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#dazai fluff
bau-bee312 · 3 days
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♡ 𝐈 𝐝𝐮𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞٫ 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐲! ♡
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Reader gender not specified. Slightly OOC.
for us sleepy girls <3
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who is definitely a stranger to high amounts of love from others. Even through his sexual relations in his port mafia days he never had the pleasure let alone the opportunity to feel true love and affection from the people surrounding him.
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who feels a overwhelming mixture of surprise and a foreign exuberance when you plop down on top of him suddenly as he lays on the agency couch. You had seen him laze around the office every day and had never allowed yourself to join him no matter how long he pleaded. However today you had finished your reports early and decided to take a nap on the couch, with him.
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who has absolutely no idea how to react at the sudden closeness. He stiffened up almost immediately, eyes racing down to where you now lay. With your one arm draped across him, the leg that wasn’t hanging off the narrow couch hooked on one of his, and to top it all off you had your head resting on him, head sideways so you could breath, resulting in a smooshed cheek as you looked back at him with half lidded eyes.
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who for once had nothing to say, but he quickly and expertly wiped the bewilderment off of his regularly composed face. He shot you a boyish grin as a replacement.
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who’s quick to speak, as always. “Oh? To what do I owe the pleasure of such a comfy visit from my darling?”
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 Who is pleasantly surprised when you hush him, rasping something alone the lines of “Just enjoy it”
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 Who has no objections and pulls you up closer to his face by your waist. Resting his chin on your head as he feels your breath slow and pan out. Realizing then how tired you must have been.
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 who decides to follow your words and close his eyes as well. He wasn’t going to sleep, not when you were cuddled up to him so perfectly. He gently raked a hand through your soft hair absentmindedly.
♡*:. 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 Who maybe never felt love, but this was probably it. At least it was in his book.
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Do NOT post my works as your own.
I’m so sorry it’s short 😭
-XOXO Bau
154 notes · View notes
lovedazai · 6 months
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WHEN YOU CAN’T FALL ASLEEP
ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor
p.s.! ₊˚. for all my sleepy girls (gn) we’re in this together
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DAZAI ー dazai’s futon doesn’t allow you much space to move. you try to shift again, as delicately as you can with his body curled around yours. no matter how hard you tried to match your breathing to his, close your eyes, and relax, you just couldn’t seem to fall asleep tonight.
the last thing you want is to disturb him. dazai barely got enough rest, only sleeping through the night occasionally; he looks so pretty when he does, with his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, letting out soft, shallow breaths against your chest through his parted lips.
you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and dropping your head back onto your pillow, when you hear a familiar whine, and your stomach drops.
he lifts his head, mumbling your name. his eyes are lidded, cheeks warm and imprinted by the wrinkles from your shirt. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you try to urge his head back down, rubbing his scalp in the way you know he loves. “i’m okay. go back to sleep, ‘samu.”
you tilt your head to the side, looking down at him. he folds his arms against your chest, looking up at you from beneath his lashes.
“you’re not a good liar,” he smiles. it’s small and sleepy, and you wish you had enough energy to kiss it off his face.
“i can’t sleep,” you sigh. “but you should. it’s still early, i think.”
you try to peek at the time on your phone as he leans up on his elbows, turning your face towards his. he kisses your forehead, trailing down until his lips press against the space between your eyebrows, then down to the bridge of your nose.
“how am i supposed to kiss you awake if you don’t fall asleep first?” he whispers, tracing his thumb beneath your eye. you kiss the side of his wrist, leaning into his hand.
he pulls himself up until your positions are swapped, with his head on the pillow, and your head on his chest. he rests his cheek against your hair as he drags his fingertips down the back of your neck, rubbing little circles between your shoulder blades.
he hums softly, a song you can’t quite place. even barely murmuring, you can hear the sweetness in his voice, like he simply couldn’t hold in his adoration for you.
the calm beat of his heart and the soft vibrations from his chest soothe your mind. all your thoughts slip away, only a faraway whisper of sweet dreams, my love and the soft press of lips against your forehead before you fall asleep.
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CHUUYA ー you can hear chuuya’s quiet movements as he comes home from a late night mission, a mumbled curse slipping from his mouth when he’s a little too loud taking off his shoes. he cracks the bedroom door open, eyebrows raising when he sees you.
“you’re still awake?” he opens the door further. “you okay, baby?”
you nod into your comforter, watching blearily as he pulls his gloves off by each finger before he brushes your bangs away from your face.
“i’ll be right back,” he whispers, bending down to kiss your forehead. “don’t wait for me if you can help it, alright?”
you nod again, eyes falling shut as he kisses your forehead one more time. you hear the gentle thud of his dresser drawer closing, the sound of leather hitting the bathroom floor. you don’t know how much time has passed when you open your eyes again, looking up at him in a t-shirt and sweatpants.
“c’mon,” he squeezes your hand, sheets falling to your waist as he pulls you to sit up. “let’s go for a drive.”
the cool leather of chuuya’s car seat isn’t as comfortable as your bed, but you can already feel the heaviness in your chest start to dissipate as he drives.
you rest your head on the tinted window, looking out at the passing buildings. his hand rests against your thigh, and you lift it off, just enough for you to slide your fingers in between his own.
there aren’t many people out on the road this late, but he’s still careful, only sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. with the security and warmth that comes from chuuya’s presence next to you, and the gentle movement of the car, it doesn’t take long for your eyes to fall shut.
when he looks over and sees your face, completely relaxed, he exhales, sagging in relief against his headrest. he can’t get enough of you, bundled up in his passenger seat, holding his hand firmly, even in your sleep.
he’ll drive around a little longer, he decides, just to watch the way the lights wash over your pretty face, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones, the pretty pink of your lips.
at least it’d be no problem for him to carry you back to bed.
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RANPO ー every night, ranpo curls on top of you with the lingering scent of freshly baked pastries clinging to his skin, and his messy hair tickling your jaw from how he nuzzles his face against your neck.
his body is always a comforting weight, but sleep evades you tonight. you stare up at the ceiling, gently drawing little shapes through his shirt with your finger.
“i know you’re awake.”
you jump when he whispers in your ear, heart rate spiking painfully in your chest. he lifts his head up; his eyes are open, bright green and staring at you. the tips of your noses brush from how close he is.
“your thoughts woke me up,” he answers before you can ask, poking your forehead. “they’re too loud.”
“sorry,” you sigh, wincing when he flicks your forehead.
“why are you apologizing?” he whispers, tilting his chin up to kiss the spot he flicked. “go to sleep.”
“i can’t,” you whine, childishness rivaling his own.
“that’s ‘cause you’re not trying hard enough,” he mumbles, pout evident in his voice. “your eyes aren’t even closed.”
he traces his finger down the bridge of your nose, then up again. he grazes your hairline as he travels across your forehead next, and your eyes grow heavy with each movement, slowly falling shut.
“ranpoー”
“shhh,” he smooths his thumb along your eyebrow, making his way back down your nose. “go to sleep.”
he keeps tracing your features, even after your eyes are all the way closed and your face is completely relaxed beneath his hand. he brushes his fingers across your cupid’s bow, tracing down to the plush of your bottom lip.
“there,” he whispers, leaving butterfly kisses along your jaw as he nuzzles back into you. “that’s better.”
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FYODOR ー you’ve been teetering on the edge of sleep ever since you first laid down, hours ago. you’re sure it’s the early hours of the morning by now, and you sigh, stretching your arm to the other side of the bed. it’s cold, sheets still untouched.
it was rare fedya came to bed at night, no matter how much you wished he would. curling into his side always helped you rest easier. his presence is a calming one, maybe only to you.
you bundle up your blanket, holding it in place around your shoulders as you get out of bed. the ends trail along the hallway floor like a cloak as you tiptoe to his office. the steady sound of him typing comes to a stop as soon as you open the door, and he turns around in his chair, just enough to look at you.
“what are you doing up at this hour?” his eyebrows furrow, like the hypocrite he is.
“i don’t know,” you mumble around a yawn. “i just missed you.”
he swivels completely to face you, opening his arms. he makes no complaints about accommodating you as you sit on his lap, curling yourself around him, cheek falling to rest against his shoulder. you shift to look at his screens, monitor light seeming so much brighter to your tired eyes in the darkness of his office.
“don’t look at those,” he tilts your head further into his shoulder. “you’ll only keep yourself awake longer.”
you press your face into his neck, seeking out the soothing chill of his skin. you arch further into him when his fingertips sneak beneath your shirt, rubbing along the knobs of your spine. his typing is rhythmic, fingers gently pressing into your skin each time he pauses to think as you feel the rise and fall of his chest against your body.
he feels your breaths, deep and even against his shoulder, and spares a glance at you: asleep. he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, lips curling up as you try to snuggle impossibly closer to him.
“rest well, my dear,” he pulls the edge of the blanket tighter around you. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”
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BSD MASTERLIST
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fyorina · 3 months
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ᡣ𐭩 TELLING THEM THEY'RE PRETTY!
FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol
SUMMARY: telling the bsd boys that they're pretty! (wordcount: 3.5k; sfw; fem!reader)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: i had cute dividers but this won't show up in the tags if use them D: ! i had sooo much fun with this! i hope you guys enjoy! :D
DAZAI OSAMU
You can’t seem to drag your gaze away from him. 
As a long day of work comes to an end, you rest your head on your arms and lean on your desk. Kunikida is still tapping furiously away at his computer, Tanizaki and Naomi are whispering about something together, Ranpo is sorting through his candy, and Atsushi and Kyouka are looking through files. But your eyes are tracing over Dazai Osamu as he leans back in his chair, lazily spinning and bobbing his head to the music he’s listening to. 
The setting sun casts an ethereal glow over him, his lips idly turned up and his lashes brushing his cheeks as rests his eyes waiting for the day to end. Dazai Osamu is pretty—you’ve always acknowledged that—but there’s something about the peace of this moment, the domesticity of the office and the ambience of the lighting that has you utterly enraptured.
He looks so at ease, and Dazai Osamu is never at ease. Even when he throws up that clownlike mask of his and spends his day entertaining under the guise of joy and humor, you can always see the strain in the corner of his eyes and lips. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible really—if you were anyone else, you’d miss it, but you’re not anyone else, much to his displeasure, because you know he hates how easily you can see right through him.
After a few minutes, Dazai peeks his eyes open—and you’re almost breathless, because his eyes are like melted honey beneath the sunset, warm and gentle, glittering with amusement. You think you can stare at him forever and never tire of it.
He rolls his chair closer to you, resting his forearms on your desk so that your arms are brushing and laying his head down on them so that his face is mere inches from yours, matching your position. There's a smile on his lips, soft and teasing as he whispers, "You've been staring at me for five minutes."
"Mhm," you agree, voice just as quiet as if to not disturb the tranquility of the office. You can feel his breath light against your face from the proximity he's laying at and you can smell peppermint on his breath from the candy you’d seen him swipe from Ranpo’s desk earlier when the other man had gone to speak to Fukuzawa.
“Is there something on my face?” he asks playfully, dark eyes glimmering as he waits for your response.
You can tease him back and say yes, as you usually do and is probably what he expects—and you fully intend to do just that but the words that leave your lips are not that. 
“You just look really pretty today,” you say softly, watching as his eyes widen just a bit at your words, pink dusting his cheeks. 
His lips part to say something but no words leave them. He opens and closes them a few times and you marvel because Dazai must know that he’s pretty from all of the attention he gets from women, so you don’t understand why he’s so thrown off hearing you voice it out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him genuinely speechless before now.
“So you don’t think i’m pretty every other day?” Dazai pushes his bottom lip out into an over-exaggerated pout, recovering swiftly from your words, though you expected nothing less from him. But you can’t help but note that his cheeks are still a bit pink and there’s something indecipherable in his eyes.
“Prettier than usual,” you amend and watch as the flush on his cheeks darkens and he instead resorts to completely burying his face in his arms with a frustrated groan.
“I am supposed to be the flirt, bella,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms as he hides his face from your view. He cannot hide the way his ears have gone bright red, and you have half a mind to reach out and tug at them
You lift your hand to your lips to hide the giggle that rises to your lips, scooching your chair a bit closer so you can knock your shoulder against his. 
“I’m not flirting,” you say. “Just stating a fact.”
He turns his head to the side, just enough so that he can give you a heavy side eye—you can only barely see the red hue coating his cheekbone. 
“Not mutually exclusive,” he says grumpily, and you lean down to press your lips against his now exposed forehead, smiling softly as his eyes instinctively flutter shut and his body relaxes as the touch.
Then, you receive a pencil to the side of your head. You yelp as your hand flies to where it had made contact with you, scowling at your assailant who is none other than Ranpo, smiling widely as he waves at you and then motions to Kunikida, who is red faced and staring at the two of you. You can’t tell if it’s in embarrassment or anger.
“Not during work hours,” he snaps, and you realize that he’s definitely embarrassed, so you share a short look with Dazai, who has regained that mischievous look in his eyes as he glances over at Kunikida and back at you.
Without saying a word, or giving any other sort of warning, he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s a short and chaste kiss, but his lips are soft and taste of candy, and you think you might be able to kiss them forever if you get the chance.
Now you’re the one flustered, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at Dazai, who is evidently thoroughly pleased to not be the one uncomposed if the unscrupulous grin on his lips has anything to say about it.
He tosses you a wink before rolling his chair back over to his desk, animatedly complaining about Ranpo and Kunikida being lonely and bitter and getting in the way of Dazai’s chance at true love because of it—you only roll your eyes at his dramatics, as you usually do when Dazai goes off on tangents, but it’s with much more fondness this time. 
•••
FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY
You are not listening to a single word that he’s saying. 
It’s a dangerous situation to be in with Fyodor Dostoevsky, you’re sure he’s noticed by now and he will be petty enough to finish his brief about his plans and your involvement and then ask you to repeat what he said, but you just can’t focus. 
He tied his hair back, you note, still quite a bit awed by the sight. There are two locks framing his face and his bangs are falling between his eyes, but the rest of his hair, which has grown a bit long in the weeks that he’s been ardently preparing for the final stages of his plan, is pulled back into a lax bun. 
He looks so casual, and Fyodor Dostoevsky never looks casual. He’s dressed in a turtleneck and loose pants as he leans back in his chair. There’s a folder resting on his lap that he’s idly flipping through and he keeps glancing up at you occasionally, pale lips flat and violet eyes disapproving, but you just nod along to his words even though you know that he knows that you’re not paying attention. 
And you think, distantly, that you probably should be paying attention because he’s talking about your upcoming mission and what you should expect from it but you figure you’ll be fine—it’s a simple infiltration mission, nothing to worry about. And you’d much rather prefer to appreciate Fyodor’s rare repose than to listen him droll on about boring topics. 
Sometimes, you think if he just kept his mouth shut all the time, he’d be perfect. But you think you’d miss his sharp-witted comments and the lengthy debates the two of you have after a few glasses of wine.
He looks extra pretty tonight, even beyond the casual hairstyle and clothes and his uncharacteristically relaxed demeanor, and you think it’s because of the way the flames of the fireplace are casting an enchanting orange and red glow over his face. It makes the violets of his eyes burn alive in a way that they usually don’t, you’re far too used to the glacial visage they take whenever he puts his attention on someone. Every time he glances up at you, you swear that you can get lost in them.
“… And you are not listening to a word that I am saying, are you?” 
Fyodor is giving you the heaviest side eye as he finally calls you out, expression unamused. His brows are furrowed and his pale skin is taut with thinly veiled irritation.
“Of course, I am,” you dismiss, waving your hand. “Infiltration mission, detective agency, get close to the tiger boy.”
Fyodor looks distinctly unimpressed by your words, brows deepening—you figure you must have spoken wrongly, you probably shouldn’t have been so indifferent, and you bite back a sigh before reaching forward to press two fingers between Fyodor’s eyebrows, as if to forcibly smooth away his annoyance.
He blinks and draws back, out of reach of your arm, and then casts you an even more irritable look.
“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accuses. “This mission will be dangerous, you’ll be at risk of being exposed every moment you are in the agency and if you are exposed-“
“Your plans will be ruined,” you finish, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes. “I kno-“
“You could be killed,” Fyodor corrected, voice cold and sharp, and you look back over to him. He looks unusually intense, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the appearance that the flames of the fireplace are giving him as they flicker dangerously across his face or if it’s because he’s that displeased with you being distracted. Either way, you find your mind drifting again because wow. “Dazai Osamu is not a man to be taken lightly. When he manages to figure out who you are and what you’re doing, we will need an immediate extraction plan.”
“Careful, Fyodor,” you drawl, watching as his violet eyes narrow briefly, “almost sounds like you care.”
Fyodor’s lips twist but he doesn’t respond. You raise your eyebrows, he looks away. Your eyes shoot open.
“You have a bigger role to play,” Fyodor finally says, but he’s no longer looking at you. “You cannot be killed yet.”
“Yet,” you repeat, amused. Fyodor’s jaw tightens, he doesn’t look at you, his eyes are trained on the fireplace to the side of the two of you and you can vaguely see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning ardently against the familiar violet.
You lean forward again, shifting off of the couch to sit on the coffee table between the two of you so you can reach him. You reach forward to brush your knuckles against his cheek—he doesn’t move away this time, but his eyes cut to the side to watch you carefully.
You don’t say anything for a moment, absently tucking one of the locks of hair framing his face behind his ear. His hair is soft, freshly washed—for once—it smells faintly of lavender and vanilla and you wonder if he stole your conditioner.
“You look very pretty tonight, Fyodor,” you say quietly, and then smile. “It’s hard to focus when you look like this.”
The expression Fyodor directs toward you is extraordinarily blank, except for the faintest specks of pink that glare compared to the pallor of his face. 
He shakes his head, looking away from you yet again. 
“… You cause me much suffering,” he murmurs, and somehow, you know that might be the closest you might get to an admission of love from Fyodor Dostoevsky.
You smile to yourself. “And you to I,” you say, voice a bit teasing, and then you add, “Now, can you tell me again what to look out for?”
The moment is ruined. Fyodor’s eye twitches and he’s giving you that unamused look again, and you think having him repeat himself might be a mistake because now you’re even more distracted, but Fyodor sighs and starts on his lecture again so you force yourself to listen.
It takes about three minutes for him to release a sigh of utter suffering when he realizes that your eyes have glazed over yet again. 
•••
NIKOLAI GOGOL
Nikolai has a wild sort of beauty about him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous, and it’s widely apparent in his frenzied laughter and chaotic behavior. His eye glitters and his teeth gleam sharply beneath the glow of the moonlight as he waves his hands around, animatedly describing to you all of the details of the things he’s been doing while you were away. 
