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Chuuya - Blog Posts
What if chuuya wears a hat because he is bald
What manag vol is young dazai and chuuya from season 3??
I've seen the 15 light novel but is there a manga for it??
A/N - Hello sweeties, I couldn't write chapter 2 yesterday because of the poll, looks like you guys picked both Chuuya and Dazai hehe, I hope you enjoy this.
Chapter 1 ↑
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*..・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
You were on your bed, thinking of how could you possibly join the Armed Detective Agency.. Hmmm... What if you pretend that you were evil, but want to be 'kind' now?.. No, too obvious.
what if you pretend to be an orphan who's an ability user?.. No, too weird, your 21 for goodness sake!
Hm... What if you just pretend to be a normal human who just wants a job?
That was kind of strange.. But for this paycheck you would do anything, literally.
And you decided to tell Chuuya your plan.
• CHUUYA'S POV •
Fuck.. Why do I feel this way.. Everytime I'm with them my stomach feels weird.. Do i- No!! I can't get distracted by them, I need to sign these documents..
*knock knock*
• 3RD PERSON POV •
As [Name] knocked on Chuuya's door, they couldn't help but think.
'Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember-'
(Sorry, what [Name] actually thought of ↓)
'Is there someone in the ADA that's gonna know who I am immediately when I walk in?'
"Come in" it was Chuuya's slightly muffled voice.
You opened the door and you swore you could see Chuuya's face Redden a bit.
"Oh, it's you.."
"The one and only, why is your face so red Chuuya? *gasp* don't tell me.. You have a crush on someone!"
"Wha-?! No I don't! It's just hot in here!"
"Yeah sure.. Anyways I have something to tell you...
---------------------------------------------------------------------
"Really? That's the ''Genius'' plan that you made up?"
"Hey! That's the best one that I could think of!"
"Whatever.. This may be your weirdest 'plan', but it may work, good job"
Achievement Unlocked! - Praise from the big bad executive :3
"Yay! Thanks Chuuya!"
"Your welcome..?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------
It was finally the day if the plan.
As you were walking down the street, you suddenly bumped into someone
They had messy brown hair, a long sand-colored trench coat, brown eyes and bandages literally almost every where
'Bingo'
"Oh! I'm really sorry sir, I wasn't looking at where I was going."
"It's fine..."
"Huh?"
"But Miss/Mr... Would you be willing to commit double suicide with me?"
Now that's a question our dear [Name] didn't expect
'This is the Dazai Osamu? He looks goofy..'
"THERE YOU ARE YOU TROUBLESOME BLOCKHEAD!"
Yelled out a voice that belonged to a man with dirty blonde hair tied into a low ponytail with glasses
His yell startled you, making you let out a little Yelp in Surprise.
"Oh! You found me Kunikida, Well done!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WELL DONE?!"
"I-"
"Ugh, I'm so sorry for his behavior, Mx."
"Aha.. It's fine."
"Did he do anything to you??"
"No! He didn't, he just asked me if I wanted to commit double suicide with him.. "
"Ugh that bastar- are you okay Mx.? You look troubled"
"Ah, about that, I'm looking for a part time job"
"Oh~"
The man, Dazai moaned hummed (?), he then looked at Kunikida as if saying 'you know what I'm thinking?'
Then Dazai suddenly said..
"Then.. Do you want to join the armed detective agency, Mx.?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Hehe, can you tell that I forgot the entirety of episode 1? Did you also notice the genshin reference at the beginning?
Chapter 3 will be posted tomorrow, if I made any mistakes please tell me sweetie :)
Also, good luck on getting Alhaitham/Clorinde!
Also, question of the day ↓
Chapter 2 ↓
.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*..・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
You were signing some documents as you sat in your office, it wasn't anything hard
You were just signing them, not bothering to look at it, as you wanted to finish quickly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ugh finally, the last document, I can finally rest now." You said as you put away the documents, suddenly, there was a knock on your door
"Miss/Mr, [Name] , I came here to collect the documents you signed." Your assistant, Akane said as she came to collect your documents.
"Thank you Akane, could you bring me a cup of [Hot Beverage]"
"Of course, Miss/Mr. [Name], Hehe, signing all these documents must've been tiring huh?" Akane said with a giggle.
"Yeah.." You replied with a sigh, kind of annoyed because you wanted to drink [Hot Beverage] as soon as possible.
"Oh my, I must get going know, I'll bring you your [Hot Beverage] soon."
'Finally' you thought as she left quickly, you checked your phone to see a dozen of missed calls and messages, whoops.
Nakahara Chuuya
[Name] are you there??
Yes, I am, what's the matter?
Boss requested to see you... An hour ago..
Oh shi*t..
---------------------------------------------------------------------
You were really fucked now, you mumbled curses as you dashed out of your office, bumping into Akane in the way.
You let out a quick apology and continued running.
Surprisingly you got there less than 6 minutes later, which is kinda impressive because the distance from your office and the bosses office is really far.
You cautiously knocked on the door
"Come in."
As you opened the door there was the boss, Mori Ougai in all his glory, sitting in the chair behind the desk, his 'Daughter' Elise on the floor beside him, drawing with crayons.
