, you can go slow if you want,” you whisper in his ear, as though you've read his mind.
his movements are awkward, just as you’d expect from someone with no experience, but you guide him until his thrusts are steady. “is… is it okay? am i… doing okay?” ryū asks anxiously. there’s that incredibly cute, worried expression on his face again, that face that he makes when words fail him and confidence escapes him. his cheeks are flushed with heat as he looks up at you, waiting to hear your validation.
"don't worry so much," you murmur, caressing his cheek with your thumb. "you don't have to hold back with me, ryū. i want to make you feel good, okay?
i love you."
you feel akutagawa's weight shift on top of you. then, those eyes – eyes that echo your own emotions, eyes that are baring everything, are peering at you yearningly. in the sliver of moonlight peeking through his bedroom curtains, you can see all of him now – pale skin reflecting the silver glow of the sky, raised scars on his body that immortalize a traumatic past, bruises from pushing himself past the point of redemption in training. this is no hellhound – this boy is distinctively human; and these are the markings to prove it.
"i love you, too," he says breathlessly, in a voice as earnest as your own, "i love you so much."
he buries himself inside of you once more, pleasuring in the warmth of your walls and the way that your body grips him. there is no need to hide tonight from each other tonight, not when it's just the two of you in this room. as you wrap your legs around him, you feel his pelvis meet yours in slow, deliberate strokes. he focuses his attention on you completely. he's so beautiful, so loving – and you wonder what good you might have done in a past life time to be loved so tenderly by this man. allowing yourself to be swept into the tide of hips, you moan out his name as his pace quickens – as he pushes himself into you deeper, closer, until you're clinging onto him, your fingers burrowing into his shoulders. "ryū... you feel really good, ryū…”
the way that you coo for him makes his eyes widen –
"say it again. my name. please.
tell me i make you feel good. i need to hear it again..."
and you'll say it again – as many times as he wants. his name spills out of your lips like a broken dam and you overflow, mouthing 'i love you' over and over into the crease of his jaw as your nails rake across his back, piercing flesh and pricking blood.
"i... i own you now... you belong to me – you're mine, okay? only mine," he tells you, gazing into your eyes longingly, desperate to have the words repeated back to him.
but of course you’re his – you’ve only ever been his. “yours, ryū,” you whisper back, reaching up to stroke his cheek with your thumb, and for just a moment you could swear there’s tears about to well up in his disbelieving eyes. “i’m all yours – i’ll always be yours.”
tonight, it is cold, february night in yokohama. it is like any other night in this kill-or-be-killed world –
– except tonight, ryūnosuke and you are inside his apartment, sheltered from the cruelty of the outside world. your fingers are interlocked as you hold one another tightly, in the most intimate of ways – and for the first time in ryū's life, he feels his trembling hands become still, his breath become steady, his heartbeat slow.
outside, there's a drizzle of rain that's begun to prickle at the window panels in the shadows of his darkening room. somewhere in the slums, just at the outskirts of yokohama, there is a boy that looks like him, who knows nothing but suffering, who owns nothing at all, who has no one at all.
but tonight, none of that matters –
tonight, all that matters is this man in front of you, who is pulling you tight against his chest, and that soft voice rustling in your ear, whispering, "i'm yours, too. i'm all yours."
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author ps: eeeek i hope i did ok!!! wc was a bit higher than usual b/c i really do love aku, so i'm a little nervous T_T i really did enjoy writing this one, so i hope that you also like it and that i did aku justice. also, if anyone is interested in being added to a future taglist, please let me know and i’ll set one up!
© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 11 days
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「 ✦ 3 AM Thoughts ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Ryūnosuke Akutagawa
A/N: hiii shannon luv @4ngel-inc <3 i told u i was writing ab aku cuz of ur hc ... i couldn't stop thinking about him (*/_\) !
genre: gn!reader (yuhhh). MDNI! [18+ only] this is smut.
summary: akutagawa masturbates while thinking of you ;)
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Oh, god. He's not ... doing this again, right? It's embarrassing, honestly. He's sitting up in his bed, shrouded in shadow, nothing but the city light revealing the faint blush that's crept its way onto his cheeks as he traces your sweet lips in his mind, as he thinks back to the day's events and lets each fleeting interaction he had this with you this morning linger just a little longer than he should.
Your fingers brushed against his today when you settled the teacup in front of him. You might not have noticed, the way he retracted his hand so quickly, but it made him tremor slightly. It was a complete accident, he knows, but it sent him into a whirl nevertheless.
You and Akutagawa have been acquainted for awhile – you're far from intimate, but you're acquainted. You know him as Gin's older brother, and he ... he's had a crush on you for the longest time, but he doubts you've ever noticed.
For some unknown reason, he's captivated by you. Perhaps it's the way you never flinch at his temper, poking fun at it instead. Maybe it's how you see him for how he truly is, in a way that almost scares him. Or maybe it's something much simpler than that – the way you do your hair or your nails. Your vibrant laugh. Your warmth and how it soothes his emptiness. Who knows.
It's innocent thoughts tonight. That's what he insists. What it might be like to hold your hand in his, for example. Your hands must be warm; he felt its radiant heat for the brief second it touched his, or maybe he had just imagined it, and it was the steam of the teacup tickling his skin. Still, he'd like to think it was you; he'd like to picture those hands of yours smoothing along his slender waist, maybe as you'd hold him close the way he wishes he could hold you...
He'd like to picture those hands of yours caressing the protrusion of his cheekbone, brushing against it skin. He thinks of what it might feel like for you to run your thumb over his lips. He thinks of you running your hands through his hair, rearranging the strands of black and silver as you rake your fingers through his scalp. Then, for some reason, he thinks about what it might be like to have your fingernails scraping down his back, and he wonders what it might be like to fall on top of you.
His thoughts drift. He should be thinking about other things, he knows. He's wasting time again, he knows – and it makes him feel furious with himself. He should think about important things, like the infiltration strategy Chūya went over in today's meeting, but he's thinking about you instead.
Now, his hand is reaching for the covers, and he's lifting it up just to look as if he doesn't already know what he's going to see there.
He's hard, and it's pathetic.
Akutagawa hisses at the way his body betrays him. Can he not control his own sexual desires? He feels so pathetic –
But if this is what it takes, he'll just have to get it done and over with.
His hand reaches for the bottom of his shirt. He tugs it just slightly above his navel, inhaling quietly as the cold air hits him. Then, he closes his eyes and delicately traces the lean muscle of his abdomen, pretending it's your finger instead of his that's faintly dancing across his skin. It's gentle, the way he touches himself. It's the way he imagines you would do it, your touch soft and forgiving.
Then, he sighs softly, and he sinks deeper into the mattress. He trails his fingers lower, and he reaches for himself. This is the worst part of it... the most shameful part, he thinks. The part he can never bring himself to resist. His fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, and he finds himself pulsing with need. He lets out a muffled sound as his face flushes with heat. Then, slowly, he feels it through the fabric, picturing it's your hand and not his that's pleasuring him.
He'd like to think he's better than this. That he's not some horndog that needs to be relieved by fucking his own hand –
– But he wants it
He craves it.
He shuffles his boxers down his legs, then pulls the blanket up over his head. It's not like anyone can actually see him, but it's too embarrassing to be exposed, even in the dark. Then, he fists himself, grasping the shaft firmly in his hand with a grunt as he strokes himself faster.
It feels too good to touch himself like this – rougher and without restraint. His lips part in a sinful moan, and he quickly shoves his other hand against his mouth, forcing himself to be quiet. Shut up, he tells himself as he pants – he'll sound so stupid if he's loud.
His thoughts are full of you. Thoughts of filling you, more like it, as he jerks his hips toward his hand. He can picture it all in detail now – how gorgeous you'd look bouncing on top of him, your plush thighs holding him down, your dainty fingers tangled in his hair as you ride him. This time, he can't hold back as he groans softly, gasping as he chases after his imagination frantically, wishing he was fucking you instead of his hand – just a little closer and he's there.
And he knows better than to cum on his own stomach. He does – really. He should know better, at least. But it'll ruin it if he stops right now –
– so, he gets on his stomach anyway, rolling his hips against the mattress, rutting desperately against the blanket.
And he feels so pathetic, knowing he's better than this.
But it's 3 AM.
You're on his mind again.
All he can do is close his eyes and pretend he's fucking you instead of his own hand.