Fyodor’s masterplan has involved Nikolai apparently taken upon an infiltration role at the ministry of defense—you think it’s a bold move for Fyodor to use Nikolai for such a tenuous mission, but he’s apparently been having the time of his life with it. Though he thinks his boss is deplorable and one of his coworkers has evidently pissed him off beyond repair, because now he’s telling you about how he’s been ‘pranking’ the man in righteous vengeance. 
You think Nikolai’s idea of pranking varies from yours, because you’re pretty sure him using his ability to break into the man’s house constitutes a crime not a prank. But you don’t have it in you to make that distinction when he’s so excitedly telling you about how every day he’s been going into his house to move around all of his stuff and hide some of his belongings to make the man squirm. He’s succeeding outstandingly in his ambition, if the videos he’s waving in front of you have anything to say about it. 
You watch as he frantically scrolls to the next video—“this one is the best,” he claims, as he has for every video thus far. You watch with an amused smile as his dark-haired coworker steps into his apartment and nearly starts crying when he realizes that all of his stuff has been moved again, scrambling for his phone to call the police, who have—according to Nikolai—apparently already told him multiple times that there’s nothing they can do about it. The video is shaking wildly, as if the person filming can barely hold the camera straight, and you’re convinced that’s exactly what it is because you can hear Nikolai’s muffled laughter coming from recording.
Nikolai naturally finds it much funnier than you do, half-way keeling over as he wheezes, his laughter shattering the peaceful night. The two of you are sitting at a park near the apartment that Fyodor had leased for you for the duration of the Yokohama operation. The moon is high in the sky, casting a bewitching glow over the lake in front of you and there’s a chill in the air—it’s a nice night all around, you think there will probably some frost dusting the grass in the morning but the cold hardly bothers you now with Nikolai pressed to your side as he laughs himself into a near-coughing fit over his harassment of his coworker. 
“Why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai suddenly complains loudly, scowling at you, but even then he keeps having to bite back residual laughter whenever he glances back down at his phone. “It’s funny.”
“It is funny,” you agree. Nikolai gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you. “It is.”
“Then why aren’t you laughing?” Nikolai accuses doubtfully, and then adds, even more accusatory, “You hate me.”
You’re not sure why you aren’t laughing, honestly. Usually you’d be burying your face into his shoulder trying to smother your snickers, because even though you might not entirely agree with Nikolai’s idea of a prank, you can still find some humor in it. Because it is kind of funny. Kind of. 
But then you realize that you’re probably not laughing because you’ve been spending most of the night admiring Nikolai rather than listening to him prattle on about his escapades and watching his poorly recorded videos, so you can’t fully appreciate the humor in the videos. With his cheeks flushed from copious amounts of laughter and his eyes glowing with excitement, you think he’s very pretty tonight—Nikolai is always pretty, but the angle at which he’s sitting leaves the moon haloing behind his head, and maybe it’s just because you’ve missed him the past few weeks when you’ve been abroad dealing with a territory dispute with Tolstoy, but you think there’s something special about tonight. 
“I don’t hate you. I guess I’ve been too busy admiring you,” you finally say, a playful smile on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “You look pretty tonight.”
Nikolai blinks, eyes wide and owlish as he processes your words. The longer he goes unresponsive, you acknowledge that a quiet Nikolai is far more unnerving than a loud and erratic Nikolai, you’d expected a more… theatrical response to your comment. A swish of his cape, him leaping to his feet with a twirl and an agreement, even just a wild laugh; instead, he looks away abruptly. He doesn’t even just look away, he physically turns his whole body away from you. 
You blink.
“Nikolai?” you ask, a bit astonished when he literally ignores you. You lean forward, trying to get a look at his face, but then he swivels around even more and your lips part in shock. “Nikolai.”
You’re only met with a face full of his soft white hair, impeccably braided, as per usual—you have half a mind to tug at it hard to try to get a response from him, but you aren’t in the mood for the lewd comment that would likely spill from his lips after. 
“Koly-“
“Poor me, poor me,” Nikolai suddenly cries loudly, “The little koshenya mocks me when all I do is try to make her laugh. Poor me, poor me.”
His hand flies to his face, melodramatic as he bemoans your alleged cruelty. You stare at him, mind trying to piece together what exactly is happening—Nikolai is always hard to predict, but you feel like this is a bit strange even for him, and that’s saying something. 
“… What?” you start to ask but Nikolai has thrown himself into a loud and theatrical tirade about how he doesn’t deserve such injustice and how he was only trying to make you laugh, and how it’s so, so cold-hearted of you to taunt him when this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in weeks. 
Nikolai is impossible to bargain with when he gets like this, so you only sigh and tilt your head up to the sky, his words flying in one ear and out the other as you wait for him to settle down on his own. 
Instead, you swear the world is against you because rather than settling down, he becomes increasingly more noisy and distressed, and his accusations become even more asinine. Now, he’s saying that you’ve always had it out for him and how you weren’t laughing at his jokes because you hate him and want to report him to the police and how he should tell Dostoy about your betrayal, or better yet, he should stuff you in his cloak and leave you there?
You side-eye Nikolai heavily as he continues on, slightly alarmed, but brush off the casual threat as just Nikolai being Nikolai. You don’t know how to shut him up, you think you might be out here all night listening to him, and now you’re the one bemoaning your fate because how did a simple compliment turn into this. 
Finally, an idea strikes. 
You brace yourself, questioning your sanity and your entire existence before you interrupt him with a loud, “Quiz time!”
Nikolai goes silent instantly, head snapping toward you, eye even wider than before. 
You think you’ve hit an all time low as you say, “Was I trying to mock you before?” Nikolai opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can. “What’s that you say? I wasn’t? Ding ding! We’ve gotta winner!” 
You think Nikolai might be having an internal crisis. He’s staring at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life—his lips are parted, his eye void of the usual mischief dancing in it. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t know what. 
You let out a long breath as you go to speak up again, but before you can, his eye is glittering again, sharp and dangerous, and his lips are curving up into a slow smile. 
Nikolai inhales and then he takes a complete one-eighty as he bursts into loud cackles and says, “Ahahaha! I knew you loved me!” as if he wasn’t just lamenting your irrational hatred for him moments before.
Your eye twitches. He begins a second tirade, this one far more embarrassing for you than the last. 
You regret everything.
2K notes · View notes
4ngel-inc · 1 month
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࿔*:・ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ࿐
tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], fem reader, a little angsty but all with happy endings, fluff but suggestive & some dirty talk !! ᰔ
𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 feels a knife in his chest when he sees you hugging someone else—he knows the two of you have only been dating a short time, but in his mind, you're the one. he wants you forever, but now you've gone and fallen for someone else. he immediately contemplates killing the other person, but he decides against it—that was his past self, he's changed now. it takes a lot for him to be completely vulnerable around you at first, so it's difficult expressing that he's jealous. "bella, are you still happy with me?" he hates the slight quiver in his voice, but he needs to know. "huh? 'f course i am, osamu, why'd you ask me that?" you pull him in for a soft kiss, just lips touching gently, before pulling away, "something bothering you?" before he can even bring up the other guy, he realizes how silly he's been, shaking himself out of his own self-loathing—"ah, nothing, just wanted to make sure. wanna go out for a coffee or something? you look so pretty today, i'm sure i'm not the only one who noticed. i want to show you off, angel." you roll your eyes, so that's it. "you think someone else thinks i'm pretty?" there's a long pause, but you know what he's thinking, "babe, he's just a friend. you're my everything, y'know that, right?" he sighs, pulling you into his lap, "you figured me out, huh? i can never hide around you, why is that?" he seems to be asking himself rather than you, but you answer anyways, "because i love you, and you love me—our hearts are tied together, i always know what you're thinking, like now," you reach down to stroke him through his pants, pleased to find him already hard, "why don't i remind you how much i love you, huh?"
𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 tries to look away when he sees you talking to another guy at a party the mafia is having, disgusted by the way the man smiles at you so slyly, clearly interested in you—but you've always been so adorably oblivious to how other people look at you with such admiration and lust, completely unaware of your own beauty. he's used to others flirting with you, but what is surprising is that you seem to be quite interested in the conversation, despite the way the man is slowly moving closer to you with each passing second. are you into him? no, you couldn't be—chuuya is your everything, you've told him as much many times, and though he's never been one to surrender to insecurity, after working for the mafia for so many years, he doesn't really trust anyone except you. it isn't long before he's approaching you, and though he wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in, he hesitates. "everything alright?" "oh, chuuya! yes, everything's great. [name] here was just telling me about his most recent mission, it's quite fascinating." when he gets a bit closer, chuuya realizes he recognizes the man, and gently tugs on your arm, "come on, love, let's go." you're a little surprised but follow him anyways, waving goodbye to your new acquaintance. "chuuya? what's wrong?" your heels click on the floor quickly before chuuya presses your back into a hidden corner of the room, kissing you deeply and passionately. you're breathless when he pulls away, "that guy's a scumbag, you deserve better." you're utterly confused at his words—you've always been chuuya's—but your thoughts escape you when his lips are on yours again, and you choose not to question it, gently tugging at his belt before suggesting the two of you retire to your room for the evening. "i'm not sure what's bothering you, but i'll fix it, babe."
𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 hates himself for it, but he's a little jealous when you rave about your new favorite anime character. he's your background on your phone and the inspiration for a few plushies on your bed, and though he doesn't feel threatened, he wishes your attention was on him instead. the last thing he wants is to be controlling—it just isn't in his nature—he loves that you have hobbies you enjoy so much! but you've been distracted lately, and he's been missing your sweet kisses and cuddles. he never thought he'd find himself growing so soft, he has such a weakness for you that makes him nervous, but he's been so busy and stressed about work lately—your pretty eyes locked with his as you snuggle up against him, looking up at him and running your hand through his hair with all the love in the world in your eyes, would be a salve to all of his worries. it isn't really a decision when he brings it up, it just comes out one day, "would you be open to me watching this show with you? i'd like to be a part of this new interest of yours, since it makes you. . . so happy." you easily detect the discouraged tone in his voice, and click the tv off. "c'mere, ryu, what's wrong?" "nothing," he states matter-of-factly, but you understand the implication behind his tone—he's been lonely. "why don't we spend the day together?" you run your fingers through his hair, "your hair's a little messy, want me to cut it for you? i'll make you dinner, too, what are you in the mood for?" his heart swells at your offer, "i'd really enjoy that, i've missed you lately. i've been working too much, but i'm glad you've been keeping busy."
𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 always thought you were his—from the moment you told him you'd be his girlfriend, you were his greatest treasure, he told himself he'd never do anything to lose you. but when he sees you laughing and twirling your hair with a new guy, he can only assume that's the case. he must have done something wrong—worked too much, didn't tell you you're pretty enough, something. it seems like you're having fun with this new person—sigma tells himself he never made you smile that way, doesn't make you laugh as hard, and he's ashamed of that. when you two crawl into bed later that night, you notice sigma doesn't seem as cuddly or affectionate as usual. "baby? something wrong?" he frowns, but shakes his head 'no' anyways. "i'm fine, just tired." you aren't buying it, and when he wraps the blanket around himself, his body laid on the edge of the bed, as far away from you as possible, you need to know—he's your sweetest love, you can't bear the thought of him suffering. you sit up and flick on the light, "baby, please talk to me. did i do something?" he sighs, but eventually decides to open up to you, and you're happy to tell him your "new guy" is only a friend—sigma is the one you really want, and truthfully, he's a little embarrassed he thought otherwise. "i'm sorry, love, i guess i'm just insecure." you brush your fingers over his cheek, "you're not insecure, sweetie, you just love me—and i love you, just as much. i'm never letting you go, you're everything i've ever wanted." he smiles and finally snuggles into you, "thank you for loving me, i don't deserve you."
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osachiyo · 3 months
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𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dazai, chuuya, Fyodor, nikolai, oda
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˚➶ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — fem!reader, sfw content, so much fluff, children, nikolai is actually a good father in this i swear, swearing in chuuya's, best viewed in dark mode
˚➶ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — wdym do i have baby fever why would u even ask that? also im begging for some fluffy asks </3 not proofread
𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 . . . just some cute little scenarios with daddy!bsd men <3
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dazai stared at his 2 month old baby girl sleeping in her crib, drooling on the little pink teddy bear you two had bought for her. it was almost 3 am — the time she'd wake up every single night and start crying for milk, effectively ruining both of your sleep. he knew you were tired, you needed rest — but you couldn't just leave your baby crying all night. that's exactly why he offered to do it for you, waking up exactly at 2:30 am, just to watch his baby sleep — waiting patiently for her to stir awake all while admiring his baby's cuteness.
she's got your nose — he thought while smiling fondly, tracing a slim finger over her chubby little cheeks before gently poking her nose, making a little 'boop!' noise while doing so. she stirred a little from the contact, her face scrunched up all cutely as she slowly woke from her slumber. "morning, sweet girl," dazai whispered, gently picking her up from the crib and cradling her — shushing her little cries. at least she isn't going full crier mode — he thought to himself, relieved that he managed to calm her down.
"let's not wake up your mommy, okay hun?" he muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head — a chuckle leaving his lips as he watched her make grabby little hands to the formula filled baby bottle in his hand.
"oh you want this?" he dangled the bottle in front of her eager face — her eyes lighting up as she babbled random words to her daddy, translating to "yes please!"
"sure, baby — buuuut! — you have to give daddy a kiss first," he grinned, moving his awful bed-head out of his face and revealing his cheek to her, ready for a kiss from his tiny princess. and as if she could actually understand him, she placed a kiss on his cheek, though it was mostly her trying to eat his cheek instead, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? at least that's what her father thought.
you slept like a baby that night — but you did find dazai in the baby room in the morning, sound asleep on the carpeted floor with his little bundle of joy in his arms
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chuuya knew you needed a break from your mommy duties — like everyone does once in a while. so like the wonderful and caring husband he was, he bought you a ticket to bali — insisting that he would be fine. after all, how hard could taking care of a toddler be?
"fuckin' hell.." chuuya grumbled, gloved fingers through his ginger locks as he clicked his tongue. he was going through some very annoying paperwork that his subordinates apparently couldn't do right — which was so damn frustrating. and he had to keep an eye on his sweet 3 year old daughter, who was playing on the floor, mumbling a random children's song while doing so. chuuya didn't know how in the actual hell you managed to multitask like this — doing all the housework while taking care of the kid? it genuinely impressed him.
"—ak!" his train of throught suddenly got cut off, as he heard his daughter. he looked over at the small child, who was happily waving her doll around. "did you say something, honey?" he questioned, walking over to kneel beside her as he eyed the heap of toys — mayybe you were right, he thought, he did buy her too many toys.
the toddler looked at her daddy, the beaming smile on her chubby face made him want to just scoop her up in his arms and stay like that for hours.
"fak!" she squealed, slamming the poor doll on the floor — as if it were the most exciting word she'd ever heard. chuuya's face went pale — sweat already beading at his temples as he imagined your reaction to your daughter saying the forbidden word.
"nonono don't say that — that's a bad word, sweetheart," chuuya scooped her up before placing her on his lap, as she tilted her head, staring at him in confusion, "..fak?"
"shit — you've got to be kiddin' me.."
"shit?"
"NO — oh god damn it!"
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"yes, good girl — put it right there," fyodor pointed at the chess board. the toddler only stared at him in confusion, looking at the chess piece in her stubby hand before looking back at her father. "come on, you can do it," your husband encouraged, never getting impatient.
"i don't think it's possible for a 4 year old to play chess, fedya dear.." you let out a chuckle, taking in the amusing sight of your husband teaching his precious daughter how to play chess. "anything is possible, my love," fyodor replied, trying to stop his daughter from putting the chess piece in her mouth. "riiight... her trying to eat the pieces definitely doesn't help your case, darling," you laughed, rolling your eyes at how silly your beloved could be at times, no matter how many people see him as a genius.
"she's learning," he retaliated, taking the piece away from her before dangling her favourite candy in front of her cute little face — "if you can put this right here, i'll give you the candy, okay? easy enough, right?"
the toddler only pouted, bottom lip jutting out as she whined — "but daddy, you can do it yourself!" fyodor sighed, apparently, she was having trouble understanding why she should do it when he could easily do it himself.
“darling, that’s not the point — the point is that i’m trying to play a game with you and it’s your turn.” the young girl’s frown only deepened, face scrunching up in frustration while she sulked in her seat.
“i think she deserves the candy, don't you, hun?” you smiled, turning over to your daughter — who only nodded in return. “she’ll get her candy after she puts the piece in the correct spot.” your husband clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval at you giving in so easily. “she’s just a child, honey..” you sighed, cheek resting on your palm.
fyodor was about to give another witty reply when you both heard a small sniffle — both of you looking over to the little girl; her lips were wobbling, tears running down her soft cheeks. “oh no no, sweetheart — c’mere,” it’s like he did a total 180, previously annoyed features now softened and evident guilt painting his face. your daughter only seemed to cry harder at that, snot running down her nose as she ran to fyodor, burying her face in his chest. “there, there..” he sighed, frowning at the way her body shook with each hiccup. “told you,” you grumbled, stifling a laugh at seeing fyodor panicking and handing her a good amount of the sweet treats — only for her to stop crying the moment she got what she wanted, a mischievously cute grin gracing her face. like father like daughter — you suppose.
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"daddyyyy! — stay still!" the little girl whined, eyebrows furrowing as she combed through nikolai's snowy hair. "you've been brushing my hair for 30 minutes now, princesssss!" he whined back, matching her childish tone. "it needs to be perfect," his precious daughter sighed out loud, acting as if she was stressed — perhaps she learnt that from you, he snickered at the thought.
"alright, alright.." he sighed, straightening his posture — smiling as he felt tiny hands comb through his white locks. at least she's gentle with it — he practically shuddered at the thought of his precious hair being yanked and pulled by a toddler.
"daddy, you need to close your eyes," she huffed, running over to grab her little box of accessories and clips, before returning back to her dad. "whatever the princess wants, i suppose.." he chuckled, closing his eyes — feeling her decorating his hair with whichever accessory she desired. he could never really say no to her.
after a few more moments of waiting, she was finally done — excitedly telling nikolai to open his eyes. "tadaaaa!" she giggled, throwing her arms up in the air as he opened his eyes, a cheshire smile immediately gracing his lips as he stared at his reflection — hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, as various colours of heart shaped clips decorated his head. "you did such a good job, dove!" he grinned, scooping her tiny frame up in his huge arms, as she squealed. he threw her up into the air — making her squeal even louder before easily catching her, both of them howling with laughter.
moments like this makes him glad he didn't leave to get the milk.