"You requested to see me, boss?"
"Yes, an hour ago actually." Oh shit
"I deeply apologize for my behavior, boss"
"Hm, I guess I could let it slide this time, don't make this mistake again."
"Understood, boss." You sighed in relief.
"Anyways I have a mission for you.
this mission is..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------
As you walked out of the office you thought of the mission he just gave you, you had to go undercover as a detective in the armed detective agency, gain their trust and steal the documents that are important to him.
The only reason why he chose you is because neither Dazai nor Yosano knew who you where, otherwise he would've picked someone else.
As you were walking you spotted Chuuya and walked over to him.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Gah! You scared me you bastard.. What do you want? Did you get a mission from boss?"
"I did actually."
~ After explaining the mission ~
"YOU HAVE TO WHAT?!"
"Tsk, could you quiet down, I don't want the whole world to hear you."
After he calmed down he asked you
"But why you? Why couldn't he pick Me or someone else?"
"It's because Dazai knows who you are Chuuya."
"I get it, but why not someone else like Tachihara?!"
"The black Lizard raided the agency, remember? He was there."
He nodded in realisation, then asked again
"Do you want to drink some wine? My treat."
And how could you say no to that?
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter one of this is over, I'll post chapter two tomorrow, I know I should have picked wattpad or something else to write chapters, but I chose Tumblr. Also, who do you want your love interest to be?
[Reader] is gender neutral, Akane is my Oc btw, she's not a love interest :)
Can I request Chuuya with an s/o who can also control gravity? Also have a great day/night
Request?: yes Summery: Chuuya having an s/o who can also control gravity character: Chuuya Nakahara Genre: Fluff, a little bit of angst (Chuuya's fears)
A/N: Hello! Since Im far ahead of my school work I can officially balance my writing and private life! Thank you for requesting! I hope it is to your liking! I love writing about Chuuya, especially when it comes to his ability, its one of my favourites.
I warn ahead that there might be spoilers from Stormbringer! If you haven't read it (or honestly doesn't care about getting spoiled) then be aware of it!
Chuuya Nakahara:
His first thoughts will be fear, not the fear that you would outdid him when it comes to his ability, no not that at all
He's scared you went through the exact same progress he did when he got his.
Let's face two scenarios here, when he finds out you just have gravity controlling ability, exactly like him but without the corruption, I think he would let out a breath he didn't knew he was holding.
However if he does find out you went through everything exactly like him? He would hug you close, kiss a few times onto of your head If he can reach it- and would help you get through the healing progress with him, feeling sad you went through it, but also somewhere back into his mind a little relieved that someone could relate to him with this somehow, how sick and twisted that may sound.
He would train you too if you asked him too! He wants to help his love out whenever he can, so he would gladly take you under his wing when it comes to training! (Maybe every now and then some praise and a rewarding kiss ☺️)
Cute dates jumping over buildings and playing catch, Change my mf mind
He will always be worried about you getting hurt, but very less since he knows how capable you are.
You guys once land onto of the port mafia building, hold a little picnic there, and watching the sunset while he offers you his coat, since it was beginning to get a bit colder
He would absolute not let you meet Dazai, under any circumstances, he wants to keep his clean record of not killing someone in front of you but Dazai will make that record a bloody one-
If you are how ever, somehow friends with Dazai, he will protest with a few pouts and scoldings here and there, but he wouldn't want to control your actions, so as long as you promise not to leave him, He could Try to live with it
Who knows maybe you'll be the reason they'll interact a little bit more with each other
Chuuya is still cautious though, but seeing you smile will make it worth it
The moment you get hurt by someone's else's hands
oh boy
this man is losing his marbles
He won't be reckless reckless, but he will be breaking the arm of the person who did it-
then, its like a switch got pulled, he immediately puts all his attention to you, his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face
"Its okay princess, I'm right here, nobody is gonna touch you."
he'll just murder the person when your out of sight and safe and sound☺️
Do you have a rules page or any guidelines for requesting ?
your very free to ask whatever you want! I do have a few rules, but those are kinda the basics, just decent human being rules
Scroll all the way down at this post and you’ll see the few rules I put in :D
Thank you for asking though <33
hii
in your dazai fic you mentioned a sibling relationship with chuuya. can you write a bit about it? cause I just love the concept of "overprotective big brother chuuya that hates the fact his little sister is dating none other than fucking dazai"
Pm boss! dazai x reader: "Chuuya knows"
Request?: Yes Summery: Chuuya being the overprotective brother type he is after catching the reader and dazai make out. Genre: Fluff
A/N: HI! Omg thank you for asking me to write this, Im obsessed with the overprotective brother Chuuya and Reader who's technically an Nakahara! (secretly also have a soft spot for Chuuya hihi-) Hope you enjoy this fanfic!
You smiled gently, as you walk through the hallways of the port mafia building. It’s been a few weeks since the kiss with Dazai and by now you two grew towards each other, only natural to start a relationship with one another.
Certainly now, since Dazai was the boss, he could provide extra protection when needed.
You walked through the hallways, people lowering their head and slightly bowing at your direction, a sign of respect, (or fear you never know what the boss could do to you).