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 1 month
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die for you | Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Osamu Dazai
content warning: MDNI! this is smut. choking with some dark themes (touches on thoughts about tw!suicide/death bc it's dazai). also this isn't related/about necrophilia (just to clarify)
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thinking about your slender hand around dazai's neck while you ride him... the way your fingers wrap so perfectly around the whitening column as his face slowly pales. he smirks up at you, licking his lips, mouth parted slightly as he gazes up at you lustfully, watching the sinful way you get off on seeing him so vulnerable like this – oh, you like this, do you? the way his bandages come undone just for you while you're gripping the sides of his neck so perfectly, forcing him to look up at you.
you're so beautiful when you're in control of him. he feels like he's teetering on the edge of life itself when he's gasping out your name, spilling out inside of you, your thumb swiping across your sweet lips. you taste just like poison and he loves it so. take it all from him. take everything from him. put your fingers in his throat and watch him choke on his own spit – he'll drown in your desire and have his sight blur into whiteness if the last thing he sees is you. such a painless, pleasurable death.
oh, to meet death at your hands. to love you, to need you, to die for you – what a lovely way to go.
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @benkeibear!
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bsdawgz · 26 days
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「 ✦ You Get Me So High… ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Michizō Tachihara
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a/n: story would not exist without THIS idea from @mrsnakaj1ma, thank you sm Jessi for giving me permission to write it out ♡
genre: nasty cuz i’m a slut for tachihara
content: f!reader. MDNI! drug (marijuana) usage. dry humping + he cums in his pants.
summary: you and your best friend, tachihara, share a joint and discover you’re attracted to each other… really attracted to each other
(literal fuck around and find out moment)
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"C'mon, he's not worth it. He's not – and stop checking your fuckin' phone already." Your best friend, Tachihara, mutters as he keys into your apartment, tossing his bag on the floor.
It's now been exactly one week. One whole fucking week since the guy you matched with online last texted you back. What was wrong with you? Why didn't he like you anymore?
Your thoughts are about to spiral downward but Tachihara interrupts them, suddenly interjecting, "Damn, you let guys in here with your apartment looking like this?" as he points out the stack of dirty dishes in your kitchen sink that you've yet to wash and the mud track on the wooden floor by the pile of shoes.
"Yeah, as if your place is any better." You roll your eyes, hanging your jacket up in the closet by the door. "Those are your dishes, by the way. Your mess. So get to cleaning. And pick up your damn bag."
He scoffs. Then, with a disgruntled sigh, "Yes, ma'am," He sets his bag politely next to the sofa and starts cleaning, just like you asked. You grin at him smugly, making him side-eye you as you dry the dishes beside him. "What?" he snaps, irritated.
"Wow, look at you, following orders. This what they make you do in the Black Lizard?" You tease, making him roll his eyes in annoyance as you push him to the side with your shoulder playfully. "Here, let me take care of the rest of them."
Situating himself on the sofa, you hear the TV turn on in the background, then watch as Tachihara shuffles through his bag for a grinder. Reaching into his pocket, he out a small ziploc bag with buds, then glances up at you with a grin on his face. "You wanna smoke?"
"Of course," you respond with a smirk, shaking off the water from your hands as you make yourself comfortable beside him. "When have I ever said no to weed?"
As he rolls you a joint, you fumble through his bag for his lighter. "Here," he says, passing it to you and leaning in close to light it as you bring it to your lips. You sigh and take a long drag, then sink into the sofa before passing the joint back to him.
"Ugh, look." You point to your phone, groaning. "Still no text."
Taking a hit of his own, he snatches the TV remote. "God, just shut up and watch a movie with me. Stop thinking about that prick." Scrolling through the selections mindlessly, he picks the first thing on your recommended list.
"Listen–" you start, but he cuts you off, rolling his eyes again.
"Look. You're funny. You're nice. You're fun to be around. And you're hot, too. Okay? Now, pay attention to me and watch the movie. Jesus."
You shut up immediately, thrown off guard by what he said and the casual way he said it, and flustered by his words – but Tachihara pays you no mind, taking another hit and passing the joint back to you. You relax, figuring it must have been some friendly compliment, then grin to yourself as an idea comes to mind. "Close the windows. Let's hotbox this place."
It's not long until your apartment is filled with smoke, and you're giggling way too much at a joke that wasn't even that funny, your head resting on Tachihara's shoulder as he puffs out another cloud of smoke. "God, he wasn't even that cute," you laugh, burying your nose in Tachihara's neck. "He wasn't even cute!" He passes the joint to you, and you gladly take another dizzying hit, one that makes you cough out loud.
He chuckles softly at your realization, rubbing your back as you cough. "I told you, you have terrible taste in men."
"Oh yeah?" you tease, blowing a steady stream of smoke in his face. "You must be pretty terrible, then."
He smirks at your remark, feeling cocky now that you've both admitted you're attracted to each other. "Yeah, you think I'm cute, then?" he asks, taking another hit and bringing his face close – close enough to exchange smoke past your parted lips. Close enough to kiss you, even.
"Yeah," you murmur, then suddenly, he's pulling you into his lap and you're straddling him, and his lips are on yours. Soft, sweet lips. He kisses you so well, you wonder who the hell Tachihara could possibly be kissing when you're always on his ass about how he never gets girls. You grip him by his t-shirt and pull him closer, then you feel his hands travel down and squeeze your ass.
– Holy fuck. You definitely didn't think you'd be doing this with your best friend, but it feels too good to stop.
Your kisses grow hungrier. You feel his fingers grasp the side of your neck, hear his raspy breath in your ear. His lips are on your neck, then his teeth are skimming your skin, and you can feel his tongue teasing you before he's sucking splotches of red on your most sensitive spots. "God, Michi – fuck," you moan, tugging onto his hair and exchanging places with him.
He gasps when he feels your mouth on his own neck. You feel his body tense up underneath you, his fingertips digging into your thighs as you kiss him. He's making these soft moans, sounds you've never heard from him and never thought you'd ever hear from him, and all you can think about is how you wanna make him make more of them. "Hah, fuck," you hear him pant as he throws his head back, his hands intertwining in your hair. He rolls your hips against his, and you feel his dick pressing firmly against you through his sweats. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You can't help but wonder what his dick looks like, if he’s big. He definitely feels big… He feels… good. So good, the blunt head thrusting at you desperately as you grind against him, his name spilling out your lips while you’re clinging to him.
And his name sounds so natural coming from you. Unbelievably natural. He’s never heard you say his name like that. Now that you’re moaning out for him, just for him, the wet spot in his boxers is spreading. He’s warm all over as you reach for him. As you grope him through his sweats. As you kiss him, kiss him in all the right places that have him groaning into your ear –
The movie is background noise now, a quiet buzz that’s drowned out by the sound of his ragged breath. You’re both so high and horny for each other. You’re rutting against him like you’re in heat, and he’s thrusting up at you through his clothes, grabbing your ass roughly while the TV flickers to that empty grey screen. “Are you still watching?” it asks. Of course the fuck not. You stopped watching the minute Tachihara’s lips were on yours.
Then, you feel him twitch under you, hips convulsing, and his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s happening. “Wait – oh, shit… I’m…”
He sits up suddenly, then pushes you off his lap quickly. Then, he looks down where his sweats are now soaked through in cum.
“Ah, fuck –!”
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 28 days
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「 ✦ Behave ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Atsushi Nakajima
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a/n: (soft) dom!atsushi won the poll <3 thank u everyone for ur support on my fics! every like and esp follows + reblogs count sm and i rly luv when u interact wit me, send me msgs and stuff like that, it means sm to me that u enjoy my work :3 and idk if u will come back to read this anon but if u do, i hope u enjoy it <3
genre: da nasty
content warning: f!reader. MDNI! (soft) dom!atsushi. reader is a bit of a brat. bondage (handcuffs). fingering. orgasm denial. praise (lots of it). atsushi calls you "good girl." ;)
summary: it's about time atsushi taught you to follow the rules.
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no one would ever expect it.
– of course not.
the ada's sweet, blushing jinko was rushing through his paperwork all day today, so eager to get to your apartment tonight. what could he say? he just wanted to see you so badly.
he wanted to see that cute, embarrassed face of yours.
he wanted to cuff your hands behind your back and fuck you –
kunikida, for example, would never expect it.
his coworker stopped him right in his tracks while he was halfway out the door, hitting him with that unanswerable question: "where could YOU possibly be off to in such a hurry?" just as soon as he was about to leave. all atsushi could do was clutch his phone to his chest anxiously and hope kunikida didn't have the slightest suspicion about the sort of things atsushi might enjoy doing on his days off.
someone like kunikida would never understand it – no one at the ada would, really.
atsushi isn't nearly as clever as dazai or ranpo, nor is he indispensable like yosano, or strong like kenji. the bedroom is the only place he doesn't have to be anyone but himself. he doesn't need to prove his usefulness to you – between the sheets, there is no power struggle. you submit to him completely. you want him to take control.
and he'll take it – he'll take it over and over again.
by the time he reaches your apartment, it's already night. your place is is small but cozy, tucked away in a neighborhood a train ride away from yokohama, somewhere where there's not as much violent crime. you're laying on the rug on your bedroom floor, wearing nothing but his shirt and your panties, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. that's just like you to pay him no mind – to ignore him and feign innocence after playing such a dirty trick, knowing that you were probably on his mind for hours before. as he sets his bag on the bedside table, you barely move to acknowledge him, instead pleasantly thinking about how worked up and annoyed he must be at your blatant display of nonchalance.