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"how does your mom even do this every morning.." oda sighed, trying his best to figure out how in the actual hell to do his daughter's hair. and the worst part? he only had 10 minutes until the school bus arrived. hell, he already spent the last 20 minutes brushing and detangling her hair!
"daddy, there's not much time left!" the 7 year old complained — watching her dad struggle with her hair through the mirror. he was debating on whether to call you for help, which he quickly decided against. she's on vacation, she should enjoy it thoroughly without any worry — he thought to himself, clicking his tongue as he messed up what was supposed to be a simple pigtail once again.
"daddy.. there's only two minutes left!" the girl whined once again, kicking her legs as she grew more and more impatient — while her hair situation grew worse and worse. "um, alright sweetheart — how about you just go to school with your hair down?" oda sweat dropped, trying to convince his daughter to the best of his ability.
"you know i can't do thaatt!" she groaned, giving him a pout. "right — well how about —"
the honking of the bus outside cut him off, as the little girl only sighed.
he somehow convinced your daughter to not snitch to you about her going to school with very crooked pigtails. buuut, he did take some hair lessons from you after you came back.
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©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia
@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch
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riiwrites · 4 months
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boyfriend!dazai who…
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a/n : for my love @perfectlyjollyland who requested this ages ago but i didn’t see until recently because i only pay attention to my inbox! im so sorry ill be checking comments too next time, hope you’re well! <3
a/n : also i hope you’re okay with the pre-boyfriend/before boyfriend part, i just thought that’d be cute i love lovesick!dazai sooo much.. more boyfriend dazai under the cut!!
chuuyas version | atsushis version
dividers used belong to @/benkeibear
masterlist | taglist | main page
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pre-boyfriend!dazai who at the start asks you for a double suicide (as per usual), but when you give him the cutest smile and giggle and say no, he knows he’s too deep in now.
pre-boyfriend!dazai who becomes head over heels when he first meets you and now has a new mission, making you reciprocate those feelings.
pre-boyfriend!dazai who loves the cliches, the random ‘anonymous’ love notes on your desk when you’re at work or the random flowers delivered to your workplace/home - he loves it all.
pre-boyfriend!dazai who respects your boundaries if you were to tell him to lay off or if he was making you uncomfortable.
pre-boyfriend!dazai who finally gives up..gives up throwing hints and just decides to take his shot.
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“So..say, if a handsome stranger who’s kind of not a stranger since you know him as an acquaintance asks you out because he’s given up with all of the deadpanned hints he’s been giving you for the past few months but he’s kind of scared of being rejected..what would you say?”
You stare him with a few blinks as he looks at you with a great smile on his face, although you can see subtle drops of sweat dripping down the side of his temple.
"..Is this said handsome stranger you, perchance?”
Dazai let’s out a single laugh, placing his hands on his hips.
“Ha! How bold of you, though..I am charmed your first thought of this handsome stranger would be me, bella~” He coyly smirks, closing his eyes in what you can’t tell is either pride or suspense.
You furrow your eyebrows with a little smile, fixing up your paperwork as you place them on the desk. “No, I just figured since it was you who’s been leaving such persistent and eager notes on my desk as of late.”
You watch his expression slightly change as he lets out a cough of embarrassment, locking eyes with you now.
“Well..” He starts, then gives up halfway through.
“..Is it a yes?”
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pre-boyfriend!dazai who not only is taken by surprise by your response, but his heart does a few jumps in joy as his efforts became a success, making him now your boyfriend.
boyfriend!dazai who has his hand down your back pocket whenever you two are walking together.
boyfriend!dazai who’s love language is both physical touch and acts of service, always having his hands on you in the littlest way and also providing the most he can to his s/o.
boyfriend!dazai who has the reputation of being quite the flirtatious one, gives it up to his precious s/o.
boyfriend!dazai who googles cheesy and dirty pickup lines to try and rizz you with, always ending them in a winky face.
boyfriend!dazai who sends you little messages every day now that he has your number, little words of affirmations and talks to get you ready for your days.
boyfriend!dazai who if he had a tiktok account he’d make slideshows of you two and repost videos of couples relating to you two.
boyfriend!dazai who you spend all of your holidays with, especially christmas and new years.
boyfriend!dazai who practically lives at your house now, but nobody’s complaining.
boyfriend!dazai who has a box of every little thing you’ve given him, so when he’s feeling down he can look at it and smile.
boyfriend!dazai who tries to keep you away from his past, to protect you from the ugly truth.
boyfriend!dazai who opens up about oda, not all of it but most of it since he believes oda would’ve liked you.
boyfriend!dazai who takes you to the places he has the fondest memories in. the lupin bar, the art gallery, the agency.
boyfriend!dazai who appreciates the little things, as he’s not someone who can afford much he tries to give you the best he can.
boyfriend!dazai who always argues that he loves you more trying to get the last word and when you think you have it, you hear a little mumble of “I love you more” as you walk away.
boyfriend!dazai who loves your hands, tracing the lines of your palm and fingers and creating little shapes on them makes him feel at peace.
boyfriend!dazai who can be possessive but in a good way, he has good reasons to be possessive.
boyfriend!dazai who when he sees someone give you a half lidded smirk or bedroom eyes, he gives them a deadly stare that could imprint on their skull as he wraps an arm around your waist.
boyfriend!dazai who constantly babbles on about you at work with the agency, always telling Atsushi about the cutest things that you did the night before or what you did the day before that.
“Ahh..and the way they just clench their fists at their sides when they are angry with me! Ah~ I could melt..”
“That’s..really nice, Dazai-san..”
“Oh! And the way they grab my hand so tightly when we’re in public ahhh~ I could melt!”
“D-dazai-san..-“
“Ahhh, and the way the-“
boyfriend!dazai who ends up with about 14 wounds all over his body because of kunikidas beatings..kunikida says he’s lucky it wasn’t 15.
boyfriend!dazai who you take care of at his lowest.
boyfriend!dazai who sometimes can’t understand why you put up with him, but you reassure him with words and kisses all over his face.
boyfriend!dazai who peppers your face with kisses back and gives you a small smile despite how sad he can feel.
boyfriend!dazai who watches the fireworks with you and doesn’t think of going out just as beautifully because why would he let such a precious thing slip out of his hands like that?
boyfriend!dazai who doesn’t care about himself or his mental health, but cares the most about yours.
boyfriend!dazai who once felt like he was drowning, but then found his light to the surface who has a smile of diamonds and a heart of gold.
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TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @mackereland-slug @heartsfourdazai @iratherowan @onlinewhisper14 @nomnomventi
white = unable to be tagged :(
@/riiwrites - reblogs are highly appreciated ❤︎︎
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chiliyue-archived · 8 months
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physical affection
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includes; dazai, chūya, ranpo, atsushi
tags; these get just slightly suggestive (but its nothing too much).headcanons + some drabbles & shorts. these r longer than it should be - I got so carried away
I just woke up so if u find mistakes pls let me know :) I'm posting this before I come up with an excuse to delete it altogether
-
—DAZAI
handsy - that's really the only descriptor you need.
honestly, everyone knows you're his partner with how he acts around you; hand on your thigh, waist, shoulder. having to kindly smack him on the back of his head when his hands trailed a little too far-
^ only for him to send you a pout and doe like eyes that fade when you indulge him a kiss. he has zero shame (often at the expense of receiving a sneer from kunikida who had the misfortune of witnessing sometimes. even then, he didn't stop kissing you)
favorite spot is the inside of your palms and knuckles - with a lingering yield on your pulse point. if you ever kiss those areas on him, he'll have cartoon hearts around him & everything
holding his face though? call him your pretty boy or literally anything sappy and he thinks he might just die on the spot.
on the flip side he's also… a bit of a bitch.
traces your bottom lip tauntingly with his thumb, the other is cupping your head to keep your gaze on him. he maintains keen eye contact and relishes in the way you crack while he remains steady.
his mouth is so close that when he speaks, you could feel it vibrate against your lips. but he never closes the distance, he makes you do that instead for teasing benefits :/(if you're shorter than him, it's so over)
revoke his kissing rights and he trails like a lost puppy behind you. " just one, bella?" he whines when you maneuver your head away. it's cute seeing him get all pouty - not so much when his patience runs thin and he takes matters into his own hands
-> caging you in his physique and kissing you hard. fingers calloused are rubbing against your jaw or brushing past your ear to interlock, teasing the surface of the skin as he does so. he enjoys the tremors and shivers it elicits, such reactions becoming burned in the back of his head.
you could barely make a sound with the vigor he expresses his cravings in with your bottom lip becoming captured between his canines
contrary to his theatrical displays, however, i also believe he exhibits a softened demeanor when cherishing you proper (soft dazai agenda)
the tempo of his kisses are slow yet not in accordance with his teasing. while the meandering of his hands grows greedy, when he speaks his voice is reduced to a low whisper, mumbling sweet phrases with each kiss.
dazai wants to blame the bottom of sake for his vermillion flushed cheeks. more alarmingly, he wanted to ignore the way his heart squeezed when you reciprocated the kiss.
" darling," he pulls away, studying your expression. your hair was tousled, a swell blooming on your bottom lip from his recurrent nibbling and ministrations. the moment wasn't perfect, but he could bask in it for a lifetime. " are you getting sleepy?"
the pretty brown eyes you met were half-lidded and blinking. his bangs traced along your forehead from where he hovered, and if you squint, perhaps you would have noticed how the pink of his cheeks deepened the tiniest bit when you laughed at the tickling sensation.
you murmur something intelligible, the words swallowed by his mouth; he shivers when the syllables reverbate against him and the hand at your hip falters slightly. when he reels back, he remains close enough for his forehead to brush yours.
" repeat that, love."
" i said," you mumble, kissing the corner of his mouth. " can we to stay like this forever?"
almost instantaneously his body shakes in anticipation, heart lurching at the sincerity; how can you be so honest to a known liar like him? he slowly nods, his body arching until your chests were touching and breath pricked at your cheek. ever greedily, he seeks out another exchange, this one careful with a lingering touch of desperation.
an "okay" became lost as he gingerly grabs your chin, angling it just the tiniest bit to deepen it. in between the withdrawals and recoil, dazai chooses to ignore the way his breath stills in the pinnacle of moment, made potent when he twines his hand with yours. he provides the appendage a firm squeeze in coordination with the stirring in his chest, your inhales and exhales becoming synchronized.
he can't lie, he's been thinking just as much.
dazai also likes your hands. chances are his are bigger than yours and he finds himself comparing hand sizes with you. his eyes crinkle when your fingers are dwarfed by his.
adjoined limbs are swayed back and forth when you walk together. same applies with intertwined legs, but when he's not busy doing that, he's playing footsie beneath the table.
he needs to be with you whenever he can!! the spot across your table remains permanently empty as he makes a home of sitting as close as possible next to you instead
he can't even be embarrassed with overly sappy displays, not when he's loving it twice as much. " good morning, osamu," you once said, palms cupping his face. he doesn't know if something has ever made his heartbeat spiked as hard as that did. " can I have a kiss?"
if he didn't turn to putty from the request alone, then it was the way you circled your thumbs on his cheekbones when he brushes his lips to yours. tentatively, he curls his hands behind your waist, holding you close before you get too far.
" can i have some more?" his eyes are shimmering in mischief as ever but his skin has progressively grown warmer since you've found him.
dazai is cuddly. getting to hold you close and listen to your heartbeat? yeah, he could die happy right now
unsurprisingly, napping with him is among his favorite passing time activities.
the closest you may get to see a vulnerable side to him is if you card your fingers through his hair. admittedly, he finds it troubling how his built-up walls crumble so easily with a couple of strokes. but the only thing he can focus on now is the sensation of fingers devoid of pain carefully tend through his hair and how warm his chest feels
kisses on the forehead when you're in need of comfort ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
" i'm right here, love." when you glance up at him with red eyes and puffy cheeks he could feel his heart break right into two. even more so when your voice cracks and he tries to hide the way his face drops when it echoes in the somber ambience.
attentively, he cups your cheeks as his lips apply delicate pressure against your forehead. he sighs when he feels your trembling hands subdue and your breathing regulate; its panning against his skin rivaled any other comfort he could ever receive.
" better?" when you nod, he could feel his grin return, just a bit weaker. " today has been hard on you. get some rest."
" can you stay with me?" he already knew the answer in his head but it still makes chest swarm tremendously.
he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, lips brushing your forehead again. " of course."
he wasn't the one needing comfort and yet he still felt a deep-rooted tingle right in his chest when you hugged him closer than usual. he depised the circumstances behind it, but he couldn't deny the way it made his barren chest feel less akin to a husk when you felt so secured against him.
his hands start to comb shrough your hair, watching as the strands bend between his fingers and he ensures to provide your scalp proper attention now and again.
he wasn't sure if he'll be able to sleep, he was more concerned in making sure you did.
he blinks when you move to press your cheek against his chest, right where his heart should be. " thank you," your words were muffled against clothes, sending vibrations along his bones.
" you don't have to thank me." he places a last kiss to your forehead, the longest one of the night. his legs shift to intertwine with yours, listening keenly to the sound of your breath until it slows into an assuaging rhythm.
dazai can't recall the last time he had to take care of someone. it's made apparent as he grapples with uncertainty - almost becoming overwhelming with how powerless he felt in the situation.
though tonight, he was sure to hold you a little tighter.
likewise if you kiss his scars and the skin beneath the bandages, he could feel the breath in his throat still and his heart do cartwheels. it's been so void of human touch for so long and he appreciates the care you exhibit towards something he considers to be ugly.
" all better now!" you punctuated your words with a kiss to the newly coiled cotton on his arms. dazai could do nothing but swallow hard, his "thank you" mumbled under his breath; he didn't like the pain, but it wasn't so awful when you spoiled him like this ♡
neck kisses + scattering the expanse of your throat with baby bruises you can not hide. afterwards, he traces it out with his index finger while he takes in the markings with great interest.
when it starts to fade he gladly renews them
" that tickles," you murmur, voice reduced to a whisper; you couldn't trust yourself, not with dazai scattering kisses along the exposed patches of your neck. the rehearsal of which doesn't falter, even when you tug on his increasingly unruly curls.
" my apologies, 'bella," you wince as he captures a patch of your skin between his teeth. " i think i've found my favorite form of art." he has the gall to feign a tone of sympathy, lips arcuated at the growing disparity.
in addition to the nibbling, his fingers skimmed along your torso, moving in taunting lines he knew ran your sanity thin. dazai knew all the places that made you shiver, it was a piece of information that became abused with the movement of his hands in that moment.
against your rationality, you sunk into his touch, fingers twitching along his roots. it brought a simper you couldn't see but his satisfaction is made apparent when his actions grow sloppy, scattering along the expanse of your throat and meandering along your collarbone.
" you had every chance to leave," he smirks when you don't reply, content with the way your nails briefly printed on him. predictably, he gives another nibble on your skin, tugging back gently. " this might be my favorite spot."
right on the center of your unguarded throat.
" i can't hide those there."
he laughs, breath cascading skin. " that's what i want, darling." he thinks he might lose himself when you bring a particular tug in his hair, a sound akin to a grunt reverberating against your throat.
" you're being mean." dazai makes the mistake of pulling back, gracing him with your disheveled hair, reddened lips and growing streaks of red. already he finds it to be his favorite piece of jewelry.
" don't look so down," he pressed a kiss to one of the blooming blemishes, grinning as it became more pronounced. " you'll get your turn soon."
-
—CHŪYA
he takes his gloves off when he goes to touch your face. he doesn't want the sensation of skin on skin to be hamper by the piece of article.
kisses to your temples & neck are exchanges he shares on the frequent. though depending on the height difference, it may also be a gesture reserved for when you're sitting on his lap or cuddled up into him. head kisses in particular feel appropriate for anything really
as for himself, i'd say he likes to be kiss on the lips(mainly so he can distract from the growing crimson that tickles his forehead)
but it's hard with the handsome face chūya has. his growing pout tells you he's growing impatient when you favor his cheeks, but the hand gripping your sleeves are so counterproductive
" can you do it properly?" he gruffs, brows furrowing that weaken by your persistence. his skin was growing warm from the kisses you spoiled him with but it hardly compares to the proper thing on his lips, aching for the familar sensation almost painfully.
he shivers when you trail to his mouth, just shy of it and his grip tightens. " like this?"
his eyes flutter shut when you close the distance and before he could realize it, his hands began to sift through your hair. " yeah," his exhale was shaky, voice dropping to a low lilt. " don't stop that."
he sleeps with his head buried in your stomach - his nose is brushing against your abdomen with toned arms slithering around you like a form of cocoon
it reaches a peak when you brush your thumb over his scalp, and you can physically note the way the muscles in his body sink. you can't see his face, greeted instead by a cascade of reds; but his lips pull into a grin at the action
it grants you the opportunity to play with his hair. and sometimes, when he wakes up to find the claw clips and cute brooches that push his bangs aside and show off his pretty eyes, he won't be tempted to remove them right away.
he wanted to roll his eyes when he saw you pull out the collection of hair clips, taunting pastels and neons gawking back at him. but he has to admit, he stopped caring the moment you started to play with his strands of hair. the locks weaved through your fingers, silky and soft stirring a form of ease that compels him to remain still. when he did move, it was only in an effort to bring himself closer, almost like snuggling(though he profusely denies it as such and regards you a scoff that doesn't compliment the rest of his actions).
had he not been treading precariously the boundaries of sleep, he may have been able to pick up on the way his heart quickened; a solace riveting up his spine and leaving in the form of a breathy sigh.
he blinks his eyes at you, nose scrunched up when you start mapping out his handsome features with your thumb. " you're getting distracted."
you acknowledge his statement with a coy grin and chūya felt his heart swell even at its simplicity. "i know." you move to press your lips to his forehead; if the smile wasn't enough to dissipate the frown on his face, that was the drug.
a flash of color peeks in the corner of his eye as you draw another clip. " i was just wondering how you would look in pigtails," you joke and chūya could feel his face twist— eye twitching at your jest.
" you're pushing your luck."
" it won't be that bad, chū."
" i could leave right now." his voice was terribly unconvincing when brooches adorned his head.