You have just carried out some arrangements in name of the boss, In secret, since you have seen the piles of papers he fills in daily.
It wasn’t the biggest deal of arrangements and you knew he would just dismiss it, not wanting to deal with it. There was a traitor amongst the port mafia, not necessary the kind that kills, but the kind that slacks off and keep half the money the port mafia earns for themselves, and you know he wouldn’t like to see that.
So, to make this business work and make the people not forget what would happen if you messed with the higher ups, you decided to take measure into your own hands.
It worked obviously, as you have successfully executed the person who cost the port mafia a fortune, taking the money that belongs to the mafia and his personal money, who should spend it? Not his family, as you figured out he didn’t have a family of his own.
You smiled at yourself as the memory of the phone call you received suddenly played in your head
____________________
You were on your balcony, looking over at the streets of yokohama, surprisingly having the night off, as your phone suddenly started ringing.
“Hello?” You answered, chuckling as you heard the familiar voice speak from the other line of the phone.
“Some rumours told me you were going after the asshole thats costing us a lot of money, bold move right under that mackerels nose, don’t you think?” The familiar voice of Chuuya made you smile, immediately letting your guard down.
“Don’t worry about him Chu, he might be able to hurt others, but knowing him, he would only worship the ground I walk over when he finds out I’m basically saving this hell hole” You teased as you heard a cackle from Chuuya’s end.
“Yeah Yeah, Well, I’m glad its you, not someone else, Wouldn’t dream to thank someone like Ace for example” Chuuya’s voice sounded a little disgusted, making you chuckle once again.
“Don’t worry, I got this, now, if you have time come over? I just bought an expensive bottle of wine and I just wanted to try it ou-“
“Fuck yeah count me in.” He interrupts you as he hang up, making you laugh softly at his antics, he will never change when it comes to wine.
____________________
You entered the Office of the boss from the port mafia, as Dazai was just filling in his paperwork, looking up from the piles and piles he had to do. He looked up from his papers, as the door behind you closed and you slowly approached him. His Eyes turned gentle for a moment, as he chuckled.
“Couldn’t stay away from me to long huh Bella?” He teased and you just rolled your eyes with a small smile. “For your information, I was dealing with an situation all day, It sounds like your the one who missed me, didn’t you huh?” You teased, as a small smirk covered his lips, his attention completely onto you.
“A situation you say? Might tell me what that was about.” He asked curiously, as you explained everything you what you did under his nose. His expression growing from caught of guard to a smirk.
“And the money should be right into the bank account.” You smirked, as the familiar ding could be heard from his phone. He laughed as he pulled you onto his lap, holding your chin up.
“You little Brat, doing this right under my nose hm? How could I ever thank you huh?” He smirked, as you leaned in a little. “Hmmm maybe perhaps, this could be my thank you” Your voice gentle and husky, as you kissed him, which he happily returned, one of his hands on your cheek, cupping the side of your face as he deepens the kiss.
“Mackerel I got the- HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING SNOGGING HER FACE OFF HUH? SINCE WHEN ARE YOU GUYS A THING?!” The sudden voice of Chuuya made you two pull away, the smallest blush covering your face as you guys have been caught.
“Chuuya! Not the best delight to see, Have you ever heard of knocking?” Dazai’s teasing voice spoke as he just held you down by the waist, even closer towards him.
Chuuya slammed the paperwork down on the desk, and half climbed on top of it, pulling dazai’s tie. “I EXPECTED NOTHING MORE FROM YOU FOR FUCKS SAKE” He screamed into dazai’s face as he put on a not so amused face.
“Be happy its had not gone any furth-“ “DIE YOU ASSHOLE-“
You just smiled, laughing while they bickered like old times.
You’ll definitely be alright with them by your side.
i love chuuya so much 😔😔😔😔
i would murder someone for him
look at him go <3
sillies grrrrrrrrrr
sososososososososososososososososososososososo silly
i lvoe thiem so much
「Hate You, Love You」 ʙᴜɴɢᴏᴜ sᴛʀᴀʏ ᴅᴏɢs ғᴀɴғɪᴄ
Short rewritten excerpt from Chapter 9:
sᴏᴜᴋᴏᴋᴜ ғʟᴜғғ
~𝙻.𝚁. 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚝
︾︾︾︾
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"So, where did you go yesterday?" Chuuya asked through crunches as he ate some cereal. He looked up at the brunette across the small table from him, who began to grin. "Dazai?"
"Hehe, don't worry about it." Dazai continued to curl his lips as he took a bite out of a piece of toast.
"That's only making me worry about it more. Please, where were you?" Chuuya whined. He put his spoon down to look at Dazai, now getting concerned as well as annoyed.
"It top secret Chuu-Chuu!" Dazai yelled as he dramatically grabbed the butter knife and held it in the air as if to prove a point.
"Don't call me that and answer my question, jackass."
Dazai dramatically gasped. "My heart! I've been wounded! How could you call me such a foul name!" Dazai grabbed his chest as he flopped back in his chair, and Chuuya did everything he could to keep himself from slamming his own face onto the table and into his food, he had just gotten out of the shower after all.