"oh, you're here."
you turn over on your back, glancing up at him. there's that sweet face of yours. you're batting your eyelashes up at him like you hadn't done a thing at all, and now your shirt is riding up your thighs and ruching up the sides of your stomach. you know every weakness of his and exactly how to play them to your advantage. he rolls his eyes, kneeling down beside you. "yeah, i'm here."
snatching your phone from your hand, he tosses it on the bed in annoyance, and the first thing he does is scold you. "that wasn't very nice, you know, sending those videos during work. kunikida could have saw."
a frown forming on your face at his frustration, you pout at him. "did you not like them?"
you're too good at convincing him to forgive you – as if he were ever mad at you in the first place. his expression softens at your disappointed voice. you beam as he relents, pulling you into his lap and playing with the strands of your hair. "of course i did," he mutters as you relax into his gentle touch. "i liked them too much.
– but you know it's against the rules to touch yourself like that without me."
of course –
breaking the rules always meant punishment – and you'd be lying if you said this wasn't exactly what you wanted in the first place.
getting up from his position, you wait patiently as atsushi shuffles through the box hidden under your bed for the pair of cuffs saved exactly for punishments. you hear the quiet clinking of metal behind you, then feel atsushi's hands smoothing down your shoulders. "do you remember your safe-word?" he asks, and you nod, repeating it back to him.
"that's my girl..." he murmurs. his voice is a honeyed whisper in your ear, thick with desire and dripping with such sweetness as you feel him begin to adjust the restraints around your wrists from behind you. "just tell me if you want to stop, okay?" the leather is smooth against your skin but worn and slightly frayed, the cuffs already fit perfectly to your wrists from using them on you nights before. your back arches as you feel him tug on the restraints to test them, honey already collecting between your thighs at the anticipation of being touched by him.
you hear the quiet click of metal as he hooks the cuffs together. "is it comfortable?" he asks, his voice as gentle as always, and you feel his fingers intertwine with yours lovingly. you nod obediently, then melt into his touch as his hands brush through your hair, as his lips travel down your neck and your shoulder in a series of delicate kisses that you sigh into. you ache to kiss him back, to run your fingers through his silver hair, but the restraints hold you in place. all you can do is turn your body to slightly face him and hope he gets the message that you want more, that you want him to kiss you again as you tip your chin toward him, as you lean into his touch behind you.
you feel his hands grasping your waist, just slightly toying with the hem of your shirt. "you'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" – and he's brushing the underside of his thumb across your lips, gazing expectantly into your innocent eyes. nothing there but complete devotion. you nod, then his fingers are reaching elsewhere – between your thighs – and you're trembling with desire as you feel them hook under the waistband and peel the garment between your legs. "you're so wet already.
don't worry. i'll take care of you."
his fingertips are rough, calloused from all the fights he's been in, but his nails are perfectly trimmed, and he knows just where to touch you. the reassurances he murmurs into your neck make you pliant, and you spread your legs wider for him as he runs his fingers along the side of your thigh, teasing you with gentle brushes while his other hand grabs the swell of your breast. "pretty baby," he coos, and you turn your cheek toward him to gaze into his longing eyes. "you should have just waited for me to come home."
slowly dipping inside of you, you watch as your arousal drips from his fingertips. "baby, you're so wet... look," he sighs, lips soft against your earlobe. he's right – you're soaking, and the evidence is all there, the thin string of wetness webbing between his fingers as he pulls them between your legs. you gasp softly, half from embarrassment of just how wet he's made you already, and the other half from the feeling of a second finger being eased inside of you. you feel him smile behind you, grasping your waist tighter, "you can take it, baby, just like you take me. just stretch a little more."
then, he pulls his fingers out of you, and you hear the slick sound of them slipping out of you so easily. "but you want me here most, right?" he teases, his voice a low whisper in your ear, and you feel those skillful fingers of his encircling your pulsing clit – the place that he knows always makes you moan the loudest – and you nod desperately, hips chasing after his touch as you feel his fingers move farther and farther away.
"not yet, baby. not yet" –
and you obey.
you whine for him, beg for him, plead for him,
until his fingers seek you once more, until he brings you to the edge only to snatch it away over and over again.
when he can't take more of your begging, he unclasps you from your restraints, kisses up your inner thigh, gazes into your eyes lovingly and showers you with endless praises. then, pulling you into his arms, he bends you over your pillow, runs his hands up and down your body like you're a doll before taking you over and over until you've had your fill –
"that's my good girl," he whispers, kissing up and down your spine. "now you know to behave, right?"
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author ps: i didn't write about the aftercare, but any bdsm scene should always ALWAYS include aftercare. + ofc atsushi would give u the best aftercare ever <3
© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 4 months
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giving a handjob to atsushi...
a/n just a quick drabble hehe cuz i couldnt stop thinkin about writing smthn ab atsushi! this boy is too adorable and doesn’t get enough luv hehe... MDNI! this is smut.
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imagine sitting in atsushi’s lap at the ada’s dorm and teasing him with an agonizingly slow handjob under his boxers. it’s the middle of the night and he’s making these really soft whimpers that get caught in his throat. he’s trying so hard not to moan out loud because he really can’t have anyone knowing that he can actually make this kind of lewd noise… especially not with kyouka-chan and tanizaki’s rooms next door. he’s overthinking about the fact that you might see him making some sort of embarrassing expression, so he’s burying his face in the crook of his elbow or in his hands trying to hide it from you. at the same time, he can’t resist but peek through his fingers because he just needs to watch you touching him like this because it turns him on so much. he’s still a guy, after all. when he sees you’re watching him just as closely, he’ll gasp softly and his face will turn bright red, and you’ll feel him throb and twitch in your hands. you’ll have him squirming under your fingers the whole time, just struggling to keep still as that damp spot spreads in his boxers. when he just can’t take it anymore, he’ll be toppling over you on the futon with a breathless, “please, i really need it now,” and begging you to finish him.
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @v6que~!
Thank u everyone who has interacted wit me so far omg... I'm grateful!! Plz feel free to say hi sometime! & as always reblogs are so so appreciated cos I'm a new blog :3
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bsdawgz · 19 days
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「 ✦ I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship… ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Michizō Tachihara
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a/n: tachihara smut as promised (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ part2 of THIS post!
~if you read a lot of my work, you know that i usually dance around words like pussy but i actually use it in this one cuz my headcanon is that tachihara is a dirty, hard n fast type lover ahhh ><
genre: nasty
content: f!reader. MDNI! cunnilingus, rough sex, brief drug (marijuana) reference at the end. tachihara has a big dick. ♡
summary: looks like it's gonna be hard to stay "just friends" after this...
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"Oy, what the hell–?"
Tachihara is just about to fight you when you yank the blankets off his half-naked body, but once his vision focuses on you and he realizes he's not in any danger, he relaxes back into the bed. "Fucking shit, it's just you," he mutters, rubbing his eyes.
It's nearly 10PM when you impulsively decide to barge into his apartment and confront him after a week of no contact after the incident. But much to your annoyance, you find Tachihara still fast asleep in his bed, lying face-down with a pillow over his head.
"Just me?"
You scoff at his words, climbing into his bed and beating him over the head with his pillow. His face turns bright red as you situate yourself beside him, and he instinctively pulls the covers over his boxers, shifting uncomfortably as you move closer to him.
"Where the fuck have you been this whole time?" you press, clearly pissed off. You spent this whole week worrying about how your friendship might have been affected by what happened between you – after you and Tachihara went from smoking a joint and laughing to full-on making out and groping each other on your couch – but it doesn't look like Tachihara had thought about it at all.
You sigh, relenting.
"Look, Michi. Let's just move past it already," you decide to say after the silence between you two has gone on for too long to be comfortable. "You regret it, right? Let's just forget about it, then."
This time, it's Tachihara who sighs, rolling his eyes at you. "Listen," he says, tossing the pillow back at you. "I've just been busy," he insists. You only knew about his affiliation with Port. Explaining that he was infiltrating the mafia as a member of the Hunting Dogs was too complicated and would only endanger you.
"Besides," he starts, leaning back into his bed with a smug smirk. "Who said I regret anything?"
You're bunching up your fists at him for making excuses, then it hits you – the implication of what he's just laid out so plainly. He said it so off-handedly that it takes you a while to process, but once you realize exactly what he means, a faint blush creeps on your face.
When he's certain you understand him, he leans in closer... closer... – and the situation feels all too familiar.
"Look," he murmurs, then the back of his fingers are brushing gently against your cheek. You can see your reflection in his amber eyes as they flicker to your lips, and as you watch him, you can faintly remember the feeling of his kiss from a few nights before... How it felt to taste him in your mouth. "I just didn't wanna fuck up our friendship..." His voice is a low whisper, but there's a glowing fire in his eyes.