" you would have left a long time ago." you grin when he doesn't refute you. " just relax."
chūya knows he's defeated when you thumb his scalp again, eyes screwing shut involuntarily. " you're enjoying this too much," he grumbles. he tilts his head to the side, granting you access to his hair, hands falling pilant against your thigh. it bewilders him how much relief washes over him as you start to pry the strands apart again.
you know he's fallen asleep when he stopped replying to your ramblings; his words going from full sentences, to sporadic words and then slurred vowels. when you peek down, he's resting comfortably on your lap, lips slightly parted and allowing light snores to fill the silence.
chūya is far too deep in his subconscious to contemplate anything, but if he could, he thinks he might just get addicted to this.
a clingy drunk. in addition, the alcohol is effective at loosening his tongue, resulting in declarations of his undying love that are muffled when he goes head first into your stomach (≧▽≦)
in lieu of that, he likes to spoon you, with himself being the big spoon. he has his head in the crook of your shoulder, and you feel his inhales and exhales against your skin.
he likes your body heat, it grounds him to earth and coaxes a soft demeanor that he fails at suppressing
thoughtful when it comes to kissing in the public eye. he isn't fond of drawing that form of attention to your relationship, but he isn't opposed to stealing a couple of kisses now and then.
it's fast, it's simple and enough to satiate you and himself. and it's enough to tell onlookers that he's your bf
it that didn't give the memo, its the gloved hand on your waist that spoke to people that you were taken.
though that doesn't stop him from tugging you closer in a spur of his protective tendencies. it's a subconscious act he does when you pass a group of people or when yokohama is notably crowded. it's not merely because he's short and is worried about losing you to the sea of wayfarers(at least thats what he tells you) - rather, it roots from a concern that's only repleted when he knows you're safe
behind close doors, however, his kisses lack patience if the way he's gripping your clothes is anything to go by. and while he demonstrates a growing restlessness, he remains pensive to his own strength and withdraws to give you proper time to catch your breath.
but he knows exactly what to do intensify each one and make your brain go hazy
cupping your cheeks, tilting your head, voice speaking in a meticulous timbre that shakes your skull. you're far too consumed in the kiss to recognize when his free hand has found its way to your back, gliding along the spine before slipping beneath the hem.
his gloves are cold against your skin, mumbling a faint 'sorry' that's nearly swallowed when he brushes his lips to yours for nth time.
the limbs explore along the dips and contours, pinching your sides and smirking into the kiss when you yelp in surprise (inwardly, his heart is beating so fast, he wonders if you could hear it when his chest is pressed against yours.)
without the gloves, his hands are a hint warmer. but even warmer are his cheeks when you press kisses to it. he knits his brows together in an attempt hide how much he likes; ultimately, he betrays himself when he pulls you closer
" what the fuck are you doing," he stammers as you press a kiss to his warm cheeks. despite himself, he makes no effort to move when you brush your lips on the other - even warmer than the neighboring pair.
"kissing you," you hum. "... want me to stop?"
" no." he hates how fast the words left him and he hates how you grin at that. it was just the thing to crumble his resolve - and more specifically, it's just the thing to make him go mellow, subservient to your ministrations with his heart beating erratically - even within the scrutiny of strangers and coworkers.
" give me a warning next time." he wants to frown but the expression dies when you crane your head to make contact wherever you can reach. in reponse, an arm finds purchase on your hip, shuffling you closer until you are nuzzled up to his build.
he wasn't sure what rumors would circulate if people saw him being soft - and frankly, he couldn't bring himself to quite care much about the prospect either; inwardly, he was already missing the rehearsal of your lips on his, a desire not easily quelled and he was far more occupied with fixing that.
you let out a confused hum when he suddenly taps at your cheek indignantly. " well?" a thumb hooks beneath your chin, bringing you just shy of his mouth. "are you going to finish what you started?"
when he's making kissy faces with his partner, it's nobody's business.
if you have dimples, he kisses those, each one before concluding it off with your lips
chūya just likes to be in contact with you in some way really. longing to hold your hand and scribe incoherent phrases on the palm. reflected in the way his feet nudge closer to yours and how he never fails to hold your hand beneath the table. when handing you items, he reveals a form of reluctance when he detaches away.
i really want to say he does that thing where he places his fedora over his chest when he kisses your knuckles. he tries really hard to maintain eye contact, but it falters when you send him a beam that makes his chest ache from beating so fast.
and lastly, he never leaves without getting a goodbye kiss first.
" you're forgetting something." chūya vexed— furrow brows bruising his otherwise neutral expression. he hasn't moved from where he stood, silhouette stilled by the partition with nothing but the perpetual tapping of his foot to remind you of his presence. it took all of your strength to push back your laughter at his childish display.
" i am?" you question with a tilt of your head. the inquiry rewarded you with a huff from the former, lip twisting into a frown. admittedly, he looked cute when grumpy, pretty dark eyes tracking you behind colored bangs.
" my kiss?" an index finger points to his neglected lips, promptly chooses to ignore the red hue that harbored along his cheeks, tickling his forehead tauntingly.
chūya tracks your movements as you stride forward, cupping his cheeks within your palms. he resists the urge to close the distance himself - as alluring as it was - he sought out satisfaction when you comply with a genlte kiss. against his own volition, a breathy and likewise dreamy sigh leaves him, just barely audible by the exchange.
his hands sneak down to rest on your waist, twitching when you press a final peck to his cheek. promptly, you decide not to comment on the way a grin was threatening to crack on his oh so serious face.
" better?"
"very."
-
—RANPO
yk in the movies where the guy picks up the girl and spins her around when they kiss? ranpo wants you to do that with him but he's the girl.
piggyback rides ! except he's the one on your back :/ " to the detective agency, y/n!" he jabs out a lithe finger, his dimple smile steady even when you meet him with a glare over your shoulder. it makes him more eager than anything, face squishing against your cheek as he loops his legs around your waist.
" don't give me that look" he exasperates, a brow quirk at your nonverbal response. " the world's greatest detective can't be in better hands."
" you can get there yourself," you sigh, averting your gaze back in front of you. it was hard to fight against him, his persistence shaping your decision the longer he clinged to you.
" thats the boring alternative. duh," he breathes, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. " you know me better than that. besides, i like it when you hold me."
likes kissing you. he will rope up any excuse to steal a kiss. he finished a piece of paperwork? he deserves a reward. finished eating a cookie? kiss the crumbs off. you have absolutely nothing else to do? well, his lips are right there, give him a smooch <3
his kisses taste sweet, the faint traces of chocolate and jams coating his lips. it won't be too far from him to make you guess the flavor of cake he had that morning, but really you think he's just trying to pull more kisses from you. cause he is
" tastes sweet." ranpo shudders when the words vibrate against his lips, cheeks deepening to a rosy hue but the playful glint in his eye ceases to falter. " banana or strawberry?" you blink, a pensive look comprising your features.
a hand cups the back of your head, bringing you close enough for your lips to hover his, still glossy in faint syrup. " nope~!" his proceeding laugh was cut short as he closed the distance again, the ache to kiss you too profound. and with you seated on his lap, he utilized the given opportunity greedily.
you resist the urge to gasp when his tongue swipes along your lower lip, with it the tinge of a fleeting flavor; you recall watching him eat something sweet and sugary in the morning.
he smiles against your mouth, savoring your reactions and attempting to draw out the kiss. " that's definitely strawberry," you contemplate.
ranpo whines when you withdraw, grip tightening against your hands in a stubborn display - it was perhaps the most desperate response you've gotten from him that evening. " are you lying?" you tease with a knowing look; you don't think you've ever seen him shake his head as vigorously as he did now.
" i think," he brushes the corners of your mouth, fingers settling against your chin. "you'll just have to kiss me until you get it right."
the possibility to ponder a response was stolen from you, swelling lips already chasing your own with renewed zeal. dumbfounded, you were naive to the abandoned slice of shortcake just a couple tables away. but by the time you discover it, your little game would be long forgotten.
his childish demeanor often seeps through into his portrayal of affection, fond of sweeping you off your feet at the displays(and at times quite literally too)
it varies in forms; one day he can slump against you like a koala, grip like a vice. and the next he decides to randomly squish your cheeks and bring a kiss to your puckered lips
" ranpo-?!" you sputter, disoriented from sudden and hasty movement. you recall looking over some documents, the next you were gazing into wide green orbs and a nose bumping yours. a self-satisfied look curls on his face, relishing in the way your face fumes beneath his touch.
" surprise~"
" what was that for?"
" just wanted a kiss." he evades the hand on your cheek in favor of curling your bangs around his finger. " i'll come back for more."
he's shameless, unafraid and bold. perhaps not to a similar depth as dazai, but ranpo yields an unpredictability that easily leaves you mellowing in his ministrations
blows raspberries on your cheeks and palms just to coax a laugh from you. it's a reaction he can't help but mimic too and implores you with a "my turn!" while tapping his cheek expectantly.
has probably nibbled on your cheeks at some point too…. :/
likes to hold your hand, slipping it into space randomly and nonchalantly. he sticky like that; appearing from thin air and finding your hand trapped with his.
even better if you sit on his lap or vice versa
when you sleep, he lays on top of you because he doesn't want you to leave him alone. plus! it provides him the perfect advantage to pepper his lips on your collarbone or other patches of expose skin
goodnight kisses (and nap kisses) are a must and he turns greatly fussy when denied such "necessities" as he puts it
" i'm only going to get a glass of water," you reassure him, sweeping his messy bangs aside to press a kiss to his forehead. the crease between his brows goes slack, but his grip remains fixed; it was late, and the last thing ranpo wanted was for you to leave your spot on the futon. " i promise."
his eyes surveyed your face for an inexplicable answer and the fidgeting of his fingers against your forearms tells you he's hesitant.
a silence shrouds the dorm before he speaks again, voice weakened and resigned - it almost made you want to stay in bed with him, enveloped by the unspoken words and his endless aura of affection. " okay." you trace your finger over his cheek, pallid and smooth beneath the pad - the gesture was persuasive enough for his grip to grow lax. he didn't let you get too far yet however, an outstretched pinky waiting before you. he bestows you a broaden grin when you accept it, pressing a kiss to the tip of the adjoin digits.
he doesn't leave your side even as you fix yourself a glass of water, your shared blanket haphazardly draping his shoulders and trailing behind him. he lingers by your arm even as the facet runs, interrupting his thoughts with tired green blinking in impatience. and he watches you through his bangs as you replenish your thirst, already looping your arm and guiding you back to your futon.
not a second after your head meets the pillow, ranpo wraps himself around you, dawning a smile now that you're back with him. he didn't care if his elbow was probed at an odd angle, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible.
" you can't fall asleep yet!" he whines, pulling on the sleeves of your shirt languidly. " it's only fair if you give me a kiss."
" i gave you one earlier."
his gaze shifted to a mixture of displeasure and yearning, small hands pulling eagerly on the fabrics of your clothes. his pleading green eyes made it hard to resist his demands, obscuring into a candid vulnerability you seemingly wielded over him.
" but," ranpo leans close enough for his nose to brush yours, messy fringe framing his sleepy face. his hands flex around your palms, nails scuff on the contours, voice going so low you almost didn't hear him. " i can't fall asleep without it."
pinches your cheeks when in vie for your attention. in any case, he isn't against stomping his foot and whining as a last resort :<
his pout dissipates when you grant him with a collection of kisses or allow him to sit on your lap, fiddling with the ends of your hair or scribbling random phrases on your thigh that he makes you guess
i wouldn't put it against him to randomly jump into your arms or back. the questioning glances he receives hardly impedes him, instead murmuring an "i miss you," into your shoulder. he quivers in your arms when you comb your fingers through his hair, eyes squeezed shut in an air of bliss.
when it comes to deep embraces, he nestles against you akin to a cat, hands pawing wherever he can reach with greedy intent. and that cloak of his can easily encompass the pair of you, performing as a makeshift den of sorts. it feels like your enclosed own little world with him pressing kisses along your face like a butterfly
ranpo is attentive, all too familiar with your habits including the ones you don't cognitively account for. he notes the way you fidget with your fingers, and increasingly it came to be with his fingers you grew fidgety with. if you have a habit of tugging your sleeve, it's not your sleeve you're tugging on anymore but his instead.
he comes to recognize these patterns and responds in kind either with a squeeze to your clasped hand or tapping against your skin in a form of code.
has love hearts in his eyes when you offer to feed him. if he's feeling kind, he'll reciprocate the gesture, though, often at the expense of getting something he wants.
napkins are overrated, kissing off the crumbs or using his thumb are so much more favorable alternatives to him
" say ah~"
you cocked a brow as sugar became smeared on your lip - hardly helped by the titter coming from him. ranpo's persistence was tenacious and the myriad of his treats proved to be bottomless. you weren't sure how many treats you've been fed at that point but it's evident the former found enjoyment from the coddling as evidence of his dimpled smile.
ranpo offers you another confection, a velvety cookie glazed in congealed frosting. when you indulgently take a bite, the filling melts in your mouth and the taste of vanilla floods your taste buds.
" it's good right?" he gives you a smile as he observes your face, brightening when you react positively. " i got them just for you. i knew they were your favorite."
he suddenly pauses, eyes fixating toward your direction. he pays little heed to the look you send him, not when his gaze centers south; that should have been your first sign to up and leave - you want to blame his bribery of treats for your reason to stay.
" you got crumbs all over your face," he said, eyes squinting. while his tone was gentle with a trace of mirth, the way his eyelashes batted innocently at you alluded otherwise. ranpo always held a resurgent glimmer in his eyes, one that he couldn't blink away easily.
he hastily stops you before you could grab a napkin to dapple it away, residing to instead run his thumb along the corners of your mouth. the deliberate proximity catches you off guard and given how his lips shift into a faint smirk; that was exactly the reaction he was hoping to coax.
" much better," he leans back but not without pressing a peck to your nose first.
he plucks out another cookie - and much to your surprise doesn't eat it down right away. more accurately, he crudely cracks it half, revealing an abundance of sugary filling hidden within the confines. without a hint of hesitation, he dips a finger into the cream frosting and messily swatches it against his mouth.
his dimpled smile doesn't leave him for a second even as he slots in front of you directly. his pink cheeks and light stutter chipped away at his facade but his green eyes and lips pulled into a firm beam remained confident.
you almost detested the way it was infectious otherwise you would have rolled your eyes.
ranpo reached out to cup your cheeks, waiting. " it's only fair you do it back, okay?"
-
—ATSUSHI
he holds a lot of hesitation when it comes to enacting anything physical and it shows.
modest, never performing any actions without your explicit consent. even so he exercises slow movement and allows you the opportunity to withdraw if you so desire.
he follows you around a lot though, seeking comfort from being your presence
it shows in the way he inches himself closer to you when you're in the general vicinity. in the way he glances at you for confirmation before lacing fingers. in the way he scoots his chair to close just so his thigh is just slightly nudging yours.
he questions how you're able to be so composed even with something as minimal as brushing clothed skin because inwardly he's going abrack and he can't focus on anything else
" atsushi are you listening to what i'm saying?" your voice broke him from his stupor, head perking up
in the following moment he could do nothing more than let out a nervous laugh, eyes fluttering in companion of scarlet cheeks. " ye- i… erm.. can you repeat that please?"
actually him -> (〃´𓎟`〃)
his favorite physical attributes about you are your hands, i think! they're so strong, and it fits into his perfectly <3 he can spend an hour just tracing the lines along your palm and appreciating the details
as such he's a hand holder as well. he shyly links his pinky with yours before gradually lacing the rest of the digits. when he looks at the joined limbs, it's like a shot of comfort runs right through him.
you often catch him peering at you in the corner of his eyes, mosaic of yellows and purples squinting in intrigue. presently, his hands go clammy, fidgeting against his pants at a random manner; it was a common gesture of his, one that didn't go by unnoticed by you.
" something wrong?" he eases up a bit at the sound of your sincere tone.
" no, not at all," he gives off a nervous laugh, hand scratching the back of his neck. too far into his nerves, he failed to to recognize how the area became chafed. " i was just wondering," he paused, lips shaped into a bashful smile. " can i… hold your hand?"
atsushi didn’t have a mirror on him but he doesn't doubt that his face can put tomatoes to shame.
fortunately, the stiffened muscles on his back go slack at the giggle you release, a nervous chuckle pouring from himself. the erratic beat of his heart meanwhile, resumed its ricochet against his sternum, blood pounding on the lobe of his ear.
"you don't have to be so hesitant about holding my hand, 'sushi." you accentuated the statement by dipping your palm to take his.
it's evident he takes your words to heart, as next time he wordlessly hooks his index finger with yours before properly weaving the rest of the appendage. it was like a perfect puzzle, he reckoned and he gave his head the faintest tilt to gaze at it.
without realizing it, he rolls his thumb over the knuckles, savoring the exchange and the sensation of your fingertips on his. you haven't even spoken a word and already, his heart fills immensely full.
and if you pay attention, you may even catch him grinning at the presumably courageous gesture he mustered himself to do. his clammy palms tell you he's nervous, but it's hard to resist him when he's genuinely trying so hard.
when he does garner the confidence however, he holds his hand out for everything; helping you out of the car(princess treatment w him tbh!), guiding you to bed when you're really sleepy, or when he just needs to be in some form of contact with you. he may even take it a step and pepper some kisses on the knuckles or rub the joints
moving his hand along your back when you're having a bad day of sorts. he may even resort to drawing shapes or random designs with the back of his nail as he listens to all your troubles
whenever your face scrunches up he kisses the pinched muscle until it goes loose again.
" there's that smile." he pushes aside his diffidence for your sake, cupping your cheeks before pressing kisses along your cheeks.
for himself, he finds a sort of reprieve by lying down on your lap. the moment his head makes contact with your thighs is like instant relaxation for him.
and all he can pay attention to afterwards is the sensation tickling his ribs and the way you mindfully took his roots within your fingers.
he seeks stability in such actions; his deep exhale occupying your dorm and meandering with the dust particles that float around him. he doesn't even realize how he's nuzzling closer into your body, eyes squeezing shut when you favor his scalp for a few seconds.
if he could purr, he would
kissing the tips of your fingers and hugging you from behind ♡
its the best form of affection he could ask for when he comes home groggy and sore from work
" i'm home." exhaustion claws at his voice, movements stiff and sluggish as he strips of his tie and other accessories. his eyes surveyed the area, searching until…
a pop of familiar hues sweep into his vision. it revitalizes just enough energy to sustain a pair of open eyes, belied to the fatigue housed prior.