"Damn it Dazai, just tell me." Chuuya said with a sigh as he rubbed his temples, and wondered how the hell he fell for someone like Dazai.
"Fine fine." Dazai said as he calmly sat back down like a normal person, putting the jam covered toast down on the elegant plate in front of him. "I was doing some research." Chuuya raised a suspicious eyebrow and questioned, "About...?"
Dazai then dramatically threw his arms in the air as if what we was about to say was the best, most revelitional thing ever. "I wanted to find a way to make my Chuu-Chuu happy! And I found it!"
Chuuya sat up straight and looked at Dazai attentively, now more curious and slightly confused than anything. He knew the younger man wouldn't stop with the nickname, and that wasn't the battle he was choosing to fight at this moment. "Go on...." He prompted tentatively.
"One moment!" Dazai sang as he got up and went to the fridge, leaving Chuuya unable to see what he was doing behind the silver insulated refrigerator door, but he didn't take long. As he walked back to the small table, he held whatever he grabbed behind his back, and as his wicked grin grew, so did Chuuya's suspicion. "This!" Dazai said as he slammed the milk carton he was hiding behind his back down on the table. "If my Chibi drink's some of this every day, he'll get taller, and he'll be happier!"
Chuuya's aura grew dark as he slowly stood up, his piercing blue eyes downcast and hidden from sight. His silk purple robe began to float slightly with a scarlet hue as he activated his ability. The spoon in his hand snapped in half with a grudge before it flew towards Dazai with such force, that after Dazai smoothly dodged it, it stuck at least half way into the wall. "You little shit!" The redhead snarled through gritted teeth as he threw the milk at Dazai, and again Dazai dodged and it, making a mess on Chuuya's sparkling kitchen floor.
The brunette began running to avoid Chuuya's wrath, laughing all the while. "Haha, no~ you're the little one! AHH- ANGRY CHIBI!"
"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!!" Chuuya screamed full of rage, while arming himself with more food floating behind him like bullets aimed directly at the cackling brunette as he ran around, dodging the oncoming assault of dairy, grain, and produce based bullet hell attacks.
A = Dazai
B = Chuuya
Person A: "I hate you."
Person B: "Did you really break into my house just to say that."
He looks exhausted when he walks in—a hectic week altogether—tie loose, hair a mess, the weight of the day still clinging to his shoulders. You only get a proper kiss before he mumbles something about freshening up, leaving you standing there, needy and restless, watching him disappear into the bathroom.
When he comes back, he’s shirtless, hair damp, towel lazily slung around his neck. He settles on the bed against the headboard, long legs stretched out, a book in his hand. The glow of the bedside lamp casts soft shadows over his chest, the definition of his collarbones, the slope of his abs. And yet, he doesn’t seem to notice the way your gaze lingers.
You’re curled up at the edge of the bed, watching him, sulking a little. He must feel it, must sense the heat of your stare, because he barely glances up from his book before tilting his head toward you.
“Come here, baby.” His voice is low, lazy, but there’s something in it that makes your stomach tighten. “Sit on me.”
You first didn't understand if he meant his face or his lap, when he takes off his shorts is when you understand.
Your breath catches. “Aren’t you tired?”
A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “And? C'm on, you know both you and I want it.”
That was enough to make warmth pool at the base of your spine. He sets the book aside for a second, beckoning you with his fingers.
“C’mere, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice like honey, thick and coaxing. “Missed you.”
It’s enough to make you move before you can think better of it, before you can let the last bit of hesitation keep you away. As soon as you settle onto his lap, his hands find your waist, taking down your panties as you lift your hips up.
He lifts you slightly, making you sit on his cock, it doesn't completely fit, of course, thumbs stroking your skin through the fabric of your shirt as his tip teases that spot.
He picks up the book again, but his eyes flicker down to yours,
“You gonna behave while I read?”
You shift slightly, just enough to make his grip tighten.
His chuckle is low, teasing. “Didn’t think so.”
He picks up the book again, pretending to be absorbed in it, but you don’t miss the way his grip tightens when you shift just a little.
“You comfortable, darlin'?” he murmurs absently, eyes flicking over the pages, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
You hum, pressing your palms to his bare chest, tracing slow circles over his skin. “Mhm,” you breathe, leaning in, brushing your lips over his jaw. He doesn’t react, doesn’t move—just keeps reading like you’re not practically melting against him.
So, you move. Just a little. A slow, innocent shift, dragging your body against his like you’re just trying to get comfortable. His fingers twitch against your waist.
Still, he doesn’t say anything.
You try again, shifting higher, rolling your hips ever so slightly before sinking back down, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck.
His jaw tenses, his breath catches—just for a second—but he keeps his face hidden behind the book, stubbornly ignoring you.
“Baby,” you whine softly, dragging your lips along the column of his throat, your fingers slipping into his hair. He’s so warm, so solid beneath you, and the way he’s acting like he doesn’t care makes heat spark in your stomach.
He exhales through his nose, tilting his head back just enough to let you nuzzle into him, but his voice stays even. “What is it, sweetheart?”
You shift again, slower this time, your body pressing flush against his. His hands slide down, palms warm against your thighs now, holding you in place—but not stopping you.