"Do you...?"
You didn't think it would come to this again, but here you are. You swear you can hear your heart beating in your chest as you stare into his eyes –
If you kiss now, there's nothing and no one to blame but yourselves...
But the answer is all too clear by the way your face flushes and the way your hands tremble as you wrap your arms around his neck. Who closes the gap, you don't know. You feel him cup your cheek in his palm, then his lips are pressing against yours. Those same soft, sweet lips that you can't get enough of...
He gets on top of you, laying you down on the mattress. It's that same springy mattress that you've played videogames on, taken naps together on, and shared joints on, never with any sexual implication. Now, though, he's pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it recklessly on the floor. "I'm not gonna stop this time," he says bluntly, and the straightforwardness with which he says it makes you feel embarrassed. "Unless you really want me to."
You've never seen Tachihara like this. He's your best friend, for God's sake. You've always been the demanding one in your friendship, bossing him around, and he's always followed you around and put up with your antics. Pinned beneath him like this, the roles are completely reversed. You wonder if Tachihara has always been this way, if this is how he normally is in bed. Is this what he's like with girls? Does he usually get on top of them like this and boss them around? Your face turns bright pink at the thought.
"I don't want you to stop this time," you tell him, trying to match his boldness as you undress yourself for him. He grins toothily at your response, pulling you in for another kiss by your chin. This time around, he’s rougher with his hands, gripping your hips and dragging you by your waist to the edge of the bed, where you're on your hands and knees for him.
His calloused hands squeeze your ass, fingertips digging into the fat. Then, he eases your legs apart, pressing chaste kisses up your inner thigh until he's kissing the soft spot, that place you want him most. You feel his fingers peeling your panties down your legs until you're bare for him, and you gasp as you feel the cold air hit you.
He drags his fingers along your slick, spreading your folds open, exposing you... and you can just sense him smirking behind you at your every reaction.
– You're wet for him. For him, Tachihara. Michizō. Michi. Your best friend. And it feels so damn good to him, knowing he's the one making you this horny.
Then, he leans in, tasting your sweetness on his eager lips. You writhe under the softness of his tongue as he teases you, as he collects your arousal on the tip, as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive spot. "Michi..." you stutter out, followed by a broken, "Fuck, Michi, oh God –..." as he eats you from the back like he's a starved man, pulling you flush against his mouth and moaning against your pussy, lapping up all you have to offer like a dog.
"Turn around and come here," he tells you suddenly, and you do as he says, watching as he gets up and strokes himself at the sight of your nakedness, at your glistening folds that are wet with his spit and your slick. When he's fully hard, he shuffles through his drawers for a condom, then wraps your legs tight around him from the edge of the bed.
He's barely eased the blunt head past your folds when you wince at his size. He's big, just as you imagined, but still bigger than you expected. You bite back a whimper as you take him inch by inch, his girth stretching you out so painfully well. Grabbing onto his forearm, you rake your nails against his flesh, your liquid eyes staring up at him in concern as your pussy squeezes around him erratically. "Michi, nnh – it's big..." you stammer out, struggling to adjust to him.
"Yeah?" he pants out, swiping his tongue over his lips seductively. He’s cocky from your words, half a grin on his face. His voice is strained from how tightly you're gripping him. You feel his hands smooth down your sides, making your body tingle from his hot touch, then he reaches down to caress your trembling lips with the underside of his thumb, stroking your cheekbone reassuring with his fingers. "You can take it," he whispers heatedly, "Take a deep breath for me." You nod up at him willingly, then do as he says. Then, you feel him finally bottom out on your exhale with a shaky sigh.
His strokes are slow and shallow at first. He gazes down at you with amber eyes that are hazy with lust, and he bats his lashes at you as he watches you watch him fuck you nice and slow... and his hands are everywhere – they wander down your body, making you shiver as he grasps your waist, as they travel down the sides of your hips, as they curve over your breasts. You arch your back as he rolls your hips toward him, chasing after the feeling of him. Then, you feel him get rougher.
You feel him pull the entirety of himself out of your warmed-up body, then cram himself back into your pulsing walls with a muffled groan, and you clench around him as he does it again and again, the sound of your skin against his filling the air as his pace quickens, as he shoves his hips against yours more recklessly.
Then, his fingers dig into you bruisingly as he grabs you fast and hard. You moan out for him shamelessly, burying your face into the crux of your elbow. He grins in satisfaction from the way your lips form the syllables of his name, then you feel his fingers wrap delicately around your neck before he tosses your leg over his shoulder. "Don't hide," he pants out, and he tips your chin up to peer into your desperate eyes, so that you're staring into his darkened gaze and that wicked smirk on his face.
– “I wanna see your face while I fuck you."
And you gasp at how greedy he is. So, so greedy, getting high on the feeling of you taking him so well, now that you're soaking wet for him. You glance down to where he's buried deep inside you, where he's making such a mess of you. You can see everything from this angle – how easily he's sliding in and out of you, how you're falling apart on him. How you’re swallowing him up so perfectly.
"God, you feel fucking good," he groans, throwing his head back in pleasure.
– Fucking your best friend like this, feels so fucking good.
You feel his thumb on your clit... His other hand reaching for your breast as he thrusts into you ruthlessly... as he fills your vision, as your body gives into him completely... and as you feel yourself approaching your high, as you unravel beneath him, as you cry out for more and beg for him to fuck you harder and harder, and you're thinking to yourself –
This is so wrong, right? Wrong, wrong, wrong. You shouldn't be doing this with your best friend, right?
But it's so good. So, so good – it makes you wonder why you hadn't done it sooner.
It makes you wanna do it again and again.
When all's done, you're on his bed, lighting another joint, passing it back and forth like it's nothing. It feels almost normal, hanging out like this. But not quite.
He rests his head on your lap, staring up at the ceiling as he blows a puff of smoke in the air. You run your fingers through his soft hair, reveling in the afterglow of your orgasm. Then, one of you breaks the silence.
"So, we're still best friends, right?"
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author ps: there may be another part. we'll see.
taglist: @shxlxnn @possiblydeceased @vyeisamazing @pe4rl-diver thank u thank u thank u for supporting me and my fics <3 ily and i appreciate every single one of u
© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 4 months
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「 ✦ Selfish ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu
a/n: hiiii h i hii! my first fic in god FOUR years??? i have never written for BSD before... but i'm excited to be a part of this community and get back into the ff writing scene and get to know everyone! i hope you will accept me as a part of ur community & that i can learn from everyone *__* onto the fic!
this takes place (s2 spoiler!) after oda's death while dazai is in port before he quits to join the detective agency. reader is female.
genre: angst and da nasty, f!reader
content: dazai is a meanie to you :((( meaningless sex, no aftercare, toxic and unrequited feelings, it's giving emotionally unavailable guy from tinder that you can't help but run to oops?
**minors DNI** cunnilingus & later he's a bit rough with you during sex
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why is he so selfish? is it not so selfish to act this way? a girl like you in the port mafia head’s bedroom. shouldn’t you be with some do-gooder? you know dazai isn’t going to be your boyfriend, right? no matter how right you treat him?
he’s not going to say the words, ‘i love you,’ and the warmth you feel in his arms is lost in his eyes. leaning against his desk, dazai absent-mindedly uncloaks his jacket, staring out the apartment window that looks over yokohama. there’s a certain solemnity in his gaze, something that you can never read. these days, dazai feels more and more distant – even more than before.
you approach him from the doorway. gingerly, your fingertips graze his hand, which is idling on some papers on his desk. you touch him, and he doesn’t move, not even an inch, his hand limp and cold against yours. no, don’t touch me, he feels an urge to say. the thought even surprises him, though he understands the impulse. now that odasaku’s gone and died, this body of his suddenly feels dirty. he remembers oda’s words.
don’t touch me, dazai thinks to himself. he aches at your touch. but he relents. sighs into your touch, even.
“dazai, what’s wrong?”
his lips turn down slightly in a frown at your inquiry, eyes clouded over in thought. it’s only a moment. barely noticeable, though your keen eye observes it. then he chirps up, “well well, shall we get to it?” he brushes you aside completely. there it is again, that facade of his that comes so naturally it’s got everyone fooled… almost everyone, anyway. he turns around with that smile on his face. that fake smile of his that’s always bothered you. that smile haunts you.
dazai’s fingers find your waist, his hand settling on the small of your back. now, it’s you who wants to push him away.
he never answers your questions – he just leaves you in the shadow like the others.
“you said you have a treat for me, yes? you know i don’t like to wait for these kind of things~” he hums, looking at you devilishly. “now, how about we get right to it?”
this is always how it goes.
now his breath is hot on your neck, his voice a whisper in your ear. his grip on your hips tighten.
“dazai–” you gasp, suddenly becoming weak for him as he corners you into the desk. why is he so selfish? he thinks to himself again. he knows he’s being selfish. but he can’t help it. your body is warm, and his is so very cold. he wants to steal your warmth and keep it all to himself.