" welcome home, 'sushi." you greet with a smile he couldn't help but mimic even as the muscles in his body disagreed with it.
your mouth moves to mumble something else, but the words become intelligible to his ears. he was more far more concerned in slumping into the crevice of your shoulder, head falling into familiar position.
" miss you," he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against you, affectionate as ever. his hands wander down to your waist, finding the hemline. perhaps his growing daze subdued his rationality, for his hands slipped beneath, pinky faintly hitting skin.
" let's go." you gently tugged on his arm, intending to guide him to your futon; you only managed a couple steps before his grip went firm. almost uncharacteristically. when you turn your head, your met with a pair of fluttering lashes gazing at you - droopy but in its reflection was an intangible touch of fondness.
" this is fine," he brushes his lips to your cheek. the gesture was sloppy but enough to rekindle a grin on your face. " just want you here."
his finger sprawled against your stomach, heart hastening when you leaned back into him. he took the opportunity to douse himself in your comfort, relishing when you brush your fingers past his ear and scratch along his head.
he feels himself sink more when your nail caught a certain spot, just lateral to his head.
if it weren't for your voice breaking the silence, he would have surely fallen asleep at that moment.
" i'm right here," you murmur. " go ahead and rest." he wasn't sure how those words could weigh heavily on him as it did and also provide him the lull to drift off to sleep. but it didn't matter. the real thing is so much better than he can ever imagine.
when you cuddle together, he prefers to settle with his hand or head where your heart should be. the thumping is so reassuring, especially when his insecurities pipe up. he needs to know you're still there :(
on the days he can't sleep, he finds himself playing with your fingers: gently flexing the joints and counting the knuckles
he's docile at anything routley intimate; fuming a pair of uncomfortably hot cheeks and legs reduced to jelly. his words often come in the form of stutters and slurred syllables, the slightest of touches jolting him.
his actual kisses though are gentle and considerate, favoring areas such as your hands and cheeks.
in contrast, the drawn-out gestures are hesitant at first. when it came to the first kiss, he had to swallow down his nervousness.
" did i do okay?" he inquires, eyeing your countenance. he feels a crash of relief when a grin curves on your lips and in turn he flashes you a dazzling amiable smile.
"good." he nods at that, removing the space again with the intentions of lengthening it and making it better than the last. good was fine, but he wants perfect when it came to you
when atsushi gets a taste of what physical affection can be like; pecks at his face, squeezing your hand and spooning you close - he's hooked. and he wants more, becoming akin to an insatiable pit. and it's profound.
he yearns for more kisses and lingering embraces that set his nerves aflame. he yearns to be closer to you until it was just impossible.
it also spurs a part of him(and in consequence of his ability as well) a yearning to leave some markings along your skin. he tries to be considerate in where he places it, but he himself is awful at hiding his own blemishes.
a shaky expression drops on his face, the faint pink on his cheeks deepening to a cherry blush. he wasn't familiar to having your lips press beneath his chin, outlining the thrum of his throat - you could feel it's cadence whenever he sharply exhales, in pair of his palpitating heart.
even within his daze, atsushi remained cautious to not sink his nails into your shoulders. in comparison, he fails to suppress his shudder when your lips brush against a particular spot, air knocked from his chest.
when you glance up at him, his face contorts into a form of raw desperation, tugging onto your clothes until you were just shy of his mouth. meekly, he tries to not linger his gaze on your lips as you spoke; " is this fine?"
it's like you're teasing him, puffy magenta lips gawking at him and he wants nothing more than to kiss you again.
" it is." from the corner of his eye he could make out the faint reds that probed from his clothes hemline, dotting along his collarbone like swatches of paint. he doesn't think he'll ever grow use to it, filling him with an exhilaration he reasons can't be replicated elsewhere.
" i like it actually." his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to steady the eruption of red on his cheeks but it did little to quell his racing heart when you cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
" i'm glad, you look handsome like this."
his smile reaches his eyes. "you look pretty too." his nails dug into his palms in an effort of restraint as he returns the gesture in kind.
-
I was originally hoping to include fyodor but this was so long already. w/ him (& unfinished) it would be 8k words. I rlly want to do version for sigma and akutagawa too. ty boxing fyodor anon 4 enabling my behavior TwT
these have so much room for improvement but I've fiddled around with it sm (๑′°︿°๑). if this doesn't leave the drafts now, it never will. I'll fix mistakes laterrr
taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandiss @4nthonyyliving @guacamole-roll @sunnyx07
be added or removed here !
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cheriiyaya · 1 month
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HIS SLEEPING BEAUTY ♡
FEATURING: D.Osamu + Fem!reader
♡ Dazai comes home early, and is met with the most adorable sight of his life: you
CW: fluff, kissing, established relationship, mention of kunikida, dazai skips work, one suggestive joke, NOT PROOFREAD
A/N: this is so self indulgent but i need osamu to do this to me sb :<<
"♪ And while you sleep, I'll be scared. So by the time you wake I'll be brave ♪"
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The door to your shared room creaked open slowly, revealing a tired looking dazai in the doorframe. He carded his fingers through his hair, about to call your name before his eyes fell upon you. You were asleep, hair fanned out on the pillow and the sheets twisted up around your legs.
Carefully, dazai walked over and he could feel his heart throb when he saw that the shirt you were wearing, the top few buttons undone and the hem riding up your thighs, was his own. You must've stolen it from his side of the closet, not that dazai minded.
He carefully made his way to the bed, crouching at the side to admire your features dripping in golden sunlight, brushing strands of hair out of your face. Dazai paused and then shrugged his tan trench coat off his shoulders, letting it bunch up on the floor. He crawled into bed besides you, discreetly nestling himself against you and cautiously draped your arm over him before resting his forehead over the place on your chest where he could hear the steady, grounding thrum of your heart. The artificially crafted scene looked perfect, as if he woke from a dreamless night wrapped in your welcoming embrace.
Such a picture of serenity wasn't held for very long. Dazai planted gentle kisses on your neck, tugging down your collar to kiss at the dip of your shoulder as well. Through this silent display of affection, you quietly stirred, eyes heavy with sleep as you looked down at the brunette curled against you.
"'samu...?" your warm breath tickled his scalp as you spoke with a voice hardened with drowsiness. Dazai grinned coyly, brushing strands of hair away from your face before resting his thumb against your bottom lip.
"Yes love?" He murmured, pressing down on your lip.
"shouldn' you be at work? wha' s'the time?" you turned your head to the side in an attempt to capture a glance at the clock resting on the bedside table. Dazai shushed you quietly, cupping your cheek and turning your sleepy gaze back to him.
"I waaass let off early! Kunikida agreed with me when I said I had to see your pretty face twenty-four-seven!" He knew that was a lie. Dazai had ditched the office early, and he knew that he couldn't ignore kunikida's phone calls demanding him to get back for very long.
You blinked as you slowly became more lucid, lips parting as you realized it. "...You liar! you ditched work early, didn' you?" You sat up on your elbows and dazai quickly pushed you back down onto your back, pouting.
"Bella'! I'd do no such thing! I'm telling the truth!" He whined, planting his chin below your bony clavicle. He collected a few strands of your hair, watching them fall through nimble fingers.
"uh-huh."
"Bella!!" Dazai huffed childishly, gaping when you pulled away from him when he tried to kiss you.
"Go. Back. To. Work." you rolled onto your side, back facing him. Dazai stared at you like a kicked puppy, warm brown eyes wide and full of hurt. Once he realized guilt-tripping you wouldn't work, he carefully crawling over to you and plopping down by your figure. He pressed his face into the back of your neck, one hand draping over your waist and the other fiddling with wispy baby hairs at the back of your neck.
"C'monnnn, don't be like that..." Dazai mumbled against your skin, pressing his lips to the nape of your neck. "I missed you sooo much!" He waited a minute, the only sound coming from you was the sound of your soft breathing. This wasn't gonna cut it for dazai.
You were flipped onto your back with a soft thud, eyes fluttering open to see dazai literally laying on top of you as he looked up with pleading eyes. His fingers reached out and cupped your face, squishing your cheeks a bit.
"Darling! I really am sorry but how can you blame me for wanting to see the prettiest girl ever?" He grinned, leaning over and kissing the corner of your mouth. One turned into two, and soon dazai was all over you, hands curled into your hair as he peppered his lips over your face, brushing through your hair.
He giggled as you whined and tried to push him away, hands slinking up your shirt and splaying long fingers over the soft skin of your tummy, tickling it just to hear you squeal.
You curled up against yourself, pushing dazai's hands away. He tutted lightly, pulling your legs away from your chest. One hand found purchase on your thigh, pressing down keep you from squirming away. With a stupid grin, dazai lightly gripped the hem of the shirt. "See? You missed me so much didn't you bella'?" He giggled, leaning down to kiss you softly before pulling away.
Dazai scooted down, lifting the shirt up despite your flustered protests. "hush now, I've seen you without your shirt a million times, love." his smile only grew as he saw you purse your lips, eyes growing wide as you whined and squirmed in response to his flirts.
He began to press his lips to the soft skin of your stomach, grinning against it as you whined and suppressed giggles of how it tickled.
"'samu!! s-stop that !!" Your adorable squeals only fueled dazai to plant more fluttering kisses along your abdomen, his hand sliding up to trace the curve of your waist.
"nuh-uh! Not 'till you admit you missed me!" Dazai sighed and slid his hands down, cupping your hip. He looked up at you and his stomach churned pleasantly at the sight of you, the prettiest thing he swears he's ever seen. The way your hair was spread out on the pillow like a halo, and your lips parted as you let out the cutest giggles- he wouldn't believe he had a heart if it weren't for the way you melt it.
"looks like there's an angel in my bed." Dazai chuckled softly. he peppered a few more soft kisses on your tummy before moving up, kissing your forehead. "...my pretty girl." Another kiss against your cheek. "the prettiest gi-" he was suddenly cut off when you pressed a finger to his lip, pouting and about to whine when he saw the adorable look on your face; the corners of your eyes crinkled up and lips pulled up in that smile of yours that he loved so much.
"dazai, I get it!" You giggled. "You love me!" dazai grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your finger before gently curling lithe fingers around your wrist, kissing each and every one of your fingers.
He finished with a kiss to your palm, looking at you with eyes of molten honey and pure adoration.
"I love you more than you'll ever know, darling."
...♡♡♡...
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©Cheriiyaya 2024
taglist will be added once it shows up in the tags. wanna be tagged? ♡
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aureatchi · 6 months
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“I GET LOST INSIDE ALL THE STARS IN YOUR EYES, IT’S A GALAXY.” ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, nikolai, sigma
— how do the bsd men kiss you? (& other things.)
a/n. rev writes this knowing well she’s awkward w physical touch ‘n has never kissed a guy. hdjshsh.
info. fem!reader. fluff !! + a bit sugg. established relationships. kissing, making out. mentions of bsd s5ep11 spoilers for dazai. pinch of angst if you squint.
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DAZAI loves to listen to you ramble. he loves listening to you pour out your mind’s lively ideas to him out loud, whether it’d be something super philosophical that could match even his intellect, or something insignificant like the tv show you were watching last night before you fell asleep, waiting for him to come home. he is fascinated by anything and everything you say—so much, he wants to shroud the part of your body that speaks with love.
Which, of course, applied when Dazai finally returned to you from Meursault, after what had seemed like himself or you trying to cross the infinite sea of time.
You ran towards Dazai, his face clear and unhidden from the full moon’s light. He stood there with the biggest smile on his face, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck and envelope his taller figure in your embrace, but oh, he shouldn’t assume and expect loving gestures so quickly.
Instead, he was met with a fist to his chest, a punch with quite some power packed into it. Not enough to actually hurt him, of course, but Dazai would react dramatically either way.
“O-Ow! Bella!? What was that for?”
He looked down at you, catching an emotion as intense as fire in your eyes as you met his concerned, honey-dipped ones back, realizing you were being serious. Your fist was still connected to his upper body, and he stole a quick glance to observe your state—good, she’s been taking care of herself; she hasn’t skipped her meals—before meeting your face once again.
You let him bathe in a few moments of anxious silence before you finally started shouting.
“You didn’t even warn me!”
“I had no idea where you were!”
“Do you know how scared I felt?!”
Dazai continued to stand in place, not backing away when you continued to throw feeble punches at his torso with every frustration you cried out, when tears started to fall from your eyes, and when you stopped boxing him to surrender into his chest but not holding your tongue just yet.
“You’re so stupid and insane for this one, Osamu. Prison?! And you couldn’t even get a telephone to…yknow? Call me? Talk to me? I hate y—”
“Shh.”
Dazai had cupped your face, and before you could speak anymore, he sealed his lips over yours. Immediately, you kissed him back, abandoning all anger toward him by his action.
His eyes were half-lidded as he admired how yours looked in the silver moonlight. Up close, you were encompassed in his signature smell of green tea and a hint of mint, tempting you to keep him close to you even more.
“I…missed you so much, ‘samu” you said in between kisses.
“I’ve missed you even more.” You were lifted off of your feet, legs wrapped around his waist, as Dazai continued to press his mouth onto yours. He meant what he said—he savored the feeling of your warmth on him and the taste of your lips once again after not having it for so long. And robbing you of the same bliss along with it.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll make everything up to you, love,” he whispered as your hands found their way to sift through his soft, brunette hair. “I’ll kiss you as many times as you wish.”
“I’m sure you will even when I don’t wish,” you replied as you both pulled away for air, chuckling. “You’re not sly—we both know you kiss me to shut me up.”
“And I don’t see a problem with it?” he asked, his usual smug smile returning to his face before he gently peppered your forehead next.
“No. No, I don’t either.”
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CHUUYA loves to spoil you. the top mafia executive spoils you with gifts, jewelry, accessories, breakfast…lunch…dinner, you name it. he also loves to spoil you with affection. after long days at work, he is always relieved to come home to the one good and comforting person in the world.
“Welcome home, Chuuya!” you greeted as you heard the front door open, the ginger-haired entering the house.
“Whatever you’re making smells delicious, doll,” he responded in a delightful tone, probably the first time he spoke so pleasantly all day.
You smiled. “I just finished making dinner.”
He walked toward you in the kitchen, pulling you into a hug.
“What’s up?” you replied, giggling at embrace as you wrapped your arms around him in return.
“Just missed you, that’s all,” Chuuya replied. “ You’re heaven-sent, yknow.”
You felt touched by his words. “I missed you too, Chuu,” you replied. “And I’m glad you feel that way. You deserve the best, and that’s what I’m trying to be.”
“Doll, you are the best. And you deserve the best,” he responded.
“Like this.” He gently lifted the custom necklace clasped around you. It was his present for one of your anniversaries, brought from some foreign country.
“But you deserve even more than material things.” He moved hair out of your face as he looked into your eyes.
He then moved closer to your face until his lips brushed over yours, and you could feel the warmth of his face.
“Something like this,” he said and then kissed you.
Luxurious as he was, his cologne smelled the same, completely engulfing you in his world. Chuuya showed you just how much you deserved by trailing his hands down to your waist, soothingly adoring every part. Meanwhile, his cerulean eyes gazed into yours, recording how pretty you looked to save in his mind.
“You’re so beautiful, doll.”
He felt you smile against his lips. “And you’re so handsome.” You broke away and then took the hat off of Chuuya’s head.
“You’re like…the person who can pull off the fedora the best.” You placed the hat on your head, his scent even more prominent on that accessory.
“You say that, yet I think I have competition now. Y’look cute with it on too.” Chuuya smiled, approving you with his signature hat.
You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s eat now before the food gets cold.”
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RANPO was very high-maintenance. you had to buy him snacks, you had to give him hugs, you had to do anything in the best wishes of the world’s greatest detective or else…he’d whine. and once he started complaining, he would not back down until you gave in. yet, however childish he was, you found him cute and didn’t love ranpo any less for his call of your affection.
“Ranpo! What do you need?”
Your boyfriend had run into the bathroom where you were trying to do your makeup, currently putting lipstick on your face.
“ ‘m really hungry,” he said, obnoxiously staring at you apply the red shade to your lips.
“Hungry? Oh, the snacks are in the pantry. I thought you’d already seen them?”
“No! I don’t want them!”
“Huh?” You paused and immediately turned toward him in utter disbelief that he had just declined his favorite food.
“Are you okay, Ranpo?”
“No!” He was unanticipatedly so loud that you flinched, accidentally running the lipstick off your mouth.
“…You’re not looking for snacks?”
“No!”
“Then what do you want?!”
“You!”
There was an awkward silence, and you noticed Ranpo’s face had gone entirely the shade of your lip as he stood, pouting.
It was apparent he was embarrassed for what he just blurted out. You almost wanted to laugh.
“You could’ve just asked me!” you replied with a chuckle in your voice. “Come here.”
Ranpo trodded toward you, still visibly frustrated.
“What do you want?” you asked.
“Well, first of all, you didn’t kiss me before I left for work this morning!”
You sighed, amused that he was whining so much because of that. And how he would never directly admit what he wanted from you—always making you have to solve puzzles and guess riddles to figure him out.
But it was also incredibly endearing how Ranpo took all your affections toward him to heart, no matter how big or small they were.
“Awh, I’m sorry I missed that,” you replied. “I’ll make that up to you.”
You kissed Ranpo’s cheek, stamping a red signature on the spot. You moved to his other cheek, and then his forehead, and then everywhere in between until he was covered in your smooches.
“Look!” you turned Ranpo toward the mirror for him to see what art you’ve created on him.
“You’re forgetting one place,” he said, turning his face to look at all angles.
“Really? Where?” you asked. He surely didn’t need anymore—his whole face showed proof you touched him everywhere with your lips.
“Here stupid, duuuuh,” he responded, kissing you on the lips. He moved your back to the edge of the sink counter, and then lifted you up to sit on it.
“Hungry, are you?” you giggled as he teased you with his tongue. “I avoided that spot on purpose, stupid.”
“Who are you calling stupid, stupid?” He ran his thumb over the stain your lipstick messed up on. You could feel him smirk.
“You, stupid! It was your fault after all. And look at your face!”
“Sweetheart, if you’re calling me stupid, you are too. One, you’re just stupid, and two, you’re stupid for being with me!”
You pulled back, laughing. “If I must be stupid to be with you, then I guess I’m stupid.”
“There’s a solution! If you call me smart, it’ll make you smart.”
“Fine, Ranpo. You’re the smartest person I know in this world.”
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NIKOLAI loves surprising you. he finds your sudden reactions nothing short of adorable. which is why he caught you off-guard so much, so that he could see the cute responses you made, duh? widened eyes, mini jumps, and yelps were a few things he oddly took delight in.