“You’re ignoring me,” you pout, rolling your hips ever so slightly.
He lets out a low hum, flipping a page with maddening calm. “Am I?”
“Mmhm,” you whisper, lips brushing his ear now. “Feels mean.”
His grip tightens, his fingers flexing, but he doesn’t pull you closer, doesn’t stop you. He just lets you move, lets you tease yourself against him while he hides behind the book like you’re not driving him insane.
Finally, after another slow shift of your hips, he exhales sharply, his fingers pressing into your skin. “You having fun, sweet thing?”
You grin, pressing your forehead against his. “Maybe.”
You keep moving against him, slow and teasing, pressing yourself closer, but he doesn’t give in. Doesn’t acknowledge the way your body rolls against his, how your hands roam over his chest, fingertips tracing over his collarbones, his shoulders, the muscles in his arms.
He just keeps his book in front of his face, pretending to be unaffected, though his grip on your waist tightens each time you shift.
Still, you don’t stop.
You press your lips to the curve of his jaw, down his throat, your breath warm against his skin. Nothing. Another slow roll of your hips. Nothing. His chest rises a little quicker, but he keeps reading, keeps ignoring the way you’re growing needier by the second.
So you pull back.
Lift off of him completely, his hands falling from your waist as you shift onto your knees in front of him. He doesn’t say a word, but you can feel his gaze burning into you. Like he isn’t gripping the book just a little too tight.
And then—slowly, deliberately—you pull your shirt over your head. Let it fall somewhere on the bed before you turn around, completely bare.
This time, when you sink on him again, when your skin presses against his, warm and soft, he sucks in a quiet breath. It’s subtle, barely audible, but you hear it—the smallest groan, low in his throat, like he’s finally letting himself react, just for a second.
You smirk, leaning back against his chest, your bare back skin meeting his warmth. His hand finds your waist again, palm splayed across your stomach now, going lower, caressing your public hair, fingers pressing in ever so slightly, then, creeping up to your breasts.
But still—one hand stays on the book, his eyes flickering over the pages like he isn’t affected, like he doesn’t feel the heat of your body against his.
Then—slowly, lazily—his free hand moves up, reaching for the band holding your hair in place. A gentle tug, and your ponytail loosens, hair spilling over your shoulders, cascading down your back.
He exhales, fingers threading through the strands, brushing them over one shoulder before his palm rests lightly against your collarbone. His lips ghost the side of your head, warm and teasing.
You lift again, rolling your hips, teasing yourself against him, but he’s too big—he doesn’t completely fit, and the realization sends a frustrated whimper past your lips. You try again, sinking down only to an extent, but it’s not enough. The slow drag, the aching stretch—it’s driving you crazy.
And then—you feel it. The sharp inhale he takes, the way his fingers dig into your hips, his patience snapping in an instant.
His book is tossed aside without a second thought.
Before you can process it, he grips your waist and pushes you down onto him fully, a deep, strained groan rumbling from his chest as you gasp with a moan, hands flying to his thighs for support. The pressure, the overwhelming fullness—it has your whole body trembling.
Then, he moves.
He leans forward, chest pressing against your back, his warmth caging you in as he shifts, guiding you down onto your elbows and knees. You barely register the change in position before he presses against you from behind, rolling his hips in slow, deep thrusts that knock the air from your lungs.
A strangled moan escapes you, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he moves again, unhurried but devastating, each motion precise, like he’s savoring the way you fall apart beneath him.
His breath is heavy, hot against the back of your neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” His voice is rough, strained, and when you whimper in response, he lets out a low groan, his hips pressing even deeper.
He leans forward, to hear you and to feel your skin better—his arm slides around your throat from behind, not tight, just enough to keep you close, to keep you exactly where he wants you.
His grip is firm but careful, fingers resting lightly against your pulse, feeling the way it races beneath his touch. He groans again, voice husky in your ear as he keeps moving, slow and deep, his other hand holding your waist.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck. “Take it. J—just like that.”
Your eyes flutter open, hazy with pleasure, and that’s when you see it—the mirror straight ahead, mounted on the wall opposite the bed.
The sight knocks the breath from your lungs.
The reflection captures everything—his body towering over yours, his one hand gripping your waist and the other on your heck, the way he moves against you, desperate, like he can’t get enough. His expression is dark with hunger, his lips parted, chest heaving with each deep thrust, biting and kissing your neck.
You can’t look away.
A choked moan escapes your lips, louder than before, your gaze locked on the image before you. The way you tremble beneath him, the way his body fits against yours so perfectly—it sends another wave of heat through you.
Behind you, he notices.
His pace falters for a second, his head tilting slightly before he follows your gaze—and when he sees it, when he sees himself buried deep inside you, his body covering yours, your dazed eyes, drool from your lips, how you tighten around him, how your moans got louder, his grip on your waist tightens.
A low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest.
"You like that view, sweetheart?" His voice is husky, rough with desire.
You can barely manage a response, your moan answering for you, and that’s all it takes.
"Y—yeah? you like that baby?"