“ah-ha, don’t act so surprised now,” he teases, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth. “this is what you want, right?” he pulls back again to make sure, a grin on his face. “or am i mistaken?” he’s not wrong – your little rendezvous at his apartment always start and end like this. you can never resist him. you feel your defenses lower. you want his defenses to lower for you, too.
but you know he’s not going to say the words, ‘i love you,’ and the warmth you feel in his arms is lost in those cold, unfeeling eyes.
why are you like this? you’re wondering to yourself. you know you’re being naïve again. why are you just like the others? you can’t stop comparing yourself to them, the countless imaginary women in your head. the thought of them makes you feel so helpless, so angry. when you relent to his touch like this, when you let him hold you like this, it feels so wrong. how many women has daza touched? how many girls has he brought here? did they all feel this way? do their hearts pound like yours? ache like yours?
“dazai…” your voice is weak. your voice is a whisper.
your voice is full of want.
your voice is full of need.
“i like it when you say my name,” he murmurs softly against your earlobe, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, a flippant grin forming on his lips as he brushes your hair to the side. you know just what comes next… and you’re not going to fight it, either.
his fingers travel up your body, then he grasps your neck in his hands. he teases the tender skin with his tongue, languidly licking along the side before finally taking you into his mouth and sucking gently. rougher, but never rough enough to leave a mark. he knows better than to mark you. you’re not his, and he’s not yours.
your head is spinning. your hand immediately goes for his pants, but he pushes you aside. “not yet –” slender fingers grab a hold of your waist and hoist you up to the table. “– face fuck me first.” he says it so casually and deadpan, it catches you off guard and makes your cheeks flush red. then he kneels before you and suddenly smirks up, some playful glint in his eye as he chuckles to himself, leaving you at a complete loss for words. dazai’s always like this, completely unreadable and unpredictable.
large hands travel up your skirt, smoothing the skin of your thighs. his gaze is full of wanton heat, full of lust, as his wandering fingers toy with the garter of your panties before slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. you shiver quietly and look away. “ah, embarrassed, are you?” he quirks his eyebrow, looking up at you deviously. no matter how much you’ve done this, you can’t help but feel flustered every single time. as you avert your gaze once again, he protests with a loud, exaggerated sigh. “uh-uh, eyes on me or i won’t do it at all. you want to watch, don’t you~?”
pulling you closer to him, he presses you to his eager lips. his tongue is warm and wet, and it knows you all too well from nights spent wrapped in his bandaged arms. you gasp at the sudden heat that envelops you, finding your hands suddenly tangled in his soft brown hair. he moans quietly against you, letting you know he enjoys your pleasure just as much, his fingers digging deep into the fat of your thighs. you try not to look but end up peeking at him only to meet his gaze, staring up at you shamelessly as he eats you, his saliva and your arousal smeared across his lips. soon enough, you feel his fingers penetrating you, one finger at first then two and three; he’s preparing you for him. you want him – “please… dazai… dazai…” his name is all you know, a quiet prayer on your lips. this man will be the end of you.
without saying a word, he suddenly grabs you again and tosses you on the bed with a reckless thud. you hear him shuffle through the desk for a condom, then he flips you onto your knees and pushes you into the mattress nonchalantly, like you’re no one at all. he doesn’t bother to take off the rest of your clothes or even his; he just unzips and lifts your skirt again, hands roughly grabbing a hold of your ass, then you feel the tip pressing flush against your entrance. “i’m gonna put it in now,” he says callously, not an ounce of feeling in his voice.
you’re so wet that it takes no time for you to stretch for him. he chuckles from behind you, an empty laugh. “i guess you enjoyed?” he teases, “you’re basically begging for it at this point.
reaching out to stroke your hair, dazai’s touch is gentle and almost loving as he lets the tendrils slip delicately through his fingertips. there it is again, you think to yourself as you feel a pang in your heart. that wretched touch that’s so achingly sweet it confuses you. there’s always that sudden switch up with, fleeting moments where he’s a different person. but it’s only an instance. he presses himself inside of you with a shaky breath, pushing you into the mattress roughly, and you find yourself in reality again. you don’t face each other. instead, you bury your face into the bed as he pulls you against him again and again and again until you forget all about that moment.
it’s better than way, you think to yourself. sometimes looking into his eyes is too confusing.
after all’s done, there’s nothing but silence between the two of you. dazai’s at his desk organizing some papers, and you’re sitting on the bed trying to collect yourself as the feeling of shame overtakes you. another night spent in this mysterious man’s bed, knowing you’re in love with someone who you can’t possibly ever have. as usual, you’re the first to break the silence. no point in asking him any more questions, or trying to make conversation. you’ve learned your place. “i should probably go,” you say.
dazai looks up at you for a second, almost disappointed, as though he were expecting you to ask him for more. it’s a rare instance of hesitation that surprises even him. “you can stay if you want,” he says flawlessly, acting it was a normal thing for him to ask you to stay in the middle of the day, for no reason at all. it catches you off guard, but the way that it comes out so naturally has you convincing yourself that the pause meant nothing. after all, what would dazai want with you? dazai is the head of port mafia. you are no one to him.
“didn’t you say there was something you wanted to give me?” he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
oh, that explains it all.
“oh, that — i, uh... i totally forgot,” you lie through your teeth. he looks almost disappointed, this time visibly frowning. but he perks up in no time.
“ah-ha, you’re so scatterbrained,” he says cheerfully, ruffling your hair. his words are followed by the emptiest laugh.
“next time?”
but dazai’s not there anymore. “right,” he says plainly, but he knows there is no next time. right, he’s being selfish, he thinks to himself. there’s no point in this at all.
you smile as best as you can, then the two of you wave farewell. as you walk down the steps of his apartment, you crumple an envelope in your hands, the reason you came in the first place, to deliver a letter you’d written weeks ago.
dazai:
i can’t see you anymore. it hurts to.
i can’t understand you at all.
i couldn’t tell you face to face because i knew i would cry.
i’m sorry i’m selfish.
you brought your hand to your mouth, suppressing the sob that was about to escape you. in your heart, somehow, you knew you couldn’t stop seeing him. his touch, his hands, his warmth, his scent. the way that he kissed you; the way that he fucked you. that lost look in his eyes. no, you could never leave him - for it’s become all too routine to you now.
what does he dream about? what does he smile about? what does he cry about? why do these things matter so much to you?
with these thoughts in your mind, you let your arms fall limply to your side and tossed the envelope into the garbage as you walked mindlessly from his apartment, the bitter taste of dazai’s tongue still on your lips.
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 3 months
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「 ✦ Cruel ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu
a/n: follow-up from this fic, i hope i did ok! i really like writing pm dazai... also i wanna thank everyone who has followed me/liked/reblogged my posts. i really didn't expect to get any attention at all, so it means so much to me T_T and i will def get to writing ab the other characters soon~
genre: angst. so much of it. and the nasty.
content warning: f!reader. unrequited(-ish) feelings (but not rly). toxic ass relationship (like, RLY unhealthy), dependent relationship... i hope you don't find MC deplorable because personally i find her real af
MDNI! rough sex, choking, fingering, degradation both from dazai and self (bitch, slut), humiliation, trauma, bj (facefucking). dazai is rly rough with main character and not very communicative beforehand, but he checks up on character during. sex is consensual, but main character continues to force herself to do things she doesn't want to for the sake of wanting to please dazai (there is no pressure or coercion involved on dazai's part, to clear that up). if there's anything else you think i should add, please let me know.
summary: after failing to stop sleeping with the port mafia executive, dazai osamu, despite your unrequited feelings, you've come to terms with the fact that you can't bring yourself to leave him behind. but dazai's determined to show you there's nothing in him worth fighting for.
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this place is all too familiar to you.
you’re bent over dazai’s desk and he’s towering over you from behind, pressed up against your body. there’s a haughty grin on his lips as he’s rucking up your skirt, grabbing your ass roughly and making you wonder when you began wearing short skirts all the time, if you’ve started doing it for the sake of easy access. after all, how many times in the past year that you’ve known this man has dazai actually taken the time to properly get you out of your clothes before fucking you, let alone gotten completely undressed for you himself? you could probably count it on one hand.
the thought makes you feel somewhat ashamed, knowing that you’re having routine sex with someone who won’t often do something as simple as strip naked for you. somehow the simple act of undressing feels all the more intimate, which makes you feel all the more distant from dazai, making him feel that much more removed in these fleeting moments you share. but of course, you don’t dare to mention it to him – not now, not ever. just let dazai’s hands roam where they wish, because more than anything, you want to please him. more than anything, you just want him to want you – whatever that might mean.
the last time you saw dazai, you had resolved to leave him for good, determining that your relationship was going nowhere. you were well-aware that dazai was only using you for sex, and that you were in the throes of an unrequited love with one of the most dangerous men in yokohama. but staving yourself off of a man like dazai, who could bring you in and out of heaven, was like trying to quit an addiction. you’ve never found yourself more attached to anyone in your life. it wasn’t long until you found yourself sleeping in his bed again. it was futile trying to fight it now.
