Dazai would have too much fun edging Chuuya until he’s begging Dazai to fill him in every hole, swallowing deep around the strap as Dazai fucks his face, bouncing on it as Dazai pumps him full over and over, and then when he starts to whine and squirm from how uncomfortable his belly feels all round and stuffed, Dazai will coo and rub it for him, adding a little pressure here and there to watch the fake cum leak out only to scooping it up with his fingers and fuck it back into Chuuya saying, “but this is what Chuuya wanted, I only did what he asked”, and brings him to another orgasm while Chuuya whimpers from over stimulation and Dazai making a mess of him

Atsushi wouldn’t be able to stop watching him from that day on, anytime he took off his suit jacket, anytime he saw him off duty in even tighter outfits that hugged his hips and showed off his body, he would remember how Chuuya felt between his claws, how he wanted to dig them in and make the executive bleed and submit, how he wanted to bend him over until Chuuya was presenting his pussy for Atsushi’s fat tiger cock to fill him until he was screaming for Atsushi’s cubs…

Dazai thinks the entire affair is hilarious and keeps dropping things for Chuuya to pick up in Atsushi’s presence, throwing the weretiger a cruel smirk when he starts to sweat and blush under his huge coat

It starts during a fight, Atsushi shoving Akutagawa off him by his chest and feeling something he hadn’t before. Twin bumps beneath his frilly silk shirt.

Akutagawa hisses and darts away as if burned. “Cheap shot, Weretiger.”

“Wha—huh? What was that? I was just—“

“As if you don’t know,” Akutagawa seethes. “Get up I’m not done with you yet.”

“Wait no, hold on. What…what’s wrong with your…nipples?” Atsushi blushes as he asks. He doesn’t know why he’s bothering to question Akutagawa. The mafioso never answers his ramblings anyway. They should just get back to fighting but…

Akutagawa huffs, and surprises them both by humoring Atsushi. “They’re pierced, obviously.” Cheeks a little pink himself. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Atsushi’s mind goes blank except for picturing what that might look like, and that causes him to blurt out, “Oh wow. Can I see?”

“What?”

Atsushi sputters, wishing the concrete would swallow him up or Dazai would suddenly call. “I mean! Shit, wait that wasn’t—“

Akutagawa narrows his eyes suspiciously, then smirks, so beautiful and terrifying. Atsushi refrains from shuddering, Byakko purrs. “Sure, come over to my place later.” He draws Rashoumon back into his black coat and turns to leave. “Maybe I’ll even let you peek at the others.”

Atsushi looks him up and down and can’t recall any visible metal pierced through the easily bruised pale skin. Which means… He chokes on his own spit, “O-others???”

Dazai loves to drive Chuuya crazy, and over the years he’s discovered sex is by far his favorite method.

Chuuya, usually so collected and leveled headed despite his rough former delinquent exterior, absolutely loses his shit when faced with Dazai naked on top of him, and isnt allowed to fuck his dripping pussy like a dog in rut, its all very comical and Dazai loves nothing if not good entertainment.

So tonight Dazai has Chuuya on his back, pissed off to the point of grinding his teeth, while Dazai straddles his waist and teases himself. He lets Chuuya’s throbbing cock slide between his folds, lets it kiss his opening, but then rocks away. He watches Chuuya rip the sheets with his nails and strength, and grunt furiously while never moving his gaze from between their legs.

“Is Chuuya waiting for something?” Dazai asks innocently, moaning softly when the next roll of his hips has Chuuya’s cock brushing his clit. “Anything I can help with?”

Chuuya growls, “Now you know damn well—“ he’s cut off by gasping, as Dazai grips his cock tight in his fist.

“Bad dog. I said I was going to teach Chuuya how to beg tonight, and that didn’t sound like begging.”

“Dazai—”

“Better,” Dazai grins, taking Chuuya’s leaking tip and rubbing his swollen nub. “Mmm, keep going.”

Chuuya watches him in a daze, chasing every bit of friction he’s given. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth with indignation and the need to flip Dazai on his back and pound him into the mattress until he’s screaming, but he never wins this game and if he doesn’t get inside Dazai soon, his balls are going to explode and not in a fun way. So he swallows his pride, and follows Dazai’s command, begging for all he worth. “Osamu…please. I’ll be so good. So so good for you. Don’t you, don’t you wanna let me make you cum?”

Dazai continues to use Chuuya’s cock to tease his clit, bitting his lip when his circles get tighter, when he adds more pressure, “Hmm, why should I? I can do that all on my own. But that sounded really pretty. Chuuya is so pretty when he’s pathetic and desperate.” His breathing accelerates and Chuuya’s eyes widen.

“Hey, Dazai? Hey? Oi! Are you about to cum right now? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

Dazai shuts his eyes and smiles maliciously, his chest heaving. “Shhh, Chuuya is so loud. Be quiet and maybe I won’t.”

The truth is, Dazai loves when Chuuya swears at him in that tone, he’s only bring Dazai closer to the edge.

“You bastard,” Chuuya spits.

“That’s not being quiet.” Dazai laughs, the sound breaking into a surprised moans as his belly floods with warmth and he cums, squirting on Chuuya’s neglected cock and balls. “Oops…” he hiccups. “Maybe you should’ve begged harder.”

Chuuya wants to scream in frustration, then does scream when Dazai sinks down onto him, his still pulsing cunt fluttering around Chuuya’s cock.

“Lucky for you I’m nice,” Dazai pants. “An A for effort and all that.”

Chuuya doesn’t last much longer after that, and Dazai laughs until Chuuya makes him cum again.

If that were to happen I think Chuuya would be the one most outwardly distraught, sobbing crying, throwing deranged threats, while Dazai just shuts down, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before and it probably won’t be the last, he was always told he was just too pretty until he opened his mouth, just another day of being beneath disgusting powerful men, he stopped trying to claw his way out along time ago, why waste the energy

and seeing Dazai’s blank face—the bored expression of disassociation that Dazai gets while killing or torturing or any other unsavory task Mori gives him—breaks Chuuya’s heart more than anything, because he knows, he knows Dazai is somewhere inside himself screaming and maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, a month from now, Chuuya will find Dazai surrounded by razor blades and bleeding out on the bathroom floor for the dozenth time all because Chuuya was too weak to save Dazai from everyone around them, too weak to save Dazai from himself