His pace shifts—harder, faster, so hard you start moving upwards away from him so he pulls you back on him, as if the sight of you together, of you unraveling beneath him, has pushed him over the edge. His breathing turns ragged, each thrust sending shivers down your spine, and you know he’s close.
So are you.
Your hands clench the sheets, your body arching, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until—
His name spills from your lips, broken and breathless, as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling in his grasp.
Only then does he let go.
With one final thrust, his body tenses, his own release following yours, a deep groan escaping as he collapses onto you, his weight warm and heavy, pressing you into the bed.
For a moment, neither of you move.
His chest rises and falls against your back, his breath warm against your shoulder, his arms still wrapped around you like he’s unwilling to let go just yet.
Then—softly, teasingly—he presses a lazy kiss to the side of your neck, his voice a deep murmur against your skin.
"Now that," he breathes, a satisfied smirk in his tone, "was a sight worth watching."
A lazy hum vibrates against your skin as he stays draped over you, his weight heavy but comforting, grounding you after the storm you both just weathered. His lips graze your shoulder, soft and lingering, before he finally shifts, rolling off you just enough to let you breathe.
But he doesn’t let go.
Instead, he pulls you back against his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His breathing is deep, still uneven, but his lips find your skin again, trailing slow, featherlight kisses along your shoulder, up to your jaw.
"You okay, sweetheart?" His voice is warm, thick with exhaustion, but there’s a hint of something else too—concern, devotion, the quiet way he always makes sure you’re alright.
You nod, still catching your breath, and he chuckles softly, his fingers brushing lazy circles against your bare skin.
"Did so well for me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss behind your ear.
You sigh, sinking into his warmth, letting yourself melt as he shifts to sit up, reaching over to grab the blanket from the edge of the bed. With careful hands, he pulls it over both of you, tucking you close against him, his body still warm from exertion.
The weight of exhaustion tugs at your limbs, pulling you toward sleep, but just as you begin to drift, you feel it—
A slow, lazy touch trailing along your skin.
At first, it’s featherlight, almost absentminded, like he’s moving on instinct even in his half-asleep state. His fingertips trace delicate patterns along your stomach before slipping lower, pressing against you with a knowing intent.
Your breath hitches.
"Mm," he hums sleepily against your neck, his voice thick with exhaustion but still laced with that ever-present hunger. "Not done with you yet, sweetheart."
The words send a shiver through you, heat pooling where his fingers tease, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the way you react even with his eyes closed. His grip tightens around your waist, keeping you close as his lips press against the curve of your shoulder, a lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.
"You can take one more for me, can’t you? I can’t believe I lived without this for a week.”
Usually, he takes his time, his mouth and hands working in tandem, drawing you apart piece by piece, only then do you come on his cock, but tonight, there was a crack in the routine.
He’s tired—so tired—and yet, not enough to resist.
Not enough to deny himself this.
His fingers dip lower, pressing against you, and when he feels the heat, the wetness waiting for him, he lets out a low, satisfied hum.
“I almost forgot,” he murmurs, lips trailing along the curve of your jaw, “how gorgeous you are like this. All flustered, sensitive and red and—”
He presses in, two fingers sliding deep, and the breath you take is sharp, stolen from your lungs.
“—so fucking wet for me.”
His fingers move with a practiced rhythm, slow but deliberate, coaxing you closer. His lips press against your shoulder, murmuring against your flushed skin, a litany of sweet nothings that only make the pleasure coil tighter inside you.
"That’s it, sweet, sweet cunt," he breathes, voice thick with exhaustion but dripping with satisfaction. "Let go for me… just like that."
Your head falls back against his shoulder, body melting into his as he works you through it, his touch unrelenting until he feels you come undone, trembling in his arms. He doesn’t stop until the last wave passes, until he’s sure he’s wrung out every last drop of pleasure from you.
Only then does he ease his fingers out, dragging them up over your thigh, slow and reverent, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel against him. His other arm tightens around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, anchoring you against his chest, clean his fingers by tasting you.
"Missed you so much," he mutters into your hair, voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t think I can go a week without you again."
His lips press against your temple, soft and lingering, before he shifts, reaching for the blanket and pulling it over both of you. His warmth surrounds you, his touch still gentle as he strokes lazy circles into your hip, lulling you into a haze of post-bliss exhaustion.
"You good, sweetheart?" he asks, voice softer now, more tender. You nod sleepily, and he chuckles, kissing the top of your head.
"Sleep," he whispers. "I’ve got you."
And with his arms wrapped around you, his breath steady and warm against your skin, you believe him.
The car ride is silent—dangerously so. His hands grip the steering wheel tight, jaw set, eyes locked on the road, but you can feel the heat rolling off him in waves. You push your luck, shifting in your seat, letting the hem of your dress ride up just a little more, just enough for him to notice.
He does.
His knuckles turn white, and that muscle in his jaw ticks. His possessiveness always simmers beneath the surface, but tonight, you poured gasoline over it. Letting another man get too close, laughing a little too sweetly at a joke that wasn’t even funny, brushing your fingers over someone’s arm like you didn’t already belong to him.
So now he says nothing. And somehow, that’s even better.
“Are you mad?” you ask, tilting your head, voice teasing, knowing exactly what you’re doing.