“i said to look me in the eyes.” vicious words interrupt your thoughts, followed by an exasperated mutter of, “stupid bitch,” as you feel a few light slaps on your cheek. hands that once traveled up your skin so gently, caressing you and handling you like a fragile object, are now grabbing your neck and squeezing its sides, forcing you to meet his arrogant gaze. this is a different dazai than the one you know, a more cruel, more callous one. “ah, there’s my good girl,” he whispers coldly with a smirk, your jaw caught in his slender fingers as you now properly meet his gaze. “now, open your mouth for me… good. see how much prettier you are when you shut up and stop asking so many questions?”
he slips his thumb into your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before swiping your own saliva across your puckered lips.  “good… suck my fingers like the slut you are,” dazai murmurs erotically into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck as he dips his fingers in and out of your mouth.  “this is what you want, right? what you keep coming back for.”
his words are mean tonight, like he’s punishing you for trying to get too close to him. vengeful, almost. although it’s quite typical of him to get impatient and even indifferent, dazai’s not the type to bring this kind of demeanor into the bedroom… at least, he’s never shown this side of himself before. but tonight he is more than determined to bare it all to you, to show you what he is really made of – and teach you to stay away from him, for good.
as he looks into your big, trusting eyes, which have never gazed at him with malice, he bitterly reflects on his decision. the vastness of those eyes of yours have never held anything but pure intentions and righteousness. they represent everything that he is not… and they hold the same values that got odasaku killed. you are a mere civilian who threw herself into the port mafia’s radar by sleeping with one of its infamous executives. at this point, your name has snaked its way into the mouth of dazai’s underlings; his enemies have readied themselves at your door. dazai was selfish to think he can keep you all to himself, his precious little treasure.
this was bound to happen, anyway. better that it ends now.
before you fool yourself into thinking a man like him can amount to anything more than a killer.
before your hands get soiled with blood.
before you’re shot dead…
… and before he’s convinced himself that he has a right to any of this. a right to see you, a right to hold you, a right to one day love you.
that’s why tonight, he’ll push you to your limits until you cry out in pain and pleasure; and when you’ve had enough of him and tell him to stop, he’ll leave wordlessly and never return, so you’re left only with the memory of his callousness and utter disregard for you.
gazing into the expectant eyes that are staring into his, dazai hikes his hands up your shirt to palm your breasts only to be surprised to feel nothing but bare skin. “no bra? you really are a slut, huh?” he shakes his head with a dry laugh as he tugs your shirt over your head, discarding the article of clothing on the floor. “always so desperate to be fucked.” nipples hardening at the brush of his hand, you bite back a sinful moan as he teases you with fleeting touches that send pulses to your core. the sight of you so vulnerable in his arms makes him hard; you feel his erection pressing into your back as he plays with your nipples. before you know it, those beautiful fingers of his are reaching for where you want him most – between your thighs, pushing aside your panties and sliding between your slickness.
he gasps mockingly as if he’s surprised you’re wet for him, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. his hands know you well, his fingers finding the spot that makes you feel the best and rubbing in agonizingly slow circles. you can’t help but let his name roll off your tongue and let him know who you belong to, a quiet prayer on your tongue. succumbing to his touch so easily feels almost like a sin, but if it’s dazai, you’d do it in a heartbeat every time. even if it meant going to hell for it.
intoxicated by his cologne and blinded by his touch, when you feel his lips traversing your neck, you’re thinking to yourself like a fool: yes, this is how it should be. dazai’s awfully gentle now. this is how it should always be. you’re starved for him, begging for him to want you.
begging for him to love you.
but this man will never love you.
because this man is the devil.
“get on your knees, pretty girl.” there are those sweet words of his – ‘pretty girl.’ that term of endearment that he’s whispered affectionately against against your neck when his arms are wrapped around your waist at night, when it’s too dark to head home and you find yourself tangled under the sheets until daytime – those words that have confused you, that have left your brain a muddled mess, that offered you a glimpse into the gentleness that could be. tonight, there’s not a trace of kindness in his unyielding voice – nothing to confuse for kindness. his hands are rough, reckless. tossing you over, he faces you with a look that’s condescending and rotten. “get on your knees, and remind me why i keep you around in the first place.”
you’ll take it.
you’ll take it all –
– even if he’s hitting the back of your throat and gripping your hair so tightly that you can barely breathe, that tears are welling in your eyes, that you’re choking on him. you can hardly keep up with his pace, hands clawing at the floor in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. you’re a distraught mess, lips swollen from his shoving himself into you, saliva dribbling down your chin, an undignified whore. but you’ll take it. you’ll take it all, if that’s what it takes to keep him even for a moment more. you’ll squash the feeling that this is so, so wrong, the awareness that he’s fucking you like an object, the knowledge that you’re nothing but a piece of meat to him.
if that’s what it takes to keep him, even if just for a little longer –
– you’ll take it all.
but when he sees those tear-stained eyes of yours, he just can’t bring himself to do it anymore. he pulls out of your mouth completely, leaving you coughing uncontrollably and desperately gasping for breath. a wave of guilt washes over him, knowing that he put you in this condition in the first place. “come here,” he says harshly, trying to keep up his façade as his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips. he tosses you onto the bed, the spring mattress squeaking under your weight, then you feel his body against yours from behind as he covers your eyes with one large hand until you see nothing but black. “don’t tell me you still like this?” he asks in a serious tone. he’s so close to you that you can hear his soft pants against your neck, feel the heat radiating from his skin; he must still be worn out from before.
but you say nothing, nothing at all, your lips sealed in a tight line.
he scoffs at your silence, his grip on your body loosening. “use your words. aren’t you going to tell me to stop?”
you turn to look at him, and your gaze finally meets his once more. your eyes are clouded with tears, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. but your eyes are unwavering. that grotesque look that he just can’t stand – those big eyes, still full of devotion, unconditional resolve. eyes that are full of nothing but righteousness. he’s the source of your pain, and yet you look at him with nothing but kindness. you look at him as though he can offer you some sort of salvation —
but this man can’t even save you from himself.
“i’m… i’m not.” your voice is meek, a sob escaping you.
you find your body shaking frantically, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness and the fact that dazai’s practically completely clothed.
he takes a seat next to you on the bed and wraps a blanket around you, deep brown irises staring into your eyes dubiously, as though he can’t believe a word that you’re saying. then, reaching out to cradle your face gently in his hand, he strokes your cheek with his thumb. his tender caress makes you sick to your stomach and you feel bile rising in your throat – you wish he would go back to fucking you senselessly and calling you names, if only just to make this cruel fantasy go away.
“don’t touch me like that anymore!” you suddenly blurt out of spite, shoving dazai away angrily. “don’t you know how confusing you’re being right now?” you cover your face in your hands like a child just to keep him from seeing you break down, as if you could possibly hide your stifled cries and the tears streaming down your stained cheeks.
“i see,” he says in a quiet voice, hesitating as he retracts his hand. there’s a grimace on his face as he withholds his words, resisting the urge to say something, anything, to ease the pain. but he knows there’s nothing he could say to take back all that’s been done. a tension hangs in the air, disrupted only by the sound of your shaky breath as you heave into the palms of your hands, pressed firmly over your mouth to silence your heartbroken cries. bending over in pain, there’s an empty pit in your chest as you crawl into his lap like a kicked-down dog. dazai makes no movement to get up, just lets you fall against him and hums softly to comfort you, stroking the tendrils of your hair like a wandering ghost.
when your tears finally subside, leaving nothing but your shattered memories, you glance up at him only to find he’s been gazing at you the whole time. on his face, there was a pained expression. something like regret for the past, or maybe even the future.
he looked as though he had been crying, too.
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(c) BSDAWGZ Don't steal or plaigarize cos that's mean... and if you enjoyed the fic, please share! Remember, likes don't share my work, reblogs do! ^^~ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 3 months
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quiet nights spent in akutagawa's apartment...
a/n: no warnings! pure fluff for my love, aku ♡
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the room is shrouded in shadows, save for the tiny glimmer of skyscraper lights that peek through the curtains, illuminating the silver strands in ryū's hair and the scars on his back – mementos of his painful childhood. you run your fingers down his skin and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. at first, he tenses, the idea of affection still unfamiliar territory. then, he lowers his defenses – one by one, then all at once.
growing up in the slums, where he had to fend for his life, ryū was raised on a kill-or-be-killed philosophy. it's only in this bed that he'll allow himself to have his back turned. tonight, he's tangled in your arms, his body pressed against yours.
the smell of your shampoo, the suppleness of your skin, and the warmth of your body – this is his home now. relaxing into your touch, he reaches for your hand instinctively, intertwining his fingers with yours. his breath becomes steady as he finds himself lulling into a peaceful sleep...