Which is why the jester loves to surprise you with a kiss whenever he greets you. Though, whenever he does, you receive no warning. And you never know whether he wants to give you a simple peck on the lips or a full-on makeout session. It was expected to always be unexpected.
You were walking down the hallway to your room with a basket of clean laundry when you suddenly heard the all-too-familiar cheery, charismatic voice.
“Dove being productive, hm?” he chirped.
You scanned the entire room with your eyes, but you couldn’t see Nikolai anywhere, even though there was nowhere to hide.
“Kolya?”
“Hehe…I think it’s time for a quiz time!! Where am I?
“Am I here?” You heard a swift movement to the right of you, but as you turned, nothing was there.
“Orrr, here?” Now, you felt something brush your left side, but once again, when you turned to look, you were greeted only by Casper.
“How about here?” His voice was suddenly quieter but closer, more intimate.
You felt his frame against your back.
“Kolya!” you jolted in reflex, dropping the laundry basket—not expecting Nikolai to appear right behind you—but then, he surprised you even more by turning your face to the side and crashing his lips into yours.
He was so tall that he could easily lean over you to kiss you from behind your back.
You made a muffled squeal, and in the next moment, Nikolai had you against the wall with your hands above your head.
He stared at you as if nothing else in the world mattered because he already knew the reaction he would get out of you. You felt so shy and vulnerable under his complete gaze, but Nikolai was also mean—he didn’t allow you to move an inch to save face.
He wanted to enjoy the full show.
“H-hey! You can at least blink…” you blurted out when he finally let your face go, though he immediately grabbed you again seconds after.
“Hm? What’d you say, dove?” he asked, kissing you again. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were so soft and tasted like candy—how could he not be greedy for more?
“You’re so cute, baby!” he exclaimed when he finally pulled back. You were panting—Nikolai showed no mercy when he wanted you to himself.
But you still smiled in return when he gently bopped you on the nose with his mouth, a stark contrast to what he just did.
“Ah, did I get carried away?” He only then noticed you out of breath. “Sorry, I just missed you so much!”
“It’s alright,” you replied, hugging him, the scent of strawberry cake lingering on his body. “Though, whatever happened to a hi; hello?”
“You’ll never get anything boring from me, dove,” Nikolai giggled. “That’s one thing I’m certain of.”
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SIGMA treats you like the most precious thing in the world, a princess. you need your shoes tied? oh, he’s on the floor with the laces. you need to go somewhere? he’s driving you there. you want to visit the sky casino? he would rig all the games so that you’d win every time. sigma is sweet and polite—he would always make sure you are fine with something before going ahead with it.
“How about here? I think this is a nice spot.”
“Okay! Let’s set our stuff here then.”
You and Sigma set down everything you brought for your evening picnic on the hills. The spot he had pointed out was directly in front of the sun setting behind the mountains, its golden glow bathing the earth in the day’s final hour of light.
Once all the food was organized on the blanket, you took out a couple of ribbons from your pocket.
“Do you want me to help you?” Sigma asked as you tried to figure out where to put them in your already-styled hair without a mirror. He noticed your struggle.
“Oh! Sure,” you replied with a shy smile, and immediately after, he was behind you, taking the braids in your hair and tying the ribbons onto those.
“Thank you,” you replied when he was done, and when Sigma stepped back, he smiled in admiration.
“Of course.” He took your hand as you both sat beside each other.
“It’s so pretty here.” You turned to face the mountains, the sun halfway below the horizon. “You were right; this is the perfect spot!”
You looked back at Sigma, but it seemed like he paid no attention to the view at all. His eyes were only on you.
“…Sigma?”
“Y-you look really pretty,” he said, eyes not leaving once you made eye contact with him.
“…Can I kiss you?”
Immediately, you felt your heart melt because your lover was so innocent and lovely. You had been together for months, yet he was still asking for permission to kiss you.
“Of course, Sigma! We’re literally dating, you can kiss me whenever you want.”
“O-okay!” You giggled at his smitten reaction.
You closed your eyes and puckered your lips in a dramatic act of preparation.
It seemed you had been mistaken, though. Because, he had kissed you on the forehead.
“O-Ohh—oops, I thought you meant-”
But then, Sigma’s lips were over yours. His hand that wasn’t holding yours gently guided your face towards his. His touches were all tender, expressing how much he adored you.
You wrapped your own free hand around his neck, pulling him closer. You opened your eyes slightly to take a peek, seeing his own were fluttered closed under such pretty eyelashes, and his expression content, basking in your comfort.
It was as if you and him finally breaking away was the moon’s cue to rise. The sun had set entirely by the time you were done, shades of warm-toned colored clouds left as a trail.
“That was sneaky of you, Sigma,” you laughed, cheeks warm and your head a bit hazy from how everything in the setting was so dreamy. “You tricked me by going for my forehead first.”
“I wasn’t going to kiss you straight-up like that! It was intimidating, you just waiting!”
You laughed some more, seeing his own cheeks tint a light shade of pink. “Come on, let’s eat.”
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if u rb this post, i heard that ur fav will kiss u tn! reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3
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© aureatchi 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.
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stuffeddeer · 6 months
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It's late.
Dazai feels a little ashamed, if he were to be honest. How pathetic is it that he's unable to sleep unless in the arms of his coworker? A little pathetic. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to pick the lock to your apartment.
It's late. You're probably asleep.
He's jealous. Yeah; the clenching feeling in his chest is jealousy from your ability to sleep through the nights (a feeling of his that isn't shared towards his well-rested coworkers). You're asleep, and he should be. He will be.
The door clicks quietly, and Dazai doesn't react. How many times has he broken into your apartment? The question is left unanswered as he saunters into the place, making sure to close and lock it behind him.
You're asleep. It's late.
He makes a pit stop by your kitchen, staring blankly into your fridge like he'd do if he lived here. He counts the number of half finished water bottles littering the shelves, dispersed in between random ingredients you don't open and snacks that are dwindling in number.
If Dazai lived here, maybe he could make you dinner sometime. Gather the ingredients to fill your fridge, put a pan on the stove — however people cook, he can't remember. The fridge closes quietly; It's late. You're asleep.
With a final glance towards the sink, taking note of the dirty cutlery delicately balanced around the edges, he makes his way into the hall. Three steps and he'd be outside your door, your bedroom door, where you're asleep.
Dazai pushes away the same thought that keeps appearing in his mind. Of course you're asleep, it's late.
He turns away from your bedroom and finds himself standing in your living room. It's happily lived in - cushions that have lost their fluff, a blanket strewed across the couch haphazardly. His hand runs over it; always the same blanket. Dazai can imagine sitting under this blanket on the couch with you, the couch you two would share, watching some movie on your small tv just across the small room.
If he lived here, he'd make sure to tidy up the living room before you two went to bed. You kept a basket of blankets just next to the tv, and Dazai could easily drape the blanket back into it before following you off to bed. For now, he leaves it; There'd be no trace he was here come morning.
Once again, he finds himself mere steps away from your bedroom door. You live alone, for now, and yet keep the door closed every night. Is it habit? Are you worried some barbarian will break in just to watch you sleep? (Dazai isn't here to watch you, of course; He's here to sleep as well.) If that is what you're worried about, he could always spend the night with you, just to make sure you're safe. Well, spend the whole night with you, rather than breaking in late and sneaking out early.
Dazai turns into the bathroom.
You have the cutest rug next to your shower, one that always makes Dazai smile. A tough persona is applied at the agency, so only he is privy to your cute pink Sanrio bathmat. It's not what he would have expected for you, and that's what makes him smile. Your counter holds an electric toothbrush and has a lot of clutter Dazai wants to sort through. If he lived with you, he could place his toothbrush next to yours and keep your hair care stuff in the cabinet below. Maybe one day you'd let Dazai comb your hair, with a brush or just his fingers.
It's late. You're asleep. The same thought Dazai has been pushing down since he began the walk to your apartment fills his head once more. He's not delusional, no, but what if you weren't asleep? What if you were waiting up, just for him?
His hand touches the doorknob. It's late. You have no reason to think he's coming. The door opens slowly and quietly as he peers in.
You're asleep.
Dazai's chest constricts and he can't help the frown pulling at his lips. Of course you're asleep; He's stupid to get his hopes up. If you were awake anyway, you'd kick him out and probably call the cops. He is trespassing right now, at a time when you're most vulnerable.
Still, Dazai slips into your warm, cream-colored sheets, his hands clasped together under his cheek as he lies on his side. You're so calm, so serene under the dull light of a street lamp just outside the bedroom window. Hesitantly, Dazai's hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, the tips of his fingers experimentally tracing your skin.
His eyes flutter shut when you move closer. Were you used to his presence? Dazai likes to think you need him to sleep as much as he needs you. Sure, you could fall asleep without him curled up beside you, but maybe he was soothing nightmares. The thought made him frown. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't be here. His eyebrows furrowed like they had when he first broke in — this is weird. This is illegal, too.
A frustrated puff of air leaves his mouth, his eyes shutting more firmly. Tighter, tighter — why isn't he asleep yet?
He curls more into himself, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and anxious and annoyed and-
Your hand moves from your chest to his, softly resting over his heart. The small smile resides back on Dazai's face as he relaxes, slowly drifting to sleep in your bed.
Light filters in through your sheer curtains, the sun kissing your face as you quickly wake up. The blaring of your alarm was the first thing you'd noticed, rubbing your eyes with one hand as you turned to shut it off. Just a few moments of peace, and then you'd get up....
Those few moments didn't come to pass before you were hit with a boost of energy, sitting up in your empty bed. Of course your bed was empty, no need to emphasize it. You live alone, did you expect someone to be there when you woke up?
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Me & my hubby!
—When you accidentally introduce your boyfriend as your husband
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Jouno X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Humor
Format: Drabble
Warnings: Suggestive content in Dazai's
Word Count: 1.6K
A/n: This is very rushed so sorry if its not well written
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↳Osamu Dazai
As the door of the fitting room opened, your boyfriend came into sight. The white tuxedo hugged his slim frame perfectly, making his tall figure stand out even more. The color had given him an elegant look, which nearly made you wonder if he was the playful guy you were dating.
Dazai smirked as he picked up on your stun and flashed you a cheeky smirk. "Like what you see, Bella? You're staring a little too hard you know~"
Suddenly the fitting room seemed like the perfect place to show him how much you actually liked his new look. It didn't matter if you made a mess out of the tux, since you were about to buy it anyway.
"Oh Osamu... You should wear white more often"
"Everything alright here?"
The salesclerk was checking up on you with a warm smile.
"Ah yes! We would like to buy this one. It looks gorgeous on my husband"
You didn't exactly pay attention to your words, but seeing Dazai's eyebrows jump in surprise made you question your statement, and...
Oh.
Anxiety washed over you as you weren't exactly unfamiliar with your partner's commitment issues, but much to your surprise, Dazai wasn't upset nor terrified; his huge ass grin was showing off his joy and flatter.
"I'm her husband!"
For god's sake.
The salesclerk on the other hand was looking at you oddly, probably questioning her life choices.
"Ah, ok. Well then would you mind taking the tuxedo off? I'll wrap it up for you"
A snicker left your boyfriend's lips as he pulled you close by your waist. "Sure, but I might need my wife's help to take my clothes off. Will you be kind enough to help me out, Anata?"
"Oh shut up already!"
↳Chuuya Nakahara
One of the benefits of working at the same organization was that when your boyfriend had a mission overseas, you could go with him.
You had just arrived to your hotel after a five hour flight, which made you tired as hell since you couldn't sleep on the airplane. Although that wasn't enough to lessen your excitement for going on what could be some kind of a trip after you finish the job.
"Have you made a reservation beforehand ma'am?"
"No, it was kind of rushed. Would that be a problem?"
The receptionist shook his head to the side. "Not at all. Lucky for you, we still have some rooms available"
The door of the hotel opened and Chuuya came in, approaching you with your luggage in his hand. You looked back at the receptionist. "Great! Then I'd like a room for two people. We're going to be here for a while since my husband needs to take care of some stuff from work; right, honey?"
Chuuya froze in the spot and a light shade of crimson appeared on his cheeks. This was definitely unexpected. It made him feel butterflies in his stomach in a good way and somehow questioned all the logic that made him avoid thinking about the future of your relationship.
"Well your husband doesn't seem to be sure" The receptionist commented in a humorous way. "Alright then, here's your key"
On the way to your room there was a silence that couldn't exactly be marked as "uncomfortable". Chuuya was wearing a warm smile yet so drowned in his thoughts that you refused to take him out of his zone. However, when you reached the door, he suddenly lifted you up, making you suddenly gasp and gaze at him with astonishment.
"What are you doing?"
"What a good husband is supposed to do"
The familiar beam was back on his face.
"I'm carrying my wife to our shared hotel room"
↳Ranpo Edogawa
"Ranpo! You can't eat this whole cake!"
Going to the bakery had become some sort of tradition since you and your boyfriend started dating. You went there every afternoon, tasted the new pastries, you lectured him to not get carried away and he stopped you by shoving a cookie in your mouth. That was pretty much repetitive, except that something extra was coming along today.
"I can and I will. That's why it's called sample y/n" He munched on his cheesecake, delighted by the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.
"Well Mr. detective, It's a sample so you should just take one bite and then move on! If you like it then just buy one!"
The baker chuckled and walked toward you. She knew you since you were regulars there, and she had enough respect for the president to not throw a tantrum over a few pieces of cake. "It's alright Miss y/n. Let the man eat his sweets"
"You don't understand ma'am! My husband eats way too much sweets and that's not healthy at all! What if he comes down with diabetes or something?!"
Ranpo stopped chewing for a brief second and looked at you from the corner of his eye. The lady on the other hand, was more excited than shocked. "You got married? Oh! Congratulations! It's nice to know that Mr. Ranpo has finally settled down!"
You didn't know if you should correct yourself or hide your red cheeks. "I— I meant that— " "Please have some more cake! They're on the house. Consider them a gift from me"
As she left you alone, you finally turned to your boyfriend to see his reaction, which was exactly the way you expected it to be; smug and playful. "Ah, I went into this marriage with so much hope"
"Oh grow up!"
↳Fyodor Dostoevsky
"How's your steak honey?" You asked, looking at your boyfriend with curiosity. He had been taking bites reluctantly, swallowing without actually tasting the meat.
"It's burnt to a crisp, even though I ordered it medium rare" He gently wiped his mouth with the napkin, placing the cutlery on the table. You gave the dish a once over and flagged the waiter down. After a while he approached your table. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"
"Yes. My husband ordered his steak medium rare and as you can see, this is not what he asked for"
My... Husband?
"Eh, so... He'd like his steak... Medium rare... Please?" Awkwardness was hitting you and you really didn't want to be alone with Fyodor right now, but unfortunately, you were on a date and there were no way to escape from it.
The waiter excused himself after apologizing and taking the plate back to the kitchen. He did find your sudden change of expression odd, but he didn't say anything since he wasn't asking for less tip. However, Fyodor was completely ready to bring it up. You could tell that based on his grin, but you were doing your best not to face him at that moment.
Not that it was enough to stop him.
"How's your pasta Mrs. Dostoevsky?" "Fedya! Stop!"
↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa
Getting sick on valentine's day was not originally your plan, but at least you got to visit the doctor together. You were now waiting for the secretary to call your names.
"How long should we wait?"
Covering your mouth with a tissue, you lightly coughed. "Anytime now. All the people ahead of us went inside"
Akutagawa glanced at the door of the doctor's office and nodded. He had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant today and was planning to take you to some place nice afterwards, get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him, but you suddenly got sick. It's not like he could be mad at you. It was not your fault, but... It seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect day for a memorable gesture...
"Mrs. Akutagawa! You're up"
Akutagawa.
She was referring to you, with his last name.
You had introduced yourself as Akutagawa. He was sure you did it accidentally since your face was redder than a tomato now, but still, he never thought hearing it would feel so... special.
The raven-haired man held your hand and leaded you to the doctors office, a ghost of a smile spread on his face. He might've lost the chance to propose now, but it's not the end of the world. You're stuck with him and not going anywhere, so he would try to make the perfect plan for a perfect proposal, for the perfect girl.
↳Saigiku Jouno
"Are you sure this is the store?" Your boyfriend crossed his arms.
"For the thousandth time! Yes!" "Well, you were also sure that you knew my size but it turns out you were wrong" "Ugh! Let's just get inside!"
Thanks to his job, Jouno was always on endless missions and barely had time to rest, let alone go shopping. You this T-shirt when you were walking by and you just couldn't help but to imagine your boyfriend in it. It might've cheered him up if it was his size.
The clerk recognized you the second you set foot in the store. "Oh hi ma'am! Welcome back!"
"Hi Amaya. Thank you. So, remember how I was not sure if the T-shirt was my boyfriend's size?"
She only nodded with a forced smile, because how could she forgot? You spent fifteen minutes staring at the T-shirt, wondering if it would fit him.
"Well, it wasn't" Jouno's smile got wider and you sighed. "Yeah yeah, I admit it. I don't know what size is suitable for my husband. I'm the worst partner ever. Can we please change this one and leave?"
"I don't understand ma'am"
For real? You just can't take a break.
"I'm saying that the T-shirt was too big for him!" "Yeah I got that, but I thought he was your boyfriend?" "What do you mean you— oh!"
No.
No no no no no no no no.
Jouno's smirk was still on, and now with a little smugness. He was clearly enjoying himself.
"If this is your way of proposing, it's really lame" "Oh shut up you big jerk!"
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
Note
Hello. Can I ask imagine (or headcannons, if it would be more convenient for you) for Mori Ogai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol (separately) and their fem!s/o? Their child is jealous of his mother (s/o) to his father and tries to take all the attention of his mother to himself. Please.
“PAPA GET AWAY FROM MAMA!”
— your child being jealous of dazai, fyodor, chuuya, nikolai and kunikida
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a/n: I do hope that this is what you wanted and that you like it <;33
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DAZAI OSAMU:
dazai never thought he would be bestowed the blessing or the bliss of having a family, but here he is. he has you wrapped in his arms and he is certain that nothing could feel better than this.
however, it is eerily quiet in this household and osamu guesses it’s because the little devil is asleep, the little devil being his son.
his son looks exactly like you, but my god if the kid doesn’t have the same amount of love dazai has for you then dazai doesn’t know what does he have.
the kid never lets him have his time alone with you and for some reason is genuinely upset whenever you and dazai hug or kiss.
that’s why dazai is making the most out of his time today.
he starts pressing kisses to your shoulder, “it’s been a while, right, belladonna?” your fingers find their way through his hair and dazai smiles instantly, “my pretty wife.”
alas, good things don’t last because the both of your are snapped from your sweet moment by the offended and sob-filled screech of your son.
the kid is balling his eyes out at the scene and starts screaming, “GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”
dazai’s eyes widen; however, before he responds, you push him away and run to your son to coddle him and calm him down.
dazai pouts but lets it go because his son probably needs the hug.
but, what dazai didn’t expect was that his son would grin and stick his tongue out at his dad.
dazai is flabbergasted, but smiles back.