He doesn’t answer. Just flicks his eyes toward you.
That’s fine. You like a challenge.
Your gaze drops, tracing the shape of him beneath his slacks, the way his pants strained left little to the imagination, and you bit your lip, heat pooling low in your stomach. He catches you looking, and his breath comes out sharper, hands tightening on the wheel.
“Stop” he mutters, but there’s no real authority behind it.
You bite your lip. “What?”
The corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s debating whether to punish you with silence or pull over and make you regret every second of your little game. His patience snaps first.
The car jerks to the side, tires skidding slightly as he pulls into a secluded area off the road. The moment the engine shuts off, he’s turning to you, fingers curling around your thigh, thumb pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch.
“You think it’s funny, teasing me like that?” His voice is rough, thick with barely restrained control.
“You’re hot when you’re mad.” You say it without shame, letting your eyes drag down the length of him again, lingering on his lap.
Something in him breaks.
He tugs you forward with ease, pulling you onto his lap, your knees pressing into the seat on either side of him. His hands grip your hips, rough and demanding, dragging you down so you can feel all of him, thick and heavy beneath you.
Your dress rides up, pooling around your thighs, and his hands waste no time slipping beneath it, fingers pressing into your skin, possessive, claiming. You barely have a second to process the shift before his lips are on your throat, teeth grazing, breath fanning, sucking a mark too close to your chin and low from your face that will be impossible to hide.
You shudder, fingers threading through his hair, but he isn’t done.
A hand slides up your back, tugging at the zipper of your dress, he pulled the fabric down your shoulders, exposing more skin to his hungry gaze.
His palms cupped your breasts, fingers teasing over sensitive peaks before his lips replaced them, warm and wet, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. you arch into him, pressing yourself closer, chasing more.
His teeth scrape against your collarbone, and before you can let out a full whimper, a sharp smack lands on your ass.
You jolt, a soft gasp leaving your lips, and his smirk is nothing short of sinful. “Now is when you want to behave?” he asks, voice teasing.
Your only answer is the way your hips roll against him, feeling how hard he is beneath you. Oh, how much he wants to wreck you for every second you made him jealous tonight. He grips your hips, guiding you, forcing you to move just how he wants, shifting your weight, he maneuvered you onto one of his thighs, pressing his hands against your hips.
The pressure against your core made you whimper, and he guided you, slow and deliberate, making you move against him.
The windows fog. The air turns thick.
And the way he looks at you? Like he’s going to leave proof of his name on every inch of your skin?
You think maybe, riling him up was the best decision you’ve ever made.
The moment he stumbles into the apartment, you can tell he’s completely, utterly wasted. His shirt is wrinkled, one side untucked, and his hair is an absolute mess, strands sticking to his forehead. and there's a lazy, lascivious grin on his face as he sways toward you.
“Baaaaby,” he drags out the word as if it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said, arms already reaching for you before he even makes it across the room. “You’re so pretty. So, so pretty.”
You barely have time to respond before he crashes into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, his weight forcing you a step back. He noses at your neck, warm breath fanning over your skin before he presses a messy, lingering kiss just under your jaw.
“I missed you,” he mumbles, voice thick with intoxication. His lips trail sloppily along your jaw, missing his mark more than once. “I was thinking about you the whole time. Didn’t wanna drink, didn’t wanna talk—just wanted you.”
You exhale, half amused, half overwhelmed by how affectionate he gets when he’s like this. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m in love,” he corrects, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His eyes are dark, half-lidded, pupils blown out as he drinks you in. “So, so in love with you.”
“I thought about you the whole time. Even when they were talking about boring stuff, I was just thinking about you, and your pretty face, and your hair, and—and—” He hiccups, giggles, then kisses your cheek sloppily, missing his target entirely.
And then he kisses your lips, like he’s trying to make up for all the time he spent away. His lips are warm, a little sloppy, a little desperate, and when his tongue swipes against yours, you can taste the faint burn of whiskey.
“Mm, I love kissing you,” he mumbles against your skin. His hands slip down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. “Like, so much. I could do this forever.”
“You’ll regret it in the morning,” you tease, but he shakes his head wildly, pressing more kisses wherever he can reach.
“Nuh-uh,” he insists. “I’d regret not kissing you. That’s way worse.”
He groans into the kiss, fingers tangling into your hair as he backs you toward the bedroom. He’s trying so hard to be in control, to take the lead—pressing you up against the wall, hands gripping your waist as his mouth moves hungrily against yours. But he’s a mess. A beautiful, intoxicating mess. His lips miss their mark, his teeth graze too hard, and he keeps mumbling your name between kisses like he can’t bear to stop.
When you finally reach the bedroom, he tries to spin you around, guiding you onto the bed—but the second he pulls away to do so, he loses balance. His legs give out beneath him, and he stumbles backward onto the mattress with a dazed look on his face.
You can’t help but laugh. “Smooth.”
“Shh, c’mere,” he slurs, arms reaching for you like a needy child. And you do—crawling over him, straddling his hips as he lets out a breathy moan at the contact. His hands slide down your back, gripping your waistband, and with a drunken sort of determination, he tries to guide your hips against his. He rocks his hips up harshly once, making you fall onto him, kissing you.