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 3 months
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「BSDAWGZ MASTERLIST」
⤏ please do not interact with any of the smut if you are a minor. this should be self-explanatory.
osamu dazai.
☆ part one: selfish | pm! dazai, smut, angst ... ▹despite knowing your relationship is going nowhere, you and dazai can't seem to keep your minds – or your hands – off each other
↳ part two: cruel | pm! dazai, smut, angst ... ▹you've come to terms with the fact that you can’t bring yourself to leave dazai, but he's determined to show you there’s nothing in him worth fighting for
☆ closer | smut ... ▹ in the morning, dazai likes to spoil you in bed
☆ die for you | smut, drabble ... ▹ to die with your hands around his neck would be a perfect death
atsushi nakajima.
☆ giving a handjob to atsushi | smut, drabble
☆ yours | smut, angst ... no matter what happens, you'll always run back into the arms of the man who taught you how to love – and he'll run right back to you, too
☆ behave | (soft) dom! atsushi, smut ... ▹it's about time atsushi taught you to follow the rules.
chūya nakahara.
☆ waiting for you | smut ... ▹after a tough day at work, there’s nothing you want more than to be dicked down by your boyfriend, chūya
ryūnosuke akutagawa.
☆ quiet nights spent in aku's apartment | fluff, drabble
☆ all to myself | smut with some fluff ... ▹you and aku ponder the meaning of the word safety and wondering if it’s possible to find it in another person
☆ 3 am thoughts | smut ... ▹ akutagawa masturbates while thinking of you
michizō tachihara.
☆ you get me so high... | smut ... ▹you and your best friend, tachihara, share a joint and discover you’re attracted to each other… really attracted to each other
↳ part two: i wanna ruin our friendship | smut ... ▹looks like it's gonna be hard to stay "just friends" after this...
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© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @v6que!
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bsdawgz · 1 month
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「 ✦ Yours ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Atsushi Nakajima
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a/n: took a while but here is the ~atsushi~ counterpart from the soft aku vs. atsushi fic poll. (here is the soft aku fic) i hope you enjoy ♡
genre: f!reader. smut with angst (you cheated on atsushi omg... 🥲). makeup sex.
content warnings: MDNI! possessiveness, unprotected sex + he cums inside (*these are very risky*), overstimulation, general angst, he gets rough at the end (yes ik it was supposed to be a soft fic, but...)
summary: no matter what happens, you'll always run back into the arms of the man who taught you how to love – and he'll run right back to you, too.
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you don't know exactly how you ended up here. come to think of it, though, this is always where you end up – right in front of the ada's dorm at the crack of dawn. once the drunkenness of twilight has settled into a sobered reality, your feet stumble on their own in front of this door, seeking shelter from whatever it was that sent you reeling in the first place. it's been said that night time is the play time for sinners and devils. this past year, you found out that you're no exception to that rule – for here you are as living proof, crawling back in search of forgiveness from the very person you've wronged.
"for atsushi?" a familiar voice calls from behind you before your knuckles rap at the door. you barely heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, but you're not surprised to find that dazai's still up. how appropriate for the two people guilty to both be wide awake at this hour. still, running into him like this sends a shiver up your spine. you freeze in your tracks, half expecting him to discourage you from what you're about to do – but instead he just walks past you without another word, and maybe that's even worse. it's just a reminder that you were nothing to him, and that he's barely had to suffer from the consequences of the night you caught together.
you'd imagine that sleeping with atsushi's girlfriend put a strain on dazai's personal and professional relationship with him, even if it only happened one time. at the end of the day though, dazai was atsushi's superior – and the source of his food and housing – and atsushi had no choice but to accept that reality.
you, on the other hand, were cut out of his life. it had been months of no contact between you and your now ex-boyfriend. all texts were left on seen, every call sent to voicemail. you could even swear that atsushi was avoiding all the spots he used to frequent, just to make sure he didn't run into you by chance. you never thought you'd be a cheater – never, ever in a million years – but here you were, having done that very thing to the person who taught you the meaning of unconditional love.
how could you be so selfish? so thoughtless? stupid, even? you'd take it all back in an instant, but you know can't. your feet are about to move. you're about to turn back. you should... yes, that's exactly what you should do. tonight feels too soon – it's all wrong. running into dazai last minute proves that.
and yet, just as you're about to bolt down the stairs, you hear it – the sound of the door in front of you unlocking. it's like a quiet charm. his voice is like a wish that you whispered under your breath. "it's you..." soft-spoken, just as he always has been, and there he is –
– atsushi nakajima himself.
"do you need something?"
there's no malice in his voice – just the same tenderness that he's always carried with him. something about it in this moment feels heartbreaking. you almost want him to yell at you or scold you, just so you can apologize to him with your whole self, or let him know how much you've regretted that day. instead, he stands there with his arms drooped at his sides, unfeeling. it's cruel, that minute of empty silence. you wonder if he's about to close the door on you. maybe he should. it feels like you're miles apart, and the distance is deafening.
just one second more, you think to yourself. it's selfish, you know. let me memorize what you look like. let me remember how your bangs fall. the color of your eyes.
you open your lips to speak, but it's your feet that move instead. one moment you're in front of him, but then you blink, and you're closing the distance between you – you're sobbing on his shoulder, your arms around his neck. silence, save for the sound of your stifled cries against his now-stained sweater.
he wants to push you away, but he doesn't. his arms wrap around your waist instead. the feeling of your body, pressed tight to his, is all too familiar. you're warm, and you smell so nice. it's that same shampoo you've always used, the one he likes on you. you're pretty today, hair falling into place like this. you're just as he remembers. this is his favorite knit on you – you look just as lovely as you did yesterday.
he says nothing, stunned. what is there to say in a situation like this? all he can do is cling to you, hope you don’t let go of him the way you did many nights before… that you don’t tire of him, toss him aside like you did that night. "why didn't you come back sooner–?" there’s a tremble in his voice, and he falls apart. when you meet his gaze, you realize the reason he hasn't pulled away is because there are tears in his liquid eyes. "don't tell me you wanted him instead?" his voice falters. you shake your head wildly, trying to force him to look at you again, but he's pawing your hands away. there’s a pain expression on his face when he finally looks back up at you, wincing. it’s like that of a beaten dog that's come crawling back to its master.
"i thought you hated me..." you confess, words spilling out, "– and you have every right to... it should have only been you.
i only want you."
your words strike him down. his hands are pushing you away at first. at least, that's what he thinks, because every part of him is telling you that's what they should be doing. every part of him is telling him to tell you to get out of his sight, to get out of his life, because he knows it must be wrong to do what he’s about to do. there's a reason that he avoided you in the first place, isn’t there?
but he's past the point of return now – in his heart, he knew this is just how you two would end up.
there's a reason he avoided you in the first place after all, isn't there?
with you in his arms, looking at him the same way you always have, it's no use. guided by sheer instinct, there's no shred of timidness in the fierce way that he grabs at you now. those same hands that pushed you away are now reaching for you, pulling you into his arms with just as much ferocity, eager to hold you again. there's a neediness to the way that he clings to every curve and crevice. you melt into him, and his lips are on yours.
it's been so long – too long. he didn't think your reunion would go like this. at least, he imagined that if it would begin with more talking. with you standing in front of him, though, the memories are all coming back so suddenly –
every laugh, every look;
every argument.
you were his first everything – god, he missed you.
how did he last this long without you?
his hands find your waist first, molding to your form. then, the next thing you know, his hands are on your ass, and he's digging into the fat with his fingertips, and you feel him pin his hips flush against yours as he backs you into the darkness of his room. tonight, it's not enough to just have you – he needs to claim you, all of you.
the door locks behind you, a quiet clinking of metal as atsushi's fingers fumble with the handle, then you feel your back thud loudly against the wall that you know is shared with dazai's room. you gasp quietly as teeth skim your neck, his lips latching onto the tender skin between your collarbone and shoulder. then, you feel his hands grasping you clumsily as he undresses you hastily, desperate to cover every inch that he's touched, to erase every memory of him that might be left.