“she was and is my wife before being your mom,” he whispers and winks pointing at the ring on his finger.
your son frowns and simply huffs, assuming that you’re clueless to what the heck is happening while you’re hugging him.
your, petty, husband also believes that this banter would go unnoticed by you so he sticks his tongue out at his son and his son gasps quietly.
well, they’re both equally stupid cause you obviously know, but oh well.
FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:
never in a million years did he imagine that the person who would challenge him in everything would be his own daughter, his way too smart for a 7 year old, daughter.
today, she saw him hugging you from the back while you were cooking and decided that it’s enough time with you for him.
“father,” she calls out and he hums in response.
“that’s enough time with mom; get away,” she says calmly and he doesn’t look at her and instead tightens his hold on you and whispers, “milaya, you look breathtaking, today.”
you shake your head with a smile and a small, rare chuckle escapes fyodor.
“father, please distance yourself from mother,” she says one last time, patience running out.
fyodor looks at her, “and if I don’t, dear?”
she blinks up at him then kicks him in the shins. he staggers, surprising both himself and you. he looks at his daughter with a frown, “how courageous of you, my dear daughter.”
“cry me a river; we agreed that we each get one hour with mom!” and there comes out the you in her. she smiles the moment you pat her head, signaling for her to go wait for you at the couch.
she bolts there and leaves you and your husband to be. fyodor finally stands up and looks at you with a barely visible pout that has increased in appearances since you gave birth to your dear daughter, “y/n.”
“yes, fedya?”
“our daughter kicked me in the shins.”
you raise an eyebrow, “and you didn’t guess she would?”
“of course, I did,” he looks at her, and somehow your husband who often is known for his intelligence seems like some jealous baby, “but I thought she wouldn’t do it in front of you, at least.”
“well, I didn’t see anything,” you sing and he smirks lightly.
“teaming up on me, are you?”
you shrug, “how can I ever?”
“what a cruel wife you are,” he mumbles right beside your ear and you merely roll your eyes.
NAKAHARA CHUUYA:
sometimes, you feel like you’re a rope being tugged between your son and husband. they are both equally possessive and both have quite the tempers and you have to act like the peace keeper most of the time.
today was no different; however, you have decided to simply watch from the sidelines this time.
“dad! I am gonna marry mom! don’t fight me about it!” your son says confidently.
your husband feels a vein pop, “you little— you can’t marry her! she’s already married to me!”
“no she isn’t!”
“yes she is!”
“what’s your proof?” your son says with a smirk that he definitely inherited from his father, but who’s counting.
your husband narrows his eyes at him and huffs and goes to your shared bedroom. your son giggles and runs towards you, “finally! mom, can I have a hug please?”
you open your arms and your son wastes no time jumping into your embrace making you smile and pat his back. you’re kind of surprised that chuuya didn’t fight back as hard today; maybe you guessed today’s outcome wrong—
you’re quickly proven to have indeed guessed it right as your chuuya appears in all his glory holding your wedding photo, the marriage certificate, and proudly showing off his ring.
your son’s eyes widen, “what is this?”
“the proof that me and y/n are married,” he replied smugly and you sigh.
“w-well, she doesn’t have the same ring as yours!” your son stammers and your husband simply smirks and points at your left hand.
you’ve never heard your son screech so loudly in all his 6 years of living as his eyes lay on your ring.
he jumps away from you, clutching his heart, “mom, what is the meaning of this?!”
“of what exactly?”
“YOU’RE MARRIED TO DAD??” he gasps and you chuckle lightly because if you were to roll your eyes then this house will be turned into ruins.
“honey, I had to marry dad so we can have you,” you smile and chuuya looks as offended as your son.
“HAD TO??”
you side-eye him and he quickly zips his mouth shut and looks away but not without grumbling a couple of curses.
“but that means that I can’t marry you cause you’re already married,” your son says defeatedly as he sits on the floor.
“EXACTLY SO LET US BE!” your husband shouts confidently.
tears well up in your son’s eyes and he bursts into a wail that has your house flooding in a couple of seconds.
you simply look at chuuya, “way to go my dear husband.”
KUNIKIDA DOPPO:
most of the time, your daughter was a daddy’s girl. she always listens to him and a grin is automatically plastered on her face once she sees him.
you can never blame her though cause you have the same reaction whenever you see your lovely husband.
your daughter turned out to be an exact copy of you and both of you share the insane amount of love you have for kunikida.
but there are times where your daughter just wants time with her mama not her dad.
for example, today, you and kunikida were cuddling in the bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. his arms are wrapped around you as he strokes your hair and you feel him press a kiss to your forehead making you nuzzle into his chest.
you feel him smile and you close your eyes to welcome sleep, but you hear a couple of knocks on the door.
your husband sighs softly before sitting up and putting his glasses on, “come in, d/n.”
she slowly opens the door and peaks in, “sorry pa.”
he adjusts his glasses and shakes his head with a smile, “it’s okay; did you have a nightmare?”
she nods softly and perks up at her dad patting the bed. she walks to you two and climbs up the bed, which is quite the travail for her.
most of the time, when she has a nightmare, she squeezes herself between you both to have ‘best of both worlds’ as you say.
so kunikida expects her to sleep between you both like usual, but instead she pushes him away, albeit gently, and sleeps right next you —where he once was— and cuddles close to you.
you pat her head and pull her closer with a smile.
you look up at your husband who had his spot taken from him and giggle at the sight of his small pout.
kunikida watches you guys cuddle and then decides to just lay back down and simply wrap his arms around both of you at the same time. he didn’t train all of that time for nothing.
your daughter whines jokingly, “paaa, I want to be with mom.”
he raises an eyebrow, “is that so?”
she nods and starts squealing and laughing when her father squeezes you guys in a tight hug. both your laughters fill the room and kunikida smiles before saying, “do you not want papa anymore?”
“no no! I want you; please mercy!” she pleads making both you and kunikida chuckle before he finally relaxes his hold and kisses both your and her cheek and the three of you finally succumb to sleep.
NIKOLAI GOGOL:
“quiz time! guess who had his share of y/n today?”
you deadpan, “kolya, I am not a pie.”
“well, you’re certainly as sweet as one,” your husband grins, but both you and your son just gag at the terrible pick up line.
you’ve long got used to his theatrics, after all. your son, though, calls bs on everything his dad does.
“not me,” your son replied with a grin and holds you tighter, sticking his tongue out at nikolai.
“AHAHA! you’re as funny as me, s/n,” nikolai cackles, and you’re sure he is keen on throwing your son off of you any time now.
“but dad, I can’t be funny as you,” your son says dejectedly and nikolai’s eyebrow rises.
“why is that?”
your son smiles, a closed eye smile, before replying, “you’re not funny at all; that’s an insult to me.”
nikolai doesn’t say anything as he pulls your screaming son off you, after quite the struggle.
he walks to the garden and throws him there, “go play with a frog or something; I will have y/n all to myself for the rest of the day. thank you!”
your husband smiles victoriously and is about to throw himself into your embrace until his son reappears right beside you and the boy has a frown that only means one thing.
chaos is about to ensue.
your son starts throwing a tantrum and yelling, “I WANT TO CUDDLE MOM!!”
“no can do, young man,” your husband says shaking his head, “you already got your fair share of mama per the agreement.”
“what agreement?” your son asks, tears still streaming down his face.
your husband puts his hand in his coat and gets out a contract.
the contract reads that your son will only have 2 hours of your attention and time while your husband gets the rest.
“b-but these types of papers need to have signatures of both sides!”
your husband giggles, “your signature is right here, my dear son.”
your son gasps but quickly composed himself.
“oh whatever shall you do now? I rightfully deserve all of y/n’s time—AHHHHH WHAT THE HELL?!”
you come back —after leaving to get yourself a cup of coffee cause this is way too much for you— and find that your son has effectively set the contract on fire.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or i will cough in your face
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lovedazai · 9 months
Text
LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON THEM
ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, tecchou
p.s.! ⊹˚. this has been in my drafts forever & on my mind for even longer :< i just want to spoil all of them
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DAZAI ー dazai is glowing under all of your attention. the rosy smudges cover his entire face; they peek from beneath his bangs, traveling across his cheekbones and bleeding over the edges of the bandages on his neck. he didn’t know how long it’d been since you first cupped his cheeks, a smile curling his lips when he saw the red painted on yours. getting showered in your kisses was like a dream, and he thinks that if he were to die right now, it’d be even more euphoric than he could’ve ever imagined. he buries his hand in your hair to cup the back of your head, urging you to continue. he shamelessly whines when you pull away, even if you’re still close enough for the tips of your noses to brush. “just one more?” you press your lips to his cheek, but his lithe finger curls under your chin to bring you back to his lips, darkening the pigmented smears on the corner of his mouth. he lets out a dreamy sigh as he looks at you, wiping the lipstick that escaped the outline of your lips with his thumb. “just one more?” he kisses you, mumbling the rest against your mouth. “for real this time?”
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CHUUYA ー chuuya had given you his black card for the day, letting you buy whatever you desire with the promise of showing him everything when he got home that night. shopping bags and tissue paper dot the floor; the soft blue eyes that watched you flaunt your new clothes now linger on your lips as you apply your new lipstick. “i really like this color,” your phone camera works as a makeshift mirror, and you pop your lips, bright red spread evenly across them. “i got it because it reminded me of you.” you make yourself comfortable on his lap, placing your knees on each side of his thighs before you press your lips to his skin, warm from his blush. you start kissing along his cheekbone, leaving a trail of stains across his face until you press your lips to his. his bare thumb makes itself home against your jaw, and his ungloved fingers are warm from where they rest on your skin. when you pull away, chuuya’s grin is equal parts lovesick and prideful, and you smile at the marks you left behind. “this color looks so good on you.” he says, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “yeah? it looks good on you too.” you kiss the corner of his lips, watching in satisfaction at how it smudges his skin. he holds you firmly to his chest, hand sneaking beneath your shirt and settling on the dip of your lower back. “you got any more to swatch on me, pretty girl?”
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RANPO ー the smile that formed when you first started kissing ranpo slowly drops as his lips quiver and his hands grip at your shirt, keeping you close to his chest. the stains left behind from your lips are camouflaged against the background of his flushed cheeks, pretty pink complimenting the green of his eyes. “so pretty,” you mumble. “did you know you’re the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen?” you think you hear him whimper at your words, and the little noises vibrate against your mouth. his lips are sweet from the konpeito he was eating when you first found him, and you make sure to linger on them every now and then. his grip on your shirt tightens when you pull away, smiling at the collection of lipstick marks across his face. “why’d you stop?” he pouts. “i’m out of space. i kissed you all over.” you tilt your head, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose. “except there.” his hand leaves your side to pull at his loosened tie, and you watch him unbutton the top of his shirt until his collarbones are visible. “there,” his hands settle against your waist once more, tugging you back to your rightful place pressed against him. “now keep going!”
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FYODOR ー what starts as one kiss turns into two, then three; you couldn’t resist the urge to keep going when you saw how easy it was to paint his pale skin with your lipstick. you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind as he sits at his desk, grinning to yourself as you trace the marks across his cheekbones with your finger. “what are you smiling about?” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, a slight smile of his own growing. “nothing. you’re just handsome.” he hums, spinning his chair to face you. “does it have something to do with this, i wonder?” he has a knowing glint in his eye as he holds your jaw to trace his thumb along your mouth. you kiss his fingertip from its place on your lip, admiring the way the pigment stains his fingertips as best you can; it's a welcome contrast to the blood from his biting habit. he takes the opportunity to pull your face to his own, kissing your lips as his hands sneak to your waist. “if you insist on showering me with your sweet affection,” his lips curl upwards into a self indulgent grin as he pulls you onto his lap. “you should at least be comfortable while you’re doing it.”
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NIKOLAI ー you carefully trace the shape of your lips, not noticing the man who teleports into your room; you hear him before you see him. “boo!” you jump, gaze drawn from your reflection to nikolai’s smiling face, peeking up from behind your shoulder. “kolya,” you sigh. “you almost ruined my lipstick.” he meets your pout with a giggle, squishing your cheeks in his hand. “lipstick, you say?” a gloved finger swipes across your lip, smearing the fresh coat you’d just put on. his visible eye sparkles as he looks down at the fabric, darkened with pigment. before you can realize it, he’s taken your spot at your vanity and pulled you into his lap. he taps his cheek in the form of a request, visible eye crinkled from how hard he smiles when your lips meet his skin. it only grows with each kiss you place, giggling when you brush his hair back to kiss along his jaw. when he looks over your shoulder and catches himself in the mirror, dotted with red stains, he can’t help but wish your marks were as permanent as his scar. he grabs your chin, turning your head so he can press his lips to yours. “i thought you wanted me to kiss you,” your nose brushes his, eyes falling to his tinted lips before he tilts your face upwards to meet his gaze. “don’t be so greedy,” he grins, twirling your lipstick tube between his fingers. “it’s my turn now.”
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TECCHOU ー you were especially indulgent with your goodbye kisses today, and tecchou couldn’t find it in himself to mind. he leans into your touch as you tuck his hair away from his face, brushing your lips right beneath his marking. he lets you do as you please, content to stand there as your kisses tickle his skin and pleasantly turn his stomach. “can i have one here too?” he points to his lips, shivering when your hands curl behind his neck as you move to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing back up to his cheek. “i have to go soon,” his voice is as serious as ever, but his lips are pulled into the tiniest of pouts, hands still lingering against your hips. your lips are pressed against his chin when he sighs your name, finally making you look up at him. the red stains scattered across his face match his uniform; the thought of your boyfriend going about his day visibly stained by your affection makes you fill with butterflies, and you've never been so thankful for his obliviousness. you place his hat on his head, straightening the brim. “stay safe today, okay?” you whisper, pressing one last kiss to his lips. he nods, hand falling to the handle of his sword, but his stoic face isn’t nearly as intimidating with your lipstick smeared across it.
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BSD MASTERLIST
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fyorina · 1 month
Text
ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.
Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.
Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.
“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 
He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.
“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 
You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.
“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 
He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.
“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.
He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 
It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.
It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…
Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 
The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 
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kentopedia · 7 months
Text
seeds of doubt
ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor
summary — you don't feel like you’re good enough for them
contents — they comfort you when you’re feeling insecure about your relationship, sfw !!
notes — my other dazai wip is taking a while, so i decided to finish this one! i started it a few wks ago but since i’ve been feeling a lil down lately, i decided it was time for a comfort piece!
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₊˚⊹♡ DAZAI
when you'd come home from work that evening, dazai had already known something was wrong. your usually bright smile didn't quite reach your eyes, your shoulders slumping the moment you crossed the threshold of your home.
dazai hadn't pushed you, but he had drawn you up tight in his arms, held you close when you breathed heavily into his shoulder, releasing all the tension in your body. his fingertips were soothing along your neck, massaging small, relaxing circles.
for the past hour, though it was nearing dinnertime, you'd found yourself buried in blankets, so warmly entangled with him, even when all of your hypercritical thoughts threatened to chill you to the core.
dazai spoke to you softly, asking you questions about your day for a while, ones that you refused to answer. you kept your eyes glued to the screen, watching mindlessly as a movie played, one that neither of you were paying any attention to.
that continued on for as long as he could stand it.
finally, with a sigh, dazai paused the film. he shifted, turning so that you were both face to face, his long limbs twisting around your own. limbs that were always so solid and warm, despite the iciness of his hands.
"kunikida told me what you said."
hesitantly, you stared back with wide eyes, jaw clenching. already, you knew what dazai was talking about. it was something that you'd told kunikida in confidence, because of all the members of the agency, you'd been certain that he was the least likely to spill your true feelings.
you stared back at him blankly, your shoulders stiffening. "hm? we talked a lot today. i'm not sure i know—"
though you pretended not to remember, dazai didn't let you run away from the question.
his lips fell into a frown, unamused. he drew your name out on an exhale, before running his palm over your cheek, across your chin, dipping his fingers into your hair. "don't bother. he's already mad enough at himself for telling me, but he hated how upset you were about it."
"osamu," you began. "i don't—"
"why did you tell him that you think you're not good enough for me?"
the seriousness in his deep brown eyes was so different than his usual playfulness, and you almost withdrew from them, curving deeper into yourself.
though, alongside the stoicism of his expression was something so melancholy, you found yourself offering your unfiltered emotions instead.
a long pause ensued. you breathed.
"because it's true," you finally whispered, your words wispy. "i'm not good enough for you, osamu." you swallowed when his face fell even further. "you're so smart, so handsome. you make me laugh all the time." your eyes grew hot as you felt tears at the edges of them. "i'm so plain compared to you."
"plain?" he repeated back, so wildly upset that you found yourself at a loss for words. "how can you say that, any of that, when i'm the one that's not good enough for you?"
despite yourself, you cracked a smile at his overzealous need to change the narrative. "don't say that just to make me feel better.”
"i'm not.” he frowned, his lips puckering as he held your cheeks, elongating each of the letters. "you're beautiful. inside and out. in a way that i can never be." he kissed the tip of your nose, smiling as you swatting him away. "i'm certainly not funny to everyone, either. i make you laugh only because i love you, and i want to see you smile." he kissed you between the eyebrows, then, this time laughing when the skin wrinkled there. "and i'm smart because i have to be, because i don't want to see the people i care about get hurt if i can do something to stop it." his expression softened at your glossy eyes, the way you slowly melted under his touch.
you let the words sink in, each one slowly chipping away at the doubt that had clouded you. dazai had never looked at you with anything but adoration in his eyes, something he spared for you and you alone, even when you felt unworthy of it.
"you could have anyone you wanted, osamu,” you said, the honest truth twisting something deep within you. “anyone at all.”
"funny," he said, tilting his head as he studied you carefully. "i've always thought the same thing about you."