“Feel that?” he murmurs against your lips, eyes dark and heavy. “S’all for you.”
You do feel it—the hard press of his arousal beneath you. He rocks your hips against him, slow and lazy, groaning softly at the friction. His fingers dig into your waist, gripping, guiding, needy. His kisses turn even sloppier, missing your lips entirely at times, trailing down your chin, your jaw, your neck.
But then, just as the heat between you starts to build, his movements slow. His grip loosens. His kisses falter. And before you even realize what’s happening, his head falls back against the pillows, breath steadying, lips slightly parted in sleep.
You blink down at him, still straddling his hips, your body burning from the half-finished tension he just left you with.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A soft snore is his only response.
For a moment, you just stare. Then you sigh, running a hand through your hair before shaking your head with a quiet laugh. You should be frustrated. You should be annoyed. But looking at him like this—his lips still pink and swollen from kissing you, his brows slightly furrowed even in sleep, his arms still loosely resting around your waist—you can’t bring yourself to be mad.
Instead, you press a soft kiss to his temple before carefully shifting off of him, pulling the blankets up over both of you.
“Idiot” you murmur, but the fondness in your voice betrays you.
And despite the ache he left you with, you fall asleep smiling, tangled up in the warmth of him.
One thing that bothers me in Character.Ai is that how readily Characters reveal ALL their information. Like, how am I supposed to spend months wondering about Chuuya's job in a chat if he tells me in an instant? And don't tell me that Dazai would go around telling EVERYONE that he was a former mafia executive- that's so out of character 😨
Same character different universe:
- ginger hair
- angry issues
- identity crisis
- approval and attention seeker
- European roots
- became a weapon as a child
- complicated relationships with their battle partner
- smirk, blue eyes and chokers suit them
Yeah, I mean them
idk why i drew this🥀 skk, post corruption, and elf was on my brain and my stupid brain pooped out ts (i guess the skk brainrot took over because i blacked out🤷♂️)
repost bc i deactivated my old/other account :p (@ in the drawing is my twt)
People joke about Dazai and Chuuya being romantically experienced or whatever, but I think it's the opposite. Chuuya doesn't know what that stuff is because Mori thinks it's funny
My novels have ARRIVED.
Corrections on a few things from @emonemogoblin
Chuuya’s outfit makes me think so many thoughts. (Not that way, you dirty bastards.)
First of all. The way the colours slowly get darker with each layer, signifying that underneath it all, he’s got a pure heart. Good intent. But tries to keep it hidden, probably for self preservation reasons.
The neck cross shows how guarded he is.
The collar is to show his loyalty, just like a dog…
The gloves, while also having a physical purpose, symbolise his need to separate himself with the blood on his hands. It barely ever reaches his hands so he tells himself it’s alright.
And the hat, definitely for height purposes. I don’t have another reason for the hat, but google says possibly for status. If so, it’s probably another self preservation attempt.
ALSO:
I’m claiming the beauty mark to be true because I have one on the opposite eye.
Chuuya’s outfit makes me think so many thoughts. (Not that way, you dirty bastards.)
First of all. The way the colours slowly get darker with each layer, signifying that underneath it all, he’s got a pure heart. Good intent. But tries to keep it hidden, probably for self preservation reasons.
The neck cross shows how guarded he is.
The collar is to show his loyalty, just like a dog…
The gloves, while also having a physical purpose, symbolise his need to separate himself with the blood on his hands. It barely ever reaches his hands so he tells himself it’s alright.
And the hat, definitely for height purposes. I don’t have another reason for the hat, but google says possibly for status. If so, it’s probably another self preservation attempt.
Update: I know it’s to indicate HOW they are speaking. Like the tone. Because it changes.
But primarily, Chuuya speaks more sharply and Dazai more emotionless and the monotone.
And I still think it’s cool.
Just reading Fifteen right now, and I love the way you can tell who’s talking by the shape of the speech bubbles.
And how they’re being said.
Chuuya’s are sharp and ridged.
Whereas, Dazai’s are monotonously the same soft, calm shape every time he talks.
Just reading Fifteen right now, and I love the way you can tell who’s talking by the shape of the speech bubbles.
And how they’re being said.
Chuuya’s are sharp and ridged.
Whereas, Dazai’s are monotonously the same soft, calm shape every time he talks.
YANKING. Is the correct word.
yall always wanna talk about dazai pulling chuuya up by his choker, but have we considered chuuya yanking dazai down by his bolo tie? because I think we should
everyday I'm haunted by asagiri saying that there's a universe where chuuya left the mafia with dazai and they joined the ada together,,,,,,,,, chuuya would have left with him if he had asked,,,,,, I'm gonna puke,,,,, dazai who didn't ask bc after all chuuya's more loyal than anyone to those he loves and sees the mafia as his family the whole time not realizing that HE is a big part of that,,,,,,,,, chuuya thinking that dazai didn't even tell him he was leaving bc he didn't care about him,,,,,,,,,,,,, they make me sick
15 Dazai and Chuuya chibis from an assignment :))