"am i... being too rough?" he asks concernedly as he helps you out of your cardigan, discarding it on the floor. his voice is a heated whisper in your ear. "it's okay?"
groping him through his pants, you hear his breath grow shallow, watch as he swallows his own spit, his iridescent eyes following you closely as you trace his outline. his breath is ragged, hungry. he lowers his hands from you – lowers all of his defenses – and you sink to your knees, your hands caressing him everywhere, your lips tracing the lean muscle of his body, your mouth re-mapping his skin into your memory... as if you could ever forget what atsushi, of all people, feel like, when he's the very person who taught you what it meant to truly love someone.
your fingers hooking on the waistband of his pajamas, you tug them down his legs along with his boxers, then take his length into your hands. he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, holding your gaze as you stroke him once from base to tip, enamored completely by the way you look right now on your knees for him – how long has it been since you've touched him like this? he's ashamed to admit that he's thought about this day more than once, now forced to spend an awful amount of time reflecting on how different his calloused hand feels from yours when he's touching himself at night, alone. now, here you are right in front of him, your palm wrapped around him so perfectly. it feels like a fantasy.
you're kissing it, lips pressed to the pretty tip as you bat your eyes at him. atsushi's barely had the time to process that you're here, and now you're flicking away the beads of pearlescent precum with your soft, wet tongue – and god, it feels so heavenly to have you like this. he reaches for you mindlessly, petting your hair, then he lets out these beautifully soft, whimpered moans as you suck on him – a breathless "oh my god..." rolling off of his lips when you finally take all of him into your mouth. "feels... so good..."
then suddenly, you hear him curse under his breath, tossing his head backward when you feel him abruptly hit the back of your throat, hips thrusting forward –
"– ah, god... fuck..." – before he quickly shoves his hand against his mouth in complete embarrassment, face flushing bright pink as he stammers out a quick apology and steadies himself. it's the first time you've ever heard him say something like that during such an intimate act. you stare at him wide-eyed, shocked, but he's avoiding looking at you now, blushing to himself and watching you through his fingers as he pants quietly into the palm of his hands.
then, "kiss me – please." it's a simple request, but it's full of urgency. god, how he's missed you. he cups your cheeks in his hands and brings your lips to his. it's a passionate kiss, sloppy and wet, the type of kiss that has teeth clumsily collide and noses briefly bump against each other. you feel his hand grasp your thigh. he wraps it around his waist, then suddenly his fingers are seeking you through your cotton panties. he pushes the fabric to the side, then you gasp aloud as you feel those slender fingers of his thrust so deep inside of you. it feels dirty – too dirty, even. different, at the very least. the two of you have only ever made love before, and now he's fucking you with his fingers.
"does it feel good?" his voice is a low whisper in your ear. you can feel his hot breath on your neck, his tongue teasing your earlobe, as he slides his fingers in and out of you, collecting your sticky arousal on his fingertips. you moan as you feel his thumb find your clit, making slow, steady circles, then you pull back from the kiss to look at him, just to see the face he might be making at you. he's gazing at you with these half-lidded, lustful eyes that are just desperate to hear your praise. though inexperienced, atsushi's always been an attentive lover, keen to your every sound and movement. as his first, you taught him everything he knows – and as such, you've taught him exactly how to pleasure you. drawing his name from your sweet lips comes all too easily.
he's greedy with his fingers, eager to taste you on his tongue, and you watch him as he licks you off his fingers and kisses you again and again like it's never enough. he's even greedier with his words, eyes glinting with satisfaction after you cum on his fingertips, crying out for him.
"i can make you feel better than he can," he coos into your neck as you convulse in his arms. "i'll make you feel so good."
atsushi's never thought of himself as a possessive man, but things certainly change when someone takes away what's rightfully his. now, with you singing his praises, he can't help but want more. fingertips burrowing into your hips, he bends you over his desk and you hear him ask,
"can i put it in just like this?"
your eyes widen –
of all the things he could have said, you'd never expect this – and from atsushi, of all people. "raw?" you stutter out in disbelief, and he nods at you unflinchingly, continuing to pamper you with his affection, hands reaching for your breasts, shaping and squeezing them around his palms. "it's risky..." your voice trails on the last syllable, words subsiding into a soft moan as you feel his finger traces around your nipple before he claims them with his tongue. you push the messy bangs out of his forehead to read his expression, but there's not an ounce of hesitation on his face.
– "i know that."
you're trying to think straight, but you can't. all you can think about is how intensely hot your body feels right now, and what it might feel like to have him fuck you until you've been completely forgiven. slipping your soiled panties down your legs, you nod at him to continue. "yes, i want it," you whisper desperately, and you're surprised when your voice comes out like a whine as you ease your thighs apart for him. "put it in… please –"
he nods, then reaches for himself. he's as gentle as he always has been with you – perhaps even more so tonight as he presses fleeting kisses to your hair and murmurs reassurances into your shoulder that he's about to put it inside. his lips are soft against your neck and spine.
you moan as as he slips the blunt head inside your wet, waiting entrance. he’s careful not to hurt you, guiding it slowly. it’s perfect. how long has it been since you've felt this – since you've felt him touching you like this? so loving. so right. you sigh into his touch, listen to the sound of his sharp inhale and feel him nearly collapse into your back once he bottoms out inside you.
he's amazed by the feeling of your bareness against him and the way your slickness squeezes around him. he pauses, then glances down. oh, wow – the sight of himself disappearing inside of you is enough to drive him wild. you're so warm and wet. kunikida was wrong when he said sex without a condom feels the same as sex with a condom. he must have been lying just to keep him safe when he first started having sex because this feels a thousand times better – he can feel everything like this, all of you. every ridge, every pulse, the very ache that’s throbbing inside of you. you're gripping him so perfectly. he needs it so badly… needs you so badly.
"mm, it's so good..." he groans, pressing his lips to your neck. then, you feel him start to move from behind you, hear the quiet sound of his skin hitting yours as he brings your hips back against him, nice and slow. the room is silence save for the sound of your breath becoming shallow as his pace quickens. his fingers seek you again between the thighs, and you shudder forward, burying your face into the wood of the table as you gasp. "does it feel good for you too?" his voice is a low whisper in your ear. "yeah?"
you whimper out your approvals, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit again. you're so sensitive from your last high that you cry out, sobbing as you beg for more. he pins your wrists behind your back, pushing you into his desk, and you feel him reach you at an angle you've never felt him before. he's so rough tonight – but it feels so good.
"h-harder–" you stammer out, and you feel him shove your face against the desk as he thrusts faster. "i need you so bad." you're liquid in his hands and you melt as you moan out his name, tthe syllables are sloppy on your tongue, spilling from your lips like water as you cum from his fingers again.
"a... tsu.. shi... please. atsushi..."
yes, say it just like that – atsushi, atsushi. atsushi.
then, "where do you want it?"
– "inside me."
you feel his fingers tip your chin toward him, then his eyes are on you.
there's not an ounce of malice behind those iridescent eyes as he bats his eyelashes at you – just the same tenderness that he's always carried with him.
"watch me cum for you."
there's a steadiness to his voice, an unwavering certainty as he captures his lips in yours and leaves you breathless. "you're mine. don’t ever leave me again.”
then, you feel it: his cum leaking down your thighs.
warm and white, trickling down your legs.
you'll take all of it, all of him.
"i'm yours, atsushi. yours… yours."
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author ps: yes it has similar themes to the aku x reader one yes i am a sskk shipper on the side
© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 3 months
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✧ cheapy, they/them. 18+. ⤏ masterlist!
✧ i post and interact with nsfw content, so MDNI plz~
✧ this is a side blog so any follows/interactions will come from my main blog
✧ things i like: jellyfish and aquatic life, shōjo anime and manga, the band lamp, snoopy, coffee with milk, mitarashi dango, otoge, collecting figurines
✧ things i won't write about: non-con, incest, somno, stuff with feet, scat/piss, race or specific body type, ships, m! reader, i'll probably add more to this list later
✧ i do not take requests but my ask box is always open if you wanna talk about your day, hang out, or thirst over a character. i'm friendly, promise! ♡
✧ fun fact: i'm a heavy skk and sskk shipper although i don't write about it
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basic rules. ⤏
i won't tolerate ... any racism, homophobia, sexism, pedophilia, zionism, or anti-semitism (no, those are not mutually exclusive). i won't be engaging with sm political content, but i am pro-palestine and anti-imperialist.
please do not interact with me if you fetishize asians in any way, especially if you over glorify japan or japanese culture. just don't.
lastly, don't steal or repost my works! that's plagairism, and it's mean.
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(c) BSDAWGS 2024, beautiful dividers by @v6que~!
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bsdawgz · 15 days
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wouldn't it be really funny if reader accidentally trains atsushi to have a pavlovian response to them putting their hair up. like atsushi sees them casually tying their hair up so they can focus on work and he immediately gets visibly hard because reader always does that before giving him head 😭
oh my fucking god...
yeesh anon, that's dirty!! i love it (¬ ͜ ͡¬)
poor baby is just minding his own business, trying to get his paperwork done in time. then, he glances your way and sees you tying your hair up and he's suddenly hard and has no idea why ...
his face gets all red, he's shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide that he's so turned on right now for no apparent reason. his body is getting so hot; his mind is now just full of lewd thoughts of you on your knees in between his thighs.
and god, why is he thinking these things at work right now? fuck
meanwhile, ranpo's got the whole thing figured out - he's swiveling in his chair, feet kicked back, smirking. this is the third time it's happened this week, after all.
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