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₊˚⊹♡ CHUUYA
“i’m home,” you heard chuuya shout down the hall. he was always careful to alert you of his presence every time he returned, never wanting you to fear that his enemies had found his home, leaving you vulnerable.
you sniffed, some form of acknowledgement as you swirled the alcohol in the glass, pouring it down your throat. it burned on the way down, a buzz already at the edge of your mind, your thoughts slowing as you it sank into your bloodstream.
chuuya didn’t say anything more as he came into the room, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his hat and coat. there was a healed cut running down his left arm, a cluster of bruises on his left.
even though he’d gone on a dangerous mission earlier, he’d come home relatively unscathed.
despite your endless relief, it only did more to fuel your insecurities, the knowledge that compared to all his infinite glory, you were a lackluster, powerless no one.
you poured another glass, unbeknownst to the fact that chuuya was speaking to you at all.
“what?” you turned, the word slurring; you weren’t even sure what set of syllables had left your lips at all.
chuuya made a face as your head plopped down on the table, your eyes red from the tears you'd expelled. “is something wrong? it’s a little early for this, isn’t it?”
you stared at him, and though he was amused, you turned away, feeling the sour emotion of doubt lodge deep in your chest. “no,” you said in a small voice, turning away from chuuya.
he paused for a moment, his expression sobering before he took the seat next to you. chuuya held out a gloved hand, one that you could only see from your peripheral vision. “you expect me to believe that?”
“nothing’s wrong, chuuya,” you muttered, as sharply as you could in your current state. your arm grew numb under the weight of your head, throat sore from your earlier sobs. “i’m fine.”
chuuya sighed and took the bottle from you. even as you protested, every inch of his expression was so caring and delicate.
“that’s how i know you’re not fine.” he ran a hand over your hair, flattening it as you looked up at him from under wet eyelashes. “please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t like to see you sad, baby.”
though you wanted desperately to keep your mouth shut, you were too drunk to hold in the words. you leaned into his touch, letting the tears roll down your cheeks once more as panic grew in chuuya's eyes.
“i just think you deserve someone better than me, chuuya."
his brow wrinkled, and he blinked twice before shaking his head, puzzled. “what?”
you buried your head further into your forearms, unable to look at him any longer. despite your embarrassment, your lips didn't stop moving, releasing every little secret you'd bottled up since you'd met him
“you deserve someone you don’t have to worry about every time you’re away." you swallowed. "i’m not strong like you, chuuya, i don’t have any special ability that can save me from enemies." you thought of all the people he worked with, all of the ability users in the city that could compliment him so perfectly. "someone out there is a perfect match for you… i just don't think it's me.” you looked back at him, with teary, red eyes, right into his own sullen ones.
he scoffed, but his expression was gentle, open, fingers curling delicately around your wrist. "well, you're certainly wrong about that."
you curled yourself into a ball, resisting him, looking down at his knees instead of his eyes.
“none of that matters to me. i love you just the way you are. even if you were the strongest in the whole world, i'd still do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
you rubbed your cheeks, frowning as chuuya began reeling you in, grabbing you by the wrist to tug you onto his lap. “chuuya..." you said, hesitating as he planted you on his thighs, lips pulled tight in complete sincerity as he spoke his next words.
“i don’t care about anyone else. they could have all the power in the world, and it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t be you." he held you steady, one hand on your hip as he let the other caress your cheek gently. "i'll never want anyone else, okay?"
you nodded, though the sadness didn't dispel so easily from your face.
chuuya sighed, offering you as much of a smile as he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be a magic solution to cheer you up. "i'll remind you every day if i have to."
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₊˚⊹♡ FYODOR
your hands curled in the water, tracing patterns throughout the soap and bubbles as your thoughts consumed you. it was just after midnight, but you'd woken up alone in your bed, full of thoughts that seemed determined to convince you that you'd never be enough.
though you'd gotten better at dispelling those dismal emotions, they dug their claws in deep this time. you'd crawled out of the cold sheets and drawn yourself a bath, hopeful that it would clear your mind.
fyodor had disappeared, and you weren't sure if he was in another room or if he had left your home completely.
it was quiet, but that told you little; he was always so silent, sneaking up on you with footsteps that never made a sound.
the door creaked open not a moment later, as if he had heard your thoughts. you didn't look over at him, but he sat beside the tub, his slender fingers curling over the porcelain.
"is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft in the dim bathroom, illuminated only by candles and moonlight. "it's late."
you hummed, and contemplated voicing your thoughts at all. but you were half asleep, drowsy, and it didn't seem to matter what you said. the feelings would still be there, whether you voiced them or not.
still, you hesitated. "am i enough for you?"
you spared him a glance, and his eyes were wide, surprised by your simple question. a brief pause, before he answered, almost gently. "have i made you feel that you are not?"
you leaned your head against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint, the uneven texture.
"i sometimes wonder if i'm just a hindrance to your plans." you breathed, thoughtful as he waited for you to finish. "i feel that maybe you'd be better off without me."
fyodor said nothing as you laid in the water, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. quietly, he discarded his clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he climbed into the tub to sit across from you.
he whispered your name once, but you remained silent, breathing in and out, trying to calm your mind.
"would you look at me?” fyodor asked, and the softness in his words was enough.
you sat up, pulling your legs closer to make space for him, even though he held your calf, drew himself towards you instead.
"you know that i do not make decisions lightly, and yet, i decided to share my heart and soul with you." he caressed your knee before letting his hand fall into the water, tracing patterns around your shin. you shivered. "do you really think i would have devoted my time to you if i ever intended on letting you go? if i didn't need you?"
"i know." you frowned, fully aware that it was true, to the deepest part of your soul. still, there was an ache in your mind, one that wouldn’t just go away with his pretty words. "but i can't help the way i sometimes feel."
fyodor smiled, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners. "i know," he said, and when he had you close, he dipped his head to kiss your bare shoulder. "but you do not need to hide that from me. i am here for you, always." he squeezed your hand. "i apologize if i am not always the best at showing that."
his touch was cold in the exposed bathroom air. "and when you achieve your goals, what will become of me? will you dispose of me, along with everyone else who stops being of used to you?"
"of course not." a laugh escaped him, like your question was unfathomable. "even then, you will be right by my side." he held your jaw tenderly as he forced you to look deep into his eyes. "you are mine forever, don't you understand? just as i am yours.”
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dash is a teensy bit dead rn, but i want to let this one go so i can focus on my other wips <3. this was so nice to write though :))
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osachiyo · 4 months
Text
˖ 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 ! — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai & jouno
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𔘓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — n/sfw content (mdni), hurt + comfort, degradation, tit slapping, use of safe word, ooc in fyodor’s but idc let a girl dream, spanking, rough sex, face fucking, sadism, dacryphilia, toys, role-playing in jouno’s, overstimulation, reader doesn't actually use a safe word in chuuya's (its not possible with a mouthful of cock i promise), cunilingus, one of my only fics where fyodor isn't a toxic little shit so 🤷🏽‍♀️ ps. don't steal my headers !!
𔘓 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — here it is, the bsd version ! sorry for taking so long to finish this, there were some.. distractions 😓 i honestly did not expect this many people to request it *sob* anyways, happy reading and i hope ya'll enjoy ! NOT PROOFREAD !!
like this post? then view my masterlist for more !
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“ ‘samu—!” You squealed, tugging on your boyfriend's hair as he moaned into your cunt, doing nothing but giving you more of that toe-curling pleasure.
"Mmh - don't interrupt my meal, darl'," he leaned back for some air only before spitting on your puffy cunt and driving back in. Large, bandaged hands were pushing your hips down on the bed to keep you in place— to let him have his favourite meal in peace, as he told you.
You couldn't recall how many times you came on his tongue— absolutely drenching his beautiful face with your juices, and he loved it. But you, on the other hand, were starting to get exhausted - no, you were exhausted, chest heaving as you tried to keep up with the hot coil in your lower tummy, threatening to snap any moment.
Dazai would know your limits if it were any other day - he'd know just when to stop, but today was exhausting for him too— and the entire day he was thinking of burying his face between his pretty little girlfriend's thighs - it never failed to melt all of his stress away and fuck did it work like a charm - all thoughts but the taste of your pretty cunt left his mind once he finally tasted you. Including the fact that you had your own limits and needed a break - no matter how pleasurable the feeling of his tongue felt against your swollen cunt— you needed a break.
You hesitantly moaned out the safe word, sinking into the mattress in exhaustion as you watch Dazai blink in confusion, before immediately pulling away from you. The bandaged hand that was previously pinning you down with fervor was now caressing your thigh gently.
"Are you alright, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?" He was calm, eyeing you for any sign of hurt or discomfort. You only shied away from his gaze, fingers fingers fiddling with the satin sheets as you shook your head - "no.. just tired, 'samu." He nodded, a pout gracing his lips - the pink muscle glossy from your combined slick and saliva, "aww, was that too much for my pretty baby?" You only rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his chest as he laughed, planting a kiss on your temple with a soft "I love you so much."
"I love you too," You giggled as Dazai buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the bruises he gave you earlier that night as an apology.
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Chuuya had a rough day, his underlings being "fucking dumb and not getting shit right as usual," in his words. So like the good little girlfriend you were, you were generous enough to offer your hard working boyfriend some "stress relief".
That's how you ended up on your knees in front of the ginger haired man— who was still fully dressed, seated on the fancy black leather couch as you choked on his cock.
Loud growls and words of praise left his chapped lips in hurried curses, a gloved hand pushing your head down to take his cock in fully, basically making you deepthroat him. "God, pretty f-fuckin' girl, my good girl - such a good fuucking- argh—! fuckfuckfuck! Just like that baby, take this fuckin' cock.." He threw his head back against the headrest of the couch, hips now thrusting erratically up to your mouth, fat balls slapping against your chin as you gagged around him. Tears streaked freely down your stuffed cheeks, making him hiss out curses— fuck, you were such a pretty crier.
If he were only more focused and not drunk off of the pleasure of your warm and inviting mouth swallowing him whole, he'd notice your panicked whines, the way you dug your nails into the muscle of his thighs - scratching and trying to pull away from his cock, even slapping them in panic.
You couldn't breathe— you felt lightheaded and if Chuuya kept going, you'd surely faint from the lack of air.
As if right on cue, Chuuya finally remembered that you needed to breathe— hurriedly letting go of your hair and pulling you off his cock, his heart broke once he saw you coughing and sputtering on the floor, your face scrunched up in pain as air finally entered your lungs.
"Shit— doll, are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby," he sounded genuinely guilty, and he was! He'd never want to actually hurt you unless you asked for it, and he felt so fucking bad. You nodded in response, leaning your head against his thigh as you finally breathed normally— tears, snot, drool and his precum dripping down your chin.
" 'm sorry for ruining this, Chuu. I know today was stressfu—" Chuuya cut you off with a click of his tongue, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown gracing his pretty lips, "What're you talking 'bout, baby? You didn't ruin anything," he sighed, "c'mere."
He put his hands under your arms before tugging you up in his lap, gently wiping your face with his gloved hands before pressing sweet kisses on your whole face while whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves you— how good you are for him. The ticklish feeling of his kisses made you giggle— sounding like sweet music to his ears.
After all, no matter how much he likes to see you crying and sniffling for him, he'd always prefer your adorable little giggles.
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"Slap!"
You choked out a moan at the harsh impact of your husband's hand cracking down on your ass— his hand gently rubbed the heated skin as an apology, but you knew it was only a facade. "How many was that, dear?" He mused, tone nothing but unkind and condescending. It make you feel small, and ashamed— but you also couldn't deny the way your pussy gushed out more and more slick with each hit— and he made sure to belittle you for it.
"T-twenty six?" You stuttered, thighs twitching in anticipation as Fyodor ran a slim finger up and down your soaked folds, collecting the slick on his finger before shoving it inside.
"Mmh—! Fedya p-please.." You begged, which inly made him grin devilishly— god, he was so handsome. "Please what? You have to be more specific than that," he muttered as he shoved a second finger in your drooling cunt— his free hand kneading the battered skin of your ass but you could care less about the sting.
"P-please! Make me cum—!" You gasped when another brutal smack was landed on your poor ass, the soft fat rippling as his hand met your skin. "And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" His voice grew stern. You flinched when he flipped you on your back, basically throwing you on the pristine white mattress of your shared bed.
You landed on the bed with a soft "oof!", it wasn't long before Fyodor joined you in bed, basically ripping your cute little babydoll dress off of you as greedy hands cupped your tits, his gaze ferocious— you've never seen him like this. "You're such a naughty girl, aren't you?" He growled— kicking your legs apart to nudge a knee between them - against your bare, sopping cunt. "Fedya—" You got cut off by your own pained yelp as Fyodor tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking your head back to reveal your throat— the soft and sensitive skin just begging him to bite it - mark you up as his.
"Hush now, slut." He scoffed, harshly biting down on the column of your throat— as you let out a pained gasp. It hurt like hell.
You don't know what happened but you didn't like this anymore, you didn’t want to be treated roughly anymore, didn’t wanna be called mean names— you weren’t even processing the harsh words coming out of his mouth, you just wanted it to stop.
“Red, S-stop— red!” You whimpered, sniffling as Fyodor’s movements came to a halt. He let go of his tight grip on your hair— instead gently scooping you up in his arms and cradling you, hushing your little whines.
He silently scanned you before saying anything, dry lips pulled into a frown. You certainly didn’t look hurt… was it something he said? “What happened, darling?” He questioned, voice calm and soothing— a contrast to your own broken one. “Too rough,” you pouted up at him, burying your face further in his chest.
Oh.
“I’m sorry, love. I should’ve been gentler, huh?” He brushed a stray hair from your face, before gently massaging your scalp— easing the burn from him pulling it earlier. “ ‘s okay, fedya,” you sighed, he was so good with his fingers (in more ways than one).
“I love you, dear,” kissing the crown of your head, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I love you too!” You smiled back. A moment of silence passed as you stayed in his embrace, before speaking up again,
“You’re doing the dishes tonight, by the way.”
“…Fair enough.”
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"You're so cute when you get like this," Nikolai cooed, voice drowned out by the sound of his hips smacking against your ass. He had you in a full nelson, your back flush against his chest, strong arms hooked under your knees to hold you up in the air as he thrusted into the warmth of your spasming cunt. "Ngh— 's too much - kolya—" you slurred, head falling back against his shoulder. God, his stamina was no fucking joke— you thought, jaw unhinged as you let out wanton moans. His thighs were absolutely drenched with a nasty mixture of your slick and his cum from the previous rounds— making a "pap! pap! pap!" noise everytime they met your ass. The whole thing was dirty, messy and so fucking lewd— his favorite combination.
"Oh hush now— you say it's too much but—" he gave a mean slap to your bouncing tits, making you squeal and kick your legs at the pained pleasure. "You're just gushing all over me— how am I supposed to believe it's too much for you, hm, dove?" His breath was hot against your ear, making you shudder— "ca— can't! please!" You sobbed, but your tears did nothing more but get him more fired up - shit, you looked the prettiest when you cried.
But the thing is— you actually weren't lying, it was really getting too much for you. But apparently Nikolai was too pussy drunk to recognize the exhaustion on your face. He was going too fast - too hard, you could barely process anything he was saying or even think straight. It was practically a miracle that you even remembered your safe word— "c-clown— clown!!"
It took Kolya some time to process the words falling out of your mouth— brutal thrusts coming to a halt as soon as he realized you just said your safe word out loud. As much as he wanted to ask you what was wrong, he knew he had to place you somewhere comfortable first - make sure you're doing okay. He gently pulled out of you with a wet 'pop!', hissing as your tight walls kept clinging onto him.
Being as soft and gentle as possible, he unhooked his arm from under your knees, flipping you to carry you bridal style - before placing you down on the bed and kneeling in front of you.
"Are you okay, pretty?" His voice was soft— a surprising contrast to how he was manhandling you just seconds before. You nodded, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks, which he gently wiped for you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he pouted - brushing some stray hair out of your face and planting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. " 'm okay," you rasped, cringing at the way your voice cracked. Nikolai nodded, getting up and quickly getting a glass of water for you.
You gratefully took the glass from him, the cool water immediately calming your burning throat. "Are you hurt anywhere, baby?" He questioned, taking the empty glass from you, before placing it on the nightstand. You shook your head, "no, jus' tired, is all."
"So does that mean we can continue late—"
"Kolya!"
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“Well, aren’t you just pathetic?” Jouno grinned, holding the wand vibrator against your clit while pumping the bright pink dildo in and out of you, making you squeal and kick your legs— hips bucking up to meet the toys.
“Please, officer— wanna cum s’ bad!” You sobbed, wrists straining against the leather restraints he had put on you. Jouno hummed, his hand speeding up, thrusting the toy even harder and faster in and out— as he rubbed the wand in circles on your throbbing clit.
“Oh, I bet you do— but, I don’t know if you deserve it yet..” he had a faux pout of his face, pressing the vibrator even firmer against your nub - making you see stars.
He had been at this for hours— getting you so close to reaching your peak before cruelly ripping it away from your grasp, only giving you fragment of the mind-numbing pleasure that you so desperately wanted to feel— and let’s not forget about the mean, degrading words falling from his lips - calling you a worthless slut, who’s only purpose is for his pleasure and his pleasure only. You felt like slapping the cocky grin off his face.
It didn’t feel good for you anymore— instead made you feel terrible, really. The continuous edging with the cruel words took a greater toll on you than both of you had imagined, which led you to eventually sob out the safe word.
Jouno stopped immediately after you blurted out the safe word, quickly but calmly pulling the dildo out of you before removing the wand, placing both of the toys on a nearby table.
He went over to unclasp your restraints, heart tugging at the way you sniffled and hiccuped— fuck, he took it too far.
A frown graced his lips once he felt the marks on your wrists from pulling at the restraints for so long— but before anything else, he had to make sure you’re okay. After all, your safety is the most important to him.
“Are you alright, darling?” He leaned closer, pulling off his slick-coated glasses and chucking them somewhere— wiping your tear soaked cheeks with his now clean hands. You let out a pitiful whimper before nodding, “ you’re too mean and— i still.. w-wanna cum..”
Jouno’s lips quirked up to reveal a cocky smirk— but he couldn’t be more relieved that you were okay - not that he’d ever show it. “Of course, pretty girl— my little crybaby wants to be treated nicely, hm?” He grinned, hand reaching down to flick at your nipple.
“Don’t tease!” You whined, but you still couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Okay, okay— I’ll treat you like the princess you are,” He snickered, kissing the top of your head before picking you up— taking you to the bed to take you like he had been aching to all this time.
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©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡
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